when shane is overwhelmed or stressed, he gets so lost in his own head that he'll accidentally burn food because he genuinely forgets he's cooking. only for ilya to notice immediately, even without the smoke. he'll tease shane for exactly five seconds before realizing something's actually wrong. ilya never makes shane feel guilty for it. he just takes over the cooking, rubs circles into his shoulder, kisses his forehead, and reminds him he's there whenever he's ready to talk.
ā” summary: when you have trouble sleeping at night, rafe is there to help you quiet the noise.
ā” warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. oral (f!receiving), female reader, no use of y/n, not proofread, insomnia
ā” a/n: wrote this when i was stuck awake last night lol enjoy.
2:34am
The clock on your nightstand shines a bright red, glow bouncing off the shiny oak surface it rests on.
You sigh, reaching out and flipping the clock around. You figure that being aware of the time is only going to make things worse.
Flipping onto your back, staring at the ceiling, the body next to you shuffles a little, then settles.
You press your lips together into a straight line as your hands meet your face. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger, then move your palm up to your forehead. It rests there for a moment before you move it behind your head, closing your eyes.
Your mind is racing.
Ruminating.
Work has been a huge stressor, it feels like youāre on all the time. Itās been extremely difficult for you to find time for yourself lately, to find the time to decompress. You take a breath in, hold it for a few seconds, then breathe back out.
Your arm drops from your forehead, letting it rest over your stomach.
No matter what you do, you cannot get comfortable. Your legs feel tense, your stomach feels weird, and you have a soft but persistent ache behind your eyes.
Sitting up, you gently remove the comforter off your body and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. A shiver travels up your legs as your feet come into contact with your hard wood floor. After resting your hands on your knees for a moment, you push yourself up and walk over to your bathroom.
You shut the door, flip the light on and lean over the counter slightly, looking at yourself in the mirror.
Sometimes getting out of bed for a little bit helps.
You twist the knobs to turn on the faucet, cold water shooting down the drain. You grab a glass that sits on the counter next to the sink and fill it with tap water, taking a few sips before placing it back down.
Rafe would not be pleased with you drinking tap water. Youāve always been filtered water people; however, it was go all the way downstairs to the fridge, or have a few sips from the tap.
You chose the latter.
You turn the doorknob and flip the light back off, stepping back into Rafeās bedroom. You gently lift the covers and crawl back into bed, laying on your side facing away from the nightstand.
You lock eyes with Rafe, laying on his stomach. His face is pressed up against his pillow, his eyelids.
āOh shit,ā you whisper, āI woke you up. Iām sorry.ā
You pull the comforter up to your chin, feeling guilty.
āNah, Iāve been awake,ā he mumbles, voice gravelly, shoving his hands underneath the pillow to prop his head up a little bit.
Rafe was sleeping, but lightly, as the reality is youāve been tossing and turning all night long.
āFuckāwhatās your problem?ā He grumbles, closing his eyes ever so slightly as you stare at him.
Your chest tightens, ānothing. Itās fine, go back to sleep.ā
You flip over to face the nightstand once more, taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to focus on anything other than falling asleep.
He sighs behind you, the bed rocking slightly as he shuffles next to you.
Rafe reaches out, scooting himself so heās up against your back. One of his arms reaches around you, curling around the small of your waist where your tank top rides up a little bit. You reach your arm down to place your hand on top of his.
He lifts his head, then lets it rest in the crook of your neck and begins drawing little circles on your stomach with his thumb. It makes you shiver.
āWhatās the matter,ā he grumbles, softer this time.
He tries to be sweet, but itās pitch black on a week night. You donāt blame him.
āJust go to back to sleep, I donāt want to keep you upā
āChristāIām already up.ā
You sigh, giving in. Rafe many things. Stubborn is one of them.
āEverything is just really busy. No matter what I do, I canāt get my mind to turn off. I canāt get comfortableā¦ and now Iām just getting bitchy.ā
He hums in response, his hand gravitating towards your bottoms, his palm is flat, tucking his fingers underneath your waistband. He stops, letting it rest. Heat finds your core, forming a knot in your abdomen.
His breath is hot, causing your neck to feel damp. Kissing you gently, Rafe applies the slightest bit of pressure with his fingers.
āI could make you feel better, clear your head a little bit.ā
His words send a pulse down to your heat. You hate the effect he has on you, even in the late hours of the night.
You breathe out through your nose, almost a laugh, trying to shrug it off.
āItās late, Rafe.ā
āYeah, no shit.ā
His hand drops down lower, his index finger finding a place in between your folds with a low hum.
āYou can tell me to stop,ā his finger slowly slides up and down, spreading your slick.
Aa soft breath leaves your freshly parted lips as you push into him.
āSāwhat I thought,ā he mumbles against your shoulder, pulling his fingers out from under your pants.
āRafe,ā you whine at the loss of his fingers.
He pulls away completely now, his bare chest leaving your back. Goosebumps form at the sudden loss of body heat, chill in the air.
The heat slowly returns to your body as you roll over. Your eyes rake over his shirtless form, his bicep flexes slightly as he lifts his arm up to rest his head on his hand.
The loss of his touch combined with the lack of sleep, irritated is one of many words you could pull from the bank of feelings you have swimming in your mind right now.
You flip to your back to stare at the ceiling, sighing out in frustration as his hand makes his way back to your tummy.
āWhat do you want hm?ā
You sigh, now is not the time to play games.
āRafe please,ā you whine, twisting your head to look at him. A smug smirk plants itself on his face.
āPlease what?ā His hand moves back down to the waist band of your underwear, looping his finger around it.
Rafeās fingers gently tug at your lacy panties, your eyes following the movement. He knew what you wanted, but liked hearing you say it.
āTouch meā¦ā you whisper, flitting your eyes up to his.
āGood girl.ā His smirk widens, satisfaction written on his face. The friction of his thumb against your skin makes your pulse spike before he finally strips them away, off your ankles.
He shifts until heās positioned between your knees, looking down to see his hands sliding up to grip the insides of your thighs to hold you in place.
The first touch of his mouth is agonizingly gentleāa warm press against your sensitive skin that pulls a sharp gasp from your chest. He doesnāt rush, his tongue setting a steady rhythm.
Rafe hums lowly, the vibration earning a quiet whine from you as he gently sucks on your clit, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to hold you still.
His tongue swirls around you with a steady pressure, slipping his fingers inside you.
āRafeā fuck, pleaseāā you whine, your head tossing back against the pillow as your heels dig into the mattress. You feel like youāre about to snap.
Rafe responds with nothing but a groan, vibrations coursing through you again. His smugness is gone, replaced by the need to see you completely undone.
His focus remains on your swollen clit, targeting the sensitive peak while his fingers pump inside you. You can barely breathe. You canāt think.
Your fingers twist in the sheets as the first wave of your orgasm crashes over you, clamping around his fingers.
Rafe doesn't pull away; he laps up every drop of your release, riding out the contractions with long, strokes that send electricity shooting down your legs. He keeps his fingers buried deep, feeling every pulse of your muscles until your hips finally settle and you collapse back onto the bed.
Slowly, he drags himself up your body, leaving a trail of warm kisses along your stomach and ribcage before hovering over your face.
āStill thinking?" he asks, his voice gravelly, a faint, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shake your head weakly against the pillow, your chest still heaving. Your mind, which had been racing in circles just twenty minutes ago, is completely blank.
"Good." Rafe shifts his weight, pulling the discarded blanket up over both of you before tugging you hard against his side. He pulls you in until your back is flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting heavy over your stomach.
He buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. You can feel the rapid, unsteady thrum of his heartbeat against your shoulder blades.
"Go to sleep," he mutters against your skin.
His fingers lightly tap a restless rhythm against your hip, a physical reminder of the static always buzzing in his head, but his grip never loosens. Smothered in his heat, his scent, and the absolute finality of his voice, your eyelids finally grow too heavy to fight.
ā” summary: when you have trouble sleeping at night, rafe is there to help you quiet the noise.
ā” warnings: 18+ mdni. smut. oral (f!receiving), female reader, no use of y/n, not proofread, insomnia
ā” a/n: wrote this when i was stuck awake last night lol enjoy.
2:34am
The clock on your nightstand shines a bright red, glow bouncing off the shiny oak surface it rests on.
You sigh, reaching out and flipping the clock around. You figure that being aware of the time is only going to make things worse.
Flipping onto your back, staring at the ceiling, the body next to you shuffles a little, then settles.
You press your lips together into a straight line as your hands meet your face. You pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger, then move your palm up to your forehead. It rests there for a moment before you move it behind your head, closing your eyes.
Your mind is racing.
Ruminating.
Work has been a huge stressor, it feels like youāre on all the time. Itās been extremely difficult for you to find time for yourself lately, to find the time to decompress. You take a breath in, hold it for a few seconds, then breathe back out.
Your arm drops from your forehead, letting it rest over your stomach.
No matter what you do, you cannot get comfortable. Your legs feel tense, your stomach feels weird, and you have a soft but persistent ache behind your eyes.
Sitting up, you gently remove the comforter off your body and swing your feet over the edge of the bed. A shiver travels up your legs as your feet come into contact with your hard wood floor. After resting your hands on your knees for a moment, you push yourself up and walk over to your bathroom.
You shut the door, flip the light on and lean over the counter slightly, looking at yourself in the mirror.
Sometimes getting out of bed for a little bit helps.
You twist the knobs to turn on the faucet, cold water shooting down the drain. You grab a glass that sits on the counter next to the sink and fill it with tap water, taking a few sips before placing it back down.
Rafe would not be pleased with you drinking tap water. Youāve always been filtered water people; however, it was go all the way downstairs to the fridge, or have a few sips from the tap.
You chose the latter.
You turn the doorknob and flip the light back off, stepping back into Rafeās bedroom. You gently lift the covers and crawl back into bed, laying on your side facing away from the nightstand.
You lock eyes with Rafe, laying on his stomach. His face is pressed up against his pillow, his eyelids.
āOh shit,ā you whisper, āI woke you up. Iām sorry.ā
You pull the comforter up to your chin, feeling guilty.
āNah, Iāve been awake,ā he mumbles, voice gravelly, shoving his hands underneath the pillow to prop his head up a little bit.
Rafe was sleeping, but lightly, as the reality is youāve been tossing and turning all night long.
āFuckāwhatās your problem?ā He grumbles, closing his eyes ever so slightly as you stare at him.
Your chest tightens, ānothing. Itās fine, go back to sleep.ā
You flip over to face the nightstand once more, taking a deep breath, you close your eyes and try to focus on anything other than falling asleep.
He sighs behind you, the bed rocking slightly as he shuffles next to you.
Rafe reaches out, scooting himself so heās up against your back. One of his arms reaches around you, curling around the small of your waist where your tank top rides up a little bit. You reach your arm down to place your hand on top of his.
He lifts his head, then lets it rest in the crook of your neck and begins drawing little circles on your stomach with his thumb. It makes you shiver.
āWhatās the matter,ā he grumbles, softer this time.
He tries to be sweet, but itās pitch black on a week night. You donāt blame him.
āJust go to back to sleep, I donāt want to keep you upā
āChristāIām already up.ā
You sigh, giving in. Rafe many things. Stubborn is one of them.
āEverything is just really busy. No matter what I do, I canāt get my mind to turn off. I canāt get comfortableā¦ and now Iām just getting bitchy.ā
He hums in response, his hand gravitating towards your bottoms, his palm is flat, tucking his fingers underneath your waistband. He stops, letting it rest. Heat finds your core, forming a knot in your abdomen.
His breath is hot, causing your neck to feel damp. Kissing you gently, Rafe applies the slightest bit of pressure with his fingers.
āI could make you feel better, clear your head a little bit.ā
His words send a pulse down to your heat. You hate the effect he has on you, even in the late hours of the night.
You breathe out through your nose, almost a laugh, trying to shrug it off.
āItās late, Rafe.ā
āYeah, no shit.ā
His hand drops down lower, his index finger finding a place in between your folds with a low hum.
āYou can tell me to stop,ā his finger slowly slides up and down, spreading your slick.
Aa soft breath leaves your freshly parted lips as you push into him.
āSāwhat I thought,ā he mumbles against your shoulder, pulling his fingers out from under your pants.
āRafe,ā you whine at the loss of his fingers.
He pulls away completely now, his bare chest leaving your back. Goosebumps form at the sudden loss of body heat, chill in the air.
The heat slowly returns to your body as you roll over. Your eyes rake over his shirtless form, his bicep flexes slightly as he lifts his arm up to rest his head on his hand.
The loss of his touch combined with the lack of sleep, irritated is one of many words you could pull from the bank of feelings you have swimming in your mind right now.
You flip to your back to stare at the ceiling, sighing out in frustration as his hand makes his way back to your tummy.
āWhat do you want hm?ā
You sigh, now is not the time to play games.
āRafe please,ā you whine, twisting your head to look at him. A smug smirk plants itself on his face.
āPlease what?ā His hand moves back down to the waist band of your underwear, looping his finger around it.
Rafeās fingers gently tug at your lacy panties, your eyes following the movement. He knew what you wanted, but liked hearing you say it.
āTouch meā¦ā you whisper, flitting your eyes up to his.
āGood girl.ā His smirk widens, satisfaction written on his face. The friction of his thumb against your skin makes your pulse spike before he finally strips them away, off your ankles.
He shifts until heās positioned between your knees, looking down to see his hands sliding up to grip the insides of your thighs to hold you in place.
The first touch of his mouth is agonizingly gentleāa warm press against your sensitive skin that pulls a sharp gasp from your chest. He doesnāt rush, his tongue setting a steady rhythm.
Rafe hums lowly, the vibration earning a quiet whine from you as he gently sucks on your clit, his fingers digging deep into your flesh to hold you still.
His tongue swirls around you with a steady pressure, slipping his fingers inside you.
āRafeā fuck, pleaseāā you whine, your head tossing back against the pillow as your heels dig into the mattress. You feel like youāre about to snap.
Rafe responds with nothing but a groan, vibrations coursing through you again. His smugness is gone, replaced by the need to see you completely undone.
His focus remains on your swollen clit, targeting the sensitive peak while his fingers pump inside you. You can barely breathe. You canāt think.
Your fingers twist in the sheets as the first wave of your orgasm crashes over you, clamping around his fingers.
Rafe doesn't pull away; he laps up every drop of your release, riding out the contractions with long, strokes that send electricity shooting down your legs. He keeps his fingers buried deep, feeling every pulse of your muscles until your hips finally settle and you collapse back onto the bed.
Slowly, he drags himself up your body, leaving a trail of warm kisses along your stomach and ribcage before hovering over your face.
āStill thinking?" he asks, his voice gravelly, a faint, dark smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You shake your head weakly against the pillow, your chest still heaving. Your mind, which had been racing in circles just twenty minutes ago, is completely blank.
"Good." Rafe shifts his weight, pulling the discarded blanket up over both of you before tugging you hard against his side. He pulls you in until your back is flush against his chest, his arm wrapping around your waist, hand resting heavy over your stomach.
He buries his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. You can feel the rapid, unsteady thrum of his heartbeat against your shoulder blades.
"Go to sleep," he mutters against your skin.
His fingers lightly tap a restless rhythm against your hip, a physical reminder of the static always buzzing in his head, but his grip never loosens. Smothered in his heat, his scent, and the absolute finality of his voice, your eyelids finally grow too heavy to fight.
#the shadow acting as bars of a prison cell forcing ilya to hide himself in russia vs the overflowing of light at shane's cottage that allows him a place to be free and completely himself
ā” pairing: garrett graham x f! reader
ā” wc: 3.9k
ā” summary: when a breakup leaves reader hiding away in her apartment, allie decides enough is enough and drags her to a party off campus. she isn't looking for anything, especially not someone new. then garrett graham finds her hiding in a kitchen.
ā” a/n: sorry this one took me awhile, hope y'all enjoy xoxo. based on this request (requests open, btw!)
"Absolutely not," you declared from your corner of the couch, for what had to be the tenth time.
Allie planted herself in your apartment doorway, arms crossed.
Your gaze drifted from the empty bag of Hot Cheetos on the coffee table, sitting beside an empty tissue box, back to her. She hadn't moved an inch.
"Babe," she started, giving your apartment a once-over. "You have spent three consecutive Saturdays watching Love Island and eating frozen waffles."
You furrow your eyebrows, "don't hate on the waffles, they were home made."
Allie scrunched her nose.
"They came from a box."
"Well. Someone made them..."
Allie rolled her eyes, stepping over a few pairs of socks and an empty candy wrapper to take the spot next to you on the couch.
"Missing the point. Please come."
Allie had spent the past few days strategically dropping seeds for a party happening off campus tonight.
On Wednesday, she spent nearly an hour digging through her own closet and offering you a variety of different tops. You saw right through her, Allie never just got rid of her clothes.
On Thursday, she gave you a well timed pep talk over a pint of Ben & Jerry's about how it was time to 'spread your wings' and 'move onto new horizons.'
On Friday, she let it slip there was a party happening. You were in decent spirits, so you said maybe. To Allie, that meant yes.
Now here she stands, Saturday evening. You can't help but slip out a groan.
"He's going to be there."
A few weeks ago, you broke it off with your boyfriend. Considering it was your decision, you almost felt like it shouldn't be effecting you the way it is.
But, Allie had reminded you more than once, just because it was the right decision doesn't mean it was the easy one. She would know.
In this case, it really wasn't you. It was him. Your now ex had zero initiative. Could not have cared less about the things you had to say or any parts of your life you tried to share with him. Every conversation, every date, every bit of effort fell on you.
If you heard 'whatever you want babe' one more time, you were pretty sure you would've lost your mind. You'd been exhausted long before you finally walked away. It simply wasn't worth it anymore.
However, it was familiar.
Allie's expression softened for a second before pushing herself up off the couch. "Probably," she admitted. "Which exactly why you're going."
You stare up at her.
She stares right back.
"Allie..."
"I'm waiting..." she sang, wiggling her fingers expectantly.
With an exaggerated sigh, you finally slipped your hand into hers. She grinned as she pulled you to your feet.
"Perfect!" She beamed. "I'll do your hair, makeup, everything. All the work. Just... find a cute outfit."
āĖ³āĖ³āĖ³āĖ³
The bass thrummed in your ears before the front door even opened. The house was packed. Voices spilled over the music as people squeezed through the foyer with red cups in hand.
Allie holds your hand, half to be comforting, half to ensure you don't run away. You make it past the threshold before stopping dead in your tracks.
"Aw, fuck," you mutter to yourself.
Across the living room, your ex stood laughing with a group of guys, one hand wrapped carelessly around a bottle as if he hadn't turned your last conversation into an Olympic event of blame-shifting.
Allie glances over her shoulder to look at you.
"You don't have to talk to him," she assures you quietly.
"I shouldn't have come."
"You've been here twelve seconds," she rests a hand on your arm. "Stay for one drink. If you're still miserable, I'll leave with you. Promise."
Allie stares at you with pleading eyes, everything else around you turning into a blur.Ā
"Fine," you sigh. "One drink."
"Good," she smiles, before she gets pulled away almost immediately after by one of your classmates.
"Allie, we need you to settle something"
She points at you, "don't move" as she disappears into the crowd before you can protest.
You roll your eyes as Allie slips away from you.Ā
You suck in a deep breath and exhale slowly before trudging off to the kitchen in search for a bowl of punch. Instead, you find bowls of snacks on a sticky counter, already covered in abandoned drinks. Your eyes land on a bowl of pretzels.
At this moment, a small voice in your head begins urging you to turn around and walk out that door; however, the other voice in your head is telling you to stay. You promised Allie. Plus, the bigger part of you knows you can't let this shell of a man control your social life.
You squeeze your eyes shut to kick yourself out of your own head, before a voice snaps you out of it instead.
"You know, the snacks don't bite."
You look over to see a tall guy reaching into the same bowl of pretzels you've been staring at for who knows how long.
You blink.Ā
Beside you is none other than Garrett Graham. Of course. Six-foot-whatever, easy grin - the face plastered across half of the athletic department's social media every season.
"What?"
"The pretzels you're trying to pick a fight with," he reaches into the bowl without a second thought, taking a handful before tossing them into his mouth.
"Oh. No just... planning my escape route," you mumble, pinching a few pretzels between your fingers. Your eyes betray you as your gaze naturally slides to where your ex is standing.
Garrett watches you for a beat, catching the way your shoulders tighten before his gaze follows yours across the room.Ā
"Which one?"Ā
You let out a small sigh, nodding your head towards your ex.
"That guy?"Ā
"Er... yeah."
He hums quietly, his eyes still on him for a moment before looking back at you. "Does he order his chicken plain?"
You blink. "Um, what?"
One corner of Garrett's mouth quirks upward.Ā
"I'm just saying..." he steals another pretzel from the bowl, "bet he 'doesn't really listen to music' either."Ā
A giggle slips out before you can stop it. An accurate assessment.Ā
The corner of his mouth lifts a little higher, like he'd been hoping for exactly that reaction. "Much better."
"What's better?"Ā
He shrugs, popping another pretzel into his mouth as Allie returns, expertly weaving around a group of people with two red solo cups full of punch balanced in her hands.Ā
"Okay, crisis averted. Apparently..."Ā
She stops short as her eyes land on you, before drifting to the tall boy leaning against the kitchen island beside you.
"Allie."
"Graham."
His chin dips in greeting before he pops another pretzel in his mouth, entirely unfazed.Ā
"I leave you alone for ten minutes..." Allie looks at you, handing you a cup before turning to Garrett. "You found my friend."
"Seems I did," he responds, shoving his hand in his pocket.Ā
Her eyebrows furrow as she squints at him. "Okay."
You take a slow sip from your cup, hiding from this interaction best you can. Garrett shifts his weight off the counter, as if he might say something else but doesn't. His gaze flicks to you again.
"Graham!"Ā
As if right on cue, Dean Di Laurentis pops from around the corner and slides his arm around Garrett's shoulders, steering him away from the kitchen.
"Beer pong. You're up."
Garrett barely moves at first, still half-turned. "Hey in a sec-"
"Nope."
Dean yanks him a step backward as Garrett lets out a short laugh under his breath, shaking his head as he finally gives in.Ā
As he's being pulled away, his eyes cut back to you once more. "Save some of those pretzels for me," he calls over his shoulder.
You can't help but smile to yourself and shake your head, reaching into the pretzel bowl once more. Allie's eyes are on you immediately.
"Garrett Graham," she says flatly.
"...Yeah?"Ā
"Was talking to you."
You nod in response, Allie's eyes narrow at you.
"We were just talking, Allie."
"Uh-huh..."Ā
Allie's hand falls to her hip as she pops it out, her eyes don't break contact with yours as she pulls the solo cup to her mouth.
"Allie," you repeat yourself sternly.
"Mmhm," she mumbles, sipping from her cup.Ā
You pop another pretzel into your mouth with your free hand, washing it down with a sip of punch that was a little stronger than you'd hoped.
"Come," Allie grabs your wrist lightly, tugging you away from the kitchen island.
Allie pulls you over to the beer pong table, already surrounded in chaos. Cups are being lined up unevenly, someone on the sidelines arguing over "house rules" that clearly change every five minutes depending on who's winning.
"Alright who needs a fourth" she states as she begins reorganizing the cups.
"Perfect timing," Dean says, "Logan bailed on Graham. Puck bunny."
Garrett snorts, shaking his head.
Before you can take a step back, Allie nudges your elbow with a smile. "Perfect! She's in."
You whip your head toward her, "Allie I never-"
"Too late."
Another guy across the table counts heads, "so, Dean and me with..."
Garrett glances around the group and his eyes settle on you, giving a small nod to the empty spot beside him.
"She'll do."
Your eyebrows shoot up. "I'll do?"
He smiles, just enough to show he's teasing. "Can tell you've got potential."
"I've thrown one ping pong ball in my life."
He shrugs one shoulder as he organizes the cups into a triangle. "Then there's nowhere to go but up."
You fight a smile as you take the spot next to Garrett, accidentally bumping the table with your hip. Before you can react, Garrett is already steadying the edge of the table, "careful."
"Sorry..." you smile sheepishly as he lightly tips a cup away from your elbow so you don't knock it.Ā Ā
Allie spectates from the side of the table, watching your interaction over the rim of her cup.
Garrett grabs the ping pong ball and holds it out to you.Ā
"You get first throw."
You hesitantly take the ball from him, tossing the ball across the table. Then, as you expected, the ball bounces off the edge of the rim of the cup. Miss.
"Alright, I'm retiring."
He grabs your hand and places the second ball in the palm of your hand.
"Nope. Again."
"It's your throw," you sigh. "I've already embarrassed myself."
"You've got at least three more tosses before it becomes embarrassing"
You turn your body to face him, narrowing your eyes. "That's your big pep talk, Captain?"
Garrett's mouth upturns slightly, "it's the best you're getting."
You turn back towards the table and take a deep breath, squinting at the cup in front of Dean. You figure trying to throw further might be the answer.
Wrong.
The ping pong ball sails clean over every cup, Dean plucks it out of the air.
"Too much juice," Garrett mumbles, looking over at you.Ā
"I panicked!"
Dean spins the ball between his fingers, "you trying to hit the DJ?"
A reluctant laugh escapes you before Dean takes his shot, sinking one of the cups immediately. His partner follows it up with another sink.
"Drink up," he shouts from the other end of the table.
You automatically reach for one of the cups with a sigh. Before you can bring it to your lips, Garrett gently taps the rim of your cup with the back of his fingers.
"Pause."Ā
He reaches down to grab his own cup, lightly tapping it against yours.
"To aĀ comeback?"
You smile, "sure."Ā
You both knock back the drink.
"Oh, that's adorable," Dean mumbles to himself, not bothering to hide the smirk that spreads across his face.
Garrett places his empty cup down on the table before reaching for yours.
"Hold still," he murmurs. "Got a little..." his thumb brushes over your nose, wiping away the beer foam. "There."
You didn't have time to react before his hand was gone. He stacks your cup inside his own, then gathers both ping pong balls into one hand. With an absent flick of his wrist, he rolls one between his fingers before offering it to you.
"Garrett," you say firmly.
He smiles, "again. I'll throw the next one, swear."
You let out an exaggerated sigh, taking the ball between your fingers and lining it up.
Garrett shifts beside you, close enough that your shoulders nearly brush. The scent of warm vanilla and dark rum floods your lungs. He dips his head lightly, following your line of sight toward the cups.
"Don't overthink it," he says quietly.
You lock in on the cup at the top of their triangle, gently tossing it forward.
Garrett's arm is lightly slung around your shoulders before you can even realize what happened.
You sunk it.Ā
"Yeahhh there she is!" he laughs, and you can't help laughing with him.
Almost as quickly as it happened, he drops his arm again, reaching for his own ball.Ā
"Alright," he says, rolling his shoulders like nothing unusual had happened. It's so effortless, you're not entirely convinced he even realizes he'd done it.Ā
However, someone else does.
Your eyes land on your exes from across the room, the bottle he's holding hangs loosely from his hand as his eyes flick to Garrett, then settle on you.
Garrett rolls the second ping pong ball between his fingers before letting it fly. It drops cleanly into the center cup.
You're pulled back to the game in front of you as a chorus of groans erupt from the other side of the table.
"Fuck, about time!" Dean points across the table.
"I was lulling you into a false sense of security," Garrett replies easily, taking a sip of his drink.
The game dissolves into the typical chaos you'd expect from a Briar party. As you climb up the scoreboard, Dean starts to insist the table shifted, reaching for more beer to top up the cups before the debate is even settled.
Garrett bumps your shoulder lightly with his own.
"I told you there was nowhere to go but up," he flashes you an easy grin before turning back toward the table.
You can't help but drift your attention back to the corner where your ex is standing with his friends. One of his friends leans over to say something unintelligible, as a few smirks are exchanged. You notice him force a laugh, shaking his head like whatever had been said wasn't worth entertaining.
But yet, his gaze doesn't leave your side of the room.
The game of beer pong stretches on for a few more rounds. You miss, Garrett sinks two, while Dean celebrates like he'd one the Stanley Cup after finally making a redemption shot. You stopped wondering whether leaving early would be less awkward than staying, despite the eyes burning a hole into you.
"Hey."
Garrett's voice cut gently through your thoughts as you turn to look at him. You hadn't realized how your fingers tightened around the red solo cup in your hands.
He tilts his head ever so slightly, his eyes flicking to your cup and then to your face. "You good?"
For half a second, you consider telling him the truth. You pull the cup to your lips to wash that thought away, forcing a small smile. "Yeah."
He studies your face for a quiet beat, "...okay."
Just like that, Garrett lets it go. No questions, no digging. He reaches for another ping pong ball, bouncing it once against the table.
"Ready for redemption?
"Probably not," you smile, reluctantly taking the ball from his hands.
"I admire your honesty, rook."
-
The game eventually breaks apart as people drift toward the living room in search of louder music and fuller drinks.Ā
Dean walks away from the table, biceps flexing as he celebrates his win.
Ā "Alright, I know losing is hard but you gotta pick your heads up," he calls over his shoulder, disappearing towards the drink table.
Garrett snorts, leaning closer so only you can hear.
"Don't worry about him, he's had like... six beers."
Before you can answerāĀ
"Didn't think I'd see you here."
Your stomach knots.Ā
The voice is familiar enough that you don't have to turn around, but you do anyway. Your ex stands about two feet away, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.
He doesn't look angry. Just... uncomfortable.Ā
His eyes flick briefly toward Garrett before settling back on you. Garrett only looks between the two of you once, immediately catching the shift in your expression.
Garrett takes a small step backward, reading the situation. "I'm gonna... go see what Dean's yelling about."
He doesn't wait for either of you to answer, giving you a small nod before disappearing into the crowd. Your eyes follow his back for a brief moment, before remembering you're not alone.Ā
Your ex shifts awkwardly on his feet while the silence stretches between you. Your arms cross your chest, glancing in any direction other than his, rocking back on your own heels.Ā
He lets a short breath out through his nose, "guess you're doing alright."
Your eyebrows knit together. "What?"
His eyes drift toward where Garrett disappeared, "just didn't expect..." he trails off. You wait. Nothing. "Never mind."Ā
The same bubble you felt for weeks before ripping off the band-aid made it's return to your chest.Ā
"No," you say quietly. "Finish your sentence."
He scratches absentmindedly at the back of his neck.
Ā "I just didn't think you'd..." he gestures vaguely toward the other room. "Move on so fast."
For a moment, you almost laugh. Not because it's funny, just because of the absurdity of it. Somehow after months of giving you absolutely nothing, he now finds something to say.
"Move on?" You question, your eyebrows raised.
Your ex shrugs again. The same indifference that used to end every difficult conversation before it ever started. You let out a slow breath.Ā
A familiar hand brushes lightly against your elbow, glancing over to find Allie slipping in next to you, red cup still in hand. Her expression flattens instantly, when she realizes who you're talking to.
You give her a small nod after her eyes flick between the two of you, signaling to her that you're okay. She doesn't leave, keeping her closeness to you.Ā
Not one part of you believes you owe this man any explanation, other than the nerve he suddenly carries within him. Maybe it was the beer.Ā
"I came with Allie,"Ā you say simply. "I was eating pretzels. Alone."Ā
He blinks. Silence.Ā
A small breath leaves your nose as you force yourself out of a reaction, Allie's grip on your elbow tightens for a second. You look over at her as she shoots her eyes to the left, following her gaze to find Garrett slowing to a stop a few feet away.Ā
Garrett glances around the room before looking back at you, his hands are in his pockets. "They're threatening to replace us..."Ā
A beat.Ā
"Unless..." he scratches the back of his neck before letting his hand drop back down to his side. "... you guys are talking."
There's no pressure in his voice. The choice is entirely yours to make. You look between him and your ex.
"No," you answer a little quicker than you meant to. "I'm finished."Ā
Garrett simply nods, keeping his eyes on you. "Cool."
He turns on his heel, checking back around his shoulder making sure you follow. You look back at your ex one more time, still standing there, not saying a word.Ā
Allie grips your elbow as she falls into step next to you as you catch up to Garrett.
Suddenly, the warmth of the house starts to feel overwhelming. The noise, the people, all of it.
"I need some air," you say quietly.
Garrett doesn't miss a beat, "I'll come with you."
You look over at Allie. Not necessarily asking for permission, just checking.Ā She responds with tiny nod of her head. Small enough only you could notice as she loosens her grip on your elbow.
Garrett tips his head toward the back door as you follow behind him, leading you out to the deck.Ā
The door shuts behind you, muting the music to a distant hum. Crickets chirp as the breeze ruffles through the leaves, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. The two of you walk towards the edge of the deck, leaning over the railing as you looked out into the yard. For a moment, neither of you say anything.Ā
You expected this entire night to feel different. Expected the tightness in your chest to remain, expected the ache. But you didn't feel that at all.Ā
"Garrett?" you question softly, breaking the silence. He looks over at you attentively, giving you space to continue.
"Thanks for not asking."Ā
Garrett furrows his eyebrows, "hm?"
"About him," you continue quietly with a small shrug. "You didn't ask what happened. Make me explain.."
"Didn't seem like you wanted to." His gaze flickers toward the trees before returning to you. "But if you change your mind..."
You smile faintly. You probably won't, but you appreciate the option.Ā
"Can't believe you convinced me to keep playing beer pong after I sucked so bad..." you say softly, glancing down with a smile as you fiddle with the bracelets on your wrist.
"You're welcome for helping you discover your hidden talent," he chuckles, his gaze dropped to your hands.
"Hidden talent?"Ā
"Absolutely."
You roll your eyes playfully, letting a quiet giggle slip out of you. Maybe it's because the night has finally caught up with you, or maybe it's because you spent so long bracing yourself for the next uncomfortable moment. But standing there with him feels... easy.Ā
The conversation fades. You stand beside him, shoulders almost touching, watching the leaves ruffle against each other. For once, you aren't thinking about what you're supposed to say. You aren't replaying the conversation with your ex or wondering if you made the right choice.Ā
You're just here. With him.Ā
When you turn to look at him, he's already looking at you.
Your eyes land on his, watching his gaze flick down to your lips for a moment before returning to yours.
Suddenly, the space between you feels a lot smaller than it did a moment ago. It makes your heart stutter.Ā
Garrett shifts slightly closer, giving you every opportunity to pull away.
Your breath catches.
Somewhere inside the house, you vaguely register Allie's voice.Ā
"Dean, dont-"
Thenā
"There you are!"
You and Garrett both jump.
Garrett immediately leans back, blinking toward the doorway as Dean steps out onto the back deck with a triumphant grin plastered across his face.
A second later, Allie appears behind him, stopping short the moment she takes in the scene.
She closes her eyes. "I tried."
Dean looks between the three of you, brows furrowing.
"You barreled outside the door like a Labrador that heard the treat bag."
Dean scoffs, "first of all, rude."
"I was actively trying to stop you," Allie mutters at him through gritted teeth. Dean follows her pointed look toward you and Garrett as his eyebrows slowly climb.
"....Oh."
Garrett lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Don't..."
Dean's hands immediately lift in surrender. "I didn't say anything."
Allie raises an eyebrow, "your face did."
"I'm just expressive."
"No, you're annoying," she bites back before nudging his shoulder, slipping back into the house.Ā
Dean rolls his eyes, then claps his hands. "Alright, Graham. I've already slaughtered this moment and I need a beer pong partner, and it's you."Ā
"Think I'm done with pong..."
He walks up to Garrett, clapping his hand on his shoulder. "The night is still young, Captain."Ā
A small smile pulls at Garrett's lips, "you really don't quit do you?"Ā
"Nope," he starts back toward the door, confident Garrett will follow.Ā
Garrett shakes his head, but before he turns away, his eyes find yours again. Suddenly, you're pulled back into that same quiet space as before. The one that felt like it belonged to the two of you.
"See you inside?"Ā
It's not a question, not really.
You nod. "Maybe..."Ā
Something shifts in his expression. The smallest hint of a smile.
"I'll take maybe."
Ā Garrett holds your gaze for one more second, before turning away, disappearing back into the house.
And for the first time all night, leaving doesn't sound like the best option.
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