lovedrunked.

“oh, i’m sorry. i guess i’m a little rusty since i’ve never had to beg a guy before.” they probably could’ve bounced back if it hadn’t gone any further than that, so she would also argue his mouth wasn’t necessarily the part that ruined anything. still, maggie’s eyes roll playfully and she uses that excuse — of innocently joking around with a friend — to gain a small burst of confidence, leaning in closer to practically bat her eyes at him. it’s yet another thing she’s never done, but she’s careful not to actually touch him. why that feels like it would be crossing a line somehow is a mystery. “please, luke, that a-game of yours really left a mark on me and now i can't get you out of my head... you have to fix this or i won’t be able to go on.” though kept light, there’s truth to the words whether she’s willing to admit it or not. even if she doesn’t remember each and every detail of their night together, knowing it happened at all is more than enough to get in maggie’s head. “how’s my desperation sounding?”

his eyes widen in disbelief, caught offguard that she actually humored him. luke tilts his head at her, knowing full well that teasing her is probably the worst thing he could ever do for their friendship. but he's...well, luke. "god, i rocked your world, and you can't even remember it." he exhales deeply, grabbing a pillow and placing it on his lap as if he's trying to contain himself. "mmm, you don't remember it now, but you know how when something lifechanging happens to people, and they say they're fine and they've probably forgotten about it," he gives her a once over as if he couldn't help himself, "and they go about their lives, trying to forget but then suddenly, it just hits them in waves, and they realize they can't run away..." he turns to look at her, intending to look at her brown eyes, but he feels drawn to her lips and he remembers how they felt like against his last night. "they realize that their life will never be the same way again." there's a pause, and the air around him feels heavy enough as if he could cut through it with a knife. "not to toot my own horn, but that's going to be what it's like for you, maggie liao."

she pulled him in for another kiss, their bodies flush against each other's now. she continued to sway along to the music, grinding against him as she just lived in the fact that she was able to show everyone in the bar how much she loved him. "you're mine... forever right?" a small amount of insecurity tinting her voice. "like... you're never going to leave me?"

the lights flickered wildly, illuminating them in neon lights. the feeling of having eyes on them would have terrified them had they been back home, but here... no one knew who they were. "forever," he nodded, his lips curling into a genuine smile, one only valerie would get to see. "they would have to fucking kill me, before i'd let them take you away from me." and he meant it, too. before he could pull her even closer, he felt the vibration in his pocket. he moved to turn his phone off, but seeing the caller id made him freeze. carter. great fucking timing. he tilted the phone so val could see, his hand squeezing hers reassuringly. "i should answer it, right? so he wouldn't think of anything?"

THE MAGICIANS (2015) — Mendings, Major and Minor

“   and   you   know   how   i   get   you’re   on   top   of   me   and   you   smell   so   fucking   good   .   ”   surely   he   remembers   how   good   their   bodies   used   to   feel   against   each   other   ,   but   she   wouldn’t   mind   reminding   him   .   “   i   mean   ,   why   else   would   you   walk   me   to   my   room   ?   ”   

“i told myself i was just being polite,” he said, but his voice had dropped a little lower now, rough around the edges. his eyes flicked down to her mouth, then lingered there, like he couldn’t help himself. “walking you up, making sure you got to your room okay...” a quiet beat stretched between them. one heartbeat. then another. “but you and i both know i’ve never been good at lying to you.” his gaze drifted lower...the way her dress clung to her skin. “especially when you’re in a dress like that,” he murmured. “saying shit like that.”

savannah was rich and could have every easily just paid for VIP tickets for the concert. any of her friends could have, actually. however, the girls thought it'd be funny to dare savannah to try and pretend to be one of the band members' girlfriend to get backstage. as if savannah didn't grow up with all older brothers and would turn down a dare. so . . . she had marched right up to the security and put on her best panicked expression. had rambled some random story to security about how she had left super late and forgot her VIP lanyard back at her boyfriend's house. her eyes drifted over to the one in question as he approached, smiling at him as if they really were together. savannah hadn't expected it to work at all, but she wasn't about to question it. "see? i'm not same weirdo," she said, stepping past the guard and pressed a twenty into his palm. "for your troubles while you helped me out. thank you for finding him. service here is fucking crazy and none of my calls went through."

once the guard disappeared, samuel tilted his head slightly, guitar still slung over his shoulder, fingers still itching to finish tuning it. but now his focus had shifted. “you do this kind of thing often,” he asked, voice low and amused, “or am i just lucky?” samuel squinted at her. “you're not a journalist, are you?” he added, only half-kidding. “or a pr spy? label sent you to test our backstage security?” still no wristband. no badge. no name. but she didn’t look nervous. she looked like someone who knew how to get what she wanted. and maybe didn’t care what it cost to get there. that made his mouth twitch again. dangerous girls always did. he glanced over his shoulder. stagehands moving around, someone yelling about a busted snare mic, fans outside chanting the band’s name. “c’mon,” he said, nodding toward the green room as he started walking. “if you’re gonna fake-date your way in here, might as well commit. you want something to drink? water, soda, lukewarm beer? it’s a real five-star operation back here.”

once the check was settled she stood up, tangling her fingers with his as she started walking towards the bar that he had mentioned. she kept herself close to him, savoring how warm he was. she truly never pictured being this happy with anyone. he was truly the love of her life. as they got closer to the bar the music got louder, tucking herself even closer to them as they began to weave through the crowd of people towards the bar. his closeness brought her so much peace.

“you’re gonna wreck me tonight, val,” he murmured with a crooked grin, slipping one hand down to her hip. “and i’m not even mad about it.” the bartender passed by, but jackson barely looked. his focus was all on her as he swayed with her to the music, guiding her into a lazy kind of rhythm, like they had all the time in the world. “we’ll order in a sec,” he said, voice low and amused, brushing his mouth against her jaw. “right now i just wanna feel you against me.”

he   chuckles   dryly   .   “   my   mother   already   thinks   i’m   an   embarrassment   so   i   don’t   really   give   a   fuck   what   she   thinks   about   us   .   ”   and   his   dad   ,   well   ...   he   was   six   feet   under   .   his   palm   brushes   over   the   soft   skin   of   her   thigh   ,   digits   drawing   gentle   patterns   .   “   let   her   and   everyone   else   hear   how   loud   you   moan   for   me   .   ”   

blaire hums low in her throat , lashes fluttering like she’s bored. “bold promise, princeling.” her fingers skate up the inside of his wrist, stopping just before his pulse. “hope you realize i don’t fake it for free. you want those moans? earn them.” a wicked smile. “and if the walls are thin...well, that’s the landlord’s problem, not mine.”

"don't tell me it's not one of the reasons why you love having me around," sylvie giggles, watching as he did his thing. agreeing to do a podcast with him was entertaining, though, really it gave her all the more reason to be around his presence. gasp fell from her lips, "i broke the podcast? excuse me! you're lucky i didn't jump over the table to suck you off on mic," and there she goes speaking out of her mind.. allowing her vivid thoughts to be uttered out loud. maybe she should get better at keeping her mouth shut, but it was so easy with him; everything always been so simple. the way he describes it pulls a smile upon her lips, she loves sleeping in his hoodie, snuggled up in his bed -- it was comfort, it was home. . . he was home. "do you miss it?" a slight curiosity in her tone, her gaze looking up to meet his features; trying to get a read on him. thumbs twiddling together, a nervous habit that she never could really get rid of. she could see the longing in his gaze, the memories replays in her mind, it happens one too many times. "yeah, well i wasn't the one who ended up in a relationship."

“yeah,” he said, voice lower now. “you weren’t.” his gaze didn’t drop from hers, even though he could feel her trying to read him. it wasn’t like she didn’t already know the answer. of course he missed it. missed her. the hoodie, the bed, the way she used to mumble half-asleep jokes into his chest at 3 a.m. and then deny it the next morning. “you think i forgot?” he asked, and it came out rougher than he meant it to. his hand moved to rub at the back of his neck, a nervous tell he hadn’t outgrown. “you think any of that just… went away?” he leaned back in his chair, trying to get some distance, but it didn’t help, not when she was still looking at him like that. not when his body remembered hers way too well. and definitely not when his jeans were still just a little too tight thanks to the way she’d said suck you off on mic like it was nothing. he laughed under his breath, more self-deprecating than anything. “i invite you in here to talk about ghost stories and failed tinder dates, and you’re out here casually offering to blow up my whole night, and then guilt-tripping me about my last relationship like you didn’t wreck me first.” he meant it lightly. but it was also true. and it hung between them for a beat too long. then, quieter: “you wanna talk about what we miss… or just show me?”

"do i fit your type?" another loaded question, something she probably should've kept to herself. lolani had a habit of letting curiosity speak before her judgement could catch up. still, the thought had been lingering beneath the surface. would he have even looked at her twice if not for this situation? she caught the way his gaze flickered from her eyes to her lips and back again, and it sent a rush of heat to her cheeks. her breath hitched, "i think i married a smart one with a bit of a sweet tooth," she teased, it had been a few months since she'd felt this kind of closeness. since anyone had looked at her in the way he did. his nearness made her skin prickle with goosebumps, like her body was already answering for her, silently begging for him to just do it, just kiss me already, and then came the knock. a sudden jump scare, startling her enough to lean back against the counter like she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. the moment between them slipping through her fingers as she turned to the sound. "...maybe it's just the neighbor," she mumbled, barely convincing herself but she didn't want to freak out. "we should call agent jones, wyatt"

wyatt’s eyes lingered on hers, caught somewhere between amusement and something quieter. her question, do i fit your type?, wasn’t light, not really. and he didn’t treat it like it was. “i don’t think i’ve got a type,” he said after a beat, his voice rough with truth. “but if i did…” he let the rest hang between them, the answer written all over the way he was looking at her. her teasing landed soft in his chest, and for a second it was easy to forget the danger. “you did marry a smart one,” he murmured, his voice low. “and charming. and—” knock knock knock. the sound snapped through the moment like a wire cutting clean. wyatt straightened, his expression shifting as his eyes flicked to the door. “hold that thought,” he muttered. he moved toward the door with quiet caution, every movement deliberate as he sidestepped to the peephole, shoulder brushing the wall. he looked, and blinked. “…it’s mrs. garcia,” he said after a beat, brow lifting as he relaxed just a touch. “from two houses down. she’s holding… a casserole?” he glanced back at lolani, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth despite the spike of adrenaline still fading from his system. “guess word’s getting around about the newlyweds.” he didn’t open the door yet. he just stayed there, watching her for a moment longer. “you okay?”

"i guess i'm holding out for a catfight," andrew teased, the corner of his mouth lifting into a smirk. the thought clearly amused him more than it should have, images of the two of them tangled up in his apartment made him chuckle under his breath. he stepped behind her in the living room, gaze drifting down her legs as they crossed, admiring the view before finally meeting her eyes with the same lazy, charmed grin. "if she asks, i'll just say we were going over last-minute work things. easiest lie i've ever told," he said, only half-joking. he wouldn't do that to her but he enjoyed how far he could push it. "you don't think she'd mind sharing? she's always been a little too eager to please."

grace let out a soft laugh, brushing her hair over one shoulder like she wasn’t already unraveling underneath. “you gonna let her play house too, andrew? or is that just my thing?” she asked, voice lilting like she was just messing with him, even though her eyes were locked on his a little too long. “she looks like the type who gets attached if you so much as hold the door open. you so much as kiss her and she’ll be doodling your initials in the margins of her meeting notes.” her tongue clicked against her teeth, arms folding loosely like she was trying to seem unbothered. “but hey, maybe she’d be better at it than me. probably wouldn’t even ask you to mean it.” that last part slipped out quieter, like she hadn’t meant to say it at all.

“whatever that means…” if jackie thought ethan was confusing before, she’s currently feeling that tenfold. she didn’t understand his motives then, back when he was bleeding from the head and still showing her kindness, and she doesn’t now. can’t work out how the energy changed so damn quickly or why the idea of her being refreshed (also known as no longer about to bite it) bothers him so much. hell, she’s asked multiple times already and he refuses to give a straight answer. what is she expected to do? “who said i was pretending? maybe i’m secretly an avid reader.” she isn’t really, especially not nowadays, but he doesn’t need to know that yet. nothing about her lifestyle allows for that level of relaxation. “apparently, you’re not though... there isn’t a single crack in any of these spines. you do know books are made to be opened, right?”

“okay, wow. you come into my apartment, judge my untouched textbooks, and expect snacks?” he nudged the nearest one with his foot, like it was to blame for the awkwardness lingering in the air. he hated how fast things could go sideways with her, how one wrong word made her pull back like a hand on a stove. and still, here she was. still here. “yeah, well… i was gonna read them. eventually. thought maybe sleeping next to them would help me absorb the knowledge..like samosas or whatever.” he dropped back down beside her. not as close as before, but enough to close the space a little. enough to show he hadn’t checked out. “thing is, i’m a visual learner,” he added, a grin tugging at his mouth. “kinda like how i know you only mess with your rings when you’re overthinking something. or how your smile goes lopsided when you’re actually amused, not just faking it to get me to shut up.” it came out lightly, but part of him meant every word more than he probably should’ve. he wasn’t just watching. he was paying attention. too much, maybe. “see? who needs books?”

“wow. guilt. so that’s what you think would get me there?” he shoots back, voice light. “not your sparkling personality or, you know, sheer magnetism.” he leans back on his hands, his knee bumping hers like it’s just an accident, even though it’s not. “if i didn’t wanna kiss you, maggie, i wouldn’t have.” he glances down at her hand, at the way her fingers curl just slightly into the blanket, and something in his chest twists. he’s not even sure why he said it like that. maybe because the idea that she’s brushing the whole thing off as some act of charity makes his stomach turn a little. “and for the record,” he adds, tilting his head, “i don’t do half-assed. even blackout me has standards.” it earns him a smirk, which is good, because he’s not quite brave enough to tell her the rest. that he’s not sure what last night means either, but he hasn’t stopped thinking about it since he woke up. about her. about whether this really messed everything up, or if maybe it opened some door they’d both been standing next to for years without noticing. instead, he just bumps her knee again and murmurs, quieter now, “but hey. if you ever did wanna remember it, for real this time… i’m just saying. you wouldn’t have to twist my arm.”

“well, i figured you’ve been around my sparkling personality for years now and never tried to hit on me before, so surely it must be something else.” certainly not sheer magnetism, something maggie would argue she’s never once possessed in her life. there’s a reason she’s apparently more successful with romance after a drink or two... or five. when she’s stone cold sober, she’s far too in her head about things — somehow overthinking and not thinking enough at the same time. she has many talents and flirting just isn't one of them. it’s better for everyone around her if she doesn’t try. “yeah, i hear you. feels like kind of a weird thing to ask for given the circumstances though…” a soft laugh is huffed out, bare shoulders moving in a bashful shrug. each bump of his knee against hers only serves to make her heart beat a little faster, but she doesn’t bother moving out of his reach. call her selfish. “what am i supposed to say? please luke, my very best friend in the world who i love so much, i need you to kiss me again or i’ll forever be left wondering?”

okay, well...when you say it like that, it does sound a little dramatic.” he glances over at her, and despite the smirk on his face, there’s something gentler in the way he’s looking at her now. like he’s trying to memorize the moment, just in case it’s the last one that feels like this. “but for the record,” he goes on, nudging her knee one more time, less playful this time, more like he just wants the contact, “i’ve also been around your sparkling personality for years and somehow still like you. so maybe don’t sell yourself short.” he tries to keep it light, keep it safe. but there’s a moment—quick, unguarded, where his eyes catch hers and he can feel the shift in the air. this thing between them, whatever it is, it isn’t a joke. not to him. “you don’t have to say anything, mags,” he adds, quieter now. “not asking for a replay. just… wasn’t the worst thing i’ve ever woken up to. that’s all.” the sudden shift makes him uneasy, so he dismisses it with a wave and a playful ggrin. “could use a little more desperatio though. like...please, luke, ruin our friendship with your mouth again, i can’t go another minute without it.”