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writersundersiege · 3 months

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The New Girl in Town Pt 6

Rafe Cameron x F! Reader

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A/n: This one is another long one, and it took me so freaking long to edit, and honestly, I don’t know how I feel about this chapter. I will let you all be the judge. Should I keep doing this one this way or just do it based on whatever comes to mind?

The New Girl in Town - Masterlist

Summary: When Rafe comes to your rescue at the boneyard, what happens when things develop with him rapidly? But maybe things aren’t what you thought initially. Are the people of Outerbanks right about the boy you’re starting to feel so much care for?

MDNI 18+

Warnings: Storms, grief, death, insinuation of sexual themes, violence, weapons, swearing, drug use, and drug abuse, as well as some slight talks of addiction. Sexual themes: unprotected sex, smut, slight aftercare, soft! Rafe

That night, from two separate spots on the same property, two people couldn’t sleep comfortably.

You laid on the Druther’s, soft volume playing on Netflix from Sarah’s laptop; you could feel the waves slowly rock the boat, the double door slightly open, letting in the biting sea breezes that floated through the night while you sat and stared out the window of the ship that looks towards Tannyhill.

Sarah's sleeping frame on the couch across from yours. rises slowly up and down from breathing.

Looking back towards the vast house, you notice one dim light is on and immediately recognize it as the room one door down from Sarah, Rafe's room.

Earlier, he nearly slammed the door so hard to his room it shook the whole wall that connected his room to his sisters, and then a giant storm cloud of doubt swarms you.

From the second you stepped foot on the island, you’d heard about a boy named Rafe who was troubled and unbalanced. The first thing you heard about him was right before you met him while moving in.

The moving caravan stopped at a hardware store; you were buying a drink while your dad needed razors for the box cutters your mom had newly ordered to unpack.

You entered the smaller store, smelling of freshly cut wood and slight hits of cleaning oils, soft elevator-type music played.

Other than your father and you, there were workers, including a few boys your age and an older man standing at the register, but they were the only occupants of the store.

As you were browsing the refrigerator section, trying to decide what to get. Faintly, you could hear two boys in the other aisle talking, and they seemed rather upset.

Trying your best to mind your business, you round the corner, making your way towards the register where you can already make out your dad’s smiling face, leaning on the counter and looking back towards you.

In the last moments, you catch the boy stocking shelves, his messy brown hair falling in his eyes, saying, “Then after all that bullshit, dude, I go looking for her only to find her right underneath Rafe fucking Cameron.”

The redheaded boy, who sits on the floor, stocking shelves, listening to the boy next to him, shaking his head while continuing stacking, says, “is how it is out here, always has been, man. That isn’t the first girlfriend you’ll have stolen right from under your nose, nor will it be the last. Kooks take what they want.”

This makes you stop and step back, looking down at what appears to be outlet covers. Still, too enveloped in the things you don’t know but are curious about, you pretend to pick them up and be reading the back but listening to the boys.

Your dad stands at the front counter, watching you for a moment, frowning as you look at the light switch covers but shrugs, walking to a display shelf they had set up for electric hand tools that weren’t far from the front.

“Cameron and all the snobby rich kids on this island get what they want not because they deserve it but because they're crazy, and Rafe, man, I mean, he’s ruthless; he’s borderline psychotic, nah not borderline, he is psychotic I mean there are so my examples…”

He begins to trail off but immediately starts again: “One time, I watched him beat the hell out of a dude at a party who touched his truck by accident, mind you; the man was smiling back blood in his teeth, taunting the kid who wasn’t even fully conscious anymore till people pulled him off. I’ll never forget that, and the kid still has a huge scar on the side of his head from the fight.”

The messy-haired boy had been intensely listening the entire time, just like you so much, so you think it’s time to stop being intrusive and be on your way, considering not only are you eavesdropping, but you’re taking part in gossip that could be entirely subjective you don’t know any of these people and it’s best not to make a prior illusion of someone you’ve yet to meet.

The last thing you hear as you leave the aisle back turned but recognize it to be the brown-haired boy's voice saying, “It sucks. I thought she liked me; Cameron has everything: the perfect family, house, and life; no wonder she doesn’t want someone like me when someone like him even offers. I’m just some kid who grew up on The Cut, so whatever, I guess, keep moving forward, right?” the red-haired boy pats his back, saying, “Don’t worry, bro, we got you Pogues for Life.”

Eventually, you reach the register, quickly pay, and hurry out the doors; your dad catches up behind you, pointing back and saying, “You find a looker in there cause if you did and you're too shy, I could—“

You cut him off with a rupture of laughter that leaves him wide-eyed, saying, “No, please, we all saw your wingman capabilities were subpar at best a few months ago; ring a bell, cute waiter on the royal Caribbean cruise we took for Mom's birthday.”

Your dad stops walking with you, turning to face you, becoming mock-offended, throwing his hand to his chest. “You smite me (F/N). That was one slip-up, and frankly, don’t blame me for the strawberry daiquiris; they did all the talking that night.”

You shake your head, giving him a skeptical look. “I don’t remember a glass of Strawberry and Rum saying to a fully grown man. Who was working; may I remind you. that if he didn’t already have a girlfriend and wanted a good one or just wanted a new one…I was single, and then leaving my freaking phone number on a napkin, nope, pretty sure it was you.”

You end poking him in the chest with a small laugh and kind eyes because it is a story to laugh about; he gives you a defeated look while pushing you both to walk back slowly. You don’t notice till halfway there your dad is relatively still, and his defeated look turns to regret or sorrow; “Dad.”

Right as you make it back to the caravan, your father looks up, eyes wide; he gently grabs your face, cupping your cheeks in his hands and placing a kiss on top of your head before pulling you in a vast Charlie-style bear hug, swinging you back and forth squeezing till you felt you couldn’t breathe but you laugh a hearty laugh.

Moments like these remind you of being a little girl and playing with your dad on the beach, collecting shells, and splashing and running along the water line. These moments made you feel free.

He sets you gently on the ground, saying as he’s hugging you, “This time is gonna be different, Peanut, I promise.” You hug him tighter, not precisely sure what he’s talking about, but getting an idea from the look of sorrow you saw shadow his face. You break apart, smiling at him and hopping in the car, driving to your new home.

And that’s when you finally saw him in the flesh; at first, you didn’t know who he was, but out of the group at Topper's playing basketball, he’s the one that immediately caught your eye.

When you saw him, you knew from that second he was not only gorgeous but so dangerous. he was playing ball with the boys, moderately sweaty but nowhere compared to the other two, who were nearly drenched, which showed his athleticism; he had hard lines in his eyebrows almost seeming to have a permanent frown on his face.

His hair, which was so sandy and dirty blond, reminded you of the beaches back home and their mix of yellow and brown sparkling slightly when the sun would glint on it, and it hung right in his eyes, causing him to have to move it out of his face.

When he finally took attention to your arrival, you knew he was looking; you could feel his piercing gaze laid on you like an ice cub was being set right on the back of your neck, but you always knew when all of them were looking wherever you went, you could feel them, but when you had Luca, that feeling didn’t matter. Then he’d gone missing, and he’s still lost.

Luca had been gone so long now with nothing but his necklace and a note; he was the one who made you grounded, but now you want to live cause what if you go missing tomorrow? Wouldn't you like to say you lived extraordinarily? Would you like to say you loved it greatly? that you had fought valiantly?

Eventually, hearing a knock on the door, you opened it for the boys. You intentionally didn’t turn down your music, and watching them react to you was humorous but endearing.

Specifically, you watched Rafe and how his muscles flexed and unflexed under his shirt and his hair falling right in his eyes, making you want to walk over and push it out of the way for him. When you finally meet with his eyes, he asks you a question, and you smirk, seeing how much his eyes remind you of the sea, its depths, and darkness swirling around with the orbs of his irises.

You have never believed in love at first sight; it was an act of cinematic thrill, but you’d never really seen it or experienced it. Luca wasn’t your love at first sight. You had known and loved Luca your whole life, but you were eight years old when you knew you were in love with Luca, and from that day on, you loved him, and you loved him entirely.

He was your twin flame or soulmate in whatever sense it is. He helped to complete a part of you, but now, with him gone. You are changing and growing; what do you do when you’re sitting across from a man who’s standing and looking into you already like you hung the sun and the stars and for a reason unknown, you like it, you enjoy him, how he carries himself, the charm, the mystery, the coldness. Then, he also seems to show you the sincerity, gentleness, and fondness he has in him that he saves for unique events.

In a moment, you know one thing, and it is Rafe Cameron. He is going to be the death of you; from the moment he sat the dresser down in the room and looked around, softly taking in your space, you knew he was not what they say he is, whatever they make him out to be, it’s not truly him.

You’re going to understand who he truly is, and you have the same thoughts repeatedly as he jumps in for the clothes drives, goes on a drive with your dad, not losing it for you having to help Diana the other day and tonight picking you up from the Boneyard.

Rafe Cameron may be slightly self-absorbed and moody, but he cares much more than he can say or physically show.

As you come to from your thoughts, you realize you’ve been aimlessly staring at the ceiling of the boat at some point while being engrossed by the idea of a man you have yet to learn more about.

One last time, you glance at the windows, swearing to see the curtains slowly swaying as if someone had just walked away, and the light suddenly went out; with that, you turn your back to the window and fall asleep, letting the waves cradle you softly in your dreams.

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In the room now creeping with darkness, Rafe lies in his bed, staring at the door. He had been pacing his floors since he came back in from all the thinking of almost kissing you.

He was right there, and just like everything, Sarah had to get her nose right in it. He thinks back to earlier in the day when his sister had also tried to pull shit with him in front of you about Emma, which was a low blow, considering how many times Rafe has covered for her.

At one point, Rafe looked out to the boat, anchored at the end of their dock, looking to see if he saw any remnants of you sitting on the bow, looking out at the waves that are currently sparkling silver, with the light of the moon, beaming down onto it.

When Rafe sees nothing but darkness, the pushing and pulling of the waves, and the boat rocking next to the dock, he walks away from the window, lies down and shuts off the light.

Still thinking about you, in many ways, especially how you felt pressed so close to his body, the warmth you emitted on the ride back to Tannyhill making him feel like he was wrapped in a blanket, his thoughts get muddled between his perverse and benevolent thoughts. Still, one’s he’s not willing to tell you just yet.

Rafe doesn’t sleep the rest of the night; he sees you every time he closes his eyes, which in turn makes his heart and mind pulse rapidly, causing Rafe to toss and turn all night, getting no sleep.

He finally succumbs to sleep after he sees the beginning of the orange and pink shades of the sunrise gleaming through his window, putting a smile on his face, comforting him enough to fall asleep thinking about the way you looked when you blushed at him, calling you beautiful.

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The next day, you stayed for brunch with the Cameron family, minus Rafe; he didn’t show up, and nobody was sure where he was, considering his door was closed and no one saw him. They asked Sarah to knock, and she returned, saying, “He’s still sleeping, I think.”

It was lovely getting to know your new friend and her family and learning about their dynamic.

Everyone sat laughing and talking when Sarah kicked your foot under the table, making you look up to her; she nodded towards the Druthers. You see a boy who’s jumping onto the boat; you shake your head, indicating you’ll cover for her as she slowly gets up, saying Excuse me quietly and making her way to the dock and down on the boat; no one pays mind to her leaving though you can faintly see her before suddenly Ward says to you.

“So (F/N) what made your family move from California to the Outerbanks?” you look up at nearly the whole family looking at you anticipatory; you clear your throat and take a sip of water. The easy answer is your dad’s surfing business wanting to expand.

The honest answer was a lot; though you never wanted to be home, it seems like you could never leave home; it was never-ending the cycle of you feeling Luca. Whenever you took a step out the door, you’d start to sob and turn right back around and go in again. Since coming to the Outerbanks, you’ve been out more than you have in the year since you got the call: “There was a storm. Luca and Cameron, they can’t find them, but they will”

That sentence rings through your head, making you feel like spiders are crawling in your stomach and creeping up to create intricate webs on your bones.

You smile the best you can, noticing Sarah walking back to the table, looking somewhat frustrated with her conversation, simply replying, “It was time for a change, and Dad wanted to expand.” before you can say anything.

Sarah plops down as if nothing happened and says, “Sorry, I forgot this on the boat. What did I miss?” she smiles and holds up her phone even though Sarah has had her phone the whole time looking at you before you can say anything Ward says “Just getting to know (F/N)” he smiles at you.

“What does your mother do again?” you go to answer, but Sarah says, “C’mon, Dad, let the girl eat!” he chuckles, and you say, “It’s alright, she’s a history teacher.”

You check your phone and see your reminder going off. “I’m so sorry to be so rude, but I just realized my mother needs me to help her today, so I have to go,” Sarah smirks at you, knowing exactly where you are off to

You exchange pleasantries, secretly reminding Sarah to text you later about the boat. She vehemently shakes her head, and you’re rushing through Tannyhill, bag in hand when suddenly, you run straight into a firm, broad chest.

Long, strong arms immediately wrapped around your waist to protect you from falling on your butt. The fresh woody and citrus notes seem to encircle your mind and body, and immediately after that, you go from tense to relaxed, your head resting with your ear against the chest of the person and your heart thumping rapidly. You smile, closing your eyes and saying, “Rafe.”

Rafe's arms tense around you, and you hear him huff out a breath, looking up into his cosmically blue irises; he’s already looking down with a slight smirk when he says, “What’s got you in such a rush, Angel?” his husky voice dancing through your ears.

Rafe is shocked to see that you’re still here, and he’s even more shocked you’re still allowing him to hold you in his arms like this.

Last night, the fact that you ran away with Sarah so fast when you almost kissed made him think you didn’t mean any of it and maybe you’d gotten drunk at that kegger.

Now, though, as he looks down, you rest your chin on his chest, looking up at him; you look so small to him, saying in your discernible melodic voice

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you. I’m off to help my parents.” Rafe grunts out a croaky sounding “Where sweetheart?” and hearing how he said it made you start to word vomit everything you can think on the spot.

“Dad wants to make new advertisements and asked me to accompany the ambassadors today for a photoshoot. I have an eye for that, at least by Charlie’s standards. Also, since it’s about being here and he wants me to take over eventually, I’m supposed to be in the commercialization like how dad used to, and I’m just nervous.” you giggle slightly, realizing if you kept babbling; he’d stand, and hold you while you did.

Noticing this, you went to step back, but his hand didn’t leave your waist. Your hands dropped to his, laying them gently over his hands.

You both look back and forth at each other for a moment, searching the other's eyes, not knowing what to do or what move to make. Rafe had the urge to drag you up the stairs to his room, throw you down on his bed, and kiss you on every expanse of skin exposed to the eyes he had roaming you.

You feel the look he gives you like an apex predator hunting small game, waiting for the moment it turns its head to check in the other direction before it pounces; in the few seconds you stand there, you can feel the way his fingertips dig into your side like he’s afraid you’ll vanish before him for some reason that feeling makes you pull towards him.

Both of you feel the pull between you like an invisible string slowly yanking until it creates the perfected knots; your faces are even closer, then you can feel his hot breath fanning across your cheeks

Rafe gives it one nudge, pulling your body closer so both of your chests meet, eyes still locked; he could feel every curve and angle of your body pressing perfectly against him; it left his skin tingling all over his body, touching you like this.

He also could feel how warm you were, like you’d been laying out in the sun tanning on the hottest day of summer, but it made the blood that usually runs cold with anticipation get warmer. He leaned down just a bit to ghost his lips over yours.

In the lightest voice he could muster, he asks, “Would you like an escort to this event, ma’am?” he watches the corners of your lips curl, making his stomach twist and turn and a smile creep on his face.

You say, lips almost brushing his back. “I can protect myself this time, big guy, but I appreciate the offer.” Before Rafe can register what you’re thinking, you’re leaning into his lips, placing such a chaste peck it left his lips feeling like hot coals had burned them.

The next thing he knows, he hears your melodic laughter bouncing off the walls as you skip towards his door and smile from ear to ear, just like the day you met. Rafe couldn’t move, shocked not only that you had already kissed him but also that he didn’t react to it.

He watched your back, knowing it was in your nature to vanish. The best part about you is that you bring all of this joy wherever you go, and when you’re gone, you take it with you, but the aftershock of your nature leaves ripples like waves in the ocean, which seems to be the constant reminder of you to Rafe.

Your (H/C) hair bounces from side to side, wisps flying backward toward him, almost calling him to follow where your footsteps take him.

Once you make it to the front door with it slightly ajar, the sun creating a halo, you look over your shoulder to Rafe, saying, “See you around, Reef.” you are out the door before he can respond.

Rafe takes a minute to readjust himself and rewind what just happened in his mind because he, for the first time in his life, doesn’t know what to do with you.

It seems like when you’re around, his mind appears to shut down while also going into overdrive. After a few minutes of contemplating, he turns to walk outside to his family and is met face to face with Sarah, who’s looking at him disgusted.

Immediately, Rafe looks at her with a scowl, saying, “Why are you looking at me like that?” Sarah scoffs at him and walks right past, saying nothing and stomping her way up the stairs.

This entire show of emotion makes Rafe roll his eyes, yelling at her up the stairwell, “Drop the fucking attitude, Sarah. You don’t need to be so god damn difficult always; speak, stop acting like a child.” with this, he hears her door slam shut making him stomp his way to the kitchen huffing about her ruining everything for him.

On the walls outside Tannyhill, after taking a leap of faith and kissing Rafe, you sat in your Jeep outside the home, looking up at the vast white building and thinking everything anyone says about him is wrong; he’s just a boy who wants to be loved.

Whenever you do something and turn back to see if he’s looking, his eyes never seem to leave. When you call, he comes. He is always saying what you feel you need to hear. These thought makes you giddy and send you to The Hut to meet your parents, feeling like you’re on a cloud, gracing your face with a brilliant smile and a new rhythm in your heart.

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The next day, Sarah and Rose came over to invite you and your mother to go and sit with The Mason family later that morning, and you both gladly obliged.

They were a kind, small family of just Mr. and Mrs. Mason; they also had a sweet little girl who was only six years old; her name was Ellie; when the mothers were talking, you and Sarah were sitting on the porch steps looking around at the damage Hurricane Agatha created neither of you talking just observing the surroundings every once and awhile Sarah would text presumably Topper on her phone.

At some point, Ellie comes up to you, tugging on your pants to get you to look down, and she asked you if you would walk around the yard with her; you looked to her mother, and she shook her head, waving her hand and saying it was fine so you kneeled next to the girl smiling holding her by the shoulders saying “I would love to go on a walk with you” she looks at you wide-eyed and whispering, “Do you think Sarah will come to?”

Sarah picked up her head, hearing this on the spot. She looked like she was in a world of her own before. Her eyes are soft but show such care as she says, “I would love to join your walk.” she puts her hand out for Ellie, and you all walk down the porch and around the yard, talking about princesses, her Barbie’s village, and her Elephant that’s been missing since the storm.

At some point, you’re sitting on the dock while Sarah and Ellie walk back and forth down it, and you see three figures emerge from the side of the house; two of the boys wave towards the mothers sitting on the porch, and one stands with a drink and sunglasses staring right at the dock which is so obviously Rafe.

You look away, somewhat nervous seeing him after the kiss; when you glance away, you spot what looks like a stuffed animal under wires and grass.

In a moment, you stand calling Sarah and Ellie, pointing and asking, “Did you take your elephant in that boat?” she shakes her head vehemently. This makes Sarah kneel, asking about her stuffed animal and then saying she’ll get it.

“Sarah, are you sure we don’t know if those wires are live?” she smiles and laughs, waving you off. “It’s fine (F/N). I doubt it, but I can be careful.” She starts to climb onto the plank, and you kneel, taking Ellie and wrapping your arm around her shoulder, taking a step back from the dock, rubbing the side of her shoulder gently.

Rafe talks with Topper and Kelce, eyes tracing from his sister being stupid to you. He can’t help but smirk and sip his drink, thinking about how good you look, being caring and especially caring towards a child. You seem to be protecting the little girl, which makes Rafe smirk deeper into his drink.

At this point, all the moms are yelling, and Rose has come down trying to coax Sarah. Then none, to Rafe's surprise, Sarah pretends to be shocked, which makes everyone except Rafe and you panic.

Topper yells, rushing forward, and the moms gasp; you have the little girl tight in your arm, eyes wide in shock, and Ellie screams, “Sarah!” starting to cry; you pull her head to your neck, gently shushing her, saying, “No, no, she’s okay, it’s okay,” he can hear the slight quiver your voice makes which makes him roll his eyes scowling at Sarah knowing she’s doing this purposefully.

Your head pops up at the sound of Sarah laughing. Like little Ellie in your arms, your horrified faces turn to small smirks at the show Sarah put on. He takes one more look at you, waiting to see if maybe you'd look back, but you don’t, so he turns to head to Tannyhill.

After all of this, your mother calls your name, holding her phone and shaking it, “(F/N) Crush Waves, we gotta go.” your eyes go wide, remembering that you’re meant to be going to promote at the Charleston convention center they were putting on a Surf and Water sports event your dad wanted to go and set up a booth for some networking of the new branch of The Hut.

Once Sarah is back by Ellie, you rush off, but not before you look back to where Rafe was standing before, seeing him disappearing around the corner, frowning but continuing your pace off and out with your mom.

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Sarah🎀🦋: Want to come to the church's beach cleanup? Save the sea animals and get sand between your toes. Plus, your lead singer is going 😏

You wake up the following day to this text from Sarah, making you laugh and immediately messaging back.

(F/N)🗺️🌏: Sure, you can always use a little sand and some Kelce in your life.

You immediately get ready wearing shorts and a cropped shirt that says St. Jeffersons Athletics, which used to be your brother's years ago. You brush your hair and teeth, throw on some mascara, walk over to Topper's house, and knock.

The door is swung open, and you are met face to face with Topper's mother smiling “(F/N). What a pleasure to see you; what brings you here?” You go to speak, but you see Topper's head pop up from behind his mom, saying, “Hey (F/N), come in, Mom, she’s coming to the church to clean up with us.” she moves, and you walk through the door.

Topper takes you up the stairs to his room; you walk in to see Kelce lounging back, playing video games; when his head turns and sees you, he jumps up, walks over to you, and wraps an arm around you. “how are you, girl?” you smile hugging tightly back before you both step back while letting go saying “Pretty good going as usual” you all make friendly conversation for a few minutes before heading off to the beach.

Topper left separately from you and Kelce on his boat to pick up Sarah while Kelce drove you to the spot, allowing conversation.

He showed you different places as you passed on the island while listening and car partying to music; at one point, he stopped at a house and said he’d be right back, and you presumed it was his house by the way he slammed the door.

When Kelce re-emerged from the house, he looked at you, smiling, holding a considerably large water bottle, shaking it in the air, hopping back in the car, and handing it to you.

Your face scrunches, and you lift the bottle to your eyes, inspecting it. “What is this exactly?” you ask questioningly; Kelce laughs at the look on your face. “Don't worry there, pretty girl, just some fuel for us for clean up; trust me, these things tend to be a little taxing.” With that, he pulled off from the house towards the beach.

When you got to the beach, you listened to the pastor talk a little before he sent you all off; most of the event, you spent with Wheezie and Kelce so as not to intrude on their time. Sarah did, although, come and ask how the surf event went, and you let her know only a few small league surfers showed up this time, but Dad's table ran well; he ran out of business cards to distribute.

Sarah also ranted to you about the attitude John B gave her and how he stole scuba and got fired, blaming Sarah, but she didn’t tell Ward. You frowned at the fact he stole, not seeing the reason he would need to return something you’re stealing; essentially, the boy lost a job over the air, but you shrugged, saying, “I don’t know, Sarah, he’s gone through a lot maybe give him a little slack, he’s alone now. he misses his dad and is trying to figure it out on his own.” she stares a moment kinda shaking her head and squinting her eyes.

She also asked if you could help her cover if Ward calls looking for her and says she’s staying with you, and you agree; after these conversations, Topper comes back to walk with Sarah a bit, leaving you to talk to Wheezie also at some point during the conversation Kelce had disappeared.

As you walk up and down cleaning the surf with Wheezie, you hear her scoff, watching Topper and her sister; you look at her, eyebrow arched, asking, “What is it, Wheez?”

She whips her head to you with a scowl. “Sarah is what it is? She has been sneaking around, and she’s not telling me anything, but I saw John B leave the boat the other day, and she’s been sleeping there; she’s just being weird.”

Wheezie continues walking with you, throwing trash she sees in bags and stomping her feet; this makes you slow a bit, and say to her, “I used to think the same thing about my brother until he covered for me one day when I really needed him to.”

You stop waiting for the girl to turn to you, and she does, getting ready to say something, but before she can, you smile, cutting her off. “You may not understand or like your sister's actions or decisions, but she’s the only sister you've got, and she’s always going to love and protect you no matter how mad you get. Just remember that.” she sits thinking for a moment, slowly shaking her head

When you feel an arm wrap around your shoulder, you stiffen slightly until you see the mystery liquid from earlier shoved in your face; you hear Kelce through a chuckle behind you, saying, “Need a fill-up.”

You grab the bottle, take a sip, and wince at its strength. You hand it back to Kelce, and he walks to Sarah and Topper, you and Wheezie not far behind, and has them take a drink. Wheezie grabs it, making your jaw drop, and you start laughing while Sarah asks Wheezie, “Since when did you start drinking?” She shrugs and smiles. “Today.” This makes Sarah scold Kelce.

You all giggle, and suddenly, the Pastor walks around the corner to ask how you’re all doing. Topper calls to him, “Looking great, sir, we’re,” Kelce adds, “clearing the stretch.” he hides the water bottle of alcohol while you and Sarah say simultaneously, “Just hydrating.”

Eventually, it is the end prayer, and you guys are heading out; you tell Kelce you will head back with Topper and Sarah to help her on mission ‘Ward doesn't need to know.’

Sarah will ride back to your house with you, so Ward thinks she’s there. So Tooper drives you back to Tannyhill, and when you see Rafe's bike out front, it makes your heart skip.

Suddenly, Wheezie is pushing past you and Sarah, fast walking on the dock back to the house; you both exchange a bemused look and follow her slowly into the house.

As you go upstairs, you can hear Wheezie getting sick, and you look to Sarah, who shakes her head, letting you know she’ll be good. You walk to Sarah’s room, peeking to see if Rafe is home, but his door is closed, so you go into Sarah’s room, choose a book from her bookshelf, and lie on her bed looking through it.

When Sarah comes back, she asks you to talk to Ward with her, so you make your way down to the porch; on the way there, you and Sarah can hear Ward scolding Rafe; you stand back while Sarah sneaks up to listen; you can hear little bits, but it just makes you look down at your shoes to keep yourself from feeling too much guilt intruding.

At one point, you catch Ward's voice becoming more stern than before. “You need to get it together, Rafe, or you can go live on the Cut.” You don’t hear a response, but you do listen to him raising his voice at him and repeating himself and scolding Rafe for laughing at him.

What makes your blood boil is when you hear him say to his son, “Now get out of here; I’m sick of looking at you.” They go back and forth until Rafe walks through the door. And he hears Sarah, and he looks at her with so much coldness, scoffing and turning.

When you both make eye contact, it’s like everything goes on pause; you go to say his name, but the rage and wounded look in his eyes overtake you; he shakes his head and continues walking; you follow slightly, saying, “Rafe-wait” and your heart dropped when he kept going straight out the door.

Turning back to Sarah when she called your name, a slightly confused look shakes her to the porch; you slowly and cautiously move towards the porch, now feeling somewhat different about the man on the other side.

When Rafe made it to his bike, he whispered a hard “fuck” and then got on his motorcycle off to Barry’s to try and make up for all of this.

————————————————————————

On the drive to your house, music plays in the background; you don’t say much as you get closer; you finally speak up, saying, “Does Ward always talk to Rafe like that?” Sarah looks at you, squinting slightly, almost like she doesn’t know why you care. “I know he may seem charming to you (F/N), but it’s an act. Rafe sees everything and anything as property, and the more you have, the better you are; he’s got problems.” She shakes her head, looking forward, and you park the Jeep in your driveway.

Sarah turns, grabbing you by the hand, looking into your eyes, an earnest look on her face. “I know you may like him (F/N), but I care for you, and I don’t want him to mess around with you as he does with everybody else.” you slowly shake your head and say, “We’ll have to see what time will do.” with that, you’re slipping your hand from hers and opening the door smiling your usual smile but with slight discomfort and disappointment shadowing you “Have fun with Top Sarah.” she starts to say “(F/N)—“ but you’ve already closed the Jeeps door and are disappearing into your house.

When you enter, your mom and dad see you come through the kitchen entryway to the stairs, your mother trying to stop you at the bottom. “Hey Peanut, how was the beach cleanup?” both your parents stair at you, expecting excitement as usual, but they’re met with your back, and you say, “Fine.” they let you continue up the stairs after you are gone from view your parents look at each other, and your mom says “I’ve got it.”

When your mom knocks on the door, you are lying on your bed holding the sea shell bracelet you and Luca made when you were eight.

He had gone and found all the shells, and your parents helped you both get the tools to glue hooks, and you made it a bracelet, then Luca insisted you keep it. Sometimes, you wish you could ask him what to do cause he was the only one who knew you.

You hear a knock and sit up to see your mom open the door; she comes to sit in your bed with you a moment before saying, “Honey, what’s going on?” you sit for a short time, and she sits next to you, rubbing circles in your upper back.

After a while, you speak up, “The people out here seem so mixed up, like that Ward Cameron mom today. I literally heard him say to his son’s face he is sick of looking at him who even says that to their child.”

You throw your head in your hand, shaking it. “Also, there is Sarah; don’t get me wrong, I like her, but she’s so judgmental of him.” Saying this makes you stand, turning to look at your mom. “This whole island does, Mom; he’s been so sweet; he reminds me so much of Luca.” this part makes you pause, looking wide-eyed at your mom, who looks back softly.

A long moment passed, and your mom stood walking to you, taking your shoulder in her hands, brushing a hair from your eyes, and gently saying, “My sweet girl, the world will sometimes turn the victim into a villain, but you, my girl are so bright do what you know best ride the waves let it take you where you know” she kisses your forehead and leaves you to think.

————————————————————————

A few hours later, Rafe’s at Topper's getting ready for the party; when he’s in Topper's room grabbing the coke from his bag, he sees you lying on your window seal, looking out towards the bit of the sea. You can see at the back edge of the house, and your windows open, you are singing along to “In My Mind’ by Lyn Lapid

Rafe sees the sadness in your eyes; even from this far, your brow is creased, which makes him want to come over and run his thumb to make your face rest; it is too pretty to look so sad.

He opens Topper’s window, hearing fully now your voice rings out, singing; he sits on the edge and watches as your voice carries through the window.

Your skin seems to have a soft glow on it from the lights of your room. Your hair was wet like you’d let it dry after jumping straight in the ocean, creating beachy waves, making it look layered in beautiful shades of (H/C).

He listens to the words in the song but in your tone, making it feel like it’s just for him; he hears you sing

“Oh, but darling, running ain't enough to escape from

The monsters in my brain

People say I'm quiet most of the time

If only you knew what goes on in my mind.”

At this point, he can’t help but lean out, calling to you, “Your voice is very angelic; it reminds me of something.” your head whips towards Rafe's face, beaming, “Hey, Rafe.” immediately, your face drops.

You say, trying not to be loud but just enough for him to hear you. “are you okay?” he shakes his head, smiling. “Don’t worry bout me, angel; say how you would like to come to the party tonight.” you nod your head immediately, making Rafe smirk as you close your window.

He watches you scurry around your room, getting ready and still smiling, hoping for something good.

————————————————————————

By the time you make it over to Topper's house, there are people everywhere, and you are bumping into someone everywhere you walk till you feel a warm hand grabbing yours; you meet the smiling face of Kelce with a drink in his other hand. “Hey, I didn’t know you were coming.” you smile back and move your face to his ear cause the music and people are so loud, saying to him, “I wasn’t, but someone asked me to come.”

This makes Kelce smile almost shyly, and he turns his head to your ear as he says, “Cmom, let’s get you a drink, and we’ll chill by the pool; it’s less crowded.” you shake your head, eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of Rafe but you don’t see anything over the number of people. It’s so crowded you kept getting pushed, so you’ll hope he looks for you soon.

You were by the pool sipping a Gin and Sprite, talking to Kelce and a girl named Myra when you heard people yelling, “Toppers on the roof.” you looked over, laughing, knowing this is exactly what your friends back home would do Kelce nudges you whispering “10 bucks he belly flops” This makes you laugh throwing your head back grabbing his arm to steady yourself

You look at him with seriousness, saying, “I’m not gonna bet on my friend's pain, but 20 bucks he gets Sarah out there with him, and she freaks out halfway down,” giving him an evil smile.

He laughs, throwing his arms around your shoulders and pulling you closer to his side. You wrap your arm around his waist while he says, “You know, I like how you think I think we’re gonna be real good friends.”

You laugh again, laying your head on his shoulder, saying, “We are friends, weirdo,” watching Sarah and Tooper jump from the roof, you both celebrating for them and laughing as he hands you a 20 since you called it.

From afar, Rafe could feel his chest constrict, and his blood started to boil. You and Kelce were looking way too cozy for his liking. He didn’t even know you’d made it here yet, that is, until you laughed at Kelce and ran off with the girl Myra he knew from being in school.

Rafe watches Kelce's eyes trace the other girl, not you smirking; he walks off into the party until he can sell the coke; he can’t get distracted.

He’s got to do that before he can talk to you and do the things he’s been thinking about.

————————————————————————

When you eventually see Rafe again, you walk up from behind with Myra beside you. You look at the table covered in drinks and money and some white powder. All of the girls are talking and staring at Rafe, and he’s charming; the one he sits next to is bumping knees with him, and he leans back all of a sudden like he’s relaxed. Topper walks by you looking pissed off; you try and say

“Hey, top you alr—“ but he walks past you, and Rafe notices him, bringing the girl’s attention to Topper; catching your eyes for a moment, you frown, looking from him to the enormous group of women to the powder and he continues catching your eyes every few seconds as he talks.

When you see Kelce making his way to you and Myra, you nod at him and slowly disappear into the house and push through the house until you make it to the front quickly; you make it to your home and slowly and quietly go upstairs, laying in the darkness of your room staring at your ceiling.

You thought about the act Rafe was putting on, and it makes you think back to the hardware store and all the comments about someone named Emma.

Was Rafe really what they made him out to be? Are you just another venture to conquer for him? These thoughts make your mind spin like a whirlpool getting out of control.

————————————————————————

After hours, you can still hear the music from Topper's house, but it’s gotten much quieter. You lay looking at the photos, missing home, your friends, and yours, and Lucas spots everything that reminds you of him.

Then, like a message from heaven, you hear the pit-pat of something hitting your window; you get up and peek out to see at the bottom, Rafe has little rocks from Topper's driveway and is tossing them at your window

When Rafe eventually sees your face appear in the window, he sighs in relief after he did that last sale and bumps with Topper; he had gotten up to go over to you, but you are already gone.

Kelce said he saw you go into the house, so Rafe checked everywhere; he even accidentally walked in on some couple doing it in Topper guest’s bathroom, having to do a slight double take to make sure your cute floral skirt you wore was nowhere in sight lucky for him it was not you.

You open the window, saying with a smile and harshly joking tone, “You’re gonna break my window there, Romeo.” he chuckles, looking at his feet, saying back while looking back to you, “Can I come in?” you shake your head motioning towards the front.

That’s where you meet at the door; you open it, and he can see the darkness casting shadows on your (E/C) eyes; you immediately grab his hand and drag him with soft feet up the stairs; he follows willingly, and you guide him to your room where the window his now closed along with the shades this makes his head tilt, but his head turns to you when he hears your quiet voice say “What was all that about Rafe.”

He stutters for a few seconds, but you stand patiently, waiting for a response before he sighs and says, “It was coke.” your eyes start to get comprehensive, but he rushes to you, taking you in his arms. You stiffen slightly and say, “It’s just a party fix, angel, not a regular thing. Plus, I was selling for a friend tonight.” you start relaxing, but he can feel you shiver slightly.

“Be careful doing that kinda stuff, Rafe; you could get hurt, or what if you get add—“Before you can finish, he cuts you off, taking a finger to your chin and lifting it so he can meet those gorgeous eyes looking back and forth between both of them mapping both of them out and how your face was twisted in worry and care.

Rafe smiles at the look, making a warmth spread throughout him, whispering as he gets closer, “Are you worried about me, angel?” you smile shyly, simply shaking your head, and that’s when Rafe leans down and captures your lips with his.

Slowly, you feel yourself nearly melting backward; you take a step back, dragging him with you, and he feels it too, the way your tiny fists curl into his shirt; he keeps on walking with you slowly, letting you guide him, lips barely breaking contact until, eventually, you make contact with the mattress at the back of your knees. You almost fall, but Rafe grabs your lower back, putting his arm out, gently laying you back, and caging you underneath him.

You both break the kiss, breathing heavily, staring at each other, almost shocked. Then Rafe feels your small hands come up to cup his cheeks, pulling him back down this time, you kissing harsher.

He feels the tip of your tongue brush his lips, and he opens his mouth, taking control and exploring the sweet taste of your mouth; he runs his tongue gently on the underside of yours, coaxing a small moan to ring through Rafe's ears.

You slowly run your hands up from his cheeks to his neck, splaying your fingers through his hair, feeling how each strand slides easily past your fingers.

He’s kissing down your jaw to your neck, hands trailing your sides until one ghosts the side of your breast and moving back down, you quickly grab his wrist, moving it right onto your left breast, putting your hand over his, moving his to grip the fat of your breast this makes Rafe moan and grind his hips down in between your legs setting off a small whimper feeling his hard length pressing your core he hums a gruff “Do you see what you do to me, princess.”

Suddenly, Rafe feels you pushing him back, and he quickly moves, thinking he’s gone too far, when all of a sudden, he’s staring at you, who’s wearing a smirk;

You remove your shirt, tossing it to the side; he eyes your breasts lying on your chest; they look so soft, and as your chest has made contact with the cold air of your room, your nipples perk slightly.

Rafe's eyes trail down, watching how your figure maps out from your chest to your stomach down to the swell of your hips and to your thighs still lying on the bed.

Rafe looks at your smile and your eyes. He then just quickly removes his shirt, dropping to his knees in front of you, kissing your knees up your thighs, whispering, “I didn’t believe there was any way you could get more beautiful, but you’re always proving me wrong, princess” you lean your head back enjoying the feeling of his lips pressing to your skin like a car heater getting warm after driving five minutes in the brisk winter air.

He makes it to the bottom hem of your sleep shorts with his lips looking up at you as his finger hooks into the waistband of the shorts. “Can I?” Saying nothing, you lift your hips, and he quickly tugs away your shorts, revealing your olive green laced bikini-cut panties.

Rafe takes a considerable breath laying his head face down on your thigh; he can feel his cock throbbing painfully below, leaking precum onto his boxers under the shorts he wore. he sighs once more, saying with his head still down, “I’ve wanted you so bad since I saw you, but I don’t want to fuck this up” you guide him to look at you.

“I want you, Rafe,” and with that, Rafe had his fingers hooked in your panties, pulling them down and kissing up and down your knees to your thighs; you sighed, relaxing back, feeling his lips and hands trail you when he hooks his hand under one of your knees; you quickly allow him to pull open legs and he lets out a breath saying

“Holy shit, you’re dripping wet, angel. I haven’t even touched you yet.” You whimper from the cold contact from the air but also his words when, all of a sudden, you can feel his hot breath right next to your core, and then you feel his lips pressing a chaste kiss to your soaking wet bud.

Rafe starts to slowly suck on your clit, one hand coming up to tease your hole, making circles around the opening. This sensation causes you to squirm, making him smirk a moment, saying, “You like it, princess?” you shake your head rapidly, stating, “Yes, yes, please more.” he immediately dives back in, unable to hold back, hearing you plead.

As he goes back in, he slowly slides a digit into your tight hole simultaneously while sucking your clit, feeling you immediately squeezing his finger tightly and pulling him in. he licks strips up and down your clit circling his tongue when he gets to the top.

He hears you making a hissing noise, so he stops moving his finger and looks up immediately, asking, “Does that hurt?” you shake your head, eyes closed, and head back. “so good, Rafe” you let out a pant making Rafe slowly add another finger moving them skillfully in and out of you which makes your back arch off the bed he pulls his head back lips glistening with your wetness “you taste so fucking sweet, but you look even better angel god damn your killing me” the hand that was fingering kept its pace. His other came down to trace the hard length in his shorts.

He kept his pace, looking at you and hand back to gripping any part of your body he could reach. He could feel your slight fluttering around his digits, and then your voice came in a small pant “I need to feel you, Rafe.” he wastes no time removing his fingers from you and reaching his hand to your mouth; you open and gladly swirl your tongue around his fingers, moaning.

Rafe lets out a groan, removing his finger and leaning down, grabbing your chin, kissing you hard, teeth and tongues clashing for dominance.

He feels your small hands tug on his shorts and say, “Please, Rafe,” which makes him chuckle at the whine you let out when you can’t pull them down.

Brushing a hair out of his eyes, he reaches into the waistband, untying his short's drawstring. He cups your cheek with a hand, looking into your eyes, and says, “Are you sure you want this? Cause once I have you, I don’t know if I’ll ever stop wanting you.”

The way you answer him is by tugging his shorts down to his knees and letting them fall the rest of the way to the floor.

Then you fall back on your bed laughing, hands behind your head, body strewn on the messy sheets from your moving around; you are smiling at him like he’s the only thing in the world.

Rafe smiles at you and climbs on top of you, slowly pumping his length; he’s smiling down at you. “You are something you know that right?” you smile, placing a kiss on the apple of his cheek. “says yo—“

Rafe doesn’t let you finish as he slowly presses his length into your opening, making your eyes blow out, and your mouth fall open; he brushes hair from your face, saying softly, “Shh angel, let me make you feel good.”

He moves his hips slightly at first. The feeling of your pussy pulling him in makes him groan and bury his head to your neck, sucking lightly on the skin, moaning at how much he feels you stretch.

You bring your hands to his back, nails dragging down the skin lightly, whispering in his ear, “Rafe.” this makes him rut his hips faster, feeling your legs shaking already, making him groan. “You like that, princess.”

“Yess,” you said breathlessly, gripping the back of his neck till it turned white under the pressure. He groans, feeling the way you tighten around him, and he lifts your leg to get a better angle, the other hand coming down to rub circles on your clit, laying close to hear the little breaths and whimpers you release.

When you connect your lips to his, you can’t help but release a moan at all the tension he seems to be pulling from your body; he smirks but starts to feel his balls tighten and hips stutter.

When he quickly leans back to pound into you, you bring your now free hands to grip and massage the flesh of your bare breasts. He moans, saying, “You’re gonna be the death of me, Angel.” his unsteady thrusts go faster. “God, you are so sexy.”

The pace he’s set has you whimpering and moaning loudly until you are nearly lifting your hips. He has to push you back into the bed. He's pressing so hard you know it will be bruised tomorrow.

At one point, he seems to brush the spot deep in you, sending a moan tumbling from your mouth with the words, “Gonna cum, Raf—“ but right as you are about to say it, your whining and cumming all over his dick.

The feeling of your pussy fluttering and pulsating on his cock makes him thrust one last time, letting out a throaty “Fuck yes, baby,” releasing his seed deep in you falling to hold himself over you catching his breath and leaving chaste kisses to your jaw, neck, and cheek.

He pulls out of you, and you can feel his cum leaking down your legs; he quickly walks to your en-suite bathroom, grabs a towel, and gets one side damp, walking back and cleaning you up, whispering sweet nothings about how your body is a dream and how beautiful you look even in the darkness.

Eventually, after you both clean, you crawl under your comforter, lifting it to him, who’s still standing on the side of your bed; he tosses the towel toward your laundry hamper, lifting the blanket and putting one arm under your head, you immediately curl into his chest.

You nuzzle your head, feeling his warmth and woody citrusy scent and rhythmic heartbeat. Rafe lays his other arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer, feeling your even breaths and smelling the ocean breeze and coconut scent. Both of you falling into a comfortable sleep feeling warm and content.

————————————————————————

The following day, you woke to the side Rafe occupied the night before, empty but still slightly warm; you blinked the sleep from your eyes a few times to see a sticky note on your vanity mirror; you hopped out of your bed, pulling it off, reading.

Angel Girl,

Leaving you in bed like this is nearly killing me, but Topper made me promise to golf with him. Meet at the Marina later. I’ll take you out. Thank you for last night, Angel. You are a dream.

- Reef ❤️

You smile, reading it, and hear a knock and your dad call through the door. “You decent?” you call back to him, hurrying for clothes. “one sec,” throwing on shorts and an old school shirt from last night and kicking your panties under your bed. “Come in.”

Your dad walks in smiling, carrying what seems to be some folder. “Hey, peanut, you don’t look ready.” you tilt your head questioningly, and he chuckles. “Remember we’re meeting Mr. Orien for golf; he wants to talk the deal over a game.” your eyes widen, and you shake your head, running off to the closet. “Yeah, sorry, slept badly. Be down in five.” your dad nods his head, leaving the room, saying, “Don’t rush too much. You’ll give yourself a heart attack,” and closes your door.

Then, 15 minutes later, you were in the car with your dad on your way to the Island Club for the business meeting; when you got there, you spotted Topper's truck, but you knew it was unlikely for you to see Rafe till later

Nearly half an hour later, in the middle of you and your dad golfing, you are on the third hole, and you tell your dad you want to walk to the main clubhouse and grab a soda; he shakes his head, knowing you weren’t the biggest fan of golfing.

On your walk back, you are thinking about Rafe and how you hadn’t felt like you did last night in a long time. It has been a year since kissing someone, still holding out for Luca. Something was different about Rafe; he reminds you of Luca so much in so many ways but is so mysterious in others.

You’re broken from your stupor when there is commotion by some voices ahead of you; suddenly, you hear a distinguishing voice: “Hey, Rafe, Calm Down, man.” Then clear as day, you heard him scream, “Stay down bitch” You walk as quick as you can toward their voices coming into view; you watch as Rafe slams a golf club right next to the ground by someone who looks familiar.

You stand watching him as he yells at the boy on the ground; your heart shatters watching the man who was so gentle with you the night before going as far as to leave you a note to wake up to hurting someone and being so vulgar. You watch him crouch over the boy, and Topper turns to see you, making you hurry into the bush so that he can’t catch you.

Rafe finally diffused slightly but still taunted the boy, Tooper looking back to where you were standing, eyes trailing to you, giving you a look of pity and fear. Your back goes straight against the tree as you hear them running off, and you round the corner to see the boy rolling on the ground, trying to get back up.

You rush, and as you get closer, you see Pope nearly tripping over the sand, and you drop on your knees next to him, hands ghosting over his body, saying, “Oh my god, oh my god, are you okay? I’m so sorry. What can I do ?”

He groans and says, “It’s not your fault, but help up would be much appreciated.” you stick your hand out and pull him up and help lightly brush the sand from his body

You look down and help pick up what he had. Pope is still standing. “I’m sorry, Pope, I can’t believe the—“ he grabs the things in your hand, turning while saying, “Just go (F/N); you don’t need to be seen with a Pouge.” he turns, walking. “Pope—wait.” you try and catch up to him. He is gone before you can even try to say anything else.

Hanging your head, you go back to your dad; when you reach him, he sees the look on your face, and when you sit in the golf cart, not moving or talking, he walks up asking.

“What’s up, Peanut?” you shake your head, eyes scanning the grass for the boy you saw who you thought you had all wrong.

Your mind is racing a million miles thinking about last night and how you felt so connected with him, and then seeing how he treated Pope shocked you. It made you second guess everything you thought.

Maybe Rafe was precisely the person they said. Perhaps you’d be another girl on the notch of his belt. Then you think of the note and the boneyard incident. You were broken in your thought when Dad nudged you, letting you know it was time to return the cart and go home.

————————————————————————

As your dad drove you home, you laid your head against the window, listening to the music he let you put on, ‘Logical’ by Olivia Rodrigo, playing slowly as you watched the leaves creating patterns from sunlight casting through the windows and on the ground.

You could see slightly past a line of trees, all the people at the beach, the sun shining down. All of them are smiling, and all you can do is trace your finger along the window's glass back and forth, trying to keep yourself from thinking nothing stopped the tidal waves of things hitting you from all sides.

You thought about everything with Rafe and how everything around him felt genuine and solid. You could tell Rafe was dangerous when you met him but not aggressive, and these thoughts scare you. There are so many complex parts of him, but to see him letting out his rage on someone who you know didn’t deserve it any sense not like that.

Then you think about your night together, how he touched and held you all night. He was so gentle; this wasn’t your Rafe, not the one you know at least, and you don’t understand why things with you are different.

As the chorus plays, you sing along, head resting now on the window, looking forward just staring off, ‘If rain don’t pour, and sun don’t shine, then changing you is possible. No, love is never logical.’

Your dad's eyes had been flicking from the road to you when he finally spoke up, watching you wince, making him break. “Honey, you know you can talk to Dad, right? Does this have to do with that Rafe boy?” you wince again. He gives you a sad look, pulling to a parking lot that looks out at the beach, leaving the car on but turning to grab your hands, making you look at him.

The second you make contact with your dad's soft brown eyes, your entire heart drops, and you sob, falling into your dad's arms. “I’m so stupid, Dad. I don’t know why I keep making these choices.” He holds you in his arms, running his hand down the back of your head.

“Honey, does this have anything to do with me seeing Rafe and Topper pretty disheveled leaving the sandbar walkway?” you shake your head, looking up at him. “It’s so much more. I am so confused.” he puts his hand on your cheek, brushing tears away. “My sweet, beautiful girl, if he knows how much you are worth like I do, which I think he does, he’ll show you it.” you shake your head. “That’s just it, Dad; he does; he’s perfect with me; it's not exactly that, but there is a whole other side he hides from me. I don’t know,” you finish looking down, shaking your head.

Your dad chuckles, which makes your head whip up “(F/N); sometimes people are afraid if you see a certain part of them, it will make you run; maybe he just doesn’t want what the people of this island say about him to shape who he truly is; he’s just a boy who’s learning let him come to you sweetheart he will I’m sure and whatever he’s done, be calm, don’t lie, tell him what you know and ask him; let him explain see his reason sometimes you don’t always fully know what’s happening within someone or around them” your dad wipes the rest of your tears and turning back to drive you home.

———————————————————————-

When you get home, you lay in bed with Rafe's note lying next to you on your bed right next to the ring Luca had given you; stare at both and think, what would Luca say and think? Would he hate you for your choices? You think about Jason, who’s always given you the best advice, feeling he’s so far; now this isn’t something you can get help with over the phone; you think about Pope and if he’s okay, hoping he is.

You think of Rafe.

————————————————————————

Across the island, in his room, he is getting ready to meet you at Marina and take you out. Finally, he wants to sit down and talk and know more about you; he puts on one of his nice button-downs and jeans and grabs his phone while running a hand through his hair, setting his phone on the counter as he clicks the call button.

My Angel ❤️

As the phone rings, Rafe brushes his teeth; it keeps ringing as he washes his mouth out until, finally, the call goes to voice mail. Rafe sets down his toothbrush and shoots you a text

Rafe🪸: Hey Angel girl, I’m about ready; when do you want to meet?

Rafe waited for nearly an hour before he got a response back from you that had him stirring with anxiety

My Angel ❤️: Not feeling well. Raincheck?

You’d never sent him such a short response; this immediately had him Facetiming you; this time, you answered, and you were in your bed; he smiled when he saw your face.

That all changed when he saw; it looked like you’d been crying, making him say, “Hey, sweet girl, what’s happening? Are you okay?” you stare at him, almost looking shocked that he asked, then you shake your head like you’re snapping yourself out something making Rafe frown and tilt his head. After you just stared at him, he quietly said, “Baby girl.”

This made you snap out of the wait, and finally, you said, “I’ve just been getting sick today. My stomach is killing me, and I think I should stay home.” Rafe looks at you worried, and you shake your head, starting to say, “I’ll be fin—“

Before you can finish, he says, “I’ll be there in 20 minutes; hang tight.” you were trying to say, “Rafe, no, wait—, “ but he was already off the phone, and you went to text him that he didn’t need to come that you just needed to rest and sleep only to see a message.

Rafe 🪸: Don’t even try to say no, Angel. I said I’d be there, so I will see you in 20 minutes, stopping by the store. See you soon

📍location shared

You stared at your phone for so long, knowing what you saw happen to Pope was uncalled for and unnecessary, but the feeling you have for him is something you can’t help; he already fills many voids you think have been gaping in you for so long.

You are lying on your bed holding the note from this morning to your chest, phone in the other hand, staring at the bit of the horizon; you can see bits of orange cast glow over the houses and grass. You don’t even notice until after you've sent it.

My Angel❤️: Okay, thanks, Reef; see you soon 🪸❤️

You hope you’re not setting yourself up for something you know will end in tragedy. Then you think of what Dad told you, ask him, be calm, let him explain. As you lay in your bed, that’s what you'll wait to do.

All rights belong to the owners of Netflix and the Outer Banks. I do not own any characters except OC characters. The fiction is simply for fun. All copyrights belong to the original owners.

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precious-little-scoundrel · 4 months

Note

From Sarge’s kids I think I’m (as of now) excited to learn more about Daisy. She’s got a lot of Elvis in her and she witnesses Elaine go to hell and back to help him beat his addiction and although she’s independent I hope there’s gonna be someone who will be able to do the same for her or stand by her. Not to mention she’s got a twin who they come off as polar opposites (what with Rosalee being a huge Daddy’s girl) and her comments towards her older sister Ella’s marriage - I get the feeling there’s a lot to unpack there.

I think sometimes Elvis felt like he was too much to love and I see a lot of his personal insecurities in Daisy, she even is a popstar like him and that’s a lot of people loving you with maybe them feeling like they aren’t really known for who they are deep down.

I am so happy to hear this, I’ve got a little started on each kid’s own fic (I want one for each like I had for Jesse, just to establish them and then let loose with the intermingling) and I really think hers is compelling. It’s been truly a blast to get to know her and I’ve gotta be honest she may be the most Lisa-like of any Sarge kid in many ways, partly because she’s so Elvis incarnate. It took awhile but me and my scheming buddies have cooked up a good partner for her and she will always have her family as backup and even her godfather Marlon. I think she will, as you said, be publicly adored but can be rather offputting one on one, even though she desperately needs connection. I think eventually, and not after too long, all these relationships get far better, and Daisy finds her little nook in the family easily. She is the one to go to for the zero bullshit takes or help hiding a body. Loyal and fierce that one.

And here, since you made my day asking about her, have a little random snippet I’ve written about her first big debut recording which came from her rehab scribbles and, unfortunately for the family members her lyrics feature -becomes a sensation.

Era: 1978-9ish??

Warnings: moderate…mentions of past divorce, infidelity, a daughter sorta writing a hit tell all? remincence of a one off threesome and Elvis having straight man panic for it (I’m afraid this couple is polyamorous central I’m the 60’s but nothing explicit) big ole family chat with the grown kids, chaos as can be expected…

What about Wendy?

“Daisy Mae!” Elvis bellows her full name because the crime warrants it, and from behind him, her voice answers, not in person from her place sprawled on the couch but behind him, coming through the stereo in a clear cadence that his creative side must acknowledge is skilled and evocative. What Elvis doesn't find so praiseworthy is his Dear Daughter hanging the family laundry out for all to see with lyrics like:

—“So I'll lock the window and turn on the AC, You'll throw your rocks, and you'll scream that you hate me, But it gets old being forever 20, And what about my wings? What about Wendy?”—

out on a clothesline for all the world to commentate on his failings and his marriage.

The music video coming out tomorrow on MTV, teased as featuring a fresh faced Daisy in a montage of her mother’s most iconic looks -including that secretive wedding gown so few of the nation ever saw, rather hammers home the not so subtle point. As far as Elvis is concerned this is about as disloyal as it gets.

And he is having none of it.

“It’s art, Daddy.” Daisy murmurs, utterly unphased by the hurricane of wrath she can match once she gets that cup of coffee Rosalee is making her.

“Is this how you see us?” Elvis demands and Jesse winces to the side, things had been going so smoothly after Danny was born but lord, the Presley’s just can’t manage to be calm for long, Daisy had to record that stupid black book she scribbled in during rehab and, my does it have some choice takes on the events of the last decade. “This how you see your childhood?” Elvus goes on, “Where we loved ya like no one’s ever loved any kids and gave ya everythin’ and-“

“-and slammed a buncha doors in between.“ Daisy shrugs, not meaning to be cruel, but it’s the truth and she’s never had her sibling’s affinity for the affection that the rest of the kids take as blood money for the insanity they got put through. Daisy doesn't hold a grudge against anyone for her childhood, in fact, she’s thankful for the writing material. But she’s not gonna be sorry for writing shit as it was.

Which was mama playing a haggard Wendy while Daddy flitted in and out of the window at whim like Peter Pan.

“Girl,” her daddy begs her to understand as he takes his seat next to her on the sofa, big ringed hand familiar and pleading on her bony knee, as if somehow this appeal of his will lock the song back into her diary and out of the radio -or maybe he doesn’t care about his reputation anymore, he’s gotten lax about that after the divorce, maybe he really is seeking after his child’s good opinion this time when he continues, “I’m all for art’n’shit but have I not taught ya nothin’ bout-“

“Daddy, ya didn’t even write your own songs.” Daisy gently tries to get him to see the difference in their art but Jesse gasps out in horror:

“Daisy!!” like she just shot their father instead of stating the truth. Which is kinda her problem with her family, they can’t take straight facts.

“Alright, alright then,” Elvis simmers a bit but his tone is restrained as he presses his point, “so ya write from the heart and ya wrote about life, I get ya. So then why’d you call mama Wendy when, w-w-when she’s -she’s my Tinkerbell?”

“You’d rather I used your pet little name in public?” Daisy scoffs at his muddled logic and feels bad for the first time after -soon as his brow furrows in genuine hurt. Daddy loves mama, he loves her again like a new man and Daisy doesn’t get how that works but it’s the truth and she’s got no fight to pick with the truth. It makes her admit with a shrug, “I used it ‘cause Marlon always says she’s Wendy.”

You could hear a pin drop the way everyone’s chatter in the living room stops, even the coffee maker stops spluttering in the distance and it’s highly likely Jesse isn’t even breathing as everyone’s head’s swivel, Daddy’s slower but more intent than any, to look at Elaine where’s she sits in the white arm chair, blanket cast over her where Danny fell asleep while nursing. She’s as white as the rocker she sits in.

“Oh does he now?” Elvis rumbles and Daisy feels the unintentional bite of his nails on her knee.

“Well yeah, he does and -always has.” Daisy insists as if the past and present existence of Brando’s opinions on Elvis’ wife makes shit any better, Daisy knows it the second she lets it out that it’s not exactly balm on the scab.

Her voice doesn't make anyone look away from mama and her perfect, frozen face, carefully neutral and soothingly disinterested in the topic.

“That man has only ever called me, Elaine.” mama laughs an airy, dismissive little thing and the bite of Daddy’s rings on Daisy’s knee loosens their grip. “And if he thinks i'm a Wendy -he should say it to my face.” she jokes and Jesse predictably lets out a pained laugh of solidarity.

“-A-a-and w-who the hell did ya get to sew all those recreated outfits, girl?” Daddy is suddenly back on the original topic with a burst of renewed incredulity at her gall and Daisy knows she can use this to her advantage, get him arguing about fashion, tailors and supporting local folks instead of berating her for her lyrics and-

-Ella watches as Elaine’s stiff face smoothes into relief and she lays her head back against the rocker’s cushion and closes her eyes against the hubbub that’s no longer pertinent to her. Not for the first time Ella wonders if mama is as burdened as she is with thoughts and feelings married women shouldn’t have, they really shouldn’t. Marriage should cure a woman of them but Ella had them all alone on the ranch with her husband gone and Mama had Marlon and his lingering looks and her frozen face whenever his name gets mentioned and mama who is staring up at the ceiling like she’s no longer in the room with them at all.

“Peter Pan, Peter Pan, little lost boy actin’ like a big man,” only Marlon could have made that rhyme sound like anything but a goad, only Marlon really saw what Elaine saw when Elvis was sated, pliable, sweet as a newborn and pretty a sin. “Those producers who’ve got him playin’ tough n’ shit don’t know his appeal, they just don’t get it. Goddamn Peter Pan.”

And he had run his fingers over Elvis’ face, catching his drooping eyelids and pulling them down and over his nose to those cherub lips. And Elvis’ eyes hadn’t opened again till next morning when he woke in angry panic.

Elaine stares at the ceiling and feels Danny shift against her breast, snuggling closer, and she wonders if Elvis ever recalls that night like she does. Ever replays it a million times.

Wendy, Wendy Wendy.

Marlon thinks she’s Wendy, Marlon’s told her own daughter that. But never her. No. He’d just raked his hand through the wrecked coiff of Elvis’ gelled hair and admiringly called him Peter Pan. And Elvis, being Elvis in the state of freshly loved and freshly praised, never balked at it before drifting to sleep in their muggy tent.

Wendy, Wendy, Wendy, he never called Elaine that to her face.

Elaine catches Daisy’s eye next time she looks away from the ceiling, an odd moment of recognition. Funny how each child knows a part of her, but it’s the inner workings of Daisy’s curious, generous, honest self -a heart so very like Elvis’ own- that can look back at Elaine and smile at her, while knowing her fully, faults and all. It’s not so bad having grown daughters as a friend, Elaine decides as she watches Elvis flail backwards against the couch to laugh at his daughter's good natured dig at his unmodified wardrobe.

It’s good not to be his only Wendy keeping him young anymore.

Song based on: Wendy by Maisie Peters

Tags:

@powerofelvis

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————————-

@mydarlingelvis

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#elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #sarge update #sarge & lil mama #Elvis Au #Elvis #elvis the king #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis presley fan fic #elvis presley fanfiction

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doudouneverte · 6 months

Note

Love your fics and would you do one for Laura feirsinger something fluffy. ( Only if you write for her)

a/n: i wanted to write something for Feiersinger for a while so I'm more than happy with that request

"Say it"

Pairing: Laura Feiersinger x AUSTRIAWNT!Reader

Summary: you just want to hear two words

Type: Fluff

Warning: nothing

word count: 1893

translation: Ich liebe dich/Je t'aime/Ti amo = I love you

-------

You and Laura knew each other from as far as you can remember. First, you played together at Bayern Munich before she left for Sand, and you left to play two seasons for Lyon before coming back to Munich. Your relationship had always been special; you were practically a couple even before she asked you out formally. But it was only a few months before her big move to Frankfurt that she found the courage to do it.

Since then, a lot of things have happened. You joined her in her new club and had to leave your commun best friend, Sarah Zadrazil, behind. And more importantly, you were officially engaged. But unfortunately, your fiancé signed a new contract with AS Roma in Italy, which meant you would spend almost the whole season missing her.

Fortunately for both of you, you were playing for the same national team, and with the new National League came a new national camp. And that was where you were today. The girls just arrived at the hotel when you were already looking for your fiancé. Since her transfer, there was something she never told you, and you needed to hear it now.

As expected by all your teammates, when you and Laura spotted each other, you didn't leave each other. It was not a secret to everyone how close you were, and some of them were used to making fun of it at first, but now it has become something usual.

"Where is Laura?" Barbara asked when she spotted a group of girls talking in Manu's room.

"With Y/n. Like always." The goalie replied.

"Why do I feel stupid to ask that?" The midfielder asked before walking to your room. She was about to knock, but she stopped when she heard something unusual.

"Oh, come on, babe, I know you can say it. It's been like, what? Six weeks since you started to train with them, I'm sure you can tell me now." You said while you were unpacking your stuff.

"We already talked about it, Y/n. I don't know if I'm ready for that." She replied.

"Bullshit." You said before throwing yourself on the bed and dragging the Roma's player with you. "We both know that I'll find it." You said before gently kissing her.

"Yeah, but let me time to prepare myself before."

"Okay, no pressure." You engulfed your body in her tiny ones, sharing as much warmth as you could. "I missed you." You confessed.

"And I missed you too. Now come on, let's get ready, or the girls will start to worry." She instructed you.

"Okay, but just five more minutes." Even if she knew she had to complain, she couldn't when she saw you so vulnerable.

On the other side of the door, your Frankfurt teammate was already not here. The midfielder rushed to her previous destination a few seconds earlier.

"Girls, I think we have a problem." She said bursting the door open.

"Don't you know how to know on a door?" Sarah Puntigam said after everyone was thrilled by the midfielder's antics.

"Sorry, not sorry, but we have a bigger problem than a fucking door." Barbara said.

"Don't swear in front of the kids." Sarah Z said covering Katharina's ears what made everyone laugh.

"Sorry, but yeah, I was saying that I think Laura and Y/n are breaking up." The new froze everyone and everything in the room for a few seconds.

"WHAT?" All the players yelled.

"Shh, keep it low." Barbara instructed them.

"How do you want us to keep it low when you announce something like that?" Sarah P said, gaining a nod from all her teammates. "And how did you get that information?"

"I may have or haven't heard their conversation when I was going to

see Laura." She explained.

"WHAT?" Everyone yelled again.

"You know how much Y/n hate when someone tries to invade her privacy, and it's even worse when it involves her and Laura." Manu reminded her.

"I know, but it's not like I wanted to listen on purpose. I will apologize later. Now can we talk about the main subject?"

"Oh, what are you talking about? I want to be in." You said, appearing behind your teammate. The room froze for a moment. You felt all eyes on you and started to feel a little confused. "Uh, are we interrupting something?" You asked.

"Nothing; we were just wondering where you were, right, girls?" Sarah P said trying to convince you and your fiancé. When you heard all the girls agreeing, you found it suspicious, but you were not going to question it, at least not now.

"Anyway, coach wants us in the meeting room in five minutes." Laura said, and after that, you both left to the room mentioned.

"I don't know about you, but they didn't seem to be near to break up for me." Kat said.

"I totally agree with you, but maybe they don't want to make us worry." Barbara proposed.

"Maybe, but right now the coach wants to see us, so let's go." Sarah Z said before leaving the room, quickly followed by the rest of the team.

In the room, the girls were a little shocked to see an empty seat between yours and Laura's. Even if they didn't question it, some glances were not discreet, and some whispers could be heard. The Bayern midfielder took her seat between the two of you while Barbara could finally talk with your fiancé.

At the end of the meeting, you were one of the first to leave the room. But you were quickly stopped by your ex-teammate.

"Hey, are you okay?" Sarah asked you.

"Uhh...yeah." You replied.

"Where are you going?"

You paused a little. "Restroom."

"Oh, okay, sorry. I'll not restrain you more." She said a little nervous, making you chuckle.

"Yep, I'll be back soon; don't worry." With that, you just walked away.

What should have been a little weird thing for your teammates became something more when the next day Laura decided to train with her best friend letting you with Kathy. You both didn't notice, but a lot of confused looks were exchanged between the entire team.

At the end of the training the Roma's player was leaving with her best friend when she heard you calling her name. She quickly glanced at you before quickly running away from you, forcing you to chase her.

"Okay, that's weird." Sarah P started.

"The most weird thing was that they were both smiling." Manu continued.

"Maybe Barbara was right." Viktoria finished.

"No, that's impossible. We all know how much they love each other; they can't just break up and keep the facade in front of us. We need to start an investigation." Sarah Z proposed, and everybody agreed.

A few hours later, you were watching a movie with all the team in your room. There was a good atmosphere, and everybody was enjoying the moment until your phone buzzed. You excused yourself and left the room to answer. In less than five minutes, you were back in the room and found your spot next to the tiny midfielder.

"Who was that?" Laura asked you quietly to not bother everyone.

"Oh, it was just Laura who wanted my advice for something." You replied, and your fiancé just nodded before she placed her head against your shoulder.

The next morning, the girls were planning a real plan to do everything they could to not let their favorite couple break apart when they heard someone run to them.

"Girls, please help me." Laura begged with an amused expression. The team didn't have time to process everything until you reached them.

"Okay, you know what? Let's do that in another way." You took a moment to think before you started again. "Okay, in English."

The entire team was looking at both of you very confusedly.

"Okay. 3...2...1... I love you!" You both said at the same time. The girls were more confused, but you didn't give them time to question anything before you started again. "Now, in Deutsch. 3...2...1... Ich liebe dich." You said again at the same time.

"What's happening here?" Barbara asked.

"Just a minute. Let me finish that." You return your focus to the tiny midfielder. "Now... Je t'aime." You saw her blush, which made you grin. "And?" There was a little silence; all the attention was now on Laura.

"Ti amo." She mumbled, but your face showed her that you didn't understand. She took a breath and focused her gaze on yours: "Ti. Amo. Is this okay now?"

Instead of replying, you hugged her and crashed your lips against hers. "More than okay." You said with the biggest smile you could ever put on your face right now.

"Okay, what's happening now? I thought you were about to break up. Why are you so lovey-dovey right now?" Manu asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked, very surprised by her sentence.

"I heard you two talk the first day of the camp, and I thought that you were about to break up because she didn't want to do something or something like that." Barbara confessed.

"First, Barbara, you know that Y/n doesn't when you spy on her. Second, we never thought about breaking up; why could you ever think about it?" Laura explained.

"Wow, now we look stupid." Viktoria said.

"For your information, you always look stupid, like all of you." You said, making your fiancé laugh. "Except for Laura and Sarah Z, of course." You added.

"Okay, that's rude." Your captain said, "But can you explain what just happened?" Laura hid her face in your torso out of shame after remembering why you were both here.

"Oh, it's actually a funny story." You started. "You know that we have known each other since as far as I can remember. But we didn't always play together, so since I came back to Germany after my little trip to France, we decided to establish a rule in our relationship. Every time one of us has to play in another country, they have to learn the local language to say, I love you in this language." You explained.

"Why does that sound cute and dumb at the same time?" Viktoria whispered to your captain.

"Because it is, but she was the one who proposed that, and I can't refuse her anything, so here we are now." Laura defended you.

"But what does this have to do with your behavior from the start of the camp?" The Bayern Sarah asked.

"That's because she didn't want to say it. So I had to chase her everywhere to convince her to say it." You explained.

"I can't wait for the wedding. I would be personally offended if Y/n don't do something dumb like this on D-day. Manu said.

When the girls started to ask more questions, the coach called you for training. On your way to the pitch, you had your fingers intertwined with Laura's when she suddenly stopped making you look at her.

Fortunately for you, you didn't have to say anything because she didn't give you time to react before she kissed you. "Ti amo." She said before letting your hand go and running on the pitch.

"Wait, can we get married like today?" You asked while you ran after her.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #laura feiersinger #laura feiersinger x reader #austriawnt #austriawnt x reader #sarah zadrazil #sarah zadrazil x reader

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cluzi · 9 months

Text

I became a Roman Roy girl the very moment he realized he accidentally sent his father a dick pic.

Like, you know Kieran's face in that moment right? I think I paused it and stood there with utter disbelief and amusement and a remote distress for this absolute mess of a man who thought he had, just seconds before, finally earned his father's approval. That's where I thought idc I only root for this desperate dipshit from now on. And I felt so proud when he chose his sibilings over his father and tried to bring love into the conversation. It was a brave and eye-opening moment for him that afterwards led to the last voicemail and further on to the we're bullshit truth.

The whole season four felt like realizing we were collectively losing such a masterpiece forever and it took me a little bit to get over it when it ended. Like, you know the Will&Grace episode when Jack and Karen mourn over some TV show ending forever? Girl. SAME. That's why I'm still talking about it after months. There is still so much to unpack, and I think I particularly owe Roman for being the reason I started writing (and reading) FF again after years.

Writers are SO important in this dull world. It really really saddens me the way the industry treat them. Not even in a thousand years could I empathize with a man like Roman Roy in real life, yet it happened and happened again and I still wonder why. Why didn't I empathize with Shiv or Kendall's struggles, instead?

So that's what I understood, so far.

They were both driven by Logan's obsession with winning. One was promised the throne, the other was excluded from getting it. They were respectively all about I need to get what's mine by right and I need to prove I deserve it too. And then there was Roman, desperately longing for love to turn him into a man, like some Pinocchio bullshit. It's a bit hilarious, actually, but it made completely sense to me. That's why he was the only one getting physically and mentally out of it. And one may think it happened during the last fight, but I think he was out of there right after the funeral. What was his whole point, without Logan? In a sense, I find him a more tragic character than Shiv and Kendall: he's after something far more simple than glory and yet far more difficult. But the three of them together, rather than apart (I'm not forgetting Connor, he's the one actually winning at the end of the day), convey more than I can say. I understand their struggle more, if I see them as one.

I understand the eldest child struggle with being someone to be looked up to, I understand what it means to be the only daughter and I understand wanting nothing else but love. Three as one.

I guess what I'm trying to say is I'm grateful to Succession for giving me new words to understand myself as a daughter and sister, more.

And that they need to pay the fucking writers!!

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leiawritesstories · 8 months

Text

Stick Season (Part 2)

masterlist

Rowaelin Month, Day 7: Vacation/Outdoors

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: bickering cousins, couple of swear words, one healthy serving of angst

Enjoy! (?)

@rowaelinscourt

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Present

The Whitethorn horde blew into Doranelle, Vermont, like a Category 4 blizzard, albeit a very welcome one. Rowan felt like he’d barely woken up and downed his first cup of coffee before there was a rigorous pounding on his front door and he looked out the kitchen window to find an entire caravan of silver vehicles filling his front yard as if it was a parking lot.

“We know you’re home, Ro-Ro!” Sellene yelled from the porch. “You can’t hide from Christmas forever, and besides, you invited us!”

“Calm down, LeLe,” Rowan drawled, opening the door to a flock of bright green eyes, blonde hair, and layers of winter clothing. “Nobody said you had to show up at eight in the bloody morning.”

“It’s ten-thirty,” she retorted.

“Same difference.” He easily lifted the two large suitcases she was rolling and headed for the guest rooms. “It’s too early.”

“You never were a morning person.” She flicked on the bedroom lights. “Just leave them by the window.”

He put the suitcases down and made a quick stop to pull on his jacket before heading out to the neatly parked rows of cars, where he found his closest (in age) cousin struggling to maneuver luggage out of his SUV. “The dealerships called, Enda. They’re out of silver paint.”

“What can I say?” Endymion Whitethorn shrugged, far too charming for his own good. “We’ve always liked our family colors.”

“Doesn’t mean we have to drive around in matching cars like some kind of hippie mission church,” Rowan deadpanned.

Enda snorted with laughter. “Gods, I’ve missed you.” He pulled Rowan into a brief, tight hug. “How are you? How’s the property? How’s…everything?”

“Property’s fine, I’m too damn tired for this chaos, and everything is fine.”

“I’m sure it is.” The dryness of Enda’s voice rivaled the Sahara Desert.

“Don’t get any romantic ideas,” Rowan warned, only half teasing. Last Christmas, he’d lost a bet to Enda, who’d then set him up on a spectacularly awful date with a shrewish woman named Remelle– “but you can call me Remy”–an event that soured his memory every time he recalled that evening.

“I would never,” Enda said, drawing out the never into a long, supposedly innocent singsong.

Rowan rolled his eyes. “And I’m the Queen of England.” He snickered at the outraged expression on his cousin’s face and picked up a duffle bag and a couple of crates full of brightly wrapped gifts. “Your car won’t unload itself, you know.”

“Remind me why I put up with this bullshit,” Enda grumbled.

Passing by just in time to hear the curse word, Sellene swatted Enda upside the head. “There are children present!”

“Oh please, your kids were swearing before they spoke full sentences.”

She huffed. “And it’s no wonder, considering that their uncles have such foul mouths.” Fondly, she rolled her eyes at Enda, who was still hopelessly attempting to maneuver one suitcase out from the bottom of the luggage piled in the trunk. “You’ll get unpacked a lot faster if you don’t try to play Suitcase Jenga. Here, let me.”

He grumbled something about her being interfering but stepped aside and let her expertly dismantle the pile of suitcases. “Thanks, Sel.”

“You’re welcome.” She blew him an air kiss. “How two men and a puppy manage to have more crap packed in their car than me and my whole family, I’ll never understand.”

“That’s because my husband and I care about looking our best, thank you very much.” Enda flipped his shoulder-length hair, picked up a few of his bags, and sauntered off towards the house.

“Would it be rude of me to say ‘yes, queen?’” Rowan murmured into Sellene’s ear.

She burst into shaking, wheezing laughter. “Oh gods,” she gasped. “I think I peed myself a little.” She smacked his shoulder, though between her winter gloves and his thick parka, it didn’t do much damage. “You’d better let that sense of humor loose at least a few times, Ro-Ro, or we’ll be forced to believe you aren’t actually human.”

“Piss off,” he grumbled, but he was laughing. “I’m glad you’re here, Sel.”

“I’m glad you let the horde of heathens come to your place again after what happened last year,” she quipped. “I thought for sure we’d be banished to Ellys’s place for Christmas vacation.”

“Ellys can barely host a birthday party, let alone multiple nights with the whole Whitethorn family. It’s better if everyone crashes here; there’s more space.”

“Plus we can always pitch tents in the yard.”

“This is true.” He winked. “I think we should make that the punishment for the loudest ones.”

“Deal.” Sellene bumped her gloved fist into his. “Fifty bucks says it’ll be Fenrys and whoever he brings home for the holidays.”

“Why do I let him come to my house?” Rowan sighed.

“Tradition,” both he and his cousin chorused.

Sellene snickered. “Alright, I’m going to go control my wild children.”

“Too late,” Rowan called. “They’ve already found the hot cocoa.”

“Thank you for visiting Orynth Shelves! Happy holidays!” Aelin waved cheerfully to the most recent customer, turned back to the mercifully empty desk, and exhaled a deep sigh of relief. The day had been absolutely insane, packed full of holiday shoppers ranging from sweet elderly ladies to rambunctious kids who tried to climb the bookshelves and tracked wet slush everywhere. She had just turned around to steal two minutes of peace and quiet when the bells on the front door jingled and she had to turn back around, paint her customer service smile on her face, and– “Sellene?”

“Aelin?” Sellene Whitethorn looked just as shocked as Aelin felt.

“In the flesh.” Aelin shrugged. “Here I am, back in my hometown. Crazy, right?”

“It’s…unexpected,” Sellene admitted. “But damn, it’s so good to see you again, Aelin.”

Aelin rounded the desk and accepted Sellene’s brief hug. “It’s great to see you too. Are you looking for something in particular, or just browsing?”

“Hmm, I think I’ll just browse.” Sellene grinned. “You never know what you’ll find during the holidays, right?”

“Right.” Aelin gestured towards the shelves. “Happy hunting! If you’re interested, though, there’s a special winter section in the feature corner, and I’ve stocked it with as many cute little holiday romances as I could find.” She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Say no more!” Sellene hurried off towards the seasonal display.

Aelin laughed to herself and returned to the desk. Even after a number of years, she still remembered how much Sellene Whitethorn adored holiday romances. It had been one of their shared interests when they’d first met–way back in high school–and she could recall the exact expression on Sellene’s face when she realized how many books (and book boyfriends) they had in common.

One Christmas, Sellene had even taken Rowan (her “hopelessly clueless cousin”) to the bookstore to buy Aelin’s present. With her guidance, Rowan had bought Aelin a complete set of her favorite small-town romance series and written sweet little messages in each book’s cover.

Aelin still had those books. They lived in an unlabeled tote in her spare room.

She shook away the ache of that memory, pushing it back into the deep recesses of her mind where it belonged, and grinned as Sellene walked up to the register with a small stack of books in her arms.

“I was expecting more than that,” she teased as she rang up the books.

Sellene laughed. “Well, I’m on a budget–”

“Bullshit, it’s Christmas.”

“Fair enough. I’m on a book-buying budget, and I can’t exactly gift these to anyone in my family.” With a suggestive smirk, she passed Aelin one of the books.

Screwing Mr. Scrooge, proclaimed the title.

Aelin snorted with laughter. “Yeah, maybe don’t make that someone’s present.”

“I’m only buying it because my husband and I–”

“And that’s where you can stop,” Aelin interrupted, pretending to gag and swatting Sellene playfully with the book. “My gods, Sellene!”

Sellene giggled. “Alright, I’ll spare you the details.” She winked as she took out her credit card and tapped it to the card reader. “You’re in publishing, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you definitely know what happens when readers who have a significant other find a spicy scene they like.”

“Doesn’t mean I need to have firsthand knowledge,” Aelin teased. “There you go, Sellene. Enjoy the rest of your vacation!”

“Thanks!” Sellene zipped up her thick parka jacket. Almost at the front door, she paused and turned back to Aelin. “Hey, I had a thought.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I don’t want you to be here alone, least of all during Christmas–”

“Oh, don’t worry about me.” Aelin waved off the protest. “I’m with Dad, and Aedion’s here too. I’m not going to be alone on Christmas.”

“Still, the invitation stands.” Sellene continued as if Aelin hadn’t spoken. “I want to invite you to come over to the Whitethorn place. We haven’t seen you in far too long, and the whole family is here, even the little ones. Plus, I’m sure Rowan wants to see you…”

She kept going, but Aelin no longer heard anything she was saying. The mere mention of the name Rowan had consumed her. Rowan wants to see you.

How could he?

Until the other week outside Staghorns, they hadn’t spoken in three years. How could he possibly want to see her?

She’d been the one to leave.

Three Years Ago

Aelin slowed down and turned onto the long, painstakingly cleared driveway of her family home and drove up the asphalt pathway until she reached the turnaround in front of the sprawling, elegant redbrick structure that was the Galathynius home. She parked, turned off the engine, and sat in the driver’s seat for a long, achingly silent moment.

Then she dried her tears, checked her reflection in the rearview mirror to make sure there was no evidence that she’d been sobbing for the last fifteen minutes, and exited her car.

With her suitcase behind her and her tote bag slung neatly over her shoulder, Aelin walked up the front steps and entered the two-story atrium of the house’s front hall. “Hello?” she called. Part of her hoped–desperately–that there would be nobody home.

But with a soft rustle of cashmere and a gentle tap-tap-tap of heeled pumps, Evalin Ashryver appeared at the top of the grand staircase. “Hello, darling.”

“Mother.” Aelin set her luggage aside and crossed the foyer, meeting her mother in the middle and accepting a perfunctory hug and air kiss.

“How was the drive?” Evalin inquired.

“Smooth,” Aelin replied. “The traffic disappeared after I left the city.”

“Funny how that happens.” Evalin pressed the buzzer on the wall, summoning the housekeeper that the family apparently still employed. “Clara, would you please take my daughter’s things to her room?” She dismissed the housekeeper and led Aelin towards the family living room.

Aelin bit her tongue to hold back all the things she wanted to spew. She’d been trying for years (without success) to convince her mother that there was no need to keep on a full-time housekeeper and butler. A cook she understood, and a groundskeeper, but Rhoe and Evalin were the only ones who lived in that huge house anymore. They didn’t need staff for everything they did.

“So pleased that you were able to come home this early,” Evalin said.

Aelin returned her attention to her mother. “Yes, I managed to take a more flexible holiday vacation.” Her lips quirked upwards. “I suppose the promotion helped.”

“The promotion?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I was promoted to editor in November.” Aelin couldn’t control the proud smile that curved across her face.

Evalin beamed. “I’ll never know why it took your firm so long to realize that you’re the most competent person there. Congratulations, darling.” She squeezed Aelin’s hand, her own hand cold. “An editor at only twenty-four. Next up, editor in chief, right?”

“Perhaps,” Aelin concurred. “But–”

“Rhoe, dear!” Evalin called, unaware that her daughter was speaking. “We have news!”

Rhoe strode into the living room with a broad, genuine smile on his face and pulled Aelin into a powerfully warm hug. “Welcome home, Fireheart.”

“Hi, Dad.” She grinned up at him. “I have news.”

“So your mother tells me.” He took a seat in one of the comfortable armchairs. “Well?”

“I’ve been promoted to editor as of last month.”

“Congratulations!” Rhoe got to his feet and wrapped his daughter in an embrace, then went over to the bar built into one side of the room and retrieved a small bottle of champagne and three flutes. “This calls for a toast!”

“Really, Rhoe,” Evalin tutted, frowning at her husband as he poured the champagne and handed out the glasses. “It’s barely even four o’clock.”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable occasion for a toast,” Rhoe returned. He pressed Aelin’s glass into her hand, giving her a look of reassurance. “To our Fireheart, the editor!”

Aelin grinned at her father, clinked her glass gently against his, and took a delicate sip of the expensive champagne; of course her parents would only stock the finest in their fridge. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Darling, haven’t we discussed how mature women ought to be past the point of referring to their parents in childish ways?” Evalin’s tone was cool, reproving.

The champagne curdled in Aelin’s stomach. Silently, she placed her glass down on the granite bartop. “I was unaware that there were politically correct terms for one’s own parents.” She kept her voice light, but her spine stiffened into steel, preparing for the inevitable onslaught of her mother’s disapproval.

“As an editor, surely you understand the value of adjusting language to fit the appropriate categorization and age range,” Evalin stated. “The same principle ought to apply to all areas of speech, darling. Furthermore, your father would never allow his employees to address him as ‘Rhoe,’ so why should his daughter address him that casually?”

“Perhaps for the fact that she is his daughter.” It was Rhoe who spoke, his words laced with the underlying note of command that marked him as the incredibly successful businessman he was. Subtly, he moved closer to Aelin, acting both as a shield between her and Evalin and as an extinguisher to the brewing flames of both women’s wrath.

Aelin exchanged a look of deepest gratitude with her father and turned to leave the room. Before she was out the door, though, she heard her mother whispering heatedly, tearing into Rhoe for the simple act of defending his only daughter.

“I will not have you come between my daughter and I when I am speaking!” Evalin hissed. “I am her mother, and you know full well that we hardly get the chance to see her. You cannot deprive me of the time I need to spend with her on the rare occasion that she’s home, you callous–”

Aelin wheeled around and stalked over to Evalin, fire blazing in the gold of her eyes. “If anyone is callous, Mom, it’s you.” Vehemence threw her words like spears. “Or were you conveniently going to forget that you interrupted my call with Rowan while I was driving because you needed to remind me that I’m a pathetic excuse of a daughter for wanting to see my boyfriend for two minutes before I come home?” Her breath was ragged. “Well, you’ll be delighted to know that I broke up with him.”

Evalin’s jaw went slack. “I–”

“You got your wish, Mother.” Aelin laughed, sardonically. “I’m home for dinnertime.”

Turning sharply on her heel, she stalked out of the room, leaving behind her shell-shocked father and her mother stunned silent for once as she processed the truth her daughter had just flung. She kept her composure all the way up to her bedroom, where she entered the room and locked the door behind herself.

Then Aelin Ashryver Galathynius, unflappable editor, crumpled to the floor and sobbed.

~~~

TAGS: please let me knof if you want to be added/removed ir if tags aren't working! :)

@live-the-fangirl-life

@superspiritfestival

@thegreyj

@wordsafterhours

@elentiyawhitethorn

@morganofthewildfire

@backtobl4ck

@rowanaelinn

@house-of-galathynius

@tomtenadia

@julemmaes

@swankii-art-teacher

@charlizeed

@booknerdproblems

@chronicchthonic14

@earthtolinds

@goddess-aelin

@sweet-but-stormy

@clea-nightingale

@autumnbabylon

@darling-im-the-queen-of-hell

@llyncooljones

@silentquartz

#my writing #rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #rowaelinmonth2023 #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin #rowan x aelin #rowaelin fanfic #but is it lollllll #rowaelin fanfiction #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #throne of glass fanfiction #stick season #stick season the fic #warning there is ANGST in this #sorry not sorry teeheehee love frederick #the angst monster tag

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sunwarmed-ash · 3 months

Text

🔥Sinful Sunday🔥

How's your summer? (re-edited)

So this one is old to me but might be new to y'all! I gave it a refluff!

(I had my IUD procedure this week and I'm just too tired. But here's a 9k story)

Fandom: The Office-US Ship: Ryan Howard/Jim Halpert Rating:🔞 Explicit 🔞 Tags: sex dreams, The Weight Loss: Part 2-Altered Canon, bottom Ryan, slut Ryan, top Jim, rough sex, choking, bisexual Ryan, bicurious Jim, public sex, blow jobs, club sex Preview:

"You gonna cum for me slut?" Ryan nods weakly, his head falling back and off the desk as he surrenders and lets Jim use his body. That was enough to send Jim over the edge, he snaps his hips roughly until he's filling Ryan’s ass with a groan. “M-More,” Ryan begs when he can finally get his mouth to make the words. Jim raises a sweat-drenched eyebrow. More? They had been fucking for well over an hour. Even he was starting to get sore. “You sure? Aren't you-” “Fuck me Jim, or I’ll find someone else. It’s not like there’s any shortage of people here.” And that statement has Jim’s head whipping up, catching eyes with Michael Scott, who A. Wasn't there a second ago... B. Was very much naked, and C. Was looking far too eager for his turn with Ryan... What in the- “Stop hogging Ryan, Jim!” The high-pitched whine of Kelly Kapoor's voice came from the same direction. Jim's mouth drys. When did she get- "Yeah, Jim.” Jim's eyes blow wide but refuse to look back in the direction of the indigent tone. He’d know it anywhere, and he’s already had the misfortune of seeing Michael naked, there was no WAY in Hell he was turning to see what Dwight- Jim jerks awake with a startled gasp, blinking away the remnants of the dream faster than his subconscious wanted, and realizing thankfully, (unfortunately?), it was just a dream. He may have still been at Dunder Mifflin Paper Company, but he was clothed, and not fucking one temp/boss/ex-boss/fraud/receptionist Ryan Howard over his girlfriend’s desk. God, there was so much to unpack in that one thought it was enough to make him want to pass back out on his desk. A quiet chuckle to his right has him straightening up suddenly. It probably has something to do with the person it belongs to. “Day hasn’t even started yet and you’re already asleep at your desk?” Ryan tisks, “Not very professional Halpert.” He sets down a purple Support Local Arts mug on the reception counter, Pam’s mug, before turning on the overhead lights. Jim winces at the harshness of the fluorescent bulbs before glaring harshly at Ryan. “You do remember you’re not my boss anymore right? Makes your opinion kinda obsolete, Fire-d guy.” The nickname is lame, admittedly, but he knows how it gets under Ryan’s skin. Something dangerous flashes in Ryan’s eyes, his smile turns coy. “Ouch, not really a morning person, are ya Jim? I bet Pam likes it though, right?” Jim’s neck flushes pink and his dick twitches traitorously in his pants. He clenches his fist until his nails bite into his hand. It's 6:32 am. Jim has been here since 5. Ryan has been here exactly two minutes and he’s already exceeded Jim’s tolerance for bullshit. Jim lets his clenched hand fall against the desk with a slap before standing abruptly. Ryan sits in response. Jim’s eyebrows raise curiously. It was too early to try and unpack what that was, and he really needs to get his thoughts off his dream if he had a prayer of surviving work today. He swallows down the final dregs of his coffee just for an excuse to leave the room.

#sinful sunday #jim/ryan #the office #jim x ryan #jim halpert #ryan howard #the office us #ryan x jim #jim halpert x ryan howard #ryan howard x jim halpert #find me on ao3 #sunwarmed ash #buy me a coffee?#links in pinned #i post new stuff every sunday #reblogs are free ways to support me!

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oh-my-damn · 1 year

Note

So sorry about the long ask im about to submit! I know you may not post because your asks are getting repetitive but i just need to rant. I just want to thank you so much for unpacking how unhealthy all of this bullshit is, hopefully it opens some eyes to how problematic every aspect of this situation has been thus far! I sent in a long ask to Maddy earlier this morning (more like a novel ranting about this lol) but it sounds like assholes are harassing and bullying her again so asks are understandably off right now and mine may have been lost in what sounds like a mountain of hate that is wrongfully being sent her way.

I'm just so soured on Chris at the moment it's even ruined his characters for me unfortunately (hopefully that's not permanent lol). This all just has such predatory undertones in my opinion. Especially the video from yesterday, and the seemingly very intentional power imbalance, it's all very questionable to me. In that chin video in particular he seemed very mean spirited and almost malicious if that makes sense, almost like he wanted to humiliate her. And like you said in a previous post and I touched on I'm my ask to Maddy, everything we've been told has been a lie to sell a narrative, it's all so disingenuous now. The whole I grew up around women, I'm a feminist, looking back it's such bullshit. The whole copy and paste milestones and moments from woman to woman proves that too. To my mind, there's only two conclusions to draw from that, either you think women are all the same and are not in fact complex human beings with their own desires and interests and so you copy and paste! Or you don't like or care enough about women as people to even consider their interests and all that matters is what you want to do and so you copy and paste. Either way its gross to me. Real or pr doesn't matter to me anymore, I'm staying for the implosion because I've sunk enough time into this for it to feel like a waste to bow out now. Either way I don't think I'll ever look at him the same way again.

The chin video - I can't watch that video with grimacing. The way he pans off and bursts out laughing at the end really does it for me. She is unaware of what exactly is going on, seemingly, and doesn't know what it looks like. To me, her laugh sounds more awkward and hesitant but she's going along with it because he's laughing and thinks it's funny. But then when she says "I don't know what to say" and he pans off, his laugh sounds almost mocking, more like he's laughing at her than with her.

And I think that's the point for me with those two videos. He's not posting her saying or doing something funny on purpose. He's not posting a video of her in a cute moment, for example, getting ready for her movie premiere and he captures her humming along and he thinks it's adorable, he's not capturing a genuine sweet moment that happened organically between them. All of the videos he posts are things done to capture a video (scare, chin, mario), almost setting her up like a little fucking doll to make content on her expense, BUT those last two, they were not filmed because she's funny.

They were because she was doing something not purposely funny that he finds funny at her expense. Even the end of the mario video, if you watch it back, you can tell he actually isn't the one filming. Someone else is.

At the end of it, there's a another mans chuckle, and if you listen carefully (I was wearing headphones) when she loses the game and covers her face, you can HEAR Chris turning in the direction of the person filming and laughing at her, to him, where this third person then chuckles in response before ending the video.

To the naked eye, the videos may seem endearing and them "having a good time" but a lot of it is also him laughing at her for looking stupid or making a mistake, like not being able to play mario, a video we know she doesn't like (probably because she thinks its embarrassing, in some way. We all know how it can feel when people are watching you do something and you fail at it. If you feel completely safe, it's not scary, but if some part of you wants to impress said individual, it can be terribly embarrassing).

That's not endearing, it is not cute, and especially not with everything else taken into account, like the fact that he holds all the power in their relationship, and right now, he also holds all the power in how she is portrayed to the world, because she doesn't have any social media herself. So all the GP knows about this girl is what he's putting out there.

The feminism point is spot on. I remember in Jenny's book, she mentioned how her "head exploded" because he wouldn't stop talking and that he would care so much about the issues he couldn't accept any situation where he wasn't right about it. So in translation: if she told him something about what it's like to be a woman, he would argue with that and try to mansplain what it's like to be a woman and why all men should be feminists. It's talking about feminism in a healthy way turned on it's head because the conversation still ends up being about the man and what a great man he is, for being a feminist. I've experienced it before and her words rang so true to me, I could picture it immediately.

I'm the same regarding bowing out. Right now I also just want to be able to offer a space for all of you who send me asks (more than I can keep up with) while still trying to keep some semblance of the fandom I used to love. So I still adore his characters, I don't want to cut ties with them, and in some parts I still like the Chris we used to know because a small part of me still hopes it wasn't all a ruse, that some parts of that were the real him, and that right now he's having a meltdown because of turning 40 and not being at the point in his career and life he had hoped he'd be. Desperate men do desperate things.

It's not an excuse though, and I hope people remember that regarding this whole con thing; it's another desperate move on his end. He's losing control and he absolutely hates it.

#mandy answers #chris evans #alba baptista #valentines day #video #chin #mario #con #comic con

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elvenmother · 1 year

Text

The Art of Crossed Wires - 8 - The Third Time

Pairing: Marcus Pike x Female Reader Rating: Teen. Warnings: Swearing Chapter: 8/9 Word count: 2769

Summary: After your date with Agent Monroe, you need to fix things once more with Marcus. This leads to a heart-to-heart and, finally, some clarity.

Note: This has not been beta read, so apologies for any mistakes. Almost the last chapter.

Part Seven | Part One | Series Masterpost

After the disastrous date with Garrett Monroe, you decided it would be a good idea to spend the weekend with friends, specifically Mary. One quick phone call on Saturday morning, and she arrived at your apartment within the hour. She’d brought snacks as well as a couple of bottles of wine, just in case, apparently.

Then you told her everything. About how her pranks had put you so on edge that you’d slapped Marcus. About the book and the lunch that came after. About how you’d thought it was a date and made a fool of yourself the following Saturday at the gallery. And finally, about the date with Garrett and how he’d tricked you when you were at your lowest.

“Wow.” Mary sat for a moment, her eyes wide, her chocolate bar paused halfway to her lips. “That’s a lot to unpack and, just… wow.”

“Yeah.” You slumped back on your sofa, stuffing a mini cheese wheel into your mouth.

“Right.” She sat forward, finishing off her chocolate in one mouthful. “Firstly, I am so fucking sorry about the pranks. I went way too far and haven’t really properly apologised for that. So I’m doing it now. I am very sorry. Now, let's take this step by step and fix this…”

“Mess?”

“I wasn’t going to say mess, but yeah, honey, it’s a clusterfuck right now.” Mary dove into her purse and retrieved a pad and pen. “Right, first was the slap, but you fixed that yourself with an excellent gift. But then…”

“Then I went to lunch with him and read too much into it.” You covered your face with your face dramatically.

“Yes, but again this is fixable.” She patted your knee and continued to write. “Honey, this is an easyish fix. You need to talk to him.”

“I tried that.” Your reply was muffled by your hands.

“No. You explained your point of view, but then neither of you properly talk about it afterwards.” Mary reached over, pulling one of your hands down so she could look at you. “Yeah, it’s awkward. But you need to talk to him about how you were mistaken and didn’t mean to make it…”

“Weird.”

“Uncomfortable. Just be honest. He’ll understand.” Mary smiled at you, and you felt your other hand drop. “Also, you need to tell him what Agent Monroe said about him. Cos, that’s really manipulative bullshit.”

“Urgh, Monroe.” You grabbed a bag of chips, pulled it open and stuffed a handful in your mouth. “‘e’s gonna b’ fuffin’ weir’ wi’ me too.”

“You leave Agent Asshole to me.” Mary looked at you sternly. “I’ll keep an ear out and head off any gossip. I’ll also give some of the other ladies a quiet heads up about his ways.”

“Thank you.” You looked over at your friend.

“I helped make this mess, and besides, I love you.” She shrugged. “Anyway, we have a plan now, so let's forget about stupid men for the rest of the weekend.”

“Agreed.” You grinned as Mary held her arms open for you.

“Let's cuddle up and watch something dumb.” Mary chuckled as you crawled into her waiting arms.

~~~~~

After spending the weekend with Mary, you felt tons better. Not only had you mended your friendship, but you also had a plan in place. Talk to Marcus. It sounded so simple, but as the hours ticked by on Monday morning, you still had no idea what you were going to say. Sitting at your desk, you tried to focus on your work. However, after reading the same paragraph five times, you knew something needed to be done. This was interfering with work now. You needed to go talk to him as soon as possible before you lost your nerve.

Quietly getting up from your desk, you scanned the office for Marcus, finally spotting him at the edge of the bullpen on his way to his office. Walking briskly across the space, you were thankful that most of your colleagues were focused on their tasks as you passed by them.

You managed to catch up to Marcus by the elevators between the bullpen's large open-plan workspace and the agents' private offices. He stopped as he heard your footsteps, turning with a smile only for it to drop as he saw it was you.

“Hey.” You took a deep breath and smiled. “Do you have a minute?”

Marcus nodded, pulling the files he was holding closer to his chest. “Sure.”

“I wanted to talk to you about the other Saturday at the gallery and what happened. I just-”

“How was your date with Monroe?” Marcus cut you off, his handsome features becoming sharper and his tone more abrupt. You heard your jaw click shut as you stared at him.

“I… it was… what makes you think it was a date?”

Marcus frowned as his eyes darted away from you for a second. His whole body seemed tense as he licked his lips in thought. “Because I’ve had to listen to him talking about it to other agents all morning. I get the impression it didn’t go well, seeing as he’s not saying very kind things about you.”

“What?” A shiver ran down your spine as you remembered just how badly the date had ended and imagined what kind of things Garrett could be saying.

“Yeah.” Marcus swallowed hard. “He took great joy in telling me and a couple of the other agents that you were…” He closed his eyes as if contemplating whether or not to tell you.

“What has he said about me?” You groaned, wanting to get this over with. “Just tell me.”

“That you’re an uptight bitch who wants to bag an agent because you think it’s the way to get a promotion out of the bullpen.” Marcus sighed, rolling his eyes. “But that you won’t put out to seal the deal. His words, not mine.”

“Did he now?” You folded your arms across your chest and scowled. You knew Garrett Monroe was a pig, but this was low even for him. “And you believe him?”

There was a long pause as Marcus bit his lip and looked everywhere except at you. “No.” He said quietly. “I just, I didn’t expect him to be your type.”

“He’s not. I was just… I don’t know… confused about where we stood.” You unfolded your arms as you shook your head. “After we spoke that Saturday, you were really weird with me because of what I said. And then Monroe told me you weren’t into women, so-”

“Wait! He said what?” Marcus held a hand up to stop you midsentence, staring at you incredulously.

“I think he said so I’d go on a date with him, but at the time, I dunno, it sort of made a little sense.” You shrugged, watching as Marcus’ face relaxed slightly from the tense frown. “I’d made you feel awkward, and I figured it was because you were…you know, gay.”

“Gay? You thought I was gay?” Marcus blinked like you’d just told him you had two heads.

“I-”

“I was flirting with you, and you-” Marcus stopped as two coworkers approached. Quietly watching them as they passed, he frowned. “This isn’t the place to talk about this.”

You thought for a moment as your colleagues left earshot. “Coffee shop?”

“No.” Marcus shook his head. “Look, Monroe has been a grade-A jackass, but he did make me realise we need to fix… this.” He motioned to the two of you. “Would you feel comfortable coming to my place tonight?”

“Your house?” You were taken aback, unable to hide the surprise from your voice.

“Apartment, yeah.” Marcus ran a hand through his hair, still watching to make sure no one was listening. “If that’s too-”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Ok.” Marcus let out another sigh. “I have to get back to work. I’ll email you my address. See you at seven?”

“Seven.” You nodded, watching as Marcus returned the nod and headed towards his office. With your shoulders feeling a little lighter but your head still buzzing, you made your way back to your desk.

~~~~~

Marcus’ apartment building was a tall modern building. The exterior was made up of red brick and glass, and it dwarfed some of the older buildings on the street. To the left of the large double glass doors was the intercom panel. After double-checking your email on your phone, you found Marcus’ apartment number and pushed the smooth silver button.

A few minutes and an elevator ride later, Marcus greeted you at his apartment door. He must have showered as soon as he got home, his hair still slightly damp with little droplets falling onto the shoulders of his t-shirt as he showed you into his modest apartment. You watched as he fussed, tidying cushions and books before motioning for you to take a seat on the sofa.

“Have you eaten?” He perched on the arm of a nearby chair, tugging on his t-shirt nervously.

“No, I barely had the chance to change before heading over here.” You gestured to your more casual clothes: a graphic tee and well-worn jeans.

“Me too.” Marcus nodded, smiling slightly before standing and pulling his phone out of his own jeans. “Take-out?”

“Sure.” You still left nervous despite the attempts of both of you to make this feel relaxed. “I’m happy with whatever you like. Just nothing too spicy.”

“Got it.” Marcus thought for a moment before swiping on his phone. “Pizza?”

“Sure.” You repeated and waited while he placed the order, taking in his home.

The outside of the building was very modern; something echoed inside and further demonstrated by the clean, crisp lines in the apartment. However, even if you hadn’t known this was Marcus’ apartment, everything about the decor screamed it to you in full volume.

Soft, plush armchairs and a big comfy sofa dominated the living space adding much-needed bursts of vibrant colour to the stark white of the walls. Portraits hung alongside landscapes and abstract pieces. Beautiful photographs sat next to sketches. Looking over at the walls, you felt a smile creep onto your face as you realised almost every inch of them was covered in art.

Two massive bookcases overflowed with books, graphic novels and what looked like a couple of TTRPG rulebooks. Then in front of them on the shelves, each probably deliberately positioned, were tens of tiny sculptures. You had been tempted to call them knickknacks, but that somehow felt like diminishing their beauty. Small wire models shared shelves with Funko figures. A grey speckles picture frame with green tentacles bursting out of it sat next to a bronze handbell shaped like a southern lady, the hoop skirt flaring out to form the main bell casting.

“Shouldn’t be too long.” Marcus snapped you out of your observations, tucking his phone back into his pocket. Following your eye line, he smiled at the bell. “My grandmother’s. She collected them. I remember she had a sideboard in her house covered in them. When she passed me, my brother, my sister and all the cousins got to choose one to keep. I chose the southern belle.”

“That’s a lovely way to remember her.”

“Yeah.” He moved from the arm of the chair to sitting properly in it. “Funny thing was there were no arguments either. We all had different favourites, so everyone got the bell they wanted.” Marcus paused for a moment, still looking at the bell, before taking a deep breath and turning back to you. “So… let's get awkward.”

“Ah.” You nodded, taking a deep breath of your own. “Yeah, no point putting this off.”

“I’ll start.” Marcus frowned for a moment. “I owe you an apology.”

“Me?” You could hardly believe your ears. “I’m the one who made it weird.”

“No, you weren’t. Well, yeah, a little. But I did too.” He paused as he chose his next words, his eyes locked onto your face. “You think you made it weird by thinking of our lunch as a date and then saying so. But the truth is you saying that to me caught me off guard because I’d also been thinking of it like that.”

Marcus stopped and seemed to be collecting himself while his words sunk in. It had been a date. And more than that, you hadn’t imagined him feeling the same way.

“I need to tell you about something that happened to me just before I moved to D.C.”, Marcus spoke again after a few moments. His voice seemed quieter, softer almost, and the more he spoke, the more fragile he sounded. “Just before I got my promotion to the task force, I was seeing someone. A fellow agent. I was… I fell for her. Hard. Even asked her to move here with me.”

“But she said no?”

“Actually, she said yes. I called in favours to get her assigned here too and eventually asked her to marry me.” Marcus swallowed, and you could see him fighting tears. “Again, she said yes, and I thought everything was perfect. I was so in love. But as you’ve probably guessed, it didn’t end well. She left me and…”

Marcus stopped to collect himself. You shifted along the sofa towards him until you were sat at the other end and could reach his hand. Slowly you reached out for him, and to your relief, he took your hand, giving it a squeeze.

“She broke my heart.” He said finally. “I went over and over what I did wrong. Eventually, I think I figured it out. I went too fast, rushed it. Story of my life.” Marcus let out a mirthless laugh. “Anyway, I made a promise to myself to take it slow. And I’ve tried. But then I met you.”

“I’m sorry about what happened.” You weren’t sure what to say. You could certainly relate, not ever really having had much luck in love yourself.

“I loved our lunch together and couldn’t wait to see you again. I thought about you all day Friday. Wondering what you were doing. Imagining what it would be like to…” Marcus trailed off for a moment, squeezing your hand again. “But I was also scared because I could already feel myself falling for you. Moving too fast again. But I got around that by telling myself it was just one-sided.”

“But then when I confessed the same thing…”

“Yeah.” Marcus dropped his head down, looking at you through his eyelashes. “I froze because, well… that made it real, and that scared me. And by freezing, it sent you the wrong message, which is why I’m the one who needs to apologise.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a soft laugh. “We’re quite the pair. We’ve both been overthinking this way too much.”

“Yeah.” Marcus chucked. “I should have said something but chickened out every time I saw you. But then-”

“Monroe.” You scowled. “That asshole.”

“Yeah.” Marcus frowned. “He told me he had a hot date but didn’t say who. Kept dropping hints, which I obviously didn’t pick up on. So when I saw you with him that night, it felt like my heart had been stomped on-”

“Marcus, that’s not why I-”

“I know.” Marcus reached over and took both of your hands in his. You had to marvel at just how large and gentle his hands were. “It felt like that cos I knew I’d screwed up and missed my chance. Well, I thought I had.”

“I, um…” You ran your thumb over the back of one of his hands, looking up into his smiling face. “Can I ask? Who were you with that night?”

You watched as he gave a soft chuckle. “My older sister Amelia. I called her to ask for advice. Told her I was doing it again.” He laughed harder. “She came to visit last weekend to deal with her idiot brother, well, one of them anyway.”

You could pretend you weren’t relieved, and Marcus must have noticed your shoulders relax, although thankfully, he didn’t say anything. Instead, the two of you sat for a moment, smiling at each other, basking in the glow that comes from knowing the other person returns your feelings.

“Start over again?” You said finally with a small giggle. This was becoming almost ridiculous.

“Third time’s the charm, right?” Marcus gave you a lopsided smile, his warm brown eyes twinkling.

“So, to be clear.” You needed to hear him say it. “This will be a date?”

Marcus leaned forward, pulling your hands towards him and stared directly into your eyes. “Definitely a date.”

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