Loving You A Little Louder (Pt.2)
Reese Wilkerson x fem!Reader
I couldn't find anymore without the text :(
It didnât end with the window creaking open this time.
A slammed door. The sharp thunder of boots on the stairs. And then the kind of silence that presses against your chest like a held breath, waiting for the world to fall apart.
Not a particularly important one. Not a birthday or a holiday or the night of some great storm. Just one of those in-between nights where the air felt thick with things left unsaid, and the moon was low and bone-colored behind drifting clouds. It was one of those nights where the world felt tilted.
It started, like always, with the creak of the window.
The soft thunk of muddy sneakers landing on the floor. The recklessness of Reese, crashing into her room like a storm disguised as a person.
"Okay, tell me the truth," he said, half-breathless. "If I died impaled on your rose bush, would you still tell people I was cool?"
Y/n sat on the edge of her bed, hair a mess, and heart pounding. Reese stood a few feet away, his jaw clenched, his green eyes wild and lost and furious all at once. His hoodie was inside out. One sock was halfway off. He looked like someone who was caught mid-dream and dumped into a nightmare.
Y/n smirked, already tugging him under the covers, her hands finding the warmth of his neck. "Iâd say you died doing what you lovedâbeing dramatic and trespassing."
"Thatâs so hot," he whispered, voice low and smug.
"You werenât quiet today," she whispered, eyes wide. "I told you he stays up late on Fridays. He watches those war documentaries and pretends he's not crying."
"I was quiet!" Reese hissed back. "Your floorboards are just out to get me. I think they squeak louder when Iâm here on purpose."
Everything was normal. Everything was perfect.
Turns out, they'd seen him.
Hal had gotten up to use the bathroom. Saw Reese out the window, sneaking across the yard with the subtlety of a raccoon high on cocaine. Lois had caught wind before he even made it over the back fence.
Of course she followed. Of course she dragged Hal. Of course she made him drive two blocks over and park across the street like they were on a stakeout.
Of course she watched through binoculars. (Yes. Binoculars.)
She wasnât about to miss the action, even if it meant looking like a total creep from the bushes.
Y/nâs dad met them at the front doorâalready half-awake from the noise upstairs. He looked at Lois like she was a bomb someone had left on his welcome mat.
âWho the hell are you?â he asked, voice low and dangerous.
âIâm the mother of the delinquent climbing through your daughterâs window,â Lois snapped, storming in like she owned the place. Hal trailed behind her, looking awkward and holding a half-eaten granola bar.
âOh boy,â Hal muttered. âThis is going to be a thing, isnât it?â
Upstairs was absolute chaos.
Reese was pacing, whisper-swearing under his breath, trying to figure out whether he should jump out the window and risk breaking both legs or just accept his fate.
Y/n sat on the bed, pale, heart thudding. âShould Iâshould we go down?â
âNo,â Reese hissed. âMaybe if we hide really well, theyâll forget we exist.â
Then the door slammed open.
There he stood. Mr. Y/l/n. Six feet of fury in a Marine Corps t-shirt, veins visible, fists balled like twin anvils.
Y/nâs dad and Lois stood shoulder-to-shoulder like war generals. Hal peeked in from the hallway, giving an apologetic little wave.
âYOU,â Y/nâs dad said, jabbing a finger at Reese. âGET. OUT.â
Reese didnât move. Not yet. For a second, something flickered in his eyes. Fear, sureâbut something else. Something bold.
"No," he said. Just that. Quiet. Stupid. Brave.
Y/nâs mouth dropped open. "Reeseâ"
"No," he repeated, louder now. "Iâm not leaving just âcause you bark like the world owes you something."
Her father stepped forward. But Reese didnât flinch.
"You have exactly ten seconds to disappear before I make you disappear."
"Why do you even hate me so much?" Reese snapped. "Iâm not selling drugs! Iâm not dragging her into some crime ring! I brought her a stuffed penguin last week, man!"
"Yeah," Y/n muttered under her breath, "he did. It had a little hat."
But her dad didnât laugh. Of course he didnât. The man had a laugh quota of maybe two per decade.
"You sneak in here like some criminal. You act like the rules donât apply to you. Youâre reckless. Youâre unstable. You set my grill on fire!"
"It was propaneâs fault!" Reese shouted. "Donât gaslight meâpun intended!"
"I donât want you near my daughter," Mr. Y/l/n said, cold as ice. "You're not good for her."
Hal raised a hand, trying to keep peace. âI think weâre all a littleâuhâheightened right now. Hormones and yelling and teenage trespassing, itâs a lotââ
But it was too late, the damage was done. Reese didnât yell after that. He just stood there.
And in that second, the air felt thick with secrets and failure and the sweet rot of teenage rebellion, he looked like everything he tried so hard to be: a screw-up.
Until a voice cut through the tension like a butter knife at a crime scene.
âHey!â Lois stepped in front of her son like a feral wolf. âDonât you talk to my kid like that! He may be dumb, reckless, and completely unqualified to have a girlfriendâbut heâs still mine!â
âThen take him!â her dad snapped. âThis is the third time I've caught them! I told him if he came back here againââ
âOh what? You gonna ground my kid?â Lois shot back. âBecause trust me, that doesnât work."
Reese muttered, âShe once grounded me from oxygen.â
"You," Lois said to Mr. Y/l/n, "are being ridiculous."
"Iâm just trying to protect my daughter."
"No," Lois shot back. "Youâre trying to control her. Thereâs a difference."
"Iâm not gonna let some reckless, no-future boy ruin her lifeâ"
"Excuse me," Reese interrupted, holding up a finger. "I could have a future. Like, a really cool one. Likeâlike a stuntman. Or, like, one of those guys who test out mattresses by jumping on them all day."
"Shut up, Reese," Lois snapped.
Lois turned back to Mr. Y/l/n. "Listen. My son? Heâs not perfect. Heâs messy, loud, and he still thinks pickles count as vegetables. But he loves your daughter. And she clearly loves him back. So unless you want her to start sneaking out through the roof, I suggest you pull your head out of your emotionally-stunted backside and deal with it like an adult."
The silence that followed was heavy. Y/n didnât breathe. Reese blinked.
Her dadâs eyes landed on her. And suddenly, all the Marine bravado fell away, and he looked... tired. Older than she remembered.
"Y/n," he said, quietly. "Is this what you want?"
She stood. Her hands were shaking, but her voice wasnât.
"Yes," she said. "This isnât just some dumb thing. This isnât sneaking out to meet some loser. Heâsâheâs stupid, yeah, but he's Reese. He makes me feel like I can breathe. Like the world isnât as heavy as it feels. Like I matter. And I love him. "
Then Reese turned to her. âWaitâyou do?â
Y/n rolled her eyes. âYes, idiot. Have you not been paying attention?â
âI mean, yeah, butâI thought maybe it was just the illegal part you liked.â
Lois let out a tiny, victorious hum, as Hal smiled softly.
Y/nâs dad looked like someone had punched him in the gut.
âYou love him?â he repeated.
Silence stretched, long and uncomfortable. A cricket chirped somewhere outside. And Hal coughed awkwardly.
Finally, her dad sighed. It wasnât surrenderâit was more like exhaustion.
Mr. Y/l/n looked at her for a long time. And then at Reese.
And finally, he sighed. The kind of sigh that says this is going to haunt me later.
"Fine," he muttered. "But if you get her pregnant, I will hunt you."
"Fair," Reese said, already slipping his hand into Y/nâs.
Lois smirked. "Youâre welcome."
âBut if heâs staying,â he muttered, âheâs trimming that damn rose bush in the morning.â
They didnât talk much after that. Everyone cleared out. Lois dragged Reese by the ear. Hal waved goodnight and thanked Y/nâs dad for the hospitality like theyâd just had dinner together instead of a verbal shootout.
But before Reese leftâbefore the window closed againâhe turned to her.
âYou really meant it?â he asked.
She nodded. âEvery word.â
Reese grinned. That dumb, crooked, heartbreaker smile.
âIâm gonna marry you someday,â he said.
Just a shadow in the night. Muddy footprints on the carpet. A rose thorn caught in the cuff of his jeans.
And later, much later, when Y/n lay in bed with the world quiet and still, she smiled to herself.
Because loveâreal loveâwasnât always soft.
Sometimes it came dressed in denim and bruises. Sometimes it crashed through your window and ruined your lamp. Sometimes it was messy and loud and smelled like cheap apple shampoo.
And in the end, that was enough.
Because this?
This was still love.
Still messy.
No longer a secret.
But it was still theirs.
