#and so we roll into month six of a story every day!
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
lullabyes22-blog · 9 hours ago
Text
Snippet - A Survivor's Story - Forward But Never Forget/XOXO
Tumblr media
Sevika spittin' facts...
Forward but Never Forget/XOXO
Snippet:
"I hear you thinking," Sevika warns, without opening her eyes.
"Thinking?"
"About how to get Jinx away from him."
Despite reflex, Vi doesn't ball her hands into fists. She's getting better at concealment. Not a pro like Sevika. Not a savant like Silco. But she's learning. These past five months, she's learnt enough to last a lifetime. Yet she has so much left to know.
"He's not a monster," Vi says. "I thought he was. Now I understand he's just a fucked-up asshole. But that doesn't mean he's not dangerous."
"He's got his reasons."
"I'm tired of you defending him, Sevika."
"I'm defending—"
"—Zaun?" Vi's jaw grates. "Yeah. That's your big religion. The cause you've given everything to. And he's the messiah. You worship him. The rest of us have to believe too, or be cast out." Her eyes seize Sevika's, daring her to contradict. "It's easy to believe in him, too. I'd like to say otherwise. But I've seen him work in real-time. He's got a mojo. A pull, and he pulls who he wants. But that's not faith, Sevika. That's smokescreen to hide the rot inside. And someone like that, they learn all sorts of strategies to hide it. All that smooth talk, all that drive and charisma—they aren't Silco. They're the bracing that hides the sickness." 
"Look—"
"I have looked," Vi snaps, then takes a stabilizing breath. "I get it, okay? If he hadn't fought for Zaun, we'd still be under Piltover. If he hadn't done awful things, the Fissurefolk would be suffering worse. I understand that. He—Jinx—changed the city in ways no one else could've done. You can't scare monsters unless you're the scarier monster." She shakes her head. "Maybe he's the leader the Undercity—Zaun—needs right now. But what about ten years down the line? Twenty? What kind of shape will our home be if it's just a game of whack-a-villain every minute of every day? How do we take care of each other, if we're at each other's throats? How will Jinx take care of herself as she gets older? She doesn't need more monsters in her life, Sevika. She's got enough. She needs to feel safe. To know that her own city won't chew her up and spit her out if she slips up. To know her own home is behind her and not just a snakepit."
Sevika's features hold a deliberate smoothness. She says nothing.
"What people do isn't always who they are," Vi goes on. "Vander always told me that. I think it's true. For you. For a lot of folks who fought for Silco's cause. It's not true for Silco. Living means changing. Someone who can't change isn't really alive. Silco isn't." She swallows. "Not since Vander drowned him." 
Sevika takes a swallow of her beer. When she's finished, there's a half-smile on her face. Too old a smile, too knowing.
"You're right," she says. "He isn't alive."
Vi stares.
House odds were that Sevika would argue. That she'd shrug off Vi's outburst. Not that she'd pay it off with plainspoken fact.
"He's not alive," she repeats, "because he's forgotten how to be."
"Forgotten?"
"He's not you, Vi." Sevika's tone holds a weird stoicism. "If he was, he'd have had a different story. Not everyone's so lucky."
"Lucky?" Resentment creeps under Vi's skin. "I grew up in the Lanes. Same as you and Silco. I lost my family. My sister was stolen. I spent six years in Stillwater."
"A hard-knock life."
"What's that mean?"
Sevika shrugs. No sarcasm. Just blunt fact. "People in the Lanes—hell, people all over—go through all kinds of shit. They survive wars and famines. They get sold to slavers. They wake up one morning and a crazy Mage burns their village down. Or Noxus rolls in and salts all their fields. It's disaster after disaster. A life of hardship. Some learn early on how to cope. How to deal with pain. Others... it's like they just stop. Stop in time. Stop living completely." Her eyes go heavy-lidded. "Nobody has a perfect childhood. But some kids learn how to be happy, or at least float on when things aren't happy. A lot of it's down to nature. The rest? That's how you grow up. Who teaches you to be strong, and smart, and resilient. For you, it was Vander and your folks. Whoever gave you hope and kept you sane. For me..."
Belatedly, Vi understands.
"It was your sister."
Sevika doesn't flinch. Withdrawing a cigarillo from her pocket, she lights up perfunctorily. Brightleaf drifts in Vi's airspace.
"Don't recall mentioning Nandi to you," Sevika says.
"Silco did." Vi's eyelids droop. She feels tired all of a sudden. Torpid with the humidity; the slanting sunrays. With the surreal passage of time and the inexorable weight of history. "So did Vander, when I was a kid. She was the Priestess at Janna's Temple. Mom liked her." She looks away. "Mom was a believer in the old gods. Said they were a part of us, same as blood. She'd always visit the Temple for the Priestess' prayers. She'd stay for her stories. I remember those stories. I didn't understand 'em much, but I liked listening to her voice. I just never connected..."
That you two were family.
That you lost someone, same as me.
Vi's eyes are dry. But she feels the emotion lodged inside: half-processed.
"I didn't connect the dots," she repeats. "I'm sorry."
A plume of smoke rises pensively from Sevika's lips.
"She was a good woman," she says at length "Better one than me. I've made a career out of breaking bones. Nandi made a calling out of binding them back together.  But it was just a different kind of faith, y'know? She had faith in the divine. I had faith in me and mine. So I took care of her. She took care of me. We were family."
"Like me and Powder."
Sevika says nothing. She tips her chin back, staring at the sun-spangled sky.
"After she passed," Vi says, more tentatively, "you took up with Silco?"
The orientation of Sevika's body shifts.  "Don't recall mentioning that either."
"I—I saw you two."
"Saw us?" 
"Last night." Vi’s tongue burns as the confession slips past. " At the penthouse."
The cigarillo smolders in Sevika's prosthetic fingers: spark and flint. Smoke drifts over her face. Her hair's tied in a high tail today. There's nothing to conceal her expression. Not that there's an expression to conceal. Her eyes, meeting Vi's, reflect nothing in the metalhazy glints.
She is a monolith, and monoliths don't flinch.
Neither does Vi. This isn't a place for shame. They've known each other too long and too bitterly for that.
"I know," Vi mutters. "I know it wasn't my business."
"Then why make it your business?"
"Because—" It's an effort to match Sevika's stare "Because you and him... it's like you're stuck. Stuck on him. Stuck to him. He's bad news, Sevika. Not just for you, but everyone." She takes a shuddery breath, trying to keep the kneejerk anger out. "Whatever you're getting out of it, you can get better elsewhere."
"You offering, Vi?"
The near-flinch becomes a flush. "That's not what I—"
Except Sevika's not challenging her. Her demeanor's the same as when she and Vi used to spar: calm, level, blunt.
The bond between them doesn't go deep. Can't—given their convoluted history. Yet territorial as Sevika is, she takes care of her turf. Looks out for her own. Since Vi's return to the Lanes, she's treated her... not as an ally, but as a fellow Trencher.
They've both known hardship and come out stronger. They both understand that when disaster hits, it can make enemies out of friends—and friends out of enemies. 
Vi and Sevika are neither. They inhabit a shadowy zone in between. But that zone has its own language, and it's a clean one. No deadweight. No dredged-up debts.
Just the give-and-take of hard-hitting truth.
"It's funny," Sevika says. "The way folks throw that word around. Better. They're always thinking of what-ifs. What could be, instead of what is. Me, I like the facts. What's real, not what may come to pass."
"What's real is he's using you," Vi snaps. "Same as he uses everybody. He doesn't love you, Sevika."
"Love." Sevika's lip curls up at one corner. "What’s love got to do with it, little girl?"
"I—what?"
"You say Zaun's my big religion? Well, let me tell you. Love's yours. And it's got you—you, Jinx, Silco—so twisted up in knots, you're a fucking mess."
"I'm not a—"
"A fucking mess," Sevika repeats, and the tone brooks no argument. "All of you. That's the problem. You've got no perspective. No sense of self. No clue what's what. Everything's love, and you tote that word around like junkies with a fix. As if it's the answer to everything. The cure-all. Well, let me break it to you: it's not. Not even close."
"But—" Vi is stunned. "Then what's it for? What's the point?"
"There is no point," Sevika snaps. "Love's not a solution. It's not even a problem. It's just an emotion. And it's not the only one. There's rage. There's grief. There's hate. And they're just as real. Just another part of living." Her jaw hardens. "I loved my sister, Vi. Loved her enough that I'd strangle anybody who'd put a hand on her. Not because she was the best woman in the world—and she was—but because she was the best part of me. She was my family, same way Jinx is yours. When I lost her, I went to war. Didn't care if it was Enforcers, or Topside, or the whole goddamn world. I was ready to tear the planet down. Because I'd already been torn apart. I didn't have anything left."
"Sevika," Vi says, but doesn't finish.
She's been where Sevika has. She understands.
"I was broken," Sevika goes on. "I thought, without love, I'd stay broken. I was wrong. There's a whole lot more to life than that. And Silco..."
Her cadence doesn't waver. But there's a different undercurrent. Something raw, and blisteringly real.
"We had a thing, once," she says. "A shortlived thing. But that's the least of our history, Vi. It's not why I follow him. And it's not why I was with him last night."
"Why, then?" Vi's throat is tight. "Why stay with him?"
"Because… when I was broken, he knew what to do with the brokenness. He didn't ask me to be someone else. Didn't try to put me back together. He took me as I was. Because he understood that grief doesn't just end. It can't. There's no escaping it. But you can't let it end you, either. People have it worse; they have less. Me? I had more. When I had Nandi, I had everything. When I lost her, I lost it all. And what's left was an empty space, and filling it with something. Something that'd last the distance." She lets off a breath. A single strand of smoke uncurls. "Silco gave me that. He put his life in my hands. He laid his cause at my feet. He had faith in me. And that faith meant something."
"A way to go on," Vi says.
"That's the best anyone can ask for." Sevika smiles, and her hard face fills with soft lines. "Love's a fine thing, Vi. But it can't protect your family. It can't keep them safe. You gotta fight for that. And when you've fought as long as I have—taken more lives than you've seen years—it's not about the love. It's about what's left. About doing your part to keep it standing."
"Even if it means dying?"
Sevika doesn't miss a beat. "It's never about dying, Vi. It's about the life you choose before that."
"Silco can't give you a life."
"I know." Sevika's smile dwindles. The softness and hardness don't. "But he's given me everything else. The rest? I'll make do. My sister taught me how."
Vi says nothing. She's run out of arguments. Run, too, out of anger.
They sit in silence, watching the afternoon unfold.
22 notes · View notes
oediex · 7 months ago
Text
I have a tray I use for dinner, sitting on the couch, watching Netflix or YouTube, that I found in a thrift store not long ago. Today it carried my vegetable soup, topped up with fried tofu, and a small plate with some pita bread as my body yearned for starch. A glass of orange juice accompanied my dinner as always.
It is a wooden tray, painted green, with a pattern of plant stalks and smallish leaves adorned with some kind of blue berry. It appears to be homemade, the paint fairly rough and the sides of the tray worn down in places such that the underlying white primer and wood peaks through. It is beautiful nonetheless. As per the etymology of the word 'amateur', it was clearly made with love.
I wonder about the history of this tray. Who made it and why. How it ended up in that thrift store right as I was passing through, and how not a single other person saw the charm that it exudes. I am grateful, though, that it ended up in my possession, that it caught my eye amongst a collection of discarded stuff, and that its simple beauty, its lovely rusticity, never fails to lift my spirits as I go about my daily life.
4 notes · View notes
foldingfittedsheets · 5 months ago
Text
When deciding who to work for there is a sliding scale of employers that goes from lil mom and pop shops up to corporate monoliths. I have worked at both ends of the spectrum and I can pretty definitively say that tiny businesses are hands down the most insane employers.
The sweet spot is a place that has like 10-20 stores; that’s the best possible work environment. They’ll be polished enough to have protocols that make work structured, but not so bogged down with bureaucracy that nothing can ever get done.
This story is not from that sweet spot. This story is from my time working at Oil and Vinegar. Now, like many little franchise stores, the idea was solid. There was on tap imported olive oil and vinegar and it was really delicious. Top shelf. Unfortunately, each location was like the Wild West because owners varied wildly.
My owner was the human embodiment of Mr. Krabbs. His eyes were just constant dollar signs. Throughout my training he informed me of the price of every single piece of equipment I touched and how much it cost to replace it.
He had cameras set up to watch us, and an app on his phone to access the live feed. He’d call us to ask what we were doing when he’d just checked a camera to make sure we were being honest.
Now, the trouble was he had two locations. His location further south did amazing. It was way more centrally located and got three times the foot traffic. The one I worked in was in the snottiest mall possible in Arizona and consequently the rent was through the roof.
It was not going well for my store. We didn’t get as much traffic, so there was only so much I could do in a day. I could dust, sweep, and wait for customers. I read a lot and was frank when he called to interrogate me. I always asked for additional tasks but he never had any. What could I do to prop up a failing business?
But this man was convinced there was some Secret Reason that the store I was in was doing worse. He crunched numbers, looked at staff, and eventually hit upon the most insane possible solution.
We used too much toilet paper.
We were probably stealing toilet paper! Bleeding him dry one single ply square at a time! How dare we need to use the bathroom?! His south location used half as much toilet paper as we did, we must be thieving little monsters!!!!
Friends. The south location was populated entirely by men. My location had three people on staff who had to sit to pee. It was so blindly transparently the source of the discrepancy but this man was convinced we were making off with toilet paper to bankrupt him.
So he implemented what he believed to be an entirely reasonable response to this base treachery. We were allowed to have one roll of toilet paper. At any given time, one roll was permitted to us. This was so transparently unhinged that we protested but he insisted. If we were low on toilet paper we needed to call him to drop off a roll that he brought from his home. Smiling jovially, he assured us he lived so close by that it would be no problem!
When we needed to call him often for more he started tearing his hair out. What were we using toilet paper for?! Why wasn’t his genius plan to stop our scandalous waste working??!
Finally, the manager, the only man on staff had to pull the owner aside and be like, “Look, man, their bladders are smaller. They need to wipe every time they pee. They need to pee even more on their period. Is this really the hill you want to die on?”
Yes. It was. The manager was fired unrelated reasons and denounced as a traitor. The toilet paper ration lasted until I quit and probably until the store closed six months later.
5K notes · View notes
love-that-we-were-in · 9 months ago
Text
lighting the fuse might result in a bang
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
pairing: frat!luke castellan x reader summary: Silena thinks you need to start blowing off some steam. You think you just need a fresh victory and Luke Castellan is the perfect opponent. word count: 5.3k warnings: smoking, drinking, usual college party stuff.
author's note: brought to you by my personal deep dark history with boys in hats. also i haven't gotten drunk in like 4/5 years so i don't remember what it's like so this was interesting. also i don't know anything about frats OR smoking. have the most fun <3
When Silena mentions a party you could go to, you jump at the offer, brain fuzzing at the edges where you’ve been locked in on flashcards all afternoon. It’s something you’ve started to navigate better this year, remembering to have fun after a year of non-stop focus. Silena makes it easier - a social butterfly with no qualms about dragging you out of the library when she thinks you’re pushing yourself too hard - and there’s no harm in listening to her without protest sometimes. 
“Do you even know who’s throwing this one?” You ask as she’s leading you through campus, rubbing at your arms to fight the fall chill. “I do not want a repeat of March.” 
“Have some faith in me. I’ve started vetting my sources.” 
Both of you shiver, the memory of a night spent outside the Stolls’ cramped dorm still haunting you six months later. You’re not overly familiar with this side of campus, turning away from the usual halls and towards the sorority housing, but Silena walks the path with ease, arm looped through yours.
The walk seems to have cleared your head, the music as you approach shaking off the last of the static. You’ve been here before, borrowing notes from a teammate, but it’s different like this, all pumping bass and cheers from the kitchen. Clarisse waves at you from across the room, beer in hand, and you mutter to Silena that you’re going to grab a drink. She nods, making a beeline for Drew Tanaka. You assume that’s who the invitation came from originally.
There’s a different energy to the kitchen, not quieter by any means but less noisy. Less concentrated, maybe, with twenty different conversations happening at once and nothing you have to pay attention to. Most people you don’t recognise, a group from your first year stats class huddled together near the sink, and the Stolls off to the side pointing at every new person they see. 
Mixing your drink is an easy fix, the kitchen island covered in more choices than you’ve seen in a while, and you savor the first few sips. Between class and swimming, you’ve barely drank since the semester began and the burn of vodka isn’t as numbed as you wish it was. Still, a drink is a drink so you refill it before returning to the thick of the party. 
Clarisse takes it upon herself to drag you away from the conversation you end up trapped in with Lee Fletcher, quite literally taking hold of your elbow. You mutter an apology, however disingenuous, rolling your eyes in mock exasperation as he smiles grimly. 
“I have no idea how you talk to that lot,” she says when you’re far enough away. “They’re all boring.” 
“Lee’s great. He always lends me notes from the lectures I miss.”
She laughs, pushing you into another room. “He’s trying to swindle a date out of you and you’re using him for lecture notes.” 
You shrug. There’s nothing wrong with Lee, except that Clarisse is a little right when she says most of your classmates are boring. It’s probably not intentional, and they definitely don’t realize it, but there’s this way they carry themselves around campus - half-nervous and half-haughty. It’s not a great combination and it’s why you gravitate towards the people Silena meets. 
“We were wondering when we were going to see you next,” Chris says as he throws an arm over Clarisse’s shoulder. You still don’t quite know the story there, how Chris Rodriguez managed to sweet talk your stoic teammate. One day, you’ll find out - a drunken vow you made with Silena on your dorm room floor when Clarisse mentioned a boyfriend - but you’re content to let them enjoy their romance in peace for now. “Almost thought you’d succumbed to the dark side.”
“You’re not getting rid of me yet.”
“And thank god,” he knocks his cup against yours before gesturing to the far corner of the room. “Because we need someone to kick Castellan’s ass at beer pong.” 
“Whose?”
Turns out, Luke Castellan is the newest brother to ksig. There’s not much to know about Chris’ fraternity in your eyes, just the basics of all frats, and you know from last year that there’s always bound to be a hotshot that needs someone to pump the brakes on their ego. Usually, they’re on the younger side, with more money than sense and they don’t expect anything from your approach. Luke Castellan isn’t quite that, but he’s not far from it either.
While Chris talks to the boy who was about to play, you take the opportunity to size up your opponent. It comes naturally, a part of constantly competing, and it comes in handy in moments like this, when the element of surprise is a key factor to the situation going ahead. 
Fitted jeans, branded polo and a stupid snapback cap worn backwards to show how cool he is. Nothing you haven’t seen before, really, except there’s this focused glint in his eyes with each plastic ball he throws like he has to prove his worth here. It’s a simple practice, unnecessary for a silly party game, but there’s this serious set to strong shoulders that you’re curious about.
The same way you want to know about Clarisse’s relationship, you want to know what makes Luke Castellan, whoever he is, tick. 
“Are you trying to get alcohol poisoning, Rodriguez?” 
“I’m not playing you, Luke,” Chris says and you watch closely as the other boy tilts his head slightly to the left. “I just had to go and get the current undefeated champion on campus.”
There’s this moment that happens every time you play - those awkward seconds where everyone looks completely past you to anyone else, anyone more noticeable. You count on it, occasionally, so it takes you a moment to process the way Luke’s gaze slides to you, drinks you in before he nods towards the other end of the table. 
Chris mutters a quiet “you got this,” as you brush past him, handing him your drink. You’re not delusional enough to think you can get away with mixing your drinks this early in the game. 
It takes two of Luke’s shots for you to land your first, his last hour of playing an advantage you accounted for. He’s not getting sloppy, not in the slightest, but he’s at the point where he’s a little worse for wear - a tired arm and hazy mind - and you take the chance you have at a false sense of security, taking your losses on the chin before playing the game to win. 
Within seven shots between you, you can see Luke start to get restless. How he reevaluates the table in front of him, his three empty cups to your four. Part of you really wants to knock that hat off his head, as if it’ll give you more of an insight into his mind. Instead, you wait for what you know is coming, a slight miscalculation that has the plastic ball rolling off the table to land at someone’s feet. 
Chris hands you a fresh one and you take in the way Luke swallows, jaw clenching as you line up your next shot. Whether he knows it or not, you’ve just been handed your win.
Clarisse cheers, handing you one of the cups from in front of you as everyone yells. You both chug what’s left of them, the bitter taste of cheap beer drowned out by victory, and as soon as that’s done, she throws herself back into Chris’ arms. Laughing, you turn around to find another drink, only to be met by Luke standing beside you.
“Are you about to be a sore loser?” 
He chuckles and it’s different like this. His eyes are brown, which you didn’t know five minutes ago, and his hair is dark from the little wisps of it you can see peeking out underneath his hat. You consider telling him that the hat makes him look lame, but then he’s leaning down to whisper anyway. “I expect a rematch.” 
It’s quiet and heavy and you wonder if anyone can tell that your blood feels like it’s on fire. It’s nothing, really, and it takes more effort than you want to respond. 
“Then expect to lose.”
The only saving grace to the exchange is that Luke looks a whole lot more affected by it, a blush crawling up his neck as you take the drink nearest to you and leave to find your roommate once more. 
*
Losing never used to get to you. Not like this, at least, where everything sort of feels like a precipice and you’re waiting for the next loss to fall on your shoulders alone. It was meant to be an easy game, a warm-up, for when the season started in earnest and you couldn’t afford to be incohesive. There’s always a learning curve, new starters and new competition, but in no world should it have caused this. 
Silena tells you to let it go, throwing yet another outfit on her bed as she gets ready. When you saw her at lunch, Clarisse told you to just push harder during practice. Sometimes you’re not even sure how you can be friends with both of them, how they can be friends with each other either. Unfortunately, it becomes very clear when Clarisse knocks on the door that night. 
“Why aren’t you ready?” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
She tuts at you, digging through the pile of clothing on Silena’s bed before throwing a dress at you. “Get dressed.” 
“You can’t make me,” you protest, the black fabric scrunching in your fist. You’ve borrowed it before, for a party last year you don’t remember very well, and you don’t even want to consider why it’s the one Clarisse selected. You turn to your roommate, looking for backup, only to find her with a pair of your shoes in her hands. “Are you seriously going to make me?” 
In unison, they raise a singular eyebrow each and it’s unsettling enough that you let go of all will to fight them. Today may as well just be full of losses that you can mourn tomorrow.
It’s only when you arrive at the party that you realize you have no idea who’s throwing it. Or who’s going to be there. Distantly, you really hope it’s a stranger Silena met on her way around campus - full of people you’ve ever met and will never see again. You could find someone nice enough to blow off some steam with before going on your merry way. 
When Clarisse yells at her boyfriend, you let out a huff as both he and Luke Castellan turn around. 
Since your first meeting, you’ve learned a few more things about Luke. He’s from Connecticut. He was responsible for half of Drew’s sorority coming down with the flu during freshers week. He’s in pre-med. He’s the reason Professor Chase introduced a ban on energy drinks in his lectures (one hundred students simultaneously opening a can of Redbull each was, apparently, mildly disconcerting). Most importantly, he’s always wearing that stupid cap. 
You try to equate the things you know with the Luke standing in front of you. Some of it makes perfect sense - Professor Chase and Connecticut - and some of it unsettles you, but it’s all true. Freshers and pre-med and track meets. Focusing on the distracted way he taps on his beer bottle instead of Clarisse greeting Chris, you kind of want to find out a whole lot more. 
“Fancy a rematch?” 
It’s the first thing he’s said to you all night, twisting the cap off a fresh beer before handing it to you. Then doing the same with his own. You pretend not to notice the movement of it, the few short seconds where you can get away with staring at the shine of silver rings in low light. Taking a sip, you crinkle your nose. 
“I’m not really in the mood,” you mutter and, at the very least, the beer is cold and you chug half of it before you even notice you’ve done it. “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” 
There’s seconds before you notice it, how his eyes shift from slightly curious to intense. They don’t change much but standing in front of him, you can tell when they go from relaxed to focused. How his back straightens and shoulders roll back just so. You should go and find something stronger to drink. Maybe even see if Lee Fletcher is nearby.
You stay put.
“It’s just a bit of friendly competition,” Luke shrugs, unknowing of how it echoes in your skull. How that’s all today was ever meant to be. Leave it to him to dig the knife in again just as the tightness in your chest was starting to ease. “But I guess you just can’t handle it.” 
“I’d kick your ass in a rematch. I’m doing you a favor.” 
It’s obviously the wrong thing to say, Luke’s eyes brightening as the words push past your lips. The beer you drank way too fast is forming words before you even know what they are.
“You can always choose something else for me to beat you in,” he says, like it’s an offer, something gracious that you should be grateful for. “I’m easy.” 
“How many beers have you had?” 
“Three, I think?” 
Silena would tell you it’s a stupid idea - you have a coaching session at 9am and you haven’t gotten drunk since the party where you met Luke - and she would be right. But you need a win tonight, something guaranteed, and there’s this itch that crawls under your skin the longer you stare at the boy in front of you. 
So you say it anyway. 
“I bet I could outdrink you.” 
“I’d like to see you try.”
He waits as you down two more beers in quick succession, nursing his own as you do. A clink of your bottles against one another, followed by the final sip you each take and it’s finally a competition. 
The night continues, you and Luke almost joined at the hip. It’s to keep track, you tell yourself, talking to a kid that might be in your organic chem class. If the kid looks at you weird for pouring two drinks, only to hand one to Luke in silence, that’s probably just the alcohol misreading things. Only once, when you’re deep in conversation with Lee does Luke pass you a beer, eyebrow raised when Lee gives him a glare. You think that might’ve been drink eight. 
By the time Chris finds you both again, you’ve thrown yourselves onto the couch on the outskirts of the room. Someone’s abandoned coat is thrown over your legs in a mediocre attempt to preserve some dignity in the dress you’re wearing and Luke’s hat has twisted to the side. You’re sure neither of you has drunk a sip in ten minutes.
“You guys doing okay?” 
“We’re drunk,” you say and you can’t tell if it’s a whisper or a shout. “I’m winning.” 
“You’re not winning,” Luke turns his head to glare and you blame the alcohol on the attention you pay to the slope of his nose. “Neither of us have finished these drinks.” 
“Are you going to?” 
He glances down at the cup in his hand, half empty. You can see it, the hesitation, before he places it on the floor by his feet, shaking his head. “Are you?” 
The nice thing to do would be to give up, call it a draw and appreciate that you managed to have fun despite the bad day that had preceded it. However, you like to win. So you grit your teeth before drinking the final three sips, tilting the empty cup towards him so he can see the proof. It takes you a second to remember you have to actually swallow in order to drink, but you do and Luke scrunches his nose. You kind of want to kiss it as a way to smooth the skin back out.
“That’s two wins to me, Castellan.” 
Chris shakes his head at you both. “I’m not calling either of you to make sure you’re alive in the morning.” 
*
It’s an almost unconscious action when you walk into Drew’s sorority house, how you wave Silena off in favor of scanning the crowd, searching for the one reason you agreed to show up in the first place. It takes a moment, pinks and blues and silvers all merging together in your eyeline until you spot him near the staircase, familiar black cap resting on his head. 
You’re already a little buzzed, the thrill of your final project this semester finally being handed in just hours ago, and it’s why you let yourself actually look at Luke for once. 
By this point, you’ve seen him in a polo and a flannel, always with jeans. Laidback. That’s what party Luke was. Tonight, though, it’s like he’s trying harder - baggy pants, like they’re resting a little too low on his hips, a white t-shirt, white trainers that you know are going to stain before the night ends and a slightly oversized leather jacket that doesn’t quite go with the hat you used to identify him. Maybe it’s something he does on purpose, ruining a good thing over comforting familiarity. Maybe you’ll ask him.
Luke looks up then, as if he has a sixth sense, and you kind of don’t know what to do with the slight wave he sends in your direction. You wouldn’t call him a friend, that’s for sure, but you nod in response before weaving through your classmates to the kitchen.
It takes two vodka cranberries for Silena to find you. And it takes four shots with people you’ve never met for Chris to ask if you’ve seen Luke anywhere. You tell him where you last saw him, maybe an hour ago, and he shakes his head like he’s already checked the entire house.
“Do you think you can let him know I’m heading out?” Chris asks, one arm looped around Clarisse’s waist, more for support than anything else. She was already unsteady when you arrived and you know by the flush in her cheeks that it’ll only take a couple more drinks for her to start throwing up. You nod at Chris, cradling your drink to your chest, and he mumbles a thanks while steering his girlfriend towards the door.
With both of them gone, it leaves you with little to do except go hunting for Luke. So that’s what you do, waving Lee off as he attempts to grab your attention from the couch. 
Focusing is a lot harder now, squinting over everyone’s heads in search of that damn hat. Nothing. You know he’s not in the kitchen, that’s definite, and you learn that he’s not in the garden either, Katie from your anatomy class staring at you bewildered as you explain your quest. 
There’s only one place left to check for Luke and you consider if it’ll be a worthwhile risk. It’s entirely possible that he’s already left, whoever he was locked in conversation with earlier with him maybe, and you’re searching an entire sorority house on the off-chance he’s still in the building. 
But you promised Chris. More than that, you refuse to let Luke Castellan beat you.
So you commit to the staircase, pushing past the line for the restroom upstairs. It’s quieter up here, not by much, but you can hear yourself think clearer. There’s three doors on your left, all closed, and you drain the remnants of your drink so it warms your blood and erases the small part of your brain still protesting. 
There’s two yells when you knock on the first door, both hurried and pitching higher as the words fade so you move on quickly. No one answers to the second door, so you crack it open enough to see inside. It’s dark and neat and completely untouched by whatever is happening below, so you let it click shut again. 
Luke is in the third room, you learn, pressing it open when there’s no response to your knock. The room itself is still orderly, but you find the boy you’ve been searching for sitting on the floor at the base of the bed, hat turned to the side and the sleeves of his jacket bunching carelessly where they’ve been pushed higher on his forearms. 
“Chris wanted me to tell you he took Clarisse home,” you blurt when it feels like you need to say something. “He couldn’t find you so…”
Luke waits. When it becomes clear that’s all you’re here for, he says, “Well, thanks for letting me know.” 
You’ve done your job. You can go back and enjoy the party downstairs, maybe make use of the empty room next door instead of remaining awkwardly in the doorway. 
You think about how Chris mentioned that Luke can recite pi to seventeen places while drunk. How you’re still beating him by two points. How there’s an ashtray on the floor beside Luke’s knee and it’s sort of considerate of him to use one when no one else would.
“Mind if I join you?” 
Being in an empty bedroom with a guy at a party isn’t unusual. You’ve had your fair share of them, rushed and quiet and mostly on a bed. Sitting on the floor with Luke is different, you find, a gravity to it than you can’t quite wrap your head around after so many drinks. It’s slow and languid and you don’t really say much of anything as your knee bumps against his thigh in an effort to get comfortable in the space.
No one told you Luke smokes. 
You tell him as much.
“It’s a bad habit,” he shakes his head, twisting a cigarette between his fingers and you both act like you’re not paying rapt attention to it. “I try to avoid making it one.” 
“I used to. Back in high school. Gave it up when I got accepted here.” 
He turns to face you then, head tilted so the visor of his slanted hat brushes his shoulder. “I would never have guessed you were a smoker.” 
It’s not said with judgment, just as an observation from the limited interactions you’ve had since the semester began. The focus in Luke’s gaze crawls up your spine and mingles with the alcohol you’ve yet to flush from your system. 
“You ever blown a smoke ring?” 
If you’re not challenging him, you don’t quite know what to make of Luke. It’s the thing you know most about him, the way his face shifts from victory into loss. The way it matches yours, stretches from his eyes to his jaw and into clenched hands. If you’re not challenging him, you can’t read him - you want to be able to read him in the low light of right now. 
“I bet I’m better at it than you,” you say after he answers. A short laugh escapes him, almost a huff, and it raises the skin on your arms when it meets the top of your ear. “Wanna see?” 
“I’ve only got one.” He waves the cigarette he’s been holding in front of your eyes. 
“We can share.” 
It’s a bad, terrible, absolutely stupid idea. 
“You’re on, Castellan.” 
As he lights the end of it, you wonder if he knows what the brief flame does for his cheekbones, for his jawline. Paints them in small, defined shadows that you might still see if you close your eyes. You almost want to mention it to him. You settle for watching his lips settle around it, the sinking of his cheeks on the inhale and the noise as he exhales. There’s an almost complete ring of smoke in the air.
Luke hands you the cigarette and you repeat his motions, a little quicker. A little smoother. The ring that leaves your lips is full, but less circular. 
Both of you pretend not to notice the other one staring.
You agree to best of three. You agree and you win by the tiniest margin and you hand Luke the little that remains as a consolation prize. He indulges in the last few drags and you watch him do it, looking nothing like the pre-med student you know he is. You think he could be dangerous like this, based on the way your stomach twists as he puts the cigarette out, how his head tilts back and the final wisps of smoke escape his mouth.
You aren’t as drunk anymore. 
You really wish you were.
It takes Luke a second to notice that you’ve moved at all, eyes still closed but he does, and the run of his gaze across your face is enough for you to seize the last of the alcohol in your bloodstream, pushing forward so you’re actually face to face with him, knees digging into the rough carpet beneath you. 
“Can I help you?” It’s low and a little ragged and this is the first time you’ve really noticed the thin, pale scar that stretches down the skin of his right cheek. It’s actually a little insane how pretty he is up close. 
“I think I want a little more than the glory of winning this time,” and half of your whisper is lost to Luke Castellan’s lips but it’s not that important anyway.
What is important is the warmth of his hand through your shirt, pressed into the skin that exposes itself as you shift even closer. It’s the slightly rough texture of his jaw underneath your palm, the way his breath hitches in tandem with yours and you both push through it anyway. It’s the unexpected catch of your finger on his cap and the way you give up on it entirely, finally snatching it off his head so it lands somewhere nearby. 
You’re not sure what you expected Luke’s hair to look like. Horrible, probably, with odd patches that lie weirdly flat and should be covered from view. It’s not this, wild dark curls that deserve to be seen. 
“You have curly hair?” You say it before you can think not to, so caught up in the discovery you’ve just made, and Luke squints at you, unsure. “I can’t believe you have curly hair.” 
He’s preparing a smart-ass comment, you know it by the way his teeth dig into his bottom lip, and that’s really just not going to work this time - not when he’s been lying for months behind a hat. So you do what any sane person would, twist your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck and trail your lips across his jaw like you’ll die if you don’t.
His hand hooks underneath your thigh and, when you bracket his waist between your legs, cool leather brushing against your knees, you think this might be the best victory you’ve experienced yet.
*
Silena knows something is up when you refuse to speak to her about the party. There’s few secrets you’ve kept from each other since meeting, and even less since Clarisse got involved. It’s pointless to try, mostly, since they all spill out of you when the lights go out and you’re left with each other's company. You almost forgot how annoying she could be when she’s pushing for information.
“Don’t think I’m going to tell you either,” you say when Clarisse joins you in the library a week after the party. “I am a fortress of secrets.” 
“I know you hooked up with Luke.” 
“Seriously?” 
She rolls her eyes, passing you the book you’d asked her for during practice last night. “Calm down. Chris told me. I’m down ten bucks now.” 
“You bet on it?”
“Of course we did, it’s our brand.” 
“I’m not telling Silena,” you whisper again, frowning at your notes. You wonder if Clarisse is aware you haven’t actually spoken to Luke since that night. “She’ll make it a big deal for nothing.” 
“I won’t tell but you should probably figure out what happens next. There’s a party at ksig tomorrow night before everyone goes home for the holidays.” You tap your pen against the textbook. Clarisse pushes a slip of paper towards you. Someone’s phone buzzes to your left. “Think about it.”
When she’s long gone, you grab the paper she left from the table. It’s wrinkled and you smooth it as best you can beneath your fingertips. Blue ink, messily scrawled, and you commit it to memory. Closing your textbook, you leave it pressed between chapters seven and eight. 
The party is loud, louder than you’re prepared for after flaking out on so many since your first one last year. Silena brushes past you once you arrive, shoving your shoulder just enough that it twinges and you frown. You didn’t speak a word on the way here and the silent treatment is starting to drive a little crazy. 
It feels silly now, in a place so crowded, and you breathe deeply. Someone points you in the direction of the kitchen after multiple attempts at asking and you miss the light chaos of throwing up outside the Stolls’ dorm with your best friend. 
You grab a beer, using the table edge to pop the cap off, and it helps to ease the tightness in your chest at how unfamiliar this all is. You’re not sure you could even find the restroom, let alone a singular person.
Pushing back into the bulk of the party, you vow to leave if you don’t find him before you finish your beer. There’s a project you have to start looking into for next semester that could be a good use of time tonight. 
If anyone tried to convince you that most of campus was here, you’d be willing to believe them. A drink raised in Lee’s direction, a nod to Ethan from last years’ stats class, a half-hearted smile at Rachel, who raises an eyebrow at you like she knows something no one else does. 
And maybe she does, because you turn away from her to find Luke just feet away, gesturing animatedly to the guy next to him. There’s a beer in his hand and a hat on his head and his phone number so deeply etched in your mind since last night that you hardly think about it until you’re standing next to him again, drink placed on a table somewhere along the way.
“Hi,” he smiles and his scar shifts with it. He turns to the guy from before. “We’ll catch up later, man.”
“Have I ever told you that I hate that fucking hat?” 
“I sort of got that when you threw it across the room.” His lips wrap around the rim of his bottle and you think you can be normal about it, go back to the way things were, until he smirks just slightly and you know you can’t. 
“You’re such a sore loser, Castellan,” you mutter as you push yourself up to snatch it from his head. He doesn’t comment, lets your fingers brush through his curls until they’re a complete mess instead of compacted. He glances down at the cap in your hand and mutters, “And what is your genius plan for my hat?”
It’s a really fucking good question. Short of getting it off his head, you didn’t know what you were going to do. It’s one thing to throw it across an empty room in the dark, another thing entirely to abandon it to a frat party. So you choose the next best thing - placing it on your own head and daring him to question it. 
“I guess that can work,” Luke says and it sounds like a promise soaked in laughter. 
Neither of you find it as funny when he has to tip the visor upwards to kiss you.
838 notes · View notes
saythenametotheworld · 3 months ago
Text
Heartbreak Hotel | prologue.
Tumblr media
“Every single day is dreadfully boring when working at a hotel in the middle of nowhere. That is until an enigmatic guest arrives, seeking not a room nor directions, but to hear stories about your past relationships.”
one | two | three | four | five
Genre: anthology, romance, smut Pairing: SEVENTEEN Hip-hop Unit x Reader Warnings: mature themes Notes: 2k words. 1 of 4 parts. Listening to Heartbreak Hotel by Tiffany Young. This is a work of fiction. I do not know them personally and do not claim they would ever behave like they were portrayed in this story.
Tumblr media
“This place is the worst,” you muttered for what felt like the hundredth time today, releasing a long sigh. Complaining wouldn’t change anything, but it became a habit—one that had kept you going for the past six months. Every month, you swore you’d quit after getting your paycheck. And yet, here you were, still stuck at this hotel in the middle of nowhere.
No one asked you to take this job. In fact, your friends and family had tried to talk you out of it. But you’d accepted the promotion to concierge after four long years of work, eager for the new title, even if it meant moving away from everything you knew. At first, you thought the distance wouldn’t matter. A month in, you were already regretting it.
If it wasn’t for Elena—the 58-year-old branch manager who’d smugly told you that you’d quit like everyone else—you might’ve walked out weeks ago. But you had your pride, and leaving now would feel like admitting defeat.
Your eyes drifted to the tall grandfather clock in the hall, and you felt a small flicker of relief. Your shift was almost over. Though you didn’t have much to look forward to in your quarters—maybe a movie on your laptop or some mindless scrolling through your phone—anything was better than sitting in the dead silence of the lobby.
Another sigh escaped as you leaned your head into your hand, eyes drifting shut. Just as you started to relax, the sharp sound of knuckles rapping against the wooden counter made you jolt upright.
“Yes!” you stammered, straightening your posture as you met Elena’s stern gaze. “I wasn’t sleeping. I was just… resting.”
Elena’s disapproving sigh said it all. “You’ve got two more hours left in your shift. Get it together. Someone’s coming.”
“Yes, ma’am,” you replied, forcing a smile you didn’t feel.
As if on cue, the front doors swung open, and in walked a man in a sharp navy-blue suit. He glanced around, squinting slightly as he adjusted to the dim lighting of the lobby. The sun had just set, casting the room in shadows. Behind him, the bellboy followed with his luggage.
The man’s gaze fell on you so suddenly it caught you off guard. You quickly straightened up, flashing a polite smile. He raised an eyebrow in acknowledgment as he approached the desk.
He placed a hand over the wooden counter, looking not at you but at your nameplate. When his gaze flitted back to you, he said your name with an inquiring tone.
“Yes, that’s me,” you replied, still smiling. “Would you like to book a room for the night, Mr…?”
“Choi Seungcheol,” he finished, his voice smooth but distant. “And no, I’m not here for a room. I’m here to ask how much it would cost to book your services for the evening.”
You blinked, caught completely off guard. “Excuse me?” you managed, the words coming out sharper than you intended. You fought to keep your composure, waiting for him to explain himself.
“I apologize,” he said quickly, holding up a hand in a gesture of peace. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I can see why that sounded inappropriate.”
You raised an eyebrow, giving him a chance to clarify.
“This might sound unusual, but I’m in need of company for the evening,” he said carefully, as if searching for the right words.
You rolled your eyes, dropping any pretense of politeness. Crossing your arms, you responded coolly, “You’re in the wrong place, sir. We don’t offer that kind of service. But if you drive about half a mile north, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of places that do.”
“It’s not what you think,” he said, his tone steady but firm. He reached into his coat and pulled out a card, sliding it across the counter toward you. “I’m not asking for anything inappropriate. I just need someone to talk to. We wouldn’t be in a room—just here in the lobby, or perhaps the bar, if you prefer. And I’ll pay you by the hour. Just tell me the rate.”
You eyed the card but didn’t pick it up. “Why me? And what exactly do you want to talk about?”
“I’ll explain everything once you accept my offer,” he said, his eyes steady on yours.
“We’re done here,” you told him, pushing the card back to him. He was some CEO of a company you’d heard of but unfamiliar with.
“Fair enough,” Seungcheol replied, pocketing the card and pulling out a different one—this time, a credit card. “I’d like a suite please.”
You took the card, checking him in quietly. After handing him over to the bellboy, he left with a polite nod. “Thank you,” he said, his tone once again reserved, before disappearing down the hall.
The rest of your shift passed in a blur. After clocking out, you went to your quarters for a quick shower and a nap. When you woke, it was 9 p.m., and your stomach growled, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten.
You threw on a sweater and left your quarters, heading toward the employee pantry by the hotel restaurant. You ate with two other staff, talking quietly and laughing at some jokes.
“Here comes Leo!” said one of your coworkers, nodding at the pantry door where the hotel chef just walked in with a tray.
“Anyone in the mood for seafood pasta?” Leo grinned, setting the tray on the table.
“Cooking up the hotel’s stock again, Leo?” you teased lightly.
“Not at all,” he defended with a playful shrug. “A guest ordered some, so I made a little extra.”
You chuckled. “Right. Does Elena know?”
Leo waved his hands in mock horror. “I don’t do this all the time!”
“Relax, Leo. She’s just teasing,” another coworker said, laughing.
“Yeah, don’t sweat it,” you added, standing to clear your plate. “I’m heading back. Enjoy the pasta.”
“Leaving already? Sure you don’t want some?”
“I’m good, thanks,” you replied with a wave as you left.
The halls were quiet, as always, the soft hum of the air conditioning the only thing breaking the silence. As you made your way downstairs, you found yourself thinking about Seungcheol. His strange request lingered in your mind, replaying like a bad dream.
Why would a guy like him be asking for company? Doesn’t he have friends?
You shook your head, dismissing the thought. Just another eccentric rich guy who thought money could buy him anything. But even as you told yourself that, the way he'd said it kept bothering you. He hadn’t seemed sleazy or inappropriate. Polite, even. There was something else to it, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.
When you reached the lobby, you paused at the sight of Seungcheol sitting on one of the plush armchairs near the large bay windows. He wasn't looking at his phone or a book. Instead, he stared out at the dimly lit hotel grounds, hands folded, deep in thought. His navy blue suit from earlier had been traded for a more relaxed outfit—a simple gray sweater and slacks. He looked different. Less intimidating. Maybe even…lonely?
You frowned, realizing you had slowed your pace to a near stop, watching him from the shadows. Should’ve gone to a therapist, not here, you thought, reaching the bottom of the stairs.
You were half tempted to just ignore him and go on with your night, but something kept you rooted to the spot. What does he even want to talk about that he’d pay a stranger for it?
Your thoughts drifted back to your earlier frustrations—six months stuck in this place, no real connection to anyone, no escape from the monotony. Maybe that was why his request bothered you so much. You had your own share of unspoken things too.
Before you could change your mind, you took a deep breath and approached him. Seungcheol must have sensed your presence because he glanced up just as you stepped into view. His expression shifted slightly—surprise, maybe?—but he didn’t say anything, waiting for you to speak first.
“So,” you began, folding your arms across your chest defensively. “About your earlier request…”
Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, but his posture remained relaxed. “Yes?”
You shifted your weight, hesitating. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing here, but what exactly do you want to talk about? You said it wasn’t anything inappropriate, so mind explaining it to me?”
He studied you for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. Then, with a slight nod, he gestured to the seat across from him. “I understand your hesitation. Please, sit.”
You hesitated for a moment before sitting down, making sure to leave some space between the two of you.
Seungcheol leaned forward slightly, folding his hands together. “It’s really quite simple,” he began, his tone calm and measured. “I need someone to talk to. Not just anyone, but someone who doesn’t know me, who has no preconceptions. I’ve found that… strangers have a way of seeing things differently. Offering perspectives you wouldn’t get from friends or family. I thought you might be that person.”
You frowned, trying to understand. “Why me, though? I’m just some hotel concierge.”
He smiled faintly. “That’s exactly why. You’re just a concierge of a faraway hotel. You’re disconnected from my life, from my world. You don’t have an agenda.”
His explanation made sense, in a way. “And what exactly do you want to talk about?”
Seungcheol paused, his eyes flickering with a hint of something deeper. “Relationships,” he said quietly. “Your past relationships, to be exact.”
You felt your body tense. “Why? What does that have to do with anything?”
He sighed softly, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately—about life, about love, about the choices we make. I’m not looking for answers, just… perspectives. I thought you might be able to offer that.”
You stared at him for a long moment, trying to decide if you should just walk away. But something about his sincerity, the way he spoke about it, made you pause. 
“Alright,” you said at last, feeling equally nervous and curious. “I’ll tell you. But I’ve got questions too.”
Seungcheol’s expression softened. “Ask away.”
You crossed your legs, leaning back in your chair as you studied him. “What do you get out of this? Why go to all this trouble just to hear about someone else’s love life?”
He smiled slightly, though there was no humor in it. “Let’s just say I’m trying to understand something I can’t quite figure out. And sometimes, the best way to understand yourself is through someone else’s story.”
His words struck a chord with you, though you weren’t entirely sure why. You nodded slowly, still unsure where this conversation would lead but feeling oddly compelled to continue.
“Fine,” you said, exhaling. “I’ll bite. Where do you want me to start?”
Seungcheol leaned forward again, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat. “Start with the one you think about the most.”
You tilted your head a little, thinking. You’d had your fair share of relationships, but when he said that, the first name that came to mind was…
You glanced back at him. What exactly did this guy want to hear? Why were you even considering sharing something so personal with a stranger? Yet there was something about his calm patience, the way he wasn’t pushing—just waiting—that made you want to say more.
“Will I be hearing opinions and judgments from you or are you just gonna sit and listen?” you questioned, suddenly hesitating at the thought of being judged by a stranger.
“Unless you ask for an opinion, I’m just gonna sit and listen.”
You hummed. “Alright then. Do you know someone called Kim Mingyu?” You hadn’t said that name out loud in a long time, but suddenly, there it was, slipping through your lips like it had never left.
Seungcheol shrugged. “Doesn’t ring a bell.”
“Good, because he’s the kind of jerk who never knew what he wanted.”
To be continued in [Backburner]
339 notes · View notes
lewmagoo · 3 months ago
Text
we own the sky | rhett abbott
part one: ain’t no love in oklahoma
Tumblr media
series info: new parts will be uploaded every friday at 7pm est. want more? read the synopsis here. listen to the playlist here. see the posting schedule here.
description: in which you return to the place where you lost everything
warnings: 18+ only, heavy themes, character death, grief, blood and injury, angst with a positive ending, allusions to sex, eventual smut, inaccurate weather terms, please do not check my science lol this story requires some suspension of disbelief. i usually try not to say anything about reader's family in fics but i do mention them having an unnamed great-aunt, as it was necessary to the plot
pairing: rhett abbott x f!reader
notes: this story is inspired by twisters. you do not have to watch the movie in order to understand this story, because aside from the storm chasing aspect, it has nothing to do with the twister universe. i've been working on this story for 2 months straight, and it is my pride and joy. i am so excited for everyone to read it! without further adieu, here is we own the sky!
You never thought you would return to the place where you lost everything. 
When you left, you had sworn to yourself that you would never come back. This part of your life, the unspeakable tragedy you had endured, had to stay in the past where it belonged. And for six years, you managed to make yourself forget while you moved on with life.
You knew it wasn’t just you who had been affected by what happened. It had touched the lives of multiple people, shattering everything around them. But while they had stayed, you had decided to run. Away from the agony, away from the memories, away from the man you loved. It was better that way. At least, that was what you told yourself. 
Now you found yourself standing in the middle of the rolling plains of the place that you used to live, wisps of tall grass brushing against your legs as the breeze rushed over the earth. It was all so familiar, yet so foreign. You felt so out of place, like an alien that had just descended the sky and landed on Earth for the very first time.
As you bent to pluck a stalk of switchgrass, you were struck with a memory of the day you left. Sprawled out in the long grass, your first love lying at your side. Rhett Abbott. The man you had known since you were mere babies in the church nursery together. Saying goodbye to him was the hardest part of leaving. But in your heart of hearts, you knew this was the way it had to be. You couldn’t look at him without being reminded of all you had lost. Of all he had lost. 
“I wish you’d stay,” his voice, filled with longing, cut into the still morning air. Such a contrast to the chaos that had transpired in recent days.
“You know I can’t,” you whispered, afraid that if you spoke any louder, your voice would break, and you would succumb to tears.
“We can figure things out, you an’ me. Work through it together.”
“Rhett–”
“Fuckin’ twister took so much from us. Now you’re leavin’, too.” Defeat was evident in his voice.
You sat up, turning to look down at him. “We talked about this, Rhett. I have to leave.”
He sat up, too, nodding somberly. “Y’don’t have to. You just can’t stand the thought of facin’ reality. So you’re runnin’ from it.” Then he rose to his feet, grass crunching beneath him. “Not all of us have the luxury of bolting when things get tough, honeybee. The rest of us have gotta stay and face it head-on.”
Then he walked away, and you let him, knowing this would be the last time you would see him. A love lost. 
Yet here you were again, in the same field where your romance had ended. However, you weren’t here to see him. You had returned to tie up loose ends, and face the past you had spent the last handful of years running from.
Rhett had been right about one thing. You needed to face it all head-on. But you weren’t sure if you had the strength to do so.
Being back in your hometown of Wabang, Oklahoma was a surreal experience. Nothing and everything had changed all at once. Dorothy McIntyre still owned Mac’s Diner on Main Street. Mrs. Simmons still tended to her rose garden every single day, keeping it in pristine condition. The local Baptist church still looked exactly the same as the day you left. 
It felt like the town was stuck in time.
But there were also some changes. A new bar had opened up in town. A coffee shop, too, which was quite the upgrade. Even though life was slow moving here, it still continued on, just like it did everywhere else. 
Coming back was never something you thought was in the cards for you, but a handful of your family members had remained here when you left. Including your great-aunt. Sadly, she had recently passed away, and you’d surprised yourself by willingly volunteering to go sort through her belongings and prepare her house to be sold.
You had a good portion of vacation days saved from your job at the National Weather Service Headquarters, and you decided to take them while you had the chance. Instead of going on a fun getaway, you were cleaning out a house that was just a few steps down from a hoarding house. 
Your poor aunt had gotten rather forgetful in her old age, and had let so much clutter accumulate. Her declining physical health and mental capacity had inhibited her from cleaning, and, unfortunately, her children were not the most diligent when it came to looking after their mother, so no one had helped her with clearing any of the clutter when she was alive. 
That was where you came in. And you certainly had your work cut out for you. But you didn’t mind too terribly. You were glad to have a break from work. Monitoring weather was quite literally a 24/7 thing. You loved your job, but you often felt as if you were running about like a chicken with its head cut off.  
Especially now. It was late spring, and the weather had been wild and unkempt. It had a mind of its own, and with all the freak storms ripping through seemingly every state in the US, the National Weather Service was extremely busy. 
And here you were, in the heart of Tornado Alley, which had seen a record-breaking uptick in tornado activity this season. You couldn’t deny that the thought of being here during this season made your anxiety skyrocket. 
Where you lived now, in Maryland, tornadoes weren’t commonplace. They happened, yes, but not nearly as often as they did in your home state of Oklahoma. 
You had once loved studying the phenomenon of twisters. There had been a time when they fascinated you. A time when you chased after them to analyze their data. And then, one terrible, fateful day, while observing one of those vicious twisters, the unthinkable happened. 
Six Years Ago
“This one’s gonna be a big one. I can feel it,” Rhett’s voice was laced with electric excitement. He was a live wire, blue eyes wide and glimmering with his eagerness. 
His excitement rubbed off on you. You loved doing this together. It was what you were meant to do. “I can, too,” you replied with a grin, bouncing on the balls of your feet. 
He leaned in, his gaze flickering to your lips before he ducked his head to kiss you languidly. “Ready to wrangle this twister?” He asked. 
“As I’ll ever be.”
“Could’ya get a room?” Another voice cut across the site, interrupting your moment. 
Rhett scowled as he looked over your shoulder to find his brother approaching. “Just for that, I’m kissin’ her again.” He pulled you in and planted another kiss on you, dialing it up to disgust Perry all the more.
You shoved at Rhett’s chest, giggling when you parted. “Maybe let’s not gross out everyone within a ten-mile radius,” you joked, though you still leaned in to steal one last peck from him. 
“When you two are done neckin’, you might wanna pay attention to the radar. Winds are pickin’ up,” Perry explained, tapping the screen that was currently resting on the tailgate of Rhett’s truck.
“Think this one’s gonna touch down?” Came the voice of Rebecca, Perry’s wife, as she approached, tugging her ball cap down over her blonde ponytail. 
“Look at them clouds. It’s gotta,” Rhett mused, motioning toward the sky. Angry, black clouds roiled in the distance. Perry was right, the wind was picking up. Although it wasn’t cold, it still sent a shiver down your spine.
Lightning crackled across the gray backdrop, and thunder subsequently rumbled in the distance. As you felt the first drops of cool rain, you locked eyes with Rhett. His face broke into a grin.
“Let’s get goin’!” He called out, retrieving his worn felt hat, the one you’d gotten him on his eighteenth birthday, and placing it atop his head. 
You found yourself laughing with glee as you moved to scurry to the passenger seat of his rickety old GMC Sierra that had seen more storms than you could count. As you wrenched the door open, the sound of scrambling footsteps alerted you that someone was approaching quickly. You turned to find Lydia, your best friend, running toward you, her French braids bouncing wildly about.
“Don’t forget this!” She called out, shoving a walkie-talkie into your hand. Her own remained clipped to the waistband of her cargo pants. 
“Thanks!” You replied. “You riding with us or with Perry and Bec?”
“I’ll ride with them, since they’ve got more room and all,” she told you. Unlike Rhett’s truck, Perry’s had a backseat.
“Okay, see you after the storm. Be careful, alright?” You surged forward and gave her a quick hug. Your friendship went way back to childhood, when you had met each other in kindergarten. You had been inseparable ever since. With your shared fascination with the weather, it was only natural that she would decide to chase twisters alongside you.
“Let’s go to that new ice cream place when we’re done!” She suggested when you parted. 
“Sure, I’ll mention it to Rhett. See ya in a bit!” With that, you yanked the truck door open and climbed inside, while Lydia rushed off to get into Perry’s truck. 
As you settled in the seat, you set your walkie down in the cupholder and grabbed the monitor you used to keep an eye on the weather radar. There, at the top of the screen, you saw the red banner that listed which counties had just been put under tornado watches. 
Glancing back up at the sky, your heart quickened in your chest. While it wasn’t guaranteed that a twister would touch down, it was a very high possibility, especially with the string of storms that had ripped through the area lately. 
“Let’s go chase this son’bitch,” Rhett murmured as he settled into the driver’s seat, tugging his seatbelt into place. He turned the key, and the truck roared to life. Without wasting a single moment, he threw the gear into drive and peeled out of the vacant lot you’d all been congregating in. 
He kept to the east of the storm, offering you the best vantage point. Most storms moved northeast, at thirty to forty miles per hour, so you had to move fast to keep up. Rhett stepped on the accelerator, wasting no time. He was vibrating with adrenaline beside you, and it was infectious. 
He always had been a bit of an adrenaline junkie. When he was in high school, he’d started bull riding competitively. He loved the thrill, the danger, the electricity he felt atop a thousand-pound animal. 
Chasing twisters was similar to bull riding. Trying to hold on for dear life as an angry, churning force threatened to toss you through the air like a rag doll. Once he’d had a taste, he couldn’t get enough. 
His love of the thrill and your fascination with weather made you a dream team. 
Turning it into a family affair wasn’t necessarily the goal, but Rebecca found the phenomenon of tornadoes fascinating, and Perry was simply along for the ride, so the four of you started storm chasing together. 
And of course, Lydia had been on board from the moment you suggested it. Much like Rhett, she also loved thrill seeking, and was content to join your little team. She was particularly good at analyzing storm data. Her entire motivation was figuring out how twisters worked. 
Meteorology was a science that was relatively new. While the study of weather itself had been around for millennia, it didn’t quite progress until scientists began utilizing computers to analyze meteorological data. 
Even with all the progress that had been made, tornadoes were difficult to study. Things like hurricanes and tropical storms were easier to predict and monitor. But not twisters. They were wild, uncontrollable beasts that could touch down at any moment and wreak all sorts of havoc in mere seconds.
Lydia wanted to learn all she could about the phenomena, and so did you. Your shared interest allowed you to work very well together. 
You were so grateful for the little group you worked with. Four people you loved very much. You’d known Rhett, Perry, and Lydia your entire life, of course, and Rebecca was a newer addition. She’d joined you in the last five years, but she was an excellent asset with her history as a news meteorologist. 
What a merry band of storm chasers you were, heading into the face of danger, hoping to encounter one of the most mysterious weather anomalies in existence. 
“How’s she lookin’, darlin’?” Rhett asked, one hand reaching over to squeeze your thigh lovingly. 
You gazed down at the screen in your lap, paying attention to the large highlighted region that showed which direction the storm was moving. The severity was mounting. 
“Pretty intense,” you answered. Then, as if on cue, the telltale sound of hailstones began to patter against the roof of the truck. Your face broke into a grin. 
Over the walkie, Lydia’s voice could be heard. “We’ve got hail!” She cried in excitement. 
The shift in temperature was a good sign. These were peak conditions for a tornado to form in. You grabbed the hand Rhett had placed on your leg, giving it a squeeze. He squeezed right back. 
Moments later, the hail died down, and you opened the truck window, listening. A crack of thunder in the distance. And then, a split second of utter silence. 
The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 
You turned your head, looking straight at Rhett. The blue of his eyes was bright as could be, shining with anticipation. 
And then, just beyond him, you saw it. 
“Holy shit.”
He glanced to his left and saw it too. A few hundred yards from you, in the open fields, a funnel cloud had begun to form. Your eyes never left it, staring at the sky, willing the funnel to touch down. 
“Come on, come on, come on.”
“We got touchdown yet?!” Rhett asked, eyes half on the road, half on the funnel. 
Almost there. Almost there. Almost there. 
And then, all at once, it made contact with the ground. Lydia was shouting through the walkie, and you grabbed the device to answer her. Your heart was pounding in your chest, your teeth chattering as adrenaline began to course through you. 
What a beautiful sight it was. Terrifying and destructive, but beautiful. 
“Goddamn, look at that,” Rhett breathed in awe. He kept his foot planted firmly on the accelerator, maintaining a fast pace, staying just ahead of the swirling tunnel of wind. 
But your spirit of wonder soon dissipated as you noticed something. “It looks like it’s getting bigger,” you remarked. The change was obvious. It was covering more ground. Moving faster and faster. 
Within seconds, your entire life was turned upside down. 
“Oh my God. Rhett…” Your voice failed you, coming out as more of a whisper. You gripped his arm, and he quickly brought both hands to the steering wheel, knuckles white. 
He gazed out at the approaching swirl, and he knew he was no longer chasing the storm. No, this time, the tides had turned. 
Now it was time to run. 
You scrambled for the walkie-talkie, fingers closing around the plastic, but it flew out of your hands as Rhett slammed on the brakes. You let out a yelp as you plummeted forward, seatbelt stopping you from hitting the dashboard. 
“We gotta find cover!” He shouted, throwing the gear into park and unbuckling his own seatbelt. His face was awash with fright, pale as could be. He pointed to your right. “Old Miller property’s over there. Maybe we can make it to the storm cellar!”
Terror-stricken, you scrambled to open your door, tumbling out onto the asphalt. As soon as you righted yourself, Rhett was grabbing you, hand tight on your bicep, dragging you across the road. Your boots crunched against gravel, but you couldn’t hear the sound over the roar of the wind.
It was so close you could feel it tugging at your clothes. A vortex threatening to swallow you whole. If it overtook you, you’d never make it out alive. 
Together, you dashed across an old wheat field, straight for the Miller farm. It had been abandoned for years, but the storm shelter remained, and it was your best chance at survival. 
You could see it just up ahead, jutting slightly from the ground. But your legs ached, and your lungs burned like fire as you struggled to take in gulps of air. So close yet so far. Just a little further. 
You’d never been so terrified in your life. You understood now what people meant when they said their life flashed before their eyes. Yours did at that moment, as you ran alongside the man you loved. 
Images of your family, memories of all the good times you’d had with Rhett, flashes of laughing and singing and being young and foolish and so full of wonder. Was it all for naught? 
“C’mon, baby! We’re almost there!” His desperate shout filled your ears. He yanked you toward him and you nearly lost your footing, and for one horrifying moment, you thought you were going to fall, but Rhett caught you in his strong arms, continuing on across the field. 
By the grace of the Almighty, you made it to the shelter. Rhett threw himself down, lifting the iron bar that was fastened across the rusted doors. Hinges squealed as he heaved them open, and he pulled you forward, urging you down the rickety old ladder into the abyss below. 
You scrambled down, and he followed, slamming the door shut as he did so. When you reached the end of the ladder, your feet hit the floor unsteadily, and you yelped as your foot gave out beneath you, ankle twisting painfully. But your injury was the least of your worries. 
In the inky darkness, Rhett landed beside you and reached out, grabbing you, pulling you close. 
“Rhett!” You sobbed, burying your face against his chest as he cautiously guided you away from the overhead doors. 
“I’ve got you!” He assured you, holding you tightly. He pulled you both to the damp ground, and you curled up beneath him as he laid his body atop your own. “I’m here, baby. I’m here.”
He held you, his large hands covering your ears as the violent storm raged above you. 
Often, tornadoes were described as sounding like a freight train, and you would agree with that statement, having witnessed so many of them. But right now, as you huddled beneath the ground right below the savage phenomenon, it didn’t sound like a train at all. 
It sounded like the world was coming to an end. 
You weren’t entirely certain how long you stayed down there, pressed against the earth, as Rhett shielded you. It felt like hours. Days. Weeks. 
And then, all at once, it stopped. 
The world went quiet again. Nature went back to its natural order. The danger had passed. 
You laid there for a few moments, both of you breathing hard, hearts racing. You were trembling. So was he. But you were alive. 
“Are you okay?” Rhett asked as he lifted his body from yours, kneeling beside you. 
You sat up, trying to find your voice. “Y-yeah. Are you?”
“I’m fine,” he breathed. 
And then, “Oh my God. Perry, Bec and Lydia!”
You hurried to stand, and Rhett grabbed your arm, leading you both through the dark, feeling for anything that might be in your path. Once he’d grabbed onto the ladder, he ascended it first, grunting as he reached up to open the doors. 
Daylight flooded the cellar, and you shielded your eyes for a moment before you took hold of the ladder yourself and began climbing. 
As you both emerged, the sight you were met with was harrowing. The old Miller farmhouse was entirely decimated, blown flat to the ground like a house made of popsicle sticks. The barn was destroyed, too, pieces of red painted wood littering the surrounding property. 
“Jesus fuckin’ Christ. That had to be an EF4. Maybe even a five,” Rhett said in utter disbelief, his eyes wide, jaw slacken. 
A sob tore itself from your throat as you turned, fully taking in the level of damage around you. There was seemingly no sign of Perry’s truck. 
“Do you think they found cover?” You asked, voice trembling. 
Rhett’s face was grim, but he still said, “‘m sure they did, they’re smart, they’re probably just hunkerin’ down in a ditch somewhere.” Then he grasped your hand. “Let’s head out to the road and see if we can fine ‘em.”
You intertwined your fingers with his and followed, but your stomach was in knots. What if your friends had been consumed by the storm? What if they were dead?
As you walked, you both called out for them, hoping they’d hear and yell back. But your voices bounced off of the eerily silent countryside. Such a contrast to the chaos that had just transpired. 
“They can’t have gone too far. They were right behind us,” Rhett spoke. You could hear the distress in his voice, although he was trying to keep himself steady for you. 
You scanned the horizon, and that’s when you saw it. A long ways off, the silhouette of an overturned truck could be seen. Perry’s truck. 
“Rhett,” came your whisper. 
“I see it.”
Together, you broke into a run, sprinting across the road and into the field on the other side. Faster and faster, desperate to see what was inside the truck. Praying it was empty, that your friends had found cover. 
You came to a stop once you were within a few feet of the truck, and Rhett held out his arm, glancing back at you as he caught his breath. “Just wait, I’ll check,” he told you. 
You shook your head, breathing still labored. “No, let’s look together.”
Holding his gaze, a beat passed before he reached for your hand again. Together, you cautiously approached the truck, which was turned onto its side. It was severely battered, damaged beyond repair. 
As you rounded the front, you peered down into the window and your blood ran cold. “Oh dear God.”
Rhett jumped into action, climbing atop the side of the truck. The driver's side glass was shattered, allowing him to reach in. “Per!” He exclaimed, gripping his brother’s shirt, tugging him upward. “Perry!”
But he got no response. The man was unconscious. A nasty gash marred the side of his head, crimson blood trickling down his face. He was terribly pale.
Beneath him, Rhett could see Rebecca. His heart sank like a rock. Just from the way she was positioned, he could tell she was not going to fare well. He couldn’t see if her chest was rising and falling or not. And when he squinted to look into the back seat, he saw Lydia, slumped over, but he couldn’t tell if she was dead or just merely unconscious.  
“Are they alive?!” You couldn’t tell from your vantage point. All you could see was Perry and Rebecca. If Lydia was still in the truck, she was concealed in the back. 
“I-I can feel a pulse, but Perry’s bleedin’ real bad. Call 911!” He didn’t give you any information about the girls. 
“Rhett, the girls! Are they—”
“Just call an ambulance!” He repeated with urgency. 
You did as you were told, hurrying to grab your phone from your pocket, hands shaking fiercely as you dialed the emergency number. You prayed you would get an answer, knowing the call lines would be flooded after the storm. 
Moments later, an operator answered. Panicked, you explained your situation, begging them to send help. The woman remained calm, asking for your name and location, assuring you that assistance was on the way. You had no recollection of what you said to her. Everything was a blur, adrenaline giving you tunnel vision.
After you hung up the phone, Rhett jumped down from the truck. You threw yourself into his arms as he neared you, tears spilling down your cheeks. “They said they’re on their way,” you whimpered. 
He hugged you close, and you could feel the way he trembled. “I didn’t…I didn’t want to pull him out. The EMTs should be the ones to do it, just in case anythin’ is broken.” While that was partially true, he was also terrified that if he started pulling everyone out, he’d find the girls were dead. It would bring reality crashing down upon him. The thought made his gut churn with dread, and he found himself praying to a God he didn’t even believe in, asking Him to spare his brother and his sister-in-law, and your dearest friend Lydia. 
It took longer than usual, because so many ambulances had already been dispatched to aid those harmed in the storm. But as time ticked on, the more worried you became. “I’m scared,” you whimpered.
Rhett held you tighter, resting his cheek atop your head. He felt so powerless. “I know. Me too.”
Moments later, the wail of emergency vehicle sirens could be heard. Multiple ambulances and a firetruck approached, all pulling into the grass toward the scene. Rhett let you go, the two of you jogging ahead to meet the first responders.
“There’s three of ‘em in the truck!” Rhett exclaimed, “they’re all unconscious, from what I could tell!”
“We’ll get them out!” One of them assured you both. 
You watched as they all rushed toward the truck, firefighters and EMTs alike. Helplessly, you remained on the sidelines, clinging to Rhett, fingers clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. 
He wanted to tell you they’d be okay. That everything was going to be fine, that your friends were unharmed. But in his heart, he knew nothing would ever be okay again. 
Perry was pulled from the vehicle first, still unconscious. Together, you watched as he was placed on a gurney, where an EMT hurriedly checked his vitals, searching for life. 
“I’ve got a pulse, but it’s weak!” The young woman shouted. 
He was alive. That was a good sign, right? Maybe it meant the girls were alright as well. You could only hope. 
A saw was taken to the door, and it was removed so that the inside of the truck was more easily accessible. Then they pulled Rebecca out. She was so still, unresponsive as she was hauled down to a second gurney. 
You heard a voice shout that they couldn’t find a pulse. 
You placed your hand over your mouth, a grieved whimper escaping your throat. Rhett’s name slipped past your lips, and you buried your face in his chest, unable to watch. You could hear his sharp intake of breath. 
Then Lydia was pulled from the wreckage. While you kept your face hidden against Rhett, he watched on, and he knew, just from the sight of her, that she was gone.
His grip tightened on you. It felt as if a dagger had been plunged into his chest. He sucked in a sharp, ragged breath, his eyes falling shut for a moment as the weight of what was happening settled upon him. 
You lifted your head at that very moment, and you turned, realizing your best friend had been taken out of the truck. On instinct, you tried to pull away from Rhett. Tried to run toward the scene, to see for yourself if Lydia was alright. 
But Rhett held you back. “No,” he told you. 
“Let me go, I need to see if she’s okay!”
He repeated himself. “No.” He would not release you, no matter how hard you struggled. 
Tears blurred your vision. “Rhett, please! I need to know if she’s alive!” 
He grabbed both of your shoulders and looked right into your eyes. “Darlin’, stop! Just let ‘em do their jobs!” He didn’t want you near it. Didn’t want you to witness death up close and personal like that. It would haunt you forever. 
Your knees buckled, and he caught you as you fell into him, wailing from the weight of your pain. Brokenhearted, Rhett cradled you in his arms, squeezing his eyes shut as his own tears made their way down his cheeks. This wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. A nightmare. 
And then one of the sheriff’s deputies was approaching. Linden Haynes. “You two need an escort to the hospital?” He asked, voice low. Knowing you’d both want to go in support of your friends. 
Rhett nodded, trying to find his voice. “Yeah…yeah. Thanks. I, uh, don’t know where my truck got blown to.”
Linden hummed, his face sympathetic. “No problem. We’ll find your truck somewhere. Once things calm down, I can see if we can get some deputies searchin’ for it.” He moved to walk away, motioning for you both to follow. 
“Linden, are…are they okay?” you heard yourself speak. 
He turned, trying to mask his expression, but you could see it in his eyes. He had witnessed the wreckage firsthand. He’d seen the EMTs and firefighters rescuing your friends. He knew. 
“Let the docs and nurses at the hospital tell you that, they’ll know more than me,” was his response.
Defeated, you followed him to his squad car, your body still leaning into Rhett. You climbed into the backseat together, and as soon as you were settled, you buried your face in your hands, trying desperately to hold yourself together. But you were unraveling, and the dread was threatening to swallow you whole. 
The hospital was in a frenzy when you arrived. So many people hurt in the storm. You heard murmurs of the tornado being an EF5, which made your eyes go wide as you looked at Rhett. It was a wonder you’d even made it to safety. 
Sitting there in that hospital waiting room was the most excruciating moment of your life. Hoping your friends would survive. Knowing that they might not. 
Rhett was on the verge of potentially losing his brother. And while his relationship with Perry had been tumultuous over the years, he cared about him deeply, and couldn’t stomach the thought of losing him. 
You sat side by side on vinyl-covered chairs, holding each other’s hands in a death grip, startling anytime a doctor or nurse walked by, thinking one of them was coming to give you an update. 
Finally, an update did come. 
You had no recollection of ending up on the floor. But there you were, crumbled against the cool tile as Rhett tried to console you, while simultaneously wracked with grief himself. 
They were dead. Lydia and Rebecca. They were dead, and they had been since they were pulled from the wreckage. Perry, however, was alive, but just barely holding onto life. 
The doctor was a family friend. He offered to contact yours and Rhett’s respective families. It was all a bur. And then you found yourself in Perry’s hospital room, which was stone silent, filled with dreadful anticipation. 
Your memory of that day was patchy at best. Your brain had filtered out some of the more traumatic parts, forcing you to forget. The weight of your anguish made it feel as if you were underwater, being pulled down by a cinder block tied to your ankle. No matter how hard you pedaled, you couldn’t come back up to the surface. 
Late into the night, Perry succumbed to his injuries, too. He slipped away, with his family surrounding him. Worst of it all? His four-year-old daughter was left an orphan in the wake of her parents’ deaths. 
You lost a piece of yourself when three of the dearest people in your life were taken from you. It sent both you and Rhett into a spiral. He blamed himself. You blamed yourself. It was something you could not move past. Every time you looked at him, it was a reminder of that fateful day a twister took everything from you. 
You couldn’t bear it any longer. So you ran. You left Rhett. You left all you had ever known. And you told yourself you would never come back. 
Present Day
Until now. 
You were hoping to go undetected. You weren’t sure if you could handle seeing anyone from your past. Least of all Rhett. With the way you left things between you and him, you doubted he wanted to see you anyway. 
But you should have known you couldn’t hide forever. 
You had been planning to stay in your aunt’s house while you were in town, but when you arrived and saw the dire state it was in, you realized sleeping there wasn’t feasible. So you decided to stay at the only motel in town. 
Before checking in, you needed to stop by the store to buy a few necessities that you had forgotten to pack. You wondered if anyone would recognize you. Had you changed much physically over the last six years? You thought you had, but maybe others wouldn’t notice the change. 
You managed to slip into the store without being recognized. You went about your entire shopping trip, remaining anonymous. You paid for your things without a single soul uttering your name. But just when you thought you were home free, you saw someone who made you stop dead in your tracks for the briefest of moments. 
Cecilia Abbott. 
Your heart rate picked up, anxiety sizzling through your veins like a live wire. She hadn’t seen you yet, too busy bagging her groceries to notice. Perhaps, if you were quick enough, you could evade her and make your escape. 
You almost did, too. Until you heard the sound of your name being called. 
You flinched, pausing for a moment, debating whether you should keep going. But then she was descending upon you and you had nowhere else to go. 
“It can’t be! After all these years?!” The woman exclaimed. 
Slowly, you turned around, trying your best to put on a pleasant expression, masking your look of distress. “Cece, hi!” You greeted. You had no idea how this was going to go. Would she be angry at you for walking out on her son? Would she welcome you back to town with open arms?
She stared at you in disbelief, shopping bag balanced in the crook of her elbow. “Goodness, how long’s it been?” But she knew how long it had been. She never lost count of how many years had passed since the death of her child. 
“Six years,” you heard yourself reply. You wanted to crawl out of your skin. 
“Wow. I can’t believe it.” Cecilia shook her head. “It’s almost like seein’ a ghost! Never thought you’d come back.”
“I didn’t either. But I, uh…I’m here cleaning out my aunt’s place.”
Her face softened, and she shifted, leaning toward you. “I’m sorry. She’ll be missed around here, that’s for sure. S’ a good thing you’re takin’ on the responsibility of cleanin’ that house, though. She did let it go in her old age.”
You hummed in agreement. “Yeah, she really wasn’t there mentally the last few years of her life. It’s sad. But, I’m hoping to have the house looking good as new when I’m done with it.”
Cecilia shifted her bag of groceries to her other hand. “Say, you got a place to stay while you’re in town?” 
“I was going to stay at the house, but it’s too much of a disaster. I’m just gonna get a motel room.” 
You should have known what she would say next. Gasping, she reached out and touched your arm. “Nonsense! You should come stay at our house!”
Your eyes widened. She wasn’t serious, was she? After all that had transpired? “Oh, I couldn’t do that, I wouldn’t want to impose.” 
But once Cecilia Abbott’s mind was set on something, she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “No imposition at all! Home cooked meals, and a clean bed that doesn’t have bed bugs like that nasty ole motel does. The Bed Bug Inn, that’s what everyone calls it. Plus, we’re not that far from your aunt’s, just down the road. Closer than the motel is.”
She did have a point. But you couldn’t fathom the thought of stepping back onto the Abbott property again. You couldn’t face the demons you’d left there. “Cece, I appreciate it, but—”
“I insist. You at least need to come for dinner! I’m makin’ roast tonight, y’know, the one Rhett always loved? If you decide you still don’t want to stay after that, that’s fine. But you have to let me feed ya, I’m not gonna let you go hungry, girl.”
At the mention of Rhett’s name, your breath caught in your chest. “Oh, um… Rhett, how is he?” Your voice raised a little in pitch, and you cleared your throat. 
“He’s fine. Still livin’ in the house with us, but he’s gone all the time. Storm chasin’ business keeps him busy.”
He was still chasing? “I can’t believe he’s still going after storms,” you spoke in disbelief. 
Cecilia shrugged. “He never lost his love for it,” she mused. For a moment, there was a faraway look in her eyes, as if she was remembering something. Likely the way she had lost her son to the very thing Rhett loved doing. 
Then she snapped out of it. “Anyway, come over for supper! Five o’clock!” Without giving you a chance to protest, she turned on her heel and bustled out of the store, leaving you with no choice but to take her up on her offer. You didn’t want to offend her by not showing up. 
But could you handle it? Stepping back into the past, into a version of yourself that you had not been in six years. You thought of Amy, Perry and Rebecca’s daughter. She would be nine years old by now. Would she even remember you? Would she blame you for the death of her parents?
Surely not. She had been four when they died. You doubted a four-year-old had the emotional or mental wherewithal to blame you for the loss of her parents.
But it wasn’t Amy you were afraid to be reunited with. Not really. You were utterly terrified at the thought of seeing Rhett again. Would he be happy to see you? Would he be angry? Hurt? Confused? What would he say to you? How would you respond?
All these questions swirled through your mind as you sauntered back to your car. Maybe he wouldn’t even be home. But if you chose to stay at the Abbott’s, you would likely run into him at some point. Besides, you weren’t sure how long you were going to remain in town. You felt like you were taking advantage of Cecilia’s kindness. So, you determined that you would only go over for dinner. You would not stay the night.
With that thought in mind, you climbed into your car and headed back to your aunt’s house. 
A few hours later, you were back in your car all over again, thrumming with anxiety, wondering if you were making the right decision. It would be so easy to turn back around, but you forced yourself to continue on, hands white-knuckling the steering wheel.
When you turned into the Abbott farm, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia so intense you slowed your car to a stop, staring at the house in the distance. It was the same as it had always been. A cozy house boasting of a well-kept garden, a bran off to the left with a nice coat of bright red paint. Chickens milled about the yard. Horses played in the field. Cows lowed in the distance. 
It still felt like home.
With a deep breath, you eased off the brake and urged your car down the long driveway. As you parked near the house, you caught sight of a young girl with honey-colored hair, swinging on the rope swing that was tied to the tree in the front. 
Your heart clenched in your chest. She’d grown so much. It was a reminder that life had continued in your absence. 
Upon seeing you, she hopped down, eyes alight with joy. “Gramma! Gramma!” She called, rushing into the house to alert Cecilia to your arrival.
You took a moment to steel yourself before you climbed out of the car, shoes crunching against dirt and gravel as you approached the porch. As you ascended the steps, you were once again greeted by the little girl. Amy.
“Hi!” She exclaimed. “I’m Amy. Gramma says you can come on in!”
You couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. “Hi, Amy. It’s been a long time. Last time I saw you, you were this big!” You held your hand low, indicating her size.
“I don’t really remember you. But Gramma and Grampa do. They said you and Uncle Rhett used to date.”
You were slightly taken aback, but recovered quickly. “Uh, yeah…yeah, we did. That was a long time ago though.”
Amy shrugged. “I wish he was still dating you. You’re super pretty!” 
“Oh…thank you!” Was all you could say in reply. She certainly was prone to saying whatever came to mind. However, she moved on from it quickly, motioning you inside.
“C’mon!” She said, waving you on, and you moved to follow her, stopping at the door to take your shoes off before you ambled into the kitchen. 
The smell of food cooking made your stomach growl, and you realized only then that you were very hungry. A home-cooked meal would do you some good.
At the sound of your footsteps, Cecilia turned, her face lighting up at the sight of you. “You made it! I’m so glad. Dinner should be ready in about fifteen minutes.”
You smiled softly, nodding your head. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You wanted to make yourself useful, rather than standing awkwardly in the middle of the kitchen. 
“You can help me set the table!” Amy chirped, already walking to the table with her arms full of plates. 
“Silverware’s in the drawer to the right of the sink,” Cecilia reminded you. But you remembered from the countless dinners you had been a part of here.
With a nod, you moved to gather enough cutlery for everyone, and as Amy set each plate down, you folded a napkin and placed the silverware upon it. You fell into a rhythm, stopping only to grab drinking glasses from the cupboard.
You noticed that the number of place settings was five. That had to mean Rhett was also joining the family for dinner, unless it was a place for someone else. You wanted to ask Cecilia if he was coming, but didn’t want to make things awkward, so you left it alone.
You were kept busy as she handed you different serving dishes full of various foods to put on the table. As you placed a basket of dinner rolls amongst the rest of the food, the sound of the back door opening caught your attention.
Your heart leapt in your chest, and you lifted your head, expecting to see Rhett. Instead, you were met with Royal’s look of surprise. Cecilia looked over at him and motioned to the sink. “Wash up, supper’s ready. We’ve got a guest.”
He nodded as he hung his hat on the peg on the wall, pausing to take off his muddy boots. “I’ll be damned,” he remarked, directing it at you. “Didn’t know you were back in town.”
“Saw her at the market today, so I invited her over. Didn’t tell ya because you an’ Rhett have been in that darn pasture with no signal all day.”
Royal hummed gruffly as he walked over to the sink to wash his hands. “Storm wiped that fence clean out. We had to replace every last post,” he sighed, “took us all day.”
“S’why we need to hire some hands, Roy,” Cecilia lowered her voice, but you still heard her.
Clearly this was something they talked about frequently, because he huffed and shook his head. But he didn’t continue the potential argument. Instead, he turned, drying his hands on a towel. His eyes regarded you kindly. “Been a long time,” he murmured. “Good to see you.”
You managed a smile. “Good to see you too.”
“Rhett on his way?” Cecilia questioned as she placed the final platter on the table.
Again, your heart fluttered anxiously at the mention of his name.
Royal nodded, pulling out the chair at the head of the table and taking a seat. “Yeah, he’s right behind me, he was just puttin’ up the horses.”
“Alrighty, we’ll wait to say grace until he comes in then.”
There it was again, that deep feeling of utter nostalgia. Cecilia had always been a religious woman, and not a meal went by where she didn’t pray over the food. That aspect hadn’t changed at all.
“You can sit here!” Amy announced, patting an open chair next to Royal. “Me and Uncle Rhett will sit across from you.”
You’d have to look into his face. You wouldn’t be able to hide your expressions from him. Rhett had always been so perceptive, more so than anyone gave him credit for. He was always considered to be aloof by those who didn’t bother to get to know him, but you knew that was far from the truth. 
There had been a time when you knew him like the back of your hand. You wondered just how much he’d changed, if at all. 
Just as you took your seat at the table, the squeak of the screen door opening filled the room, and the scrape of boots against linoleum followed. Seconds later, there he was. Blue flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. Same brown hat he’d had since he was a teenager, which he pulled from his head to place on the hat peg. 
“Uncle Rhett! Uncle Rhett! We have a guest!” Amy exclaimed. 
He hadn’t turned yet. Didn’t know you were there. “Who’s that, li’l pea?”
“Your old girlfriend!” She giggled, covering her mouth with her hand.
He saw you then, and his eyes went wide. You swore the clock hanging over the sink stopped, causing time to stand still. Everyone else in the room faded into the background as Rhett became your sole focus.
Suddenly you couldn’t breathe, as if someone had taken their hands and squeezed the air right out of your lungs. In the background, you heard Cecilia talking, likely explaining that she’d seen you at the store and invited you over.
You doubted Rhett heard her, either. He was too busy staring at you.
Seeing him again brought so many overwhelming emotions to the surface. Pain. Sadness. Longing. And suddenly, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. You needed to bolt. 
Abruptly, you stood up, silently cursing yourself for your dramatics. “I–I’m so sorry, this was a mistake,” you squeaked, the legs of your chair scraping against the floor as you scrambled away from the table. 
And then you were fleeing. Just like you had six years ago. 
But this time, Rhett wasn’t going to let you go that easy. Shaking himself out of his momentary shock, his feet moved beneath him, carrying him after you. “Go ‘head an’ eat! I’m gonna talk to her!” He called over his shoulder to his family.
He threw open the front door, lurching out onto the porch. You were already at your car, wrenching the door open. “Wait!” He called out, dashing down the steps.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks. You didn’t want him to see. 
“Would ya just– just stop!” He reached out, hand against your door, impeding you from opening it. 
“Let go of my door, please.” You were surprised you had it in yourself to speak.
“Not until you look at me.”
You were afraid you’d fall apart if you did. “Rhett, please.”
A beat passed. Then another. You could feel his body heat, he was standing so close. You could smell the sweat and dirt that clung to him after a hard day’s work. But there was something else, too. Something sweeter. Like freshly baled hay. 
Against your better judgment, you found yourself turning, drawn to him like a magnet. Your eyes finally met his, and you gasped softly. They were even bluer than you remembered. So clear and bright. 
But there was so much emotion there, too. It swam within his irises, and you saw the glint of gathering tears. He drank in the sight of you, and his chest heaved as he took in a breath, then another. “I…I never thought I’d see you again,” he whispered, as if speaking louder would cause his voice to fail him.
“Me too,” you agreed, as quiet as he was. There was so much you wanted to say. But most importantly, there were a few words he needed to hear. “I’m so sorry, Rhett.” You succumbed to your tears, as they slid down your cheeks in hot trails. 
His bottom lip quivered slightly, and he shook his head. “No, I…I should apologize. I shoulda been more understandin’. You were grievin’, same as me, and I wasn’t letting you do it in your own way. I made you feel like you had to run away, and I’m sorry.”
“Is that what you think? That it was your fault?” Your voice trembled. 
He shrugged, sniffling softly. “S’what I always assumed. Thought it had to be somethin’ I did.”
The thought of him living with that these last several years made your heart ache. “It was never your fault. It was me. I couldn’t face what happened. I thought…if I left, it would be easier. I could move on faster.”
Being reassured that it wasn’t his fault made him relax slightly, the tenseness leaving his shoulders. But there was still a shadow of sadness on his face. “Was it easier?”
At that, you shook your head, scoffing slightly. “No. Honestly, I think leaving you made it worse. I’m so sorry I did that to you. I’ve never really been able to forgive myself for it.”
“Guess we both have a lotta things we couldn’t forgive ourselves for,” he murmured. Then he bowed his head for a moment, gathering himself before looking at you again. “For what it’s worth, I ain’t holding it against you. Losin’ the three of them was the hardest fuckin’ thing we ever had to go through. I don’t blame you for leavin’ to see if it would make you feel better. You did what you thought you had t’ do.”
A fresh wave of tears welled in your eyes. “Oh, Rhett.” Without a second thought, you found yourself moving forward, wrapping your arms around him. He was caught by surprise for only a moment, and then his own arms, strong and steady, came up to encircle your waist. 
You stood there in the middle of the driveway, holding each other for what felt like hours. When you parted, you were both wiping at tear-streaked cheeks. 
“S’good to see you again, by the way,” Rhett said. “I mean it.”
“It’s good to see you too,” you replied honestly. Now that your initial upset was out of the way, you realized it felt as if a weight had been lifted from your shoulders. 
“What, uh, what are you doin’ back in town?”
“Cleaning out my great-aunt’s place,” came your answer, and he nodded in realization. “I ran into your mom at the store today, she invited me over. I didn’t really want to come, I was scared to face you again.”
He hummed in understanding. “She knew what she was doin’. She wanted us to talk. She’s a meddler like that.” There was a twinkle in his eye as he spoke. 
You couldn’t help but smile despite yourself. “I should’ve known it was a ruse. She’s convincing, that’s for sure. She’s also watching us right now.”
When Rhett turned, he found his whole family watching through the front window. Upon seeing him turn, they all rushed away from the window, dropping the curtain. 
He faced you again, and there was a smile on his face. “I’m glad she convinced ya, then. Can’t tell you how good it feels to clear the air after all this time. Losin’ you was rough on me, but I’m happy you’re back, even if it’s only for a small visit.” 
“I’m happy too. And I’m happy you stopped me from leaving this time.”
His eyes twinkled like stars, and he nodded toward the house. “Wanna head back in for supper?”
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Together, you walked back into the house. While there was so much you had missed in your time apart, and so much you still needed to reconcile with each other, you were relieved that the air was clear for the time being. You hadn’t expected Rhett to welcome you back with open arms, but you were thankful he had. 
It broke your heart that he had spent so much time believing he was to blame. It was your own inability to face your grief that was the culprit, not this sweet, blue-eyed cowboy. Never him. But maybe there was a new beginning between you. A chance to let the past remain where it belonged. 
When you stepped into the kitchen and took your seat at the table, the trio was pretending they hadn’t just been spying on you and Rhett. However, it was Amy who gave it away, giggling behind her hand. 
“You guys’re menaces,” Rhett grumbled as he placed a serving of potatoes on his plate. 
Cecilia tried to hide her smile, though ultimately failing. She looked at you, and her gaze was kind. “I’m sorry. Maybe I was a little…overzealous about makin’ sure you and Rhett saw each other again. But it worked, didn’t it?”
You couldn’t hold it against her. Without her meddling, you never would have spoken to Rhett. You likely would have done what you came to do and left town without a single glance in his direction. 
Cecilia had known that it was a chance for you to reconcile with Rhett. Holding on to something that happened years ago wasn’t healthy. She saw the opportunity to ease her son’s pain, and yours, and she took it. Thankfully, it had worked out in her favor. 
You couldn’t believe it had been that easy to reconcile with him. Even after you’d stormed off, upset, he’d still been willing to talk to you. It spoke volumes of his growth. Past Rhett wasn’t very good at communicating. But present Rhett seemed to have gotten much better at it. 
Dinner passed without a hitch, although there was still some slight tension. No one spoke of Perry, Rebecca, or Lydia. You got the sense that Royal and Cecilia were avoiding the subject. Likely because Amy was present. You had no idea how much she knew about that day, but you had no desire to bring it up. 
Conversation instead shifted to what you were doing with your life. 
“Where you workin’ now?” Royal asked, leaning back so that Cecilia could take his plate and clear the table in preparation for dessert. She’d denied your offer of help, insisting you sit and talk, because you were a guest. 
“I work for the National Weather Service, up in Silver Spring, Maryland.”
“No kiddin’?” He replied, eyes glimmering with intrigue. “What d’ya do there?”
You took a sip of your water before you answered. “I’m an analyst. I analyze weather data from all over the country. I work with a team and we try to predict, as best we can, what the weather is going to look like.”
“Sounds intense,” Rhett spoke up. You glanced over at him. He was leaning back in his chair, balancing on the back two legs. 
Until his mother slapped her dish towel against his arm. “Stop leanin’ back in that chair. The legs’ll give out.” 
He corrected his chair right away. You couldn’t help but smile at the interaction. “It is kinda intense. But I love it. Keeps me on my toes,” came your reply. 
“Can’t take the storm chaser outta the girl, huh?” He hummed, catching your eye with a knowing look. 
He was right. Although you’d stopped chasing storms, you still did just that, except it was from a much safer distance this time, through a set of screens. There was no chance of those around you dying grisly deaths brought on by a wicked twister. 
“Guess not,” you finally agreed. 
Before the conversation could continue, Amy happily interrupted, flouncing up to the table to set down a handful of dessert plates. “Gramma made your favorite, Uncle Rhett,” she announced, beaming at him. 
He grinned, pulling her into his side as she squealed. “Did she?” He asked, laughter in his tone as he jabbed his fingers into her sides, while she laughed uncontrollably and tried to wriggle away from him. 
You watched the exchange, and your heart went warm in your chest. But you were also hit with a wave of sadness. This sweet little girl was growing up without a mother and father. These three people in this room were all she had in the world. 
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, bringing you back to reality. You hadn’t realized that tears were making their way down your cheeks. 
“I…I’m fine,” you answered. 
“Alright, here’s some blackberry pie!” Cecilia’s voice rang across the kitchen, interrupting your moment of melancholy. But you were grateful for the distraction.  
The pie was cut, and everyone was given a slice, along with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and a cup of coffee. Conversation around the table shifted to Amy’s schooling, and she eagerly listed the number of weeks that were left of school. 
But you could feel Rhett’s eyes on you from across the table the entire time. The intensity of his gaze made you feel as if he could see right into your soul. That was how it had always been. Looking at him felt like staring into the sun, at times. So bright and beautiful, but impossible to stare at. 
That hadn’t changed, even years later. Same intense look. 
When dessert was finished, Amy got up to help Cecilia clear the table. Royal headed upstairs to presumably get ready for bed. And Rhett stepped outside onto the front porch. 
“Can I at least help you clean up for the night, Cece?” You asked, hoping to do something, anything to feel useful. 
“Don’t you lift a finger. Amy and I have got it.” 
“You sure?”
“‘Course I’m sure,” the woman insisted. Then, “Have you given any thought as to if you might stay here?”
You hesitated. “Oh, I, uh…I don’t know. I really don’t want to be a bother.”
She huffed, shaking her head. “I already told ya at the store, it’s no bother! ‘Sides, it’s gonna be dark soon, and it gets so pitch black out here, drivin’ into town isn’t safe. And if you stay, you’d be wakin’ up to a home-cooked breakfast in the mornin’.”
With a sigh, you finally relented. Mostly because you were too tired to argue with her. “You drive a hard bargain. Fine, I’ll stay.” It was a good thing you hadn’t taken your luggage out of the car yet. 
Cecilia beamed. “Then it’s settled.”
“I’ll just go get my stuff from the car,” you remarked, already turning to put your shoes back on. 
“Have Rhett help you. I think he just stepped out onto the porch,” she suggested. 
With a nod, you made your way out the door, hinges squeaking as you stepped onto the porch, shoes thudding lightly against weather-worn wood. 
Sure enough, Rhett was there, seated on the bench near the door. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and he was leaning back, eyes fixed on the sky. 
When you came out, his gaze shifted to you, and he smiled softly. “Hey,” he said, sitting up a little straighter. 
“Hey.” An awkward silence soon followed. There was so much hanging in the air between you both. Words left unsaid. “Your momma asked me to stay the night.”
He hummed, nodding as he looked back out across the sprawling land that was the Abbott farm. “Figured she would. Her and that bleedin’ heart of hers.”
“She suckered me into it with the promise of a home cooked breakfast.”
He scoffed playfully. “You get a home cooked breakfast and I get a piece of fuckin’ toast.”
“I’ll share with you.”
His smile turned into a grin. Then he fell serious. “Speakin’ of sharing, you can sleep in my room.”
At that, you shook your head. “Oh no, that’s asking too much. Isn’t there a pull-out bed in the living room couch? I can sleep there instead. It’s where I used to sleep when I’d stay over, remember?”
“Boy, do I,” he hummed. When you were teenagers, Cecilia was insistent that you did not share a bed if you stayed the night. You’d sleep on the pull-out bed in the living room, far away from Rhett’s bedroom upstairs. It didn’t stop him from sneaking down to talk to you in the middle of the night, though. 
He continued, “But ya already served your time on that old couch. I’ll sleep there. My bed’s all yours.”
“Rhett—”
“Hey now, don’t argue with me. We both know I always win ‘em anyway.” 
You rolled your eyes, folding your arms over your chest as you shook your head. He was right, after all. He’d always win you over with kisses dispersed all over your face until you relented with laughter. 
“Fine. I’ll take your room then,” you replied. 
He hummed in satisfaction, and silence fell between you again. It felt so strange, being back in his presence. You felt as if you didn’t belong here, on this porch with him in the late spring night. In your anxious imaginations, you had always assumed he’d never reconcile with you, so you never tried to reach out and make things right. 
But all it had taken was one tearful conversation, and a sense of civility had been restored between you. 
“Why did you forgive me so easily?” Came your question, spoken into the quiet air that hummed with the sounds of nocturnal creatures. 
Rhett eyes flickered to you. “Because I spent too long wallowin’ in hurt, and I couldn’t handle carryin’ all of it anymore. I don’t wanna be stuck in the past. I want to move forward. Forgivin’ you is the best way to do that.” Then he added, “plus, I never could stay mad at you. Guess that still holds true to this day.”
Tears welled in your eyes again as you digested his words. You hated that you’d caused him so much pain. If only you’d been able to work through your grief instead of running from it. But that was in the past. There was nothing you could do to change it. However, you could use it to be a better person in the future. 
“I’m sorry I—”
But he held up his hand. “Don’t need to ‘pologize again,” he assured you, gentleness in his tone. 
You closed your mouth and nodded, and then you decided to take a seat next to him. Several minutes of silence passed again. Again, you were the one to break it. 
“I’m glad I decided to come tonight. I almost didn’t take your ma up on it.”
“I’m glad y’ did too.” He turned his body toward you so he could look into your face. “Six years is a long time.”
“It really is. I can’t believe it’s been that long. And Amy…she’s gotten so big.”
“She has. That little girl’s the apple of Mom and Dad’s eye, I’ll tell you what.”
You couldn’t help but smile fondly. “Looks like she’s the apple of yours, too.”
Rhett made a noise of agreement. “I see ‘em in her. Bec and Perry, that is. She’s a bit of a firecracker. Takes after her dad in that way. But she’s smart as a whip, we’re talkin’ wicked smart, like her momma. And some of the things she says, the tone she says them in…god, it sounds just like Bec.”
“It must be so cool to see them live on in her like that,” you whispered. 
“It is. But it’s hard, too. Thinkin’ about the way things would be if they were still here.”
“Does she remember them?”
He shrugged, shifting his gaze to the night sky above you, shimmering with stars. “Bits an’ pieces. She doesn’t remember whole details. Plus she was so small…I don’t rightly know what she pictures in her head when she talks about it.”
Your heart broke for the girl. “Poor thing.”
Rhett nodded his head. “I know. But she’s doin’ alright. Brings a lotta joy into our lives.” Even in the dim light, you could see the way his eyes sparkled with love. Family had always been so important to him. Even more so now that he’d lost part of it. 
You had to swallow the urge to cry. “That’s good.”
A beat passed before Rhett changed the subject, eager to move on to lighter conversation. “So…weather analyst, huh?” He wiggled his eyebrows. 
That drew a shy smile out of you. “It’s no big thing. I have a whole team of people who work with me.”
“It’s a pretty damn big deal to me. You an’ that smart brain of yours. It’s no wonder you want on to work for the fuckin’ National Weather Service.”
At his compliment, you ducked your head, a little embarrassed. “I really like the job. It’s kinda stressful, though. Weather never takes a break like us human beings do.”
“You’re tellin’ me. You shoulda seen the storms that rolled through here last week. One right after another.”
That prompted you to ask the question you’d been dying to know the answer to all night. “Your mom said you’re still chasing.”
Rhett nodded his head as he shifted against the bench, wood creaking beneath his weight. “Yeah. It ain’t just me, either. I’ve got a whole team workin’ with me.”
Your gaze fell to your lap, where your hands were loosely clasped. “Was it…was it hard getting back to it, after they died?” You softly questioned. That was why you’d never gone back to storm chasing. You couldn’t bear the thought of doing so after all you'd lost. 
“Sure was. I didn’t start back up until a year later. That first time I got back out there…man, I almost couldn’t do it. I just kept thinkin’ of them. But then it sorta turned into a way to honor them an’ keep their memory alive. So I’ve been doin’ it ever since.”
“That’s good you were able to get back into it.”
“How ‘bout you? Been out there runnin’ after any storms lately?”
“No,” you answered quickly. The thought made your stomach turn. 
“Y’ should join us next time it storms,” came his suggestion. 
“I’d rather not.” You were hoping he would drop it. 
“C’mon, it’ll be like old times.”
“I don’t want it to be like old times. We lost three of our best friends during old times. I can’t…I can’t face another tornado. I’m scared to death of them now. I’ll never storm chase ever again.” You were on the verge of tears.
He got the message then. “Alright, fair enough. Didn’t mean to upset ya.”
You sighed, shoulders dropping. “You didn’t upset me. It’s just more of a sore subject than I realized,” you said. Then, “and now that I’m back here, I’m so scared more twisters will come through.”
Rhett understood where you were coming from. But he also believed in facing one’s fears. For the most part, at least. There were still some things that filled him with fear that he couldn’t bear to face. 
“More will definitely come. They ain’t been that bad this season so far. Last week was rough though. Had a couple EF3s that hit some neighborin’ towns. We’ve been helpin’ out a lot. The team I’m workin’ with…they’re big into charity. We’ve been able to donate to people who lost their homes. We’re hopin’ to raise enough money to get building supplies that can help rebuild all the damaged homes.”
You raised a brow, surprised. Not over the fact that Rhett wanted to help people in surrounding communities, but over the fact that his team had done so much. That was more than you’d ever been able to do when you were chasing with Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. 
“That’s really amazing,” you remarked. 
“Yeah. Hate seein’ the damage twisters can do, but I’m glad we can at least do somethin’ to help, even if it’s small.”
You had so many more questions about his storm chasing. But you also wanted to change the subject. Your heart was heavy from the old memories going through your mind. So, you asked about another thing that was part of the past.
“Did you ever go back to bull riding?”
Rhett let out a sharp breath, suddenly finding a small tear in his jeans very interesting, fingers sliding over the work fabric. “Hell no.”
“I always wondered about that. If you’d gone back to it after I left.”
“Nah. Never could stomach the thought of gettin’ back on one of them beasts.”
“Yet you’ll chase twisters with no problem.”
“That’s different.”
“How? Both could kill you.”
Rhett didn’t have an answer for that. But he did know he never wanted to experience what he’d been through in that arena all those years ago. 
It happened before you’d started storm chasing together. He was gunning for a career in pro bull riding, and he was headed toward the top. He had it all. Until it came crashing down one night when he suffered a life-threatening injury when he didn’t get out of the way of an angry bull fast enough. 
You’d never forget that night. And neither would he. You’d been volunteering at the rodeo. You were certified in first aid, and you were able to work alongside the on-site medics tending to riders with injuries, so you had access to the riders-only area. 
But what Rhett suffered was no minor injury. The bull’s horn caught him right beneath the hem of his protective vest, impaling the soft flesh of his lower abdomen. You remembered so vividly the way you’d cried out his name. The way he’d been carried out on a stretcher. 
You remembered tearing his vest off of him and seeing blood. So much blood. You remembered pressing your hands to the wound in an effort to slow the bleeding as he grew pale beneath you. You remembered begging him to hold on, assuring him that help was on the way. 
You almost lost him that night. 
The injury scared the hell out of him. It required surgery to repair the internal damage, and it took him out of riding for months. And by the time the doctor cleared him to ride again, he knew he couldn’t. Not after he’d stared death in the face. 
He had a permanent scar on his abdomen, a reminder of what he had endured. 
Rhett never wanted to experience that again. So he hung up his riding vest for good. But he was still a thrill seeker. And when you expressed an interest in storm chasing, he’d eagerly agreed, because it gave him a chance to feel alive again, just like he always felt when he was sitting on the back of a raging bull. 
Now you had traded places. He was too afraid to mount another bull. You were too afraid to go after another twister. It seemed that you had more in common than you realized.
“Guess we’re both scared of something,” you remarked, wrapping your arms around yourself as the evening chill crept up on you like the chilled fingers of a ghost touching your skin. 
“Guess so,” Rhett agreed.
Your conversation fell stagnant, and you found yourself growing sleepy. You had only just arrived back in Oklahoma that morning, and the night before, you hadn’t slept well. The exhaustion was beginning to catch up with you. 
“I should probably turn in before I fall asleep out here,” you mumbled, followed by a yawn. 
Rhett made a sound deep in his throat before he rolled his neck, joints cracking. “I’ll help ya with your stuff,” he offered as he stood. 
You followed suit, motioning to your car. The two of you headed down the porch steps, where you popped the trunk, revealing your luggage. You watched as Rhett heaved the bags out of the car, his forearms and biceps bulging beneath the rolled sleeves of his shirt. 
You were reminded that he was still just as strong as ever. Lifting your suitcases hardly took that much strength, you knew, but Rhett was a farm boy. He’d been strong his entire life, thanks to lifting bales of hay and performing other tasks of manual labor. When he was riding bulls, his core and leg strength had been excellent. Those strong thighs of his allowed him to hold tightly to those raging animals. 
He’d taken on some size since you’d seen him six years ago. His shoulders were more broad. His arms were bigger. His thighs were meatier. Or maybe his jeans were simply too tight, hugging the curve of his quad muscles.
In the kitchen, you hadn’t fully admired him. But here, beneath the night sky, illuminated by the glow of the porch light, you saw him. His stubbled jaw, his twinkling eyes, his small pink mouth the button nose you’d always loved. 
You remembered teasing him and telling him he had an elfin nose, that he had inherited it from a mystical creature. You had adored the way his ears would turn red whenever you said it.
Oh, how things had changed. There had been a time when you couldn’t picture your life without him. And now, you’d been without him for so long that you’d forgotten what it felt like to love and be loved by him.
“Y’alright?” Rhett’s voice jarred you, and you shook yourself out of your reverie.
“Uh, yeah. Yeah, sorry. Just sorta zoned out.”
The knowing look in his eye told you he’d caught on to the fact that you were staring at him.
“C’mon, I’ll take you upstairs.” With that, he slammed your trunk shut and gathered your bags again before he headed toward the house.
You trailed after him, closing and locking the front door behind you, assuming everyone was in for the night. Then you ascended the stairs, allowing Rhett to lead you down the hall, all the way to the end, where his room was.
He nudged the partially open door with his foot, and stepped into the dark confines, depositing your luggage onto the bed before he bent to turn on the bedside lamp. You were met with the sight of a surprisingly neat bedroom.
The times you’d been here in the past, his room had never been terribly messy, but random clutter would accumulate in different corners. He was never really the type to make his bed either, because he always said, “I’m gon’ sleep in it again, so why bother?”
But now, the bed was neatly made, and hardly any clutter hid in the corners. 
“I ain’t been stayin’ here much, so it stays pretty neat,” he explained, as if reading your mind. 
“Too busy storm chasing?” You asked.
“Yeah. Stay in a lotta motels when I’m on the road.”
You sauntered into the room, taking in the coziness of it all. Hardly anything had changed. His plaid bedspread was the same. His curtains still matched the bedding. Art pieces of cowboys riding bulls decorated the walls. A picture of Lane Frost hung just above his desk.
A sense of nostalgia washed over you. Being in this room felt like coming home.
“Welp…guess I’ll, uh, let you get to bed,” Rhett murmured. He paused in the doorway, as if he wanted to say something. “I’m glad you’re back, by the way.”
That brought a smile to your face. “I am, too.”
He rapped his knuckles against the door frame. “Anyway, ‘night.”
“Goodnight.”
He reached out to pull the door shut, leaving you in silence, alone for the first time since you had arrived at the house. You let out a breath, and lowered down to sit on the edge of the bed, allowing yourself to process everything.  
Your arms splayed out on either side of you, palms skimming over the softness of the bed. You closed your eyes, and allowed the memories to wash over you. It was here, in this very bed, that you had lost your virginity to each other. You were young and in love and driven by your passion for one another.
Many times after that, you had made love in this room. And as you closed your eyes, it was as if you were reliving those memories. The feeling of his mouth on yours, and his hands on your heated skin. The way he would moan your name into your mouth when you shifted your hips against his own, searching for delicious friction, so eager to have him inside you.
As your eyes fluttered open, you were struck with a feeling of emptiness. How long had it been since you’d been with anyone in such an intimate way? Your job hardly left you time for romantic relationships. You hadn’t really put yourself out there, because you knew your busy career would likely deter anyone who wanted any sort of future with you.
As you readied yourself for bed, you thought about how alone you had felt these last few years. Alone in your grief. In your pain. At least Rhett had his parents to lean on as they endured the loss. You had no one who truly understood. 
Silver Spring was a perfectly nice community to live in, and you had made some good friends during your time there. But nothing compared to the community you once had here in Wabang. No one compared to Lydia, your dearest friend. Your bond had been a sisterly one. You were kindred spirits. You’d never been able to find that again in any of the friends you made in your current home city.
But now that you were back in Oklahoma, the sense of familiarity was nearly overwhelming. You were home. Even if you didn’t realize it yet.
That night, you got the best sleep you’d gotten in a long time. Rhett’s bed was comfortable, and the house was quiet. All that could be heard outside was the distant howl of a coyote, and the sounds of nightlife creeping about.
When you woke the next morning, it was to the sound of a rooster crowing. You lay there for a while, staring up at the ceiling, relishing in the feeling of being rested. Your body didn’t ache. Your head wasn’t swimming with tiredness. You were at peace, which was something you hadn’t felt in ages.
You could hear the sound of the Abbotts milling about the house. Cecilia was likely in the kitchen starting breakfast. Royal was probably already outside, getting a head start on the day’s chores. Rhett, too, who’d always been responsible for checking on the animals and making sure they were fed.
Not wanting to walk out in your tank top and sleep shorts, you were quick to throw on some clean clothes before you headed across the hall to the bathroom to wash your face and make yourself look somewhat presentable.
When you finally made your way downstairs, you were hit with the smell of food cooking. The coffee pot hissed and sputtered in the corner, nearly finished with its brew cycle. Amy sat at the table, doodling in a notebook. When she saw you, her face lit up.
“Mornin’! I was wondering when you’d come down! You slept for a super long time.”
“Amy,” Cecilia cautioned.
“It’s okay,” you assured her, before turning to Amy, “I needed the rest.”
“Well you came down just in time! Gramma’s making pancakes.”
“Sounds good!” Came your response, as you moved to grab a glass from the cupboard to fill with water. Your mouth felt parched.
“How’d you sleep, hon?” Cecilia asked as she stirred a bowl of pancake batter.
“Like a baby,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips to take a sip. You watched as she poured the batter onto a hot skillet, bubbling with melted butter. “Just so you know, I don’t expect you to make breakfast for me every day. I know you only make big breakfasts on Saturdays and Sundays, I don’t expect pancakes and eggs and bacon every day of the week.”
It was Thursday, so it wasn’t a typical day for her to make breakfast for the family. The weekday mornings were always called “fend for yourself” mornings, where the family was responsible for preparing their own respective breakfasts.
“Nonsense! I’m happy to do it, you need fuel if you’re gonna be cleanin’ that house all day,” she insisted.
You smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, it means a lot.”
She ushered you to the table, assuring you breakfast would be ready momentarily. You chatted with Amy once you settled into your seat, and just as breakfast was being put on the table, the screen door squealed open, and in stepped Royal, lifting his hat off his head and placing it on the peg on the wall.
He greeted you, nodding in your direction. “Mornin’,” he said as he took his seat at the head of the table.
Cecilia placed a cup of black coffee beside his plate, and he thanked her with a wordless hum. Typical morning small talk followed as everyone began filling their plates. But the quiet chatter was soon interrupted by the screen door opening again.
Rhett hurried into the kitchen, boots scraping against the floor as he made a beeline for the table. You could see a wildness in his eyes, and it made your heart rate quicken. Your gaze flickered to the kitchen window, where you could see distant gray clouds. 
“Gotta take breakfast to go, storm’s brewin’ over in Cimarron County,” he announced as he reached over Amy’s head to grab a pancake. He shoved a few pieces of bacon inside and folded it up like a taco. “Team’s on the way here to meet me.”
“Please be careful!” Cecilia called after him as he turned on his heel to head back to the door. 
He grabbed a backpack that was sitting on the bench in the entryway, presumably packed with necessities. “Always am, Ma,” he replied. Then he looked at you, his hand hovering over the doorknob. “You wanna come?” Hope was in his tone.
His offer shocked you. You certainly didn’t expect it, not after what you had told him last night. “No, I…I’ll stay here,” you answered.
“Alright, see ya soon!” And with that, he was off, door slamming shut behind him.
You weren’t sure what drove you to do so, but you found yourself surging up from your seat, feet carrying you quickly to the door. You flung it open and rushed out onto the porch. “Rhett!” You called. 
Midway to his truck, he stopped, whirling around. “Yeah?”
“Be safe!” He’d just come back into your life. You couldn’t bear the thought of losing him.
His face softened, and he smiled. “I will be. I promise.” Then he turned and continued on to his truck. Still that old GMC Sierra with the light bar on top. It had been blown off the road during the twister you’d narrowly escaped, but somehow, the truck was perfectly fine, and just needed a few repairs to render it driveable again.
Seeing that it had survived after all this time gave you hope that Rhett would make it back safely home again. 
He was gone for three days. You learned of his well-being through Cecilia. He would always text her after a storm passed to assure her he was okay. He was so good about giving her peace of mind. 
In his absence, you busied yourself with sorting through the overwhelming clutter in your great-aunt’s house. It provided a distraction from your worry. 
Living in Silver Spring, you’d had no cause to worry about Rhett. He crossed your mind often, yes, but you had no idea he was still storm chasing, and therefore remained blissfully ignorant. 
Now that you were back home, all those old memories had resurfaced, and you were forced to face the fact that you still cared deeply for Rhett. The thought of him dying out there made your stomach turn. 
At least when you’d been chasing with him, you were together, and he would die by your side if something did happen. Being apart from him now, you had no idea if he was okay or not, aside from updates from his mother. 
You were forced to come to terms with your feelings. Why did you feel so strongly about this? Yes, you cared about what happened to him, just as anyone else in his life did. But there was something more. 
You realized that perhaps you were still in love with him. 
However, you buried that realization deep. You couldn’t rekindle your romance with him. You had moved on, made a life for yourself, had a career you loved. You needed to leave your relationship with him in the past, and move forward with only a friendship between the two of you. 
Easy as pie, right? 
You hoped so. 
Three days later, just as you were arriving back on the Abbott farm after a long day of cleaning and organizing, Rhett returned. 
Relief washed over you from head to toe when you saw that old Sierra coming down the driveway. But he wasn’t alone. You could make out the silhouette of a woman sitting in the passenger seat. Behind the truck, a Ford F150 followed closely behind, and beyond that, an old RV. 
So this was the team he’d been talking about. 
Your gut fluttered at the sudden anxiety of meeting new people. You knew you looked worse for wear in your cleaning clothes. You’d been sweating all day, and you were planning on heading straight for the shower when you got into the house. 
But it would be rude to just turn and go inside, so you stayed put, waiting until all the vehicles came to a stop. 
Rhett jumped out first, slamming the truck door shut behind him. He was wearing his hat, and he was grinning. “Made it back in one piece,” he assured you. 
You couldn’t help but smile in return. “I can see that,” came your answer. 
Your eyes flickered beyond him as the woman in the passenger seat climbed out. She was beautiful, in the most natural of ways. No makeup adorned her face. Her eyes were large, the deepest shade of brown you’d ever seen. Her hair, a deep chestnut color, was curly and unkempt, pulled back into a ponytail. 
Her deep brown skin glimmered with perspiration. You could hazard a guess that the air conditioning in Rhett’s truck was broken. It always had been finicky. 
“Hi,” she spoke, reaching out her hand to shake yours, “I’m Zara Marshall. Nice to finally meet you! Rhett told me all about you.” Then she added, “good things, of course!”
“Nice to meet you, too. I didn’t realize you all were coming. I would’ve at least tried to look presentable.”
“Oh, you look beautiful, don’t even worry about that.” She blew a stray curl out of her face. 
“Zara here is the genius behind all our chases,” Rhett boasted. 
The woman looked at him and beamed, shaking her head. “Oh, hush. I’m no genius.”
An odd feeling blossomed to life in your chest as you watched their banter. The easy way they interacted. It wasn’t jealousy, was it? It couldn’t be. You had no right to be jealous. Not after you were the one that left him six years ago. 
Your moment of distaste was interrupted by the sound of car doors opening and closing. The rest of the team was getting out of their vehicles, clearly eager to stretch their legs after driving for so long. 
“You have to meet my wife!” Zara exclaimed. 
Oh. 
How silly of you to entertain the thought of jealousy when the woman wasn’t even interested in Rhett. 
Another woman came rushing over to the three of you, tall and lean, shoulder-length brown hair hanging loosely against the middle of her back, Tattoos decorated different parts of her body. Mostly her hands and wrists, and a few on her neck. When she smiled at you, it was warm like sunlight. 
“Hi!” She said, “I’m Jeslyn.”
You shook her hand and told her your name. Then you were quickly introduced to everyone else. 
There was Finn, handsome as could be, with bright green eyes and auburn hair. And then there was Danny, with eyes that were just a little less blue than Rhett’s, and graying curls that fell against his forehead. He couldn’t have been older than his early thirties, but he was already going gray. It suited him.
They were all so personable, and their welcome was warm. It made you feel at ease instantly. You should have known the people who chose to associate with Rhett were good people.
You learned that they were all staying for dinner, per Cecilia’s insistence. It was a flurry of organized chaos as everyone offered to help set up the tables outside, rather than crowding in the small kitchen to eat. 
While they were busy with that, you slipped away to take a quick shower, eager to wash the sweat and grime off of your body. 
You turned the water as hot as you could stand, stepping under the spray and closing your eyes. You hadn’t expected to be so exhausted. Your shoulders and arms ached from scrubbing and heavy lifting. Your legs were sore too. 
The steamy water helped loosen your tight muscles considerably, and once you were finished, you breathed out a sigh of satisfaction. Now you felt a little more prepared to face a dinner table full of people. 
But when you stepped out of the shower, you realized that you had forgotten something very important. A towel. Swearing under your breath, you stood in the middle of the bathroom for a moment, debating what you should do.
The linen closet was right across the hall. If you could sneak out there unseen, you’d be able to grab a towel and slip right back into the bathroom unnoticed. So, you cautiously opened the bathroom door and made sure the coast was clear before you dashed for the closet, yanking the door open and scanning for a towel.
To your horror, the sound of footsteps approaching could be heard, and you gasped, reaching for your towel, but you weren’t fast enough. A split second later, Rhett appeared at the top of the steps.
He froze, eyes widening, as you let out a squeak of surprise. Out of respect for you, he quickly turned away. “Shit, sorry!” He apologized.
Wordlessly, you clutched your towel and scurried away, slamming the bathroom door shut. On the steps, Rhett let out a breath, and he couldn’t help but shake his head. He hadn’t seen you naked in years. Of course the first time would end up being an awkward moment like the one you’d both just been subjected to.
He hadn’t seen much, in his haste to give you privacy. But he’d seen enough to make his brain short-circuit for a moment. Mentally, he scolded himself, but he knew, now that he’d seen you in that way, he wouldn’t be able to get it out of his head. Especially because there had been a time when he knew your body, inside and out. He’d had you in the most intimate of ways. And that was something he would never forget.
“Get it the fuck t’gether,” he grumbled to himself as he turned back around, heading toward his room, where he wanted to grab a clean shirt before you came back. He simply couldn’t entertain thoughts about you naked. It would do him no good. 
He shook the encounter off, and quickly changed his shirt, tossing the old one in the hamper. He stopped to glance in the mirror that hung above his dresser, running his hand haphazardly through his hair, which was slightly tousled from all the activity of the day. 
Then, quick as he came, he strolled out of his room and back down the steps before you ever stepped out of the bathroom again. 
Meanwhile, you were hurriedly going about your post-shower routine, your mind spinning. You knew you were making this into a bigger deal than it needed to be. Perhaps you should be grateful it was only Rhett, who’d seen you naked many times before, rather than his parents or Amy. 
But you still had an odd feeling swirling to life in your gut, a feeling that you didn’t want to face, because if you did, that would mean admitting you’d never gotten over Rhett. 
You pushed it down again. Choosing to deny, deny, deny. It would simply go away if you didn’t acknowledge it. 
With that, you headed out of the bathroom and back into Rhett’s bedroom, where you set your shower items down and made sure to hang your towel on the hook mounted on the back of the door. 
Then, with a deep breath for courage, you made your way downstairs. 
There was a flurry of activity happening. Cecilia was prepping Sunday dinner, while Zara and Jeslyn were gathering plates and silverware to set the table outside. Danny, Finn, and Rhett were carrying chairs outside.
Royal and Amy were in the living room, where she was very intently watching him whittle a figurine out of wood. Cecilia had likely shooed them out of the kitchen because there were enough people in the way as it was. 
For a moment, you stood there, in the middle of the house, taking in the sights and sounds, and it transported you back to the past. Sunday dinners with the Abbotts were always your favorite. Lydia and her family would join, and everyone would eat outside, weather permitting, just like they were going to do today. 
Many a good time was had around the large oak table that Rhett had built with his own hands when he was in high school, in woodworking class. One of the of the few classes he thrived in. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and it was still in good condition to this day. 
“Hey, y’alright?” Rhett’s low cadence filled your ears. You looked up to find him standing near, gaze soft. 
“I…yeah, I’m fine,” you assured him, “just reminiscing.”
He nodded. “Mm. Sure this brings back a lotta memories for you.”
“It does,” you agreed. 
He lingered for a moment. Then, with the lowering of his voice, he said, “I, uh, I’m sorry about earlier. Didn’t mean to walk in on ya like that.”
You cleared your throat, shaking your head. “No, don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”
“Good. That’s good.” He let his hands rest upon his hips, grimacing at the awkward silence that followed. 
“Guess I’d better see if your mom needs help,” you finally volunteered. 
“Uh, yeah. Yeah. I’m gon’ make sure the guys set up the table right.” He took a few steps backward before he turned and sauntered out the door. 
You breathed out a sigh, mentally berating yourself for the awkwardness. You hoped it wouldn’t linger for the rest of the day. 
Thankfully, it did not. Once dinner was ready and everyone was gathered around the table, the atmosphere melted into one of warmth and laughter. You didn’t feel like an outsider. The group of friends treated you like one of your own, and it did wonders to put you at ease. 
“I thought you’d like t’ hear this,” Rhett’s voice caught your attention from across the table. “Zara here’s workin’ on a way to stop twisters dead in their tracks.”
That definitely piqued your interest. You looked at her, where she sat between Rhett and Jeslyn. “Really? How do you plan to stop them?” You asked her, leaning forward in your seat. 
Tornadoes were impossible to stop. To your knowledge, no one had succeeded in doing so before. They were so unpredictable, one couldn’t possibly figure out when and where one was going to touch down fast enough to stop it. 
She sprang into her explanation. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s never been done before. But Jes and I have spent years coming up with a solution. There’s a lot of heat and moisture at the center of a twister. My theory is if you can cool down the center to the freezing point, you can stop the twister.”
You stared at her, eyes widening. There was no way it could work. Was there? “How would you cool it down?”
“Essentially, we release liquid nitrogen into the core of the tornado and it brings the temp way down.”
“Have you tested it out yet?” You inquired. You were still skeptical, but fascinated at the same time. 
Beside her, Jeslyn piped up. “We started small scale tests when we were still students at OU. Me, Zara, and some classmates built this machine that uses heat and moisture to simulate a tornado. Our nitrogen tests worked on it, but seeing as that was only a small, contained event…”
“You’d need a lot more nitrogen for the real thing,” you finished for her. 
“Yep.”
Zara continued where Jeslyn left off. “During the run we did this week, we decided to actually test it out and see if we could stop a twister. But…it failed miserably.” She laughed ruefully, and the rest of the team joined her, reliving the memory. 
You were struck with an odd feeling. Fear of missing out, maybe. Which shocked you, because you’d refused to go on the chase in the first place, because you couldn’t face your fears. Now you felt left out? It didn’t quite make sense to you. 
Maybe you did miss storm chasing, after all. 
“It’s hard to gauge how much nitrogen we need, especially because every tornado is different. We’ve been working on collecting as many tanks of nitrogen as we possibly can, but we also didn’t want to use up our whole reserve. We used half of it on what turned out to be an F3. Didn’t do shit,” Zara continued to explain, motioning animatedly with her hands as she spoke. Her face was incredibly expressive. 
You decided you really liked her. You could understand why Rhett enjoyed chasing with her. 
“So, how does that work? Like, do you set tanks of nitrogen on the ground and then open them and hope for the best, or?” You had so many questions, and you simply couldn’t hide your fascination. 
“We use that,” Rhett said, pointing over at his truck parked in the driveway. Hitched to the back was an open trailer, with several tanks of liquid nitrogen situated inside, metal gleaming in the light of the setting sun. 
“But how do you open them? Does someone have to open each one before the twister hits?” You suddenly became very aware of everyone’s eyes on you, and you shrank slightly. “Sorry, I know I’m asking a lot of questions.”
“No, you’re good!” Zara insisted, “it’s just, we’re all used to people telling us we’re crazy instead of actually showing interest.”
“I told ya she’d think it was cool,” Rhett said to her with a smile. He caught your eye. He still knew you well, even though time had driven you apart. 
“Basically, opening the tanks is up to us,” Finn piped up from beside you, motioning to Danny, who sat on the other side of him. He took a swig of his water before he continued. “We made these special remote control valves. As long as we’re within range, we can open the valves with the touch of a button and release the nitrogen into the air.”
“Honestly, it sounds crazy. But also brilliant,” you said, completely in awe. “You gotta show me all the equipment after dinner. I’ve never heard of anyone doing this kinda thing before.”
Part of you still doubted what they were trying to do would ever work. It went against all odds. Even if they did succeed in stopping a tornado, the method wasn’t necessarily feasible for stopping others in the future. It would require countless tanks of nitrogen and a lot of manpower. 
But just to be able to say one had stopped a tornado was a feat in and of itself. You couldn’t hold it against Zara for trying. It was clear she was passionate about her work and believed there was a possibility that it could be successful. 
The conversation around the dinner table soon shifted to other things. You noticed that none of them asked you about your storm chasing past. You wondered how much Rhett had told them, and if he’d instructed them not to ask about the details, at risk of upsetting you. 
It was very considerate of him, if he had. 
After dinner, everyone helped clean up while Cecilia ushered Amy upstairs, against the girl’s protests. “You’ve got school in the mornin’, early bedtime isn’t optional!” Her grandmother insisted. 
But Amy had to make sure she said goodnight to everyone first before she made the reluctant trudge up the stairs. Oh, to have the innocence of a child again, unwilling to go to bed because all the adults were still awake.
The evening carried on, and once the dishes were washed and the table was cleared, you were led outside to see all the equipment Zara had told you about. And what a setup it was.
The trailer attached to the back of Rhett’s truck was full of nitrogen tanks, sealed with remote controlled valves. The trailer itself was also remote controlled, according to Rhett. 
“Come see,” he motioned for you to follow as he opened the driver’s side door. He pointed at the center console, where there was a board of switches, framed by labels indicating what each switch was for. “Danny and Finn helped get this up an’ running. If we need t’ let the trailer go, all I gotta do is press a button and it’ll release. S’how we get the tanks in the path of the twister.”
You stared in amazement at the device. “How? Like, how do you figure out when to release the trailer? And how does it not just get blown away?”
A grin tugged at his mouth. “Figured that one out too.”
He led you to the side of the trailer, where he pointed at a compartment positioned directly between the wheels. “Soon as I get the trailer in place, I flip a switch and stakes lower outta this compartment here and into the ground. Usually we’re cuttin’ it close, but I can get the truck positioned in the path of the twister. Then I get the trailer settled and get the hell outta Dodge.”
“Then I hit the remote control for the tanks and release the nitrogen into the air,” Finn piped up eagerly.
“Meanwhile, Zara and I are tracking the storm pattern and trying to figure out exactly when to release the trailer,” came Jeslyn’s explanation.
You stared at all the equipment in total wonder. These people had thought of everything. More than you or Rhett ever had when you were chasing. Your operation then had been very bare bones, and really, you were just following storms for the fun of it. 
But this? This was an entire science experiment, and it was fascinating. Despite your refusal to chase again, you were very curious about what all of this would look like in action. If Zara ever succeeded in stopping a twister, she would make history. 
That was something you almost wanted to be a part of. Almost. 
Later that night, you found yourself curled up in an Adirondack chair, a blanket wrapped around your shoulders as everyone sat around the fire that Rhett had built in the old fire pit. The place held so many memories. Namely, the night Rhett had asked you to be his girlfriend. It was right here. 
He remembered that night, too. You could tell he was thinking about it when he caught your eye from across the fire. 
Around you, the group settled into comfortable conversation. The kind that happened when old friends got together. Anything and everything was discussed as the night gave way to inky darkness, the stars twinkling above, like glitter spilled across a black velvet canvas. 
Before she’d retired for the night, Cecilia had warmed some apple cider on the stove, and a mug of it was currently situated in your hands, its taste spicy and comforting. You enjoyed listening to Rhett’s friends tell stories of different storms they’d chased, reliving all the exciting times they’d had together.
You wondered if you would be running with them, too, had you stayed here instead of moving to Silver Springs and taking your weather analyst job. Would it just be you and Rhett, or would fate have still decided to bring these people into your life?
Their passion was admirable. Zara was a very driven individual, hellbent on making a difference. “If I could at least slow down a twister, even if it doesn’t fully stop it, think of all the lives we could save. That’s why I do all of this. I wanna protect people.”
That was just it, wasn’t it? Saving lives. You thought back to the fateful day you had lost Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia. If you’d had a way of slowing down that twister, or even stopping it altogether, perhaps they would still be here.
But you couldn’t think that way, because it was already done. There was no way to go back in time and save them. 
The thought made your chest ache, and you had to swallow the wave of grief that rose in your throat. Rhett caught your eye over the flames, and shot you a reassuring look, almost as if he knew what you were thinking.
To your relief, the subject soon changed from storm chasing, and moved on to lighter things. 
“Hey, rodeo’s on Saturday. We were all thinking of going together. You should totally join us!” Jeslyn suggested, nodding in your direction. 
“Yeah, you should!” Finn agreed.
That piqued your interest. “Sure, I’ll still be in town, so why not?” You hadn’t been to a rodeo in so long. Not since Rhett’s last ride, which had ended in disaster.
Jeslyn grinned over her mug of cider. “Great! We’re gonna have so much fun. We’ll take care of your ticket, so you don’t have to worry about it.” 
You raised a brow in surprise. “Really? You don’t have to do that.”
Everyone protested at once, insisting that they wanted the rodeo ticket to be their treat. You were touched at their generosity, and accepted the offer gratefully. Might as well make the most of your time in Wabang.
Soon, it was time for the group to disperse and head in their own respective ways. Rhett threw some sand over the dying embers, while everyone else folded up their chairs to store back in the barn. As you walked the group back to their cars, Zara turned to you, her face kind.
“I know you’ve got your reasons for choosing not to chase, I want you to know the invitation for you to join us is open, in case you ever change your mind,” she told you. 
You weren’t entirely sure what came over you then. Maybe it was your desire to make a difference. Maybe you were just foolish. But for whatever reason, you were emboldened enough to say, “y’know what? I’ve got a proposition.” You stole a glance at Rhett to make sure he was listening. “I’ll go on a chase with you guys if Rhett agrees to ride at next weekend’s rodeo.”
You knew Rhett. He had a competitive nature. He was going to say yes. Everyone’s eyes landed on him, awaiting his answer.
“Shoo-ee, you gonna accept that challenge, Rhett?” Danny asked with a grin, fully invested.
Beside you, Rhett grimaced. “Ain’t no way they’ll let me in the ring,” he protested.
“Does Beau still oversee the bull riding contestants?” You inquired.
You and Rhett both knew that Beau would agree to letting him ride, because only Beau Wilson was crazy enough to allow such a thing. 
“Yeah,” Rhett answered your question. He was well aware of the direction this was going.
“Then I’ll go talk to him. He’ll get you a spot in the ring. If you can handle it, that is.” You gave him a pointed look. 
“I can handle it, darlin’.” Despite the determination in his tone, the nickname settled over you like a warm embrace. He hadn’t called you that in so long. “So if I do this, you swear you’ll go on a run with us?”
“Pinky swear.” You held your hand out, pinky up.
Rhett eyed your hand for a moment before he linked his pinky finger with yours. “Fine. You got yourself a deal.”
Finn and Danny whooped in excitement, while Zara and Jeslyn looked between you and Rhett, bewildered. “Who would’ve thought you’d be the one to get him back on a bull? We always say he should try riding again, but he always says no,” Zara explained. 
You looked at Rhett, and he ducked his head, hand lifting to scratch the back of his neck. You swore you saw his ears turn red. “Guess he just needed some friendly competition,” you replied.
Not long after, goodbyes were said, and the group parted ways, climbing into their vehicles and driving off, leaving you and Rhett standing there in the driveway. Immediately, you realized that your proposition was a bit preposterous. 
“Oh my god, if you don’t want to ride, you don’t have to. I don’t know why I said that, I just…”
But he waved his hand, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ll do it. It’ll do me some good to get back on a bull. Just like it’ll do you some good to face another twister. Might help us both process some shit,” he reasoned.
You let out a breath. “Maybe so.”
You both turned to walk toward the house, and he asked you a question as you went. “What made you change your mind?”
You paused, glancing down at your feet before you looked at him. “I dunno, all of Zara’s talk about saving lives…it got me thinking. It would be so cool if it could work. Imagine all the people she could save! She’s making a difference, and I want to be a part of that.” And then, “maybe if…if we had something like that six years ago, Perry, Rebecca, and Lydia would still be alive.”
Rhett’s boots crunched against dirt as he absently kicked a few pebbles out of the way. “Don’t go spiralin’ into the ‘what ifs’. Universe saw fit to take ‘em, so it did. No machine could’ve stopped it. Not that kinda twister.”
You studied his expression. “Do you believe in Zara’s project?”
He shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I do, but there ain’t no way it would stop an EF5 tornado. We’d be fucked if it hit us.”
“It’s still worth a try, though, isn’t it? If it works, and if she can get it going on a larger scale…she could save entire towns from being destroyed! Think of the history she’s going to make!”
Rhett’s mouth curled into a slight smile. “There she is.”
“What?”
“My storm chasin’ gal. You’re back.”
You shrugged. “I guess so. But just know this isn’t a permanent thing, ‘kay? I’m only going out there with you guys to see how Zara’s invention works. After that, I’m going back to Silver Springs. To my job, where I don’t have to live off of McDonald’s and Whataburger every day and stay in shitty motels while I wait for a twister to just fall out of the sky.”
He bit back his ever-widening grin, shaking his head. “Sure thing. I’m just glad you decided to face your fear, s’all.”
Facing your fear. That was what this was, wasn’t it? You knew that  if you could do this, it would show you that you were capable of moving past your grief that still felt crippling at times. But you couldn’t help but wonder; when staring into the face of a tornado, would you be able to stand your ground, or would you let your fear send you running like a frightened child?
You would soon find out. But you didn’t realize just how soon. 
*read the next part here
-
taglist: tagging those who expressed interest or asked to be tagged (lmk if you wanna be added or removed)
@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @peachystenbrough @attapullman
@sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fragilefearnie @floydsmuse
@fairyheart @hangmanapologist @lovinglyeternal @likearolloftape @bobfloydsbabe
@nobody7102 @mearslot @torturedpoetspsychward @floydsglasses @hearteyesforlewis
@shamelessghostwagonwobbler @cloudofbutterflies92 @keep-on-burnin @ravenmoore14 @queenbbarnes
@phoenixhalliwell @lyn-js @sunsetsimpsblog @ixxvixcviii @shinycupcakebaker
@frequentnosebleeder @atoncments @eolsens @casuallyclassless @desert-fern
@perfectprettypisces @parcetamoldaisy @zirrocom @rhettsgirll @just-in-case-iloveyou
@ada--44 @sydney-malcontent @9ullmans @bradshawsbitch
@callsignmedusa @antiquitea @ohmyeyesmyeyes @spidervman @oddlymighty-witch @dreams-in-anthracis
251 notes · View notes
ferrstappen · 1 year ago
Note
Dad Lando has my whole heart 😭😭😭 could you write something of the drivers first time meeting Amelia? Or her fist time in the paddock?.. anything I just love dad Lando and your writing style 🧡
meet & greet l dad!Lando Norris x reader
The existence of baby Amalia Norris, no middle name just like her dad, was a well known secret, but a secret nonetheless.
There were never rumors about you being pregnant, but when the season started, mechanics and staff of every team, tv channel, you name it, started talking about Lando Norris and how he supposedly had a baby with his girlfriend.
Norris? No way, he's still a child himself
There's no way, the girlfriend would have to raise two babies and she looks smarter than that.
McLaren team members, especially those closer to Lando, were often asked about it by other people, but they were warned by the high commands to keep it private until Lando and you wanted to confirm it. Even if Adam Norris was often gushing about his youngest granddaughter and how she smiled just for him.
Max Verstappen once unwired himself after a reporter asked him about it. Carlos once pretended he didn't hear and the next time he just asked for another question.
The closest people on the grid already met her, she was six months old already and was completely used to the presence of uncle Max, uncle Carlos, uncle Oscar and uncle Danny, others had seen Amalia once or twice, but didn't really have the honorary uncle title.
There were so many talks between you and Lando, him being the most reticent to bringing your daughter to the paddock, not only because of the noises and movements, but someone was going to get a picture eventually, her face being everywhere, on stranger’s camera rolls and Instagram accounts.
"Why don't we make an announcement on our terms, then?"
Lando understood your idea, he really did, but he didn't owe anything to anyone. Yes, in the early months of your relationship he'd be posting stories and pictures to his .jpg account, but he never openly talked about you, your name and relationship was one of the few prohibited subjects for reporters and his PR team made sure everyone knew it.
But, this time was different because this was his daughter, and she was too precious, too beautiful for people to just look at her perfectly shaped face, beautifully colored eyes, adorably cute pout, even when she was drooling from giggling too much or sleeping to deeply.
But it was Silverstone, this wasn’t an ordinary occasion or an ordinary race, it was his home race and this time both you and him knew it was the right time to bring her to the paddock, just for the race day and trying to keep her out of the public’s eyes and constant cameras following his every step.
The night before you were searching her closet to find the perfect outfit for the ever changing English weather. Lando was holding Amalia on his arms, giggling along her as she played with the messy curls on top of his head.
“What do you want to wear for your first race, pretty girl?” Lando asked his daughter who just stared at him and enjoyed the rocking motion of his arms.
A white dress with orange daisies seemed like the perfect option, with one of her daddy’s papaya bucket hats made just for her. It was the perfect outfit for what was going to be a very memorable day.
And of course it was.
At first, fans and press were surprised Lando didn’t arrive on the track with his McLaren, instead his dad was driving a black Mercedes, polarized windows that only caught a glimpse of you through the front glass. Lando made sure everything was fine with the credentials before exiting the car, drawing the attention to himself at the same time Adam prepared the baby stroller and you placed Amalia, laughing at Lando’s dad who refused to give you the stroller.
You shyly waved your hand to the people saying your name, greeting some known faces before finally reaching the McLaren garage, where Zak was the first one to reach Adam and carefully lifting the visor and greeting Amalia who instantly recognized him.
She soon started crying, demanding to be picked up and instantly stopping when she noticed people were staring at her in awe, new faces smiling at her and waving, but the biggest smiled appeared when she noticed her papa, wearing a matching hat and taking her from your arms.
That’s how people got to meet baby Amalia Norris, who sported the same mischievous glint on her eyes, and loudly giggled when uncle Carlos arrived to the papaya garage. He was too patient with her, letting the baby play with his fingers, grab his Ferrari hat, wrap her fists on his hair and Carlos just kept talking as if his niece wasn’t tugging on his hair.
It was all a blur when Lando got to the parc fermé, parking on the big number one place, almost falling from the car before jumping into the crowd of papaya mechanics and staff waiting for him, and everyone noticed how his eyes lit up when he saw his dad and you away from the crowd, with his baby girl clapping her hands and letting out the loudest and happiest giggles, especially when Lando took her from your arms and leaving a loud kiss on her cheek before trying to hide her face on his neck and reaching to you, kissing your lips.
He received his trophy, sang his national anthem and ended the day handing his precious camera to Daniel.
It was already dark, most people were leaving as Lando grabbed your waist with one arm, the trophy with another as you held Amalia in your hip, in front of Lando’s winner car.
lando.jpg: silverstone 2024. do I need to say more?
ps: please do not repost pictures of our daughter online, I’m sharing this because it’s one of the best days of my life and wanted to celebrate with my favorite girls (and my car).
2K notes · View notes
man-i-love-fanfiction · 1 month ago
Text
Double Babysitter - Hozier x fem! reader
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Summary: You and Andrew end up with the tough task of babysitting your friend's child together.
Word Count: 6,325
Author’s Note: hi hi hi!!!! this is my first real fanfic, i’ve written little things here or there but this is the only full fic i’ve written. shoutout to the wonderful @deprivedmusicaljunkie for beta reading this, im so grateful for u! this is based on the Bluey episode Double Babysitter, it's not required watching but if you want to watch it to understand the fic better you can. i hope you enjoy!!!
ALSO: I do not know Hozier in real life, nor do i claim to. This is a fictionalized (ish) version of him. All other characters featured are fictional. Now, enjoy!
fic under the cut <3
Tumblr media
Andrew was always vaguely aware of the fact that he was getting older. He had spotted the occasional gray patch in his stubble, noticed a faint wrinkle somewhere on his face. He even felt his back ache every now and again, but he had always brushed it off.
It wasn't until he had been asked by an old friend from college to babysit his daughter that he can say he actually felt old.
Of course, he wasn't complaining. He had met the young girl only a few times, but to say she held a special place in his heart would be an understatement. He had just finished up the last leg of his tour, so he had all the time in the world back at home. And he did owe Liam and Quinn, her parents, a favor. They deserved to have a night out just the two of them; watching their daughter was the least he could do.
He took this responsibility very seriously. He was even on time, arriving at 6pm on the dot, as instructed (given, it was only because he told himself he had to be there at 5:30).
He walked up to their doorstep, gave their door a few light knocks, and stepped back. It took a moment, but he could hear his friend’s voice call for Quinn through the door before watching it unlock. Liam opened the door with a puzzled expression that had Andrew wondering if he somehow showed up on the wrong day.
“Andrew, you're here… on time? Are you feeling okay?”
“Ha ha, very funny.” He replied sarcastically, accompanied by an eye roll. They greeted each other, Liam widened the door, and Andrew stepped inside.
“Honey, the babysitter’s here!” Liam shouted up the staircase. Quinn quickly emerged with open arms and gave Andrew a quick squeeze once she reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Andrew! It's great to see you. How long has it been?” She asked.
“About… six months, I’d say. The week before I left for the States.”
“That's much too long. We need to actually go out sometime soon.”
They spent a few minutes standing around and catching up, swapping stories about their jobs (including a concert story or two). It gave Andrew a moment to appreciate these smaller, mundane moments that seemed to slowly be becoming a rarity. He was mid-sentence when he was caught off guard by the pitter-patter of small footsteps rushing towards him.
“Uncle Andy!” He glanced down, finding a little girl already latched on to his leg; Katie, the reason he’d been asked to babysit. He reached down to pat her head, ruffling the little one’s hair.
“Hey there, lass! How are you?”
A muffled noise that sounded something like ‘I’m good’ came from the girl as she buried her face in his leg.
His sentence was cut off at the sound of another knock at the door.
“That's odd. I don't think I’m expecting anyone-” Quinn started, interrupted by Liam opening the door to find you standing on their front step. You didn’t even notice the surprised looks on everyone’s faces as you entered, blindsided by your excitement.
“Hey,” you said, giving Liam a side hug before moving on to Quinn and doing the same. Katie let go of Andrew’s leg and rushed over to you, joyfully screaming your name. A wide grin grew on your face at the sight of her, and Andrew couldn’t help but notice how beautiful your smile was. He immediately snapped himself out of it once he realized he had no idea who you were, let alone what you were even doing here.
“Hi, Katie Cat!” you exclaimed. He watched as you pulled her into an embrace, not noticing his presence until you pulled away. You looked up at him, your gaze meeting his, smile fading in awe.
“Y/N, this is my Uncle Andy,” Katie explained as she held on to your hand, quickly dragging you towards him until there was maybe a foot between you two before pointing upwards. A thought flashed across Andrew’s mind: Is this five-year-old playing matchmaker?
“Hi.”
“Hi.”
“Have you met my friend Andrew before?” Liam asked.
“You do seem familiar. Didn’t you get drunk and sing Take Me To Church at the wedding?”
“Probably.”
“Oh my god, Y/N, I am so sorry. I think I double-booked myself and accidentally asked both of you to watch Katie,” Quinn admitted. “Again, so sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”
“It’s alright. He got here first. I’ll just go, then. Leave you to it,” you decided, admittedly a little disappointed but understanding the whole scenario. You took a step back, turning to go before a small hand grabbed yours, stopping you in your tracks.
“Don't go! You can both stay.” Katie begged, puppy dog eyes in full effect. It's like she knew exactly how to tug on your heartstrings, because after that you were willing to stay for as long as she wanted. But you still needed permission.
“I mean, as long as it's okay with… Uncle Andy.”
Andrew gave you a nod, perhaps a bit too quickly. He couldn't tell if it was because he already knew he was going to need help with this, or because he simply wanted to be in your company. Either way, both were true.
“Two babysitters it is.” He conceded.
“Hooray!” She yelled, latching herself onto your leg as she had done to Andrew's just moments before. You looked down at her, a warm smile returning to your face, before looking back up at him. All three of you could tell this was going to be… an interesting night, to say the least.
Tumblr media
Before they left, Liam and Quinn had given you two very lenient instructions. All you had to do was put Katie to bed by 8:30 and watch the house until they got home around 10. Everything else was fair game. Easy enough of a job for two grown adults. However, the way that your night started at their kitchen table made you wonder if perhaps their rules were too permissive.
You were sat across from each other, you and Andrew on the same side, Katie on the other. It oddly felt like you were being interrogated by this small child. Which, after offering a game of 20 questions so you could get to know each other better, wasn't exactly far off from reality.
“Why do I feel like she's going to ask me why I was at the scene of the crime?” he asked you in a whisper, leaning towards you. Andrew swore he could feel his heart skip a beat as you chuckled at his remark, and he was relieved as you revealed you felt the same.
“The real question is, is she Good Cop or Bad Cop?” You replied in the same hushed tone.
“Oh, bad cop. I’ve done this with her before, and when she wants to know something she’ll badger you until she gets an answer.”
“Perfect. She can be my lawyer in about twenty years.”
That elicited a laugh out of Andrew, a small chuckle that caught Katie’s attention.
“What's funny?” She asked, genuinely feeling like she missed out on your conversation.
“It's nothing.” You changed the subject to convince her it was inconsequential. “Why don't we get started? Ask us anything,” you instructed, regretting the words as soon as they left your mouth, mostly because of the next words that came out of Katie’s.
“Why don't you have a wife?” She turned to Andrew, whose mouth was now agape. Your own eyes had widened, shocked by the boldness of her first question before remembering she is a little girl that hadn't yet developed a filter.
“You haven't seen me in a while. How do you know I don't?” He retorted, a lazy attempt at deflecting the question.
“Do you have a wife?”
“Well, no…”
“Then why don't you have a wife?”
“Ehm… I think it's her turn.” He tilted his head in your direction. Katie agreed with a nod and thought for a beat. Once she formulated her question, her attention turned to you.
"How many friends do you have?”
“God, I don't know… four? Five?”
“That's not a lot. Why do you only have five friends?”
“Good question… back to him!”
Katie turned.
“How come I don’t see you often?”
“Because usually I’m on tour.”
“Is that why you don’t have a wife?”
“Huh. Maybe.”
“Do you want to get married?”
“Yes,” you both said. You exchanged a glance, surprised you both had the same answer. The girl across the table was oblivious to this small moment you shared, and immediately went back to her questioning.
“Will Tommy be the husband?” Katie leaned across the table, an excited gleam in her eye.
Tommy. Your ex. Last time Katie had seen you, you two were in love, almost madly. However, a lot can happen in four months, and you found yourself having to explain a breakup (a particularly messy one, at that) to this naive girl. You let out a sigh.
“No. Me and Thomas… we aren't really friends anymore”
“But you said he was your true love.”
“Not anymore! Next question. Please.”
“True love is forever. Is true love not forever?”
“It is! It is.”
“Then how come you and Tommy aren't friends?”
“Well, Tommy — Thomas,” you corrected yourself before continuing, your words stunted, “and I weren't as good together as we thought. It took longer than it should've to realize, but we couldn't work. Kind of like when you’re doing a puzzle, and it looks like two pieces fit, but when you try to put them together, they don't.”
It was like you could watch the gears turn in Katie’s little head; she was trying as hard as she could to imagine your comparison. Meanwhile, Andrew was watching you as you thought, mentally praising you for not only putting into words something obviously painful for you, but explaining in terms a kid could understand. Despite the supposed ‘way with words’ he had, he knew it would take him several tries and multiple rough drafts to do the same. He let you continue, his eyes never leaving your face.
“It’s just sometimes, you think someone is your true love, when actually they’re not. Sometimes some things aren't meant to be. And that’s okay. No matter how sad it makes the both of you afterwards, or how upset you get…”
Your sentence trailed off, your throat closing up with that all-too-familiar feeling you recognized immediately. All of this had happened months ago; the breakup between you and Thomas had devastated you of course, but you had recovered. But having to explain the complicated events between you two in such a straightforward way, to put all the emotions you felt into simple terms, made it all seem real. And it only made those feelings resurface.
Andrew could tell something was off. He, of course, had no idea about this past relationship, and frankly, it was none of his business. What was his business, however, was how you looked like you were about to cry, how he could see the tears in your eyes welling up. He wasn't about to let you shed a tear over this. So, he attempted a diversion.
“Alright, I think we're done playing 20 questions. How about a movie?” He stood up, a feigned smile on his face. Your eyes lit up at his suggestion and you stood up after him, following suit.
“You know what? Good idea. Katie, why don’t you go find something to watch with Andrew and I’ll make popcorn, get some snacks ready?”
For a moment you worried she wouldn’t comply and more innocently personal questions would be coming your way. However, Katie didn't seem to mind this interjection, immediately agreeing and hurrying over to the living room to find the TV remote.
You both watched as she scurried away before looking back at each other eyes meeting for the first time that night. A few seconds were spent just staring into his eyes, noticing how very green they were. This captivation distracted you from the awkward silence that filled the air between you. You broke eye contact first, stepping around your chair and pushing it in. You walked into the kitchen, the footsteps you heard behind you letting you know he followed you. You didn't speak until you knew Katie would be out of earshot.
“Thank you,” you said sincerely.
“No problem. I completely get it.”
“Jesus, my first babysitting gig and I almost cried. At this rate, I’ll have to go back to selling lemonade to make ends meet.”
He let out a laugh, and the sight of it made a smile tug at the corner of your lips, though you couldn't shake the feeling you looked a bit… pathetic.
“ You probably think I’m a loser, huh?”
“No! No, absolutely not. Love, breakups, endings … dealing with that stuff isn't easy. If I thought it was, I wouldn't write songs on the matter for a living. Having to explain it to a kid without crushing her dreams is even harder. If anything, I commend you for it.”
For a reason you couldn't immediately explain, his praise actually managed lighten your mood, to the point where you had to suppress the urge to grin from ear to ear.
“What is it?” Andrew asked, as if to tell you your smile hadn't gone unnoticed.
“That was… just really nice of you to say.”
“I mean, it's true.”
The room filled with silence for a moment before you broke it.
“Do you think we could just forget that the whole thing ever happened and get on with the night?”
“Absolutely. It's forgotten,” he agreed, borderline erasing it from his memory as soon as you asked. His attention shifted as he yelled into the other room.
“Katie, have you ever seen The Princess Bride?”
Andrew went off into the living room, following Katie, and a smile grew on your face as you looked through the pantry for microwave popcorn.
Tumblr media
It took a solid ten minutes of searching due to the plethora of streaming services Liam and Quinn had, but you finally found The Princess Bride. Katie brought down some blankets from her room in the meantime. Given, because they came from a six-year-old’s bedroom, they were patterned with Disney characters and unicorns, but they were comfortable all the same. You sat on opposite sides of the couch, a bowl of popcorn equidistant between the both of you, and for a reason only her little brain could rationalize, Katie was sitting on the floor.
You looked at the screen in awe like it was your first time watching, when in actuality you’d seen the movie more times than you could count. You mouthed the words of the most famous lines, almost subconsciously, as to not disturb the little one’s first viewing experience. Of course, you also snuck a few glances at Andrew when the screen held less of your attention. Okay, maybe more than a few glances. It was the first time that night you both could actually relax, and you took the moment to size him up. His hair, which was up in a man-bun at the beginning of the night, had since been let down, brown curls now loosely framing his face. He wore a white sweatshirt and black jeans. On his feet were white Converse that were clearly well-loved, to say the least. Despite how casual it all was, he really pulled it off. It almost made you wish you could raid his closet, see what other unexpectedly stylish clothes he had in his possession, maybe steal a sweater on the way out.
Oddly enough, it felt natural, being this comfortable on opposite sides of the couch with a man that might as well be a stranger. It’s almost like you wouldn’t mind if this was your house, your television, your kid-
You were snapped out of your thoughts by the clapping you heard from Katie’s spot on the floor as the credits rolled.
“So what did you think?” Andrew asked. Katie’s gaze broke from the screen to look at him.
“I wanna watch it again!”
“You can watch it again another time with mum and dad.”
“I want to watch it now!”
“Katie, the movie’s over, and it's 8 at night. Get upstairs, put on your pajamas, and brush your teeth.” He scolded as he got up from his spot on the couch. He bent down, resting his hands on his knees.
“I said I wanna watch it again!”
“It's getting late, you have to get ready for-”
“Again! Again! Again!” She stomped. You knew she was bound to have a tantrum any second now. Something that, judging by the concerned on his face, Andrew had no idea how to handle. It seemed like it was your turn to come to the rescue.
You got up from your seat, walking over to Andrew to stand by his side (figuratively and literally).
“Could you help me out here?” He asked, his frustration with her slowly growing.
“Watch and learn.”
You turned to Katie and crouched down to be on her level.
“Do you want to play a game?”
She didn't give a verbal answer, but based on her frown immediately disappearing and her head nodding so rapidly you thought it might fall off, you could assume what she would say. You thought for a moment before continuing.
“All you have to do to play is go upstairs and do everything you would usually do right before you go to bed. I’m going to set a timer, and if you’ve done everything and you're in bed before the timer, you win. Got the rules?”
“Yep!” She squeaked, her excitement evident.
“Alright. Ready… set… go!”
She quickly ran out of the living room and up the stairs, leaving the two of you left stunned for a moment. You both got up from your crouching, and you craned your neck upward to be met with, to your surprise, a look of amazement from Andrew.
“I swear, you must be magic.”
You deflected his praise almost immediately.
“Please, I’m not even close to being magic. I just know that kids will do anything if you turn it into a game.”
“Which is a level of sorcery that I can only wish to achieve!”
“If we end up babysitting again, you can always become my apprentice.”
“Offering a second date already?”
You knew he was teasing, but the romantic suggestion was enough to make your heart pound in your chest. You responded the only way you knew how.
“Shut up…”
You bantered and talked, taking advantage of the very little time you had to try and get to know each other (past the deep secrets you already knew from Katie’s questions). Your conversation immediately felt as if you knew each other for years, not hours. There was almost a click to it; the back and forth between the two of you happened easily, naturally. But, like all things, it couldn't last forever. After about ten minutes, a small voice yelled from up the stairs:
“I’m done!”
“We’ve been summoned.” Andrew stated.
He started walking towards the staircase, and nodded his head to tell you to come along. You caught up to him with no hesitation.
Tumblr media
Andrew opened the door to Katie’s room and took a look around. It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry to Barbies, were scattered across the floor. Her drawings, mostly scribbles of rainbows and cartoons and her family, hung on her wall. Stuffed animals and fuzzy blankets were contained in a chest in the foot of her bed. After a moment, he held the door wider, giving you room to walk inside. You thanked him and walked over to the side of Katies bed. A bit unsure of what to do, Andrew stood behind you as you talked to Katie.
It was as messy as one expects a five-year-old’s bedroom to be. Toys, anything from fake jewelry
“Hey, you tricked me!”
“Yeah, I did. But now that you're all ready for bed and tucked in, aren't you tired?”
“I guess,” she started, a yawn interrupting her thought, “I am.”
“Then it's time for you to go to bed. Good night Katie Cat.”
You leaned in to place a kiss on her forehead before Katie let out a yelp.
“Wait! I can’t go to bed yet. I need a story.” She whined. “Mum and dad tell me a story every night before bed. I can't sleep without it.”
“What do you want it to be about?”
“Can it be about a princess? Like the movie?”
“Sure. Well, there was-”
“It needs to start with ‘once upon a time’.”
“Does it really have to?”
“Yes.”
“Alright then,” you conceded, knowing as much as you wanted to protest, she wouldn't let it go.“Once upon a time, there was a princess… that was trapped in a tower… guarded by a dragon.”
“Wow, that’s never been done before,” you heard him whisper behind you. You looked over your shoulder and shot him a small look of disapproval.
“Well, to her it's original. Just go with it,” you chided before continuing.
“As I was saying, there was a princess trapped in a tower. And there was a prince,” you turned behind you again, mouthing ‘that's you’ to the man behind you, “that was trying to rescue her.”
“Can I be the dragon?” Katie asked eagerly.
“Whatever you want, dear.” You replied, giving her approval. Katie let out a roar and, shockingly, Andrew got into character, already miming holding a sword and shield.
“Hello, Ms. Dragon. Listen, I have to slay you. I’m not happy about it either. It's the only way to save the princess.”
He gave you a quick glance, one you would've missed if you had blinked in the wrong moment. He returned his focus to ‘the dragon’.
“I usually am a pacifist, so I truly hate to do this, but I must…”
He faked a lunge towards her and began to tickle her, making both of them double over in laughter. You attempted to engrave the memory into your mind in fear that you would never experience a moment as heartwarming as this one again. He gave up after thirty seconds, standing up again.
“And just like that, the dragon was defeated!” You announced.
“Now the princess needs to marry the prince!” Katie yelled, almost commanded.
“What?” Andrew asked, more confused than opposed. Katie only gave him a disapproving look, which was enough to make him comply.
He knelt down on one knee and scoured the ground for something that had caught his eye before: a toy ring. He snatched it off her messy floor and held it towards you in an extended hand.
“Princess, I have rescued you from the dragon. Now, should you say yes, I would like to have you as my wife.”
This wasn't necessarily the most romantic moment of your life, but for some reason, it definitely made the list. A fact that was a bit pitiful, sure, but still very true. Which was exactly why you- technically, the princess- needed to take the story in an alternate direction. It was a personal way to protect your ego.
“And the princess said… no thanks.” Surely that would save your self-esteem from his imaginary judgment. To your surprise, it did the opposite. His brows furrowed in confusion, and his smile dropped.
“What? Why wouldn't the princess want to marry the prince?” He asked, trying to give you a look as if to tell you to just go with it. You, of course, got the message, but decided to lean more into your own narrative.
“She didn’t like the look of him.” Lie. But one that kept the girl entertained, her laughs growing louder.
“Why not?” Andrew couldn’t help but feel just a little offended, even though he knew everything you were saying was intended lightheartedly, the real purpose being to entertain the girl.
“Well, he was a bit lanky, for starts.”
“That’s not exactly something the prince can control. You have to cut him some slack there.”
“And his hair was better than hers! It was beautiful. All long and curly and fluffy. The princess simply wasn’t having it.”
“Wait, you think my hair is-.”
“And to top it all off, he was tall! Very tall. She’d have to go on her tiptoes just to kiss him, which, honestly Katie, gets very inconvenient.”
Andrew was about to counter, the words on the tip of his tongue, but stopped himself upon hearing the fits of giggles escaping Katie. He decided to let the moment be, taking in both your and Katie’s smiles from this new perspective.
You turned, your face showing your feigned contemplation. For a brief moment, you enjoyed the fact this might be the only time you'll be taller than him. A sigh escaped your lips and your eyes rolled, but you couldn't hide the smile on your face.
“I guess the princess could try and give the prince a chance.”
He looked back up at you, giving you a sheepish grin.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
He took your hand and carefully placed the ring on your finger, as gentle as he would be if it was made of diamond and not plastic. His calloused fingers wrapped around your hand, undoubtedly hardened by all the guitar he’d played over the years. The feeling of his hands on yours, him looking up at you, the way his eyes were staring into yours with such admiration, it all almost felt like a real proposal. Not one that came after slaying a dragon, but after years of knowing and loving each other. One that came before celebratory kisses and preparing for a wedding. One that made your heart stir and your mind wander, only stopped when you heard him mutter something.
“You kinda have to finish the story.”
Right. The story. His words snapped you out of your deep thought, and you blinked a few times as you focused back on reality and not what you’d made up in your head about the man you'd only known for about two hours. The gorgeous, tall, kind, funny man you had only known for two hours. You cleared your throat.
“So, the princess finally said yes to him. And then they got married and they all lived happily ever after!”
You took a bow, as if you had just finished up a broadway worthy performance. Andrew, however, stayed in his spot on the floor still kneeling, something you only noticed when you looked up to smile at him to find empty space where you expected his head to be. You looked down at him and whispered.
“You can get up now, you know.”
“Oh. Right.”
He got up and did his own small bow before making an announcement.
“Alright, story’s over. Time to go to sleep.”
Though she had enjoyed it, by the end of your story (performance?) Katie's eyes were already drooping, so she had no more hostility towards going to bed. You walked over and stood on the left side of her bed, Andrew on the right.
“Goodnight, Katie-Cat. Sweet dreams.” You said softly before placing a small kiss on her forehead. He quickly did the same, placing a kiss on her forehead as well.
“Goodnight, Katie. Sleep well.”
He paused for a moment before adding on something you hadn't expected.
“I love you.”
As if your heart couldn't melt any more.
“Love you too, Uncle Andy.” She mumbled before making herself comfortable, snuggling up under her blanket; it was almost a signal for you to leave the room. You both obeyed, walking towards her door frame. You flipped the light switch, leaving the room in darkness, and closed her door behind you both.
You hated to admit it, but a smile grew on both of your faces.
Unsure of how to celebrate (a handshake was too formal, a high-five was too loud), after an awkward rotation of gestures, you settled on a fist bump.
Does fist-bumping a man ten minutes after calling his hair beautiful count as mixed signals?
“We did it!” You whisper-shouted after your small celebration. Andrew's tone mirrored yours as he spoke.
“Jesus, is this what being a parent feels like?”
“I hope not. No offense to you, but I’m miserable.”
“Oh no, the pounding headache’s got to you too?”
“That and the back pain from all the crouching over.”
“At times I could feel my hair turning gray.”
“What I’m hearing is that you could also go for a cup of tea right about now.”
“That's exactly correct. However, this isn't our house, which means it's not our place to make tea.”
“It can be if you give me two minutes.”
You shot Quinn a quick text to ask.
hey. is it alright if me and andrew make some tea? I know you said we could do whatever but i feel bad if you're not home.
It took a minute, but Quinn replied.
i trust you both so much i’d let you cook a three-course meal without me home. go ahead and brew your tea.
“Well, we’ve got Quinn’s approval.”
You showed him the text, and he let out a soft chuckle, nodding. You both headed down the stairs as quickly (and quietly) as possible.
Tumblr media
You returned to the kitchen and began to look for teabags while Andrew looked for a kettle. You didn’t dare to make a mess, so you both just closed and opened drawers until you found exactly what you needed. He filled the kettle and placed it on the stove while you made the hard decision between chamomile and earl grey; you immediately made your decision when he made a comment about chamomile being his favorite.
You leaned on opposite sides of the counter, the stove between the two of you. After a minute you fell into a silence that was comfortable, but unwanted. It was the first time that night you had the freedom of being alone now that Katie was fast asleep, yet you had no idea what to do with yourselves. Biting at your lower lip, you thought of something to say.
“Hey, we did a pretty good job being her court jesters for the night.” You finally commented. Andrew nodded his head before jokingly correcting your statement.
“More accurately, we did a good job being her prince and princess.”
“Almost made me think I should’ve pursued a career in acting.”
“You have to give some credit to your co-star here, as well.”
“Oh, absolutely. Oscar-winning performance. I appreciate you incorporating props, as well.”
“One of the greatest improv moments of my career.”
“I had no idea I was in the presence of such a legend. ” You said barely, being able to hold back your laughter. Your conversation fell back into a now-familiar rhythm. The topics started anywhere from how you knew Quinn to how much you both loved Katie, but as you went on you diverted to your favorite movies snd Andrew’s interest in classical literature. The only interruption was the whistle of the kettle, which you had almost forgotten about. Andrew took it upon himself to prepare the tea, even after you insisted that you would take over. Instead, you actually took in the kitchen, finding something unexpected on the counter.
You were both surprised that Liam and Quinn actually owned a radio.
“Do you mind if I put on some music?” He asked.
“Not at all.” You stepped to the side, giving him permission to turn the radio on.
He twisted the knob of the radio, searching for a station for a moment before stopping. He landed on a station playing jazz, turning up the volume as he recognized the tune: A Kiss To Build A Dream On by Louis Armstrong. Instinctively, he tapped his foot to the beat.
You both stood in silence, one that almost drowned out the song playing. This silence was just strong enough for you to formulate an idea. You liked this song, you were bored, and most importantly, you wanted to be close to him. So you decided to take a risk. You extended a hand in his direction.
“Care for a dance?”
It took him a moment to process your question out of shock. After a few seconds, he stuttered out his answer, his gaze shifting to your hand.
“I- No, I couldn't. I have two left feet. I’d probably be… stepping on your toes the entire time.”
You shrugged.
“Who cares? It's just us, and I’m not gonna judge you.” You reassured him, motioning for him to join you.
Andrew was quickly learning he couldn't say no to you.
He gave in, taking one of your hands in his and placing the other one on your waist. At first, you awkwardly kept your distance between each other, like two teens during a slow song at their school dance. However, you got more into a rhythm as time went on, eventually getting comfortable enough with him to rest your head on his chest, as close as you could get to his shoulder with his height. Andrew was hoping you were more focused on dancing so you couldn’t feel his heart beat out of his chest. He kept his promise of stepping on your toes, mumbling a “Sorry!” every time he did so. He wasn't as bad as he made himself out to be. He even tried to spin you by the second chorus, almost crashing you into him, but helping you regain your balance. Laughter was your only response to any of this.
Much to the dismay of you both, the song ended, and you pulled away from each other. You missed his touch, your hand buzzing from the sudden change. Another song began to play from the radio: I’m In The Mood For Love by Julie London. Christ, it was like the universe was sending you a sign. Everything else throughout the night had all led up to this.
You could barely process what was happening when Andrew placed his lips on yours.
The kiss was small and chaste, cautious in case you didn't reciprocate. It was so sudden that you forgot to kiss him back, just absorbing the moment that you had slowly been longing for more and more throughout the night. When he pulled away, all he saw was the astonishment and shock on your face. He didn't notice how your gaze was fixated on his lips, and instead frantically began to apologize.
“Shit, I misread you, didn't I? I’m so sorry, I apologize. You have every reason to be upset with me.”
His suggestion made you laugh.
“Are you kidding me? That's all I've wanted all night.”
You saw something change in his demeanor, and he let out a sigh of relief.
“It's alright if I kiss you again, then?”
“Yes! Yes. Please do.”
As soon as you gave him permission, he placed his hands on the sides of your face and pulled you close to him.
Another thing about the universe is that not only does it send signs, it tends to have impeccable timing; just as Andrew leaned in to kiss you again, you heard the front door unlock. Quinn’s voice rang through the hallway.
“Hey, I don't know if you got my text, but there wasn't that much traffic so we got home… Oh. I see we're interrupting something."
You both let go of each other, a look of guilt like you’d been caught doing something illegal. Thankfully, Quinn was no cop.
“I’m not mad or anything. Just happy you waited until Katie was asleep to start swapping spit.”
You both thanked her, ignoring a passing comment she made about how she “always did think you’d be good for each other”. You said your goodbyes, hugging Liam and Quinn with smiles and faces that were still flushed from earlier. You waved them a final goodbye and walked out onto the patio together, Andrew holding the door for you again. You were alone together again.
“So, do you think we could pick up from where we left off before?” You asked a mischievous glint in your eye.
“I thought you'd never ask.”
He finally leaned down to kiss you again, holding your face gently. This time, you reciprocated, placing your hand on the nape of his neck to keep him as close as possible. It was slow, as if both of you decided to take your time; a gentle precursor for all the kisses to come in the future. Your hands made their way into his hair, his making their way to your waist. You stay like that for what could have been forever for all that you care, but's only a minute.You both pulled away to get some air, small pants escaping your mouths. Andrew looked down at you with wonder, a smile growing on his face.
“You really are magic.” He mumbled.
“Still not magic. Just… me.” You deflected again.
“Is there a difference?” He asked rhetorically. He let out a sigh before speaking again.
“ Y/N… God, I feel like a teenager saying this, but… would you want to go on a date sometime? A proper one, with no babysitting or playing pretend. Just me and you and staring at a painting or a sunset or each other's faces.” He rambled, taking a deep breath. “Whatever you want.”
Letting out a laugh, you replied.
“I would love to.”
You gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“Good night, Andrew."
“Good night, Y/N.”
Andrew gave you one last peck on the lips before you, unfortunately, went your separate ways for the night. Walking back to your car, you also couldn’t help but feel like a teenager, but because he made you so… giddy, so willing to start something new with him. You could barely keep down the butterflies in your stomach. All of this caused by coincidence, a bit of fate, and a babysitting gig. Not how you thought the night was going to go, but perhaps the most pleasant surprise you’d ever had.
You got into your car, and tuned the radio to the same station as before. All the songs remind you of him.
You had the stupidest smile on your face the entire drive home.
Tumblr media
249 notes · View notes
sp00kymulderr · 2 months ago
Text
it might be nice
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Dieter Bravo x f!reader
Warnings/Tags/Notes: 18+. FEELINGS. Angst. love. just...feelings. Mention of f receiving oral, reader is a not a us-citizen (visa stuff), commitment and intimacy issues all round, did I mentioned feelings? This just kinda started writing itself, i appreciate there isn't enough Dieter in it but it is what it is. Unedited, unbeta'd.
Words: 1.1k
Summary: It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now.
Tumblr media
"We could get married"
You look up from your book, drawn back from your far away to the sound of his voice. Dieter is looking at you expectantly.
Your eyes widen as you process the four words that just left his mouth.
"Dee, we…why would we…" You trail off, drawing your legs up and out of his lap, his thumb presses down on the arch of your foot once more before he lets it go.
The conversation had moved on hours ago. Over takeout you'd mentioned trepidation over being able to stay in the country, struggling with your visa and having no sponsorship since you couldn't seem to get a fucking job right now.
Dieter had listened, sympathised, and then eaten you out for dessert just to make you feel better about your situation.
It helped. He'd been pretty mediocre but extremely enthusiastic when you'd met, but now you'd taught him some tricks he knew just how to turn your mind off for a moment.
The conversation was finished the moment he put his mouth on you, or so you thought. He could help you pay for an extension but he wasn't influential or wealthy enough to sway the embassy into letting you stay longer.
"I'd bribe the fuck out of them if I could, you know that"
You did know that. You knew he'd do anything for you. He'd been saying it since the day he met you, once famous (more like infamous) movie star turned rehabilitated recluse with no one willing to be by his side until that day.
He'd met you in a Dennys, of all places. 3am waffles served to his lonely little corner booth because he found it hard to sleep these days, and he got hungry at random times. You took the late shifts because they paid the best, and you could be available in the day for calls from your agent that never came.
It hadn't been sexual at first. It hadn't been anything but a displaced, alone man and an exhausted, untethered waitress sitting in a booth and sharing free fries because chef made too many and they'd only go to waste. It had been whispered giggles, and sharing ridiculous Hollywood horror stories, and 'same time tomorrow' over and over again.
No one in LA had made you laugh. Not until you met him.
Dieter hadn't heard genuine laughter in years. Now he got to hear it every night.
Back in the now, you shake your head. He's being silly. He's trying to make you laugh again.
"Don't be stupid" You playfully shove his shoulder with your foot, but his face falls into a frown, and you feel a little crack in your heart at the sight. You watch as he stands, rubbing fingers across his forearm and muttering a little 'Stupid, yeah'. The tremor you feel inside you is nameless, and you will it to remain that way.
In the last six months of your knowing each other, there have been times when you've felt this same feeling. An ache at the thought that he could be anything other than happy. You'd long since left Dennys for the upward trajectory of the Cheesecake Factory but still when the late shift rolls around you feel a tug at your lips and a name on them, even when you'd seen him only hours before.
You're not an item, that's the thing. You're not a couple. Neither of you have ever said the words outright, no 'I want to be with you', 'I want to be yours'. Not to each other, at least.
It's more than enough. Having what you have with him now. It's enough, it's enough, it's enough. Enough that he will sit up all night long and read lines with you again and again and again. Enough that he tells you not to come over on his bad days but you do anyway, and hold him while he cries.
It's enough to be just this. Because more would only make it hurt more when he relapses, when you have to leave.
When you have to leave…
You close your book, set it down on the table that's strewn with pages for your latest audition. Last night he'd coached you through every single line, and then told you with passion just how perfect you were. You can hear him in the kitchen, and you know he's making himself a decaf latte with way too much caramel syrup and a dash of the kitkat sprinkles because that's what he always makes when he might be starting to crave something else.
That's how you know he wasn't making a joke. That's how you know your hurt his feelings. That and every look he's ever given you, every smile that lights up his eyes that's only been for you. That and the way his hands never stray far from you, always grounding himself with the touch of your skin to his.
"Dee…" You pad up to him slowly, watch as he tenses at your presence. Another prickle in your chest, you can't let him think you don't feel...what it is that you feel.
"Would it be so bad?" He asks without turning, the tinge of dejection in his tone making you reach out. "I'd treat you good, you know. We wouldn't even have to live together or anything…it can just be a way for you to stay. That's all. I didn't think it would be so bad for you"
God, you've had him right in your grasp this whole time. The two of you dancing around your feelings all because of fears you didn't even fully realise you had til now.
"I'd- I wouldn't even tell anyone you were my wife, if you didn't want me to. I wouldn't expect anything from it. I just…fuck,"
You turn him around with a pull to his arm, shake your head and bite back something hopeful and beautiful that inches up your throat,
"I don't want you to go"
Your arms are around his middle, a stifled sob as you bury your face against the soft, worn fabric of his favourite t-shirt - your favourite by extension because everything he loves you love too. He smells like him.
You breathe him in.
He smells like home.
You look up at him and smile. Not the pretty smile you give to casting agents - the one that makes you look perfect - but the big, happy, loving one he saw the very first night you two met in that Dennys at three in the morning on a random Tuesday. The one he gives you back is the same; he's smiled a thousand times on camera, in films and press appearances and award shows. No one else but you has ever seen this smile.
You take a deep breath. The crack in your heart starts in fusing back together.
"We could get married"
Tumblr media
171 notes · View notes
heavyhitterheaux · 11 months ago
Text
Valentine's Day Surprise (NSFW)
First Lady of Private Garden Fic
Tumblr media
Synopsis: Jack always goes above and beyond for you every single day of the year, but goes even further on Valentine's Day. Except this year because of his actions, he is in for a surprise a month later.
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: my boo @hoodharlow 💖
Do not engage if you are underage
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
“You gotta be fucking kidding me.” Jack heard you say as he saw you looking down at your phone and groaning.
“Baby, what's wrong?”
You didn't even respond, but instead slid your phone towards him as you rolled your eyes. He picked up your phone and you could tell that he was confused about what was happening.
“Hmm, I don't know what I'm looking at.”
“My period tracker.”
“But it's almost over, isn't it?”
“Not the point. Look at what it says on the fourteenth.”
Jack did as he was told, but still had a confused look on his face.
“Jackman, that's the day that I have the highest chance of getting pregnant.”
“Love that for us.” He responded while smirking and kissing you on your cheek, but you were quickly swatting him away from you.
“NO. NO WE DO NOT. We aren't do anything that day.”
“BABE! It's Valentine's Day! I have to give you this work. I have the entire day planned!”
“You can wait until that weekend. And I have other holes to use.”
“No I can't. And my favorite place is in between your thighs.”
All you did was look at him before rolling your eyes once more and massaging your temples.
“I wonder about you sometimes. No scratch that, all the time.”
“Well you did tell me the other day that you wanted another one sooo…..”
“I didn't mean right now!”
“Why not? The triplets will be ten this year and Nova will be six. That's a big enough age gap.”
“Jackman, you are not touching me with a ten foot pole so you can forget it.”
“Hmm, let's see if you feel the same way once I have your legs on my shoulders.” Jack scoffed as he leaned over to kiss you.
“I have no idea what I'm going to do with you.”
“Well, you haven't gotten rid of me yet. So I think it's safe to say that you won't. But, do you feel okay right now?” Jack asked as he pinched your cheek.
“Yes I'm fine, why?”
“I'm not going to turn down getting head from my wife.”
“Huh? I didn't offer.” You said looking at him confused.
“Well that was me asking and besides you said that you have other holes to use.” 
“You get on my damn nerves.” You said before pulling your curly hair up into a ponytail and kneeling down in front of him and all he did was smirk.
By the time Valentine's Day actually rolled around, Jack didn't disappoint and granted your wish of things being simple for the two of you this year. He woke you up with breakfast in bed and even though Jack asked for the breakfast between your legs, you quickly said no earning a groan from him.
“That's okay, it’ll be a different story later.” Was all he said which quickly earned an eye roll from you.
“Jackman….” You said in a warning tone, but he wasn't letting up.
By this time, he had gotten on his side of the bed and slid you into his lap as you were trying to get away from him.
“Trying to run away from me already I see. Get back here.”
“But I have to get your gifts….”
“The gifts can wait. You act like I can't use a condom.”
“You have a horrible track record with that and I guarantee that your luck is not going to start today. And since when do you have any? Like ever?” You responded being completely honest.
“I…. well….”
“Exactly.”
“Hmm, but I know that pussy is creaming for me as we speak.” Jack whispered in your ear and you immediately shut your eyes and shook your head no.
“Let me at the very least put my tongue skills to good use.”
“Nope because that's going to lead to me wanting your dick in me.”
“But you want it in you 99.9% of the time.”
“Not the point, Harlow.”
Jack then reached his hand into your shorts while slipping two fingers inside of you earning a moan to escape from your lips.
And it was at that moment that you accepted your defeat.
He was slowly moving his fingers out of you before finally pulling them completely out and examining them.
“Just like I thought, creaming for me.” Was all you heard him say before he promptly put his fingers in his mouth to taste you. Without warning, you quickly slipped off the pajama set that you were wearing and even though you couldn’t see him, you knew that he was behind you with the biggest smirk on his face knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you.
“Oh, someone’s eager.” He teased and you immediately rolled your eyes.
“Just shut up and put your fingers back in me.”
“I’ll do you one better and use my mouth. Come here and sit on my face.”
Jack had laid down under you making you have to switch around your position, but what he didn’t expect was you making a motion to pleasure him at the same time.
“I guess both of our mouths can be put to good use.”
Less than thirty minutes later, as promised, your legs were on Jack’s shoulders as he was slowly moving in and out of you. You couldn’t even remember the last time that the two of you were simply able to take your time and not having to do quickies here and there because of how busy your children kept you. 
“Shit, babe.” Was all you had the strength to blurt out and all Jack could do was smirk as he reached down to play with your clit.
“You claim you don’t want a baby, but you damn sure are clenching down on me hard as hell.”
“Not my fault you feel so good.”
Jack kept up with the slower pace as you placed your arms around his neck to bring him in for a kiss and held onto him tightly as you knew that you were close.
“You’re close, aren’t you baby?” 
You couldn’t even respond, but simply nodded your head yes, but Jack kept the same pace knowing that when you hit your peak, it would hit you a thousand times harder than it would if he had changed his pace. His movements began to get sloppy so you already knew that he was close too and in order for you to reach your peak faster, his mouth quickly found its way to your left breast and lightly began to suck, while still playing with your clit.
You didn’t even have time to say anything before you squirted all over him and felt him release in you at the same time. Jack simply placed kisses all along your body as you rode out your high and tried to even your breathing. Once Jack slid out of you, he looked down and smirked.
“Let me know when you’re ready for round two.”
All you did was look at him before grabbing him to flip him onto his back and positioning yourself in order to ride him.
“Well got damn.”
“I’m ready right now.”
—-
About a month later, Jack had told you that he wanted to go get some food and the two of you quickly agreed on Wing Stop. He had ordered it and gotten it delivered and the two of you were simply sitting down eating while watching movies on Netflix.
“Damn, these sure hit harder when you’re pregnant.” You simply said as you took another bite of your wing after dipping it in ranch.
Jack stopped chewing mid-bite to look at you and when you finally looked back at him, you had a confused look on your face because he had stopped eating.
“Baby, what’s wrong? I thought you said you were hungry?”
“So we’re just going to skip over the part where you said that you were PREGNANT?”
“Who said that?” You asked while taking another bite of your fry. 
“SERIOUSLY?!?!”
“Don’t you remember me showing you my period tracker and how I said that I was ovulating and that you didn’t care on Valentine’s Day?”
“Uh…. no.”
“Hmm, typical response from a man.”
“BABY!”
“Did I lie?!” You asked as you reached over to steal one of Jack’s fries because your supply had now been depleted.
“I…. so… we’re going to have five kids?!”
“You wanted your dick wet. These are the consequences.”
“Wait, you can’t put this all on me! You’re the one who wouldn’t let me come up for air and it had been damn near six rounds!”
“Don’t fuck me so good next time then.”
All Jack did was roll his eyes and scoff.
“Like that’s ever going to happen. But wait, you’re really pregnant? Is this an April Fools joke?”
“Jackman Thomas, it is March. And I would never tell you that I was pregnant as an April Fools joke. Don’t you remember how hard it was for me to get pregnant the first time?”
“Oh, good point.”
By this time, Jack had looked down to see that you had now eaten his wings too along with the rest of his fries and you were quickly trying to grab his drink which he promptly snatched away from your reach.
“Got damn! I forgot how bad your cravings were. You ate all your food AND MINE.”
“Sorry, smush. I’m eating for two now. Well let’s hope it’s only one baby in there because we know with your track record it might end up being four.”
“Not you getting an attitude because I’m fertile.”
“A little too fertile, I might add.”
You gathered all of the trash from the table and quickly put it in the trash can before coming to sit on Jack’s lap.
“Damn, looks like I have to get full off my drink since my pregnant wife ate her food AND mine.”
“I have something else that would get you full.” You leaned over to whisper in his ear before starting to kiss down his neck and move to the side so that you were able to slip your hand in his sweatpants and stroke him.
“Damn it. I also forgot how my dick will probably fall off during these nine months with how horny your ass gets and…. Fuck. Babe…..”
“Uh oh. Hold that thought.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
All Jack saw was you running into the bathroom and proceeding to throw up everything that you had just eaten. Jack was holding your hair back and when you had finally finished, you washed your mouth out after brushing your teeth and sighed. 
“I hate that part.”
But Jack was just glaring at you and you didn’t understand what his problem was.
“Baby?”
“Not you throwing up my food that you stole from me as I’m sitting here hungry AND you didn’t even suck my dick. You owe me.”
“I’m carrying your child. Let me do what I want and as soon as I rest for a little while, I will.”
“I’m still hungry.”
“You can eat me out.” You said as you reached up to place your arms around his neck and all he did was look down at you.
“Not with the way my stomach just bit my liver. I need REAL food.”
“But….”
“I’m going to get something to eat without you being near it so I can eat it in peace.” Jack said as he grabbed his keys and made his way towards the door.
“What if I put strawberries and whipped cream on it!?” You asked while smiling at him and all Jack did was continue to stare at you.
“And you call me the unserious one.” 
381 notes · View notes
whowantslovergirl · 7 months ago
Text
Casual
Tumblr media
Paige Bueckers x reader (reader is female with she/her pronouns)
warnings: angst, italics are flashbacks, no happy ending, loosely based on a true story 🤣, paige is SUPER clueless,suggestive but no smut so tht one part will not be in this story, cursing, again paige is kinda mean in this, NOT ASSUMING HER SEXUALITY THIS IS PURELY FOR THE STORY gonna make a new masterlist once there’s more stories 😫
Summary: Y/n knew what her and Paige had but she never wanted that and Paige just wanted this casual
posted: May 30,2024
Tumblr media
This has been going on for months. Ever since I hooked up with Paige we had this little thing going on. Then I did the one thing you shouldn’t, catch feelings. Technically it’s not my fault she shouldn’t be acting like a girlfriend, giving me gifts, taking me on surprise dates and even saying ‘I love you.’ I mean my friends call me a loser 'cause I'm still hanging around. Which is completely understandable it’s been like six months and she hasn’t asked me to be her girlfriend.
______
“Oh that’s Paige’s girl.”
“Yea Paige is dating that chick over there.”
“I heard they’re not even together yet.”
Every single day. I walk around campus and I hear the same thing. “That’s Paige’s girl.” Like my name is Y/n.
Then you heard someone say.
“Paige said she’s just fucking her nothing more nothing less.”
What the hell. I've heard so many rumors that I'm just a girl that you bang on your couch but I never believed it was true. You texted Paige saying you’re coming over and she said okay see you soon.
______
“Why would you say shit like that?!” This always happens we always get into an argument about something she said or something I did. It’s like a routine.
“Well are we not just fucking Y/n?!” Paige yelled back. Then you started to tear up. “Well I- I thought you thought of me better, you know like someone you couldn't lose or something.”
She shook her head and took my hands in hers. “I don’t know what you wanna hear Y/n.”
"We're not together"
Well that hurt. “Yea I know Paige. It just hurts that you see me like that.”
“I don’t but- but I do love you. You know that right?” I nodded and leaned forward. “I love you too Paige.” She smiled and connected our lips.
So now when we kiss, I have anger issues.
_____
“Baby, no attachment”
Those three words make me madder than I ever been in my life. I should leave but to be honest I don’t want too. I mean I always had a crush on Paige and when something finally happened I never been so happy. But at the same time.
Is it casual now?
I remember when we just started messing around and in two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends
“So what’s going on with you and Y/n.” Azzi asked. They were always curious about your… relationship? So they always asked you or Paige what’s going on. Paige shrugged.
“It's casual.”
They didn’t say anything just nodded when they know damn well what Paige and Y/n have is not casual.
_____
Dumb love, I love being stupid.
Sometimes I like to dream of us in a year. You know maybe we'd have an apartment.
And you'd show me off to your friends at the pier.
I walked into our apartment and Paige is already coming up to me giving me hugs and kisses.
“Hey baby how was work?” You shook your head. “Stressful but you know it happens.”
_____
“Come on! They’ll love you I promise.” Paige was showing you off to her new team. “Y/n!”
“Y/n!” I see my friend waving her hand in my face.
Well shit.
______
Paige and I just finished doing our thing and I was putting my (her) shirt on. “Hey so do you wanna go on a date or something?” Paige asked me and I nodded. Usually we do casual dates so it wouldn’t hurt doing a serious one right?
“Do you wanna go to a restaurant or something.” I saw the panic in her face and she immediately shut that idea down.
“Baby, no attachment.”
I rolled my eyes. “Didn’t know going to a restaurant was being attached.” I got all my stuff and left before she could stay anything.
Who asks to go on date then talk about being attached? Fucking idiot.
Is it casual now?
______
Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her house on Long Beach.
You just started your ‘relationship’ with Paige Bueckers. Two weeks in and her mom is asking you to go on vacation.
Is it casual now?
______
I know what you tell your friends.
“And she just stormed off like a kid bro. Just because I didn’t wanna go to a restaurant.” Paige was telling Azzi about your recent argument. Azzi just looked at her. “What?” Paige asked.
“Well what did you say for her to storm off P?” She shrugged. “I told her she shouldn’t get attached.” She said looking down and mumbling. Azzi looked at her again. “How is wanting to go to a restaurant being attached?”
“She said the same thing! Look, it's casual going to a restaurant is what couples do and we are not a couple.”
“Maybe she doesn’t wanna be casual Paige.”
And that’s what scared her.
______
It's hard being casual
When my favorite bra lives in your dresser
I was getting ready to go out with some friends and was looking for the bra that makes my boobs look big then I remembered that it’s probably at Paige’s which is not good because we are currently not talking.
Whatever I need my bra back.
______
“What are you doing here?” Fuck why does she have to look so hot. “Don’t cream your pants I need my bra.” She just moves out of the way.
I got my bra and was trying to leave but Paige grabbed my arm. “So where are you going dressed like that?” Is she serious?
“I’m going out with friends.” She nodded. “I miss you Y/n.”
“Ok” and you left.
And it's hard being casual
______
“Im so tired of this shit Paige!”
You’re finally confronting Paige about this thing you have going on due to your friends hyping you up.
“Tell her you’re over this shit Y/n!”
“It’s been too long for her not to do shit.”
“Tired of what Y/n?!”
“You! This has been going on for months. Almost a year and you still think this is a casual thing?!”
“If it bothered you so much why didn’t you say anything?!”
“Because Paige I try to be the chill girl that holds her tongue and gives you space.”
Before she could say anything you cut her off.
“I try to be the chill girl but honestly, I'm not.” You started to tear up and she noticed but didn’t say or do anything.
“Well I didn’t want to lead you on-.”
“But you did Paige.”
“Two weeks, and your mom invites me to her Long Beach house and you don’t think that’s leading someone on.”
“And I know what you tell your friends. You probably told them it’s casual right?” She looked down avoiding all possible eye contact. “What we have is not casual Paige and you know that.”
“You knew what this was Y/n. And what we have is casual or so I thought!”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh please I fucked you in the bathroom when we went to dinner and you told me you loved me. That’s not what casual is!”
She ran her hands over her face knowing you were right.
Your parents at the table, you wonder why I'm bitter
You’re at dinner with Paige’s parents and before you got here. We got into a huge argument about… honestly I don’t remember but I do know that it was her fault and I’m mad at her. You had been a little rude to her parents but they know you didn’t mean it.
After a while Paige pulled me to the bathroom obviously fed up.
“What the hell bro. I get you’re mad at me but don’t take it out on my parents.” You didn’t say anything and just went back to the table.
“I just want to say sorry for the way I acted today.” They assured you that it’s okay and they know you mean no harm.
Paige wondered why you were being so bitter.
But she didn’t do anything to fix it.
Bragging to your friends
“Yea we’re like doing this thing and like I’m so happy I did it!” Then Paige went on and on and on about you basically bragging. The team was obviously not going along with that, shutting it down immediately.
I hate that I let this drag on so long, now I hate myself
“Hate that I let this drag on so long, you can go to hell!!”
You pushed her out the door and slammed it in her face.
Note to self: never be in a ‘casual’ relationship.
Tumblr media
An: ENJOYYYYY MY LOVERS 🤍🤍🤍 but definitely making a wbb masterlist maybe emily engstlers next who knows…
241 notes · View notes
chiaraswritings · 1 year ago
Note
I feel like AT the restaurant they go to, Batmom goes into labor. She feels her first contraction, then spills her water on herself from the shock of it. Bruce does not believe her and they bicker about it with Y/N going “would I REALLY lie about this!?” And her husband gives her a look. Then she starts debating if it was gas or a contraction, or what have you.
It isn’t till Alfred comes back from the bathroom that the rush would start.
Batprank (Pt. 2)
Disclaimer: I do not own DC or their settings. This is certainly not canon.
Warnings & Topics: Very light argument, pregnancy, pranking, contractions, labor, delivery, newborn, parents holding newborn. 18+. If these are sensitive topics for you, go ahead and skip this one.
Word Count: 2K words
Summary: Batmom!reader goes into labor at her favorite restaurant and gives birth to her baby with her husband close by in Wayne Manor.
Author's Note: You guys crack me up, great part two idea, anon. It's pretty light-hearted at first, but towards the end of the story, I included a birth scene. I've never gotten to have a home birth, so I apologize if there were inaccuracies. Let me know if you want a part three. Thank you for all the incredible support, and I hope you enjoy.
Part One
Warm August sun tickled my nose as I stepped out of the car, taking a little more time than I was comfortable admitting, caused by nearly nine months of pregnancy's effect on my stomach. Not that I was complaining. I  was thrilled to be having Bruce's baby. It fulfilled the desire to be a mother that I'd had for years, and to be having a child with the love of my life? A fairytale come true. Even if we couldn't agree on baby names, even when I pulled labor pranks on my husband, even when I was being bombarded with concern by all our family members, especially our children. Earlier in the afternoon I had played a tremendous joke on all our family members, except for the all-knowing Alfred, pretending to have gone into labor. It was very convincing, and somehow we wound up at my favorite diner in the process of driving to the hospital. 
I joined my husband in the empty restaurant. It was three o'clock, the last customers of the lunch rush were slowly shuffling out the door, and it looked like the dinner rush had not yet made an appearance. I smiled at him as I intertwined my fingers with his, sliding into the booth next to him where he waited for the takeout order he had just put in.
"You could've waited in the car, it'll be ready soon," he pressed a kiss to my cheek and wrapped his arm around my shoulder. I smiled, practically melting into his embrace, laying my hand on my stomach. 
"That's okay, I kinda wanted water while we wait for it." I gave my husband a quick look. 
"Heh, and I'm guessing you need me to get that for you?"
"Obviously, you got me pregnant, now you get to take care of me." I slid out of the booth to allow him access to the soda fountain, tapping my foot in mock impatience. 
"You scared me to death with that prank of yours earlier, don't push it," he chuckled, rising and pressing a kiss to my cheek before going to retrieve my water. 
I rolled my eyes at him, sitting back down in the booth, still with a playful smile on my face. "I love you, Bruce."
"Uh-huh." He set the cup of water on the table in front of me before leaning down to place a loving kiss on my lips. As I returned the kiss, our order number was called from the front counter. "I'll be right back."
"Okay," I smiled and turned to the water cup in front of me, sipping from it and relaxing against the faux leather seat. I drummed my fingers against my stomach and thought about our unborn daughter, just as I had every day for the last six months. How happy Bruce would look when he held her for the first time. How her little fingers and toes would look. How excited Alfred and the kids would be to hear that she was finally born. It'd been a long and interesting journey for all of us, and it would soon come to its end. 
The realization that the kids were still at home in a state of panic hit me harder than a cold pool on a hot summer day. "Shit," I muttered, pulling out my phone and quickly dialing Stephanie's number. She was the most likely to answer, I knew, and I was right.
"Hello?!" The excited squeal made me pull the phone away from my ear for a moment. 
"Hello, Stephanie, I just wanted to let you all know... could you put the call on speaker, please?" 
“Yeah! Okay, there you go, tell us what’s happening!” Stephanie’s excitement was pouring through the speaker of my phone like water. 
“Mom? Mom, what’s going on?!” I could hear Jason’s voice, much more awake than when we had left the manor to rush to the hospital.
“I figured I needed to let you guys all know that my going into labor was a-” at that very moment I felt it, a long, drawn-out and yet sharp pain moving through my lower abdomen. It stunned me nearly into silence, accidentally spilling half of the contents of my water cup onto my lap. It almost felt like the horrible menstrual cramps that I hadn’t felt for such a long time.
“Mom? It was a what?” Tim’s voice broke through the pause. 
“Oh, not a prank, not a prank, not a prank!” I groaned as the pain rippled through my lower stomach. Not that it was unmanageable, it was just so surprising and… a tiny bit terrifying. No, it was very terrifying. The due date wasn’t for two more weeks, I didn’t expect this, I hadn’t mentally prepared, this was truly scary.
“Not a prank?” It was Tim again. “What do you mean, we know that.” 
“I didn’t mean anything!” I took two deep breaths as the sharp pain faded into a dull throb, then almost disappeared. “Just… forget I said anything! We’ll give you an update soon, love you lots, bye,” I ended the call before the curious group on the other end could get another word in. 
As I set down the phone on the table with a thud, my husband arrived by my side with a plastic bag. “Are you ready to… what’s wrong?” He set it down, kneeling to inspect my tense face.
“I… I think I just got a contraction,” I whispered, looking over to him. 
Bruce looked from my face, to the spilled water in my lap, then back to my face before standing. “Nice try, honey, let’s get going.”
“No! No, I mean it!” I looked up at him, grabbing his hand with mine in a death grip. “I’m not kidding this time. I’m not. You have to believe me.”
My husband looked at me for a moment before kneeling next to me again. “(Y/N), are you being serious? You know the story of the boy who cried wolf, don’t you?”
“Would I really lie about this, Bruce?!” I looked down at my stomach and pressed my fingers to the underside. “I swear, I felt it, I felt a contraction!” 
My statement was met with a look of doubt. “(Y/N), we’re two weeks away from the due date, I’m sure it was just… gas or discomfort, it couldn’t have been a contraction.” 
I returned his look with a withering glance. “Bruce Wayne, I swear, that was not gas. I think I’d know the difference.” 
“Honey, you can’t be having contractions yet…” Bruce’s confidence was starting to crack. He gave my stomach a worried look. 
“Oh yes I can, you know that babies can come anytime they choose.”
“Was that the only one?”
“Yeah, that was the only one.”
“Then… it was probably just…” 
“Master Bruce, Madam (Y/N), we had better start moving if we want to miss the rush hour,” Alfred’s calm voice broke through Bruce’s thought. He had stepped into the restaurant in search of us, given that we were ordering takeout, not dining in.
“Alfred! Alfred, I think I got a contraction, we have to call the midwife right now.” I stood, using the table for support. My husband handed off the plastic bag of food to Alfred, catching my arm to assist me. 
“Will we be heading home or to the hospital, sir?” Alfred quirked an eyebrow towards Bruce, just as skeptical as he was. 
“We’ll… let’s call the midwife in the car and go from there.” Bruce looked at me, starting to believe my words.
“Yes, let’s… just get her on the phone, please.” 
...
A few minutes later, we were heading back to the manor. The midwife had advised me to remain in a comfortable space to monitor my contractions on my own, to see if it was really gas, false labor, or the real thing. The original plan was to give birth in the manor, unless something unexpected (such as my water breaking before my due date) occurred. The midwife and her birth team assured me that they were just a phone call away, and with that in mind, we started driving back towards the manor. 
Bruce did everything to make sure I was comfortable, in the car and back in our bedroom once we had arrived home. The kids crowded around me at first, until a growl and firm command from Bruce sent them all back to their rooms. I was resting in our large, plush bed, my hand resting on my stomach, when the next contraction made its way through my body, then the next, then the next, still minutes apart, but becoming more and more consistent. Now that Bruce was convinced that I was actually going into labor, he was the most attentive husband on earth, holding me close with one arm and keeping his other hand on my stomach. 
“I knew this was going to happen, but… I didn’t think that it’d happen so soon,” I looked up at him, trying to relax after a contraction had passed. 
“I didn’t think so either,” he replied, massaging the side of my tummy. “But, you are the strongest person I know. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”
The pain was alleviated through his massages and gentle words. “Thank you, I’m so glad you’re here.” 
“I’m not going anywhere.” 
Labor was long and longer. Since it was my first baby, the risk was higher, but we wanted to prevent any danger of kidnapping or switched babies, especially since Bruce was in such a spotlight. I found myself in different positions as the night dragged on, the midwife’s reassuring words and Bruce’s concerned yet comforting presence carrying me through the delivery of our baby. Even when I felt for a moment that I couldn’t go on, my husband’s kisses to my shoulder and forehead kept me from giving up. Not that I really had a choice, of course. And yet that one moment was worth it all. 
I’ll never forget the moment the tiny, crying baby was put on my chest, as the midwife maneuvered me from my birthing position to lay on my back. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even register for a moment what was happening, until I was sprawling against the pillows and my newborn daughter was on my skin, her whimpering, suckling noises were music to my ears. Holding her close, I closed my eyes in relief, nearly unaware of what was going on around me. After a moment, I opened my eyes and looked up at the man who had supported me from beginning to end. “Bruce, we did it.” 
“Yes, you did it, I knew you could.” He was looking at the tiny human in my arms with a sort of awe. 
I smiled, my thumbs stroking her back, though she was still covered in fluids. I was half mindful of the midwife asking Bruce to cut the umbilical cord, most of my focus was spent on examining my daughter’s tiny fingers that moved so slowly, as if they were trying to figure out this new environment.
Seeing the love of my life hold our child for the first time was as perfect and pure as I knew it would be. Once she was wiped clean and wrapped in a cloth, Bruce was able to hold her to his own chest, staring down at her with the same awe that hadn’t left his face. I could see her eyes were open, and she was staring up at him. In this wonderful moment, I knew that it had all been worth it, and that she would never have to be alone, that he was always going to be right there for her.
Bruce finally placed her back in my arms, and I held the little bundle of moving arms and legs close again, looking up at him with a smile and a quirked eyebrow. “I told you it wasn’t a prank.” 
1K notes · View notes
magnagaruzenmon · 6 days ago
Text
Writer’s Block
Tumblr media
A little gift for Dinozen.
Garuzen and her writing partner Dinozen sat across from each other, their brows furrowed in concentration over a game of Magic: The Gathering, specifically duel commander. The tension in the room was palpable as if the very air thickened with every card drawn. Their decks, their strategies, and their personalities clashed like rival elements.
Garuzen’s Bant control deck struggled to keep pace, its delicate balance of counters and defenses cracking under the relentless pressure of Dinozen’s Sultai tempo. Each turn, Dinozen’s deck churned out incremental advantages, a symphony of value that was impossible to stop. Garuzen slumped in her chair, her frustration bubbling to the surface as she scooped up her cards.
“Gah! How do you manage it all?” she lamented, shaking her head after racking up another loss.
Dinozen, halfway through shuffling his deck for the next match, glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” he asked slowly, his voice as steady and unassuming as ever.
Garuzen rolled her eyes dramatically. “You know what I mean—writing, hobbies, work, volunteering! How do you keep all those balls in the air without dropping them? It’s all so much!”
For a moment, Dinozen hesitated, the rhythmic shuffling of his cards pausing ever so slightly. Then, in his usual measured tone, he replied, “By taking things one day at a time.” He resumed shuffling, his hands moving with precision as he set up for their third game.
“Really? That’s it?” Garuzen leaned forward, her disbelief painted across her face. “I thought you’d have some secret sauce or something. I mean, come on, you’re the titan who managed to crank out three stories a week for six months straight! People called you unstoppable! Then one of your heavy hitters pops off, and poof—you disappear without a trace. Why, Dino? Why vanish after building all that momentum?”
Dinozen twitched at her words, his shoulders tightening before he forced himself to relax. Garuzen didn’t notice—or perhaps she didn’t care. She pressed on, her curiosity morphing into a challenge.
“Did I strike a nerve, Dino? Did I make you angry?” She smirked, her tone edging toward playful provocation.
Dinozen shot her a sharp look, one that practically begged her to drop the subject. But Garuzen was undeterred. She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed. “What is it with you, huh? Why do you work so hard all the time? Is it just to make the rest of us look bad?”
And that was it. The mask cracked. Dinozen broke.
“Because I’m fucking furious!” he exploded, his voice ringing out like a thunderclap. “Furious and disgusted at everything and everyone!”
Garuzen froze, her jaw slack as Dinozen’s words came tumbling out like a flood bursting through a dam.
“I am surrounded by people who don’t believe in anything! People who refuse to act on their convictions are content to be trampled by those who do. And then there’s me—trying to do the right thing, trying to do right by people—and what do I get? Looked down on. Written off. Meanwhile, people close to me are profiting profoundly off of my ideas, and they act like I’m the joke. I’m the diplomat, the bigger person, while assholes like Thunder Cunt run wild because what? They’ve been dumb and ignorant from the start?!”
He slammed his hands on the table, his voice trembling now, teetering on the edge of rage and despair. “Every day, I feel like I’m shedding my humanity—like it’s crawling off me, piece by piece. And why? Because of the slime, we let exist. Because of the rot we let propagate. So if you want to know what drives me to work so hard, it’s not because I want to make you or anyone else look bad. It’s because I hate it all. I hate it.”
The silence that followed was deafening. Garuzen sat frozen, the terror in her eyes growing as she looked at her friend—not the cheerful, easygoing Dinozen she knew, but someone raw and cracked open, someone teetering on the brink of something dark. The sorrow in his voice, his pain, was more frightening than his anger.
Without a word, Garuzen pulled out her phone. Her hands trembled as she dialed. Dinozen’s breathing was ragged, his chest heaving, but he noticed her movements.
“Who are you calling?” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.
Garuzen looked up, meeting his furious gaze with a faint, knowing smile. “Someone who misses you.”
Ten minutes later, the doorbell rang. Dinozen stormed to the door, still fuming, his jaw tight and his muscles coiled like a spring. He yanked it open—and froze.
Standing on the other side was Chaehyun. She was fidgeting, her hands clasped nervously in front of her. But when their eyes met, she smiled, soft and warm, like the first light of dawn breaking through a storm.
“Hey, Dino,” she said, her voice gentle. “I missed you.”
“Marshmallow?” Dinozen’s voice cracked, the exhaustion and shock in his tone cutting through the remnants of his anger.
Chaehyun pouted but nodded. “Yeah, it’s me.”
For a moment, Dinozen tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. “I… I… I…”
Chaehyun stepped closer, taking his hand in hers. “Come on,” she said softly, tugging him away from the door. “Let’s talk.”
Chaehyun led Dinozen into his bedroom, the tension radiating from him like a tangible force. She kept her steps deliberate, her hand clasped gently around his. Garuzen lingered in the hallway, peeking in just long enough to see the two disappear behind the door. As it clicked shut, she exhaled a shaky breath, hoping Chaehyun could do what she could not: reach him.
Inside the room, Chaehyun guided Dinozen to the edge of the bed. They sat down together, the mattress creaking under their weight. She kept her hand on his, grounding him with her touch as her gaze swept over his exhausted face.
“What’s going on, big guy?” she asked softly, her voice laced with concern.
Dinozen didn’t answer. His shoulders were still stiff, his jaw tight. Chaehyun turned to face him fully, her fingers brushing against his cheek as she cupped his face and gently turned it toward her. He flinched at the contact, his eyes darting away, but she didn’t pull back. Instead, she stroked her thumb lightly across his cheekbone, her touch a quiet reassurance.
“When was the last time you got a hug?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “And I mean a real one—not the kind someone gives just because they have to.”
Dinozen’s silence was answer enough. She sighed, her heart aching as she pulled him into her arms, wrapping herself around him tightly. He resisted for a moment, his body tense and unyielding, but she didn’t let go. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her warmth radiating through him like a balm for his frayed nerves.
Slowly, she felt him begin to relax. The rigidity in his back softened; the sharp edges of his breathing smoothed out. His arms, which had hung awkwardly at his sides, finally came up to return the embrace, his grip tentative at first before growing firmer, as though he were clinging to her for stability.
“There we go,” Chaehyun murmured against him. “Just let it out.”
For a moment, Dinozen simply held her, the storm inside him quieting as he melted into her touch. When she felt his breathing even out, she pulled back slightly, her hands resting on his shoulders. She looked up at him with those wide, expressive eyes of hers and tilted her head. “Now, tell me. What’s going on?”
Dinozen hesitated, his gaze dropping to the floor. As he spoke, his voice was low, nearly a mumble. “People… No, life has been stressing me out. It’s all too much, Marshmallow.”
Chaehyun’s lips twitched into a pout at the nickname—her least favorite, but one she tolerated from him because she knew it came from a place of affection. Instead of complaining, she shrugged off her jacket, tossed it onto the bed, and scooted closer to him, resting a hand on his knee.
“And you thought disappearing for a month or two was the answer?” she asked, her tone gentle but teasing. “You thought all the pain would just… poof, go away if you disconnected from everything?”
Dinozen nodded sheepishly, his lips twitching into the faintest of smiles. Chaehyun’s laugh broke through the air, light and full of warmth, and she reached up to ruffle his hair.
“I always forget you’re an introvert at heart,” she said, her eyes crinkling with amusement. “You thought hiding would fix it, huh?”
He chuckled softly, the sound surprising even him. “Maybe. I mean… it usually works.”
“Not this time.” Chaehyun shook her head, her hand dropping to his shoulder, her thumb brushing lightly over his collarbone. “You can’t run away from what’s in your head, Dino. You know that.”
His smile faltered, and she immediately noticed. Without a word, she slid closer, draping her arm around his shoulders and leaning her head against him. “But you don’t have to figure it all out alone,” she said quietly. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. You just have to let me in.”
Dinozen let out a shaky breath, his head lowering as her words sank in. He leaned into her touch, his forehead resting against the curve of her neck. Chaehyun said nothing more, letting the steady rhythm of her heartbeat fill the silence. She ran her fingers lightly through his hair, the repetitive motion calming him further.
As the minutes stretched on, Dinozen finally whispered, “I missed you, too.”
Chaehyun smiled, her arms tightening around him. “Good,” she said simply, her voice as soothing as the embrace itself. “Now stop running away, you big dummy.” Dinozen nodded before the couple began cuddling on his bed. As always Chaehyun was the little spoon being encompassed by the much bigger Dinozen. After a few minutes of this Chaehyun gets a little antsy before turning over to face her paramour. She scoots up to his face and plants a large kiss on his cheek, as she wraps him in another hug. Dinozen eased again into her arms as their kisses deepened in passion Chaehyun began to feel how hard Dinozen was for her.
“Hey big guy when was the last time you got laid?”Chaehyun asked. Dinozen stiffened hoping not to be forced to answer. Chaehyun scowled,”No wonder why you're so tense you're pent up,” she said as she took her shirt off leaving her only in her bra and jeans both of which she quickly divested from. She looked at Dinozen with a bright smile admiring the bulge in his pants.
Dino raced to match her state of undress. Chaehyun smiled before saying, “good,” she crawled onto the bed before caressing he face and diving in for a kiss. While she does she slowly impaled herself on Dino’s cock. Dino moans as her pussy welcomes him. Chaehyun looks at Dino with eyes full of love.
“Oh good. I forgot how well you fit inside,” Chaehyun coos. Dino eases as she wraps her arms around him. She starts riding him slowly at first before the pleasure gets to her. Dino grips into her plush thighs as she rides him. As she grinds along his shaft Dino watches as her big breasts bounce buoyant in his face. Dinozen leans in before taking an exploratory lick. Chaehyun moans as she buries Dino’s face in her tits. Her walls hold Dino with a gentle care that he hadn't felt in months.
Dinozen lost himself in the pleasure and came inside Chaehyun. She smiles as his seed floods her womb. She goes lightheaded as her arousal consumes her. The couple collapses on the bed.
Chaehyun bats her big eyes hoping to soften the anger that welled within Dino. Dino relaxed and kiss the rabbit tiger as she wrapped her legs around him another time
The room was quiet now, the storm inside Dinozen finally calmed by Chaehyun’s warmth. They stayed tangled together on the bed, his head resting against her shoulder while her fingers combed through his hair in slow, soothing strokes. The rhythm of their breathing began to synchronize, the weight of the moment dissipating into a peaceful stillness.
“You feel any better?” Chaehyun whispered, breaking the silence.
Dinozen nodded slightly, his voice a low murmur. “Yeah… You always do this to me, you know.”
“Do what?” she asked, tilting her head to look at him.
“Make me feel human again.” He gave a faint, tired smile, his eyes finally meeting hers. “Like I’m not completely broken.”
Chaehyun’s heart ached at his words, but she didn’t say anything right away. Instead, she pressed a soft kiss to his temple and rested her cheek against his hair. “That’s because you’re not broken, Dino. You just need someone to remind you how much you’re worth.”
He didn’t respond, but the way he pulled her closer said everything. Chaehyun leaned back slightly, pulling the covers over them both as she shifted to lie more comfortably. Dinozen followed her movements without protest, his arm wrapping around her waist as he settled against her.
“You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked, his voice already heavy with sleep.
“Not a chance,” Chaehyun replied, her lips curving into a soft smile. “I’m staying right here, big guy.”
Within minutes, his breathing deepened, and she could feel the tension leave his body entirely. Chaehyun stayed awake a little longer, watching his features soften in sleep, the exhaustion and pain etched into his face fading away. She brushed her thumb lightly over his cheek one last time before closing her eyes, the warmth of his embrace pulling her into sleep.
Scene: Morning Renewal
The smell of something savory woke Chaehyun the next morning. She blinked her eyes open, the early sunlight streaming through the curtains. Stretching, she sat up slowly, her body still cocooned in the warmth of the blanket Dinozen had tucked around her sometime during the night.
She padded out of the bedroom, drawn by the tantalizing aroma. There, in the small kitchen, was Dinozen. He stood at the stove, flipping pancakes with practiced ease, his posture more relaxed than she had seen in weeks. The sleeves of his hoodie were pushed up, and there was even a faint hum under his breath—a melody she couldn’t quite place but recognized as something he used to hum when he was in a good mood.
“Look who’s up,” Dinozen said without turning around, his voice light. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Go sit down.”
Chaehyun leaned against the doorway, crossing her arms as she watched him. There was something different about him this morning. The shadows that had clung to him so tightly the night before seemed to have lifted, replaced by a quiet calm that made her chest ache with relief.
“You seem… better,” she said softly, her lips curving into a small smile.
Dinozen glanced over his shoulder at her, his eyes warm. “Yeah. Guess a good night’s sleep helps. Or maybe it’s the company.”
Chaehyun rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide her smile as she moved to sit at the table. “Flatterer.”
He brought a plate over, setting it in front of her with a flourish. “Pancakes, eggs, and bacon, just the way you like it.”
She looked down at the plate and then back up at him, her heart swelling. “You didn’t have to do all this.”
“I wanted to.” Dinozen shrugged, sitting down across from her with his own plate. “Least I could do after everything you’ve done for me.”
Chaehyun picked up her fork but paused, looking at him with a mix of affection and mock annoyance. “You know,” she said, her tone light but pointed, “if this is how good you feel after one night, you definitely need to write me again.”
Dinozen froze mid-bite, his cheeks turning slightly pink. He tried to play it off with a chuckle. “What are you talking about?”
“You heard me.” Chaehyun leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand as she gave him a knowing smile. “I’m not just your muse—I’m your wake-up call. And you clearly need me around more often.”
Dinozen laughed, shaking his head. “Fine, fine. You win. I’ll write you again. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” she teased, digging into her food.
88 notes · View notes
scoonsalicious · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
Tumblr media
1.1 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, slight objectification of men.
Word Count: 1.6k
Previously On...: Lily McIntyre met Bucky Barnes. Everything had changed, and now it's only him that matters.
A/N: You know what? Fuck it. Turns out I write more when I'm actively writing for all of you. Plus, I miss you, besties. Yes, I know-- it's only been two days, but I don't care. You guys give me the strength to face the day, and when I'm interacting with you, I'm happiest. So, we're starting the full roll-out of With Friends Like These... Now, there won't be multiple postings per day, so I won't be dropping a bunch at once. We're going to start nice and slow, lol. I hope you like it!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Tumblr media
You stood outside the door to the bar, nervous as fuck. It wasn’t every day a girl got invited to spend an evening out on the town with the goddamned Avengers, and though you’d only known Natasha Romanoff for about six months now, you were honored she liked you enough to extend an invitation for you to join her and her friends on their off time. 
Giving yourself a once over in the reflection of the bar’s window, you double checked to make sure you looked good– your hair and makeup were on point, your dark wash skinny jeans hugged your curves in the best possible way, and the black satiny top you wore under your leather jacket showed just enough cleavage to be tantalizing, but not trashy. 
You got this, you told yourself. You took a breath, and walked inside. 
The place was dimly lit, but not too crowded. You were able to spot Natasha easily– it wasn’t as if the striking redhead was hard to miss. She sat at a high top with another redhead, nursing a vodka tonic. Catching her eye, you waved and made your way over.
“Major!” Nat greeted you, going in for a friendly hug, which you happily returned. “I’m so glad you made it!” She pointed to the other redhead– Wanda Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch, you remembered now from having seen her on the news– and introduced you. “Major, this is Wanda; Wanda, Major.” You shook hands as the other woman offered you a kind, welcoming smile.
“Finally, some balance to the force,” she joked. At your questioning look, she elaborated: “We are desperately outnumbered in the girl department when it comes to our friend group,” she said. “It’s just me and Nat versus the boys.”
“There’s Lily, too,” Nat interjected.
“Please.” Wanda said, waving Nat’s words off dismissively. “We all know that Lily is not one of us.”
Nat snorted into her drink. “Lily’s just not really a girl’s-girl,” she offered to you in explanation. “Very much sees herself as ‘one of the guys,’ if you catch my meaning.”
You nodded; you’d had plenty of experience with pick-me girls in the past. “Yeah, I know the type.” You waved down a waitress and put in an order for a frozen margarita.
“So, Major,” Wanda said, taking a sip of her beverage once the waitress had gone, “which one of our lucky bachelors is going to catch your eye tonight?”
“I don’t follow,” you said, confused. 
Wanda turned to Nat and playfully hit her on the shoulder. “You bitch! You didn’t tell her?”
Nat had the decency to look sheepish. “I wanted it to be organic,” she said, offering you an apologetic smile.
“Natasha Romanoff,” you said, realization dawning on you, “did you invite me out tonight to try and set me up with one of your teammates?”
Nat frowned, looking remorseful. “I know I should have said something, but you’re always complaining about how you never have luck with dating, and it just so happens I live in a compound literally full of eligible men, so I thought… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
The waitress brought over your margarita and you raised it, toasting to Nat. “Fuck apologies; you want to hook me up with an Avenger? Girl, remind me to send you a gift basket!”
Nat and Wanda both laughed, raising their own glasses to toast with you. Wanda leaned over toward you, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.
“Alright, don’t be obvious about it,” she said, “but our fine gentlemen are over at the pool table.” You followed her line of sight and were met with an array of some of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Yeah, you’d seen them on tv, and in magazines, but they were always wearing costumes and masks. But up close? And in person?
“Woof,” you said softly. 
“Okay,” said Nat, leaning in on your other side. “Let’s size up our options. First, we’ve got Captain America, himself, Steve Rogers. All-American, corn-fed, take-home-to-mamma kinda guy. Such a gentleman, could bench press four of you. Knows how to treat a girl right.”
“And bore her to tears,” Wanda added.
“Wands!” Nat flashed her eyes. “We’re supposed to be talking them up!”
Wanda shrugged. “Facts are facts,” she said. “A sweetheart, really, but very old fashioned.”
“Fine,” Nat said, exasperated. “Moving on, we have Sam Wilson, our resident Falcon. He’s funny, charming, a great dancer.”
“Seriously good moves,” Wanda added with an enthusiastic nod.
“Smart, good listener,” Nat offered. “Incredibly loyal.”
“You make him sound like a puppy,” you said, laughing.
“Oooh, oooh, my turn!” Wanda said enthusiastically. “Next up is our resident himbo, the one and only Thor Odinson. Unbelievably endearing, the body of a literal god: Great hair, an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, arms that could snap your tiny little body right in half if he had half a mind to…”
“Down, girl,” Nat said, flicking some droplets of water from her water glass at Wanda. “Damn, we’re here for Major, not you.”
“Sorry,” said Wanda, ducking down to hide her blush behind her hair. “He’s just so… big. And… beefy. Like, what does one even do with that much man?” she asked, before muttering so low you could barely hear her: “I would really like to find out.”
You and Nat stifled your laughter. “Okay, definitely not going to be Thor for me, then,” you offered. Across the room, another man caught your eye, one Nat and Wanda hadn’t mentioned yet. “Who’s that?” you asked them.
Nat craned her neck. “Oh, that’s Parker. I dunno; he’s kinda on the young side for my taste, but the kid is 18, so if that’s what you’re into–”
“Ugh, no– pass,” you said, realizing she had been referring to the skinny teenager who was hanging on Steve Rogers’ every word. “No, I mean the brunet. Who’s he?” The more you studied him, the more you realized he just may be the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was currently leaning against a pool cue, engrossed in conversation with Sam. He had a slight smirk on his face, as if he was keeping in a very humorous secret, and it painted his features in an adorably boyish light. 
While you were looking at him, he turned his head and saw you watching him. You should have been mortified at being caught staring but instead, you were taken aback by how striking his crystal blue eyes were. You offered him a soft smile, and were delighted when his own widened in return, his cheeks taking on a dusky hue in the low light, before Sam elbowed him, bringing his attention back to the game of pool. He shot you another look, running his tongue along his bottom lip, before refocusing his attention.
“Oh,” said Nat, following your gaze. “Oh, no, no, no. That’s Bucky Barnes. He’s… not on the menu.”
You turned back toward her, disappointed. “Oh. Of course, guy that good looking’s got to have a girlfriend, right?”
Nat and Wanda exchanged glances. “Not exactly,” Nat said.
“Remember how we mentioned Lily not being a girl’s-girl?” Wanda asked, nodding her chin toward where the boys were racking the balls for a new game. You hadn’t noticed the woman in their midst before– petite, blond, and athletic. 
“Yeah, Lily’s more of a Bucky’s-girl,” Nat added. “Just, you know, Bucky’s not aware of it.”
You must have looked very confused, because Wanda was quick to clarify. “Bucky only joined the team… what? Four years ago?” She looked to Nat for confirmation, and Nat nodded. “He was like a totally different guy back then. Didn’t go out, didn’t want to be around people.”
“Like Oscar the Grouch, but if you took him out of the trash can and gave him moderately better grooming standards,” Nat offered. 
“Yeah,” Wanda continued, nodding in agreement, “and for the longest time, the only person he would talk to was Steve. But then, like, Lily made it her life’s work to become his best friend.”
“I remember it annoyed the shit out of him in the beginning,” Nat added. “Poor guy just wanted to be left alone to process his trauma.” She sighed. “But the girl was relentless. She’s got tenacity, I’ll say that for her.”
“That’s actually kind of sweet,” you said. “That she wouldn’t give up trying to be there for him.”
“No, sorry,” Nat said. “We’re not explaining this well. She basically made being Bucky’s best friend her entire fucking personality. It was like, any other friend she had just–poof! Stopped existing to her. We no longer mattered; everything became about Bucky.”
“It’s a bit much,” Wanda said. “She’s very… I don’t want to say protective is the right word for it, but very possessive of him.”
“It’s like no girl Bucky’s ever dated has been good enough to pass her standards,” Nat said. “And she’s had no problem making that abundantly clear, and I know she’s been the reason for at least a couple of his relationships ending. Poor guy’s balls must be so blue by now, they’re practically black; she never lets him get any action.”
You took a sip of your margarita. “Well, they’ve got to be sleeping together, right?” you asked. Nat and Wanda both looked at you. “I mean, that would explain it, right?”
“Oh, they are definitely not,” Nat said. “Though I’m sure she wishes. I heard him tell Steve she reminds him of his dead kid sister.”
You sucked in a breath. “Ouch,” you said. “Just what every girl wants to hear, I’m sure.” You looked back over to the pool table, admiring the way Bucky bent over to take a shot. “It’s too bad,” you said, turning back to girls. “I mean, he’s hot as hell, but no man’s worth taking on that kind of drama.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
229 notes · View notes
storm-angel989 · 10 months ago
Text
Outside the office
Longtime reader and writer. First time poster! Let me know what you think- I have pages of this story to share if there is any interest. <3 Enjoy!
“Vox, these pancakes are the best!” 
Another sleepy Sunday morning at home. Or at least, the place I called home these days. My arrival to hell six years ago had left me uneasy- displaced from the only world I had ever known. Upon my arrival, Lucifer immediately deposited me in one of the biggest power circles in Hell. With a kiss on the cheek and a warning to behave- lest I end up like my mother and father- he disappeared, off to running hell or heaven- I honestly wasn’t sure at this point.  
“Not better than mine though, right Princessa?” Valentino’s voice rang with teasing disapproval. 
I caught his eye and grinned. “I don’t know. Last I checked you didn’t put strawberries AND chocolate chips in your pancakes.”
“Take that!” Vox semi shouted. “Even your wife agrees I’m the better cook!” 
Lighthearted bickering broke out between the two of them. I caught the eye of Velvette, the only other girl in our group and she rolled her eyes, as amused as I was.
I wouldn't have guessed when I first arrived in hell that these three demons would eventually be the family I had left behind. Upon my arrival in hell, Lucifer warned that that these demons were three of the most powerful overlords in this ring of hell. Coming from a world where demons were slaughtered on sight- and the opposite held true for angels- meeting a demon off the battlefield for the first time took every inch of my self control to not allow the instincts I worked so hard to develop to overtake me. 
When I first met Vox, I was taken aback. For a demon, he was surprisingly friendly. According to Lucifer, he controlled the television airwaves and heavily utilized video and electricity to exert control over a host of sinners. Walking into his studio for the first time felt like stepping into energy territory- at least until the demon spoke. 
“First time meeting a demon?” Vox seemed amused. “Nothing to be afraid of, I assure you. At least, not for you Princess.” He extended his hand and I shook it out of politeness. His twisted smile grew wider, revealing a set of sharp teeth. “Don’t worry your highness, we will take excellent care of her.” 
Lucifer looked unconcerned. “You know the consequences if you don’t.” His phone rang and he looked at the caller ID. “Sorry to rush out on you, but I have a meeting to get to. Ensure you follow through on your end of the bargain.” His eyes flashed red, a non verbal “or else”.
“Of course,” Vox replied smoothly. “We have her living quarters all set up- she’s welcome to settle in after I give her the grand tour. And don’t worry- our resident fashionista will help her…blend in.” He reached out as if to push my hair to the side but stopped himself. “She’s in excellent hands, your highness.” 
Lucifer looked unconcerned. A cold fear settled in my gut, followed by anger. He was leaving me? In the hands of this…creature? 
“See you later darling. Enjoy all Hell has to offer.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek before he vanished,  leaving me in the sole company of the TV demon. 
“Before we go any further, I need your phone.” Vox reached his hand out. 
I hesitated but pulled my pink flip phone out of my pocket and handed it to him. He dropped it on the ground and crushed it beneth his foot. 
“Hey! Why did you do that?” I demanded. 
“That technology? Ancient and easy to hack. Here. I preloaded Lucifers number, our numbers and that’s honestly the only contacts you need. Not only that, its the latest model. The public won’t have access to it until next month.” He handed me a rectangular shaped phone. 
“And this.” he handed me a matching pink watch. “Don’t take it off. It allowed me to know your vitals and your location at all times. If something was to happen to you, we could easily get to you.” 
Wouldn’t that be the first thing they took off? I wondered but didn’t say it. Vox  hit a few buttons and showed me how to unlock it just by looking at the screen. After a few minutes of playing with it, I started to grasp the concept. 
“Lucifer wasn’t lying when he said you were smart. Come. Follow me.” 
Vox turned to walk away and I trailed behind him.
“Well, might as well show you around. Couple things to be aware of. Obviously as Princess of Hell you can do as you please but know that Valentino's studio, Velvette’s  runway and my office are strictly for business. Enter at the wrong time and you may end up seeing things that…you’re not quite used to.” 
He pressed a button and an elevator door slid open. I stepped inside and I followed, standing quietly next to him. The sense of unease hadn’t left me since the moment I arrived in hell and the further into the building I ventured the deeper that fear became. 
“First floor is the entry. Second is my office and studio. Third and fourth belong to Val’s workspace and the fifth floor belongs to Velvette. The Sixth floor is our living space- that’s where you’ll be joining us. Your quarters are up there as well. Living room and kitchen are shared spaces, though we all value the privacy of our own bedrooms.” He smiled a bit darkly. “You’re welcome to join us for movie night.” 
Since when did demons watch movies? 
The elevator dinged to three and I stepped out behind him. The scene infront of us was pure chaos. Demons in various shapes, forms and stages of dress hustled around the open room. Clothes and racks were scattered about, being tossed aside and rehung quicker that I thought possible.  Against a white backdrop, three models stood as lightbulbs went off around them. 
Unlike Vox with his TV shaped head,  the demon in charge looked relatively human. Her purple, red and black hair was pulled up high in two ponytails- teased and curled to perfection. Her clothes boated the same color scheme as her hair, and she wore impossibly high black heels. It took me a moment to realize her color scheme was the same as Vox’s. 
I watched her bark orders in a way that would have made my father proud. As she spoke, her perfectly manicured fingers flew across the keyboard of her phone. I felt myself flush, suddenly overly aware of my own broken fingernails and very clear out of fashion clothing. 
Vox seemed undisturbed by the hustle, walking through it with ease.“Velvettle darling, meet the Princess.” 
She looked up for a moment and her expression twisted in what looked like annoyance.
“You got a name, Princess?”
They both looked at me expectantly. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. Had Lucifer really dropped me off to total strangers without so much as sharing my name?
“My name is reader.” I answered with a steadiness I didn’t quite feel in my gut. “Morningstar.” 
“Well, reader,  if this is how heaven is dressing these days you need more help than I thought.” She snorted in contempt. “Don’t worry love, we’ll get you fixed up in no time. After all, if you’re spending time with us you need to look the part.”
Vox grinned. “Have fun you two. Vel, be a dear and bring her upstairs when you’re done.” 
She turned away. “Yeah, yeah. You don’t need to tell me what to do.” She snapped her fingers. “Get to it.” 
Without another word I was whisked away into another room. Any sense of modesty vanished as Velvette's team inspected every inch of my body. Unlike the angels, they had no shame in ensuring I was plucked, waxed, and trimmed to Velvette’s desire. With all the strange hands touching me I felt trapped, and did my best to disassociate. I had to if I wanted to survive down here. Wasn’t that my fathers first rule? Show no fear. 
Velvette must have noticed my discomfort. After the waxing she shooed everyone away for a moment and handed me a bottle of water. 
“Don’t worry love, you’ll get used to it. Quicker, actually if you’re here with us.” 
I held the bottle and she rolled her eyes, reaching over and twisting the cap open. “No one here will hurt you. Outside of Lucifer’s domain, this is the safest place in all of hell for you. Promise. Now drink- I don’t want to be on the receiving end of Lucifer’s wrath if you fall ill on the first day.” 
I took a sip and she turned the chair I was in towards the mirror, running her fingers through my blonde hair. “You need some deep conditioning, a style and a few highlights, but your overall color is fantastic. You have a lovely shape- for a half angel. And those eyes…” She stepped around and cupped my chin. “Lovely. No one in hell has blue eyes like those.” 
“Thank you.” I replied softly. 
Velvette grinned. “Well look, the princess speaks! Look, let’s finish up here and get your wardrobe set up and sent up. Val is taking us out tonight, and you need to look the part. It would be an embarrassment to our brand otherwise.” She snapped her fingers and a team of demons hurried over.
“Who is Val?” I asked as she leaned back against the counter, watching her employees work. 
“Valentino. You’ll meet him soon enough. Right pain in the ass he is. Love him though.” 
Right. Lucifer warned me about him. Valentino controlled the porn industry in the same way Vox controlled the broadcasts and Velvette controlled fashion and social media. I couldn’t even imagine what my father would think if he knew...I pushed the thought from my head. My father was gone. This was my reality now. 
“And you three- Vox, Velvette, Valentino- you’re…royalty?” I asked to fill the silence. 
She laughed. “Royalty? Not far off. We’re overlords. We own millions of souls between the three of us.”
That nervous feeling rekindled in my stomach. “You own souls? What does that mean?”
Velvette shrugged. “It means mortals in the human realm, or sinners down here made a deal with us in exchange for their souls. And we collected.” 
If there wasn’t a pair of scissors next to my ear I would have jumped away. Owning souls? How did that even happen? Moreso that went against everything an angel stood for. Or at least, everything my angelic half used to stand for.
“Oh relax, your soul is safe.” Velvette snorted at my expression. “Lucifer would kill anyone who even attempted to make a move on your eternal being. Trust me dear, you have nothing to worry about. At least, not from us.”
Across the studio, someone yelled her name and she pranced off without so much as a goodbye. 
What felt like an eternity later, I was led to the elevator by Velvette. My blonde hair had indeed been trimmed and highlighted, blown out and teased. My broken fingernails were hidden under tiny plastic red surfboards and my normally bare face was covered in makeup. 
“Just come down to my studio each morning. I’ll get you dressed and done up. Nothing to worry about.” Velvette assured me as we stepped out of the elevator. 
I wasn’t quite sure what to expect when I tried to imagine where demons lived, but the room I stepped into was the exact opposite of anything I could have dreamed up. Dark hardwood floors were covered with plush rugs in deep blues, blacks and reds.  Couches on the left were placed in a U shape in front of a large TV and to the right was a full kitchen.Towering floor to ceiling windows covered the far wall and a table with six office chairs sat in front of it. Towards the left there were five hallways and  small alcoves scattered throughout the room hosted signs of the floor's inhabitants. Photos of the V’s, computer setups, a notebook with scribbles and swatches of fabric, to name a few items. 
“You’re the fifth hallway down,” Velvette said, leading me towards the left. “If you get lost, look up. They’re labeled.” 
I looked up towards the doorway entrance of each and sure enough, the names Valentino, Vox, blank, Velvette and Princess were labeled.
“Why is mine labeled Princess?” I asked as she led me down that hallway. “You couldn’t have had that much time to design.”
Velvette laughed. “Took hardly anytime at all. The boss man sent us a list and cash- we obliged. Your comfort here is of upmost importance.” She pushed open a second door and stepped inside.
I expected dark colors, blacks and reds but to my surprise the room was decorated in a sea of purples, grays and whites. A bed took up the center of the room and off to the left was a small living room area- complete with matching couches and a television. A desk with a pink computer set up sat to the right of the bed. The three doors on the remaining walls led to the walk in closet and bathroom, Velvette explained. 
“Anything else you need? Kitchen is stocked. If you need something, write it on the whiteboard on the fridge. Housekeeping will bring it up.” Velvette continued. “Same with bathroom products or anything really. We want to make sure you’re happy. Oh!” She snapped her fingers and pushed open one of the doors. “Your public clothes are in my studio- along with everyone else’s. Except mine, of course. I dress myself. But in our space comfort is important. I personally chose the loungewear in your closet. Not that you can leave the building but when you’re ready to get dressed in the morning, come down to my studio and we’ll get you taken care of.” Her eyes narrowed. “Loungewear shouldn’t be seen anywhere except up here and my studio. Understood?”
“Yes, thank you. This is lovely.” Lovely was an understatement. This place was a place compared to my fathers house. 
Velvette shrugged. “Just want to make sure you feel at home Princess. Come now, I’m sure Val and Vox are ready to go.” 
“Go where, again?” I asked, following her back down the hallway and to the elevator. 
She hit the button and stepped in. “Dinner. I’m starved, I can’t believe you’re not. And Val always picks the best places.”
Lucifer hadn’t said anything about the food down here. I wondered what exactly demons ate and a shiver ran up my spine. Babies, probably. Or corpses. Maybe small animals? The phone in my pocket vibrated and I opened up the text just as the elevator door opened. I followed Velvette into the lobby I had entered earlier, keeping my eyes on my phone. 
“Settling in alright love?” The sender name read “Uncle Lucy”. 
Cute. He was as much of an Uncle to me as Vox was my boyfriend. Still, maybe he could answer my questions.  What do demons eat? I typed back furiously. 
Three little dots appeared at the bottom of my screen and his answer popped up. 
Depends. Is Valentino choosing the place? Or Vox?
Valentino, I typed back. 
Three little dots and then, Steak most likely. Velvette dressed you?
I stared at the phone and typed back. Steak? Made of what, exactly?
What is steak made of in the angelic realm? Cow?
I scowled at the phone. I thought demons ate babies. And each other.
His response was instantaneous. LOL. Oh my sweet, that is something I would have warned you about. Everything you eat and drink is safe as long as you’re with the V’s or myself.
Okay, I typed back. 
Be safe love. And stick close to the V’s while you’re out. This scene is much, much more different than you’re used to. 
I wanted to snap my phone shut but instead the screen went black. I sort of missed it- snapping a phone shut at the end of a call was incredibly sadifying. 
“Ah, so you must be the princessa” 
His low drawl pulled me from my thoughts and I looked up to see the red eyes of a demon I hadn’t met yet. Involuntarily, I took a step back. 
“Pleasure to meet you sweetheart.” His smile, much like the others revealed a set of sharp teeth. He stood tall, taller than even my father with a thin frame. His eyes were hidden behind a pair of heart shaped glasses. Hearts adorned the red jacket he wore, and white fluff surrounded the edges and the trim. Under he wore what looked like a black suit. He reached out and took my hand, kissing it. 
“Nice to meet you too.” I tried to hide my fear, the internal screaming to run. 
He grinned wider. “Nothing to be afraid of mi amor. You’re safe as long as you stay with us. Come now. We don’t want to be late.” 
I hesitated. “Are you sure this is safe?”
“Don’t wander out of our sight, and you won’t have to worry about it, yeah?” Velvette replied impatiently. 
Vox leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Right as usual dear.” He turned towards the entryway door, holding it open. Velvette passed through, then me, then Vox and finally Valentino. 
A deep red limo was waiting at the curb for us. Vox got in first, then Velvette. I stepped back in hesitation but a firm hand touched the small of my back. 
“After you dear. “ Valentino  bent down and whispered. “Be between us, always. It’s not safe to wander these streets.” 
At his touch, I practically jumped in and chose a seat far away from the others, taking a deep breath. I watched the dynamic in front of me unfold. Vox, between Velvette and Valentino, looked completely comfortable, chatting about what I assumed was their work. Across the limo, Valentino shot me a grin. 
“So princessa, what brings you to hell?” He asked. 
Vox and Velvette fell silent, their attention turned to me. 
“My father ordered me here.” I responded, cheeks flushing. 
From the pocket of his coat, Valentino pulled out a long cigarette and took and draw, exhaling clouds of red smoke.
“Ah. The infamous demon killer. The hypocrite who consorted with the former princess of hell and created you. Tell me, Princess. Why does he want you here after all this time? After all you are…how old?”
I felt my temper flare, but bit it back. His words wern’t exactly unture, but I didn’t like thinking about it. “I’m twenty five.” I said through gritted teeth. 
He considered this for a moment, taking another drag. “Twenty five. That’s a long time to live away from half of yourself.”
“Val.” Vox interjected in a warning tone. One of his red eyes began to swirl. “Enough with the questions. We’re thrilled to have her here.”
“Of course we are.” He smiled. “Just making conversation, wondering why now, after all this time we’ve decided to…ah, explore ourselves.” 
“I go where I am told.” I retorted. 
His grin became wider. “Always?”
Thankfully at that moment the limo stopped and the door opened. This time, Valentino stepped out first. Vox gestured to me and I followed him out. The building in front of us was small, and brightly lit. I followed Valentino inside, Vox close behind me. 
The inside looked like a normal restaurant. We were seated immediately in a back room, and with the exception of the fact that the waiters looked like different demons, it seemed no different than someplace I would have dined at back home. 
Valentino ordered for the table and in moments I was presented with dinner. I studied it while the others dug in. Lucifer was probably right. What was on my plate looked like steak, definitely smelled like it too. Lucifer told me it was safe to eat. And truth be told- I was starving. I took a tiny bite, relieved that my dinner partners didn’t seem to pay much attention to me. It tasted fine, but I couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that washed over me. I took a few more bites, then set my fork down. I just couldn’t shake my nerves. 
“That was great Val,” Vox leaned back in his chair. “What do you say we call it a night and head back?”
“Lame.” Velvette snorted. “The world needs to see the outfits I worked so hard to design. These nightly outings are not just for Val you know.”
Valentino took a long drag of his ciggarette and exhaled a trail of red smoke, looking at me and grinning. “Besides, we need to show the angel what a good time in hell looks like.” He stood up, and the others followed en-suite. Vox stepped aside, ensuring he was behind me as I followed them back to the limo. 
“Have you ever drank alcohol before, babe?” Valentino asked, stretching his arms out on the seat behind me. He didn’t make physicl contact, but he was close enough to make me uneasy. 
“Of course. I can go shot for shot with the most hardened angels.” I said defensively.
“Huh. Didn’t know angels drank.” Vox interjected thoughtfully as the limo pulled up to the next location. “Well good- then this should be a fun night.” 
The number 666 flashed in purple above the building. I hesitated. It looked like a club, and that wasn’t a scene I was allowed to explore. Behind me, Vox gave me a gentle nudge and with no other choice, I trailed behind Valentino as he bypassed the impossibly long line. As we crossed the dance floor, demons skittered out of his way. 
“It’s my club,” he said loudly as he led us to the back, half circle table. “Anything you need babe, its all yours.”
I slid in with Vox on one side and Velvette on the other. Instantly a demon appeared with four drinks, setting them on the table in front of us. 
“Just stick within eyesight of us and you’ll be fine.” Vox assured me.
“Cheers.” Valentino raised his glass to me. “To your visit to hell.” 
I took a sip. It was absolutely intoxicating and before I knew it, all four glasses were empty. Another round appeared instantly. Relief from my terror washed over me and I lost count after the second drink. Flashes of the dance floor, Velvette spinning me around. Shots handed to me by Vox and the four of us slamming them down. 
The room spun but the feeling of freedom and liberation wrapped around me like a star dusted blanket. As time passed, I somehow I found myself across the dance floor, far out of sight of my keepers. 
“To you, pretty lady.” A shark-like demon looked me up and down, and  handed me a pink and fuzzy drink. 
Too drunk to remember to not, I took the drink with a smile and downed it in one gulp. The shark demon laughed and took a step forward. 
“Now, how will you show your appreciation pretty thing?” he reached out and touched my shoulder. 
I flinched, and tried to take a step back but stumbled, trying to look back for any of the V’s.  Fuck, this wasn’t good. 
“There you are, princessa.” Valentino’s sharp voice floated behind me. “Looks like you can’t keep up with demons after all.” 
The shark demon paled and I couldn’t see if he left or not. I felt Valentino’s arm slide under mine as he guided me back to his table. My body, no longer in control of itself, leaned into his red jacket, my head resting its full weight on his shoulder. 
“Jesus Val, how much did you give her?” 
Could have been Vox or Velvette who asked. I couldn’t tell. I felt claws cup my chin and force my head up. Valentino’s eyes met mine and he sighed, letting my head fall against him. 
“Apparently, the princessa didn’t watch her drinks closely enough. Vox, take this please.” 
I caught sight of Valentino standing up and Vox took his place, guiding my head to his shoulder. The room felt loud, and somewhere in the distance, I could have sworn I heard a gunshot. 
“Hey hey, stay awake until Val gets back.” Vox shook my shoulder. “Ah shit. Lucifer’s going to be pissed.” 
I wasn’t quite sure how I ended up with my head on Valentino’s lap, or how I was totally fine with him stroking my hair. 
“Shits just got to work it's way out of her system,” I heard him explain. “Time is the only cure.” 
I tried to lift my head but found it too heavy for more than a few inches. Valentino’s hand pushed it back down. 
“It’s my fault.” I whispered. “I drank too much, too fast. I took a drink from an…I don’t know what, drinks aren’t spiked in heaven!”
I heard the three of them laugh. 
“Sounds like you need a lesson in club safety love.” Velvette looked up from her phone. 
“Maybe we don’t tell Uncle Lucy. Let’s keep this between us?” I mumbled and  shifted my body ever so slightly. 
Valentino rolled me back on my side, “If you say so, dear.” 
I felt the limo stop and tried my best to sit up. After a few seconds of letting me struggle, Valentino lifted me up and out of the limo. 
“I can walk.” I said protested blearily. 
“Oh, you can?” 
Valentino set me down and I immediately pitched forward. He caught me with ease and back in his arms I went. I closed my eyes .
The next thing I knew I was curled up on my side with sunlight streaming into my eyes. With a groan, I sat up. My head pounded.
“Rough first night dear?” 
I opened my eyes to see Lucifer sitting on a chair next to my bed, punching away on his phone. I looked down at myself. Gone were my club clothes from last night, replaced with a pair of soft purple pajamas. I wondered briefly how I had managed to get myself changed so neatly. 
“It wasn’t their fault.” I answered after a few seconds. “Ugh, my head.” 
He seemed unperturbed. “I’m well aware. Free choice and all that- I invented it, remember? Can’t hold them accountable- you chose to accept a drink from a stranger and well, Valentino himself held the stranger accountable.” 
“Fuck me. So…what are the consequences?” I mumbled, leaning forward and covering my head with my hands.
Lucifer paused. “Consequences? Isn’t being rendered totally unable to protect yourself your first night in hell enough? I’m not your father, dear.” He stood up. “What I can tell you is the cameras show half your bad decisions last night were due to drinking on an empty tummy. Can you explain why that is?” 
I didn’t answer. He walked over and lifted my chin so our eyes met. “If you don’t trust the four of us, you won’t make it down here. You have to eat. And drink. Same as you did up there.” 
I nodded and he sighed and sat down next to me. “I’m aware this is difficult- it’s new, and your father and I have torn you away to this place that is the  opposite of everything you’ve ever known. But despite all of heaven's propaganda, there is good down here too. You just have to be more careful.” 
“Yes, Lucifer.”
He broke out into a grin. “I think I prefer Uncle Lucy. Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?” 
I didn’t answer, embarrassment  joining the pain I felt. 
He patted my leg. “The good news is, you’re only suffering from a hangover. Unfortunately for you the cure is the same in heaven and hell. Hydration, food, anti inflammatories and rest.” 
He stood up and his phone rang. His voice changed from sweet to sharp and several harsh words later, he hung up. 
“I need to go. Chances are you’ll be back out on the club scene tonight. Let’s hope you’ve learned your lesson- stick close to the V’s. And listen to them. I made it clear that they can tell you what to do. Your responsibility is to follow through. Understood?” 
I nodded and he touched the top of my head with a knowing smile. Instantly, my headache vanished.
“Hot shower. Water. Food. It won’t stay away if you don’t give your body those things. I’ll touch base with you later, love.” 
He vanished a second later. I stared at the blank space and wondered if he was the only one down here who could do that. I pushed the thought from my head and willed myself out of bed. Lucifer may have made the headache vanish, but the body aches remained. I made my way into the bathroom.
The shower alone was the size of my room at home and it took me a good fifteen minutes to find a simple water pressure setting. I let myself sink into the steam and scrubbed clean every inch of my body. Finally, I stepped out and wrapped myself in an oversized towel. Standing in front of the mirror I studied my reflection as I towel dried my hair. Without Velvette’s make up, I looked like my usual self. 
The door creaked open and I scrambled for another towel. 
“Hello! No thank you!”
“What? Its not like we didn’t see everything last night,” Vox’s voice answered as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. “How do you think you ended up in those pajamas?”
“It doesn’t matter,” I hissed, covering myself quickly. 
He laughed “modesty is overrated. Down here, you’ll learn that soon enough. Look, I know Lucifer told you but Val made breakfast before he had to rush off to work. It’s in your best interest to eat something before that headache he cured comes rushing back. Oh, and drink this.” He set a bottle of bright orange liquid down on the counter. “Courtesy of the brilliant minds of Vee and Val. It’ll help I promise.” 
He turned to walk out, the paused. “I’m the last one to leave, which means you have the living room to yourself. Do as you wish as long as you take care of yourself. Don’t try to leave the building, and while you can visit my workspace or Vel’s, I’d suggest steering clear of Val. After last night, he’s in a pretty pissy mood.” 
I must have looked mortified because Vox laughed. “Not at you dear. Others that didn’t do their jobs. Still, his temper is a nasty one. I’d recommend avoiding it at all costs.” 
“Noted.” I said shakily. 
“Oh, Princess? Just a reminder. Floors two and five are where you want to go for Vel and I.” 
And with that he walked out. I took a sip of the drink he left and quickly swallowed the rest. To his credit, he was right- I felt much better almost instantly. I wrapped my hair up and from the vast closet I pulled a pair of soft blue pajamas and matching slippers. I made my way out to the shared kitchen and found a heart shaped sticky note on the table next to another bottle of the orange liquid.
Breakfast is in the fridge. Drink this after. If you have a hard time with the TV, text Vox. He’ll get you set up. 
-VVV
I opened the fridge and another heart shaped pink sticky note greeted me. 
“Eat every bite. If cold, microwave ten seconds.” 
I uncovered the plate, hoping it was something normal. Something I could eat. Something that wouldn’t inadvertently turn my stomach. And to my delight, I found what looked to be two homemade strawberry waffles. I put them in the microwave and sat down at the table, taking a bite. 
It was the yummiest thing I had ever tasted. 
I finished the entire thing in record time and, taking the bottle of orange drink, I made myself comfortable on the couch. Although the headache was gone, my entire body felt achy- like I was getting over the flu. I flipped mindlessly through the channels as I finished the drink. Sleepiness washed over me and I felt myself start to drift. 
The quiet ping of the elevator arriving startled me back awake. 
“I see we’re alive.” Velvette saunted across the floor and hung over the back of the couch. “Feeling alright?”
I pulled myself up right. “Better- what time is it?”
“Time for you to go downstairs and get ready- we have another big night out. This one features the press, so we need time to make you perfect.” she answered. “Throw on a robe and meet me down in ten. Oh, and there's more of that orange drink in the fridge. Can’t hurt to have another bottle. Or at least water.”
She sauntered off and I heard the elevator ping again. In truth, I did feel better- almost like nothing had happened. The aches had almost completely vanished. Back in my room I pulled on a pink fuzzy robe and made my way down the stairs. 
Velvette greeted me with a wave and upon my entrance, a horde of demons descended on me. The process didn’t take nearly as long as it had the day before, and by the time Velvette walked up to me the finishing touches were being put onto my makeup. 
“You look great. Much better than you did this morning. Come on now, we have to meet Val and Vox out. You slept longer than we guessed- not that its a big deal. But come on, the car is waiting.”
I followed her out the door and listened to her chatter away while she typed. I checked my phone and saw I had a few missed texts. One from Lucifer, checking in. That was easy, I shot him a quick I’m fine. The second one from Vox- again, asking me how I was, followed by a text informing me he confirmed on the camera I wasn’t dead- and he would see me later. The last text was from Valentino. 
Glad to hear you liked breakfast. Hope you enjoy dinner- let’s not have a repeat of last night, shall we? -Val 
“Valentino is a little scary.” I said out loud. 
Velvette looked up at me and laughed. “He’s only scary if you’re on his bad side- and if you’re worthless to him. Trust me babe, you have no reason to be afraid of him. Not after last night.” 
“What was so different about last night?” I asked curiously. 
She barked a laugh. “Vox is the one with a soft side. Valentino? He leaves drunk bitches in the ditch- he doesn’t lay them on his lap and he certainly doesn’t kill for them.” 
“He’s just afraid, because of who Lucifer is.” I replied uneasily. 
She shrugged. “Could be. Wouldn’t test it though. He can be nasty.”
The porn demon- nasty? That was probably the most mild of terms I could think of. More questions bubbled in my mind. How did they come to own souls? What other lies had heaven fed me- lies I considered to be true? I sat in silence, trying to bring up the courage to ask Velvette myself. I had just about convinced myself to do it when the limo stopped.  
I followed Velvette outside and she marched in the door like she owned the place. Once again, we were whisked to the back of what looked like a normal restaurant. In minutes, dinner was in front of us. I looked down at the pasta dish in front of me and spun my fork in it. It looked normal- and it smelled fantastic. Cautiously, I took a bite as  I listened to Vox complain about technology and a newscaster who ticked him off. Velvette responded by suggesting the use of one of her top models. Valentino was strangely silent, watching as I carefully took another bite. 
“Look at that, already taking a step in the right direction.” He winked at me. “Not up for a repeat of last night, mi amor?” 
I felt my cheeks flush red and his grin grew wider. “Good to see you enjoying your food, princessa.” He turned to Vox casually. “Just put something inside them. That’s how I get the bitches to behave.” 
What did that mean? I wondered. After a few minutes, my plate was empty and Valentino stood up. 
“Shall we? I have another busy night.” he announced. We followed ensuite back out to the limo. I waited behind Valentino, placed carefully between him and Velvette. 
Valentino paused and took a step back. “After you, princessa.” 
“Thanks.” I stepped inside and took my usual place against the far wall. Unlike last night, Valentino sat next to me, keeping a much shorter but still respectful distance. I felt a shiver go up my spine and a strange feeling in my belly as I listened to him chat with Velvette and Vox. 
The ride to the club felt shorter than the night before. The shock of the club scene had dissipated and I followed close behind Valentino. Tonight it felt less like walking into a war zone. Not only did everyone make way for Valentino, everyone made space for me. Back in the same booth I made sure to sip my drink when it came, less I end up as much of a mess as I did the night before. 
With sober eyes I watched the scene unfold. Valentino seemed to know everyone, and those he didn’t know Vox or Vel did. Frequently two left the table, leaving one behind. Visitors came up- demon men and women. Val either invited them for a drink or dismissed them with a wave of his hand. At one point he got up and disappeared into the back of the club, reemerging several hours later with a grin on his face. 
“Shall we dance mi corazon?” He asked, extending his hand. 
I hesitated and he leaned forward. “I won’t let anything happen to you, princessa. Come.” 
I took his hand and he led me to the dance floor. Not to my suprise, he took the lead. I surrendered myself to him and the beat of the music as he spun and swung me around. I lost track of time under the flashing lights and it wasn’t until he slipped his arm under me and led me back to the table that I realized how long we had been away from the table. 
He grabbed a nearby waiter and pointed to me. “Water for this one.” he turned to me. “I’ll be back princessa- stay here. And drink water.” 
I watched him vanish across the dancefloor and sipped at the water the waiter brought me. After that was finished, I ordered a redbull and vodka- hoping it would give me the energy I needed to stay awake. As the minutes passed and my soberness disappeared, the demons on the dancefloor seemed to swim and I wondered how I had managed to stay afloat as long as I had the night before. A sudden rush of tiredness washed over me and I turned to Vox, who was lounging casually next to me 
“When is the last call?”
“When Valentino says it is.” he responded carelessly. 
Great. I swapped from vodka back to water and watched as Velvette and Vox took turns out the floor. Several times I trailed after Vox for a song or two, but he ensured I was safely back at the table before either going back out or swapping places with Velvette. After a few rounds of this, I switched back to vodka, which allowed me to relax for the first time since my arrival. 
After some time passed Valentino returned, looking as pleased as ever. 
“Last call for us darlings,” he purred, offering his hand to me. Vox did the same to Velvette and together the four of us walked out of the bar. 
Though not nearly as bad as I had been, Velvette had the busy night and she spent the ride pressed into Vox. Valentino got himself comfortable and looked at me. 
“You alright baby doll? You’re quiet.” he moved his body closer to mine and his arm fell against my shoulder as he took another drag from his cigarette, exhaling a stream of red smoke. “Tired?”
I nodded and he pulled me to his side. “Lay your head down baby- I think we passed the awkward phase last night hm?” 
My head buzzed just enough that I could forget that he was a demon and that I should be terrified of him. My head fell against his shoulder and he ran a hand through my hair. 
“That’s it sweetheart. Nothing to be afraid of.” he cooed as he exhaled another trail of red smoke. “Close your eyes.”
Against my instinct, I felt my eyelids grow heavy and the weight of my head fell onto his shoulder. He shifted my body and wrapped an arm around my waist. I tried to fight sleep as my head fell to his chest, against the steady beating of his heart. He was relaxed, so why wasn’t I?
I woke up as we pulled up to the VVV tower. Velvette, having solidly fallen asleep on Vox was carried up to the elevator first. Valentino offered his hand as I stepped out of the limo. He kept a steady arm around me as we walked towards the elevator. 
“You have nothing to fear, mi amor.” he purred. “We are not the monsters you think that we are.” 
The last thing I remembered was being tucked into my bed and a soft hand pushing the hair out of my eyes.
220 notes · View notes
ljaylmaoo · 3 months ago
Text
Unexpected
Tumblr media
Hook x fem!la bouff!reader
UNEDITED
request: hello! i rarely do any requests but i was wondering if you could write a hook x fem reader where reader is charlotte la bouff's daughter (or if you want to make the timelines match up then charlottes sister) and she's rich and her and hook are secretly dating. thx!! 💕
summary: you and Hook have been secretly dating for the past six months but what happens when your sister Charlotte and best friend Bridget set you up on a date with someone who isn't him?
genre: fluff, a bit of angst?, and more fluff
warnings: mature in terms of language, mention of sex (not much), making out, kisses, argument, dirty joke made by Hook, i think that's it
a/n: sorry it took so long to get this out anon! life can sometimes be a pain in the butt lol, I fixed up a few things in this because i didn't like the way it was going but haven't actually read through it so if there's any errors i apologize. i may fix this up later when i have the time because i feel I could’ve done better but right now i'm just trying to finish the requests i got over the time of writing this. i hope you all enjoy :)
word count: 4.7k
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
“I’m sorry, you two did what?”
You stared at the two bubbly girls who stood in front of you who buzzed with excitement, an almost horrified expression plastered across your face, "we set you up on a blind date for tomorrow during lunch!" Your sister Charlotte repeated proudly as Bridget squealed from excitement beside her. Charlotte has always been obsessed with the idea of love and fairytales. Everything about it she has always adored since you were kids, 'The Frog Prince' being her favourite story growing up which had sparked her dream of finding her true love, preferably a prince, and marrying them one day and wanting the same for you. She was in love with love. Bridget was similar but really only wanted what was best for her loved ones. It wasn't just about love for her, she wanted everyone to succeed in any aspect of life, and as of right now for you, it was love.
Now the reason why the two decided to set you up themselves is because you never showed any interest in love and made it known that you didn't really care for it. Every time the topic came up with the two, you would simply go quiet or try to change the subject if it was directed to you as it always seemed to make you uncomfortable. You "despised" it. Or so they thought.
You gave them a disgusted look, "what! Why?" Bridget giggled, "well, we thought we would help you out. We know you're not the biggest fan of relationships and love.." she trailed off, "but maybe if this goes well, you'll see that it isn't as bad as much as you think!" She said with a hopeful tone, Charlotte nodding in agreement. You rolled your eyes and raised your voice a little, "no way!" making Bridgets smile falter slightly. You felt bad for your rude attitude towards them as you knew they only did this out of the goodness of their hearts and you knew where they were coming from.
You didn't actually "hate" love as much as you made it seem. In fact, you were already in a loving relationship of six months with none other than the James Hook, the pretty brunette pirate who was also a VK. But they didn't know that. No one knew about you and James. They couldn't. You and James established that in the very beginning of your relationship, reason being that James was a VK and you and your sister had a bit of a reputation for being rich and your father being well known for being the "most powerful" man of New Orleans. His friends would also give him a hard time if they found out he went for a "good kid" and one of Bridget's friends of all people.
"Come on, y/n! It's just one little lunch date!" Bridget begged you, her energetic voice going up an octave as she pleaded while the two trailed behind you down the corridor of the dormitory, their pleading eyes piercing through the back of your head, "yeah Y/n! What's the worst that could happen? I mean who knows? Maybe you'll enjoy it!" You scoffed, not daring to look at them, "and if I don't?" Your sister grabbed your arm and turned you to face them, stopping you from entering your dorm, "well, I guess you won't know unless you give it a chance." She said softly, "Please y/n.. we just want to show you that it isn't as bad as you think and that there's nothing to be scared of. Love is a beautiful thing that everyone should be able to experience at least once in their life. It's okay to be afraid, but it's not okay to let that fear get in the way of you having the chance to experience that for yourself. I get that you may not be ready for the whole seriousness of it but please at least give it a try just this once? Who knows, maybe you'll find your happily ever after. And if it doesn't work out then we will never bother you again about the topic. Promise." She swore while delicately placing her hand over her heart.
You stared into your sister's eyes taking in every word she said. You felt bad that you had been lying to them about hating love. You did in fact know the way it felt and yes, it truly was an amazing feeling. You just couldn't let them know your truth on why you've been so opposed to their sweet intentions of doing this for you. It's just lunch, right? They don't expect you to be anything special with this unknown person they've set you up with? After giving it a bit of thought, you decided to agree to their request.
You sighed, "fine. I'll do it." The two girls jumped in excitement, clapping their hands together, "but I'm only doing it so you'll stop bothering me about it." The two girls giggled, "I knew we could convince her!" Bridget beamed, Charlotte picking her up and spinning her around as she squealed, "I know! Now come on, we have some more planning to do! See ya tomorrow, sis!" She yelled as she and Bridget ran hand in hand back down the hall giggling as you watched. You shook your head and couldn't help but smile, letting out a small laugh, you loved making your friends happy.
You opened the door and proceeded inside your dorm, "a date, huh?" You stopped in your tracks and jumped as you heard the voice of your boyfriend and quickly glanced up to see James sitting up on the edge of your bed, "Jesus! How long have you been in here? School literally just ended" he laughed, "I had a free period" he replied, a vicious smirk growing, "Merlin had to deal with an emergency and cancelled class." You sighed, "oh no, what did you do this time?" You crossed your arms giving him a disapproving look, he stood up and strutted over to you, "oh don't worry love, it wasn't me this time." He caressed your face, "Morgs and Hades casted a levitation spell on the books in the library." He chuckled as he recalled, you shook your head and sighed, "and then..?" You waited for him to continue earning a confused look from him, "what?" You walked past him and over to your desk beside your bed, "I find it hard to believe that's all you guys did." You stated while placing your homework on your desk as he waited for you to continue, "it was obviously just a distraction." You finished
Hook cautiously wandered up to you with a slow pace, "okay, so maybe Mali and Uli might've also sprinkled something in the cookie batter for tomorrows dessert.." you raised your eyebrows, "I suggest you don't eat any.." he nervously laughed while sitting on your bed beside you, "but me personally no, I didn't do anything this time darling, promise." He took your hand and pulled you down to sit on the bed with him, "now, tell me about this date your sister and friend set up for you." He said in an almost disgusted tone. He always had trouble with hiding his judgmental facial expressions and tone of voice. You sighed, "James, it's just lunch."
"Yeah, but with another guy? Absolutely not." He declared while rolling his eyes at the thought of you being with anyone other than him. You turned to face him fully, "look I know how it sounds, but I only said yes to it because I knew they wouldn't stop begging me until I said yes." He shook his head, "nope, I'm sorry but I cannot let you go out with a boring goody good twat." You raised your eyebrows at his choice of words, and at the fact that he thinks he had the right to control you, it made you upset. "What gives you the right to be able to control what I do?" You sat up straighter on the bed as you stared at him in confusion, anger visible on your now furrowed brows "I'm sorry but I have no choice, James. They don't know that I'm already in a relationship with you and they can't. No one can. We both know that."
James was now upset, jealousy turning to anger as it pulsed through his veins, "yes I know that, obviously." He retorted in a rude tone, "I just don't understand why you still decided to agree to go on this date when you're already in a relationship. What? Just so you can make your annoying little friend and bratty sister happy?" You took a deep breath in anger and stood up, "okay, woah! First of all, you do not get to call Bridget and Charlotte names." You crossed your arms, "I know your hot headed and rather cruel friend group have a very strong disliking towards my friends because they aren't as miserable as them and actually enjoy life. But you do not get to call Bridget annoying or Charlotte a brat just because you're jealous at the fact that I have to go to lunch with someone I don't know and frankly, I don't even want to go on in the first place." James scoffed, "jealous? Me? Oh darling, never." He laughed. Obviously he was jealous, but he had a tendency to hide his insecurities with believable arrogance that even sometimes he started to believe himself.
You groaned in frustration, "yes, Hook! Jealous." You snapped back, "sometimes, actually no, most times you can be so arrogant and full of yourself it gets to be quite annoying." He stood up, your eyes following his figure as he proceeded to yell at you for "having the audacity to shit talk his friends". Your argument went back and forth for a good few minutes. Both taking shots at each other's friends and personalities until finally Hook stopped you when you got in his face about to drag on the argument, his hands rested on your arms as he sighed, "love" he started, the nickname instantly and involuntarily calming you down, your face resting as you waited for him to continue, "lets stop arguing shall we?" He took your hands in his, "this isn't healthy for us. Letting someone we both don't even know get in between us." You looked up into his brown doe eyes before getting pulled into a hug by him, "I'm sorry for getting angry at you. I just don't like the thought of you being with someone else." You eased into his arms, relaxing your tensed body, "I know, I don't like the thought of it either, but I'm doing it for my sister and B." The two of you made up, talking everything out that then lead to a heated make out session with you straddling his lap, hands tangled in his swept back hair as he held the small of your back with his hook and his hand up your shirt.
You both came to a halt at the sound of a knock at your door, fear in your eyes as you heard the sound of Charlotte and Bridget's voices from the other side calling your name, James instantly took his hand out from under your shirt and you jumped off his lap pulling him to hide behind the door. You quickly fixed yourself up before opening the door, "hey, what's up?" You said trying your best to sound as casual as possible, exhaling heavily. Charlotte eyed you with suspicion, "uh, why did you take so long to open the door?" You tilted your head, "yeah, and why are you so out of breath?" Bridget added, you quickly glanced at Hook who was trying his best to stay quiet, "I was in the middle cleaning my room." You lied, "ookay, well we just wanted to ask you about dessert because someone here decided to use all of her flour for the cupcake batches she made last night." Charlotte explained while glaring at Bridget, "hey! I'm sorry! I was working on a new recipe!" She turned to you who was simply staring at them, "it includes flamingo feathers" she explained, you only nodding in faux interest. "It doesn't mean you had to go and use up a whole bag of flour!" Charlotte replied. You sighed, looking over at James who was just as bored as you, listening to them bicker back and forth which was keeping you two from your previous activities. You rolled your eyes, "guys, guys, okay, guys.." You repeated, trying but failing to interrupt their argument, "you guys!" You finally raised your voice, gaining their attention, "what was it that you wanted to ask? I would love to get back to cleaning my room preferably sometime this week." you said sarcastically, the two girls snapping out of it, "oh, right. We were wondering if you were alright with the cookies from the cafeteria for dessert." You looked over at Hook who rapidly shook his head and mouthed the word 'no' reminding you about what they had done to the batter.
"Y/n?" You looked back over at them in panic, "uh, I don't like the cookies from there." You said, "too dry." Hook silently sighed in relief, "you're right. What about brownies then?" You shrugged, "yeah I'm fine with that." They smiled, "okay brownies it is then" You smiled back at them, "okay well now that that's settled, I need to get back to cleaning, I'll see you guys tomorrow?" They nodded and turned, "okay, bye Y/n/n!" You waved and closed your door exhaling. "god I thought they'd never leave" Hook admitted, fixing his hair. You turned to him letting out a small laugh, "sorry about that" coming closer to him, his hands finding their way back to your waist. The two of you enjoyed the thrill of sneaking around, finding the risk of people finding out about your relationship almost exhilarating. You cupped his face and continued kissing him.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
The next morning you were doing your make up before school when James swiftly snuck into your dorm, slamming the door shut behind him. You looked over at him, a look of distress evident on his face as he had his back rested up against the door. "You okay, love?" You questioned, "no!" He cried, you got up and walked closer to him, "why? Whats wrong?" You asked genuinely concerned. He ran up to you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you tightly as he buried his head into the crook of your neck, "the thought that you have a date with someone else today has been killing me!" He whined. You couldn't help but giggle at his clinginess and jealousy, it was  rare for him not to mask it, there has been times like this before but it has never gotten this severe as you've never had to go on a date with someone other than him. You hugged him just as tight, "oh James, it's okay" you smiled, "how about tonight after curfew we can go to the garden and have a date of our own? A real one." You suggested. He slowly lifted his head off your shoulder and looked at you, "but what if he treats you better? What if you actually do end up falling in love with him and you'd want to be with him instead of me?" He rambled on, speaking the thoughts that had been invading his head all night and morning aloud. "Hey, hey, that's not gonna happen. I promise! No one can or will ever replace you my love." You kissed him softly, "plus no one's as handsome or attractive as you." He grinned, "yeah, I know" You playfully rolled your eyes, "exactly, I don't even have to tell you that cause you already know it's true." He continued smiling, "you don't, but I just like hearing it come out of that pretty mouth of yours." You scoffed and shook your head, "and yet I question why your ego's so big." You pulled away and went to sit back down at your vanity with him following behind, "well I'd probably say it's because the way you scream my name in bed like you did last ni-" you smacked his chest chest, "oh my god, shut up James." You scolded before sitting down on the chair, he only shrugged, "I'm just saying that I'd be surprised if everyone on your floor still don't know we're together after that." You glared at him and picked up your blush and brush and began applying it to your face with light strokes.
He watched you in admiration with a soft smile, "god you're gorgeous darling" he quietly his thoughts out loud again this time in a whisper. You looked up at him in the mirror and met his gaze, a shy smile creeping up, "you're so sweet" he gently cupped the side of your face and placed a kiss on your forehead from above, "I'll see you after school, yeah?" You nodded and gave him one more peck on the lips, "of course." He walked back to the door, "okay, I love you." You smiled, "I love you too."
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
You were on your way to class with Bridget and Charlotte, the two telling you about how much they think you'd enjoy the date and that you had nothing to be afraid of when Uliana had come up to you guys, purposely bumping into Bridget as she harshly shoved her causing her to fall, "oops, sorry! Didn't see you there." She giggled evilly. "Hey watch it inky!" You immediately stood up for your pink haired friend while Charlotte helped her up. The VK's all stopped and turned back to you, you looked over at your boyfriend who had a dreaded look on his face, "excuse me?" Uliana stepped closer, Bridget and Charlotte taking a step back behind you in fear, you sighed in annoyance, "I said to watch where you're going." Bridget hiding closer behind you with a squeak while peaking over your shoulder. Uliana glanced at her friends and let out a laugh, "I'm sorry, princess. It's not my fault she's so invisible." She stated, Morgie, Maleficent and Hades looking at you with the same hatred in their eyes as her while Hook was simply watching in silence. "Says the one who has to wear platform boots to not look like a seven year old that I personally find to be a bit tacky." Hook and Charlotte stifled a laugh from escaping their mouths at the insult as you continued, "If you would like some fashion advice, I'd be happy to help" you smiled a painfully fake smile, Uliana stepped closer stopping just inches from your face, the rest of them following, "you keep talking and you'll regret it, so I suggest you watch your mouth and get to class." She hissed, you crossed your arms and stood up straighter, "oh yeah? And what if I don't?" There was a worried look on Hooks face as he was ready to intervene but as Uliana was about to reply she was cut off by the bell causing him and your friends to sigh in relief. You gave her and the group one last smile, "maybe next time. See ya" you shrugged before pushing Bridget and Charlotte away from the group who were still standing in the same spot watching as you strolled down the hall untouched, winking at your boyfriend before turning around.
︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵
Lunch had finally come around and you were on your way to the courtyard where your date was going to be when you were pulled into a dark, empty classroom causing you to squeal. Your mouth was then covered when you were placed up against the wall out of sight. It was Hook who had an unreadable expression on his face, he slowly took his hand off your mouth and you instantly started talking, "what are you doing?!" You whisper yelled, he shushed you as he peeked around the door waiting for the last bit of people to disappear into the cafeteria. You crossed your arms impatiently as he finally turned to you, "why did you have to go and choose a fight with Uli?!" He began, you let out a breathless scoff, "what the hell do you mean by "choose a fight"? She was the one who started it! I was only standing up for B." He sighed, "yeah? Well now she's been non stop talking about you about how she wants to quite literally kill you." You raised your eyebrows, "her words, not mine." He corrected. You shrugged unbothered, "if it means she's gonna stop bothering Bridget, I'm fine with that." He shook his head, "love, I just want you to be careful. You know how much of a bitch she can be, and she has no limits whatsoever. So please, I'm just looking out for you." You took in his words, sighing and nodding and stopped when you heard Bridget and Charlotte talking in the hallway, "where is she? She said she'd be here." You made eye contact with him while you listened to their conversation, "do you think she bailed?" The other sighed, "I wouldn't put it past her." After hearing that, without thinking, you instantly walked out of the classroom and into the hall, you saw the worried expressions wash away as they relaxed, "oh thank goodness you're here. Uh, what were you doing with him?" You tilted your head in confusion and turned to see Hook who seemed to have walked out right after you, you looked back at them, "was he picking on you?" Bridget asked, the worried expression found its way back to her face. You nodded, "yeah, it was just a bunch of empty threats though. I'm fine." You said simply, "y/n, you should be more carefu-" she cut herself off, "you know what never mind, you have a date to get to!" The two started pulling you towards the courtyard, "it's all set up, you're gonna love it!" They explained.
When you entered the courtyard, you saw people scattered around the area, talking and going about their daily lives as always. You then spotted a table with a little cloth over it and a picnic basket and candle on top. You found it cute that your friends did all this just for you. You then looked at the guy sitting there and instantly recognized him as one of the defenders on the tourney team. You took a deep shaky breath, all the guys on the team were assholes and tools. But you decided to trust their better judgement and walked over to him. He looked up at you and stood up, "hey, I'm Daniel." He stuck his hand out to greet you, you smiled, "y/n. Nice to meet you." The two of you sat down, "so how'd B and Charlotte convince you to do this?" You laughed, he smiled, "they didn't have to, they just told me there would be free food and I couldn't turn that down." You both laughed. So far so good.
Hook observed from afar, leaning up against a tree, jealousy and anger bubbled within as he watched as you forced a laugh out while the guy talked. He didn't like how the guy didn't let you talk or how obnoxious he was. Though it wasn't a real date, or so you claimed, he still hated to see someone treat you so poorly. He could see the forced smile on your face, trying your best to act interested in what he was saying. Hook knew you better than anyone, including your own sister, so he knew you were bored and wanted to get out of there as soon as possible. "Hey J, whatcha up to?" Morgie came up from behind him causing him to jump a little, Morgie followed his eye line and smiled, "nothing, just observing.." he said with a disgusted tone which was thankfully perceived as being disgusted by you and not jealousy. Morgie simply nodded, "well, Uli told me to come find you, she has a plan she wanted to share." Hook nodded, not taking his eyes off you, "okay, I'll..." he trailed off when he saw the guy stand up and gave you his hand to take and watched intently as he leaned in with you slowly backing away, "fuck that." he instantly ran up to you, yanking you away and pulling you into a kiss instead causing you to gasp. You pulled away, "what are you-" you stared into his eyes and immediately kissed him again laying your hands on his chest. His soft lips on yours as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. You heard audible gasps from Bridget and Charlotte and some whispering from others, Daniel was about to protest but understood what was happening and walked off. You broke the kiss and stared into his eyes, "I love you." You whispered while brushing his hair back that covered his face, he smiled, "I love you too."
"Y/n!" You jumped at the sound of Charlotte's angered voice and looked to the two, her face filled with confused frustration and Bridget beside her with a surprised look, "uh, yeah..?" You said nervously, "I can't believe this." You sighed, ready for the long rant on how it was unacceptable for you to be with a VK. "Look, I'm sorry but.." Charlotte shook her head, "I can't believe you didn't tell us!" Bridget's face lit up, "yeah! Oh my gosh! Y/n, I'm so proud of you!" She enveloped you in a strong warm hug as she spun you around. “How long have you been together?” You chuckled nervously, “uh, about six months” the two girls jaws dropped in shock. After a few moments Bridget spoke up, "now that I think of it, it was so obvious I'm surprised we never put the pieces together!" You frowned, "what do you mean, obvious?" She crossed her arms with a grin, "well, he never picked on you like ever. He only ever listened to you when you would tell them to stop picking on us and today, he had a cute concerned look on his face when you stood up for me!" She thought about it and she lowered her voice, "oh my gosh... were you guys... in the classroom?!" You both shook your heads violently, "no, no, no. We weren't. I swear!" You defended. She looked over at Hook and back over at you, "okay, but does he treat you, you know? Good?" You smiled and looked over at him, "yes, he's a sweetheart actually" Bridget tilted her head in adoration of you two. "really? He's a sweetheart?" Charlotte spoke up in a surprised tone while pointing and looking him up and down, him returning the look to her, "yes, I know. Shocking." You snorted causing him to roll his eyes and the girls giggle. You looked behind the girls and met eyes with Morgie who was with the rest of the VKs who were looking at you with a glare, then the thought hit you. You turned to James, "oh... what about your friends?" He followed to where you were looking and sighed, "I'll deal with them later. I'm just happy we can finally stop hiding." You both smiled at each other lovingly and he gave you a light kiss on the forehead. "Me too."
Charlotte and Bridget being able to see you be in love made them feel like proud parents, ecstatic about the fact that their sister and best friend had possibly found her happily ever after.
90 notes · View notes