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whatavery · 8 months ago

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Ordained Defiance Ch. 1

Finally, after weeks of buildup, finally I can start posting this very special story. Of all the characters in Lackadaisy, I really wanted to create some Abelard content, because I love him.

So what better way to do so than to write a little fanfiction featuring him, his family and my OC? A slow-burn story set in the small town of Defiance, Missouri...

For the first chapter, I present you with an image of my new OC alongside Abelard!

This lovely piece here was drawn by the amazing @mergestucs1!

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With the sweeping, green hills, the freshly sprouting leaves on the trees and the mostly clear, blue sky, Defiance was beautiful in spring. The air was getting warmer, but the breeze still had a sharpness to it whenever it graced Abelard’s face. It was a Thursday morning like any other as he made his way into town on foot, the apricot-furred cat enjoying the spring weather. Abelard's shoes dug into the dirt road that led the way through the small town that was Defiance. Granted, it really wasn't much of a town (it was closer to a village, if anything) given how small it was, and how much distance there was between the homes here.

The lean reverend took long, fast strides, walking with purpose. His morning strolls generally took him all over Defiance. He started at home and took the scenic route out to Defiance General, going through the small community and finally ending by the church.

He'd left the store just minutes prior, having stopped by the outskirts of town to see the shop owner. It was usually his first stop these days. Most days Mr. Weaver was up and working early, despite his age. Abelard always did make sure to purchase something when he visited, often in the form of cigarettes or other small items, usually something edible. Sometimes he brought home bigger items such as potatoes and the like.

And Abelard would, of course, gladly take on Mr. Weaver in a round of chess when time allowed it. Reverend Arbogast usually wasn't one to turn down an opportunity to spend time with the locals. It was part of his daily routine, making sure to visit with members of their little community. Though he didn’t personally visit each and every inhabitant of the small town, he made sure to at least greet them whenever possible, whether by the church or around town.

The man running Defiance General was one of the few that Abelard regularly visited personally. As reverend, Abelard saw it as part of his job to maintain a good relationship with said community; it was what the reverend before him had done. And it was what he’d taught Abelard; it was any reverend’s job to spread the word of the Lord and maintain good relations to those who believed, and even those who didn’t. After all, it was how a man of faith might help others see the light.

And as village minister Abelard didn’t just do services in the church on Sundays. Of course, that was part of the job; he took care to preach to his fellow man, woman and child. Though it had been a while since the last time, he had also done confessions and he’d heard quite a number of things. But as was his sworn duty, he’d never disclosed this to anyone; it was for him, the Lord and the sinner to know.

He’d been doing this job for decades at this point, and everyone in Defiance, and the nearby townships, that was part of his congregation, knew him. He'd established a good trust and good relations with the community, but it had taken time.

The township of Defiance primarily consisted of a small collection of farm buildings and barns around a main road that stretched through the small town. Defiance General was the primary place to do shopping for those who didn’t wish to travel further away by car, where they had more options. St. Louis was about forty miles away and Abelard himself hadn't made the trip there in quite some time. He was content in this small town where he'd grown up.

The town itself had a few things of note, despite its small size. For one, there was a local mechanic, though it wasn’t really a proper business, just a farmer who knew how to handle cars and other machinery. It wasn't so unusual to see him taking a look at someone’s vehicle, just as he was today. The farm house he lived in with his family was one of the larger ones on the side of the road that Abelard walked on. The barn door was open and the tuxedo cat could be seen fiddling with the engine of one of his neighbors’ cars.

As Abelard passed, he was spotted by the mechanic, who wore messy overalls over his clothes. He waved to Abelard as he passed. “Good morning, Father Arbogast. How do you do?”

“I’m quite well, thank you,” the lean cat called back in a proper tone. Abelard waved back as well, and offered him the slightest of smiles. Abelard was clad in all black from top to toe; black shoes, black pants, black jacket, black hat. The only article of clothing Abelard wore that wasn't black was his white button-up shirt under his jacket. “I hope you are as well.”

Though not a man who smiled much, nor a man to whom smiling came naturally, Abelard still did his best to be personable with the locals. At least for the most part. That wasn't to say he was all-smiles around them all the time, far from it. Father Arbogast, as he was most often called, had quite a reputation for being a man not to cross. It wasn't often, but he’d had to tell local children off more than a few times, using the colorful language he had become rather infamous for. And for the most part, it worked. He’d even had to tell off their parents on occasion.

Children as well as their parents knew to respect him and that was how Abelard liked things to work. Abelard was never one to shy away from doing such things if someone were to do or say something morally apprehensive.

Abelard didn’t linger around too much as he continued down the road.

The houses around the main road were generally large, quaint farm houses, many of them quite old with a fair bit of distance between each one. Defiance had never had a large population. Abelard knew they currently didn’t even amount to a hundred. The entire community could fit inside the church during services, even despite how small the church was. In the open area of Defiance, they had a few small businesses, such as a post office, an inn and a carpenter who also did metalwork on occasion. There was also a single bookshop and of course, further away there was a train station with its depot.

The businesses were mainly being run out of people’s homes, further adding to the feeling of a small, tight-knit community amongst the locals.

The area all around was wide and open with small groves and forested area nearby fencing in the majority of Defiance. The rolling hills and fields all around offered space for farmland, like the cornfields near Abelard's home.

The cornfields had gone from being harvested for food to also being harvested for more unsavory reasons in recent years. He'd been there for it all, as the changing political landscape of America had ushered in changes to his life. Not just his life either; Abelard also knew the unspoken truth that farmers both in Defiance, as well as all over the country, were doing the very same thing.

Abelard had spent most of his life in Defiance, as had many of its inhabitants. He'd traveled to visit nearby towns and cities, but home was always here. For better and for worse. But the small town of Defiance needed him. The Lord’s work was never finished until the day of reckoning and Abelard intended on continuing to spread the word of the Lord till his last breath.

He knew that there was no such thing as a one-man army when it came to his job. Abelard wasn't entirely alone; he spread the Lord’s word, he preached to warn of sins and temptations in the hopes that his congregation would help spread the same message. It was the point of preaching at all to begin with, to spread the word of the Lord, to help enlighten and to save as many souls as he could.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil… That part of the Lord’s Prayer had taken on a new significance to Abelard just a few short years ago. The nation-wide prohibition on alcohol had changed so much for so many people, again for better and for worse.

For Abelard? To him the very idea of stripping away a source of temptation in such a way was an affront. It had never been something that sat right with him; Abelard knew so many who saw it as removing the very option of giving in to sin from their lives, but Abelard privately saw it as a disruption to the natural order of things.

If anything, it seemed to have inadvertently added a whole new caliber of trappings into the lives of many. Abelard knew as much, being an initially reluctant participant in the illicit alcohol business.

But alas, here he was; illegal liquor had paid for much of the maintenance around the church and the town. Abelard knew that the cursed liquid would go on to add temptation back into the realm of the living – of the souls who would eventually need saving. Abelard knew that the very allure of the illicit only made sin all the sweeter to the ones who chose to give in to it.

But in the end, he knew that the truly good people would make the right choices, even with temptation in their lives. God would forgive sins, and although Abelard too would do his part to make sure people would not be led into the many pitfalls in life, he knew these complexities to be a necessary evil to separate the righteous from the wicked.

But Abelard kept these views to himself and a very select few close to him.

Passing more homes on his way, Abelard spotted more people who were getting their days started; a woman looking after the small garden around their front-porch where her small children were playing; a young couple leaving their driveway together in a car. Once more Abelard offered waves on his way, even if the children seemed rather frightened of him. He didn’t mind, of course. There was a fine line between fear and respect, and Abelard hoped they would learn to walk that line well.

If nothing else, Abelard hoped the younger generations would be given the chance to grow up with all of life’s complexities; the good, the bad and the tempting, all ever-present. Their parents (and he to some extent) would need to arm them to face the many trappings of life, and never stray from the righteous path. Whether they'd succeed or not was ultimately in their own hands.

All he could do was hope for the best… And hope that they may never get involved in unsavory business like his family.

Being in the liquor business had proven to have more downsides than upsides to Abelard. He resisted the urge to spit on the ground, to curse the names of those he'd had to deal with, as he continued on his way. Lackadaisy, Marigold, they were both the same to him; bands of immoral, cutthroat criminal that needed him and his kin for liquor and nothing else.

Though Abelard had no qualms with partaking in the making and smuggling of the liquor, dealing with others in the business had been less than pleasant. All the trouble that had come with it… It had cost him an organ player as well. Little Defiance had been the scene of some gruesome acts of violence, which Abelard still found unsettling to think about.

And that was despite all he'd seen and heard in his fifty-two years on this Earth.

Leaving the main residential area, Abelard passed the single inn that the town had. It was a small, family-owned place, a decently popular location that Abelard had visited many times. It was a two-story farm house where the family lived on the upper floor and the inn itself was located down below. It was one of the popular places for members of Abelard's congregation to end up after service on Sundays.

After passing the road that would take him towards the Arbogast Funeral Home, Abelard made his way past a tree line and out to another open area. The wide, open space was fenced in by trees from all sides, and the nearest farm houses could look right up to the white church with its single tower and tall spire that pointed straight to the Heavens. It was a relatively new church,; Abelard recalled in his youth that his parents had remembered the time when it was still newly constructed. Since it had been finished, it had been the church his family would visit for services every Sunday morning, and eventually the one that he himself would be the reverend of.

It wasn’t large and grand, but it was beautiful. All-white exterior, the church had two small steps leading up to the two tall doors out front with one short, wide transom above it. Further above the window as part of the tower was a clock, a relatively new installation. On either side of the large doors was a window, each larger than the one above the door, with a grid-like frame holding many small panes of glass. Each side of the church had four similar windows lining the walls, always making sure plenty of light could shine inside. The dark roof was angled upwards, the front merging into the small tower. The tower itself wasn’t that much taller than the roof, a small platform housing a thin, eight-sided spire reached higher than the roof, ending up in a sharp point.

There was always something to be done around the church, always something new to worry about, surprisingly so for such a small town. The illicit, ill-gained money helped keep the church in pristine order, and while they were currently out of a steady organ player, Abelard had other things to worry about. The groundskeeper was looking to retire. He was old and he had been looking after the grounds since before Abelard became the village minister. Just looking for a new groundskeeper would be a a mild challenge in the small community. Just something new for Abelard to figure out in the near future. Hopefully, the current groundskeeper would stick around long enough to find a replacement, so they wouldn’t leave the grounds unattended.

As a brisk morning breeze ruffled his facial fur, Abelard arrived by the entrance to the church grounds. The church was right by a crossroad; corn fields to one side, open stretch of grassland with graves on the other. The cemetery had expanded since the church’s founding, of course. Being framed in by the farmland, there was only so much space that could be used for graves; further away more grave sites had since been established.

No one was around at this time of day and as Abelard made it up the small steps to the large doors, he removed his hat and stepped into the Lord’s House.

It wasn't a very spacious interior, being a small church, but the space available had been optimally used. Stepping onto the wooden floor, Abelard walked up the aisle by himself. On each side of him were pews that could house the entirety of Defiance’s population during services, and there was even room for more people from neighboring townships. And in part owing to the small size of the church, Abelard had mastered utilizing the building’s acoustics to let his voice carry from the altar to the very back of the church, for all to hear.

Behind the last pew on the right side of the church, a small spiral staircase led up to a small landing above the entrance. This was where the organ was located, overlooking the small church’s interior. Abelard admittedly didn’t spend much time up there, nor did anyone else these days. The landing was close to the ceiling, which was painted blue like the sky outside, but even a man as tall as Abelard could comfortably stand up there without bumping his head on the ceiling.

Abelard made a mental note to attempt to send for a potential organ player in the nearby townships. He might even have to send for someone living further away, such as over in St. Louis…

The wooden pews that stood in rows on either side of the aisle were painted white, like the walls surrounding them. There were two windows up ahead flanking the altar, right across from each of the windows on either side of the door. Perfectly symmetrical. Along with the four windows on each of the church’s longer sides, plenty of light always poured in through these in the daytime hours. The same went for the circular stained glass window up above the altar close to the rounded ceiling. And of course, once it was dark, the multiple bronze candelabras on the walls and the large ornate chandelier hanging from the ceiling in front of the altar would help keep the building illuminated.

Abelard stopped before the altar, right below the chandelier and closed his eyes for a moment, just enjoying the peace and quiet that the church offered him at times like this. The tall, lean cat had a white podium off to his left, where he would stand to preach and speak during services, facing the congregation.

Leaving the altar, Abelard slowly made his way back outside again, casting a glance out at the woods in the distance that served as the natural fence for this part of Defiance. Leaves were sprouting from the branches and the grass all around was starting to look as green as could be, it was a beautiful sight indeed.

The dirt road leading to the left from Abelard's vantage point led up towards where a small part of the cemetery was located. Further away along the road that ran along the side of the church was the Arbogast Funeral Home. It hadn't always been a funeral home, as it was these days; it had also been Abelard's childhood home where he’d grown up. He’d inherited the place from his parents and now it was also where he conducted his other ventures, including more unholy business.

Glancing up the path towards the cemetery, Abelard put his hat back on. The nearby funeral home would prepare the dead for burial, the church would hold a funeral service and the dead would be buried in the nearby cemetery. It truly was an efficient, albeit morbid, little system.

Abelard’s own parents laid buried there as well, as did other past inhabitants of Defiance and the nearby area. Growing up so close to not only the church, but also the cemetery had made Abelard’s skin crawl as a young boy, but these days the thought didn’t bother him at all.

The area outside and around the church was beautifully maintained, the grass kept short, the nearby trees kept healthy and the paths kept clear and clean. The morning sun’s rays casting a brilliant light over the trees’ fresh leaves, and the blades of grass, only added to the place’s natural beauty.

It was going to be a tall order to find someone new who cared about looking after the grounds this much. But Abelard had no doubt in his mind that he’d find the right person for the job, as was his responsibility. Odds were someone in town would be willing to do it – it would be easier and more efficient to not have to call in someone from out of town. Abelard knew he shouldn’t keep putting it off.

After enjoying a bit of time to himself, Abelard let out a content sigh. But he knew he ought to go about his business once more.

Turning back towards the church, however, Abelard spotted a single figure lingering by the white brick wall to the left of the church doors. He squinted slightly. He didn’t recognize the stranger at a glance, in part due to them facing away from him, apparently glancing out over the cornfields nearby.

The stranger turned their head as Abelard got closer, and already Abelard didn’t get the best first impression of them, noticing the way they were leaning on the church wall. They were practically lounging, like the church was their personal property.

“Ah, hello… Reverend Arbogast is it?” The stranger sounded uncertain as he spoke in a surprisingly soft voice. The Turkish Angora stood just a couple inches shorter than Abelard, his fur a grayish off-white color all over. His ears were particularly fluffy, though his fur overall was short, yet fuzzy. He had bangs reaching down to his eyebrows and the tips of his ears had white tufts on them. Very unusual.

Behind him he had a particularly fluffy tail that drooped ever so slightly. He wore a dark gray sweater with a thick, folded collar and a pair of blue denim pants. The right knee of his pants was torn open, his white fur showing through.

“Yes, how can I help you?” Abelard asked, his blue eyes taking in the stranger before him. Abelard's tone was polite, but slightly stiff. He didn’t recognize him, and yet there was something familiar about him at the same time. Abelard guessed he was likely from out of town – he made it a point to know everyone in Defiance, after all.

The stranger left the wall and approached Abelard, his fluffy tail fur swaying in the wind. Eyes met, sky blue and minty green, and Abelard noticed the younger cat had a face with soft, rounded, almost slightly… feminine features. The stranger held out his white-furred hand. “Well… I was just looking around a bit. I haven't seen this place in a long time…”

“You’ve been here before?” Abelard asked in surprise as they shook hands briefly. He squinted slightly at the white cat. Again, he got the sense that they’d met before…

“Oh, I lived here a decade ago, before I- Well, I moved out a long time ago.” The stranger’s stumbling didn’t go unnoticed by Abelard, but he was more so intrigued, though perhaps a touch suspicious as well…

Abelard still fixed the stranger with some amount of dislike, which based on the look on the younger man’s face didn’t go unnoticed. “Hmmm, I don’t recognize you… I know everyone in Defiance. What’s your name, young man?”

“My name’s Cainan – Cainan… Wirth.” Once more Abelard couldn’t help but feel as though something was wrong. The stranger seemed hesitant to give his name, which only made Abelard all the more suspicious of him. However, his name did stir something in Abelard – that sense of familiarity.

“Wirth? With an ‘i’?” Cainan nodded at this, though he didn’t meet Abelard's eyes when he did. “I see… Well, I might have known your parents in that case. Harold and Gabriela Wirth, correct?”

Abelard could see Cainan's face tightening at this, but the younger cat nodded. “Yup, them’s the ones. I was planning on visiting them after I’m done here, actually.”

At this Abelard raised an eyebrow as their eyes finally met again. He wasn't sure what Cainan's situation was, but this was… curious. For a number of reasons. The least of which being: “Well, they moved away a few years ago, if I’m not mistaken. They have not called Defiance home for a while.”

Cainan blinked up at Abelard with those pale green eyes. “… Oh.”

Was that disappointment Abelard heard in his voice? Or was it relief? Abelard genuinely couldn’t tell. The older reverend frowned down at the white cat. “You didn’t know…?”

The younger cat didn’t answer right away. Abelard could tell he was thinking hard about what to say. What was he up to exactly? He hadn't immediately struck Abelard as a troublemaker, though the way he hung around outside a church did seem suspicious. Abelard cast a glance over Cainan's shoulder towards the area beside the white building, which seemed to be quite untouched. When he glanced back at Cainan, the younger cat seemed ready to speak.

“Well, to tell you the truth, Reverend, no, I didn’t realize they'd moved. You know where to?” he asked. Again, Abelard found it curious how he spoke with the tone of someone just asking for the time; not with the tone of someone urgently needing to know the whereabouts of their parents.

“Hmmm, well, I don’t recall, I’m afraid,” Abelard told him calmly, though he watched Cainan closely, his gaze fixated upon the younger cat to wait for a reaction. Abelard had his suspicions, but he wanted to see just how Cainan might react to this information. To his surprise, the younger cat barely seemed to react at all – he just nodded slowly.

“Ah that’s alright. Guess I’ll try and ask around town,” was the response Abelard got, a surprisingly casual response. Now he was certain something wasn't right here.

“Were you hoping to run into them here?” The longer he spent in Cainan's company, the more Abelard could start to see some family resemblance. While he couldn’t say he'd been close with the Wirths, he still partially remembered what they looked like. He could see aspects of both Cainan's parents as he remembered them, when he gazed upon the younger cat before him.

“I suppose, yeah,” Cainan replied, his tone carrying that same casual carelessness as he spoke. Cainan seemed to hesitate for a moment, clearly thinking about… Honestly Abelard wasn't sure what was going through the young stranger’s mind. “I suppose I really just did come looking for you.”

“I guessed as much,” Abelard admitted, nodding slightly as he crossed his arms. The way Cainan had greeted him had indeed made it seem like he’d been waiting for him. Whatever this young cat could possibly want from him, Abelard didn’t know, but he was willing to hear him out. “So once more I ask you, how can I help you, child?”

Cainan’s left ear gave a small flick, possibly out of annoyance, though his facial expression didn’t show any signs of it. Abelard didn’t think calling him a child was unfair; he was young, clearly, though Abelard didn’t know quite how young. Perhaps he was older than his youthful face made him seem. “Well, I decided to return to town and, well, I’d like to do some work while I’m here. I’d like to… stick around for a li’l while.”

This was certainly a surprise to be sure. It wasn't at all what Abelard had expected of the young stranger, the reverend frowning slightly. He sighed. “Hmmm… And why didn’t you simply head into town and ask around? And why weren't you just honest from the beginning, young man?”

“I’m sorry, well, I figured this way was easier – I heard you were the village minister, so I figured… Actually, maybe this was a dumb idea.” Cainan suddenly seemed to change his mind mid-sentence. The younger cat shook his head and made to leave. “Sorry to waste your time, I should just drive-”

“Now hold it just a minute…!” Abelard put a hand on Cainan's shoulder to stop him in his tracks, gripping him firmly with his slender fingers. Cainan turned to look at up him, apparently surprised, his white eyebrows raised. “Slow down and explain yourself. I can’t figure out where to put you, if I don’t know where you came from.”

“So, you will help me…?” the Turkish Angora asked hopefully, his ears perking up immediately. Abelard let go of Cainan's shoulder and stared at him in disbelief. Had he been hoping for this kind of reaction…?

“I asked you to explain yourself. We shall see if we can find a solution to your predicament once I know everything… And I do mean everything.” Abelard had a feeling Cainan just might be a troublemaker, but of a different sort than the kind he had encountered before. He gestured towards the church with some apprehension. “We can step inside and talk, if you'd please.”

Cainan turned towards the church with an equal amount of apprehension of his own. He bit his lower lip and seemed to consider this for quite a little while. He awkwardly hovered around where he stood, though he didn’t step towards the church. “Uh… maybe we could talk out here? Or we could go for a walk? It was a long drive here, I’d like to just stretch my legs a little bit.”

Abelard thought it curious that he'd mentioned a long car ride, seeing as there wasn't a car around to be seen nearby. He looked at the younger cat, eyebrow raised in suspicion.

“Oh, I drove into town, but I walked here,” the white cat hastily added, apparently not ignorant to the doubt written all over Abelard's face. The white cat offered a would-be innocent smile, but given the hasty way Cainan had offered up a rather flimsy explanation, it didn’t make Abelard trust him any more. “And besides… I haven't really been in Defiance for years. You could show me around… Please…?”

Abelard scowled at the shorter cat, crossing his arms again. Cainan continued looking at him with that would-be innocent smile of his, but Abelard saw right through it. Whatever he was playing at, Abelard wasn't going to let him win. He knew for sure he didn’t want to participate in his little games. But if he wanted to stick around and work in the town he grew up in… Abelard supposed it wasn’t the worst thing to want, even if he was being deceptive about it. Still, something wasn't right about Cainan…

“Very well, we can walk together,” Abelard finally agreed, though he still scowled at the younger cat. Cainan on the other hand seemed perfectly pleased with this outcome. It indeed seemed like this was the outcome the younger man had desired.

As the two of them left the church grounds and walked up to where the two roads outside the church crossed, Abelard couldn’t help but feel like this was all an elaborate rouse. He couldn’t shake the feeling that Cainan was trying to manipulate him in some way. His intentions sounded innocent enough on paper, but the way he went about everything didn’t sit right with Abelard. “Now, young Mr. Wirth-”

“Ugh, no… Just call Cainan… uhm… please. Reverend.”

“Well, Cainan… If you wish for me to… potentially assist you with your plight, I must ask you a few things. And I ask that you return the favor by answering my questions honestly.” Abelard turned his blue-eyed gaze upon the other and fixated him with a scrutinizing look. “Do I have your word?”

“Of course, I’ll be… honest.” The hesitation made Abelard scoff and offer Cainan a side-eye as the two walked down the dirt road together. “No, sorry, I mean it. I’ll be honest – I swear.”

Abelard still scowled, but he ultimately nodded, breaking eye contact to look ahead. The two walked along the road that ran parallel to the church’s front door. They moved in silence for a few seconds as Abelard gathered his thoughts. He still wasn't at all sure what to make of Cainan. He didn’t appear very trustworthy; the way he spoke, his closed off body language from the way he slouched and the way he shrugged so often. Abelard very much felt that the answers he got from the white cat would prove whether he was to be trusted or not.

“So, tell me: when did you move away? And how come your parents didn’t contact you to let you know that they'd moved themselves?” Abelard decided to go for two big questions back to back. When he looked over to Cainan on his left, the younger cat did indeed seem taken aback by the questions. Abelard simply hoped he'd honor his promise and tell him the truth.

“Ah… Well, those are very good questions…” Cainan replied hesitantly, looking away at the cornfield they walked past. Abelard could tell he was stalling to answer, and he was starting to feel rather annoyed with Cainan already. Though the scowl on his face didn’t go away, Abelard calmed himself the best he could, and just waited. “Well, to answer the first one, I left town when I was… I think fourteen. Thirteen? Around that time at least.”

“Really now? And how come you decided to leave Defiance then?” Abelard wondered aloud, and he couldn’t help but privately wonder if Cainan had run away. It seemed unusual to travel away alone at such a young age. But all the same it seemed so unlikely; from what Abelard remembered of the Wirth family, they were a respectable sort, a good family with good values. They were people of faith and everyone in town seemed to like and admire them.

At least if Abelard's memory served him correctly…

“Oh, I needed a change of scenery.” Once more, Cainan appeared so casual. He stuck his hands into his pants pockets, looking completely unbothered. He still slouched a bit, whereas Abelard took proper strides, back as straight as a board. “Small towns like this are nice, but I wanted to see more of what the world had to offer.”

Abelard had to admit, the younger cat’s answer had surprised him. Assuming it was the truth, he couldn’t help but find it almost admirable to want to experience things like that at such a young age. Perhaps that was how his parents had raised him?

Of course, being out in the world meant temptation. How old was Cainan now? Abelard wasn't sure, but if he left about ten years ago, perhaps… Ten years was a long time… Who knew, maybe Cainan was older than he seemed at a glance. “And where did the road take you then?”

“Oh, here… there… all over the place.” Cainan offered up another casual shrug, Abelard feeling a twinge of annoyance shooting through him at the sight. “I started going from town to town. I traveled down south for a bit, then over east to St. Louis for a while. Never really out of state, though.”

“And now you’ve returned home.” Cainan glanced on over at Abelard in a manner that told Abelard all he needed to know. The look told him far more than the young cat likely meant for it to; he didn’t like the idea of referring to Defiance as ‘home’. Although he said nothing, it was written all over the younger cat’s face. “And what did you do while you were away exactly? I take it you must have done some kind of work to get by, have you not?”

Cainan nodded as they approached the treeline that bordered the fields near the church. Past the treeline there would be yet more farmland with more houses and more of what Defiance had to offer. “I did a couple different things. Factory work, courier work, personal driver, everything in-between, really.”

It was of course a very vague list, but Abelard supposed if he truly was that versatile and had gotten a lot of experiences in his time away from Defiance, he might just fit in after all. It shouldn’t be too hard to find something for him to do at least; Abelard was sure he (or at least the locals) might be able to find a niche for the Turkish Angora to occupy. But of course, that was all up to the community and how well he got himself reintegrated with them.

Defiance was a small, small town, but there should be room enough for one more – it might even help that he grew up there. Abelard wasn't sure if anyone would remember the white cat, but perhaps if they did, that might ease the transition.

As the two of them reached and passed the treeline, they also reached a more densely populated area. This was of course relatively speaking as the buildings scattered here still had a considerable amount of distance between them. Cainan glanced around with considerably more interest than he’d shown up until that point, his green eyes taking everything in. “Ah yeah, I do remember this place… a little. It hasn't changed that much from what I remember…”

“Suppose there’s not too much of a point in showing you around then. Hmmm, let’s see… If you left some ten years ago, I suppose you may not have seen that we have a bookstore now, have you?” Abelard asked as they approached the nearest building. He didn’t remember exactly when the bookstore had been opened, but he was fairly sure it must have been after Cainan left home.

“Oh, I don’t think so, no. I might have to stop by later,” the younger cat said. Abelard thought it might be the first time Cainan said something genuine. At the very least it seemed more genuine than anything else he had said up until that point.

Out here, there was more open grassland, less of it dedicated to farmland, more of it just simple grassy, green hills that rolled along the beautiful landscape. While there was distance between the homes here, they were closer in proximity than some the farms around the church. Cainan looked around curiously as the two of them continued along the dirt road. “Ah, I recognize some of the buildings.”

“So, where are you staying exactly? I take it you’re not staying in your parents’ old home. Are you renting a room at the inn?” Abelard inquired as they neared the very same inn on their stroll. Although it was one of the larger buildings in town, they only had two rooms they rented out, seeing as Defiance didn’t see many visitors, usually. It had a seating area inside for guests to sit and dine as well.

“Oh, no, I’m not. I’ve already got a bed with my name on it,” Cainan replied vaguely. As the two of them passed the inn and approached other houses, a few people took notice of the strange duo.

Abelard would nod in greeting to them, but he could tell people were curious. “And where might that be? If you’re planning on working here, I think we ought to make sure you don’t have to commute back and forth…”

“Ah. Well, I’m staying on over in Cottleville, it’s not too far.” Abelard watched Cainan closely, trying to see if he was being honest. He had a difficult time with this young, white cat; he was easy to read at times, yet other times, such as now, Abelard hadn't the faintest idea what he was thinking. His face was neutral, blank like a fresh new canvas, not showing a single discerning emotion.

“I see. I suppose that isn't too bad as far as distance is concerned,” Abelard reluctantly agreed as they continued on their way. He fell silent for a moment, the older cat needing a moment to think things through. They passed by the post office on their way.

It was another business that had had its start in someone’s home, albeit a house considerably smaller than most of the others. A single-story house where the very front had been converted into the post office where letters were sent and received daily.

Abelard privately thought that if anyone had kept in touch with the Wirths, Cainan may be able to get their new address and send for them… if that was even something he wanted at all. Abelard had gotten the distinct feeling that perhaps there was some unpleasant history between Cainan and his parents.

“So, say if you were to stay here, what work would you be willing to do?” Abelard finally asked after a brief of silence. He fixated the white cat with a scrutinizing stare once more. He supposed this too might reveal a bit about Cainan's current situation, as well as his character.

“Oh, anything and everything,” the young cat said almost lazily. “I did do food service for a while, but I don’t know if the inn would need to hire any help. I don’t know what else there would be around here. But I suppose I’ll just have to find out.”

Anything and everything was a very wide spectrum, and Abelard wasn't entirely sure what to make of it. It could mean one of two things to Abelard; either Cainan truly was incredibly versatile and not at all picky; or he was desperate. Abelard supposed that regardless, it shouldn’t be too hard to find something for him to do.

“I really ain’t too fuzzy about it. Maybe I’ll just stick around for a few days and see what happens.” Cainan cast an inquisitive glance back over his shoulder towards the post office. It was one of the first buildings one would encounter when entering Defiance from the direction they were going. “Hmmm…”

“What is it?” Abelard looked towards the building as well, then looked back at Cainan. He raised an eyebrow curiously.

“Oh, nothing, nothing. Just considering my options,” the younger cat replied with a shrug. Cainan pulled his hands out of his pockets and cracked his knuckles rather loudly, before resuming his slouching posture. “So, hmmm… anything else you want to know about me?”

Abelard could tell Cainan was hesitant, and odds were he was only asking to be polite; it was clear to Abelard that Cainan was being secretive on purpose. Whatever it was, the younger cat did indeed seem to hide something, though perhaps he just simply didn’t enjoy sharing. Abelard supposed he couldn’t blame him there.

“So, if you’re staying somewhere over in Cottleville, are you a permanent resident there? Or what is your living situation? I’m trying my best to understand here…” Abelard had a feeling he knew the answer, but he needed to be sure. That was assuming Cainan chose to answer truthfully, of course.

“I’m… more or less homeless at the moment,” Cainan admitted, looking up at Abelard. Their eyes locked again and Cainan just gave a small smile when he saw the look on Abelard's face. “It’s alright, I’m managing just fine for now.”

Abelard watched the younger cat for a moment as they continued on their way. He wasn't so sure; being a young man without a job and a home didn’t seem like he was managing. He supposed if he had money saved up that was one thing, but he also didn’t know for sure. Abelard's eyes drifted down to the torn knee of Cainan's denim pants. That seemed like something he could and would have fixed if he’d had the funds for it.

Although Abelard didn’t want to give Cainan too much just yet (in case he was the type to take an arm, when offered a hand) he couldn’t help but feel as though he ought to do something for him. As untrustworthy as he’d been acting up until this point, Abelard thought that perhaps he was making light of his own situation to make it seem less severe. Perhaps a coping mechanism of some kind.

Nevertheless, the two of them continued along the road. They didn’t speak too much outside of Abelard explaining which buildings were from after Cainan had left town, which seemed to be a good number of them. Even with Defiance’s small population, there ought to be quite a few new faces among them now, at least for Cainan who had been gone for so long.

The two had made it all the way to the road sign that would first greet those arriving in Defiance, at which point they turned back. They’d ended up further from the residential area and closer to Defiance General.

The post office was the first building of significance they reached on their way back. A decently sized building with just one floor, a quite scenic one given the open field behind it. Abelard knew a local artist had once painted a beautiful piece featuring the post office and its backdrop. It was, in fact, iconic to the residents.

Glancing through the main window as they passed, Abelard offered a wave to the local postman, Mr. Lang, who was working inside. The gray tabby offered a wave back, though he cast a curious glance at Cainan, who seemed to be glancing the complete opposite way. He almost seemed to willfully try to ignore the post office’s existence.

“Would you like to go inside? Perhaps we can ask if there’s work to be done in the post office.” Cainan turned towards Abelard again and looked apprehensive at best.

“Oh, uh… Yeah, we can head inside,” the younger cat replied, speaking with a similarly apprehensive tone, his eyes not meeting Abelard's. Abelard raised an eyebrow curiously. For someone who said they’d take on anything and everything, this was a curious reaction, when the very prospect of a potential job was brought up.

What are we going to do with you? Abelard privately wondered as he stepped up to the post office’s door, looking sideways at the younger cat. Abelard knew next to nothing about him at this point, maybe Cainan truly was doing better than he appeared to be.

He was an enigma, this one…

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy fanfiction #lackadaisy oc #oc x canon #Abelard Arbogast

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worldsokayestdragon · 1 year ago

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I don't think we talk enough about the fact that the supernatural series exists as books in the supernatural universe.

imagine you start reading some books about two brothers hunting monsters. they're pulpy and maybe a little bad, but in that incredible way where you can tell it's going to be a cult classic and this Carver Edlund guy pumps out one a week it seems like so there's plenty of content.

then you see a news story about some guy named Dean Winchester torturing and killing a bunch of people in St Louis and being killed. it mentions that some of the victims knew his younger brother Sam, but he isn't believed to be involved. those are the same names as the boys from your monster books, what a crazy coincidence!

at basically the same time the 6th supernatural book comes out and it's about Sam and Dean hunting a shape shifter in St Louis who turns into Dean to frame him, drops some of the most insane queer coded dialogue you've ever read, and then dies thereby ending the manhunt for Dean. you'd think it was in bad taste and way too soon, except given when it came out and the normal release schedule for these books it had to have been written before or at the same time as the real life events. there wasn't enough time for Edlund to have ripped it from the headlines.

the next year real life Dean Winchester shows up, not dead, and robs a bank with his brother. there are a bunch of hostages, the FBI shows up to negotiate, one of the hostages dies, and they escape. the supernatural book night shifter is about a shape shifter robbing a bank. you look into it and the dead hostage looks exactly like one of the other hostages who apparently didn't have a twin and also swears up and down that the Winchesters weren't robbing the bank and saved her from a monster.

like a month later Sam and Dean Winchester are arrested and sent to prison. they escape in less than a week. Folsom prison blues is published and says that Sam and Dean got arrested on purpose to hunt the ghost of nurse ratchet who had been killing prisoners. prisoners had been dying in mysterious circumstances before and during their stay in the prison, some digging reveals that there was a nurse who was killed there and her grave was desecrated shortly after their escape, and the deaths stopped immediately afterwards.

Sam and Dean Winchester are arrested again but this time they don't make it to jail before the police headquarters they're being held in explodes killing everyone inside. supernatural jus in bello tells the story of Sam and Dean fighting off a hoard of demons at a sheriff's office, being let go because the police and FBI realized they were telling the truth about monster hunting, and then Lilith showing up to kill everyone they just saved in an explosion.

it's quiet for a few years, then the Winchesters reappear on a cross country murder spree that they're live streaming for some reason and are killed in police custody again. there haven't been any new supernatural books for a while but that superfan Becky has been posting what she claims are Carver Edlunds unpublished works online. you kind of assumed it was fanfiction, albeit fanfiction that did a really good job replicating the writing style of the original, but there is stuff in there about new shape shifting monsters called leviathan turning into Sam and Dean to frame them for a bunch of murders and ruin their lives. you decide to go on a locally grown vegetarian diet for a while, just in case.

#supernatural

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restingbuchface · 1 year ago

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okaye! how's my fanfiction hockey team doing?

*checks on fantasy team filled with st louis blues, favorites from vegas and detroit, and various middling players from around the league*

ah! poorly! it's doing poorly.

#i'm so not mad about it though lmao /gen #fantasy is fascinating to me and i might write a blurb about my team? who knows #rbf chirp

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blusical · 2 years ago

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ST LOUIS BLUES: THE MUSICAL

Welp I'm probably going to regret this sooner or later but I might as well make this blog so that my hockey talk doesn't entirely get blended with my LGBTQ+ talk so uh... Hello! I'm Shadow. I'm a 17 year old queer kid who just wants to hang out with other hockey fans. I primarily root for the Washington Capitals and the St Louis Blues. Anyways let's just get the important stuff overwith 😅

Starting off with the most important disclaimer, I do want to emphasize that some players I talk about and post about do include the most controversial ones (ex. Patrick Kane, Alex Ovechkin). I want to make it clear that while I support some players *on* the ice, that doesn't mean I support them *off* the ice and vise versa. Still, if seeing *any* of those players makes you uncomfortable whatsoever, it might be in your best interests to tag specific players or to just not follow at all. I also talk about the Chicago Blackhawks, a LOT, regardless of if it's me hating on them or specific players, me glorifying specific players, or just straight up mentions. I will also talk a lot about their rival and my main team, the St Louis Blues. Again, if that's not your thing you might want to filter the "chicago blackhawks" tag. This is a heads up for both Hawks fans and detractors.

Secondly, who can interact? Well, since it's a hockey blog, I allow hockey fans of any team, any kind to interact! Casual, diehard, hell even bandwagons are welcome! I'm also an artist, and I really wanna get to know most other hockey artists, so if you're a hockey fan and an artist feel free to interact! (Note: the account must be mostly SFW). I am VERY MUCH open to seeing other Blues and Caps fans, especially considering there's not many on hockeyblr and I will admit I get pretty lonely hehe. That said, I also wanna meet rivals of said teams, especially Hawks fans, Pens fans, Flyers fans and Avs fans. As for who can't interact..

I will block freely overall, but in particular fuck off if you're bigoted (racist, sexist, queerphobic- including terfs and exclusionists- ableist, islamphobic, antisemetic, etc) anti-vaxx, anti-abortion, supports/involved in crypto/NFTs or if you're active in anti-recovery spaces (such as pro-ed spaces). Though knowing hockeyblr, this hopefully won't be an issue, but I'm putting it out there just in case.

Additionally, don't interact at all if you gatekeep fans of any kind (The only fans we gatekeep are bigots and creeps folks!), wish injury or even *death* on any players, are a gossip blog or confession blog, harass any fan of any team or you genuinely believe someone is a shitty person over the team they root for (Ex. believing every bruins fan is racist, believing every hawks fan is a rape apologist, etc). Hating a hockey team isn't a bad thing but harassing a fan *over* said hockey team is *always* bad no matter how you look at it. ...though this probably won't matter because odds are I have you blocked already lol. RPF blogs and fanfiction blogs can interact. However, this blog is not an RPF or fanfiction blog. Please don't tag my posts as "hockey fic" or "ship".

Incest shippers and pedophilia shippers on the other hand... please stay away from me. I'm a minor, 17 years old to be exact, and because of this I would prefer if NSFW accounts didn't interact. And if you don't want minors interacting with you overall, you might wanna block me as well for both our sakes. Remember, DNIs go both ways! This account is a safe space for POC, Queer folks, women, disabled folks, neurodivergent folks and other minorities. If you can't handle that, get lost.

Lastly, blogs with no posts combined with no avatar or banner, or blogs that have nothing but a stock image/stolen photo of a white woman as a profile picture combined with a name and nothing else will be blocked on sight, as chances are you're a bot. No exceptions. Blogs tagged as "Mature" may also be blocked, as half the time I'll think you're NSFW. Again, I block freely, and I will block folks even if they aren't on my DNI. If you're blocked, don't take it personally. TAGGING SYSTEM: +Stick to the Status Quo+ - Player hate. Will be tagged as +Stick to the Status Quo: [player name] Hate+ +Let's go tear up someone's lawn+ - Team hate. Will be tagged as +Let's go tear up someone's lawn: [team name] Hate+. +Champions one and all+ - Player ramblings/praise. Will be tagged as +Champions one and all: [player name]+ +Welcome to my Candy Store+ - Asks.

+Getcha Head in the Game+ - General Hockey Rambling. +And there's your final bell+ - Rant/vent, or otherwise serious posts.

+We're gonna rock the house+ - Reblog. +Shut up Heather!+ - Not hockey related. +I hope you enjoy the show+ - Anything related to the St Louis Blues or the Washington Capitals and their players (including current or former). +But I don't own a motorbike+ - Art, page decor, userboxes, you get it. Shit you should probably look at (no pressure): Umich Rumors (TW: Abuse mentions) Why censoring the names of players is a bad idea. The Sexualization of Hockey Players. (TW: Sexual harassment). In case you're curious on where I stand on Patrick Kane, read these (Archived versions. Heads up the images in the second link are broken for some reason).

Main blog and the account I follow/like from: @shadowstarlightwitch Disability and more: @thecringepunkarchives General fandom, fanfiction and art blog: @thatonedemonnamedlucifer (16+ only)

#pinned post #st louis blues #washington capitals #hockey blog #hockeyblr #capitals #blues #hockey fandom #sports blog #hockey tag #nhl hockey #nhl #hockey

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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.

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yourfavewriteress · 3 years ago

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right under our noses (part 3) | colton parayko

intro | part 1 | part 2

Teaser: "Don’t worry, you can buy me a drink some other time.”

“I’m not wearing that,” You rolled your eyes from Alex and Jayne’s kitchen stool. You were over their house because Jayne begged you to join her at the game, and their outing after. Usually, you found someway to deny the invitation, but she had gotten much more persistent, especially with the plan in place.

You didn’t know that Jayne’s new motivation was to get you and Colton to finally realize your compatibility. She had been watching you two separately for a few years shy of a decade. Although you had many similar traits, Colton respected Alex too much to every go against his wishes. Now with Alex’s blessing, Jayne definitely had something new to invest her energy in.

Alex pouted at you, “I think it’s a sin that you’ve never worn my jersey to a game.”

“The only reason I’m going to this game is for you and Jayne, isn’t that enough?”

“Some friend you are,” He grumbled under his breath as he poured himself a cup of coffee.

“Jayne is going to be wearing your jersey,” You responded. “I’ll let her be your best friend.”

“For the record, if it was your game, I would wear your jersey.”

“How nice of you,” You smiled, patting his shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be gone by now, though?”

Alex looked down at the watch on his wrist, pushing himself off of the counter he was leaned against. “Lucky for you, yes.”

“I might even do a nice celly after you shut the door behind you, maybe that’ll cheer you up.”

“Babe!” Alex called out to Jayne who was currently upstairs getting ready, ignoring your comment. “I’m leaving now!”

As you scrolled mindlessly through Instagram on your phone, Alex left the kitchen and you could hear their muffled voices talking. To avoid cringing, you moved to their living room, turning on the TV to drown out their conversation.

“Is she coming out tonight?” Alex whispered to Jayne once he found her upstairs.

“Yes, she promised me. Do you have a plan?”

“No,” Alex scoffed. “This was your idea! You don’t have a plan?”

“Shut up,” Jayne rolled her eyes, looking at her husband’s reflection in the mirror as she put the final touches on her makeup. “Last week, they talked for a little at the bar, which was a good start.”

“Yeah, and she said she hoped he was the guy. By the way, does she remember that?”

Alex and Jayne shared many things. One of which was love for you and Colton as close friends. Alex had know Colton for years, and has been a source of support for him as he came into a better man and better player. He has seen his incredible growth, but also been there to see the sadness that had started to cloud his shoulders. Colton was a dominant player, but just like any team, things didn’t always seem so positive. Colton took this the hardest, and Alex wished he didn’t think so critically of himself when he has steadily been improving.

He most likely would never admit this, but you were one of Alex’s favorite people in his life. You were the sister he never had, even though you were Jayne’s friend first. It’s why he was so quick to claim you were off-limits to the team, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if pain was brought on you from someone he allowed into your life. From what he and Jayne talked about, and your own conversations with him, he knew you had been through a lot, and the very last thing you needed was heart break.

“I asked her what the last thing she remembered was, and she said it was our last dance before we left.”

“So, that’s a no,” Alex sighed.

“Unfortunately. But, it does let us know we picked well.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I have to be at the rink, but I’ll think about it and you think, too. We have to get them to talk again tonight, at least once.”

“Agreed.” He pressed a kiss to her lips gently to not mess up her make up. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Thank you, baby. Good luck out there, even though you don’t need it.”

Alex kissed her once more before gathering his things. On the way out, he ruffled your hair, before leaving you both in the home.

“Jayne!” You groaned about twenty minutes later. “Alex left like an hour ago, how are you still not ready?”

“It has not been an hour, but he made me mess up my makeup so I had to start over,” She lied, walking out of their bedroom with one shoe on, the other in her hand. Really, she had been pacing the room figuring out ways to subtly get you and Colton together. But, subtlety wasn’t her strong suit.

“Can we go now?”

“Relax, you act like someone is going to steal our seats.”

“Well, sorry if I like to be on time for things,” You rolled your eyes. “I’ve already heard Alex bitching me about not wearing his jersey, and I don’t want to hear it if we miss the drop.”

“Our ride will be here in 10, I promise I’m ready,” She said, putting on her shoe. “See? Making progress.”

“Just hurry up.”

And, Jayne did. Although the ride was early, you both made it to the car and then the arena, immediately being engulfed with the WAGs of the team. It was awkward, being the only non-WAG in the area.

It felt like every other woman in your area was side-eyeing you, trying to figure who you were here with, or for. You immediately regretted fighting Alex so hard on wearing his jersey. Maybe then, the wannabe puck bunnies wouldn’t be sending you so much bad energy.

“You good?” Jayne nudged you with her elbow once she noticed how quiet you had gotten.

“Yeah, just waiting for the game to start.”

“Do you need me to go over the rules again?”

“No, I’m fine, thanks,” You said. “I wish we could sit in our own section, though. Away from all the eyes.”

Jayne looked around, shrugging, “It’s the same thing every time. Haters always hate.”

Much like many of the other games, you sat observantly as the players and teams cheered and boo’ed throughout the game. You kept track of the score, which was just about all you could understand, and made sure to stand when everyone else was. Really, all you were looking forward to was the night at the bar with drinks, and dim lights that you could hide behind.

“Listen, man,” Alex whispered to Colton later in the locker room. Colton leaned closer to him, to hear. “You should be on your best behavior tonight.”

“She’s going to be there?”

“I’m not one hundred percent sure,” Alex lied, again. “But the invite was given, and Jayne and I can be very convincing.”

“This still doesn’t give me any idea who she is,” Colton sighed. “We just won, basically everyone is going to be there.”

“That’s the point, idiot,” Alex shook his head. “You have to work for it.”

Colton rolled his eyes, “I really hope you guys know what you're doing.”

“And, I really hope you stop being a buzzkill. Live for once, my friend, this could be great.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Colton left the locker room shortly after that conversation, wanting to stop by his apartment before meeting everyone at the bar. As Colton drove to his place, he neglected to turn on any music, simply driving with his thoughts.

He thought about all the possibilities of who Alex and Jayne could be attempting to set him up with. He thought about that girl he met at one of Alex’s Sunday barbecues. The same girl he went on a date with and wanted to leave twenty minutes in. Hopefully not.

He tried to remember the last time he was genuinely interested in getting to know a woman on a romantic level. Yeah, sex has happened regularly, but nothing that would hold his attention for too long. He felt drained, from all the new people coming in and out of his life. He wanted something stable. He wanted what Alex and Jayne had. He wanted someone that he could trust, with his deepest emotions. The ones he bottled in. He wanted someone to trust him, too, and let him in to their emotions. He wanted a real connection with one woman. One that would last.

Surprisingly, although not to Jayne and Alex, Colton thought about you, too. At first, it was because he wondered if you actually made any moves on quitting your job and finding a new one. He wanted to ask, and he made a note in his head to get your number from Alex or Jayne so that he could reach out to you himself. As soon as he thought about asking Alex, he thought about you potentially being the one for him.

He had always found you attractive, since he first laid eyes on you. Alex knew it. Jayne knew it. And, Colton knew it. Everyone except you. He thought you were funny, smart, really easy to talk to, but also a mystery. All he knew was, Alex made it very clear that you were off limits. There’s no way it’s Y/N, he thought. But a man can dream.

He knew you were strong minded, and respectful to everyone you encountered. He knew your smile was one that he had gotten used to seeing, as it hardly ever left your face whenever you were around him and the guys. You were his dream girl, but a dream nonetheless. Especially when Alex was there to enforce that you were left alone by all the guys. Or so he thought. He thought about how, although he has known you since the beginning of his NHL career in 2012, he didn’t know you. He knew you had layers, and you would only let someone really special uncover them.

By the time he had made it to his place and changed, you had settled at the bar after a twenty minute conversation with Jayne about ‘not looking so closed off.’

You scoffed to yourself, thinking about Jayne’s “suggestions.” Although coming from a good place, you knew for a fact you weren’t closed off, whatever that means. How I look is how I look, how the hell can I change that? And, how the hell can I change how other people feel I look if I don’t agree myself? This is going to be a long two months.

“Boo,” You heard in your ear. You jumped, leaning away to look at who the culprit was.

Rolling your eyes, “Of course. Someone who always invades my bubble.”

Grinning widely, Vince took the seat next to you. “Did I scare you?”

“Yeah, by whispering in my ear like a weirdo,” You complained.

“You’ll get over it,” He laughed. “How have you been?”

You and Vince met right after he was drafted to St. Louis. You even helped him get to know some of the guys on the team. He was the one player that you always had a nice friendship with outside of Alex. You would definitely be lying if you said he wasn’t nice to look at, and talk to. Besides the occasional flirty line, things with Vince always seemed to remain platonic, not that you thought about it being more. Okay, maybe you have. But, a hockey player was not a path you wanted to go down. And, Vince was a great friend. More out there than what you’re used to, but always respectful.

Over the years, Vince appeared to be coming into his own, as a player and a man. Subtle changes like how he talked and walked showed you that he had definitely done some maturing since you first met.

“So, you’re quitting?” Vince raised his eyebrows after you had updated him on work.

“Soon, probably,” You shrugged.

“Probably?”

“I haven’t made a decision yet,” You said. “My bills are getting paid, do I really want to play around with that?”

“I get that,” He nodded. “But, I’m a fan for you not being miserable everyday. You don’t deserve that, come on.”

He leaned over, gently nudging you with his shoulder. It was an innocent gesture, but you couldn’t help the heat that rose in your neck, up to your face. You quickly scanned the bar, looking away from him to hide the flush present. Don’t worry, he definitely noticed.

“Besides work, what’s going on in your life?” He asked, waving over the bartender.

“Nothing really,” You let out a laugh.

He rolled his eyes, “I don’t believe that.”

“Seriously,” You said. “I’ve been working nonstop lately. That’s definitely taken up all my energy.”

“You’re not seeing anyone, then?” You furrowed your eyebrows at him, and even harder when he began to smile. Before you could respond, however, the bartender spoke.

“What can I get you?” He asked Vince.

“I’ll take a beer, and whatever she’s having,” Vince motioned towards you. The bartender turned to you, and you looked at Vince.

“You’re not paying for my drinks tonight, Vincent.”

“Stop calling me that,” He warned, rolling his eyes again. “And, yes I am.”

“No,” You responded. “I’m not letting you do this again.”

“Don’t worry, you can buy me a drink some other time,” He flashed a smile at you. You paused, shaking your head at him in disbelief. “Next time I see you.”

You turned to the bartender, “I’ll have the most expensive margarita you could possibly make, thanks.”

Vince chuckled next to you, “I’ll definitely be opening up a tab.”

“You’re annoying,” You huffed.

“I know,” He said. “You still never answered my question, though.”

“Which one? You’re asking a lot tonight.”

He rolled his eyes, sucking his teeth at you, “You know which one.”

“No, I’m not seeing anyone, Vince.”

“Maybe that’s because you never come out with us.”

“Maybe,” You shrugged. “Maybe not.”

“We’ll never know,” He sang.

“When I get my drink, I’m going back to the table. I’ve had enough of you,” You said, smiling. Vince laughed, throwing his head back.

“You’re a trip,” He said. “I really missed you being out with us, though, seriously.”

“Yeah, I missed you guys, too,” You nodded. “I’ll be out more, I promise.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” He smiled as the bartender placed our drinks in front of us.

“Do you want a ride later?” He asked. It wasn’t unusual for Vince to drive you home instead of Alex and Jayne when you joined the team. Your house was actually closer to his than Alex and Jayne’s, which was convenient. You had figured that out one night when Alex and Jayne drove the both of you home, Vince having had too much to drink to take himself back.

“I was supposed to leave with Alex and Jayne but I’m sure they’ll be all over each other like they are now,” You laughed. “Sure.”

“Okay, find me whenever you want to go.” You wondered why he was so sure he wouldn’t want to take someone else home, but didn’t question him nonetheless.

You nodded, sliding off the stool. “Thanks for the drink, and I’ll be sure to put the rest on your tab, too.”

He laughed, “Yeah, whatever.”

When you went back to the table, you noticed that everyone was gone. All but Colton, who was seated with a drink in front of him and his eyes glued to his phone. You continued walking over, playfully swiping you hand over his screen as you sat next to him.

“Hey,” You smiled.

“Hi,” He returned a smile, placing his phone on the table.

“Why are you sitting here alone?”

“The guys all left to dance and I’m not really feeling the music.”

A mix of ‘Superbass’ by Nicki Minaj was playing and your jaw dropped. “You refused to dance to this?”

He laughed, “Yes.”

“Colton, I’m disappointed in you,” You shook your head. “This is a classic!”

“I know but that doesn’t mean I have to dance to it.”

“Fair,” You thought. “Did you know I could rap the whole first verse?”

“Can you?” He raised his eyebrows, and you nodded in response. “I have to see that.”

“Probably not,” You laughed. “Actually, definitely not.”

“Well, I can’t just take your word for it, I have to see it myself!” He defended.

“Oh, no, you’re gonna have to take my word on this one, buddy.”

“Not fair, at all,” He shook his head. “Total tease.”

You laughed, “Ask me again when we’re not in a crowded bar.”

“Oh, I definitely will,” He said. “Were you at the game tonight?”

“Yeah, you guys played really well,” You nodded.

“Yeah?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at his surprise, “You don’t think? You won.”

“Sure, but it’s not just about winning for me. I feel like I’ve been slacking this season,” He admitted.

“I’m sorry, but have we been experiencing the same season?” You asked, incredulously. “You have been playing amazing, everyone has been talking about your improvement.”

“Really?”

You sighed, “Colton Parayko, have some faith in yourself.”

You could see him blush lightly at your words, shaking his head, “Stop.”

You tried to ignore the warm feeling you felt in your stomach looking at him, taking a sip of your drink. “You’ve been playing great, honest. And, you know I’m not one for fake flattery.”

“I trust your word.”

“You know what could bring your mood up?” You straightened up in your seat. “Sh-”

“-Hey, sorry to bother you, but my friends just went to dance and I don’t want to sit alone. Can I join you guys?”

“Sure, of course.” Although she was much closer to the seat next to you, she chose to sit next to Colton, immediately smiling up at him. You laughed under your breath, catching on to what she was doing.

“I think she's here for you,” You whispered so only Colton could hear you. “I’m Y/N, this is Colton. What’s your name?”

“Amy, it’s nice to meet you,” She said, looking directly at Colton. Colton looked over at you, amusement in his eyes.

“Uhm, yeah, you, too,” Colton responded.

“Have you guys been enjoying the music tonight? It’s kind of hard to hear it if you’re on the dance floor, though, which sucks.”

“That reminds me, I have to find Jayne,” You said, standing up, not before smirking at Colton. “But, he was just telling me about how he really likes that Nicki Minaj song they just played. It’s one of his faves right now.”

Colton laughed, shaking his head at you as Amy turned her full attention to him.

“Have fun,” You mouthed to him, before you turned around to find Alex and Jayne.

At the end of the night, and after spending most of your time on the floor with Jayne, everyone with the team was outside to make sure everyone had a safe ride home. For a bunch of independent adults, one thing you admired about the Blues was the care they had for one another, especially after a night of drinking.

“Are you ready?” Alex asked you, his arm around Jayne.

“Yeah, but actually Vince offered to take me home.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, it’s on the way,” You shrugged. “I don’t think he drank tonight.”

“Wait, one sec,” Jayne pulled away from Alex to pull you from everyone else. “Vince?”

“What?” You furrowed your eyebrows. “He’s driven me home before.”

“He’s taking you to your place, that’s it, right?”

“Jesus Christ, Jayne, who do you think I am?” You laughed. “I am not sleeping with Vince Dunn, at least not tonight.”

She narrowed her eyes at the last part, pointing a warning finger at you, “No.”

“So, I guess it’s not Vince?” You smirked, crossing your arms around your chest.

“What’s not Vince?” You turned around, locking eyes with said person as he approached you both.

Jayne slapped your arm, “Nothing, just sad she’s not riding with us anymore.”

“You act like you’ll never see me again,” You teased her, playing along.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get her home in one piece,” Vince smiled. “Ready?”

“Yes,” You nodded before looking back at Jayne. “I’ll call you when I get home so you can tell me all about how mad you are I’m not letting you take me home instead.”

“Fuck off.”

“Do you guys even like each other?” Vince laughed after you returned your middle finger back to its place.

“We love each other,” You responded, following him towards his car. He opened the door for you, holding his hand out to guide you inside.

“Thank you,” You smiled. He nodded, and closed the door gently. You watched as he made his away around the car before sliding into the driver’s sear. After starting the car, he tapped a few buttons on the monitor.

“Pick your vibe, Y/N,” He said, connecting your phone to his bluetooth. It had been months since you were in Vince’s car, and you phone name was ‘Jill Nora,’ nothing near your actual name.

“Why do you have my phone saved?” You laughed. “And, how do you even know that’s me?”

“I let you connect every time you’re in here because last time you saw a text I got and wouldn’t let me live it down for weeks.”

You smirked knowingly, before selecting a song from your playlist. As Vince pulled off, you let the soft music fill the car. The streets were pretty empty on your way back, and Vince had such a nice car that you could barely feel the potholes he drove over.

“Before you go,” Vince said once you were a few blocks away from your home. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“How would you feel about going out with me?”

You were expecting this.... Vince never failed to flirt with you, it was almost in his DNA. But, you knew past all that, you were friends. Attractive friends, yes, but friends nonetheless. Also, Jayne made it very clear that it wasn’t him. You agreed.

“Vince,” You started, “What body part are you thinking with right now?”

“Come on, you can’t tell me we wouldn’t have fun.”

“Well, what I’m looking for is much more than fun,” You said as he pulled into your driveway.

“You don’t think I can be serious?”

“If you wanted to, you could. But, I don’t think I’m your person, Vince.”

He pouted, “You’re breaking my heart.”

You laughed, opening the car door. “You are hot as hell, Vincent. You know that, but you also know we would not be a good match in the long run. I’d much rather keep you as a friend than end up hating you.”

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kniesyswrld · 4 years ago

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Under the Table• v.dunn

(You suck his cock under the table while he is on a zoom call with some other players)

Warnings: Smut (kinda) and Some-what PDA

“Oh baby.” I moaned softly as he sucks my clit “You taste so good.” He said and then stopped, “What time is it?” He asks me, “3:30.” I told him, as I put my phone back down.

He stood up and I whined, “What the fuck, Vince! Come back here and eat my pussy.” I said to him, “I will then, baby. I just have a zoom in like a few minutes.” He said.

“Baaaabe, please my pussy needs you.” I said to him and he grins, “Sorry.” He shrugged and I get off the couch, he watched my naked body as I went upstairs to get dressed in one of his button up’s and panties.

I came back downstairs and he was on a zoom, “Uh yeah, it was a really good time with him. He bought me a drink at the bar and we started talking about hockey, and became good buds.” He explains to some question that was asked.

“That’s awesome, real awesome.” The interview said and I get on my hands and knees, crawling under the desk and he looked down at me. He smirks a bit then looked up as if nothing was happening.

I pulled his pants down quietly, “Next question, you single? Girls been coming up to me and asking if you’re single.” The guy asked, I look at him and bit my lip.

“No. I have a gorgeous girlfriend, potential wife, named Y/n Y/l/n.” He said and I wink at before putting his whole cock in my mouth, his hips jutted forwards.

He bit his lip, “That’s awesome. Does she have a social media presence?” He asked, “Yes, but she doesn’t want to post pics of us right now, because of crazy girls.” He laughed and the interviewer, I’m guessing, nods.

“I love her a lot though and she’s really good.” He said and covered his mouth, “Like good at being a girlfriend.” He corrects himself, I smirked at him and pulled his whole cock down my throat.

His breath hitched, “Where is she right now?” He asks from the computer, “Our room.” He smiled and they decide moving on to other guys.

“So Mathew are you single?” The guy asked, “Yes.” He laughed and they nod, “Any girl who you’re interested in, or guy?” They asked, “Into girls, but none at the moment.” He shrugged.

Vince’s cock twitched in my mouth and I knew he was gonna cum, his hand wrapped my hair and he moved his face out the camera view. “Fuck.” I moaned quietly to where only he’ll hear me.

“Shit.” He said and the guys probably didn’t hear it, his cum spilled in my mouth and I swallow it. Opening my mouth to show him, I crawl out the desk and ran upstairs.

I put on some leggings and a hoodie of his, I walked downstairs and sat on his lap. “There’s the girlfriend!” The interviewer, “Hi.” I smiled and the other guys also on the call smiled at me.

“Love the hoodie, Y/n.” Jordan Binnington said and I chuckled, “Thank you.” I smirk and Vince kissed my cheek. “So did you hear the comment of how you’re Vince’s potential wife.” The guy asked.

I wrap my arm around Vince’s neck and look down at him, smiling, “He’s the sweetest.” I said and kissed his forehead. “I’m going to cook dinner.” I stated and they wave.

“Bye, love.” He said to me and I kissed his lips quickly, he must’ve tasted himself because he smirked at me.

#nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #hockey smut #nhl smut #vince dunn #vince dunn smut #st louis blues

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milfgritty · 4 years ago

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are you mine? | v. dunn

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ genre: angst ❀ ⇢ word count: 1.2k

“are you mine?” you had asked him once. the answer? he was, is, and probably will be for a long time. he just wished he had told you that when you asked him.

⇢ posted: 08.09.20 . | . masterlist

Memories flashed behind his eyelids like a movie, continuous, and never ending as he laid still in bed. They taunted him, made him yearn somehow even more for the past that had slipped through his fingers. The past with you.

“Are you mine?” you had whispered against his lips, breathing shakily. Nervous.

Over and over, your words on a loop. The heartbreak clear in your eyes that you tried to hide—that he hated himself for not noticing it at that moment, not until it was too late—when he laughed.

“Why would I be?”

It was instantaneous, the response leaving him before he could properly think. At the time, he didn’t think anything of it. You weren’t dating, you weren’t together.

You were…friends. You weren’t each other’s.

He watched you pull back, couldn’t stop the confusion that filled him when he saw the hurt that flashed lightning quick across your face. “Oh,” you mumbled softly, quietly, and yet it still managed to pierce him.

He was going to go crazy if he didn’t somehow manage to forget about you soon. Flopping onto his other side, the hotel room bed squeaked loudly under him. In his hand was his phone, open to the same picture that had been taunting him for days on end.

You—beautiful, happy—leaning into the side of some guy that he’s never seen you with before. He realized it didn’t mean much, given the months that had passed since you last saw each other. And sure, there were other people in the picture, but he just couldn’t focus on anything other than you. From the way your clothes clung to you, to the hair that always managed to fall into your face, and to your smile, so wide and bright and exactly like how you used to smile up at him.

He couldn’t help the way his heart clenched at the sight, no matter how many times he tortured himself with it. He knew he didn’t deserve to feel the pain or wish that he was the one you were so close to. He was the one that made it clear that he wasn’t yours all those months ago.

Why would I be?

But there were times, times that were happening far more often, like now, that made him ache for something else. Because he missed you. He missed them.

Except there wasn’t a them, never had been and never will be. He made sure of it, intentionally or not.

He reached out for you, trying to keep a grip on your waist that was proving futile as you moved farther and farther away. “Why would there be?” he tried, “You’re not mine, I’m not yours. That’s just how this is, isn’t it?”

A catch of breath, a single pained gasp, almost too quiet for him to make out. “You’re right.”

He could see the thinly veiled agony in the way you held yourself, the way you were retreating from him both physically and mentally. He just didn’t understand. Why? Why this, why now?

He understood now, and he hated that it took you leaving to get here. Hated that he had to lose you in order to realize just how much he was losing by keeping the two of you in some half-assed limbo, not together, but not apart. Yours, but not.

He knew wishes weren’t real, that no matter how hard he wanted to go back to that night and say something, anything, differently it wouldn’t matter. But it didn’t stop him from the overwhelming desire to have you be his, just his, for just one more night. To be here, with him. To let him make everything right again. If it was ever even right at all.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” he asked, at a loss for words. Why was this happening, why were you pulling away?

The sad laughter that shook your body suffocated him, made him involuntarily gulp for air.

“So much, Vince,” your voice shook as you answered him. The smile adorning your lips—the ones that were on his what feels like an eternity ago but were in all actuality barely a handful of minutes—was nowhere near the one that he had, at some point, come to treasure. It was instead the smile you would give him when you thought he wasn’t looking, the one he saw when he would give you his jacket or bring you coffee. The one he saw when he would subconsciously kiss the side of your head.

He only recently realized that it was the smile you gave him when you knew your time together was ultimately limited, but still worth every second.

Presently, it was the same smile that he had when he would stumble upon pictures of the two of you together, happy, and so blissfully ignorant of what lay ahead. The only difference between them was the tinge of bitterness behind his, the knowledge that he had ultimately ruined everything for both of you.

He shook his head, bringing his hands up to press the palms into his eyes. “What’s that even supposed to mean?”

He missed the way your eyes lingered on him, drinking in everything you could. He missed your half step toward him before you stopped yourself. He missed the hasty way you wiped away a falling tear, refusing to let this moment be any more painful.

“It means that this lasted far longer than it should’ve,” you told him, still smiling at him and fuck, why did this hurt?

“That doesn’t make any damn sense.” His hands moved upward to grab at his hair. He yanked at the strands, the physical pain providing a momentary distraction from the emotional pain.

You let loose a light breath of laughter, lifting your shoulders in a halfhearted shrug. “It doesn’t have to. Whatever this was wasn’t going to last and deep down we both knew it.”

You were right, of course. But in the end, he took everything for granted. He didn’t know what he wanted, and he used you for what he needed without stopping to think why it was you, always you.

“What are you saying?” he asked, refusing to wrap his head around this. He couldn’t. He didn’t want to.

His eyes followed you as you made your way back to where he stood. He didn’t move as you stretched yourself up to press a kiss to his cheek. His eyes only closed when you made contact. He held the air inside his lungs as you lingered, unable to breathe.

“I’m saying this is for the best,” you smiled, eyes glistening as they peered up into his. “Take care of yourself, Vince, for me.”

Watching you leave that day, a part of him refused to admit that you were right. He was angry for weeks. At you, at himself, at everyone.

It took him a while, but he came to terms with it. It hurt like hell, but it was for the best. He wasn’t ready for anything serious, wasn’t ready for you.

Wasn’t good enough for you.

“Are you mine?”

And yet, every single day he wished he had said yes when you asked him if he was yours.

#vince dunn #vince dunn fic #vince dunn imagine #vince dunn x reader #renwrites #st louis blues #mine #writing #fic #imagines #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #nhl imagines #nhl writing #hockey writing #hockey fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagines #dunner

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tessisawriter · 4 years ago

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Invisible String, Part 1 (Colton Parayko)

Request: Can you write an imagine where the reader is John Krasinski’s [niece] but she’s dating Colton Parayko and like she has to breaks the news and John acts mad or something and scares them but then he says he’s joking and he’s fine with it? Thanks

***NOTE***: I changed some details in the last scene b/c I moved the timeline up from October 7 to September 14.

A/N: I’m back! The protagonist is an OC but I decided to call her Y/N instead of giving her an actual name b/c John Krasinski has nieces and/or nephews irl. I already planned the entire plot but idk whether the series will be 2 or 3 parts—I’ll post an update when I know more. This series takes place from March 2018 to June 2019 and is loosely based on Taylor Swift’s “Invisible String.” Here is the playlist.

Warnings: Six swear words, rough breakup, alcohol, loneliness & homesickness

Word Count: 3.4k

March 21, 2018

You were impervious to the mix of pitying and derisive glances from passersby as you sat on the curb. You knew you looked like a cliché, crying in front of a restaurant because your boyfriend broke up with you on your 22nd birthday, but you didn’t care. One question gnawed at you: how had six words upended your seemingly perfect day and relationship?

Your brain was buzzing with activity, wondering if Max had given you any clues that something was amiss. This morning, you woke up in his Cambridge apartment to him singing “Happy Birthday” while kneeling at the side of the bed. As soon as Max finished singing, he kissed you before grabbing his backpack and hurrying out of the room. That didn’t mean anything, though: Max was one of the only seniors to have the misfortune of taking all morning classes because his major was Theater, Dance, and Media. He was also (as usual) running late.

The rest of the day unfolded like any other Wednesday as you followed your schedule of lounging in bed, studying for an hour, going to the sandwich shop across the street for lunch, and heading to campus at 1PM for your classes. Afterwards, you went back to the apartment to find Max waiting there, already dressed for dinner. You quickly showered, curled your long (Y/HC) hair, and changed into a dark green dress and black booties before taking his hand and going to an Italian restaurant in Boston’s North End.

There were no warning signs at dinner, either. In fact, everything was perfect until you were waiting for the check and Max said with a detached look in his eyes, “I think we should break up.”

You didn’t want to relive what happened next, but the images of you acting like Elle Woods when Warner broke up with her in Legally Blonde popped into your head unbidden. You closed your eyes in humiliation and shame as you remembered Max, the man you dated for three years, abandoning you at the table and fleeing the restaurant. The other customers stared at you, some sympathetic, others scandalized, and the rest in pure shock.

You snapped out of the flashback when you felt a large hand rest on your shoulder. You whipped your head around to find a young man with blonde hair and black rimmed glasses squatting next to you on the curb.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

The panic faded as you took in the man’s features. He was definitely in his 20s, probably a few years older than you, and his blue eyes were filled with concern. Something about that concern, though, made you snap.

“Do I look like I’m okay? I mean, come on, look at me!” you demanded while pointing at your face, which you (correctly) assumed had giant black streaks of mascara on it.

You fully expected the man to walk away and leave you be, but he sat down on the curb instead and said, “My bad, that was a stupid question. I’ve got some tissues if you want them?”

That made your attitude soften. He was only trying to help, so you nodded and he handed you a pack of tissues from his pocket. You smiled at him, took the tissues, and wiped your eyes and face. As soon as you were satisfied that they were clean, you broke the silence. “Thank you…?”

“Colton, and it’s no problem. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.” You held out your hand for him to shake, which he did. After a pause, you asked: “Why did you stop? Surely you have somewhere better to be tonight.”

He chuckled, and the sound of it made your heart flutter. “I was just heading back to my hotel when I saw you, and I figured I’d stop and make sure you get home safe. That is, assuming you live here?”

“Yeah, I live in Cambridge.” As soon as the words left your mouth, you realized they were no longer true, so you amended your statement. “Well, I lived in Cambridge until about 15 minutes ago when my now ex-boyfriend dumped me. On my fucking birthday.”

“Shit, that sucks. I’m really sorry.” He paused before adding, “I’m assuming he isn’t here.”

“Nope. He hightailed it out of the restaurant as soon as he got his credit card back.”

Colton shook his head. “What a jackass.”

“I know, right? I wasted three whole years with someone who not only broke up with me in a very public setting on my birthday, but also couldn’t be bothered to ask where I would go! He probably assumed I’d go to my parents’ house, but still.”

“Your parents live here?” Colton asked as he fished his phone out of his pocket and unlocked it.

“Yeah, right by Boston Common, why?”

“I’ll get an Uber and drop you off before going back to the hotel.”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that,” you protested while going through your bag for your phone. “We just met! I’ll pay.”

“Nonsense. You’ve been through a lot tonight. Let me take care of it.”

You stared into Colton’s eyes and realized he wasn’t going to back down. It took everything in you to suppress your pride, thank him, and provide the address. Colton typed it into his phone, waited for a moment, and said, “The closest one is around the block.”

“That’s good.” Your burst of energy dissipated as quickly as it came, and you fell silent. From the corner of your eye, you saw Colton open his mouth as if to say something before the headlights of a car momentarily blinded you.

“That’s the Uber.” Colton stood up and offered his hand, and you took it. You couldn’t help but notice how well they fit together as he pulled you up and off the curb, but after regaining your balance, something else grabbed your attention: his height.

“Gee, how tall are you? No one’s ever made me feel like a dwarf before,” you joked as he led you to the car, your hands still intertwined.

He chuckled and opened the door for you. You let go of his hand and slid into the car. After Colton slid in next to you and shut the door, he replied, “I’m 6’6” and no one’s ever made me feel like I’m not a giant before. You’re what, 5’10”?”

“6 feet, actually,” you corrected him. “So, where are you from, Colton?”

“St. Albert; it’s just outside Edmonton in Canada, but I’ve been in the States for a while. I went to the University of Alaska in Fairbanks before moving to, uh, St. Louis.”

You noticed Colton’s hesitancy and the fact that he lowered his voice when saying “St. Louis,” and you were about to ask why when you thought better of it. You were protective of your privacy, too, especially whenever people commented about how funny it was that you shared the same last name as John Krasinski. It wasn’t a coincidence—he was your uncle, and the two of you were extremely close—but you went along with it and never corrected them because it wasn’t their business. So, you let it go. “And what brings you to Boston?”

“Work,” he said before changing the subject. “What do you do? Are you still in school or—”

“I’m a senior at Harvard,” you cut him off. You generally didn’t drop the “H-bomb,” as you and your friends called it, with people you didn’t know well, but this was a special case. Colton just confirmed he was hiding something, and after looking at him in better lighting, his face seemed familiar, which weirded you out. You had to get back on equal footing, and the H-bomb almost always unsettled people.

“Wow, you must be really smart,” Colton said, seeming impressed but unphased. You couldn’t help yourself from raising an eyebrow as he asked, “What’s your major?”

“Government. What was yours?”

“Business administration.”

“Ah.” You fell silent again, this time on purpose, as you racked your brain for where you might have crossed paths with Colton. He wasn’t from Boston, not even close, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that you’d seen him before, and recently.

Colton didn’t let you ruminate for long before reviving the conversation. “What do you want to do when you graduate?”

“I’ll be a lawyer one day, but I have to be a paralegal first. I’m looking for jobs right now.”

Before Colton could reply, the car came to a stop. You looked out the window and saw your parents’ townhouse and your childhood home.Your time in the car had flown by, a sensation you rarely, if ever, experienced. And there was something between you and Colton, a connection you couldn’t quite describe, that made you want to spend more time with him. But your time was up. “This is me. It was nice to meet you, Colton, and thanks again for the ride—I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem,” he replied. “I’m glad I found you.”

You were overwhelmed by an intense desire to ask for his number. If only he lived in Boston or somewhere in the Northeast. But he lived in St. Louis, so you moved to open the door, only to feel Colton’s hand wrap around yours and hear him say: “Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You turned around and locked eyes with him. It was like being in a trance, and your heartbeat thundered in your ears.

It felt like years, but it was more like a few moments before Colton let go of your hand. “Good luck with the search. I’m sure you’ll find a good job.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of disappointment, but you just said, “Thanks,” and smiled at him before getting out of the car.

***************

The smell of bacon finally lured you out of your bed at noon the next day.

It had been a rough night. The reality of the breakup hit you like a ton of bricks when you rang the doorbell and all but collapsed in your mom’s arms when she answered the door. She brought you over to the couch, where your dad was waiting anxiously. As soon as you sat down, you grabbed your mom and cried for an hour straight as she held you and stroked your hair. You knew Max wasn’t worth your tears, but it had more to do with you. Despite his major, he wasn’t that good of an actor, and yet, he fooled you into thinking he could be your person. You took immense pride in your instincts, but they failed you with Max. How could you have possibly fallen in love with such a heartless person? More terrifying, would you have ended up marrying him a few years down the road if he hadn’t broken up with you?

You didn’t know the answer to either question, so you stopped crying and began venting about how the breakup went down. Your dad almost hit the ceiling after hearing that Max left you at the restaurant, and you had to talk him out of driving to Cambridge to “give that little shit a piece of my mind!” That wasn’t to say you weren’t thinking about revenge, but your dad potentially getting arrested was not helpful. After that, you started crying again, only this time out of frustration, and didn’t stop until you practically passed out on the couch. The last thing you remembered was your parents guiding you up the stairs to your bed.

Thankfully, you had no classes on Thursdays, so you were able to sleep in and be, if nothing else, well-rested. Your stomach rumbled when you smelled the bacon, so you got out of bed and made your way down the stairs to the kitchen, where your parents were sitting at the table and watching the television.

“Ugh, why are you watching the news?” you said as a way of greeting while making a beeline for the bacon.

“Good morning to you, too, sweetheart,” your dad replied. “I’m waiting for the sports report. I missed the game last night and Uncle John wouldn’t tell me the score. He said he’s sorry about, I quote, ‘the scumbag’ and he’ll call you tonight.”

“God, I miss him. And you,” you addressed your mom as you shoveled a load of bacon onto your plate, “are the best.”

“See, honey? I knew bacon would cheer her up,” she said to your dad.

“I didn’t doubt it. Y/N, we have to figure out a time to get your stuff from that piece of shit’s apartment. I’m not letting you go by yourself, but do you want to let him know ahead of time or just show up?”

“Who did the B’s play?” you sat down at the table and changed the subject immediately. You didn’t care about sports, but your dad and Uncle John were major Bruins fans and the mere mention of Max gave you a headache.

“The Blues.”

“Where do they play again?” you asked as you ate your bacon. It had to be a team from the Western Conference, but the only teams you knew there were the Canucks and Blackhawks because they were on your dad’s shit list.

“St. Louis.”

You almost choked on your food. “What?”

“St. Louis, sweetie. You know, the Gateway Arch—”

“Yeah, I know, Mom,” you recovered. “That’s the team Jenna likes, right, Dad?”

“Yes. Shh, here it is!” He didn’t need to tell you twice; you doubted Colton was a professional hockey player, but your curiosity won out as you intently watched the television.

The score flashed on the screen—an OT loss for the Bruins—and your dad groaned. “Ugh, I’ve got to turn this garbage off.”

And suddenly, a few Blues players, including one that looked awfully similar to Colton (albeit without glasses), flashed onto the screen. You didn’t get a good enough look at him to be sure, though, because your dad changed the channel. You let out a noise of frustration.

“What’s wrong, sweetie?” your mom asked, and your dad looked like he had the same question when he turned away from the television.

“I’ll text the scumbag and tell him I’m coming this afternoon, if that’s okay with you, Dad,” you said. “I want to get it over with and besides, I need my laptop and textbooks.”

“That’s perfect, sweetheart. The office doesn’t need me today, anyway.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back; my phone’s upstairs,” you called out behind you as you raced back up the stairs. You did not want to text Max, but it was better than telling your dad that the man he praised for making sure you got home last night was potentially part of the team responsible for his beloved Bruins’ loss.

You locked your bedroom door and grabbed your phone to pull up Google and the St. Louis Blues roster. Part of you thought there was no way a professional hockey player actually cared enough to bring you home, but the Blues being in town and one of its members resembling Colton were too many coincidences for your liking. You tapped your foot impatiently as the phone loaded the roster, and you scrolled through the list until you found a name of interest.

“C. Parayko, 55, R, 6’6’’…”

It cut off after that, so you scrolled sideways to see the other information. It left you without a shadow of doubt, but you clicked on the name anyway to view a picture. Colton’s headshot and full first name stared back at you as if they were looking into your soul.

It really was him. You had to have seen him on the little television at the sandwich shop’s register yesterday.

But what did this information mean for you, really, besides discovering his identity? It was nice to know his full name because it confirmed that he was a real person instead of a delusion your reeling mind made up, but it didn’t change one important fact: you lived in Boston and he lived in St. Louis. Barring a radical change in one of your lives, which you didn’t see happening, that was the reality of the situation. It was time to stop dreaming and confront your immediate future.

You pulled up Max’s number and began composing the text which, after several drafts, read: “I’ll be at the apartment today from 3 to 5. My dad’s coming with me, so make yourself scarce. I want my shit back.”

***************

6 months later: September 14, 2018

You were miserable only two weeks after relocating to St. Louis.

It was funny how one phone call could completely change someone’s life. In your case, said phone call involved an extremely attractive job offer with a clear path for advancement within one year. The offers you had received from legal firms in Boston, New York, D.C., and Philadelphia were underwhelming, to say the least, and you were only a week away from graduation. You had already endured a lot of change this year, so why not one more?

After nearly giving your parents a heart attack but ultimately receiving their blessing, you accepted the offer and moved to St. Louis on September 1st. Uncle John had been especially supportive, enlisting Jenna (known by the rest of the world as Pam from The Office) to fly out from L.A. and show you around the city last week. She made sure you knew the ins and outs of the city, which you really appreciated. You also loved your job. You were doing important work every day, and your boss was already hinting at giving you the promotion you wanted.

So, why were you unhappy? It was your social life, or rather, lack of one. You didn’t know anyone in St. Louis, and while your coworkers weren’t mean, they didn’t make you feel welcome, either.

That seemed to have changed earlier today when two of your desk neighbors who were around your age, Harper and Ellie, invited you out for drinks after work. You couldn’t have been happier. You went home after work, did your hair and makeup, put on your favorite royal blue mini dress, and met them at the dive bar you recommended. You were so excited on the way over that you could barely sit still; maybe you’d make friends with these girls and finally feel like you fit in in this city.

Unfortunately, that didn’t happen. Harper and Ellie abandoned you within less than five minutes after two guys came over and asked them to dance. You were now sitting at the bar alone, nursing a cocktail and despairing over your situation.

It was times like these when you thought about Colton. It had been six months since you’d met him in Boston, and you didn’t want to risk looking like a lunatic by slipping into his DMs on Instagram, but you were getting desperate. It was bad enough that being from the Northeast made you stick out like a sore thumb, but the loneliness was eating you alive, and the combination made you feel unmoored. Maybe a familiar and friendly face could change that.

As if God had answered your prayers, you heard a commotion near the entrance. You swiveled your stool in that direction and saw a group of tall, good-looking men in their 20s entering the bar. The tallest one had blonde hair and black rimmed glasses.

It was Colton.

Your brain screamed at you to look away and approach him after he settled in, but you couldn’t take your eyes off of him as he laughed at something one of his friends said. It was as if he felt your stare because he suddenly looked in your direction and appeared to gasp.

It was only then that you turned away and faced the bar, drinking the rest of your cocktail in a few gulps. You were so embarrassed; he probably thought you were a stalker or something. You were about to flag down the bartender for another drink when you felt that familiar large hand rest on your shoulder.

You turned your head and found Colton staring at you, his blue eyes full of incredulity and…happiness?

“Y/N. It’s really you,” he breathed.

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