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dindjarindiaries · 4 years

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Thunder - Chapter 6: Thunder

summary: With the tensions of life and feelings at an all-time high, Frankie and Luciana finally find themselves in the eye of their own kind of storm—and wonder where they can go from here.

warnings: storms, light angst, fluff

rating: R

word count: 5.695k

masterlist

chapter 6: thunder

It’s finally the night before graduation—and Frankie’s a fucking mess.

He’s trying to come to terms with the idea of leaving this house, this life, the girl who lives right down the hall and will be taking his heart with her wherever she goes, and the simple thought of it makes him sick to his stomach. Frankie wants to be able to control it, to keep all of these things the same somehow yet work towards his dream of piloting, but he knows he can’t have it both ways. Some things he can change, but he just doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to.

Still, Frankie wants to try. He thinks that maybe if he had tried harder with his mom, somehow figured out that she wasn’t acting the same before her condition was diagnosed and it was too late, then he wouldn’t have lost her. He hopes that he can prevent the same thing from happening with Luciana. If he tells her how he feels now, before it’s too late, maybe he won’t lose her. Half of him is afraid he may already be too late—but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t at least try.

Frankie releases a sigh as he sits up from where he’s been staring blankly at his ceiling, contemplating his next move. Benny’s frat house is throwing a goddamn rager tonight, going absolutely wild for the last night of their college careers, but both Frankie and Luciana aren’t feeling up to it; they know they’d both leave early, anyway. Now, it’s just the two of them in the house, and with the boys having just left, Frankie’s determined to make some kind of move. He forces himself to make his way out of his room and stop at Luciana’s, not even thinking twice as he lightly raps his knuckles against her door. He keeps his gaze fixed on the floor as he waits for her to answer, his free hand tapping against the side of his leg. He’s not sure why he’s feeling nervous—it’s Luciana, what does he have to be afraid of?—but still his fingers work anxiously against the material of his jeans as he waits for her.

The door opens within a few seconds, and Frankie sees Luciana standing there with her usual soft gaze and a raised brow. It almost looks hopeful, as if she’s been waiting for him to show up. The thought makes Frankie smile just a bit. “What’s up, Flyboy?” Luciana greets him, leaning against her doorframe as she looks up at him.

Frankie gives himself a little time to muse on this moment. He loves this position, her looking up at him with such endearment and him looking down at her with the same feeling. He’d kiss her if he had the balls to do it. But the time’s just not right—at least, not yet. Frankie abandons his daydream as he offers her a small shrug. “I know we’re not up for the party, but I wanted to do something,” Frankie explains. “Y’know, for our last night before graduation. I figured we could maybe get something to go and then go to Mayweather.”

Luciana smiles at Frankie’s proposition. Mayweather Beach is a local piece of the long beach that touches the Atlantic Ocean about twenty minutes away from the house, and since it doesn’t allow parties, it’s bound to be empty at this time. “That sounds great, Frankie.” Frankie smiles wider at that. “Gimme a few minutes and I’ll be right down.”

Frankie nods at her, stepping away as she closes her bedroom door. He knows there’s a glow to him now that’d be hard to get rid of as he quickly jogs into his room and gets himself a little bit nicer. He wears one of those button-up tropical print shirts like he’d worn that night to the bar, even opting for some cargo shorts and sandals for easy removal on the sand. Frankie refuses to leave without his signature hat, leaving it atop his head as he reaches for a sweatshirt should the night air get chilly and heads downstairs. He checks his pockets for his wallet and hopes that Luciana’s been wise enough to leave hers upstairs.

When Frankie hears her approaching, his brain almost short-circuits at the way she’s fixed herself up. She wears a long-sleeved white top that wraps around her and ties together in a knot at the center of her chest, the waist of her shorts leaving a reasonable gap of skin as they hug tight to her body. Her hair flows graciously over her shoulders, and Frankie notices how her warm brown gaze sparkles just above the plethora of adorable freckles that line her cheeks. He’s a sucker and he knows it.

“Looks like we both decided to dress up, huh?” Luciana jokes, nudging Frankie’s shoulder as she approaches him and looking him up and down obviously. “I haven’t seen you in something so different since—.”

“—that night at the bar.” Frankie finishes with a smile. “Yeah, funny how that works.”

Luciana bites her smile back and shakes her head. Frankie wants to laugh at how fucking obvious it is that they’re sharing the same thoughts yet saying nothing—but he also wants to cry out at the way they both feel so conflicted about it. If there wasn’t such outside pressure, if there wasn’t an expectation they’d agreed to meet, they could’ve pushed past this weeks ago and started the life together that they wanted to. Instead, they’re involved in this weird tango, dancing around each other and wondering if either one of them is brave enough to step forward and take the other’s hand.

As they leave the house, Frankie locks it behind them, offering a chuckle before looking over at Luciana. “You better not have brought any money.”

Luciana looks up at him incredulously. “You think you’re paying for anything tonight?”

“Everything.” Frankie offers the correction with emphasis as they both get into his faithful truck.

“No, Francisco. I refuse.” Luciana dramatically crosses her arms, giving Frankie a playful side-eye.

“Too bad, Luciana, because we always agree that whoever made the plans has to make the payment—and I just so happened to make these plans.” Frankie smirks as he backs out of the driveway, already heading to the dive where he’ll be getting their dessert takeout.

Luciana fully looks over at Frankie now, her eyes narrowed as she shakes her head. “Fuck you and your rational thinking, Morales.”

Frankie laughs, smiling in victory as he pulls into the roughed-up lot of the dive. “I’ll be back in a few,” he announces, hopping out of the truck and making his way inside. He’s glad to spot Marlena as soon as he walks in, and she immediately heads over to him to get his order.

“Ah, so she’s making you run errands now, huh?” Marlena teases, raising a curious eyebrow at Frankie.

He laughs and lifts his hat from his head, brushing a hand over his hair before setting it back down. “No, no, this was my idea.”

Marlena hands the written order off to someone else as she continues to stand by Frankie, one hand on her hip as she looks at him with hopefulness. “You finally gonna tell her somethin’, or what?”

Frankie takes a deep breath, crossing his arms and shrugging. “That’s the goal. But who knows. I’ll probably freak out again and keep it to myself.” Marlena’s been the receiving end of his “relationship” struggles for a few weeks, now, this having been the destination of many of his self-contemplative walks.

“Tonight’s the night for it,” Marlena insists, tapping a straw against Frankie’s shoulder. “Isn’t your graduation tomorrow?”

“It is.” Frankie sighs, giving Marlena a nod. “I know. I’ll try. It’s just—well, you know.”

“I know.” Marlena smiles as she takes the to-go milkshakes from another waitress, putting them in a drink carrier for Frankie. She slides them over and places a hand on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, kiddo. Everything will be alright. Life has a funny way of working itself out like that.”

Frankie smiles back, feeling oddly comforted by her words. “Thanks, Marlena.” He hands her his cash and a big tip as usual, soon heading back out to the truck with the drinks in hand. As he hops up inside the truck, Luciana gives an impressed look.

“That was fast,” Luciana comments, taking the drinks to hold on her lap while Frankie drives. “I’m surprised Marlena didn’t try to hold you up.”

“Oh, trust me, she tried,” Frankie half-jokes, giving Luciana a funny look before he pulls onto the road. For the rest of the drive to the beach, the two talk about their expectations for tomorrow, wondering which one of the guys is bound to do something embarrassing while they walk or which one will yell the loudest for the others. Frankie’s ranking is easy—he’s the least likely to do either. But he knows he can depend on hearing a loud Fish! coming from the direction of his brothers. Luciana can’t decide if the guys or her girl friends are going to be louder. Frankie knows it’ll probably be the guys. It always is.

He’s afraid for the day when that “is” turns into a “was.”

Soon, Frankie’s pulling into the parking lot just along the fence of the beach, grabbing his emergency blanket from the back of his truck and walking alongside Luciana onto the sand. Just as he’d predicted, the beach is practically empty, save for a few who live along the beach going for walks as the sky begins to darken. There’s a few dark clouds in the distance, but Frankie doesn’t worry about that for now. He only chuckles sadly to himself at the irony of it all, as if the dark thoughts of the future he has are already beginning to loom and manifest themselves physically in his life.

Frankie lays out the blanket and helps Luciana to sit, taking one of her hands as she positions herself with the other. She thanks him before he does the same to him, already having kicked off his sandals as he buries his feet in the sand—right alongside hers. They take their respective shakes and start drinking them, sitting in peaceful silence that’s only filled with the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. They’re bigger than usual. For some odd reason, it makes Frankie even more calm.

There’s a heaviness in the air, and while it’s extremely humid outside, Frankie knows there’s more to it. There are so many unspoken things between him and Luciana and it’s almost as if it’s creating its own kind of humidity. Frankie knows he should say something, but he doesn’t know what; he’s thought about it for so long, but he still can’t think of anything. Part of him wishes Luciana would do it. The wiser part of him knows that he should. If anything, she’s probably waiting for him on purpose, because she’s the most goddamn considerate and caring person Frankie’s ever known and she knows he has a heart that’s broken and delicate—so she wants him to be the one to tell her that he’s ready. Frankie thinks over all of this and it causes the silence to go on.

“Care to share what’s going on in there?” Luciana finally says, crashing through the quiet like the waves on the shore as she lightly flicks his temple. Frankie looks over to see her gaze twinkling with amusement yet concern, and he laughs softly when she raises an eyebrow. “Holy fuck, I sounded like Dr. Seuss.”

Frankie laughs harder at that. “I guess that’s what your degree’s gotten you.”

Luciana snorts, sipping her milkshake as she looks out to the ocean for a quick moment. “I’d hope my business degree would get me… well, a business.”

Frankie continues looking at her, silently admiring the way her brown eyes flicker so beautifully in the evening light as she observes the crashing waters ahead. “It will, Luce. You’ll have one of the best-running damn businesses this place has ever seen. And maybe I can fly some shipments of shit to you or something.”

Luciana laughs, looking back at Frankie with amusement and gratitude. “Thank you, Frankie. I don’t know if that’s how it works, though.”

Frankie shrugs. “We can make an exception, right?”

Luciana huffs and looks down at her cup, one of her hands fiddling with the straw. “There’s a lot of exceptions I wish I could make.”

Frankie tilts his head down at her, lifting one hand to gently brush against her arm. It captures her attention immediately, and her gaze practically melts into his own. It makes Frankie’s heart race. “I know. Me too.”

Luciana gives him a smile that’s appropriately as sad as his own, and soon her hand slides up until it meets his. She laces her fingers with his slowly—as if she’s absorbing every little touch—and takes a heavy breath, one that weighs just as much upon Frankie’s own chest. There’s no more words spoken for a while, just space that stops existing between them as Luciana’s side is soon much closer to Frankie’s. Once their shake cups are emptied, Frankie puts them in the carrier and sets them aside, and his heart practically jumps in his chest when Luciana’s head softly meets his shoulder.

Hands still entwined, Frankie gives hers a gentle squeeze, opting for that instead of nudging her head with his shoulder. “What’s goin’ on in that pretty little head of yours?”

Luciana’s warm gaze lifts to meet Frankie’s, a slight blush and a small smile appearing. “Did you just call me pretty, Flyboy?”

Frankie feels his own cheeks reddening now as he raises an eyebrow at her. “Don’t act like you don’t know it already, Luce.” She chuckles and shakes her head, causing Frankie’s heart to beat faster at the way he feels the motion against his shoulder. “Answer the question.”

Luciana sighs softly, finally returning Frankie’s squeeze as her gaze looks thoughtfully out at the water. “I was just thinking about tomorrow, of course. And how grateful I am to have had the experience I did. Spending these years with you and my brother and the guys has been just… so amazing.” Frankie smiles at her words—especially at the separation of him from the guys. Luciana’s silent for a moment, and when Frankie looks down at her again, he sees that her gaze is ever so slightly starting to fill with tears. The sight breaks his heart. “I’m really gonna miss it, Frankie.” She looks up at him again. “I’m really gonna miss you.”

Frankie drops her hand to fully wrap his arm around her shoulders in a comforting manner, inviting her to lean into him further as she wraps her arms around his middle. Her head now rests against the inside of his shoulder, her gaze still looking to the ocean for escape as he finds the words to speak. “I’m gonna miss you too, Luce,” Frankie says, running his thumb over her shoulder as he talks, “so damn much. I agree—these years have been incredible. You have no idea how much they’ve helped me grow and move on from… well, you know.” Luciana nods, holding him a bit tighter at that. “But just because this phase of our lives ends tomorrow doesn’t mean we have to.”

Luciana’s gaze floats up to Frankie’s, and once again, he’s in that position where he wishes with all his heart he could just say fuck it and kiss her with all the love he’s holding hostage in his heart. Instead, he lets her search his gaze and find the same desperation she feels also in him. “I don’t know what I’d do without it, Frankie.”

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Without college?”

Luciana scoffs and slaps his chest with one of her hands. “No, you dumbass.” They share a light laugh before she goes on. “Without you—us.”

Frankie’s heart somehow both grows and falls apart at Luciana’s words, his arm pulling her closer to him as rests his head against her own. “You won’t have to know, Luci. I promise. I’ll do all I can.”

Luciana’s eyes fall closed as she lets her head fall even further into Frankie. “I hope so, Frankie. I really do.”

In the silence that follows, three words tug so viciously at Frankie’s chest that he can barely breathe. They dance along his tongue, which is only bitten back by the clenching of his jaw as his nerves get the best of him. Frankie can’t make a fool of himself. If he says those words, he won’t be able to take them back. And this, whatever this is right here, is so beautiful to him that he can’t risk losing it. Frankie resolves to just live in this moment with the girl he loves, holding her close to him for what could be the last time in a long time—no matter how many promises he makes.

Suddenly, the low rumbling of thunder sounds in the distance. Frankie looks from where he’s been staring endlessly into the horizon to see those dark clouds from before hovering much closer now. The humidity’s only gotten worse since they’d arrived, and Frankie knows it’ll be a matter of time before the moisture in the air turns into real drops of water. A stronger wind starts to blow, one gust nearly knocking the hat from Frankie’s head as it picks up. Luciana finally leans up from Frankie’s shoulder, her brow creasing in worry at their surroundings. Frankie chuckles softly.

“What’s with the look?” Frankie jokes. “I thought you were a pluviophile.”

Luciana nudges his shoulder with hers as she tries to suppress a smile. “Not when we’re about to be in the middle of it, by the fucking ocean,” she scoffs.

Frankie’s about to make some smartass remark when they can hear the oncoming wave of rain along the ocean, causing them to scramble to their feet. Luciana squeals the moment the rain reaches them, starting slow but getting faster quickly. Another roll of thunder sounds from much closer by, and Frankie starts to panic for Luciana’s more exposed skin as he finds his sweatshirt and hands it to her. “Take this!” Frankie exclaims over the sound of the now-pouring rain.

“Frankie, it’s yours!” Luciana tries to argue. “You take it!”

“Just wear the damn sweatshirt!” Frankie insists with a laugh, scooping up the blanket and the trash and taking her by the arm as they run back to the truck. Frankie drops off the trash in a nearby can before he heads in himself, laughing with Luciana as they finally get under some shelter. He looks and sees her hair dampened and sticking to her face, her clothes thankfully somewhat dry underneath his sweatshirt. Frankie’s lost all hope for himself, thankful for his hat that at least protected his hair.

“Holy shit, where did that come from?” Luciana giggles as Frankie pulls out of the parking lot, starting to head back to the house.

“I have no idea. I didn’t even know it was supposed to storm.” Frankie tries not to let the same darkness of the storm cloud his own mind as he realizes his perfect moment was broken. He looks over to see Luciana watching the storm from outside the window, her eyes lighting up along with the flashes of lightning.

Somehow, not even the sight of her enthusiasm can stop his own oncoming storm.

Frankie’s hands grip the wheel tighter as he drives on. All his dark thoughts are hitting him at once. He should’ve used that moment to tell her his feelings. Now, he’s going to lose her, just like his mom. Just like he told her she wouldn’t. Just like he’s been fearing himself. Frankie doesn’t know what the fuck he’ll do without her. The thought of it is filling him with such fear, anxiety, and anger that he’s sure a lightning bolt is somehow going to leap out of him. It’s building up and he can only hope that he can get them home before he lashes out in private, sparing Luciana of his tumultuous emotions.

But then, the truck begins to stall. Frankie’s brow wrinkles together in concern as feels it winding down. He realizes that the leaky radiator he hasn’t had time to fix yet is overheating—and now he’ll have to stop to cool it down if he wants a chance at getting home. Even with the knowledge of that easy fix, Frankie can’t handle it anymore, and his storm begins to rain down just as hard as the one outside.

“Fuck!” Frankie yells as he pulls over, his hand slamming against the wheel as he does so. Out of his peripherals, he can see Luciana’s head turn quickly in his direction, as if the action scared her. “Fuck!” Frankie’s body falls back against the seat as he releases a heavy sigh, his hands still holding tight to the wheel. “Not the truck. You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.”

“What is it?” Luciana asks worriedly, her voice a little more timid than usual at Frankie’s unprecedented anger.

“It’s that damn radiator,” Frankie answers, lifting his hat and running his hand over his hair. “It’s overheated. If I don’t fix it, I’ll lose the truck.” Frankie clicks his tongue, shaking his head before he slams the wheel again. “Fuck!”

“Frankie, it’s alright, it’s an easy fix.” Luciana tries to calm him down, also setting a gentle hand on his arm as she looks at him with concern. “Don’t get so worked up.”

“I can’t help it, Luce!” Frankie confesses, unable to look at her as he watches the rain pour down against the hood of his truck. “I just—this reminds me that I’m close to losing this truck and I can’t. I know it sounds ridiculous because it’s just a goddamn truck but she was my first one. I love this thing.” Frankie shakes his head, tightening his hands even more around the wheel as he pours the words practically from his heart. “I love it and I’m tired of losing what I love! My mom’s gone, you’re off to God-knows-what, my truck’s close to kicking it—.”

“Wait.” Luciana cuts him off, leaning closer to press a hand against his chest. Frankie finally looks back into her gaze, which is now flickering with warmth at his words. “Me? With what you love?”

The realization of what he revealed hits Frankie in that moment, and his mouth falls open in shock as he searches her gaze. He tries to speak, but he doesn’t know what to say. “I… Luci, I—I’ve been meaning to tell you, I thought you might’ve known—.”

“I did.” Luciana’s voice is so quiet now that Frankie can barely hear it over the sound of the rain hitting the truck. Frankie watches in awe as her hand raises from his chest to his cheek, her thumb gently brushing over his cheek. A smile starts to form on her lips as she looks at him in amazement. “And I do, too.”

Frankie can’t even process the words for a moment as he sits there, the ghost of a smile appearing when it finally starts to register. “Really?”

Luciana fully smiles as she runs her thumb over his cheek again. “Don’t act like you don’t know it already, Flyboy,” she uses his comeback from earlier.

Frankie’s hands finally fall from the wheel, resting idly on his lap as Luciana continues to lean over him. He feels as if he’s in a dream and part of him wants to pinch himself to make sure he’s not. Still, even with the confirmed knowledge of the love they share, he can’t celebrate. He doesn’t know what to do with this, now. All he can do is hold his breath and manage to speak with whatever he has left. “What do we do now, Luce?”

Luciana’s gaze only trails down his face, following her thumb that continues to run over his cheek before it drops to his lips. She looks back up to meet his eyes, and Frankie can see the same mixture of strong affection and desire he’d seen that night at the bar. “Kiss me.” The words come low and breathless, as if she can barely breathe without his touch.

It strikes something deep within Frankie, and he doesn’t even think twice before he reaches for her face and closes the gap between them. The relief is so sweet that it causes the both of them to sigh into each other’s mouths, the storm outside now mirroring what they’re creating themselves as Frankie pulls Luciana even closer to himself. She ends up straddling him on the seat of the truck, and Frankie swears he’s never felt as complete and comfortable as he does in this moment. His hands glide from her face down to her waist and then her thighs, like he’s known the feeling of her body forever. His stomach is soaring as if he’s already flying, his heart thumping against his chest as his mouth keeps moving against hers. When they finally pull away to breathe, they stay close, and Frankie watches as a smile grows on Luciana’s lips.

“Damn, Morales—if I knew you could kiss me like that, I would’ve asked you to a long time ago.”

Frankie lets out a soft laugh as he starts to blush, brushing his thumbs over the skin of her thighs in just the way she likes. “I can’t believe what I’ve been letting myself miss out on.”

Luciana giggles before she plants a kiss on the stubble along his jaw, leaving a few more there that cause a fire to ignite deep in Frankie’s stomach. “There’s a lot more where that came from.” Luciana lifts her head once again, touching her nose to his. “But if you don’t take care of the truck, we’re gonna be stuck in this storm forever.”

Frankie chuckles and nods, reaching to at least kiss her for another quick moment before forcing himself to pull away. “Alright.”

He helps her to climb back off his lap as he prepares himself to get out into the storm, reaching for the coolant in his backseat and hurrying to the front of the truck. He lifts the hood and takes care of the radiator, his mind going everywhere else except the truck at the moment. Frankie’s in awe of the events that just took place—but he’s also still afraid of what’s to come. Now that they’ve crossed this line, he knows they can’t go back, and there’s going to be consequences to what they’re allowing themselves to do. For now, Frankie doesn’t dwell on those, but he knows he’ll have to eventually.

Once he finishes up, he closes the hood, shocked to see Luciana suddenly getting out of the truck. He shakes his head and points to the truck. “I’m done!” Frankie exclaims to her over the pouring rain. “We can get back in the truck!”

Luciana doesn’t respond as she fully approaches him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close. “But you haven’t kissed me in the rain, yet,” Luciana insists, her brown gaze glittering with such excitement and love that Frankie can’t deny her request. He smiles before he kisses her again, amazed at how it still takes his breath away just like the first one as his hands fall on her waist and pull her completely against him. Luciana’s hands glide along his neck and up to his face, admiring his features before they pull away.

“Okay, I’m not letting you get sick,” Frankie states, gesturing back to the truck. “Let’s go!”

Luciana laughs as they hurry back inside the truck, giggling like teenagers in love as they finally start heading back to the house again. Frankie’s hand stays tight in Luciana’s the entire drive back, a peaceful silence falling before he decides to break it with a cheeky smile.

“So,” Frankie starts, giving Luciana a quick look of amusement, “am I really a good kisser?”

Luciana chuckles softly, giving his hand a squeeze as her eyes widen. “Listen, Frankie, I’ve kissed quite a few guys,” she tells him, “and I’ve had yet to experience something that feels like that.”

Frankie snorts and runs his thumb over her knuckles. “That’s good to know. I just…” he sighs, trying to piece his words together, “… I wasn’t sure, y’know?”

Luciana tuts and shakes her head. “You underestimate yourself, Frankie. In so many ways.” She brings his hand to her lips for a moment as she leaves a soft kiss there. “You really think I would’ve fallen in love with someone who wasn’t so kind, caring, and hot?”

Frankie laughs as his cheeks redden again and he shakes his head in slight embarrassment. “Alright, alright. I get it.” He gives her a quick look of affection. “‘Fallen in love’ though, huh? It’s nice to hear that.”

“You better get used to it, Morales.” Luciana’s tone is playful yet serious, her hand only leaving his to brush over his cheek as he drives. “Because I love you and I’ll remind you of that as many times as you need to hear it.”

Frankie’s heart swells at the words, another smile spreading on his lips as he takes her hand and squeezes it tight. “I love you too, Luce. A lot.”

“I know.” Luciana leans over to kiss his cheek, and Frankie’s half-tempted to turn his face so that it lands on his lips—but he knows better while he’s driving.

As soon as they pull into the driveway of the house, Frankie stops the truck, turning to face Luciana with a raised brow. “What now, Luci? Do we just say fuck it and go for this in front of the guys, or go on pretending this doesn’t exist?”

Luciana sighs softly, holding Frankie’s face between her hands as she looks him deep in the eye. “Remember what I told you after Santi talked to us. You’re allowed to feel what you feel, and so am I. We’re allowed to have this and no one can tell us otherwise. But I know that these are your brothers—and mine, too. And if you don’t want to parade this around them, I understand. Just know that any single moment when they’re not looking? I’m gonna be yours.”

Frankie nods at Luciana, absorbing the feeling of her hands on his face. He takes a deep breath and then nods. “Alright. We can try that. It’ll be hard…” Frankie trails off for a moment as his gaze drifts to his fingers, which walk their way onto the skin of her thigh before his gaze wanders back to her eyes, “… but it’ll be worth it.”

Luciana smiles, leaning in for a quick kiss before they resolve to get into the house. Hand-in-hand, they run through the downpour, jumping a bit when a loud roll of thunder sounds but then laughing once they’re safe inside. Knowing the boys are still at Benny’s, Frankie doesn’t have to be shy yet about pulling her body to his, wrapping his arms around her in a lame attempt at warmth as he leaves a kiss on her head.

“You need to warm up,” Frankie instructs her softly. “I know you don’t need me telling you this, but please—for my piece of mind. You can’t be sick on graduation day.”

Luciana looks up from where she’d buried her face in Frankie’s chest, raising an eyebrow as giggles at him. “You’re just saying that because you wanna kiss me and you can’t if I’m sick.”

Frankie shrugs at her. “Maybe. But don’t you want that, too?” He chuckles before he leans down to kiss her again, unable to get enough of the feeling as his mouth moves against hers in such a perfect rhythm.

Luciana pulls away, but stays close, her nose and lips still brushing against his as she speaks. “Sure.” She leaves another peck on his lips before she leans away again. “I guess this means bedtime, huh?”

Frankie nods. “Big day tomorrow.”

Luciana shrugs. “I know I won’t be getting rid of you anytime soon, so I think it’ll be fine.”

Frankie chuckles as they walk hand-in-hand up the stairs, not wanting to part until it’s absolutely necessary. When they get to Luciana’s room, they stop, and she stares up at him with affection that takes Frankie’s breath away. “Goodnight, Luce. I’ll see you first thing tomorrow, okay?”

Luciana frowns dramatically, putting her arms around his neck as her fingers play with the curls peeking out from under his hat. “Don’t leave me just yet. Lay with me.”

“I wish I could. But you know… the boys—if they come home and they see…”

“I know.” Luciana gives Frankie an understanding nod and pulls him in for one last kiss. “Goodnight, Flyboy. I love you.”

The words still hit Frankie in a deep place that he can’t explain, grinning like an idiot as he brushes a hand over her cheek. “I love you too.” His voice is almost as gentle as the kiss he leaves on her forehead, regretful to leave her arms as he heads to his own bedroom. The entire way there, his smile never fades, and the first thing he does regardless of his soaked clothes is pull out his journal—refusing to dwell on the consequences of his actions as he grabs his pen.

Mom,

I did it. I get to be with the love of my life.

And for the first time in much too long, Frankie sheds a tear that’s meant for joy and not for sadness.

next part: chapter 7: lightning

thunder tag list: @youhavereachedtheendofpie @charmantbarnes @theindiealto @fangirl-and-stuff @phoenixhalliwell @maybege @amarvelousmandalorian @seawhisperer @mrsparknuts @saltywintersoldat @softpedropascal @i-hide-inside-my-head @sunshinepascal @domino-oh-damn @thirsty-flygirl @awesomefandomsunited @ezraslittleblondestreak @b0n-chann

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @javier-djarin

#oh my gosh #oh my gOSH!#frankieeeeeeeee stop it i'm soft #sir #frankie morales #catfish morales #francisco morales #triple frontier #thunder fic #dindjarindiaries

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waterloou · 4 years

Note

friendship + cd

(This turned out to be ab Dante whoops)

Dante groaned as he heard a tap on his window. He looked at his clock and swore. It was 3am.

Fangs was sound asleep in his bed, limbs twisted in odd directions, and snoring. Dante got up quietly and opened the curtains to see CD grinning at him. He yanked open the window and grabbed his friend by the ear.

“Ow-shit!” CD hissed, and pulled away, running his ear with a frown, “why you gotta do that for?”

“It’s three in the fuckin mornin, stupid, why you here?”

“I need someone to come with me to Ignacio’s-“

“You’re banned-“

“I got money-pleaseee man? I’ll give ya a kiss-“ Dante shoved at his chest.

“That was one time, man.”

CD snickered, as Dante sighed, “I’m using your money to buy my smokes-“

“Ey-“

“If you’re making me buy ya shit, I’m rewardin myself.”

“Ugh, fine...just hurry up! Hazard might wake up and then my ass will really be gone. She gonna tell ma and everything-“

Dante rolled his eyes, and climbed out of his window, making sure to be quiet, and leave it open a crack so he could get back in.

“If my abuela catches me, she’ll whoop both our asses-“

“Yeah yeah” Cd waved his hand vaguely, before slinging his arm over Dante’s shoulder.

CD handed him the money as they got close to the bodega.

“You remember what I like-“

“Yeah yeah-“ Dante entered the shop as CD stood outside, shoving his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his toes. As he waited, he heard two people approach, laughing, until they neared. He didn’t turn until he felt a tap on his shoulder.

It was Malachai, and his friend Nai. The two were an odd pair; Malachai, tall, and decked in spikes, denim, and leather, and Nai, pale skin contrasted by the gothic getup she had, CD was sure she was a vampire, and he didn’t wanna mess with that. They did throw ragers, though, CD had attended a good handful.

“Romulus” Malachai slung an arm over Nai’s shoulder, and she shrugged him off.

“Malachai, long time no see”

“Whatchu doin out here?”

“What about you? Ain’t this serpent territory?”

“Just passin through...midnight stroll and all.”

At that moment, Dante exited the shop, cig tucked behind his ear, and one hanging loosely from his lips.

“Fuck you doin here, Martinez?” It was too late to deal with The ghoulie.

“Just chatting with my good friend, Romulus, and passing through, isn’t that right, Nai?”

The short girl just sighed.

“This ain’t your territory, last I checked.”

“And what if I say no?” Malachai puffed up his chest, still a good head shorter than the Serpent, a wide grin stretched eerily across his features.

“We’ll be going” Nai pulled at his hand once and he didn’t budge. She sighed again and yanked the teenager, hard, causing him to stumble back, a string of expletives escaping from him.

“Let’s. Go.” She gritted through her teeth, and he grumbled, but obeyed. CD and Dante hid their snickers behind their hands.

As the two were gone from sight, Dante shoved the bag of food and drinks into Cd’s hands.

“Change is in there.” He took a lighter from his pocket and lit the cig in his mouth. Cd reached over and plucked the one from behind the other teen’s ear and placed it between his lips.

“Light?”

“Those are my cigs” Dante pulled it from his lips.

“And it’s my money” cd snatched it back and reached for his friend’s lighter.

“Aht!” Dante smacked his hand away, “you stole my last one-“

“I have it somewhere-“ Cd made another attempt but Dante held it high above his head. Cd huffed, before snatching the cigarette from Dante’s mouth and booking it down the road.

“Asshole!” Dante called after him, but didn’t run; he was too tired for that shit. He pulled out another cig and lit it as he sauntered home.

As he closed the window behind him, he heard a giggle, and saw Fangs sitting on his bed, hands clasped over his mouth in glee.

“Why were you gone?” His baby brother whispered.

“None of ya business. Out-“ Dante hissed.

“I’m not moving” Fangs crossed his arms tightly, “not unless there’s something in it for me”

“Mierde” Dante muttered, “I can move you myself-“

“You swore!”

“I’ll do a lot more than swear-move it!”

“I’ll scream-“

“You wouldn’t-“

Fangs opened his mouth and before any noise could come out, Dante clasped a hand over it, Fangs’ scream muffled.

“Alright you lil shit, what you want?”

Fangs licked his hand and Dante pulled away, wiping it on his brother’s shirt.

“You gotta give me piggybacks all week whenever I say-“

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

Dante narrowed his eyes,“Ok, sure-fine, yeah-now get out-“

“Not until you pinky promise-“

“Fangs-“ his brother held out his pinky, a determined look set on his face. Dante gave him an incredulous look, before sighing, and linking his pinky with his brother’s.

“Pinky promise, now, move.” He picked up fangs and tossed him to his bed. The boy landed on it with an oof.

“Hey!”

“Ya fine, now, go to bed.”

Fangs grumbled, and pulled his cover over himself tightly, facing away from his brother.

Dante’s phone chimed and he picked it up to see Cd with two lit cigs in his mouth, flipping him off.

“Idiot” he mumbled, smirking to himself, before settling in and drifting off to sleep.

( @s-s-southsideserpentine @thecaptainsgingersnap @humangrumpycat @annibunnysworld )

#oc: cd rhodes #oc: dante fogarty #oc: nai akira #riverdale oc #ghoulie oc

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thepinkcar · 5 years

Text

The TC Gift Exchange

words: 2K

note: I started this a year ago as a joke but then after some thought the idea grew on me. Enjoy my weird brain.

Timothée found himself in an abandoned storage lot, sitting inside his aunt’s Toyota Camry while he tried to push down the impulse to scream. The location had been the address on a note he had received prior. The handwriting was unsettlingly familiar and read:

Honorable Timothée,

It wold be an honor to have your company at the location inscribed on December 31st close to midnight. Please bring a gift to exchange during the celebration. We hope to see you there.

In retrospect, showing up at all had been a grave mistake. He probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t desperately craved space from the New Years rager. The holiday season had been a well-desired break from the prying eyes of the public. Unfortunately it also meant an unwavering devotion to every friend and family gathering that could be stuffed into his schedule.

So here he was, risking a shoot out (or more likely, stabbing) on New Years Eve. Just as he had resolved to turn around and leave, there was a knock on his car window. A young man with long curly dark hair waved at him to get out and Timothée sighed, quickly complying. The man’s hair obscured his face, but Timothée felt a chill run down his spine once he spoke.

“You’re Timothée, right?” Timmy nodded slowly. “Is that French, ‘cause that’d be hella tight.”

Timothée froze, finally taking in the thick American accent. “Did you just say ‘hella tight’?” he whispered. The man ignored the question, instead turning towards him and offering a hand. Timothée shook it hesitantly as he tried to find the the gall to look up.

“‘Name’s Kyle. Nice to meet you, Tim-o-tay.” Timmy looked up so fast he was almost surprised not to feel any whiplash. When he saw his own face he screamed.

“What the fuck! What the fuck is happening? Is this some sick joke?” Timothée screeched. Kyle sighed apathetically, pulling a hand-rolled cigarette from his pocket and lighting it. Timothée continued to stare at him bug-eyed, half expecting him to glitch or evaporate from his vision when he woke up from this nightmare.

“Dude, chill. It’s not that weird,” Kyle mumbled, taking another hit. Timothée remained frozen and Kyle sighed again. “It’s too fucking cold for this shit. C’mon, we’re going inside and you better have your gift on you.”

Kyle took a step towards Timmy and Timmy flinched. Aggravated, Kyle grabbed Timmy’s forearm and pulled him inside one of the storage buildings.

The inside of the building was surprisingly cozy with the halls decorated vibrantly for Christmas. Soon they arrived in a room occupied by a Christmas tree, cookies, and an ominous circle of chairs.

“I have him, so we can get this over with and leave!”

“Apathy has and never will be a good look on you, Kyle,” a new voice said. Timothée turned to meet Elio (or him playing Elio) dressed in his winter time outfit. He tried to set aside the creepiness of Elio’s distressed half-smile that he remembered doing during his takes for the end credits. Elio pulled him into an embrace and Timothée suppressed the urge to wriggle.

“It’s a joy to meet you,” he said warmly before pulling back. “You’re more handsome than I anticipated.”

“How do you manage to be so narcissistic and so self-deprecating in the same sentence?” Kyle growled. Elio rolled his eyes before taking off his headphones and handing Kyle his walkman. Kyle bitterly put it on before continuing to listen to whatever was playing.

“What’s going on?” Timmy finally mustered, his throat burning from the screaming.

“We’re calling it the TC Gift Exchange,” Elio stated simply. “Every year, all of the characters you play come together at an undisclosed location and give each other gifts before departing back into our separate universes.”

Timothée stared at Elio in bewilderment before bursting into laughter. Elio watched him in confusion.

“Is everything alright?”

“Of course! It’s just that my dopplegangers have teamed up to make me feel insane. Excellent work, but I think this can stop now.”

“It’s true,” two voices say. Tim and Elio turn to face a Billy from Miss Stevens and Zac from One and Two. They both have a cookie in hand with same amount of bites taken. Tim gulps.

“Each year, the universe of the most successful part that year is where we host,” Billy explains. “Last year we partied in Crema…”

“The year before that we had to do it in the ass crack of no where,” Zac mutters.

“Hey! That spot was next to the road that I sang with Miss Stevens in the car on the way to that theatre conference. And you’re being out of character!”

“Well I’m sorry if I’ve been cranky considering my house was burned to bits!” Zac sneers.

“Boys! You’re literally the same persona set in two different storylines. Find your zen,” Elio says, immediately cringing. “I’m starting to sound like Kyle.”

Timothée shakes his head and moves to take a seat in the circle. The others soon follow suit taking their respective seats that are conveniently in chronological order. Timothée takes the opportunity to take in the others (he’s still deciding whether or not to refer to them as individuals) profiles. Elio sat two spaces to the right of him next Kyle and another doppelgänger that Timothée could only assume to be Daniel from Hot Summer Nights based solely off the fact that he wouldn’t stop rocking back and forth.

Billy and Zac buddy up next to one another beside Daniel, followed by an awkward looking Charlie Cooper and roughed up Jace. Timothée cringed at the familiar backwards cap sitting on Jace’s head next to him. He turned to Elio who had busked himself switching the tape out of his Walkman for Kyle. “This isn’t everyone is it?”

Elio raised a brow but didn’t break his focus. “What do you mean? Timothée bit his lip. He didn’t want to come off arrogant, ironically.

“There’s do roles missing from the circle.”

“Not everyone comes every year. Some are on probation,” Kyle said matter-of-factly. Timothée rolled his eyes. He forgot how much of a douche Kyle was meant to be.

“Some aren’t old enough to come, so we mail them their gifts,” Elio finished.

“But how do you send mail to a completely different universe?”

“You’re asking too many questions. Why is he asking so many questions?” Daniel grumbled, crazed eyes now trained on Timothée. Timothée felt his hands clam up more than they already had.

“Danny, be civil,” Elio warned, giving him a cautious pat on the back. Kyle rolled his eyes.

“We mail them the same way we’re all able to gather with you tonight. Dumbass.” Timmy nodded slowly, surveying the room of doppelgängers. The more he looked at them the less anxious he became about seeing them, which only made him more anxious about how quickly he was acclimating to his Stockholm of a situation.

“What about the ones on—“

“Probation? We try to keep the celebration to main characters only, since we’re not exactly rolling in it, y’know?” Billy quipped, jumping in before Elio had a chance. “Then some people…”

“Nic can’t come because technically he’s a fictionalized real person,” Elio cut in once again, shooting Billy a cool look.

“And he’s a drug addict,” Kyle muttered.

“Recovering addict.”

“What’s the difference? There’s only one guy missing but I don’t really care if he’s here or not. I’m not a big fan of monarchy or oligarchy or government institutions—“

“—or the government?” Timothée cut in knowingly. Kyle smiled.

“See he gets it.”

A crash of metal silences the room’s chatter. After a moment of silence another doppelgänger, this time with a stylish bowl cut appears. Timothée shivers at the memory of his lost locs. Kyle scowls while Elio beams. The others arrange their reactions neatly between the two margins.

“Hello everyone. I hope you can pardon my lateness. I struggled to drag this sorry lot to the TC Exchange,” Hal declared, ceremoniously dragging in Gatsby Welles from the he-who-shall-not-be-named movie about rain. It was Elio’s turn to grimace while Kyle smirked.

“No foul, your highness. Be seated here. As for him…”

“We can’t keep blacklisting him, Elio.”

“His film didn’t even hit theaters! Mine has an Oscar, Kyle. An Oscar!”

“You mean the award you campaign for?”

“I don’t mind.” The room turned to Timothée who had chosen to slump comfortably in his seat. He decided to sit up for the sake of his point. “I chose to play him. He still means a lot to me.”

“He’s just Kyle wearing a blazer!”

“He’s more complex than that, Elio.”

“No one if knows what he’s supposed to be like because it’s impossible to watch the movie!” Elio whined. Timothée moved to respond when a familiar click is heard from across the room. They froze to face Jace holding his signature hand gun.

“You better shut your ass, Elliot! Just because you like dick doesn’t mean you get to make all the rules. The man of the hour said he wants Gatsby to stay, so Gatsby’s staying!”

“While I try not to condone violence, unless my advisors misadvise me, I have to agree with as the kids might say Soulja Boy over there,” Hal added causing Elio to crumple further into his seat. Timothée frowned.

“I understand why you’re upset, Elio. He somehow managed to write a poetry collection during this whole exchange. But I still wanna keep him if we’re gonna be here.”

“I’m gonna name this last one after you, Elio,” Gatsby said softly. Elio gives a small smile.

“Okay.”

“Thank god,” Kyle sighed, “Can we get our gifts now? I don’t want to ring in the new decade with you lot.”

❄️❄️❄️

After an hour of mingling with his counterparts, the goodbyes tugged a bit on Timothée’s heart strings. He learned so much about everyone as far as the group dynamic went. He learned Kyle and Elio were actually quite close considering how much they seemed to rag on each other.

“You should have seen him the first year. An antisocial mess,” Elio reminisced fondly.

“That’s before a realized you have taste. I wouldn’t have shown up again if you hadn’t,” Kyle admitted begrudgingly.

Timothée also learned that while most of his characters felt similar, after two minutes of conversation the differences became glaring. Except for Billy and Zac. They were essentially the same person.

“I hope one day I’ll get a box of serotonin for Christmas,” Billy joked. Zac gasped.

“I asked for a bottle of Serotonin for my birthday!”

As Timothée walked back to his Aunt’s Camry with Hal, he couldn’t fight off the smile that kept creeping onto his face. Hal side-eyed him in solent satisfaction.

“Will we be seeing you again next year? I’m sure Elio wouldn’t mind providing free transit to space.”

“I’ll have to think about it,” Timothée chuckled. “This was…nice. Like really nice. It makes me kinda glad to be an actor. In an unnerving way.”

“I couldn’t have asked for better casting. Next year should be nice since Laurie will be able to come. I think him and Elio will get on nicely, then maybe…”

“Then maybe he’ll stop flirting with you? Still not sure how I feel about that,” Timothée mumbled with a shudder. The man really needs his Oliver.

“Don’t worry yourself about it. I only have one thing to request of you good sir.” Timothée raised a brow, trying not to fidget under Hal’s intense gaze. “Please, consider doing a comedic role in the future. We could use someone to shake things up around here.” The two of them smiled before bursting into fits of laughter.

“You’ve got it King!”

“No, you’re the king today. Drive safe and we’ll see you next time.” Hal walked back into the abandoned hall while Timothée sat down in his car and prepared to drive back. Maybe in the morning he’d wake up from a highly elaborate dream, but for now he could hang on to the feeling of gratitude and appreciation.

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cakesunflower · 6 years

Text

Out of Nowhere [Neighbor!Luke] One Shot

A/N: this is 12k of shit i loved writing. it was so much fun. grab a snack or something and happy reading babies!!!

dedicated to my (fellow) luke hoes @glitterprincelu & @softforcal

“This can’t be happening.”

An exasperated groan escaped Stacey’s throat when she read the text message from the building superintendent, expression falling helplessly as she banged the back of her head against the door behind her. The sounds were mostly drowned out by the thunderstorm raging outside—though how could Stacey forget that it was raining when she was soaked to the bone? The fact that she seemingly didn’t have her apartment keys on her, along with the fact that the super was out of town for the weekend, was only serving to make things worse.

So she stood in the hallway of her floor, cold and freezing after being caught in the November rain. It didn’t help that her car was at the shop after a fender bender, and that the roads were already flooding dangerously thanks to the storm, so she couldn’t exactly go anywhere. Her goddamn front door was separating her from changing into some comfortable clothes and the leftovers in her fridge, and the aggravated frustration was already, embarrassingly, springing hot tears into her eyes.

Stacey sank to the floor, face scrunching in defeated annoyance as her clothes stuck to her, tight and uncomfortable. She didn’t know what to do; there was no way in hell she could leave the building, not with the storm going on outside, and she obviously couldn’t get into her apartment. The hallway was cold, goosebumps raising on her damp skin and Stacey couldn’t help but close her eyes, bringing her knees up to her chest, as she began lightly thumping her head against the door.

Not hard enough to hurt, but it was just a small way of getting her frustrations out. How could she be so irresponsible and careless? If her parents found out she’d stupidly forgotten her keys, a feat she’s had since she was a teenager, they’d give her an earful. Which, Stacey knew, she deserved at this point.

She only got a few thumps in, though the back of her head was already beginning to hurt, when she heard the sound of a door clicking open followed by a familiar, annoyed voice snapping, “Fucking hell, what are you doing?”

Stacey’s closed eyes squeezed tighter, eyebrows furrowing at the sound of her neighbor’s voice. Out of everyone living in this hall, why did he have to open the door? “Throwing a rager. What does it look like?” she responded, the practiced boredom seeping into her voice which she always spoke to him in.

“A sopping heap of a mess, ‘s what this looks like.” Stacey’s jaw clenched, blue eyes snapping open to meet a pair lighter than hers. Her neighbor, Luke Hemmings, leaned against his doorframe, staring down at Stacey with an unimpressed look on his face. She hated that he looked so good standing there, dressed in black sweatpants and a hoodie, golden curls wild as usual. It was a blow to her own ego, sitting on the floor with her black hair, clothes and skin completely drenched. A sopping heap of a mess indeed.

Stacey let out an annoyed grunt, giving a shake of her head as she looked away from Luke and waved a hand at him. “Can you just—just go inside? Nothing to see here.��

Of course, Luke was never one to do anything Stacey said, instead tilting his head with a furrow of his eyebrows. “What’re you doin’ out here?” he repeated with a bemused scoff.

She pursed her lips, straightening her head as she looked up at the ceiling. Luke’s gaze was burning into her profile, and the last thing Stacey wanted to do was let him know of her stupidity. The two of them weren’t the friendliest of neighbors; Luke was always playing loud music in his apartment, and since one of the residents across the hall was an actual resident in a hospital and rarely home, another an old woman hard of hearing, and the apartment on the other side of Luke’s was vacant, Stacey was the only one truly being bothered by it.

He brushed her off when she tried to politely get him to quiet down the first few times, put on a charming smile and said he would before he turned the volume up again. There were also times where he’d steal her parking spot so his friends could park in his. He acted like a child, more often than not, and tried to push Stacey’s buttons with unnecessary remarks if they happened to see each other in the hallway or elevators. They’ve only been living next to each other for a year, but the irritation he sparks in her made it feel like a lifetime.

Stacey let out a slow breath through her nose, staring up at the white ceiling as she found herself admitting, “Locked out. The super isn’t here so—”

“So you’re gonna just sit on the floor and wait for Otto to come back?” Luke snorted, referring to the super while his voice, losing most of its Australian accent, was coated with contempt.

She shot him a look. “Don’t exactly have another choi—”

Luke rolled his blue eyes, pushing himself off the doorframe as he grunted, “Come inside.” When Stacey gaped at him, the impatience bled through the surface as Luke shrugged his broad shoulders at her. “Or just sit in the hallway like a crazy person. Your choice.”

But Stacey narrowed her blue eyes at him, unsure where his offer was coming from because it was completely unexpected and out of character for him. “You’re being nice,” she stated factually, face screwing up in skepticism. “You’re never nice.”

He crossed his arms over his chest, not looking affronted but definitely running low on patience. “That’s not true,” he defended. “’M just being a decent person.”

Stacey almost laughed, still looking up at him. “You’re not that, either.”

Luke’s lips thinned, the muscles in his jaw jumping as his eyes narrowed into a glare. Clearly he wasn’t in the mood for her insults. “Are you fucking coming in or are you gonna keep sitting out here trying to give yourself a concussion with all that banging you were doing? You got thirty seconds to decide.”

With that, he turned and entered his apartment, the door left wide open and Stacey staring after him with wide, offended eyes. He was basically bossing her around—who the hell did he think he was?

She stewed in her annoyance for a moment before realizing that Luke’s offer was, despite everything, nice. Sitting on a couch sounded a whole lot better than getting her ass numb on the hard floors she was currently sitting on, but the fact that it was Luke’s apartment was making her hesitate. Her interactions with the blonde were never of the pleasant variety, managing to drive her up the wall within seconds, and she doubted being in his apartment would be any different.

Still, it beat pathetically sitting in front of her locked apartment. At this point, Stacey lamented that her pride wasn’t doing her any good.

So with a defeated huff, Stacey pushed herself up from the ground with the strap of her bag in hand. Warily, she approached Luke’s apartment, pursing her lips as she awkwardly lingered in the doorway, peering in. Was he seriously inviting her in? Honestly, Stacey figured he’d just leave her in the hallway. The offer was surprising and made Stacey’s eyebrows draw together in confusion.

She felt strange, no doubt about it, shuffling on her feet in his doorway as she peered inside. The layout was the same as hers, opening up into the living room with the kitchen on the left and the door to the small balcony on the other side. Stacey also noticed a beautiful black piano behind the couch near the balcony door, along with a guitar sitting in the corner. She wasn’t entirely surprised that he was musical, given that he was always blaring—truthfully good—music, but the fact that he actually played instruments was. . . Interesting.

Luke stepped into view, looking at her boredly. “Are you coming in or what?”

Stacey shot him a mildly irritated look before stepping inside, shutting the door behind her. His apartment was definitely warmer than the hallway, but the sudden change in temperature had a visible shiver quivering through her damp body. Luke caught it, rolling his eyes in exasperation as he grumbled, “Hold on.”

He walked down the hallway, leaving Stacey standing still by the door as the scent of coconuts and vanilla greeted her faintly, along with something else indecipherable. It smelled good.

While waiting for Luke, Stacey let her eyes take in her surroundings, letting out a scoff when she looked to her right and caught sight of a life size Storm Trooper statue in the corner on the other side of the TV. she wasn’t sure if she found his possession of it ridiculous and dumb or if she was jealous of the fact. She loved Star Wars.

Then Stacey’s eyes landed on a lavender, fluffy dog bed on the floor next to the couch, deepening her frown. Pets were allowed in the building, she knew, but she never knew Luke had one. At least, she never saw or heard one.

And as if her silent musings were some kind of summon, Stacey heard gentle clattering sounding from the hallway, widened eyes landing on what seemed to be a bulldog terrier trotting towards her casually. Instantly, Stacey’s heart swelled at the sight of the adorable dog, white and brown and completely precious, as it stopped in front of her to sniff at Stacey.

“Hi,” she cooed quietly, bending to gently rub at the dog’s head, grin widening as it leaned into her touch. “Oh, you’re so sweet. Hi, what’s your name?” she hummed, her other hand finding the collar, seeing a cute heart shaped pendant on it that had Petunia engraved on it. Oh, God, that was so fucking cute. “Hi, Petunia. Aren’t you adorable?” Stacey smiled, both of her hands rubbing at the complying dog, already seemingly fond of the black haired girl. She was the softest thing ever.

“Here.” Stacey’s smile dropped when she looked up to see Luke returning to the living room, eyes darting to what he was holding; a towel in one hand and a sweatshirt in another. He shrugged his broad shoulders at the way she quirked an eyebrow. “Don’t have any pants that’ll fit you. This is the best you’ll get.”

He wasn’t apologetic about it, just factual, and Stacey pursed her lips. He was offering her clothes now? If Luke kept up the friendly gestures she’d soon grow faint with confusion. Still, she walked towards him and grabbed the two things, mustering a closed, tight lipped smile which Luke didn’t return. “Bathroom’s down the hall to the left.”

Stacey was about to tell him that she didn’t need directions, seeing as their apartment plans were the same, but Luke was already turning away. Despite his seemingly friendly offers, he still had that cold air around him that was always present around her, and Stacey childishly stuck her tongue out at his broad back before trudging to the bathroom.

Much to her surprise, the bathroom was quite clean; hand towels hung, his toiletries all upright and not strewn about carelessly. Stacey quickly changed out of her clothes, letting out a sigh of relief as she peeled off her wet jeans and shirt. She figured that she could just make a trip downstairs and toss them in the dryer, eyeing the sweatshirt Luke had given her as she dried herself.

Stacey chewed on her lower lip; there was no way she was taking off her underwear in Luke’s apartment, despite it being slightly damp. Picking up the sweatshirt, Stacey saw that it was, unsurprisingly, huge. Definitely would drape over her like a dress. And as she pulled it on over her bra and panties, Stacey swallowed inaudibly as that previous scents she had been smelling engulfed her altogether, a mixture of aromas that made up Luke that she wasn’t at all repulsed by. It smelled too good, too intoxicating, and it made her clench her jaw tightly.

She couldn’t see her entire figure in the bathroom mirror, but from what she could see, she noticed the way the broad shoulders of the sweatshirt ridiculously hung off her much smaller ones, the sleeves going way past her hands which made her shove them up to her elbows. Looking down, the sweatshirt ended just a smidge above her knees, and Stacey wiggled her auburn painted toes in thought. For some reason, walking out of the bathroom in just Luke’s sweatshirt, with nothing but underwear on underneath, had her skin flushing hotly. She’s worn less around other guys, but it just felt different with Luke.

He was her annoying, yet stupidly hot, neighbor whom she’s never had one decent conversation with. It was crazy enough that she was in his apartment, but frolicking around in his sweatshirt? She may be dramatic, but this was too much too fast.

With a breath, Stacey decided that she would just quickly run downstairs to the basement and toss her clothes in the dryer so she could put them on later. Yeah, that would work.

Except, right when she was about to pick up her damp clothes from where they were hanging on the shower curtain rod, the single bathroom light went out and a startled scream escaped Stacey, heart jumping in her throat as she was enveloped in complete darkness. “Oh, my God,” Stacey sounded to herself, reaching for her bag that was resting atop the closed toilet before blindly reaching for the doorknob, throwing the door open and stumbling out into the dark hallway.

Her racing heart was calming down after that surprise, looking around as she slowly made her way down the hall, her now bare feet padding against the hardwood floor. The entire apartment was dark, light only coming through as she emerged into the living room where the evening sky let light pour in from the glass balcony door, thanks to the streetlamps below that were still on amidst the rain.

“Storm cut out the power, I think.”

Stacey gasped, suddenly remembering she wasn’t alone at the sound of the slightly accented voice, head snapping to the right to see Luke behind the counter that separated the kitchen and living room. Ignoring that he was lighting up a scented candle, Stacey snapped, “Don’t scare me like that.”

She caught the way Luke rolled her eyes at her dramatics, his features being shadowed by the glow of the candle; cheekbones sharp, facial hair appearing golden, and light blue eyes almost translucent against the flames. It wasn’t too dark in the apartment; the candle sort of helped, though most of the light came from the windows from the street below, along with the occasional flash of lightning followed by low growls of thunder.

“Are you gonna be this jumpy all night?” Luke scoffed in irritation, eyebrows drawing together as he walked around the counter. “Could hear your damn scream in the bathroom over the thunder.”

Stacey scowled. “Excuse me for getting startled when the light went out.”

At the reminder that there was no electricity, Stacey felt her shoulders deflate. No electricity meant she wouldn’t be able to run the dryer, which meant she would be stuck in Luke’s sweatshirt until the power came back on. She was also well aware that she would probably have to spend the night in his apartment, seeing as the storm showed no signs of letting up, remembering how the weather app on her phone had said it would be raining well into tomorrow afternoon. Stacey wanted to groan; how was she supposed to survive a night with him?

As Luke walked past her to get to the couch, he glanced at Stacey, blue eyes giving her a once over. She wondered if it was a trick of the candle when she noticed the brief tightness in his jaw until it was replaced when his lips curled slightly in a ghost of a smirk. “Cute look.”

She involuntarily crossed her ankles, as if that would do anything, as the glare remained on her face. “Piss off.”

He let out a snort of a laugh, walking towards the couch before he settled down. Stacey heard the tinkle of a collar, figuring Petunia was settled somewhere by him where she couldn’t see. She stood awkwardly once more, not entirely sure of what to do since she did not at all feel like she belonged in this apartment, wishing she was in her own next door.

“Do you need an invitation for everything?” She heard Luke’s annoyed voice call from the couch, turning his head to look at her over the couch. “You can sit.”

She hated that she really did feel like she needed an invitation for everything in his apartment. They weren’t friends, she’s never been in here before. Their interactions, up until this point, had been aggrieved and bantering remarks in the hallways and elevator. They were both out of their element here, but it seemed as though Luke wasn’t having as much trouble as Stacey in trying to adjust. Though, he did seem like his regular jerk self.

Crossing her arms over her chest, Stacey walked towards the couch and sat down on the other end, far away from Luke, catching sight of Petunia settled comfortably in her bed. It was quiet between them, as expected, and Stacey took the moment to pull out her phone from her bag. It was going to die soon, she realized with a bite of her cheek, so she took the opportunity to text her mom to let her know of the situation. Once her mom told her to stay safe, Stacey turned off her phone, wanting to save what little battery it had left.

The awkwardness was thick in the air, the room brightening with a flash of lightning every so often, and Stacey tapped her fingers on her lap as a way of distracting herself, occasionally twisting the thin rings she wore. Neither she nor Luke were going to try and make conversation, and Stacey wondered how long they’d just sit around before one of them decided to go to bed just to avoid the other.

Suddenly Luke stood up. “You hungry?” Stacey looked up at him and Luke shrugged his broad shoulders. “Can’t heat up anythin’ so I can make us, like, pancakes or some shit.”

Stacey raised her eyebrows, shooting him a flat look as she asked, “Didn’t you get the fire department called on you two weeks ago because you were trying to cook something?”

Much to her amusement, Luke clenched his jaw at her words, not at all appreciative of the incident that occurred when he tried to make pasta and ended up burning it. Luke presses the tip of his tongue on the inside of his cheek, looking away from her as Stacey smirked. She was hungry too, so she stood up and said, “I’ll make it. At least it’ll be edible that way.”

Luke scoffed behind her as she walked into the kitchen. The glow of the candle provided decent enough light, the scent of apples warm and welcoming as she turned to look at Luke, who was still standing by the couch. She shot him an expectant, yet impatient, look with a raise of her brows. “Hello? You gonna tell me where you keep your shit or am I gonna have to tear your kitchen apart?”

Luke’s lips thinned as he made his way over. “Anyone ever told you you’ve got a bad attitude?”

Stacey scoffed, watching as Luke easily pulled out a box of pancake mix from a cabinet way out of her reach before pulling out a bowl to mix in and and sliding everything over the marble countertop to her. “Only you. Just now,” she responded casually, not at all insulted by his words. Smirking, she added, “I’m a pleasure to be around.”

Luke silently brought out everything for her and leaned his hips against the counter next to her, arms crossing over his chest as he watched her starting to mix. “Sounds highly doubtful,” Luke snorted, unconvinced.

“Let me rephrase,” Stacey said, not even bothering to look at Luke as she mixed. “I’m a pleasure to be around those I actually like.”

Luke rolled his eyes, not entirely insulted at the confirmation that she didn’t like him. It wasn’t a secret; they weren’t the friendliest of neighbors. Tilting his head ever so slightly, Luke hummed, “I think you’d like me if you got to know me.”

The stove on with a frying pan ready, Stacey poured some of the batter on it before her blue eyes met Luke’s. “When did I give you the idea I wanted to get to know you?” She noticed the tightness in Luke’s face when she said that, blue eyes looking dark in the lack of light.

Luke’s tongue ran along the inside of his lower lip, chin lifting as he remarked, “Harsh words to someone who’s lettin’ you stay in his apartment. At least I’m not stupid enough to get locked out.”

Stacey’s lips tightened, eyebrows narrowing as she scowled at Luke. Indignation ran through her veins, burning like the candle providing a glow against Luke’s skin and hair. Him calling her stupid wasn’t making her want to get know him any more. “You’re a dick.”

His lips twitched ever so slightly into an arrogant smirk, hinting at a shadow of a dimple beneath his scruff. “And you’re a bitch.” He shrugged, smirk turning into a smile most people would deem charming, but Stacey could see the contempt underneath it. Still, it unnerved her that it kind of made her heart flip. Then, Luke leaned towards her, arms still crossed as Stacey stood her ground, not trying to give away how her heart began racing at the proximity. His smirk widened. “And you’re burning the pancake.”

At that, Stacey’s eyes widened as her head snapped towards the stove, cursing under her breath when she saw the light stream of smoke rising. She quickly used the spatula to flip the pancake, sighing when she saw the other side nearly charred and deciding it wasn’t worth it as she dropped it on one of the plates to get rid of later.

She clenched her jaw, an annoyed flush taking over her face especially when she heard Luke’s low chuckle at her expense. She didn’t know what the fuck he was laughing at, given that it was his dinner too. Still, the fact that she’d poked fun at him for burning food and now she did the same was pretty embarrassing, and being so in front of Luke wasn’t something she was fond of.

Things were silent between them as she made the rest of the pancakes, much to her relief. Stacey finished and put some on either plate, ridding of the burnt one. She picked up a plate and handed it to Luke, who took it with a quiet grunt of, “Thank you.”

You could at least sound grateful. Stacey rolled her eyes as the room flashed with lightning, pursing her lips when the thunder that followed roared through the sky. Luke pulled out the syrup before opening the fridge and pulling out a can of whipped cream, Stacey’s eyes lighting up at the sight of it. She followed Luke to the counter that looked into the living room, sitting on the stool next to him, putting aside the fact that she couldn’t stand him so she could focus on her food. Stacey hadn’t realized how hungry she was until she gazed at the plateful of pancakes. Eat first, continue her irritation with Luke later.

*****

Luke was about to break his teeth in the tunes of the fork.

They’d only been sitting for a couple of minutes, eating their pancakes, but Luke wouldn’t be surprised if Stacey was purposefully trying to rile him up. Except when she riled him up, she did so by snappy remarks and jabs. Not by licking off whipped cream from her fork and inadvertently driving Luke wild. And, shit, he hated that this was happening in the first place.

Maybe there was a thin line between love and hate. Except here, it would be more appropriate to refer to it as lust and aggravation. Or something. Luke couldn’t seem to think straight, not when Stacey was just sitting there with her legs dangling, exposed thanks to his sweatshirt that was adorning her body.

There had been a moment, fleeting yet enough to send a shock through his body, when he caught sight of her in it the first time. It hung off of her smaller frame and Stacey was practically swimming in it, her damp hair falling into tendrils framing her face. Looking at her wearing something of his had his stomach clenching tightly, and if he thought about the fact that she was definitely only wearing underwear under it? Luke would truly have trouble breathing.

Admittedly, Stacey was a vision to be seen. She got on his nerves and he wasn’t innocent in not trying to annoy her, either, but her being beautiful had never been up for debate. Too bad the two of them could barely have a civil conversation.

As Luke finished off his pancakes, he glanced at Stacey, wishing instantly that he hadn’t. The flame of the candle danced across her face, highlighting her features of sharp cheekbones and long lashes. But what had Luke’s grip on his fork tightening was the fact that Stacey, unaware of Luke’s subtle gaze on her, scooped up the last bit of whipped cream remaining on her plate with her finger, before pushing that same finger right into her mouth.

Her cheeks hollowed as she no doubt licked her finger clean, and Luke felt fire running through his veins as he pushed his stool out and got up, inhaling sharply her quietly and hoping the clatter of his plate in the sink masked the sound. What in the fucking hell. It was like suddenly his body had no connotation of having self control around her, a feat he wasn’t at all used to. Most of the time, he’d see Stacey for a few minutes around the building and allow himself to dwell on how attractive she was, often thinking about his gorgeous neighbor. But that was it. Nothing ever came from it. And now she was in his apartment, looking like that and sucking on her fucking finger, and Luke was about to lose his mind.

Maybe he should call it a night. That way he could just fall asleep and forget that it wasn’t just him and Petunia in his dark apartment while a storm raged. Of course, he’d feel compelled to take the couch. He and Stacey may not get along but his mother raised him with some manners. Although, if she were to find out how he spoke to Stacey, he’d probably never hear the end of it.

But instead, as he moved away from the sink so Stacey could put her own plate, Luke found himself impulsively asking, “D’you wanna play a game?”

Stacey’s gaze snapped to him and Luke tried to keep his expression neutral, not trying to give away how dumb he instantly felt for asking that. She stared at him with raised eyebrows, probably wondering where the hell that question came from and why he asked. “A game?”

Instead of retracting his question, Luke nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got regular cards, monopoly cards, UNO—”

“Monopoly.” Stacey surprised both herself and Luke with her quick answer, unable to hide the sudden excitement in her tone.

Luke blinked at her for a moment before walking out of the kitchen, heading to his room where the cards were in his bedside drawer. He brought out the two other packs too, just in case they decided to play something else, shaking his head to himself as he returned to the living room. He wanted to laugh that he was about to play some games with Stacey, of all people.

She was settled on the living room floor already, her back against the couch and the candle from the kitchen resting on the coffee table for more light. Luke settled in front of her, crossing his long legs as he watched her watch the rain, water pelting the glass consistently at a quick pace, the only sound in the room.

As Luke pulled the Monopoly cards out of the pack, he began shuffling them as he said, “I’m assuming you know how to play?”

Stacey nodded, having played it before with her cousins, eyes involuntarily going to Luke’s hands. She watched as his ring clad fingers shuffled the cards, caught sight of chipped black nail polish as a subtle frown marred her eyebrows. He wore nail polish? She straightened her back, the acknowledgment of that small fact stupidly drying her throat as she challenged, “Get ready to have your ass kicked.”

Luke snorted, unfazed, as he dealt the cards. “Hope you’ve got the bite to match your bark,” he retorted, blue eyes flickering to meet hers daringly. Stacey merely smirked.

As Luke looked through his cards, his gaze wandered over to Stacey, dropping to how she was sitting with her legs crossed. The sweatshirt pooled around her, covering up most of her legs and Luke felt only a small pressure of relief at not having to stare at the exposed skin. Except she looked fucking adorable and Luke’s muscles were tightening again.

They began playing, placing down cards appropriately and picking up two every turn. At one point, both of them had some properties down as well as money cards, and Luke only needed one more card to have three complete sets and win the game.

After he went his turn, Stacey went to pick up two cards when she looked at Luke’s hand, giving him a look. “You definitely have more than seven cards. Get rid of some.”

He rolled his eyes at her demanding tone, not at all surprised she’d be so bossy as he got rid of some cards he didn’t need. “Happy?”

Stacey smiled, wide and sweet and fake. “Yes,” she said, picking up two cards. She looked at them and then what she had put down, before her grin widened and she put down a rent card. “Pay me rent for this.” She pointed to a property set that had a house on it as well, smirking as she told him, “Eighteen million.”

Luke let out a sharp, irritated breath, blue eyes narrowing into a glare as he looked at his money cards. He didn’t have enough, which meant he would have to pay with some property cards, which meant he’d need more to win the game. The competitive side of him glowered, cursing a smug Stacey our as he begrudgingly threw the appropriate amount to her. “Asshole,” Luke grunted under his breath.

Stacey let out a laugh and Luke hated that through his annoyance, his mind was still acknowledging how adorable the sound was. He swallowed, watching as she giddily placed the cards appropriately, and Luke was somewhat relieved none of the properties he gave would complete any of her sets.

Now that it was his turn, Luke picked up two cards, eyebrows shooting up when he caught sight of the deal breaker card he came to procure. A smug smirk of his own curled at his lips and Stacey caught it, her eyes narrowing suspiciously only to widen when Luke placed the card down. “No,” she denied. Luke didn’t listen, hand reaching to grab her complete property that had a house on it. Stacey’s shoulders dropped in defeat, but the scowl was on her face as she practically whined, “Come the fuck on, no.”

Luke placed the cards in front of him, shoulders square and proud as he stated smugly, “I win.”

Stacey narrowed her eyes, and Luke found himself utterly amused at the drop of her shoulders and pout of her lips. Clearly she didn’t like losing, especially to him, and he reveled in his win. Dropping the rest of her cards, Stacey demanded, “Again.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, unable to stop himself from daring, “Think you can take another loss?”

She shot him another fake smile filled with annoyed contempt. “Just fucking shuffle,” she said, running her fingers through her now drying hair.

They began another round and during one of her turns, Stacey’s gaze flickered over Luke’s shoulder before looking back down at her cards. “So what’s the deal with the Storm Trooper?” she casually asked, although unsure why she was trying to make conversation with him. Maybe to break the silence i which they were playing in, save the sound of the rain. “You actually spent money on that thing?”

Luke tensed, eyes remaining on his cards as his jaw tightened. It was one thing to have the statue in his living room, it was another to actually talk about it. To acknowledge its existence rather than look past it every time he was in his living room. He had half a mind to tell Stacey it was none of her business, but instead ended up admitting, “My ex got it for me. Haven’t gotten rid of it yet.”

Stacey looked at him as she got rid of a few extra cards. Luke wasn’t looking at her, gaze purposefully remaining on his cards, but she noticed the way his lips were pressed together tightly and the small furrow in his eyebrows. “Bad break up?”

Luke started his turn, frown deepening as he thought of the relationship that practically tore him apart. It’s been over for a while now, but sometimes just thinking about the shit he had to go through prompted a twisting pain in his chest that nearly rendered him breathless. “She was a bitch,” he found himself saying, tone cold and firm. He loved her at the time—or maybe thought he had—but now he was well aware she was nothing but toxic.

Stacey’s eyebrows shot up, twisting her lips to the side as she mused, “As a woman I feel the need to yell at you for calling her a bitch.”

Luke’s eyes were sharp as they met Stacey’s, but the blonde’s were icy, unforgiving that had Stacey swallowing inaudibly. That was a glare she’d never been at the receiving end of, despite their several arguments, unsure if the dark look on his face was because of her words or the lack of light in the room. “She was manipulative and thought cheating was a fun pastime.”

Her lips parted at that. Stacey felt a swell of sympathy for the guy in front of her, pulling her lower lip into her mouth. Her and Luke may not have any love for one another, just two neighbors who glared at bickered, but he didn’t deserve to be cheated on. No one should ever feel the insecurity and betrayal that came with being cheated on, left without their partner and left wondering if they were ever going to be good enough. Stacey was fortunate enough to never experience that, but she always felt for any of her friends who had to go through something as shitty as that. And she felt for Luke. He didn’t deserve to be deceived by someone he loved.

So Stacey nodded, pursing her lips. “Yeah. She’s a bitch.” Luke’s adam’s apple worked, playing his turn, and Stacey licked her lips before adding softly, “I’m sorry.” She didn’t know why she was apologizing, but the words were spilling past her lips before she could stop them.

The tone she spoke in was a lot more tender than Luke had ever heard—especially towards him. Luke looked at her, finally, throat working when he saw the sincerity on her face he wasn’t used to; in the soft glow of her eyes and naturally pouty lips pressed sympathetically. He didn’t need anyone’s pity, but the way Stacey was looking at him was different. So much more kind. A good different.

He hoped she saw the appreciation in his eyes, lips twitching into a small smile before it transformed into a smirk. Straightening his broad shoulders, Luke mused, “Don’t go all soft on me now. Or I’ll just kick your ass again.”

Just like that, the determined expression returned to Stacey’s face, eyes narrowing just as a flash of lightning brightened the room. “In your dreams.”

They continued the game, both of them skillfully putting down properties and money and getting the other to pay. Until Stacey slapped down a deal breaker card and triumphantly demanded, “Give it up, Hemmings!”

If she took his complete property, Stacey would win and Luke was not okay with that. “Fuck, no,” he returned, scooping up the three property cards and pulling them away from Stacey’s greedy fingers.

Stacey’s jaw dropped, staring at him in incredulous amusement. “Give me the cards!” she laughed out in surprise, wondering if he was actually going to be childish about this. Luke pressed the cards to his chest and Stacey, without thinking, sat on her knees and tried to pry his large hand away from his chest to get to the cards hiding under, leaning over the cards on the floor and towards the Australian. “Stop being a sore loser.”

Luke gave a stubborn shake of his head, ignoring the way her fingers scorched his skin as she tried to pull his hand from his chest to get the cards. He wasn’t annoying her with his antics, he realized when he saw her eyes and the smiling curling at her lips. She was amused. His curls tickled his face as he pulled back from her. “No, I refuse!” he yelled, unable to stop the high pitched giggle that escaped him.

The sound was completely unexpected, the utter adorability of it taking Stacey by surprise as she paused for the briefest of moments during their struggle to gape at him.

God knows what happened, but suddenly Stacey was losing her balance, body tipping forward. Her blue eyes widened, both of her hands on Luke’s on his chest and unable to pull them away quickly enough to stop herself. The unanticipated loss of balance had Stacey falling right into Luke, who hadn’t expected the sudden weight of her body and wasn’t able to accomodate for it fast enough.

A startled gasp escaped her, mixed with the sound of Luke grunting, and suddenly he was being pushed to the floor on his back and Stacey was tumbling right on top of him. She landed on his broad chest, eyes squeezing shut and hands instinctively coming to rest on his shoulders as her chest collided with his, a breathless, “Oof” sounding as her face was accidentally tucked into the crook of his neck during the fall.

The coconut, vanilla-like scent that had engulfed her in this apartment and sweatshirt was so much more intense, the pleasant smell Luke naturally seemed to carry intoxicating her too quickly.

When the shock of the situation began wearing off, Stacey’s eyes opened she gathered her wits, coming to her senses as she realized the position she was in: on top of Luke, legs between his and suddenly registering the pressure of his hands on her hips over the thick material of the sweatshirt. Pushing herself up, fingers digging into Luke’s shoulders through his own sweatshirt, Stacey looked down at him, her hair falling down providing a curtain on either sides of her face, almost like giving her tunnel vision as she looked at Luke. Laying down beneath her, blue eyes widened with surprise and golden curls almost like a freaking halo around him.

They were so close, closer than they’d ever been, only a few inches between them as Stacey hovered over him. Their noses were close, would brush together with their breaths, and suddenly Stacey’s throat was drying and scratching with every breath she took. She looked at Luke, saw the way his light eyes were flickering between hers, the candle constantly shadowing their faces as Stacey, just for a moment, admired his strong cheekbones and how his lower lip was slightly fuller than his upper one. She noticed how his own eyes flickered to her mouth, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing as her; if he was wondering what it’d be like to close the distance between their lips altogether.

As soon as that thought crossed her mind, it was like reality arrived with a slap to her face and Stacey was scrambling back and away from Luke. She carelessly to her feet with a sharp breath, standing over Luke with a pounding heart, watching as he stared at her silently while pushing himself to his elbows to sit up absently. Luke raised his hand, ring clad fingers combing through his blonde curls to push them back as he stared at her, open mouthed and just as shaken as Stacey over what just happened.

Swallowing the lump blocking her throat, Stacey muttered, “I’m gonna, um, go to the bathroom.”

She swiveled on her heel, feeling Luke’s gaze burn through the sweatshirt and onto her back as she walked quickly to the bathroom, only taking in the deep breath her lungs were craving for when she locked the bathroom door behind her. Stacey pressed her hand to her forehead, fingers tangling in her dark hair as looked up at the ceiling while her other hand grasped her phone, the flashlight on. What the hell just happened?

Maybe she was overreacting.

It was an accident, wasn’t it? She lost her balance and tumbled onto him, nothing more, nothing less. Only. . . It felt like more.

Stacey had felt his tight grip on her hips and had welcomed his increasingly familiar scent, had seen the look in his eyes that were no longer their usual crystal blue, but darker as he gazed up at her. But that could’ve been a trick of the candle light, right? Maybe it had nothing to do with her and she was just over analyzing a thirty second situation.

Placing her phone on the sink, the flashlight providing a bright light, Stacey looked at her shadowed reflection. Her face felt warm and she’d probably be able to see it flushed if she moved the flashlight a certain way. How the hell had she managed to go from being annoyed with Luke, as usual, to feel some type of fucking way that was completely taking her breath away?

As an attempt to cool herself down, Stacey splashed her face with some cold water, letting out a breath and patting her face with the towel. She had to go back out there and show her face, despite feeling apprehensive and still embarrassed about it.

It wasn’t until Stacey opened the door, killing the flashlight, when she heard the melodic sound of the piano being played along with the unexpected sound of singing. Luke’s singing.

Stacey’s eyebrows raised as she slowly, quietly made her way down the hallway, lips parting as she listened to the smooth, beautiful voice of Luke singing a song she didn’t at all recognize. Turning the corner, Stacey looked at Luke’s back as he played the piano, his strong voice singing, “. . . Now I wish we’d never met, ’cause you’re too hard to forget. . .”

Pulling her lips into her mouth, Stacey stood a few feet behind him with her arms crossed, listening in silent awe as his voice floated through the dark apartment. The sound of the rain outside only added onto the gentle atmosphere that had suddenly taken place, and Stacey just watched and listened to Luke play and sing lyrics to a song she’s never heard before, wondering if they were words that he had written himself.

It was a break-up song, that much was clear, and a heartbreaking one at that, and Stacey’s gaze flickered to the Storm Trooper statue in the corner, wondering if this was a song Luke had written about that specific ex. She wasn’t sure if he still felt that way, but judging by the woeful lyrics of this song, Luke had been hurting.

Stacey felt for him. She really did, finding herself getting pissed off at a woman she’s never met because she hurt the man she’s always been annoyed with up until this day. And the way Luke sang, strong voice carrying the notes and clearly depicting the very emotions he probably felt writing them had Stacey, for the first time, staring at him in admiration.

When he finished, the last note dying off, Stacey blinked herself out of her wonderment before gently asking, “Did you write that?”

To his credit, Luke didn’t appear as startled, hands on the piano bench he sat on as he turned ever so slightly, blue eyes meeting hers. Luke gazed at her, expression soft just like the light of the candle, nodding once as he answered, “Uh, yeah. I did.”

Stacey nodded slightly, arms still over her chest as she shuffled her feet, rubbing her left ankle with her right foot. Her voice was quiet, afraid of breaking the silence that followed after his song. “It was beautiful.”

Luke chewed his lower lip, catching the honesty in her voice as he glanced away for a moment. “Thank you.” He wasn’t entirely sure why he started playing that song, something he’d written just weeks after his relationship ended, but it just happened. It wasn’t the happiest of songs he’s written, but they’d been talking about that damned Storm Trooper statue, and then whatever the fuck just happened with Stacey occurred and now Luke was feeling something he’d never felt before and it was already fucking with him.

Instead of just standing awkwardly, Stacey took a few tentative steps towards Luke, arms tight across her chest as she asked, “Do you take requests?”

His blue eyes met hers, back straightening as she neared him, looking up at her with the subtlest quirks of his brow. “What’ll it be?”

Stacey thought for a moment before realizing her mind was blanking. This was uncharted territory with Luke; this was them being civil with one another, something neither of them were too used to as she chewed on her lower lip. She was still trying to figure out what the hell had happened before, and it wasn’t helping her think. Ultimately, she said with a shrug, “Surprise me.”

A short chuckle escaped Luke, airy as a low grumble of thunder sounded outside. Then, to Stacey’s surprise, he shifted on the bench, shooting her an expectant look. Realizing that he was asking her to sit, Stacey uncrossed her arms and swallowed inaudibly, sitting down on the bench next to him, feeling the cold, sleek black wood against her bare thighs, her right one pressing against Luke’s left sweatpants clad black one.

She watched him from her peripheral, as if afraid to actually look at him, eyes watching his fingers come up to rest on the piano keys. He paused for a moment, maybe trying to figure out what to play, before he began pressing on the keys and the melody turned into a familiar one. Stacey’s breath quietly hitched in her throat as she recognized the song as Speechless by Dan & Shay.

And when Luke started singing, Stacey was certain she wouldn’t get the breath he’d stolen back until he was done.

The rain in the background added some kind of ethereal element to Luke’s singing and playing, the lyrics falling past his lips easily and fingers working the keys skilfully. Stacey forgot her apprehensiveness, opening watching Luke with slightly parted lips and wondrous eyes; she watched the way he shut his eyes as he sang, eyebrows furrowing as he focused on the lyrics and the way the upper half of his body slightly swayed back and forth while playing.

His blonde curls framed his face, Stacey’s fingers itching to push some tendrils behind his ear but not at all wanting to interrupt him, to pull him out of whatever universe he was currently lost in. She had no fucking idea her annoying, snide roommate was so musically talented, that he could sing better than some artists she’s actually attended concerts for. Despite the darkness in the room, Stacey was seeing Luke in a different, breathtaking light.

By the time he was done, Stacey was openly staring at him, as if he was a completely different person. But he wasn’t, and somehow it was the most damning thing. It made her think of Luke’s comment from earlier in the night, of how she didn’t know him. And now, she was regretting it.

His eyes met hers, and Stacey let out a quiet breath. “That was, uh. . .”

Luke raised his eyebrows, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “So good it’s got you speechless?”

She didn’t miss his obvious pun, a scoff of a laugh escaping her. “Yeah, but I’m afraid if I actually say that it’ll only boost your Jupiter-sized ego,” she quickly returned, sliding off the bench and walking towards the kitchen. Stacey suddenly felt the need to put some distance between them; his pleasant scent and ridiculously gorgeous voice and pretty blue eyes were becoming too much for her out of nowhere.

Entering the kitchen, she grabbed her half drunk water bottle she’d opened earlier that night, leaning her back against the counter next to the fridge as she took a sip of it. A lame attempt of hoping to cool herself down, which only failed when Luke leisurely walked into the kitchen. The mirth that was dancing in his eyes seconds ago was gone, leaning against the counter diagonal of her. Luke crossed his arms over his broad chest and Stacey felt small, for the first time, under the six-foot-plus man’s gaze. “It was an ode to you.”

Stacey probably would’ve choked on her water had she not swallowed already, but the plastic crackled ever so slightly under her tight grip. “Really?” She hoped her voice remained casual, unsuspecting. “Since when are you speechless around me?”

The serious expression remained on Luke’s face, from what Stacey could tell through the darkness of the kitchen, his body a near silhouette thanks to the candle in the living room behind him. “Since the second you walked out of the bathroom in my sweatshirt and I realized I had no fuckin’ clue how to act around you.”

Stacey lifted her chin as she put the bottle down, not entirely ready to give into his words despite the way her heart was suddenly pounding against her ribcage, ready to break the bones. Outside, though, she kept her cool. “Didn’t seem to act any different, in my opinion. Same old, same old.”

“Yeah?” Luke’s voice had taken on its challenging tone once again, pushing himself away from the counter as he approached her slowly, like a predator stalking its prey. He stopped in front of her, just a foot or two of space between them, looking down at her with blue eyes darkened. This time, Stacey could feel the electricity. This time, she knew his eyes didn’t appear that way because of lack of light. His blonde hair was pushed back, behind his ears and away from his face, as his slightly accented voice asked, “You didn’t feel anything different?”

She stood her ground, though it was increasingly becoming hard with how intensely he was staring at her. “No.”

Stacey could’ve sworn she saw Luke’s smirk widen before his lips flattened. But she saw a flash of something in his eyes, and she knew she was in trouble. He took a step closer, causing Stacey to tilt her head back to be able to maintain eye contact. “You didn’t want to kiss me as much as I wanted to kiss you?”

He didn’t even have to mention exactly what moment he was referring to, because she knew. Of course she knew. The desire to kiss him when she’d accidentally fallen on top of him was almost painful, and not going through with it had her body protesting with all its might. Her next answer was a lot less confident than her last, her damn voice quivering out the one word answer of, “No.”

This time, she actually did see the smirk widen on Luke’s face, a shadow of a dimple appearing as he closed the distance between them. “Lyin’s not one of your strong suits, Stacey.”

She didn’t even have a moment of to melt over the way her name sounded falling past his lips, because she was already melting into Luke’s touch when his lips caught hers in an almost bruising kiss. But Stacey loved it; she loved the way his lips sucked on her lower one, how Luke didn’t miss a moment in grabbing her by the thighs, his few cold rings sending waves of shivers, and lifted her onto the counter.

Luke slotted himself between her legs, hands teasingly massaging her thighs as Stacey deepened the kiss, tongue trailing the seam of his lips, which he parted for her. Her hands finally found home in his hair, running through the curls like she had itched to do so, loving how the soft strands felt between her fingers as she tugged him closer.

There was nothing soft or slow about this, but that’s how both of them liked it for now. The built up tension that had been simmering all night long was finally coming to a head, the two of them able to get out whatever their frustrations with and feelings for one another were. Jolts of electricity were shocking their bodies as they kissed, eager to get dizzy off of each other’s taste.

“You look so fuckin’ good in my sweatshirt,” Luke mumbled against her lips, fingers coming to to grasp the hem of the material. “But it needs to come off.”

Stacey didn’t argue, letting Luke pull it up and breaking their kiss to get it off all the way. She was left in only her underwear, which at this point had dried, and her skin flushed when Luke let out an appreciative groan at the sight of her, his hands gripping her thighs to pull her as close to him as possible. His blue eyes drank her in greedily, lips connecting once more as his deepened voice commented, “So fucking gorgeous, sweetheart.”

His compliments only served to spread the warmth throughout her body, mind on him and him only. She was already so lost in Luke, heart beating excitedly and not at all thinking of what the hell she was getting herself into. She wanted this. She wanted him.

Her own hands found his sweatshirt, giving it a tug upwards. “You’re wearing too many clothes,” she breathed impatiently, and Luke complied as he reached for the back of his sweatshirt, helping Stacey in pulling it up and tossing it somewhere on the floor, no shirt on underneath and curls wild and messier than before.

Stacey brushed a curl out of his face before pulling him in for another kiss, though it lasted only for a few moments before Luke began trailing his lips up her jaw and down her neck. His scruff scratched at her skin wonderfully, adding onto the way his lips and teeth made her stomach clench, and her nails lightly grazed down his back when he found the spot that had her breath stuttering.

Suddenly, as Luke sucked and kissed on her skin, a thought rushed through his mind and Luke was pulling away. “What’re you doing?” Stacey breathed heavily, watching in confusion as Luke took a step to the side.

“I’ve got an idea, pretty girl.” She gripped the edge of the counter at the term of endearment, watching as Luke opened the fridge, squinting through the darkness as he pulled something out and shut the door. Stacey recognized the can immediately as Luke stepped back between her legs.

She watched the man in front of him with glazed eyes thanks to being lost in his scent and touch and taste, his tall and broad frame blocking her view of everything but him. Luke shook the can for a moment before picking the top off and then pressed some whipped cream onto his right index finger. Then he held it out to her, and Stacey’s gaze went from his finger balancing some whipped cream to his gaze, smug and lazily smirking.

“Since you like it so much,” his smooth voice mused, bringing his finger closer to her mouth, expression expectant as he encouraged, “Go on.”

Was this really happening? An excited shiver threatened to run down Stacey’s spine, but she ignored it, feeling a whole new level of scalding desire fire up in her veins. And so, just like Luke wanted, Stacey parted her mouth and welcomed his finger, closing her lips around the digit. Her blue eyes never left his, their sight having long adjusted to the darkness, and she watched Luke watch her suck on his finger, tongue swirling to lick off the cream he’d placed just for her.

She was a vision and Luke was grateful he was wearing sweatpants because he didn’t think he’d ever seen a sight so fucking stunning.

He let her suck on his finger for a few more moments, the whipped cream long gone, and Luke took the opportunity to keep his finger in her mouth but use his thumb and the rest of his digits to turn her head to the left. Then he brought up the can and, making sure her hair was out of the way, sprayed a line of white cream starting from where her jaw met her neck to where her neck met her shoulder, that particular spot being the one that made her toes curl, he’d discovered.

Luke brought his lips to her skin, starting near her jaw, his finger still in her mouth as he kissed and licked the cream away as he went down. Stacey moaned softly around his finger, his hand still gripping her jaw, as he sucked the last of the cream off and proceeded to nip at her skin, making sure to leave a mark in his wake.

They continued like that, the temperature in the room suddenly rising as Luke removed his finger from Stacey’s mouth to unclasp her bra, ridding of the offending material somewhere on the floor. He continued with the whipped cream, cheekily spraying a line from her belly button to her throat, crouching to his knees to lick all the way up. His scruff scratched at her and hands gave attention to her breasts, Stacey’s head tilting back and breathless gasps escaping her as Luke reached her throat and bit and sucked a few more marks. He couldn’t see them in the dark just yet, but leaving her with hickeys they’d be able to see in the light was only fueling the fire.

At one point, the teasing was getting too much and Stacey grabbed his face, facial hair tickling her palms, and connected their lips in a heated kiss that left them both dizzy. She tasted the whipped cream on his tongue, licking into his mouth as her fingers buried themselves in his blonde curls and his own made work of her underwear.

Luke got them off expertly, not even having to break their kiss as he took a step to the side so her legs weren’t around him for the briefest moment to take her underwear off. He kissed her, deeply and desperately, as he got rid of his own sweatpants, grateful for his lack of underwear in the moment.

Stacey heard him open a drawer after he stepped out of his sweats, hooded eyes opening ever so slightly as she saw Luke pull out a condom from the drawer next to them. She let out an amused, breathless giggle against his lips. “You keep condoms in the kitchen?”

She felt his lips curl against hers as he tore open the packet. “Keep ’em in every room,” his throaty voice responded, “gotta be prepared.”

That only made Stacey laugh, her grin putting a pause in their kissing as Luke mirrored it, their breathing too heavy to be able to hear the rain that was still going on outside. He already had the condom on, but Luke still brushed his nose against Stacey’s, the action tender and gentle and everything they hadn’t been since they first kissed. Both of their hearts were beating wildly, wondering if the other could hear as Luke’s hands remained on her hips, his touch warm and inviting.

His lips, pink and swollen from their greedy kisses, grazed against her own as he breathed, “D’you still wanna do this?”

Stacey’s hands still remained in his hair, throat working as she, with complete conviction and without any shame, divulged desperately, “More than anything.”

That’s all it took. Luke’s grip on her hips tightened, fingers digging into her skin as he pulled her forward until he was swiftly entering her thanks to the low height of the counter. Appreciative, dizzied moans escaped both of them, mixing together like Luke’s favorite melody, as he buried himself to the hilt, Stacey welcoming him completely.

He gave her a moment to adjust despite his muscles screaming at him to move, their hearts thundering and breaths lost. While Stacey’s right hand remained in his hair, her left arm looped around his neck as her forehead pressed against his and she begged thickly, “God, Luke, move, please.”

Luke was quick to comply, never one to let a lady waiting, beginning a steadfast pace that had Stacey throwing her head back and allowing Luke to once again attach his lips to her neck. His kisses burned her wonderfully, the sound of his hips snapping into hers echoing in the quiet kitchen, Stacey’s eyes clenched shut as she felt him move between her expertly, hitting every spot he needed to.

His chest pressed against hers, lips working on her skin and hips never giving up the pace he set. “So good, pretty girl,” Luke rasped, arms wrapping around her waist and hands splaying across her back and feeling her hair tickle his skin, keeping her close, adoring the way her body writhed with every movement. “You’re so fuckin’ good for me.”

All Stacey could manage were sinful moans, sometimes breathless, of his name, the desperate way she uttered it only spurring Luke on. Her legs were wrapped around her hips, and it wasn’t until moments after Luke brought one hand around to rub at her clit that her legs tightened. “Gonna come for me, baby?” His hips kept snapping into hers, bringing her closer and closer to the edge, yet Luke still managed to nip at her lower lip as he thickly cooed, “Gonna show me how good I make you feel?”

“Yes, oh, my God, yes,” Stacey moaned, arms around his neck and keeping him close. She could feel the familiar coil burning in her very core, every stroke of Luke’s cock within her walls increasingly bringing her closer to the edge she desperately wanted to fall from.

His name was like a mantra falling from her lips, his face burying in her neck and her head tilting back as her orgasm crashed through her, more rattling than the thunder outside as her eyes clenched shut and stars exploded behind her lids. She felt like she was on fire, one she didn’t want to put out, and Luke never ceased his thrusts as he let her ride out her orgasm.

Luke’s own washed over him soon after, his movements growing sloppy as he came with a dizzying intensity, breath hot and heavy against Stacey’s skin as she kept her fingers in his hair. They remained like that as they tried to catch their breathing, minds so far gone into the aftermath bliss they created for themselves. Both of their bodies had a thin layer of sweat, but neither of them cared for it. This was too fucking good to think of anything else. All they wanted was to remain lost in one another, to enjoy the closeness and heart stopping thrill the other’s touch brought them.

For now, they were fine with the quiet. For now, they were fine with being speechless for a few moments.

*****

The next morning, when Luke woke, sunlight was streaming through the slit between his bedroom curtains, hitting his closed eyelids and dragging him out of his slumber. Luke furrowed his eyebrows sleepily, not entirely ready to join the conscious world, as he shifted his face away from the window and to the right. He laid on his side, and under the covers Luke felt his legs brush against something, eyes fluttering open when he caught sight of the girl sleeping next to him.

Memories of the previous night came flooding back almost instantly and Luke took a breath, sleepy eyes tracing over the black haired slumbering woman. The white sheets covering both of their bodies came up right below her collarbones, and Luke rested his cheek against his pillow and allowed himself to admire Stacey.

Her black hair was fanned against the white pillow, laying on her back with her right arm resting on the pillow above her head. Luke’s blue eyes trailed to the obvious marks on her neck and throat, the purple bruises standing out against her sun kissed skin. A lazy smile curled at Luke’s lips, which felt electric as he thought of what occurred last night.

He crossed a line with his neighbor he never thought he would, but Luke didn’t regret it. Not when this gorgeous woman made him feel so fucking dizzy just by her kisses. Everything had happened so fast, without either of them really thinking it through, and Luke could only hope she didn’t regret it. They always bickered for the stupidest, most childish of reasons. He wanted to put an end to that. He wanted more.

“I can feel you looking at me.”

Luke blinked in surprise, head pulling back slightly at Stacey’s tired voice speaking without her eyes even opening. He watched as she squinted her eyes open, blue meeting blue, tilting her head up slightly to look at him. A small smile curled at her lips. “Can’t help it,” Luke murmured quietly, left hand coming up to gently brush back a lock of her dark hair with a finger. “Can finally see you in the light. So pretty.”

He saw her throat work at his words, lips he yearned to kiss once more parting at the early morning sincerity in his voice. It was such a change of pace from the usual Luke she was used to—hell, most of last night was—and it wasn’t something Stacey was used to. Yet. But she could be. She wanted to be.

She looked at Luke, admired the way the sunlight behind him made him glow, much like the candle had the night before, his hair looking golden and blue eyes rivaling that of a clear sky. He looked like an angel despite the sinful things he’d done to her last night.

“Do you regret it?”

When Luke spoke up once more, he pulled Stacey back into the present, blue eyes flickering to meet his once more. She noticed his throat working after he asked the question, eyes searching hers for some kind of answer. It was crazy how she didn’t even have to think about, as if one night had completely changed her views on Luke. Stacey was thinking it did. “No, I don’t,” she answered truthfully. She bit the inside of her cheek before asking, “Do you?”

Luke’s lips twitched. “The only thing I regret is that neither of us got her heads out of our asses to do that sooner.” Stacey let out a relieved yet amused laugh at that, shaking her head as a dimpled grin took over Luke’s face as he watched her. “D’you wanna know what I wanna do?”

She smiled at him, raising her eyebrows. Honestly, Stacey couldn’t believe she was here, naked in Luke’s bed, so ready and willing to get over her past grievances with him if it meant starting something different. Something better. “What?”

Luke shifted closer, feeling her breasts lightly press against his chest under the covers, their eyes never leaving one another as he told her, “Wanna make you breakfast and just. . . Talk.” He saw her expression soften, instantly picking up on his train of thought. “We’ve been livin’ next to each other for over a year and all we ever did was argue. And then last night happened and. . . It just made me realize what we were missing out on. And it’s made me want to get to know you more, I dunno, intimately.”

An almost coy smirk tilted Stacey’s lips as her her hand rested on his shoulder before sliding up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing against his cheekbone as she teased, “I think we got to know each other quite intimately last night.”

Luke let out a laugh, pressing a kiss to her palm before his light eyes met hers. No signs of annoyance or exasperation that he was so used to seeing. Just a tenderness he wanted to see more of as she basked in the morning glow. He thought last night she was a vision, but in this moment. . . Nothing was more beautiful. “You know what I mean, Stace,” he smiled, the nickname slipping past his lips so naturally that it had Stacey’s smile widening.

“I know,” she hummed, hand sliding from his jaw to his hair, shifting even closer. “And I agree. We’re working backwards but that’s okay. We got this.”

Luke smiled, feeling a swell of relief at her compliance, at the fact that she wanted something more just as he did. Stacey pressed a quick kiss to his lips before pulling away too soon. Mirth danced in her eyes as she added, “But I’ll make breakfast.”

He rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t complain. “Fine by me.”

Grinning, Stacey sat up, pressing the sheet to her chest with one hand while the other grabbed at Luke’s tugging him up as she sat on her knees. “Alright,” she said, feeling her skin flush as Luke openly admired her, adoring her messy black hair and marked skin and pretty smile. She squeezed his hand. “Come on; I’ll make eggs and tell you all about me growing up as a military brat and you can tell me all about growing up in the land down under.”

Luke let her pull him off of the bed, giving her the sheet to wrap herself around as he followed after her, uncaring of the fact that he was naked. They put on the sweatshirts and sweatpants that had been strewn about on the kitchen floor, and Luke listened to Stacey talk about her childhood as she prepared breakfast for them.

It was only a start, but the two of them were more than ready to look past their previous attitudes towards one another and start a new chapter neither of them had seen coming. They shared childhood stories as Luke offered to chop the onions and scallions for the omelets Stacey was making, sharing giggles and bumps of hips as they went, and it was good.

They were enjoying each other’s company, they were exchanging kisses in between, they were getting to know each other as more than the next door neighbor they had once found annoying. His apartment was no longer filled with the frustrated energy they had gotten so used to, instead rang with the sounds of their laughter and words exchanged.

How things had so drastically changed between them in a matter of hours was enough to spin anyone’s head, but the sound of Stacey’s laughter tickled his stomach and the sight of Luke’s dimples melted her heart and they both decided, fiercely and exclusively, that this was the kind of good different they welcomed without complaint.

tags: @crownedbyluke @irwinkitten @astroashtonio @glitterprincelu @softforcal @valentinelrh @hotmessmichael @meetashthere @captain-what-is-going-on @angelbbycal @nostalgia-luke @grittyisathot @calumh-excess @hereforlukescruff @mysteriouslycali @invisiblexcth @paqueretteash @cosmixcalum @roselukes @kinglycalum @fucking5sos @calumculture @slimthicccal @ohhmuke @bitchinbabylon @all-i-want-is2b-loved-by-you @wrappedaroundcal @kinglyhemmings @calntynes @calistheloml @egyptiangoldhood @old-zeppelin-shirt @bloodlinecal @5secondssofssummer @emma070900 @calumamongmen @tupeloohoneyy @cliffordcntrl @gettingjillywithit @softboycal @xhaileyreneex @5saucewho @wcstethenights @gigglyirwin @inlovehoodx @misskarynie @akacalciumhood @biwriting @lipstickstainfading @runawaywithme-xo @5sos-stan4lyfe @calteahood @dher216 @soulmatecashton @babygirlcashton @visualm3nte @lietomemyvalentine @cxddlyash @complete-trash-101 @grreatgooglymoogly @empathycth @calumthoodsyonce @flannelpunkcalum

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danetobelieve · 4 years

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Merder, She Wrote || Sera and Winston

After everything that had happened, after the endless night and the vampire attack that had put Ricky in hospital and was going to leave Winston with a very nasty scar on their shoulder. Todd had been bragging to them about this awesome warehouse rave near Finney Docks, they said that the building was literally on the waterfront and that it was going to be the event of the century. Winston wasn’t usually the druggy type, they weren’t really the drinky type either. But tonight, tonight they needed to let loose and forget some of the shit that had happened recently. As they stood waiting for Sera, they watched the frost of their breath expand in front of them. Spotting a figure in the distance, they assumed it must be her and started over towards her. “Sera?” they asked, curious if they were wrong.

Part of Sera hadn’t expected Winston to actually come up with any party plans that would interest her. But a warehouse rave? Oh, she’d be an idiot to say no to that one. Even a bad rave was a good time. For her, anyway. People got stupid at these things. Vulnerable. So if at any point she was ready to go, she could always muscle a loopy human from the crowd and salvage the night that way. And with the party by the docks? Sera made a point to be on time for this one, practically skipping as she found the two young things standing around. “The one and only,” she grinned widely, pointing their way. “You must be Winston?” She nodded, though her eyebrow lifted slightly when she looked over at his friend. “And you must be the famous Todd your pal here keeps boasting about.” She could practically feel the thumping bass from where they stood. “You foxy friends sure you can keep up in there?” She teased, nodding towards the warehouse. “Last chance to back out.”

Winston pulled off their glasses almost habitually and scrubbed their lenses clean. “Yeah, that’s me.” They smiled, shocked at the fact this was really happening. This really was outside of their comfort zone, but then again they had done plenty of other things in the last few months that were outside of their normal experience. Maybe this was no different. Hopefully nothing went wrong. It’d be nice to have a night free of anything too lethal. Todd nodded and made their introductions before smiling gently. “No, I’m definitely going, there’s no backing out now.” They didn’t give themselves a chance to leave and headed towards the warehouse entrance where there were two very large bouncers that Winston decided they weren’t going to piss off. Flashing them their ticket, they waited patiently for the bouncers to pat them down before slipping inside the club. Turning to Todd and Sera, they tried to make themselves heard over the boom of the music, “I’m going to find the bar.”

There was just something in the way that Winston carried themself—the nervous-like cleaning of their glasses, for example—that told Sera this was, in fact, their first rodeo. That was fine. She had no trouble showing these two kids how it was done. Winston especially looked a hair more unsure of themselves, despite their strong words. “Let’s shake our groove thangs then, shall we?” She took a good long sip of the flask hidden in her boot before they went in. Dark, loud, sweaty. Everything a good rager should be. She was nodding along, one hand already in the air as she followed behind Winston. “First round’s on me!” She shouted, ordering up whatever bright neon drinks they were serving. Didn’t ask, didn’t matter. She just paid and received. That’s how this worked. She handed two each off to the other two in her group. One in each hand, she shouted loud again, a bright grin on her face. “To new friends! And this killer party!”

At the bar, Winston had already order themselves a drink before Sera came and ordered everyone a frankly disproportionate amount of alcohol. But considering that Winston had just finished the majority of what had been a very strong but also very small drink, they weren’t complaining. “Fuck yes!” they exclaimed slightly unsure of what they were actually meant to say here but there was something about the music, about the thrum of the bass, about the movement of the crowd, about the beat, about the tightness and how closely they were all packed into a single hot and humid space, it was invigorating and by the time that Winston had finished one drink, their second and third neon drink had been swallowed as well. Winston was purchasing themselves new drinks and pushing them into Sera’s hand as they danced. This was amazing. They’d never felt so free. They’d been clubbing, but this was something else entirely. The setting, the music, the people. The carefreeness of it all was more then enough to hook Winston in. “This isn’t really my thing,” they admitted but after everything that had happened they were really starting to re-examine what was acutally their thing, “but this is really fucking awesome.”

It hadn’t taken nearly as long as Sera had thought they would to ease into the flow of the evening, but it happened. This was one of her favorite kinds of evenings. Just completely losing herself into the music, the booze, the feeling. Hopping around with a bunch of sweaty humans wasn’t the best part but it was the fluidity, the life. And sure, maybe it was a little bit of whatever that babe in the bathroom had given her, but the colors were far fuckin’ out too. She couldn’t help but laugh out at Winston’s confession. So innocent, so sweet. “Hell yeah!” She laughed, jumping in time with the music. When did she put those neon rings around her wrists? There were so many too. She laughed, taking a quick look at the time. Shit. Party was almost over. How long had they been dancing? She found Todd and tugged him closer to where she and Winston were dancing. “Alright, alright. Show’s almost over. But--” that devilish grin returned as she yelled over the music once more. “One more shot for the road? Yeah?”

It had certainly been an evening, Winston was drenched in sweat and they weren’t entirely sure that it was all their own. But the boom and thud of the music and the twang of the bassline were more then enough to keep them from caring. They’d lost Todd and Sera several times throughout the evening and Todd had even convinced them to try something new. They weren’t normally like this but with everything that had happened they had found themselves barely hesitating. As the night clearly wound towards its end however, Winston was gathered alongside their friend for a final drink. Wiping sweat from their forehead, they grasped the neon drink and nodded. “One more shot for the road,” they affirmed already planning their next trip in their head, “but we’re definitely going to have to come back soon.” If they were going to have to deal with vampires, zombies and werewolves, not to mention everything else that was probably worse that they didn’t yet know about. Then they would also have to find new ways to enjoy their down time. Right?

Sera couldn’t stop grinning at Winston. The world was bright and colorful and spinning but despite her initial reservations, she did have a good ass time. “That’s the spirit, dude!” She wrapped an arm around Winston’s shoulder, facing towards Todd and the circle the three of them made. Held up her drink and downed it quickly, then tossed the shot glass behind her. It shattered loudly behind the bar and instantly there was a bouncer coming at them. “Maybe just not here specifically,” she laughed, shoving Winston and Todd along as she bolted for the door and out into the cool night air. She stopped running when they were far away enough, so close they could almost touch the docks. Fuck. She was starving, she suddenly realized, casting a long, flirty smirk at Todd. She plopped into the soft earth, dizzy and out of breath. “What a night,” she grinned, pointing to Winston. “You’re much cooler than you look, my new funky friends.”

In their life, Winston was certain that they had never thrown anything glass. But here they were doing it. Following Sera’s example (something that they would have never considered if they were sober) they chucked the shot glass over their shoulder, grinned and bolted away from the bouncer. Normally they would’ve been wrapped up in panic about CCTV catching them and whether this could get them in trouble with the internship, but they weren’t thinking about that now and as they bolted from the rave, Winston gazed into the still night. They weren’t sure what time it was and they weren’t sure exactly where they were, but as they followed suit and collapsed onto the ground and Winston took a few breaths as the world spun around them, they were enjoying themselves. They missed the smirk between Todd and Sera, leaning back their head settling into the dirt. “Fuck meeeee,” they groaned with ectasy, “this was really something, you really weren’t kidding when you said that you knew how to have a good time.”

Another laugh burst from the blonde and Sera turned to watch Winston struggle in the dirt beside her. “Oh, I don’t kid about a good time,” she smirked, resting her head in her hand. “You’re not gonna get sick on me now, are you? Because that’s gonna kill the vibe, bruh.” Still a little dizzy, still a lot drunk, but after a few failed attempts she giggled her way to a standing position one more time. “Are we done partying for the night? Or—I know a gal who could probably get us into some of the after hours bars in town.” She held out her hand to help Winston up, raising a brow. “What do you say, kid? Wanna keep this party train rollin’?”

Glancing at their watch, Winston frowned as they realised what the time was. They were starting to feel more and more drunk, or were they just tired. They didn’t know but they knew that they didn’t want to find out, because they definitely didn’t want to make a mess. “I don’t think I’m going to be sick, but if I keep going then I definitely will be.” Winston had lied to Nic about having an iron stomach and then been very sick, this situation was completely different but they weren’t about to make the same mistake. “I admit that I’ve lost this challenge, you win, you’re more experienced and hardcore.” They grinned at her and glanced at Todd who seemed to be in a bit of a better state. “I think Todd is ready to keep going,” they tottered to their feet and pointed finger guns at their friend who returned the gesture and made some vague promise about how they were going to keep partying till the early hours of the morning. Sometimes being sensible was difficult.

The band was breaking up and Sera could sense an opening here. With her biggest, proudest grin of the night, she gave Winston a curt bow. “Thank you, thank you. Love hearing you finally admit I’m better than you,” she teased gleefully. Fuck, there went her stomach again. She’d eaten plenty but this always happened when she went as hard as she did tonight. “Further proof, right there.” She rolled her eyes at their fingergunning bromance moment. Slipped her arm through Todd’s as they started moving towards the road. Other party goers were trickling out of the warehouse, neon painted body parts speckled across the street back into town. “So you’re out, Winnie? You’re suuuure?” She waggled her eyebrows.

Winston really did consider keeping the party going. There was potential for so much fun yet to be had, but their eyes were getting heavy, their limbs felt tired and it looked like Todd and Sera were about to become much better acquainted then Winston would’ve known was possible. “I am not so full of hubris that I cannot admit when I have been bested by a worthy opponent,” Winston chuckled before shaking their head, “I’m sure, I’m sure, I’m getting an uber home and I am going to try and sleep until my head stops spinning so violently.” Giving a vague wave, Winston turned and began to join the stream of people exiting the warehouses.

Sera feigned a pout as Winston disappeared into the stream of tired drunks on their wayward journey home. Soon enough she’d be one of them, sure, but the night was fae from over for her. For Todd? She cast a glance his way. He seemed like a cute, personable guy. And sure, they’d had a good ass time tonight. But the boy was human. And that’s where her loyalties instantly severed. Her stomach growled. Taking his hand, she started backtracking towards the dark waters below the docks, making sure to stay out of sight of the others around them. “On second thought,” she tilted her head, tugging him along. “What do you say we go for a swim?”

#p: sera #wickedwriting #para #merder she wrote

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tmarie82 · 6 years

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Private Party

Pairing: Dr. Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Blake Reyes)

Book: Open Heart

Word Count: ~4,100

Rating: NSFW

Disclaimer: The storyline and dialogue from the first ⅔ of this story is completely the work of Pixelberry’s Open Heart chapter 6, with my own artistic embellishments. Also, I refused to pay diamonds for that piece of red sequined fabric that PB tried to pawn off as a “shirt” in the chapter, so I’ve classed up Blake’s outfit a bit for the story.

Author’s Note: I was floored by how good Bryce’s first diamond scene was last week. Even with the fade-to-black that left some to the imagination, it was still incredibly HOT and perfectly Bryce. This is my adaptation of the housewarming party (and private party in Blake’s room) from Bryce’s perspective. This can and does fit into the timeline of my other Bryce x Blake stories, or it can be read as a stand-alone based on pure canon.

Please let me know if you would like to be added to my tag list. You can find all of my fics in my Masterlist on my homepage.

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Bryce Lahela had always enjoyed a good party. Starting with the high school ragers he’d attended when his friends’ parents were away and then the college keg parties that would inevitably end with the cops at the door, he had developed a reputation for being quite the party boy. Yet somehow tonight at this particular party, he found himself unexcited at the prospect of free beer and drinking games. Instead he found himself anxiously awaiting the arrival of one person in particular.

Perched atop the arm of the large L-shaped sofa, Bryce tipped his head back to swallow another mouthful of his chilly IPA. He’d brought the six-pack as a housewarming gift of sorts, a casual gesture since he knew Blake loved to try new craft brews, however the beverages had proven quite handy after thirty minutes at the party without a keg. But the bad news was, since he already had a backup in the beer department, that meant there was still no sign of Blake …

He was currently chatting with Elijah and Landry, trying his best to make a good impression on Blake’s two male roommates. While he still wasn’t exactly sure where this thing with Blake was going, deep down he was hoping to see whole lot more of her in the future and he knew maintaining a good rapport with the roommates would be beneficial to everyone down the road. The two other guys were recounting the events from their expedition to the Nighthawks baseball game the other day, and surprisingly Bryce found himself rolling at Elijah’s recap of Landry’s first baseball experience.

The laughter rumbled from his chest, his head thrown back before he responded to the tale. “It sounds like you guys did it right! I’d love to go to a game sometime if you are up to it.” Bryce lifted his bottle to his lips again, taking a small swig before he noticed a slim figure lugging a large metal barrel awkwardly through the front door.

“Yeah, that would be great!” Bryce could hear Landry talking in front of him, although his attention was admittedly focused elsewhere. He couldn’t help the warm grin that spread across his face as he examined Blake, her dark hair looking disheveled in a knot atop her head and her face knitted as she struggled to get the bulky keg further inside. “And I know Blake wouldn’t mind if you tagged along.”

The mention of her name brought Bryce back to the moment, his eyes looking back to the two other men to find them watching him with knowing looks. “I’d really love that. Let me know next time you guys go.” He chugged the rest of his beer down, setting it down on the table before averting his gaze back to Blake. “But if you’ll excuse me, it appears that I am needed elsewhere …” He heard the soft chuckling from the two other men as he walked away, but his mind had already moved on.

Blake had finally made it past the front door and about six feet into the entryway tugging the keg by one handle behind her. Bryce swooped in swiftly and gripped the other handle with one hand, lifting it effortlessly off the ground. “Lemme help with that.” Blake startled at the sudden assistance and turned to him, her eyes blank for a brief second until they glistened with a genuine warmth upon recognition. Bryce nodded a hello at her, following behind her with keg in hand as they now smoothly made their way to deposit it in the kitchen. As they set it down, he finally voiced his confession. “I was wondering where you were.”

Blake flashed him a smug grin, obviously pleased to hear that he had been looking for her. “At the hospital, getting puked on. Again.”

He laughed out loud, his eyes sparkling mischievously as he replied. “I love when you talk dirty.”

He saw her eyes widen at his playful innuendo, then her face set in a satisfied grin. “At least one of us does.” She looked down at her plain gray henley and jeans with a grimace, running her hands along the fabric before glancing back up with a pleading look. “Give me a minute to get showered and changed.”

Bryce nodded, his eyes following her as she made her way through the crowded room towards the bedrooms. Of course his mind had already conjured up an image of Blake in the shower, her slick hands massaging soap across her wet skin, the water trailing over her full breasts and down the curves of her belly and then lower … He cleared his throat and shifted in place to divert the blood flow in his body, attempting to avoid an obvious physical indication of this thoughts in his pants. He quickly surveyed the room for an entertaining distraction to pass the time.

Twenty minutes later, Bryce stood in the middle of the room chatting with several of the other surgical interns when he noticed Blake emerging from her room looking clean and, well, pretty damn hot. Her thick ebony hair tumbled over her shoulders, resting atop her low-cut red blouse that revealed just enough to leave a guy wanting more. And Bryce definitely wanted to see more … which was probably obvious by the way he was staring with his jaw wide open when he caught Blake smirking at him. Bryce tried to compose himself as best he could while she sauntered slowly over to him. “Oh, damn …” was all he could think to say once she was finally standing before him.

Blake arched an eyebrow at him inquisitively, that playful smirk still lifting the edges of her lips slightly. “Problem?” She asked innocently, as if she didn’t know exactly what she was doing to him.

Shaking his head, Bryce allowed his eyes to rake up and down her body, admiring her up close and personal. “Just admiring the transformation.” He noticed her dark eyes sparkle with satisfaction at his response, her bronze skin glowing warmly under his gaze.

“Are you saying I looked terrible before?” Her eyes narrowed in challenge as she waited expectantly.

Bryce’s eyes darkened as he met her gaze, a sly grin on his lips. “I’m saying you look killer now.” He didn’t miss Blake’s sharp intake of breath as he emphasized his words, delighting in the slight flush that crept to her cheeks at his bold flirtation.

Finally tearing her eyes away from his, Blake began looking around the party. “Well I don’t know about you, but I need to see a doctor about some shots!” She gave him a wicked smile. “You in?”

“Sounds like a plan. You lead the way, Reyes!” Sliding his hand to cup her lower back, Bryce followed closely behind as she guided them through the crowded room.

~~~

The party continued on until the wee hours of the morning, the rambunctious crowd gradually dwindling off and transitioning to a low-key gathering after the landlord came around at midnight. The keg had long been floated, the board games had been laid out, and couples had started pairing off and departing for the privacy of their own homes. By anyone’s standards, the housewarming party had been a success.

Despite the quiet vibes in the penthouse apartment, Bryce wasn’t ready to call it quits for the night. Determined to make himself useful, and hopefully win over a certain lady and her roommates in the process, he grabbed a recycling bag from the pantry and started making his way around the apartment picking up empty cans and bottles.

A few minutes into the mundane task he glanced up to find Blake watching him, her arms crossed across her chest as she observed him in amusement.

Bryce gave her a weak smile, shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to the remaining trash he hadn’t attacked yet. “Just about done cleaning up over here, Blake …” She approached, leaning down to retrieve a few cans and depositing them in the bag. “Thank you.” Bryce muttered appreciatively.

Blake scoffed. “Thank me? You’re the one staying late to clean up our party.”

Shrugging again, Bryce moved forward to pick up three more bottles. “Eh. Force of habit, I guess. Messes seem to follow me around for some reason. I’m pretty used to cleaning them up at this point.”

Blake chuckled, shaking her head as she leaned over to hand the last bottle to him. “Hmm … I can see that.” As she pulled away, her fingertips grazed the palm his hand, her eyes locking on his. Tugging her bottom lip between her teeth, Bryce could see the heat dancing in her dark eyes before she spoke in a low voice. “You know … you don’t have to go home.”

“Oh yeah? Where would I sleep?” The anticipation buzzed in his veins, the tension lingering in the space between them.

“With me.” Her stare was unfaltering, demanding even. There was no doubt in his mind that she wanted this just as badly as he did.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” His voice came out softer and huskier, laced with desire and intention. Blake grinned smugly, extending a hand to him and he laced his fingers through hers, allowing her to take the lead and usher him to her room.

As soon as the door was closed Bryce pushed her against it, cupping her chin and guiding her lips to his in a languid kiss. He felt her body melt into him, her hands gripping him by the collar of his shirt as if she were afraid to let go. She released a soft moan into his mouth as his tongue teased hers lightly, their mouths dancing together until she pulled away breathless. “Do you think anyone saw us?” Her words came out in breathy pants.

Bryce was unable to suppress the soft chuckle. “Do you care?”

Stilling in place she thought for a moment, then shook her head before muttering her reply against the tender flesh of his lips. “Not really.”

Pushing away from the door, Blake gradually guided them to the center of the room near her bed, his arms around her waist and their breath mingling as their kisses grew more fervent. When Bryce’s hands slipped under her hem to the small of her back she arched against him, sighing at the feel of his warm hands on her bare skin. Bryce slowly leaned back, his voice thick with desire and his eyes tinged with wonder as he admired her in the dim light. “You are gorgeous and I need to see a whole lot more of you.” Like putty in his hands Blake allowed him to tug her blouse over her head, lacing her fingers through his hair as he laid a trail of wet open-mouthed kisses across her collarbone and down her chest. He relished the sound of her mewls as he reached the black lace of her bra, running his tongue over the swell of her breast peeking out while his hands reached around to free her from the confining garment. As soon as she was bare he captured one peaked nipple in his mouth, swirling it slowly with his tongue as she tugged his hair roughly, then shifting to grasp the other one between his lips.

Releasing her breasts Bryce stood upright, his eyes devouring Blake as she peeked out from under hooded lids, her arousal apparent in her labored breathing. The sight and the sound and the smell of her invigorated his senses, his pupils broad and dark with lust. His strong hands spinned her around until her bare back was flush against the soft woolen fabric of his sweater, his rigid arousal prominent against the curve of her backside. His hands made a slow path down her body, taking his time to savor every sound and shiver he earned from her along the way. The soft scrape of his teeth at the base her neck followed by slow suckling kisses made her squirm, eliciting a low moan from her throat. So lost in the sensations of his touch, Blake giggled once she realized he had managed to remove the remainder of her clothing, leaving her naked except for her black lace panties. “You are … very good at this.” She flashed him a coy smile over her shoulder.

“I’m good at a lot of things.” He placed a finger under her chin to tilt her face to his and capture her lips, his hands looping around her body to cup a breast in each palm.

She responded eagerly to his touch, his thumb and fingers tweaking her nipples gently and causing her to writhe as her pleasure built. “You did tell me you had the best hands ...”

His chest vibrated against her back as he laughed softly, eager to hear what naughty plans she had in mind for him. “And?”

“And I need more convincing.” She said with a cheeky grin. He laughed, cupping her hips in his hands and steering her towards the bed. When the back of her legs hit the bed she paused, peering up into his eyes as her hands roamed over his chest and shoulders. Suddenly her eyes narrowed, focusing on the soft fabric beneath her fingertips. “Wait ... how am I nearly naked while you’re still dressed?”

Bryce chuckled, taking one step back and giving her a challenging look. “Feel free to fix that.” He quipped, giving her his usual cocky smirk that he knew drove her crazy. And sure enough …

Blake stepped forward, her eyes locked on his as her hands tugged his sweater over his head. Her fingers moved to undo the buttons of his shirt, slowly revealing inch by inch of his smooth tan skin as she continued. She dipped her head to nip along his chest as she pulled the shirt from his shoulders, giggling before playfully pushing him backwards onto the bed. Bryce just smiled as he watched her lean down over him, her deft fingers working the fly of his jeans open and tugging them down to the floor. Crawling on the bed she settled on his lap, one leg on each side of his hips. He could feel the warmth of her through the layers of fabric between them, grinding his growing bulge up against her instinctively. “Better?” He asked in a low whisper.

Blake bent down to cup his face in her palms, her breasts brushing against the bare skin of his chest as she kissed him deep and slow. She emitted a satisfied sigh, her breath tickling his lips as she whispered between kisses. “So much.”

For a moment they lingered there, Bryce running his fingers over the bare skin of her back, their hips rocking together slowly as their need for each other grew. Slipping a hand between them, Bryce stopped and peered up at her, his eyes imploring her as his fingertips tickled the waistband of her panties. “Are you sure you want this?” The sincerity in his voice, although genuine, did little to mask the husky tone of desire there.

Nodding her consent, Blake met his stare. “Keep going.”

“Whatever you want, Blake.” His lips pulled up at the corner in a small smile as he laid her back against the bed, hooking his fingers on her panties and pulling them down her legs. Settling in beside in her in the covers, his traced a slow path up her thighs.

Breathing heavier from the anticipation, she did her best to respond between pants. “Whatever I want?” She gave him a playful smile before her eyelids fluttered closed at his delightful torture.

Bryce shifted his body to align himself along her, grinning widely as she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him tighter. They moved together, his excitement pressing against her core, a tantalizing taste of what was to come. “Tell me.” He leaned down to kiss her, long and gentle, his fingertips dancing softly across the flushed skin of her cheek, her neck, her chest, settling at her waist. “Blake? What do you want?” He murmured into the crook of her neck as he lay kisses from her earlobe down to her shoulder.

“I want you to touch me.” She purred, her body tingling with need. She looked up to find him studying her face, his lip tucked between his teeth mischievously as he slid a hand lower and lower … Blake gasped when he found the wetness waiting for him between her legs, the slick heat causing Bryce to groan in arousal and his cock to twitch against the cotton material of his boxers.

God, he wanted her so bad … But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her as she squirmed at his touch, the soft moans and rolling of her hips against his hand giving him more than enough pleasure for the time being. “You’re stunning.” He whispered softly, his gaze never leaving her face.

She opened her eyes for a brief moment, lifting her hands to twine them in his hair and pull his face down to kiss him deeply. She laughed in between panting breaths. “And you really do have the best hands.”

He pulled away grinning wickedly, causing her to groan immediately at the loss of his touch and his kisses. His eyes flashed with a glimpse of something dark yet playful, sending a shiver from her head down to her toes. “You should see what the rest of me can do.”

Blake giggled as he moved down, kissing and nipping at her navel before moving lower, lower … but her her laughter was quickly replaced with soft moans as he licked along her abdomen, down her legs, up the inside of her thighs ... She threw her head back when his tongue ran a long stripe across her core, then another, Bryce unable to get enough of her smell and her taste. She gripped his hair in her fingers and thrust her hips to meet his mouth when he latched onto her clit, pulling it gently between his lips as he slipped two fingers into her. He could feel her begin to lose control, her legs shaking as he licked and sucked and fucked her relentlessly until she came with a cry, her back arching off the bed as she peaked.

Laying kisses up her body as she came down from her high, Bryce nestled in beside her and watched her breathing steady. He marveled at her radiance in this relaxed state, her skin rosy and slicked with a thin sheen of sweat, her breasts rising and falling in a steady rhythm as she regained her breath, her lips curled in a soft satisfied smile while she luxuriated in the aftershocks of her orgasm. “You’re amazing.” He murmured into the crook of her neck, running his fingertips lightly over her belly.

Blake chuckles under her breath, still not opening her eyes. “No … but I’m beginning to think every part of your body is amazing, Bryce Lahela.” She turned her head to face him, her gaze dropping his prominent erection pressed against her thigh. “Although there is one part I have yet to to prove this theory with.”

“Well I would hate to stand in the way of your research.” He flashes her a sly smirk, his heart rate already speeding up at the thought of what comes next.

Rolling to her side she presses her mouth to his, sliding a hand under the edge of his boxer briefs and wrapping it around his cock. Bryce moaned, his grip tightening and fingers digging into her hip as she started stroking him up and down, his hips moving in sync with her rhythm. Blake pushed him to lay down, pulling down his boxers and throwing them to the floor. Locking eyes with him, she lowered her head to start placing soft, wet kisses along his hips and across his abdomen, inching closer and closer to where he wanted her the most before backing off with a smug grin. After teasing him three times, Bryce released a short exhaling grunt. “Reyes … you’re killing me he-“ His complaint was cut short as Blake took him in her mouth, the vibrations of her laughter only adding to the extreme pleasure. “Ah fuuuuucccckkkk …”

With his fingers laced in her hair, she slid her lips up and down, up and down and again over his cock. She relished the feel of him pulsing every time she tickled the head with the tip of her tongue, the salty taste of his precum filling her mouth. One hand was situated at the base massaging whatever portion of his significant length could not fit in her mouth, while the other lightly caressed his balls, her coordinated ministrations overwhelming his senses. It didn’t take long before Bryce was thrusting his hips to meet her mouth, the warm wet sensation causing the pressure to build in his pelvis.

Placing a hand on her shoulder, he gently pushed her away, his eyes still closed and his teeth gritted as he forced himself to stop. “You’re way too good at that, and I’m afraid if you keep going you won’t be able to properly complete your research.” He released one last long exhale, then finally looked over to find her smiling at him. He pulled her tight against his torso, rolling her to her back as he settled between her legs, his eyes flickering with both heat and affection as he beamed into her face. “Besides, I’ve been looking forward to this view.” He felt Blake sigh against his lips as they met hers, her body melting into his as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

He slid inside of her, her warmth enveloping him in the most erotic and comforting way he hadn’t realized was possible. She wrapped her legs around his waist, holding him close as they started moving in tandem. Taking their time, Bryce took this moment to study her features, brushing his thumb gently across her cheek and eliciting a soft smile on her lips that stirred something deep inside of him. His hand founds hers gripping his shoulder, and he laced his fingers through hers, the intimate gesture stoking the heat in her gaze. She tilted her chin up to meet him in a kiss, her wanton moan filling his mouth as her tongue slipped past the seams of his lips. Feeling her moving eagerly beneath him, Bryce braced himself with her clasped hand above her head, giving him the additional leverage to roll his hips faster against hers.

Before long their slow, tender motion had morphed into frantic, heated thrusts. Bryce used his free hand to cup the back of her thigh, pulling her leg up to gain him additional access as his pelvis pounded against hers. He tried to focus on her, to stave off the aching desire for release inside himself while he waited for her to climax again. Just as he felt his willpower failing her body start quivering, her raspy moans signaling her impending orgasm. When the dam finally burst, he felt her core flutter around his cock, his name spilling from her lips as she found her release. Bryce tumbled over the edge with her, the pulsing of her walls around him drawing his own orgasm. After a few more thrusts, his body stilled as he emptied himself inside of her.

“Damn, Blake …” he mumbled, his word muffled on his lips smashed into her shoulder where he had collapsed on the bed.

“Yeah I know.” She breathes out loudly, the drowsy euphoria obvious in her tone. “I think all of your anatomical bits are in prime working order.”

“Good to know. My mother will be so proud.” He chuckled, leaning back on his side and perching himself up on one elbow. “So, was the housewarming party everything you wanted it to be?”

“I think it went really well, actually.” Blake turned face him, laying her head on her arm as she pulled a sheet up to cover herself. “Although if I’m completely honest, I enjoyed this private party even more.”

“I’m available to entertain any night of the week, but reservations fill up fast.” Bryce wiggled his eyebrows playfully until Blake swatted at him, causing him to lift his arms to shield himself in defense. “Kidding, kidding!”

“You better be kidding.” She giggled, her smile warm as she took his hand in hers. “But regardless, please be sure to pencil me in for several nights a week if your schedule will allow it.”

Bryce grinned widely as he dipped his head, his lips hovering mere inches above hers. “I’m at your beck and call, Reyes.” And when his lips met hers, all joking was quickly forgotten.

END

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Special thanks to @walkerismychoice for sharing a few screenshots of dialogue that I missed.

Perma-Tag: @abbiebishops @akrenich @alesana45 @asprankle @bella-ca @blackcatkita @blackwidow2721 @boneandfur @catlady0911 @choicesarehard @choiceslife @choicessa @choiceswreckedme @client-327 @cocomaxley @crookedslimecreatorpasta @darley1101 @debramcg1106 @domainoflostsouls @drakelover78 @drakewalker04 @eileendannie @enmchoices @flowerpowell @gardeningourmet @harlequinash @harrington-sinclaire @hopefulmoonobject @indescribablechoices @indiacater @innerpostmentality @jadedpixiescribbles @lizeboredom @lolablackwrites @marikagia @mfackenthal @mrsnazariowrites @ritachacha @romancehereicome @sawyeroakleyscowboyhat @simplyaiden-blog @snyggflicka @stopforamoment @sweetfluffyunicorn18 @tabithacarlisle @the-everlasting-dream @thequeenofcronuts @walkerismychoice @wickedgypsymoon @writtenbycandy

OH (Bryce) Tags: @aworldoffandoms @divergentofhogwarts @halcyonhaarry @keira1416 @mariamulroney @simsvetements @timecanaryy

#dr. bryce lahela #bryce lahela #bryce x mc #open heart #n*fw #tmarie82 fanfic

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andyridgeley · 4 years

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tagged by @wolfsansastark thank you, dear!!!

Which avenger would you recruit to help you plan your birthday? probably tony stark he’d throw a rager

Which avenger would you switch suits with for a day? peter i wanna be spidey!!

Which avenger would you want to train with? natasha and clint!! i feel like they’d know how to train others well

Oh No, you need help! Which avenger would you call if you’re in trouble? probably scott i feel like he knows how to get out of a bad situation

The Avengers are playing basketball, which avenger would you pick first to be on your team? maybe clint ...... he always hits his target i feel like he’d be good with a basketball

Uh oh, you got arrested, which avenger were you with? sam and bucky, maybe??? i feel like you could get into some fun trouble with those two

You’re trying to make your ex jealous, which avenger do you pretend to date? steve because i’d want to hangout and go out to dinner with him anyway it’d be good

You’re out for a good time, and need a wing man/woman, which avenger do you pick for the job? i feel like i’m answering a lot of these questions with scott but i’d want scott as a wingman :’)

You woke up with a hangover, which avenger were you drunk with? probably thor or bucky ... most likely thor because i’m a lightweight and he’d be scREAMING ANOTHER!!!!!!!

You’re going on a road trip, which avenger do you ride with? SCOTT!!! i feel like he’d be up for making playlists and singing a lot and getting good snacks

No way! You slept with one of the avengers. Which avenger did you wake up next to? if this were to happen (it wouldn’t) but it would’ve been steve i mean ... how could i resist america’s ass???

Your favorite band is having a concert, which avenger goes with you? SCOTT AND THOR!!!!!!!!!!!!!! scott and i would each sit on one of his shoulders so we can see we’re smol

You’re going shopping, and need second opinions, which avenger do you trust to help you pick out outfits? probably wanda and vision i’d want both of them to style me especially wanda THANKS!!

Your parents want to meet one of your new friends, which avenger do you take to meet your parents? for sure peter!!!! he’s too good and pure

You get injured on a mission, which avenger would you trust to be in charge of your care? maybe steve?? i think he’d be good at calming me down

Your room is a mess, which avenger do you pick to be your butler, and clean your room? probably tony because he’d invent something for me and then we could just chill and watch tv and eat popcorn while it cleans up our rooms

You wanna play a prank on the team, but need help. Which avenger do you pick to help you prank the rest of the team? SCOTT!! SCOTT!! SCOTT!! SCOTT!!

Time to buy Christmas presents, which avenger is the easiest for you to buy for? i feel like steve would be fun to buy for i’d just go to vintage and antique shops and he’d love anything i would get him

You’re going on a mission but only one other person can go. Which member of the team do you choose to go with you? i’d probably go with scott!! he’d be so much fun one on one and he’s quick on his feet too, it’d be good!!

tagging: @thedapperdemon @scudismystud and anyone else that wants to go for it!!

#this was fun but difficult!!!#i had it saved as a draft for a few days and kept adding to it slowly but surely alksdjflk #personal thingys

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pagesuponstpages · 6 years

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one running dog, two spilt drinks & three times meeting again

warnings: brief mentions of alcohol & tabloid magazines

word count: +1.8k

synopsis: the three times that you run into ashton, and almost every time forgetting to introduce yourselves.

a/n: happy valentine’s day! and surprise @crystalisinfinite ! i’m your valentine (!!!) and it was such a pleasure to be chatting and writing things for you! this is technically my first time writing with second person so sorry if it’s bad but I hope you enjoy it ♥️ (also sorry again that it’s kinda late and barely valentine’s day lol) also tagging @killerlukesqueen cause it was her valentine’s swaps (ty for setting up all of this)

The first time you met Ashton, it wasn’t the best time.

You were running late, they messed up your order at the cafe and to top it off, the dog that you were pet sitting for your neighbor Karoline, who was gonna be out of town for the next four days, was much faster at running than what Karoline had said. Ergo, you slammed into a body, spilling all of your drink over them, and Karoline’s dog, Sadie took off, the leesh trailing behind her.

“Sadie! Come back here!” you shouted, desperately hoping that the dog would turn around and sit patiently for you to clean up the mess that you’ve made.

“I don’t think she’s coming back,” he said, bemused. You refocused back on the dude that had your iced chocolate spilled all over his shirt, nearly soaking through his entire shirt.

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry!” You grabbed the three napkins from your pants pocket, offering them to him, hesitating. If it had been someone you knew, you would be trying to dab the stains out immediately. But now, with this handsome stranger, you had some restraint.

“Nah, you’re good,” he said. You dropped the now empty plastic cup into the trash, that was conveniently nearby the two of you. “And to be fair, I spilled my iced coffee on you too.” That’s why your shirt was sticking to your skin.

“God, I’m gonna be late,” you groaned, checking your wristwatch at the time. You maybe had enough time to head back to your apartment to wash up before you would drop off Sadie to the daycare, and barely make it to work on time. “Hey, I’m really sorry, and I’ll pay you back for the coffee, but I need to find Sadie before I inexplicably lose my job.”

“Woah, woah,” he said, raising his eyebrows, “I’ll help you find Sadie, and I should be paying you back, since I ran into you.” You shook your head.

“No, I won’t let you.” Your phone dinged, taking your attention.

unknown number:

hi. I think I found your dog?

omg! thank you!

I’m still in the park, by the greek.

will be there in 3. thank you again

You nearly praised the heavens, seeing that text. Then you almost forgot about the guy.

“Listen, I gotta run, but thanks for the offer!” And you sped off, before he could say another word.

The second time you met, it was in a target.

You were getting your weekly groceries (and maybe a couple of extra things) at the ungodly hours of the morning, just because hardly anyone would be there. Not that going to target a few hours later from now was bad, it just wasn’t ideal, especially when other ladies and moms alike would stare at you funny for having too many chip bags in your cart and wearing sweats with slides.

It was at the produce section, you debating if it was worth the extra 1.89 for getting an avocado over the regular salad mix in your futile attempts to have a healthier diet (and also to show any judging cashiers or judging moms that you did not eat just chips and instant ramen even though you totally did).

“Dog walker?” You spin around, to see him grinning at you, the red basket in hand.

“Coffee boy?” He looked at you with raised eyebrows.

“I’m a boy?” You snorted, turning back to your avocados and salad mix.

“Sure why not,” you grumbled under your breath. It was at this point that you were silently thinking through eeney-miney-moe, because decision making? Who was she?

“Get the avocados, they’re healthier than the salad mix that’s mostly full of sugar from the toppings.” You hesitated, before grabbing two avocados and gently placing them in the cart, next to the two chip bags you picked up earlier.

The two of you continued to walk down the produce aisle, which consisted of Ashton mostly recommending something probably green and definitely healthy but also totally over your budget.

“Are you a dietitian? Or a trainer?” You said suddenly, while he was picking up a bunch of kale. You presumed so, as he was clad in a hoodie, basketball shorts and slides, along with the food advice that he’d been giving you for the past 10 minutes.

“Nah,” he chuckled, “I just like to keep up a healthy diet, especially cause my life kinda crazy and it doesn’t give me much options at 1 am.” You nodded, following him to the dairy section.

“At least you’re better than me, I would eat all the taco bell and mcdonalds if I would be eating at 1 am.” He laughed, tilting his head back.

“You’re just like Cal and Mikey,” he said, shaking his head. You raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for an explanation. There were a few beats of silence, save for the whirr of nearby shopping carts and the faint pop chart music playing in the background.

“Cal and Mikey..” you trailed. He looked up from the container of greek yogurt, his eyes studying your face.

“Oh right,” he said, nodding. “Cal and Mikey are my best friends, and we work at the same place.” You tilted your head, waiting for more. He put the greek yogurt into the basket, before continuing.

“And we all end up finishing around 2 am, but Luke and I planned ahead with healthy snacks and salads and shit, while those two would order from postmates from the limited choices at 2 am.”

“And I would join them,” you followed, without any pause. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“But now you don’t have to! Cause I’m changing your meal plan!” He pointed at the items in your cart. “Well, except for those,” he said, mentioning the noticeable chip bags and sleeves of cookies that were next to everything else that he had helped in choosing, “those were there before I got here.”

Shopping continued, along with you convincing him to put a doritos bag and a package of oreos (abit the thin ones, but hey you tried with the double stuf at first), because “you never know when your friends hang out at your place and to their disappointment, all you have are booze and kale chips.” You both checked out in the same line, reading the titles of the gossip rags in hushed yet mocking tones.

“Jennifer Aniston with another man?!”

“Kendall Jenner takes another spill on the road?!”

And then, after he helped you put your groceries in the trunk of your car, he waved you off, both of you completely forgetting to get each other’s number. Or even each other’s names.

The third time you ran into Ashton, it was at a party.

Your friend, Karoline had dragged you to said party, because “you don’t go out enough,” and to be fair you haven’t but she didn’t know that admission.

The party was at a club in downtown LA, the name leaving you, but it was three things that were seemingly the worst combination: dark, loud, and full of absolutely smashed people.

“Why do we have to still be here?” you said, whining. Karoline shrugged, handing you another drink.

“Because it’s part of my work and I’m dying up here.” Oh yeah.

Karoline’s work had always thrown wild parties, filled with the social elite of the city and those trying to climb to that position. The record label that Karoline was apart of always had “some excuse” to throw these wild ragers, usually along the lines of some artist that they produced had reached number one in the nation.

“I’m gonna find something to eat.” You got up from your spot from the barstool tables scattered on the edges of the dancefloor, your eyes searching for those promised tables of fancy hors d'oeuvres that she would always rave about the following day, hungover in your apartment.

Once you found said table, surprisingly still full of different finger food with names that you could barely pronounce, you nearly tripped into the lined up pastries, due to someone bumping into you.

“Sorry,” he said, with a voice garbled in the loud atmosphere, yet oddly familiar.

“It’s alright,” you said. He turned around, nearly spilling his drink all over you.

“Dog walker!” he said, his eyes lighting up as he recognized your face.

“Coffee boy!” you replied, trying to say it with the same amount of enthusiasm as he did.

“Coffee boy?” someone said, now standing next to him. He had dyed blond hair, with his dark roots and scruffy eyebrows, staring at you with a smirk.

“He spilled coffee on me,” you said, hoping to give some explanation. The blond boy’s eyes widened in recognition, a grin spreading on his face. “So you’re dog walker with the same terrible eating habits as me.” Then it clicked.

“Mikey, is it?” He shook his head.

“That’s Cal,” Ashton said, “and the other two are somewhere else.” You nodded.

“Wow, so you guys work for Capitol Records?” Cal snorted, while Ashton took a gulp of his drink.

“You didn’t tell her?” You stared at the two of them, watching them have a internal conversation filled with head nods and shrugs, waiting for an explanation.

“I didn’t see the need to,” Ashton finally said. Cal sighed, shaking his head.

“I’m gonna find Luke,” he said. The combination of names, the ones he mentioned at target coupled with the knowledge that they all worked together at Capitol Records ticked something in your head, but maybe it was the alcohol and lack of food that prevented you from making the full conclusion.

“I’m Ash,” he said, extending his hand out. You giggled, shaking his hand, as you said your own. He then repeated it, and something between a smirk and a grin was slowly spreading on his lips.

“And you do?” He shakily laughed, tilting his head down.

“I’m a drummer, for a band,” Ashton said, meeting your eyes. You raised an eyebrow. “Might I know of said band?” you questioned the red-haired drummer.

“I’m only slightly offended that you have all the pieces, but haven’t connected the dots yet.”

“I’m kinda tipsy and I mostly listen to indie or alternative artists?”You shrugged.

Ashton shook his head, smiling. “The boys and I are in a pop punk turned alt pop band, called 5SOS?” His voice got progressively higher, his demenour much more tense than moments ago, or even the other two times that you two had run into each other.

“Never heard of them,” you said immediately, watching his expression change with raised eyebrows and a smirk.

“You’re truly something,” he said, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Nah, I’m just me. And here for the free fancy-pants food.” He barked in laughter.

“Of course you are.”

#this was fun to write #ashton irwin fluff #ashton irwin fanfic #ashton irwin #5sosff #5sos imagine #5sos #luke hemmings #calum hood #michael clifford #also i technically need to edit this but oh well hope it's decent #5 seconds of summer #ashton fletcher irwin #ashton irwin imagine #happy valentine's day #klq's valentine's swaps #my writing #content creation

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thephantomofthe-internet · 6 years

Text

Ebrius (Eros p.t. 9)

Billy Hargrove x Reader, Jonathan Byers x Reader (Unrequited)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Word Count: 5043

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking, sexuality? idk on that one

Permanent Tag List: @hotstuffhargrove @steveharringtonofficial @denimjacketkisses @flamehairedwritings @hargroovin

Series Tag: @hargrovesgoldilocks @xicarcalii @wtf-richarddd @sighsophiia @baebee35 @ijustwantahugfromtennant @rhyxn @wearemightyghosts @toriasaysso @random-stupid-stuffs @so-not-hotmess @warsintothestars @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @angellastor @swangobsessed

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One the eve of Valerie’s epic bash, the whole school was aflutter with excitement, building a chaotic energy you’d never really felt apart of until now. Now, you felt what everyone else was feeling. And you weren’t into it.

Sure, it was kind of exciting-you weren’t usually personally invited to these sorts of things, and Valerie was making sure you felt as included as possible, especially when Billy was around. But it was also kind of tiring, the whole thing was looking to be a social nightmare and Valerie was hyping it up to be full on rager, which only made you nervous rather than excited.

“So anyway, here’s what I’m thinking-you come over to my place around four tomorrow, bring all your stuff, and we’ll make you into a glamour queen, alright?” Valerie asked that lunch, leaning over the table on her elbows, her legs pulled under her.

“Um sure, if that’s what you want.” You replied, fiddling with your baby carrots.

“And you,” she turned to Billy “You better show up on time, I don’t want you up showing me at my own party, you’ll make your entrance with me, alright?” she instructed, jabbing a finger into his chest.

Billy smirked, slinking an arm around her waist and pulling her tightly to him, looking down at her with a passion so bright and hot it could rival the sun. “Whatever you say baby…” he muttered, grabbing her by the chin and pulling her lips roughly to his. He looked desperate and needy, which made perfect sense seeing as how she’d been skirting his advances for weeks.

Billy had confided in you that it went beyond lunch periods. According to him, she’d been ignoring his calls and cancelling plans for weeks, meaning he hadn’t gotten any except from his right hand, which was nowhere near as good as it would be from Valerie. He was tense and irritable, which made him a nuisance to be around. But Valerie softened him, even when she wasn’t putting out.

“Bill!” she cried “You’re gonna mess up my lipstick!” Billy rolled his eyes, turning his attention to her bare neck, peppering it with kisses and bites until she pushed him off with a scoff and an eye roll, looking to you as though you’d understand. You put a spoonful of yogurt into your mouth, making a face that felt like it agreed with hers.

Billy turned back to you, grumbling to himself under his breath about being bored. You let your eyes wander, around the room and they landed on a tiny boy who was staring at you. He was a junior, skinny and pale and hopelessly gawking. At first you were flattered, you smiled, raising your eyebrows at him. But he didn’t react at all. It took a moment to realize that he wasn’t looking at you, he was staring at Valerie. And Valerie was staring back, equally awestruck and shy.

He was looking at Valerie. And Valerie was looking back. This could be a recipe for trouble.

On Friday afternoon, right after lunch, Valerie dragged you out of the cafeteria by the arm, her nails digging into your arm so hard you swore it would bruise you, and out to your car.

“You brought your stuff, right?” she asked, pulling open your side door and climbing in.

“No, I didn’t think I’d be leaving now, I thought I was meeting you at your place later.” You replied, following suit.

“Well I decided that we’d need more time. Stop at your place on the way.” Valerie replied shortly, crossing her arms over her chest, annoyed.

“Where do you live?” you asked nervously. You knew Valerie was rich, her dad was like a high powered lawyer and her mother was the youngest, most babied of a rich family. If your instincts were right, you and she lived in different subsections of Hawkins.

“1545 Autumn Road, why?” she replied. You sighed; your instincts were very correct.

“You and I live in opposite directions, I live up near Billy.” You replied.

Valerie’s eyes narrowed “I don’t know where that is, I’ve never been to his place.” She said.

“Oh, well I live up near Melvald’s, so we’ll have to head up that way first, is that alright?” you asked.

Valerie nodded, examining her nails “Sure, I have to pick up an order there anyway, we’ll stop in after you get your stuff, alright?” she said. You nodded, turning on the ignition and backing out of the full parking lot.

Bringing Valerie to your house was nerve wracking. You hadn’t had anyone over since your mom first got sick. Now, not only did you have someone stopping at your house, she didn’t know what was happening. You drove slowly, abiding all the laws you’d usually ignore. You could tell Valerie was more than a little annoyed, but she didn’t say anything.

When you pulled into your driveway, the embarrassment hit you like a flour bomb in the face. The planters your father had insisted would help your mother get out of the house, which had failed spectacularly and been abandoned on the front porch. The lawn was uncut and brown, mainly because you hadn’t done it and nobody else would. The American flag hanging over the garage was tattered on the end, dirty, and faded. You looked dirty and trashy. Still, you took a breath and held your head high, turning to Valerie “I’ll just be a second, alright?”

She unbuckled her seatbelt, smiling sweetly “I’ll come in, if you don’t mind.” She replied, opening her door, not waiting for an answer.

You sighed, following her quickly. You hoped your mother was asleep or otherwise distracted. You unlocked the door, stepping over the threshold into the dark, suddenly infinitely more dusty entry way.

“I’ll just head upstairs, make yourself at home.” You said, rushing up the stairs and into your room.

“Y/N? Is that you?” a weak voice called. Your mother was peeking out of her room, still clad in her floral housedress, dirty from not being changed in days.

“Yeah mom, just grabbing some stuff!” you called back, grabbing the untouched bags and shoving them onto your wrists, nearly tripping over the pile of books in the corner by your closet, cursing your lack of space. “I’m, ugh, going out tonight, I won’t be home till late, okay? Tell dad not to worry.”

“Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N!” Valerie called from downstairs, her voice sickeningly polite. And you swore you heard her gasp, which made your heart drop. You burst out of your room as you saw your mother inch down the stairs, running her fingers through her grey streaked, uncombed hair.

“Hello? Did I hear someone down here?” she asked, her voice finding a cheery, false tone.

Valerie turned, placing the chipped, dusty bird figurine back into the ring of clean table it occupied, covering it. “Oh hello, I’m Valerie you must be Mrs. Y/L/N, it’s lovely to meet you.” She said with a fake smile.

It was like watching a car crash. Your mother was five seconds from disassociating or bursting into tears and Valerie was already taking notes on how to destroy you if she needed to.

“Oh, please call me Marie, all of Y/N’s friends do. I haven’t heard of you before, you must be new.” She replied, reaching out a pale, shaky hand to shake hers.

“Well yeah, I’m Billy’s girlfriend.” She replied, taking hers and shaking it roughly.

“Who?” your mother asked, turning to you, growing more and more embarrassed by the moment.

You stepped onto the step above hers, placing a hand on her shoulders, squeezing it reassuringly “Remember, Billy ma? I mentioned him last night, he’s my buddy from history class.” You said, smiling softly.

“Oh, right…yes I remember…” she said vaguely.

“Can I borrow your gold hoops?” you asked, already leading her upstairs. She nodded again and you turned to Valerie, holding up your index finger, mouthing ‘one minute’.

You led her into her room and to her bed, opening up the ruffled sheets and allowing her to get in again, warm tears flowing down her face.

“You did really good, mama…” you whispered, pulling the blankets up again.

“You’re embarrassed of me…” she muttered, looking up with you angry eyes.

“No, I’m not, mom. I love you and I want you to meet my friends, but not when you’re not ready, when you don’t know it’s happening.” You replied firmly, grabbing the remote and flicking the channel off of Soap and onto the news.

“You’re ashamed of me…you hate me…” you mother mumbled.

“I don’t hate you, I love you mom, I honestly do.” You said, kissing your forehead “You know I love you. I have to go, but you should call daddy, maybe he can come home and sit with you for awhile, would you like that?”

She nodded vaguely and you rushed to pick up the phone, dialling the number you knew off by heart. He picked up on the first ring.

“Hello?” he asked nervously when the call was patched over to him.

“Hi dad, how’s work?” you asked, smiling at your mother.

“What’s going on, why are you home?” he asked nervously.

“Oh, I just stopped in, nothing major.” You replied, turning away to mumble into the receiver “I think we might have a situation here, I have to go back to school, can you come home, make sure she stays okay.”

“Yes, of course, I’ll be there in five.” He said.

“Okay, should I stay or…” you asked.

“No, no, head back, don’t miss class.” He said. You nodded, saying quick goodbyes and kissing your mother on the forehead again, promising that your father was on his way. You ran down the stairs, grabbing Valerie by the arm and pulling her out the door.

“Is she alright?” Valerie asked.

“Fine.” You snapped pulling open the door and turning on the ignition, backing out quickly, causing Valerie’s body to slap the back of the seat. You arrived at Melvald’s in less than five minutes.

“Wait here.” She said and you didn’t push to follow behind, you much preferred the silence. You felt your body decompress, stress oozing from your pores. She returned a few moments later, but by then you were back to functioning, worry playing like static in the very back of your mind. You drove normally to Valerie’s house, returning to your normal state again.

Valerie’s house was huge, a near mansion with fake marble and too much white to feel appropriate for a crazy high school party. Valerie led you upstairs to her room, a giant space painted light purple and coated in posters and art. She had a giant, plush mattress and a big vanity fit for a Broadway theatre, complete with the big white blubs as its border. You dropped your bags on her bed and she put hers on the vanity, pulling out its contents.

The box of at-home perm made your skin crawl.

“Okay, so the first thing we’re gonna do is perm your hair.” Valerie said, grabbing the box and heading towards the bathroom attached to her room.

“Oh ugh I don’t know…” you replied, your feet sticking to the floor as though it was flypaper.

“If you hate it, a shower will destroy it. Let’s just try, okay?” she said comfortingly and you nodded, swallowing your fear and walking in, sitting in the chair she’d set up for you.

The process took over an hour. First, your hair was soaked and dried a bit before being combed out. Then, she rolled your hair into wide rollers, securing them on your head. Then your hair was coated in perm solution, which stunk like chemicals and burned your nose. You felt the headache forming the second the tight rollers were secured in your hair and the smell only made it worse. It didn’t help that Valerie had started talking once you sat down and hadn’t stopped.

When it was finally time, she forced your head under the shower head, rinsing it for three minutes. She dried it with the hair dyer and then applied the neutralizer, which had to sit for ten minutes and smelt vaguely like coconuts. Then again under the shower head, dried, and the rods were removed.

And when it was all done, you looked like Shirley fucking Temple.

You sighed “See? I look awful…”

Valerie rolled her eyes “We’re not gonna leave it this way, duh!” she said. You looked up at her with a quirked brow, making her eyes widen “You didn’t know that?” she shook your head, making her gasp. “Oh my God! I can totally teach you how to make this look hot! Let’s give it a bit of time to relax, you can help me get the this place safe for a party, Jodie and Carol are coming over to set up later, but we need to move all the breakable shit before they get here.

And so you spent the afternoon hiding expensive vases and paintings that could be easily splashed or knocked down. You rolled up the white rugs and locked away the fine china. When you were finished, the house looked ready to party and you felt a tiny bit sweaty.

Valerie pulled you back into her room, and after much digging through bags and her closet, she pulled a clean white tank top from her closet and the tiny, pleated yellow skirt from your bags. She covered you in a robe and pulled you back into the bathroom.

“Okay, so nobody wear’s a perm the way in comes out naturally, we always style them. So what you’re gonna do is take a round brush or a teasing comb and tease the curls out to make them bigger, then spray it with hairspray to hold it. I like the Farrah Fawcett spray, because it adds and holds volume, but you can find whatever you like once you figure out what works for you.” She explained, making your curls into big, ratty waves that framed your face and made you look like an extra in a Madonna video. But you liked it. It made you feel older and more mature, like you were actually pretty.

“I taught Steve Harrington the same thing when he grew out his hair, he owes his flawless hair to me.” Valerie said cockily and you giggled at the idea of King Steve in your place, nervous and awkward and not nearly as handsome as he wanted to be.

“Alright and we’re done! You look better already, Y/N.” she said and you found yourself nodding along with her. It was almost seven now and while you hadn’t eaten yet, you found that you weren’t hungry. You were excited, which was a rarity for these types of parties.

“Let’s paint your face.” She said, leading you back out into her bedroom and sitting down at her vanity.

Of course, she did her own face first, leaving you to sit bored on her bed. So now you were sitting in Vicki’s pastel purple bedroom on her memory foam bed, watching her at her vanity mirror, the bed white theatrical bulbs that surrounded the mirror casting harsh light on your face as she painted on her bright makeup, smirking at her reflection.

“So what are we gonna do to your face, Y/N?” she asked, brushing sharp angles on blush on her cheeks.

“Oh I don’t know, something simple. I don’t think I could ever rock the colours you do.” You replied smoothly, watching her puff up like a peacock. You didn’t have the heart to tell her that she looked like wild parrot instead of the Cyndi Lauper inspired makeup she was going for.

“Oh come on! Live a little! I promise I’ll try to tone it down a bit for you, can we compromise to that?” she asked, pursing her lips to apply rich purple lipstick.

You sighed “Alright, but I demand a veto in case I hate it.” You agreed and Valerie squealed, pulling you into the chair and turning it to hide you from the mirror. She spent another hour painted you into some sort of beauty queen and by the time she was done, Billy was knocking on the door, Jodie and Carol making a ruckus in the downstairs area.

“You decent?” Billy called, bounding up the stairs.

Valerie chuckled “We’re covered up if that’s what you mean.” She replied. Billy pushed the door open, and as usual your heart skipped a beat, your eyes involuntarily flicked to the closed door.

“Now don’t look into the mirror until I say so, okay, I want it to be a surprise.” She whispered as Billy knocked on the door. Valerie opened it quickly, revealing herself and opening her arms, pulling him to her and allowing him to thoroughly mess up her lipstick.

“Happy birthday baby.” He whispered against her lips and she smirked, covering his eyes with her tiny hand “What’re you doing, babe?” he muttered, a smirk spreading across his face.

She led him forward, gesturing you to stand up straighter and when he was in position, she screamed “Ta dah!”, pulling her hand off his eyes and revealed your dolled up self. After hours of Valerie poking and prodding you, you’d transformed into a new person from the top of your perm to your sparkly pointed heels.

Billy didn’t like it.

His stare burned into you as he looked you over, trying to decipher what exactly made him cringe so much. It wasn’t that you looked bad, you always looked pretty and Valerie certainly didn’t make you look bad, but it looked off. It was as though he was staring into the uncanny valley-everything was technically right but something was off and it made it all look wrong. Then, it hit him. You looked like Valerie. She’d painted you into her twin.

“What, is it that bad?” you asked awkwardly, your smile slipping just a little.

“You look good, kid.” He said gruffly , slapping your shoulder. You stumbled just a little, unsure how to react.

“Thanks…” you muttered, stepping forward to finally look at yourself.

You looked…wrong. No wonder why Billy looked so startled by you. Caked in colours and draped in skimpy fabrics, you felt different. But, despite Billy’s reaction, it felt good, even right. You liked the way it looked, you felt more adult and certainly prettier than normal. You wouldn’t do it every day, but a night like tonight it felt fitting.

Valerie’s mood dropped significantly, watching you two shuffle about. You looked shakily confident, like a deer taking its first steps. You were an innocent, painted into someone’s personal Lolita, desperate for some acknowledgement. But Billy looked sick to his stomach looking at you. It was as though his world was flipped upside down.

He looked to Valerie, his eyes training over her, but he didn’t feel the same burning, unstoppable lust. He felt empty, hollow inside. His brain started to run wild, filled with intrusive thoughts. Suddenly, Valerie seemed less wonderful, less rare. He started to question if Valerie really was special. But that was crazy-Billy loved Valerie. He loved her. Sure, he hadn’t told her yet, but he planned to. All of this was just caused by his never ending horniness, which Valerie hadn’t been helping much with.

“You did a great job, babe.” Billy said, kissing her on the cheek, an arm slinking around her bare mid-drift. “You finally made Y/N look like a girl.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes, trying to muffle a tiny smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth. Billy was happy, he like the way you looked, he wasn’t horrified by the change that you were still getting used to. Billy was the only person you were trying to impress and you’d succeeded.

“Oh hush, Bill, you’re gonna hurt her feelings.” Valerie groaned, turning to you “You look incredible, Y/N, Byers will finally realize what he missed out on when he sees you.”

“Freak Byers is coming tonight?” Billy growled.

“Probably, Nancy Wheeler is gonna be here, Luce told me that her and Stacy were talking about it in calc.” Valerie replied easily.

“Y/N, stay away from him, alright? He’s only gonna fuck with your head and you deserve better.” He snapped, pointing at you.

You rolled you eyes “Val, you should’ve never taken him to see Sixteen Candles, now he thinks I’m some desperate, clingy crazy loser played by Molly Ringwald.” You chuckled, earning a laugh from her and a scoff from Billy, who refused to look at you. “I’m fine, okay? I’m over him, I’m happy for Nance, and I won’t be talking to him if he shows tonight, which is highly unlikely. According to Nancy, his baby brother’s sick. I doubt he’d come to this when he could be there with him.”

Billy had zoned out, but when you stopped talking he nodded, shoving a cigarette in his mouth. Valerie snatched it from his lips, pocketing it. “No smoking in my room! You know that!” she exclaimed. Billy rolled his eyes, heading for the door.

“We should head down there, this shit’s about to start.” Valerie said with a sigh, leading you out of the room. Carol and Jodie had started the music and found the liquor.

Upon seeing you, both Carol and Jodie seemed utterly shocked by your new look. They seemed almost proud of you, finally finding your footing after years of being an ugly duckling. Now, you were a swan.

It almost felt nice.

By ten thirty, the whole house was blasting. Teenagers were crawling everywhere, inebriated and sloppy. The giant living was filled with people dancing to whatever pop hits Carol had decided suited the event. There were plastic cups and spilled drinks everywhere, the floor was horribly sticking. Every corner was filled with people drunkenly making out and groping one another. You felt oddly alone.

You’d noticed the other sore thumbs. Tina Presley, the usual centre of attention, was playing wallflower, watching the crowds with sad eyes, her crush of the week, Anthony Michaels, was dancing with Lucy Pierce instead of her. Carol and Tommy had gotten into one of their epic fights, because Tommy was tonguing Amanda Pearson and got caught. Steve Harrington had shown up, his face broken up with cuts and bruises, both eyes ringed with deep purple and blue. He looked to be mostly having fun, drinking heavily and grinding on Vicki Matthews like it was his job. He seemed to have lost the last bits of his inhibitions, trying to drink away some memory and nearly getting into a scuffle with Billy upon running into one another. He looked broken, but trying to overcompensate with easy fun. If you two actually tolerated one another, you would’ve gone over to check on him.

You’d spent most of the night thus far dancing like you actually knew how. Your proverbial dance card had been full all night, being grabbed by different girls to giggle and jump around and finding different boys junk pressed against your front or behind. It was fun, you felt wanted which was an odd, exhilarating feeling that rushed through your veins and filled you with adrenaline.

You’d been watching Nancy subtly out of the corner of your eye, mainly because Stacy wasn’t. She, just like Steve, had decided to drink herself into a stupor and now was fighting with Jonathan, who was distressingly sober, and he wasn’t fighting back.

Suddenly, Nancy pushed away from Jonathan, breaking through the crowd and grabbing Steve by the face, kissing him like his life depended on it. He seemed shocked, hell you felt shocked. But as Steve kissed her back, Jonathan just sighed, turning away from her.

And you found yourself following behind him.

“Jonathan! Wait up!” you called, causing his to look back just for a moment, his sadness breaking apart his face as you caught up to him and brought him outside, sitting with him on the front porch.

“Y/N…” Jonathan muttered, looking away from you, his gaze dropping to his hands, folded in his lap.

“What the fuck was that?” you muttered breathlessly “I thought they broke up, I thought you two…”

“So did I…” he replied. “I think she is just afraid of change, I mean it’s been a lot for her, after all of this semester has been rough on us.”

“That’s not an excuse…” you replied “Look, Nancy told me that your brother is sick, if that means that Nancy needs to cheat on you to cope, then she’s not a good person.”

“Steve…must be comforting to her or something…” he replied, shaking his head.

You leaned in, taking his hand in yours. “You don’t have to make excuses for her.” You told him. He finally looked at you, nodding softly. You held his gaze for a moment and you swore you saw a flash in his eyes. You’d heard Steve call it ‘the electricity’, but all you felt was an odd emptiness. His eyes flicked to your lips and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Before you could really react, his lips were on yours.

It was a lot softer than kissing Billy, definitely more tentative. You didn’t have much experience in the field, but this was definitely nice. A bit dull, but as you moved closer to him, pressing your hand onto his thigh, you felt oddly at peace. It wasn’t bad, it wasn’t earth stopping-you could easily do this for the rest of the night.

“Byers!” someone snapped, making Jonathan pull away and you groan. Billy had found you. “Go and find your own fucking girlfriend, leave Y/N alone.” He growled and Jonathan rolled his eyes, pushing himself up and brushing off his jeans.

“I’ll see you around, Y/N.” he muttered with a soft smile and you nodded, watching him go. Billy rolled his eyes, motioning for you to follow him back inside, which you did with a tight frown.

“I thought you weren’t gonna see him tonight.” Billy growled, not looking at you as he spoke.

“Changed my mind.” You replied coarsely “Go bug someone else for awhile, yeah?”

Billy scoffed, but marched off, finding Valerie and planted the biggest, most over the top kiss on her. For a split second, you swore he was doing it to bother you, but then the weight of your insignificance hit you and you found yourself slinking away, finding another drink and another dance partner.

Billy couldn’t stand seeing you kiss Byers; it put a fire in the pit of his stomach and made him want to punch out the wiry kid. You were too good for him. God, you were too good for him. You were loving and sweet and fiery and fun and he was an utter loser. You deserved someone fun, someone who wouldn’t use you when things didn’t go his way. When he kissed Valerie, he was trying to expel that anger, that excess fire. But all it did was annoy him. He watched you walk away. He noticed the way Valerie didn’t look at him, instead out into the crowd for a set of bright green eyes he’d only seen briefly before they darted away.

The party was about as fun as you expected it to be. You watched in silent heartache as Billy and Valerie danced all night, hips grinding into each other with excited, lust filled eyes. Valerie was having a great birthday, but you were sick of celebrating. You tried to have fun, you danced with whatever boy would ask, grinding your hips to rhythms that the boys never stuck with. You were out of sync and utterly bored.

The night stayed that way for awhile. Billy and Valerie danced and swapped spit and drank and you danced and drank. You kissed Richie Swanson, but it wasn’t as nice as kissing Jonathan, filled with mashing gums and banging teeth. You tried to find him, but somehow both he and Nancy had disappeared and Steve was back to dancing with Vicki Matthews.

Then, disaster struck.

Somebody called the cops. Suddenly, the music was shut off and everyone was being rushed out, trying to escape before Chief Hopper could bust in and ruin anything. Billy was sent upstairs to wait for Valerie to finish clearing things up with the cops, but he insisted on sitting with you until your taxi showed up to drive you home.

You were drunker than you’d like to admit, but then again so was Billy. Sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, amber beer bottles in between you, you felt calm, happy even. The fact that he’d chosen you over tipsy, horny Valerie felt like a win in your favour. Neither of you needed to talk, drinking in comfortable silence. Everything was warm and soft, like a duvet cover, and you wanted nothing more than to snuggle into it.

“Hey, Y/N?” Billy muttered, his head lulling to look at you, his motor skills lessened by alcohol. He looked utterly beautiful in the yellow light of the wood paneled kitchen, which made your heart ache. Even now, even when he’d spent a whole night driving nails into your heart, you couldn’t help but feel lighter looking at him.

“Yeah?” you replied, bringing the bottle back up to your lips. You absolutely hated beer, but it was cool and gave you courage, two promising aspects.

“I love you, you know that? You’re my best friend…” he slurred, smiling sloppily. Your heart filled with joy, a smile spreading across your face. He loved you. He loved you. He loved you. You kept repeating it over and over in your head, your heart racing loudly in your ears.

You wanted to kiss him, to hug him, to press him up against the nearest wall and have your way with him. But that second part- the ‘You’re my best friend’ part- that was holding you back. He loved you, sure, but he didn’t want you. Not like you wanted him.

With a sigh, you nodded “I know Bee, I love you too…” you replied, knowing that he’d never love you the way you loved him.

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