#Don’t ask me why he’s drinking pbr

[ciderjacks]

I drew more of cajundn chilchuck bc I can and bc I have a duty

[coleskingdom]

Letting Someone Go

Adam Cole x F Reader

Minors DNI 18 + NSFW

@midwestmade29 @madhatterbri

Summary : Revenge and Sad Songs leads to betrayal

Coles POV

Finding her was never hard when Jay was out of town, she liked a drink and a country cover band at the place in town. She sat at the back by herself with her vodka and soda. She looked more relaxed when she wasn’t around him softer, prettier not that any of that mattered for my plan to work. Jay had made all of this personal, first with the concussion he gave me, then the constant condescension, and finally only half heartedly coming after me as if I wasn’t a threat to him. I needed to hurt him mentally, I needed to shatter his soul, to hit him in his known weakness her. She was going to be collateral damage.

My POV

I saw him when he walked in, this wasn’t Cole’s scene. I wondered what he wanted, why he was here. I kicked out a chair, “ Adam sit” I said cooly,” what do you want?” . His eyes showed a slight surprise I clearly had interrupted his thought process. “ what would Jay say about this? You asking me to sit“ the smirk on his face. “ I didn’t ask I’m pretty sure I told you.” my tone unamused. “ Besides, I do this thing called whatever I want. “ raising my drink at him. He didn’t need to know that I had just had a fight with Jay, that we’d been fighting for weeks. He sat down and flagged the waitress down for another round.

“So?” I said eyeing him, his brown hair slicked back into a pony tail, a black v neck shirt, jeans and boots. He was attractive always had been, his eyes a light blue, the lines around his eyes told me he laughed a lot.

Adam’s POV

Fuck, this isn’t going to be as easy as I thought. She’s waiting on me to say something . “ I thought I’d come out to have a drink” I said wondering if I could charm my way in. “Really?” She questioned “ This bar tonight? When I thought you were looking for little ol me” her over emphasized twang making me laugh. “ What? Why?” I asked “Oh I don’t know, Jay is my boyfriend, you have a vendetta against Jay, you want to get at him by irritating me.” She said “ That’s it isn’t it.” as my face was clearly shocked. “You’re all the fucking same.”

My POV

“You can have the table, I’m done.” anger rising. “I swear to God it never fucking stops. Between the time away , the travel, the kayfabe that turns into a shoot. It’s too fucking much. I can’t even come out for a drink and a sad fucking song without his shit following me. Fuck.” Adam’s face fell, “ Hey, I’m sorry” he said his tone sincere, “Are you okay?” “If I wasn’t why would I tell you?” Wiping a tear from my eye. “No, I’m not okay. I just wanted a drink, to get away from all of the bullshit.”. taking a swig of my drink. “ How about a dance?” he said “ Your serious?”I said looking at him quizzically. He offered his hand, I accepted even if it was the worst dance ever it’d be funny. He led me to the dance floor the band started a cover of “PBR promenade ” he pulled me close and he led me in a two step, he didn’t say anything just led me across the dance floor.

Adam’s POV

There it was her walls coming down, I danced her across the floor. A little spin, my hand appropriately placed with just enough pressure to seem like I was enjoying this. Nothing like a soundtrack of cheating and heartbreak songs as a sound track to this plan, maybe it makes it easier, the idea of lost love, dreaming of someone else than who you’re with. She does feel good in my arms , she’s feisty but just wants someone to meet her half way. Her soft clean perfume, made me pull her closer, as the song ended. I held her a little bit longer. “ Thanks for the dance “ she said pulling away, her face a mix of emotions. “No problem” I said my hand lingering in hers. “ What’s one more dance?” pulling her back in, she nestled her head on my shoulder,I heard her sigh. My head and heart at war with each other. “You’re okay” I don’t know if the words whispered were for her or me. I felt her tears on my shirt, the words of the song hitting her , the only lyrics I heard were her soft breath and sighs as she pulled me closer.

My POV

“You can't lie to yourself

After loving something true

And I've never loved a soul

Quite the way that I loved you

You told me you despise

Everything that I've become

How we always turn into

Everything we're running from”

Why did he feel so good and why did I not feel guilty ? I’m crying in the shoulder of the last person I should be, but he’s here, and his hands feel good. It’s just a dance I can leave as soon as the songs over. I can tell Jay I danced with him, I can tell him he won’t be happy. He smells good, he’s so warm.

“Take it slow as you leave me

Don't you go home this evening

With someone

You're acting like is me

And I will try my hardest darling

Wait on a star that's falling

And I will wait so desperately

One thing I have quickly come to know

Nothing kills you slower than

Letting someone go”

The song ended, the last line of the song, the double meaning as I let go of his hand. Walking from the dance floor, grabbing my purse and out the front door of the bar. I got to my truck, I couldn’t breathe. I heard his footsteps, “I can’t let you leave like this” Adam’s voice soft, “let me drive you home.” his hand soft on my face. I looked into his blue eyes, there was a sadness there I recognized. I kissed him, his mouth reluctant,before giving in and pushing me up against my car as his body pressed closer into mine.

Adam’s POV

“Listen, I need to tell you something” I said needing to tell her what my plan was, I needed absolution from this. “ I don’t care, whatever it is I don’t care” she said cutting me off. Kissing me again wrapping her arms around my neck. If she doesn’t care then who am I to force the issue it’s what I came here to do. I kiss her deeper bringing her as close to me as I can. “ Honey, we can stay here, I can take you home, or you can come home with me.” In her ear.

My POV

I should just go home, I should just go home but why does he feel so good? Jay would forgive anyone but him, I’m not going to delude myself into thinking he wouldn’t find out. He presses me further against the truck, parting my legs with his, kisses move down my jaw, and to my ear I barely recognize the noises coming out of my own mouth. “Adam, truck please” he moved me barely catching my breathe to the side as he opened the truck door and climbed in the drivers side, he chuckled and smiled as he looked at me as he moved the bench seat back before helping me up and settle on his lap. Face to face in the truck it feels more intimate than it should, he kisses me again bringing me back to the moment and my overwhelming desire for him.

“Honey , you’re gonna be the death of me” as he bucked his hips in to me making me whimper. He continues his ministrations kissing down my jaw and neck as I grind against his lap, the combination of his jeans and the seam of my shorts the friction on my clit was addictive. I reached around and pulled his hair down. As I pulled away from his mouth on my neck reaching for the hem of his v neck, as I pulled it up over his head. His chiseled chest and arms further stoke the fire inside. He hums as I run my hands down his chest letting me take my time. “Honey, as pretty as you look in this top, I’m gonna need it gone as I’m much more interested in what’s underneath.” I raised my arms so that he could take it off.

"Honey you're fucking perfect," Adam pulls your hand that was going to cover yourself and places it between both your crotches onto his hard cock. You both moan out at the sensation. Adam reaches up to unbutton your shorts and you aid him in pulling them down and tossing them to rest with your discarded shirts. Only the black lace thong remained. The phone rang in my purse but I ignored it.

Adam’s fingers toyed with the edge of my panties before he pulled my panties to the side to catch a glimpse of your wetness.

"All for you Adam," Adams whole body audibly twitched at that admission and he pulled me in by the back of the head for another deep kiss with his hand that wasn't between my legs. As you kissed messily with your free hands palming over his length Adam increased his speed and plunged his middle finger into you. I moaned against his mouth at the intrusion and whimpered trying to find something coherent to say.

"Adam please I'm so close,"

"I know honey, please cum for me." Adam begged whilst he circled my clit once more with his thumb. Feeling myself clench around him Adam repeated his actions over and over as I moved against him as pleasure overcame me. Breathing hard. I kissed him, parting from the kiss, he stuck his fingers in his mouth and licked them clean. His blue eyes focusing on mine as the phone rang again. “ You probably should get that , he’s gonna keep calling.” his cocky tone bringing the gravity of what we just did to the forefront of my mind. I dug for the phone and tried to get off his lap his hands held my hips in place.

I answered “ Hey Jay, sorry I didn’t hear the phone in the bar.” trying to compose my voice, Adam mouthed put it on speaker, I mouthed no . He reached for the phone and hit the speaker button. Adam heard Jays explanation for the fight and the generic I’m sorry. Adam bucked up into me causing a laugh curse moan to fall from my lips. “Are you okay he asked?” his voice concerned. “I’m tipsy, and I just kind of tripped.” trying to not moan again. He chastised me for being out tipsy, that I should be more careful. “I’ve got to go, we will talk when you get back.” as Adam found the place on my neck. I hung up the phone finally releasing the breath I held. “Oh Honey, did you think I was going to say something?” I nodded, “ Why would I do that? When your neck has the imprint of my lips on it.” his cocky tone replacing the soft sweet tone, that he’d used earlier. I got off of his lap and put back on my clothes refusing to meet his eyes. “Honey don’t be that way, we had fun, I know you did. “his grin caused a shiver down my spine. “This is all up to you, you can tell him break his heart, I can tell him, or I’ll make a one time offer we don’t tell him and we do this again sometime.” his voice fully composed and with an edge. “Adam” my voice pleading with him not sure what I was agreeing to. “ I’m gonna say you’re gonna pick the first or last option, no need to answer now. You’re too feisty to let me be the one to do it, but you do have a self preservation instinct. However , I think you liked this more than you’re going to admit” as he reached for his shirt putting it back on. “Get out” refusing to look at him. “ Honey, I’m going” he turned my face to his and kissed me again deeply and possessive before getting out of the truck and shutting the door. I didn’t know what I was going to do. As I started the truck and drove away.

Adam’s POV

The mix of emotions that were warring inside was not what I expected. I expected to feel satisfied instead, I missed her, and realized that I wouldn’t hurt her, even if it furthered my goal. Though something told me she’d be back as I watched her peel out of the parking lot.

Song list

PBR Promenade American Aquarium

Letting Someone Go Zach Bryan

Something in the Orange Zach Bryan

Sun To Me Zach Bryan

City Lights American Aquarium

[bonitanightmxres]

Rumor || RHETT ABBOTT

PAIRING: Rhett abbott x fem!reader

SYNOPSIS: After a close relationship blossoms between you and the well-known bull rider, everyone assumes you’re dating. to combat the small-town gossip, you and rhett take action.

WARNINGS: PURE FLUFF

WORD COUNT: 1.9k 

Rhett didn’t think you’d would be at The Handsome Gambler tonight. Not really, anyway. He’d purposely come with Perry after placing fourth in that lousy PBR event, hoping to blow off some steam and drink away the night. But as you walked in with a couple of your friends, smiling from ear to ear, he couldn’t take his eyes off you. He watched your every step until you slid into the booth—you on one side, and your friends on the other.

“…you even listenin’ to what I’m sayin’?” Perry questioned.

“Uh-huh.” Rhett didn’t even bother looking at his brother. The truth was that Rhett had stopped listening to Perry’s voice a long time ago, and instead focused his hearing on you. He could make out the faint sound of your laugh, and that was enough to make him feel jittery inside. The simple thought of you made him smile.

Perry knew he’d lost his brother’s attention, and chuckled knowingly when he turned his head to see what was so mesmerizing to his brother. “See, what you’re doin’ right there, is exactly why people here keep talkin’.”

Over the past couple of years, you’d changed something in him and he knew it. At first, it scared him. Rhett hadn’t known what it was like to be so purely and innocently in love before, where all he wanted to do was be in your company. “What do you mean?”

“C’mon,” Perry scoffed. “The way you look at her? The way she smiles at you? Everybody ‘round this place thinks you’re together, and everytime I tell ‘em you’re not, they don’t believe me.”

If it hadn’t been for the darkness of the bar, Rhett would’ve been sure that the redness of his cheeks could be visible. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. Of course he’d known about the talk going on recently, he wasn’t an idiot. Despite the “playboy cowboy” persona he gave off, he hadn’t been with any other girl since a different kind of relationship began to blossom between you. Though it wasn’t like you were his, you’d only really begun to see each other as friends, going out here and there, sometimes in a group, sometimes alone. You’d been to his family’s ranch to help out a few times, you’d seen his bedroom, but to Rhett, being in the company of another girl didn't feel right, and he would later realize it was because he wanted nobody’s company other than yours. Rhett chugged the last bit of beer that remained and stood up, hoping the alcohol would kick in and give him the courage he needed.

“What’re you doin’?” Perry asked as his brother walked away.

Truth be told, Rhett didn’t even know, but all he wanted was to be yours.

...

"Don’t look now, your boyfriend’s on his way here,” one of your friends, Kate, said and giggled like a schoolgirl with your friend Lyla who sat next to her. 

From the corner of your eye, you could see Rhett Abbott slowly striding over to you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, really?” Lyla asked teasingly. “Then how come I heard from your neighbor you didn’t come home last Tuesday night? Said Rhett dropped you off the next morning. I bet you fuc—”

“Hey, darlin’,” Rhett’s country twang was fierce in his voice as he unknowingly interrupted Lyla’s accusation. He scooted next to you as you made room for him to sit, aware of the teasing smirks the women across from him gave you. “Sorry, am I interrupting?”

“Nope, not at all!” Kate’s voice became higher in pitch. “Lyla and I were actually gonna grab some more drinks. You two want anything?”

Both of you shook your head, and Lyla followed Kate and disappeared from sight, leaving you and Rhett at the booth. You enjoyed spending time with him, wherever you may have been, and it didn’t matter what you were doing. Just last week you’d helped repair one of the fences on his family’s land, and to you, there was no better place to be.

“Great job out there tonight,” you said, taking a sip from your drink. “I don’t know how you do it, making bull riding look so easy.”

“I came in fourth.” Rhett stated with disgust, as if you hadn’t been there to watch. It kind of embarrassed him, to do so poorly in front of you. Most of the time he could just block out his feelings and maybe impress you. But tonight? Just knowing that you were there to watch him made Rhett nervous.

You shrugged. “At least you weren’t last. That’s a win in my book.”

He appreciated the optimism and support you gave him no matter what. Win or lose, you managed to keep his spirits up when nobody else could. “So,” he began. “There’s a rumor goin’ around…”

A familiar melody began to from the jukebox, causing you to instinctively grip Rhett’s forearm and go, “Awww, I love this song!”

“Dance with me.” Rhett said out of the blue as he stood up, holding his hand out in front of you.

“Hang on, let me finish my drink.”

Rhett swiped your glass from the table, drinking the last swig himself, though it was a bigger drink than he realized and the taste nearly burned as it went down his throat. Rhett pulled you to your feet, walking you to the nearly empty dance floor, and you saw all the pairs of eyes that made it their business to stare and watch your next move. The song still played, and your arms naturally found their way around each other’s bodies as you swayed to the beat.

“You gonna buy me another drink?” You teased, earning a chuckle from Rhett.

He searched your eyes, how bright they gleamed back at him and he swore he saw his whole future with you in them. The mere thought of it made him smile, “I’ll buy you whatever you want.”

“Oh, yeah? What if I wanted the moon?”

“Then you’ll have it.”

You brought yourself closer to Rhett, and laughed as you rest your head on his shoulder. It was still sore after being bucked off that stubborn bull tonight, but he didn’t care.

“So tell me about this rumor of yours,” you said. “What’s it about?”

“Me and you.”

You raised your head and lifted an eyebrow curiously. “Is that so?” You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t heard the whispers in the last week or two—Kate and Lyla probably had something to do with it, you were sure. The truth was it didn’t bother you. If people thought you and Rhett were together, let them think it. In reality, you loved the rumors. It almost felt like if people kept talking about it, somehow it would be true.

“Mmhmm,” Rhett twirled you around, then brought you closer to him than ever before. Your chests nearly pressed against each other, and you could’ve sworn his heartbeat was going just as fast as yours. Deep down, Rhett sensed you felt the same way about him as he did you. “What do you think about that?”

Leaning in, you whispered, “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

Rhett’s eyes landed on your full, cherry-colored lips, and paused as if he were thinking twice about it. You couldn’t wait any longer, and stood on your tip-toes to close the gap between you. His lips were soft and they felt like home. Even though it was the first time you kissed Rhett Abbott, the jitters in your stomach had settled a long time ago, like your soul had already been intertwined with his somehow. Kissing him felt comfortable, like you’d done it a million times before this, and it was almost as if this is the way it was supposed to be.

Whistles and hollers and claps startled you both, making you jump and knocking you off cloud nine. The noise came from Kate and Lyla who had found new seats with Perry. Perry handed what looked like a bill over to Lyla, who undoubtedly placed a bet over whether or not Rhett would kiss you. Rhett glanced over at his brother, who gave him a thumbs-up, and rolled his eyes playfully.

“What do you say, cowboy? This rumor true or what?”

The song was long over by now, but Rhett made sure this moment with you wasn’t, twirling you and slowly dancing to the beat you created together.

Rhett grinned and kissed the top of your head, “Damn right it’s true.”

[queenbeaver69]

Florida is a good place to raise oranges, not children.

Like, for real. Florida is absolutely the worst place to raise kids. If you’re a single person just hanging out, drinking PBR, watching ⚡️ games, and humping Trump’s leg when he comes to town, Florida is great! But the education there SUCKS, it’s dangerous, your rights are more likely to get you shot than medically cared for, the governor is despicable, schools start at the ass crack of dawn so that working parents can get their kids to school because 1) both parents need to work, it’s unaffordable otherwise, and 2) the public transportation is horrendous! Seriously!

If you have to ask me why I moved to WA, let me tell you:

I no longer need to work. My husband is making double what he made in Florida. DOUBLE.

We can afford a house, and a HUGE one at that. We have 5 fucking bedrooms dude. FIVE.

Springtime is fucking phenomenal bro. We have lilacs in our backyard and our yard sits up against a forest. It is stunning.

I get the physical and mental care that I need! If I need an abortion no questions will be asked. Healthcare is more affordable out here, the doctors care about me as a whole person, and my well being is put as a priority.

WA state offers 18 weeks paid maternity/paternity leave as a whole. Amazing.

I could go on and on!! Do I like the winter? No. But don’t pretend that summers in Florida aren’t fucking brutal!

If you seriously have to ask me why I left Florida, or you try to shame me for leaving, then I feel really bad for you. You clearly have no idea what’s going on and that there are other states out there that can offer you a whole hell of a lot more in return for less than what you’re giving Florida.

But you do you boo!

[thedeathlysallows]

memento mori

Chapter 1: Poison Ivy

Months Earlier

           “We’re sending you to Washington state. We’ve had reports of a newborn army in Seattle and the Volturi have done nothing but twiddle their thumbs. Find newborns. Eliminate the source. Report back immediately. Questions?”

           “No.”

           “Good. Oh, and Agent? Whatever you find, don’t let personal feelings get in the way of finishing the job.”

           Titania had said it with a knowing look in her eye that I couldn’t quite place during the debriefing, but as I get closer and closer to Forks there’s the dawning of realization. There are vampires here. I can feel them. The air is thick with their presence.

           My father’s house reeks of them.

           “I really wish you were staying with us, kiddo.” Dad hugs me tight after I walk through the front door and ushers me to the living room. I look him over for any subtle differences, but find none. He’s the same. Untouched by whatever darkness is lurking around.

           Good.

           At least Charlie Swan is safe.

           However, that leaves the question: why does this house smell like vampires have been living here for years?

           “Yeah, well, you know how it is. I like having my own space.” I make my tone apologetic, but in reality I’m relieved I won’t be staying with my dad. Technically, I shouldn’t even be in Forks. My mission is in Seattle. Titania will look the other way, though. She always does as long as I get the job done.

           I don’t love the idea of a double life and I especially hate that I have so many secrets from my dad. He was always my rock. My safe place. Mom was never stable enough to take care of me, and I really have no clue how the court gave her full custody of Bella aside from complete bias. I was old enough to make my own choices, and I chose dad.

           He looks at me with a fondness in his eyes that makes my heart ache.

           “I really wish I could stay, Dad, but I just…”

           He puts a hand up and shrugs. “I get it. Don’t want your old man cramping your style. I was young once. I was hip.”

           I laugh and walk to the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Dad eyes me with a frown. “What? I’m twenty three. You wanna check my ID officer?”

           “Nah… maybe… did you ever use a fake?”

           “No,” I lie. Another truth I can never tell. It was far more than just fake IDs and underage drinking, but I’ll die before I tell my dad. “So… Bella? How’s that going?”

           He told me a while back about my younger sister’s odd, troublemaker boyfriend, but I always felt he was holding something back. I often left those conversations with something tickling at the back of my mind; however, I never pursued it. Now, I regret it. Hopefully there’s time to make up for it.

           Dad grumbles, expression growing stormy. “Had to let him back in the house.”

           Judging from my intuition and the smell in the air, he never left in the first place. Out loud I say, “ouch, old man. You let your teenage daughter strong arm you like that?”

           “She threatened to go back to Renee if I didn’t.”

           “Oh.”

           I shouldn’t be surprised by that at all. Bella’s notorious for using the mom threat, after all. She’s done it since we were kids. Part of me always wished she would grow out of it, though. Clearly that will never happen. It’s sad. Our dad doesn’t deserve that. All he’s ever wanted from either of us is the tiniest bit of love.

           Hence why hiding everything from him hurts so much.

           Being self-aware really sucks sometimes.

           “Do you think you could talk to her,” Dad asks after the silence stretches on for too long and I’m picking at the PBR label to stop from picking at my nails from nerves.

           “Mmm, Dad, I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You know Bells and I have always fought like cats and dogs.”

           “Right. I was just hoping I guess.” He visibly deflates.

           Fuck.

           “Okay, I’ll try. Just don’t do,” I gesture to his current posture that’s reminiscent of a kicked dog, “that. Where is she any-”

           Before I even finish my question, the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end and the air shifts dangerously. My eyes dart to the doorway of the kitchen where Bella stands with one of them. He’s one of the golden eyes, weakened by consuming animal blood, but dangerous all the same. And my sister is holding his hand like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

           I didn’t hear the two of them come in. I didn’t sense him in time. This is why I can’t stay in Forks with Charlie. I’m weak around them. My love for them makes me weak. I can’t afford to be weak.

           “Hi,” I finally say after I calm the pounding in my ears and tame the instinct to attack, kill.

           Bella looks visibly flustered, like my sudden appearance is too much for her. Maybe it is. I mean, last time we talked I was lecturing her about being an irresponsible idiot. She has every right to still be annoyed by that I guess.

           Dad is the one to break the ice. “Rosie, meet Edward Cullen. Bella’s boyfriend.”

           Fuck.

           My mind races. Does he have a connection to what’s happening in Seattle? How often is he over here? How often is he alone with Bella? Does Bella know? Are there more? Oh, God, are there more? How many more? Where do they live? Are they all golden eyes like him?

           Edward nods his head almost imperceptibly, his eyes locked onto mine.

           A mind reader then. That’s fine. Nothing special. I’ve handled his kind before.

           “You’re back home?” Bella breaks my staring contest with her boyfriend. She’s not happy and it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. Her tone is sharp and her body language is tense.

           “Oh, relax,” I tell her. There’s a bite to my words as well. “I’ve got work in Seattle so I’m here visiting. I’ll be hanging out more often, though.”

           If Edward has two brain cells to rub together he can tell what I am. If Edward is smart he can hear the threat in my words.

           “Seattle? You aren’t staying there are you?” There’s a new emotion in Bella’s voice. Panic.

           I nod. “I am, but don’t worry. I’ll stay away from the serial killer.”

           “We don’t know it’s a serial killer yet,” Charlie adds in.

           “Right, but that’s what I’m here to figure out.” I take a sip of my beer. “The organization I work for heard about all the murders and they sent me to investigate. I’m hoping I can get to the bottom of it quickly and head back to Charleston before the month is up.”

           Edward quirks an eyebrow, an amused expression on his face. “That quickly?”

           I hate his voice instantly. It’s the same lilting, musical cadence all the bloodsuckers have.

           “Mhmm. I’m very good at my job,” I assure him.

           “Well in that case you have my thanks for keeping all of us safe.”

           I narrow my eyes at him. What a smug little bastard. I don’t like him. In fact, I think I would hate him even if he was just some human boy. Speaking of…

           “How’s Jacob?” I ask Charlie the question, but Edward is the one who answers.

           “Bella doesn’t see him much anymore.”

           Smug and controlling, then.

           Good job picking one of the worst, little sis.

           I’m suddenly desperate and itching to start my investigation, so I check my watch and sigh dramatically. “Wow, look at the time! I should get going so I can check into my hotel on time. Gotta start work bright and early tomorrow. I’ll be back though.”

           “Any leads,” Edward asks.

           “Yeah. I think so. See you tomorrow.”

           I give Charlie a kiss on the cheek and Bella a wave. I can feel Edward’s eyes on me all the way to the front door. It won’t be hard to find out where he lives, and if he has any sense at all, he’ll warn the others that death is coming.

           My drive to Seattle is far less eventful than my visit back home. The three hour trip gives me time to ponder and stew over Bella’s involvement with vampires. She’s not a stupid girl, I finally decide after a while. She just thinks she knows better than everyone else and will overlook danger like it’s nothing.

           Suddenly, this job feels a lot more daunting.

           The Society set me up at the Four Seasons Hotel right in downtown Seattle. It’s a corner suite with a view of the bay that makes my heart squeeze tightly in my chest. I miss Charleston already. Sure, I didn’t grow up in the coastal southern town, but it’s where The Society conducts most of their business. Their seat of power, if you will. It’s also where I did my first year of college. The parties were always ridiculously fun.

           I toss my bag on the bed and plop down on the couch by the window. It gives me a perfect view of the warehouse the Agent before me tracked the newborns to. He’s been MIA for a week now, and at this point it’s safe to assume the worst has happened. As I stare out the window I feel a strange flutter in my chest. There’s something staring back.

[jovialtorchlight]

Stranger Approaching You in a Bar

Stranger Approaching You in a Bar

“Wait a minute, I know you. Do you remember me? We were playing up on the railroad trestle, high up over the river, when my brother stepped on a paper wasp nest,”

You glance up from your craft IPA. It was a long shift, and you came to the familiar dive for a cold drink before heading home. The hefty man, unkempt, a bit wild looking, with a long red beard, picks up his can of PBR and saddles up next to you. Before you have a chance to respond, he keeps going.

“A big one. I remember looking at them, crawling all over, all over his bare chest and arms and legs, wriggling around, humming like they were electric, like they were waiting for something, some sign to start stinging.

We took to running. Wasps took to stinging. Brother got stung. Bad. Coroner said he had 200 stings, swollen on his bruised, broken body. Imagine that. 200 welts, still red and full of pus when they laid him out on the metal table,”

What the fuck, you think. How the fuck does he know--

“Oh yeah. Forgot. You didn’t see him die. Guess it hurt so bad he flung himself off the

bridge into the river. Heard him scream all the way down. I got stung a couple times. I don’t think you did, did ya? You got lucky. Jesus, we must have been ten years old.

Do you remember? When he was standing there, with the wasps, how the crows kept circling? Je-sus, it’s like they knew. He was crying, kept begging us to get the wasps off of him, but there wasn’t nothing we could do, right?”

There was. There was. Before Joey flung himself off the bridge, you could have picked him up. He was little, about seven years old, barely an armful. But you were scared, rooted in place. You froze.

You look back to the stranger, and are about to ask him who the fuck he is--some rando who heard about the deaths in some true crime podcast?

“Once the wasps got to stinging, it could have been us, right? When they found him, downriver ways, his waterlogged skin was blue and bloated and puffed and his eyes were swollen shut.

We couldn't have helped him none, right? Wow. What a trip running into you here, man. How you been, by the way?”

Billy. You think. Oh my fucking God, it’s Billy.

He leans across the bar, getting close to your face. As he gets closer, the air gets heavy, like you have to sip the oxygen through a straw.

You can see the rot deep set in his teeth, his scraggly red beard coated in grease. He’s wearing a ripped plaid flannel and jeans covered in paint and oil. His eyes, deep black, dart to yours. They’re magnetic, and you lock with them. You don’t try to avert his gaze, but if you tried, you would have failed.

“It should have been you,” he says, low. A chuckle rises like a belch from his stomach. Gas, bloat rising. You remember. Your eyes light up in realization. Panicked, irises bouncing around like ping pong balls in your pupils, unable to look away from the stranger. His skin darkens, turns blue even in the dim light of the bar. His skin inflates, like someone is pumping him with a tire inflator.

He grabs your arm, dead man’s grip, clammy, cold. A chunk of his red hair, dripping wet, coated with slime, like hair caught in the shower drain, plops onto the bar counter beside him. A chunk of black, necrotic skin slops off his arm and lands on your shoes with a wet slap.

The stench is unbearable. Swamp gas and rotting flesh, skin sloughing off of his body, shirt rapidly decaying, black mold lining the fabric, coated in discharge. His clutch is still firm on your arm.

He’s right, you think, trying to break eye contact. You remember. The wasps trailing behind. The pain, like getting stabbed with a hot butter knife. They seemed to want to swarm Billy. Like a cloud. The swarm of wasps, like a plague of locusts, closing in.

“Why?” the decomposing stranger asks and half his face slides off like butter in a pan. “Why did you trip me? Why didn’t you turn around and help?”

For the first time, you can speak. It comes out of your body involuntarily, like a yelp of pain.

“It should have been me,” you whimper. “It should have been me.”

“It’s not too late, friend,” Billy belches out. “May I?

You nod. It’s time for this to end.

Billy reaches, his hot dog, waterlogged fingers oozing black liquid. Two fingers gently touch your eyelids, pull them down, like a drawn curtain.

You’re on the bridge. Billy’s behind, a few paces. He’s screaming. The buzz is deafening. The paper wasps blot out the sky.

You have the raw, primal instinct to trip, to sacrifice Billy. The urge bubbles up. You pop it like a bubble.

You stop. Billy looks behind, not stopping.

The paper wasps swarm. A thousand hot knives. A freefall. Bones break as you hit the water.

Nothing after. Just bloated death.

[nadiafalconer]

I wrote this yeeeeeaaarrrssss ago when I was in a specific rom-com era. I want to say this is from like 2015?? 2016? This is a one-shot excerpt. I don’t think this is going anywhere or will be built upon but it was a good exercise on writing a flowing conversation with multiple characters.

Anyway, any constructive tips are appreciated. Who knows?? Maybe I’ll be inspired to breathe some life into it.

meeting the friends

He nodded and we walked in. "Hey, y'all wanna grab a beer?" Tom asked the room. A couple of "yeahs" and grunts ran across the room. "I've got this." I told them, walking towards the bar. As I passed by Grayson, he whispered "incredible" again, with my favorite crooked smile on his face. I smiled back, winking and went to get the drinks. Now, if I remembered correctly, and I do, Tom liked PBR, Jason was a Sam Adam's fan, and Tim and Jack are Bud Light kind of men. Placing the orders, I headed back.

"They'll be out in a second." I said, announcing my return.

"Hey you." Grayson said.

"Hey yourself." I returned, slipping in next to him in the booth.

"So Rachel, what do you like to do for fun?" Tom inquired.

Now, this is a pivotal moment, honestly, this whole evening with the guys is a pivotal moment because it's basically judgement day with them.

"Well, on the surface, it looks like I do normal things like, you know, working out, finding out new places and things, meeting up with friends but really, I'm just wrecking havoc, seeing destruction." I said dead panned with my voice dipping slightly at the end. Jason cracked a smile, Tim chuckled softly, Jack nodded agreeingly but Tom fired on, fulfilling the role of the inquisitor.

"You work out for fun?"

"Yeah I do. It's good for stress. And the body and all that."

"Right, right."

"Yep. I try to drag this one along" I gesture towards Grayson "but he can't quite keep up. So I try to take it easy on him."

"Can't keep up huh?"

"Sorry buddy. It's the truth."

"Don't sweat it." I told him, patting his thigh. He grabbed my hand, gave it a little squeeze and held on under the table. Our drinks arrived then, with fresh beer nuts and the waiter started attempting to distribute it when I delegated the drinks and the owners.

"Damn. That's pretty good." Tim said. "How'd you know?"

"I saw you all with them when I came in."

"We weren't drinking when you came in."

"True. You all were done but the bottles were in your vicinity at the table. I made an educated guess."

"Well, that's a damn good educated guess." Tim said in that sure way of his.

"Why, thank you."

"So Grayson here tells us that y'all met at a rodeo." I nodded.

"Excuse my assumptions but what were you doing there?"

Chuckling, I answered. "A friend of mine from school loves horses. Always has. We recently reconnected and he invited me out. It's been a while since I've been to one actually. College time was the last couple of times I'd been to a rodeo."

"'He' huh?" Tom jumped back into the conversation.

"Yep. 'He.'"

"How close are you and he?"

"How ever do you mean?" I innocently asked. He slightly squinted his eyes, realizing that I was forcing him to voice his insinuations aloud. Staying true to his reputation, he fired on unashamedly.

"How close are y'all? Your rodeo friend and yourself?"

"Pretty close, now that we've reconnected. We do all sorts of things, you know. Sometimes we get together and just braid our hair, other times, we like to go to cafés and bash on people's outfit choices but our absolute favorite pastime would have to be trying on dresses together when we go shopping." He smiled. "Right, right." He said, his twang slipping in. "She's funny." He told Grayson.

"She's also right here." I said, winking at him. "So, tell me, which one of you knew he was going to go riding without any safety precautions?" I turned on them. I saw recognition flash in all of their eyes. "Yeah, that's right. I know. Buddy over here got hurt and on your watch. Let's try to keep that to a minimum yeah?"

A chorus of "Yep.", "Yes ma'am.", "You've got it." rang loud and clear, with Jack staying true to his nature as a man of few words, he nodded and uttered a firm "Got it."

"Good. Now I've heard that you like to get some beers and go to the range?"

"Uh yeah. We do."

"Good. When you're ready, we should go." I told them.

"I like her." Jason said matter of factly, then turned to me and repeated his statement. "I like you."

"Why, thank you." I told him.

"I second that." Tim added. Jack nodded firmly and shot me a wink. I smiled fully and clapped my hands. Tom stayed silent, looked around in betrayal at his friends as though they'd broken a pact.

"Well then. This would've awkward, if I succumbed to peer pressure." Tom quipped.

[carolmunson]

startin' from zero, got nothing to lose (II)

part i part ii

we start meeting the bar gang, eddie makes plays and likes boobies.

cw/tw: drinking, drug dealing, drug mention, alcohol mention. friends to lovers, bitchy mutual pining. original female character, the sweetest eddie munson i've ever written. eddie munson takes on nyc.

“Rhonda. Darling . Light. Of. My. LIFE!” Tony walked towards them from the back, letting a word out with each step. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently turned her to face him, “Please don’t bully the new hookup, you’re being a huge buzzkill.” 

Disgust contorted her face and she looked over at Eddie, “This clown?” 

Disgust contorted her face and she looked over at Eddie, “This clown?” 

“Yeah, that clown – Look, can you just, I don’t know, chill out? Can you just try to be a nice person?” he asked. He took the shot still in her hand and immediately downed it, “Thanks!” 

“That wasn’t for…Whatever, I’m gonna go have a cigarette,” Rhonda said, trying to collect herself. She maneuvered past Tony and around the bar, shaking a cigarette out of the box that was in her back pocket. Eddie watched her pat at her pockets, looking for her lighter, he instinctively reached for his own banged up Zippo. 

“Here,” he handed it out to her. She took it apprehensively, lit up and passed it back to him.

“I’m Eddie, Eddie Munson,” he put the lighter back in his pocket. Rhonda looked at him pitifully and let out a cloud of smoke in his direction. 

“I don’t care,” she said, and walked down the bar to the exit. He kept his eyes on her for a moment. Tony wasn’t wrong, she probably could deck him pretty hard. She was shorter than him, but broad shouldered with big hips and thighs, he’d describe her as sturdy. In his experience, sturdy people threw a mean punch. 

“Ah, that Ron – ain’t she somethin’?” Tony said while Eddie took a seat back on the bar stool, “Kind of a bitch but -- charming as hell.” 

“She’s… something ,” he said, a confused look on his face, ��Charming? Eh. Terrifying, maybe.” 

“Hey, I told ya not to let her catch you,” Tony explained, “Not my fault you got caught.”

“I thought Ron was a guy!” he justified, "You never said to look out for a walking Frazetta girl."

“Welp, you shoulda thought outside the box, Munson,” Tony shook his head, “But yeah, that’s my Ronnie.” 

“Is she like that to everyone?” he asked. 

“Oh yeah, she’s the meanest person I know,” he nodded, crossing his arms, “Just at the bar though. Little bleeding heart everywhere else.” 

“Hm,” Eddie replied, reaching for his bag, “Well I can stay or head out, definitely already made out with enough of a cut for you and my guy so, just say the word.” 

“No, no,” Tony said, coming around the bar and clapping a big hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “Stick around, kid. Have a drink, when Ron comes back I’ll just tell her to keep whatever you need comin’.” 

Eddie gave Tony an apprehensive squint, “Okay, you’re right. Hey, Deb?!” He called down the bar. 

A small bleach blonde on the other end turned her head, “Yeah, Tone! Whaddaya want?!” 

“Keep sending beers to my guy at the end over here!” 

Tone took the vacant stool next to him and Deb walked over with two PBRs, “Can’t you have Ron do it?” she asked, cracking the cans open for them.  “Hi, I’m Debbie, nice ta meet’chya,” she put out her hand and flashed Eddie a smile. Her teeth were bright white against her blood red lipstick. Eddie took her hand and kissed it, little blonde Elvira type. Just a little spooky, he liked that. 

“Eddie,” he said. She winked at him, his mouth went dry again. He took a sip of the beer after she placed it in front of him. ‘ How does he work like this? ’ he thought, he could barely mop a floor at Gleason’s when the women were training, how did Tony run a business with babes everywhere?

“Well Ed, welcome 'ta Skid,” her voice was nasally, but endearing, “Tony, I’m making big tips over there why can’t Ron stay on this side?” 

“Rhonda’s in a bad mood with me,” Tone confessed with a dramatic pout, “C’mon, just be a doll and stay.”

Debbie rolled her eyes, a smirk on her lips, “When is Ronnie in a good mood with you?” Tony shrugged, and Deb surveyed her new section of the bar, good enough , she guessed. 

“Awl- right , I’ll stick around over here, you’re lucky this new guy is cute,” she said, nodding her head over to Eddie. He nervously played with his rings, a smile breaking out over his face. Rhonda bustled back past them, cold air and the scent of tobacco rushing past with her. 

Debbie popped her gum, “We’re switchin’.” Ron scoffed and looked at Tony and he waved her further down the bar.

“You’re kidding,” she was smiling, but it was clear she was annoyed, “‘Cause I was mean to your buddy?” 

“We got a full bar Rhonda, just do your fuckin’ job,” he was exasperated. 

“You got it, boss,” she said, putting her hands up to show she was done with the argument. Eddie looked her over again, the opening chords of ‘Shout at the Devil ’ started on the stage. She didn’t turn to look back at him and he didn’t know why he expected her to, but it hurt him that she didn’t. 

“So Eddie, where ya from?” Debbie asked, leaning on the bar so her chest was on full display. 

“H-hawkins,” he stuttered out, his gaze quickly snapping to her face, “Indiana. Been here for a year.” 

“Never made it to Skid, huh?” she asked and popped her gum again, a mischievous look in her eye, “What, did the other guys tell you it was a shitty Led bar?” He snorted and shook his head. 

“They did! I told ya Tony, people were talkin’ shit!” Debbie slapped the bar with both hands, “I knew it.” 

“And now they’re not talkin’ shit, it’s a better bar. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, bless my uncle’s soul, but maybe Skid needed him to die, y’know?” Tony chugged his beer and got up off the stool, “Alright, Ed, I’m heading back to my office but I’ll be out in a little and we can uh..you know, make an exchange.”

Eddie nodded, shaken by the second clap to the shoulder he got today. He double checked inside the bag, money still wadded up at the bottom, still some party favors left to pass out. The yellow light of the back flashed in his eyes as Tony disappeared behind the door. 

“So, Hawkins,” Debbie started, “Wasn’t there some like…freak earthquake there or somethin’? In like ‘86?” 

“Somethin’ like that, yeah,” he said, taking a big swig of his beer. 

“Were you there for that?” she asked, her eyes big and glassy, hungry for the story. 

“Can I get something stronger?” his brow furrowed, desperate to avoid the question. 

“Oh, sure honey, just a second!” Debbie turned to put something together for him, but got a couple more shouts for beer from other guys and girls at the bar. He took a deep breath to compose himself, his eyes darting down at Rhonda again who was mouthing along with the lyrics. Debbie put a glass down in front of him quickly, hustling over to start pouring beers and drinks. The bar had definitely picked up since he got there and the corner he was in before was vacant. Suddenly feeling overwhelmed, he picked up the glass and grabbed his bag, shuffling through people to get back to his old table. 

He took a sip of the Debbie Special and immediately clocked it as simply...alcohol, no mixer. He welcomed the sting though, talking about Hawkins made him tense. Talking about ‘86 made him tenser. It wasn’t long before the soft lull of a buzz clouded his vision and he was able to settle back into the flow of making plays. He propped one leg up on the bench he was sitting on, resting an arm on his knee, pressing his back up against the wall.

After the last of his product was gone, he looked back up at the bar. Debbie serving and smiling, taking bills in her cleavage like a champ. Rhonda was shaking two shakers and pouring two drinks at a time. He watched her delicately place the beverages in front of two ladies at the bar, their men standing and chatting behind them. Despite how dark the room was, she caught his stare from across it. 

His cheeks burned, and even if she couldn’t see it, he smiled at her and nervously toyed with his rings again. The yellow flash from the back room peeled through the people on the floor, all thrashing to the music from the band on the stage. Rhonda nodded over to him in the corner, likely to Tony who had probably just left his office. 

His eyes met hers again, and in the glow of the backroom door closing, he saw her pour a beer, smiling too. 

[maybanksbitch]

Protector || JJ Maybank

* this is not my gif; all credit goes to the owner.

pairing: jj x reader

prompt: jj promised you he’d stop getting into pointless fights, but a night when you’re not there, he breaks it. he can’t hide how he feels about you anymore.

warnings: swearing, underage drinking, violence, blood

a/n: do i kinda hate how i wrote this? yes. am i going to delete it? nah.

Your phone had been blowing up all night. You had eleven missed calls from John B, 7 from Pope and 3 from Kiara. You had over a hundred unread texts from the three of them combined. You had to turn your phone off at some point after your boss threatened to fire you if he heard one more chime.

By the time you’d finally clocked out, it was two hours later. You turned your phone back on and stood there for a good two minutes as the notifications rolled in. You glanced over texts and felt your blood boil when you got the gist of them.

There had been a party at the Boneyard that night, one you had to miss. Money was tight and your parents needed you to start pulling some weight. JJ had been in another fight. He promised you he would try to control himself better after the gun incident, but clearly he was incapable of that.

You let out a sigh as you slung your bag over your shoulder and hopped on your bike. You pedaled the familiar way to the Chateau, thinking of all the ways you were going to rip your blonde friend a new asshole.

You pulled up outside the house and dropped your bike in the front yard. You burst through the front door, startling Pope and Kiara who stood at the wooden kitchen table. John B was leaning against the wall, a tired look on his face and a PBR in his hand.

“Finally,” Kiara sighed and walked over to give you a welcoming hug.

“We’ve been trying to reach you for hours!” Pope exclaimed in an accusing manor.

You gave the dark skinned boy a look and painted a sarcastic smile across your lips. “Yeah, I know. Greg nearly fired me because y’all wouldn’t shut up,” you retorted.

John B just stared at you from across the room. He had a fresh bruise on the right side of his jaw near his chin as well as dried blood near his left eyebrow. You walked over, reaching up to brush his hair away and inspect the split skin on his forehead. He pulled back and met your eye, shaking his head slightly.

“Where is he?” you asked as you dropped your bag on the kitchen table and went for the spare room.

“He’s outside,” John B grumbled, taking a long drink from his beer.

You turned with your eyebrows creased in confusion. Kiara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose as she spoke, “We told him he couldn’t come back in until he had a level head.”

It clicked in your brain in that moment. John B’s injuries weren’t from fighting Kooks. They were from fighting JJ. That infuriated you even more. What could have possibly happened for the blonde to want to fight his own best friend?

You turned without another word and pushed the screen door open forcefully. You stepped out onto the back patio and looked around. You saw a mess of blonde hair on the hammock not far away. JJ knew it was you and didn’t dare turn his head to acknowledge you. He could practically feel the anger radiating off of you.

“What in the hell did we talk about?” you sneered as you stormed over to your best friend. He stayed in the same position, head turned towards the water, arms crossed over his chest. “JJ, look at me.”

“I really don’t want to do this right now,” was the response you got.

A sarcastic laugh left your lips as you walked around to the other side of the hammock, forcing the blonde to look at you. “Well that’s too damn bad. Have you seen John B’s face? What’s gotten into you?!” you questioned, voice desperate as you tried to get the boy to talk to you.

JJ simply sniffed once and shrugged his shoulders a bit. You felt your hands start shaking. He was trying to brush you off and hope you would just let it go, but you both knew that wasn’t going to happen.

“JJ, you can’t just start swinging every time someone looks at you the wrong way! I thought we had an understanding. If you keep getting assault charges, one day they won’t just let you walk! I know the Kooks are absolute pains in the ass, but sometimes you just have to let it go!” you tried to reason with him.

The opposite happened. A switch flipped in JJ because you had no idea what happened. He leapt off he hammock faster than you could blink, voice like thunder as he shouted, “You don’t know what they said about you!”

You were shocked, taking a step back as one of your hands came up defensively to your chest. You blinked slowly as you stared at the enraged blonde. He was breathing heavily through his nose, hands clenched so hard at his sides his knuckles were white and you were sure his nails were drawing blood.

“What?”

“Rafe, Topper, Kelce.. All those pieces of shit!” JJ threw his arm, knuckles cracking against the tree. He was trying to divert his anger away from you. “The things they said about you. About your body. About using you!”

His arm went to swing again but you grabbing his bicep before his fist connected with the tree again. You were afraid he was going to break his hand at this point. The sob you heard JJ let out nearly ripped you in two. You went in there, guns blazing, when you didn’t know what happened. He was trying to defend you; protect you.

“Oh, J,” you whispered, placing your hand on the side of his face. You pulled him down and forced his head against your chest then wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders.

“I blacked out, (Y/N). They wouldn’t stop saying those things and I lost it. I just kept picturing them hurting you,” JJ cried into your chest, tears soaking through your shirt but you didn’t care.

“It’s okay, JJ, it’s okay,” you mumbled, reaching one hand up to thread through his hair. You could feel grains of sand against his scalp, surly from being thrown around by heartless Kooks.

JJ sniffles and lifted his head, teary blue eyes meet your e/c’d ones. His bottom lip quivered and he closed his eyes to try and will himself to stop crying. His voice cracked as he tried to talk again, “I didn’t mean to hurt John B either, promise. I was just still so angry when we got back here. He didn’t help me. He didn’t help me defend you.”

You smiled sadly and placed both of your hands on JJ’s face, wiping his tears away with your thumbs. He slowly opened his eyes to look at you again. The amount of love and adoration you saw in them damn near took your breath away.

“It’s not John B’s job to defend me, babe. It’s not yours either. No one has to defend me,” you whispered, fingers threading together on the back of JJ’s neck.

The blonde boy leant forward until his forehead was resting against yours. Soft breaths left his parted lips and spread across your face like a blanket. He smelled like cigarettes, marijuana and beer mixed with sunscreen and saltwater; your favorite scent. His scent.

JJ moved to his own accord, ignoring his brain screaming at him not to do it. You’ll make things weird. You’ll ruin everything. She won’t love you back. He ignored it all and nudged his head forward until your lips connected. You could have sworn you saw fireworks go off behind your eyelids. Every nerve ending your body flared up and tingled. Your lips fit together like pieces of a missing puzzle.

No wonder neither of you could figure out why it felt so weird hooking up with Tourons this whole time.

When you pulled away, breathless and dizzy, you opened your eyes to find JJ’s already on you. The widest smile he’d ever seen spread across your face, a giggle slipping past your teeth. A simple ‘wow’ was whispered between you both. An equally large grin enveloped JJ’s face as well. He pecked your lips roughly five more times before pulling back completely and rubbing his hands over his wet face.

You wrapped your arms around the skinny yet muscular boy’s waist and rested your head on his chest now, listening to the steadying beat of his heart. You felt at home in his arms.

“I think you should apologize to John B, or we’ll be sleeping out here tonight,” you mumbled into the soft fabric of his long sleeve shirt.

“As long as I’m sleeping with you, I don’t care,” he retorted, slender arms encasing you. You tilted your head up and gave him a look that said ‘I will not be sleeping out here with the mosquitoes’ and he let out a small laugh. “Okay, yeah, I should apologize.”

The two of you walked hand in hand back into the Chateau, JJ’s head hung sheepishly as he met John B’s eye. Moral of the story, you ended up in the spare room, tucked under a tan blonde’s arm; where you belonged.

masterlist

[butgilinsky]

maybe someday you and me can run away // jf

warning; none, i don’t think

summary; one bad pick up line at a bar leads to an odd dynamic between you and joel that somehow works out

word count; 2.5k+

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

You can feel the weight on your shoulders fade with every drink you throw back. It’s a Saturday night and while you’re not always one to agree to a round of shots three times in the same night, you’ve had a rough week and let your friends sway you into drinking the stress away. That along with the fact that you’re here for Jess, trying to help her get over her recent break up. If she wanted to take shots, you’re not in a place to deny her that. 

The bar is packed, the line outside rolling down the sidewalk, and you’re just happy to be out of the cold. The long sleeve shirt and jeans you have on doesn’t shield you from much more than a light breeze, and with it being October in Philly, being inside seems to be the safest place for you. 

You don’t notice the band of rowdy boys spilling into the bar, given that you’re pressed against the bar and waiting patiently for your drink. Your attention’s on one of the screens above the liquor bottles when a boy sidles up beside you and sends you a wide smile. 

“Hey Juliet.” you look at him, an unimpressed smile finding its way to your lips as you laugh at his attempt at picking you up. You’d been offered a drink twice tonight alone, and while you planned on denying it, you were just waiting for him to offer another. 

“That’s not my name.” your nose scrunches and you shrug, the unimpressed smile turning into a gentle one. “Must have the wrong girl.”

“I think Romeo knows his Juliet.” you mock a gag, one with your finger pointing to the back of your throat that has the stranger bubbling up a laugh that’s strangely melodic in your ears. You smile at the sound and sigh softly. 

“I’m flattered, truly, but my name’s not Juliet and I’m sure yours isn’t Romeo.” he cocks his head to the side and adjusts the hat on top of his head. His eyebrows raise and he sucks on his teeth gently. 

“Well if you know everything then what is my name, sweetheart?” you sigh and look him up and down a few times, going through various lists of names you have stored in your memory. 

“I’m getting a Bryce vibe.” he scoffed then, one from the back of his throat that tells you that you’re way off, but there’s a hint of a smile settling on his lips and you enjoy the view. 

“So you think I'm a frat boy who can’t tell the difference between a PBR and a Sam Adams?”

“No, I think you can tell the difference between a PBR and a Sam Adams but for whatever reason, you prefer the PBR.” his smile only widens and another laugh slips past his lips, another melody playing between your ears that you truly don’t think you can get enough of. 

“I think you’d be surprised to hear that your reading is a tad off since I don't spend my time doing keg stands in a frat house. I actually play hockey.” you rolled your eyes on instinct, the image of the boy in front of you that currently lived in your head now washed away and replaced with a tainted version. 

“What’s the difference?” his tongue clicks, unsure of how that didn’t get you. That usually caught ears and eyes in seconds. 

“In the NHL.” he tries to clarify, hoping that your indifference is because you don’t know he’s a Flyer. Maybe you think he plays for a minor league team, or maybe even college. 

“Good for you bud.” you smile when the bartender sets a glass in front of you and you turn, a smile dancing on your lips as you grip your drink and give the boy a pat on the back before you turn and leave the bar. 

“What’s your name!” you just smile and wave at him over your shoulder. 

“Bye Bryce!” 

He watches you for the rest of the night, losing for one second when he runs to grab another drink but by the time he gets back to his spot with his friends, you’re gone. Morgan told him you left, knowing all too well that the slump in his shoulders is due to the absence of the girl he’s been gawking at all night long. 

The next time he sees you, he has to do a double take. He’s thumbing through racks of clothes at a department store, Nolan and Travis at his side as the three of them talk about something that Joel quickly loses track of when he hears your voice.

“Hi Bryce.” you smile gently, looking over the rack of clothes you stood behind. You were only a few feet from them, and Joel almost wonders how he didn’t see you until now. 

“Hi Juliet.” The smile that hangs off of his lips is gentle and you have to ignore the way your heart thumps in your chest. It’s easy to do when there’s two other people there for you to acknowledge. You scoff at the name, though you should’ve expected it at this point. 

“Are these your frat brothers?” Travis and Nolan share a look that’s beyond confused. They’re both even further confused at the fact that Joel is acting like this is normal, like you’re not calling him by the wrong name and asking him about a frat he isn’t even in. 

“Wanna take a crack at ‘em?” you hum, pausing your browsing for clothes to lean your arm on the rack and thumb through names one more time. 

“James,” you point at Travis, “and Grayson.” Nolan smiles at the name that came completely out of left field, and Travis lets out a laugh that’s almost uncontrollable. They’re not sure where that came from, but it’s surely entertaining for them. 

“You’re so far off you’re not even in the fairway anymore.” the smile stuck on your lips has Joel’s full attention. 

“A baseball reference from a hockey player? Interesting.” you hum softly and Travis’s jaw goes slack. He assumed you had no idea what they did or who they were, given your clueless guesses of what their names would be. Alongside that, you’ve been calling them frat boys the entire time you’ve been in front of them. It was all confusing and he wasn’t sure how Joel was keeping up with it all. 

“Well Juliet, you up for a name swap now?” Nolan’s hit with the realization of who you are then, shocked to find out that you went out of your way to speak to Joel first. He was sure that Joel just had someone to look at for the remainder of the night, not one that would acknowledge him outside of a bar on Saturday night. He had no idea that you were the girl Morgan was telling him about the next morning. 

“Would you stop calling me Juliet if you knew my name?” the way his nose scrunches has your smile growing, and Travis and Nolan pick up on it quickly. They don’t know you but they know Joel, and he never acts like this with anybody in front of them. It’s always a goofy and confident demeanor that gets him to home plate, not this playful banter in the middle of a department store. 

“Probably not.” you hum, plucking the shirt that caught your eye off of the rack and walking to the end of the section. 

“Then it looks like you’re still Bryce.” you shrug gently and walk away, leaving Joel with a dazed smile and a far off look in his eyes. 

That and two very confused friends that would be demanding an explanation out of him. 

It feels like forever passes before he sees you again. He’s caught off guard, almost slammed into the boards when he comes to a screeching halt at the glass in front of you. You’re wearing a Flyers shirt, which is a good start, but he notices it’s not a jersey and it doesn’t have his name or number on it. 

Your eyes light up when there’s a knock on the glass that has you looking up from your phone and over to the boy that’s a complete mystery to you. You smile brightly and wave, surprising the people that are sitting around you and your friends. Gage, your best friend since sophomore year of college, looks between you and Joel and can’t believe that you’re waving at him like it’s nothing. 

“You know Joel Farabee?” he asks and you shrug gently, about to explain when Joel signals things to you that you have to spell out for yourself. 

Wait for me.

You nod and shoot him a thumbs up, a sign that you heard him and would indeed wait for him after the game. You know you’ll have to fight off your friends afterwards, explaining to them how you knew Joel and why he was “infatuated with you” as Gage claimed him to be. Gage is now aware of why you suddenly had an interest in going to a Flyers game with the group, as opposed to all the times he’s asked you to come with him and you’ve denied him. 

Joel scores and gets two assists in that game, and you’re on your feet for all of them. He looks up at you after he scores and smiles brightly, nothing but the hope in his mind that you’ll wait for him after the game. 

You do, as promised, and he runs down the steps with wet hair and a wide smile before he jumps on the step beside you, plopping down in the seat right next to you. 

“Hey Juliet.” you roll your eyes but smile, a smile that Joel’s eyes latch onto and his heart yearns for. 

You’re beautiful, that much Joel is sure about. He doesn’t know your name but he knows that this is the third time he’s run into you, though it’s hardly out of nowhere, and he’s sure that he wants to know more about you. He wants to know how you’re wired, what makes you smile and what makes you tick. He wants to know your darkest thoughts and your happiest days. He wants to learn everything there is to know about you, but he knows that he has a lot to go through in order to get there. 

“Good game, Bryce.” he laughs gently and lets a soft silence fall over the two of you before turning towards you with a wide grin that has you worried about what’s to come. 

“Do you want to go grab a cup of coffee?” you mock a gasp, hand pressed to your chest and feigned offense. 

“Are you trying to seduce me, Bryce? Because I hate to break it to you, superstar, but I’m not going home with you tonight.”

“I didn’t expect you to. I do, however, expect you to call me my name now that you obviously know it.” you hummed for a second, pretending to think about it before shaking your head gently. 

“I think Bryce suits you, and I know you’re still going to call me Juliet.”

“Only because I still don’t know your name.” 

“That’s what makes this so much fun.” you whispered gently, squeezing his thigh before popping up onto your feet and holding your hand out. “Let’s go get coffee.”

He takes you to a 24 hour diner you’ve never seen before, one that he swears is better than any other diner you’ve been to. He only laughs a little when you order a strawberry milkshake instead of a coffee, and you gasp when he orders a chocolate one. 

You’re there for a few hours, losing track of time as the two of you dive into random facts and stories that have the other enthralled. You learn about Joel’s upbringing, how he grew up playing hockey and despite always being one of the smaller guys, he made sure he was one of the strongest. You tell him about growing up a football fan, not much interest in hockey due to all of the violence. 

The two of you are lost in conversation, not paying attention to either of your phones or any of the clocks on the walls. You find yourself letting down your walls slightly, more than you normally would with someone you hardly know, but that’s the thing. You’ve only met Joel a few times, never calling him by his name and never offering up your own, but you feel like you’ve known him for years. 

You feel like he’s important in your life, despite just entering it a few weeks ago. You’re not sure where he fits into it, if he’ll fit into it, but you’re sure you have to try. You’re sure that the feeling in the pit of your stomach isn’t a coincidence, and that the way your heart flutters every time he laughs or smiles is completely brand new and you never want it to stop. 

Your bubble is popped when you catch the eyes of someone you went to high school with, someone you barely like and has never given you more than a headache and a coffee stain on your perfectly thought out essay on how the education system fucking sucks. 

“Y/n! Hi!” you bite down on your lip and look at Joel for a second, who’s sending you a shit eating grin while he sips on his milkshake. 

“Hi.” you turn to Stacy, the girl now standing at the end of your table that’s trying to look interested in seeing you for the first time since graduation. In all reality, you know she’s here for Joel. The way she leans onto the table and pushes her breasts in his face is telling enough. 

But Joel doesn’t pay much mind to her. He offers her a gentle greeting and a handshake when she silently sticks her hand in her direction, but he turns to you after that’s over and gives you his undivided attention. 

Stacy gets the idea that she’s not entirely welcome and leaves soon after she leaves, but the damage is done. It’s evident that Joel both heard and remembered your name falling from his lips, because as soon as she stalks off and out of the diner, his grin has reached a level of annoyance that has you wanting to smack it right off his face. 

“Hi y/n.” you want to be mad, but the way your name falls off his lips has you swooning in ways you didn’t think were possible. You find yourself tripping over yourself while sitting down, and you’re not sure how to handle it. 

The sigh that tumbles past your lips is covered by a smile, and the way Joel raises his eyebrows at you shows that he’s waiting for you to return the sentiment. 

“Hi Joel.” he’s never smiled so wide, cheeks aching from the movement but he laughs anyways. He dives back into his story about setting off a smoke bomb in the locker room a few months ago, and you’re enthralled all over again. 

-

bee taglist; @extratragic​ @pierreslucdubois​

[matthewtkachuk]

how to be a heartbreaker: rule five - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 4.8k

a/n: here she is the last rule. all i have to say is we’re sorry and we love yall so much, don’t cancel us on the dash. please please please leave us feedback, freya and i read every comment and cry, love you guys so much!!

“Is this last rule even necessary?” you rolled your eyes, listening to JJ blabber on and on. John B jumped in now and again to add extra information that JJ glossed over but for the most part, your blonde friend took the lead again.

Kie chimed in, “I don’t think that y/n of all people needs to be reminded not to fall.”

“Yeah, do i look stupid enough to fall for Rafe Cameron’s charms?” You said, giving JJ an inquisitive look. 

JJ smirked at you, shrugging his shoulders, “Look, I trust you but you John B thought it might be a good one to add.” 

“You never know what life could throw at you, kid,” John B chuckled, sipping on his bottle of beer, “to be on the safe side.” 

You stood from the couch, a grin on your face as your hands rested on your hips, you looked at each one of your friends in the eye. “I promise you all now, I will not fall in love with Rafe Cameron.” JJ smirked at your response to the worried looks, reaching out to do your handshake with him before he started to talk about the next rule.

“Rule five: when they call, don’t be the first to fall”

Weeks passed in a blur, punctuated with spending more and more time with Rafe - more movie dates in the back of his truck, spending time at the driving range as he jokingly accused you of embracing your inner kook, taking you for rides on his yacht (which you had to admit was much more impressive than the HMS Pogue), and eventually taking you to that fancy restaurant on the coast. It was also interspersed with less and less time spent with the Pogues, you were pulling away from them whether you realized it or not.

On a night when Pope finally convinced you to spend time with them all, you were perched on a broken lawn chair as your friends sat around the dying fire with you. 

As you sat there, nursing a can of warming PBR, your mind wandered to what a certain kook was doing. You thought about the way he made you laugh, how his body felt against yours, the slow way he claimed your body and your mouth, the look in his eyes after you had both finished, sweaty and spent, wrapped in each other’s arms. You thought about the soft way he played with your hair as you laid your head on his chest, the way it felt to fall asleep next to him, and the soft and quiet joy you felt waking up with his arm around your waist. Panic set in as you realized the implications of your feelings. Your.... feelings. You felt your chest tighten and your eyes widen as you began to comprehend the truth, stupid bet and stupider plan be damned, you were falling for public enemy number one, Rafe Cameron himself. Your mouth went dry and you began to have difficulties breathing. Suddenly a mess of blonde hair was in your face as JJ kneeled in front of you. Despite your earlier fight, you were still his best friend and when JJ noticed you about to slip into a panic attack, he reacted quickly. 

You vaguely recognized the words leaving his mouth as your name and, ‘are you okay?’ but the sight of him was distressing you more. How could you be falling in love with Rafe Cameron when you were already deeply in love with the boy in front of you? The two were bitter enemies, no love lost between them. The thought distressing you more and more you could only shake your head and weakly attempt to push his hands from their place on your knee, gasping out “Pope, I need Pope.”

JJ’s face fell, the realization that he’s no longer the one you turn to for comfort stings but he calls out for Pope, stepping back at letting his friend help you through it. He watched intently as Pope calmed you down, breathing with you and trying to get you to focus on his voice and your surroundings. JJ stumbled over a branch, watching you grip to Pope like a lifeline, and he realized then that he lost you. He hasn’t seen you in weeks, and if he did, it was for ten minutes maximum. He’d come by your house and it’d be empty, he’d wait in your bedroom and each time your bed looked as if it hadn’t been used in days. His messages went unanswered and it was getting hard to ignore the gossip of Rafe Cameron dating a pogue that fell off every middle aged woman’s tongue as he mowed their lawn. 

He took one last look at you before turning his back to his friends and stalking away from the chateau with only one mission evident in his blurry mind. He ignored the protests of Kie and John B, feeling his friend grip his wrist to stop him but he made a clear break to his bike, jumping on it and starting the engine, making a beeline to figure eight. 

An hour or two later you were making your way down the beach away from your friends. You had noticed JJ wasn’t there when you’d finally calmed down in Pope’s arms, but you just shrugged it off, assuming he’d found some blonde barbie touron and gone home with her. Your heart was pounding in your chest at the anticipation of seeing Rafe, he had messaged you earlier to meet him down by the lifeguard station. Despite your earlier freak out, you knew that your feelings for Rafe were genuine and you couldn’t wait to see him, to put all this behind you and start a real relationship with him, if he’d have you.

Spotting his tall figure sitting on the beach, you smiled to yourself and approached him quietly, covering his eyes with your hands and placing a soft kiss on his cheek. You felt him tense up, and your brows furrowed, Rafe had never acted so stiffly around you. Not since you’d started whatever was going on between you. 

“You don’t have to do that,” he spoke lowly, sounding as though his throat was raw as he pulled your hands off of him. 

“D-Do what?” you asked, stepping in front of him and grabbing his face in your hands. He leant into your touch for a moment, eyes closed before they slowly opened, revealing his red eyes. 

“Pretend,” he looked right into your eyes and deep into your soul as you felt your heart shatter. 

“Pretend? Rafe?” you don’t know why you were asking him, the realization had set in quickly that JJ wasn’t off with some touron, he was off ruining your happiness. Rafe stood up from the sand, his stature towering over you but he didn’t look as intimidating or as confident as he usually did, he looked heart broken. You had done it, you thought bitterly to yourself. You had perfected how to be a heartbreaker.

“Maybank told me everything, your stupid little plan, the stupid bet. All of it,” 

 “R-Rafe,” your voice broke, taking a step closer to him but he stumbled away from you, “It’s not what you think.”

Rafe scoffed drily, shaking his head, “You’re going to do that now? I know everything, y/n! You can’t fucking deny it! I trusted you with things, I-I opened up to you about everything… my mother,” he cried, ignoring the tears that were streaming down his cheeks. He didn’t care how he looked in this moment, he couldn’t care less if someone was filming him to expose him at some big party; he fell in love with you and he was broken, he wanted you to know how you made him feel.

“Rafe, when I agreed to do this, I wasn’t thinking about the ending… I was just thinking about how to get back at you for all the shit you put us through.”

A loud, heavy sigh passed his lips and the anger furried behind the agony, “That’s the problem with you and your fuckin pogues,” Rafe snapped,  “You think you’re all innocent and I'm this awful monster you can pin the blame on. As if Maybank doesn’t start half, if not more of our fights, as if he’s never said something disgusting about my sister to me thinking he could get away with that. As if you didn’t pretend to fall in love with me just to see the look in my eyes when you tell me it was all a lie.” 

“Yes, okay, I admit it, I was pretending at the start,” you shouted at him, feeling all your emotions piling over the edge, “But I wasn’t pretending for the last few weeks. Rafe I-” You blinked back tears, sobs threatening to rip from your lips, “I fell in love with you too.”

“How do I know you aren’t pretending right now? I bet that would be real funny to you and your friends, convince me that you’re in love with me too just to make it hurt even more when you pull the rug out for real.” He shook his head in utter disbelief. He couldn’t believe he had been so wrong about you. He thought that you cared for him, that you wanted him as badly as he wanted you. When JJ had showed up at his house, Rafe hadn’t believed him at first, you couldn’t be that cruel. But the look on your face when he said ‘you don’t have to do that’ confirmed it all for him. Rafe thought the worst pain he would ever feel in his life was standing over his mother’s casket at her funeral, but this came close. 

“I'm not, Rafe, trust me… I’ve never felt this way about anyone and yes, I’ll forever regret how it started but-”

“You already won, you don’t have to pretend anymore,” he shook his head, interrupting you and turning to walk away.

“Rafe, stop!” you begged, grabbing onto his wrist, but he easily shook you off. 

“Congratulations, you got what you wanted, I fell in love with you,” Rafe muttered, disdain dripping from his tongue,  “I hope you and Maybank are really happy together, don’t ever speak to me again,” he snarled, giving you one last look before he walked away from you. 

“Rafe, please,” You begged, before you felt your knees give out, collapsing into the sand. The sobs you had barely been keeping at bay finally escaped your lips, the sound heart wrenching to anyone who was unfortunate to be near enough to hear them.

JJ must have been nearby, because he was on you in a second, “y/n?!” He was gripping your shoulders, attempting to pull you in for a hug, but you shoved him as hard as you could away from you, and frantically clawed at the sand to propel you backwards, away from him.

"This is all your fault!" You wanted to scream and shout at the top of your lungs, but you couldn't, your voice was a weak whimper. JJ watched you intently, his heart slowing at the sight of you, tears streaming down your face. He can count the amount of times he'd seen you cry on one hand, and it was a sight he wanted to erase from his mind completely.

"Y/n, i-" but he didn't know what to say. He knew what he'd done, he wasn't thinking about you when he said those words. He was solely focused on breaking Rafe's heart that he never considered yours.

“I know you couldn’t ever love someone like me, but that didn’t mean you had the right to stop everyone else from it. Am I that repulsive, that disgusting that you feel the need to ruin any chance I have at happiness?” You sobbed, head falling into your hands. You knew JJ would never love you the way you wanted, and you knew that he was always threatening boys to keep them away from you, but you never thought he would actually do this.

“Y/n, that’s- that’s not-” he was struggling to find the words to say to show you that wasn’t how he felt about you at all. 

"I-I'm done, JJ, I'm done chasing something that will never happen," You shook your head, voice hoarse from the screaming and the crying. The one man you wanted to wrap his arms around you and comfort you couldn’t even look at you anymore; the man you shared the softest of moments with in such a short span of time, the man that made you feel something, made you feel wanted and loved. 

“Y/n, we can work this out,” JJ pleaded, kneeling down in front of you but you shook your head, pushing him away again. “You’re my best friend and I love you, y/n.”

You choked out a strangled laugh, “Love? Fuck you JJ, you don’t know the meaning of the word.”

“That’s not true, I know I love you.” He pleaded again, stupidly reaching for you a third time. But this time his fingers wrapped around your wrist, pulling you to him and he crashed his lips against yours. You struggled against him, his grip strong and tight until you bit his lip. He let go of your wrists in shock and you took the opportunity to slap his cheek as hard as you could. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You cried at him, “You can’t just do that to me JJ. You know that I have been in love with you our whole lives, you don’t get to do this right now. You don’t get to do this ever.” You finally managed to get up, tears falling from your face.

“Y/n, I-” he started again, realizing that he had well and truly fucked up this time, possibly ruining your friendship beyond repair.

“Congratulations, you broke Rafe Cameron’s heart… but you also broke mine.” You spit at him and walked into the night.

JJ sat there on his knees for a moment in shock, staring at his hands that had just held you. His lips were tingling with a kiss that he had craved since the first and last time when you were both fourteen. But it was all wrong. He had waited too long, thinking that you would always just be there in the wings, waiting for him to get his shit together and then you could be together. He had always just taken for granted his beautiful best friend, the one who he swore up and down he didn’t have feelings for, but deep down he always knew he did.

One minute, he’s wallowing in the consequence of his actions, the next, Pope is shoving him, telling him to ‘get up’.

“You idiot!” Pope shouted. JJ had never seen his best friend this mad before, and never at him. Not when JJ had pulled that gun on Topper, not when they had sunk that boat, not even when JJ had attacked you for sleeping with Rafe. But here Pope was, practically shaking with rage that was all directed at him. “When I said tell her how you feel, I didn’t mean destroy her relationship with Rafe and attack her with your face.”

“Yeah, but it was a relationship with Rafe. Cameron.” JJ enunciated the syllables of his enemies first and last name. 

“A relationship that you unconsciously set up, and no matter who it is with, y/n is our best friend! We should support it, but we’ll never get the chance now because y/n is a sobbing mess in the house adamant that Rafe wants nothing to do with her. Because of you!” 

“I- I didn’t want to hurt her,” JJ lamely replied, eyes downcast on the sand rather than look into the rightfully furious eyes of his best friend.

“And what did you think was going to happen when you exposed the plan to Rafe? Or when you tried to kiss y/n right after her heart was torn out of her chest, huh? What is wrong with you?”

“I wasn’t really thinking, man,” JJ ran his hands over his face, exhaling loudly. 

“Clearly,” Pope replied drily, shaking his head at the idiocy of his best friend, wondering if there was a way to fix this, or if JJ had ruined everything.

Only a few feet away, you lay curled up against Kie’s side as she stroked your hair and let you cry on her shoulder. “I love him, Kie, I love him and he wants nothing to do with me. And he’s right to want nothing to do with me. What do I do?”

“Right now, you sleep it off.” She said softly, not understanding your love for the boy who had only ever made your friends’ lives hell, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t support it, support you. You loved her for that.

“And then?” You whispered sleepily, the exhaustion of the last hour of your life seeping deep into your bones.

“I believe if two people are meant to be together, eventually they’ll find their way back.” 

Tag list:

htbah taglist (link to add yourself to the google form in the series masterlist!): 

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @nqbmf @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @mozz-are-lla @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @httpstarkey @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx @trinnwazheree @stargazingstarkey @obx-saltlife @juliarose21​ @hyperactive2411​ @mcarignan​ @feyrecauldron-blessed​ @sportygal55​ @popcrone818​ @wtfkie​ @raekenliar @letsgotothehop​ @walkingtothesun​ @outerbanksbro​ @summerkaulitz​​ @glux64​ @itslilithsstuff​ @softsunlightskies @kaitieskidmore1​ @mycowatemyhw​​ @poguepunk​​

rodeo rafe babies who said they were interested:

@royalmerchant​ @outerbankslut​ @honeyycheek​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless​ @girlsru1eboysdroo1​ @https-luna​ @butgilinsky​ @rae131415​

diverdcwn everything taglist:

@velyssaraptor​ @danicarosaline​ @copper-boom​ @x-lulu​ @prejudic3​ @downbytheouterbanks​ @ilovejjmaybank​ @bricksatanakinswindow​ @jellyfishbeansontoast​ @sunwardsss​ @rudyypankow​ @im-a-stranger-thing​ @alexa-playafricabytoto​ @maybankfullkook​ @sortagaysortahigh​ @socialwriter​ @bluesiderudy​ @anxietyandtacos​ @diverrdown​ @stargazingstarkey​

[be11atrixthestrange]

The Loft Chapter 4

After a bad break-up, Hermione Granger moves into a messy and dysfunctional loft with four single men. What starts as a temporary home until she gets back on her feet becomes so much more, as she learns there's a lot of life - and love - that happens at rock-bottom.

Inspired by the TV Series ‘New Girl’

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Also on A03 | FFN

More Chapters

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Chapter 4

[Ron]

Ron would best describe the loft as a mess, but a clean one. After hours of scrubbing, the windows are clear and smudge-free, and the concrete floor shimmers with its long-forgotten natural color. What makes him feel most at home, however, is not the fresh pine scent of the couch cushions, but the fact that they're strewn about the floor like plush stepping stones. The boys have arranged them around the trash can in the middle of the room, which is empty save for a dried-up bottle of Febreeze.

Ron's desperate to know Hermione's opinion on the new decor. Despite lifting an eyebrow at the bad doodles of United States presidents and the cardboard cutout of a bald eagle plastered to the wall, she doesn't say anything. She must know better than to think he'll offer an explanation.

After cleaning and decorating the loft, Neville, Seamus, and Harry dispersed into their rooms to make themselves presentable, leaving Ron and Hermione alone in the kitchen to finish up the last of the dishes. He hands her a plate to dry, and she takes it with a smile.

"Thank you for helping, Hermione."

"Of course! But I'm not sure why we're cleaning so much if it's just going to get trashed."

Trashed might be an exaggeration, but she's right in the sense that the new cleanliness of the loft isn't going to last very long. Tonight they're throwing a party, Hermione's first as a loft resident, and she's in for a treat. The boys have been purposely vague regarding loft parties, as any accurate descriptions might turn her off attending. Ron would hate to have her make other plans tonight, whether those be with the girls, or worse, a date.

"Hey, we're not animals. But if it's going to get trashed, it's nice to know it's new-trashed, not old-trashed," he says, earning an eye-roll from Hermione.

"So I'm guessing that this party is America-themed?"

"No. Why would you guess that?"

"No reason," she says, eyeing the miniature blow-up Uncle Sam doll that the boys have been tossing around like a basketball.

"The decorations are just for the drinking game we're going to play," he says, motioning to the multiple cases of PBR lining the wall.

"Right, how do you play?"

"It's not really a game you can explain. You just have to experience it. Nice try, though."

"Then I look forward to experiencing it." She finishes drying the last dish and stacks it away neatly in the cupboard. "What else do we need to set up? Everyone's coming at eight, right?

Ron checks his watch. "Shit, you're right. People should be here soon. I'm going to get ready. Can you start on the beer castle?"

"The beer castle?"

"Yeah. Just stack beer cans in a castle shape around the trash can in the living room."

Ron doesn't wait for Hermione's reaction before he slips back into his room. He rummages around his closet in search of something to wear, something that makes him look both put-together and laid back, ready to party. He lands on a pair of khaki shorts and a pastel blue t-shirt that looks quite nice with his eyes.

He's pretty sure Hermione hasn't seen him in it. Not that it matters, anyway.

He pulls off his shirt and catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Surprisingly, he looks pretty damn good. He's a bit skinny but firm and fit. It comes as a pleasant surprise because he's been slacking on his workouts ever since Hermione moved in and he lost his home gym. It's been difficult to exercise in his tiny bedroom, so he doesn't. He hasn't wanted to work out in the living room for fear of Hermione seeing him, but maybe he should give that a try…

With a shrug, Ron pulls off his pants and stands back up. He can't resist the urge to take another look at himself in the mirror. As much as he wishes he was a bit more muscular, there are pros to being lanky. By comparison, his scrawny self really does accentuate his already well-endowed state.

He checks himself out from a few more angles before deciding that physically, he doesn't have much to complain about.

Before he has the chance to put on his pants, the door to his bedroom swings open. Ron startles when it crashes against the wall and Hermione barges in uninvited.

"Hey Ron, I have a question about the beer can castle—"

"Hermione!" Ron, completely naked, scrambles for something to cover himself with but doesn't have time before she's standing right in front of him. "You have to knock!"

She's staring at the two cans in her hands until she pauses and looks up, but her gaze never makes it to his face. Instead, it lands directly on his penis, and she seems to stare at it for an eternity. Thanks to his utter panic, Ron can't move.

It almost feels like time has stopped, and he's frozen there like the statue of David while Hermione ogles him. She appears to be frozen too, eyes wide, mouth agape, staring.

If his dick could blush, it would match the color of his ears, which are bleeding scarlet.

For a split second, he wonders if it's truly as bad as it seems. Maybe Hermione likes what she sees. A tiny seed of hope takes root.

But that hope shatters when she opens her mouth to speak and lets out the worst sound he's ever heard. It's somewhere between a scream and a giggle, and he wouldn't wish such a reaction on his worst enemy.

Without further ado, a red-faced Hermione mutters a quick and useless 'sorry' and rushes out the door and slams it behind her.

Ron stands there for a few seconds, dumbfounded, before the reality of what just happened crashes down.

Hermione just laughed at his dick.

Well, fuck.

Now that he knows how she really feels, he'll never be able to look her in the eye again.

Ron stays in his room until there's a knock on the loft's door, and he has to show his face in order to let in his guests. He's opted for a hoodie over his shirt so he can hide behind the hood whenever Hermione looks at him, because when she does, his neck prickles with heatwaves, and he feels like he's naked again.

It doesn't make sense — Ron's never reacted so strongly to having a woman see him naked, and he's had a decent amount of experience in that arena. He's no Seamus, of course, but he's not a stranger to the occasional hookup.

It's just because she laughed—no other reason.

He opens the door to find his sister Ginny, her roommate Demelza, and two of their mutual friends—Dean and Luna.

"Welcome," says Ron, opening the door.

"Hey, Ron!" says Ginny. "Hermione!"

Ginny crashes into Hermione for a hug, then introduces her to everyone else. "This is Hermione, Ron's new roommate."

"Nice to meet you all!"

Hermione falls into easy conversation with Ron's friends before they get a chance to greet him, but they don't seem bothered by it. He watches her through narrowed eyes and doesn't even realize he's glaring at her until she looks at him and scowls.

"What?"

"Nothing." He turns back toward his friends, hoping they didn't notice their interaction. "Make yourselves at home. Drinks in the fridge, food on the counter, and you know where the beer is," he says, pointing at the beer castle.

Harry turns the music up just as their guests crack open their beers, and everyone starts to relax. Except for Ron, of course. Even though he's hyper-aware of Hermione, he still manages to bump into her and make more frequent eye contact than he'd like.

For some reason, they seem to gravitate toward the kitchen to replenish food and drinks at the same time, and they barely manage a conversation when they run into each other.

"Oh, sorry," she says, trying to slide past him, only for him to walk directly into her in an attempt to get out of her way.

"Erm—"

"I'll go left; you go right."

"Yeah, okay."

Are they always this awkward around each other?

Every time he tries to act normal, all he can hear is her weird little high-pitched scream-laugh, and he just wants to disappear into his hoodie. On occasion, Ron can sense Hermione watching him, but she looks away whenever he tries to catch her gaze. Not that he wants to make awkward eye contact with her, he just wants her to leave him alone.

He continues to keep himself at a safe distance to avoid talking to her, making sure he's always involved in a conversation with someone else. Over the course of the party, he becomes progressively more resentful of how much mental space it requires to avoid her.

Then, like a hawk, she swoops in and catches him alone while he's in the kitchen grabbing another beer.

"Ron!"

"Jesus," he says, nearly crashing into her. "You scared me."

"Why are you being so weird?"

"I'm not."

"Is it because I saw you naked?"

"No."

"It's not a big deal, Ron."

Of course, she has the nerve to act like he's the one who's being childish.

"Oh yeah, Hermione?" he says. "Then why did you laugh? Too immature?"

Hermione opens her mouth to answer, but in the moment before she does, he turns away from her and shouts to the crowd, "Who's ready for True American?"

The loft whoops their approval and begins to gather in the living room.

"Right now?" whispers Hermione behind him. "We're still talking."

But he ignores her.

"The game is True American," shouts Ron at a volume much louder than necessary for the size of the room. "Say 'aye' if you've played before."

There's a chorus of 'ayes' and a room-wide scrambling toward the furniture. When everyone hops onto a cushion, a table, or a chair, Ron notices Hermione looking around frantically, her expression disheartened.

"I'm the only one who's never played?" she asks.

"It's okay, Hermione," says Harry. "All you need to know is that it's about fifty percent drinking, fifty percent life-size Candy Land."

"I'd argue that it's seventy-five percent drinking, twenty percent Candy Land, and the floor is lava," says Ginny. "Which is why we're standing on the furniture. Hermione, you're melting."

"Oh no," she says, hopping up onto the coffee table between the beer castle and Demelza, who extends a hand to help her.

"Honestly, guys, it's ninety-percent drinking and has a very loose Candy Land-like structure to it," says Neville. "There's also a truth or dare component."

"I just need to know how to play—"

"You're smart; you'll catch on," says Ron. His tone comes off a little more terse than he'd intended, so he quickly continues, "I'll start. JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone but Hermione shuffles to a new location, avoiding the lava floor, and Hermione is left standing in her same spot between the beer castle and now, Luna.

"What just happened?" she asks, looking confused.

"Hermione, since you're the last to find a new spot, you have to pick someone, and they'll ask you a truth or dare question," explains Ginny. "Just answer and drink."

"Okay, then," she says. "Um, Neville. Truth."

"How do you like loft life?" asks Neville brightly, eliciting a groan from the crowd.

"Neville, you can do better—" starts Seamus.

"It's her first game!" he says. "Let's ease her in. So, Hermione?"

"Well, it's great so far."

"Just so you know, not every question will be that tame," says Ginny from her precarious perch on the armchair.

"Go figure," says Hermione before chugging back a gulp of her PBR.

As soon as she swallows her drink, Neville shouts out, "The only thing we have to fear is…"

"Fear itself!"

When the crowd joins in, Hermione looks around the room, dumbfounded.

"Hermione, you didn't complete the quote," says Harry.

"I didn't know I was supposed to!"

"Well, now you do! Drink, and then pick someone."

"I feel like I'm at a disadvantage since you didn't explain the game," she says, challenging Harry.

"We've all been there," Harry says, shrugging, "It's a rite of passage."

"Fine," Hermione takes a long swig and points at Ginny. "Ginny, truth."

"Sweet!" says Ginny, beaming mischievously. "Hermione, are you attracted to anyone in the loft?"

Ron's ears tingle at Ginny's question, and he tunes in for Hermione's answer.

"Nope," she says, taking a hasty drink.

In his curiosity, Ron has made prolonged eye contact with Hermione for the first time since the penis-incident, but when she catches his gaze, he quickly looks away. Ron's stomach clenches. Not that he wants Hermione to be attracted to him, but after she saw him naked, it's quite the low blow. Trying to look casual, he pulls back a swig of beer.

"Really?" presses Seamus. "None of us?"

"Ginny's turn!" says Hermione, ignoring Seamus' question.

"Alright, here we go," says Ginny, her eyes narrowed in concentration. "Abe Lincoln! George Washington!"

"Cherry Tree!" shouts Ron.

"Correct! Pick a person and an amendment!"

"Hermione, second."

Everyone looks at Hermione, and Ginny tosses her an unopened can of beer.

"I don't understand," she says. "You still haven't given me any information."

"You have to shotgun a beer! And then pick someone to ask truth or dare," says Dean.

"Wait, what? That doesn't make any sense."

"Give it time, Hermione," encourages Neville. "I didn't understand it at first either."

Hermione groans and sets down her half-full PBR, and reaches into her pocket for her key. She stabs the bottom of her can, then tips it into her mouth, chugging it down while the loft's onlookers cheer in the background.

Eyebrows raised, Ron watches her shotgun her beer, trying to ignore the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He never thought he'd see that, and he isn't complaining.

"Yeah, there's no going back now," says Hermione once she finishes. "Luna, truth."

"Yay!" says Luna. "Did you and Ron get into a fight? You've been avoiding each other all night."

Ron's face grows hot. He bores his gaze toward Luna, who is staring intently at Hermione and doesn't seem to notice Ron's glare.

"Is that really your question?" she asks.

"Yep!"

"Luna, you've never seen us interact," says Ron. "How would you know that?"

Luna shrugs. "I can just tell."

"You know what," says Harry as he looks between Ron and Hermione. "You two have been acting weird tonight."

"Is it that obvious?" asks Hermione.

Ron feels Hermione's eyes on him, and his palms break out in a sweat. Once again, his refusal to make direct eye contact probably serves as a sufficient answer to Hermione's question.

"Well, fine then," she says, turning back toward Luna. "Earlier, I walked in on him changing. But it wasn't a big deal."

"Ron, is this true?" asks Harry.

Everyone turns to look at Ron, who groans. "Yes, but as she said, it wasn't a big deal."

His roommates might as well be shining an interrogation light on him by the way they all continue to stare.

"If it wasn't a big deal, why are you all fidgety?" asks Seamus.

"I'm not," says Ron, but his defensive tone suggests otherwise.

"Yeah, women have seen you naked before, Ron," says Luna. "Why is it different with Hermione?"

"Whose turn is it?" says Ron, much louder than necessary. Anything to divert the attention from Luna's oddly specific question.

"Oh, it's my turn," says Luna. "One, two, three, go!"

Luna holds up the number five to her forehead, and everyone else follows suit with their own number. Ron looks frantically around the room and breathes a sigh of relief when he matches numbers with Harry.

It appears that Hermione, who was the last to catch on, as usual, is the only one without a partner.

"Not again!" she says. "But at least that one made sense. Seamus, truth."

"Are you sure you want to do that?" asks Ginny.

But it's too late. Seamus, who is already slurring his words, looks at Hermione and asks, "So, Hermione, what does Ron's dick look like?"

"Dude, what the fuck?" shouts Ron.

"Seriously, Seamus," adds Harry. "That's not even an interesting question."

"Sure, it is! I'm interested!"

"Old news," pipes in Neville. "We've all seen Ron's dick."

Embarrassed, Ron glances toward Hermione. She looks lost for words. "You don't have to answer, Hermione."

"No, we haven't!" says Seamus.

"Really?" says Dean as he side-eyes Seamus. "I've seen it, and I don't even live here."

Ron looks toward the loft door. Maybe he can make a run for it.

"Am I the only roommate who hasn't seen your dick?" asks Seamus, now appearing uninterested in Hermione's answer. When everyone in the room turns to look at Ron, he feels like he's naked in a crowd again.

Ron shrugs. "I guess so," he says, casually taking a sip of his beer.

"When? Where?"

"I don't know, dude. Locker rooms, penis fights, I'm sure you'll see it someday," says Ron. "Can we stop talking about my dick, now?"

"Yes, let's move on," says Hermione with an apologetic glance in Ron's direction. "Just ask me a different question."

"Fine," says Seamus, his words melding together, "Hermione, what did you think of Ron's dick?"

"Seriously, Seamus?"

"I guess we can't," mutters Ron.

Hermione rolls her eyes. "Whatever. He has a very nice penis."

"I wouldn't know," says Seamus bitterly. Then, just as quickly, "JFK!"

"FDR!"

Everyone scrambles for a new spot, and this time Ron's the only one left out in the shuffle.

"Fuck," he says, looking around for someone who won't ask him a dick-related question. "Uh, Demelza, truth."

Demelza smiles. "How did Hermione react to seeing your dick?"

"I picked you because I thought you wouldn't ask about my dick, Demelza."

"Sorry," shrugs Demelza.

"It wasn't a big deal," says Hermione.

Before he can stop himself, Ron scoffs, and once again, everyone snaps their heads in his direction.

"Sounds like it was a big deal."

"It wasn't!" says Hermione. "I mean—"

"Hermione, don't," says Ron, but Hermione continues without a missed beat.

"I laughed at first, but only because I was nervous."

"You LAUGHED?" asked Demelza. "No wonder you two are being so weird."

"It was an accident!"

"Let's move on," growls Ron. "Demelza, your turn." He shoots a glare in Hermione's direction.

"Niagara!" says Demelza.

Everyone brings their drink to their mouth and begins chugging. As soon as each person finishes, they toss their empty cans to the PBR castle in the middle of the room. Hermione, having caught on a moment too late, is the last one to toss it.

Hermione groans. "Harry, dare."

Harry grins. "Well, to make Ron feel better, I dare you to repeat after me. I love Ron's cock."

Ron's ears grow warm again, but they're also buzzing from the beer, which takes precedence over his embarrassment. Also, it'll be interesting to hear Hermione follow through with this dare.

Hermione narrows her eyes at him. "Fine. I love Ron's penis."

Ron sends her a curious glance. She said it so… formally, like she was taking an oath in court.

There's a tense silence while everyone stares at Hermione. "Try again," says Harry.

"Why?"

"I love Ron's cock," he repeats. "Say it."

"I did."

"You said penis. Not cock."

"Same thing!" she protests.

"Hermione, why can't you say cock?" repeats Harry.

"Penis is the technical term," she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Ron chuckles at the argument playing out before him.

"What about dick?" suggests Demelza.

Hermione stares at Demelza, her cheeks flooding with color. "Why?"

"Schlong? Wang? Knob?" offers Seamus.

"Seriously, what's wrong with 'penis'?"

"Nothing, it's just weird that you won't say cock," says Harry. "I think that should require two drinks for refusing a dare."

Ron looks around the room; everyone nods in agreement.

"Fine," says Hermione before taking a second sip.

As soon as she finishes her sip, Harry shouts, "Give me liberty or—"

"Give me death!"

As assumed, Hermione is the only one who doesn't catch on.

"Ugh," she says. "Dean, dare."

"I dare you to make it even!" slurs Dean.

"What does that mean?"

"He showed you his; now you show him yours."

"Executive order," says Ginny. "Vetoed."

"Why?" asks Ron. "I don't think it's a bad idea. Plus, it would make me feel better." He pouts at Hermione with wide, puppy-dog eyes and grins when her cheeks flood with color. He's well aware that she never responded to Dean.

"Too far, that's why," says Ginny.

"Well," says Ron. "You guys are no fun."

There's a moment of silence when no one seems to remember where they are in the game or whose turn it is. Seamus breaks the silence with a question directed at Ron.

"Can I please just see it?"

Ron groans and rolls his eyes. "No. And I'm going to bed."

"Why?" whines Seamus.

"I didn't think my dick would be such a huge topic of conversation, yet here we are."

"More of a slightly above average topic if you ask me," says Harry.

"See what I mean?" says Ron, as he hops off his cushion and turns his back to the crowd. "Goodnight."

x

After chugging a tall glass of water, Ron retreats to his room for the night, ready to escape his roommates' drunken shenanigans. He changes into sweats, settles underneath the covers, and is about to turn off the lights when there's a knock at his door.

"Erm, come in."

The door creaks open, and Hermione pokes her head into his room. "Hi," she says.

"Hi," he responds, raising his eyebrows at his unexpected guest. "Thank you for knocking."

"So—"

"I'm not naked. Sorry to disappoint you." He cuts her off, aiming for an icy tone, but unfortunately, it comes off whiny.

Maybe he has been acting a bit petty and childish.

She stares at him, expressionless, for a few tense moments and then bursts out into laughter. He can't help but follow suit. Her laughter is quite contagious when he's fully clothed.

"For the record, I'm not laughing at the thought of you naked," she assures him as if reading his mind.

"Sure, Hermione. Sure," he says. His cheeks are heating up, but he's glad it's not from embarrassment this time.

"I meant it, you know," she says, as soon as her laughter dies down.

"You meant what?"

"That you have a very nice—" she clears her throat, "cock."

Ron beams — at both the compliment and her word choice. "You said cock!"

She stands a little taller. "I've been practicing."

"Say it again!" he urges.

"Please don't make me."

"Pretty please—"

"Fine," she says, taking a step, so she's fully in the room. The door closes behind her. "Cock. Dick. Schlong. Willy."

"Okay, now you're embarrassing yourself."

"Give me more words," she says, now grinning. "I want to prove that I can do it."

"Okay, why don't you try Peter Pecker. Big Red. The Orange Cannon."

Hermione's face flashes red, and she slaps a hand to her mouth.

"Too much for you?" asks Ron.

"Did you nickname your penis?"

"No!" Ron protests, although his flushing cheeks likely give him away. "Those are from former lovers."

"Oh, well, I'm not going to say them then."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not your former lover," she argues.

He catches a slight emphasis on' former' and forces himself to keep his expression neutral. Maybe some good will come from the penis incident. Either that, or he's imagining it.

"While technically true, I still want to hear you say them."

"Too bad."

Thankful that the awkwardness seems to be dissipating, Ron grins at her. "Then you'll have to make it up to me another way."

As soon he speaks, he winces, hearing the implication of his words a moment too late. Did he actually just say that?

Hermione doesn't waste any time with her response. "How? By making it even?"

Ron cannot interpret her expression — it almost looks like she's trying to keep it neutral. In his effort to decipher it, he hesitates for too long, and by leaving her comment hanging, he might as well have agreed.

"That was actually what I came in here to do," she says, biting her lip.

"Really?"

"Yes."

At this point, it feels like his whole face is on fire, and Hermione's smirk isn't helping at all. He can't bring himself to look away from her eyes nor say anything, as the air feels too thick with tension. She could be bluffing, but he has no desire to call her on it if she is.

Is she joking?

His question answers itself when Hermione averts her eyes to the ground and hooks her thumbs at the hem of her shirt.

Holy shit. She's not.

Hermione keeps her eyes on the ground, and Ron can't help but grin at how her cheeks turn bashfully pink. He wishes he could help it because he's definitely beaming like an idiot. With a deep, nervous breath, she pulls her shirt up and over her bra—

She's not wearing a bra.

Fuck.

Ron lets out a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. "Well damn, Hermione."

Still holding up her shirt, she meets his gaze. "Yes, Ron?"

"You have amazing… knockers."

"Ron!" she says, shoving her shirt back down. He immediately misses the view, but he doesn't regret his word choice. "They're called breasts."

"Boobies. Bing Bongs. Spongey love mountains."

"And I'm the immature one?"

"Jesus, woman, just take the compliment! I'm trying to tell you that I love your tatas." He speaks before he can filter himself, hoping she doesn't read too much into his phrasing. There's nothing wrong with showing appreciation, after all.

She lets a small smile at his admission but quickly narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her now fully-clothed chest. "If I have to say cock, you have to say breasts."

"Sorry, Hermione," says Ron, his tone veering dangerously close to flirtation. Then, feeling a bit bolder, he continues, "what I meant to say is you have wonderful breasts."

Her face tinges red, and she smiles smugly. "Thank you, Ron."

"You're very welcome. Your turn."

"What?"

He motions toward his pants. "I want to hear you say it again."

She groans. "Fine, but this is the last time."

"Sure it is."

She rolls her eyes before continuing. "Ron, you have a lovely cock."

His breath hitches in his throat. Hearing her say that again definitely does something to him, and it's not helped by the sincerity in her tone. She's not lying. As a result, his hair stands on end, heat pools in his stomach, and he's thankful for the positioning of his bed covers.

"Thank you, Hermione," he responds, looking directly into her warm brown eyes. Reflecting her slight smile, they appear softer and darker than usual, as if they're deep in thought.

Ron and Hermione keep eye contact for a few elongated seconds before the awkwardness of the interaction kicks in, and they avert their eyes, looking anywhere but each other. What an odd conversation to have with a roommate.

"I should go to bed," says Hermione, pointing at the door.

"Erm, yeah. Me too."

"So I guess I'll see you in the morning?"

"Good night," he says, but Hermione's already out the door. He sighs.

It shuts behind her, and Ron turns off the light and leans back in his bed. When he closes his eyes, the image of Hermione's perfect breasts is still fresh in his mind, and he makes no effort to let it morph into something else because who knows if he'll ever get to see them again.

Why would he? She's just his roommate.

Yeah. I'm definitely attracted to my roommate.

A smile creeps onto his face. It feels good to admit it, even if it's only to himself.

[northcarolinanative]

𝐏𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐞

Requested by anon: Hi! I have a request where John b has a younger sister and her nick name is Poguie/ Little Poguie but only John b and the pogues are allowed to call her that. So one night at a boneyard party, Rafe and topper won’t leave her alone, just being annoying and low key harassing her, and one of them call her the nickname and she punches them, like no, no, can’t call me that. And Rafe is not happy about the punch, so he goes for the grab And leads to Pope, JJ and John B getting involved. Thank ya!

A/N: I have no idea how long ago you requested this but I know it was a while ago! I’m sorry!! I hope you still enjoy it! I wanted to put a little *twist* on it because that’s what I do:) As always let me know what you think:) My requests/asks/messages are open!

Warnings: Violence/Fighting 

Being John B’s half-sister was fun for the most part. I had a built-in set of friends, the pogues. Each of them being protective over me despite the minuscule age difference, less than a year, between the two of us. Kiara was the older sister that I would never have and also my ‘mom’ friend. While it was embarrassing at first to ask her questions, the older we got the more normal it became, she helped me navigate girly things that I missed out on living in a house full of boys. JJ and Pope were like two peas in a pod, one always picking or bickering with the other, but just like John B, teased me to no end, but the moment a Kook, or hell even a pogue, tried to talk to me they made sure they knew I was off-limits. 

My fingers moved swiftly across the smooth surface of my phone screen. I felt my face flushed at the words that were being written to me, but even more so from me. I had met a boy, on my way home from work on the pier. He was cute, and so far sweet and flattering. I had not met him before because he went to the Kook Academy. My phone buzzed again, signaling that I had gotten another message from him. 

Kelce: I heard there was a Party at the boneyard tonight. Do you think I could meet up with you there? 

Me: Ehhh, we’ll see;) 

I replied back quickly, a soft smile and blush rising to my face.

“Hey poguie, what are you doing?” JJ said barreling in the door, startling me. He used his knuckles to rub across my head, sending my hair flying in every which direction. I quickly locked my phone, tucking it under my leg so that they wouldn’t see I was on it. The last thing that I needed was John B or the others finding out. They would lose their minds if they found out I was talking to a boy, much less a kook. I never quite understood what they others had against the Kooks in general, sure they had their bad seeds, but so did the cut, right? 

“What are you all smiley about?” JJ asked as he made his way through the door carrying two cases of PBR in his hands. 

“Just so happy that all of you are back!” I retorted sarcastically, watching the others file in the door behind him. “What took you so long?” I joked with them. 

“What are you talking about Poguie, we’re right on time!” John B said, shitting the door behind him. I rolled my eyes looking at the clock, signaling that they were in fact an hour later than they said they’d be. “So what time is the party tonight?” 

“Eh, We’re leaving in a few minutes I think,” Kie said, fixing her watch to look at the time. “Are you coming tonight?” She said smiling. 

I blushed at her enthusiasm and nodded my head. Pope raised his eyebrows, immediately looking to see John B’s reaction. John B was pulling beers from the fridge and into the cooler that JJ was holding. He looked at me, one eyebrow raised. “You want to come?” He questioned, leaning onto the door. I just nodded my head, giving him another expression of confusion back. “Oh, just that you, you know?” He said, moving to keep stocking the cooler. “You never wanted to go before.” He shrugged

“Awe. Our little poguie is growing up!” Pope exclaimed in a mocking tone, causing me to once again roll my eyes. 

“Well if you’re coming, maybe you should, I don’t know? Help us out?” JJ deadpanned as he struggled to hold up the heavy cooler. I laughed before moving from my spot on the couch, careful to slip my phone in my back pocket. I grabbed the other handle of the cooler watching JJ dramatically wipe sweat from his forehead. 

-- 

The party took less than an hour to reach full swing. There was a mix of people around, from Pogues to Kooks, and the few Tourons that were holding to the last bit of summer vacation. The air was still warm and tinted a warm golden yellow as the sun had barely fallen behind the horizon. I was sitting on the white folding table that the boys had set up to hand out beers from. John B was pulling the cans from the cooler and passing them to JJ and Pope, who stood at the front, handing the beverages to the lines of people. The night was still young so everyone was itching to get their drinks. Kie was setting up trash cans in hopes that people would actually use them. 

I was waving at the familiar faces that came through the line and hugging a few girls that I knew from school. I was laughing with boys as they commented on the naivety of the tourons. They were all ‘so totally drunk’ off one beer. One took a sip and sighed “This is good shit,” as if it wasn’t PBR the boys stole from the gas station, causing us all to laugh. Every boy that would move to my side and talk to me quickly wandered away, I could only assume it was due to the death stares that JJ and Pope were giving them. 

Kelce caught my eye from across the way, he was on the edge of the party, drink in hand. We smiled at one another, as he waved at me. I blushed before trying to figure out a way to get out of the situation with the boys. I looked back at Kelce to see him nodded toward the fire, motioning me to join him. I nodded before turning to the boys. 

“Hey!” I said, all of them sparing a glance at me before getting back to their job, the line slowly dying down. “I’m gonna go find Kie, haven’t seen her in a bit?” I questioned. They all just nodded their heads. I smiled, suddenly feeling the nervousness in my stomach build and a small shake come to my hands. I slid myself off the small table and into the soft sand below me, I made my way through the crowd of bodies, pushing my way through. That was why I stayed away from the larger pogues parties, all the people. I finally made it through to the more open area that was around the orange fire. I locked eyes with Kelce a few feet away, he was illuminated with the same firelight that was heavy in the air. I could not hide the smile that made its way to my face. Our steps finally met in the middle and He wrapped his arms around my middle, picking me up and spinning me. I giggled at the action but hugged him back before he set me down. 

“You look really pretty tonight Y/N” He smiled at me. I felt my cheeks heat up as I took in his appearance as well. He was dressed in normal casual wear for him. He had on a teal polo that complemented his tones body nicely, dark khaki shorts, and a pair of Sperry’s. I took in his figure and looked back at his cheeky smile, realizing he totally caught me checking him out too. 

“You look pretty good too,” I said, suddenly feeling myself get shy. Kelce laughed at my new awkward tone, easing the mood a little bit. He took my hand softly, and lead me to a log on the far side of the fire. I looked over my shoulder, catching a glimpse of the pogues, still distracted, before following Kelce. I felt the butterflies in my stomach start again with the way that he held my hand closer to him and kept it as we sat down. The warmth from the fire hiding the blush on my cheeks. Kelce’s smile made me want to melt, and not to mention he looked so good, the way that the flickering light was dancing across his chiseled features. We fell into a light, casual conversation naturally. Texting had helped us to get to know one another on the surface level, but it was nice to look at him while talking. The night grew darker and the fire was slowly dying since no one added anything but a few beer cases to it and we continued to talk. 

“Oh Kelce man, don’t tell me this is the girl you were telling us about?” I heard a voice come from behind me. I looked up at Kelce, my eyebrows knitted together in confusion, but the redness that covered my face was proof of my embarrassment. 

“Dude! Why would you say it like that?” Kelce said, moving closer and pulling me into his side, wrapping his arm protectively around my shoulders. I was able to turn and see who was speaking. I looked up to be met with none other than the Kook royalty, Rafe Cameron and Topper Thornton. “But yes. This is Y/N” He said while a smile before looking at me. 

“You were talking about me?” I giggled, the blush on my face staying there like a stain. Kelce just nodded, he opened his mouth to speak but was stopped by Rafe. 

“You mean Poguie Trash?” Rafe said, mocking a baby voice when he called me by the nickname. I felt my hands clench into fists. “Not even good enough to be a Pogue, Y/N.” Rafe’s voice degrading. It was only making my anger continue to rise. “Not even you’re brother lets you in his group. What makes you think you’re good enough for a kook like Kelce? Poguie” Rafe taunted. 

I’d had enough. As soon as I the nickname fell from Rafe’s lips, I was up on my feet, closing the short distance that was between us. Rafe’s tall figure stood over me, but heald no fear against me. I didn’t realize what I was doing before I had slung my right fist into the left side of his face. Obviously taken aback by the blow, Rafe stutter-stepped backward. 

My grew wide, not expecting myself to really do it. Rafe brought his hand up to his face, pulling away and looking at the blood on his hand. A small crowd had gathered around us. “You fucking Pogue,” he spat at me, lunging forward. Kelce was quick to pull me into his chest and out of Rafe’s line of fire. That’s when I was able to see the three taller figures that had approached from behind me. 

John B was leading the pack, making his fist colliding with Rafe’s face. JJ and Pope stood back, holding Topper out of the fight. “You don’t get to call her that” John B managed to get out between punches.”You don’t get to say those things to her!” He said, his fist meeting the boys face over and over again. I locked eyes with JJ, seeing the same worried expression on his face. I moved towards John B, JJ moving from the other side, as we tried to get him away from the boy underneath him. 

“John B come on!” JJ yelled as he pushed him toward me. 

“He’s had enough dude!” I called, pulling him up by the shoulders, and passed him to Pope who quickly pulled him away from the beach. I looked around for Kelce, to say something. I caught his eye and walked the short distance between us. 

I stood in front of Kelce who had his hands dug in the pockets of his khakis, the air heavy between the two of us. I knew that we didn’t have much time before the pogues pulled me away. “Are you okay?” Kelce asked I watched as his eyes searched over my face and body. “Did Rafe hurt you?” He breathed out, closing his eyes and shaking his head with his last statement. 

“Not physically no,” I said, bluntly. “I guess the others were right tho.” Kelce knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “You know? A kook and Pogue, we can’t be friends Kelce” I said with an awkward laugh. “It’ll be too complicated.” 

Kelce stared at me with wide eyes. I heard the others calling my name and JJ ran up to my side. “We said come on Poguie!” I could feel the frustration radiating off of him as he slung an arm around me, pulling me away from Kelce. 

“Y/N! Wait-” Kelce started, but it was already too late. JJ and I had already started our trek back to the chateau. 

A long and uncomfortable silence filled the walk home. The waves from the beach were slowly replaced by the crunch of gravel until we got to the front of the chateau. 

“What the hell were you doing with the Kooks to begin with Y/N?” John B said. I was stunned. He never used my real name unless he was really mad. I blinked a few times trying to register his tone. 

“I’m sorry?” I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “You‘re the one who almost beat Rafe within an inch of his life! I had it covered!” I said, my voice rising with every word. 

“Me?” John B said, his voice breathy. “Me?” He repeated, raising his voice. “What was all that about with Kelce huh?” He questioned. Pope and Kie took it as their cue to give us some privacy. John B pointed at JJ. “Why did he have to get you? Huh?” He asked his voice condescending. 

I felt tears prick in my eyes. “It was nothing okay!” I said, looking between the two boys. “You were right, they’re kooks, and it would never work!” I moved through the two of them making my way into my bedroom before slamming the door behind me. I let my back slide down the door. 

I felt like I had been crying for hours when a knock came to my door. I slowly moved to get out of the way. I took a deep breath before turning the doorknob. I opened it just a little to see JJ standing outside of it with a large grin on his face. 

“Can I come in?” He asked, his voice much softer than previously that night. I just nodded and opened the door wider. As he walked in I took it as an opportunity to look out over the empty living room. JJ sat on the edge of my bed, patting the spot beside him. 

I listened, moving to sit beside him, pulling my knees to my chest and looking at him. “I brought you some water.” He extended his arm with a cold bottle of water. “Kie said that you need to rehydrate or something.” He said with a short laugh. I took it taking a few sips, the silence over us become more awkward. 

“I’m sorry about John B. I know we’re protective over you, but we just want what’s best for you. And if you think that’s Kelce, then.” JJ paused taking a deep breath. “Then we’ll lay off.” He said with a soft smile. 

I smiled back at him. “Thanks, but I kinda blew it already.” I laughed awkwardly at my own mistakes. JJ looked at me, confusion clear on his face. “I told him it wouldn’t work, that it would be ‘too complicated’” I emphasized with air quotes. 

“Well, he’s stupid if that keeps him away,” JJ said. He pulled me into a side hug before moving to the door. 

“Hey JJ” I spoke up, causing him to turn in the doorway to face me. “Really, thanks. It means a lot to know you have my back.”I smiled at him. 

“Anything for you, Pougie.” 

Masterlist

Taglist: Just @kikifromtheblock​ rn (bc she asked to be tagged for everything:))

[athingthatwantsvirginia]

we never painted by the numbers

chapter one of the peter losing wendy series

*inspired by Taylor Swift’s Folklore*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Original Character (Liz Walker)

Warnings: alcohol, partying, plot does not follow the canon

Word Count: 2.6K

Summary: At the Labor Day party in the Boneyard, Liz and JJ have trouble avoiding each other. 

September 2, 2019

Though the sand was cool beneath her feet, Liz felt her cheeks burning red. Her heart beat anxiously against her ribs. Chewing on her bottom lip, she descended the slope down to the shore, where she would find the keg. Where she would find JJ. She kept telling herself there was no reason to be nervous, that it would be the same as it always had been. But as soon as she spotted him, her stomach sank and she had to avert her eyes. His face was lit dimly beneath the half moon, and she could tell he was smiling even from across the crowd of sweaty teenagers. Swallowing down the sick nerves creeping up her throat, she meandered through the masses and finally arrived at the center of the party. The other pogues, along with Sarah Cameron, stood around the keg like politicians schmoozing voters. Ask, and the people shall receive shitty keg beer. Liz wanted to grimace at herself for thinking such bitter thoughts, but she plastered on a weak smile instead.

Kie noticed her before she even had to say anything, pulling her into a drunken side hug and squealing some joyous exclamation. Liz couldn’t quite understand her through all the slurring, but she knew the gist of the words tumbling from Kie’s mouth. It had been too long, even though they saw each other at work it just wasn’t the same, and the like. No matter how much she wanted to, Liz knew she couldn’t just disappear. She couldn’t suddenly stop showing up on the HMS Pogue for Sunday fishing trips or not make an appearance at a party. Especially not the Labor Day blowout to celebrate the beginning of senior year.

Rather, she chose to fade away. Show her face less and less until, hopefully, they forgot she ever existed. It wasn’t an airtight plan, but it was the best she could come up with. She promised Kie they would dance together later, after Liz was able to down a few drinks. A chorus of cheers followed, the rest of the group elated to see the friend who had been working an inexplicable number of shifts the past few weeks. And, for just a moment, Liz felt secure in the spot where she stood. Kie had her arm around Liz’s shoulders, babbling on to Sarah about some memory from the Kook Academy Liz wasn’t present for.

On a normal night, it would have bothered Liz. Before Sarah Cameron had shown up and John B started macking on her, Kie had been Liz’s confidant. The only other girl to relate to in the face of three clueless boys. But Liz didn’t share a childhood with Kie the way Sarah did. Liz knew she hadn’t exactly been replaced, but she was also smart enough to know it would never be the same. She would never again be the one Kie immediately thought to call when she considered cutting her hair or getting another spontaneous dolphin tattoo. It was Liz who had, in fact, replaced Sarah. And why would Kie need the replacement when the original was back in the picture?

Despite the old, familiar hurt bubbling up in her chest, though, Liz just couldn’t bring herself to care when Kie and Sarah twirled away to go dance near the portable speaker. There were bigger fish to fry. Harder pills to swallow as she took a tentative step towards the keg, and the three boys, to ask for a drink. She wasn’t lost on the way JJ had been avoiding her gaze and hadn’t said a word upon his noticing her arrival. Liz was pretty sure it wasn’t lost on Pope either, even if she and JJ were both doing their best to act as usual for the sake of their friends. At least Liz didn’t have to worry about John B noticing anything was wrong. He was oblivious, as always.

“Hey, Liz, where have you been?” John B asked with a wide smile, pouring her a red solo cup of watery beer before she could actually even ask for one.

Liz shrugged and tucked some stray hairs, flying loose in the ocean breeze, behind her ear. “Here and there. And I mean...nowhere, really.”

John B furrowed his brows and chuckled at her cryptic tone. “Okay, James Bond. Don’t tell me then.”

“Just work and stuff,” she continued, noncommittal, as she accepted the drink from his outstretched hand. “Mommy dearest hasn’t been in the best mood lately, either. Lots of fires to put out on the home front.”

“Ouch,” John B said, commisterating. “Well, are you staying on the pullout tonight? I think there’s a free spot. Pope’s staying at Kie’s, so…”

“Oh, I don’t know. It just um...depends. I’ll let you know later,” she said, looking down into her drink and taking a big gulp.

She wasn’t a drinker most nights, but she felt as though she might need a little bit more than she was used to. Still, the PBR burned warmly in her gut as it went down. She could almost hear JJ teasing her about being a lightweight. And she almost waited to actually hear him say it, but she knew he wouldn’t. She locked eyes with him for just a moment, but then a Touron girl came up for a drink, and Liz didn’t have his attention anymore.

Ready to service a new customer, John B brushed off Liz’s uncertainty and gave her a half-nod, along with some sort of affirmative grunt. Only Pope kept his inquisitive gaze on Liz. By the time he approached her carefully, she had taken a few steps back from the keg and begun to space out, watching the reverie. Some heavy rap song played, the majority of the people in attendance dancing their hearts out in the sand. But Liz stayed close to the shoreline, the water licking at the backs of her heels. She’d discarded her shoes the moment she jumped off her bike, leaving them in the small basket. Part of her worried about them getting stolen, but then she knew nobody would. They knew what her bike looked like, they knew who she was friends with. The Kooks did, at least. And it was far more likely she would steal from a Touron before a Touron ever stole from her. She was debating whether to go and sit by the bonfire, up near the dunes, when Pope came to stand beside her.

“Hey, so...what’s up with you?” he began hesitantly.

“What do you mean?” she asked, not meeting his eyes and taking another long sip. The beer was already almost gone.

Pope pursed his lips, then turned to face her fully and took on the stern tone of voice which always made Liz want to roll her eyes. “Did you and JJ have a fight or something? It seems like there’s some weird shit going on between the two of you. And you haven’t been around for weeks. Kie was worried sick last weekend when you skipped out on free crab legs.”

“I had stuff going on, Pope,” Liz replied easily.

“Can’t you just stop bullshitting me for one second?” Pope asked, eyebrows raised in frustration.

Licking her lips, Liz took a deep breath to compose herself and finally looked directly at Pope. “I had to work. My mom’s a fucking mess. I was exhausted, alright?”

“But it’s not just that,” Pope continued. He was approaching it almost as though it were a question of logic. As though he could solve everything if he only knew where the mistake in the problem was. “You and JJ are best friends, Liz. But you guys can’t even look at each other. What the hell happened?”

Nerves began to jitter right beneath Liz’s skin, making her itch. “Nothing happened, okay? Maybe I just need some time...for myself.”

Pope scoffed. Even on her worst day, the most Liz would do was hide out in the spare bedroom at the Chateau to take a breather. Never before had she willingly chose to stay at her own house instead of John B’s. Especially not since John B had finally become an emancipated minor the year before, and they no longer had to worry about Child Protective Services randomly showing up. Liz had always been so worried they would recognize her, and they would again start asking the questions they had asked just after her father died.

“Time for yourself?” Pope repeated, unconvinced.

She nodded. “Yeah. I went to the movies by myself on Sunday for the matinee. It was pretty great. They were doing an anniversary screening of Donnie Darko. Like any of you guys would’ve been into that. So there’s just one of many examples.”

For a moment, Pope had to agree. “That movie does make a mockery of time travel.”

“Exactly,” Liz exclaimed sardonically. She had watched the movie with Pope once. She remembered just how dissimilar their reviews of it had been.

“But you and I both know JJ would’ve loved that shit,” Pope said.

Jaw tightening, Liz let out a small, humorless laugh and turned back to the crowd. “No way. That movie doesn’t have a happy ending. JJ only wants a happy ending.”

Before Pope could muster up an argument (she was right, after all; JJ couldn’t stand a less-than-happy ending unless they were watching some ridiculous low-budget creature feature), Liz left to go receive a refill. Shaking his head, Pope decided to let the problem lie for the time being. He wanted to go find Kie. He fancied himself a good boyfriend, and figured she would need her hair held back sooner or later.

.   .   .

Buzzed but not drunk, Liz laughed loudly at something the Touron boy across from her had said. He was short and stocky brunette, with straight white teeth and a bland face. But he was nice enough, and he didn’t seem to care that she was a couple inches taller than him. Besides, they couldn’t tell the difference when sitting on a log next to the bonfire. She was three drinks in, and finally the nagging voice was exiting her mind. Her heart was quieting to a steady beat, and she felt warm and calm instead of shaky. Her bare knee touched the Touron boy’s leg, and she smiled at the contact, though she thought vaguely that she couldn’t remember his name.

It was a party though. It’s what the Pogues were always telling her before. She could let loose at a party, if she wanted. She could do without thinking, if she wanted. The uncertainty didn’t go entirely out the window, however, until she spotted JJ from across the fire again. He was dancing, like usual. With some tanned, blonde Touron girl. Her lips were bubblegum pink and she giggled girlishly. Liz knew she could never make herself giggle like that. Not at all. It wasn’t in her DNA. The warmth of the bonfire made her feel reckless, almost, as she saw the dimple appear on JJ’s cheek. He laughed at whatever the girl had whispered in his ear.

She saw flashes of him everywhere, even in places he wasn’t. Without as much access to Twinkie, she had been relegated to the bus as of late. There was only so far her bike could take her. The day had been hot and muggy, and she had opted to take the bus to the bank instead of biking over. She preferred not to be a sweaty, melting mess when she sat down and discussed her savings. The savings her mother didn’t seem to know about. Her nose had been buried in a worn copy of Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. She’d been sitting on the searing metal bench waiting for the bus to arrive, when she glanced up and her gaze immediately landed on a shaggy blonde head of hair. For just a moment, her heart had done a twist. It looked so much like JJ. Until whoever it was turned around on their skateboard, and Liz had found some random Touron instead of her best friend.

At the time, she shrugged it off and kept up her alternating pattern of reading and obsessing over everything that could go wrong with her savings account. Later, though, when she’d been lying in bed with only the sound of cicadas to distract her, the vivid moment had come back to the forefront of her mind. There was something so visceral about the feeling she’d had. When she thought it was him. It left her wondering if she’d always felt so much for JJ, or if it was only because of what had happened this summer. She didn’t know. For the life of her, she couldn’t remember a time when just the sound of his name or the sight of his smile didn’t have her insides erupting with the flutter of butterflies.

The lucid shock hit her again when she saw him dancing. A skip in the beating of her heart and a wave of involuntary shivers rolling over her. But instead of being confused, this time it only made her angry. She could think of no other way to stop her feelings for him. Try as she might, she couldn’t erase them. A dull, throbbing irritation settled inside her when the intense moment of realization passed. She noticed how the Touron boy still droned on next to her, unaware of the deep waters of thought in which she swam. She felt bad for not being able to remember his name. He’d just told her so quickly, before he’d launched into some diatribe about his hockey team. Something with an A. Aaron? Adam? Alex? It was no use, she decided. She only tried her best to listen, blinking harshly to clear her eyes of their pensive glaze. The Touron boy eventually saw her change in demeanor. His words became filled with awkwards gaps of silence as he lost his train of thought, and his mouth slowly turned up at the corners in a small, almost endearing, grin.

“Would you wanna make out?” he asked.

She was taken slightly aback by the question. Of all the Pogues, she was the only one who had never hooked up with a Touron at or after a party. Pope had once stood alongside her in the lonely camp, until he’d gotten hot and heavy with some girl, just a few weeks before finally admitting his true feelings for Kie. Liz was just glad the secret was finally out between the two of them.

Biting at her lips again, she let her mind swirl with thoughts, with possibilities. He was attractive, sure. Whatever his name was. And he certainly wasn’t looking for a commitment. He wasn’t always going to be there, at the end of her day and in the back of her mind, as JJ was. Again, moments with him played like a home video behind her eyes. Tossing pennies in the Williams’s wishing well on her tenth birthday and creating a pseudo-rosé to drink with the Pogues last New Year’s. Her heart beating heavy and high as she woke up from a dream about him, where he found such complete happiness without her. She could almost see it happening, the way he was dancing with the Touron girl. And Liz knew there was no way in hell she was sleeping at the Chateau. JJ was bound to take the pretty blonde home at the end of the night. And he would be just another step farther away from her. Everywhere in her world; and now, nowhere at all.

She nodded. “Yes.”

And she pulled the Touron boy in gently with one hand on his cheek before he could initiate anything himself. He tasted of hard liquor and disillusionment.

[supernaturaltfwmeme]

Between the lines. Part 4

Summary:The reader is at Stanford with Sam and a few other familiar faces. She gets introduced to Dean, an FBI agent for help with a paper. The two grow even closer when Dean learns about her daughter and her troublesome situation. Check out the other parts here.

Pairing: Dean x reader.

Warnings: Language, Domestic abuse.

Something about this whole thing didn’t sit right with Dean and he wasn’t going anywhere until he knew you were ok. He knocked on the door again louder this time.

Inside Daniel Grabbed you and shoved you towards the door.

“Get rid of him.” He spat. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you went against him so you carefully opened the door. You came face to face with a worried dean.

“Y/n/n, what the hell happened to you? Are you ok?” Dean asked trying to look around you.

“I’m fine de. I just fell.” You lied.

“If you ‘just fell’ why did you tell Charlie you got into a fight at the bar.” Shit of course Charlie would talk to Dean about it, she’s known the Winchesters her whole life.  

“I knew Charlie wouldn’t believe that I fell.” You say. Technically that wasn’t a lie.

“Neither do I y/n/n.” You step outside closing the door behind you.

“Dean you have to go.”

“I’m not leaving until I know you’re ok sweetheart.”  

“Dean I'm fine really but I need you to leave please.” you try and push him back towards his car. You were getting desperate. You knew if Dean stayed any longer Daniel would hurt him too.

“Y/n what the hell is goin’ on?”

“Look I can’t talk right now ok just please leave ok, I promise I'm fine just go before..”

“Before what?”

“Before it gets worse.”

“Y/n..”

“Dean just go home.” You snapped. But it did the trick Dean just sighed defeatedly before heading back over to his car. You watched him pull off and leave before heading back inside. The second you got inside Daniel was screaming again. You knew what was coming.

A few days had gone by since you Dean had shown up on your doorstep, he’d been none stop calling and texting you to make sure you we’re alright. Every time he did, Daniel got more and more angry at you. He was convinced you had cheated on him that night, apart from to go to classes, work and pick Amelia up, he hadn’t let you out of his sight. You’d been avoiding all of your friends; you knew that they had an idea of what was happening but they didn’t understand nobody would understand. And that’s why you couldn’t tell them.  

You were just leaving the library when you felt someone grab your wrist and pull you down the side of the building out of sight, you winced at the contact. They had barely even touched you but you already had a particularly nasty bruise there. And just about everywhere else that your clothes would cover. You looked up at the person whose hand was attached to your arm. It was Sam. And Charlie was standing just behind him. Sam noticed you wince at the contact and gently pulled your sleeve up seeing the purple skin before sharing a look with Charlie. You didn’t dare look at them.

“Y/n/n I know you probably don’t want to but please tell us what happened. We're your friends we can help.” Sam said sympathetically. You shook your head.

“You can’t help no one can.”

“Y/n we already know what happening, but you need to talk to us. It might make you feel a little better just to talk about it.” Charlie added.

“You won’t understand.” You said furiously wiping at the tear that had made its way down your face.

“Try us.” Sam said, giving you a reassuring smile. You took a shaky breath and finally made eye contact with your friends.

“Daniel he- uh- he likes to drink and when w-when he gets drunk he gets so mad and and..” You couldn’t finish the sentence. Tears now flowing freely down your face. Charlie pulled you into a tight hug for a minute until you had calmed down before letting go.

“y/n/n, why don’t you just leave him?” Sam asked.

“I can’t it’s not that simple.” you admitted.

“Why not?”

“Because he has us trapped there, he pays all the bills my job just covers the stuff I need for school and my car, he pays for everything else. And nobody is going to take us in. I don’t have any family to turn to. But he only hits me and I can deal with it.” You rambled without thinking.

“Us?” Sam asked confused. Your eyed went wide and you started to panic again. That is until you felt Charlie lightly squeeze your upper arm.

“Y/n, just tell him. It’s Sam he’s not going to judge you.” You nodded your head taking another shaky breath. Charlie was right.

“I have a daughter.”

“You woah that’s, wait she’s not Daniel’s, is she?”

“No.”

“Thank god. What’s her name? How old is she?” Sam asked a little excited.

“Amelia and she’s 4.”

“Wow. Can I meet her?” Sam sounded almost nervous. That made you smile. You were seriously beginning to question why you ever hid her from your friends.

“Of course you can, I'm sure she’d love to meet her uncle Sammy.”

“Oh my god I'm an uncle, this is oh my god I need to sit down.”  You couldn’t help but laugh at Sam as he sat down on the nearby wall.  

“Y/n, you really need to both get out of that house or get Daniel out, if not for you then for that little girl.” Charlie said

“I can’t.”

“Maybe you should talk to Dean, he can help. Hell it’s literally his job.” Sam added.

“Sam I c..”

“Can’t I know, but can you at least think about it.”

“Ok I'll think about it.” You promised.  

“Sam one more thing.” Sam looked in your direction.

“You can’t tell anyone about Amelia ok?”

“I wont y/n/n. Promise.”

Later that night you were at home getting ready for work, you were trying to find an outfit that would cover your bruises, without making you to hot. You settled on a pair of blue skinny jeans with rips at the knees, a white top with long black sleeves and an ACDC logo on it and your black high-top converse. Not too long after you were pulling into the parking lot of a local bar, known as Harvelle’s roadhouse. It was the cops local watering hole of choice and also happened to be where you worked.

“Hey there Cinderella.” You couldn’t help but laugh at Ash’s nickname for you.  

“Really ash, you’re never gonna let that one go, are you?” You said as you walked behind the bar, tying an apron around your waist.  

“Never.” Ash turned to face you.

“Jesus Cinders, those bruises still there? How hard did this girl hit you?” Ash asked referring to the lie you had told him about the fight you’d had with a girl when you went out the other night.

“Eh don’t worry about it Ash, I've had worse.” It was sad but true. You slid Ash a PBR.

“Where’s Jo? I thought she was working tonight?” Ash didn’t say anything just nodded his head to the pool table at the other end of the room where Jo was laughing at something a guy was saying and twirling her hair.  After a few minutes of Jo not getting the reaction she wanted she walked back over to the bar.

“Struck out Jo?” you teased.

“I’m not sure, maybe he’s playing hard to get.” She sulked leaning against the bar. The man Jo was talking to was playing pool with two other men and two women. The guy and one of his friends had their backs to you, but you could see the other man and the two women. The other guy looked older maybe mid 50’s and was wearing a suit. The woman with the short dark hair was wearing some sort of police uniform and looked around mid 40’s and the slightly short woman had long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and was also wearing a police uniform looked to be in her early 30’s.  

You turned your attention to a random customer waiting at the bar, not noticing the group approach the other end of the bar where Jo was to take a seat after having finished their game. You turned around to talk to Jo and noticed a familiar face.

“Cas?” You walked over to the four people sitting there, the man Jo had been flirting with was nowhere to be seen.

“y/n is that you?” you smiled at the slightly older man.

“It’s good to see you again.”  

“You too Cassy.” Cas pulled his face at the nickname.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged in.” You heard a familiar voice say from behind Cas. The man Jo had been flirting with.

“Dean.” You smiled. “What are you doing here?”  

“It’s a bar sweetheart.” You laughed at that.

“Wait you two know each other?” Jo asked.

“Yeah this is Sam’s big brother.”

“Oh so this is the guy you were out with when you were ignoring my texts.” Jo teased making you blush.

“Ooo had cinders got a crush.” Ash joined in.

“Oh shut it ‘Dr badass’. “

“Cinders ay?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“As in Cinderella.” You explained.

“Why does he call you Cinderella?”  

“Because it doesn’t matter if she’s at work or you’ve convinced her to come out, she always disappears before midnight.” Jo explained laughing. Making you roll your eyes.

“That’s funny I couldn’t get rid of you until midday.” Dean added taking a swig of his beer.  

“Oh you had to make that sound so much worse than it was didn’t you.” You laughed. Jo, Cas and Ash looking between you both and the obvious flirting going on.

“Are you not gonna introduce us ya idgit.” The older man Said to Dean.

“Sorry, y/n/n this is bobby, my boss. And this is Jody and Donna, they both work at the station where my mom does, and Jody is and old friend of Bobby’s too. Guys this is Y/n y/l/n. She goes to school with Sammy.” Dean explained. You all greeted each other and carried on the conversation. You and Dean flirted back and forth for the rest of your shift.  

Over the next couple of weeks you and Dean texted back and forth getting closer every day. You hid it front Daniel as best as you could, deleting messages and stuff. He didn’t like you being friends with Charlie, never mind Sam and now Dean. Today was no different, Dean had just finished his morning shift, and you were stuck at school.

I’ve got to go to my stupid creative writing class and it sucks it’s so boring. You texted Dean.

Oh come on, it can’t be that bad. Dean texted back

I mean Sam, Charlie and Jess are in the class with me, but it still sucks.

If only you had someone to save you from it.  

Yeah if only. You replied but Dean never texted you back.  

After about 20 minutes of class someone knocked on the door.

“Come in.” your teacher, Professor Crowley, said. In walked Dean in his suit and flashed his badge.  

“Mr Crowley is it? I’m Agent Winchester i need a word with one of your students and I wouldn’t expect her back a er.” Dean make a dramatic show of flipping through a notebook and stopping on a page before continuing.  

“Miss y/n y/l/n?”

“Yes of course, you heard the agent y/n.” Crowley ushered you out. Sam, Jess and Charlie could barely hold back their laughter.

When you got outside the class room you turned to Dean.

“De what the hell is going on?”

“I’m saving you from the boring class sweetheart, now let’s go before Sammy, Charlie and Jess blow my cover.” Dean grabs your hand and starts dragging you down the hallway. You felt a jolt of electricity run through you at the contact but didn’t let go.  Dean didn’t drop you hand until you made it to the impala and both climbed inside.

Before Dean could even start the car his phone buzzed in his pocket. It was a text from Sam.

Could of got us all out of here De.

When you look like her Sammy maybe I will

Bitch

Jerk. Dean Laughed putting his phone down and starting the car

“Where are we going?” You asked.

“You’ll just have to wait and see sweetheart.” Dean laughed.

“Really De, you kidnap me from class and can’t even tell me where your taking me.”

“Pretty much.”

“Fine.” You pouted, “but I have to be back here for 3.” you told him.

“Why’s that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know Winchester.” Dean drove for a little while, drumming on the steering wheel and dancing in his seat making you laugh, before pulling up to an empty field on the edge of town turning his music up and climbing out of the car leaving his door open and instructing you to do the same. He went to his trunk and pulled out his blanket and a couple of beers. He put down the blanket laying down of top of it and patting the space next to him. He passed you a beet and just stared up at the sky.  

“Dean what are we doing?”

“Cloud gazing.” He said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Why?”  

“Because you won’t let me take you out late enough to stargaze.” He shrugged. You spent the next few hours pointing out random clouds and coming up with ridiculous things they were and just talking it was nice.

You and Dean had been getting along so well recently, you really felt like there could be something there. Maybe someone would actually want you and could help you get away from Daniel. The only problem was he didn’t know about Amelia yet. But you were going to change that. You were going to tell him. Today

On the drive back to Stanford, you turned to Dean.

“Hey de.”

“Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I have something to...” You were interrupted by the sound of Deans phone ringing. He gave you an apologetic smile.

“Sorry do you mind if I?”

“No go ahead.”

“Winchester.” Dean said answering the phone, his face immediately dropped. You could only hear Deans side of the conversation.

“Lisa I don’t know how many times I have to tell you we’re not getting back together. Ever.” Dean paused for a minute letting the person on the other end, Lisa, talk.

“You know why.” He paused again.

“Because I refuse to raise a child that’s not mine.”  

Tags: @waywardaardvark79 @vicmc624 @frackinawesomeninja @carryon-doctor-lock @supernatural508​

[wellhellsbelles]

How about a Riley finally realizing she's in love with Farkle?

of course! fun fact about this one (besides the fact that it ended up being really long lol): this is actually from a riarkle fic i started awhile ago but never really finished! i liked this part so much and i knew i wasn’t going to get anywhere with the fic, so after a little bit of refurbishing and a bunch more added on (the after prom part is all new stuff for it!!), i finished it! 

 hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it!! :)

ao3 link here or read below!

//

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. He stood in front of her, right in the space between her bed and her bay window, but even that felt miles away.

“I don’t either,” Riley told him, “But I’m willing to try. Are you?”

~

“Oh my god, you guys better not tell my dad about this or I’m dead!” Riley shouted over the pounding music (it was “Blinding Lights” by the Weeknd which meant she was ready to JAM) as they entered the loft belonging to Missy Bradford.

Missy’s loft was bigger than the apartment her family lived in and fancier; the windows were huge panes of glass, the balcony containing a lit swimming pool. The flooring was made of ritzy mahogany wood and the counters posh marble that stretched around the kitchen and, Riley would wager, the bathroom, as well. She had several rotating disco balls set up around that illuminated the space with a spectrum of colors as most of her graduating class pressed up against each other, gyrating along to the music.

“Because our plan was to let Cory Matthews, our history teacher, know that we’re all getting blasted at eighteen!” Maya quipped, pulling them through the crowd towards the kitchen. Riley could already feel the heat pooling off all the bodies in the room and she had a hunch that she would probably need several runs through the dry cleaners in order to get the sweat out of her jewel-laden lavender chiffon dress.

It took more of Maya elbowing herself a path through a sea of drunk teenagers to arrive at the kitchen, but they made it eventually, their reward the smiling faces of their friends, Lucas, Zay, Smackle, and Farkle.

“What took you two so long?” Zay asked as he sipped at whatever was in the red solo cup in his hand. Maya reached into the bag off her shoulder, pulling out a bottle of her mother’s coconut rum. Riley had warned her that she was absolutely, totally going to get her ass busted for raiding her mom’s liquor cabinet, but Maya only shrugged her shoulders, reminding her that they were going to graduate in two weeks anyway and that any punishment was worth the night of their lives.

“You’re welcome, by the way. There was no way we were getting drunk off of PBR. Also, I don’t want my life to be made a living hell by Missy Bradford the last two weeks of school for stealing her parent’s alcohol. I’d rather get in trouble by my own mother, thank you very much. Alright, bottoms up!” she said, raising the bottle and taking a big swig from it. Farkle’s eyebrows furrowed and he reached over to take the bottle from Maya.

“Maya, geez!” he told her, but then finished with, “Save some for the rest of us, yeah?” Maya grinned as Farkle stole a sizeable gulp of alcohol himself, downing it like a champ.

“Wow! Who are you and what did you do with Farkle Minkus?!” Farkle passed off the bottle to Smackle, wiping his mouth of with the back of his sleeve.

“It’s prom night! I’m letting myself get loose!”

“I’ll say!” Riley exclaimed. She gave him a once-over—he was starting to wobble slightly, obviously affected by the beer he was drinking previously. His hair was mussed up, hanging above his eyebrows instead of gelled in a perfect quaff like it was earlier, and his bow tie was undone, resting around his neck.

“Smackle, rum, please,” Riley demanded with the room suddenly feeling hotter, reaching out for the bottle. Smackle obliged, relinquishing the bottle as Riley brought it to her lips quickly. She was surprised by the rush of rum pooling in her mouth, wincing from the burning sensation as she swallowed it to the best of her ability, coughing once it was down.

“Smooth, Riles,” Maya joked, but she knew it was only light teasing. Riley gave Zay the bottle instead, trading him for his red solo cup of PBR.

“We’re all gonna drink until that bottle is finished, got it? Then I got another bottle of cheap whisky we can get down,” Maya explained as they passed the bottle around to one another.

Riley could tell all her friends were reluctant to do so, but she also knew that it was prom night, their graduation was only less than a month away, and that they had all agreed to let loose at Missy Bradford’s after prom party weeks ago. They all figured it was the last party they were ever going to be at together since they were all going to different colleges and they damn well were celebrating like it.

“C’mon, guys, let’s get a picture together before we all get trashed. I wanna at least get something out of this party that I’ll remember,” Farkle said, pulling his iPhone out of his pocket and gesturing for them to crowd around him.

Riley tucked into his side and Maya next to her, while Smackle, Lucas, and Zay all gathered around his opposite side. They all squished together, smiling brightly until the flash went off. Farkle checked the picture quality before deciding it was adequate and pocketing his phone once again.

“You better make us all copies of that!” Zay yelled at him, the music growing louder with the next song.

“Duh,” Farkle rolled his eyes, stealing back the bottle of coconut rum and draining the remainder of alcohol into his mouth. “Next bottle, Maya!” he proclaimed, setting the empty bottle onto the counter. Maya followed orders, extracting the whiskey bottle from her bag and uncapping it, raising it in the air to toast.

“To getting fucking wasted and having the best night of our teenage lives!” she shrieked, leaning back with the container to get a large enough sip. She hacked after downing a mouthful, handing it over for someone else to deal with.

“Shitty whiskey?” Riley asked, smug. Maya’s eyes bugged out.

“Hunter Rye is so cheap but the worst,” she wheezed. “I have no idea why my mother drinks it.”

“As long as it gets us drunk quickly, I don’t give a damn,” Zay murmured, choking after swallowing.

“Amen to that!” Lucas agreed, and as Riley felt her vision start blurring, she still held to the fact that their night was going to be the best ever.

 //

 Riley figured that, if this were her father’s history class and if this were the point where they learned a “big lesson”, the lesson would be “don’t get wasted after high school prom” because oh boy. That alcohol was kicking her ass.

The world around her was extremely wonky, her vision going in and out as she watched her classmates around her having the time of their lives. She had an urge to both sit down and stand up as the world quaked beneath her feet, and her thoughts were both infinite and non-existent all at once.

Being drunk was weird.

“Okay, is it just me or do you feel like you could black out any moment?” Farkle slurred next to her, his hands reaching up to ruffle the locks of his hair that were only getting messier by the second.

“Totally,” Riley replied, nodding her head. She felt herself begin to tilt, eventually resting upon Farkle completely without her even meaning to.

“How much do you think we’re going to regret this in the morning?” Riley shrugged.

“In terms of hangovers, I’d wager a lot. In terms of how much trouble our parents are going to get us in, I’d wager there’s no end to the depth of that scale.” Farkle snorted, burying his nose into her hair.

“Well, you wanna dance so we can get a bit more fun in before the world comes crashing down around us?” he asked, extending out a hand towards her. Riley smiled, taking him up on his offer, following him through the crowd until they found a spot toward the edge of all the dancing. Right as they were about to start jumping around, the song changed to a soft, slow cover of “Iris” and everyone started closing in with their dates, the pace around them slowing with the song.

“I guess we gotta slow dance now,” she commented, looking up at Farkle. He seemed to come to the same conclusion, the goofy smile he had from being drunk fading, concentration suddenly clear on his face as his hands went to rest on her waist. Riley hooked her arms around his neck, closing the amount of space between them as they began to sway back and forth with the music.

Neither of them spoke as the song flourished on, but their eyes kept meeting despite difficulties in keeping focus. Riley could feel her heart stutter in her chest and her breath catch as his fingers tightened and settled on her hips, and she couldn’t help but wonder what exactly was happening.

This was Farkle, her Farkle, and he was making her feel this way? Was it the alcohol causing her to feel dizzy, or was it his closeness, the way his eyelashes fluttered with each blink as he stared directly into her soul, tempting her with those irises of his that were gray as a storm, tossing her about in his tumultuous sea?

“Farkle, I really think you should spin me right now,” Riley told him abruptly, breaking them of their trance. A small smirk played at his lips as he obliged, picking her up easily and twirling the both of them. They broke into a peal of laughter once he began to gradually stop, Riley still high in the air as he held her up.

Their eyes met once again as Farkle’s feet halted in place, and as Riley slid back down to the ground she paused at his shoulders, locking herself into place as she leaned forward, brushing her nose up against Farkle’s. His arms reached around to keep her in place, his mouth hanging open as she ducked down to softly, ever so gently ghost her lips against his. He gasped at the sensation before rushing to press his own lips to hers once again, much more fervently than last time, encapsulating her wholly.

It was fire, kissing Farkle was, like she was frostbitten and he was her panacea, shooting warmth back into her veins with a pulchritudinous rush. Her fingertips sparked with electricity as she grasped at his neck, trying desperately and surely to cling to him and the moment they were existing in. It was only Farkle and Riley, Riley and Farkle, and she didn’t want this reverie the two of them had carefully crafted together to end.

 //

 Riley woke up the next day with a headache the size of Texas and the intense need to find a bathroom STAT. The light filtering through her window was overwhelming, and Riley stumbled out of the bed to go close the curtains swiftly.

God, she should not have drank that much. What was she thinking?!

“Someone shut those curtains or I’m gonna vomit all over this bed,” Maya groaned into Riley’s pillow.

“Agreed,” Smackle concurred from her perch on Riley’s fluffy, pink saucer chair, pulling the blanket she had tighter around her. Riley pulled them shut and then flopped back down on her bed, immediately regretting the action when it caused her stomach to turn tumultuously.

She tried to return to sleep when she felt less like she was going to toss her cookies, but as soon as her eyes fluttered closed, an image burned itself into the back of her mind, one of the only things she could truly remember from the previous night. Riley couldn’t remember how she got home, when it was exactly that they stopped drinking, what she even talked about last night—but she could remember one sweltering, staggering detail:

 She kissed Farkle.

 Or was it Farkle kissed her? Whatever, it didn’t matter. What did matter was she wasn’t aware she had any feelings for Farkle whatsoever, so kissing him was about as mind-blowing as finding out there was water on Mars.

Did she like Farkle? Because she honestly had no freaking clue.

Riley checked her phone to see if he had sent something—she’d never known Farkle to be quiet about something that mattered to him. Then again, she’d never had to deal with kissing Farkle for real (that chin kiss does not count in her book), the territory completely unexplored and frankly to frightening to even consider broaching at the moment.

So when she saw no text or anything, she tried to pretend to not be disappointed, but she was. All Riley wanted to know was what Farkle thought; they were both very drunk, of course, but Riley doesn’t believe in accidents. They kissed, and if Riley remembered correctly, they did it for a long while that night.

Ugh, why couldn’t she have a normal life?!

Riley was almost tempted to get a second opinion from Maya, but she wasn’t certain it’d be of good taste with Smackle sitting there, too. Smackle was Farkle’s ex, but they had parted on good terms and Smackle had since moved on with Zay, so maybe . . .

“Farkle and I kissed last night,” Riley announced with no preamble, flipping onto her back and staring at the ceiling with a long sigh.

“Freaking finally,” Smackle said. Riley glanced her way.

“What do you mean ‘finally’? You act like this was a long time coming!”

“Riles, I’m gonna level with you—it was a long time coming. I mean, with Farkle it was always obvious—no offense, Smackle,” Maya told her.

“None taken,” Smackle mumbled, burying her way further into the blanket she had wrapped around herself.

“But you were more subtle about it, Riley,” Maya continued.

“So was no one going to tell me I was in love with Farkle?! Because I’m literally finding this out right now!” Riley exclaimed, pulling a pillow over her face to shield herself from the embarrassment.

“Riles,” Maya began, extricating the pillow from Riley’s grasp, “I can’t tell you how to feel about him. Ask yourself—how do you feel when you’re around me, and then how do you feel when you’re around Farkle?”

Well, for starters, whenever Riley was near Maya, she felt like she was comfortable. She felt a sense of affection that came from years of friendship, something that glowed in the foreground of her mind as a constant. Being around Maya made Riley happy and at a sort of peace, the way Riley felt always when she was surrounded by the people she loved.

That same sort of feeling always applied to Farkle, but now? Sure, Riley still felt that sense of affection rise from being around him, but now that she had kissed him, that affection became surrounded by tendrils of uncertainty. She felt both safe around him and like she wanted to jump out of her skin, like the neurons in her brain were firing with an intense surge of electricity. There was a pull towards him now like he was a magnet, like all the atoms in her body wanted to simply exist alongside his.

 . . .

 Oh crap.

 Riley was in love with Farkle. How had she not noticed this shift in herself? Looking back, it made sense that she felt that way because of how her heart would respond in kind to his presence, how being around him not only made her feel happy, but she felt safe.

 “I’m in love with Farkle Minkus,” Riley declared, eyes wide as she stared at the ceiling. Then she sat up abruptly, locking eyes with Maya. “What do I do?!”

“Wait until tomorrow and then tell him. You kissed, so I’d wager he was into it. Besides, I’d be willing to bet money on his feelings for you; the odds are looking very favorable.”

“Why tomorrow? Why not today?” Riley asked, frowning. Maya sent her Riley look that she couldn’t decipher.

“Because,” she said simply, “We are hungover as fuck, and I want to be able to bask in the glory of years of hard work coming to fruition.”

Riley chuckled, rolling her eyes.

“Nice, Peaches.”

 //

 The problem about waiting until the next day was that prom did not mark the official end of senior year, and they all had to return to school on Monday as if they didn’t spend their whole weekend partying and drinking (and subsequently recovering.) Then a problem to add to that problem was that Monday was a homeroom day, so she’d end her school day with her classmates that shared a last name starting with ‘M’.

Which meant that she would, inevitably, be seeing Farkle Minkus at school.

The same Farkle Minkus that she made out with drunkenly at a prom afterparty, the same one who had been her best friend since she was six years-old and despite having a (priorly) unrequited crush on her, made no move to change anything between the two of them.

Until now.

Riley was also aware of the fact that he was currently ignoring her. She couldn’t be too sure, of course—Farkle had the inexplicable habit of self-isolating whenever he wasn’t feeling up to human contact, so radio silence wasn’t out of the ordinary for him. She just couldn’t help but be suspicious of the fact that his current bout of radio silence was following a life-altering event that had occurred between the two of them.

“You’re worrying about this too much,” Maya had told her when she voiced her concerns aloud at lunch, “It’s Farkle. Whatever it is that’s going on between the two of you, you’ll figure it out. I’m just surprised he hasn’t said anything yet. I was sure he’d be unable to contain himself after kissing you.”

Riley wished that was how he felt. But he’s been absolutely silent and it’s killing her; she just wanted to know where she and Farkle stood, what kind of change this meant.

If he’d allow her inside his genius mind for one second, to let her be there in an entirely new way.

Unfortunately, she knew Farkle, and if something was real, he tended to . . . run.

Which is why it was unsurprising to her when he doesn’t show up for homeroom—that doesn’t stop the disappointment from seeping in further, however.

Maybe . . . maybe this was his way of letting her down gently? It wasn’t most gentle of ways, granted, but his sudden disappearance from her life didn’t mean nothing. It meant avoidance, plain and clear, and it felt an awful lot like rejection.

Whatever. She could handle it.

She couldn’t handle Farkle not speaking to her, though, so during those last thirty minutes of her school day, she spent her time typing out a few texts to Farkle.

  There. Now all she had to do was wait and see if he’d talk to her.

 //

 Riley had spent the last three hours trying and failing at doing her homework. The sun had already set over the city, the world outside her window illuminated only by streetlights. She tossed her AP Chem textbook to the side with a sigh, staring at her ceiling as she laid on her back.

What a mess her life had become.

“Riley?”

A voice so familiar it hurt cut the silence of her room, and she sat up abruptly to face it.

“Farkle?”

Sure enough, the boy that had been ignoring her and yet infiltrating her mind and dreams was standing there, uncertainty clear on his face. Riley couldn’t help but be angered by his presence, but her heart had other opinions on the matter. Here he was, the boy she tried oh so hard not to love yet failed so miserably.

How could she hate him in this very moment, yet still love him all the same?

“So, you’re talking to me now?” she countered, and Farkle winced.

Good.

“I don’t know how to do this,” he admitted, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pants. He stood in front of her, right in the space between her bed and her bay window, but even that felt miles away.

“I don’t either,” Riley told him, “But I’m willing to try. Are you?”

He nodded.

“I am. I just . . .” He hesitated, the warring thoughts in his mind making themselves apparent through the turmoil written in his expression. “I don’t want to hurt you. You’re Riley, my best friend in the whole wide world. I can’t lose you, I’m so afraid of losing you.”

She watched him for a moment before slowly rising from her bed, her feet hitting the floor as she inched forward to meet him. His gaze never wavered despite the anxiety clawing its way through his bones, and she stopped with only mere inches between the two of them.

“I’m always afraid of losing you,” she said quietly. “I’ve been afraid of losing you since the day I met you, but I want to risk it with you. You mean the world to me, Farkle.”

Farkle’s brow furrowed as his gaze met hers, his eyes so blue they threatened to drown her. His Adam’s apple bobbed hard in his throat, but he did not waver.

“Riley—”

“Farkle, I’m in love with you,” she cut him off, finding the confidence she’d been unable to muster all weekend long. “I’m in love with you, and I know we were drunk at that party, but I don’t regret it. All I regret is that I didn’t realize I was in love with you sooner.”

His eyes widened at her admission, mouth dropping open as the words reeled through his mind. But then he blinked, and as if he’d snapped out of his own trance, he pulled Riley towards him in one swift motion, his lips crashing against hers.

And oh, oh—this was what it was like to have a kiss to end all kisses. She felt the heat rise inside her like she could combust at any second, her mind spinning as Farkle pressed against her. Her hand rose to grip at his denim jacket for traction, eyes fluttering closed as she relished in his proximity and his kisses.

It was like a billion fireworks lighting off in her brain, kissing Farkle was. She never wanted it to end, but she had to breathe eventually, so she broke the kiss off, her nose knocking against his.

“I’ve always been in love with you, Riley,” he told her, panting shallowly, “I love you in so many ways, each one so vastly different. This one is new, but I want to experience it with you, if you’ll let me.”

A smile spread slowly over Riley’s face as she leaned back to gaze at him.

“Are you asking me out, Farkle Minkus?”

He grinned back at her.

“Absolutely, Riley Matthews.”

Farkle kissed her again, this time gentler and not quite as passionate yet still bone-rattling all the same.

“I love you, if that’s not clear by now,” he whispered in her ear.

“I love you, too, Farkle Minkus,” Riley whispered back, “Always and forever.”