Vladimir Nabokov, tr. by Olga Voronina & Brian Boyd, from Letters to VĂ©ra
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Read, read, read. Read everything -- trash, classics, good and bad, and see how they do it. Just like a carpenter who works as an apprentice and studies the master. Read! You'll absorb it. Then write. If it's good, you'll find out. If it's not, throw it out of the window.
â William Faulkner.
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I don't know if you do these. If not just delete it. đ
send me a made-up fic title and i'll tell you what i would write to go with it.....
"Her White Tablecloth"
Omfg; thank you girly.
The fic would be about Johnny and his wife, newlyweds. She's a traditional wife who loves getting the house all pretty and fancy. Full four-course meals, etc. Her white tablecloth from Fancy was her latest pride and joy. She doesn't allow anything and anyone to put their drinks or food on it. She wanted to keep it pristine and pretty for as long as possible. Johnny being Johnny grew tired of that and loved to tease her. One day the jokester came up with the ultimate plan. He painted himself in edible paint and laid on the table. this would be a smut fic for sure with comedy
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MI MAMITA!!! Como tĂș ta? I hope youâre well, miss you on here đ«¶đœ
Hola amor! I've missed being on here as well and I have been posting content to get back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy what I've cooked up so far
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@lovedlover make sure you send it in the ask box love so I can write the drabble there
SEND ONE OF THE NUMBERS AND ILL DO A SMALL DRABBLE BIT FOR WHICHEVER MAN YOUD LIKE
Rio
Angel
COCO
JOHNNY
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Thank you so much love ! Beth has gotten herself in a world of troubles and doesn't even know it!
Beacon Of Light
A Rio Good Girls Fanfictional Mini Series.
âCoño!â Lupita cursed as the wind had been knocked out of her.
âIâm so sorry! Iâm such a clutz at times.â Beth quickly apologized as she began helping the woman up.
The ditzy floral dress that had once been spotless had now been stained with muddy-brown coffee stains and dirt residue. Lupitaâs plump lips were now shaped into a permanent pout as she narrowed her eyebrows while looking down. Beth watched the woman closely. Deep down, in the back of her mind Beth could superficially see why a man like Rio had chosen Lupita to be his wife.
The beauty of the curvy woman before her was undeniable. Her ample, full breasts, pudgy stomach, chubby cheeks with her baby-ish face, widened hips, and outward curved rear oozes sensuality. Her curves accentuate the natural form of femininity and exude a sense of softness and allure that could catch the attention of anyone and make them stare. She has a unique and captivating beauty that reminds Beth of the freshness and vibrancy of the season of spring.
Beth had been staring so long that she hadnât noticed the switch between Lupitaâs angered expression to bright and bubbly. âItâs fine. Happens to me all the time.â her chrippy tone had taken Beth by surprise. It was juvenile. It made the Boland woman want to laugh.
But instead of laughing, she smiled and offeredâ Well let me treat you to a coffee then. Make up for the one I ruined.â
Beth watched like a hawk as Lupita curled her bottom lip inward. Staying quiet for a moment, Lupita thought of what she would do. After a few seconds of silence, she replied âWhat cafe? I can meet you there after I change?â
Lupitaâs eyebrow slightly arched as she watched Bethâs blue eyes begin to widen. She found that action odd.
âItâs my treat to you so you should pick the place.â Beth insisted. Despite her smiling face, she was freaking out frantically on the inside. She hadnât been to this area before. She knew nothing.
âMoeâs is fine. Right around that corner there.â Lupita replied with a raise of her hand and a point of her finger in that direction. Bethâs eyes followed the finger before she nodded her head.
âOkay, Iâm Brenda by the way.â Beth lied as she extended her hand out.
âLupita, Nice to meet you Brenda. Iâll see you soon.â Despite Lupitaâs upbeat tone, her words were sharp and short. She hadnât even awaited a response when she turned on her heel and strutted off in the opposite direction.
âThat was weird. What a weirdo.â Beth quietly whispered to herself.
Lupita on the other hand had begun rushing home. Her face grew hot, her cheeks began to redden, and her hands balled into fists. âMessy, messy, messy, stupid, stupid, stupidâ she mumbled under her breath as she walked down the streets and soon entered her neighborhood, Rodgerâs ridge. Located on the nicer part of Chicago,
The upscale neighborhood was a picture of elegance. The houses were big, with elegant mansions lined up along the streets and the lawns were manicured. Amidst the blooming flower gardens that perfumed the air, the sound of dogs barking harmoniously added a touch of homeliness to the otherwise stately atmosphere. The residents, dressed in designer attire, strolled with their leashed companions, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. The neighborhood was a tapestry woven with sophistication and the finer things in life.
Lupita worked quickly to enter the home that she shared with her husband, Christopher. Their home was an old Victorian style one but theyâd had it modernized with a slick, black minimalistic aesthetic. As soon as the front doors closed, She let out a scream. Her purse fell to the floor with a âthudâ and her shoes flew across the floor as she kicked them off.
Lupita then went rushing into the downstairs bathroom as her long-nailed fingers clawed at her dirty attire. She tore holes into it as she ripped it off her body in disgust. Her narrowed eyes stared down at the filth covered clothing is disdain but soon the look dwindled when she inhaled the relaxing aroma of lavender and spearmint.
Their bathroom was a symphony of natural elegance. The rose quartz shower had a warm, inviting glow, promising an invigorating and ethereal experience. The botanical shower is a sanctuary of freshness, where lush greenery and refreshing scents create a spa-like oasis. Underfoot, the marble floors gleam, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lighting. Every element in this bathroom is designed to create a serene and indulgent atmosphere, where Lupita, Christopher, or a guest could relax, rejuvenate, and escape the stresses of everyday life.
And that was what Lupita did. Despite being militant with getting her body cleaned properly, she mentally and physically relaxed. âCleanliness is next to godliness.â she thought to herself as she washed off. It didnât take much longer for her to finish up her shower and get ready to get coffee.
This time around, she chose to wear a velour baby-blue tracksuit. Her bouncy coils glistened with gel as she made her way into the coffee shop. âMy apologies, getting ready does take time.â Lupita said to Beth as she sat across from her.
âItâs fine. I know all too well.â Beth assured her, despite her annoyance.
Lupitaâs eyes skimmed the Boland woman from top to Bossom. A meek smile chiseled her lips, âDo you really?â she questioned. Her eyes looked downward towards the menu that laid up on the table.
Beth felt uneasy and sat speechless. She didnât know what to make of Lupita. So, instead of saying something that could compromise her position; Beth sat quietly.
âSo, did you just move to the neighborhood, Brenda? I canât say Iâve seen you around the neighborhood before.â Lupita asked as she turned the menu over.
âNo. I actually wanted to venture outside the inner city more often and needed up here. I am beginning to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the neighborhood.â Beth replied. Her lies come out smoother than the truth. âI take it you live around here?â
âI do.â A genuine smile spread across Lupita, âMy beloved and I have lived here for a while now. Are you married?â
A look of disdain had flashed across Bethâs face as she thought of her ex-husband, Dean. No longer being a wife was both rejuvenating and sorrowful at the same time. And the notion boggled her mind. âNo, not anymore.â
Beth had expected Lupita to pry but she didnât. Not even once. Instead, she brushed over the topic all together and segwayed into fashion. The latest styles sheâd seen in Elle magazine. Beth easily became indulged in the conversation. Almost hanging onto every word that Luputa uttered. That was until they were interrupted by the sound of Lupitaâs phone going off.
âExcuse me for a moment.â Lupita said with a smile. She then proceeded to turn to the side as she held the phone to her ear,âHello my love, how are you?â Her voice rose a few octaves with a squeal chasing behind her words.
Beth watched closely, never veering her eyes away. Not even for a moment.
âWhere are you?â His voice was smooth as aged whiskey. It tickled Lupitaâs ears and made her heart flutter. But his words were sharp and straight to the point. As he always was.
Lupita briefly glanced at Beth before looking down into her lap, âIâm shopping for new cookware but stopped to grab a latte.â
âAlone?â
Lupita paused. Unsure if she should tell the truth or not. But, as both she and Christopher knew, telling the truth didnât always lead to good things. And oftentimes led to fights or unwanted deaths.
âYes. Itâs just a little busy here. Lunchtime or whatever.â She replied dismissively.
Beth raised her left eyebrow. She felt the need to almost speak up to see what would happen next. She couldnât hear the voice on the other end of the line but given how Lupita brightened up, She assumed it was Rio.
âIâll call you at 3:30. Youâll be home, yea?â Despite it coming off as a question, Lupita had known it wasnât one.
âYes. Te Amo Para Sempre .â
âTe Amo Para Sempre Mi Princesa.â Even behind his cold exterior and militant personality, Christopher could never deny telling Lupita he loved her. It made his heart warm and the edges of his lips curved into a smile.
When they both ended the call, Lupitaâs lips were still placed in a smiling position. Beth clearing her throat caused Lupita to snap out of her daydreaming state. âSorry, did you say something?â
Bethâs lips quivered. Fighting back the urge to ask the question that burned the tip of her tongue. But, she knew she had to be patient and proceeded with caution. So instead of saying something ill-willed, she said âI asked if you have to go now.â
âUnfortunately I do.â Luputa smiled meekly. She then rolled her phone across the table,âPut your number in and we can do this again sometime.â
âSure â Beth smiled as she took the phone. As she began punching her digits into the device, she askedâHow about we get tacos next time? A woman named Rhea told me about one called El Pico right on the harbor. I think it's a mom and pop shop.â Beth watched Luputa closely.
The name Rhea made Lupuita halt from packing away the items she carried in her purse. Her left eye began to twitch and her eyelashes fluttered. It was as if she were beginning to malfunction. She took a deep, dry gulp and licked over her pink-lipstick painted lips.
âNever heard of it.â She extended her arm outward and opened her hand.
âOh. Well maybe we can experience it together.â Beth replied as she laid the cellular device into Luputa 's hand.
âSorry. I'm not a fan of Mexican food. But, maybe something else. I'll text you.â Lupuita swiftly placed her phone into her purse. She then gave a tight-lipped smile as she stood up. Shortly leaving after.
Once the woman had been out of sight, Beth pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Agent Turner.
đČ The 'wife' knows about Rhea. I mentioned it and she looked disturbed. No doubt now that Rio killed her and perhaps Lupuita is covering it up
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send them in please!
SEND ONE OF THE NUMBERS AND ILL DO A SMALL DRABBLE BIT FOR WHICHEVER MAN YOUD LIKE
Rio
Angel
COCO
JOHNNY
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SEND ONE OF THE NUMBERS AND ILL DO A SMALL DRABBLE BIT FOR WHICHEVER MAN YOUD LIKE
Rio
Angel
COCO
JOHNNY
12 notes
·
View notes
@lovedlover GIRLY I ALWAYS LOOK FORWARD TO YOUR REVIEW! You nailed it!
Beacon Of Light
A Rio Good Girls Fanfictional Mini Series.
âCoño!â Lupita cursed as the wind had been knocked out of her.
âIâm so sorry! Iâm such a clutz at times.â Beth quickly apologized as she began helping the woman up.
The ditzy floral dress that had once been spotless had now been stained with muddy-brown coffee stains and dirt residue. Lupitaâs plump lips were now shaped into a permanent pout as she narrowed her eyebrows while looking down. Beth watched the woman closely. Deep down, in the back of her mind Beth could superficially see why a man like Rio had chosen Lupita to be his wife.
The beauty of the curvy woman before her was undeniable. Her ample, full breasts, pudgy stomach, chubby cheeks with her baby-ish face, widened hips, and outward curved rear oozes sensuality. Her curves accentuate the natural form of femininity and exude a sense of softness and allure that could catch the attention of anyone and make them stare. She has a unique and captivating beauty that reminds Beth of the freshness and vibrancy of the season of spring.
Beth had been staring so long that she hadnât noticed the switch between Lupitaâs angered expression to bright and bubbly. âItâs fine. Happens to me all the time.â her chrippy tone had taken Beth by surprise. It was juvenile. It made the Boland woman want to laugh.
But instead of laughing, she smiled and offeredâ Well let me treat you to a coffee then. Make up for the one I ruined.â
Beth watched like a hawk as Lupita curled her bottom lip inward. Staying quiet for a moment, Lupita thought of what she would do. After a few seconds of silence, she replied âWhat cafe? I can meet you there after I change?â
Lupitaâs eyebrow slightly arched as she watched Bethâs blue eyes begin to widen. She found that action odd.
âItâs my treat to you so you should pick the place.â Beth insisted. Despite her smiling face, she was freaking out frantically on the inside. She hadnât been to this area before. She knew nothing.
âMoeâs is fine. Right around that corner there.â Lupita replied with a raise of her hand and a point of her finger in that direction. Bethâs eyes followed the finger before she nodded her head.
âOkay, Iâm Brenda by the way.â Beth lied as she extended her hand out.
âLupita, Nice to meet you Brenda. Iâll see you soon.â Despite Lupitaâs upbeat tone, her words were sharp and short. She hadnât even awaited a response when she turned on her heel and strutted off in the opposite direction.
âThat was weird. What a weirdo.â Beth quietly whispered to herself.
Lupita on the other hand had begun rushing home. Her face grew hot, her cheeks began to redden, and her hands balled into fists. âMessy, messy, messy, stupid, stupid, stupidâ she mumbled under her breath as she walked down the streets and soon entered her neighborhood, Rodgerâs ridge. Located on the nicer part of Chicago,
The upscale neighborhood was a picture of elegance. The houses were big, with elegant mansions lined up along the streets and the lawns were manicured. Amidst the blooming flower gardens that perfumed the air, the sound of dogs barking harmoniously added a touch of homeliness to the otherwise stately atmosphere. The residents, dressed in designer attire, strolled with their leashed companions, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. The neighborhood was a tapestry woven with sophistication and the finer things in life.
Lupita worked quickly to enter the home that she shared with her husband, Christopher. Their home was an old Victorian style one but theyâd had it modernized with a slick, black minimalistic aesthetic. As soon as the front doors closed, She let out a scream. Her purse fell to the floor with a âthudâ and her shoes flew across the floor as she kicked them off.
Lupita then went rushing into the downstairs bathroom as her long-nailed fingers clawed at her dirty attire. She tore holes into it as she ripped it off her body in disgust. Her narrowed eyes stared down at the filth covered clothing is disdain but soon the look dwindled when she inhaled the relaxing aroma of lavender and spearmint.
Their bathroom was a symphony of natural elegance. The rose quartz shower had a warm, inviting glow, promising an invigorating and ethereal experience. The botanical shower is a sanctuary of freshness, where lush greenery and refreshing scents create a spa-like oasis. Underfoot, the marble floors gleam, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lighting. Every element in this bathroom is designed to create a serene and indulgent atmosphere, where Lupita, Christopher, or a guest could relax, rejuvenate, and escape the stresses of everyday life.
And that was what Lupita did. Despite being militant with getting her body cleaned properly, she mentally and physically relaxed. âCleanliness is next to godliness.â she thought to herself as she washed off. It didnât take much longer for her to finish up her shower and get ready to get coffee.
This time around, she chose to wear a velour baby-blue tracksuit. Her bouncy coils glistened with gel as she made her way into the coffee shop. âMy apologies, getting ready does take time.â Lupita said to Beth as she sat across from her.
âItâs fine. I know all too well.â Beth assured her, despite her annoyance.
Lupitaâs eyes skimmed the Boland woman from top to Bossom. A meek smile chiseled her lips, âDo you really?â she questioned. Her eyes looked downward towards the menu that laid up on the table.
Beth felt uneasy and sat speechless. She didnât know what to make of Lupita. So, instead of saying something that could compromise her position; Beth sat quietly.
âSo, did you just move to the neighborhood, Brenda? I canât say Iâve seen you around the neighborhood before.â Lupita asked as she turned the menu over.
âNo. I actually wanted to venture outside the inner city more often and needed up here. I am beginning to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the neighborhood.â Beth replied. Her lies come out smoother than the truth. âI take it you live around here?â
âI do.â A genuine smile spread across Lupita, âMy beloved and I have lived here for a while now. Are you married?â
A look of disdain had flashed across Bethâs face as she thought of her ex-husband, Dean. No longer being a wife was both rejuvenating and sorrowful at the same time. And the notion boggled her mind. âNo, not anymore.â
Beth had expected Lupita to pry but she didnât. Not even once. Instead, she brushed over the topic all together and segwayed into fashion. The latest styles sheâd seen in Elle magazine. Beth easily became indulged in the conversation. Almost hanging onto every word that Luputa uttered. That was until they were interrupted by the sound of Lupitaâs phone going off.
âExcuse me for a moment.â Lupita said with a smile. She then proceeded to turn to the side as she held the phone to her ear,âHello my love, how are you?â Her voice rose a few octaves with a squeal chasing behind her words.
Beth watched closely, never veering her eyes away. Not even for a moment.
âWhere are you?â His voice was smooth as aged whiskey. It tickled Lupitaâs ears and made her heart flutter. But his words were sharp and straight to the point. As he always was.
Lupita briefly glanced at Beth before looking down into her lap, âIâm shopping for new cookware but stopped to grab a latte.â
âAlone?â
Lupita paused. Unsure if she should tell the truth or not. But, as both she and Christopher knew, telling the truth didnât always lead to good things. And oftentimes led to fights or unwanted deaths.
âYes. Itâs just a little busy here. Lunchtime or whatever.â She replied dismissively.
Beth raised her left eyebrow. She felt the need to almost speak up to see what would happen next. She couldnât hear the voice on the other end of the line but given how Lupita brightened up, She assumed it was Rio.
âIâll call you at 3:30. Youâll be home, yea?â Despite it coming off as a question, Lupita had known it wasnât one.
âYes. Te Amo Para Sempre .â
âTe Amo Para Sempre Mi Princesa.â Even behind his cold exterior and militant personality, Christopher could never deny telling Lupita he loved her. It made his heart warm and the edges of his lips curved into a smile.
When they both ended the call, Lupitaâs lips were still placed in a smiling position. Beth clearing her throat caused Lupita to snap out of her daydreaming state. âSorry, did you say something?â
Bethâs lips quivered. Fighting back the urge to ask the question that burned the tip of her tongue. But, she knew she had to be patient and proceeded with caution. So instead of saying something ill-willed, she said âI asked if you have to go now.â
âUnfortunately I do.â Luputa smiled meekly. She then rolled her phone across the table,âPut your number in and we can do this again sometime.â
âSure â Beth smiled as she took the phone. As she began punching her digits into the device, she askedâHow about we get tacos next time? A woman named Rhea told me about one called El Pico right on the harbor. I think it's a mom and pop shop.â Beth watched Luputa closely.
The name Rhea made Lupuita halt from packing away the items she carried in her purse. Her left eye began to twitch and her eyelashes fluttered. It was as if she were beginning to malfunction. She took a deep, dry gulp and licked over her pink-lipstick painted lips.
âNever heard of it.â She extended her arm outward and opened her hand.
âOh. Well maybe we can experience it together.â Beth replied as she laid the cellular device into Luputa 's hand.
âSorry. I'm not a fan of Mexican food. But, maybe something else. I'll text you.â Lupuita swiftly placed her phone into her purse. She then gave a tight-lipped smile as she stood up. Shortly leaving after.
Once the woman had been out of sight, Beth pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Agent Turner.
đČ The 'wife' knows about Rhea. I mentioned it and she looked disturbed. No doubt now that Rio killed her and perhaps Lupuita is covering it up
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Working on chapter one of Baby 2nite
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He wants you home, Lee-lee, where you belong.
LEAH CLEARWATER aka most badass woman in the twilight universe.
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@nobodygetsza girl đđđ lmfao same she doesn't know who she's fucking with
Beacon Of Light
A Rio Good Girls Fanfictional Mini Series.
âCoño!â Lupita cursed as the wind had been knocked out of her.
âIâm so sorry! Iâm such a clutz at times.â Beth quickly apologized as she began helping the woman up.
The ditzy floral dress that had once been spotless had now been stained with muddy-brown coffee stains and dirt residue. Lupitaâs plump lips were now shaped into a permanent pout as she narrowed her eyebrows while looking down. Beth watched the woman closely. Deep down, in the back of her mind Beth could superficially see why a man like Rio had chosen Lupita to be his wife.
The beauty of the curvy woman before her was undeniable. Her ample, full breasts, pudgy stomach, chubby cheeks with her baby-ish face, widened hips, and outward curved rear oozes sensuality. Her curves accentuate the natural form of femininity and exude a sense of softness and allure that could catch the attention of anyone and make them stare. She has a unique and captivating beauty that reminds Beth of the freshness and vibrancy of the season of spring.
Beth had been staring so long that she hadnât noticed the switch between Lupitaâs angered expression to bright and bubbly. âItâs fine. Happens to me all the time.â her chrippy tone had taken Beth by surprise. It was juvenile. It made the Boland woman want to laugh.
But instead of laughing, she smiled and offeredâ Well let me treat you to a coffee then. Make up for the one I ruined.â
Beth watched like a hawk as Lupita curled her bottom lip inward. Staying quiet for a moment, Lupita thought of what she would do. After a few seconds of silence, she replied âWhat cafe? I can meet you there after I change?â
Lupitaâs eyebrow slightly arched as she watched Bethâs blue eyes begin to widen. She found that action odd.
âItâs my treat to you so you should pick the place.â Beth insisted. Despite her smiling face, she was freaking out frantically on the inside. She hadnât been to this area before. She knew nothing.
âMoeâs is fine. Right around that corner there.â Lupita replied with a raise of her hand and a point of her finger in that direction. Bethâs eyes followed the finger before she nodded her head.
âOkay, Iâm Brenda by the way.â Beth lied as she extended her hand out.
âLupita, Nice to meet you Brenda. Iâll see you soon.â Despite Lupitaâs upbeat tone, her words were sharp and short. She hadnât even awaited a response when she turned on her heel and strutted off in the opposite direction.
âThat was weird. What a weirdo.â Beth quietly whispered to herself.
Lupita on the other hand had begun rushing home. Her face grew hot, her cheeks began to redden, and her hands balled into fists. âMessy, messy, messy, stupid, stupid, stupidâ she mumbled under her breath as she walked down the streets and soon entered her neighborhood, Rodgerâs ridge. Located on the nicer part of Chicago,
The upscale neighborhood was a picture of elegance. The houses were big, with elegant mansions lined up along the streets and the lawns were manicured. Amidst the blooming flower gardens that perfumed the air, the sound of dogs barking harmoniously added a touch of homeliness to the otherwise stately atmosphere. The residents, dressed in designer attire, strolled with their leashed companions, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. The neighborhood was a tapestry woven with sophistication and the finer things in life.
Lupita worked quickly to enter the home that she shared with her husband, Christopher. Their home was an old Victorian style one but theyâd had it modernized with a slick, black minimalistic aesthetic. As soon as the front doors closed, She let out a scream. Her purse fell to the floor with a âthudâ and her shoes flew across the floor as she kicked them off.
Lupita then went rushing into the downstairs bathroom as her long-nailed fingers clawed at her dirty attire. She tore holes into it as she ripped it off her body in disgust. Her narrowed eyes stared down at the filth covered clothing is disdain but soon the look dwindled when she inhaled the relaxing aroma of lavender and spearmint.
Their bathroom was a symphony of natural elegance. The rose quartz shower had a warm, inviting glow, promising an invigorating and ethereal experience. The botanical shower is a sanctuary of freshness, where lush greenery and refreshing scents create a spa-like oasis. Underfoot, the marble floors gleam, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lighting. Every element in this bathroom is designed to create a serene and indulgent atmosphere, where Lupita, Christopher, or a guest could relax, rejuvenate, and escape the stresses of everyday life.
And that was what Lupita did. Despite being militant with getting her body cleaned properly, she mentally and physically relaxed. âCleanliness is next to godliness.â she thought to herself as she washed off. It didnât take much longer for her to finish up her shower and get ready to get coffee.
This time around, she chose to wear a velour baby-blue tracksuit. Her bouncy coils glistened with gel as she made her way into the coffee shop. âMy apologies, getting ready does take time.â Lupita said to Beth as she sat across from her.
âItâs fine. I know all too well.â Beth assured her, despite her annoyance.
Lupitaâs eyes skimmed the Boland woman from top to Bossom. A meek smile chiseled her lips, âDo you really?â she questioned. Her eyes looked downward towards the menu that laid up on the table.
Beth felt uneasy and sat speechless. She didnât know what to make of Lupita. So, instead of saying something that could compromise her position; Beth sat quietly.
âSo, did you just move to the neighborhood, Brenda? I canât say Iâve seen you around the neighborhood before.â Lupita asked as she turned the menu over.
âNo. I actually wanted to venture outside the inner city more often and needed up here. I am beginning to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the neighborhood.â Beth replied. Her lies come out smoother than the truth. âI take it you live around here?â
âI do.â A genuine smile spread across Lupita, âMy beloved and I have lived here for a while now. Are you married?â
A look of disdain had flashed across Bethâs face as she thought of her ex-husband, Dean. No longer being a wife was both rejuvenating and sorrowful at the same time. And the notion boggled her mind. âNo, not anymore.â
Beth had expected Lupita to pry but she didnât. Not even once. Instead, she brushed over the topic all together and segwayed into fashion. The latest styles sheâd seen in Elle magazine. Beth easily became indulged in the conversation. Almost hanging onto every word that Luputa uttered. That was until they were interrupted by the sound of Lupitaâs phone going off.
âExcuse me for a moment.â Lupita said with a smile. She then proceeded to turn to the side as she held the phone to her ear,âHello my love, how are you?â Her voice rose a few octaves with a squeal chasing behind her words.
Beth watched closely, never veering her eyes away. Not even for a moment.
âWhere are you?â His voice was smooth as aged whiskey. It tickled Lupitaâs ears and made her heart flutter. But his words were sharp and straight to the point. As he always was.
Lupita briefly glanced at Beth before looking down into her lap, âIâm shopping for new cookware but stopped to grab a latte.â
âAlone?â
Lupita paused. Unsure if she should tell the truth or not. But, as both she and Christopher knew, telling the truth didnât always lead to good things. And oftentimes led to fights or unwanted deaths.
âYes. Itâs just a little busy here. Lunchtime or whatever.â She replied dismissively.
Beth raised her left eyebrow. She felt the need to almost speak up to see what would happen next. She couldnât hear the voice on the other end of the line but given how Lupita brightened up, She assumed it was Rio.
âIâll call you at 3:30. Youâll be home, yea?â Despite it coming off as a question, Lupita had known it wasnât one.
âYes. Te Amo Para Sempre .â
âTe Amo Para Sempre Mi Princesa.â Even behind his cold exterior and militant personality, Christopher could never deny telling Lupita he loved her. It made his heart warm and the edges of his lips curved into a smile.
When they both ended the call, Lupitaâs lips were still placed in a smiling position. Beth clearing her throat caused Lupita to snap out of her daydreaming state. âSorry, did you say something?â
Bethâs lips quivered. Fighting back the urge to ask the question that burned the tip of her tongue. But, she knew she had to be patient and proceeded with caution. So instead of saying something ill-willed, she said âI asked if you have to go now.â
âUnfortunately I do.â Luputa smiled meekly. She then rolled her phone across the table,âPut your number in and we can do this again sometime.â
âSure â Beth smiled as she took the phone. As she began punching her digits into the device, she askedâHow about we get tacos next time? A woman named Rhea told me about one called El Pico right on the harbor. I think it's a mom and pop shop.â Beth watched Luputa closely.
The name Rhea made Lupuita halt from packing away the items she carried in her purse. Her left eye began to twitch and her eyelashes fluttered. It was as if she were beginning to malfunction. She took a deep, dry gulp and licked over her pink-lipstick painted lips.
âNever heard of it.â She extended her arm outward and opened her hand.
âOh. Well maybe we can experience it together.â Beth replied as she laid the cellular device into Luputa 's hand.
âSorry. I'm not a fan of Mexican food. But, maybe something else. I'll text you.â Lupuita swiftly placed her phone into her purse. She then gave a tight-lipped smile as she stood up. Shortly leaving after.
Once the woman had been out of sight, Beth pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Agent Turner.
đČ The 'wife' knows about Rhea. I mentioned it and she looked disturbed. No doubt now that Rio killed her and perhaps Lupuita is covering it up
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Beacon Of Light
A Rio Good Girls Fanfictional Mini Series.
âCoño!â Lupita cursed as the wind had been knocked out of her.
âIâm so sorry! Iâm such a clutz at times.â Beth quickly apologized as she began helping the woman up.
The ditzy floral dress that had once been spotless had now been stained with muddy-brown coffee stains and dirt residue. Lupitaâs plump lips were now shaped into a permanent pout as she narrowed her eyebrows while looking down. Beth watched the woman closely. Deep down, in the back of her mind Beth could superficially see why a man like Rio had chosen Lupita to be his wife.
The beauty of the curvy woman before her was undeniable. Her ample, full breasts, pudgy stomach, chubby cheeks with her baby-ish face, widened hips, and outward curved rear oozes sensuality. Her curves accentuate the natural form of femininity and exude a sense of softness and allure that could catch the attention of anyone and make them stare. She has a unique and captivating beauty that reminds Beth of the freshness and vibrancy of the season of spring.
Beth had been staring so long that she hadnât noticed the switch between Lupitaâs angered expression to bright and bubbly. âItâs fine. Happens to me all the time.â her chrippy tone had taken Beth by surprise. It was juvenile. It made the Boland woman want to laugh.
But instead of laughing, she smiled and offeredâ Well let me treat you to a coffee then. Make up for the one I ruined.â
Beth watched like a hawk as Lupita curled her bottom lip inward. Staying quiet for a moment, Lupita thought of what she would do. After a few seconds of silence, she replied âWhat cafe? I can meet you there after I change?â
Lupitaâs eyebrow slightly arched as she watched Bethâs blue eyes begin to widen. She found that action odd.
âItâs my treat to you so you should pick the place.â Beth insisted. Despite her smiling face, she was freaking out frantically on the inside. She hadnât been to this area before. She knew nothing.
âMoeâs is fine. Right around that corner there.â Lupita replied with a raise of her hand and a point of her finger in that direction. Bethâs eyes followed the finger before she nodded her head.
âOkay, Iâm Brenda by the way.â Beth lied as she extended her hand out.
âLupita, Nice to meet you Brenda. Iâll see you soon.â Despite Lupitaâs upbeat tone, her words were sharp and short. She hadnât even awaited a response when she turned on her heel and strutted off in the opposite direction.
âThat was weird. What a weirdo.â Beth quietly whispered to herself.
Lupita on the other hand had begun rushing home. Her face grew hot, her cheeks began to redden, and her hands balled into fists. âMessy, messy, messy, stupid, stupid, stupidâ she mumbled under her breath as she walked down the streets and soon entered her neighborhood, Rodgerâs ridge. Located on the nicer part of Chicago,
The upscale neighborhood was a picture of elegance. The houses were big, with elegant mansions lined up along the streets and the lawns were manicured. Amidst the blooming flower gardens that perfumed the air, the sound of dogs barking harmoniously added a touch of homeliness to the otherwise stately atmosphere. The residents, dressed in designer attire, strolled with their leashed companions, adding a touch of elegance to the scene. The neighborhood was a tapestry woven with sophistication and the finer things in life.
Lupita worked quickly to enter the home that she shared with her husband, Christopher. Their home was an old Victorian style one but theyâd had it modernized with a slick, black minimalistic aesthetic. As soon as the front doors closed, She let out a scream. Her purse fell to the floor with a âthudâ and her shoes flew across the floor as she kicked them off.
Lupita then went rushing into the downstairs bathroom as her long-nailed fingers clawed at her dirty attire. She tore holes into it as she ripped it off her body in disgust. Her narrowed eyes stared down at the filth covered clothing is disdain but soon the look dwindled when she inhaled the relaxing aroma of lavender and spearmint.
Their bathroom was a symphony of natural elegance. The rose quartz shower had a warm, inviting glow, promising an invigorating and ethereal experience. The botanical shower is a sanctuary of freshness, where lush greenery and refreshing scents create a spa-like oasis. Underfoot, the marble floors gleam, reflecting the soft glow of the overhead lighting. Every element in this bathroom is designed to create a serene and indulgent atmosphere, where Lupita, Christopher, or a guest could relax, rejuvenate, and escape the stresses of everyday life.
And that was what Lupita did. Despite being militant with getting her body cleaned properly, she mentally and physically relaxed. âCleanliness is next to godliness.â she thought to herself as she washed off. It didnât take much longer for her to finish up her shower and get ready to get coffee.
This time around, she chose to wear a velour baby-blue tracksuit. Her bouncy coils glistened with gel as she made her way into the coffee shop. âMy apologies, getting ready does take time.â Lupita said to Beth as she sat across from her.
âItâs fine. I know all too well.â Beth assured her, despite her annoyance.
Lupitaâs eyes skimmed the Boland woman from top to Bossom. A meek smile chiseled her lips, âDo you really?â she questioned. Her eyes looked downward towards the menu that laid up on the table.
Beth felt uneasy and sat speechless. She didnât know what to make of Lupita. So, instead of saying something that could compromise her position; Beth sat quietly.
âSo, did you just move to the neighborhood, Brenda? I canât say Iâve seen you around the neighborhood before.â Lupita asked as she turned the menu over.
âNo. I actually wanted to venture outside the inner city more often and needed up here. I am beginning to enjoy the beautiful scenery of the neighborhood.â Beth replied. Her lies come out smoother than the truth. âI take it you live around here?â
âI do.â A genuine smile spread across Lupita, âMy beloved and I have lived here for a while now. Are you married?â
A look of disdain had flashed across Bethâs face as she thought of her ex-husband, Dean. No longer being a wife was both rejuvenating and sorrowful at the same time. And the notion boggled her mind. âNo, not anymore.â
Beth had expected Lupita to pry but she didnât. Not even once. Instead, she brushed over the topic all together and segwayed into fashion. The latest styles sheâd seen in Elle magazine. Beth easily became indulged in the conversation. Almost hanging onto every word that Luputa uttered. That was until they were interrupted by the sound of Lupitaâs phone going off.
âExcuse me for a moment.â Lupita said with a smile. She then proceeded to turn to the side as she held the phone to her ear,âHello my love, how are you?â Her voice rose a few octaves with a squeal chasing behind her words.
Beth watched closely, never veering her eyes away. Not even for a moment.
âWhere are you?â His voice was smooth as aged whiskey. It tickled Lupitaâs ears and made her heart flutter. But his words were sharp and straight to the point. As he always was.
Lupita briefly glanced at Beth before looking down into her lap, âIâm shopping for new cookware but stopped to grab a latte.â
âAlone?â
Lupita paused. Unsure if she should tell the truth or not. But, as both she and Christopher knew, telling the truth didnât always lead to good things. And oftentimes led to fights or unwanted deaths.
âYes. Itâs just a little busy here. Lunchtime or whatever.â She replied dismissively.
Beth raised her left eyebrow. She felt the need to almost speak up to see what would happen next. She couldnât hear the voice on the other end of the line but given how Lupita brightened up, She assumed it was Rio.
âIâll call you at 3:30. Youâll be home, yea?â Despite it coming off as a question, Lupita had known it wasnât one.
âYes. Te Amo Para Sempre .â
âTe Amo Para Sempre Mi Princesa.â Even behind his cold exterior and militant personality, Christopher could never deny telling Lupita he loved her. It made his heart warm and the edges of his lips curved into a smile.
When they both ended the call, Lupitaâs lips were still placed in a smiling position. Beth clearing her throat caused Lupita to snap out of her daydreaming state. âSorry, did you say something?â
Bethâs lips quivered. Fighting back the urge to ask the question that burned the tip of her tongue. But, she knew she had to be patient and proceeded with caution. So instead of saying something ill-willed, she said âI asked if you have to go now.â
âUnfortunately I do.â Luputa smiled meekly. She then rolled her phone across the table,âPut your number in and we can do this again sometime.â
âSure â Beth smiled as she took the phone. As she began punching her digits into the device, she askedâHow about we get tacos next time? A woman named Rhea told me about one called El Pico right on the harbor. I think it's a mom and pop shop.â Beth watched Luputa closely.
The name Rhea made Lupuita halt from packing away the items she carried in her purse. Her left eye began to twitch and her eyelashes fluttered. It was as if she were beginning to malfunction. She took a deep, dry gulp and licked over her pink-lipstick painted lips.
âNever heard of it.â She extended her arm outward and opened her hand.
âOh. Well maybe we can experience it together.â Beth replied as she laid the cellular device into Luputa 's hand.
âSorry. I'm not a fan of Mexican food. But, maybe something else. I'll text you.â Lupuita swiftly placed her phone into her purse. She then gave a tight-lipped smile as she stood up. Shortly leaving after.
Once the woman had been out of sight, Beth pulled out her phone and sent a text message to Agent Turner.
đČ The 'wife' knows about Rhea. I mentioned it and she looked disturbed. No doubt now that Rio killed her and perhaps Lupuita is covering it up
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@katyaaaaaaaaaaaaa I really wanna move to the south; I was wondering which towns/state are chill to move to?
People who hate the south because they think that it's just full of racist white hicks are literally like my least favorite people on the planet. Wdym you think the part of the USA most directly influenced and shaped by black culture and experiences is just only super racist and white. Have you ever been to SEATTLE
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shake the frost / 2
pairing: william 'ironhead' miller x female reader
rating: t (for now)
length: 3,044 words
content: established relationship with the triple frontier boys, cursing, bruises/cuts, tending to wounds (my jam)
summary: you don't expect to find will waiting for you so late at night, and especially not for these reasons.
a/n: just a sucker for one person taking care of another while they're hurt. really just feeding into my own agenda here. and also a sucker for some idiots who think their pining is unrequited.
read part one
link to ao3 here!
Next time.
Two words that had been ringing in Willâs ears, bouncing around his head. Words heâd been repeating to himself because he wasnât sure you meant it, wasnât sure what spurred it. Wasnât sure why it awakened something in him that had been dormant for so long. Two words that felt like a promise of more â more time, more you.
It wasnât as if it was something novel considering the way heâd looked at you, and caught you looking at him, too. All those fleeting glances youâd both share when he thought the other guys werenât looking, tiny smiles and faint touches in passing. But this was something different, wasnât it? A step in a direction he wasnât certain either of you would make a move toward, or maybe heâd been overthinking the entire thing and it was just something polite youâd offered.
Either way, Will Miller couldnât seem to get his mind off â nor wrap it around â the idea of ânext time.â
If only said next time wasnât under these circumstances, knocking on your front door in the state he was in, hoping that you were actually home.Â
Youâd just pulled into your parking spot, locking your car door three times as you walked up to your apartment. The silhouette thatâs slumped over your door is enough to have all the hairs rising at the back of your neck, one hand digging into your purse to clutch for something you could potentially use as a weapon. Shit, if only youâd listened to Frankie all those years ago, you mightâve been better prepared for moments like this. The only thing you could feel as you rummage in your bag is the dull handle of a switchblade, the one thing you did accept from Frankie if only to appease him and make him feel better about your safety.
And now you were kicking yourself in the fucking ass for not listening.
Tentative steps bring you closer to your door, your fingers grasping the knife tightly as wary eyes assess every inch you can see. In the darkness, you can only make out the fact that the person is a) much, much larger than you and b) hunched over like they might be sleeping. At your door, though? It doesnât tell you much, save for the fact that you had to be very fucking careful about what might happen next. One more step brings you only a few feet away but the rustling of your clothes is enough to have the otherâs head snapping up, and you whip out the knife from where itâd been hiding. âYou shouldââ
âItâs me.â
Youâd recognize that voice anywhere. Even in your haziest dreams, you could pick out that deep timbre and husky rasp that belonged to the one man that had no business occupying so much of your thoughts, especially as of late. âWill?â His name is a hushed whisper as you toss the switchblade back into your bag and quickly close the distance between you two. Youâre crouching down as heâs pushing himself up, clumsily meeting halfway, your hands rising to settle on his shoulders. Not that he needed you to steady him, but you needed something to steady yourself, the sight of Will Miller sitting at your door something youâd never in a million years think would happen. âWhatâre youâ is everything okay?â Immediately, your thoughts fly to all sorts of scenarios, a wary and assessing gaze raking over him as your palms work in a similar fashion, running up and down his arms like you might find a broken bone or a gaping wound.Â
Itâs only when your eyes finally land on his face that you notice, in the small sliver of moonlight peeking through a break in the sky, how dark red has matted along his hairline and paired nicely with the cut slicing his brow. Icy blue eyes dance as they search yours and Will remains quiet while you continue your inspection, finding more surface wounds on his lip and jaw, one that clenches when you linger too long. âCome in,â are the only two words you can think to say, reaching past him to shove your key in and unlock your door.
Maybe itâs your imagination, or maybe there really is only just a few inches between you and Will, his heat seeping through your clothes and prickling your skin. You swear you can feel his ragged and warm breath fanning out across your nape, a subtle roll of your neck like that might alleviate some of the tension thickening in the air when you push open the door to let both of you in. âThank you,â his hoarse voice cuts in before he immediately tacks on an apology, âIâm sorry. I can go if youââ
âNo.â You interrupt him before he can spiral. âStay.â
His reaction is physical. His shoulders sag like that one simple word washed away all of his worries, the divot between his brows smoothing as he takes one step further into your place and then another. Youâve already dropped your bags and shrugged off your sweater, shuffling to the bathroom to grab your first aid kit and wet a towel with warm water. âDo you want to tell me what happened?â Calling out to him, half expecting Will to remain planted where he stood because if thereâs one thing about the stoic blonde man standing in your home, he always knew boundaries.
But when you close the medicine cabinet and turn on a heel, you nearly smack into a solid wall of carved muscle, one palm flying up to meet his firm chest to keep yourself upright. âOhâ Willââ blurting out his name while colour steals across your cheeks, âum, you can just have a seat there, then.â He takes orders so well, almost as well as he gives them. The only reason you know what that might sound like is because youâve heard him bark them out to his brother Benny, even to Frankie and Santi. Thereâs no way it was anywhere near how he sounded when heâs on the field and youâre not delusional enough to think so, but itâs always been enough to strike a match in your gut. To spark that flame that burned for William Miller.
That same fire is ignited the second you lock your gaze with his pool of blues, tipping your head to the side with a cocked brow. Imploring him with your expression alone, hoping that heâd take the bait or feel comfortable enough to say something â anything â as you slowly and gently bring the edge of the warm towel up to wipe away the dried blood on his temple. âBenny got into somethinâ stupid after his fight tonight,â Will grumbled, those bright arctic irides breaking away from yours for a beat, âthey didnât like how he mouthed off too much in the ring. I told him one day itâd come to bite him in the ass, but you know Benny.â He huffs out a breath, one that tickles the sliver of skin peeking from your shirt, a lick of your lips to hide the way you noticed and zeroed in on the sensation so quickly.Â
âMmhm. In one earââ
âOut the other,â he finishes with a dry chuckle.Â
Will barely flinches as you start to clean out his wounds, pressing damp alcohol-soaked pads to open cuts. Itâs a testament to all that heâs endured out in the field, things far worse than you can ever imagine. Things far worse than what youâve seen with your own two eyes at the hospital. You remember Frankie talking about a gunshot wound on their last âmissionâ that Will simply patched up with a few pads of gauze, and even remembering the way Frankie told the story has your brows pinching together with distaste. âIs it bad?â Will murmurs, bringing your eyes down to his again.
âNo, itâs not bad.â Were you really that easy to read, or maybe this close Will can just see right through you? âAre you feeling okay? Need a painkiller or something?â
âProbably just some water but I can wait.â
A hint of a smile teases the edges of your lips, wanting to lighten the sullen mood thatâs fallen between you two. âIâll make it quick, then.â
And you do, as much as you could. All of the open wounds were small enough that Will didnât need any stitches; a few slips of the skin glue enough to close them, followed by pressing the thin adhesive strip bandages on top to make sure everything held. You lean in close when you get to the cut along his cheek, not wanting to mess up something that couldâve otherwise turned into a scar. Not that you thought Will would mind or didnât have plenty of those, but youâd always been cautious about the face for any of your patients and he was no different. So focused on your work, steady fingers brushing back the small bandage, you donât notice just how close your mouths are until you start to speak, the bristles of his beard tickling the edges of your pout. âGood as new,â you chime and without thinking, continue to say, âhandsome as ever.â
If the ground could open you up and swallow you whole, youâd thank all your lucky stars and maybe even become religious. Had you really just said that? Heart hammering a bruise behind your ribs, you dare to steal a glance at Willâs face, hoping and praying and wishing youâd find something akin to indifference written over it. An indicator that he didnât hear what you just said or maybe that heâd spare you and ignore it. Instead, you find a slick shine on his lower lip, a flirt of his tongue before he pulls it in while those thick, blonde lashes bat against his cheek. Itâs silent for a few seconds, the weight of your words hanging over you like a blanket, and as soon as you open your mouth to say something, Willâs hand finds a home on your hip.
âItâs okay.â His tone stuns you, softer than youâve ever heard it, swallowing thickly as you give him a shallow nod. âI didnât mean to come here so late. Thank you for helping me. I was going to drive myself to the emergency, but Benny thought itâd be better to come see you directly. He all but followed me to make sure I actually didnât go anywhere else.â All the while his thumb starts an absent sweeping motion, snagging on the hem of your shirt and sending goosebumps spreading fast on your skin.
âIâm glad you did, Will. Youâd have been sitting in the waiting room for hours, you know.â Your fingers trail down until they brush over his knuckles, the same ones still holding you steady. âA heads up wouldâve been nice, though, I guess.â
Youâre not sure where this drop of courage is coming from. Maybe itâs the fact that Will took the lead here, the fact that his palm seems to press in more firmly where it lay. But as you search his eyes for a response, you can see the very second the moment splits into two. The moment where reality rears its ugly head and presents the staggering truth: too much. This is too much, too soon. Thereâs a faint quiver to Willâs lower lip, a muscle feathering in his jaw, and a few blinks is all it takes for those arctic blues to gloss over with something colder. Something youâve seen in his eyes before, usually at the start of the night when heâs still had all his guards up and the others were around keeping a watchful and protective stance around you. Or when youâd overhear him and the guys talking about their pasts, especially their old friend. Or even the times you listened to Willâs speeches, recounting the eventful situation he found himself in at the grocery store when he all but lost his grip and sense.
âIt wonât happen again. Iâm sorry.â His hands drop as low as his voice, the words leaking of shame.
You wonât pretend to ever know what happened between Will and his ex, or even Will on the last mission, but it doesnât take a genius to recognize the wheels turning behind those wary eyes. His entire face twists like heâs trying to hide the visceral need to run, and the warning signs flood the forefront of your mind as Frankieâs booming voice echoes between your ears: itâs a bad idea, heâs not ready, heâll hurt you, youâll hurt each other.
âItâs okay, Will.â Barely above a whisper, you say the three words you hope will settle in his bones the same time you step back to put a small gap between your aching bodies. His aching undoubtedly from the fight heâd put up for Benny and yours for different reasons entirely, emphasized by the fact that every fibre of your being is reaching out to return to his orbit.Â
His hands clasp together in front of him, another sharp breath slipping past those lips before he rises to his full height. It takes you too long to point out that his knuckles still have dried blood on them, but itâs clear he has no intent on staying any longer than necessary. Hiding the hurt from your face was easy enough but the way it stings the corner of your eyes is something thatâs more challenging to tamp down. Twisting your body away from him and ducking your chin into your chest, you try to stride out of the bathroom, but his words have you faltering right at the threshold. âDo I owe you something for this?â
âWhat?â Brows bunching together into a frown, you peer at him over your shoulder. âNo, Will. You donât owe me anything.â
Is it relief you see as tension uncoils from his body? Like maybe the fact that he didnât owe you anything meant he didnât have to talk about this night, relive it, or see you again? Your mind is racing a mile a minute, your steps faster as you make it to your living room and leave him following behind. âHey,â Willâs voice is strained and again, it has your resolve wavering, leaning against the back of the couch as you slowly turn to face him, âthank you. Iâm not sure what else to say. I know seeing a man sitting at your door late at night probably wasnât the most welcoming thing, and out of the blue, too. Iâm sorry.â
âStop apologizing.â You donât mean to snap, the words falling out with a bite, but itâs too late to take them back. The only thing you can do is cast your eyes up at Will with a hint of regret flashing across your face. Because you did want him to stop saying sorry, to stop feeling bad for leaning on you when he needed help. Because youâre hit with the realization that refusing and turning him away at the door was never even an option. âItâs okay. Really, Will. I mean it. Iâm happy to help you.â You admit softly, sucking in a breath to keep the momentum going, pivoting at the last second to turn the conversation into something less daunting as you murmur, âthough I guess I thought the next time wouldâve been under different circumstances.â
This seems to do the trick, lifting the veil of tension even for a brief moment, allowing you to catch a ghost of a smile when the lines on Willâs cheek deepen. âMmhm, yeah. Wouldâve been nicer if it were, I imagine.â
Fidgeting with your fingers yet unable to keep your attention away from him for too long, your eyes dance between your own hands and his. âDo you want me to take care of that, orâŠ?â A little matted blood only needed a good wash, but youâd take the opportunity to tend to him if he allowed it.
Blue eyes dart down to meet where youâre looking, a quiet hum sounding in your apartment that feels like a ticking time bomb minutes before the inevitable crash. It comes far too quickly, and far too quietly, hitting you harder than youâre prepared for. âNo, itâs okay. I should go.â
Whatever bubble youâd convinced yourself you were in pops, the moment once again splitting into pieces. This time, more than two, dropping around you helplessly and all you can do is agree with him as it slips like water between your fingers. âOkay.â After all, you'd have no right to ask him to stay. Heâd already done that, and now Willâs decided itâs his time to leave. Palms slicking with sweat, you find yourself nervous. Find yourself wondering, not for the first time since youâve known Will, why you were so nervous around him. Itâs just Will, you remind yourself, something thatâs becoming more of a mantra these days. âYou drove here? Youâll be alright?â
âIâll be alright.â
But would you be alright? Itâs hard to tell because the longer Will lingers in front of you, the longer your mind strays. Is he second guessing himself? Is this all in your head? Is he going to shrug his jacket off and change his mind? Through the corner of your eye and in the dim light of your living room, you see the way his fingers twitch as it slowly rises. Inches before they can touch any part of you, it fades, your heart sinking into your stomach.
Only for it to crawl back up to lodge in your throat when the scent of Will threatens to overwhelm you as he steps in to press a kiss to the crown of your head, another muffled ânext time, then,â before heâs skirting past you, opening your door, and leaving.
Leaving you with even more conflicted thoughts about Will Miller, ones that replay over and over again the entire night. Ones that blend into a flurry of emotions as you clean up and ready yourself for bed, ones that have you picking up your phone in the dark to type out a hurried text
'You shouldâve stayed. Next time?'
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Girl he wasn't even into her at all! I fast forwarded it bc it was a bit too cringe for me. But the way she bragged and Ruby made it seem so "omg hot" as if it wasn't dry. He didn't even kiss her or feel her up
Welp. I finished Good Girls. đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł and Girl.... No. Just no. That was some mess! đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł Thank God for the writers putting their soul into creating the new storylines and AU's that got me here. I love all y'all. ïżœïżœđđ
You've gone through emotional damage watching that BULLSHIT but the community that avenges Rio thanks you dearly
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Welp. I finished Good Girls. đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł and Girl.... No. Just no. That was some mess! đ€Łđ€Łđ€Ł Thank God for the writers putting their soul into creating the new storylines and AU's that got me here. I love all y'all. đđđ
You've gone through emotional damage watching that BULLSHIT but the community that avenges Rio thanks you dearly
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