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hockey-fics · 4 years ago

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Should Have Seen it Sooner ~ Vince Dunn

Summary: You make the decision to go visit your brother, Sammy, after graduating university. But that visit quickly becomes much more than you ever would have anticipated.

Warnings: verbal arguments, language, smut (nothing overly detailed)

Word Count: `13.5k

A/N: Let’s all pretend that Vince isn’t about to be traded ahahaha...I’m sad.

Your brother had always been your best friend. Even when you were kids and you refused to do so much as admit you liked him. He was the one who you would run to in the middle of the night when you were six and going through a phase of horrible nightmares. He would walk you back to your room, check under the bed and in the closet and lay with you till you fell asleep again. And when you were a little older and started having bad anxiety at school you would sit in the guidance counsellor’s office and refuse to talk to anyone but Sammy, who they would reluctantly pull out of class to come calm you down. When he had a bad loss in a hockey game he would come home and watch terrible reality tv with you, never wanting to talk about the game. He was the first person to make fun of you when you got a bad haircut but was also the first person to come to your defence when someone else made a comment about it. He picked you up drunk from many highschool parties, promising not to tell mom and dad. You helped him with girl issues, carefully constructing text messages to girls he liked, planning his dates for him and giving him pep talks before those dates.

So when he moved to St. Louis and seemed to be settling in there for awhile you had to admit you were quite upset. Of course growing up with him in hockey you were used to long periods without him, stretches of time when he was on the road. But him moving so far wasn’t easy for you. Then you moved away for university and while it wasn’t any easier, the distraction of new people, new places, and new experiences was enough to make it more bearable.

But once you graduated you were back to square one, realizing you were lost without your brother. So you took your degree and ran straight to St. Louis to spend whatever free time you had between graduating university and starting your life and career with Sammy.

It had been two weeks since you got there, making yourself comfortable in Sammy and Vince’s spare bedroom. You had only briefly met Vince prior to the trip but you were quickly becoming acquainted with him, despite the fact that he spent most of his free time playing video games which you were not about to distract him from.

“Why are you even going on a date?” Sammy asks, sprawled across the guest room bed with his phone in his hands as you stand on the other side of the room in front of the mirror over the dresser, curling your hair. “You’re don’t even live here.”

Glancing at him through the mirror you let a strand of still hot hair fall over your shoulder. “Do you only ever go on dates if you’re imagining spending the rest of your life with the person?”

Sammy looks over at you, his nose crinkling. “Gross.”

“What?” Your eyebrows are furrowed as you set your curling iron down, turning around to look at Sammy.

“You’re just going on a date with this guy to get fuck-.”

“Stop,” you exclaim, eyes widening. The last thing you wanted was your older brother thinking about your sex life. “No, I’m just meeting people, going out, having fun. I’m not just trying to get…fucked,” you tell him, turning around to look back into the mirror and continue on with your hair. “If that was the case I wouldn’t be putting this much effort into my appearance when it’ll just get wrecked in-.”

“No,” Sammy exclaims, pushing himself up off your bed. “I don’t want to hear it.” Laughing you watch him walk out of your room, shaking his head.

An hour later you’re in Sammy’s car after he convinced you to let him drive you to your date instead of taking an Uber. “Call me when you want me to pick you up,” Sammy tells you as you climb out of your car.

“Okay, dad,” you joke, rolling your eyes as you say your goodbye to Sammy, closing the door.

And call Sammy you did, only it was much earlier than you had expected. The date had gone terribly. It was only twenty minutes into the date, the drinks you had ordered not even at your table yet, when he suggested just leaving and going back to his place. And the suggestive comments didn’t stop, till ten minutes later and you were wondering if he was even going to let you leave at the end of the night without putting up a fight. So you excused yourself to the bathroom, pulling your phone out and dialling Sammy’s number. But he didn’t answer. So you called again, and he didn’t answer. Four more times and you were about to hang up and get an Uber when the dial tone cuts out.

“He didn’t answer the first ten times, why would he answer now?” It’s Vince’s voice, annoyed but also distant and you’re pretty sure that means he’s in the middle of gaming.

“Where’s Sammy?”

“The shower,” Vince tells you, too preoccupied with what he was doing to even so much as question the six, back-to-back phone calls.

“Can you tell him to come pick me up as soon as he’s out of the shower?” You ask, sniffling as you feel an overwhelming wash of panic come over you. This meant you would have to go back and sit with that man for even longer. “Or, could you just go like knock on the door? Tell him to hurry…please?”

“What’s wrong?” Vince asks, his tone shifting slightly.

“I…he-he’s weird,” you mutter, anxiously running your fingers through your hair. “Creepy,” you add, making him aware that it wasn’t a matter of simply not clicking on a first date.

“Text me the restaurant you’re at.”

“What? Sammy knows,” you tell him.

“I’m coming to get you.”

You wanted to tell him that he didn’t have to. You hated burdening people, hated asking for help. But that was far outweighed by your anxiety about the man at the table on the other side of the restaurant. “Thank you, I’ll text it to you now,” you tell him, saying a quick goodbye before hanging up and texting the address to Vince.

’on my way’ Vince sends back immediately.

You spend another few minutes in the bathroom before heading out to the restaurant, slowly making your way to the table. “Hey, I just got a text from my friend. I have to leave,” you tell him, leaving a ten dollar bill on the table, more than enough to cover the drink you ordered but never even got a sip of.

Outside you stand near the entrance of the restaurant, not wanting to stray too far from the brightly lit entrance. You’re surprised when you see Vince’s car pull up in front of you. Not because you didn’t think he would show up, but because you weren’t expecting him to be there that quickly. Hurrying to the passenger’s side door you hop into his car, silent as you stare out the front window, pulling your seatbelt across your body.

“That bad?” Vince asks, putting his car back in drive and pulling away from the restaurant.

“Yes,” is all you’re able to mutter leaning back in your seat, elbow on the window sill as you rest you head in your hand.

“Too bad,” Vince comments, glancing over at you, “You look good tonight, sucks it was wasted on an asshole.”

Your cheeks get warm, palms sweaty, and you’re not sure why. All you can manage to do is glance over at Vince and mutter a simple, “thanks, I guess.”

The next thing you know you’re in a Dairy Queen drive through and Vince is looking over at you. “What do you want?”

“I didn’t…wait, what?” But Vince is pulling up to the speaker before you have any longer to question it so you tell him what you want and wait in silence till he pulls ahead. “I didn’t realize we were getting ice cream.”

“And we’re going to watch that shitty tv show you’re always trying to get Sammy to watch,” Vince tells you, clearly having already constructed a plan for how he was going to turn the night around for you.

“Thank you, Vince,” you whisper and he glances over, eyes meeting yours before shrugging casually, as if it was no big deal. But it was. It was a big deal. He had already gone out of his way to pick you up, something he didn’t need to do. Now he was committing to trying to cheer you up.

Before you know it you’re back at Sammy and Vince’s apartment and Sammy is lost beyond hope regarding the situation. “It’s okay,” you assured Sammy when he asked you about the six phone calls the second you walked through the front door. “Vince came to get me.”

“Why?” Sammy asks, glancing back and forth between the two of you.

“Because you have terrible timing to go have a shower.” Tugging your jacket off you hang it up on the hook by the door. “I should have listened to you, dating is just a bad idea.”

“Well I didn’t exactly say that,” Sammy mutters, following after you and Vince as you head towards the living room. “What happened?”

“My date was a creep, I called your phone…a few times, and Vince answered after he got annoyed with listening to it ring.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince chimes in, flopping down onto the end of the couch.

Rolling your eyes you glance over at Vince, shaking your head. “Don’t lie, I heard how annoyed you were.”

“I wasn’t annoyed,” Vince repeats, eyes locked on yours.

“Fine,” you comment, but you were still convinced it was a lie and he was just trying not to sound like an asshole after finding out about the situation. “We’re going to watch Selling Sunset, want to join?”

Sammy furrows his eyebrows, glancing over at Vince. “You’re going to watch Selling Sunset?” He asks, directing his question at Vince.

Walking over you sit down on the opposite end of the couch from Vince, pulling your legs and crossing them as you reach for the remote.

“Yeah,” Vince replies, looking over at Sammy while grabbing the remote for you and handing it to you.

Sammy stands in a stunned silence for a minute, staring at Vince in disbelief. He could barely ever convince Vince to let him pick a series and now here he was, willing to watch a reality tv show about Los Angeles real estate. “Okay,” Sammy finally mutters, settling into the love seat on the other side of the room, exchanging silent glances with you. Silent glances that asked, ‘what’s going on?’ But you couldn’t answer, verbally or silently, because you weren’t really sure where this behaviour was coming from with Vince.

A few episodes later and you decide to put Vince and Sammy, who were trying their best to seem like they actually cared about what was on the screen, out of their misery. “I’m going to head to bed,” you tell them, handing the remote to Vince as you push yourself off the couch, stretching your arms over your head. “Thanks again, for everything tonight,” you tell Vince.

“Anytime,” he replies, watching as you walk out of the living room and into the guest room down the hall.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on your door and you look up from where you were laying on the bed scrolling through your phone. Sammy pushes the door open, taking two bounding steps before throwing himself onto your bed. “What happened tonight?” He asks, his tone a serious shift from his actions of throwing himself around like a ragdoll.

Shrugging you lock your phone, setting it down and adjusting higher on your pillow so you could see your brother without fully committing to actually sitting up. “My date was just creepy…he kept trying to get me to leave with him like 5 minutes into the date.”

Sammy visibly tenses up when he hears this, shifting to sit up as he looks down at you. “So you called Vince?”

“I called you,” you exclaim, laughing as you reach other, grabbing a pillow and swinging it towards him. “But you seemed to think the date was going to last longer than half an hour.”

“I’m sorry,” Sammy tells you, and you can tell that he really means it. Normally you were sure he wouldn’t care about not being able to pick you up at the exact moment you wanted him to. He was your brother after all, he cared, but he wasn’t sweet about it. This was just a different type of situation, you knew it, he knew it, and thankfully, Vince had figured that out too.

“It’s fine, I just won’t rely on you…ever again,” you joke.

“That’ll last like twenty minutes,” Sammy replies, laying back down along the foot of your bed. “Till you find a spider in your room and refuse to come back in till I kill it for you.”

“Don’t put that in the universe, that’s so mean to wish that upon me.”

You and Sammy continue talking till you’re about to drift off to sleep and he sneaks out of your room, like he did when you were six and had a nightmare.

A couple days later Sammy and Vince had to go on a five day road trip and you considered going home, brought up the idea to Sammy. He pointed out the fact that you had a key to the apartment, you had gotten comfortable there, and it was only five days. So you agreed to stay, relatively easily at that. Because if you were being honest, you missed being around Sammy, and you were happier there than you had been in awhile.

The morning they were leaving you were saying your goodbyes, hugging Sammy quickly. “Good luck, I’ll miss you. I promise I won’t throw any parties,” you joked. You were used to sad goodbyes with Sammy, after he would come home during the summer and you would have to say goodbye for months. This one felt so different though, knowing it was only a few days apart. It was comforting.

When you pulled away you looked over at Vince, hesitating a second before throwing your arms around him too. “Good luck,” you told him, his arms tight around your waist. It was different than your hug with Sammy, of course it would be, but you weren’t prepared for just how different. You weren’t prepared for the the scent of his cologne, the way he held you tight to his body, the warmth radiating from him, would make your stomach fill with butterflies. “I’ll miss you as well,” you added, playing it off as a joke, but you knew it wasn’t really a joke.

Vince had chuckled in response, your body absorbing the way his laughter rumbled through his body. “I’ll miss you too,” he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine with the quiet tone of his voice. He had pulled away, looking at you once more before the two of them headed out.

You went about your normal routine while they were gone but the quietness of the apartment was starting to get to you around day three, leaving you longing for not just your brother but Vince as well, to be back. So when Sammy told you the time they would be back you went all out, going grocery shopping and picking up all of Sammy’s favourite foods and the few you remember Vince mentioning liking. And you were halfway through cooking dinner for everyone when they got back from their trip.

“Hey,” you called from the kitchen, sautéing a pan full of vegetables, music playing loudly from the speaker on the counter a few feet away. “I’m making dinner, if you guys already ate I’m going to be sad.”

“We didn’t.” Shockingly it’s Vince who’s greets you first, walking up behind you and leaning over your shoulder to look into the pan.

“How was the flight home?” You ask, turning your head to glance up at Vince. He’s closer than you expected and you can’t stop the smile that spreads on your face. You’re convinced it’s because you’re just glad to have people around again, and not because you had really started to like Vince.

“Pretty good,” Vince tells you, stepping to the side to lean against the counter beside the stove. “How was your week alone in my house?”

Rolling your eyes you set the spatula down beside the stove, looking up at him. “Fantastic, your bed is so much more comfortable than the one in the guest room.”

“Oh, really?” Vince chuckles. “I’m willing to share.”

You’re caught off guard by Vince’s comment, unable to come up with a witty response before Sammy is in the room as well. “What are you making?” Sammy asks, walking over and giving you a quick hug before immediately plugging his phone into the nearest outlet and unlocking his phone, typing quickly.

“Stir fry…who are you talking to?” You ask Sammy, your tone teasing.

Sammy shakes his head but his little smile tells you that it’s not nothing. “Ooh,” you laugh, stepping away from the stove to try to look at Sammy’s phone. But he pulls it away quickly and the next thing you know you’re wrestling for Sammy’s phone like you’re both teenagers again. “Just tell me,” you laugh, hand grasping for his phone as he pushes your arm back with his free hand.

“Her name is Anna,” Vince says.

Pulling back from Sammy you glance over at Vince, shocked at his willingness to let you in on Sammy’s business. “Oh,” you hum, picking up the spatula again to stir the vegetables in the pan. “So, who’s Anna?”

“A girl I’ve been talking to for a few weeks,” Sammy tells you easily. There was never really any need to keep it a secret, he was just playing the part of an annoying older brother in trying to keep it a secret. “We went on a date a couple days before we left.”

“You didn’t tell me you were going on a date?”

“I actually didn’t think it would lead to anything,” Sammy confesses.

“Like Y/N’s dating life,” Vince quips.

You whip your head in Vince’s direction, gasping at his comment. “You’re an asshole,” you exclaim, laughing. “I’ll let you know, I could have a boyfriend if I wanted…I’m just not trying right now.”

“Seemed like you were trying,” Vince chuckles.

“I swear to god, Vince,” you mutter, wielding the spatula you were holding with a joking threat.

“Can one of you shut up so we don’t burn the house down, please,” Sammy chimes in and draws your attention back to the vegetables that were starting to stick to the pan. As you go back to finishing up dinner the boys continue on with their own conversations, discussing things that happened over the trip and the upcoming schedule for the week.

After you all finish dinner you’re back in the kitchen to tidy up and do some dishes, but Vince is at your side at the sink quickly after. Nudging you to the side Vince grabs the wash cloth from your hand. “I got it,” he tells you.

“I don’t mind,” you retort, not moving much further away from the beside the sink. “I’m sure you guys are tired.”

“I slept on the flight,” Vince informs you, running the cloth over a mixing bowl in the sink.

Huffing you step away from him, “fine.” Walking to the cupboard you grab the box of tea you bought a few days prior, taking a mug down as well as you turn the kettle on. “Want some tea?”

Vince chuckles, an obvious enough answer, but he follows it up with “no, thanks,” anyway. “So did you go on anymore dates while we were gone?”

Rolling your eyes you hop up onto the counter while you wait for your tea to steep, watching Vince do the dishes. “No, nobody here was to rescue me if it went poorly.”

“So what did you actually do the whole time we were gone?”

Shrugging you bring the tea to your lips, taking a sip of the hot liquid. “Hung out with some friends a few times, explored the city, watched all your games.”

“Friends?”

“Yes, Vince, I’m capable of making friends,” you mutter, rolling your eyes.

“No, that’s not what I meant.” Vince chuckles, glancing over at you. “I just mean, like, you’re just here visiting and you’re still making friends? Where did you meet them anyway?”

“The gym,” you inform him, your voice quiet and deflated. You didn’t really like to think about that fact, about the reality that you would have to make some kind of move soon. You couldn’t live in this vacation-like reality forever. No matter how much you wanted to.

After the dishes are done Vince heads to his computer to play video games and you head to the living room to watch some TV till Sammy was done unpacking and you could convince him to hang out with you and give you all the details about Anna.

And two days later Sammy was beyond glad that he had given you all the details about Anna when he sent you a panicky text. The boys had the day off and Sammy had gone out to run a few errands while you were hanging out at the house with Vince. ‘I told Anna I would cook her dinner at my place.’

‘that’s dumb, you can’t cook’ you replied quickly, sitting on the couch and watching Vince play video games. You were trying to be more involved with that after he had started watching the occasional episode of Selling Sunset with you.

‘that’s not the issue’ ‘I’ll figure that out’ ‘You and Vince can’t be there, it’ll be awkward’

Sighing you glance up from your phone screen to Vince. “Vince,” you call, standing up from the couch and making your way across the room. “We gotta go.”

“Where?” Vince mutters, not peeling his eyes off the screen in front of him.

“I don’t know,” you confess while sending Sammy a text to tell him you were on it, to give you twenty minutes and you’d be out. “Sammy is kicking us out.”

“What?” Vince asks, spinning in his chair once his game had ended.

“He needs the apartment for a date, now hurry up, we’re going out for awhile.”

Vince groans and sets his controller down, reluctantly pulling himself off the chair. “I didn’t agree to this.”

“I agreed on your behalf.” Walking into your room you grab a jacket, your wallet, and keys before hurrying back towards the door where Vince was already pulling on his shoes. “Have anything you needed to get done?” You ask him once you had your shoes on and you were on your way out the door behind Vince.

“I would have already been doing it.”

Rolling your eyes you reach forward and shove him playfully. “If you don’t stop being an asshole I’ll drop you off at the library for four hours.”

“It’s my car…and I’m driving.”

“No, please, let me drive,” you ask, shuffling quickly in front of him and spinning around so you were facing him. Sammy had given you permission to drive his car while he was out of town and you had loved exploring the city, not really knowing where you were going, just driving.

“No, I’ve seen you drive.” Vince keeps his hand folded firmly over his car keys, gazing down at you.

“That was one time,” you defend.

“One time we almost died.”

Rolling your eyes you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re so dramatic, it wasn’t that bad.”

Suddenly Vince has his hands on your arms and he’s spinning you around, pushing you towards the car. “Get in the car,” his voice is filled with urgency and you notice Sammy pulling up towards the apartment parking lot.

Giggling at the whole situation you hop into his car, watching Sammy pull into his parking stall. Neither you or Vince had to bring up the idea of staying in the car and doing a little light-hearted spying, you were silently on board with the idea. You watch Sammy get out, trying to make it to the passenger’s side of the car to open Anna’s door but she’s already getting out and you watch as the awkwardly fumble around the door for a second. Both you and Vince glance over at each other at the same, bursting into laughter.

“No, but they are cute together,” you comment through your giggles, watching as they laugh off the exchange, Sammy closing the door behind her.

“He wouldn’t shut up about her over the trip.”

“That’s cute.” You watch as they head into the apartment building together before turning your attention back to Vince. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Vince turns his car on, putting it into drive and pulling out of the parking lot, no real destination in mind.

“You must have someone you can’t shut up about…I mean, look at you,” you comment absentmindedly, not really thinking about how it would come across.

“Are you calling me hot, Y/N?”

“Well,” you hum, laughing as your cheeks redden slightly. “I think it’s like, objective, you know. Anyone would say you’re hot.”

“So you don’t personally find me hot?”

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, shaking your head as Vince simply chuckles. He was really trying his hardest to keep you from getting out of that one easily. “Where are we going?”

“The library, I’m leaving you there,” Vince jokes.

“Great, books are more entertaining than you anyway,” you quip.

“I was going to take you to get a coffee but maybe not now.”

“No,” you whine, laughing. Vince had clearly noticed when all three of you would get in the car to go anywhere the first time thing out of your mouth was ‘can we get a coffee’? “I take it back then.”

So a few minutes later you’re in the drive through at Starbucks and you don’t even need to tell Vince your order because he has it memorized, which you’re surprised by. He pays for your coffee even though you insist that you can buy it. Then you’re driving again and you end up parked in front of a shoe store.

“I actually did have something I needed to get done,” Vince tells you, chuckling.

“Oh, so you were just being rude for no good reason then,” you comment, hoping out of the car after him and walking towards the store with Vince. “Does this mean I get to help you pick shoes?”

“Uh,” Vince mutters, glancing down to your shoes. “No.”

“Take me to the library, you’re so mean,” you whine, playfully pushing his arm.

Vince laughs, reaching over and grabbing your hand as you push him. “Come on,” he huffs jokingly, pulling you along into the store. And you suddenly can’t focus on anything but his hand, the way it so easily wrapped around yours, warm and secure. But it makes you nervous, the way it causes butterflies to fill your stomach, so you pull it away quickly.

You’re in the shoe store much longer than you though, Vince taking an excessively long amount of time to make a decision. But you don’t mind because in all honesty, you simply liked being around Vince. Your next stop is for dinner and Vince picks the restaurant, still acting as an unofficial tour guide for you.

By the time dinner is over you had expected to receive a text from Sammy, letting you know that it was fine to come home. But you get nothing, so you and Vince go get ice cream and drive to a lookout, listening to music and eating your dessert. Your conversation flows easily and you would happily have sat there for hours with Vince, talking and joking. But you get a text message from Sammy shortly after telling you he was taking Anna home.

“We’re safe to go back,” you tell Vince, pulling your seatbelt back on.

“Too bad,” Vince mutters.

“What?”

Vince glances across the interior of the car at you, silent for a second as he tugs his seatbelt on. “It’s just been more fun than I thought this would be.”

“I don’t know how to take that,” you laugh. It was nice to hear he had been having a good time, but you didn’t know if you should be upset that he was anticipating it not being a very good time.

Vince chuckles, not saying anything else about it as the two of you drive back to the apartment. You’re back before Sammy and you head for the living room, Vince following after you and not putting saying anything as you pick the movie for the night.

‘going to get an uber now’

You had gone out with your new group of friends for the night, one drink turning to two and two turning to a count you had lost long ago. You had been texting Vince all night, though it wasn’t anything new. The two of you had fallen into a routine of texting almost anytime you were apart. He had picked up on your dwindling sobriety throughout the night, as almost anyone reading your messages could have. So when you told him you were getting an Uber he was quick to reply.

‘I’ll come get you, where are you?’

So you sent him your address, you and your friends paying your bills before heading outside for everyone to wait for their rides. Shockingly it’s Vince who shows up first and your friends are quick to make comments about how none of their real boyfriends were that quick to get there. You brushed it all off, making excuses that he was just a good friend, that he was probably speeding anyway, that you didn’t live that far. Anything to not admit the fact that you and Vince might have a connection that was becoming more than just friendly.

“Hi,” you greet, cheerful as you climb into Vince’s car. It was so unlike the first time he picked you up and Vince was grateful for that, not just because you were in a better mood but also because it meant you hadn’t been out on a date.

“How was your night?” Vince laughs.

“Good,” you giggle, looking over at him as he drives back to the apartment. And you can’t help but think about how attractive he truly was, how he made your heart beat just a little faster. He was your brother’s best friend and you knew the feelings you were having towards him were complicated. “Yours?”

“Probably not as good as yours,” he jokes, taking note of the way you couldn’t stop smiling, primarily a result of the alcohol in your system. But there was also a part of you that was just happy to be around him.

“So anyway, Michael has been staying late at work all the time and Lily is starting to get suspicious about it,” you ramble as you walk through the apartment door with Vince. It’s quiet in the apartment and you realize you hadn’t texted Sammy in awhile, wondering if he was in bed. “Sammy?” You call, stumbling slightly over the edge of the doormat.

Vince wraps an arm around your waist, steadying you as he laughs. “He’s in bed,” Vince tells you. “What do you need?”

“Nothing,” you admit, clutching onto the arm Vince had wrapped around your waist. “Just wanted to say hi to him.”

Vince chuckles and nods. “I think you should go to bed too.” He gently guides you further into the apartment, reaching over to turn the deadbolt on the door while keeping one arm around you, as if you couldn’t stand on your own.

“Hey, Vince,” you whisper although you didn’t need to get his attention.

“Yes, Y/N?” He steps closer now, looking down at you in the silent apartment, waiting to hear what your drunk mind was coming up with.

“Thank you, for everything, for letting me stay here this long. I promise I’ll leave soon. I know you didn’t sign up to have two roommates.”

Vince smiles softly, shrugging. “Don’t worry about it. I like having you here. I don’t, you know, want you to leave if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Oh,” you whisper, processing the idea that you weren’t annoying Vince with your extended stay. “I mean it though, thank you.”

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Vince says, changing the subject as he guides you through the apartment to the guest bedroom. He hovers near the doorway, clearly wanting to make sure you were settled in bed before leaving you.

You knew he was there, you knew you should ask him to look away if he wanted to stay till you were in bed, but you don’t. Instead you simply pull your shirt up over your head, exposing a lacy black bra you had worn for no real reason except that it made you feel confident. Shimmying your jeans down your legs you toss them aside carelessly. You don’t even look over at Vince as you reach behind you to unhook that bra, missing the way he stood there, stunned and frozen with his eyes on you. You let your bra fall to the ground, your body angled away from Vince as you grab a t-shirt from the dresser.

“Y/N?” Sammy’s voice calls through the apartment.

“Fuck,” you mutter, clutching the shirt to your bare chest. Your wide eyes look over at Vince who comically steps back and forth between the wide-open bedroom door, clearly not knowing what the correct move was. “Just close it.” And Vince does exactly that, from the inside. “Vince,” you groan.

“You told me to,” he defends, his hand still resting on the doorknob.

“From outside,” you tell him. “Now this just looks…weird.”

“Y/N? Are you okay?” Sammy calls through the closed bedroom door.

“Yeah,” you call back, spinning around to leave your back facing Vince as you pull your t-shirt on, grateful for the size and length of it. “Just getting ready for bed.”

“Okay, just wanted to make sure you got home safe.”

Home. Your eyes flick over to Vince, trying to see if he caught onto the same, subtle insinuation. But he still just looked panicky as he stands beside the closed door. “Yeah, I’m just going to bed now.”

“Can I come in and say goodnight?”

Your heart begins to race as stare at Vince in silence for a second. “Yeah.”

You couldn’t say no, he would immediately know that something was wrong. Sammy pushes the door open a second later and Vince looks to you in panic. “How was-,” Sammy begins to ask when he spots Vince, looking back and forth between the two of you. “What’s going on?”

You weren’t sure why you felt so guilty. You hadn’t done anything with Vince, it wasn’t a lie to say that nothing was happening, that he was just making sure you got to bed safely. Maybe the reason you felt so guilty was because that wasn’t all you wanted to happen. “Vince picked me up, was just making sure I got to bed safely.”

Sammy nods slowly, not seeming convinced. “Well I got it from here,” he mutters to Vince, nodding towards the still open door. Vince glances back at you one more time before leaving, the silence in the room painful. “What’s going on?” Sammy repeats once it’s just you and him.

“Nothing,” you exclaim, flopping down onto your bed and climbing under the covers, hoping to make it obvious that you didn’t have anything else to say.

“You two are getting really close,” Sammy points out. “Are you sure it’s nothing?”

“Yes,” you huff, dramatically yanking your blankets higher up around your shoulders. “Go back to bed.”

“Don’t have to be so moody,” Sammy grumbles, turning off your light and closing the door behind him as he leaves your room. Once he’s gone you lay awake for most of the night, your mind racing with thoughts of Vince. Thoughts you knew you shouldn’t be feeling towards him but the more you tried to think of anything other than him the more vivid the thoughts became till your mind eventually silenced itself completely and you drifted to sleep.

“I’m spending the night at Anna’s place,” Sammy told you a few days later as he was grabbing his keys off the counter and heading for the door.

Giggling you glance up from the book you were reading, shooting him a knowing look.

“Don’t be weird,” he comments, chuckling.

“What do you mean? I didn’t say anything,” you joke, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know where Vince is, he left while you were at the gym, don’t know when he’ll be back,” Sammy informs.

“Have fun tonight,” you call as he walks out the front door.

A few hours later you’ve migrated to the kitchen, finishing up baking some cookies while you were trying to figure out how you wanted to spend the rest of the evening.

“Hey.”

Jumping you whirl around to face the direction of that the sudden voice comes from. Bringing your hand to your chest over your racing heart you laugh in relief when you see it’s just Vince. “You scared me, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry,” Vince chuckles, reaching over and taking one of the cookies off the cooling rack on the counter. “Where’s Sammy?”

“He’s at Anna’s place for the night,” you explain, leaning against the counter. “Are they good? It’s a new recipe.”

“Yeah, really good. So we’re alone tonight?” Vince asks, elbows on the counter as he leans against it, eyes focused on you.

“Can’t believe he left us without supervision,” you joke, pulling the last tray of cookies out of the oven before turning it off.

“What do you want to do?”

“Movie night?”

“Sure,” Vince agrees, shrugging as he pushes himself off the counter. “Let’s go pick up dinner first.”

After a quick trip to the grocery store and your favourite sushi restaurant you’re back at the apartment, pouring yourself a glass of wine while Vince was already opening up the boxes of sushi. “Want some?” You ask Vince, gesturing to the wine.

“Uh,” he hums before shaking his head. “I’ll pass on that,” he chuckles, walking to the fridge and grabbing a beer for himself.

“Should have figured,” you giggle, putting the white wine back into the fridge.

In the living room you two settle onto the couch to have dinner and pick the first movie of the night. Halfway through the second movie you’ve lost your focus on the plot, eyes on your phone as you curl into the corner of the couch, scrolling through your instagram feed.

“What is more interesting than this movie?” Vince questions, gesturing to the tv and the movie he had picked that was playing on it.

Glancing up you roll your eyes playfully. “Almost anything.” Scooting down the couch you settle in beside Vince, letting him see your phone screen.

And within seconds the movie is long forgotten as he chuckles at a meme you scroll by. The transition from Instagram to TikTok is quick and so is the movement from you sitting beside Vince to you being tucked under his arm and leaning into his side. You’re both giggling at the short videos and the time slips by quickly, the credits on the tv rolling and reminding you of the fact that you had planned a movie night. “Do I get to pick the next one?”

Vince reluctantly hands you the remote, wrapping his arm around you as you rest your head against his shoulder. His body is warm and his embrace is comforting and you know you shouldn’t want to stay like this with him forever, but you do.

The next movie is more interesting but you find it just as hard to focus on with the way you were wrapped up in Vince’s arms. You’re not even sure what compels you to look up at Vince, he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t moved. But he notices and turns his attention to you a second later. “What?” He asks, voice low and rough in a way that makes your breath catch in your throat.

“Nothing,” you whisper, barely able to make any sound come from your mouth as your cheeks get hot. And you want to say the flushing is from the wine but it only started when Vince’s eyes landed on your and you know he wouldn’t believe your lie.

“Are you sure?”

You swallow hard, shifting slightly towards him. “I don’t know.”

Vince’s lips curl into a soft smile, eyes lingering on your lips as he reaches forward to brush a piece of your hair out of your face. “Then just show me what you’re thinking.”

It’s an invitation and you know he’s saying it because he already knows exactly what you’re thinking. But it’s risky and you both know that, too scared to make the move when the potential of it ending poorly is so high. But you can’t hold back any longer. So you lean forward, just enough for him to get the message and he takes over, hand around the back of your head as he leans over and kisses you.

And he kisses you like he’s making every second worth it if things do end poorly. When you pull back your mind is racing a million miles an hour but your body is begging to do it again. You wait a second, hoping Vince would say something. But he doesn’t, and you don’t either, and you can’t think of anything better to do than lean back in and press your lips back against his. This time it’s heated in a way that you had never felt before and you’re climbing into his lap, hips grinding down on him. You weren’t aware of just how badly you needed him to touch you until that very minute when his lips brushed against yours.

“Are you going to actually share your bed with me tonight?” You whisper against his lips when you finally pull back.

“I would’ve shared my bed with you any night you wanted.” Vince grasps your hips, gently pushing you away from him and helping you onto your feet before standing up with you. “Are you sure?”

Smiling you lean up, kissing him quickly again. “Yes, of course.”

Vince wraps his large hand around yours, slowly walking you through the apartment. As if he didn’t want to seem too eager, careful and tentative around the whole situation.

But once you’re in his room, on his bed, Vince is far less careful and tentative. And the night ends with you feeling barely able to move, body having ridden through more highs in one go than you had ever felt.

As soon as you’re done Vince goes back to being careful, considerate as the two of you shower together and he lets you pick out a t-shirt before curling up under the covers of his bed.

“Should we have done that?” You finally whisper after laying next to Vince with your head on his chest in silence for what felt like ages.

“I’m not sure,” Vince admits with an obvious reluctance, running his hand along your bare arm.

“Sammy was already suspicious of us.”

“I figured,” Vince tells you, sighing. “After the night I picked you up?”

“Yeah…I told him it was nothing…I mean, like, I know it was nothing, but-.”

“It wasn’t,” Vince interrupts, pulling you a little closer and pressing his lips to your forehead. “This isn’t nothing to me, Y/N. If I just wanted a quick fuck I definitely wouldn’t pick my best friend and roommate’s sister, no matter how hot you are.”

“Oh,” is all you can say, caught off guard. “Well then, what does it mean?”

Vince is quiet for too long after you ask, the only way you could tell he was still awake in the dark room was his hand still running up and down your arm. “I have feelings for you, but other than that…I don’t know,” Vince finally mutters.

“I think we need to give it some time, not tell Sammy this happened yet.”

“Just go back to the way things were?”

“Yeah,” you whisper.

Vince moves his hands to your waist, pulling you on top of him.

“Vince,” you exclaim, hands clambering for support till they find his bare shoulders, holding you up as you look down at his silhouette below you.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Vince chuckles, his thumbs running along your upper thighs, large hands now wrapped around the backs of them.

“I think you can,” you assure him, leaning down to press your lips to his. But the fact that you could feel him getting hard again makes you a little wary about whether he really could. “Maybe,” you whisper, moving your hips back as you reach down, wrapping around his length.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tipping back on the pillow. And the last thing you had expected when you crawled into Vince’s bed after the first few rounds was to be doing it again. But you were making up for lost time. It’s slower this time, both of your tired bodies just searching for another release. And you find it, easier than normal, on top of Vince still in his t-shirt, panties simply pushed to the side.

When you finish Vince is quick to help you get cleaned up again, letting you remain collapsed on his bed. You can’t stop your heart from fluttering with excitement with him, at how considerate and caring he was. And when he finally settles back down you curl back into his side. “We need to agree on something.”

“Alright,” Vince mutters apprehensively.

“We can’t hook up when Sammy is here, it’s too risky.”

“Fine,” Vince finally agrees after a couple minutes of contemplation. The two of you drift to sleep very shortly after.

Your eyes flutter open to a gentle shaking of your shoulder. “Hey, babe, you have to wake up,” Vince says, voice quiet. “Sammy and I have practice in a couple hours, he’s going to be home soon.”

Groaning you roll away from him, head buried in his pillow. “It’s too early.”

“I know,” Vince chuckles sitting on the edge of the bed and running his hand along your arm. “You’re the one who doesn’t want your brother to find out.”

“Don’t act like you want him to know you railed his sister the first time he left us alone,” you mumble, still half asleep.

“When you put it that way,” Vince chuckles, head whipping towards the bedroom door when he hears the sound of the front door closing.

“Shit,” you whisper, suddenly fully awake as you sit up completely straight.

“Just stay here, I’ll tell him you haven’t come out of you room yet this morning,” Vince suggests.

Nodding you run your hands through your messy hair, anxiety creeping up on you. If you were going to tell Sammy anything at this point you would rather just admit that you and Vince had feelings for each other, not that you spent the night in his bed.

“Don’t worry, it’s believable. It’s not like you don’t normally sleep in till one in the afternoon.”

Scoffing you roll your eyes, flopping back onto Vince’s bad. “Whatever,” you grumble. “Text me when you two are gone,” you mutter, glad your phone had been in your pocket when you made your way to Vince’s room the night before.

And when you finally get a text from Vince saying they were gone you pull yourself out of bed, making it behind you before wandering out of the bedroom. The apartment is so quiet and you make yourself some coffee, still just in Vince’s t-shirt. Something about it feels so right, so comfortable. After making a coffee you settle down on one of the barstools at the counter in the kitchen, opening your laptop and navigating to Indeed and before you’re even fully processing what you’re doing you’ve sent out a handful of resumes to jobs in St. Louis.

After you finish applying to jobs you move on to getting ready for the day. When Sammy and Vince finally get home you feel the weight of so many secrets on your chest. Of not telling Sammy about you and Vince, of not telling Sammy and Vince about applying for jobs in St. Louis.

“How was your night?” You ask Sammy as he walks into the kitchen, looking up over the top of your laptop.

“Good,” Sammy replies, grabbing himself a snack from the fridge. “How was yours?”

“Good,” you reply simply, looking back down at your computer.

“Up late?” Looking back up you stare at Sammy for a second, feeling like he was trying to catch you in a lie. “I mean, you were still in bed when I left this morning.”

Nodding you pick up your mug, shrugging. “TikTok is pretty addicting,” you comment, brushing it off as you take a sip of your coffee. “I’m going grocery shopping, do you have anything in particular that you need?”

“Just the regular stuff we keep in the house,” Sammy shrugs, not wanting to have to actually think about it.

Rolling your eyes you close your laptop and slide off the stool you were sitting on. “Really helpful, can I borrow your car?”

Sammy groans loudly. “What if I wanted to go out?”

“Well do you?”

“I’ll just take you,” Vince chimes in, walking into the room.

Glancing over your eyes linger on Vince’s for a second, wanting so badly to be able to say something or hug him, something…anything. “Thanks,” you finally mutter, realizing you needed to say something and not just stand there and stare at him.

“Want to go now?”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, gathering your things and pulling on a hoodie on your way out the door. Once you’re outside you glance behind you and up at Vince. “So, since when are you so interested in grocery shopping?”

“Since it means being with you…away from your brother,” Vince chuckles, hands on your waist, tugging you to stop and pulling you into him. Leaning down he presses his lips to yours, your head tipped back and to the side, fingers clutching at his arm.

“You’re not being very secretive,” you giggle, pulling back and looking around the front parking lot of the apartment building.

“Fine, I’ll wait till we’re in the car.”

Rolling your eyes you get into the passenger’s side of Vince’s car. “We’re going to get groceries…that’s it.”

You drive to the closest grocery story and head inside with Vince, pushing the cart down almost every aisle, the two of you talking and making jokes the whole time. It’s such a mundane task, grocery shopping, but somehow doing it with Vince makes it enjoyable and fun.

Back at the apartment you lug an armload of groceries inside, seeing Sammy sitting on the couch, xbox controller in this hands. “Thanks for the help,” you call to him sarcastically.

Sammy chuckles, barely glancing in your direction. “You’ve got Vince.”

Your heart beats a little faster at that comment, dropping the bags onto the counter and looking over at Vince. You know that he didn’t miss the comment either by the smirk on his face, the way he walks over and wraps his arms around your waist. “See, he’s already accepted it,” Vince whispers jokingly.

“Shut up,” you giggle, rolling your eyes as you playfully push him away and turn around to begin putting groceries away. Vince continues to make subtle moves, sliding his hand along your lower back as he walks by to put a box of crackers into the cupboard, stepping up behind you to take the can of chickpeas that you were struggling to put onto the top shelf out of your hand and doing it for you. It takes you two forever to finally put everything away and once you do it’s time to start making dinner. “Are you going to help me or just be in my way?” You tease.

“I know you like having me around.”

Shaking your head you look down at the recipe on your phone, unable to argue against that. You really didn’t want Vince to leave, even if he was really just getting in your way. Because you liked Vince, a lot more than you should.

A few days later you received a call from one of the businesses you applied to asking you to come in for an interview, to which you easily agreed. It was during another four day span of Vince and Sammy being gone so you were able to get ready and go for your interview without any questions. There was something about admitting to the fact that you were trying to find a job in St. Louis that scared you. Perhaps it was simply because it was a little crazy. You would need to find a job willing to arrange a visa for you, you would need to find your own apartment, and quite frankly, you probably just hadn’t thought it through enough. But you didn’t want to leave either, you were having a good time here with your brother and Vince, although you were trying to convince yourself that Vince had nothing to do with the decision.

The interview went well and the next morning you got a call with a job offer. You accepted it quickly, not just because it meant you could stay in St. Louis but because it was also a job you were more than interested in.

Sammy and Vince get home later that afternoon and you pull Sammy into the living room. “I have some news.”

“Okay?” Sammy mutters, eyebrows furrowed, hands folded nervously over his knees as he sits on the edge of the couch.

“I got a job.”

“Oh, congratulations,” Sammy says, the news processing in his head as you watch his body language sink a little. “Does this mean you’re going back home?”

Shaking your head you fidget with a piece of thread on your hoodie sleeve. You weren’t sure why you were nervous to tell him that you had found a job there. “It’s here.”

Sammy has his arms around you quickly, pulling you to your feet and into a tight hug. “You’re staying here?”

Laughing you pull back from him, staring up at him in shock. You hadn’t expected him to be that excited about it. “Yes…I mean, I’ll obviously get my own place and car and everything but I’m going to be in the city.”

“What’s going on?” Vince asks, walking into the living room.

“I got a job here,” you tell him, voice quiet and apprehensive. You were a little worried that Vince wouldn’t be happy, that maybe he had only been into you because he figured you would be leaving, that it was a short term thing.

“Here? Like, you’re staying in St. Louis…for good?”

Nodding slowly you glance down at the ground, taking a deep breath. “Yeah.”

“Congratulations,” he tells you, walking over and pulling you into a hug.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pulling back to look up at Vince, trying to read his expression. Unfortunately you come up with nothing, sighing as you step away from him.

It’s not till much later that night when you even get the chance to talk to him more, Sammy barely leaving your side as he excitedly looked through apartment listings with you, even though he assured you that there was no rush for you to move out.

Once everyone had gone to bed you sneak out of your room and down the hallway to Vince’s bedroom, pushing it open slightly. “Vince?” You whisper, trying your hardest not to wake Sammy up in the process.

“Hey, babe,” Vince says softly, making your heart flutter so easily. “Are you going to come in?”

Slipping through the door you shut it softly behind you, fumbling through the dark bedroom to Vince’s bed. “Hey,” you mumble, climbing onto the empty side of the bed and sitting with you legs crossed, watching Vince sit up and lean against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

How he knew so quickly that you were worried about something was beyond your comprehension. Normally you weren’t easy to read but Vince saw right through it. “I just…if you thought this was something different because I was going to be leaving, I totally get that. We can go back to just being friends…or not, if you don’t want. We don’t have to tell Sammy, I can move into my own apartment and we can pretend this didn’t happen, it’s fine,” you ramble.

“Y/N,” Vince says quietly, reaching over and placing his hands around your waist, guiding you closer as you slide onto your knees. “I like you…I have feelings for you. I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen.”

“I just thought, I don’t know. Your reaction earlier wasn’t what I expected.”

Vince pulls you over his lap, hands running along your thighs. “Because you don’t want Sammy to know about us and I didn’t want him to be suspicious if I seemed too happy about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper, sliding your hands along his bare chest, resting them on his shoulders.

Vince chuckles, pulling you closer and leaning up. “I didn’t want to be the one to suggest it, but I was hoping you would look for a job here,” Vince admits before pressing his lips to yours. And you kiss him back eagerly, arms around Vince’s shoulders.

Grinding your hips down into Vince you feel him already getting hard. And you needed him, more than you had ever felt you needed someone in your life.

“Our agreement,” Vince mutters against your lips.

You can feel his breath on your lips, can feel how hard he was below you, can feel every little shift of his fingers along your skin. “Vince, please,” you whimper.

“Fuck, you can’t say it like that and expect me not to cave,” Vince groans, hands on the hem of your t-shirt, yanking it up over your head swiftly. And it comes off easily, your lack of a bra leaving it easy for Vince to immediately bring his lips to your chest.

Tipping your head back you close your eyes, every single kiss, flick of his tongue over your nipples sends waves of anticipation through your body. “Vince,” you moan, rocking your hips back and forth against him, desperate for some kind of contact.

Reaching down Vince slides your pyjama shorts down your legs as you move from one leg to the other, helping him take them off. His hand slips between your bodies, fingers up along your folds towards your clit. He eases his way towards it, circling around your clit till your nails are digging into his back and your body is writhing in desperation. When he finally gets to your clit the wash of pleasure is enough to bring a quiet cry of relief from your lips.

“Fuck, I love hearing you, but I need you to be quiet,” Vince mutters in your ear as he brushes gentle circles over your clit. “Can you do that for me, baby girl?”

All you can manage to do is nod and hum out a muffled “mhm.”

“Good girl,” Vince mutters, replacing his fingers on your clit with his thumb, fingers travelling down towards your entrance, one finger sliding inside of you. You’re trying your hardest to stay quiet, head dropping down to Vince’s shoulder as you bite down on your bottom lip. “Fuck,” you whisper a few minutes later, a few muffled moans slipping from your lips as you reach your high.

Coming down from it you stay on Vince’s lap, pulling your head away from his shoulder to look into Vince’s eyes. Remaining where you were you reach down, hand guiding Vince towards your entrance, a heavy breath leaving your lips as you sink down onto him. Vince groans, hands on your hips as he shifts further down the bed. It’s unbelievably quiet in the room as the two of you find a rhythm, both of you fighting with every ounce of your self-control to remain quiet. You stay on top of Vince the entire time, both of you too scared to be too loud to switch positions. But it doesn’t take you long to reach your second wave of pleasure, your body already sensitive from the first. And it’s only a couple seconds after that Vince reaches his, groaning quietly as his grip on your hips tightens. When you climb off of him and collapse on the bed beside him Vince hops up, grabbing a towel for you and returning quickly to start the cleanup process.

After using the washroom you return to Vince’s bed, curling up at his side, head on his chest. “I shouldn’t sleep in here.”

Vince sighs, running his hand along your back. “We’re going to have to tell him.”

“Do we really, Romeo?” You joke, tugging the blankets up higher on your body despite the fact that you had just told Vince you weren’t spending the night.

There’s a few minutes of silence, Vince’s hand pausing on your back as if all his energy was being funnelled to his brain. “What?”

“Romeo and Juliet,” you tell him.

“You think I’m going to get your Shakespeare references?”

“At least you knew it was Shakespeare.”

Vince chuckles and shakes his head, “I’m not that stupid.”

“Well…,” you giggle, tipping your head back to look at Vince.

“Oh, really?” He laughs, grabbing your wrist and flipping you around onto your back. He hovers over top of you, pinning your wrists down. “That was kinda rude.”

“Too bad I’m actually into this,” you whisper, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you bite gently on your bottom lip.

Vince groans quietly, rolling off of you and flopping back onto his back. “Why is everything you do so hot?”

“Kinda glad you think that way, seems like it gives me an upper hand.”

“Looking like that you definitely have the upper hand, for sure,” Vince chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist as he pulls you into him. And the two of you continue talking, the whole time you were fully intending to make your way back to your own bed.

But you don’t ever make it out of Vince’s room that night.

“Get your lazy ass up.” You’re startled away by a voice yelling through Vince’s door, fist knocking a minute later. “We’re going to be late for practice again, enculé.”

“Oh, shit,” you mutter under your breath, grasping at the blankets on Vince’s bed yanking them up over your bare torso as you sit up. “Vince,” you whisper, shaking his somehow still sleeping form.

“Hmm?” He hums, rolling over to face you. “What’s wrong?”

But before you have the chance to say anything Vince’s door flies open and your eyes meet with Sammy’s. You watch him visibly try to process what was going on in front of him, eyes wide and fists clenched.

“Sammy,” you begin, watching him step back, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sammy, wait, I…it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” Sammy counters, obviously knowing that it was exactly what it looked like. But he’s already on his way back out of the bedroom and you make a move to stand up but Vince grabs your arm before you have the chance.

“Give him a second to process,” Vince suggests, glancing down at the way you were clutching his blankets to your naked body. “And maybe put some real clothes on.”

Nodding you crawl out of Vince’s bed, pulling on the pyjama’s you were wearing when you showed up in his room the night before. Vince gets up a minute later, pulling on a pair of jeans a hoodie, glancing at his phone. “We are going to be late,” he mutters, his back to you as he gathers his keys and wallet, jamming them into his pockets.

“Vince, I’m scared.”

Vince turns around quickly, eyes on you. You had your arms wrapped tight around your body, eyes teary. “Hey,” Vince says gently, walking over and pulling you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. “It’s okay, everything is going to be fine.”

“Did you see him? He looked so upset…he’s going to be mad, Vince. I can’t, I can’t handle him being mad at me.”

You didn’t even realize you were crying till Vince pulls back, reaching up and wiping away the tears from your cheeks. “He won’t be mad at you, he’ll be mad at me. I’m the one who started this.”

You’re caught off guard by this, laughing softly. “That’s a lie.”

“It’s not.”

“I kissed you on the couch,” you remind him, your hands wrapped around his forearms as you stare up into his eyes.

“I came home early and skipped going for drinks with the guys that night because Sammy told me he was going out for the night. I was hoping for what happened that night.”

You’re caught off guard by his confession, speechless and frozen in place.

Glancing over you see Sammy step into the doorway, slowly pulling away from Vince “We have to go.”

“Yeah,” Vince mutters, reaching over and grabbing your hand, squeezing it as he steps out of the bedroom with Sammy.

You watch them walk away in silence, not leaving Vince’ bedroom till you hear the front door close. Slowly making your way out of the bedroom you try to busy yourself with tidying the apartment to keep yourself thinking too much about the situation.

“Y/N,” Sammy’s voice calls later in the day, walking into the living room where you were sitting on your laptop, scrolling through apartment listings.

“Hey,” you say quietly, looking up at him. Reaching forward you slowly close your laptop, setting it down on the coffee table in front of you. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” he says, sitting down on the love seat beside the couch you were on. Sammy watches you glance in direction of the hallway. “He went to Jordan’s place.”

“Oh,” you whisper, feeling your heart sink a little.

“It wasn’t his idea,” Sammy tells you, noticing how disappointed you seemed. “I wanted to talk to you alone.”

“Oh,” you repeat, not knowing what to say. Your brother had always known the details of your relationships, telling him all about your crushes, dates, when boyfriends would upset you. This had been the first time you kept something like that a secret from him, and now you were regretting it. Perhaps if you had told him earlier, when you first started to develop feelings for Vince things would have been different. But now it seemed like you two knew there was something wrong with what you were doing, needing to keep it a secret.

The silence in the room is heavy, and it feels painful as you fidget in your seat. Sammy staring at you for a few minutes before finally saying anything. “Why?”

Staring down at the ground you try to come up with an answer to his question. “I like him,” you whisper, shrugging.

“Why him? Did you not even think about what’ll happen when things end between you two?”

“That’s really optimistic,” you mumble, eyes focused on your fingers as you pick a few pieces of lint off of your jeans.

“Well what?” Sammy asks, voice raising in frustration. “You going to marry him?”

Finally looking up at Sammy you roll your eyes, sighing loudly.

“God, now I see why mom got so mad every time you rolled your eyes,” Sammy mutters. “Why the hell are you even rolling your eyes?”

“Because I’m not even thinking about marriage…with Vince or anyone else. That’s crazy,” you reply, your voice getting louder and louder with each word.

“So you’re going to break up with him, or he’s going to break up with you and then my friendship with him is going to be fucked,” Sammy snaps. “You really didn’t consider that? That you’re ruining my friendship with Vince…and for what?”

“Stop yelling at me,” you yell back, hoping up from the couch and staring down at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I don’t know what to say, I like him.” Sniffling you reach up, wiping away tears from underneath your eyes.

“I’m not okay with it.”

Wrapping your arms tight around your body you try to compose yourself, try to stop the tears from continuously flooding your eyes. You hated that you cried during conflict, hated that when it was conflict with Sammy that reaction was always heightened. “What do you want me to do then?”

Sammy glares up at you, shaking his head. “You already fucked it up, it’s too late for you to do anything.”

It feels like someone just punched you in the stomach, physical pain radiating through your body in response to his words. But you can’t think of a single defence for yourself. “Fuck you,” is all you manage to croak out before turning around and hurrying in the direction of the front door.

“Where are you going?” Sammy calls, following after you.

“I don’t know,” you tell him honestly, yanking on a jacket you had hanging up on a hook beside the door. “Does it really matter? I mean, I’m such a fuck up anyway.”

“I didn’t say that,” Sammy exclaims, watching you pull on a pair of shoes. “Can you just stop? We’re not kids anymore, you can’t just fucking run away.”

“No, we’re not,” you snap, standing up straight again. “So why are you treating me like one?”

“Because it’s my goddamn life you’re messing with.”

“You don’t have to be such an asshole,” you whisper, tears now streaming down your face with no chance of you being able to contain them. “I’m sorry I developed feelings for your friend, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about, I’m sorry I acted on it…I’m sorry I came here, I don’t know what you want me to say.” You’re reaching for the doorknob a moment later, yanking the door open.

“Don’t say that, stop, Y/N, where the fuck are you even going to go?” Sammy asks, reaching for your arm which you pull away from him before he has the chance to grab you. “You can’t just wander around alone crying."

“Well it’s not like this apartment is feeling overly hospitable right now,” you tell him, wiping the tears off your cheeks. “I never would have thought you would be such an asshole over me falling for a guy. I’m sorry he’s your friend, I wasn’t trying to make that happen. In fact, I was trying not to. But you don’t really care, do you? Because the situation isn’t perfect for you so why should you even try to accept it?”

With that you leave the apartment. You take an Uber to one of your new friend’s houses, thankful that she had replied before your Uber even got there that she was free and wanted to hang out. After a brief explanation of what was going on you settle down on her couch, her puppy curled up in your lap as you two talk, able to get your mind off of the situation with Sammy and Vince, even if only for a short period of time.

You two order take out and lay on the couch, sending each other dumb tiktoks for the majority of the night.

‘Are you okay?’ It’s a text from Vince and you switch from the tiktok app to your messages.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I’m at my friend’s place. You’re home now?’

“Vince texted, I think he just got home,” you tell your friend, sitting up on her couch with a sigh.

“Did he say anything about the situation?” She asks, turning her head to look over at you.

Shaking your head you look down at your screen, watching the three dots inside a text bubble, waiting to get the text he was typing. ‘Yes, when are you coming back?’

‘I don’t know. I guess soon, I just don’t know what to do.’

‘About what?’

‘Sammy’ ‘Us’

‘Can I come pick you up?’

And twenty minutes later you’re leaving your friend’s house, promising to keep her updated on the situation.

“Hey,” you greet as you get into Vince’s car, glancing over at him while pulling on your seatbelt.

“Hey.” Vince reaches over, placing his hand on your thigh, squeezing gently. “How did it go with Sammy?”

“Not great,” you admit, placing your hand on top of Vince’s, sliding your fingers between his and folding your hand over his. “Did you guys talk?”

“A bit.” Vince says, pulling out of the parking lot of the apartment. “What did he say to you?”

“That I’m messing up his life,” you mumble, your eyes filling with tears. “Basically I fucked up and whatever the fallout from this is it’s all my fault.”

Vince’s hand clenches around the steering wheel as he drives with no particular destination in mind. Of course Sammy was one of his best friends and that wasn’t about to change over one fight. But friends didn’t always agree on everything, didn’t always get along. And by the way Vince’s jaw was clenched, eyes glaring through the windshield in front of him, it was clear that was the case. “That’s such bullshit. You know that’s not true...right?”

“What if it’s not?” you croak. “Are we being selfish? Your friendship with Sammy, jeopardizing that when this ends?”

“It doesn’t have to end poorly and ruin anything,” Vince points out. “It doesn’t have to end,” he adds.

“Vince,” you whisper, glancing down at your hands folded together. How perfect they fit, how comfortable you were with him. “That’s crazy to say right now.”

“I know,” he admits, squeezing your hand. “So it might not last forever, but no matter what happens we’ve already started...whatever this is, so why does it matter when it ends?”

You can’t really argue with that point. Your options are end it now or give it time, see how things play out. “But…Sammy,” you whisper.

“Give him time.”

The two of you drive around aimlessly for a little while longer till he pulls into the parking lot of the apartment building, glancing over at you. “You okay?

Nodding you pull your hand from his, resting it on the console as you lean across it and Vince is quick to react, bringing his hand to the side of you face to cup your cheek. His lips are gentle but eager, moving with intent but not pushing too far. And for a moment it feels like everything else has faded away, worries and stress blurring till they’re no longer visible anymore. “How do we do this?” You whisper, pulling back from Vince.

“Do what?” He asks, sitting back in his seat, body angled towards you.

“Deal with being in there, together, with Sammy.”

Vince is quiet for a moment, tapping at his steering wheel. “We’ll just figure it out when we’re in there, see what he’s like.”

Nodding slowly you open the car door, slipping out and walking towards the apartment with Vince. With every step closer you feel a growing anxiety, each and every possibility running through your mind. Would Sammy still be mad? Would he try to pick up the argument right where it ended? Would it be worse if he just decided to ignore it? Would you all need to sit down and have a conversation like an awkward family meeting nobody wants to be a part of?

When you step into the apartment after Vince you hear the sound of the TV from the living room. Slowly making your way into the living room you notice Sammy with an Xbox controller in his hand, eyes trained on the TV. “Hey,” you greet, sitting down on the couch and alternating between watching the game he was playing and glancing at Sammy.

“Hey,” Sammy mutters, finishing up his game before tossing the controller down onto the coffee table and sitting up to turn and face you. “Did running away solve everything?”

Shaking your head you pull your legs up to your chest on the couch. “Should I have stayed here and let you yell at me about fucking up your life instead?”

“I didn’t say you were fucking up my life.”

“Maybe not in those exact words,” you retort. “But you may as well have.”

Sammy sighs and leans forward, his elbows on his knees, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry,” he grumbles, looking over at you. “I just…fuck, I hate it so much. Like why him?” His tone is different now, lighter, easier than the last conversation.

“I mean…look at him,” you say, trying your best to to lighten the mood even more.

Sammy chuckles under his breath, shaking his head. “I guess I really should have seen it sooner,” he comments, staring down at the ground.

“What do you mean?”

Sammy looks up from the ground, eyes meeting yours. “You’re exactly his type and he’s been spending way more time just hanging around here since you got here. I’m such an idiot for not thinking this would happen. I pretty much set it up.”

You wait a few seconds in silence, processing that information. You had really just assumed Vince spent that much time at his apartment normally. You figured they were on the road a lot, when they were back in St. Louis he would just want to relax at home playing video games and watching TV. You never would have thought that you played a role In keeping him there. And you definitely wouldn’t have assumed you were exactly his type either. “So you can’t really be mad then…you said it, you set it up.”

Sammy laughs, sitting up straighter and shaking his head. “I didn’t say that either…But I’m not mad, I don’t like it…maybe that’ll change, I don’t know. But I’m not mad at you. You know I can’t stay mad at you.”

You smile softly, standing up and walking over to the couch he was on, dropping down beside him and throwing your arms around him dramatically. “Good, because I can’t handle you being mad at me,” you tell him. Pulling back you let your arms drop from around him. “So, will you come look at apartments with me tomorrow so that Vince and I can-.”

“Stop,” Sammy interrupts, pushing you away playfully. “I don’t want to hear it, you’re so gross,” he says, both of you laughing as you lean back in response to Sammy pushing you.

Out of the corner of your eye you see Vince walk into the room hesitantly and you give him a reassuring smile. “Sammy admitted he actually set us up.”

“I did not,” Sammy exclaims, laughing. “I said I pretty much did…not on purpose though.”

“Close enough…I’m going to make dinner. I don’t know how you two are going to survive when I get my own apartment,” you laugh, standing up and walking over towards Vince, grabbing his hand and pulling him with you towards the kitchen.

“You can come over and cook us dinner,” Sammy calls as you leave the living room.

Shaking your head you make it to the kitchen, only there for a second before Vince is pulling you into him, leaning down and kissing you gently. “I knew it would be okay,” Vince mumbles against your lips.

Bringing one hand to the back of his neck you press your body closer to his, confident that Sammy would be avoiding the kitchen now that you and Vince were in there alone. “No you didn’t,” you giggle. “You just said that because I was panicking.”

“Kind of,” Vince admits.

“Well I’m glad it worked out,” you whisper, sliding your hands to his shoulders. “Because if we never got around to you pinning me down like you did last night I’d be really disappointed,” you joke, looking up at Vince through your eyelashes with a mischievous smile.

Vince groans, shaking his head. “So that’s all I am to you?” Vince asks, playing along.

“Of course,” you joke. Pulling out of his grasp you begin to prepare dinner, but the absence of touch doesn’t last long, Vince stepping behind you and placing his hands on your hips. “Someone is a little needy.”

“I’m hurt after your last comment,” he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, watching you chop up some vegetables.

Pausing you turn your head to the side, looking up at Vince. “Fine, I like you for more than just sex,” you tell him.

“So when are you letting me take you on another date…a real one.”

“Anytime,” you tell him, glancing over at him as he stands beside you, leaning against the counter. You can’t help but get caught up in staring at him for a little too long. A few months ago you never would have imagined your trip to St. Louis would even last this long, let alone end with you moving there and falling for a boy. And of course you weren’t sure how it would end, but for the time being you were happy with the new adventure you were embarking on.

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn fanfiction #vince dunn fanfic #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl one shot #st louis blues imagine #st louis blues fanfic #st louis blues fanfiction #st Louis blues one shot #hockey fanfic #hockey fic #hockey one shot #Hockey Fanfiction

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loquaciousquark · 4 years ago

Text

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E113 (Oct. 27, 2020)

Good evening and good night, lovely people of the world! We’re on the internet and ready to go. Tonight’s guests are Travis Willingham and Sam Riegel. This will be calm, controlled, and sane, I can feel it. Brian points out it’s been seven months since either of them were on Talks. Oof. (Sam asks if it’s been going the whole time without him. Bigger oof.) Travis keeps sneaking bites out of an acai bowl or something and tries to look sneaky about it, and I laugh every time because he’s just...so big. He’s such a big person.

(Brian is wearing a lobstrosity shirt. He and Travis talk about Dark Tower for a bit; then Sam tries to get into the conversation: “Is that the thing from It?” Brian: “Is what the thing from It?” Sam: “Is that lobster the clown from It? I’m not very literate. Is that a Langolier? Is that a Shawshank?”)

Announcements: none! Maybe they just forgot. We’ve been talking about Sam’s spooky skeleton decorations for like five minutes. Brian suggests taking them to Travis’s house. Travis: “That’s the fastest way to get to the smell of burning plastic.” Brian: “Speaking of your girlfriend...”

On Avantika: Fjord wouldn’t call it a relationship as much as a casual sexual interaction. Not official! Super not official!!

The first sea voyage wasn’t great for Fjord, but he tried to be thoughtful about preparing for this one before they left: praying, kneeling at the bow of the ship, etc. He’s a little disappointed the Wildmother didn’t even throw him a “yo, fam” heads up.

They weren’t sure how to resolve the conflict at first, since Avantika went for Fjord rather than the crystal. No one expected it to get exposed in that way. Travis thought the necklace was a pocket dimension and was alarmed to learn it wasn’t. Travis wants it destroyed along with the third gateway, so until they are he won’t rest easy.

Everyone enjoyed watching them all fail on the battlefield again. (Sam: “You used [Counterspell] so effectively!”) Travis thought he’d said Thunder Step, which would imply Avantika was running, rather than Thunder Wave. Sam says it’s fine since none of them have that spell and he wouldn’t know it anyway.

It’s very difficult for Veth to find reasons to stay with the M9. She loves the adventures and making a difference, but she also wants to come home and have weekends and have a husband and life. “She’s a career girl!” He’s very excited about the possibilities of Caleb’s transportation effectively creating an easy commute for her. He also, as a player, doesn’t want to be the person who’s always leaving the party. “My characters wanna roam!”

Travis was fully tilted that Avantika might have gotten away right before the break. He doesn’t think he could have focused on Vess DeRogna’s task knowing Avantika had gotten away; he was seriously working out how Fjord would leave the party to go make a last stand at the third gate if she’d escaped.

Sam looooves how Matt plays Yeza, but it honestly makes him feel a little worse at how encouraging he is for Veth to chase her dreams. “He’s always like - go shine! Go blossom!” He wants to have the conversation about Yeza feeling a little ignored. It’s fun to share the tales of adventures with Luc & Yeza.

Travis says there’s no way it’s Molly--it’s all Lucien. They don’t know if it was a resurrection, if he’s undead, possessed, etc. Everyone--everyone--rags on Taliesin’s accent work. Brian surreptitiously claims Ashly was brought on to relieve him of the burden of the accent. Poor Ashly, ha!

Initially, Travis landed on the Oath of the Ancients, but it had more nature & pacifism in it than he felt fit Fjord very well. Many of them also had a focus on good & lawfulness, which also didn’t feel quite right; he also wasn’t that vengeful for some of the others. He & Matt got together and discussed options. Matt asked what Travis liked about Fjord; Fjord’s love for the ocean was a huge part of it, since Travis himself also loves the ocean & scuba diving, and so Matt created a custom oath for him. Travis does not plan to post its details, but he thinks Matt will at some point.

Cosplay of the Week! a lovely Scanlan by Air Bubbles Cosplay! Sam tells us the “canon” Scanlan cosplay was actually borrowed hodgepodge, and the boots were falling off all day.

It was really cool to see how Yeza & Luc have made a home in Nicodranas. Felderwin was okay, but kind of your basic D&D fishing village, and she likes the Nicodranas is much better. She’s confident & comfortable knowing her family is safe and sound.

Why is Fjord so interested in finding Sabian? To him, post-orphanage, his time with Vandren was the best of his life & the most love he’d ever received, because he mattered & had worth. It was taken by someone he’d known basically his whole life, so Fjord is not going to let that go. “That fuckin’ bill needs to be paid, my friend.”

Sam acknowledges that he should NOT have looked at his phone in re: the Vilya reveal, but it was pretty surprising! He can’t believe none of them recognized it! Travis points out the M9 had never met, heard of, or known anything about Vilya, so it’s not that surprising. Brian points out Matt has also done a really good job keeping the two campaigns separate, so any references were tasteful. Sam marvels that it was so well done: it was tasteful, had emotional and story impact... “That Matt. He’s getting better!”

Liam texted Sam back something like “oh SHIT.”

Knowing Veth had a chance to help someone else return to her child made Veth feel almost karmically forgiven for being away from her kid, but it also made Veth a little guilty--”this lady wants to desperately return home, shouldn’t I want to go home too?” Caleb’s teleportation spell couldn’t have come a better time.

Sam wants Caleb & Astrid to get back together (well, he says “hump each other”), and Dani’s eyebrows climb off her forehead. Veth/Nott really thinks Caleb needs to have a roll in ze hay, and feels like after meeting her that there is a kindness or vulnerability to her that could be worthwhile. Travis thinks she feels like someone tethered, that it feels like she has a bomb or something in her chest that’ll explode if she tries to leave. Sam thinks Eadwulf is super cool. None of these names are spelled like I think.

Travis found the dinner super frustrating, because he felt Caleb was trying to walk a diplomatic line and he just wanted to backhand Trent.

Fjord is still coming to terms with his feelings for Jester, and the feelings are definitely real, but there’s a lot of timing that he’s considering and he also wants to figure out what the relationship is like outside of constant tension and battle. Fjord is also having trouble figuring out how to exercise the ability to display affection as well since he’s never received them, and is feeling out how to give and receive them. “It’s fine now, because he’s feeling it, but once you say it out loud, or once you come to a point where you make it known to the other side, then what happens? It might be ruined. It might be broken. Or it might not be!” The moment with the porcelain unicorn was too good not to try. Travis also sighs that he’s not a romance D&D guy, “but now I am! Fuckin’ Laura Bailey!” He’s definitely feeling it out and will see how it unfolds in the game.

If Jester hadn’t let go of the Traveler, Fjord would have either attacked the Traveler or the Moonweaver and tried to kick them both off.

Sam doesn’t think the Traveler’s realized yet what a dick he is. Brian thinks it may not happen in this campaign, but agrees the full weight of what he deserves hasn’t been felt yet. Travis: “Yeah, he came to the edge, but it didn’t cost him anything.” Brian: “Yeah, he’s a real edgelord.”

Fanart of the Week! a beautiful portrait of Molly in the snow by @claygryphon on twitter.

Veth acknowledges that they work for shady people with shady pasts, so Vess DeRogna isn’t her first rodeo, but this time it’s personal. It’s Jaws 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sam can’t commit to actual actions, since Vess is like level 20 or something, but “I will get some kinda revenge. Be it petty or significant, I will get revenge.”

How are they feeling about being in Eiselcross? They’ve only just landed, so not sure yet. The cold is intimidating. They’re excited to explore a new island that’s part of Wildemount, especially with the river of lava running through it. “It’s icy with lava? Sounds like a Dairy Queen.”

There’s still a ton of unknowns regarding the Tombtakers, Vess, the nature of their job, and who’s here on whose orders. They’re excited to see how it’s all going to play out. Travis laughs that he doesn’t take notes, he’s just here to fight things. It just washes over him when Matt starts talking about names and places. “It’ll reveal itself in time. [...] I don’t write those notes down. I don’t even know how to spell it off the bat.” I have never identified more with Travis. Sam actually does pay attention and take notes and was really impressed by Marisha’s dive.

Veth became interested in branding her own spellcraft as soon as she saw Caleb doing it. “That’s what the influencer agents are gonna be looking at. It would be nice to leave the world better than we found it, but also with some branded spells.”

What were Fjord’s thoughts on dropping so much money on the ring & the Ioun stone? It wasn’t about money for Fjord, it was about a cool thing to acquire. It’s why he saves money in his campaign. Caleb needs “as much of a flak jacket as he can get.” He also REJECTS the idea of buyer’s remorse on the ring and touts the effectiveness it’ll have on the lava river.

Travis talks about his old coins - a 340AD coin he bought at a ren faire and a 120BC coin that was a gift from a friend.

Sam marvels at the love and thought that Caleb put into the tower. Sam points out they forgot to go to the top two floors altogether. Travis: “Did the mansion get as much careful planning from Scanlan as the tower did from Caleb?” Sam: Absolutely not. But they were still thinking small in C1, figuring out how things went, and they didn’t have as much detail in their heads yet.

And that’s all the time we have for tonight! We end on everyone whispering way too close into their mics and tapping fingernails on mason jars. A fitting end to this crazy episode, I think.

Is it Thursday yet?

#talks machina #talks machina spoilers #critical role #critical role spoilers #long post for ts

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thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

Indruck 22 for the meet uglies?

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

you’re on a date with this awful, awful person who keeps getting under my skin because my friend and I have been eavesdropping all night and your date says something that makes me snap … I thought it was a first date, not a three year relationship

“...such a waste of money. I mean, why spend all that to get something tacky on your skin?”

Indrid rolls his eyes at Barclay from across the counter of the Amnesty Lodge coffee shop, the cooks arms and hands sporting a plethora of tattoos rivaled only by Indrid’s collection.

“I dunno, l like the one I got.” The other man--who seems to be on the worst first date of his life--shrugs.

“You honestly think you and Juno couldn’t have spent that money on something else in college?”

“I mean maybe but, uh, we were earnin our own cash, figured we got to decide what to spend it on.”

“Hmmmm” the first guy sips his coffee, “sounds like a typical excuse for someone who doesn’t want to admit a mistake.”

“C’mon, that ain’t fair-”

“Ugh, stop saying ain’t! I can’t take someone who talks like that to meet my family.” Before the target of his disdain can respond, he snaps his fingers, “hey, buddy, can I get a refill or what?”

“The station for black coffee refills is right there, sir.” Barclay indicates the very obvious corner of dispensers, his voice the kind of calm that Indrid knows means he’s memorizing this guys face to warn other staff about.

They earn a brief reprieve while The Asshole leaves the table. When he returns, he’s shaking his head.

“God, have you looked at the photos they’ve got up? Who the fuck wants to look at bones?”

Indrid quickly glances at his friend to be sure he’s permitted to start a fight. Barclay nods.

“Quite a lot of people.” Indrid spins on his stool. “I’ve sold a number of them just from the display here. So perhaps you could keep your rude, unclultured, close-minded, obnoxious mouth shut.”

The man balks, looks to his companion for help. He offers none, mouth trying to form words and only coming out with halves of ones (except for the “fucks” which are plentiful).

“Oh my fucking god, you agree with him! That’s it, I’m out.” The Asshole pushes back from the table and storms out. The remaining man leaps up, panicked.

“Fuck.”

“It’s okay man, shitty first dates happen to all of us.” Barclay offers from beside the bakery case.

“I mean yeah, they do, but that wasn’t one of ‘em. That was my boyfriend of three fuckin years.” He dashes out of the shop, sparing a final glare at Indrid as he does.

Indrid trades a sheepish look with his friend, “Oops.”

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

“I’m glad you finally get to meet Duck!” Aubrey grins over her shoulder as she and Indrid wind down the hall at the office Kepler magazine.

Founded by childhood friends, Kepler worked a combination of print and video content that saw its subscribers and revenue climb while other publications struggled to stay afloat. Aubrey was head of the video team, though she contributed content to the magazine in the form of interviews about environmental activists of color and sustainable gift guides.

Kepler has three sections: travel, science, and environmental writing. Indrid now has the honor of being one of their primary photographers. He started two weeks ago and is thoroughly enjoying his work and the company of the other staff. The only person he’s yet to meet is Duck Newton, one of the founders and main reporters, as he was off on an assignment.

Aubrey knocks, gets a friendly “come in” and ushers Indrid into the office.

Looking at him from behind the desk is The Asshole’s Boyfriend, whose face goes from open and friendly to confused, then to perturbed.

“You okay?”

“I, uh, fuck, n-ye.” Duck sighs, “remember how I told you Alex and I split after a shitty date in a coffee shop?” He points at Indrid, “this was the fella who, uh, expedited the process.”

“Ohhhh.” Aubrey frowns, then shrugs with a smile, “whelp, he’s our new photographer. We’ll see you around.” She hurries them outside once more, shutting the doors. As they head back the way they came, she whispers, “his ex was a huge fucking dick, so if word gets out everyone is gonna think you’re a fucking hero.”

“He didn’t seem to see it that way.”

“It was only a few weeks ago, so it’s still pretty fresh. He’ll heal from it okay, Duck’s a tough cookie. And I’m sure you guys’ll get along eventually.”

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

“Juno, please, you gotta come with me.”

“I would bud, except it’s April and I’s fifth wedding anniversary that weekend. And no, we already have plans, so we can’t just take over this assignment as part of the celebration.”

“Fuck” Duck leans back in his chair.

“...You really asked everyone?”

“Ye-no, fuck-”

“Duck.”

“I ain’t asked Indrid yet.”

“There it is.” Juno smirks, “you gotta ask; besides, we were gonna have him do illustrations for the feature, but photos would be even better. And we both know it ain’t his fault y’all broke up.”

Duck nods, promises to ask Indrid after lunch. He finds the photographer flipping through his files from his shoot for next issues cover. His silver hair is pulled back, red glasses sitting on the desk beside him so he can gauge color correctly.

Duck kind of wants to pull the silver locks just to see what happens. It’s not his fault Indrid looks like his Sophomore roommate who he had a raging crush on, only with more tattoos and a much more captivating face. Pity he helped fuck up Duck’s last chance at a stable relationship.

“Hey, Indrid, you got a minute?”

The photographer cocks his head.

“I, uh, so we got a feature on this whole chunk of places touting themselves as ‘sustainable romantic getaways. I booked a bunch of places, but a lot of ‘em will turn me away if I turn up solo. And the person I was supposed to go with ain’t an option any more. Neither is anyone else. You get my drift?”

Indrid pinches the bridge of his nose, “you realize this is a terrible idea, yes?”

“Hey, we been workin together just fine. Ain’t we? Wait, fuck, I ain’t been treatin you bad even when I’m tryin to be professional, am I?”

“No, you’ve been perfectly polite. But there’s a world of difference between being cordial in an office and going on what’s functionally a vacation together.”

Duck crosses his arms, “I ain’t about to lose eight hundred bucks in deposits.”

Indrid blinks, then chuckles, “Fair. What day do we leave?”

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

The temperature rises and the air dries as they speed south on Five. Indrid fiddles with games on his phone as cover for the list of “will this be a disaster or not” he’s mentally constructing. So far the signs are positive; Duck isn’t very chatty, but neither is Indrid. They have similar tastes in music, which makes much more sense when Duck explains he was a burn-out in high school. He also isn’t agitated by Indrid stimming, which makes it easier for the photographer to relax and enjoy the drive.

But they haven’t spoken about the elephant in the car, and Indrid resolves not to be the first to do so. No point in poking the sore spot if he doesn’t have to.

They stop at a Sinclair for gas. Duck reaches into his glovebox for something as Indrid climbs out, comes away with a photo instead. It’s one of those ones from a photobooth, faded but unmistakably him and his ex. His face falls for a second and Indrid scurries into the Dairy Queen attached to the convenience store.

As he waits in line, he turns one fact over in his mind like a picture he’s trying to make sense of; it would be easier to let their awkward first meeting go if he did not genuinely like the other man. He’s charming, in a quiet way, and very friendly. He’s built like the guys Indrid always got useless crushes on in college, usually third tier frat boys or--if he was lucky--a bear a few years older than him who liked his men on the odd side.

He doesn’t like seeing Duck sad. The sadness isn’t something he can fix. The stalemate between these two facts annoy the living hell out of him.

He’s next in line, glances up to confirm what he wants, and gets an idea. Last week, he overheard Duck talking with Aubrey about roadtrip snacks of their youth.

“One chocolate dipped cone, on me.” He holds the treat out to the other man.

“Oh. Uh, thanks. These are my favorite from when I was a kid.” Duck’s smile returns.

“I remembered. Or, ah, that is, I remembered you saying that.”

The smile changes, “you didn’t need to.”

“I wanted to. Shall we?”

“Yep. Uh, you gonna be able to drive and eat that at the same time?”

“Do not doubt my ability to consume ice cream under difficult circumstances, Duck Newton.”

They make it to their first stop unscathed. It’s what Duck refers to as, “eco-bespoke,” a fancy spa and hotel built in a former school, the kind that was made in an era of beautiful instead of grim educational architecture.

“Goats!” Indrid claps his hands, delighted, at the two animals stabled near the main building. One of it’s supposed sustainable elements is the small farm that helps feed the on-site restaurant. Duck smirks and Indrid suddenly feels the gulf in their upbringings, “Ah, I suppose they’re not exciting to someone who grew up in a rural town.”

“Nah, but they’re damn cute.” Duck checks the tag on their room keys, “okay, we’re in the green building, room 2B.”

Indrid snaps some photos as they cross the grounds, more to remind himself of things he wants to come back to later than anything else. He’s busy studying a strange mark on the wall by their door when Duck says, “I can sleep on the floor.”

“Why--oh” he stares at the single bed, “in retrospect, we should have seen this coming.”

“Yeah.” Duck drops his bag near the closet, slides the door to look for spare linens. Indrid summons his courage, finds it lacking, and so bolsters it with nonchalance.

“It’s a king, we could easily share.”

“You’d, uh, you’d be okay with that?”

“It is only narrow definitions of masculinity that mean something like sharing a bed is inherently sexual.”

He’s not entirely sure that made sense, but Duck nods, “You want the right side or left?”

“Right, please.”

“Great. And, uh, Indrid? Thanks for rollin with all this. I, uh, I know it’s fuckin weird but this is a huge feature for the magazine and we woulda been fucked if we had to pull it.”

Indrid gingerly sits on his side of the bed, “You’re welcome. And I don;t know about you, but” he smiles, catches Duck watching him intently in the mirror, “I’m enjoying myself so far.”

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

“Why has an activity that renders one incapable of using their thighs been deemed ‘romantic?” Indrid mumbles, face-down on the bed to offer his burning legs relief.

“Fuck if I know.” Duck groans as he sits next to him, “Kinda fun, but if I was doin this to get you in bed, I’d be fucked.”

“I am in bed” Indrid teases.

“And if I tried to put the moves of you you’d toss me outta it. Assumin I could even move myself that close.” Duck nudges him, then clears his throat, “uh, I mean, not like we’d be doin that-”

“Nono, point taken.” Indrid rolls over. The horseback ride was one of the “couples exclusives;” a trot out to a beautiful oasis for a gourmet picnic. Indrid got some excellent shots, including one of Duck with honeycomb dripping down his chin, which he will not be offering up to editors but may keep for himself. For it’s beautiful composition, of course.

Mercifully, their next stop is the pool. Indrid settles himself in the hot tub while Duck types some notes on his phone. Then his friend doffs his bathrobe and Indrid may as well be in a dream. In the steaming, echoing paradise of multi-colored tile and ecstatic shouts, Duck stands like one of the angelic fountains at its heart has come to life.

“You okay there, ‘Drid?”

“Yes.” He hopes his lack of glasses means Duck will mistake his blatant staring for trying to get his vision in focus.

“Then scoot your cu--uh, your butt over so I can sit down.”

Indrid gladly moves aside, finds he’s so comfortable with Duck pressed against him that he begins nodding off in the warm lull of the water. When the other man nudges him, saying it’s time to go, he finds a strong arm draped over his shoulder and Duck’s smile the most relaxed it’s been all trip.

Their last task at this location is to locate the speakeasy somewhere on the premises and order the “lovers delight” (only available to couples). To do so, they follow clues purple light bulbs, doors that lead to tiny, art-filled rooms, secret staircases, and a false supply closet to a dark wooded, dimly lit, incredibly pleasant bar looking out over the property. The drink turns out to be a massive goblet (more a bowl that someone stuck on a stem) of ginger syrup, prickly pear juice, and silver tequila.

It also turns out to be incredibly strong. So much so that when they get back to the room, Indrid loses his balance getting his shoes off, which makes Duck laugh, which results in both of them flopping onto the bed.

“S’fun. You’re, you’re real good at the clues. Should, should go to an escape room when we get home.”

“Wasn’t, hic, that hard. They, they want, hic, want you to find it.”

“Take the compliment, goofus” Duck pushes his shoulder.

“You’re, hic, the goofus.”

“Nuh uh.” Duck sticks his tongue out. Indrid does the same, then licks his cheek just to hear him laugh.

Duck rolls onto his back, giggles dying down to a contemplative sigh, “He woulda hated this.”

“Your ex?” Indrid crawls to stay close to him.

“Yeah. Everythin I like, or, or thought was fun, he thought it was a waste of time or just plain worthless. He, he wasn’t like that at the start. Dunno what changed. Probably me. Probably got borin. Got worse.”

Indrid is not so drunk that he believes he can fix this. But he’s just drunk enough to stroke Duck’s cheek and murmur, “No. Nono, hic, you’re th’best.”

He doesn’t remember falling asleep after that, but he must have, because his phone is beeping at them to get up and face the day. They do so with to-go coffees in one hand and their bags in the other, neither speaking of the night before until Indrid has turned the car into deeper desert.

“Sorry for gettin on a thing about Alex last night.”

“It was a three year relationship; goodness knows you’re allowed to have feelings about it.”

“Even relief?”

Indrid glances at him, “Of course.”

His friend leans back in his seat, sipping from his travel mug, “That’s half the reason I been in such a funk. I feel like I oughta be sad, then I feel guilty for the fact I’m relieved instead. But if I really was that unhappy in it, why did I hang around so long? Maybe that was the best I deserved, y’know?”

“I know the feeling, yes, but I can’t say I agree with your statement. You deserve someone who sees you for who you are and adores it, not someone who loved what you once were and became bitter when you grew.”

Duck looks at the console between them, at Indrid’s chipped black nails and the hand he hopes isn’t shaking. He squeezes it a moment longer than necessary, “Thanks, ‘Drid. It’s nice to hear that from someone who’s still gettin to know me. Juno and them, they’re my friends, I know they’re in my corner but, uh, sometimes I worry that anyone new is gonna find me dull or somethin like that.”

“I’m sure some people would, just as some take one look at me and decide I’m a weirdo who they don’t want to deal with. But I can say with certainty that I don’t find you that way.”

Duck grins all the way to their destination. It’s a quirky trailer park full of amenities and built mostly from salvaged materials, doing it’s best to run off the grid. It also gives each trailer a theme, and Indrid flaps his hands when he sees they’ve been booked in the “The Cramps” themed one.

“Hell yeah.” Duck mirrors his excitement as they open the door. Their haven from the desert sun is full of kitschy horror artifacts and a much smaller bed than the previous spot. There’s no debate this time; Indrid settles on the right, Duck on the left, and they settle in for a nap before venturing out to work.

They take in the bar, the arcade, the mini-golf course, and the “couples supply room” (“damn, didn’t know they made eggnog scented massage oil” “ooh, I like how that smells”), but Duck turns out to be most excited to rent a stargazing kit and guide Indrid out into the dark desert. They’re on their backs, shoulder to shoulder and munching chocolate covered fruit, when he discovers the source of his glee.

“There!” Duck points to a crackling streak of silver.

“A meteor” Indrid wiggles happily as a second one speeds through his view.

“It’s the Perseids, and this is a damn good place to watch ‘em. Look, there’s another one.” He’s breathless each time and Indrid’s heart threatens to beat hard enough to crack the earth at the sound.

“Did you ever wish on stars when you were little?”

“Yep. Never asked for much worth notin, though I’m pretty sure I wished once to just wake up and be a boy. Or, uh, guess for everyone to see me as one. What about you?”

“I wished...I wished for someone to do things like this with, some who’d kiss me and tell me that they didn’t need to wish because what they wanted was right here.. I love the world, I want to see so much of it, that’s half the reason I chose my profession.. But when I was young I thought I’d be with someone when I did. I thought it was easy to find that kind of love. To be worthy of it.”

“Hey now” Duck rolls onto his side. He’s backlit by the moon, meteors zipping behind him as if they, just like Indrid, are pulled to him, “what happened to all the stuff you said in the car about deservin someone who adores you?”

“It’s easy to apply such things to you, harder to believe them about myself.”

“How come?”

“Because you are everything a sensible person could want in a man and I am not.”

“That’s where you’re wrong” He sets a hand next to Indrid’s shoulder, “Can think of at least one sensible fella who wants to get to know you a whole hell of a lot.”

“He’ll get to know me plenty, we’re co-workers.”

“There are different kinds of gettin to know someone.” Duck dips down, brushes their noses together, “for instance, the last few days I’ve gotten to know you’re a damn good travel companion and that Ned was smart to hire you. But I’ve also gotten to know there’s some things about you I really wanna know.”

“Such as?” Indrid’s fingers find Duck’s sides.

“Such as whether you wanna go on a date with me when we get back. No assignment, just the two of us gettin some time together.”

“I want nothing more.” He leans up to kiss him, feels him shudder happily when their lips meet. Indrid wonders how long it’s been since someone kissed Duck like they meant it, and resolves to make up any deficits with an enthusiasm that would put horny eighteen year olds to shame.

Indrid nips Ducks ear, “you know, were it not for the threat of mosquitos and scorpions, I’d suggest we make good use of the non-food items in that basket.”

Ducks grin lights Indrid up like a comet, “Then howsabout we go test just how conducive our trailer is to romance?”

Indrid kisses him adoringly, “Lead on, sweetheart; I’ll follow you anywhere.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugy

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jjmaybanksbaby · 4 years ago

Text

Where It Leads (Rafe Cameron)

Summer II

Part 03: Been A While

series masterlist | previous part

summary: Your second summer in the Outer Banks becomes a whole lot more complicated when you realize a year away from Rafe hasn't changed your feelings for him at all.

a/n: And we're back with summer two - the summer before sophomore year whoop whoop! Writing this gave me butterflies so I hope you have the same feeling reading it! I always love hearing y’all’s commentary so don't be shy to scream about your favorite parts back at me.

word count: 2.5k words

Your mom reached over and tapped you gently on the arm.

"Put your phone away please, y/n. You can text Evan when we land."

"We're not even moving yet." You replied.

As if on cue, the pilot's voice echoed over the intercom. "Good morning passengers. This is your captain speaking. Welcome onboard Flight 4B7 with service from Portland to the Outer Banks. We ask that you please fasten your seatbelts at this time and secure all baggage..."

You stashed your phone in the pocket of the seat in front of you and closed your eyes, hoping that by the time you woke up you would be landing.

After the way last summer had gone, you were surprised when your mom announced that you were spending the summer in the Outer Banks again.

Frankly, you weren't that happy to be headed to North Carolina. Alice and Kensie, your two best friends back home, had opted not to go to camp this summer so the three of you had planned to spend every day at Alice's pool, biking to the Dairy Queen a few blocks away or begging of your moms to drive you to the mall.

Plus, there was Evan. Your boyfriend of six months. You'd both been cast as the understudies for the leads in the fall musical. Because of some freak food-poisoning accident, both you and Evan had to go on as Cinderella and Prince Charming in the final show. When he kissed you under the bright stage lights, it had felt like more than just a stage kiss. He'd asked you out at the cast party later than night and you'd been dating ever since.

Evan was great. He really was. He was thoughtful and cared about you. But ever since your mom had bought the plane tickets to the Outer Banks back in March, every time you kissed Evan you could only think of Rafe Cameron.

☼☼☼

You trailed behind your mother on the way to baggage claim, bent over your phone responding to the texts Alice and Kensie had sent in the group chat while you'd been in the air. Apparently, they'd bumped into Kensie's crush and need to analyze every detail. A feeling of jealously you hadn't anticipated crept into your chest, weighing you down. Even indoors, the muggy heat of the Outer Banks made it clear how far from Oregan - and from your people - you were.

You looked around the airport, searching for the baggage claim with your flight number and noticed an incredibly familiar head of blonde head of hair standing nearby.

"Sarah Cameron?" You asked.

Sarah spun around a joyful smile on her face. "Oh my god! Y/n!" She ran over, wrapping you in a hug. "Are you back for the summer?"

You nodded your head which elicited another excited scream from her.

"What are you doing at the airport?" You asked her.

"You'll never guess! We're getting a house in the Bahamas!" She gushed.

"Sarah!" A deep voice called. You looked up to see another older-looking version of Rafe headed in your direction.

Your mom froze beside you. "Oh dear," she whispered.

The man's gaze didn't leave your mom. "Heather," he said.

"Ward," she responded.

Oh, you thought. So that's Rafe's dad.

"It's good to see you," your mom continued. "You look," she paused for moment, "good."

"You as well," Ward responded.

The carousel behind you started to move and luggage streamed out.

"That's us," your mom said, pointing over to the moving carousel. "We should go."

"I'll tell Rafe you're back," Sarah whispered to you. "He's gonna be so excited."

You smiled down at her knowing that you'd already made a vow to yourself to avoid him all summer. You refused to let Rafe ruin what you and Evan had and the only way you could guarantee that was making sure you didn't see him at all.

☼☼☼

Sarah bounded in the front door of the Cameron's house. "We're home" she called out, her sing-songy voice echoing through the big house. Ward entered after her, carrying their luggage.

"Welcome home," Rose said, greeting Ward at the door with a kiss.

Sarah rolled her eyes at the exchange. It wasn't that she actively hated her step-mom, she would just have rather her dad not married her. Though he was buying her a house in the Bahamas as an anniversary present so maybe she wasn't all bad.

"Is Rafe upstairs?" Sarah asked.

"I think so," Rose replied.

Sarah ran up the stairs, skipping every other one, the way Ward always told her not to do. She came to a sudden stop in front of Rafe's closed door.

"Rafeeeeee," she yelled, knocking rapidly until his voice bellowed back at her through the wall.

"What do you want Sarah? Go away!" He yelled.

"Fine," Sarah said. "I guess you don't care that y/n is back in town then?"

The door swung open just a few seconds later. “What did you say?” Rafe asked.

“Y/n was at the airport. She’s back in the Outer Banks for the summer.” Sarah turned on her heel and sashayed her way to her own bedroom leaving Rafe in his doorway to process the information.

Maybe this summer will be a whole less boring, Rafe thought.

☼☼☼

The summer was going exactly how you'd expected. It was surprisingly nice to have your younger brother to keep you company and more importantly, keep you busy. You spend your days either on the beach, tanning, watching your brother splash in the waves, and making your way through the reading list of the Honors English class you had opted to take next year or at the Club's pool, eating chicken tenders for lunch and washing them down with the thick chocolate milkshakes.

Rafe's friends frequently made an appearance at the Club. You watched them sneak vodka from flaskes into cups of spirit from being your shaded sunglasses. So far, Rafe had yet to join them.

Currently, Phoebe was flirting hardcore with Sawyer, begging him to put sunscreen on her back so she wouldn't burn. It was all too predictable.

You turned your attention back to Nick Carraway and his descriptions of Gatsby's grand parties momentarily.

You heard Sarah's voice before she appeared next to you and plopped down on the chair your brother had been occupying before he decided he needed more ketchup for his fries and had ran off.

"Y/n," she started with the same youthful energy she always talked with, "has Rafe invited you to our Fourth of July party yet?"

"Umm," you hesitated. "No, he hasn't said anything about it."

"Ugh," Sarah threw her head back in a dramatic motion. "I told him to text you about it. He's useless. Anyway, we throw a huge party for the Fourth every year and you have to come. There are fireworks and everything..."

Sarah's monologue faded to the background as you looked up and noticed Rafe standing at the top of the steps that lead down the pool. Your stomach flopped in the same way it always did when you saw him.

Rafe started walking down the steps and a small panic set in. His own eyes wandered across the pool deck and it was only time before he recognized you. You shifted your body slightly, trying to use Sarah to block yourself from his view.

You turned your attention back to his younger sister, afraid that you'd accidentally make eye contact with Rafe.

Crap, crap crap, you repeated in your head. Rafe was for sure heading in your direction. Even as you forced yourself to focus on Sarah, you couldn't stop yourself from watching Rafe out of the corner of your eye and he was walking straight toward you. Your 'avoid-Rafe-all-summer' plan was going to be impossible now. With every step he took, you could feel your heart beating faster. It felt just like last summer.

Rafe stopped in front of the chair Sarah was sitting in and you couldn't stop yourself from looking up at him, a smile threaten to slide onto your face. The same warm but dangerous feeling you only got when Rafe was around took ahold of you.

"Sarah," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. "Ward's looking for you."

She jumped up with a sudden spurt of energy, "Okay, I'll go find him!" She leaned down engulfing you in another hug. "See you around y/n." She said before running off.

"Bye Sarah." You replied.

"You know, you're like my sister's favorite person," Rafe said, still standing above you. "She mentioned you were in-town for the summer..." He let his sentence trail off.

But I hadn't seen you around. You finished for him in your head.

"Yeah, we got in about a week ago." You said. The tension that hung in the air between the two of you was exactly the reason you were trying to avoid him. The last time you had seen him he'd kissed you in a way you hadn't been able to get out your head for months afterward. It was a dangerous game. Nonetheless, here he was standing in front of you and you were barely holding it together.

Your phone began to ring and the photo of Evan kissing your check from homecoming popped up with the caller id. Rafe's eyes glanced over it and an unreadable expression crossed his face.

Right, it was 4 o'clock on Wednesday. The time and day you and Evan had decided you would call each other every week.

"Uhh, I gotta get this." You said to Rafe, reaching over and picking up the phone.

"Yeah, okay. See you later y/n." He replied before walking away from you and to his friends.

Your eyes followed him all the way even as you clicked answered and Evan's voice filled your ear.

☼☼☼

A feeling of nervousness set in as you approached the Cameron's, the absurd number of cars parked outside confirming you were at the right place. You glanced over each of your shoulders worried that your mom would pull up any second to drag you back home after you lied about where you were spending your evening. You felt decently bad about saying you were going to the Club to watch fireworks and coming to the Cameron's instead but you knew your family's stance on Rafe and his dad.

It seemed like the entire population of the Outer Banks was spread across the Cameron's backyard. Adults sipped festive cocktails as little kids, hyped-up onto much sugar, weaved in between their legs, chasing one another around. You looked around hesitantly, thankful when Sarah emerged from the crowd, frosting smeared across her face.

"You made it! I'm so happy you're here!" She screamed.

"Sarah," you laughed. "You have blue frosting all over you." You used your finger to wipe it from her cheek.

"Rose ordered the most delicious cake you've ever had. You have to try it. I can get you some. Do you want some?" She asked eagerly.

"I'm okay right now. Thank you though. Have you seen Rafe?" You asked. You were at his party, after all, it wasn't like there was any point in avoiding him now.

Sarah turned and pointed to the dock where Rafe and his group of friends were standing. "He's over there."

"Great. Okay! I'm going to go say hi."

"Have fun!" Sarah replied with a smile before running off in the same direction she's appeared in.

You made your way through the crowd to the dock, the groups' attention turning to you as you approached.

"Hey," you said, shyly.

Cleo and Riley jumped up from where they had been sitting with their legs dangling in the water.

"Y/n, right?" Cleo asked before leaning in for a hug.

"Yeah. Hi! It's good to see you guys again." You replied.

"You too! Rafe said you were back in town and I was wondering when you'd finally make an appearance." Cleo said.

You look over at Rafe to find him already watching you. He pushed through Cole and Milo and was suddenly in front of you

"Um, y/n and I need to get the fireworks." He said to the group. You watched Riley shoot Cleo a confused look but Cleo just shrugged it off.

Rafe grabbed your hand and pulled you along, leaving you no choice but to follow him. You walked in silence, other than the sound of your heart beating rapidly.

Rafe stopped at a small brick shed on the side of the house. He pushed the door open and stepped inside, pulling you in after. There were kayaks and paddleboards hanging on the walls and some old lifejackets littered the floor.

"Rafe-" you tried to start but he cut you off.

"Y/n, I seriously can't go one more minute without kissing you again."

Rafe looped his arm around your waist, cupped the back of your neck with his hand, and landed his lips on yours.

For a moment, you tilted your face upwards and leaned your body into his before your senses came rushing back to you and you shoved him backwards off of you. Surprise registered on his face.

"Rafe. No. I can't do this." Your voice broke, panic coursed through your whole body. "God, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't have come here today or followed you here."

"Y/n." Rafe said but held your hand up warning him to say quiet.

"I have to go. I have to go," you repeated. "Tell Sarah I'm sorry I missed the fireworks. I know she'll be disappointed. I have to go."

You turned to leave but Rafe grabbed your wrist and his eyes locked with yours, his expression begging you to stay.

"I have a boyfriend." You blurted out. The weight of those four words settled on Rafe's face and you jerked your arm out of his grasp. You spun on your heel and walked out the shed and putting distance between you and the boy making your life so complicated.

You crossed the Cameron's yard, trying to gather yourself and slow your chaotic, unsteady breathing. You hurried down the long driveway, making it to the road without any tears slipping out of your eyes.

Rafe had tried to kiss you. He hadn't tried, he had kissed you. And you sorta kissed him back. No, not sorta. You kissed him back. But then you stopped. You pushed him away. You realized it was wrong. You didn't want to hurt Evan. You weren't gonna hurt Evan.

The fireworks began to explode behind you, large booms thundered across the sky, their big colors illuminating the night. You didn't dare turn around watch them. They reminded you too much of Rafe: the boy pulling your head and your heart in two different directions.

taglist! @oreoenthusiast13 [drop a ☀️ in my inbox or messages if you want to be added]

#outer banks #obx #rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #outer banks fanfiction #where it leads series #where it leads #obx fanfic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron!high school #outer banks netflix

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joaquinwhorres · 4 years ago

Text

alone together (Diego Hargreeves x Reader)

SUMMARY ››››› Dating is hard. But it's even harder to watch the person you love dating other people.

REQUEST ››››› 11 +13 with Diego? (11. Telling them a dumb joke just to see their smile. 13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch.)

WORD COUNT ››››› 2,261

WARNINGS ››››› dirty jokes

A/N ››››› This idea popped into my head right as I was going to sleep the other night, and it just kind of poured out. I always feel a bit guilty when I turn love story requests into something a bit angsty, soooo I added some fluffy moments in here as well. And let me just say, I love their dynamic. Also I *slightly* changed 13.

They've been close since the Academy. Not the Umbrella shit, the police academy--which was, pretty much, more of the same shit. Still had to dress up in a dapper little uniform and take orders from superiors who hardly deserved the title. He spent his childhood training to take down the bad guys and some thirty year old asshole who got his badge five years ago and aced some written test knew better than him? Bullshit.

She was one of the few people who put up with him at the time. Everyone else talked their shit and played the stupid game, as if blowing smoke up the instructors' ass would save them in the field. She was the only one who listened. Who took his tips on how to disarm over the trainers. Who questioned rules that would cost lives. Who put him in his place and drew lines between Number 2 and Diego Hargreeves he didn't know existed.

So yeah, he's been in love with her for a while.

Which is why, when she calls asking him to come over, he turns off the police scanner, takes off the mask, and gets in his car.

When she opens the door to her apartment, he can't help the small smile that quirks at the corner of his lips. She's so goddamn beautiful even in her leggings and Synchronicity baseball tee he got her as a joke when she graduated the academy. She had laughed so hard she cried and then serenaded him with "Roxanne". It was the wrong album, but he couldn't have given less of a shit.

She, Sting, and the other two bastards are looking at him expectantly, so he quirks an eyebrow hoping that it turns his smile into more of a smirk. "You gonna let me in, or did you just want to show me your front door?"

She gives a mirthless pity laugh to tell him how not funny he is. "I was hoping you were the pizza guy."

"Sorry to disappoint," he shakes his head, and the smile situation is getting out of control.

"Not sorrier than I am," she says, heaving a long suffering sigh as she steps aside to let him inside. He doesn't even make it past her before she breaks and offers him a smile.

Diego snorts and turns towards what might as well be his second home. Or first. Hell, he's here more than he's ever in his shitty room at the boxing gym. The TV is on, blankets pooled in a semicircle on the couch, a bottle of wine and half empty glass in front of the spot. Her purse and keys sit on the table, heels kicked off under a chair. Other than that, the place is pristine as usual.

He doesn't like the way this scene looks.

"Thought you had a date tonight," he remarks, heading into the kitchen to get himself a wine glass. Behind him, the door clicks shut and her bare feet patter lightly against the floor.

"There was a miscommunication."

It's the way her voice is too light-- each word is carefully chosen. How under the chair's legs one shoe is on its side while the other is still standing. The fact that she's drinking red wine instead of those stupid Whiteclaws.

"He didn't show." Diego turns to her as he says this, watching to see the words reach her. When they do, her eyes shoot down to the ground and she gives a small shake of her head.

"No." Her voice is soft and her eyes run over the scratch marks on the wooden floor from when she had him rearranging the furniture to make her new coffee table "aesthetically fit". It's threelong seconds before she speaks again. "He uh--meant to meet up with someone else."

Anger shoots through him, burning and vicious and fuck wine as a solution. Diego strides forward, heading to the front door, when she reaches out a hand to stop him. "Don't."

He looks at her and tries to arrange his features into some semblance of innocent concern. "I'm just going to my car to get a bottle of whiskey I keep there." He has to pry his gaze away from hers because the look she's giving him makes his heart feel like it's going to implode. She looks at him as if she sees him. She's the only person who's ever given him that look.

"Diego. Do not go interrupt his date to pick a fight."

"Fuck," he curses under his breath because she sees right through the lie. He turns back to her, mouth open to deny the accusation when her look intensifies.

"I know you Diego Hargreeves."

No one has ever told him they love him.

But that sounds pretty damn close.

She releases his arm because she knows that she's won or maybe she has some misplaced faith in his self-control. "I really appreciate that you want to kill him. Really, really appreciate it. But I don't need you going to jail on assault charges. I need you here, drinking wine and watching TV with me. Unless you actually have that whiskey."

He shakes his head, thankful he doesn't have to respond because the fact that she needs him leaves him just about breathless.

This time she curses under her breath, a soft damn. "You're such a tease," she comments, heading back to the couch and he goes back to get a wine glass from the cabinet.

“It's only for you, baby,” he calls over his shoulder.

They’re two bottles of wine deep and it’s only 11 o’clock. She had apparently been joking about the pizza guy, much to Diego’s disappointment. When he voiced as much, her eyes got big and bright, and she grabbed his face in her hands. “Then let’s order a fucking pizza.”

And then she slapped him, one cheek after the other and went to get her cell phone.

They’re still waiting on the pizza.

But his attention has been less on the grumbling in his stomach and more on the fact that y/n hasn't laughed once in the last forty minutes. She hasn't so much as cracked a smile. Not even when Esther stabs her hand in front of Hank. In fact, since the phone call for pizza she's hardly even said a word, and he can see what she's doing. She's torturing herself. Her attention isn't on Barry, it's on the asshole she left at whatever bar to go on a date with someone who wasn't her.

"Hey," he says, and she turns to look at him, eyebrows raised. At least she isn't that far down the rabbit hole. That's good. He's been there enough times to know how hard it is to pull yourself out of the cycle. To silence out the memories of voices you shouldn't give two shits about anymore and focus on what's in front of you. "How did Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

Her nose wrinkle and brow creases in confusion, and she stares at him like he's clinically insane. "What?"

"Come on," he gestures, turning towards her so that their knees brush together. "How'd the Burger King get Dairy Queen pregnant?"

She seems to catch on then, her face more skeptical than concerned for his sanity. "How?"

"He forgot to wrap his whopper."

She just shakes her head, turning back to the TV. He wouldn't be Number 2 if he gave up now. "What should you do if you come across an elephant?"

"What?" her voice is flat and unamused, but it's not the same tone she gives him when she's done with his bullshit.

"Apologize and wipe it off."

She cracks then, her lips fighting against her will to keep a straight face as the corner of her mouth twitches up into a smile. A small burst of air exhales through her nose. It's not a laugh, and it's not a smile, but it's a start.

""What's the difference between 'Oooh!' and 'Aaah!'?"

"Oh no--"

"About three inches."

She bursts with laughter then, slapping a hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Her eyes crinkle in the corner, as she looks at him, shaking her head. He's gotten what he wanted, but what's one more joke?

"What goes in hard and dry and comes out wet and soft?"

She almost chokes on the wine she's sipping to help her stop laughing. "Diego!"

"Chewing gum. Why, what were you thinking?"

"Fuck you," she says, pointing a finger at him, but she's laughing, so he starts laughing too. She sets her wine glass back down in front of her and crawls all the way on the couch, shuffling closer to him so she can beat his arm with both of her fists.

"It's a good joke," he protests, laughing harder as she continues her assault.

"It's so not a good joke!" she argues back, tears streaming down from her eyes. But they're from laughter rather than what's going on in her head, so he'll take it. His arm is saved from the punching by a knock at the door. Naturally she moves to get up, but he shakes his head, gently pushing her back down into the couch and reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

The guy takes in his tactical outfit with a raised eyebrow, but doesn't say anything about it. Diego feels a bit sorry that he took off his knives. Scaring the pizza guy was always mildly entertaining for himself. Instead he passes along the money with a "Thanks man," and returns to Y/N who has settled back into her spot.

She gives him a warning look and holds up a finger at him again. "No jokes during the pizza."

"What?" It's his turn to look at her like she's crazy.

"I'll choke and die, and you don't want that on your conscience--and don't turn that into another joke," she adds quickly, preventing him from using the innuendo before he can even find it in the sentence.

"Fine," he says, sinking into his seat and putting the box of pizza on the coffee table. "No jokes. Just pizza."

She narrows her eyes suspiciously at him even as she reaches forward to pull out a slice. She doesn't break her gaze until she's swallowed and he bites into his own piece. There's a few moments of quiet between them, but it feels better than it did before the pizza. There's something lighter in the air between them, and he hopes she feels it too.

"Thank you," she says, suddenly.

It takes him a second and a quick glance around the apartment to realize that she means the pizza. He scoffs and waves the thanks off.

"No, Diego, seriously. Thank you. For coming over," she sighs. "I needed this."

"I'm always here for you," he said, nudging her with his shoulder. "You know that. Can't get rid of me even if you tried."

She offers a small smile, and tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, wincing as she notices the pizza grease on her finger tips. Diego shouldn't be watching her this closely. He should focus on his pizza like a normal person. But he can't take his eyes off her. How she seems just a bit slower, just a bit quieter today. She runs her fingers over a napkin leaving a trail of yellow grease. "Do you wanna hear something sad?" she asks, her voice small.

"When you say it like that, how could I say no?" It was supposed to be a joke, but his voice is too soft.

She doesn't look at him, instead keeping her eyes fixated on the used napkin.

"This isn't the first time that's happened. It's not even the first time that's happened this month."

He wants to kill. He wants to wage a war against the boys on Tinder or Bumble or the force or wherever it is she's finding these assholes. But she needs him here. She told him she needs him.

"They're idiots," he says. "Complete fucking morons."

"Statistics would suggest otherwise," she shook her head, looking back up at the tv, frozen on a close up of Bill Hader's face. "I mean...guy after guy, I'm always the one getting broken up with or ghosted. Is there something I'm not seeing? Seriously, Diego, is there something wrong with me?" She looks at him then, eyes shining and heartbreaking in the earnestness of the question.

"There's not a single fucking thing wrong with you," he says quickly wiping his own hands off so he can pull her in close. She wraps her arms around his middle, leaning her forehead into the crook of his neck. He can feel her breath against his skin. Feel her heartbeat. He holds her even tighter.

"I'm going to put that in my bio from now on. Not a single fucking thing wrong with me. Verified by Diego Hargreeves." She gives a single quiet laugh at her own joke, and Diego smiles, running his fingers through her hair. He isn't sure if it's as calming to her as it is to him, but her head feels a bit heavier as she relaxes more into him.

“I don’t know. I think I’m just done with this all. Maybe I’ll like being alone," she sighs, wiggling a little bit closer. "With you of course. We can be alone together.”

'Yeah," his smile is bigger now, and he can feel her smiling against him too. “Yeah, we can do that.”

#diego hargreeves x reader #number 2 x reader #tua #tua fic #diego hargreeves imagine #diego hargreeves fic #tua imagine #number 2 fic #number 2 imagine #umbrella academy #the umbrella academy #the umbrella academy fanfiction #tua fanfiction #diego hargreeves fanfiction

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futurebicon · 4 years ago

Note

Remus and Sirius picking Julian up from hockey practice (if you want to obviously)

THIS IS AMAZING YES IM IN LOVE WITH THIS

“You didn’t have to come, you know that?” Remus held Sirius’s hand as he drove to the rink.

“I know. But I wanted too, I love your little brother”

“He adores you” Remus smiled at him softly.

“Eyes on the road, l'amour” Sirius laughed.

“I think a second off the road going 10 miles per hour while pulling into a basically empty parking lot to look into my boyfriends eyes, isn’t too bad” Remus argues but still pulled his eyes back to the road.

He pulled into a spot easily and set his hand on the door handle, before he could pull it he reached over and grabbed the front of Sirius’s, well his, sweatshirt and pulled Sirius’s lips to his.

Sirius hummed in surprise but kissed back quickly.

“What was that for?” He smiled when they pulled away.

“What? I can’t kiss my boyfriend?” Remus teased.

“Oh you definitely can” Sirius kissed him again. “Put I want to see your brother”

They got out of the car quickly and walked into the small ice rink.

“REMUS” they heard a voice shout before Julian came barreling towards his brother.

He collided with his legs almost knocking both of them over but Sirius grabbed them before they could fall.

“Hey Jules” Remus laughed. Julian let go and hugged Sirius too.

“Hi Sirius”

“Salut, Julian” Sirius hugged him back.

“Woah” a small voice gasped.

“You’re Sirius Black” A young girl with 2 French braids and a hockey bag on her shoulder gasped.

“Hi” Sirius said shyly, moving the slightest bit closer to Remus. All of a sudden 20 kids where swarming him and Remus. Asking for autographs or pictures. Shouting out questions.

“You’re the best player in the whole NFL” a little boy gasped.

The girl from before tugged on his arm, pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to be just like you when I’m older. Except date a boy. Because you said it’s okay to date a girl” she told him.

“It is completly okay. I’m sure you’ll be a better hockey player than me” he beamed.

“That’s not possible, no ones better than you” a boy argued.

“Especially not a girl” someone else stated.

“Hey, you better be careful. Girls are as strong as boys. She can turn around and beat you up without any effort.” Sirius warned him.

“You’ll be sorry when I’m a famous hockey player and your working in an office” she told him.

Sirius laughed. “That’s very true”

“I want to be just like you when I’m older” a little boy looked at Remus like he was his favorite person in the whole world, Sirius would have to agree.

“You get to heal the players and that’s so cool”

“It is pretty cool” Remus smiled.

“Alright, alright. Give them some space.” An older voice called out. The sea of children parted like the Red Sea to let a woman with curly orange hair through.

“Remus Lupin” she hugged the ex hockey player.

“Hi Coach Kinter” he greeted his childhood coach.

“Hope this ones not giving you too much trouble” Remus said when he pulled away, ruffling Julians hair.

“He set a mouse loose in the locker room last week”

“Julian Lupin” Remus exclaimed as Sirius burst out laughing.

“It was harmless, and Alec caught it before it got lost” The younger Lupin defended himself.

Remus shook his head, he couldn’t hide the smile that creeped onto his face.

“Well we should get going, but it was nice seeing you again” Remus said goodbye and walked out to the car. Sirius giving his little brother a piggy back ride as Remus carried the heavy hockey bag.

“Can we get ice cream please please please” Julian begged when they got in the car.

“We’re having dinner in an hour.”

“So?” Julian wrinkled his eyebrows together.

“I want ice cream too. Please?” Sirius’s asked him. Pouting his bottom lip.

“Fine” Remus groaned, leaning over and kissing Sirius’s lips, he was really tempted to bite at his pouted lip but remembered that his little brother was in the car.

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling out of the parking lot. And towards the ice cream shop in the small town.

“What are the flavors for today?” The ice cream shop had new flavors everyday.

Sirius pulled out his phone and pulled up the website.

“Chocolate fudge brownie, key lime pie, dirty turtle, blueberry, and salted caramel.” He read off.

“Blueberry” Julian called out.

“Salted caramel” Remus said.

“I’m getting the chocolate fudge brownie”

“Boring” Remus rolled his eyes.

“What?” Sirius asked, mocking offense.

“Chocolate brownie is so basic”

“So is salted caramel” he shot back.

“No because they make their salted caramel diffferent. And you need to try new things” Remus told him.

“Okay Mr. ‘I-get-vanilla-and-sprinkles-everytime-we-go-to-dairy-Queen”

“ITS GOOD” Remus exclaimed.

“SO IS CHOCOLATE AND BROWNIES” Sirius laughed back.

“You get chocolate and brownie blizzard everytime we go to Dairy Queen so you can’t even make fun of me”

“Remus, love. It’s vanilla and sprinkles”

Remus laughed, the car bouncing as they drove through the gravel parking lot of the ice cream parlor.

“You guys want to stay in here and I’ll go order?” He asked.

“Blueberry right Jules” Julian nodded from the backseat.

Remus leaned over and kissed Sirius quickly before getting out and going to order.

“When’s your next game?” Jules asked a few seconds later.

“2 weeks against the Toronto Maple Leafs” he told him.

“Are you going to win?”

“I hope so. They’re a pretty aggressive team but I think we’ve had a good season.”

“Are you going to marry my brother?” He asked out of the blue. Sirius blinked a few times, surprised by the question.

“I- yeah. Yeah, I think I will” he smiled, he had the thought many times. He couldn’t imagine marrying anyone else.

“Cool. Sirius Black will be my uncle.”

“Don’t tell yourself brother I said that though” He looked in the rear view mirror and watched Julian make a zipper motion across his lips.

Remus interrupted when he came back with the ice cream. Handing it out to each of them.

“Want to drive over to the lake and eat” the boys all nodded and enjoyed the scenic drive to an even more scenic view.

They pulled up to the lake and got out, sitting on the shore as they at their ice cream in comfortable silence. Sirius had his head on Remus’s shoulder. He had grown up in busy cities. Views like this were few and far between.

“C'est joli” Sirius said softly, breaking the silence.

“Yeah I guess it is” Remus smiled, the sight of his boyfriend amazed at the view of the lake with trees surrounding it and hills in the background. He leaned down and left a kiss in his hair.

“Are we all done?” Remus asked, looking at all the empty cups.

“Yep” Julian said, tossing his spoon into the lake.

“Absolutely not. Now you have to go get that.” Remus exclaimed.

“But my shoes” Julian looked at him like he was insane.

“I don’t care. Should of thought about that before you littered. Hurry up or your going to end up swimming to get it out.”

Julian grumbled but stepped in the ankle high water to pick up the plastic spoon.

“Go throw it away. And just for that you can throw away ours too” he handed his little brother Sirius and his cups.

Jules rolled his eyes but took them to the trash can anyway. Remus watched him to make sure he actually threw them away.

“You’re a good big brother” Sirius smiled at him, connecting their lips.

“Well thank you” Remus muttered against his lips, deepening it slightly.

“Ewww” Julian exclaimed.

They pulled away, Sirius wiping his lips.

“Ready?” Remus asked, standing up. He reached his hand out and pulled Sirius up. Kissing him again.

“You’re both gross, stop kissing” Julian fake gagged and walked towards the car.

“I love you” Remus told Sirius.

“Love you too”

They linked their hands together as they walked back to the car.

“No one tells mom about this. She’ll have my head” Remus told them. They all nodded.

Remus put his hand on Sirius’s thigh, squeezing lightly as he drove towards his house.

“We’re home” Remus called out as he walked in the house.

“Kitchen” his dad responded.

His mother took one look at them and put her hand on her hip. “Why is Julians mouth blue?”

“Sorry” Remus blushed.

“Dinners in 30 minutes. I expect it all eaten”

“Yes ma’am” they all told her.

@lumosinlove

A lot of this is based off my own hometown because I forgot where Remus is from. Also I love Julian Lupin with my entire heart.

#lumosinlove #sweater weather #wolfstar #fluff #julian lupin #coop #coops #sweater weather lumosinlove

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grunge-mermaid · 3 years ago

Text

grunge rewatches Doctor Who

01x01 "Rose"

I miss low-budget Who. now it's all lens flares and explosions

that is the most 2005 haircut I have ever seen

run

Christopher Eccleston was good

definitely the right choice to bring back the series, also the right choice to only do one season

I miss the simple sonic screwdriver

oh Jackie...

Doctor What

Rose is not playing your games, sir

oh man these graphics

plastic Mickey is uh something

TARDIS!!

lots of planets have a north

is Jackie Tyler the opposite of Donna Noble (always accidentally in the thick of it vs completely oblivious to everything)

wow Mickey really is terrible isn't he?

I would jump in that TARDIS in a nanosecond how do you even consider turning that down?

especially with Jodie Whittaker my beloved at the helm

01x02 "The End of the World"

oh hey it's the fob watch!

what is the date system in the year 5 Billion?

flirting with a tree. sometimes I forget Julian Bashir is not the only horny alien fucker

FACE OF BOE

the iPod!!

why are you telling this to the plumber?

I know I said I'd jump in the TARDIS in a nanosecond but those are things you should have considered before getting in, Rose

the Doctor has a point with the Deep South comment

diversity win! your racist flesh trampoline is trans!

let us mourn her with a traditional ballad *plays Britney Spears- Toxic* genuinely one of the best moments of the entire show, classic & new

why does the Sun Filter Descending warning sound like the fucking drive through at the Dairy Queen?

fyi, Cassandra, there's an e on the end of "j'accuse" so you pronounce the "s"

honestly, the British grasp of the French language just astonishes me (most of this rage comes from Escape to the Country and Great British Bake Off)

you...you need to be clever to turn a dial in the opposite direction? ok doctor

I think I had that Rimmel mascara in high school

01x03 "The Unquiet Dead"

ah fuck. zombies. I really hate zombies. I have internalized kinemortophobia

(bc I myself am a zombie, in case the joke wasn't clear)

(yes I had to look up the word for a fear of zombies)

"an error has occurred please try again" Crave really trying to protect me from myself

oh there we go

no, Crave, I refuse to skip the best New Who intro there ever was

Gwyneth my beloved

"you look beautiful considering you're human" excuse me sir who was calling out Rose on her racism just one episode ago?

but god dang Billie Piper in a Victorian dress

the skin on my neck is crawling right now but I'm gonna power through

I'm gonna power through all the zombie episodes

what the Shakespeare is going on? heh

ohhhhhh noooooo not the creepy hissing-whispering bullshit no please no

angry Billie Piper in a Victorian dress with a cane? that's just cruel

officially a Rose/Gwyneth stan over here

Bad Wolf!

STOP WITH THE CREEPY WHISPERY CHILDREN'S VOICES I BEG OF YOU

"time isn't a straight line, it can be twisted into any shape" vs "wibbly wobbly timey wimey" sums up the difference between Nine and Ten perfectly

ok one more episode for this post (but I will probably keep making these)

01x04 "Aliens of London"/ 01x05 "World War Three"

oh for fuck's sake it's the slitheen

I mean this was first and foremost a children's show of course they're gonna have fart joke aliens

as someone who has recurring nightmares about her parents thinking she's gone missing (despite being active on social media and tagging my location in posts) & declaring her dead after a relatively short period of time, this is literally one of my worst fears. top 5 easily

more Bad Wolf!

I know this was 2005 but "you're so gay" as an insult in an episode written by a gay man who was also the show runner and therefore had the power to, you know, cut that line (or not even write it in the first place), is...odd?

HARRIET JONES

wow I really hate Mickey

like, I'm not missing the implications of a working class black man accused of murdering a pretty white woman and that is absolutely unfair

but seriously what a useless man-child

another diversity win! your genocidal fart monster is a bi/pan philanderer!

(ok so they don't indicate the gender of the "young farmer" he was having an affair with but I'm extrapolating bc they said "a mistress and a young farmer" instead of "two mistresses")

I do appreciate when shows are quietly queer but we also need good, solid, obvious, positive representation and we're not there yet

these graphics are killing me

ah fuck it's a two-parter

fine

I'll watch part 2

sorry this post is so long

(not sorry enough to put it under a cut tho)

"electricity slurping" is not a caption I expected to see but ok

yes, Mickey your basic Nokia is gonna get a really good pic of that fart monster, good work

ok that's more the fault of 2005 technology than Mickey's and it's better than nothing

I just really dislike Mickey

why were those steel barricades installed in 1991?

what was happening in 1991 that would necessitate that installation?

wouldn't it make more sense to have them installed sometime during the Cold War instead of right after it ended?

I know it was Uncertain Times after the Soviet Union collapsed, but they certainly weren't anywhere near as much of a threat in 1991 as they were in, say, 1962

Harriet Jones using her Karen energy for good

oh actually that's a pretty good picture for a 2005 Nokia

Raxacoricofallapatorius!

...why is the Prime Minister's desk covered in skittles?

voicemail dooms us all. does it ever

Harriet Jones is a tory isn't she?

that's all for this round of grunge rewatches doctor who (I got distracted by reddit around the voicemail line).

#grunge rewatches doctor who #doctor who #dr who #9th doctor #long post #very long post #sorry not sorry

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queen-ofsunflowers · 3 years ago

Text

I posted 2,093 times in 2021

406 posts created (19%)

1687 posts reblogged (81%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 4.2 posts.

I added 1,096 tags in 2021

#my hero academia - 161 posts

#queen answers - 157 posts

#rwby in bnha au - 155 posts

#rwby - 103 posts

#anonymous - 100 posts

#persona 3 - 94 posts

#ruby rose - 89 posts

#ace attorney - 84 posts

#my hero academia au - 77 posts

#rwby au - 76 posts

Longest Tag: 103 characters

#i still love the fact that haru fulfills both the roles of team soft girl and the tank at the same time

My Top Posts in 2021

Um... so.

Just finished the new archon quest. And uh...

Hey, Genshin Fam, how we holding up?

75 notes • Posted 2021-04-12 16:33:20 GMT

BNHA 297 Without Context.

Oh...

Oh this is not good at all.

Please give the kids a break, I’m begging you--

79 notes • Posted 2021-01-16 19:18:30 GMT

ZHONGLI: ...I think I just figured out something. I have to go.

CHILDE: Aren't you forgetting something?...

(Zhongli gives Childe a kiss on the forehead before running off.)

CHILDE: NO! Pay your bill! Damn, who raised you?!

106 notes • Posted 2021-02-15 17:01:27 GMT

"...why is Evelyn sitting on the table?"

...

"...she wanted to be tall."

Redraw 1 of 2. I should note: Evie barely stands above 5'0". She's short as shit.

109 notes • Posted 2021-09-08 03:45:28 GMT

Headcanons Made While Playing AA3

Mia, of course, didn’t remember that she and Dahlia were related during the State v. Fawles. She found that out in the time period between that case and Phoenix’s. It made it a bit harder for her to do what she needed because of old memories.

The judge does not like it when people start cursing in the courtroom. Mia is part of the reason why.

Phoenix had to get the bottle necklace surgically removed from his stomach after his trial.

Ron DeLite is a theatre major.

Mama Wright is fiercely protective of her son. Just ask one Miles Edgeworth.

Phoenix and Maggey are cousins on Phoenix’s dad’s side.

The Wright & Co. Law Offices has an official swear jar. It usually gets brought to court to help with the Judge’s no swearing policy.

Both Godot and Phoenix are theatre kids.

Larry is lactose intolerant, but he eats/drinks dairy anyway. He constantly gets chastised for this.

Diego and Mia are the source of the “Bratworth” nickname in-game.

Mia’s middle name is Guinevere.

The person Terry Fawles met on the bridge was actually Iris, not Dahlia.

Edgeworth and Franziska didn’t believe in Santa Claus growing up. They did, however, strongly believe in Krampus.

Edgeworth has mastered the art of dodging Franziska’s whip. The only way she can get him now is if he’s not paying attention.

Larry never actually finished high school. He nearly did, but stopped going the last few weeks (much to Phoenix’s disappointment.) During Investigations, he’s working on actually getting it.

Maya starts therapy after the events of Bridge.

The first thing Diego does in prison is find Redd White and sock him in the jaw.

109 notes • Posted 2021-04-23 21:46:44 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

#my 2021 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #i love that the thing about haru is my longest tag #and i was not expecting the aa3 headcanons to be my most popular post!#though the tags are pretty on point--

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citrineghost · 3 years ago

Text

Listen very very closely, because I'm going to die young if people don't start learning what reviews are for and how to leave them

Rule #1: 2, 3, and 4-star reviews exist. Use them.

Please stop using exclusively 1-star and 5-star reviews. I know these make you feel powerful, but the other ratings help as well. They all average out to give potential buyers an accurate representation of the product quality. If you were slightly disappointed, give a 2-star or 3-star review. Save your 1-star reviews for travesties.

Rule #2: Reviews for products are about product quality

If you are reviewing a product on a product-selling website, such as Amazon, your review is about the quality/arrival state/functionality of the product. You are letting people know whether the product is good to buy. If it was packaged poorly and broke before you got the package, do not review the product until you attempt to get it replaced.

If the seller is unwilling to refund you or send a replacement, you can use the review section to review the customer service so that people know if they're talking a risk when buying.

Likewise, if a seller is really nice and sends a replacement or promptly apologizes and issues a refund, do not leave them a negative review because of the original state of the product. Accidents happen. Sellers should be rewarded for kind customer service, even if you're bummed out that you were inconvenienced.

Rule #3: eBay feedback is not a product review

I know you're all used to product reviews like the above, but eBay is not the same system. eBay is made for selling used or new items and the feedback system is for letting people know if the seller did a good job. Unless the seller did something wrong, you always give positive feedback.

If the product you receive is damaged and the seller put the condition as poor or they noted the damage on the product page, do not leave bad feedback.

If the product works poorly, but is the product the seller described, do not leave negative feedback. They are not the manufacturer. You are scoring their selling quality, not the product. This includes books you thought were shitty, clothes that didn't fit you well (but matched the listed measurements), and appliances that suck at their job but are exactly what you bought.

If you want to review the products themselves, find them on the manufacturer/company website where they're sold officially and review them there.

Rule #4: Recipe reviews are for people who know how to use a recipe

If you substitute or change more than one ingredient in a recipe, do not leave a review. If you have changed the recipe in a meaningful way, it is not the same recipe and, therefore, you are not reviewing the original recipe.

The only time it's acceptable to review a recipe after changing it is if you actually did make the original recipe first and can review it in earnest, or if the change you made was small enough not to affect your understanding of the original recipe's quality. For example, if you add nuts to a brownie recipe, you can still accurately judge the quality of the brownie itself.

If you burn a recipe, straight up suck at cooking, fail to follow the steps the way they're written, or otherwise do not follow the recipe instructions, do not review the recipe unless you have enough information to do so fairly.

For example, if you burn something but part of it was salvaged, you can make a funny joke at your own expense about burning it while you leave your review, but the rating should reflect the part you succeeded to cook as instructed. The burnt part was your own failing. That 1-star review is @ you, not the recipe writer. If the salvaged part was good, leave a good review.

Substitutions make a huge difference. If you use butter instead of margarine in cookies, they will turn out flatter and more dense. If you significantly change a recipe and get a good result, instead of leaving a good review, post your own recipe and link back to the original as your inspiration/base. The original recipe writer will appreciate it and you won't be muddying the reviews of the actual recipe with inaccurate feedback.

Rule #5: Book reviews are for the book content

This is especially meant to apply to places like Amazon. You are reviewing the product, not the service. When you review books sold through Amazon/Kindle, you are reviewing whether you liked the story/writing. If you receive a book order and the books are damaged, do not leave a negative review on the book. The author and their ability to sell books through Amazon are being judged based on reviews and sales.

If the book is damaged, that is Amazon's fault and should be brought to customer service, not the book reviews. If the issue is not handled appropriately by Amazon, leave Amazon a bad review on Google.

Rule #6: App reviews should mainly be about functionality or game quality

If a game says it includes in-app purchases, do not complain in the reviews that it contains in-app purchases unless they literally ruin the functionality and fun of the game because of how they're implemented. If the game is playable and fun without buying anything, even if you're annoyed you don't have the paid content, you have no right to leave it a negative review. You were warned there were in-app purchases and you chose to play it. Your disappointment is on you. Find a game without in-app purchases if they upset you.

If an app is free and has ads in it, and it is labeled as having ads in it, do not complain in the reviews about the ads unless they are game-breaking or so frequent that the app is intolerable. If a round of a game lasts a minute and you receive a 30 second ad after every round, the creator is abusing ads for revenue and that is fair to include in a review. If you receive a 15 second ad after every 5 rounds, suck it up. That's how free apps stay afloat. If they bother you, pay to remove ads. Almost all free apps with ads have a pay-to-remove option.

When you leave your review it should be about how well the app works, if it's useful, if it's organized well, if it has bugs or frequently crashes, etc. For games, it's the same, plus the element of fun levels and whatnot.

Rule #7: Reviews for establishments or franchises are not company reviews

If McDonald's gets rid of the McRib, do not leave a negative review for your local McDonald's that had no say in the matter. Go review the entire company on Google.

When you review a specific branch or franchise, you're reviewing the employees, the cleanliness, and the quality of the food, within reasonable expectation of the type of establishment it is. Do not leave a negative review on a McDonald's because their burger wasn't the kind of thing you get at Outback. The point of these reviews is to let locals or visitors know whether or not the establishment is run well and worth going to.

Do not leave a negative review for a restaurant that's very busy. If your servers are working at a reasonable pace, you cannot blame the restaurant for having a lunch rush and leaving you in the drive through for ten minutes while they serve people ahead of you. If your food is good and you leave a good review, you can always note that the business gets mad lunch rushes in your written review, but this shouldn't affect your star rating.

Now, if there's one person ahead of you and you're standing in line for ten minutes while employees are on their cellphones, that's terrible service and deserves a bad review.

If Dairy Queen charges fifty cents for extra sauces, it's not the fault of the employee informing you and following procedure. If you're pissed about the sauce price, take it up with corporate. Your review should reflect the attitude of the employee serving you, not the information they have to offer.

You get the idea.

So now, go forth and actually make reviews that make sense and don't unfairly judge or shit on the people or objects your review is directed at.

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the-demelza-robins · 4 years ago

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american high school!jily (iv)

oh hey! it’s chapter four! you can also read it on ao3 :)

part three

JAMES’S GLASSES GET IN THE WAY. Lily should’ve expected it, should’ve known that when he’d backed her against the door, when he’d leaned down slightly to kiss her again, his glasses would bump against her forehead. He’s kissing her and she’s laughing, and she should be embarrassed, but this is James Potter and his glasses got in the way and he’s laughing, too, and they’re a mess and Lily can’t really think about anything except that Gretchen Prewett must be onto something, because she’s never felt this comfortable kissing someone before.

“How blind are you?” she asks, voice more breathless than she thought it would be (he’s kissing her neck, now, which probably has something to do with it).

“I’m nearsighted,” he replies, lips against skin. “Can’t see things far away.”

“In that case, I’m taking your glasses off,” Lily decides, reaching for them. Eyes. Hazel. Up close.

“At least take me to dinner first.”

Lily doesn’t glorify that with a response. She can feel the time running out, sand through an hourglass; there’s only so much left before she’ll remember what he did to Sev and he’ll realize that the sweater she’s wearing belongs to Roger; before Sirius unlocks the bedroom door and Marlene wants to go home; before the sun rises and the whole night is reduced to a dreamy haze. She takes his glasses off and tosses them onto a nearby chair, and then she kisses him again.

She’s only kissed two people before: Sev, once, in eighth grade — it was wet and gross and quickly extinguished any remotely romantic feelings she’d had for him. Then, tonight, Roger.

And now, James. Her hands are in his hair and his are pressed against her waist, under Roger’s sweater but over her dress, and his hair is so soft and he’s doing things with his tongue and the fire she felt earlier in the night is nothing, nothing, compared to this.

Just like that, he steps back. Just like that, the sand in the hourglass runs out.

“Lily?”

She takes a breath, tries not to stare at his lips (swollen) or his hair (thoroughly, thoroughly mussed) as she pulls herself together. “Yes?”

“Are you and Roger —”

Everything comes crumbling down. Her and Roger. What was she doing here, with James, when she’d finally gotten Roger? So what if James is a better kisser, so what if the look he’d given her after she’d kissed him for the first time made her stomach tighten? Roger was the one she wanted; had always wanted.

“We’re not together, not —” she swallows that last word, that yet, down.

James steps back, runs a hand through his hair. Crosses his arms. Grimaces, slightly, at the ground. “Okay.”

The room spins in time with her heartbeat. “I don’t know what came over me, I just —”

“It’s my fault,” he says, voice quiet, controlled. “My fault. I knew you always liked him, hell, I even saw you kissing him a few hours ago —”

“It’s not your fault,” Lily says wildly, unsure of what she’s trying to accomplish. “But — we can be friends, right? I’d like to be friends.”

This time, he looks up at her, a more genuine smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, and he couldn’t have actually liked me, Lily thinks, if he’s taking it this well. “Yeah. Friends.”

***

Lily wakes the next morning to a splitting headache and a text from Roger. It’s simple, straightforward (the text, not the headache): that was fun, we should do it again sometime, to which Lily responds, definitely.

Ignoring the guilt settling in her stomach — guilt for what happened with James, even though she hadn’t made any promises to Roger — she pops an Advil and resolves to keep her phone on silent for the rest of the day.

***

The Sideways Diner opens early on Sunday mornings, and it’s there that Lily finds herself a twenty minutes later, talking about the night before with the usual crowd. Alice blows bubblegum bubbles and refuses to eat anything, but still she orders a strawberry milkshake, if only to draw patterns in the whipped cream. Marlene, dressed preppily enough to go golfing, bears almost no resemblance to the tired, sad girl Lily had consoled last night; she smiles brightly, laughs, Sirius’s fever finally, finally broken. Dorcas, half-asleep, leans her head against Lily’s shoulder, legs dangling out into the aisle. Lily herself feels like she’s been ground through a trash compactor; though her headache has subsided somewhat, different moments from the night keep echoing through her head — Roger, smiling at her in the dimly lit kitchen, hand on her back as he’d kissed her; James, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else when he’d interrupted them; Marlene, soft, quiet, wrecked; James, again, and again, and again…

“James and I hooked up last night,” Lily blurts out, unable to stop herself. From the other side of the circular booth, Marlene’s mouth drops open, lip gloss framing a perfect O. Dorcas stirs against Lily’s shoulder, then sits up, forking some of Lily’s pancakes onto her own plate and grumbling.

Alice is the first to break the silence, raising her eyebrows. “Well?”

“What do you mean, ‘well?’” Lily asks, brow furrowing. “James. James Potter. The one I hate? I hooked up with him, and all you have to say is well?”

“I called it,” Marlene says, a hint of triumph in her voice as she sips her orange juice. “Literally right before it happened. I called it.”

“Was it good?” Alice pushes.

“We just — I mean, we just kissed,” Lily sputters, wondering how she’d managed to lose control of the conversation already.

Dorcas raises an eyebrow, then pokes Lily’s neck. “That hickey says otherwise.”

Marlene’s laughing now, and Alice joins in. “I thought you got with Roger.”

“That was earlier in the night, before…”

“Before you got mysteriously ‘locked’ in the master bedroom with your childhood enemy?” Marlene asks, raising an eyebrow.

“We were locked in!” Lily protests. “It’s an old house, and —”

“Oh, so you just had to make out to pass the time?”

“Well, I got pretty mad at him, and we were fighting, but then we realized we were stuck, and he seemed claustrophobic, so —”

“So you kissed him to make him feel better, obviously,” Alice jumps in, smirking. “It’s what any of us would’ve done. The most clear path forward.”

“I hate all of you,” Lily grumbles. “Besides, we agreed to be friends.”

“And what kind of friend would he be, Lily dear?” Alice asks, batting her eyelashes. “The one that leaves marks on your neck?”

Lily wonders, idly, if her friends will ever let this go.

***

On Friday, after a week of texting back and forth, Roger asks her out. They’ve just finished their last yearbook meeting, and as they walk down the empty hallway towards the parking lot, he says: “You going to the game tonight?”

“There’s a game?” Lily asks, though of course she knows what he’s talking about. She’s a bit too aware of the soccer team’s schedule, thanks to him.

He nods. “We’re playing Rosedale. You should come.”

Lily can’t help herself from blurting: “I should?”

He glances at her, expression hard to read. “Yeah. I mean, if you want to. It would be fun.”

Lily feels the vibrations of incoming text messages in her pocket; thinks of plans. Marlene’s plans, to go to the Dairy Queen and get drunk, maybe, or sleep over at someone’s house. Boring plans. Usual plans. The plans that will result in a few new Snap memories and inside jokes, but nothing more.

The possibility of the game stretches out before her, as long as the corridor they’re walking down. She could go to the game. Cheer Roger on. This thing — whatever they are — could actually go somewhere.

“What’s in it for me?” Lily teases, trying to tell her heart to stop beating so fast. Is he blushing? The fluorescent lights of the hallway, universally unflattering, make it hard to tell.

He forms his words carefully. “I don’t know. School spirit? Yearbook photos? Ice cream?”

Lily laughs. “Ice cream?”

“I mean, if you want, we could get some after.”

Lily’s practically beaming, and it’s so embarrassing, but she can’t stop herself. This is what she’s wanted. This is what she’s always wanted. “Okay. I’ll be there.”

***

The game starts at six, and it’s four thirty now. After Roger leaves for the soccer field, Lily calls Marlene, who screams in her ear and promises to meet her in the bleachers. Dorcas can’t come because she has a violin recital but she tells Lily, almost fondly, not to fuck it up.

“Love you too, Dorcas,” Lily says sweetly into the phone. Dorcas murmurs something similar — albeit in a much less friendly tone — and Lily wonders how she got such amazing friends. She’s about to find an empty classroom to do some work in when someone calls her name.

“Lily! Didn’t think I’d see you here on such a fine Friday evening.” James walks towards her, already in his soccer uniform.

Lily waves her ever-present yearbook camera. “I’m going to the game.”

His hand flutters over his heart, Northwood High’s colors — green and gold — splayed across his chest. “I’m shocked, Evans. Truly. What prompted such a dramatic change in behavior? Possession?” He squints at her. “Whoever’s inhabiting Lily’s body, riddle me this — what was her mother’s maiden name?”

“Lawrence. And I’m, um, meeting with friends. And taking photos.” It’s not a lie, but it’s not the whole truth. Some protective instinct, buried deep inside her, doesn’t want James Potter to be the first person outside of her friend group to find out about Roger — even if James had reverted back to his old self over the course of the week. It’s almost like Halloween night didn’t happen, and Lily is absolutely, one hundred percent sure that he never liked her, that the combination of leftover alcohol and claustrophobia was what drove him to say he wanted to kiss her, not some deep seeded longing.

He runs a hand through his hair. “Keep the camera on me, ‘kay? I’m the star out there.”

“I’ll try,” Lily says drily. “Aren’t you supposed to be on the field right now?”

James shrugs. “I had to put my contacts in, and the locker room bathrooms were full.” He holds up his glasses, which he’d been carrying in his hand, and Lily’s struck by vivid memory: the way the glasses had dug into her forehead the first time he’d leaned down to kiss her; the way she’d tugged them off his face in a frenzy; the way his face, without them on, looked so vulnerable, even in the dark.

Just as Lily realizes she’s been staring for too long, James snaps his fingers. “Oh, I get it. This the part in the movie where the protagonist takes her glasses off, and the love interest realizes that she’s beautiful. I guess the genders are swapped for this one.”

Lily gapes at him.

“I mean, I thought you would’ve already realized how captivating my eyes are, Lily, but if this is what it takes —”

“Oh, shut up,” she snaps, color rising to her cheeks. She’s thoroughly humiliated, but she’ll be damned if she has to let him see that. “I’m meeting Roger after the game, okay?”

Now it’s his turn to stand stock-still, smug expression frozen on his face. He clears his throat. “Okay. Sorry. I was just joking, I mean —”

“No, I get it —”

“— knew we said we’d be friends, I was just teasing —”

“— it’s okay —”

“— crossed a line, and I’m sorry —”

“— you’re fine, James.”

He scratches the back of his neck. “Okay. Well… I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

“Good luck,” Lily almost whispers.

She watches as he walks away.

***

Northwood crushes Rosedale, 5-0. Roger is a solid wall, not letting a single ball into the net, but, if Lily’s honest with herself, James is the one behind the team’s success. Again and again, he scores; the stands erupting into cheers, his teammates patting him hard on the back. Lily snaps picture after picture, and when it’s over she joins her classmates in flooding the field, a crush of bodies and cheering and exuberance under the rapidly approaching twilight. The team streams out of the locker rooms a few minutes later. Lily searches for Roger amongst the sea of green and gold sweatshirts, and before she can find him, she makes eye contact with James. He’s glowing — cheeks still flushed from the game, hair flattened by the shower, glasses back on. For a moment, Lily swears that the pure energy radiating from him, the unfiltered happiness, makes him seem like a little boy again.

That last thought abandons Lily’s head as soon as she spots Gretchen Prewett running towards him. He lifts her off her feet, spins; not a little boy anymore. Something settles deep in her gut, and she turns away, not sure why seeing James happy causes such discomfort.

“Lily?”

She blinks; while she’s been off in her own head, Roger’s walked over, and now he stands in front of her, grinning. “Great job out there,” she says, not quite knowing what to do with herself.

Is he blushing? He’s definitely blushing.. “Thanks. I, um — wanna get ice cream?”

“Definitely,” Lily says, confidence rising. He’s nervous, too.

“Cool. I just have to say goodbye to everyone, and then we can go.” He holds a hand out expectantly. She takes it, realizing too late that this means she’ll have to see James one more time.

They weave through the crowd, shouted congratulations and praise following them as they move closer to where the majority of the team stands. Lily knows that people can see her and Roger’s intertwined hands, and the thought sends a thrill through her. “Davies,” Preston Fawley, right midfielder, shouts. “We’re going to James’s — wanna join?”

Lily looks past Preston and sees James, arm slung around Gretchen’s waist, talking to Remus and Peter. “What do you think, Lily?” Roger asks, looking at her with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’m not really in the mood right now, can we stick to ice cream?”

“C’mon, Evans, lighten up a little,” Preston says, a glint of something in his eye. Whatever it is, it makes Lily want to stay ten feet away from him for the rest of her life.

Roger shifts his weight, hand growing damp in hers. “It’s her call.”

“Girls,” Preston chuckles, shaking his head. Roger returns the gesture uneasily and tugs on Lily’s hand.

“We’re going. See you around, Preston.”

“See you soon,” the other boy responds, and then they’re walking across the field, towards the parking lot.

“Preston’s a dick,” Roger says.

“You could’ve at least stood up for me,” Lily responds, “I mean seriously, what was that? ‘Girls?’ Like I’m not right in front of him?”

“With Preston, it’s better to just back away slowly,” Roger replies, a hint of humor in his voice. “Everyone knows he’s like that.”

“And no one says anything?”

“Trust me, it’s best to just leave him alone.”

“And have him spew condescending, borderline sexist shit like that — ”

They’ve reached the parking lot; Roger stops abruptly in front of a white Toyota. “This is mine. I was thinking we could go to the Baskin Robbins?”

Lily takes a deep breath — perhaps the subject change is for the best, anyway. She needs to remind herself why she’s here. Not to change the soccer team’s team culture, but to go on a date with Roger Davies. Smart, handsome, and her crush since freshman year. She pastes a smile back onto her face with minimal effort. “That sounds great.”

He grins back, and they’re off.

***

Lily orders mint chip; Roger takes strawberry. He pays — Lily protests only a little bit — and they sit at an empty picnic table. After a few awkward moments, they find a conversational rhythm. Between licks of ice cream, Roger tells her that his parents are divorced; that he wants to be recruited but is having a hard time getting scouts interested; and, now, that he really, really hates James.

As Roger launches into the first of many anti-James anecdotes, Lily wonders if this is what she sounded like whenever she used to rant about the boy. Surely she wasn’t so bitter, was she?

“… kicked the ball right from under my feet, then laughed about it…”

“Yikes,” Lily responds, wondering when this line of conversation will end. She’s finished her ice cream, and is getting cold; mid November means relatively nice days and lukewarm nights. She shivers, then imagines sending an update to Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas: never imagined i’d spend my first date with roger gossiping about james, but here we are :/. Marlene, Lily thinks, would be sympathetic but suggest changing the subject. Alice would tell Lily to just date James instead — as if that would ever happen, Lily thinks. Dorcas, no doubt, would advise faking an emergency and leaving. Lily does none of those things: instead, she sits, letting both Roger’s words and the cool fall breeze wash over her. She’s not excited, but she’s not bored, either; she’s comfortable, almost sleepy, sitting here. In fact, she could just doze off —

The sound of Roger’s phone ringing interrupts his monologue. He picks it up, and his eyes widen; after a few hushed words, he hangs up, then looks up at Lily apologetically. “I need to go to James’s house. We’re doing team bonding or some shit.”

What?”

“Preston says I should come, and it’s important that I have a good relationship with everyone, even James, in case a scout asks them about me, and —”

“You can go, it’s fine,” Lily says, and she finds that it is, truly, fine. She’s had a nice night; not a great one, but maybe first dates aren’t all they’re cracked up to be (or maybe Roger isn’t all he’s cracked up to be, she thinks, before dismissing the thought guiltily). Roger takes her hand as they walk back towards the parking lot.

“I’ll drive you home before I head over.”

“It’s fine,” Lily responds, knowing that Marlene would be happy to pick her up, if only to get the first scoop on what happened. “You should go.”

He stands, looking vaguely pained as he considers her words. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Lily replies.

“Okay.”

For a second, they just stare at each other. “I had a lot of fun,” Lily offers.

Roger’s leaning in, so slowly that she can’t be sure that it’s actually happening. “Me too. We should do it again sometime.”

“Definitely.”

He kisses her softly, and then his phone is ringing again. “Shit.”

Lily blinks, caught in an odd feeling of unreality. “Okay. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Text me when you get home.”

“Right. Bye.”

He gets in his car and drives off, leaving Lily standing in the half-empty parking lot.

***

“Lily, can I ask you an honest question?”

Lily glances over at Marlene, who perches on the opposite end of the couch, mug of hot chocolate cradled in her hands. They’re watching Love, Rosie, Marlene’s favorite movie; two hours have passed since Lily’s date with Roger. “Sure, go ahead.”

Marlene inhales, as if about to jump off of some unseen cliff. “Do you even like Roger?”

For a second, Lily just stares at her friend, then: “What do you mean?”

Another careful breath. “Well, from what you told me about tonight, it didn’t really seem like you enjoyed hanging out with him. I could be wrong, of course. Please tell me if I’m wrong.”

“I don’t know,” Lily responds, testing the words out on her tongue. I don’t know if I like Roger. She can’t quite bring herself to say the words, to admit that defeat; doing so would abolish the one certainty that had lasted from freshman year to now. I don’t know Roger, she realizes. Roger is not who I thought he would be. “I liked sitting there. Listening to him talk. His life is interesting.”

“You find everyone’s life interesting.”

“I liked kissing him.”

“You’ll kiss a lot of people.”

“Why do you care so much, anyway?” Lily asks, suddenly defensive, defensive because Marlene’s right; because Marlene knows her as well as Sev did; because life would be so, so much easier if she could bring herself to like the real Roger as much as she likes the Roger in her head.

“I don’t want you getting into your first relationship with the wrong person.”

“How do you know that he’s the wrong person?”

Marlene leans back, tilts her head back towards the screen. “I don’t. But I think that you do.”

Lily’s phone buzzes: a Snap from Roger, drunk already, Preston in the background. She sighs, turning back towards the TV. “I think you’re right.”

#jily #jily fanfiction #jily fic #jily au #lily evans #lily potter #james potter #marlene mckinnon #james x lily #mine #my writing #harry potter fanfiction #it's not jilytober anymore #oops #mauraders #mauraders au

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