#I CAN MAKE THEM BLUSH LIKE MASSACHUSETTS IN THE FALL

[here-a-lee-there-a-lee]

can you imagine thomas jefferson, john adams, and benjamin franklin in 1776 but in the same timeline-ish as ben franklin in paris

theyre all arm-in-arm singing “i love the ladies” in france bc they were all diplomats/ambassadors at some point 😭 😭   and they met up at least once or twice im pretty sure

[virgo-mess]

Good Cop, Bad Cop

Chapter 1: Good Cop

TW: None for this chapter

Reader’s Pov

            You hum softly to yourself inhaling the salty scent of the New England coastline as you walk down Manomet beach with your shoes in your hands. You had missed taking your morning walks along the beach since moving to New York for school twelve years ago. You had always intended on moving back to your hometown of Plymouth, Massachusetts after you graduated, but life seemed to have other plans for you. You had landed a well-paying job as an investment broker on Wall Street after college and had managed to work your way up to Senior Vice President at your company. The success of your position allowed you to live very comfortably in New York with extra perks like big end of the year bonuses and paid time off but often left the personal aspects of your life neglected.

You hadn’t been home in two years, which was also due in part to a really messy breakup. You started to work extra hours after that. You had thought keeping yourself busy would help you get over it. It had worked for a little bit, but you ultimately ended up burning yourself out. You also may have had a very small mental breakdown in the middle office last week. Your boss all but forced you to use the paid time off you’d accumulated to clear your head and cope the healthy way. Heading back home for four weeks seemed like the best way to decompress and catch up with old friends. Everything just happened to line up perfectly with your best friend Daisy’s wedding, too; she had asked you to be one of her maids of honor months ago. The wedding was quickly approaching. People were already driving and flying in for the Bachelorette and Bachelor parties. Hosting them close together seemed like the best option.

You’re abruptly pulled out of your inner thoughts and daydreams when you bump into something hard. You let out a yelp as the force of the impact has you flying backwards. Before you know it, you’re staring up at the sky. The back of your head is throbbing a bit, and you can feel the sting of freshly scraped skin on your elbows. You let out a pained groan as you move yourself to sit up, wondering what you even walked into. Your unspoken question is answered when you feel large hands grip your upper arms.

“Easy now, sorry about that butterfly” comes a deep voice in a soothing tone, you couldn’t remember the last time anyone used that nickname for you but there was only ever one person that really called you that. You take a moment to focus your attention on the figure in front of you and recognize their icy blue eyes instantly. You take a moment to look him over since you hadn’t seen him in nearly twelve years. His hair is now grey instead of black, but he’s still got that dark, alluring, brooding prettiness to his face. This doesn’t surprise you because Cashton Micheal “Cash” Ewing had always been gorgeous, all the girls at school drooled over him, and you were no different. You had moved into the house next to his when you were seven, and it was only natural that you guys became friends.

“Cash” you said softly feeling a sudden blush spread across your cheeks as you register that he had been what you walked into. You were able to make out the ripple of his muscles through his white t-shirt he is a cop after all. He gave you a quick dazzling smile but there was something dark swirling in his eyes as he stared back at you intensely.

“You remember me that’s good. You were so quiet; I was beginning to think you hit your head too hard. Are you okay?” he asked sincerely as he looked you over rubbing his thumbs in small circles. You don’t miss the way his eyes linger on your breasts and then the tops of your thighs. You quickly move to pull the hem of your dress down, not noticing how much it had ridden up during your fall.

“I’m fine, I feel great” you blurt out, forcing a smile on your face you were sure you were as red as a tomato by now. You look at him briefly before attempting to scramble to your feet on your own, but Cash doesn’t let you. He throws you a reassuring smile before wrapping an arm around your waist. He helps you up slowly and makes sure you’re stable before letting go.

“I’m glad you feel great, y/n. You look great too” he said in a low, almost seductive tone that leaves you feeling hot all over. You see a slight smirk tug on his lips as he raises his brows a bit at you. You let out a nervous chuckle.

“You are also looking great, sir.” you said very awkwardly. “Are you going to the wedding?” You ask quickly, trying to change the subject, so he’ll focus on anything but you. There’s an amused sort of glint in his eyes now, but ultimately, he takes the bait.

“Yes, I’m going to be a groomsman, are you?” he asked, you nodded letting an excited sort of smile cross your face.

“Yeah, I’m a maid of honor” you said in a boastful tone. Almost like it was the biggest achievement you’d ever made. Quite sadly, it was the highlight of the last two years of her life. Cash smiled softly at you, but that dark sort of emotion was swirling in his eyes again. You're not sure what it is, Cash had always been so nice to you. But something about him feels different.

“Of course, you are that was a dumb question. I forgot how close you and Daisy are” he admitted. You nod your head with a small smile.

“Yeah, you’ve been away for a long time. Wanna tell me what you’ve been up to while we grab coffee?” you asked, finally slipping your white tennis shoes back on. Cash gave you a half smile as he nodded his head.

“Sure, but there’s not that much to tell” he said honestly, moving to walk in step with you as you make your way off the beach to your car.

Cash’s Pov

            Cash can’t help the way he bites down on his lip as he watches you walk back up to the coffee counter, appreciating the way the thin material of your tiny dress clings to your ass. You, the pretty girl next door, his pretty little butterfly had occupied so many of his thoughts and dreams back then. His first crush; if Cash had it his way, you would’ve been his first everything. It surprised him how quickly the thoughts and desires he had for you had crept back in on him. Time wasn’t on his side back then. By the time he had worked up the courage to do something about it, you were running off to New York. He thought about applying to the NYPD after he finished up at the academy, thought he’d run it by you when he saw you that Christmas, the last Christmas he came home for. When he got back, you, of course, were with some dick head you’d met at school. It was then that Cash impulsively decided to take a job in Cleveland and forget about you. It worked somewhat, but thinking about it now, he only dated women who reminded him of you in some way. Cash already knew what he was going to do with you; he figured it all out while you were gazing up at him with those beautiful innocent eyes of yours. The way you checked him out only spurred him on. It gave him a bit of hope that you weren’t going to be entirely resistant.

            His suspension had made him somewhat of a loose cannon, and his days of patiently waiting for what he wanted were long gone. Cash had it all planned out already. For now, he would charm you, play the good cop, soften you up just a bit, and then later he would take you just the way he always wanted to. When it was over, he’d simply turn the charm right back on and quite possibly do it all over again. Cash didn’t care how he got you as long as he did. He had decided he would have you the minute you let him scoop you off the ground.

            “Here’s your coffee” you said softly before setting it in front of him. Cash threw you his best smile watching a deep blush spread across your cheeks.

            “Thank you butterfly.”

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

[sleepdeprivedsimp234]

Mass and Loui both dealing with survivor's guilt. Mass doesn't really openly talk about his often, but he knows it's there.

Just. Them being there for each other when they can relate to each other.

Massachusetts walked into the kitchen and saw Louisiana sitting at the kitchen island. He felt something…. strange about Loui. He felt a bit off. Louisiana seemed to have a very…. Distant. Look in his eyes. Like he was there but not mentally. His eyes were glazed over with unshed tears, he looked incredibly tense and his breathing was a bit shaky and Mass could tell that he was trying to not cry. The older state walked over to Loui and ran a gentle hand through the Pelican State’s hair, and felt the tension in the younger’s shoulders disappear almost instantly.

"Hey kiddo?" Mass asked as gently as he could.

A few seconds later he heard a near silent "Yea sha….?" Thank god for the excellent hearing that came with being a state.

"Are ya…. Um- are ya alright…?" He got no answer, but he saw a single tear fall from Louisiana’s green eye. He pulled Louisiana into a tight hug and held his head to his chest so that hopefully his heartbeat would calm the slightly taller state. Mass could feel how much Loui was shaking and he noticed that Loui was still staring at something out the corner of his eye. He looked up and focused his eyes on where Loui seemed to be looking and he jumped a little bit when he saw it too.

There were multiple spirits dressed is 18th century French clothing. Some had bullet wounds, others stab wounds, many with burn wounds, and there were even a few missing their heads. Some were civilians, and others were soldiers. If Mass was guessing correctly, they were probably people/soldiers that died during the French Revolution. He snapped back into reality when he felt Loui’s breathing quicken even more. He hugged the younger closer and ran a gentle hand through the other’s curls.

"Why…." Loui whispered.

"Why what bud?"

"Why did they have to die sha…. Why couldn’t it just have been me instead….? Or at least why couldn’t I have died as well..?" Louisiana said, letting out a near silent sob.

Mass didn’t really know how to answer the Pelican State’s questions, so he settled for just continuing to hug the younger state and running his hand through his hair to calm him down whilst he cried. Mass turned his head slightly when he heard a teleportation ding. He eyes widened slightly in mild concern when he saw that it was Florida holding a bottle of hair spray and a blow torch.

"Hey Loui look what I ha-" Florida started to shout, pausing when he saw Mass holding Loui close and heard the younger’s quiet cries. "Holy sh*t is he okay?? Who did it?? Who do I need to maim?? Who am I gonna turn into a big bag of some good ol’ gator food??"

"Relax Swamp-For-Brains. Nobody did anything to im’. At least nobody that you can do anything to." Mass said. He proceeded to tell Florida what had happened.

"Oh…." Florida sighed. This was far from the first time that something like this had happened, so he knew exactly how to help poor Loui. "Welp sounds like somebody needs some love and cuddles and kisses from Florida-man~" he said, smirking and snorting at the blush that quickly spread across Loui’s face. He walked over to the two smaller and gently took a very flustered Loui from the Bay State’s arms and hugged him close.

"Thanks for takin’ care of him while I was gone Masshole~" Florida said, planting a few kisses on Loui’s neck/ears, making the state in his arms squeak and blush even more.

"Yea yea whateva’ it ain’t a big deal." Mass said quickly. He truly understood how Loui felt, seeing as he often dealt with survivor’s guilt. Though he had been getting better, he still often feels bad that he survived whilst all of those other people died. But a lot of reassurance and plenty of therapy helped him get better and he is now somewhat stable ("somewhat". He and CT are the only ones out of the NE brothers that went to therapy. NJ just thought that it was stupid, and NY had gone through multiple therapists but they all quit cuz THEY needed therapy after just one session with him 😭)…..

Uhhhh @simpyfrog u might enjoy this i think 👉👈

[toastydoll]

Since rainbow high is getting extremely worrisome w the new line I’ve coped by making my own wave 6 (drumroll please):

Scarlet, Pumpkin, Mustard, Moss, Cornflower, Royal Purple!

Tbh I was just listing off colors I wished we had gotten in a gc and then realized a) they made a rainbow and b) they were all autumnal themed so I made an inadvertent autumnal wave! All with two outfits bc I’m allowed to dream. I want to make them eventually too bc hello my New Year’s resolution is to make more customs than last year.

Scarlett Connell (scarlet red/orange): a multimedia artist with a passion for eco-friendly graffiti, Scarlett Connell hails from the Pacific Northwest. Growing up on the Oregon coast, Scarlett fell in love with thrifting materials from old logging camps and cargo railroads. Her main outfit is a scarlet beanie, a scarlet plaid scarf, a white tank top, a pair of patchwork scarlet overalls, and graffitied scarlet doc martens. Her second outfit is a scarlet oversized flannel, faded rainbow dream t shirt, torn/cuffed scarlet jeans, and short scarlet rain boots. She keeps her makeup subtle save for a bold detail (scarlet tinged lip, blush, natural brows, graphic scarlet eyeliner) and her scarlet hair straight and chin length. Y’all…she’s the red/orange butch doll we’ve all been waiting for.

Paloma Gordon (pumpkin orange): a sweet-as-can-be baking and pastry major from Salem, Massachusetts. Growing up in such an autumnal region made Paloma fall in love with both the flavors and fashions of the season. Her primary outfit is a pair of cropped ankle pumpkin pants, pumpkin crocs, a white chef coat w pumpkin buttons, and a pumpkin orange neckerchief. Her second outfit is a pair of pumpkin plaid woolen pants, a white cable knit sweater w pumpkin detailing, and pumpkin suede booties. Her makeup is soft and warm yet very, very precise: much like her approach in the kitchen, and she keeps her hair in long curly pumpkin orange ringlets, tied back in a high ponytail. I always wished rh would do a baking major since culinary arts are some of the most impressive art forms in the world (we almost got there w poppy).

Amelie “Frenchie” du Mous (mustard yellow): always on point, Frenchie hones all of her high fashion skills from growing up in Paris into a neatly tailored fashion focus. Her primary outfit is a plaid mustard pinafore over a lace trimmed white blouse with bell sleeves, mustard yellow knee high socks, brown heeled oxfords with mustard laces, and a mustard beret trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a pair of knee length mustard plaid shorts w matching suspenders, platform mustard leather loafers, mustard mid calf socks, and a white puffed short sleeved blouse with a mustard plaid bow tie. Her hair is straight and long in two tails. We never got a dark academia girl so here she is to fall in love w scarlet

Ivy Pines (moss green): emerging from the woods for the first time in her life, Ivy is ready to bring her foraging gift to Rainbow High! Her art has always been from the forest around her and her family in Northern California, whether she’s crafting her own dyes or whittling intricate jewelry. Her first outfit is an ombré dip-dyed lace maxi dress (white into moss green) with thin straps, an oversized moss green cardigan, knit to texturally simulate moss (look up moss stitch w this specific rough spin yarn istg it looks just like moss), moss sandals, moss socks, and wooden jewelry with moss jewel accents. Her second outfit is moss green crochet pants, moss flats, and a white peasant top w moss embroidery. Her makeup is natural with mossy green eyeshadow, and her hair is loose beachy waves. She’d come w alt heeled feet but both her shoes would be flat :0. She’s the mori girl we deserved but never actually got.

Corinne St. Germaine (cornflower blue): traveling all the way from Middle-of-Nowhere, Nebraska, Rainbow High is Corinne’s first interaction outside of her hometown’s sixty people. She’s not totally ignorant of the world though—she’s actually huge on the internet! Her fashion style has been dubbed Lolita Americana: gold rush pioneer outfits through a cute girly lens. Her first outfit is a cornflower blue pioneer dress with a knee length hem, high neck collar, long slightly puffed sleeves, and white apron, as well as lace knee high cornflower stockings, cornflower leather ankle boots, and a cornflower bonnet trimmed in white lace. Her second outfit is a cornflower wool coat, long cornflower wool skirt, and knee high cornflower riding boots. Her hair would have a soft wave and probably be in a half up style, and her makeup would be soft. In a perfect world she’s also got a parasol >:3

Leanna Royale (royal purple): Known for clothing real life royals and only the most fashionable celebrities, the prestigious House Royale has unveiled its latest stride into the fashion world: a daughter named Leanna. Raised from birth on fine art and livery, Leanna is a princess in all but political power. Her first outfit is a polished royal purple velvet pantsuit with a royal satin shirt and purple velvet heeled pumps. Her second outfit is a silk bejeweled minidress, royal purple bejeweled strap heels, and a royal purple fur stole. Her makeup is elegant and refined, complete with a royal purple lip. Her hair is long royal purple locs in an elegant updo, and yes: she has a tiara. She’s every bit of posh violet wishes she could be (/hj)

I’m gonna try and make these! Bases would probably be whatever I can find that’s cheap, though a good visualization I’m going on rn is based on the color create dolls (scarlet and mustard for green eyes, pumpkin and royal for purple eyes, cornflower and moss for blue eyes). Maybe I won’t go so far to do two outfits but I’ll try and at least make one for each :)

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Code Blue Ch. 21- Thunderstruck

Summary: Lee and Josie ride the storm out at the lake house, both struggling with nerves on overload and not because of the weather. Lee has an embarrassing moment. He tells Jo a story and acts it out. His heart is in the right place, but Jo panics. Apologies and sweet nothings are shared along with kissy fluff. Are you ready readers?? The moment has finally arrived. One kiss leads to another as JoLee gets sweet and spicy.

*Warnings* 18+...language, anxiety, storms, smut

Stories Stories Stories Masterlist

Chapter characters: Lee, Josie

Salem, Massachusetts

February 27, 2023

12:30 AM- The Lake House

Lee took off his coat as you stood there studying him, nervous as hell after sharing that heavenly kiss in the car just moments ago. Judging by his body language while trying to untangle his scarf, he was a bundle of nerves too. Neither of you were anxious then, so why were you both so tense now? In fact, you and Lee were so at ease with your lip lock and now you felt like you could hurl at any given moment.

"Jo...are...you ok?"

"Yeah, besides looking like a drowned rat and wanting to collapse."

"Well, you are one beautiful drowned rat who needs some rest. You're exhausted....and it's all my fault."

"Lee no...it's not. Everything tonight was all Gordon and Ethan, they triggered you. It was all so perfect before their interference. If anyone's exhausted, it's you. I'm so sorry for what you went through tonight."

Lee finally stopped moving about and smiled at you, releasing a soft sigh and lowered his head.

"Why are you smiling?"

"I think you know why."

You figured it out quickly by his tale tell blushing cheeks. The kiss....and now your stomach did one big flip, as if you were falling. He then continued on with sweet words in a much more relaxed demeanor and stance than you. It was so hard to believe this was the hot mess you witnessed only an hour ago.

"You're worried about me when you were thrown some heavy shit tonight that you didn't deserve Jo. I've asked this before and I'll ask it again...where the hell did you come from? Heaven is my only guess."

"I could ask the same of you...." you answered while anxiously biting your lip while unable to fully look him in the eyes..

"Jo...you're tense. Why don't you sit down and relax, get out of that wet coat. You seem cold. Would you like some wine to help warm you? Something to eat? I'll start a fire. There's a blanket there on the couch."

The only thing you wanted to warm you and knew that could, was his body and now your face felt extremely flushed for such a thought.

"Thank you. No...no food. Wine would be good though. Would...you mind if I go upstairs and change into something dry? I..I brought some other clothes...only because I didn't know if...I would be staying or not..."

Lee stared at you for a moment, noticing how nervous you really were. He was too, extremely.

"Jo, you can stay here anytime. I told you that you could stay tonight and the guest room where you got ready earlier, is all yours if you want it. Go ahead, go get changed and I'll pour us some wine and start this fire and....we can sit and....talk? Unless...you don't want to anymore. It's ok if you would rather just turn in soon."

Just then, the thunder rolled through the house, making you jump.

"Uhhh, no. I cannot sleep in this. Never could. I...I want to sit with you...please."

Your desperation wasn't your finest moment but the thought of being apart from him, especially right now had your tears threatening to fall, but you choked them back.

"Of course Jo. I'll stay up with you all night if I you need me to. I'm not going anywhere. You're safe here...with me."

The way he said that, his tone and how he looked at you, It was like he had x-ray vision, just like superman and could see how scared you were. It made you just want to run back into his arms and kiss him all over again...but you knew where that might lead...and now you knew exactly why you were so damn nervous.

"I'll ummm...be right back then..." you skittishly said and began to head up the stairs, tripping over the first step like the love sick klutz you were.

"Hey Jo..."

"Yeah?" you swiftly asked as you spun back around, almost losing your balance in your overwrought state.

"Thank you."

"For?"

"Being here. Being my only true friend. Being you....just for everything."

"Of...course Lee. Right back at ya babe."

Lee humbly smiled as he winked at you and walked off to the kitchen.

You barely made it to the bathroom without peeing your pants and sat on the toilet with your head in your hands, feeling your chest tightening as you panted. You had never felt so timorous in your life, not even on that rollercoaster that caused your fear of heights. How could one simple man make you feel this way? No man ever had, not even Gerry and my god, you were going to marry him. Your hands were shaking so bad that you could barely wipe yourself.

You got up, slipped out of your skirt and fumbled with the soap to wash your hands and then splashed cold water on your face.

"Come on Jo...calm your ass down before Lee has to scrape you up off the floor." you said, scolding yourself in the mirror.

Just then, you heard loud music turn on from downstairs.

"Whewwwww.....breathe Jo. You can do this...because it's everything you have always wanted....God you look like hell." you said one last time to yourself in the mirror and then went to change.

The storm was getting stronger and Lee's attempt to block out the thunder for you with music was not working. When you came downstairs, you found him peering out the window in a concerning way as the lightning flashed upon his face.

"Lee?? Is everything alright? The storm, it's getting worse isn't it?"

"Heyyy, Jo, it's alright. I was just looking out over the water. You can see it from up here. It's really pretty when the lightning flashes on it. I tried the tv to check on the weather but the satellite is out, but I haven't heard of any storm warnings for the area before today....here sweetheart, I poured your wine. You ok?"

He handed you your glass and all you could think of was how pretty his face was when the lightning flashed upon it.

"Thank you and...I guess so. I should call my mom and check on her."

"Good luck with that.. I just tried to call my farm sitter to see how things were out there. The signal is shit. Texts won't go through either. You can try the landline but I got nothing but static. Try not to worry Jo. I've got a generator if the power goes out, and a basement."

"You have a landline?" you giggled.

"Yep, doctor remember? Need all possible forms of communication....well at least I did need it..."

Lee went and sat down and patted the spot beside him.

"Come sit with me, try to relax. Put your feet up."

You were more than happy to do it as you plopped down right up against him, pulling your legs up. It's all you had wanted to do since he had put you down after carrying you inside. Lee placed his hand on your leg and smiled so lovingly at you.

"Speaking of feet...what happened to your shoes from tonight anyways?" Lee asked with a raised brow and a curled smirk.

"Oh...ummm. I kinda...threw them at Gordon's head."

Lee busted up laughing. "Dare I ask?"

"Well, after you left, I went to leave and I fell...DON'T laugh...stupid ass heels...and he tried to help me up and it just pissed me off after all he had done...one hit him square in the ass too." you explained as you also laughed.

"Ha...ha....well, I did fuck my knee up."

"I thought I saw you limping...damn Jo, can I see it?"

"Y..yeah...sure. It's...just a scrape really."

"Who's the doctor?" he jokingly reminded you again with both his brows raised. Quite the habit of his, but then again, it was quite the habit of yours to keep getting hurt.

There went your butterflies again as he began sliding your pant leg up, swarming in your gut as if there were thousands of them. The thought of his hand on your leg again, like when he checked over your ankle at his other house, sent out of control tingling sensations to your lower region.

When he pulled the fabric over your knee, he gently laid one hand on the side of your leg and with the other, he traced his finger along side the wound, causing your knee-jerk reflex as if you had been tapped with one of those medical hammers.

Lee swiped his hand back and looked at you with astonished eyes.

"Did I hurt you?? I..I'm so sorr..."

"No..nooo Lee, I... I'm fine...I..don't know what happened."

Oh yes you did, but you weren't about to tell him that his feather light touch caused such a reaction in you. You could see that he had caught on to what just happened as he replied to your answer with a very cute smirk.

If he were honest too, he would tell you that simply touching your knee was also doing out of control things to him in places they shouldn't be, and your reaction to his touch didn't help. All he could envision was you in that mini skirt you had on earlier. He quickly stood up with his hands on his hips and nervously sighed.

"Yeah... ok then, I am going to go get some peroxide to clean that up." he rambled out and hurried off.

You flung yourself against the back of the couch, throwing your hands over your face and quietly groaned. Of course, your hands were intensely covered in his cologne, making you whimper. What in the world was happening? You had always been quite jittery around him because of how you felt for him, but it was now magnified times a thousand after sharing an out of this world kiss and professing your love for one another. If the two of you ended up in bed, you were almost certain you would unravel before he even got to fourth base.

Lee fumbled through the medicine cabinet as his forehead began to lightly perspire. He stopped and placed his hands on the vanity and lowered his head with a heavy exhale powering out of him. His eyes unwillingly traveled to his man hood that was becoming prominent under his slacks.

"No..no..no..noooo.no NO...Not now." he complained in a whisper as he crunched his eyes shut. "You just shut up!" he ordered to his cock as if it could hear him, and worse yet, as if it would listen. He repeatedly splashed cold water on his face and dried it off as he chuckled and shook his head, pacing in a circle until, finally his soldier was at ease.

Lightning flashed and then a sonic boom of thunder pounded over the house, rumbling through the floor, causing the lights to go out.

"LEE!!!" you screamed as you sprung up.

"Jo! I'm coming, it's alright."

Lee raced up to you and you leaped up into his arms just as the lights came back on.

"It's alright baby, I've got you. It's ok, It's ok." he sweetly assured you as he caressed your back.

You were shaking so bad as you squeezed him like a boa constrictor. His embrace took all your fear away as he lightly rocked you, as if you were dancing again, just like after the elevator episode.

Lee kissed your head softly and lifted his head up to look at you as he held his hand on your cheek.

"I'll never let anything happen to you. Come on, please sit back down and let me fix your knee up."

You believed him with every ounce of your soul and sat down as he asked. This time you lifted your pant leg up for him to make things easier on the both of you. Lee grabbed the peroxide and cotton balls off the table where he had tossed them on his sprint to get to you, and then sat down beside you. Gently, he began dabbing the cotton balls over your wound, careful not to touch your skin again at all with his hand so he didn't have a repeat episode with his defiant member down below.

Another bout of thunder rippled through the house, making you tense up, so Lee began talking to you while he tended to your knee, like the two of you were supposed to be doing anyways.

"When I was a kid, I was scared of storms too. We lived in Texas before we moved to the farm just outside of Salem. I'm sure you can imagine what the storms there were like. I would hide under the kitchen table or behind the couch with Gordon. As kids, he used to look out for me. He was scared too and one night dad got out some flashlights, told us they were storm zappers, that all we had to do was point them at the sky and the storm would be afraid of us and leave. Of course, me being a kid, I asked him how, because we certainly didn't want to go outside to do it. He said for the mild storms, it would work if we just pointed it at the ceiling. Well, me and Gordon tried that, but obviously, it didn't work. I remember crying, so dad, my hero, took the flashlights and went outside to zap the storm himself as Gordon and I knelt on the couch and watched from the window. Now mind you, it didn't work either BUT my dad was out there in the blowing wind and rain, soaking wet doing the funniest things, like falling over on the muddy ground as if the wind was too strong and it had me and Gordon cracking up, totally distracting us from our fears...which is exactly why my dad did what he did...and because of him, I was no longer scared of any storm."

Lee then began rolling up his sleeves and crossed his arms over his stomach as if he were pondering on something.

"Lee, your dad sounds like he was the best dad in the world and obviously loved you very much to do something so dangerous like that...I'm so glad it helped you. If only storm zappers were real, then I wouldn't be afraid anymore."

"Oh but they are real. I'll show you." Lee said with a sly smile and a look in his eyes that told you he was about to do something off the wall.

"Wait, what?"

Lee got up and scavenged through a drawer, pulling out two flashlights and checking to see if they worked...and then looked down at you.

"I promise to be careful...just watch."

"Lee, WHAT are you doing???"

He walked out the side door off of the kitchen as you jumped up and followed him, standing in the open doorway.

"Lee, stop this! There's lightning, you could be struck and it's so windy, a tree branch could fall on you or something! You don't need to do this baby please!"

"I know I don't. I want to. I don't want you to be afraid anymore."

"But I am afraid, FOR YOU!!"

The fact that he was doing this for you was honorable, yet fucking ridiculous, but you still couldn't help loving him even more for his determination and selflessness.

All you could do was watch as the rain plummeted over him. He was completely saturated within seconds. The lightning was like a disco show as the thunder drummed to it.

Lee stood for a moment and just stared at the sky, letting the rain wash over his face as he stretched his arms out. Something in this moment told you it wasn't all solely for you, but for him as well. You believed he felt connected to his father by doing this and that he also didn't want to be afraid anymore from the storms life was throwing at him....and it broke your heart.

Lee then turned to look at you...instead of showing him your fear, you just smiled at him and let him have this moment, while praying to God he would be safe.

He then raised the flashlights to the sky and began slowly spinning around, as if he were zapping every inch of the storm with his will. You had never seen anything so damn sexy but yet so scary as the lightning danced all around him.

And then...he did it....what he told you his father did. Lee began acting as if the wind was knocking him over as he tumbled around on the ground....and then got right back up and began fearlessly fighting the storm again.

You stood in awe with tears while laughing because you just couldn't help it. This was your man, your unstoppable hero and you wanted to spend the rest of your life with him.

Lee then stopped, raised his arms straight up as he stared at the sky again, pointing the lights at the storm and then gave one final swipe of his arms, slaying the monstrous beast.

"Lee, please come inside!"

Finally, Lee came to the door.

"Are you satisfied yet, or do you maybe want to run around the block a few times, taunting the lightning some more to strike you down??"

"I don't." he replied in a somber tone followed by a tiny frown.

He could tell you were unhappy as you abruptly moved to the side, staring at him for him to pass.

Once inside, Lee grabbed a towel from the bathroom and sat at the table vigorously drying his hair.

"Now who's the drowned rat?" he chuckled as you just stared at him some more.

"Ok storm slayer, you killed it. Are you happy now?"

Although you appreciated what he did and was trying to do, you were slightly pissed off.

"You're...mad..." he quietly said as he gazed up at you.

"Yeah Lee, I am. I get what you did and why, but you could have been hurt or even killed and I'm not ok with that at all! Do you have any idea what that would have done to me??"

Your eyes welled up again as he stood in remorse.

"Jo..I....I only wanted to help you...because...I...I love you."

Instead of saying it back, you carried on in your anxious state.

"That's no reason to put your life at risk Lee! It's like you lost all rationalization...and it was just plain stupid! Were you trying to get yourself killed? because it almost seemed like it. You can't just come into my life like this, make me fall for you and then do dumb shit that could take you away and I know how selfish I sound right now, but I don't fucking care. I would rather go through the storms with you than without you....damn it."

Lee was speechless for a moment after you rebuked him in such a manner.

"You're right. It was very fucking stupid of me, which that's all I seem to do is stupid shit. I'm a fuck up, I get it. I am going to go dry off." he flatly said, then walked around you and swiftly left the room, cranking up the music and then headed upstairs.

Now you were the one who felt instantly stupid and really bad. You poured another glass of wine and knocked it back. As you went to go after him, you caught sight of something and stopped to look at it. Drawings...all over the refrigerator. Jacob's drawings. You wondered if they had always been there or if Lee had just recently put them up when he was unpacking the boxes of Jacob's things he brought there from the other house....and now you felt even more like shit. You needed to go apologize, so you slowly crept up the stairs to find him.

Your anxiety was causing you to overheat, so you quickly went into your room and removed your shirt, leaving only a skimpy white tank top on that you wore underneath. You stared in the mirror, now feeling to bare as you fidgeted with your cleavage area and then tied your hair back. Picking up a magazine, you fanned yourself aggressively, trying to breathe and get the annoying hot flash to go away. Once it subsided, you then took a few deep breaths to settle your raging butterflies and went to his room.

The door was ajar enough for you to see in. Lee was sitting at a desk, lost in thought and still in his damp clothes. You slowly walked in and went over to him.

"Lee.." you squeaked, almost in a whisper. "I...god I am so sorry. I...I was just so scared for you, much more than I was of the storm. If anything were to happen to you...I...I just can't even think of it...."

He gazed up at you briefly, affected by your words, then lowered his eyes back to where they were.

"I understand what you were doing. I'm not upset about that. In fact, it means the world to me that you would go to such lengths to make me feel safe, but I don't feel safe when I don't feel that you are safe...I..I can't lose you Lee...I..I love you too. So much."

You smiled at him, trying so hard not to cry.

"And...god it feels so good to say it, because I need you to know something. I have been in love with you for quite some time now, so scared that you didn't feel the same way or that if I told you, you would run...because I know that love was the last thing you were looking for. It was the same for me. I swore all men off, that they were the devil and vowed to never let anyone in ever again...and then there you were, my prince on a great white horse that I only ever wrote and dreamed about, and there were times that I swear I could feel that you were out there but I refused to try and find you, telling myself that if it was meant to be, we would find each other when the time was right. When I found you, you rocked my entire world in a way that's indescribable. A thief in the night that stole my heart. I couldn't get you out of my head and...you were just so perfect, in every way to me. I had such a hard time believing you were real, that's why I pushed you away before. You scared the hell out of me, and if I am being honest, you still do....because I have never felt this way for anyone...ever...and the thought of losing it, losing you...There is no one like you and could never be...tonight...I...I just panicked and I was so mean and cruel and I swear to god, I didn't mean to be because I would never hurt you. Seeing you in any kind of pain hurts me and I just want to take your pain all away and I can't....just like you were trying to do for me tonight."

Lee's eyes then locked into yours and you could see that he believed you and was deeply moved, and even taken aback by what you just confessed.

"Jo, I understand why you reacted the way you did. You were right, it was stupid. I shouldn't have behaved so carelessly. especially with your feelings. Instead of making you feel better, which is all I was trying to do, I only made you feel worse. I scared you and I am so sorry, because the last thing I ever want to do is scare you. You deal with enough fear in your life and don't need me adding to it. I've wanted to tell you so many times how I felt about you, but I was just so afraid I would push you away again., and yet there I was, pushing you away. The truth is, we were just so afraid of each other because it was all so new to both of us. Everything...every single thing we have done in our lives and been through has led us to each other, and it was hard for me too, to believe you were real but all the signs that you have made me believe in, I couldn't deny anymore. You say you want to take all my pain away, well...I want to take all your fears away...but I too... can't. I want to be your hero, the superman you dream of. You turned my world upside down from the first time ever I saw your face..and those beautiful sun-like eyes of yours, I thought the sun rose in them...they just sucked me right in like some vortex... you tore up my life Jo, in the best way possible....you literally had me at hello...and yes I've seen Jerry McGuire." he lightly chuckled and took in a nervous breath, then continued.

"You're my lady strange Jo, because I too, have never experienced anyone like you or anything like this and I don't want to lose this or you. I can't. I'm so lost in you that I can't see straight anymore. I fell so damn hard for you, tripped over my own two feet and fell face first, flat on the floor. I can't imagine a world without you. I've been missing something my entire life and now I know that something was you. You're my rock and my true best friend and I am so in love with you, it hurts. You're literally the love of my life Josephine Leeann March. I am nothing without you, no one, nothing at all."

Lee was becoming emotional in expressing how he felt about you, trying to choke back his own tears and hold eye contact with you, and you were just absolutely falling to pieces inside over his heartfelt words that were damn near like wedding vows.

You needed to touch him. You needed to make him feel loved and wanted. He was so vulnerable, so broken and you wanted to do everything in your power to put him back together again.

You squatted down beside him and reached your arms up, tenderly placing your hands on each side of his face. He struggled with looking at you and you knew that was because this was all new to him, being so naked, trusting you with his shattered heart.

Piece by piece, you were going to stitch him back up. You were going to be the doctor now and take care of him for once. He had been neglected for so long in the ways that mattered before you met him and he had felt so alone and lost.

"I'm here now Lee...and just like you want to protect me, I want to protect you. You told me I was safe with you and I need you to know that...you are safe with me too. I have waited a lifetime for you."

A tear snuck out of his eye and rolled down his cheek.

"God Jo, if you only knew. You're the only one I believe in. There are times I can't breathe without you next to me."

"I do know...I'm right here beside you so...just breathe. Just like you told me to do, remember?"

Lee gasped in and then exhaled as another tear fell.

You leaned into him and lovingly kissed his tears and then his forehead. Finally, he looked into your sympathetic eyes with such incredulity in his drowning eyes over your genuine endearment.

"Where...did you come from?" he whispered.

"You already asked me that." you replied with a soft smile.

"And you never answered me."

"From right here..." you humored him and placed your hand over his racing heart.

Another moment was there, screaming at you to go to him and nothing or no one was there to interrupt it. Slowly, you brought your lips to his and softly kissed him.

Nose to nose, he then opened his eyes and gazed at you.

"Jo...is this real?" he asked with an exhilarated smile.

"Let me show you just how real this is."

You slid your hands up his neck and pushed into him, kissing him so deeply. His hands glided up your back, pulling you against him as he lowly moaned. As your lips reluctantly parted, Lee stared down at your hands and then at you like a frightened little boy. You didn't realize you had partially opened his shirt, revealing his chest.

"Jo....I...."

"Shhhh. You're safe with me, I promise. I've seen your scars. They're a part of you and I...I love you Lee....you. I only see you."

Your eyes lowered to your hands and you slowly began to undo the next button as he watched, frozen, forgetting to breathe.

You smiled as you looked back up at him. "Breathe..."

The music from downstairs was still blaring on shuffle, and just then, a song came on that couldn't have been more perfect for what was happening...another sign, you thought.

(En Vogue- Don't Let Go)

Your lips grazed his chest and softly kissed one of his scars. You could feel the erratic thumping of his heart against your mouth as his fingers trembled upon your back.

Lee suddenly exhaled deeply and began to breathe, and as he did so, you felt his hands grip your waist. You squeaked as you were then hoisted up over his lap. His breathing was heavy as his bare chest rose and lowered in thirst for you, his pupils dilating in hunger. You undid the rest of his buttons, slowly, one by one while he continued to watch like a mountain lion. Seductively, you opened his shirt up and gazed at his toned form. His stomach quivered as you laid your palms over his belly button, gliding them up to his chest. Lowering your head, you then butterfly kissed his midriff. Lee sucked his stomach in as he arched his head back and released a hard moan with your name inside of it as if he had been punched in the gut. To him, he had been, because your touch was doing insane things to his body that were beyond his control.

Lee swiftly sat up, running his hands up your back and fingers up through your hair, passionately kissing you, this time his gently tongue finding yours. Small whimpers escaped you as you pushed your hips into his rapidly growing hardness, pushing Lee over the edge.

"Hold on to me."

He placed his hands under the back of your thighs and stood up as you wrapped your legs around him. The kissing began again as he slowly moved towards the bed. The feeling of being up so high in this 6'5 man's strong arms truly made you feel like you were his Lois Lane.

Lee knelt on the bed and gently laid you down with your legs still gripped around his waist.

"Am...am I too heavy?" he asked in concern before let his weight fall over you.

"God no, come here." you panted and pulled him into another deep kiss. You couldn't get enough of his taste and the way that he kissed you.

You slid your hands under his shirt and over his shoulders in an attempt to remove his shirt completely. He balanced himself on one arm as he shook the other to free himself from the sleeve with your help, and then repeated with the other, giving the shirt a free throw right onto the chair you just made out on. The heat of his skin was driving you wild as he laid back down upon you. Your hands traveled like a race car all over his muscular back and arms as he fervidly kissed your neck and collar bone, sending goosebumps clear down your legs and a throbbing ache into your core. His velvety kisses continued to your chest as you ran your fingers up through his downy hair. Lee's hand pushed up your side and as he neared your breast, you jerked and giggled.

"I..I'm sorry! Should I stop? Is this too much?" he desperately asked.

"Noooo! Please don't. I...I'm just...ticklish." you laughed and stroked his cheek.

Lee closed his eyes and sighed in relief as he formed a smile and chuckled.

"Here..." you said and crossed your arms over your stomach, grabbing the end of your tank top and without hesitation, you glided it up and over your head, revealing your highly aroused breasts.

Lee's mouth dropped open as he went into some kind of trance, staring at your body.

"God...you're beautiful." he whispered as his eyes came back up to yours.

"Right back at ya babe." you sweetly said as you traced his scars with your index finger.

Lee took that hand and kissed it, and then you pulled his hand down and led it to your breast with an approving smile. He tenderly cupped it and kissed your nose, then your cheek and then took your mouth fully into his once more. Now that you were skin to skin, his body heat was intense and you craved him even more.

You tightened your legs around him and began softly rocking your aching bud into his now solid cock. Lee responded with a deep groan and pushed back against you in a slow swaying motion. If this kept up, you weren't going to make it, just like you told yourself earlier.

Your hands released his back and slid under him, searching for the button on his pants. He stopped kissing you and slightly lifted up.

"Jo....are...are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life. I've dreamt of this for so long. Make love to me Lee."

He was speechless for a few seconds, so you helped him out and stuck your thumbs inside your leggings, then began to slide them down.

Lee backed up onto his knees and sat on his heels as he took your hands, helping you pull them off. His eyes rolled over your now vulnerable form as you nervously kept your legs together with your hands on your knees.

"So have I, so many times."

You climbed up on your knees and over his lap, molding against him. He kissed you again, intensely, over and over. You clutched his hair in your fist as you could now feel his solid form between your legs more prominently.

The heat was stronger than his bare skin and you reveled at his size, almost worried it was going to hurt at first because you hadn't been with anyone in so long....but you also knew as slick as you felt, the pain would be short lived and oh so worth it.

Lee lifted you up and laid you back upon the pillows, still kissing you. His hand glided up your entire leg, ankle to thigh as your nails gently grazed down his long back, making him gasp and grind against you.

You aggressively pulled at his pants, wanting them gone. Lee understood and swiftly lifted up, unbuttoned his pants, then unzipped them and slid them down along with his boxer briefs. The room was dimly lit, but you could still see the silhouette of his full attention, confirming to you that it was definitely going to hurt.

Lee maneuvered his legs free from his pants and whipped them through the air, falling right back into your welcoming anxious arms.

His cock was so hot as he pressed it over you. The soon to be inflicted pain was gone from your mind and overtaken with wanting him inside of you right now.

"Please..." you whispered into his ear as he kissed your neck.

He brought his face to yours, his blue orbs fixed in your lustful eyes and caressed your cheek, kissing your lips softly, then he raised his hips, letting your hand guide him to your entrance. Once you actually held him in your hand, your stomach did a flip, knowing you were about to lose the ability to breathe...

Lee sensed your tension and didn't move as he laced his fingers into yours. The sweet form of endearment helped you to relax a little.

"I love you Jo....more than anything in this world."

You kissed him and smiled as your eyes teared up with love, for you were getting everything you ever wanted and more.

"I love you too Lee."

His hand gripped yours firmly as he gently pushed into you.

"Ahhhh!" you cried out at the sting as you arched your back.

Lee gasped and looked at you. "Jo...sweetheart...I can stop. We don't have to do this."

"Oh yes we do." you panted.

Your aching desire for him overruled your pain, for it would be gone in a matter of seconds once he was fully sheathed.

You placed your free hand on his glorious bottom and pulled at him, encouraging him to continue, and so he did.

Lee cautiously pushed again as you held your breath. Again, and again he entered you a little further with soft shallow thrusts until your wetness covered him, and finally, he slid all the way inside of you.

"Breathe Jo." he said as he stopped.

You blurted out a deep exhale and kissed him, then began to rock your hips up. The pain was history and all you felt now was the urge for him to go faster.

"I'm ok, please, don't stop. I want you so much." you pleaded and kissed him frantically.

He slid partially out and then back in, pushing deeply as he softly moaned in your ear, and then began moving at a steady pace.

"My god, you feel so good Jo."

You moved with him, wrapping your legs around his lower backside, taking in the immense pleasure. Every time he became flush with you, you could feel your walls threatening to unravel. You knew what a powerful feeling that was going to be, but the moment you were in right now was so impassioned, that you just had to make it last.

Lee kissed your neck and massaged your breast as you rocked up into him, groping at his back and lightly biting his shoulder. His moans became louder and more consistent as he now was thrusting in a more zealous way. You had experienced a few erotic dreams of him, but this by far surpassed them all combined. The only difference is, this time you had better control over your release, or so you believed. The fact that he was nipping at your sweet spot with every grind meant that when you climaxed, it was going to be sudden and without warning for you to be able to stop it and prolong it.

"Are you ok baby?' he panted into your ear and nipped at your lobe.

"Uh huh..." is all you could mutter through your hard and heavy breaths.

Lee smiled and placed you arms above your head, held your hands and picked up his pace. His thrusts were harder and deeper...you were not going to make it much longer, but you knew if you asked him to slow down, you would unwind within seconds.

It didn't seem he was going to be able to hold back much longer on you either. He was perspiring and pursing his lips as his forehead laid upon yours, letting hard sighs escape him every other lunge forward. Your profound moans weren't helping his case either....so he did what you hoped he actually wouldn't do...he slowed down.

Lee's momentum was now laggard but extremely intense as he was shaking with every drive forward. This was going to be it, for both of you. Nothing could stop it, just like a volcano that was about to erupt and eject it's hot magma.

"God.....Lee.....I....can't..." you whimpered over his lips.

You should have never opened your mouth, because it set him off. The culminated rapture had arrived as he propelled forward at an excessive rate, his breathing erratic and loud.

Thunder crashed all around the room, making the anticipated moment biblical.

"Jo...fuck....Jo....."

"Oh my...oh god, my god...oh...Leeeeeee!" you squealed as you bucked your hips up with raging force. You saw blackness with stars bursting into glitter as you vigorously unhinged on him. You could swear you felt the earth move through your vehement contractions.

Lee bellowed out a substantial groan as he released, his hand now clutching the headboard with white knuckles. You felt every violent pulse of his cock as he expelled into you. Jesus, you were coming again....

"Fuuuuuuck!!!" you screamed, rolling your hips ferociously as this orgasm outdid the first. Britt had told yo once that you were wound like a top, and boy was that an understatement.

"My god....baby...." Lee panted as he held your face and kissed your forehead. "Are...you ok?" he asked with a cute smug smile.

"Y...yea...yeah.." you smiled and stuttered as you were going through the aftershocks. You smile quickly collapsed into a frown as you began to cry and flung your arms around him, clinging to him tightly.

"Jo, sweet girl, why are you crying?" Lee asked as he held you snuggly and stroked your hair.

"I...I...I just....I love you so much and...this... was just...everything, so perfect. God, please believe me, that I am so happy right now." you explained in a soft whine as you gazed into his eyes.

Lee lightly chuckled. "Oh my girl...you have no idea how happy I am right now too. I don't ever want to let you go. I love you too Jo March, till the end of time, my love."

@redeemer46

[arthurs-nipples]

Could have been me...

Hi, umm

This is my first story here so please don’t murder me. Recently started playing RDR2 and man Arthur.. Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Sweet man. 🥵😍 I also read a fanfiction around here, and it inspired me to give it this setting.

I’m not trying to be historically correct but Wiki has been helpful. 🥴

It’s all fluff 😚🥰... maybe a little bit of angst if that’s how you’ll take it. Idk.

Reader X Arthur Morgan.

With Mary Linton! 

Oh this is a fun one. 😈

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

1912  Boston, Massachusetts

The city of Boston was bustling with energy, people walking in all directions, children playing on the streets, with horses marching around carrying passengers and carriages. “Extra!, Extra! Read all about it!” a newspaper boy hollers, waving the article in the air, “Survivors of the Titanic have arrived in New York!”. Arthur Morgan passes by, exchanging a coin for the paper “Thank you, sir!” the boy smiles, Morgan just curtly nods walking past the boy. He decides to go find an area with less traffic, it didn’t take him long to see a nearby pharmacy where a few smokers stood puffing their cigars and chooses a spot by a wall where he leans and begins to read the paper. 

A bell tinkled, and the pharmacy’s door swung open. Ignoring to look, a woman steps out and stares at his direction. “Arthur?”

A familiar voice piqued his ears and he looks up to see Mary Linton, hurriedly approaching him with a smile. “Mary, Good t’see you” he smiles as she holds her hands together up to her chest. She took a moment to stare at Arthur, almost in disbelief “You’re looking.. Good.” she says as her head tilts around him, orbs scanning more of him.

Arthur chuckles, folding his paper away to tuck it under his arm “Yeah… y’could say that… changes I guess”. Arthur looked a lot healthier since the last time they had seen each other, his hair looked neat, new clothes and his smile looked bright. “What brings you here?”

A light blush dusts across her cheeks as she playfully tucks a loose hair on her ear “Well…. Jamie’s gettin’ married and I’m here to visit him”. Arthur’s eyes widen “Jamie? Well that’s good on us to stop him from joinin’ that damn turtle cult, have y’met her?” 

“She’s lovely” 

“I’m glad, m’ proud of him.” 

There was a short moment between the two where they chuckled before Mary spoke up

“What.. happened to you? You’re looking real good Arthur, still with the gang?” she stares up at him, taking a closer step towards him as she reaches both of her hands out to hold his arms. Expecting him to react friendly towards her, instead he flinches and lightly tugs his arms back causing her to raise her brows in confusion, retreating her hands away trying to make it seem like it was nothing. 

“Well, the gang had a falling out. My good friends and I decided to just leave, and start off on our own. Gettin’ hard bein an outlaw nowadays” 

There was something that felt off about Arthur to Mary, the way his eyes just stared at her, his smile sure was different but this time he gave off of a vibe that just felt… casual. “Arthur” she whispers, “I’m really happy to hear that you’ve left the life, you’ve started a new one, I think we all have” she continues, “I think this means, that… Maybe we can-”

“Arthur! There you are!”

The two turn around towards the voice, heading towards them. There she was, dressed in a pastel yellow straight silhouette dress was this gorgeous woman that neared them, Mary looks up towards Arthur who’s smile gleamed staring at the woman “(Y/N)”.

She stands between the two, looking a little confused at the silence before Arthur clears his throat “Sweetheart this’s Mary”. Said Mary’s eyes widen in confusion, sweetheart?, she looks towards (Y/N) who smiles back at her, holding her hand out for her “Mary, this is M’wife, (Y/N).”

“Oh!” she looks down, blood draining from her face as she looks up again to fake a smile “Nice.. to meet you.. Mrs.. Morgan” she nods, taking (Y/N)’s hands and shaking it. 

Her world paused for a moment, in disbelief as she said his last name to address his wife. It should… could have been Mary Morgan, Mrs Mary Morgan. But she instead found herself staring up at the happy couple, trying to keep up a forced smile as her cheeks madly blushed, rather in humiliation. 

“You live here in Boston now?” (Y/N) asks, Mary looks up towards her as Arthur just stood behind her, pulling the paper out and unfolding it. “N-No, ma’am” she replies to (Y/N) who’s kept a sincere smile. “I told Arthur, but m’brother Jamie is getting married soon and I’m here to visit him”

“Ohh!! That’s great news! Since you’re only here to visit, Arthur and I have a place down close to Portland in Maine, if you haven’t been and got the time, we could show you ‘round!”

She’s so… kind. Does this girl even know about the history of me and Arthur?

Mary nods, smile faltering “I’d.. be more than happy to but I need to go back home.. After the wedding”

(Y/N) takes Mary’s hand between the two of hers, “Well, best of luck to you and your brother” she smiles yet once again before letting go “I’d really like to chat more but we have to head back before evening, really nice to meet you Mary.” (Y/N) nods at her as she turns around towards Arthur who read the newspaper, squinting a little in confusion trying to read the text. “Let’s go cowboy”

Arthur folds the paper and nods at Mary before turning back to walk away with (Y/N) “Told y’ to stop callin’ me cowboy”.

“What’ch want me callin you then? Daddy?”

“Hold on now”.

Mary stood, watching the two walk away with neither of them looking back at her. They both looked so happy, his wife laughing and smiling at him as he looks fondly at her. It could have been her, had she stayed with him, it would have been so different, she could have changed his life, she would be in the same position as where (Y/N) is now with Arthur. Now she felt like she’s nothing to him.

Regret pushed her down, and her heart sank for the last time as she saw Arthur taking his hat off to cover his face as he leaned down to kiss his wife. 

[hazel-light]

CATCH UP ON CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter Two Word Count: ~8,500

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn't mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me feedback on the first part! I really appreciate it :) Things pick up quite a bit here.... I hope you all enjoy! The third part will be up tomorrow, as promised. <3

It was finally time to fly back to Massachusetts. I had changed my flight so that Daniel and I could be on the same one and seated together.

It’s ridiculously early when I arrive at his apartment to pick him up in our shared Uber, since we have to account for the time difference on the East Coast. He opens the door to his apartment, looking super cozy and ready for travel, one suitcase behind him and a backpack by the door.

“Today’s the day,” I grin at him.

“Oh shit, is it really?” He feigns, rolling his eyes. “Good thing I packed early, then.”

“You’re a professional traveler by this point, I bet you have it down pat.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? I actually put a bit more thought into this trip than I usually do.... I need to make a good impression, and I’m making a lot of first impressions.”

I can’t keep my face from forming an endeared expression. “That’s really cute.”

He puts his hands up bashfully. “I take my roles very seriously, Lauren.”

I shake my head. “Well, it means a lot to me; not only that you’re doing this, but that you’re taking it seriously.”

He shrugs, softening his playful demeanor. “Even if we weren’t together in their eyes, I would care what your family thinks. They’re important to you, so it’s important to me.”

“Dannnnielllll,” I whine, “Please don't make me cry this early in the day.”

He laughs, picking up his luggage. “At this rate you’re not going to survive the weekend. I haven’t even turned on my boyfriend charm yet.”

God help me then, I think, making my way back to the car.

Getting through LAX is fairly easy, and remarkably Daniel successfully flies under the radar. He offers to let me have the window seat, but I let him take it, figuring the farther out of sight from the aisle he is, the better.

Like all flights, I fall asleep as soon as we hit cruising altitude; Daniel has his headphones in and spends the time working on something in a notebook. In what seems like minutes, I’m being gently shaken awake by a smiling Daniel.

“Lovely girlfriend of mine, it’s time to rise and shine. Our relationship starts,” he pretends to check the time, “now.”

“Oh thank you, handsome boyfriend. I’m ready.”

Daniel laughs as we stand and wait to exit the plane. Once we step off and onto the ramp, Daniel offers me his hand. “Ready?”

I lace my fingers through his and try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “Ready.”

Getting our luggage from baggage claim is fairly painless, which leads us to looking for Ryan and Katharine, his longtime girlfriend, in the airport. They’re picking us up on their way to the hotel on the Cape, where the wedding reception is going to be held, and also where we’re going to be staying.

We walk through the airport hand in hand, as I check my phone yet again to see if Ryan has texted. Nothing. We stop for a moment, and peripherally I hear a girl’s voice from behind us,

“Um excuse me, are you Daniel Sharman? Can I get a photo?”

I glance at Daniel, whose face has gone blank. I move to let go of his hand instinctively but he tightens his grip as we turn around. I laugh when I realize the voice belongs to Katharine, who’s standing in front of Ryan, who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Not funny, you guys,” I say, biting back a grin. “We haven’t been recognized so far.”

I turn back to Daniel, who’s looking at me slightly confused. “Daniel, please meet Ryan and his girlfriend Katharine.”

“Oh,” he laughs, reaching out to shake their hands. “That was good. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Katharine knocks into Ryan, who’s still grinning. “It was this loser’s idea. He said he couldn't do it because you’d recognize his voice too soon.”

“A fair point,” I add, teasing. “Besides, women tend to be Daniel’s main demographic, so.”

Daniel scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“What?” I laugh, “It’s true.”

“I wanted to see if you’d drop her hand in front of a fan,” Ryan challenges. “You passed the test.”

“That’s a stupid test, Ry. I wouldn’t have been offended if he did, since this is our first public outing as a couple.”

Daniel looks at me like I’ve somehow insulted him. “I would never do that to you, Laur. That’s crazy; I wouldn’t try to hide you.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying.” I look at Ryan expectantly. “Still trying to figure out why you haven’t hugged me yet.”

“It takes two hands to hug, I think,” he taunts, nodding towards where Daniel and I are still holding hands.

I blush. “Can you not be this annoying? We literally just arrived.” I let go of Daniel’s hand and step toward Ryan. Katharine and Daniel watch amusedly as Ryan and I hug, trying to see who can crush the other the most. “I missed you, dummy.”

“I missed you, too. You can let go now. Really.”

I let go of Ryan and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re a brat.”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

I grab the handle of my suitcase, smiling at Daniel, who smiles softly back at me. I glance at his hand and then back at him, and he chuckles softly as he meets me halfway in my attempt to hold his hand again. I blush and look away, turning my attention back to Ryan and Katharine, who are leading us out of the airport to where they’d parked.

---

The car ride to the hotel on the Cape is filled with small talk, mainly questions for Daniel, who takes them in stride. I watch him and smile as he is able to keep up with Ryan’s antics and provide thoughtful answers. He is anything but flustered, and I feel a sense of pride trickle through me. At some point, Daniel catches me watching up with a smile on my face and he just smiles back, continuing his easy conversation with Ryan and Katharine. I jump in where I’m needed, or when I can provide something interesting, but for the most part I bask in how well things seem to be going.

Once we arrive and park at the hotel, the four of us get our luggage and head inside to check in. Ryan gives our name to the woman at the desk and she looks us up.

“Got it. I see the mother of the bride reserved two king rooms on the wedding family floor, which is 3.” I see Ryan glance at us, but I just don’t look at him, I just squeeze Daniel’s hand.

“That sounds right to me.”

Daniel nods next to me. The woman nods and hands us each two key cards. We thank her and head to the elevator for our floor.

Katharine checks her phone. “Do you guys want to get settled and meet back up for dinner? The hotel restaurant has seating out by the beach.”

I look at Daniel who looks at me before shrugging. “Yeah, that sounds great. You want to meet in like 45 minutes?”

The elevator dings and we exit to our floor. Our room is farther down the hall than Ryan and Katharine’s.

“Sure, we’ll head over to your room then.” Ryan smiles before ducking into his room with Katharine.

Once I hear their door click shut, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Daniel huffs a laugh at me, stopping to unlock our door.

“You alright?”

“Great. How’re you doing with all this?”

“Good; they’re nice— Ryan is literally exactly what I expected.”

I laugh at that and follow Daniel into the room. I look around and admire the quaint decor. The bed takes up most of the room but there’s a closet and a bureau on the opposite wall, and tall windows that don’t open but overlook the beach below and the sea beyond. Opposite the windows is a wall covered in different paintings and signs— very boho beachy.

I sit on the bed and look at Daniel, who’s already unzipping his luggage to hang up his suit.

“This is cute,” I comment.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

I bite my nail and watch as he turns around to face the closet.

“I uh, forgot that we’d be sharing a bed. Just didn’t think of it— sorry.”

Daniel laughs and gives me an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“You thought your aunt would book us two beds even though as far as she knows we’re super in love?”

I blush. “Well, no. I just— I don’t know, I didn’t even think about it is all I meant.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t bother me. I quite appreciate a good cuddle, if I’m honest. Haven’t had one in a while.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Why— do you hate that? Are you one of those women who like their space?”

I snort. “No, no, we can cuddle. You just surprise me, is all.”

“Surprise you, huh?”

Daniel turns around with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He takes two strides so he’s standing in front of me, and puts his hands on either side of my face. He leans down so we’re eye to eye and I can’t help but glance briefly at his lips, wondering if he’s going to kiss me again.

“You know,” he says softly, “You should really unpack your dress so it doesn’t wrinkle.” He winks and pulls back, kissing my forehead.

I shake my head even though he’s facing away from me now, hopping off the bed to follow his advice.

“You’re trouble, Sharman. Such a tease.”’

“Sorry?” He looks at me innocently, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Oh, were you expecting a kiss?”

I feel myself blush as I pull my dress out and walk around him to hang it up.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. Like I said, you’re full of surprises.”

He lowers his voice. “So, you don’t want a kiss?”

I turn around to face him, eyes narrowed, thoughts rushing, but before I can retort there’s a knock on the door.

I turn away promptly to answer the door, grateful for the exit. I hear Daniel chuckle behind me as I open the door to reveal Ryan, who clears his throat.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” He peers past me, presumably at Daniel. “Katharine called the restaurant to make a reservation and they only had a 6:45, so she said we’d take it. I tried to text you but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” I apologize. “My phone's still in my bag. We were unpacking.”

“That’s fine. Are you guys good to head to dinner, or...?”

I feel an arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah, we’re good. I grabbed your purse, Laur, and I have my wallet and the room key.”

I can feel Ryan watching me so I lean back against Daniel’s chest and look up at him. “Thank you,” I say sweetly, taking my bag from him before turning back to Ryan. “Let’s go.”

—-

Dinner on the beach is lovely. There’s a subtle warm breeze and the food is delicious. The conversation is easy and I can’t help but feel an unusual sense of peace of bringing two of my favorite men together and having them get along so well.

I’m in a reverie when I feel Daniel’s hand lightly squeeze my thigh, bringing me back to reality. I blink, looking across the table at Ryan and Katharine, and try to ignore Daniel smirking next to me.

“Hmm? Sorry, I dazed out there for a minute.”

Katharine laughs. “Totally fine, I was asking how it’s been dating someone who's in the spotlight.”

“Oh, um.” I pause, taking a sip of water. “It’s been fine, you know, since we’ve been so low key about it. The public doesn’t know about us. I imagine it’d be different then.”

Daniel nods. “I think for the most part, the fans would be welcoming, but there are always going to be people who… aren’t.”

Ryan leans on his hand, looking between the two of us. “Isn’t it weird, though? The thought that there are so many girls thinking about getting with your boyfriend constantly?”

“I—” I look at Daniel, who looks mortified, but also curious at how I’ll respond. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

Ryan makes a noise of indignation. “You watch his movies and shows and stuff, don’t you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course I do.”

“And it isn’t weird watching him make out with people on screen? Doesn’t it make you jealous?”

I open and close my mouth. I can tell behind his hand Daniel’s smirking, and even Katharine’s looking at me curiously.

“Well, of course I don’t love it— but I mean— it’s his job. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

I look at Daniel, who’s looking at me curiously.

“You never said it made you jealous.”

“I mean—” I shrug, at a loss for words.

He looks at me for a moment before looking away, clearing his throat as we’re interrupted by the waiter bringing our check.

Ryan goes to grab it, but Daniel beats him to it.

“I got it. I said I’d owe you a hundred bucks if you came with a real date, so,” Ryan teases.

I cross my arms. “Oh, and you believe me now?”

“After seeing how jealous you got in that conversation? Yeah.”

I scoff and Daniel and Katharine laugh while Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I’m just playing around, Laur.”

Daniel intervenes, sticking his card in the check holder and placing it at the edge of the table.

“I’ve got it, bro. First meeting and all that; but thank you.”

I look at Daniel. “You don’t have to do that, we all have our own jobs.”

Daniel shrugs. “I know, I just want to.” He places his hand on my thigh again, and leans in to kiss my temple. He whispers against my head. “Let me do this, please?”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Well, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Katharine echoes, smiling.

“My pleasure.”

—-

We’re back in our room, just finished brushing our teeth, when I bring it up again.

“You really didn’t have to pay for dinner you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want him giving you money like me coming here was something that had to be bribed, or bought. I came because I wanted to— the details of which Ryan doesn’t need to know.”

I hum in thought.

“Besides, apparently I’m causing you bouts of jealousy, so really it’s the least I can do,” he teases.

I scoff, “Comes with the territory I guess…. along with apparently fighting off swarms of girls who want to jump your bones.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, folding down the bed covers, “Do people even use that expression anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter, you know what I mean.”

“And yet, you’re the woman in my bed tonight.”

I laugh, folding down the other side of the bed, “How scandalous.”

“Very. Cuddling is serious business, you know.”

Daniel settles into bed, looking at me where I’m still sat on the edge.

“You coming in?”

“Yeah,” I flush, hesitating.

He extends an arm, and I take the invitation, cuddling up against his chest.

“See, this is nice.”

“I never said it wouldn’t be.”

“I know." He pauses, "Try to relax, I promise this weekend is going to go smoothly, if I have any say in it. Not to sound too cocky, but I’m good at my job.”

I laugh at that, before sighing, “I know you are.”

“Good. Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams," I echo, snuggling a little bit closer to him.

—-

When I wake up in the morning, my chest is pressed against Daniel’s shirt, and I feel his fingertips lightly tracing up and down my back.

“Morning,” he hums.

“Good morning,” I answer, shifting slightly. “How long have you been awake?”

Daniel makes a noncommittal noise. “Not sure, didn’t want to risk waking you up to check my phone.”

I look up at him as best I can from my position. “You’ve just been staring at the ceiling this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long. Plus I’m resting, and enjoying our cuddle.”

I turn away blushing and snuggle back into him. “You are very warm; makes me not want to get up.”

“Our alarm hasn’t gone off yet—” He’s cut off by the alarm on his phone doing just that. “Nevermind.”

I make no effort to move from my cozy position.

“Come on,” He urges, pulling my hair lightly. “We have to get up and brush our teeth. I have a feeling there’s some kissing in our future, so.”

“Oh? Is there someone you have your eye on?” I tease.

“Just my fake girlfriend. I think I’ll probably need to demonstrate to her family how in love I am.”

“Demonstrate, huh? I’ll tell the children to shield their eyes.”

I feel Daniel’s laugh rumble through his chest, and I grin.

“Come on, we have to get ready and we have to make a good impression!”

I groan, rolling off and away from him. “I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I don’t have to turn around to know he’s smirking.

Daniel showers first so I can use the bathroom to style my hair and do my makeup once I’m done with mine.

When I’m done, I find Daniel suited and sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. I walk up to him, standing in between his legs, and he looks up at me, taking in my appearance.

“You look beautiful.”

I reach my hand up to smooth his collar. “And you look very handsome; it might be a hard sell for anyone to believe you’re here with me,” I joke.

He shakes his head, smiling softly. He reaches up to take my hand, pulling my wrist up to his lips where he leaves a gentle kiss.

“I don’t think anyone will have any trouble believing that, actually.”

My heart stutters in my chest, and I swallow.

“Are you ready to meet everyone?”

“I am. Are you nervous?”

I look at him for a minute and really think about it.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “With you, I’m not nervous.”

He smiles. “Good; let’s get going.”

—

As we exit the hotel, we take a right before descending down the stairs to the beach ceremony hand in hand. The sun feels warm on our skin, but the soft breeze keeps it from feeling overbearing. I can feel some family members’ eyes on me as I smile and wave with my free hand, sure I’ll have plenty of time to talk to them after. We pick our seats and I look up at Daniel, who is already smiling down at me. I smile back as he places our clasped hands in my lap, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over my skin.

“It’s a beautiful day to get married,” he states, looking around.

I hum in agreement, wrapping my free hand around his bicep.

“I always wondered about summer weddings— I’d worry that I’d sweat off all my makeup if I was the bride.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I assume most grooms are sweating buckets before they even reach the reception.”

My eyes wander down to where he has the first few buttons of his shirt undone to accommodate the heat.

“My eyes are up here.”

My eyes flash back up to his, and he smirks. I shake my head and try not to blush at getting caught. He leans down to kiss my temple.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he murmurs against my hair, squeezing my hand.

I turn to him and raise my eyebrow. “Diving right in are we?”

He shrugs and diverts his attention back to the altar.

“Ryan looks so much older in his tux.”

I look to where Ryan stands next to Nick, Rachel’s soon-to-be husband, as one of the groomsmen.

“Sometimes I forget he’s only 18, but then he’s still a baby to me in some ways.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Just imagine, one day we’ll be sitting at his wedding.”

“I can’t even think about that— though, to be fair, he may beat me to getting married. He and Katharine have been dating since they were 13.”

He lets out a low whistle. “True high school sweethearts. Do you think they’ll stay together through college?”

I sigh, looking over at Katharine a few rows ahead with my Aunt Judith. “I hope so, I think they’re a good fit. She’s already part of the family.”

It’s quiet for a moment before something hits me.

“You said we’ll be sitting at Ryan’s wedding.” I tug on Daniel’s arm. “Plan on sticking around?”

“Well, I—” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, not sure of the right response.

I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek before pulling back just enough to whisper, “You know, you’re really cute when you blush.”

He turns to me before I can pull away entirely, placing a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me blinking up at him.

He smirks. “Touché.”

———

There’s something to be said for attending a wedding with someone.

I’m not sure if I’m emotional because it’s Rachel, my cousin who I’ve grown up with, or the fact that when something particularly romantic happens, I look at Daniel, who will smile and squeeze my hand in solidarity.

We’re both a little teary eyed by the time the ceremony ends. I reach my free hand up to wipe a stray tear from his face. He laughs, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m feeling it too. Easy to feel a little sappy on a day like today.”

“Mmm. Really sets the mood for the start of our relationship.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly.

“Speaking of…” I trail off, eyeing a few family members approaching over his shoulder.

“Get ready, because introductions start now.”

—-

The members of my family that are introduced seem to welcome Daniel with no hesitations— and far fewer questions than I anticipated. He handles them all smoothly and I’m thankful we discussed some things beforehand. Eventually, we part ways, excusing ourselves with promises to catch up more later.

We don’t get too far before a little girl runs up to us. She can’t be older than 4 or 5.

“Hi,” she giggles. “I’m Marnie.”

Daniel and I share a smile, and I bend down a bit. “Hi Marnie, I’m Lauren, and this is Daniel.” He waves. “Are you here for the wedding too?”

She nods bashfully. “Nick kissed her! Now he’s a husband.”

Daniel laughs. “He is.”

“How do you know Nick?” I ask.

“He’s my cousin,” she says, kicking some sand with her sandals.

“Ahh, the girl he kissed is my cousin Rachel. Now she’s a wife!” I exclaim.

She looks at me curiously. “Is a wife like a mom?”

Before I can answer, we hear someone call her name, and we look up to see a couple around our age standing on the patio about 10 feet away.

“Is that your mom and dad?” Daniel asks.

“Yeah, I gotta go— see you later!”

She dashes off, and we wave at the couple who wave back, calling out an apology.

“It’s fine— she’s super cute!” I smile.

We watch as they head back toward the hotel, and presumably the reception.

We walk along the stone wall lining the patio, watching from a distance as bridal party photos are taken.

I look at him. “Should we take our own photo to celebrate the occasion, and how nice we look?”

Daniel laughs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sure.”

He bends down so we can take a selfie, before shaking his head.

“Wait.” He sits on the wall, and pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap. I try to mask my blush as he looks at the phone screen. “Better. More natural angle.”

We take one selfie smiling and another with silly faces.

“Do you two want me to take a photo for you?” A woman passing by asks.

I hesitate, but Daniel’s already handing over his phone. “That would be great, thanks.”

We stay seated with his arm around my waist. And I turn to lean into him, putting my hand on his chest.

We grin and the woman takes a photo.

“Boooo, boring,” Ryan heckles, walking up behind the woman out of nowhere. “Give us something good.”

I roll my eyes, and feel Daniel chuckle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking formal photos?” I query.

“I finished.” He shrugs, taking the camera from the woman, who excuses herself. “Now give me something good.”

“Alright Ryan, since you asked so nicely,” Daniel drawls. I feel his hand on my neck tilting my head up. “Give the man what he wants.” He smirks, eyes sparkling, leaning in to kiss me.

I can’t help but grin into the kiss as I hear Ryan quickly change his tune. “Okay gross, this is excessive. I got it, you can stop.”

Eventually we pull away, and I turn to Ryan innocently. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I’m starting to regret pushing the whole plus one agenda.” He frowns, handing Daniel back his phone.

“No you aren’t,” I tease.

“I’m going to go find my girlfriend,” he rebuts, stalking off.

Daniel shakes his head. “He’s funny.” Lowering his voice, he says into my ear, “One kiss down, many to go.”

I shove him playfully and slide off his lap, turning back towards the hotel to hide my blush. “If any of those pictures came out good, send them to me, please.”

“Okay, but wait.” He stands and pulls my elbow gently, and as I turn back to him his lips meet mine.

“What was that for?” I ask as we finally pull away.

“Just making sure we found our rhythm.” He shrugs. “Besides, as your boyfriend, I technically don’t need a reason.”

I bite my lip. “Is that so?”

He looks at me innocently. “It goes both ways, you know, these lips are yours for the day.”

I bark a laugh. “That sounds so weird, but, okay, noted.”

He grins, lacing our fingers together and pulling me back toward the hotel and the reception.

—-

Inside the reception, each table seats 6; we’re seated at one of the family tables with Ryan, Katharine, and my Aunt Judith. Aunt Judith is my late grandmother’s sister. She has a sharp tongue and rarely minces words when she speaks, a trait that suited her long career as a lawyer in the city. She’s one of the family members who I’ve been most nervous for Daniel to meet, as I know she’ll be critical and her eagle eye will be looking for weaknesses between us. I’ve seen her do it to Rachel’s boyfriends over the years, and even to Katharine when she and Ryan started dating.

“So, Daniel…” Aunt Judith begins. “Ryan here tells me you had… concerns, about Lauren telling us about you.”

Here comes the interrogation. I glare at Ryan, who shrugs, before looking at Daniel who appears unusually calm.

“Not concerns, really,” he starts, “We were friends for a long time, as you know, and I think we were both just nervous—“ he looks at me, “and trying to take our time in figuring out the transition into being together romantically.”

I nod, “And it was only like a month before I told Ryan. You guys know I tell you everything.”

Aunt Judith watches as the others laugh knowingly, and Daniel grins at me.

“Are you planning to keep your relationship private from the press?” She pushes.

“Well,” Ryan interjects, “At the airport they were holding hands, even when Katharine approached him pretending to be a fangirl.”

I roll my eyes, “That was so unnecessary, you guys. Daniel and I both like our privacy so I wouldn’t say we’re hiding it, but we aren’t flaunting it all over either.”

“I’m definitely not ashamed or trying to hide Lauren, if that’s what you mean.” Daniel jests lightly.

“I should hope not,” she says, looking at him over her glass, as she takes a sip.

Katherine turns to Daniel, “What is it about Lauren that drew you in?”

Ryan snorts, “Yeah, how’d she escape the friendzone?”

I put a hand over my face, embarrassed, which Aunt Judith seems to interpret to mean something else entirely.

“Please tell me you did nothing scandalous, so help me, Lauren….”

“What,” I look at her, “No, of course not, why would you assume that?”

She shrugs and Daniel intervenes, “It wasn’t something sudden… I always knew she was beautiful, and obviously as we became friends I saw how kind and thoughtful she was. Funny too,” he says smirking at me.

“Hmm,” she says taking a sip from her drink again, but I can tell she’s secretly pleased with his answer.

—-

Once dinner is finished I excuse Daniel and I from the table, so I can introduce him to Rachel, her new husband, Nick, and of course my Auntie Kim.

I feel Daniel’s hand squeeze mine and I turn back to look at him, smiling.

“Getting tired of all these introductions yet?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Such a good sport,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

We wait for the last people currently talking to Rachel and Nick to clear, and when Rachel sees me she squeals.

“Lauren!”

I laugh, “Hi Rach, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” she beams, looking over at Nick briefly.

“And welcome to the family, officially, Nick.”

He grins and motions behind me, “Who’s this guy you’re towing around?”

“Right,” I blush. “Rachel, Nick, this is my boyfriend Daniel.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Daniel greets, sticking out his hand to shake theirs. Neither Nick or Rachel do a great job of hiding their surprise.

“No offense, Laur, but when Ryan told me you were bringing a boyfriend I thought he was messing with us.” Nick interjects.

I force a grin on my face, feeling Daniel’s hand comfortingly move to my back.

“I’m all too real, I’m afraid.” Daniel interjects. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I lean back into him, and watch as Rachel smacks Nick on the arm.

“No, no, we’re very glad you’re real Daniel. Just surprised is all. Don’t mind Nick.”

Auntie Kim approaches saving us from the awkward encounter.

“This must be the infamous Daniel, who has won our Lauren’s heart.”

I blush, as she moves to hug him.

He smirks, “Well, she’s won mine as well.”

“You two are so cute. We are so thrilled you could come today, Daniel.”

“I was too, it is really great to meet you all after hearing this one talk about you all nonstop.”

The group laughs.

“We are very much looking forward to getting to know you better, hopefully this will be the first of many visits.”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

—

At some point much later in the evening, I lose Daniel. He steps away to use the restroom and I get pulled into conversation with a family friend. I keep my eyes peeled for him but somehow I don’t seem to see him anywhere.

I’m standing by the bar waiting for a drink when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Hi, darling.”

My stomach flutters at the pet name.

“Oh hello, I was wondering where you ran off to.”

His arms tighten around my waist. “I was having a riveting conversation with one of your aunts, actually.”

I turn my head to look at him curiously. “Which one?”

“Aunt Judith,” he smirks, waving the bartender over to order a drink of his own.

“Oh boy,” I laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”

Once he places his order he leans down to whisper in my ear, “She wanted to know if we were using protection, and after that, we went over the unexpected costs of raising children.”

I turn around in his arms, horrified. “No! —She didn’t.”

“Oh yes,” he laughs, grinning. “She did.”

“What did you even say?”

He pretended to think. “I told her, diaper prices are definitely outrageous, and I agree, college costs are inflated beyond belief—” I glare at him. “Oh, and that it was very important to me that we practice safe sex, but, if anything ever did happen, I would be there for you every step of the way.”

“Oh God.” I bury my face into his chest, and he laughs, affectionately stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry, that’s mortifying….”

“I’ve been asked weirder things, just being an actor in LA.”

“Still.” I look up at him. “Your answer was very sweet, though.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I’ll always be there for you— fake pregnancies and all.”

We’re staring at each other now, his fingers still running through my hair, his other hand on my lower back. Time seems to slow down and my eyes flicker to his mouth, his words from earlier echoing in my head. It goes both ways. Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up to kiss him, because it feels right.

“You’re the best fake boyfriend, you know that?” I murmur against his mouth.

He pulls me closer to him, brushing his nose against mine. “I might need another kiss to convince me.”

The bartender behind us clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am? Your drinks?”

We break apart, and as our moment ends I try to quell the butterflies in my tummy.

Daniel smiles politely at the bartender, passing me my drink before taking his glass in one hand and my hand in the other.

We make our way back to our now vacant table. He lets go of my hand to pull his chair closer to mine as we sit down, draping his arm over the back of my chair. I lean into him as we sip our drinks, people-watching the other tables and the crowd on the dance floor. I feel his fingers start drawing shapes on my shoulder, causing me to look up at him.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks.

“I am, largely thanks to you. Are you having a good time?”

“I am; everyone has been really welcoming. It’s nice to meet the people you’ve told me about, and hear the stories everyone has to tell me about you. There have been some good ones, I have to say…”

I roll my eyes, smiling. “I’m sure.”

“The only way it could be better would be if they had baby pictures.”

“Listen, I’ll be the first to say I peaked in preschool. I was much cuter then, I peaked—” Daniel laughs. “I’ll get some and show you. You’ll be so disappointed this is how I’ve turned out.”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I bet you were cute but, I couldn’t be disappointed.”

I shake my head, blushing. “Don’t be so sure— you haven’t seen them yet.”

“I am sure…. I’m looking at you right now.”

I start to smile despite myself. “Oooooh, that was smooth, Sharman.”

“No, no, no," he protests, smirking, "it’s easy when you tell the truth.”

“Have you always been this cheesy, or is this a boyfriend exclusive privilege I’ve unlocked?”

“You know—” He’s interrupted as the little girl from earlier runs up to us.

“Hi,” she says bashfully.

I smile, “Hi Marnie,”

She turns to Daniel and taps twice on his knee. “Can I sit?”

Daniel looks at me, and then around the room. Marnie’s parents are nowhere in sight.

“Sure, angel. Where are your mom and dad?”

She shrugs before he lifts her into his lap. The three of us smile at each other as Marnie gets shy. She leans up to whisper in Daniel’s ear, cupping both of her tiny hands around his ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I watch as Daniel’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Not yet,” he answers to whatever she asked, and she giggles before whispering again, and he laughs. “Mhm, I do.”

Marnie pulls back and looks at him with amazement, whispering even more excitedly. This time he pauses before smiling at me, before turning back to her.

“What do you think?” She looks at me quickly before back at him, nodding shyly. He nods along with her, before leaning in and whispering in her head with his hands cupped secretly like hers had been. Marnie is absolutely beaming now. It’s easy to see how smitten she is with him.

Curiosity gets the best of me. “Do I get to know a secret, too?” I ask, teasingly.

She looks unsure before Daniel swoops in playfully. “Nope, these secrets are for me and Marnie only.”

“Darn it.” I sigh dramatically.

The music changes to something Marnie clearly recognizes as her face lights up, as she tugs on Daniel’s sleeve. “Can we dance? Me and you?”

Daniel looks at me. “Will you be okay here?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be watching.”

He puts his drink on the table as I pick mine up to take a sip, watching as her tiny hand fits in his and she drags him out to dance. The two of them are so cute and my heart feels like it’s going to burst.

Ryan slides into Daniel’s seat a minute later.

“You know, if you and Daniel had a daughter, she’d probably look just like Marnie.”

I glance at him, realizing he’s right. Dark brown curls and bright blue eyes, with a toothy smile and a loud laugh.

“Don’t let my ovaries hear you. I’m not having any children until I have two rings on this finger,” I say, waggling my left hand at him.

Ryan laughs and we watch as Daniel is so good with Marnie, letting her swing his arms around and move them to the beat.

“I like him,” Ryan says definitively.

I look at him, surprised. “Wow, I mean I obviously like him too, I just thought you’d be more skeptical.”

“I did too until I saw you guys together. I just…” He looks emotional all of a sudden. “Shit.”

I laugh softly. “It’s okay, Ry, it’s an emotional day.” I rub his shoulder as he pinches his eyes.

I see Daniel glance over, concerned, but I give him a thumbs up. He nods and goes back to spinning Marnie around.

“I just...” I turn back to Ryan as he speaks, giving him my full attention. “I can see that he loves you— really loves you. It’s all I ever wanted for you.”

I feel my heart squish uncomfortably in my chest. I feel guilty that my cousin is so happy for me, so proud and vulnerable over a relationship that’s just for show. I swallow.

“Me too, I— thank you, Ryan. I love you, so much.”

The song changes again into something slow and I watch Marnie shriek, horrified, before running off into the crowd. Daniel looks after her, humored, before looking at me, gesturing with his head that I come join him. Ryan must see it too because he kisses my temple.

“I love you, too. Go get your man; I should find Katharine.”

Like I’m in a trance, I don’t take my eyes off Daniel as I approach. He smiles and reaches his hands out for me, lacing our fingers together.

“May I have this dance?”

“You may, I was getting a little jealous over there.”

He drops one of my hands to wrap it around my waist, and I bring mine around his neck as we begin to sway, staying close together.

He chuckles. “Well, don’t be, I think everyone here knows who I’m going home with.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles softly but doesn’t answer. I feel my eyes flutter shut as he moves closer pressing his lips to mine gently, tenderly. I kiss him back and for a second I swear I feel it— that all-encompassing love Ryan says he sees between us. When we pull apart, he keeps his head dipped down, pressing his cheek to mine for the remainder of the song. I close my eyes and nuzzle into him, letting myself pretend this is real, just for another moment.

Eventually I break our silence.

“Hey, what did Marnie ask you?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, the sound vibrating against my cheek.

“During your super secret whisper time.”

“Oh,” he laughs breathily. “She wanted to know if we were married.”

“Ahhh,” I chuckle. “I see. What else did she want to know?”

He pauses as the song starts to fade out and our swaying slows down. “I don’t know if I can tell you that. Some secrets need to stay secret, after all.”

While it was clearly meant to be a joke, he says it a bit too seriously, so I drop it and smile tightly as we pull apart.

“Okay.”

He tugs my hand playfully. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

I make a face at him. “Well, I guess I’ll never know.”

He laughs. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

—-

A little while later, we’re watching Rachel and Nick leave for their honeymoon as the wedding party begins to disperse.

“I suppose we should say our goodbyes,” I say, tearing my eyes away as their car drives off.

I hug my Auntie Kim goodbye and tell her I’ll see her at Christmas. She fawns over Daniel, telling him to watch over me, and how happy she is to have gotten to meet him. It makes me smile to see how well he gets on with her. It’s hardest to say goodbye to Ryan. I hug him fiercely, and he returns the hug just as vigorously.

“I wish I could take you back with me.”

“I know.”

“We need to FaceTime more.”

“We will.”

When I step back, Ryan and Daniel go to shake hands, and I see Aunt Judith sitting at the bar by herself. I excuse myself as they chat and take the seat next to her.

“Aunt Judith, I’m afraid I leave again tomorrow.”

She turns toward me, swirling the scotch in her glass. She disregards what I’ve said and instead looks past me into the crowd.

“Where’s that man of yours?”

“He’s saying goodbye to Ryan at the moment.”

She hums.

“What?” I ask.

“He’s a looker.”

I chuckle. “So I’ve been told.”

“I think he could be husband material though. Not as dense as men usually are.”

I suppress a smile. “Huh, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” I give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye, walking over to rejoin Daniel who seems to be finishing a serious chat with Ryan as I approach. As I join his side, Ryan shakes his hand one last time before walking away. Daniel glances at me, placing a hand on my back, looking back towards Aunt Judith at the bar.

“Should I go say goodbye to her?”

“I think you’re alright.”

Aunt Judith waves at us, and Daniel waves back.

”Was everything okay with Ryan?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah; just talking.” He shifts, interlacing our hands. “Ready to go back to our room?”

I nod and we head towards the elevators, hands swinging between us. While we wait, I subconsciously start swaying to the soft music playing from the hallway speakers. Daniel glances at me smirking, and I look up at him giggling, “What?”

“Nothing. You want to spin, like Marnie?” He teases, lifting our joined hands. I spin twice before bumping into his chest, giggling more. “Ooops.”

He shakes his head at me as the elevator doors open. He wraps both his arms around me, walking me backward into the elevator and I laugh into his tie. I turn around so we’re both facing the doors as he reaches around me to press the button for our floor. The mirrored doors slide closed and I meet his eyes in the reflection. We’re both grinning.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he taunts, and I stick my tongue out in the reflection. His arms tighten around me and I press backwards into his chest.

—-

Back at the room, we start to get ready for bed. We share the bathroom to brush our teeth and do our nighttime routines, playfully brushing and bumping into each other. I drag my feet, trying to make the evening last as long as possible, trying to stretch out this daydream I’m living in before we have to go home tomorrow.

I get into bed first, lying on my back and watching as Daniel pads across the room to his side of the bed. He shuts off the overhead light as he passes, leaving only the soft blue moonlight from the window covering us.

He climbs into bed next to me but stays propped up on his elbow. I look at him and he begins tracing my face with his other hand. I crinkle my nose at him, and laugh softly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

He gestures behind me to a decorative sign on the wall.

I turn my head to look at it. “I can’t read that without my contacts.”

His fingers trace over my lips, and I hold my breath at the intimate gesture.

His voice drops even softer. “It says always kiss me goodnight. So I’m waiting.”

I look back at him, expecting him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t; his eyes are sincere. I run the arm closest to him up behind his neck, catching my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He takes the hint, letting my touch guide him as he leans down and kisses me.

The kiss is sleepy, soft, lips tenderly pressed together, moving slowly against each other. It ends with a few gentle kisses that drift from my mouth to my cheek, up to my forehead. His gaze is already fixed on me when my eyes flutter back open.

I start to think about how final that kiss felt, how this is the end of our weekend of pretend; how it doesn’t make any sense that we’re kissing when no one’s here to see us, but maybe we’re both lonely and already missing the comfort, the closeness of this façade. I run my hand up from the nape of his neck to scratch gently at his scalp and his eyes flutter shut, finally breaking our eye contact.

“That feels nice,” he whispers. Wordlessly, we shift so his head is on my chest, his arm around my waist, my nails still soothingly sifting through his hair, quietly lulling him to sleep.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17

[egcdeath]

a date with destiny

pairing: ransom drysdale x reader

word count: 1.9k

summary: fate brings you to a... questionable man more than a few times. 

warnings: lots of fluff, enemies/strangers to lovers, kind of cringe

a/n:  i swear my new thing is poorly writing every played out fanfic trope on the planet, i'm so sorry guys. maybe hallmark can hire me to write a few movies for them

You definitely could’ve avoided this situation if you didn’t wait for the weekend before Christmas to go shopping for your family’s presents.

You had no idea why your time management had to be so bad, but in the midst of working way too many hours in an effort to get promoted, you had completely forgotten about the fact that Christmas was literally right around the corner. And to make it worse, you had a flight tomorrow that you’d also forgotten about.

You sulked to yourself while walking around Nordstrom, waiting for inspiration to strike you for a semi-decent gift for your mother. The whole world seemed to be out that day, and you watched a plethora of shoppers pass you by, with their sour faces and unruly children. After eventually deciding on a black winter sweater for your mom, you went on your way to the candle section, knowing exactly the brand and scent that your sister would love.

This candle was the definition of a non-negotiable for you, and had been the reason you came to a Nordstrom in the first place, and when you found it sitting on a shelf by itself in all of its glory, you had simply become transfixed.

As you walked toward the candle, you didn’t notice that another customer was going for it as well, leading both of your hands to land on the candle, the absurdity of the situation making you blush. This was just your luck.

“Oh, this is awkward,” you played off the encounter, then attempted to subtly pull the candle your way, and away from the man.

“Yeah, it kinda is.” The man whose hand was also placed on the candle said shortly, before attempting to pull the candle his way.

“Hey man, I’m kinda on a tight schedule, and I really need to get this like… right now. I have a flight in like.. An hour,” you exaggerated.

“That’s too bad, ‘cause I really need this candle too.”

You took a deep breath, only you would find yourself in this kind of situation. “To be fair, I definitely saw this candle first. I’m its rightful buyer,” You attempted.

“Mmm, I definitely had my eyes on it first, so with your logic, I deserve this candle.” The man narrowed his baby blue eyes, and put a hand on his hip.

“Oh my god,” you groaned, hoping that maybe if you acted dramatic enough, he’d leave you and your candle alone.

“Sweetheart, can you even afford this kind of thing? I’m sure your friends or family, or whoever the fuck you’re getting this for, would rather you not go into debt over a candle. Just let me have it,” he responded cooly, as if he hadn’t just called you poor to your face.

You looked at him with an open-mouthed expression, completely shocked at the nerve this man had. “Fuck you, you asshole!” You attempted to yank the candle out from his grip, and you could begin to tell that the man’s resolve was beginning to fall.

“Fine. Take the damn candle. But maybe you could give me a little gift in exchange, and go out with me sometime,” he offered, slipping his now free hand into the pocket of his tan peacoat.

You were honestly shocked by this whole exchange. How did he go from insulting you and calling you poor, to asking you on a date? Men are so weird, you thought to yourself. He really isn’t that bad looking, you also considered. “Eat shit, guy,” you told him before flipping him off, and walking away.

-----

Imagine your surprise when you saw the same man from the store sitting in a local Massachusetts restaurant, with whom you assumed were his family. With your sister sitting across from you, you couldn’t help but be gossipy and point him out.

You scoffed and leaned over to your sister once you saw him, “See that guy over there?” You whispered to her, gesturing your head in his general direction.

“Which one?” she asked. “There are like five guys. Are you talking about the dude with the goatee? That old dude with the grey hair? Y/N! I didn’t know you were a grave robber!” she giggled and poked your side while you rolled your eyes, “Or, are you talking about that sexy beast in the white sweater?”

“The se- the dude in the sweater-”

“Oh yeah, he’s pretty hot. You should go talk to him,” she began to scoot out of her seat.

“No, you idiot!” You whisper shouted to her. “That guy basically attacked me in the store the other day. And then, he had the nerve to ask me out on a date!”

He must’ve felt the two of you’s stare, as he turned around and gave you a brief surprised look, then a twisted smirk.

“Oh my god, Bea, act natural,” You whispered before turning your head so fast that you nearly gave yourself whiplash.

You brought a hand up to your face and rubbed your browline in a fit of embarrassment. You looked down, then began to shovel pasta into your mouth at an ungodly fast rate.

“Oh come on, Y/N, he’s cute. What did he say to you that was so bad that you turned down his hot ass?” She asked, glancing back over at the man who was still occasionally looking over at your table.

“It’s kinda a long story. I’ll tell you later,” you mumbled, trying to ignore the heat steadily growing on your cheeks.

Beatrice shrugged, and a waiter approached your table.

“Ma’am, the man over there wanted me to give this to you,” he said before awkwardly placing a glass of white wine in front of you, along with a ripped napkin with a note and number.

We started off on the wrong foot, give me a call sometime?

Ransom

XXX-XXX-XXXX

-----

You looked at the note for so long, that it would’ve been better off being tattooed on the back of your eyelids.

“Just text him, Y/N,” your sister told you, her sentence a bit muffled by the toothbrush dangling from her mouth.

“He really seems like a dick,” you groaned, before rolling onto your back and throwing an arm over your eyes. Your sister rinsed out her mouth in the ensuite before returning with some advice.

“Well, he’s hot. Maybe you can bring him as a date to the Holiday party or something,” she stated before sitting down on the foot of your bed. “What’s the worst that could happen, Y/N? If he hurts your feelings, you can throw a hot drink at him and walk away. At best, you get a hot piece of ass to be your boyfriend.” she squeezed your calf reassuringly.

“Ugh, fine,” you huffed. “I’ll text him tomorrow.”

“That’s my girl!” Beatrice cheered, then placed a kiss on your forehead. “‘Night, Y/N,”

“Goodnight,” you mumbled before attempting to fall asleep.

-----

The funny thing about you, is that you were a master procrastinator. So after a day and a half, you’d put Ransom’s number into your phone, but had contemplated so many different opening texts, that you’d just completely given up. Besides, you had your parents’ holiday party to be attending and to be caring about.

You did some final touch ups of your makeup, before heading downstairs, and watching guests arrive from a safe spot in the kitchen.

Sometime after talking to about seven of your childhood friends, you felt a large hand press against the satin material of your short, red, tie-waisted dress.

“No way, girl I see everywhere?” The man who you know knew was Ransom, asked.

“It’s Y/N. Hi, Ransom,” you bit the inside of your cheek to hold back your laugh at the absurdity of it all, the fact that he was standing in your parents’ home, the fact that he was literally everywhere you went, and because you’d never in your life been called ‘The girl I see everywhere.’

“Why didn’t you ever call me? I mean, not even a text? Also, why are you following me everywhere?” He inquired, moving to stand in front of you.

“Well, I uh.. I forgot. Sorry, I’m a super busy woman. And I also live here... sometimes.. so if anyone is following anyone else, it’s you following me,” you tried to say this confidently, but something about Ransom really threw you off your game.

“You live here? No way. Is this like your family home?” He asked, and you nodded. “So our parents have been friends this whole time, and we had no idea.” He gestured to a doorway, where your mother and his were talking with flutes of champagne in hand.

“This just keeps getting weirder and weirder,” you said quietly, mostly to yourself.

“Maybe, this is just fate. We’re meant to be together, and that’s why we keep seeing each other everywhere,” you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head when he said that to you, genuinely confused at why those words would come out of his mouth. “Oh, lighten up. I’m just kidding,” he said with a bemused smile.

“You have a weird sense of humor, Ransom.” You told him plainly, trying to act disinterested, though you were rather endeared. He definitely saw right through you, as he gave you a little grin before he began to speak again.

“So tell me about yourself.”

-----

After a few too many drinks, you were walking down the sidewalk, hand and hand with Ransom as you searched for any sort of restaurant that could be open at that hour.

Finally, you found a quaint and rather empty 24-hour diner with its lights on. The two of you sat down in a booth, and struggled to contain giggles as you sipped from mugs of stale, lukewarm coffee. Why you were giggling, you weren’t completely sure.

“You know what, Ransom, once you get over the asshole-ness, you’re not that bad,” you reached out a hand, and set it on top of Ransom’s, that was idly sitting on the table.

“Wow, thanks,” he chuckled, a dark pink dusting his cheeks.

“Why did we even come here?” You groaned, “No offense, but this coffee tastes like ass,” you whined,

“And how do you know what ass tastes like?” Ransom burst out giggling at this.

“Shut up. Are you twelve?” You pretended to be annoyed with him, before giving in and laughing along with him. “Can you take me home?” You asked with puppy dog eyes.

Apparently, one for the dramatics, Ransom tossed a $50 bill onto the table, then stood up from his seat at the booth to swoop you up in a bridal style.

“Ohhh my god,” you slurred as he carried you out the door, then eventually set you back down on the pavement once he became tired.

-----

While you walked up to your doorstep, Ransom stood on the sidewalk, watching you contentedly. As you got to your door and turned around, he gave you a big, goofy smile and a wave.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Come in with me,” you invited. It was safe to say, Ransom happily obliged.

[snitches-at-dawn]

girl in red || h.g.

request- can you do a wlw for hermione?

a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this! it’s my first wlw and i’m a bit nervous tbh xx

word count- 1.3k

warnings- strong language

i saw hermione granger for the first time and my heart stopped. i remember it was in potions class on my second day at hogwarts- i had transferred in from ilvermorny when i was fourteen.

i almost fell into the dungeons after having lost my way about twelve times from dumbledore’s office where he had sorted me into slytherin- i figured that would be like horned serpent- the house i was in.

i stuttered an apology to the professor with greasy hair- snape his name was i learned later, and sat down next to blaise. our parents were friends and we always met whenever he and his mother visited massachusetts. 

“draco’s looking at you,” blaise muttered under his breathe to me as i pulled out my book, “the boy i told you about last summer when we met.”

“does he know i’m as gay as they come?” i asked laughingly.

“of course not,” blaise scoffed and handed me half his ingredients.

i looked at him with a smile, “you don’t plan on telling him do you?”

it took all of my effort to not laugh at his smirk which clearly said no.

“who’s that girl?” i asked, “in the red tie with those two boys?” i gasped, “is that harry potter?”

“that’s hermione granger,” blaise said with a sour look on his face, “with potter and weasley- they’re in gryffindor. slytherins and gryffindors are mortal enemies.”

“who cares? she’s gorgeous,” i breathed.

blaise looked at me sharply, “(y/n)- no. gryffindors are off limits for slytherins and vice versa. shag whoever the fuck you want, just not one of them. as far as gryffindors are concerned- consider yourself to be on an eternal no nut november.”

“but-”

“no ‘but’s, (y/n),” blaise cut me off, “you can’t.”

so i spent two long years rejecting boys who didn’t understand the concept of ‘not attracted to penis’ and pansy who got very handsy when drunk. i settled for wistful glances at her from afar. 

in my sixth year, i finally got a chance in potions. draco and i had become fast friends since i told him i was gay and we bonded over our love for girls. something was wrong with him today though- he wouldn’t tell me what so i left him huffing and took the only other unoccupied table. to my luck, hermione granger walked in- without her two flunkies for once

she was wearing that red tie again that suited her eyes so much.

“hi,” i heard her voice from behind me, “can i sit here? i don’t know anyone and i really don’t want to sit with the ravenclaws or malfoy.”

“of course you can,” i smiled and moved my bag so she could take the seat next to me.

blaise was glaring daggers across the room at me with warning eyes which i dutifully ignored.

“you haven’t lost your accent yet,” she said softly.

i laughed a bit, elated that she had noticed something about me, “i don’t really want to, to be honest. you guys talk so fast- i’d hate to lose the pace at which i speak for your accent and unfortunately they seem to come hand in hand.”

“i like the way you speak- and it’s quite brave of you to not feel like you have to change to fit in. very gryffindor of you.” she replied.

i blushed bright red and was saved from answering by slughorn and his belly which moved independent of him.

the next time hermione granger spoke to me was in charms class. she silently slid her ink pot towards me when she heard my quill scraping the bottom of my empty pot and she just smiled at me softly and tucked her hair behind her ear. 

i had all the breath knocked out of me- i couldn’t thank her even if i wanted to.

i returned the favour one day in the library about two months after that.

at some point we had sat at the same table in the library to study because all the others were full and this somehow became a regular occurrence. we’d take the table at the far end of the library and just study in silence with heart-racing brushes of hands and stomach-dropping eye catches.

one particularly crowded day, we were joined by some annoying gryffindor boy who clearly had the hots for her. he kept putting his hand on her thigh or playing with her hair. i had to dig my nails into my palms to stop from jabbing my wand up his ass.

why did men have such pathetic gaydars? couldn’t they clearly see she wasn’t straight?

 “mclaggen- i’m not interested. we went for slughorn’s party and it clearly meant more to you than it meant to me. i’m sorry i didn’t clarify that i wanted to go as friends. now please leave me alone,” she snapped when he tried to move his chair closer to her.

his face contorted unattractively, “fine. you aren’t that hot anyways. i’d rather go for ginny weasley anyways. you were a backup.”

hermione laughed, “ginny’s dating harry, so good luck trying to top the captain of the quidditch team when you couldn’t even make keeper.”

he stormed off making sure to bump into the back of her chair on his way out, making her ink pot fall over onto her shirt and tie, soaking her in blue ink. her red tie was royal blue now. i loved her in red.

i slid my ink pot over to her and softly under my breath scoffed, “men.”

she smiled at me thankingly, “tell me about it. they really can’t get a hint.”

i looked at her curiously to see a very knowing expression on her face and i smirked.

“i bet mclaggen wouldn’t even be able to take you on your ideal first date,” i said offhandedly.

“what do you think it would be?” she asked with her chin in her hand.

she was putting on a confident front. it was obvious that she was nervous and had no idea how i would respond. her voice was soft and manner was unsure- but there was a challenging edge to her tone. i looked back down to my work and continued writing while saying nonchalantly, “coffee and a bookstore. if i was taking you on a date, i’d take you to tomes and scrolls and watch you browse for as long as you want. i know you’d never let me pay for you so i’d make sure to note the names of the sequels of the books you’d buy so i can gift them to you later.”

i looked at her out of the corner of my eyes- her mouth was slightly agape as she heard me talk.

“once you were done there, we’d go to the three broomsticks- i’m not sure if you’d like the vibe at madam puddifoots- and we’d have coffee and hot chocolate until sunset. then i’d take you to the black lake and we’d just sit and talk till it was dark. your eyes...” i sighed, “they gleam in the sunset and they look like they’re on fire in the most gorgeous way. as if they were the only light in a dark room. finally, i’d drop you to gryffindor tower and kiss you goodnight and i’d have to tear myself away from you because i just know it’ll have been the best day of my life.”

i finally locked eyes with her and took a rattling breath. 

“how did you-” she stammered at me.

“i’ve crushed on you since i came to hogwarts, hermione. of course everyone told me to stay away from you because of our houses and well, you’re you. i want to take you out and love you and be perfect for you. let me-”

“okay.” she breathed, interrupting me.

“what?”

“okay.” she said again more confidently this time.

i grinned and blushed bright red.

we both turned to our work silently and studied together for i can’t even remember how long. finally when the library was almost empty, she got up, packed her stuff away and made to leave.

“hey hermione!” i called.

she looked back at me questioningly.

“wear red- it suits you.”

[hettiesworld]

Name of fic: I Recommend a Daddy

Pairing: Sugar daddy!Chris x OFC (Addison)

Plot summary: When Addison runs out of money and is about to lose her house, her friends Auora and Sydney recommend to her a sugar daddy. Of course, there is one thing that is different to the other sugar daddy companies; there is a romantic relationship available.

Warnings: Foul language, sexual themes.

Author’s note: This is part of @donutloverxo Sugary 4k Challenge. Of course, it is not part of my Chris x Addison series fic, “Best Thing I Ever Had”, just to be clear. My OCs are not famous, neither are the celebrities in this.

Word count: 1641 words.

“Rory! Sydney! Need your help quick!” Addison called out to her friends whilst running from her spare bedroom to her own, her handbag in one hand and her purse in the other.

“What is it Addy?” Sydney asked her, trying to braid Aurora’s hair.

“I have no money! I am gonna lose my house --” She started to freak out, breathing heavily. Just like the talkative person that she was. Until Auora stood up from her sitting position.

She placed her hands on Addison’s shoulders.

“Addy. Calm down, it’s okay, just do what we did. Get a sugar daddy.” “A sugar daddy?” “Yeah.” Sydney added on, also standing up, phone in hand. “Have a look. This is my sugar daddy.”

The picture on Sydney’s phone was of a 50 year old man. She could tell by the wrinkles on his face. Addison cringed at how old he was.

“And this is mine.” Aurora beamed as she picked up her phone, showing Addison her one. He looked, at least, 30-something years old.

“How old is he?” She asked Auora. “51. And he is Syd’s brother!” Aurora exclaimed. “What? How is he one? I have met him loads of time and it looked like… no offence, but he looked like he didn’t have a lot of money.” Addison explained.

“Meh. Something about a relative having a lot of money and I didn’t get anything. So I got Jeremy to help me.” Sydney replied. “But I don’t mind if my brother didn’t help me, I got to meet --” “--Yes, you got to meet Jeremy, we know. But that doesn’t mean you get to kiss him or something…” Addison interrupted Sydney.

She out her handbag on the bedside table and sighed, collapsing onto the comfortable water bed.

“Actually…”

Addison sat up and was shocked at what Auora was going to say.

“Wait… you’re in a relationship with them?” Addison exclaimed, putting on a confused face.

Both Sydney and Auora shrugged their shoulders, basically saying that they were.

“It’s kinda complicated. It’s a polyamorous relationship. He can date other girls. That’s the business of the sugar daddy company they are part of.” Sydney explained.

Addison thought to herself, ‘Does she need a sugar daddy? She was losing her house and she didn’t have a lot of money…’ Sydney already had Addison’s laptop up, with the sugar daddy website on it, flashing in her blue eyes.

“Go on. Pick one!” Sydney encouraged, placing the laptop in her lap.

Addison sighed and looked over the website. She repeatedly denied every single one she looked at until she found a 39-year old man picture on there. Let’s just say, Addison was definitely interested in him. His name was Chris and he was from Boston, Massachusetts. 

“Ooh… He looks interesting and hot! Go on, message him!” Aurora said to her, instantly clicking on the messaging app within the website. “Rory! Why did you do that?” Addison condemned Aurora. “Look! He messaged you!” Sydney added.

Mr. Evans: Hello Addison. Are you interested in my offer of being your sugar daddy?

“Reply Addy, reply!” Sydney and Auora both exclaimed at her.

“Okay, okay. Just leave me alone. Let me message him.”

Addison: Hello, Mr Evans. I guess I am interested in your offer. Mr. Evans: Please call me Chris. Now, tell me. Why are you coming to this website? Addison: I am going to lose my job and my friends suggested this website. It could help me with my financial problems. Mr. Evans: I will gladly help with your money issues. We should meet up, but if you’re living far away, we should meet via webcam. Addison: I would like that.  Mr. Evans: Just give me your Skype details and I will contact you soon.

Sydney and Auora screamed with glee as Chris accepted the offer. Addison sighed at them before giving Chris her details.

“Now we wait.”

It was a few days afterwards and Addison was alone, in her bedroom. She was waiting for Chris to call her via Skype. Then, it happened.

“Hello?”

Addison looked up from her phone, as she was playing Candy Crush Saga.

 “Oh my… I am so sorry! I didn’t know you called me!” She yelped, making Chris laugh from the call.

“It’s alright. I’m guessing you’re Addison then?” He asked her.

“Yep. Sorry I was playing Candy Crush. And please, call me Addy. My friends call me that.” “Got it. What level are you on?” Questioned Chris, titling his head and then sipping a beer. “I’m on… level 182.” “That is cool. I’m on level 543.” “What? How?!” “Practice.”

They both laughed.

“Anyways… You have financial problems?” He then asked her, having a notebook and pen in his hands. “Yeah I do. A few days ago, I had no money in my bank account. I’m getting evicted soon cause I can’t pay my rent…” Addison rambled on as Chris nodded understandably, writing down what she was saying. “I am so sorry. Well, if you accept my offer, then you will be able to live at my place, accompanied with me and my dog, I will be able to pay everything off. All you need to do is give me company. Do some chores around the house, that sort of stuff.” He explained.

Addison thought for a while.

“I do need money. Okay, I accept.” “Great! You can start in 2 days. Just come to my address in Massachusetts and we will do the contract and important stuff. Get packed and I’ll see you then, okay?” “Okay! Thank you so much Chris!” She hung up.

2 days later, she flew from London to Boston, Massachusetts in the USA.

It was a city of wide avenues and small places to sit and eat, to relax as folk went about their day. There were the sky towers in the centre, what was once thousands of homes now took up less ground space than an old shopping mall. The rest was parks and wild spaces, a chance to walk among nature or enjoy the trails on bicycles or horseback. Yet perhaps Addison’s favourite thing was the river that flowed through the centre, crossing the bridges, pausing just to look at the view I saw every day and loved all the more.

She arrived outside a white-ish house, just outside the city.

There stood a tall man, about 6’ 0”, with short brown hair and bright blue eyes. He was wearing a Hawaiian shirt, 2 buttons undone. He also wore brown shorts and white sneakers. “Addy! You came!” Chris smiled and welcomed her with open arms. She stood out of the fancy car. She was wearing a pretty flowery dress with matching blue shoes with wedged heels. Bright red sunglasses, her blonde hair flowing in the cool wind. In her hand, a beautiful leather handbag.

Addison pranced over to Chris, trying not to fall over in her shoes.

“Chris! It is a pleasure to meet you.” Her London accent was clear as day as she gave him the usual posh greeting; an air kiss on each cheek. “You too. How was your flight?” He asked her, being a true gentleman and bowing, kissing the back of her hand. “It was luxurious!” Addison smiled at him, blushing at the gesture he gave her. “Please! Let me give you a tour!”

The house Chris lived in looked quite expensive. She was surprised that he had a drawing-room (or a living room to you guys). The drawing room had a snug and huggy feel to it. The dining room, which was next to it,  was Chris’s in-home cafe, one where all the chefs and wait staff cooked for a living.

Upstairs, the bedroom she was staying in was just tidy enough to show that she cared about the space and just messy enough to show that she was able to let her creativity roam free. It was her goldilocks zone, perfect for how she was, especially for an inspiring storyteller like her. The en-suite next to it was a place of washing, of nurturing our sanity with the sensation of warm water and aromatic soaps. For the body must feel loved and cared for, for then it feeds back these messages to the brain and begins to set up a positive cycle of wellness.

After the tour, Chris let his personal servant takes Addison’s luggage to her bedroom as they stood in the massive hallway.

“Please make yourself at home. You are staying here. Any questions?” He asked her. “No. Not that I can think of.” “Good. Let’s meet in the drawing-room to discuss the contract.”

They both walked into the drawing-room and sat next to each other, with a big pile of papers, which is basically the whole contract. It was halfway through the signing.“Okay… time for section 5, which is relationships and sex.” Addison choked as he said that. “S-sex?” She faltered, coughing as her drink went the wrong way down her throat.

“Yes… you okay?” Chris helped her by patting her back. Apparently, that doesn’t help at all but Chris didn’t know that then.

She hummed in response as she put down her drink, leaning back as if it never happened.

“You alright now?” “Yep. Carry on.” “Okay… Now, are you fine with us being in a polyamorous relationship or do you want a ‘just friends’ relationship?” Chris asked, reading off the paper. Addison pondered to herself.

“Can I think upon it? I don’t want to be in a relationship without any romantic interest in each other…” She mumbled. “Yeah, of course. It would be cool to go on a date to see if we do have a spark.” He suggested, placing the contract down back onto the table. “I like that idea.” Addison smiled at him, blushing.

[beca-mitchell]

religion's in your lips (even if it's a false god) (1/1)

Summary: Beca still wants Chloe in whatever way she can get her, even at her own detriment. Rated M/E for sex.

This is for @asimplefavors in thanks for her donation and participation in @ppfandomdrive. This is part of the now i see daylight au.

Word count: 4,944

Read below or on AO3.

* * * * *

Age: 19 Location: New York City, NY Month: December

* * * * *

 Not that Beca’s counting, but this is the fourth month since her break-up with Chloe and the first time since meeting Chloe at five years old that she’s been uncertain about going into the new year without her best friend by her side.

It’s weird. It’s uncertain.

But most of all, it feels like she’s never really going to get over that break-up—her first break-up ever—anytime soon.

It stings, months later, even though Beca knows that Chloe had her reasons for wanting to go their separate ways; even though Beca knows now that she and Chloe hadn’t been working for a while; even though there had been problems on both ends.

It isn’t worth analyzing, not now to Beca at least. The short story is simple enough, rife with enough heartache: it had been too much too fast and they hadn’t been ready to handle it enough.

Still, years of friendship with Chloe has made Beca somewhat of an optimist (a bad one regardless), so she kind of keeps hoping for some kind of refrain to their story, not a coda. The distance between them now feels oppressive—jarring in ways that Beca could have never imagined—even if Beca knows with every fiber of her being that Chloe is closer to her than ever before (physically at least) since they’re both likely in the same city.

Chloe had adapted easily to her transfer to Columbia from Barden, as Beca had expected. They had barely exchanged texts, just simple greetings and congratulatory messages from time to time—as often as they could within the span of the four months they had officially been broken up. Within that time, however, Beca felt more and more desperate to stay connected to Chloe despite everything. It had taken Beca everything to not mention offhandedly that she knew Chloe had started lowkey seeing somebody (or at least sleeping with somebody—though Beca isn’t sure which is the more comforting thought) around the end of October or early November.

...not that Beca had been keeping track.

Or, rather, more accurately put, she doesn’t want to keep track. It just seems like she’s not very good at getting her way when it comes to Chloe Beale.

  * * * * *

 It wasn’t like Beca necessarily had other plans for the New Year. A lackluster collection of messages sit on her phone from her father, her mother, and even her step-siblings, but none of them really invigorated her into wanting to spend time with any of them (and if she’s being painfully honest with herself, she’s almost certain that they’re not wholly interested in spending that much time with her either). Even her increasingly growing circle of friends in Los Angeles didn’t really feel like the right group of people to spend the new year with.

But, even with that on Beca’s mind, all of this had been Theo’s idea. Beca had begrudgingly agreed because she had kind of grown tired of being cooped up in Los Angeles where she would have been happy to spend some quality time in the studio. With the success of her EP and her first full-length album being well on its way, Theo had thought it a good idea to make their rounds to “friends and family” of the Republic Records roster.

It was surreal to say the least, brushing shoulders with people that Beca had once admired from the confines of her bedroom all the way back in Massachusetts, simply hoping that she would have her shot. From her bedroom to the record store where she had spent most days flipping through old albums, daydreaming about music and Chloe and simply wishing for time to fly by so she could finally get her life started.

What she would do to go back to that quiet store, to feel Chloe’s arms draped over her shoulders and her playful giggle in her ear in her attempts to distract Beca from work she had no intention of doing anyway.

Now, at a private party hosted by FLETCHER, Beca has to shake herself more than once simply to get out of the headspace she had been in, good thoughts and bad thoughts alike.

This is, after all, her once in a lifetime opportunity.

  * * * * *

 Scratch that. All of that.

She’s staring right at Chloe Beale at a rented-out abandoned warehouse-apartment. Beca would recognize Chloe anywhere. She can’t quite believe her eyes.

Once in a lifetime opportunities indeed.

  * * * * *

 Chloe looks good.

That’s the first thing Beca notices and she kind of hates herself for it, but it can’t be helped. Her hair is longer, maybe a little curlier, and it falls in loose, beautiful waves over her shoulders. Beca tries to assess whether Chloe looks the same otherwise, but she can’t really tell, not with the dim lighting around them. Beca quickly shakes her head at her companion as she rises from her seat in the corner and darts up to quickly greet Chloe before Chloe has a chance to slip away.

With her heart in her throat, the pressure definitely encroaching on her ability to speak, she steps beside Chloe. She tracks her eyes up the side of Chloe’s face for a moment while Chloe has yet to notice her as Beca moves to lean against the same wall Chloe is leaning again.

It takes a moment but Chloe visibly does a double-take when she twists slightly to observe her new wall partner. Beca’s neck heats and she is thankful immediately for the low light.

“Beca?” Chloe exclaims. “Beca! I—holy crap—” Beca dares to make eye contact, feeling her lips twitch into what feels like a smile even though her heart and brain war against each other to process the emotions swirling in her stomach.

Beca opens her mouth to say something—anything, really, at this point—but words fail her momentarily. She swallows, angling her body towards Chloe as well because to do so feels natural, like they gravitate towards each other on instinct. Something beyond either of their control.

“Come with me?” Beca asks. It is then that it really sinks in for her that she is finally standing in front of Chloe who looks equally surprised to see her. Beca really shouldn’t have been surprised at all, not initially at least, because Chloe always had a way of finding her way into the right crowds, but even more than that, she always had a special knack for finding her way into Beca’s life.

“Okay,” Chloe says. At least, Beca thinks she responds. She wants nothing more than to reach back to grab Chloe’s hand or at least look over her shoulder to see if Chloe is following, but she fears that to look back would mean sending Chloe away again.

When Beca finally dares to look back, she is relieved to see that Chloe followed—that perhaps Chloe would always follow Beca in the same way Beca would for her.

“Hi,” Chloe says, when silence passes between them once more in their more secluded corner; their little corner away from prying eyes and keen ears. “You—” she cuts herself off when she notices Beca is in the middle of speaking as well, gesturing at Beca politely.

“Uh, hi,” Beca greets a bit lamely, for some reason now terrified that Chloe has given her the floor to speak. “You’re...here,” she says stiltedly. “In New York. I mean. Because you go to school here now. But you’re here at this…” She looks around before shrugging a shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

Chloe smiles, tucking her hair behind her ears in a gesture that seems rather shy to Beca, but endearing nonetheless. “New Year’s treat to myself,” she says in explanation.

“Ah.” Beca tries not to, she really does, but her eyes track down Chloe’s body immediately, taking in Chloe’s outfit. Simple black jeans and a tank top should have no business looking that good on anybody, but Beca feels her mouth go dry at every last forbidden memory that assaults her system. Briefly, she finds herself jealous, like she ought to scan the dwindling crowd and see whether Chloe came with any friends.

Or any one friend in particular.

She drags her eyes back to Chloe quickly, wrestling with her emotions so she can school her expression appropriately. “Did you come alone?” Beca asks, attempting to inject the right amount of curiosity-sans-jealousy into her tone. Nonchalant. She can do that.

Chloe blushes again and something akin to guilt rises up on her cheeks. It’s a bit of a stretch as Chloe takes her time to respond before finally settling on “Did you? Come alone, I mean.” Her gaze dips past Beca’s shoulder to where Beca had been sitting in her corner, half-heartedly paying attention to the conversation she had been engaging in with her plus-one.

A gaze that meant that perhaps Chloe had been more observant than Beca previously assumed. The thought sends heat through Beca’s body, settling somewhere in her chest and manifesting in a blush across her cheeks.

Chloe is here now. And Chloe is evading her question with a question of her own, which makes all kinds of turmoil swirl through Beca’s stomach.

“I didn’t,” Beca manages to mumble, feeling the oddest sensation of guilt as well. She hadn’t been saving herself for Chloe or anything, which is what she tells herself as she tries to talk herself down. It’s harder to remind herself that Chloe hadn’t necessarily saved herself for her either. “Just...mostly a label thing. I’m here for, um, work.”

It’s all really just too fucking fresh and too fucking devastating, knowing that ‘work’ had been what drove them apart in the first place because they had both naively thought that things wouldn’t have to change between them—that high school would follow them both with ease and transition without any real effort.

Chloe’s tongue comes out to swipe at her lower lip. “I didn’t...either. Not really. But they’re…” Chloe casts a glance over her shoulder. She looks back at Beca, bashful. “It seemed like a good way to kick off the new year, you know?”

“How’s school?” Beca asks. “I know you were…” she swallows thinking of how absent she had been when Chloe had been working on her transfer application. “You were really excited.” It comes out softer than intended and Beca feels the sudden urge to reach out to hold Chloe’s hand.

Chloe smiles at her words. “I love it,” she replies, sounding as passionate as Beca remembers her.

I love you, Beca thinks. "That's good to hear," she says aloud.

  * * * * *

 The end up talking for at least an hour. Socially, it’s probably not either of their best attempts at working the room, but they both appear to revel in the ease with which they are able to sink back into their usual conversational habits.

But, more poignantly, their usual chemistry. It ebbs and flows in waves around them, like a heady song reminiscent of all the memories that Beca had attempted (with no real effort in all honesty) to suppress.

Beca is so painfully reminded of how long it’s been since she last had sex (with Chloe).

“Do you have plans after this?” Beca asks during a lull in their conversation. She warms at the way Chloe’s eyes flash towards her.

“No,” Chloe admits. “But my friends were thinking of dipping anyway.”

“Oh,” Beca mumbles. “Okay.” She tries not to fixate on the fact that Chloe doesn’t seem to plan on leaving with them. Her eyes track across Chloe’s shoulders and collarbone again.

Beca’s obvious ogling doesn’t go unnoticed. Chloe doesn’t look upset by the attention. Instead, she looks pleased.

Maybe too pleased.

It makes Beca want to kiss the smirk right off her lips.

She struggles to think of something to say—anything but the thoughts racing through her mind. She blames the adrenaline from the high of the live performance and the reception to her music. She blames the energy of the crowd around them. She blames Chloe’s proximity to her. She blames the fact that she can see the light sheen of sweat on Chloe’s bared skin.

But Chloe’s smug expression fades eventually and she shrugs. “Do you want to...talk more?” Chloe asks sincerely. “Or are you busy?”

Beca glances around, taking stock of the people in closest proximity to them. She casts a glance around, keeping an eye out for a handler or her manager, but upon seeing that the coast is fairly clear, she nods and grabs Chloe’s wrist. “Come with me. We can go someplace quieter.”

  * * * * *

 It feels like a new verse—or maybe an entirely new song. Not quite deja vu, but Beca isn’t sure what she would prefer.

  * * * * *

 The ride back to Beca’s hotel is the quite possibly the tensest car ride Beca has ever been on. She glances at Chloe non-stop, trying to remember the last time they sat side by side in a car. It had been when Chloe had picked her up at the airport that...that last time.

Beca clenches her hands in her lap.

The hurt still flares up from time to time, but over the past few weeks, it had lessened to nothing but a dull throbbing ache. Nothing to write home about. Nothing to fret over. She had simply been too busy with working on her EP, releasing her single, and then doing promotional work to even think about Chloe for more than a few minutes a day. It was only within those few minutes that she found herself lost in the sad memory of her ex-girlfriend.

But now—now, Chloe is next to her and they finally have a chance to talk. Beca wrings her hands nervously as they round the last street corner before her hotel.

Talking is fine. Beca can talk. Chloe was—is—her best friend. She has nothing to be afraid of. She knows this.

“This is me,” Beca announces unnecessarily as the driver pulls to a stop. “A hotel.”

Chloe giggles at Beca’s unnecessary but familiar awkwardness. “I figured.”

Beca’s throat goes dry. “Well, I mean. Just in case...you didn’t know.” She feels nervous, like she’s about to enter her first day of high school again.

Chloe’s gaze locks onto hers and Beca forgets whatever inane thing she was about to say.

So, talking is a little hard now.

Sue her.

Sue them both.

  * * * * *

 But some things are easy enough to fall back into. Too easy.

Like the way Chloe’s hand reaches for hers in the elevator. How gently and intimately their fingers tangle together.

Like the way Beca’s entire body heats up when she sees exactly how Chloe is looking at her.

Like the way Beca knew exactly what she wanted to happen when she suggested they go someplace quieter to talk.

  * * * * *

 “Nice room,” Chloe comments, trailing a finger along the edge of an ornate dresser by the bed. “They didn’t have any suites available?”

The teasing lilt to Chloe’s voice seems amplified—something dark and hungry in Chloe’s tone—but Beca only notices because every last sensory nerve is alert; every sound reverberates through her with the force of a thousand speakers.

She swallows, taking a step towards Chloe before hesitating when Chloe’s eyes cut up to her own.

The thing that comforts Beca most is the stark vulnerability she sees in Chloe’s eyes—the same that she’s sure must be reflected in her own eyes. She wants to say a million things—wants to ask a hundred jealous questions and more. Between leaving high school and now, a mere year and a bit, she feels like they have aged an entire lifetime. The chasm between them is so palpable, rife with tension and hurt mixed in confusingly with the same chemistry they always enjoyed.

“I don’t need a suite,” Beca finally responds. Though her words are bland, she can’t help the way her voice rasps out due to the tightness in her throat and in her chest. Not for this, she wants to say. I need you.

“Guess not,” Chloe murmurs before she closes the distance between them, pulling Beca in for a searing kiss. It is not quite the kiss that Beca envisioned they’d share upon meeting up again, but she curls her fingers tightly into the front of Chloe’s shirt and holds on tight, unwilling to let go, even for what she’s sure is just a night of nothing but uninhibited passion.

  * * * * *

 “Fuck, Beca,” Chloe moans, tangling her fingers in Beca’s hair to the point of pain. “Right there, yeah, fuck, right there—”

Beca continues to eagerly lick and suck at Chloe’s wet folds, wanting nothing more to bring Chloe to the brink again and again until neither of them can move anymore. She grips Chloe’s thighs, forcing her legs apart further, and continues, uncaring as Chloe’s moans and cries only increase in volume. She doesn’t care if she gets a noise complaint. She’d go as far as to say that a noise complaint is the goal at the moment. She wants to get as many noise complaints as she can. It doesn’t matter as long as she makes Chloe fucking come.

She pushes her tongue past Chloe’s folds, as deep as it can possibly go. Her jaw aches badly but still, she pushes forward. She resists the urge to stop because stopping would mean she would no longer hear the wonderful sounds Chloe makes with each pass of her tongue; with each clumsy stroke of her fingers just where she knows Chloe needs her most. Beca groans at the taste of Chloe all over her mouth and the sounds of Chloe coming apart echoing all over the room.

“I’m going to come,” Chloe moans out. “I’m going to come, fuck—” she comes with a sharp cry, Beca’s name on her lips. Her hips rock up and down as if attempting to dislodge Beca from her, but her hand clamps down hard against the back of Beca’s head to keep her in place. It is an almost unfamiliar, possessive grip. Beca barely remembers when they had been so consumed by passion and lust that emotions barely had the chance to make themselves known. Still, the gesture makes Beca grind down against the bed in reaction, clenching her fingertips against Chloe’s sweat-slicked skin. She steadies herself by grabbing Chloe’s hips in a vice grip, moaning as the taste of Chloe further floods her mouth, wetting her chin slightly. Her own cunt clenches around nothing as she pants, muffling her own cry against Chloe’s thigh, finally receiving the sweetest, but smallest of releases. She kisses Chloe’s damp skin, using her teeth to bluntly nip along the soft warmth of Chloe’s inner thigh in an attempt to calm herself down.

Without waiting for Chloe to say anything else, Beca crawls up her body, using her fingers to stimulate her own clit as she goes. She groans, eyes nearly crossing at the sensation. She’s too sensitive, too far gone, so she rocks her hips greedily down against Chloe’s thigh before letting her fingers slip inside herself. Months since she has felt another person’s touch against her��months since Chloe. Even touching herself didn’t quite feel the same without the knowledge that she had Chloe. “I’m so close,” she pants out. “Please, I want to—”

Chloe nods, still slightly dazed from her orgasm, but she pulls Beca in for a searing kiss, tasting just the faintest remnants of herself along the inside of Beca’s mouth. She moans, arching upwards and spreading her legs to accommodate Beca between them. Her hands move to grab at Beca’s ass, helping her rock slowly against the steady, firm thigh Chloe has between her legs, but it’s not what Beca wants most. Her rocking is hindered by her own hand between her legs, her fingers not quite doing what she wants most. She licks her lips, whimpering at the taste of Chloe still lingering just slightly on her lower lip.

“Let me,” Chloe rasps. She wraps a hand around Beca’s wrist. “Come on,” she urges.

Beca bites her lower lip as she removes her fingers, moaning at the loss. She clumsily tries to slot herself between Chloe’s legs, thrusting her hips down as best as she can.

Chloe’s hands drift to her hips in order to better steady her. “Beca, I can—”

“No. Please,” Beca grits out, cutting Chloe off unexpectedly. “I want to feel you like this.” Her hips stutter in their rhythm, but she quickly grabs one of Chloe’s legs and lifts slightly, shifting her hips in just the right way so that she can feel Chloe’s wet folds and her stiff clit brush against her own nether regions. The sensation, even though it is slight with their haphazard positioning, makes her eyes cross and her stomach coil in pleasure knowing that she gets to experience this with Chloe once more. She gasps out, unable to stop the brief, high-pitched sounds from escaping her. She feels so close to Chloe—so connected to her once more. “Please,” she begs. “Let me, God—” she cries out, connecting fully with Chloe’s center.

She aches, badly. Partly from the discomfort of their positions, but also with how much she wants Chloe like this. Like the past few months—hell, the past year—of emotions have come rushing out to spar for dominance in the tangle of Beca’s bedsheets, no longer as crisp and clean as they had been just that morning.

It is as if Chloe feels that surge of emotion from Beca, like she always had before. Chloe’s hands tighten on her hips as her breathing grows erratic once more. She slowly guides Beca’s movements, keeping a steady, gentle rocking motion until she evidently grows impatient and reaches down to swipe her thumb against Beca’s clit. Beca gasps, hips jolting out of place, which is enough for Chloe to roll them over so she can pin Beca beneath her body and slowly press two fingers inside her. “This is so much better,” Chloe purrs, energy renewed.

Beca could disagree on some levels but she can’t exactly disagree fully, not when Chloe’s fingers feel so fucking good inside her, finally.

Months of not having that sensation of fullness, not just physically despite how fucking good it feels, but also that sensation of emotional connection she had been missing so much.

Months of feeling like she couldn’t breathe, knowing that her jealousy had been welling up inside her, threatening to spill over at any second.

Months of not having Chloe, who always knew exactly how to make her feel amazing.

“I wanted to come on you,” Beca pants out, uncaring that her brain is no longer connected to her mouth. “God, fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for so long.”

Chloe groans. “Later,” she mumbles, leaning down to suck harshly at Beca’s nipple. “I want you like this,” she declares, letting Beca know that the time for negotiation and demands is over. As Chloe’s free hand comes up to cup her breast possessively, Beca briefly wonders how she could possibly want anybody else; she wonders whether Chloe still wants her as much as she still wants Chloe; she wonders if Chloe thinks of her the same way Beca thinks of Chloe, alone in her bed.

Nothing, however, compares to this—the thick, hot air around them, sheets rumpled all around them like a nest for them to lie in until the morning comes. Beca curls her fingers into Chloe’s hair, arching her back with a weak whimper as Chloe’s fingers flex and push inside her with consistency and force.

The sharp sting of Chloe’s teeth against her sensitive skin makes Beca coil and tense once more, this time more distinct than before. She barely recognizes her own voice when she groans, deep and low, as she clenches tight around Chloe’s fingers. “Make me come, please”

“I will,” Chloe promises, increasing the intensity of her thrusts. The bed creaks.

Like a refrain that Beca has longed to hear over and over, she loses herself in the chorus of her own staccato whimpers and grunts, offset only by the echo of Chloe’s breathless sounds. She lets the sensation of being completely possessed by Chloe wrap her up in the pseudo-warmth of being loved once more—the thin blanket of passion and lust that covers them both. She clutches at it—a tightening of her fingers in Chloe’s hair once more and a sharp scratch up Chloe’s back—with some desperation, wanting to both lose herself completely and yet, stay coherent so she can recall every last moment.

“Fuck, don’t stop,” Beca pants out, losing track of the rhythm for the briefest of moments as she scrabbles to hold on to whatever part of Chloe she can reach. Chloe clutches her back in return, pressing closer to her, nearly trapping her arm and hand between their bodies entirely.

“I won’t,” Chloe promises again in a tone that sends a fresh wave of arousal through Beca.

Beca allows herself to shut her eyes.

  * * * * *

 Beca refuses to let up and to her delight, Chloe refuses to as well. She matches Beca one-for-one for everything and before either of them realizes, it is verging close to the early morning.

Sweaty and sticky, Beca moves to grab water from the hotel room’s mini-fridge and tosses a second bottle to Chloe. Chloe takes a long drink before clumsily placing the bottle on the dresser and twisting to face Beca. Chloe’s eyes are dark and wanting, with the mildest hint of exhaustion. Beca’s sure she looks the same—two of them, complete messes. But this is their own little world. At least for the next little while that Beca has Chloe here with her.

Chloe is endlessly patient. She waits while Beca drinks her water. Beca watches her, eyes tracing over the endless, unmarked skin save for a few red scratch marks and blooming hickeys in hidden spots. She wants to do more. She’s not sure where the obsession comes from, but it springs from deep within her chest, like a well that refuses to empty no matter how much Beca draws from it.

A well full of every last repressed thought about Chloe, about their relationship, and about their lives together. Beca knows that this is so unhealthy—that they should talk. But the sex makes everything feel that much more bearable. She can do this with Chloe. They’re both consenting adults. They both have the freedom to decide what they want. Chloe wants this too.

As long as Chloe wants this, she wants Beca. She wants Beca, without a doubt. It clears the insecurities momentarily.

And that’s good enough for Beca.

Beca slowly puts the mostly empty water bottle down on the closest surface. She wants desperately to shower, but she cannot resist crawling back into bed and climbing back on top of Chloe eagerly. No words are needed as their limbs intertwine and their bodies slot together naturally, like they’ve done this a thousand times. Maybe they have, Beca can’t recall. Not when Chloe pulls her in for a messy, passionate kiss, again lacking much of the care and affection their previous kisses used to have.

Beca doesn’t care. Not now, not ever, she thinks. She can do this. All she knows is that her body is somewhat satisfied, but not fully.

She needs to know that Chloe still wants her—that Chloe still desires her in the way that she always did. She is not disappointed when Chloe’s hands immediately fly to her ass, groping at the flesh she finds before slipping to her still-wet pussy. Beca knows how incredibly sore she is going to be in a few hours—perhaps she feels a hint of it already—but she cannot help but rock back onto Chloe’s fingers as she begins to fuck her again.

“Yes,” Chloe whispers. “Fuck yourself, Bec.”

Beca obeys, nodding frantically as she begins a punishing pace. She can only lift her hips so high as to keep Chloe’s fingers steady inside her, but it is Chloe who picks up the pace, who uses her strength to flip them over so she can use her hips as more leverage to drive her fingers deeper and faster.

Chloe was always better at fucking her anyway.

Again, again, Beca’s body cries out.

Her mind and heart remain shockingly quiet on the subject, but Beca wonders how anybody or anything could be displeased by this result. She comes incredibly quick, clenching tight around Chloe’s fingers. For a long moment, Chloe keeps her fingers still, both of them still breathing hard. Beca almost clamps her legs shut around Chloe’s hands, just to keep her there.

Don’t go, she almost says aloud when Chloe finally moves her hand away.

She doesn’t want it to end.

  * * * * *

 When Beca wakes up in the morning (read: only a few short hours later), her duvet is still warm and Chloe’s pillow is still slightly rumpled. The air smells of Chloe and sex. The bed is half empty, save for a small folded note just above where Chloe’s body had been laying mere hours, minutes, seconds before.

Beca does not have to look elsewhere to see that all of Chloe’s things are probably gone. She reaches for the note even though she knows that the foreboding in her heart is her body telling her that she shouldn’t.

thanks for making the start of this year amazing it was wonderful seeing you xx chloe

She hates how much it feels like another ending.

* * * * *

fin.

[lyssismagical]

“I can’t do this without you.” “I’m not ready to say goodbye.” “Please don’t go.” with Parkner and irondad Or “Carry me.” “Have you ever heard of personal space?” also with Parkner and irondad Again, only if you can and want of course! :)

“Carry me”

“Have you ever heard of personal space?”

(just some little fluff)

(thanks to the parkner discord for the sweater idea I thought it was cute lol)

 *

Peter and Harley spent the summer together getting prepared to eventually take over Stark Industries side-by-side. Peter was interned by Tony, and Harley by Pepper, so they had all the skills they needed to become CEO’s the company one day.

It was one of the best summers they’ve ever had.

They’d been dating long-distance for a while, only hanging out for a week or two over the summer or a few days over Christmas Break, but then Tony offered to house Harley in New York and broke the news that he wanted Harley to take over the company too.

Both boys were ecstatic to be living together for two months, even if they spent most of their days on opposite ends of the building.

And in September, they’ll both be going to MIT, living together in an apartment courtesy of Tony.

For Harley, it’s the most exciting thing to be officially moving from Nowhere, Tennessee to Manhattan, and then to Cambridge, Massachusetts. And most excitingly, with Peter.

Harley has barely been able to stop smiling for days now that they’ve officially bought their apartment together.

They’re curled up on the couch, waiting for Tony to get back with their takeout, and Harley’s pretty undeniably happy as he presses yet another kiss to the crown of Peter’s head.

“I never thought I’d be excited to be leaving Queens,” Peter says, voice muffled by Harley’s sweater.

Peter’s curled up inside Harley’s sweater, one he purposefully bought in the biggest size the store offered, big enough that it fits comfily around both of them. Harley can’t see much of Peter besides a few of his curls poking up the neck of the hoodie, but Peter’s warm and he hums contently, shifting to press his cheek against Harley’s chest. His knees knock against Harley’s stomach, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, loving the feeling of Peter pressed against his side.

“I thought I’d end up in Tennessee forever,” Harley admits, rubbing Peter’s back absentmindedly. “I thought I’d end up working at the stupid diner forever and watching Abbie get married to one of those jerks from town.”

“Is she planning to come here too?”

Harley pauses for a moment, smiling as Peter presses a kiss to his collarbone. “I think she wants to go to medical school one day, but she can do whatever she wants. When we take over Stark Industries, I’ll have the money to get her whatever she wants.”

His boyfriend hums in response, fingers curling into Harley’s t-shirt and Harley’s arms instinctively tighten around Peter’s body.

The elevator doors slide open down the hallway and Tony steps out, toting a couple bags of takeout for them.

He laughs when he reaches the living room where Harley’s sprawled out across the couch, Peter tucked beneath his hoodie, barely visible from an outsider’s perspective.

“Have you ever heard of personal space?” Tony teases, setting the food on the table for the boys.

“No,” Peter replies from his hidden spot. Harley laughs, chest rumbling beneath Peter’s head.

Tony rolls his eyes and lifts Harley’s legs to sit on the couch with them. “Get out from under there to eat some food, Pete. I promise, I won’t even tattle to May if you sneak into Harley’s room tonight.”

Peter extracts himself from Harley, shivering at the cold air and smiling at both of them.

FRIDAY puts on one of the TV shows they’ve been watching on their quiet nights like these.

Harley spends the majority of the episodes daydreaming about his future with Peter at his side. He’ll be co-running a multi-billion dollar company in four years. He’s got an apartment with his boyfriend, he’s gotten into his dream school, he’s got everything he’s ever wanted.

“I love you,” Harley murmurs, pressing a kiss to Peter’s temple as the episode starts playing its credits.

Peter smiles, eyes sparkling in the light of the TV, fingers intertwining with Harley’s. “I love you too.”

“Stop being all mushy. It’s making me nauseous,” Tony says, rolling his eyes again. He does that a lot around the teenagers, but they both know Tony adores them.

Peter grins, leaning his head against Harley’s shoulder. “Deal with it, old man.”

With an affronted noise, Tony shuts off the TV, dragging himself to his feet. “Alright, you two, bed time. Get out of here. I don’t want to deal with all your gross lovey-dovey.”

Harley moves to pull away from Peter, but the younger boy’s arms tighten around him.

He looks down to find Peter pulling his puppy-eyed look.

“Carry me?” Peter pouts.

Harley offers a soft smile and lifts his boyfriend into his arms. “You’re the one with the superstrength and I’m the one who has to carry you places.”

Peter giggles and hides his blushing face in Harley’s shoulder.

“Night, boys.”

“Goodnight, Mister Stark,” Peter murmurs as Harley says, “Night, Tony.”

That night they fall asleep in Peter’s bed together, both of them entirely happy for what feels like the first time in a long time. It’s been the best summer and they get to continue living this fantasy life for the coming years.

Taglist: @littlemissagrafina  @spideygirl2003 @romeoandjulietyouwish @c-artara @shadedrose01 @likeaphoenix13 @tonystarkweneedyou {Let me know if you want to be added or removed}

[the-hopeless-haze]

Someone to Know You Too Well (Being Alive Chapter 5)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

Read on Archive

CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of domestic violence & homophobia

It’s easy again between the two of you when you come back from Massachusetts, but it isn’t the same. You’re in a much better mood, and Rafael’s glad you went, especially because you come back with good news about your brother - he should be finishing his GED in the fall.

But just because things are good - it doesn't mean Rafael is calm. On the contrary, that makes him even more nervous. Good things don't have the habit of sticking around.

But for whatever reason, you are.

Spring turns into summer - where did the time go? - and you’re always dragging him to the beach when your schedules permit. You seem to be more in your element there than anywhere else he’s ever seen you, what with the sun causing your skin to glisten with sweat and saltwater, the hot wind blowing your hair, the permanent smile on your face. He learns that your father used to have a summer house in the Cape where you spent your summers until he sold it after the divorce, but your love for the water never faded. And apparently your father’s never did, either, as his new house with his new wife resides on a lake. But the ocean is much more turmoiled than a lake is, and if Rafael were more of a poet, maybe he’d draw some resemblances between you and the ocean, but that’s overwrought. The world didn’t need another hackneyed poem about why his troubled object of affection reminded him of the waves. Clichéd comparisons aside, he can see why you love it so much.

Rafael isn’t as opposed to these dates as one might assume. Maybe it’s his Cuban heritage; in his blood after his ancestors spent so long working and living by the sea on that godforsaken island that betrayed them, but he feels a sort of kinship with the ocean, too. You tease him the first time you see him in shorts and sandals, saying you half-expected him to show up in his three-piece. He didn’t tell you, but he comes to the beach alone quite often, or there’s always yacht parties where he can nurse a glass of scotch, just keeping score between all the married couples there; who cheated on who, what wife wanted nothing more than to divorce her husband, what husband was calling their wife a bitch... Most days, he prefers the precinct for company over the stuffy culture law school brought him into...he swears marriage makes people crazy. It made his mother miserable, his father wrathful.

And maybe one could argue that his mother had an inclination for melancholy or that his father was just a mean-spirited man regardless. But the marriage vows certainly brought out the worst in both of them. An ill-fit, sure, but they’d thought it would work out when they met each other, didn’t they?

Another reason he’s anxious is that the squad is getting closer to figuring it out by the day. Rafael is good at concealing his emotions, he thinks, but it’s difficult to hide anything in a room full of some of the best detectives in New York City. Sometimes he even catches Olivia looking at him differently when he glances discreetly at you - and he’s dreading the day he gets the chewing out he deserves.

And third - you start remembering things he says. It’s almost frightening. Of course.... you had to have a good memory for the spoken word - you couldn’t take notes on everything a witness said. But still.

You remember dishes he orders in restaurants and attempt to recreate them in his kitchen. You bring him coffee, just the way he likes it, on your days off that he’s on, or sometimes you manage to sneak away to bring it to him during your breaks. You know he likes you in red and green and blue, bright, vivid colors that bring out the colors of your eyes and hair, and you make sure to wear them. Sometimes he thinks you’re psychic, or you have some kind of womanly sixth sense; because oftentimes you’ll wear the same color of his tie. One time Carisi even made a comment that the two of you were going to prom together, and you’d swatted him on the arm but smirked at Rafael the way you did; when you knew you had him down cold.

And maybe you did.

But you didn’t know everything about him, yet, how could you? It’d only been four months.

Rafael's hands tremble at the thought of telling you what was on his mind. He needs some liquid courage if he's going to tell you anything. He's had awful conversations with women concerning this topic, and he's prepared for tonight to go wrong, too, you screaming at him with tears running down your cheeks, and then work, oh, work would be a living hell. Maybe he'd transfer to another district. Jesus Christ, he couldn't handle that again, so soon. Maybe it was best to keep quiet. Maybe this is why he shouldn't have been so stupid to date a detective in his district, in a unit he worked closely with. What if this did go wrong? It was hard, being able to see each other outside of work sometimes, and it was hell trying to hide it from the SVU, but god, he'd miss you if you left even if he wasn't entirely ready to commit to you.

But you deserved to know, didn't you?

"Hey, Rafi? You doing alright there?" Your voice cuts in, clear as a bell, the way it always did when he lost himself in thought.

"Yeah, uh, I'm fine," he says, loosening his tie and taking it off. You were cooking again, fish, and it smelled heavenly, and god, he didn't want to lose this but he didn't want to tell you either and by not telling you, he could lose you. Weren't you supposed to know your partner? Did you really know him if you didn't know these things?

"You sure? You look like you're nervous," you say, an edge in your voice. God, did you think... maybe you thought he was going to break up with you. Fuck.

"Yeah. I'm nervous. Okay?" he snaps, but he doesn't mean to. He takes another sip of his scotch.

"Why the hell are you nervous? Afraid of some broccoli?" you joke, but your smile doesn't meet your eyes. He'd scared you. Fuck, he was such an idiot.

"I need to talk to you. Okay?" God, why couldn't he be normal like you and just spit it out?

"Okay. Then talk. But if you want me to leave I'll just get out. I don't need to hear the reasons why," you say, turning back to the food.

"No!" Rafael gets up quickly, hugging you from behind. "No. I don't... that's not what I want to talk about. No. This is going good, better than I thought it would."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Fuck me. I keep talking myself in circles," he mutters under his breath.

You turn around, but he keeps his hands around your waist. You're close, and he pecks your lips. You chuckle. "You're a dork. Just spit it out, Rafi."

"I don't want... I don't want this to turn into a fight."

"I don't either, whatever it is. But I need to turn the fish over or your smoke alarm's gonna go off," you say. “Hang on a minute.”

He grips the counter for support and he hates you so much, it’s rage he’s feeling now, and he has to swallow it down, tell himself this was good for him, this was happening for a reason, and that you were different the men and women that had walked out on him before. Or what about those he’d never felt close enough to tell? That was a longer list.

You finish the fish in a few minutes, tell him the potatoes are going to be a few more in the oven, and you start the broccoli on the stove.

“Okay. Talk to me. I’m listening,” you say, smiling at him, but he can tell you’re still scared, still wondering what he’s going to say.

“I’m bisexual,” he blurts out, and he doesn’t know if it would’ve been better if he beat around the bush.

You’re silent for a few seconds, then you smile at him. “Oh, honey, that was it? I thought it was something bad. Jesus, you scared the hell out of me, Rafi,” you say and hug him tight. He hugs you back, somewhat in awe of your reaction.

“You... you... don't care?"

“Rafael, I'm honestly offended that you think I'd be that prejudiced. Of course it doesn't bother me.” You pull away, still holding onto his arms, looking at him that way you did now, that look that doesn’t feel too different from a punch in the gut. "Why did you think I would be upset?"

Rafael shrugs, still at a loss for words.

“Well... for the record, I’ve hooked up with a woman, you know,” you say, turning back to the broccoli.

“Y-you have?” Well, that was a surprise.

“Yeah. I don’t know if I’d ever date a woman, but... I gave it the college try, had experiences. It was fun. It was a coping mechanism if you think about it too much, but it helped me, I think,” you say, and shrug, turning to your side to better face him as you sauté the broccoli. “I mean...we were friends in college. And she took her time with me, you know...in ways college boys wouldn’t.”

“Mm,” Rafael says, raising his eyebrows suggestively. “Bet she did.”

You blush beet red, laughing nervously. “That’s not what I meant... although, yes... she was thorough. But no. I meant she respected me and didn’t get upset when I wasn't ready to put out, you know? She let me set the pace and she was the first person I’d been with that gave me that. But... anyway... enough about that. I really appreciate that you trust me enough to tell me. Do you feel better?” you ask, looking up at him.

He nods. “Believe it or not, you’re the only woman that hasn’t flipped out on me when I said this.”

“Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. No one should feel that way about that.” You lean up, kissing his cheek.

Yelina was the first woman he told, and she didn’t take it well. Immediately, she flew off the handle, accusing him of wanting to leave her for a man - but there was no man. It was just something he'd come to terms with after fighting with himself for so long, and he wanted her to know because he thought he loved her. But he backtracked for her, he pled with her, they both cried, and their hour-long phone conversation ended with Rafael saying that he was just confused, and wasn't really bisexual. He’d never felt more lost in his entire life than when he hung up the phone that night, and it took him a long time to be assured of his sexuality in the same way as he was before he called her.

Some of the women were better than others, but he hadn’t told all of them and he’d never been met with outright acceptance...until you. And maybe it’s a byproduct of the politics of your generation or your own dalliances in same-sex affairs... but whatever it is... you’re still taking him in with open arms, and he feels like he doesn't deserve that.

“You hungry? It’s all set.”

“Yeah. It smells great, (y/n),” he says, his mouth watering at the potatoes you pull out of his oven. God, who knew how good an apartment could smell when you used it to cook?

He has memories of his abuelita cooking, of his mother, but he never stayed in the room and watched them work. His father always said it was a woman’s job, and it went on the long list of things he could never forgive him for. Watching you cook, he realizes it’s an expression of caring and that his father had ignored the league of male chefs there were in the world in support of a chauvinist ideology. Rafael wishes he could cook more than his embarrassing repertoire of eggs, grilled cheese, and boxed macaroni; he wishes he could do something for you.

He swallows it down. This was too much too soon, wasn’t it? What was he doing?

He doesn't have any idea. A relationship should tie you down to the earth, make you remember you inhabit it, but he's been in his head far too much lately. So dinner is quiet, almost painfully so, because he can't stop the thoughts racing through his head and manage to make conversation with you.

Evidently, you realize that too, kissing him deeply after you both cleaned up the kitchen. "Are you okay, honey? You still seem stressed."

"I'm fine." God, you calling him “honey” went right through him. No one really ever used pet names on him before, probably because he was too stiff. How did you know the simple use of that melted him to the core, made him momentarily forget his reservations?

"You certainly don't seem fine. Did something happen at work?"

"Just stop," he murmurs, avoiding your gaze. Why did you care? Why should you care? You were starting to get too close for comfort - but god forbid you start pulling away.

But you do, physically, at least. You let go of his hand, and hurt flashes through your eyes. "Do you want me to leave?"

"No. But I don't want to talk, either."

"Rafael--"

"Don't."

"Okay," you nod, pursing your lips, and you take his hand back in yours. "Do you want me to just sit with you?"

He nods wordlessly, topping off your scotch glasses and meeting you on the couch. You don't touch him at first, but then you take his right hand back in both of yours, massaging through the cramps in his palm from writing scrawled notes on his legal pad. "You don't have to," he says quietly.

"I want to," you respond, pressing your lips to his cheek. "Let me take care of you. Turn around so I can massage your shoulders."

"(Y/n)..." he protests, but he has a feeling you know what he needs better than he does, so he doesn't argue with your firm glance.

You're tentative at first, but you find a rhythm, and he feels the tension dissipate as you work your hands across his shoulders and upper back, and all he can think is that he never did one thing in his life that would warrant this tenderness.

And then.... you run your hand across his side, featherlight, until he's chuckling in spite of himself. "Jesus, (y/n), stop it," he says through laughter as you tickle him with more intensity, your fingers skittering across his stomach.

"I think you should make me," you challenge.

And he's breathless, trying to catch your hands in his own, but he can't stop laughing, either, as he tries and fails to gain leverage against you. You dodge him every chance you get, but at this point, you can't tickle him as much you jab at his sides and stomach. Eventually, his fingers dig deep into the flesh of your waist, and you let out a shriek - and it's then that he enacts his revenge, his long fingers dancing across your thighs and up your stomach until he looks up at you. You're giggling and blushing, your hair splayed out across his couch... and you look back, your laughter slowing as he leans down to kiss you. All he intended was to brush his lips against yours, but your hand comes to the nape of his neck, and your tongue slips past his lips, and you're seemingly still intent on leaving him gasping for air. "Trying to kill me?" he pants, smirking against your lips as he pulls away.

"No. I just know you needed the laugh," you say. "I know you said you don't want to talk, Rafi, but I... I think you should. I want to listen."

Rafael sighs heavily, gently moving off you and helping you sit back up. "I lied to you,” he says softly, not meeting your eyes. “I lied. SVU is difficult at times... for more personal reasons. I didn't go through anything like what you had gone through and believe me... I'm not trying to draw comparisons. But..."

“It was your father, wasn’t it?” you ask softly.

Ah. You know. You read him like a book. He nods. “Yes. He wasn’t a good man.”

“I didn’t... I just, you rarely talk about him, and I just assumed there was a reason why.”

“There was.”

“Do you want to talk about it?"

Rafael nods, finding the strength to meet your eyes again. “He... he would hurt my mother. I didn’t face the brunt of the abuse, she did, for me. But he... if I... he’d hurt me, sometimes, too, hit me if I talked back. He’d never hurt me the way he hurt Mami, but he was abusive toward me as well. I spent a lot of time at my abuelita’s apartment because of this, and she is...she’s the best woman I know. She did all she could to keep me safe. Ultimately, though, in high school... I came out to my mother and her. They didn’t understand it, really, and gave me some good old Catholic shaming. I still loved them, even if it was hard at the time. They didn’t dare out me to my father. They didn’t know what he would do. Well... I had a boyfriend that last year of high school, and my father saw us... and... you can guess what happened.”

“I’m so sorry, Rafi,” you whisper, scooting closer to him.

“I had to go to the hospital,” he whispers, unable to fight the tears. It feels like something’s closing in on his throat. He takes your hand for support, running his thumb over your fingers. “He somehow managed to break one of my ribs. I... he kept saying, ‘I pay for Catholic school for you to end up being a faggot?’ And I... kept thinking, kept saying, ‘no, Padre, you don’t understand,’ kept begging him to stop. He didn’t until he heard my rib crack and... I think he understood, then, that he’d crossed a boundary. It was one thing to him to hurt his wife, he hated women, but his child, his only son? I never told my mother what happened, because it would’ve just worried her and I was terrified. I just... I just said someone at school beat me up. My father... he was never good to me or my mother, let that be clear, but after that, it was almost like he was ashamed, I guess, because I had something over his head that he knew my mother would leave him for. Anyway... he died about 15 years ago.”

You tuck your legs underneath you, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” you say softly, kissing his cheek. “No one should have to go through that. Your mother is a strong woman, you know that right? Didn’t you tell me she runs a charter school now?”

“Yes. She does. Single-handedly, really. I owed it to her to make something of myself.”

“You did, Rafi, you did. I know she’s proud.”

“I hope so,” he mutters.

“You’re a better man than your father,” you murmur, rubbing his back. How did you know that was what he needed to hear? Even still, it didn’t feel real. What basis did you have for that?

“The jury is out on that one,” he mutters. “I haven’t had a child to destroy.”

You pull away from him, sit back on your side of the couch. “Rafael. Look at me.”

He exhales slowly, and does, meeting your concerned eyes, the ones all the victims that have come through your precinct have seen, and he hates that.

“Did it hold you back? Is that why you haven’t had children?”

Your voice is small like you almost don’t want to say it, don’t want to put a voice to it, and he wishes you didn’t, he wishes you stayed quiet. He leans back against the couch, a few silent tears leaving his eyes of their own volition.

But you knew him. You knew why. You’d hit the nail on the head once again.

“I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, Rafael. Please,” you say, and he looks over at you to see your eyes welling up too. “It’s not my business. I’m sorry. D-don’t be mad at me.”

He doesn’t say anything, just leans over and grasps you in a hug. You start crying, murmuring your apology over and over again. Your whimpers in his ear could kill him if he let them. You pull away from him with shaky hands on his shoulders, gripping on his suspenders for support. “I’m so stupid. I shouldn’t have—“

But he kisses you and he can feel your shock as your body tenses up against him. “Don’t you ever fucking say you’re stupid again,” he murmurs against your mouth. “You’re too smart for your own good.”

“Rafael, I overstepped.” You move your hands back to your lap.

“Maybe you did,” he shrugs, wiping his eyes with his shirtsleeves. “But you were right.”

You’re silent. He can tell you feel guilty; you’re wringing your hands and only looking at him when he’s not looking at you.

“I’m not mad at you,” he says, and you visibly relax, leaning over to hug his waist. “I never realized it... until... this woman I dated, her name was Yelina. She wanted a whole white picket fence deal, lawyer husband, three kids, money. And I... I couldn’t give any of that to her at the time. I didn’t want to get married, I was terrified of having a wife. I didn’t want to have children... I was afraid I’d turn into my father and hurt them the way he hurt me. So she left me for my best friend at the time.”

“Oh, honey. You’ve had bad luck,” you say, your voice slightly muffled against the fabric of his shirt. You rub his back comfortingly. “She wasn’t a smart woman. Couldn’t she see you were in pain?”

“I...guess not. Maybe I didn’t even really know I was then. She wanted kids, marriage, all of that, right away, and we were young, then, younger than you. But she didn’t want to wait for me to work out my issues. I can't really blame her. I still haven’t now, so maybe she was right to leave me. Who she left me for... well, that didn’t exactly work out in her favor. I prosecuted him for child pornography about a year ago.”

“Ah. Perhaps she should have learned about delayed gratification before leaving you.”

Rafael chuckles at that. “Why are you saying that?”

“Look who you turned out to be. She knows she made the wrong choice now.”

“I don’t know about that. Maybe neither of us were the right one for her. I’m still my father’s son. I could still turn out...how I feared.”

“I don’t see that in you, Rafael,” you say softly.

“My mother didn’t see it in my father, either,” he says, rubbing his face with his hand. “Part of it is genetic. It has to be.”

“People throw down the deck that they’re dealt and demand a new one all the time,” you tell him. He wraps his arm around you.

“But do they get one?”

“I think so,” you say. “If they fight hard enough and they have the resources. Some of it is luck, no doubt... But you can.”

He feels guilty, because he knows you’re thinking of your brother, who can never outplay the cards he was dealt.

“Well, I guess I never wanted to play the game and risk it," he says bitterly.

“Well, what about now?”

“Who’s going to marry me now, have kids with me? I’m an old man. That ship has sailed,” he says, hating himself and you, a little. Maybe you’d leave now like Yelina did. You were young and pretty, and you could find a man closer to your age that would father your children if that’s what you wanted.

“Do you really believe that?” Your voice is small again, treading lightly. Maybe you were scared for your own future if you stayed with him. Maybe you should be.

“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he murmurs. He knows what he can’t believe: the fact that you’re still here, still holding onto him like your life depended on it. And you knew him, now, you knew what kept him up at night... and you were still here, acting like he was all you wanted.

“I just want you to know that I’ve been held back, too, Rafael. Abuse does that. I couldn’t have meaningful relationships with anyone for a while, and sex scared me. It still does, sometimes. You’re...you’re one of the few who’s waited this long for me to be ready and not gotten upset. I just want to thank you for that. And that’s how I know you’re not your father because from what you’ve told me, I don’t think he would’ve been as forgiving toward me. You can break the cycle, Rafi. You can if you want to.”

“You shouldn’t be thanking me for that. I’m not going to force you into doing something you’re not ready for.”

“Proving my point, Rafael,” you say, squeezing his arm. “Would your father have that same mindset?”

“Well...no. Probably not.”

“Would your father go to law school with the intent of helping the helpless?”

He shakes his head. His father didn’t do anything to help anyone. "That's not why I went to law school, either. I went to get the hell out of that barrio."

"Why'd you choose SVU then? There are much more lucrative paths you could've taken with a law degree. Why is it every time I try to show you that you're a good man you insist on fighting with me?"

"Because I don't deserve to be put up on a pedestal, (y/n). I'm just trying to survive," Rafael says, shrugging. "I'm not some martyr for a cause, or a Christ figure or--"

"I didn't say that you were. But you’re also not your father, Rafael, and I don’t see any danger of you turning into him, either,” you say and he hopes you’re right, he hopes you know him better than he knows himself, and that you see something in him he’s never seen, something all the men and women before you never saw either. “You still have time.”

“Not as much as I used to,” he says, but that’s the thing, isn’t it? Rafael sighs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Look at the two of you, both damaged, both broken by what the world threw at you, but here you were, together. Were you healing each other or hurting each other? He can’t tell, at the end of the day.

You sit up a little, and he loosens his grip around your shoulders. You kiss him softly, comfortingly.

All his anxiety about this night is gone, but it isn’t replaced with relief like he’d hoped. Instead, there’s this gnawing ache, this need to tell you to leave, that he was bad news and was going to break your heart, that he was over 40 and didn’t know how to love anyone that wasn’t his family. Why couldn’t anything scare you away?

Part of him knows he doesn’t want you to leave despite all this, even if he’s terrified. You must know, too, because you stayed.

Tags: @caked-crusader​ @thatesqcrush​ @law-nerd105​

Want to be added to my tags? Let me know!

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

If There’s a Place I Could Be - Chapter Ninety Eight

If There’s a Place I Could Be Tag

October 29th, 2000

Emile smiled, looking over at Remy, who was more excited than he had ever seen his new friend before. They had gone down to a local arcade to fool around and play some games, and Remy was super invested in Pac-Man. Like, more invested than Emile was in cartoons. And that was definitely saying something.

Remy finished the level he was on and whooped. “All right! New personal best, baby, let’s go!”

Emile laughed. Remy was a little abrasive around the edges, but this was proof that he could soften with time, or at least, hold his tongue in check and not be hurtful if he really wanted to be. Not one bad word left Remy’s lips, not even for the ghosts when they almost ate him. Emile was...surprised. He was starting to realize that he was fond of Remy. Not even out of pure spite. He was just fond of him as a friend.

  March 28th, 2004

Emile was sitting in the living room of his parents’ house, with his grandfather sitting next to him on the couch. Things had been really strained ever since Emile had delivered the news that he was going to marry Remy. But today, Emile could see just how much that strain had been affecting his grandfather. He looked older, withered, and Emile swallowed. If Emile and Remy hadn’t been able to get married, how likely was it that Emile would only hear about his grandfather when he had passed on?

No, stop it, that line of thinking wasn’t helpful. His grandfather definitely hadn’t been pleased that he was going to marry a man, no matter what they did behind closed doors, but he was still alive. “So...you wanted to talk to me?” Emile asked hesitantly. He cringed at how uncertain his own voice sounded.

His grandfather nodded. “I have been doing some thinking, ever since you said you were bisexual.”

Emile flinched minutely. “I don’t regret telling you back then. And I don’t regret telling you I got engaged, either. It would be wrong to just...not invite you to the wedding.”

“It’s all the way in Massachusetts,” his grandfather said, almost petulant.

“They’re the only state where gay marriage is legal, Grandpa. They may not recognize us as a legal couple here, but we wanted the ceremony as a symbolic thing. If and when gay marriage is legalized everywhere, or at least here, we’ll redo the papers and make it so that yes, we are legally married no matter what state we go to,” Emile said. “And until then, Remy and I can get papers to enter a civil union. Next best thing, although in our minds, it’s not enough.”

His grandfather put on a brave face, a fact which Emile appreciated. “And...you’re certain about this?”

“As sure as I have ever been about anything,” Emile said with a nod. “This is something both of us are positive we want. And we’ve both been tested, neither of us have any nasty surprises in the form of...you know...sexually transmitted diseases. No HIV, if you were worried about that.”

“I had...friends in the eighties, who never told me they were gay, until they got sick and couldn’t hide how they got it anymore,” his grandfather said. “I definitely don’t want that happening to you.”

“It won’t,” Emile said, putting a hand on his grandfather’s knee. He hoped he was being as reassuring as he was trying to be.

“And this makes you happy.”

Emile smiled. “Grandpa, Remy makes me feel like the happiest person alive. I love him with my whole heart.”

His grandfather nodded. “Then, there’s something I want you to have. Consider it an early wedding present of sorts.”

Emile’s eyebrows shot up as his grandfather passed him a nondescript brown package. He tore into it and he laughed when he recognized the shade of pink that had given him so much pride in the past. He stood, pulled it out and unfolded the bisexual pride flag... his bisexual pride flag. He thought he might cry.

Although, considering he had given Remy permission to bust in here should he start crying, that might not be the best idea.

“There’s another flag in there, for your fiancé,” his grandfather said.

Emile turned back to the package and pulled out a flag, folded up in a triangle like his was, sporting the red and orange stripes that Emile immediately recognized. “I...wow. Thank you, so much,” he managed, putting it back in the package.

His grandfather stood and hugged Emile tight. “I may not understand, but I don’t have to. It makes you happy, and that’s all that matters.”

Emile actually cried at that, Remy be damned, and hugged his grandfather tight. “Thank you, so much,” he repeated. “Thank you.”

“Just marry the man of your dreams, Emile. All I ever want for you is to be happy,” his grandfather said.

Emile grinned. “And Remy, too?”

His grandfather sighed and nodded with a weak smile. “And Remy too.”

Emile laughed and called, “Rem, get in here!”

Remy immediately burst into the room, wide-eyed and worried. “What?!”

“Grandpa has a gift for you,” Emile said, passing the opened package to Remy.

Remy looked inside and pulled out the flag in shock. “Wow,” he said, stunned. “I don’t know what to say.”

Emile’s grandfather shrugged. “Emile could do way worse,” he said.

Remy’s hackles were starting to rise and Emile stepped in. “Remy, Remy! Remy, he's joking,” Emile assured.

Emile’s grandfather had a sly grin on his face and his shoulders were shaking. “Emile and I don’t pull punches with each other, and we would tease each other to Hell and back when he was younger and going through a rebellious face. It’s a form of love, I assure you,” his grandfather explained to Remy.

“You’re on such thin ice,” Remy said, but lowered his guard just a fraction.

“Considering your history, I probably should have put more thought in before I said that joke,” Emile’s grandfather mused. “But my point still stands. Emile could do way worse than someone who makes him this happy, and who he trusts without a second thought.”

Remy turned a little red, and Emile laughed. “You might have broken him, Grandpa!” he teased. “And before we could even exchange vows!”

His grandfather laughed, but Emile didn’t miss the strain in it. “I’m gonna be honest, Grandpa. You don’t have to come to the wedding if this...makes you uncomfortable.”

“Emile, don’t be ridiculous,” his grandfather said. “Do you want me there?”

“...Yes,” Emile said softly.

“Then I’ll be there. I’ll get comfortable enough to throw rice on the newlyweds after you say your vows and make out at the altar,” his grandfather said. “Your wedding invitation showed me how committed you were to not only Remy, but to me. You gave me chance after chance to connect, and, well, I may have had my head in my ass for a while but I’m no fool. I’m growing old, Emile, and I want to be in touch with you whenever the Lord calls me home. I want you and your future husband and I to be in good standing when that day comes.”

“Hopefully it won’t come for a while yet,” Emile said, tears still falling as he hugged his grandfather tightly.

“Now that we have the...feelings all out of the way,” his grandfather laughed, “What do you say to some catch-up? How are your studies going?”

“Oh, Emile here has only gotten one ‘B’ his entire college career,” Remy laughed, clapping Emile on the shoulder. “And that was in gym. Apparently, his teacher was a bit less endeared by Emile’s giant puppy coordination than most.”

Emile’s grandfather laughed. “That sounds like my grandson,” he said, beaming at both Remy and Emile in turn. “So I take it you’re still on-track to graduate, then.”

“Yeah,” Emile said, scratching the back of his neck. “Like, there are kids with four-point-oh grades, so I’m not going to be the valedictorian speaker, but I’m still pretty proud of those grades. Especially considering that for a while, I was pulling night-shifts at Target, and I still work there to help fund everything.”

His grandfather nodded. “Things never seem to get cheaper as life goes on,” he said sagely. “The way inflation’s going, I don’t think it’ll ever get down to what it once was.”

The three of them got comfortable in the room, Emile and his grandfather on the couch, Remy sitting on the coffee table. Some time later, Mom and Dad walked in. “Everyone’s made nice, I take it?” Mom asked.

“I don’t think Remy would be sitting on the table if they hadn’t, honey,” Dad pointed out.

“Okay, you’ve got me there,” Remy laughed. “I don’t usually do this around people I’m uncomfortable with.”

“I hope that I can continue to make you more comfortable around me in the future,” Emile’s grandfather said. “The way I acted before was...immature, and uncalled for, and I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Remy said with a little smile. “You’re owning up to your mistake and learning from it, and that’s all anyone can really ask for. I learned that from Emile, here, over the years.”

“Stop,” Emile said, blushing.

“What? It’s true,” Remy argued. “I was a heartless bitch when I first entered college. You taught me that it was okay to feel. I owe a lot of my growth to you.”

“Not all of it,” Emile pointed out. “You’re the one who decided that you were going to grow. You made that choice, I just added the...stakes and the twine.”

“Still, stakes and twine are pretty important,” Remy insisted.

“Boys, boys, you’re both pretty, and pretty important to each other. No need to debate it,” Emile’s grandfather cut in.

Remy snorted at that, and Emile burst into giggles.

“You know, you’re not bad,” Remy said to Emile’s grandfather. “You had a bit of a moment, there, but I think you can get better. What’s more, you think you can get better, which is what really matters. And I, for one, am very relieved that you’re willing to put in that work. I know that you coming to the wedding has been a source of some of Emile’s anxiety for several months now.”

“Well, someone couldn’t see me until Spring Break, not that I exactly blame him for needing some time away from me,” Emile’s grandfather said. “And it wound up working out, because those pride flags I got you came in late, and if we had met up before February, I wouldn’t have had them in time.”

“I definitely appreciate the pride flags,” Remy said, laughing. “It makes things ten times easier at Pride Parades. People will seek out those specific colors like a code and once they see you with it, they’ll come up and talk to you a lot faster, because they know you’re one of them.”

“It’s a community thing,” Emile filled in at his grandfather’s confused look. “The parades bring people all over the city, or sometimes, the county or state or nation to be themselves at this one place at this one time in June. Remy and I try to make a point to go every year. It’s really nice.”

“Well, I might not join you in that, because Lord knows I’m not as young as I used to be, and I don’t handle summer heat well, but that sounds like fun for you two,” his grandfather said.

They chatted a while longer, before Mom pointed out it was getting late and everyone had a stretch of driving to go before they made it home. Emile and his grandfather hugged for a long time before they left the house.

Emile’s grandfather and Remy shook hands, exchanging friendly smiles as they stood at the edge of the house. “Good night, Remy. I’ll be pleased to see you at the wedding,” he said. “And...for what it’s worth, I’m sorry that whoever hurt you in the name of religion did so. I’m starting to learn that faith and traditions are much more fluid than rigid, and those who hold onto those beliefs will one day end up a byproduct of ages long past. They will be on the wrong side of history, and...I hope that they come to see things this way. Even if they don’t, you’ll always have a grandfather in me, and I think Emile’s grandmother, God bless her soul, would have taken an immediate shine to you.”

Remy stood there in shock at Emile’s grandfather's words, before he choked out a watery, “Thank you, sir. Really, that means a great deal more than you could imagine.”

They all exchanged one final goodbye before getting in their cars. And as Emile dozed in the passenger seat on the drive home, Remy looked at the pride flags, and excitedly chattered. Sometimes, people could indeed come around. Emile’s grandfather, and Remy himself, were proof of that concept. Emile smiled sleepily, closing his eyes. All was right with the world.

[welllpthisishappening]

Welllp These Are Books: the January 2021 Edition

Tumblr’s gif search leaves a lot to be desired, so there’s no actual gif of her slamming the book shut, which is—y’know, disappointing. Still, the continued ability of the public library system to send books to my Kindle ensures that I continue to read every romantic comedy and fantasy story I can find. Of which I have plenty of thoughts and opinions. But, like, what’s the point of having thoughts and opinions if you’re not putting them on the internet? There isn’t one, obviously. Books and links and feelings and more ridiculous headlines all under the cut. 

BEST BOOK AWARD WINNER OF A VERY WEIRD JANUARY THAT HELPED DISTRACT FROM A VERY WEIRD JANUARY

The Wrath & the Dawn by Renee Ahdieh Every dawn brings horror to a different family in a land ruled by a killer. Khalid, the eighteen-year-old Caliph of Khorasan, takes a new bride each night only to have her executed at sunrise. So it is a suspicious surprise when sixteen-year-old Shahrzad volunteers to marry Khalid. But she does so with a clever plan to stay alive and exact revenge on the Caliph for the murder of her best friend and countless other girls. Shazi’s wit and will, indeed, get her through to the dawn that no others have seen, but with a catch . . . she’s falling in love with the very boy who killed her dearest friend. She discovers that the murderous boy-king is not all that he seems and neither are the deaths of so many girls. Shazi is determined to uncover the reason for the murders and to break the cycle once and for all.

This was so good?!?! I finished the first book and them immediately started the sequel, like no break whatsoever?!! I wish they weren’t teenagers?!! But seriously I wish they hadn’t been teenagers. Like, I get it. It’s YA. That probably sells better, something about markets that I don’t understand. I don’t care. It was weird that they were teenagers. Also, some of the plot points just kind of...happened? And I’m not entirely sure they were ever resolved. (Although there are a bunch of short stories, so. Maybe I just haven’t gotten there yet.) Despite that, the writing was gorgeous, I remain as prone to swooning over sad boys patent pending as I was when I was sixteen and Shahrzad was a fantastic heroine. Nine out of ten (would have been ten if they weren’t teenagers) and have already put holds on other books Ahdieh has written. 

OBLIGATORY RAGE-INDUCING ROM-COM

Head Over Heads by  Hannah Orenstein The past seven years have been hard on Avery Abrams: After training her entire life to make the Olympic gymnastics team, a disastrous performance ended her athletic career for good. Her best friend and teammate, Jasmine, went on to become an Olympic champion, then committed the ultimate betrayal by marrying their emotionally abusive coach, Dimitri. Now, reeling from a breakup with her football star boyfriend, Avery returns to her Massachusetts hometown, where new coach Ryan asks her to help him train a promising young gymnast with Olympic aspirations. Despite her misgivings and worries about the memories it will evoke, Avery agrees. Back in the gym, she's surprised to find sparks flying with Ryan. But when a shocking scandal in the gymnastics world breaks, it has shattering effects not only for the sport but also for Avery and her old friend Jasmine.

I stopped reading it. Honestly. I got, like, 46% of the way through, kept complaining to Justin about how goddamn annoying Avery was and how no one had any personality and I wanted them all to fall off the beam and he was like—stop reading it, then? And I was like—I can do that? And then I did! Also, I understand it needed conflict, but the “shocking scandal” in the description is a sexual assault that was not only NOT my cup of tea, but felt like a massive attempt to be topical by using what happened at Michigan State without actually saying it was about Michigan state. 

PEOPLE WHO DON’T KNOW SPORTS WRITE SPORTS AND DO IT OK

Evvie Drake Starts Over by Linda Holmes In a sleepy seaside town in Maine, recently widowed Eveleth “Evvie” Drake rarely leaves her large, painfully empty house nearly a year after her husband’s death in a car crash. Everyone in town, even her best friend, Andy, thinks grief keeps her locked inside, and Evvie doesn’t correct them. Meanwhile, in New York City, Dean Tenney, former Major League pitcher and Andy’s childhood best friend, is wrestling with what miserable athletes living out their worst nightmares call the “yips”: he can’t throw straight anymore, and, even worse, he can’t figure out why. As the media storm heats up, an invitation from Andy to stay in Maine seems like the perfect chance to hit the reset button on Dean’s future. When he moves into an apartment at the back of Evvie’s house, the two make a deal: Dean won’t ask about Evvie’s late husband, and Evvie won’t ask about Dean’s baseball career. Rules, though, have a funny way of being broken—and what starts as an unexpected friendship soon turns into something more. To move forward, Evvie and Dean will have to reckon with their pasts—the friendships they’ve damaged, the secrets they’ve kept—but in life, as in baseball, there’s always a chance—up until the last out.

I am admittedly a sports snob. Writing about sports is my thing and I’m super particular about reading about it. But this sounded good and for the most part it was good. Emotional, too. Like, “jeepers, that was intense” kind of emotional. But also some of the things Dean talked about were just...not how sports work and that drives me nuts. Also another story that was, as mentioned, super emotional only to get tied up in this nice little bow. Which, cool, but also...not? Just felt rushed at the end. 

IN WHICH SHIPPING IS QUESTIONED AND I JUST LIKE BEN BARNES

Shadow and Bone by Leigh Bardugo Soldier. Summoner. Saint. Orphaned and expendable, Alina Starkov is a soldier who knows she may not survive her first trek across the Shadow Fold—a swath of unnatural darkness crawling with monsters. But when her regiment is attacked, Alina unleashes dormant magic not even she knew she possessed. Now Alina will enter a lavish world of royalty and intrigue as she trains with the Grisha, her country's magical military elite—and falls under the spell of their notorious leader, the Darkling. He believes Alina can summon a force capable of destroying the Shadow Fold and reuniting their war-ravaged country, but only if she can master her untamed gift.As the threat to the kingdom mounts and Alina unlocks the secrets of her past, she will make a dangerous discovery that could threaten all she loves and the very future of a nation. Welcome to Ravka . . . a world of science and superstition where nothing is what it seems.

I wanted to like this so much. So, so much. And sometimes I did. Sometimes I did not. At all. World building is my weakness and this has got it in spades, but the characters are kind of—boring? I couldn’t really bring myself to care about Alina and I wanted to kick Mal in the shins sometimes. The only interesting one was The Darkling who’s like the embodiment of all evil and I am not here to ship-shame anyone, but it’s kinda weird to ship him and Alina. I pictured Ben Barnes the entire time. I’m still excited for the show. I’ll read the sequel at some point, probably. 

BEING A JERK IS NOT ROMANCE, YOU’RE JUST A JERK

Would Like to Meet by Rachel Winters It's Evie Summers's job to find out. Because if she can't convince her film agency's biggest client, Ezra Chester, to write the romantic-comedy screenplay he owes producers, her career will be over. The catch? Arrogant Ezra thinks rom-coms are unrealistic—and he'll only put pen to paper if Evie proves to him that it's possible to meet a man in real life the way it happens on the big screen. Cynical Evie might not believe in happily ever after, but she'll do what it takes to save the job that's been her lifeline . . . even if it means reenacting iconic rom-com scenes in public. Spilling orange juice on a cute stranger? No problem. Leaving her number in books all over London to see who calls? Done. With a little help from her well-meaning friends and the adorable father-daughter duo who keep witnessing her humiliations, Evie is determined to show Ezra she can meet a man the way Sally met Harry. But can a workaholic who's given up on love find a meet-cute of her very own?

I love cliches. Love ‘em. Want to read about ‘em, want to write about ‘em. Here for happily ever after. Much less here for the overused and antiquated cliche of dude doesn’t believe in love like girl does, dude ridicules girl’s belief, dude was secretly in love with her the whole time. It’s super dumb. And we should stop writing it. Also really done with rom com girl can’t figure out her life! she’s overworked! she doesn’t have time for her friends! Super duper dumb. I don’t know guys, this book happened. 

FAST-PACED ROMANCE ISN’T AS WEIRD WHEN IT’S WELL WRITTEN AND THERE’S A MOOSE INVOLVED

The Tourist Attraction by Sarah Morgenthaler He had a strict "no tourists" policy...until she broke all of his rules. When Graham Barnett named his diner The Tourist Trap, he meant it as a joke. Now he's stuck slinging reindeer dogs to an endless parade of resort visitors who couldn't interest him less. Not even the sweet, enthusiastic tourist in the corner who blushes every time he looks her way...

Two weeks in Alaska isn't just the top item on Zoey Caldwell's bucket list. It's the whole bucket. One look at the mountain town of Moose Springs and she's smitten. But when an act of kindness brings Zoey into Graham's world, she may just find there's more to the grumpy local than meets the eye...and more to love in Moose Springs than just the Alaskan wilderness.

This story of Alaska marries together all the things you didn't realize you needed: a whirlwind vacation, a friendly moose, a grumpy diner owner, a quirky tourist, plenty of restaurant humor, and a happy ending that'll take you away from it all.

I’m not one for slow burn, but I also have a hard time believing romances that happen in, like, a blink. Not the case here! It was so goddamn cute! There was a moose! Graham kept calling Zoey darlin’ and it made my heart try to explode in my chest! Stars Hollow-levels of small town with lots of side characters and a good plot and a restaurant that everyone always went to! You guys know I’m trash for everyone always going to hang out in the same restaurant! I’m reading the sequel now, so that’s how much I enjoyed it. 

AMAZON BOOKS THAT CONTINUE TO BE WAY BETTER THAN THEY SHOULD BE

Elodie of the Sea by Shari L. Tapscott (part of the Eldentimber Series) Eight years have passed since the marriage tournament that decided the fate of Princess Pippa of Lauramore and strengthened alliances between the kingdoms of Elden. The competitors have moved on with their lives. Some have found adventure; some have found love. Prince Bran of Triblue, however, has put his life on hold, preparing for his father's crown. Two days before Bran's winter coronation, just when the prince cannot afford distractions, a girl washes onto the Triblue shore. She has no memory of her past life, no clue who she is or where she belongs—nothing but a ring on her finger and a peculiar marking on her cheek. And the newly crowned king has more than a mysterious girl to worry about. The sea has become unpredictable. Storms claim ships in the dead of night, and sailors return with horrifying stories of monsters from the deep. It soon becomes clear the girl and the bizarre events are connected. The girl came from the sea... and the sea wants her back. But Bran isn't willing to give her or his kingdom up without a fight, even if it means he must request help from every corner of Elden.

Listen, sometimes you have to read about a mermaid who lost her memory and the soon-to-be-king who’s, like, immediately in love with her. I mentioned Tapscott’s books in the 2020 post and the sentiment remains the same. You ever read a book that reads like fic? Lots of banter, some romance, steady pacing. That’s what her books are like. There are five in the Eldentimber series, all about a different princess in a different kingdom, but they all connect so characters pop up again and again and then they kiss. It’s real good. 

[ecstaticunicorns]

freckles and constellations

here’s some Eclipse fluff i wrote at midnight :3

Violet is sitting on the edge of the ship, legs dangling over the side into the void below. She’s playing her ukulele - nothing too complicated, just a simple chord progression. C, G, Am, G. She kicks her leg in time as she strums. Above her, the night sky gleams, and it reminds her of being a kid, half asleep in the backseat of her mom’s car late at night, staring out the window as they drove home. She starts singing quietly.

“Hey, hotshot,” says a voice from behind her, and Violet startles and stops playing as Aria swiftly sits down next to her. “I didn’t know you played the ukulele.”

“Oh, yeah, I picked this up when we were in San Francisco a few days ago. I’m not very good at it.”

Aria raises an eyebrow. “Violet Soluce? Not a prodigy at every instrument?” She laughs. “Hey, you’re better than I am.”

Violet’s too busy staring at Aria - the way her hair bounces when she laughs, the bright white of her teeth, the crescent grin at the edge of her mouth with a dimple that Violet hasn’t seen before - to process quickly. She laughs quietly and holds her ukulele closer self-consciously.

Aria’s expression changes. “Did I make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, it looked like you were having a moment and I shouldn’t have interrupted, I’ll just go-”

Violet grabs Aria’s ankle as she’s standing up. “No! Stay. Please. If you want to.”

Aria looks at her, surprised - Violet blushes - and sits back down. 

“I’m glad you joined me. I want to learn to trust you.”

“You don’t trust me?” Aria says, and she sounds so wounded that it hurts Violet.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry, let me rephrase… I want to learn to trust. I want to learn to be trustworthy.”

“I trust you.”

The words spill out of Aria’s mouth, quickly, abruptly, genuinely, and Violet realizes that she doesn’t know if Aria’s ever been more heartfelt. The cocky grin, the raised eyebrow, the casual posture are all gone. Violet doesn’t know how to react. “I trust you too.”

Aria looks surprised again, then smiles. “Hey, do you want to keep playing that song?”

“Oh, uh, sure. If you’re okay with hearing me sing.”

Violet starts strumming again, and she opens her mouth and starts singing, and she closes her eyes. And so she doesn’t see the way Aria looks at her, starstruck. She doesn’t see Aria breathe out in awe, watching Violet’s face, pale and luminous like the moon, dotted in freckles like craters, scar running down her cheek like the impact of some brave rocket.

When Violet opens her eyes, Aria is staring at her in wonder. “Woah,” she says, and she grins, not the coy smirk she normally has, but a genuine grin, curling up towards a dimple, lips parted in awe. “That was so good. Your voice is… so amazing.”

Violet blushes, and all she can think to say is “Your voice is pretty, too,” and that just makes her blush more.

Then it’s Aria’s turn to blush, her cheeks darkening as she stares at Violet in surprise before smiling and looking away. “...thank you.”

And that’s the moment where Violet realizes, ‘oh. We’re both in this.’ And there is something between them now, something powerful, some force that they’re floating in, and Violet doesn’t want to break it, so she doesn’t say anything, even though there are so many things that she wants to say.

“Did you write that song?” Aria finally says.

“Yeah. I’ve been working on it a bit. It’s just a draft right now.”

“What’s it called?”

“I’ve been thinking of it as The Massachusetts Midnight Express.”

“That’s so cool!”

“Really?”

“You’re so talented! That’s such a cool name for a song! You’ve had a ukulele for just a few days and you’re already writing music?!”

All Violet can do it stare at this girl who’s lived on a spaceship for years, who saved her from a fire demon, who fought a monster alligator, who runs into danger headfirst with antique pistols at the ready and the stars in her hair, who’s now acting like the act of writing a song is more magical than any of those things, and something throbs in Violet’s heart, wondering if Aria even knows how sweet she is.

“You’re amazing,” says Violet.

For a second Aria looks like she’s been shot, all surprise and confusion, before she smiles wide. “Vio, you’re so wonderful.”

“Aria, you are too. You’ve been living here, mostly alone, for so long, after being hurt so much, and you still care so much about others. You’re so brave, and kind, and I really mean it when I say that I trust you. And I don’t trust very easily. But I know that if I fall, you’ll be there to catch me.”

And suddenly Aria’s entire confident facade crumbles around her and Violet can see how deeply that made it through to her, can see in Aria’s expression that she doesn’t believe those things about herself, maybe never has, but is desperate to be that person that Violet sees her to be. Violet doesn’t know how she knows this. Maybe she’s making some of it up. But she can tell. In this space they’re sharing together, this 2 AM floaty feeling, they don’t need to say all of their feelings to share them.

Aria blushes deeply and covers her mouth and nose with her hand, as if trying to contain some emotion, and while Aria’s voice normally sounds light and casual and fluid, it comes out as a light squeak when she says, “You’re really pretty.”

And god, Violet wants to kiss her. She wants to climb into her lap and wrap her arms around her and kiss her so hard, and kiss her and kiss her and kiss her, a kiss for every star in the sky. But she’s scared to break the magic of this space, the magic of the unsaid, scared to move and dispel this starlit sanctuary, and so she just says, “You’re really cute,” and they both sit in that as they blush.

“I trust you,” says Violet. “I know it’s hard to believe that about yourself. Trust me, I know. But you’re the sweetest, kindest, most determined and loving person I know.” They’re looking into each other’s eyes now. Aria’s are wide, the dark brown reflecting the twinkling starlight, and Violet can’t help but to admire the soft curl of her eyelashes.

“I trust you, moonrabbit,” says Aria, and Violet doesn’t know when they moved closer together but she can feel Aria’s breath warm on her face, and she’s blushing so hard, and she knows Aria can see it. They know. They both know, and they both know they know, but they’re not going to say anything. Not now. This is a time for the unsaid. It’s magic, and Violet doesn’t want to undo this charm. Not now. They both linger there, staring at each other. Violet doesn’t know for how long. It could be a minute, or five, or sixty.

Violet wants to do something, to say something, to kiss her, but finally, all she can say is, “It’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Aria says, leaning back, and the spell is broken, and Violet instantly regrets saying that. “We should probably get some sleep…” and Violet can tell from the look on her face that Aria doesn’t want to leave this.

And so she grabs Aria’s hand, and suddenly that floaty magical feeling is back, burning hot like the tail of a comet, as Violet says, “Actually, do you want to stay up with me?”