#and fuck off into the sunset in his rental car
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i’m sorry about kidnapping your boyfriend so we could give the fbi false testimony. yes, i tried to feed him, he thinks thai is too fattening and wouldn’t have any. i also put out a hit on his rapist
#OBSESSED with neil showing up for a chapter just to do some shady shit#reassure jean of his self-worth#and fuck off into the sunset in his rental car#their little mafia day was so fun#neil just texting jean like i’m already in your city tell me where you live#jean moreau#neil josten#the sunshine court spoilers#the sunshine court#aftg#aftg spoilers#tsc spoilers#tw rape mention#tw sa#hits ig#i op
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can i request a fic where sapnap takes the reader to his hometown? like the classic going to places he went to when he was younger. maybe playgrounds and ice cream shops idk
places i used to go
warnings: language of course, an allusion to virginap, my uneducated guess of what sapnap was like in highschool, tiny detail of long haired!sapnap, singular canon detail of underage drinking, jokish about marriage
tags: sapnap x gn!reader
words: 2191
A/N: you are a god, anon. i love comfy and nostalgic fics like these and it was so fun to write. if you hate it dont tell me but if you like it lemme know akskdjd
inbox/requests: open
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The wind whips fast on your bare fingers, cool and quick and raising goosebumps in its wake. You blink in the haze of the early sunset, head lolled to the side of the headrest. It feels good.
“That’s where I went to high school.” Sapnap interrupts your thoughts and points a finger at a collection of tall brick buildings down a side street. The silver of the lettering is dull, but you can still feel the nostalgia.
“And you’re about to see the park that me and my friends used to hang out at after work and—actually, nevermind.” His arm drops to the middle console and he looks straight ahead with slightly pinker cheeks.
“Do what?” You ask, voice all sweet, and a grin grows on your face. You turn towards him and wiggle your eyebrows.
“Nothing. Homework.” He avoids your eye contact and hikes his hand up higher on the steering wheel. “Anyways— Do you want to get some food before we head out? I know a great place.”
You two were just coming to a close on your little trip to visit his family; it was his step-mom’s birthday and you decided to make a week of it. It was your first long-term trip with Sapnap, and also your first time meeting his dad’s side of the family. You were proud to say she loved you. His little sister took a little more effort to talk to you of her own volition, but soon enough she was on your side.
You have a couple hours to kill before making your flight back home, so Sapnap has taken it upon himself to give you a quick tour of his hometown.
“Yeah,” you decide, bottom lip popped out. “Can we get ice cream after?”
“Uh, duh.” The Neighbourhood’s Stargazing starts through the speakers and he reaches to turn it down. “I’m so ready to get home and sleep.” He stretches his neck in his seat, letting out an uncharacteristically inappropriate grunt when his bones pop. You make a disgusted face, nose wrinkling, but stretch your own back, slumping down in the seat. The day had been full of packing up and this horrible hike his dad liked to do early in the mornings, so you two were pretty beat.
“Okay, we’re here,” he announces three sleepy minutes later in his best attempt at a whisper. Lifting your head off of the corner of your seat, you blink in the setting sunlight as a yawn splits your face. “You’re so cute.”
“Shut up,” you mumble, and struggle to get your seatbelt off in that post-nap haze. You’d barely been asleep for thirty seconds, damn it. The air is a swampy heat when you step out of the car onto rocky gravel and nearly twist your ankle climbing over the curb. Sapnap catches you by the lower back, trying to hide his laugh but failing miserably. You slide him a dirty look, smacking his shoulder as hard as you can manage while limping towards the front entrance.
The door jingles when you two breach the doorway, alerting a bored-looking hostess that the circus has arrived. She looks at Sapnap a second longer than she should, eyebrows screwed together in silent confusion. But she leads the two of you to a booth near a large window, handing you sticky menus and promptly fucking right off to the host station. She nearly runs.
“Do you know her?” You ask, inconspicuously hiding your face in the search for their 24/7 breakfast menu. You feel his eyes on you.
“Don’t think so.” He leans on one elbow and slides his phone out of his jeans’ pocket. In the 25 seconds it takes for you to find their french toast and sides menu, he has browsed and closed his phone with an animatedly shocked look on his face.
“What?” You give him a weird look and put down the menu.
“I totally went to homecoming with that girl.” He eyes the hostess. You glance over at her again, meeting her gaze, and offer a polite smile. She turns away quickly, eyes wide.
“She’s cute,” you say, voice high and fake, and he drums his fingers on the tabletop as an amused look makes its way onto his face.
“Are you—?”
“What?” You reply right back.
“Nothing.”
Thank God the server comes up to your table then and starts asking for drink orders, or else you’d have to admit (sheepishly) you were a tiny eensy-weensy bit annoyed. Only a tad. But after requesting a Dr. Pepper and a water the conversation surrounding the nervous-looking hostess dies.
“I’m so hungry I think I feel my stomach shrinking.” You flop your head onto your arm on the table top and make a whiny noise into the stack of napkins your server left at the table. Sapnap rubs his thumb into the side of your forearm, touch warm and nearly dissolving the pangs of hunger and jealousy.
“You weren’t hungry an hour ago.” He lifts your hand to his face and plants a kiss on the back of it. Oh, pulling out the big guns, huh? “I would have made you something.”
You tilt onto your chin, pouting, and stare up at his cute face. His cute, scruffy, perfectly-kissable face.
“I think I got hungry staring at you for half an hour.” A mischievous grin grows on your previously-petulant face and he just shakes his head.
“I do have that effect,” he admits with cockiness in his tone, lifting his eyebrows and leaning back into the booth with his lips pursed.
The server returns with two glasses and takes your food orders onto their little yellow notepad. You chug the water down when they leave for the kitchen, getting your lap and chin thoroughly wet in the process. Sapnap just snorts at you and shoves the napkins your way.
“So,” you start, patting dry your jeans. “tell me what you were like in high school.” You cross your arms and settle into the booth, smirk on your lips.
“What I was like?” He parrots, sipping at his soda, looking thoughtful. “Firstly, a virgin.” You make a noise. Duh. Dude had a buzz cut his junior year. (You’ve seen the pictures. His step-mom particularly likes them.) “Secondly, I was actually— well, I wasn’t popular, but I had a lot of friends. We were all semi-athletic lonely band kids but we had fun. Had one girlfriend senior year but she went to Cal Tech in the fall and I didn’t. I, um, worked at a Dairy Queen in the summers and gained so much weight I had to lose all over again for Unified Track.”
“Relatable,” you comment, drinking noisily at your water. He fiddles with the paper straw wrapper and crunches it up into a ball. It goes soaring into your drink with a quiet “Kobe” and you just give him a look. He smiles toothily right back at you. “Stop being cute, I’m trying to listen to your story.”
“Oh, my bad,” he mocks. “Anyways. That’s what I was like in highschool.” You fish the paper ball out of your water and flick it wetly at his arm. It sticks and you choke on a laugh, cheeks puffed.
Two plates of warm food are set down loudly onto the table and you thank the server with a surprised smile, Sapnap mirroring you.
Two minutes of wordless chewing passes, minds occupied just by “food, me eat” instead of anything related to your previous conversation. You realize that Sapnap is one of the loudest chewers ever, and he realizes that you fail to notice the streak of maple syrup in your hair.
“C’mere,” he mumbles through a mouthful of omelet and hash browns and beckons you with his hand. You lean closer, chewing slowly, as he pats a napkin at the strands of hair trapped in syrup.
“Thanks, baby.” You take the napkin from him and pause your assault of the warm french toast before you to clean the sticky sugar out of your hair. He just watches you, half of a smile on his lips.
You two finish your food in record time. It’s borderline vacuum-like. There’s a short grace period where you just sit like two lazy cats, slumped down in the booth and holding your full stomachs. But the check comes soon after, and you both pay your way and are out of the restaurant without any mad dashes for the bathroom. A miracle, really, because of the American-like amount of butter you both consume.
“I’m a much more functional person now,” you mutter into the cotton of his shoulder, swinging your hand in his. He just hums in agreement.
“I guess we’re not getting ice cream, then,” he teases, and you just groan in response.
“I don’t feel like having diarrhea on a plane, unfortunately.” You sigh heavily when you have to split and get into your respective sides of the rental car.
The entire trip (somewhat roundabout because of the amount of side quests to show you things from his childhood) to the airport Sapnap is a chatterbox. He’s like this when he has sugar: either bouncing off the walls with energy or talking your ear off.
“That’s where my dad proposed to my step-mom. I was kinda young but I remember being surprised at how big the ring was— dude broke the bank for her.” It’s a little gazebo you catch a glimpse of through the trees in a park. It probably was an incredibly picturesque moment, and you can sense how much she must have loved it. With just meeting them this weekend, you can already see how much love those two have for each other.
You hope people can see how much you love Sapnap.
“Oh my God, it’s still there.” He points out the side of your window to what looks like a Dairy Queen that has been through World War 3. “My buddy Eric and I once spilled a gallon of that liquid ice-cream-shit all over the men’s bathroom.”
You shoot him a horrified look. “Why was it in the bathroom?”
He just smirks.
“—And that’s my Uncle Ron’s house. Had my first beer there.”
“And last, hopefully,” you add, pulling a disgusted face. The two story bungalow is cute, and one of your favorite colors: olive green. “That shit is nasty.”
He just shrugs and continues down the side street.
“Is this the park you were talking about?”
He pulls into the gravelly parking lot of a small clearing of tall trees, a picnic table and campfire sat squat in the middle. But he doesn’t respond, just turning the car off and climbing out. He reaches the passenger door without speaking, and opens it for you. You climb carefully out, confused.
“Come on.” He takes your hand and starts for a small path to the left of the picnic table. The mid-sunset shade envelopes the both of you.
“I hope this isn’t where you kill me.”
“No,” he snorts. “I just wanted to show you something.”
It’s just a few moments of stumbling through the damp underbrush before you’re coming face to face with a small, mossy pond that sits right underneath an incredibly old willow tree. He stops right on the edge of the rocky path and turns toward you.
“This your make out spot?” You ask between a grin as he snakes an arm around your waist and tugs you flush to him. Your innocent smile fades when you feel the press of his lips to the side of your neck, light and ticklish. Oh.
“No,” he murmurs, and just breathes you in. “I came here once—the night before I graduated highschool. And I told myself when I really really loved someone I’d take them here with me.” He sways with you in his grasp, a gentle and song-less dance.
You grip his shoulder tighter in your hand and lean into him.
“That’s— awfully romantic, huh?” Your voice is quiet. Almost nervous. He just makes a noise of agreement.
“So here we are.” His voice is the opposite of yours, all strong and confident.
You two just move together for a moment. The sun breaks through the tree canopy, shining bright orange down onto the glassy surface of the pond. Crickets and frogs chirp back and forth as the willow vines swing in a cool evening breeze. You watch nature come alive around you, suddenly grateful for the man in your arms.
“Don’t propose,” you whisper, breaking the gentle tension. A laugh breaks the silence and he’s pulling away to look at you. Maybe in disbelief. A strand of hair falls into his eyes and you brush it away, fingers stilling on his temple and sliding down onto his cheek. Stubble scrapes against the skin of your palm and he stares at you through those meadow eyes.
You realize in that moment that he is exactly himself. Of course he is. He’s Sapnap, and everything that encompasses that. Dark and light and fiery and cool. He always has been, and always will be.
You realize you wouldn’t mind if he proposed.
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A/N: ask or send me some stuff!! requests, rants, anything. let me know what you think
#sapnap#mcyt#sapnap x gn!reader#sapnap x reader#sapnap x you#sapnap fluff#sapnap drabble#sapnap one shot#sapnap oneshot#mcyt x reader#mcyt x you#honey answers#my lovely anon#sapnap fanfic#bubblyhoneyfics
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35? 🥰🥰
35. An awkward kiss given after a first date (All-Human AU, Aged-Up Jukebox because I no longer remember how to write them as teenagers)
Rock Paper Scissors
In seven years of knowing Julie, Luke has never felt awkward around her. Awed and nervous, sure. Ever since she wandered into their high school auditions for Wicked, opened her mouth, and nabbed the role of Elphaba as a freaking ninth grader, she’s had his full, often fumbled, attention and adoration.
But he hadn’t ever meant to ask her out. She’s been one of his best friends for years, and they’ve been each other’s first sounding board for song ideas—her for her solo career, him for Sunset Curve—and he’d never wanted to mess with that. But last week, they’d been working in their shared rental studio until late in the night, and he’d been too sleep-deprived and too overwhelmed by her beauty in the low, golden lighting of the music stand lamps and so he’d asked “You wanna get dinner this week?” without a thought because he is an actual disaster—
“Of course.”
Two greatest words spoken in the English language? Confirmed.
But the actual date is… weird. When he picks her up at her place and tells her that she looks really pretty, she immediately focuses on her feet and mumbles, “Oh, um, thanks.” And she then proceeds to act aggressively normal on their date, making the same jokes, the same banter, the same musical conversations. Which is exactly what he wants out of a relationship with her, but the vibe is off. He thought there would at least be some soft looks and sheepish smiles and discussion of feelings. But it feels the same as every single dinner they’ve ever had. In a last, desperate attempt to capture some date-like vibes, he leaves his left hand stretched toward the middle of the table the whole night, hoping she’ll take it eventually, but his hand remains empty. And when it comes time to pay the bill, they decide who pays the way they always do—rock paper scissors—even though he’s heard her say that she always splits the check on dates.
So he’s feeling entirely wrong-footed, especially when he pulls up in front of her place and turns off the car.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
“… walking you to your door?”
She raises an eyebrow and lets out a bemused chuckle. “Okay?”
Fuck. Is this the worst date in the history of dates? She’s that desperate to just flee the car? But she doesn’t just tell him to stay, and she would have if she wanted him to, so it’s not a rejection exactly. Not a rejection of his presence, at least. Just of the concept of dating him.
He wants to drive back to his apartment immediately and sulk under a pile of sad blankets with some mopey Bob Dylan, but he’s already committed to walking her to her door. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and trails after her as she opens the gate of her building, the door almost slamming him in the face when he doesn’t get his hands out in time to catch it. She leads the way across the small courtyard to her apartment door and turns around, bemused expression still filling her face. “Ta-da?”
He chuckles nervously. “Okay, I get it. Don’t walk you to your door.”
She forces a smile. “Just seems a bit excessive.”
The same nervous chuckle slips out of his lips as he rubs the back of his head. She tracks the movement of his arm, eyebrows wrinkled in confusion.
“Uh, thanks for coming out tonight,” he says.
“Well, you paid. So thanks for that.”
“Thanks for being a really predictable rock paper scissors player.”
For the first time since he stopped the car, the confusion and awkward tension drops from her body and she shifts closer to him. “What?”
“You always do paper if your meal was the cheaper one, and scissors if your meal was more expensive. Like you’re trying to get more aggressive to make sure you pay the bill?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yeah, you do.”
Her mouth falls slightly open as she looks off to the side, like she’s replaying every game of rock paper scissors she’s ever played. “I… huh.” She cuts her eyes to him, peering up at him partially through her eyelashes. “Are you saying the game’s been rigged this whole time?”
“Pretty much.” She narrows her eyes, so he bumps her elbow with his. “I keep it even. For now. You’re pulling bigger royalty checks than we are these days.”
She snorts. “Right, cause that’s where we make our money. Royalties.”
“Any day, you’re gonna be filling the Garden, and then I’m definitely letting you win every time.”
She swings in closer, peering up at him from a distance that’s… unfair to the continued function of his brain, honestly. “So my reward for getting rich and famous is that I get to buy you dinner?”
“Or you could get better at rock paper scissors, but that’s probably impossible.”
“And me getting famous isn’t?”
“Nah, that’s inevitable.”
She’s gazing up at him with this unbelievably fond, open expression, eyes resting on his face like he’s her own personal source of joy, and it finally feels like a date. A different kind of tension running between them that’s filled with anticipation and affection. And when her eyes flick to his mouth, he doesn’t let himself second-guess before leaning down and pressing his lips to hers.
The height difference, which he’s never thought of as substantial before, makes it awkward, and his lips land slightly off-center, but the bigger issue is that she leans back almost as soon as his lips find hers.
Fuck.
“What was that?” she exclaims.
He holds up his hands and skips back, giving her space. “I’m so sorry, I completely misread that.”
Her hand comes up to her lips, tracing the skin like she’s just woken up from a very immersive dream. Her eyes slowly drift to his. “Wait. Was this a date?”
What.
“Uhh, yeah. I asked you to dinner.”
“We have dinner basically every week.”
“But I never ask. It’s always, like, ‘you’re up for food, yeah?,’ not ‘do you wanna go to dinner?’”
Oh god, why is he so bad with his words when he’s not writing lyrics? How did he so totally screw up this amazing, precious, important thing they have?
But she bursts into giggles. “That’s not a clear enough distinction.”
“I thought it was pretty clear,” he mumbles.
She steps in closer, a bright smile sliding over her face, and hope slips into his chest as she tilts her chin up. “No. Here’s how you ask someone out: Luke Patterson, do you want to go out with me?”
Is it possible to overload his heart with happiness? He cups her face, grinning as he thumbs the soft skin of her cheek.
“Yeah. You free tonight?”
She pops up on her tiptoes and presses her lips against his: sweet, gentle, pure, and filled with a fondness than even his insecurities can’t deny. Before he can get lost in the kiss, she pulls back and rolls her eyes at him.
“Of course. All you had to do was ask.”
#jukebox#juke#palina#julie x luke#luke x julie#jatp#jatp fic#my fic#my fic link#pearlcaddy tumblr fic#prompt#pearlcaddy kiss prompt
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Post fix concept #1- how did gray propose???!
this makes me so 🥺
Indiana barely had time to let out the breath she had been holding before Grayson’s lips were on hers. He pulled her to him by her hip, grateful that there wasn’t a barrier between their seats.
“I’m so fucking proud of you.”
Indy smiled, her adrenaline still pumping enough to make her fingers shake as she ran them over his scruff. She rested her forehead against his for a moment, catching her breath as the flight attendant came over the intercom.
“G’day, ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the Sydney Australia Airport. Local time is 9:04 am and the temperature is a lovely 29 degrees. For your safety and comfort, please remain seated with your seat belt fastened until the Captain turns off the fasten seatbelt sign.”
“29, what is that, like 85 fahrenheit?” Indy asked, eyes moving to the windows that were opening on the opposite side of the aisle. They revealed a new place, a new world. It felt different somehow. Calm, and welcoming as she looked out over warm tones of brown and the far off ocean.
Grayson looked up the aisle, spotting his brother and Eden in first class, peaking their heads out to look back and check on Indy, no doubt. He threw them a quick thumbs up while Indy wasn’t looking. There had been a few moments on the flight he’d missed his usual first class ticket across the pond. But he knew with the wall between the seats, he’d have more trouble getting to Indy if she needed him. So, they went one step down, to the reclining wide seats next to each other in economy plus, big enough for Indy to climb over into his seat and sleep throughout the 15 hour flight if she needed him. Most people were there so long they forgot they were even in the air.
Indy didn’t. She slept more than she expected to though, only lulled off by Grayson’s gentle snores in her ear as he held her tight. Her body was confused, but it wasn’t anything worse than a hard 12 hour shift at the hospital. Still, her adrenaline from landing made her legs wobble when she stood in the aisle, hard enough for Grayson to stabilize her hips from behind her.
“You good?”
“Yeah, just ready to finally be off a plane,” she chuckled, reaching back to squeeze his fingers as they squeezed her waist. The group walked slowly through the line of people, made it through the airport, got their bags and made it out relatively quickly, and fresh air never smelled sweeter than on the curb before they climbed into their uber.
It didn’t hit Indy until they were there, scrunched up in the back with her between both the twins and Eden in the passenger seat.
“I did it. I actually fucking did it,” she said to herself. She turned to Grayson with a smile. “We’re here. I’m in fucking Australia!” Despite herself, she started to tear up a bit. Somewhere, tucked away, was ten year old Indy, leaping for joy at the fact that she’d accomplished something she never thought she’d be able to do.
“Hell yeah we are!” Ethan cheered, wrapping an arm around Indy’s shoulder and shaking her just barely. “Proud of you sis.”
Indy blinked back her tears and leaned against Grayson, closing her eyes as they made their way to their home for the next week and a half.
Grayson held her head against his shoulder for every bump and turn they encountered, turning his head to kiss her hair.
His mind? Well, other than keeping his girl comfortable, it was wandering to his bag in the back. Specifically, to a small wooden box that was wrapped up in one of his speedos for safe keeping.
A box that Grayson was paranoid that Indy would find every minute that he didn’t have his eyes on her. He’d been so excited to show her his favorite place, and even more excited to have his girlfriend all to himself in a king size bed that he hadn’t bothered to find a better hiding spot for it.
It worked out - there wasn’t a minute that he didn’t want to spend with her anyways. They packed their days with everything adventurous they could think of - snorkeling, beach days, exploring the outback. They went ziplining, and held koalas and pet kangaroos and learned about Australian history and culture.
Every night, they found themselves showering off the day together and crawling into bed with just enough energy left to get lost in the rhythm of Grayson’s hips and the sound of their lips on each other’s skin.
Except for the night of September 23rd. That night, Grayson put on his nicest shorts with pockets and slid the ring box into them with shaky hands before he went down the hall to find his brother.
Ethan perked up, confused for a moment before he smiled.
“Today’s the day huh?”
“Yeah. I think so.”
“You know so. You sure you don’t want me to take pictures or anything?”
“Nah, just want it to be us. I’m fucking scared bro.”
“That just means you love her. “ Ethan stood up and pulled his twin in by the shoulder, giving him a tight hug. “You got this man. Can’t wait to see you all when you get back.”
Grayson nodded and tried to settle his breathing down.
It picked right back up when he walked into the room and saw Indy in front of the mirror. She was in a sundress - a short dusty blue number that kissed the tops of her thighs, resting delicately on the curve of her ass while she leaned closer to the mirror to put on her mascara.
She smiled when she saw him, finishing quickly and turning around.
“Hi baby. I’m almost ready, just gotta pick out a lipstick.”
“Lipstick makes you sticky when I kiss you,” he pouted, making her roll her eyes playfully at him.
“Fine. Just for you.” She kissed him softly as if to prove her point, humming when he pulled her in by the hips. She melted against him for a moment, getting lost in his like she always did before her mind wandered back to her.
“We’re gonna be late to our reservations.”
“I made them for later. Wanted to show you something first.”
Indy was never one for surprises growing up, but the nervous excitement was welcomed now. She knew she could trust him, wholly, with anything. So she slid her shoes on took his hand and let him lead her to the car.
She bit her tongue when she wanted to ask where they were going, what they were doing. But it didn’t stop the worry when she pressed her fingers into Grayson’s wrist in the car, pausing the hearts she was tracing.
“Your pulse is 104. Are you good?”
“Okay human apple watch,” he laughed, pulling his arm away from her dramatically for a moment before giving it right back. “I’m fine baby. Maybe you just make my heart race.”
Indy snorted. “You wanna pull over for me to throw up or should I just do it out the window as we’re going.”
She kissed the back of his hand as they laughed.
Grayson on the other hand was 99% sure he was the one who would puke when he put the rental car in park.
Indy cocked her head to the side for a moment. Then she craned her neck up, trying to see over the embankment.
“Is the restaurant down there somewhere.”
In a moment of panic, Grayson raced to put his hand over her eyes, hitting her nose in the process.
“Okay ow?” Indy muttered.
“Fuck, sorry, sorry baby.” He leaned over and pressed a fleeting kiss to her temple. “Just close your eyes, I want it to be a surprise. Don’t open them until I say.”
“You coulda just said that,” Indy grumbled as Grayson got out of the car and went to her side. He pulled her door open, heart pounding so loud he was sure she could hear it when he leaned over to unbuckle her seatbelt.
“Okay, come out here.”
He guided her out of the car to stand up, putting his hands on her shoulders. He looked at her shoes - dainty sandals - and then at the thick sand they would have to get through to get to where he wanted on the beach. On the horizon, the sun was setting, painting the sky in shades of purple and pink. Avalon was the most beautiful beach he’d ever been to, and he knew it would only be even more special after that night.
“Get on my back.”
“Huh?”
“Just jump on my back,” he said, turning around and putting her hands on his shoulders.
“My ass will be fully out in this dress if I do that,” she countered.
“I’ll cover it with my hands or something, just jump.”
“So demanding,” she teased, but she jumped anyways. He smoothed the fabric down over her butt and held her up as he moved through the sand to the lookout he had in mind.
She rested her chin on his shoulder as he walked, eyes still squeezed shut.
“I hear the ocean,” she hummed, already content.
When he got to where he wanted, with the perfect view of the beach, he closed his eyes for a moment and sent a prayer up to all his angels that he would find the right words to say.
He sat her down gently on her feet and moved behind her, pulling the box out of his pocket. Slowly, he knelt down, watching her dress blow in the wind.
“Okay, open.”
Indy opened her eyes. The sun burned for a moment, and then she took it all in. The water was a painting of bright hues, reflected back off the sunset that tinted the clouds. The beach was pristine, fine white sand laying perfectly for as far as she could see in either direction.
“Oh wow. This place is perfect.”
And then she turned around.
The ring caught the fading light, sparkling in it’s little box lined with velvet. His smile was brighter. And nervous, more nervous than she’d seen it in so long. She watched him swallow as he looked up at her.
“Oh my god.” She covered her mouth, her legs feeling like jello beneath her.
“Indiana-”
He forgot his entire speech in the moment, and it didn’t matter.
“I love you. I knew I wanted you to be a part of my life from the first day that I met you. And then I fell in love with you, and I knew I was going to love you for the rest of my life, no matter what. I want everything, all of it. The wedding and the honeymoon and the kids and the good days and the hard days and the days when we’re old and gross but we still have each other. I want forever with you, and for me, marriage is the promise for that. And you have me, forever, no matter what. So... Indiana Jamie Cross... will you marry me?”
“Yes. A million times yes.”
She couldn’t kiss him fast enough. She crouched, cupping his face in both her hands as he stood up, desperate to have him. He wrapped his arms around her waist, spinning her around and sending sand flying that neither of them noticed as they laughed with tearful eyes.
indy was dizzy when he sat her down, hands shaking as he held up the box again. The ring was beautiful and delicate, with thin gold all the way around the stone.
“I got it custom. And I had them round out the top and bottom edges just a little bit so it doesn’t get caught on your gloves at work,” he explained.
“I love you so much. Forever,” she whispered, kissing him again just because she could. He breathed her in, squeezing her again before he pulled back and reached for her left hand, sliding the ring on, letting out a relieved sigh when it fit.
“Oh my god that really just happened,” Indy whispered, and all they could do was laugh and hold each other as it sank in.
Gray kissed her hair. “No going back now, you already said yes.”
She smacked his shoulder playfully, admiring the way the ring caught the light when she did. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, nuzzling into her hair as the swayed back and forth, soaking in the moment.
“Also, sad news. I totally lied about the reservation, and Ethan’s contribution is cooking dinner tonight. So we might be celebrating our engagement with food poisoning.”
Indy laughed into his shirt. “Well hey, at least if we’re puking our guts out later we’re doing it as fiancees.” The word felt foreign but somehow electrifying coming off her tongue.
“Fuck yeah we are. You ready to go home, or do you wanna stay another minute.”
“Just a few more minutes. I wanna remember this forever.”
Gray smiled his brightest smile and kissed her slow and warm before wrapping her up again, closing his eyes as they held each other again.
Against his back, through his shirt, he felt her finger move.
H-U-S-B-A-N-D
bonus: this is the ring :’)
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highway to heaven
summary: just you and tom on a road trip having the time of your lives. kisses, intimacy, and motel sex included. | based off of nct’s highway to heaven (eng. version)
pairing: tom holland x reader
warnings: smut, oral sex (blowjob), handjob, fingering, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, mirror sex, fluff
word count: 4k words
notes: this has been in the oven for like half a year - hope you enjoy it!
gif created by me | please credit if used
We’ll take the highway to heaven
and I can’t wait to love you all alone
We'll take the highway to heaven
On the 101, let's see just where it goes…
“Didn't we hear this song already?”
Tom spoke over the booming music and the whooshing from the open sunroof and windows. He turned his head slightly and pulled his sunglasses down a bit—not worried about the infinite road that hasn’t had a car on it for the last several miles—to steal a glance at you.
Sunglasses on, reality’s worries off. Your jaw was perched on your palm while your elbow relaxed near the bottom of the window. Tom smiled, snapping a mental picture of this memory.
You shrugged slightly, eyes focused on the side of the road. Everything was going by in a blur.
“Do you have a problem with it, Mr. Holland?”
A chuckle followed, “No, I don't, miss, I'm just wondering; your music all sounds the same to me.”
“Excuse me?” you half feigned offense, moving your free hand to lay upon your chest. “At least I don't listen to the same 90s hip hop music over and over!”
Tom bit his lip as he shook his head. “Now it’s getting personal.”
“Well, you started it!”
You moved your body closer to his and stuck your tongue towards his face. Then, he quickly grabbed hold of your hand and intertwined fingers.
“I love you,” he cooed into your ear.
In protest, your fingers didn’t reciprocate the hand-holding, but it only made Tom’s fingers grip a little harder.
“I know,” you retorted jestfully. He leaned his face closer to yours, still keeping his eyes on what was in front of him. A few seconds passed while the moment lingered in the air.
“Say it back, love.”
You shook your head with pursed lips.
“Aw, c’mon - at least give me a kiss.”
This time, it was Tom’s turn to lean a little closer to your body. He pouted dramatically, causing you to laugh. You succumbed to his simple request, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. How could you not give in to the love of your life?
It was the third day of your two-week vacation. The two of you had a general idea on where you were heading, but no specific plans whatsoever. No hotel reservations, no restaurants planned, no special sights to see - just you, him, some spare luggage, and the rental car.
For much of the ride, Tom’s free hand was always preoccupied, either holding yours, drawing shapes on your thigh, or fist-pumping to the road trip music. The highway was fairly empty and quiet, with the exception of the music blasting out of the car and each of your boisterous, never-ending laughs.
“Oh my god!” you squealed when one song changed into the next. “This is my jam!”
“Honey, you’ve been saying that throughout the whole ride.”
“You shush - this is my song!”
The beats and lyrics began to control your body. Without a thought, you pulled yourself up through the sunroof and stood up above your seat. Despite the lack of preparation of the wind blasting through your face, you still persisted and tried to rock to your music. As if Tom could read your mind, he slowed the car’s speed to let you savour the moment.
“Be careful, babe!” you faintly heard a voice say from below.
Adrenaline surged from your head to your toes. The feeling of the gust of wind through every inch of your upper body, the feeling of one of your favourite songs playing, the feeling of being with your boyfriend…
Pushing back your sunglasses, ensuring they wouldn’t blow away, you screamed the lyrics to the sky in elation. You were on top of the world and you couldn’t have asked for a better life.
Suddenly, Tom began to lightly smack your ass.
“Hey, hey! Hands off the merchandise!” you shouted with jest.
“I can’t help myself when it’s right in front of my face in a pair of practically booty shorts!” He paused for a moment, sliding his hand over the curvature of your ass. “Also, you have a really nice bum.”
Tom continued and you couldn’t stop laughing, even when he was trying to be sensual by kissing the back of your thighs. The song faded into the next, but you couldn’t care less.
With the wind still brushing against your face and the sights going by in a flash, you sighed into Tom’s touches, trying your best to soak up all of these moments like it was the last.
Sunset began to colour the sky in hues of purple and pink. Tom was driving towards this secluded spot nearby where the views were supposedly spectacular, according to a blog post he looked at. It took some time, but he finally figured out which exit to go through after several accidental exits and turns. Your temporary stop was at a cliff overlooking a small city nearby. The city sparkled with lights juxtaposed against the now darkening sunset. It looked too much like a scene from a movie.
“Tom, did you bring us to a make-out spot?” you tilted your head upon realization. He did the same and raised an eyebrow.
“Well, the post didn’t say it was a make-out spot… per se…”
You lightly smacked Tom on his arm before the two of you got out of the car to sit on the hood. Tom wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you in close. Both of you were awestruck at the view and sat in silence for a bit.
“I can’t believe you brought us to a famous make-out spot,” you whispered, eyes still focused on the sights before you. “But it’s not like I would kiss you anyway.”
He scoffed, “Yeah?” He turned his body to face you, and you the same. “You sure about that?”
A soft murmur released from your lips prior to the caress of your face in his palm. His fingers brushed some of your loose hair out of your face before his lips met yours under the stars that began to dance in the night sky.
The kissing started out soft. One hand on his chest, the other relaxed on his arm, giving it a squeeze here and there every once in a while. He rubbed his thumb tenderly over your cheek. The smell of the greenery and a faint mixture of his perspiration and natural scent was intoxicating to your senses.
Similarly, your scent drove Tom wild; you smelled sweet, something like berries or lavender, but nothing overbearing. One hand always kept you close and safe, while the other consistently casually rummaged through your hair. Soon, things began to heat up when his hand moved down towards your back, then towards your ass and squeezing it.
“Can’t help it—” he mumbled into your mouth. You giggled, followed by you maneuvering to straddle his lap. Tom held onto your waist while you held onto his sturdy shoulders prior to fixing your hair with the city view behind you.
“The city is beautiful,” Tom peeked over your shoulder, then looked up into your eyes. “But not as beautiful as you.”
“You are so corny,” you shook your head, but it only made you want him more.
Desire dripped when you pulled him in for a kiss. To no one’s surprise, the kissing became deeper and needier. The holds evolved into grasping and gripping. Both of you began to grind into each other’s bodies. When Tom found his way under your t-shirt and started to drag his nails lightly against your bare back, you leaned your head back as a groan escaped softly. Simultaneously, Tom enraptured your neck in kisses; more inflamed grinding and moans followed.
“Fuck, Tom…” you caught yourself pulling away to reach for his pants, but your logic led you to quickly drag him by the hand into the backseat of the car instead. You pulled Tom into your body again once he closed the car door behind him. Instantly, you went back to what you previously thought and started to unbuckle Tom’s jeans while you sat on your feet in the seat next to him.
“What if someone comes by?” he panted, eyes focused on your hands.
You shrugged nonchalantly. You needed him now more than ever and weren’t willing to give up any chances to make love with him, especially on your vacation.
“We’ll give them a little show.”
He glanced into your eyes and smirked, “You’re so bad…”
After capturing his lips once again, you bit his lower lip in response to his comment as you continued to fiddle with his jeans and belt. Once done, you lowered yourself to pull his underwear and pants down to his ankles, then comfortably adjusted yourself, with your ass up in the air, to begin stroking his cock.
Tom gasped and leaned his head back from your touch. It was only the beginning, but he was already so stimulated—the sight of your gorgeous body bent over his cock in the backseat of a car, your eyes looking up at him engulfed with a sexual appetite… you didn’t even have him in your mouth yet. A groan emerged when you began to lick his length from the base all the way to the tip. You took your time and made sure every inch of his cock was lubricated with your saliva. With each lick, Tom’s hands gripped tigheter onto the car seat while his cock twitched ever so slightly.
Once you felt he was teased enough, your mouth consumed him whole without warning.
“Ugh, babe,” he eyed you from above with wide eyes. You bobbed your head slowly, making sure Tom felt pleasure with every movement. His repeated groans were affirming your thoughts.
To even the playing field, Tom’s hand reached towards yous ass. He moved your underwear and shorts aside and inserted two fingers into you. You moaned into Tom’s cock from the sudden penetration, the vibrations only adding more to Tom’s bliss. Tom kept his pace steady as the moans kept flowing out of you and onto his length increasingly. The pleasure circled and tormented both parties evenly and immensely.
You pulled yourself up for a breather and began to stroke him faster than his fingering. Flashing a smirk, he too fastened his pace. You briefly kissed him before pulling away, having your perspired forehead against his.
“Not fair…” Words were difficult to form through the stimulation. It took you a few moments to execute your thoughts. “...You get more of a workout than I do.”
He laughed a little between groans, “Don’t-don’t doubt your ability. You’re not so bad yourself.”
You laughed at his joke, but the mood changed when you kissed him again. It was unspoken, but someone was bound to come first and you weren’t willing to lose. Neither was Tom.
You deepened the kiss. He sunk more into your touch.
He had his other hand squeeze your tits. You moaned more into his mouth.
You played with the tip and the slit of his cock, rubbing the pre-come all around. His touch on your breasts weakened and his fingering slowed.
The timing was perfect, the timing was now - you gripped his length and lit up your wrist, using all your might to stroke as fast as you could. Desperately, Tom began to call your name again and again, shaking his head.
“Babe, I’m-I’m going to—”
No other words were needed. His eyes flickered, then closed shut, before he quivered as you felt his hot come and soft moans trickle out, the former into your hand and the latter into the humid air within the car.
Thankfully, there didn’t seem to be anyone else who came around the make-out spot to witness your little show. You awkwardly reached over the cupholders and center console to grab some tissues from the glove compartment. Tossing some to Tom and keeping some for yourself, you cleaned each other’s juices off your respective hands before heading into the front seat once more. With his pants back on, Tom fumbled with his belt as you spoke up.
“I hope that was okay,” your cheeks tingled against the night air.
“Honey,” he gently placed his fingers under your chin, turning you to face him. “You’re amazing. I meant what I said before - don’t doubt yourself. Okay?”
You nodded and with a smile, Tom kissed you softly.
“I love you.”
Your stares lingered a little longer on each other; both parties in disbelief at how lucky they were.
“I love you, too.”
“Now, let’s get some dinner, shall we?”
Both of you took one last look at the surreal view before Tom started the engine to drive to the nearest restaurant.
You ended up at a 24/7 breakfast diner at the next exit over. Pastel blue and pink splattered across the restaurant like it was a blast from the past. With the rusty furniture and worn down seatings, it probably was a relic from its own time, but the restaurant was homely and kept well on its own terms.
Laughter, handholding, and footsie ensued between the milkshakes, pancakes, bacon, and the like. After you two split the bill, the waitress thanked you both and added, “You two lovebirds have a good night now!”
Beaming and knowing her words were likely to ring true, you left the diner with your arm linked through his.
Tom drove for a little while since the next motel was several exits away. By the time you reached it, you had fallen peacefully asleep. He carefully woke you up and helped you into the motel room after he checked in.
Likewise to the breakfast diner from dinner, the motel was a little run down. Although you noticed it had a few things redone and the walls were recently painted, the sink and mirror, which were directly parallel to the side of the bed, had some rust and cracks in them, respectively. Nevertheless, it would be your home for the night and it had one thing you both appreciated—working air conditioning.
You opted to jump into the shower first to wake yourself up. Afterward, Tom followed suit while you rested on the queen size bed and watched whatever was playing on TV, which had a mirror oddly placed next to the side of it. It didn’t take long until both of you were settled in bed, but neither of you wanted to sleep just yet.
Irresistible was definitely high on the list of words to describe Tom, especially when he always slept without a shirt and just a pair of underwear. Temptation oozed to every corner of the room when you two tangled in each other’s bodies and kisses, moving with ease and rhythm like a choreographed dance. All the clothes were either off the edge of the bed or already on the floor. The two of you let your bodies dance in unison and knew exactly what the other wanted.
Kissing his shoulders, especially that little crook nearing his right side of the neck that made him shiver.
Pinching your nipples, which were already hardened from the cool air and the pleasure, and even giving them a light nip between his teeth.
Hands running through his hair wildly, gripping a little harder than you intended to, but Tom loved it when you couldn’t restrain yourself.
His hand rubbing your clit in small circles, not enough to over galvanize you, but enough to keep you wanting more.
During a brief lull, Tom pulled your body from behind into his. Your back was against his chest and you felt his hard-on against your body. You melted into him, relaxing your neck onto his shoulder. He began to kiss the other side of your neck whilst keeping his hands busy by grasping one of your breasts and fingering your wet sex.
“It’s your turn to come first this time,” he whispered hotly into your ear.
All the attention was on you, making you feel exposed, yet loved dearly by Tom ensuring you would reach climax. Whenever you arched your back, Tom gently leaned back and pulled you into him closer, wanting to make sure you were comfortable. His fingers hit you in the right spot, edging you closer and closer to the first orgasm of the night. It was difficult to keep your moaning to an appropriate noise level, but Tom was devilishly good at this. Your panting and rising sweat signified you were close.
“Come for me, babe - come on my fingers like the good girl you are.”
Your abdomen was getting tighter and hotter with each passing second and when the waves started to hit, you grasped onto the bedsheets and crumpled them with all your might while bursting in glorious moans, consistent with incoherent ones and of Tom’s name, over and over.
Tom licked your come off his fingers and gave you a quick wink. Your cheeks tingled at the action, but, with practically everything he did, it also made you more ravenous. As Tom went to the sink to quickly wash his hands, you got up to grab a condom from your stash in your backpack. You quickly opened the package and had it ready when he came back to the bed.
“A little eager, aren’t we?” He laid on the bed with his arms above his head, showing off the definition and tone of them. You bit your lip, knowing he always did that on purpose, then sat next to him to roll the condom on.
“Shut up, you want me just as much as I want you.”
His eyes scanned every beautiful bit of your face and body. After rolling the condom on, he replied with a shrug, “I won’t deny that…”
The chiseled man was about to get up, but instead, you pushed him back down into his initial position, with his back against the bed board. Subsequently, you straddled him, hovering your body above him a little as you perched yourself up with your knees, and held his cock in your hand which was directly underneath your wetness.
“Do you want me?” you asked, touching and teasing his covered cock. Tom nodded fervently, eyes moving from your hand, to your breasts, finally to your piercing eyes.
“How much do you want me?” You teased further, sitting on his length ever so slightly and bouncing on the tip just a titch. A low groan released from his lips.
“A lot, love. Please,” he begged as he held onto your waist, trying to push your body down on him, but you wouldn’t budge. You bounced a few additional times then sat down properly, embracing his cock fully.
For balance, you grabbed onto his shoulders and you continued to bounce like there was no tomorrow. You glanced down at Tom, who groaned here and there with mad eyes, consuming all the pleasure and sight to see. His eyes met yours and he moved some hair out of your face. Unexpectedly, Tom took one of your breasts into his mouth and massaged the other with his hand, causing you to arch your back. Your lover’s spare hand gripped on your waist, then released the pressure to lightly drag his nails against your back. In between the sucks, his tongue flicked and circled around your nipple a few times. Of course, he wouldn’t forget to please your other breast too.
All the while, you attempted to keep your bouncing steady, but it’d be a lie to say both of you weren’t close to coming. Coincidentally timed, as both of you didn’t want this night to be done so soon, your legs needed a break, so you got off Tom. After your temporary stretch, Tom positioned you bent over in front of him in the middle of the bed, specifically having you perfectly view the mirror next to the TV, while your bodies were paralleled with the large mirror atop the sink.
“Is this okay?” He pulled your body up for a bit to rub your tits softly. You two had bathroom sex once or twice, so the concept or mirror sex wasn’t new, but to see all parties’ bodies and faces bared like this? If you felt exposed before when he fingered you, you felt naked to the core here.
But you always did like it when you saw Tom’s expressions when he fucked you, and you could assume he liked it the same. Replying with a nod and a kiss, you bent yourself over and were on your knees once again for Tom. Carefully, he eased his cock into your pussy. Both of you groaned from the sensation once it was entirely inside and both of you saw the others’ raw reactions through the mirrors.
He started off slowly, partially to tease you, but partially for you to adjust to his length. During this position, Tom’s cock often hit you deeper than the others. Once you two acclimatized to each other, Tom quickened his pace.
At this point, you were only peering at the mirrors once or twice. To be honest, you were embarrassed to embrace yourself like this, but you were getting railed by Tom fucking Holland, and if that wasn’t something to indulge in through the mirrors, then what were you doing with yourself? You turned your head to glance at the sink mirror and observed Tom insert himself into you repeatedly with his tight ass and sculpted abs and arms. He was initially focused on watching himself fucking you until he glanced to view the beauty’s reactions through the mirror, but he was surprised to meet your eyes instead.
“You love it when you watch me fuck you?” He kept his gaze steady and the sound of your ass slapping against his body grew louder and louder along with the squeaking of the bed. You hoped no one would come knocking at your door. Shallow moans and rapid nods followed.
“You feel me deep in you?” Tom started to pound slower, but more intensely.
“Every—” A pound. An unprovoked, loud moan. “Every inch, Tom.”
“You-you love my cock?” he panted, now looking at the front mirror next to the TV. He felt himself nearing and fucked you more rapidly.
“Fuck, fuck,” The intense feeling in your abdomen area was rising once again. You must’ve been dripping wet and making a mess, but you were closing in on euphoria alongside your love and could care less. “Tom, I love your cock so much—fuck, don’t stop.”
Tom tried his best to continue for as long as he could, but he could only manage for only a few moments longer before he came in the condom within you. Both of you collapsed on the bed, heaving and panting heavily. Your legs and, especially, your pussy, convulsed, riding out the post-orgasms and the gratifying pain that would surely be felt in the morning. Thankfully you had the AC to not only cool you off immediately after, but you knew the smell of sex and sweat would be rampant without it.
Ensuing the clean-up, you and Tom snuggled together under the sheets as you laid on his chest with his arm around you. You looked up at Tom with tired eyes and a sweet smile.
“I can't bear to leave you again,” Tom whispered, lacing his fingers with yours. The reality of the near future—the end of your vacation—began to form in your minds and both of you pushed the images away for a little longer.
“You know you never really leave me,” you kissed his bare knuckle, rubbing the roughness he developed during movie shoots and working out. Then, you held his knuckle against your heart. “You’re always with me.”
Tom chuckled lightly, albeit cheesy, perhaps you were right. A kiss on the forehead resulted and he touched his forehead against yours.
“Same goes for you,” he whispered.
The two of you said your good nights and cuddled snugly until you two fell asleep.
Even after the vacation was finished, no matter what would happen, despite all the worries and anxieties you had, you knew that deep down this is a place you would always have and where you were supposed to be.
This is where home, haven, and heaven intersect and coexist—
In the arms of your love.
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Lucky Kentucky ch. 1
Chapter 2
Hello there, this is my new Rockstar!Bucky x Reader fic. It was heavily inspired by my love of seventies mega rockstars, Almost Famous, Classic Rock, and a little bit of personal whimsy. I hope you enjoy, and read responsibly.
⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ : cussing, sexy times, drugs, booze, smoking, objectification, fornication, liberation, and a litany of other sordid topics and traumas.
Your name didn’t matter, at least not so far as you could tell. They called you Kentucky, sometimes if they felt cheeky, Bluegrass. You liked it, the first band that gave you that name was some shitty college band out of Detroit. They were convinced they were gonna be the next Led Zepplin. They called it quits three years later, a good old fashioned Rock n’ Roll suicide, booze, women, and drugs. The finer things always gets the best amateurs. However, their lead singer had a way with words, he came up with the nickname. He also wrote a beautiful song about a girl named Kentucky, who he just couldn’t swing, some big named country superstar sang the song and the last you’d heard he had been writing for the best of the best since. This earned you your title, Lucky Kentucky. A bit on the nose for your taste, but it made perfect sense. You kept following the music, you went to a band in L.A., the day you left, they signed a record deal with Sony. The next was a little English girl and her backing band, her first tour of England with you landed her a tour of the US faster than they could say ‘Burbon.’
You are what is known in the music business as a road manager, so far as you could tell, this was the job you were born to do. You made schedules, you supplied booze and other artifacts, you got hotels, paid off paparazzi, packed busses, and shoved half out of their mind rock stars on to stages in more countries than you could count, you couldn’t imagine any better life. You were the best of the best, you were who the record company called when everyone else had given up. You were a fixer, and an incredibly talented one at that. You had a gift for taking a mediocre side show band, and turning them into headliners.
So when you got the call from Tony and Pepper that you had to fix The Howling Comandos, you were shocked. They were big time, nothing like your usual fixer upper opener that you could make insta stars. They certainly weren’t your crowd, but you always had a problem saying no to Pepper, Tony’s company manager. Tony was a talented mixer, and a gifted album technician. So when he started his own label, it blew up pretty quickly. The comandos were the first band he signed. They had won Album of the Year their first Grammy season without even batting an eyelash. So once business started booming, Pepper took over the paper work, and Tony did what he did best, Fucking around with a mixing board. You had met them when you started working with Natasha and the Widows, a Blondie style punk outfit. They had a pension for eating men alive. Eventually, it got in the way of their success, so you stepped in and saved the band from total destruction. You and the starks had been thick as theives since.
“Tony, you mean to tell me, that the Commandos, the biggest artists of the decade, need my help?” You scoffed down the line, checking the Widows out of the last hotel of their tour with Greta Van Fleet.
“Yes Bluegrass, I do. Barnes is going through some existential heart break shit ‘cause ole bitch called of the wedding, and fucked the Guitarist of their opener. He’s been all drugs, booze, and sappy shit since, and someone’s gotta get the mother fucker back on stage. I’m Loosing money here Kentucky, something’s gotta give.” Tony sounded livid, there were very few times where Tony was as frazzled as this, so you knew it was serious.
“Alright, but I have conditions.” You sighed, you thought you could hear the sound of Pepper weeping tears of joy, but you couldn’t be sure. “I want the Widows to open, I’m not done with them yet Stark they’ve got some potential that still needs to be tapped. I want Frankie on security, I want Wanda for wardrobe and makeup, I want Vision for my techie, and I’m taking Peter as my Head roadie.” It was a big ask, but if you were doing this, you were gonna need the best possible team.
“Jeez woman, rob the treasure chest would yah? You want all of them? You just asked me for the entire roster. They’re on other tours! I can’t just- HEY! Woman don’t you-“ you heard a slap and an ow, and suddenly you were with the one and only Pepper Potts- Stark.
“Kentucky? You have a deal. You can have the Allstars in three months, everyone’s tours should be wrapping up, that puts you just in time for festival season. You up to it?” Pepper sounded like someone had just kicked her puppy. So you knew, you were the only one that could save the day.
“Virginia? Count me in. Give me the three months to plan and connect with the team and I’ll make sure James Barnes makes it onto that bus.” You could practically taste her relief through the receiver. What had you just signed up for.
————————————————————————
You’d done it. Six months, 7 bus rentals, 75 hotels, 107 plane rides, 20 festivals, 95 shows, 89 cities, and roughly 200 people later, you had managed to construct the American leg of one of the biggest and longest tours you had ever seen. All it took was two months, and 23 bottles of Jack Daniels, and you had done it. Now all you had to do was meet the band, and have your first tour meeting.
You had never been so nervous to meet a group of men in your life. Normally, these meetings we’re pretty laid back and informal. Lots of getting to know you, and goofing off. This time, you were in charge of a multi-million dollar tour that could make or break the band of the decades d ruin your career. No pressure. Needless to say, you were fairly nervous.
You were relieved upon arrival that the first people to make it in were the people who seemed to be the most reliable. Vision and Wanda were quietly whispering  to eachother in the corner as always, their hands gently intertwined as they surveyed the rest of their new subjects. Frankie was standing off in another corner looking like an immovable brick wall. His sunglasses firmly in place on his nose, looking scary as always. Peter was off with the widows flirting with their drummer. You didn’t think it would end well, seeing as MJ was a bit of a hot head, and Peter was akward and nerdy, but to your surprise, they seemed to be getting along swimmingly. Natasha and Carol were staring at a book full of something, if you had to guess, it would be song lyrics of some variety, and to your shock and absolute awe, Peggy had saddled up to Steve Rogers. Steve was the guitarist of the Commandos, and he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying her company. Tony and Pepper were chatting with Clint and Sam the drummer and bassist of the Commandos, and Bruce Banner, your newly appointed second hand. James Barnes was nowhere to be seen.
“Well, well, good to see that most of you have arrived early!” You smirked walking to the head of the table with your big box of tour folders, Peter moving instantly to help you. “If I have not yet made your acquaintance, I am Kentucky, just Kentucky, you may call me Bluegrass or Lucky, but I will always prefer Kentucky. It has come to my immediate attention, that you sorry suckers were in need of a fantastic road manager, and here I am.” You survey the room as you spoke taking into account every face that you could see in the room and making sure everyone was following. “Now, where is James?”
————Some unnamed bar across town ————
Bucky’s head pounded. Wether it was from the booze or the pounding music he had no clue, but he could tell that it was far too early to be in this booth.
“You really went for it last night Barnes,” Bucky looks for the source of the voice to find that, Luke Cage, owner of the best bar in LA, was unloading boxes of tequila into his storage cabinets under the bar. “You shouldn’t have either, you’re late for your tour meeting.”
Bucky absorbed the information, and felt it melt out of his brain as if it were nothing more than an irritating ear worm. “How do you know about that?” He sighed running a hand down his face and slowly standing to grab his leather jacket.
“It’s sharpied onto your arm,” Luke chuckled pointing to Bucky’s right arm in just about the only clean space someone could fine. “Steve came in and did it last night before giving about a hundred dollars to let you sleep it off in that booth.”
“Of course he did,” Bucky scoffed, “the punk never knew when to leave well enough alone.” Bucky quickly slipped his sunglasses over his aching eyes, as he watched Luke slide a cup of coffee across the bar. “Goodbye Luke, your bar is the only thing I’m gonna miss about this town.”
“Goodbye Bucky, the free live music, and the fantastic tips are all I’m going to miss about you boys. I’ll tell Jess you said hello.” And with that final fond farewell, Bucky left Luke’s bar for the last time before he was trapped in a tour bus for six months.
The drive to Stark Records was as second nature to him as tying his shoes. He easily glided in between cars, making record time to his place of employment. He parked his bike next to a slot that occupied the sweetest little red corvette he’s seen in a good while. The tune in the reference catches his brain and he starts to whistle the chorus, wishing the artist formerly known as Prince was still around. He walked past Sharon, the desk clerk, giving her his customary wink and a smirk, stealing a sucker out of her candy dish and wandering into the meeting.
That’s when he saw her, the hottest piece of ass this side of the sunset strip. She looked powerful, she looked commanding, she was covered in tattoos and wearing the best looking little black number. She was saying his name. “Where is James?”
“Right here sweet thing, I hope I’m not too late to the party, I’d hate to miss anything that came out of that pretty little mouth.” Boy was it pretty, the full lips covered in a red shade that he could only seem to imagine smeared all over her moth as she panted his name.
“Ah, yes there he is. Hello, James. Just in time to-”
“James is my dad sugar, I’m sure we can think of something a little more clever for you to-”
“Alright then Junior if you don’t mind, I’m trying to conduct a meeting, and I will not be letting a drunken moron interupt my carefully planned work flow.”
Bucky’s jaw snapped shut as the people around him, some friends and some strangers, laughed at the clever lady’s little barb.
“Alright then, as I was saying, I’m here to help. I believe in the Peter Grant method of representation. The you-have-a-venue-you-want-it-filled-I-have-just-the-band-sixty-forty method.” She said, flipping her hair into a simple bun on the top of her head, which Bucky couldn’t find more attractive if he tried, “I have made hotel arrangements for every show, I have made bus arrangements, I have planned for added shows, and delayed dates. I have brought you the best opener I have, the best artists, roadies, security, and technicians I could scrape together, and most importantly, I have given you my time and my trust. I can make your touring life as easy and as simple as humanly possible, or I could ruin it. However, all I want is to get you out there, grinding again, reminding your fans the reason they love you. All you have to do, is let me work, and focus on the music. Can we do that?”
“Doll? I like the way you think.”
“Junior? It’s gonna be a long fucking six months.”
#music#musicians#rockstar!au#rockstar#rockstar!bucky#bucky fluff#bucky imagine#bucky au#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes#winter solider x you#winter solider fanfiction#steve rodgers#sam willson#tony stark#natasha romonova#natasha romanoff#wanda maximoff#avengers au
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Because Two People Got Drunk: 23
Series Masterlist
Chapter 23
Summary: Your trip in Greece is coming to an end; conversations of the future and the state of your relationship ensue.
Warning: Swearing, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), kind of public smut but not really?
Word Count: 7200
“What do you think Ollie is doing?” you ask the next morning while looking into the closet for clothes.
“He is having a bath” Fred exclaims showing you a picture of Oliver in the bathtub at his parents’ house, bubbles surrounding him as he has a huge smile on his face. “Mom said when she turned her back to check on the pancakes he reached into the batter bowl to pull out a blueberry. The entire thing spilled on him so now he is having a bath.”
You both laugh as he shows you the pictures of your son covered in batter “he loves his blueberries” you say.
“Get dressed in something comfortable we have some walking today. But wear a bathing suit underneath” he places a quick kiss on your cheek before walking out of the room.
A few minutes later you are sitting in the passenger seat of the rental car, Fred’s hand gently resting on your thigh as he drives along the cliffside roads before stopping in a parking lot. You step out of the car and you and Fred begin the hike up to Akrotiri, his hand laced with yours.
Akrotiri is a village established in the Bronze Age as a fishing and farming village. A few centuries later the area had expanded into significant trade port with Cyprus and Minoan Crete. There is evidence of foreign pottery and copper discovered; indicative of the sophistication of the settlement. There is even paved streets and evidence of a drainage system.
When you arrive you see the village is built on the slopes of a hill, and has a view of the Caldera cliffs. In 16th Century BC there was a series of earthquakes which alerted the community of the possible eruption. The members of the community fled the area leaving behind many of their possessions. A volcanic eruption occurred and the town was covered in volcanic ash which preserved most of the settlement.
Archaeologists have been excavating the area since 1967; there is a path that connects the excavation site to the current town. Inside the excavation area there are walkways suspended above the remains. You explore the village and some of the buildings open to the public. The walls are decorated in magnificent wall-paintings, and there is a large majority of ceramic scattered around.
“This is incredible” you say looking around at the excavation. “Being in a place that is this old makes you really realize how small we are.”
Fred’s hand rests on the small of your back and he kisses your cheek “yeah how our lives are just a small moment in time.”
After a few hours you and Fred make the journey back to your car. He drives to a beach that has a few other patrons scattered around it, but is relatively quiet. He pulls out a blanket from the trunk and some sandwiches he had packed away, setting up a picnic on the beach.
After eating you sit on the blanket watching the deep blue water slowly crash against the shore. “You really are amazing” you say resting your head on his shoulder “you planned an incredible trip, all the details and I had no idea. Like genuinely zero clue you were doing this, you always surprise me.”
“I know I really am the best” Fred jokes placing a hand on your leg “let’s go swim” he says. You look to him and see that the heat is causing beads of sweat to fall down his forehead, glistening in the sunlight.
You both stand up and Fred peels his shirt off leaving him in his bathing suit, you smile as you breathe him in, his chiseled chest and broad shoulders. You step to your tip toes and kiss him, placing your hand lightly on his chest. Fred’s hand lightly touches your back as he kisses you back. You deepen the kiss bringing your other hand to the back of his neck. Fred pulls away, causing you to groan in displeasure. “Senere Kære, er vi ikke alene” he chuckles as he pulls your shirt over your head.
You step out of your shorts as Fred grins seeing you standing in your navy bikini. “Fuck your gorgeous” he says as he scans up and down your body. Your bikini hugs you in the right places, hangs low on your hips; your chest is practically popping out of the top. His eyes are locked on your chest as he pulls you in close to him placing a passionate kiss on your lips. He runs a finger up your side, playing with the knot on your bottoms while his other hands slide down your back stopping on your butt. You pull back slightly and whisper his words “later dear we are not alone” back to him.
He laughs “when did you start learning Danish?” he questions.
“Well my boyfriend kept saying things in Danish and I never knew what he was saying. So I decided to start learning the language. But so far I only know a little bit, still a lot to go.”
“Hmm, is that so?” he questions against your lips.
“My boyfriend and son are Danish; I figured it’s important I learn some. This way I can talk with some of your family members, It’s a part of you and Ollie and any other kids we have, so it should be a part of me too.”
“You are something babe” he mumbles kissing you.
“Also when you start to grumble under your breath in Danish about something I’m making you do I want to know what you’re saying” you joke.
“No idea what you’re talking about” he says staring at you with a smirk on his face.
“Really?” you question. “I remember a lot of grumbling and Danish being said when it came to hanging pictures in the living room. Wish I could have known what you were saying then.”
He looks down at you with his golden brown eyes, lingering as he grins down at you. “I don’t remember that at all” he says kissing you causing you to laugh into the kiss. You pull away and move into the water, you wade in the warmth occasionally stealing kisses. You spend a few hours on the beach before retreating to the hotel.
“You ready yet” Fred calls from the living room. You can see him in the living room sitting on his phone; he has called out to you 3 times already.
“You said we had to leave at 6:30, its only 6:20 so I still have time babe” you reply poking your head around the corner.
He turns his head to look at you “its 6:24 and you aren’t dressed. You aren’t going to be ready on time” he groans.
You walk away laughing and head to the bed where your dress is laid out. A few minutes later you exit the room in an emerald green satin maxi dress. It has adjustable spaghetti straps that crisscross at the back and has a mauve, red, peach, and green floral print. It has a high, fitted waist, with a flowing maxi skirt with a high front slit.
Fred hears you coming and stands up putting his phone in his pocket. When he finally sees’s you his jaw practically drops to the floor.
“Wow, you look incredible” he says walking over to you placing his hands on your hips. He gently kisses you on the lips “absolutely incredible.” You wrap your hands around his neck and kiss him back, “I still have 2 minutes to spare” you say when you pull back.
You turn around to walk when Fred pulls you back towards him “you’re missing something though elskede” he says. You shoot him a confused glance as Fred reaches into his pocket, and pulls out a small red jewelry box and hands it to you. You examine the box, noticing the gold border and Cartier painted across the top.
You look at Fred, and he smiles while raising his eyebrow at you while you open the box. Inside is a pair of white gold brilliant-cut diamond earrings. The main stone is surrounded by multiple smaller stones. The light shimmers off the diamonds no matter the angle you look at them.
“Freddie” you whisper “this is beautiful. It’s too much though.”
“Nothing is too much for you” he says. Your eyes finally meet his and you stand on your tippy toes kissing him. You bring one hand up into his hair and grip the back of his neck, while his hands slide around your waist. Your tongue dances in his mouth when you finally pull away.
“I’m going to put these on then I’ll be ready” you say walking to the mirror. You change the earrings with the ones you are currently wearing; Fred walks up behind you kissing your neck.
“They are stunning” you say clasping the second one. Fred runs his hands up your arms “just like you” he says kissing your cheek. You turn around and wrap your hands in his hair pulling his face closer to yours as your lips connect. Your hands grip his red hair, as he leans down, hands cupping your ass.
Your hands tangle as the kiss intensifies, you rolling your hips eliciting a soft moan from Fred’s lips. You finally pull away, you’re both gasping for air. A smile spreads across your face while you bring a hand up and wipe some lipstick you left on his lips. He glances to the clock behind which says 6:31 “told you we’d be late” he grabs your hand and leads you out of the room.
“Wow, look at this, it’s breathtaking” you say looking out at the view from the table. Fred booked you a table at an amazing romantic restaurant during sunset; it has dramatic views of the caldera and the deep blue Aegean sea.
“Yeah it is, but you even more beautiful” Fred says grabbing your hand and giving it a light squeeze.
“You are ridiculous you know that?” you joke rolling your eyes.
“I just don’t know if you know how beautiful you are” he says sipping his red wine.
“I mean you only tell me 5 times a day”
“Oh, I should be telling you more than that” he says causing you both to laugh.
You fall into a casual conversation as you sit at the end of the outdoor patio enjoying your dinner. You sit and watch the beautiful sunset, after dinner the waiter returns to your table to clear your table.
“Can I interest you in some dessert?” he asks returning to the table. You think back to the menu, and remember reading about the pies and cakes earlier. If the desert is half as good as the entre you know you are in for a treat, your mouth begins to water.
Without even waiting for your response Fred says yes and orders you the chocolate cake with caramel drizzle. “You know me so well” you say smiling at him.
“No you are just predictable with deserts, chocolate.”
A few minutes later the waiter returns setting down the plate with two forks.
“Oh this is amazing” you moan taking a bite of the decadent cake. Fred leans over the table and says in a hushed tone “I can’t wait to make those sounds later.”
Your eyes go wide, feeling wetness pool in your core. Fred keeps his eyes locked on you, a devilish grin on his face as he takes a small piece of cake on his fork. After swallowing a piece of cake, he sets his fork down and wipes the side of his mouth with the napkin.
He stands up, pulling you with him. He places a hand on the small of your back leading you out to the car. His hand slides down to your ass as he reaches around you for the door handle. Before opening the door you turn around and pull him against you.
Fred presses you against the car, his hands squeezing your hips tightly. You roll your hips into his, one hand squeezing his side the other firmly gripping his bicep. One of his hands slides to the high slip on your dress, pushing its way through the fabric. You bring your leg up and bend it, further exposing your skin.
Fred’s tongue continues to swirl around in your mouth, his large hand slides up your thigh, pushing through the slit. His finger grazes over your clothed core when you giggle and pull back. You hear Fred take a deep breath, before his mouth attaches to your neck.
“Freddie” you moan.
“Yes dear” he mumbles nipping your neck.
You playfully attempt to push him off you, but he overpowers you pushing you against the car chuckling against your neck.
“Babe come on” you groan as he sucks on your sweet spot one hand firmly squeezing your ass.
“Someone might come” you moan feeling his erection press into your pelvis.
“So” he says a finger slipping under your underwear.
“Ohh” you moan feeling him lightly graze your folds. “Our hotel is 10 minutes away” you say gripping his wrist pushing him off you. Fred smirks at you before re-adjusting himself and opening your door.
When you finally return to the hotel room Fred immediately pins you against the wall, his mouth attached to yours. Your hand untucks his shirt and makes it way to his hard stomach before finding his treasure line. Fred reaches down and grabs under your thighs, hoisting you up. Your mouth doesn’t leave his as he walks over to couch sitting down.
You sit on your knees and grab the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head before reconnecting your mouth to his chest. One of Fred’s hands slides up gently caressing your ass. His other returns to the slit of your dress, and begins to caress the exposed skin. He moves his hand to the zipper of your dress but before he can you slowly slide off Fred and onto your knees in front of him. You hear him mumbling in Danish as you start to undo his belt. After removing his belt you undo his pants and slide them off his large thighs.
Your hands slide up his thighs as you place soft kisses on his legs. Your hand begins to palm him over his boxers; you can feel his erection straining the thin fabric waiting to be freed. You gently toy with the elastic before looking up at him. You lock eyes and you pull them off, Fred lifts his hips to help you. As the fabric comes down you hear his hard cock slap against his stomach.
You bring your eyes down to look at it, precum dripping from the tip causing you to lick your lips. The tip is red and throbbing as you bring it to your mouth, licking him up. Your hands gently slide up and down his thigh as you place soft kisses on his cock. You open your mouth and move to take him in. You look up to him and Fred groans as you take him in your mouth. You start slow, gently bobbing on him, using your hand to take what your mouth can’t fit.
Your hand and mouth work together as you continue slowly bobbing on him. You pull your hand down to his thigh and begin stroking them up and down as you take more of him in your mouth. You continue your motions, taking more of him each time.
After a few minutes of having him in your mouth, you increase the pace. You hollow your cheek to take all of him; his hand comes to your hair moving it from your face. You look up at him through your lashes, locking eyes as he hits the back of your throat.
Fred rocks his hips, causing you to gag slightly as some spit dribbles out of your mouth. Some of your hair begins to fall in front of your face; Fred slides his hand in your hair pulling it into a ponytail behind your head. You continue sucking on him and stroking his thighs.
“Babe…I’m gonna…I’m” he starts to mumble. You feel his thighs tighten indicating he is almost done and you gently squeeze on them. You swirl your tongue around him a few times before you deep throat him and feel his warm cum hit the back of your throat.
You continue sucking on him until he stops. You lick him up and pull your mouth away and stand up. Fred pulls you into his lap and wipes some off your chin. He brings his finger to your mouth and you open it, swirling your tongue around his finger.
“Fucking hell” he says as you continue to suck on his finger. He pulls his hand from you and stands up throwing you over his shoulder; “Freddie” you squeal. He carries you down the hall to the bedroom, bringing a hand up to smack your ass. You giggle as he throws you on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you.
Today is your fourth and final full day in Santorini. The trip has been amazing, you and Fred have spent the days exploring the beautiful island learning about the history, and the nights tangled in the bed together. You fly back tomorrow at 3pm, so you plan on exploring the capital tomorrow.
You are in a light sleep when you begin to feel light kisses being placed on your core. Your eyes flutter open when you feel a tongue slip inside your walls. You look down and see a shirtless Fred lying on his stomach, your legs hooked over his shoulders; his hands gripping your ass.
A soft moan escapes your lips and you feel Fred smile between your legs. He gently licks the outside of your slit, tasting your juices. Fred moves his tongue from your left to the right dragging it across your entrance in the process, eliciting a sharp breath from you.
His tongue presses further inside your walls, his beard rubbing against your thighs. His hand slides under your shirt up your stomach along your rib cage, and along the outer edge of your breasts. He continues sliding his hand up and down the same trail a few more times getting closer and closer to your nipples each time, grazing your areolas.
He begins circling your breasts with his hands, occasionally pinching your nipples as his tongue applies more pressure. He begins exploring inside of you, finally pressing his tongue as far in as it could.
You begin to feel the ball building in your stomach, as you take in a few sharp breaths. Fred eases up the pressure, becoming gentler in his motions, earning a whimper from you as you were getting close to your release.
His tongue doesn’t move from you, continuing to fuck inside you with it. Your hands grip the bedsheets as his nose brushes against your clit. Your breathing becomes deeper; nipples are hard while beads of sweat develop on your forehead and neck.
You rotate your hips slightly, and clench your legs around his head. Fred increases the pressure, pinching your nipple.
“Holy shit” you moan; Fred increases his rhythm. Your orgasm washes over you; your knuckles go white as you tightly grip the sheets, your walls tense against his tongue. Fred doesn’t move, his tongue continues to thrust inside of you as your breathing becomes normal.
Fred releases your legs, and crawls up your body on his elbows. Sweat has gathered in sections across your body and you stare back at him with a smile on your face; you see some of your juices on his chin and in his beard. Fred closes the gap and kisses you; you taste yourself on him sliding your hands up his biceps as you scratch his back.
“Good morning” he mumbles against your lips.
“Definitely is a good morning. You should wake me up like that every day” you say kissing him again.
“I’ll see what I can do” he mumbles kissing your collarbone.
“You order breakfast?” you ask smelling the dark roast coffee.
“Mhm” he hums sucking on your neck his hand sliding under your shirt “breakfast is the most important meal skat.”
He lowers himself and begins kissing the exposed skin of your stomach eliciting soft moans from your lips. Your stomach growls loudly causing Fred to groan and laugh; “I guess you need to eat” he says crawling away pulling you out from under the duvet.
After breakfast you head to Mesa Pigadia a small, quiet beach with large pebbles and dark blue, crystal-clear waters where you take out some kayaks along coast. There is the occasional patron on the beach, but the area is relatively quiet. You pass by the red and black sand beaches along the way to some sea caves. “This is amazing” you say taking his hand as you step out of the kayak, “how long have you been planning this for?” you question.
“Not too long, just a couple weeks… or months” he says kissing your cheek.
“Is that all?” you question raising your eyebrow at him.
“Well I wanted this summer to be special, so I brought you to the place that I thought might compare to your beauty” he says placing a light kiss on your lips. “It doesn’t by the way” he whispers in your ear causing you to roll your eyes. Fred pulls his shirt over his head, leaving him in his bathing suit. You smile seeing his tanned and firm upper body.
“You know once you have the girl you can stop with the cheesy lines” you joke. Fred laughs wrapping his arms around your waist “not a cheesy line, it’s the truth” he places a soft kiss on your forehead. He hands you a snorkel and you strip down to your bathing suit before jumping into the clear blue water, Fred following behind you. You see the colourful coral and vibrant fish while you explore the caves. As you are swimming you feel Fred touch your arm, he points to your side, you follow his gaze with your eyes and you are taken back.
You see a 4 foot loggerhead turtle swimming a few feet away. It has a reddish-brown shell as it glides through the water with ease. You and Fred float in the water staring at it for what feels like forever but likely was only a minute before it swims out of view. You both pop up and Fred pulls out his mouthpiece “that was amazing!”
“I can’t believe we just saw that, that was incredible!” you say as Fred pulls you close and places a kiss on your lips. Your hands grip the back of his neck as you continue kissing him, floating in the calm waters of the cave. Fred pulls back “want to head back?” he questions. You nod as you swim back to the kayaks.
You step up onto the shore, water dripping down your sun kissed skin. You walk up to Fred and lock him in a deep, passionate kiss “we should get back” he whispers his hands lightly placed on your waist.
“You sure” you whisper, your hand sliding down his treasure line over the front of his bathing suit, you palm over him and feel him begin to harden under you. Fred grips your wrist and pushes it off of you, a grin on his face. You smirk at him; standing on your tippy toes you kiss Fred. Your hands snake into his hair, pulling his head down to you; you push your hips forward feeling him through his bathing suit.
His hands on your hip push you back onto flat feet, you grin up at Fred who pulls you in closer to his chest. “You’re lucky there is nothing in here for me to bend you over” he growls into your ear.
His hand slides down your back, under your bathing suit. He starts to stroke your bare ass as he begins sucking on your neck, a whimper leaving your lips. Fred grins before leaning down to kiss you, you feel his hands wander your body and don’t even notice what he is doing until you feel your bottoms hit your feet.
Your eyes go wide and you pull away from him slightly. Fred sucks on your bottom lip, as he brings a hand to your folds. He toys with the entrance, gently opening them up as you moan. He slips two fingers in and begins pumping them, your head falls back and Fred bites the newly exposed area of your neck.
“Fred…what if…what if someone comes” you barely manage to say as he thrusts his long fingers in and out. He uses a leg to spread your legs a little wider, bringing his thumb up to press circles into your clit.
“You should have thought of that before you teased me” he replies increasing the pace.
“Fuck” you mumble as is quickly pumping inside you. You rock your hips to increase the friction and hear Fred chuckle. He continues to fuck his fingers in and out of you and slips a third one in. The third finger brings you to the edge of your orgasm, the ball building in your stomach.
“Babe” you whine your hands gripping onto his biceps, trying to brace yourself for what you know is about to happen.
“You gonna cum?” Fred asks but you know he knows the answer. A whimper leaves your mouth as you feel your walls begin to tighten, just as you are about to fall over the edge everything stops. Fred pulls his fingers from you and wipes them on his bathing suit.
“What?” you ask unable to form a clear sentence. Fred steps away and over to the bag and pulls his shirt over his head.
“You think you get to do whatever you want. You think you can tease me all day long, well two can play at that game.”
Before you have a chance to respond Fred kisses your cheek and hands you your clothes “sucks doesn’t it?”
You pull away; Fred has a large grin on his face. You stand there for a moment locked in a staring contest. Fred steps closer to you and places his mouth beside your ear “you can try to take care of yourself, but it won’t be the same. We both know you can’t take care of yourself the way I do, but if you want to try I’m not in a rush.”
He doesn’t move, his breath on your neck sending goosebumps down your spine. You consider his words, and you know he is right. You can get the job done yourself but you know it won’t be the same. And the fear of someone showing up is concerning to you. You take a step back from Fred who is still smirking at you; you shake your head and huff in disapproval before shimmying your wet bottoms back up your legs and throwing your clothes over top.
Fred smiles, knowing he has won and helps you get into your kayak to make the journey back. When you return the kayaks Fred stops at a small café on the way back to the hotel to grab some sandwiches and salad to eat back at the hotel.
After you finish eating on the patio you head inside to shower the salt water off of you. You curl your hair into beachy waves and apply your makeup in a natural fashion. You stand in your wrap trying to pick something to wear when Fred walks out from the bathroom. You watch him walk by, his towel hung low on his hips, water dripping down his abs. His wavy red hair is damp, and you can tell he hasn’t brushed it yet, merely running his hand through it to pull it from his eyes.
“You know you could wear nothing and you would look amazing” he mumbles wrapping his arms around you playfully pulling at the strings of your robe.
You laugh lightly “you say that because you love it when I wear nothing.”
“Very true, but I do love you in everything and anything. I ordered dinner, so you have 20 minutes babe” he kisses your cheek and places a light slap on your ass. You squeal and jump slightly while Fred walks to the other side of the room to his dresser. You turn around to say something but in that moment Fred drops the towel from his waist. You see his large thighs, his tan line from his bathing suit; and his butt, that is a lighter colour in comparison. You have the urge to walk over and cup his ass when he bends over to pick out a pair of boxers from the bottom drawer. You can see part of his member as it hangs before he stands up straight pulling it out of view.
Your eyes slowly walk up his back, before finding his eyes staring back at you. A devilish grin has spread across his face; you feel your cheeks immediately go red.
“I see you like it when I wear nothing too” he grins before pulling his boxers up over his toned ass. You turn away to your clothes as you hear Fred getting dressed behind you. You use all your willpower to not turn around and look at him because you know if you do you won’t be able to stop yourself. You hear silence and you finally will yourself to turn around and see that he has left the room.
About 10 minutes later you walk out to the balcony and see Fred in a tight white button up shirt tucked into his khaki pants. Your breath catches in your throat as you move toward him. Fred hears your heels and looks up “every day you get a little more beautiful” he says kissing you. You are dressed in a white and blue floral romper, it has thin straps with an intricate crochet overlaid on top. “But if we’re being honest I prefer you in nothing” he growls in your ear.
“Same babe” you whisper.
You sit outside eating dinner and drinking wine together when Fred moves to the food cart the hotel left earlier and places a decadent piece of chocolate cake on the table. Before sitting down he pulls you into his lap. He takes the fork and feeds both of you the cake, your mouth waters the entire time. But not because of the cake but the man that is feeding you.
He scoops the last piece on the fork and moves to feed it to you, but quickly puts it in his mouth. He slowly pulls the fork from his mouth as your jaw drops “Frederik I can’t believe –“ before you can finish Fred locks you in a deep kiss. You can taste the cake on his lips “you know what calling me Frederik does” he groans.
You move to place soft kisses on his neck below his ear “I don’t know what you’re talking about” you mumble sucking on his neck “Frederik.”
Fred abruptly stands up; you practically fall off and burst out laughing. Fred picks you up throwing you over his shoulder carrying you to the bedroom. You reach down to grab Fred’s ass, but before you can he brings a hand up and places a smack on yours causing you to squeal. When you reach the bedroom he throws you onto the bed and quickly is on top of you.
He rests his hands on either side of your head. He leans down locking you in a passionate kiss. Based on the playfulness of the last few hours and the 3 bottles of wine you have consumed you expect it to be rushed and sloppy but find it to be soft and tender. You moan into the kiss as his tongue dances in your mouth.
One of your hands slide under his shirt feeling his muscular back. Your nails lightly drag up and down his back as he begins lightly sucking on your neck. Your hand moves around to his chest and you begin unbuttoning his shirt. Fred’s right hand slips down to your leg and gently begins drawing circles on your thigh before slipping it up under the hem of your romper shorts. He lightly strokes his fingers over your clothed core.
Your back arches as you push his shirt off his shoulders. Fred brings his hand up and pushes your straps off your shoulders. He helps you slide out of your romper, placing soft kisses on your chest and stomach. Once he has removed your romper he kisses your neck while undoing your bra. Your hands explore his bare muscular back. Once he has removed your bra he begins to gently massage your breast before bringing his mouth down the suck on the other one.
“Fred" you moan out as your hands slide down to his belt making quick work of the buckle. When you unbutton his pants he lifts away and rids himself of them and his boxers leaving himself completely exposed. You lean on your elbows and stare at him. You look down at his hard cock while you lick your lips; you see the leaked precum and think about is having him in your mouth. “Not tonight baby” Fred says pushing you so you are lying on your back and pulls your panties down your legs “not tonight baby”
He returns to the bed, lifting your legs over his shoulder while lying down on his stomach. He stares into your dripping cunt; you feel his breath on it as his beard grazes your thighs. He licks a stripe up you and mumbles “fuck you’re so wet baby.”
“You do this to me baby” you say causing Fred to groan loudly.
He continues placing light licks on you for a few minutes before he brings two fingers and slowly slides them into you. You cry out as he begins to slowly thrust in and out of you, while sucking on your clit. Your hand falls down to his hair as he continues to gently pump in and out of you.
You can feel your ball beginning to form deep in your stomach, but you know it will take a while at this speed. Fred knows it too, but he doesn’t pick up his pace. His fingers slowly curl in and out hitting your spot every time. His mouth slides from your clit into your folds as he licks inside you. “Taste good too" he mumbles.
At that moment his pace picks up his fingers being thrust into you. “Fuck" you cry out gripping his hair tightly. The ball in your stomach is close to bubbling over and this encourages Fred. His thumb massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out hitting your sweet spot every time.
“Cum for me baby” he says. You bring a hand up and start playing with your perked breast. Fred sucks on your pubic bone, as his fingers continue pumping inside you.
Your orgasm comes crashing over you; you grip his hair while your toes curl. Your orgasm is long, and Fred doesn’t stop his hand until you have finished. He pulls his fingers from you and replaces them with his mouth.
You wince at the feeling, still sensitive from your first orgasm. He gently licks up your juices and places light kisses on your thigh and stomach. Your breathing has steadied and you have regained enough of yourself; you attempt to push Fred to his back.
You want him in your mouth, want to taste his precum, but Fred doesn’t let you.
Instead he crawls back up, placing his hands on both sides of your head. He leans down and kisses you passionately as your tongue swirls with his. Your hand attempts to grab his shaft, but Fred grabs your wrist. He brings it above your head, before grabbing your other. He holds both of them above your head with his left hand and uses his right to line himself up.
You can feel him poking at your entrance, and as he slides in he leans down locking you in a deep kiss. Your walls being stretched by him causes you to moan into the kiss as he begins to set a slow and steady pace.
He pulls his face away from yours, looking into your eyes while thrusting into you. Every time he bottoms out before almost pulling fully out. He slams back into you.
His eyes are dark as he continues the pace, his forehead pressed against yours. Normally the slower pace wouldn’t have you reaching your high, but the feeling of him deep inside you, hitting your g-spot has your second orgasm of the night approaching.
“Freddie" you moan arching your hips into him. You want nothing more than to feel his biceps under your nails but he still has your hands pinned above your head. He lowers his face and kisses you, while keeping his pace. Your orgasm continues to build.
“You close babygirl?” he whispers in your ear, although you know he knows the answer. You open your mouth to answer but no words come out only filthy sounds.
Fred lifts his head to look at you; a devilish grin has spread across his face. “Words babe, use your words.”
You moan again as his hips snap into you, but you finally manage to whimper “yes.” His mouth latches on your nipple sucking on it. Your back arches as you move in tandem with him. Your orgasm is right there and as you are about to let go Fred whispers “wait for me babe kay?”
You groan loudly, unsure if you are able to meet his request “you can do it skat" he says still thrusting into you. You lift your hips trying to push Fred to his high soon and it works, you feel him getting sloppy.
Your eyes snap closed from the feeling of trying to hold back, the pleasure becoming too much. You keep them closed trying to focus on breathing so you don’t release without him.
“Open your eyes (Y/N/N)” he says as you feel him stuttering inside you “for me babe.” You muster the energy to look at him as soon as you look into his eyes your high comes. You are unable to control yourself as you spasm around him.
Fred’s dick immediately twitches and you feel his warmth spills deep inside you paining your walls white. When you both finish Fred places light kisses on your nose and forehead.
He releases your hands, and runs his hands through your hair “I love watching you” he whispers as he lays on top of you but somehow you feel like that isn’t what he really wants to say.
You begin to lightly stroke his shoulder and bicep as you doze off. You wake up a few minutes later when you feel the bed shift. Fred leaves and walks to the bathroom; he comes back a few minutes later in his boxers. He has a damp cloth and gently cleans you up, placing soft kisses on your stomach at the same time.
When he finishes he finds a t-shirt for you and pulls it over your head. He lies on his back, you tucked tightly into his arm as you begin to doze off when you hear him whisper “jeg elsker dig.”
“What was that babe?” you mumble.
“Mm, oh nothing. Go to sleep babe.”
The next day you wake up early, and are sitting on the large living room couch drinking coffee while on your phone.
“What are you doing babe?” Fred asks sitting beside you.
“I’m using google translate” he raises an eye brow at you. “Well as you know my boyfriend speaks Danish and I’m trying to learn it.”
“Mhm, I might have been told that” he says, his finger touching your shoulder.
“Well I don’t know everything so I still need to google some things. But I don’t know how things are spelt in Danish.”
He laughs as you continue “I did figure out what smuk means though, you’ve been saying that one for a while.”
“Well you are very beautiful dear” he replies.
“I’m trying to figure out what you said last night. Actually you have said it a few times now. Something like jeg elesek, jeg du ekelse. Something like that I think.”
He looks at you and smiles saying “jeg elsker dig.”
“YES! How do you spell that?” you place your coffee on the table and be begins to spell it out, as soon as you press the translate button and you look up at him. “Freddie” you say softly as you shift to sit on his lap.
“I have loved you since you came to Denmark 2 years ago” he whispers.
A big smile comes across your face “I’m gonna butcher this but…jeg elsker dig.”
He smiles whispering “close enough” he pulls your face to his as he kisses you, but you hold back not fully leaning into it. Fred senses this and stops, looking into your eyes.
“Babe what -?”
“Remember when Auston visited us?” Fred nods. “You made a comment…uh…said something about having another baby.”
Fred takes a deep breath “yes I remember” he replies.
“Did...Did you uh- did you” you trail off before Fred finishes your question “mean it?”
“Yeah” you whisper.
“Of course I did, wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t. I want more babies with you; I mean how could I not? Our first one is the best. I told you a couple nights ago I want see us with more kids. Do you want more kids?”
“Of course I do Fred, our first one is pretty great and I love seeing you as a Dad. Watching you with Oliver makes my ovaries explode” you say not looking at him. “But do you want another one now? You said something not using birth control and putting another baby in me.”
Fred chuckles lightly “Okay the alcohol might have made me not say it the best way. But yes babe I want another baby with you. And I’m ready whenever you are.”
“You don’t think 2 young babies will be hard? Oliver isn’t even two yet.”
“Oh I know it will be, but I know if anyone can handle it, it’s us” he pulls you in and places a light kiss on your lips. “No pressure babe. Can be now, 6 months from now, 2 years from now. Just let me know when you’re ready.”
He leans in to place another light kiss on your lips “it’s your body, and you are the only one of us using birth control. So whenever you want to get off it just let me know.” You bring your hand up to this side of his face deepening it before finally pulling away as you whisper “okay.”
“Is that okay I’m ready, or okay I‘ll let you know when I am ready?”
Green dress:
The earrings:
Your romper:
Next Chapter
#frederik andersen#Freddie Andersen#fred andersen#fred andersen smut#frederik andersen x reader#Fred Andersen Fic#frederik andersen fic#frederik andersen smut#freddie andersen smut#freddie andersen fic#freddie andersen x reader#nhl fic#nhl smut#fred andersen x reader#fredzilla#because two people got drunk#my writing
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BBS Dialogue Prompts #109
BBS dialogue prompts & sentence starters: [10]
VANOSSGAMING
What are you doing, you madman!
How did that explosion make you feel?
I was trying to find you for so long.
A lot of activity is happening at your house.
Why are you swimming?
I hated those guys you just killed.
I'm not even friends with them.
What movie is that from?
Did you guys win?
I heard an explosion, what happened?
Where's your house?
Why did you take his eye?
Who just died?
This is boring, I thought this was going to be fun with you guys.
I'm staying here.
I knew this would happen!
Of course we're going to die.
I knew it was you, bitch.
I have nothing to do with this decision, don't get mad at me.
How did you know, dude?
H2ODELIRIOUS
You backtracked and went the wrong way.
Here in the corner, she was right here.
I got the crucifix, I'll go first, alright.
Let's rob this damn house.
I don't understand how that guy is alive!
How is he alive?
No, this wasn't supposed to happen!
Let's do some sick spartan ass shit.
Never give up, never surrender!
He's getting his ass kicked.
DAITHI DE NOGLA
There's a lot more to this one than meets the eye.
I got pushed off, dude!
If you don't make it, the whole squad's going to judge ya.
I'm not made for this.
There's two dudes in here doing absolutely legit fuck all.
Oh, I'm just flying into the sunset.
I think you did a great job, dude.
Don't tell me he's dead.
I'm hunting his ass down.
I got this guy following me like a rash.
SMII7Y
If it's one of you guys, I'm going to be really angry for a few minutes.
I bet I can sneak around it.
Made me feel powerful, made me feel like I belong in this world, I actually have a purpose now.
My place got blown up immediately so I'm just returning the favor.
That's why you joined today.
You fucking dumbass.
Why the fuck is everyone here?
Where are we going to go?
You're so smart, this is why I picked you as my...life partner.
This is literally the worst person for this.
TERRORISER
It was getting quiet here, boys.
He's on his own little adventure.
Oh my God, I can see him too.
I somehow won that battle.
I died to a man with a shovel, are you serious?
None of you guys are doing the objective.
I turned around and you guys were gone.
Don't you fucking dare.
We're here for the diamonds.
I know, it's a rental and everything, we're in trouble.
MOO
I'm going to go back in and grab all the stuff that they dropped.
What have you done?
This guy is desperately hoping we'll beat the game.
Alright, one of you guys is going to have to drive.
Oh my gosh, we're almost there, kind of, still another mile.
Well, we're going to be stealing diamonds from them, so I don't think we'll be best friends.
This is so disorganized.
Let me reverse.
He's getting revenge for the thing he didn't understand.
I thought you, like, saw something on the security.
BASICALLYIDOWRK
What is this?
For what reason?
I threw a snowball at him.
I didn't want to drive, where are we going?
I did everything I could to let you kill those kids.
I thought you guys were going in!
Get in that car and skedaddle.
How high up do I have to aim?
Is my gun broken?
It's been three days...
FOURZER0SEVEN
Just walked up and bitch slapped him.
No, he took my kill.
My life flashed before my eyes.
What the fuck am I watching?
Oh, you killed both.
We have to cripple his addiction.
I give up, bro.
Shoot him, you fucker.
That kid got annihilated.
I did, he's my bitch.
SILENTDROIDD
I was waiting for you guys.
I'm happy you guys are here.
Alright guys, what's the plan today?
I told you guys there's new stuff.
Is that a slingshot?
Why are you like this?
I'm just going to stay in the car.
Do you think they'll write a movie about us?
I only brought an axe.
The train is going...to hit...you.
MR. SARK
You're wearing each other's fucking jackets.
Front doors locked.
I got good footage of that.
I put on my ghost filter.
Which way am I even facing right now?
I fucking hated High School, I hate it, I hate it here.
You guys rule.
That's right, thank you.
The other dad knows what I'm talking about.
I think you dropped that.
#banana bus squad#bbs#banana bus squad dialogue prompts#bbs prompts#vanossgaming#h2odelirious#daithi de nogla#smii7y#the terroriser#moo snuckel#basicallyidowrk#fourzer0seven#silentdroidd#mr.sark#prompts#writing prompts#fanfiction prompts#tw swearing#text#words
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Part of the Family
Pairing: Calum Hood x Reader
Words: 2000+
Author's Note: I love this picture of Cal. He's so fucking handsome I cry. So, @mysticalhood and I came up with this fluffy ass concept. Enjoy! xox
I was laying my head on Calum's lap, his fingers gliding through my hair as he was surfing through the countless movies on Netflix. I sigh contently, shifting a bit so I'm lying on my side, my hand resting on his knee. "What are you doing for the holidays?" I ask him, keeping my eyes on the screen.
"I planned to go back home for like a week," Calum answers and I turn back to face him, seeing his brown eyes already on me. "I actually wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me."
"Are you serious?" I question him, sitting up from his lap. Calum chuckles and nods his head. "I mean… is your family going to be okay with that? I don't wanna intrude by you bringing some stranger int-"
"You're not a stranger, Y/N/N," he cuts me off and I look up at him, seeing a slight frown on his lips. I shift in my seat, my knee pressed against the outside of his thigh and he reaches over to grab my hand. "You're my best friend. Someone I confide in when I feel like I can't tell the guys or my family. You're definitely my rock. Plus, they know about you. Well, Mali does anyway."
I blush at Cal's little confession, even though my chest tightens at the words best friend since I'm pretty sure I'm in love with the dork. I shift forward, wrapping my arms around his neck. "I'm so glad we found each other," I whisper and Calum's arms wrap around my waist. "You're probably the most real friend I've ever had."
Cal chuckles and runs his hands up my back. "So?" He mumbles into my ear before pulling away from me. "Will you come home with me?"
A snort leaves my lips and he groans, tilting his head back. "Sorry, sorry," I laugh and cover my mouth with my hand, trying to hold the giggles in.
"I didn't mean it like that!" He defends and I wiggle my eyebrows at him, shifting my body again so I'm straddling his lap.
"Are you sure? I mean, technically you already took me home since I've been here for like two days," I tell him jokingly and Calum shakes his head, resting his hands on my hips.
The blue-haired man looked up at me as his head stayed pressed against the back of the couch. "You willingly stayed for two days," he counters and I giggle, biting my bottom lip.
"Well, I happen to enjoy your company… and your dog of course," I mentioned Duke and Calum rolls his eyes, a smile forming on his lips.
"You're so cute," he chuckles and moves his hands to my thighs. "Can you answer my question for real now?"
I smile softly, nodding my head. "Of course I'd love to go to Australia with you, Cal. As long as your family is okay with it," I tell him while running my hands over his buzzed hair. Calum squeezes my thighs, the smile staying on his lips.
"Of course they're okay with it. I asked them about it a couple of weeks ago. They're pretty excited," he mentions and I smile down at him.
"As they should be. Since, ya know, I'm amazing," I joke and flip my hair back.
"I hate you," Calum jokes while laughing loudly, moving me off of his lap. I giggle, sitting back down beside him as I rest my head on his shoulder.
"No, you don't," I state and Cal hums in agreement, his arm draping over my shoulder.
"You're right, I don't."
-
My eyes were glued to the passenger side window as Calum drove the rental car through Sydney. I was in absolute awe at the scenery in front of me since I've never been to the country of Australia. "Holy shit this view!" I screech a bit, feeling giddy in my seat and look over to Calum.
"I knew you'd love it," he gloats and I roll my eyes, slapping the back of my hand on his chest. "Agh! Y/N, I'm driving!" Calum looks over at me for a quick second, his eyes wide while he rubs his hand on his chest.
"Sorry, but you slightly deserve it."
"How?! I just knew you'd love Australia! Damn!" He laughs and I bite my lip, shrinking in my seat a bit.
"Okay, yeah, now I feel bad," I mumble and giggle slightly. "Do you want me to kiss it better?" I ask and look at the side of his face.
"You'd like that wouldn't you," he smirks and I roll my eyes.
"Don't make me hit you again," I state and move my hand to tuck my hair behind my ear. Calum flinches, giggles leaving both our lips as he apologizes.
The blue-haired boy pulls the vehicle into his parent’s driveway, my nerves on high as I rub my hands together. "Hey," Cal pipes up and I tear my gaze off of the cute house to look over at him. "Stop worrying. It's gonna be fine. They're going to love you, practically already do."
I let out a nervous laugh as he tries to calm me down a bit. He reaches his hand over to grab mine, intertwining our fingers. "Thanks, Cal," I tell him and squeeze his hand.
He returned the smile before the two of us moved to get out of the rental car. We grab our luggage from the trunk of the car and walk up to the front door. Calum knocks on the door and I can't help but wrap my hand around his arm.
The front door opens and a middle-aged woman stands on the other side. "Calum, sweetheart!" She squeals and brings him into a hug. I smile at the interaction in front of me, clasping my hands together and her eyes met mine. "Y/N, right?"
I nod my head, swallowing nervously and she grins before letting go of her son to bring me into a hug. "Oh!" I let out, shocked at how friendly she is.
"I've heard so much about you! It's nice to finally meet the person who's made my son the happiest he's been," Joy states and I couldn't help but blush, glancing towards Calum to see his cheeks dusted pink as well. "Well, come in, come in! Mali's already here."
-
I was laughing at something Calum's dad, David said and I double over, holding my stomach as I can hear Calum chuckling beside me. We've been at his house for almost a week and the nerves I felt at that time have definitely disintegrated. His family was so kind and caring that I practically fit in perfectly.
"Oh, my god," I laughed still, wiping the tears from my eyes. The rest of the crew were chuckling as well, their eyes set on me. "Calum I never knew you were a little stinker."
The blue-haired man shrugs his shoulders, a smile on his lips. "There are a few things from my childhood you don't know and I'd rather you not know," he mentioned, sending a playful glare to his parents before a chuckle comes from his plump lips.
David put his hands up in surrender and Joy pats his leg before getting up from the couch. "I'm gonna start dinner. Y/N, sweetheart," she calls out and I snap my head up to look at her.
"Yes, Mrs. Hood?" I answer and she waves her hand.
"Please. Call me Joy. Would you and Mali want to help me with dinner?" She asks and my eyes sparkle.
"I would love too."
Calum's POV
My brown eyes are set on Y/N as she stands beside my sister in the kitchen, laughs leaving her lips. My heart flutters in my chest and I release a sigh, sitting back in my chair.
"You love her, don't you?" My dad asks and I glance towards the older man.
"I-I think I do. It's just kind of scary to think about," I tell him and he furrows his brows before asking me why. I lick my lips, running a hand over my buzzed hair. "I just… I just don't want to get my heart broken again. I swore to myself that love was stupid and then I fell in love with the greatest girl ever imaginable."
My dad rests a hand on my shoulder, squeezing it gently. "Love can be scary but it's worth it, especially with her. She's definitely a keeper."
Y/N's POV
"So," Mali starts and I glance towards her as I take a drink of my water, "how long have you been in love with Calum?"
I spit out my water by accident, her question taking me off guard as I look towards the living room to see Cal and David looking at me, each of their eyebrows raised. "S-Sorry, she told me something funny," I told them and they went back to whatever they were talking about as I face Mali. "I-I'm sorry. Your question really… surprised me."
She laughs and waves a hand, telling me it was fine. "Does that mean you are?"
"Is it that obvious?" I ask her and she shrugs her shoulders, leaning on the kitchen island.
"I mean, not really? Cal surely hasn't noticed which I'm not surprised," Mali laughs and I let out a sigh of relief.
I open my mouth to say something when Calum calls out for me. I look over my shoulder at him, seeing him motions his head towards the front door. "Come with me real quick?" He asks and I nod my head, smiling softly.
The two of us head outside and I can't help but ogle the way Cal looks as the sunset rays kissed his skin. "Can I take your picture?" I quietly ask and he looks down at me, a gentle smile on his plump lips.
"Yeah, sure, but only because I love you," he laughs and my heart skips a beat in my chest, staring into his brown eyes.
"I-I love you too."
Calum leans against the palm tree, the plastic cup in his hand as he crosses his left foot over the right. His right hand sits behind his back as he gives me a small smile. I hold up my phone and snap a couple of pictures. I giggle softly as I look over the photo, seeing how adorable he looks.
"How does it look?" He asks and moves to stand beside me. I show him the photo, his chin almost resting on my shoulder. "It looks good. Send it to me?"
I nod my head, doing it quickly as I can feel his eyes on me. I slip my phone back into my pocket and move my gaze to him. My breath hitches in my throat as we stand centimeters apart. I swallow hard, feeling his hand resting on my hip. "C-Cal," I stutter and my eyes flutter closed.
"I really want to kiss you," he mumbles as his lips brush ever so slightly against mine, "can I do that?"
“God, please,” I plead and take a hold of his Nine Inch Nails shirt. He brings his large hand to my cheek, his thumb stroking my cheekbone. His nose brushes mine and a shiver runs down my spine. Calum’s lips connect with mine and my heart goes beserk. It beats quickly against my ribcage as I move my lips against him, pressing my chest against his. His arms wrap around my waist, the palm of his hand pressing on my spine. My arms wrap around his neck and my fingers fiddle with the small hairs on his neck.
Calum pulls away from me after a good minute, heavy breaths leaving both of our lips as we rest our foreheads against one another. “Fuck,” he whispers and I can feel his breath fan against my lips. “That was… absolutely amazing.”
A giggle leaves my lips as I nod a bit, looking at him through my lashes. “It was. Kinda wish we did it sooner,” I mumble to him and he hums in agreement.
“Well, now we could do it every day?” Cal asks and I bite into my bottom lip.
“Are you asking me out?” I question him and pull away a bit, his brown eyes looking into mine as he licked his lips.
“And if I am?”
“Of course I’ll go out with you,” I grin before pulling him back closer to me by his neck, reconnecting our lips as the sun set in the distance.
-
Taglist: @bumblebet-20 @ashtonsunshine @h0tsos @sexgodashton @thebookamongmen @mysticalhood @myloverboyash @galcalirwin @smokeinherlungs @asht0ns-world @ashs-cheergirl @dashlilymark @shower-me-with-roses @therainydays4 @thatcheekychic @lukeskisses @latemikedevil @fayesfairylights @marshmallowtraver @trashbin2 @whatmakesmehappyy @itjustkindahappenedreally @aubergine-lips @cashtonasfuck @irwinkitten @feliznavidaddycal @talksopretty @bloodmoonashton @kindahoping4forever @pxrxmoore @maluminspace
#calum hood x you#calum hood x reader#calum hood imagine#calum hood imagines#calum hood#calum hood fanfiction#calum hood fic#calum hood fanfic#calum hood fluff#calum hood oneshot#calum hood one shot#5sos imagine#5sos imagines#5sos#5sos smut#5sos fic#5sos fanfic#5sos fanfiction#5sos x reader#5sos x you#5 seconds of summer imagines#5 seconds of summer imagine#5 seconds of summer
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Ursa Major
i.e. the beardrew fic 🐻😉
Read here or on AO3
*
“What brings you to town?” The lodge manager flashes Neil an easy smile as he holds the cabin key in one hand. They clink together just out of Neil’s reach, as though he won’t relinquish them until Neil has provided a satisfactory answer.
“Business,” Neil answers shortly, and reaches for the keys.
“Let me know if you want to squeeze a little pleasure in, too.” The manager, whose name badge reading Nicky is almost lost amongst an array of rainbow pin-badges, winks exaggeratedly. Neil keeps his expression carefully blank as he all but pries the keys from him. “Andrew will show you which cabin is yours. He’s chopping wood out back.”
Neil steps out onto the back porch of the reception building, takes one look at the guy ripping logs apart with his bare hands, and decides that he can find it himself. He tries to avert his eyes, but the man stops to watch him pass, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. He looks like such a stereotypical woodsman that Neil wonders for a second if he walked straight out of a Brawny advert, muscles flexing as he heaves a lump of wood half his size onto the log pile, several days’ worth of stubble dusting his jawline gold and a glowing worker’s tan defying the encroaching winter. He’s so stocky that Neil almost misses the fact that the man is somehow shorter than him, and for a moment his brain short-circuits as he tries to match his impossible presence to his impossible height.
Andrew – because this must be Andrew – barely spares Neil’s scars a second glance, eyes catching instead on the camera swinging around Neil’s neck. Neil’s hands go to it automatically – the device is worth more than his life – but he stills as Andrew drops the log with an earth-shaking thud. “Point that thing at me and I’ll break it.”
“I wasn’t going to.” Neil takes a step back, holding his hands in the air as though proving himself unarmed. “Sorry.”
“Whatever.” He turns back to his work, and without looking at him, adds “Yours is the last on the left.”
Neil makes no effort to hide his relief as he turns and heads up towards the row of log cabins, stumbling over exposed tree roots and pushing branches out of the way where the trees have begun encroaching on the dirt path. The place is quiet, which suits Neil perfectly; he didn’t pick wildlife photography because of his love for human company, after all. Of the dozen or so suites clustered around the central building, only two or three appear to be occupied, muddy hiking gear drying on doorsteps, BMWs with kayaks and bike racks strapped to the roofs parked down at the car park below. Neil chose the single bus that runs back and forth to the town across the lake once a day over risking a car rental on the worn dirt track; for better or for worse, he’s trapped there for the night.
Not that he expects to finish his assignment in the span of a day, but old instincts cry out for getaway options. He and his mother spent months in secluded mountain ranges like this one, but they were as much a threat as they were protection. It was easier to hear of visitors as soon as they arrived in the area, but harder to blend in amongst non-existent crowds.
He dumps his rucksack on his bed – he hasn’t broken the habit of travelling light quite yet – and takes in the neat little cabin (cosier than he expected, like it leapt out of a rustic furniture catalogue) before grabbing his kit and heading out into the hills.
He loses track of time quicker than usual, as he always does when he’s in new places, busy taking in the lay of the land, figuring out which trails are worth his time and which are too packed with litter and foot traffic to be of any use. The vistas are breath-taking; glittering pearl lakes studded throughout the endless verdant valleys, mountain ranges that draw across the swirling skyline like theatre curtains. Landscape photos aren’t Neil’s strong suit, but he snaps a few anyway, just for himself. They never had photos on the run, nothing that could be used as evidence, no footprints left in their wake. Neil likes having the mementos now, thin slips of glossy film that prove that he was alive, he was there, that he was real.
Sunset has bathed the woods in rich oranges as he makes his way back to his cabin, legs aching pleasantly with the memory of a good day’s exploration. There’s a packet of instant noodles waiting in his bag and a kettle in his cabin, but the smells drifting from the eatery in the central building convince Neil to forgo solitude for an hour and cough up for a real home-cooked meal.
Either Andrew has shaved since this morning or he has an identical twin; either way, the man who serves him chunky soup and bread does so with the barest pretences of politeness. Neil ignores the chatter of the other guests and staff as much as possible, flicking through the images on his digital display as he chews through a freshly baked roll. Neil’s twin theory is proven correct when Andrew sweeps into the dining room just as dessert is being brought out, windswept and scowling. Neil watches as he begins arranging kindling in the hearth, and soon the room is glowing with dancing light. Andrew stares into the flames, and the flickering glow carves deep shadows into his features, as though his face is transformed by the light. Neil doesn’t do portraits, but if he did, it would be perfect.
He snaps his gaze away as Andrew looks up, unfortunately catching the eye of the man at the next table.
“Photography, huh?” he says, grinning. He’s muscular too. Neil wonders if there’s something in the water here. “Got any good ones?”
Neil hands him the camera in lieu of answering, trying not to twitch his fingers as the stranger handles his most valuable possession.
“Oh, shit. These are seriously good, like, professional standard. Is this what you do for a living?” He hands the camera back and offers a hand with it. “I’m Matt, by the way.”
“Neil. Yeah, I work for National Parks Magazine.”
Matt whistles. “Fancy.”
“I guess.”
“Well, I’m no expert, but those look great to me. What is it, a tourism piece?”
“Oh, no, these were just for me. I do wildlife photography.”
“Plenty of that out here. I come down most weekends, usually see a few hawks, eagles too. We get lots of bird spotters in the Spring.”
“That’s great,” says Neil, “But not what I need for this assignment.”
“How mysterious.” Matt leans his chin on his hand. “Tell me more, Mister Bond.”
“I’m looking for bears, actually.”
There’s a clatter from across the room that cuts off Matt’s reaction as Andrew’s twin drops a stack of plates.
“Did I hear you say bears?” Nicky appears at Neil’s shoulder as if from nowhere. Neil fights back the impulse to bolt. “Mine is working at the reception desk if you want me to introduce you.”
Matt snorts. “Not that kind of bear, Nicky.”
“I heard there were grizzlies up here,” Neil says. “What do you mean, there’s a bear in the reception?”
“Oh, that’s adorable. No, I just meant my boyfriend. Though he gets a bit grizzly before his first cup of coffee most mornings-”
“There aren’t any bears here,” interrupts another voice, and Neil needs to learn to stop jumping if all the staff are going to sneak up on him like this. He turns to see Andrew’s brother wiping coffee stains from his sleeves. “You might as well leave.”
“Aaron,” Nicky says, “It’s fine, he’s a photographer, he isn’t here to hunt or anything-”
“Pretty fucked up face for a nature photographer.”
“Hey-!”
“It’s fine,” Neil cuts off Matt’s objection. “The scars were my father’s doing. He loved hunting. Me, not so much.”
The group falls quiet, which is the usual reaction his explanation gets. He has never gotten used to the awkward silences that his past invariably invokes, even when he leaves out the years of running, capture, his mother’s slow and terrible death at his father’s hands, his last-minute escape, the months of FBI interrogations and his eventual release. His father had deer heads mounted in his study and Neil remembers vividly the glassy, dead eyes that seemed to watch his every move. No, Neil is not a fan of hunting; he has spent far too long being the prey.
It’s at that moment that Andrew looks up from the fireplace, and Neil can tell from his expression that he has been listening. There’s a strange understanding which has no place on this stranger’s face, and for a moment Neil feels as though he’s stuck in the amber gaze like a fly caught in a honey trap.
“Why bears?” Matt says, and his words are like a hook pulling him from a lake. Neil forces air back into his lungs and turns back to the group. Nicky’s expression has softened, eyes still on Neil’s burns, while Aaron has sunk back into disdain. “Surely there’s less dangerous things to photograph.”
“They’re not dangerous if you’re careful,” Neil replies patiently. “Treat them with respect and they’ll do the same. Besides, I like bears.”
“I hear that,” says Nicky. Aaron pops him in the back of the head, but he waves him off, undeterred. “You should talk to Andrew. He might be able to help you-” There’s a muffled thud which sounds suspiciously like Aaron aiming a kick at Nicky’s shins out of Neil’s line of sight. “-or not, you know, whatever,” he finishes lamely.
Neil glances furtively over at Andrew, who has gone back to staring into the hearth. “It’s fine,” he says, wondering why his mouth feels so dry all of a sudden. “I’m used to finding my own way.”
Desert finished and cleared away, Neil sits with Matt on the couches that occupy the other portion of the communal area along with rows of bookshelves and a desktop computer that looks as though it hasn’t been touched since the nineties. Matt flicks through more of Neil’s photos, stopping on occasion to gasp or croon, while Neil accustoms himself to trusting Matt with his camera. The coffee table is stacked high with leaflets on hiking trails which Neil sets himself to memorising as well as pamphlets on good camping etiquette and forest fire prevention. When Aaron returns and announces that the main lodge is closing for the night by abruptly flicking the lights off, Neil is surprised to realise how late it is already. The fire Andrew started in the hearth has collapsed into flaky grey embers, and when Neil steps out onto the porch the thick smell of smoke clings to his clothes.
Neil and Matt part ways for the night, but only after Matt has extracted a promise from Neil that he will let him show him some of his favourite trails the next day.
Neil thinks he may be unconscious before his head even hits the pillow, and the rustle of the forest follows him into his sleep. In his dreams, wild creatures circle his bed, close, curious, watching, waiting.
He spends most of the weekend letting Matt show him his favourite routes that weave up and down the mountain peaks. Neil wouldn’t usually tolerate so much company, but it’s clear from Matt’s eager nature that he likes having someone to talk to, and his girlfriend, he explains, is on a work placement out of state until next month. Neil is surprised to discover that he doesn’t mind Matt’s presence, and at Matt’s insistence he takes several shots of Matt posing with the valley at his back, which Neil promises to email to him for his girlfriend.
Their hike isn’t all sightseeing, however; Neil pays close attention to any tracks and prints that could point him in the direction of bears, making a note on his map of everything he spots in hope of discerning a pattern. He’s surprised to see a lot of marks close to the popular footpaths, and centred around the lodge, too. Bears usually avoid humans unless driven from their own habitat. Neil wonders if the owners have been less than careful with the bins, encouraging raiders into the foothills scavenging for food.
He spends his evenings in the main lodge, where Matt draws him into conversation with the staff and other regulars. Nicky joins them whenever he isn’t working, and will drag Aaron over when their breaks coincide. Kevin, who is renting one of the upstairs rooms in the central lodge, will occasionally be persuaded to look up from his laptop, upon which he is typing meticulous notes about conservation of historically significant ruins in the area, a topic which Neil pretends to understand on the one occasion that Kevin tries to explain it to him. Andrew, on the other hand, shows no further interest in Neil following their first encounter. Other than occasional odd jobs around the cabins, Neil still isn’t clear on what he actually does, if anything. He seems to spend most of his days out in the wilderness, although Neil and Matt never pass him on any of their walks. Neil almost asks Nicky, but thinks better of it, sensing that such a query would be met with more glee than he is comfortable with.
On Sunday, Matt packs his gear into the back of his pickup and rolls his way back towards the main road, promising to return the following weekend. Neil waves him off, surprised by how quickly the quiet chases away the hum of the engine. He distracts himself from the returning solitude by taking himself off the marked trails and deeper into the wilderness, where the trees grow thick enough to block out the sky and the trickle of springs leads him into sludgy banks that threaten to suck his boots from his feet.
Eventually the earth flattens out as Neil reaches the valley floor, and the springs pool into a small lake that winks at Neil through the trees. Neil finds an embankment to set up on, and is so absorbed in fidgeting with his lenses that he misses the faint crack of branches breaking underfoot.
A shadow looms suddenly in front of him. Neil looks up, and goes still, breath caught in his throat.
The bear hasn’t noticed him yet. He – which he must be, going by the size – is reared up on his hind legs, eight feet tall at least, nose twitching. Neil would normally be jumping at such a stroke of luck, but the shocking bright blond of the bear’s fur stills his fingers on the shutter. He would say polar bear if he didn’t know better, but he does, and they’re about a million miles too far south for that to make sense. So maybe it’s the surprising colour, or the surprise of being so lucky as to just stumble across him, but some combination of the two causes Neil to do something incredibly stupid.
He opens his mouth.
“Oh, you are beautiful.”
The bear goes still. Then he turns, hazel eyes fixing on Neil.
Neil suddenly feels very, very small. Rule one of tracking bears – don’t surprise them. Weirdly, though, this bear doesn’t react in typical bear-like fashion. There is no reflexive snarling, no intimidation, no panic. Just the faintest twitch of his ears, a huff of… irritation?
“Sorry,” Neil says automatically, then winces, because he is talking to the bear now, for god’s sake-
Then again, it isn’t like he’s doing any harm. “You are just adorable. I hope you know that you are so cute. Look at those chubby cheeks!”
And, okay, maybe he’s using the same voice he uses to talk to stray cats, but in his defence, how often does he get the chance to baby-talk a bear?!
The bear just sort of stares at him, which is… odd, probably, but as long as he isn’t snapping Neil like a toothpick Neil isn’t too concerned. The gaze is piercing, like the bear is seeing right through him, and it’s disconcerting enough that Neil almost loses his grip on the camera.
Speaking of which…
Click.
The bear… pulls a face. Neil is about to apologise again, but the words die in his mouth when he drops onto his front paws with a thud that shakes straight through the earth. The urge to run seizes Neil suddenly, hand-in-hand with a familiar burst of adrenaline, and for a moment he’s twelve years old, tripping over his own feet as his mother yanks him through the dark with heart-stopping urgency.
You can’t run from bears, is the thing.
Slowly, Neil pushes himself up the bank, leaning heavy on his arms because he doesn’t trust his legs to support him. The bear just…watches. No, glares.
All at once, the fear that seized him so suddenly is gone, and Neil lets out a shaky breath.
“Thank you,” he says, because it seems rude, almost, to do otherwise. He taps his camera. “You were amazing.”
He scrambles up the bank and back into the woods, heart thudding in time with his footsteps.
Back at the cabin, he plugs his camera into his laptop with shaking fingers. He doesn’t stop to check the photo preview on the camera’s digital display, wants to see it blown up on his laptop screen in full jpeg glory.
It’s been a while since he backed up all his pictures, and as the loading bar trickles towards 100%, Neil’s stomach starts to growl. Grumbling, Neil leaves his computer to finish compiling and heads down to the main lodge in search of food.
It’s midweek, so the dining room is emptier than usual, although Neil spots Andrew in his usual place by the fireside almost immediately. They’ve been successfully ignoring each other since the day of Neil’s arrival, but the day’s events spur him to take a seat at Andrew’s side. “Nicky said you know about bears.”
Andrew flicks a scrap of newspaper into the flames. “Nicky says a lot of things.”
“I saw…” Neil winces. This is going to sound insane. “He looked like a polar bear.”
Andrew huffs, although it’s hard to say whether in scorn or amusement. “You saw a Kermode bear. They’re a subspecies of the American black bear.”
“You see a lot of them here?”
“No.”
It isn’t that Neil thinks Andrew is lying, not exactly, but there’s something he isn’t saying. Neil knows the shape of a secret, how it weighs in one’s chest, and Andrew is keeping something big in there, bristling beneath his skin.
“He was beautiful,” Neil says. “The most beautiful I’ve ever seen.”
“I don’t care,” Andrew replies, and this time Neil swears he can see the bristling. “Don’t say things like that.”
“Why not? I’m a photographer. Finding beauty is my job.”
“Your job is to take pictures of shit and persuade people to pay you for it. Beauty is a construct.”
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
“Exactly.”
“But not in your eye?” Neil guesses. Andrew’s brow creases in irritation. He dismisses Neil’s comment.
“What are you going to do now that you have found your precious bear?”
Neil shrugs. “Onto the next assignment. Wherever that is.”
“Sounds like a strange life.”
“I’m used to it.”
Aaron clatters into the dining room, grinding their conversation to a halt. His irritation turns to an open glare when he sees Neil at Andrew’s side, so Neil moves off to take his usual seat.
After dinner he calls his editor with an update, slouched in one of the communal couches and watching as Aaron and Nicky squabble over a game of pool.
“Neil, I’m telling you, there’s no way you saw a Kermode bear.” Robin says as paper rustles furiously on the other end of the line. “You’re on the wrong side of the continent.”
“But I did. I wish you could have seen him. He was so… calm.”
“Neil,” Robin says, “Are you sure?”
“I have the picture to prove it. I’ll send it over as soon as I’m back in my cabin. Is this, like, a big deal? Do you think there’s some kind of undiscovered subspecies, or… I don’t know, this seems like the kind of thing bear scientists would care about.”
Nicky and Aaron’s bickering suddenly falls silent. Neil doesn’t bother looking up to see why, not when Robin is snorting on the other end of the line. “Bear scientists.”
“I don’t know what they’re called. I’m just the dumbass who takes the photos.”
“Maybe they’ll name it after you. The Josten bear.”
Neil winces. “Poor bear.”
“Alright. I’ll be waiting at my desk. But I swear, if this is another prank or something-”
“I would never,” Neil says innocently. “I know you find my pranks un-bear-able.”
“Oh my god, shut up,” Robin says, and promptly hangs up.
He’s eager to deliver on his promise as soon as possible, but Nicky catches him on his way to the door. Aaron disappeared at some point while Neil was on the phone, which is the only reason he accepts Nicky’s offer of a drink on the house, even if he won’t be persuaded from his soft drink of choice.
“That sounded like a big deal,” Nicky says, gesturing at Neil’s phone while not meeting his eyes. Once again, Neil’s neck prickles with the sense that something is being kept from him.
“Apparently I’ve found a bear species a million miles from where it should be,” Neil says. “It could be a big deal for you, too. Researchers coming to the area means more business for you, right?”
“Wow, yeah, sure.” Nicky’s smile is as pasty as it is wide. “Brilliant.”
“Speaking of,” says Neil. “I’ll be checking out a few days early. If you see Matt, can you tell him I’m sorry I missed him?”
“Sure,” says Nicky, although Neil isn’t sure he’s really listening. Neil glances at the amber liquid swirling in the bottom of Nicky’s glass and wonders if it’s stronger than it looks.
The temperature has dropped sharply in the time it took Neil to eat his dinner, and as he trudges back uphill to his cabin on weary legs the wind cuts through his light gear like a blade. His cabin windows spill orange on the path, a lamp left on, dumb, wasteful, isn’t he always complaining about light pollution-?
Neil stops dead a foot from his cabin door. He knows, knows, knows, that someone has been in since he last was there. The lodge offered daily cleaning services, but Neil had opted out for the duration of his stay, uneasy about strangers having access to his belongings even now that he has nothing left to hide. He wants to believe that they made a mistake in the cleaning schedule, but the same gut instinct telling him someone has been in his cabin tells him that it was no accident. Something is wrong.
Neil pushes the door open with the lightest press of his fingers. Adrenaline hums through him, old instincts reawakening as he prepares to be attacked.
The cabin is empty. No, not empty; the furniture, his clothes, phone charger, hiking gear, all still there…
But no laptop. And no camera.
Neil swears viciously. Before he knows it, he’s back at the central lodge, even though all the lights are out and they’re clearly closed for the night. Neil’s hand hovers over the bell at the front desk as the haze of his panic and fury lifts. They’re in the middle of nowhere, meaning the thief was either another lodger or a member of staff. Any accusations he makes won’t go anywhere.
Neil thinks of Aaron disappearing after his phone call, and instead of ringing the bell he clenches his hand into a fist.
The staff and permanent lodgers live over the main building, and although Neil has never seen the upper floor he can tell which windows are theirs by the glow on the other side of the curtains. The walls are made of thick, horizontal tree trunks that make for easy grips. Neil barely has his foot lodged against the first rivulet when he is caught in amber torchlight.
“Can I help you?” Andrew says rhetorically.
Neil drops back to the ground, teeth grinding together. If Andrew’s brother has resorted to a life of crime, there’s no way his twin hasn’t noticed. “Just looking for my things.”
“You won’t find them up there.” Andrew’s eyes flick up. “That’s Nicky and Eric’s room. I can only imagine what horrors would await you.”
“Which is Aaron’s?”
“You won’t find anything in his, either.”
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Neil snaps. Andrew’s expression is infuriatingly impassive, and Neil knows that arguing any longer will be as productive as shouting at a brick wall. “Tell your cousin I won’t be checking out early after all. It turns out I have more work to do.”
Andrew clicks the torch off, plunging them both into sudden darkness. “I’m not your messenger boy.” Even in the dark, Neil can feel heavy hazel eyes burning into him.
“I don’t care.” Neil storms back off to his cabin, not waiting for a response. He sends Robin an apologetic text and drops onto his bed. Half-formed plans buzz around his mind like flies, but when he eventually falls asleep, it’s with the memory of a ghostly-white bear looking into his very soul.
*
Thanks for reading! Chapter two is on its way. <3
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It's been over two months since someone snatched my camera bag from a rental car and stole my camera, two lenses, and the battery charger pack from me while I was visiting San Francisco with my Uncle and his friend Rob. We had just gotten back from a tour of Alcatraz and I had only left the bag in the car for 15 minutes while the three of us walked up the street to a restaurant to meet my cousin and a girl that he wanted to introduce to us. 15 minutes is all it took. Afterwards I figured that either the person had been watching me handle the equipment before I left it in the car, or they had been driving the car that was parked behind ours and took the opportunity to grab my things before driving off. I've since learned that San Francisco has a problem with this kind of thing and if I ever visit the city again I will keep this in mind and keep my belongings on me, but even so the fact that someone did this to ME, in the midst of a vacation where I had shot beautiful photos of Seattle at both day and night, from street level, Pike market, and the Space Needle, and where I had taken pictures of my first time seeing snow capped mountains in person after a long grueling hike in the evening BURNS ME TO MY FUCKING CORE. I WANT MY SHIT BACK. I filed a police report of course and even though I've called them multiple times to get updates as far as I can tell there has been no progress. I've even taken to scouring ebay, Amazon, and I've called what has to be over 20 pawn shops in the bay area to see if they've put it out for sale but I've come up empty. I want my shit back. I got into photography about 4 years ago when my Dad gifted me my Canon Rebel T1i and the lens it came with and I got pretty damn good at it. I took it everywhere. Crime isn't a problem like that in Birmingham and on plenty of occasions I've left it in my car just so it would be in the vicinity if I ever came across something I wanted to shoot. I have thousands of photos stored up. Some of them great, some of them not so much, but I came to love doing it. My dad realized that as well, and so over time he gifted me with two more lenses, which happen to be the ones that were taken. If you follow me then you've probably seen some of my photos on here at some point. I even created a Instagram account exclusively for my photography and I had recently downloaded Adobe Lightroom because I wanted to take editing more seriously with the idea in mind that maybe I could start selling high quality prints one day. I can still do that with older photos, but doing it to the photos that I took on vacation that I was looking forward to sharing is on hold right now. I know that some people who read this (if anyone reads this) will do so and think to themselves "He may not get that camera back", and I've heard it before from others but succumbing to that idea has not crossed my mind even once. Because the person who did that took more than just a camera, they took something that I loved and that was basically a part of me, and ever since then when I've looked at a beautiful landscape, a gorgeous sunset, or just simply think about my short time on the west coast where I had probably the best vacation of my life so far I go back to the moment where I walked upon the rental car not realizing at first that the window was smashed as I reached for the door handle, and I feel the same emotion that surged through me as I processed the shattered glass on the seats and what it meant: FURY. I want my camera and those captured moments back, and I want that person who dared to do this to pay for it.
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Part 12 | Sunsets & A New Normal | 6.7k words
‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.
A/N: &&&&& we’re back !!! I’ve set a new posting schedule for the rest of this story & will be posting every other week until the end of July. cannot believe there will only be 3 more parts after this one 😩
Sequins & Zippers Masterlist
General Masterlist
Here’s Part 12 !
She’s gotta stop comparing things, Aurora thinks. Her “normal” doesn’t exist anymore. This is her normal now.
A sweaty, t-shirt wearing, tattooed rockstar is her new normal. Who would’ve thought? Definitely not Aurora.
The familiarity of the dark, low lit SoulCycle studio feels like her old normal though. At one point, this was a home away from home in NYC, even in London. It’s comforting to clip the clunky cycle shoes into the pedals after adjusting the seat exactly how she needs it. The feeling of the rubbery handlebars on her dry palms causes her to release a breath. Aurora almost forgets that Harry is sitting at the bike next to her. They’re towards the back, Aurora prefers it here and Harry seems to as well. She can feel him look at her. A smile flashes across his face when she meets his eyes.
The room gets a touch darker and the music gets louder and then there’s a voice over the speakers. If Aurora thought the Dallas heat was high but this studio feels like it’s surrounded by fire compared to it. She doesn’t mind it though. After 3 months in new countries and unfamiliar hotels, the heat is the least of her worries. Aurora’s been craving some sort of familiarity. This studio is the closest she’ll get for a few more weeks.
Aurora lets herself forget about everything around her; about the stress, about Harry next to her, about the jetlag, about everything. She focuses on the beat of the music that she can feel rattle the room, the voice of the instructor and how her legs pedal to the rhythm of the song. It doesn’t take long til she forgets it all.
Class ends sooner than Aurora would’ve liked. How is it that 45 minutes can seem so long on a plane but so short when you’re enjoying something?
Aurora's unlocking one of the white lockers in the lobby when Harry groans. She hands him his shoes, phone and wallet then grabs her own bag. She gives him a questioning look, but he doesn’t see it.
“Ror, I’m sorry,” he says looking towards the windows that line the front of the lobby. She follows his sightline. “We’ll have to go quick,” his eyes dart across what is visible on the street outside. “I think there’s only one.”
Aurora can’t see what he sees but she can feel his change in demeanor. Harry tucks his laces into the inside of his shoes and slips them on, not bothering to tie them.
“One what?” she asks as she puts her own shoes on. Harry moves himself to stand closer to her, almost blocking her into the small space by the lockers.
“Pap.” Aurora looks up to him, shoe laces in her hands, foot propped onto the open locker. He drops a hand to the small of her back. “It’s not ideal, but it’ll be fine.”
Aurora ties her shoes and tosses her bag over her shoulder. “Alright, lets go.”
Harry’s hand moves from her back to grab her hand. As they walk towards the door Harry switches hands and moves to her other side, seamlessly. “The car is parked on the street towards the right. Pap is towards the left. I’ll give 'em one shot and they should leave us alone, but let's not hang around.” Harry squeezes Aurora’s hand. She squeezes back.
“Okay.”
Harry opens the door and moves his torso abnormally to block Aurora as much as he can. He can’t stop the paps from being here but he can limit what they see. He’s sure to keep his hand tight around Aurora’s. She can feel him pull, only slightly, away from her to show his face in the opposite direction. She keeps her head down and within seconds Harry is by her side again. Aurora can feel the slickness of sweat on Harry’s arm as he gets closer. The heat didn’t bother either of them, the sweat either. The sleeves of Harry’s tshirt are still rolled up and it only allows for more of his skin to press against hers. Aurora focuses on that rather than the possibility of a stranger in a bush taking her photo.
When they get to the big black rental suv Aurora can feel Harry relax his grip. He doesn’t let go of her hand until he opens the passenger door, helping Aurora in. He closes the door once she’s settled in the seat. Once Harry is in the driver’s seat he starts the car and blasts the AC.
Now the Dallas heat is top of mind. Harry takes a large gulp of his water and then offers it to Aurora. She takes it gratefully. Neither of them say anything until they stop at a red light a few blocks away.
“Think you could hold off on a shower for a bit?”
“What?” Aurora asks with a surprised laugh.
“The sun is starting to set and heard about this garden to watch it from.”
Aurora leans over the consol and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Okay.” She kisses his cheek again before settling back down in her seat.
“I have it bookmarked, will you pull up the directions?” Harry asks as he hands Aurora his phone.
The automated voice of the GPS guides them as they drive down unfamiliar streets. There’s a small smile on Harry’s face when Aurora turns to look at him as they drive into an almost empty parking lot. Before Harry turns off the car, he turns around and peers out all the windows. Aurora doesn’t comment on it and Harry doesn’t say anything but Aurora knows he’s looking to see if anyone has followed them. No cars and no new people stroll into the lot or walk down the path near the water in front of them.
Harry gets out of the car wordlessly and Aurora gets her jacket out of her bag at her feet. She’s met with Harry opening the door for her and helping her out of the car after she slides her arms into her jacket.
Harry is quiet and Aurora can feel that he’s still tense, the opposite of what he should be after working out. They walk in silence, both clearly seeking out the open bit of grass near the water where the sun is starting to fall at the horizon.
“Everything alright?” Aurora asks, voice soft. She reaches out to him and pulls him to a stop by his elbow. Harry turns around and smiles at her after shaking his head and running a hand through his hair,
“Yeah, alright, just thinking.”
“Harry.”
“Just feel bad that there were paps there.”
“You can only do so much.”
“I still feel bad.”
“Please don’t. If it helps at all, I felt completely safe. It’s awful that you’re good at it, but it is what it is. You took care of me. It’s fine.” Aurora smiles at him. “Honestly, I’m surprised we got through an entire SoulCycle class without anyone saying a thing to you.”
“Yeah, sometimes it’s surprisingly easy,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
Aurora sits down on a soft piece of grass and Harry sits next to her. “Come here,” Aurora says to him, hand rubbing on his shoulder. He shuffles himself in close to her, his back falling against her chest and shoulder. Harry immediately grabs Aurora’s hand that is resting at his shoulder. Leaning partly against her bent knees, she supports his weight fully. Her free hand moves to push his hair back, uncaring to the sweat that still lingers at his roots.
The sun in front of them is starting to disappear behind the horizon and the orange and pink haze that covers the water and grass and all the trees makes Harry’s skin appear much tanner than it is. He looks up to Aurora for a moment, his eyes more golden than green in this light. She smiles at him and can’t believe the sight in front of her. Her lips find his in a drawn out kiss and when they open their eyes the orangeness of the sky makes everything into black silhouettes. Aurora can no longer see the golden and green flecks in Harry’s eyes. He turns his head back to the view in front of them and sighs.
“Thanks for this,” Aurora says softly.
“Thought we’d enjoy a calm night before getting back to work,” Harry explains.
“Harry?” Aurora questions after a few minutes. “Have you thought about what’ll happen at the end of all this?”
A scoff comes from Harry’s chest, “End of all this? What d’ya mean by that, Ror? Got plans to dissapear once your jobs done or something?”
“No! End of all this as in end of tour, like come July, last show is done…” Aurora trails off. “How’re we gonna do us?” She asks the last question quietly.
“We’ll figure it out.” Harry’s answer seems so sure, like he knows there’s no way they won’t make it work. “Are you worried that the last show will end and you’ll go back home to New York and I’ll fuck off to LA or London and that’ll be it?”
“Don’t think it’s that.”
“Cause you should know that I would never do that to you. If anything, I’d follow you back to New York.”
“Would you really?” Aurora aks, surprise evident in her voice.
Harry turns his head so he can look at her, even though the almost set sun has casted a shadow across her face. “If you’d let me, think I’d might.”
“I don’t even have an apartment in NYC anymore, I technically live at home right now. Would you still follow me knowing it’s my childhood bedroom at the end of the trip?”
“As long as those old 1D posters are put away.”
Aurora laughs and gently pushes Harry’s shoulders. He barely moves, only jostles a bit, still all of his weight relaxed on her.
“We’ve got time to figure this out, yeah? Don’t worry about it too much.” Harry sits up then and twists around to face Aurora on his knees. Both of his hands land on the grass on either side of Aurora. “Anyways, you might be sick of me by the end of tour,” he says with barely a centimeter between their noses.
There’s only a split second before Aurora decides to close the gap between them. And there’s only another split second before she feels blades of grass poke through the fabric of her jacket as she falls the short distance to the ground.
On the drive back to the hotel, Aurora enjoyed the calm silence between her and Harry, his calloused hand in hers and both of their lips a bit more red than normal. Aurora thinks she can get used to this new normal. Evening workouts. Drives to go watch the sunset. Whatever comes in between. Maybe even making a routine out of it when tour is over, in whatever city they find themselves in. Even the hiding from paps part she doesn’t mind having to add in her new normal if it means feeling like this; loved, safe, content, happy… she could go on and on.
| | | | |
Aurora applies a face mask to her skin using precise motions, evenly coating the pale green clay like substance all over her face. She isn’t applying this face mask as her normal skin care routine. It isn’t a sunday morning or evening like it when she normally applies a messy face mask to rid her skin of any residue left from the week. She’s applying this face mask to feign a feeling of being put together, to feign feeling normal.
Her breathing is surprisingly calm considering the way her phone was blowing up only 15 minutes ago and the erratic heartbeat that was escalating with each notification. Said phone is face down on the chair across the hotel room and on silent now. Aurora washes her hands and towels them dry before leaving the bathroom, the facemask barely starting to set. She turns on the small coffee maker that sits on top of a small table across from the bed, next to the annoyingly large hotel tv that she never turns on. When it beeps and the light turns on, instead of brewing a cup of coffee she runs the machine just with water, a random hotel tea bag in the chunky class mug.
An unnecessary face mask and a random cup of tea. Aurora knows what’s happening. She wishes it wasn’t, though. She sits down on the chair that’s sitting in the corner by the window. The hot cup of tea in her hands keeps her present in some way even though she won’t ever be taking a sip of it.
She starts making a list in her head, a way to organize the chaotic thoughts that are clouding any sense of judgement she has, a tool from her college provided therapist.
She’s in Houston, Texas, in a hotel room, on her own.
She’s exhausted, maybe a bit hungover after too many drinks at dinner with Sarah and Helene after the Dallas show last night.
There are photos of her and Harry leaving SoulCycle in Dallas.
There’s a video from the show in Melbourne when Harry turned to Aurora during Sweet Creature.
There’s a photo of her standing in the mix wearing Harry’s black and white Gucci jacket.
There are thousands of tweets with photos and videos of Aurora, now, some from older shows, a lot from the Dallas show.
Many of those tweets are terrifying to her.
She has people coming out of the woodworks trying to contact her. She wasn’t secretive about her job. She posted about it on instagram when the tour started. It’s not like her instagram had a huge following (though it grew day by day). But now it’s getting 100’s of followers, likes, and comments by the second. Aurora didn’t even think about this, didn’t even cross her mind.
There are so many notifications coming through on her phone, she can’t even filter out the ones from her family, from Lelia, from Issac, from Harry.
She’s not upset that people know about her and Harry. She’s upset about the things people are saying. Flashes of news article headlines appear when she squeezes her eyes shut.
“Harry Styles falls in love on the bike, a soulcycle date for the books”
“Rumored Girlfriend of Harry Styles also works for him!”
“Spotted: Harry Styles’ new GF wearing the jacket from his voted worst outfit, ever”
“Harry Styles fans upset over rumored new GF”
“The top 15 tweets from last night after fans found out Harry Styles is dating his stylist”
She doesn’t like that she’s reacting this way. She knew that this was bound to happen.
She’s scared to move, scared to go anywhere, to do anything.
There’s a knock on her door. Aurora doesn’t recognize it at first. The sound of her heartbeat is loud in her ears and sounds just the same. There’s another knock on her door. It shakes her out of her thoughts. She stands up, the list in her head on pause. She’s shaking like she’s cold. She’s not cold. Aurora looks through the peephole in the door. She recognizes Harry’s eyes in a millisecond. Reaching for the door handle, she takes a deep breath. She opens the door slowly and only enough for Harry to slide in quickly, the door falling shut behind him.
“Ror,” he says with furrowed eyebrows and his head tilts slightly. “Why aren’t you answering your phone?” The sight in front of him is confusing. He expected Aurora to have shut down and panicked by now. Jeff called him and told him what he woke up to that morning-- emails from media sources, calls, texts all of it. The second Harry got off the phone he got Rory’s room number and here he is now. Surprised, concerned, broken hearted for her, and now confused. She seems calm, a face mask covering her face, her eyes aren’t red or puffy. Maybe she’s okay. Maybe Harry worried for nothing.
“I-I I turned it on silent. Haven’t looked at it in a bit, now,” she answers quietly. She may appear to be fine, but she doesn’t sound it. Her shoulders start to hunch, her arms wrapping around her own torso.
“Rory, are you alri-” Harry doesn’t even get the question out. She’s sobbing now, tears abruptly falling from her eyes. She looks surprised, like she’s confused by the way she’s reacting. Harry lunges forward to hug her but her hands land on his chest, keeping him at a distance. She motions to her face.
“Don’t wanna-” she chokes out, “get this all over you.” He nods, a small smile on his face at her priorities in this quick second. Harry instead places a hand softly at her lower back and walks her into the bathroom. He pushes her lightly to sit on top of the toilet seat.
Harry wets a washcloth in the sink once the water runs warm. Neither of them say anything. Harry lightly wipes at her face, trying his best to remove the cracking mask, but wanting to be gentle with her skin. He has to use his free hand to hold her head up by her chin. She doesn’t have the strength or want to hold her head up and she lets it drop, chin to chest everytime Harry steps back to the sink. Silent tears fall from her eyes now, her shoulders shaking every few seconds. Silence fills the bathroom and after Harry wipes away the last remnant of the clay off Aurora’s face he tosses the cloth to the counter not paying it much attention. He drops to his knees in front of her.
“Hey,” he says, wiping a tear from her cheek, the pad of his thumb warm and comforting on her skin. “I don’t want to push you and we don’t have to talk about it right this second, but we do have to talk about it. We have to.” His voice is strong but still soft--caring but concerned.
“Okay,” Aurora whispers as she locks eyes with him. She can tell Harry’s not okay, but he’s better at dealing with this stuff. He’s done it for years.
“How about you get changed and do what you need? I’ll make some coffee and then we can talk about it. Getting ready and some sort of normalcy helps me when this stuff happens.” Aurora nods and tries to manage a smile but she’s sure it doesn’t translate.
Harry kisses her forehead before walking out of the bathroom. Aurora does as Harry advises. She goes to her suitcase and pulls out a pair of clean leggings and a white t-shirt. She takes off her pajamas from the night before and gets dressed, combs her hair into a low ponytail and even puts her jewelry back on. When she looks in the mirror, the bright bathroom lights make her squint but she can still see the splotchy skin on her cheeks, the redness of her eyes and her chapped lips. She doesn’t bother to do anything about it now though.
“Ror, I didn’t know you ever drank tea?” Harry questions from the other room. She turns off the lights and goes to find him.
“I don’t.”
He tilts his head again, “Love, you’ve got a full mug of tea here,” he says, motioning to the mug that has gone cold now.
“Uh yeah…” she trails off, “it’s a weird habit I have.” She grabs the mug and pours it out in the small kitchenette sink. “When things get all,” she motions around her head with both hands, fingers separated, “jumbled, chaotic,” she drops her hands before continuing, “I tend to do things that make me feel like everything is okay. Like I’ve got my shit together.” She lets out a hefty sigh, feeling the exhaustion from the panic start to weigh on her. “Not a weird habit I guess, more a bad habit.”
“Makes sense,” Harry validates as he messes with the coffee maker. “Do what you gotta do for it to feel okay. When I was little and got upset or something happened at school, I would watch Alice in Wonderland.” Aurora smiles a bit. “Nobody really caught onto it until everything with the band started happening. Something would happen, either I’d mess up or something online would mess with my head and I would go back to it. My mom called me on a bad day and I had just started watching Alice,” he shrugs. Aurora moves closer to him. “It was then she put it all together. She always kinda knew that I would watch it but thought I just loved it so much that it made me happier, but really I just needed to see the chaos that Alice went through. It helped me forget what was going on with me.”
Aurora hugs Harry from behind, her hands resting across his stomach. Her forehead presses between his shoulder blades before she lands a kiss against his t-shirt. Harry turns around in her arms after a minute or so. When Aurora looks up to him, his green eyes are more muted than normal and it doesn’t quite sit well with her. She figures it’s the stress. Harry’s touch is featherlight when he tucks Aurora’s hair behind her ears.
“Thank you.”
Harry’s head tilts in question.
“For telling me that,” she clarifies. “and for being here and just being you. For loving me, even through all this.”
“Hey,” Harry says softly, brows knit together, “Ror,” he grazes his thumbs over her cheeks, “I love you no matter what.” His thumb pulls at her bottom lip that she’s worrying between her teeth. “We both knew that this could be hard sometimes, but, I don’t wish to be doing it with anyone else.” Harry presses his lips to Aurora’s forehead and he can feel Aurora let out a breath, her shoulders falling. Her warm breath hits his neck. “Go sit down, I’ll bring you your coffee and we can talk about this a bit more.”
Aurora does as he says, sitting in the corner of the small couch. Harry comes over with 2 hot mugs and sits down next to Aurora, making a point to sit down facing her. Aurora lets out a deep sigh.
“I’ve dealt with this a lot, I know how hard it is. It’s still hard for me,” Harry sighs and runs a hand over his face, across the stubble that is scattered across his cheeks, jaw, and chin. Aurora can tell he’s thinking about what he wants to say next. “I’m really sorry, Ror,” he settles on.
“Harry, please, no reason for you to be sorry,” she tilts her head, eyebrows raising and heart sinking. Aurora hadn’t taken a moment to see how Harry had been dealing with all this. Now she can see it. She can see the effect on him, the stress he’s holding in his shoulders, the worry in his eyes. She knows he’s been here before, somewhere else in the world, with so many different people; friends, family, lovers, just about anyone he’s held close to him. But he’s here now with her, with his Rory, and she knows he hates this part. This is where it’s bound to change. “This was all gonna happen sometime.”
“But not like this,” he stresses. He’s clearly thought about it, planned how he would have preferred the news getting out, how he’d be there with her when the articles came out, when the tweets would surface.
“There’s no way we could’ve planned for this,” she shares and Harry seems almost surprised when she practically reads his mind. “I knew something like this would happen.”
“I’m still sorry that it did and I want to help you get through it.”
“There’s no getting through it though, is there? It’ll happen time and time again.”
“Ror-”
“Harry, it’s not like I didn’t expect this. We’ll figure out how to deal with it together, yeah? That’s what we have each other for.” Aurora can’t help but find some clarity when she realises she isn’t in this alone, when she realises Harry needs her just as much as she needs him.
“I’m supposed to be the one helping you through this,” Harry says with a light laugh and then a clearing of his throat. Aurora smiles at him.
“You may have experience with all of this, but that doesn’t mean I’m the only one being affected by it.” Aurora reaches her hands out to him and he takes them gratefully. They’re clammy and she can feel a slight tremble in them. “We’re in this together. I’m not going anywhere and there’s no reason that you should have to take care of this on your own. If I don’t have to do this on my own, neither do you.”
Harry squeezes Aurora’s hands. “Haven’t really dealt with this not on my own before.” Aurora’s brows furrow now. “I always have to pick up the pieces, try and make it right, try to make it okay, but it’s hard when it seems like it’s all on me in the end. I’ve lost so many people because of this. I just want you to be okay… and to stay.” There's a slight hitch in the tone of his voice and it makes Aurora lurch from her seated position. She climbs onto her knees and her arms loop around his neck and shoulders. Harry’s surprised by her sudden movements but his arms enclose around her waist just a second later. His shoulders start to fall and Aurora can feel his even breathing on her neck.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear it. Harry’s arms tighten as confirmation. “We’ll take care of each other.”
| | | | |
“Sweet Thang” begins to blare through the speakers and they know they’ve got to get going. Harry pulls away from Aurora, regrettably. The familiar twang of the song means 1 thing and 1 thing only, Harry’s got to be walking up the stairs onto his stage in 4 minutes. 4 minutes and 12 seconds. Harry turns to jog down the hall but turns back around quickly, to press a messily aimed kiss to Aurora’s lips.
“You taste like strawberries,” he rushes out, “did ya know that?” and then he’s gone. Aurora can barely focus on the shiny red boots running down the hallway away from her.
She runs a finger across her bottom lip. They feel numb, tingly, swollen as she stands in the middle of Harry’s dressing room.
| | | | |
Harry arrives at the arena with a new melody stuck in his head, a bright, sunshiny, just-for-aurora smile, and an iced coffee (also just for Aurora) in his hand.
“Have you seen Aurora?” Harry asks the first person he sees.
“Uhm, I know a lot of the crew were hanging out in the parking lot today. They set up tables and tents out there because it’s so nice out, maybe there?”
Harry hums and then yells a thank you as he picks up his pace, almost jogging away and down the hall. He follows the signs until he can hear a roar of a group, laughter, chatting, some music.
He squints his eyes when he walks through the propped open doors, the Nashville sun shining bright, a light breeze blowing through his hair. It doesn’t take Harry long to spot Aurora and his mother sat in 2 chairs and another 2 chairs have their feet propped up. They’ve taken it upon themselves to pull the chairs out from under the large white tent to sit in the sun instead.
It’s a sight in front of him--his mother and his Rory laughing together. Harry makes a beeline towards them, waving and smiling at those who say hi. Instead of grabbing a chair of his own, Harry picks up Aurora’s feet and sits down across from her.
“‘Ello, ladies,” he greets them, dropping Aurora’s feet onto his lap.
Aurora and Anne say hello in unison and turn to each other and giggle.
“Have a nice time today?” Harry asks with a dimpled smile.
“Such a lovely time,” Anne answers. “We went for lunch and got our nails done.”
Harry hums and reaches out for Aurora’s hand. He examines her nails, “Black, not surprised,” he comments with a squeeze. “Mum?” he asks, now motioning towards Anne’s hands. “Red, also not surprised. Both of you are very predictable.”
Aurora rolls her eyes before asking, “So how was the studio?”
“Really, really, good, managed to knock out almost an entire song.”
“Oh? and will we get to hear it?” Aurora asks with a sweet smile.
“Mhmm, not quite ready yet,” he shares and when Anne turns away from them for a quick second, Harry gives Aurora a wink. A blush rises to her cheeks and she presses her lips together in a line to hide a smile.
A welcomed silence settles between the 3 of them. They all relax as much as they can into the folding chairs, heads tilted up towards the sun. Harry slides off the sandals on Aurora’s feet and drops them to the ground. He starts to dig the pads of his thumbs into her arches, his other fingers trailing along the top of her feet. Aurora lets out a content sigh, eyes closing, as another gush of the wind passes.
The sun is warm and so are Harry’s hands on Aurora’s feet and calves as they trail up her leg slightly. Her skin is heating up as the minutes pass, Harry’s hands leaving searing paths over and over again. He breaks the silence slowly as he subconsciously starts to hum. The melody causes Aurora’s ears to perk up and pay more attention.
“Why’s your foot twitchin’ like that?” Harry asks around a laugh.
Aurora opens her eyes and looks at her foot then up to Harry, “must’ve been tapping along to your humming,” she figures. Harry tilts his head and some curls fall out of place. A mischievous smirk slides across his face before he lets out a short, deep, “hm,” like his brain is piecing something together. Aurora’s brows furrow for a moment, “What?”
“Nothing, nothing,” he brushes it off, face going neutral again. Aurora shakes her head and lets it go. Harry’s hands are back on her skin and massaging the muscles of her feet, her eyes closing once again as she turns up towards the sun. Aurora doesn’t see the smirk that sneaks back up on Harry’s face.
Harry and Anne had gone back into the arena a little while ago--soundcheck, a few people to meet, some time with his mum after spending the afternoon in the city. Eventually the sun begins to set and Aurora can’t help but think about summer sunsets on Lake Erie at the family lakehouse back in New York. She’ll have to bring Harry there one day. It could be the perfect post-tour getaway, after everything settles down. Late august at the lake house is Aurora’s ideal end of summer farewell. She had missed it last year as she was still in London. Aurora sighs when the alarm on her phone interrupts her daydream.
Wiping at her eyes, tired from the sun, she finds her way back to the dressing rooms. Aurora goes through her routine; Adam and Mitch first, they’re never in their dressing room, then onto Sarah and Claire, who are always in theirs (most of the time, Mitch and Adam are there, too). Then she makes her way to Harry’s dressing room, Anne is sitting on the couch when she walks in. Aurora notices the absence of nerves that would fill her stomach when Anne was around. She happily greets her as she begins to get Harry’s suit ready.
Meeting Anne for lunch whilst Harry went to the studio, Aurora was 90% nerves. They disappeared as the minutes passed. She got more and more comfortable around her. Anne asked Aurora about the whole ordeal that happened in Texas. “Want to check in with you, sweetheart, how are you doing from earlier?” Anne didn’t have to outright say what she was talking about, Aurora knew. Harry must’ve told her, she didn’t mind though.
Aurora assured her she was okay, that she’ll learn to deal and knows it comes with the territory. Anne shared some sound advice and reminded her that it’s all what they make it. She told Aurora how the first time Harry got upset over an awful press post, how it was that moment, once he calmed down, that he vowed to keep his work and personal life separate.
“Kinda hard to keep it separate if I work with him,” Aurora jokes sheepishly.
“Oh sweetheart,” is what Anne kept saying to calm her. Anne is at a loss for words for a moment and Aurora is too. When they meet eyes they start to laugh. “New territory I suppose,” Anne decides to say.
“Definitely is for me,” Aurora responds with a smile. “But I’m being honest when I say i’m okay. and I know what you mean with keeping work and personal stuff separate. We’ll figure it out.”
“Harry told me you said that.” Aurora raises an eyebrow in question. “That you 2 will figure it out. That you were quick to be there for him just as much as he was there for you.”
“We’re in it together. That’s what relationships are about, yeah? Taking care of each other.”
“You know,” Anne’s smile begins to widen as she speaks, “I’ve never heard anyone say that outloud, especially when talking about my own kid. You always think that that type of thing is implied in a relationship but you end up finding out that not everyone sees it that way.”
Aurora isn’t sure how to respond, so she shrugs.
“It’s refreshing, especially as it’s my son that’s involved. So, thank you.”
“Please, Anne, don’t thank me. There is absolutely no reason for that. I love Harry,” she shrugs again after finding it so easy to say that outloud in the moment. “He deserves the same amount of love and care he gives me. I just hope I can do that for him.”
“The way he talks about you,” she shakes her head, “he’d be so cross with me if he knew I was telling you this but,” Anne shrugs, “he thinks you walk on water. He just adores you, really haven’t seen him this happy in a long time. Most of the time he gets to a point where he realises what this other person really wants and he ignores it and is miserable and it’ll end in a horrible way. He’s tried so many times to try to see past it, the way people use him, the lack of compassion, he tries so hard to ignore it.”
Hearing Anne talk about Harry like this makes something click in her head.
“I think we’re very similar in those regards,” Aurora says before taking a sip of her water. “We’ve both gone through some hard relationships in the past. Think we’re done with playing around.” Aurora is almost shocked at how she voices the thoughts running through her head. Anne can tell that she’s surprised and she reaches out to Aurora’s hand and squeezes it lightly.
“It’s good you’re on the same page there. I can definitely see the difference this time around. I think he’s happy with his work and being back on stage has been so good for him. There’s obviously no need to rush anything but I can see you both are pretty serious about it all.” Aurora smiles and at the mention of Harry’s work Aurora feels the need to be clear about her work as well.
“Anne, I do want you to know that I didn’t intend for this to happen,” Aurora shares. Anne’s face scrunches up in confusion. “I came on tour to work, to move forward in my career. It was always about work and it still is. I don’t want you to think I took this job with the plan to go after Harry.”
“Sweetie, I don’t think that at all.”
“I think you might have a little bit at first and that’s okay. I knew it was a cliche. ‘Stylist falls in love with rockstar’, the whole shebang.” Anne laughs with Aurora. “And I also want you to know that I did not get involved with Harry to get further in my career either. I had no malicious intent behind anything that has happened.” Anne nods with a smile.
Their food comes to the table and they thank their waiter. After a few bites in, Aurora continues.
“I just want you to know that I know how it could look and it’s an unusual situation. I hope you can understand that, just like Harry, my career is incredibly important to me and that it was always the ONLY reason I had taken this job. And in the end, we got lucky, I guess.”
“Aurora, you don’t have to explain yourself. Like I said, the way Harry talks about you, and how I’ve seen you do your job at the shows, I don’t question anything at all. And maybe I did at first, but that’s a mum’s job right?” They both laugh again.
“Mother’s know best,” Aurora compliments. “They always do and always will.”
Now back in the dressing room, Aurora joins in with the conversation being had with Harry and Anne, and Ayae too. She’s comfortable, at ease and most importantly happy, she can’t deny that. The royal blue suit in front of her is bright even without the stage lights and the rhinestones that line the edges of the jacket as well as the cuffs and lapel are iridescent and remind Aurora of an old dance costume she had when she was little. Aurora swears she had jazz pants that looked just like the ones she’s steaming for Harry, rhinestones and all, but hers was most definitely made by her mother and didn’t have a Gucci label on them. She shares a photo she had from the dance recital that year. She was 8 and Anne did all but cry at the photo. Harry was convinced he had never seen anything cuter and it made Aurora’s cheeks go bright red, the heat radiating from the steamer didn't help either. Aurora directed Anne through the album of all her old dance photos and Anne promised to share some of Harry’s baby pictures later. To which Harry whined about but Aurora shushed him with a quick kiss to his jaw after she situated his button down shirt on his shoulders and before she began buttoning it (Harry ended up unbuttoning about 2 of the top ones only seconds later).
When Anne leaves the dressing room, Aurora finds her usual perch on the counter in the echoey bathroom, Harry’s royal blue rhinestone suit coat resting on her lap.
“There’s something different about you today,” Aurora says as Harry wipes his mouth after brushing his teeth.
“How so?”
“Not sure, exactly,” she says squinting her eyes at him. “Might be because your mom is here? But there’s something else too…” Harry shrugs his shoulders and begins humming the same melody from earlier. Aurora watches him finish his routine as he starts to fall into a few vocal warm ups.
He’s singing words and melodies she’s never heard.
“Wonderful and warm…. Da da daaaa, da da daaaa,” he trails off.
“Is that the song you were working on today?” He doesn’t respond but keeps singing, in his own world.
“Could ever go without… tastes like strawberries on a summer evening…” He repeats a few phrases over and over again.
It’s right before the 5 minute stage call that it clicks.
“It’s the song,” Aurora states. “That’s what’s different. It’s the new song you’ve written, huh?”
Harry pulls Aurora in, pulling her off the counter with a strong hand on her waist. “I think it has more to do with the inspiration behind the song rather than the song itself.”
Never did Aurora think Harry would write a song about her, but she guesses this is what her new normal looks like.
comments & feedback ALWAYS ALWAYS ALWAYS welcome & appreciated !!!
#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles blurb#harry styles x reader#sequins & zippers#aurora on tour#harry styles fanfiction#one direction imagine
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Losers Club Plus One
Richie Tozier x daughter!reader series
A/N: Hi there! I’m so sorry I haven’t posted in a long while, but writing became more of a duty than something enjoyable so I took some time off and did some shit. I’m feeling really fucking good now, ready to get back into writing. I’m kind of nervous to post this because this is my first time writing for this fandom and the characters and I’m not sure if this is good, but it’s fun to write so I hope you guys stick with me.
This is going to be as close to the movie as possible, but there will be inserts of the book, maybe even of the 90ies movies if I feel like they would work better with the slightly off plot that I’m creating. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Oh, and the usual warnings for cursing, death, mentions of blood and alcohol etc. apply. It’s IT so shit is going down.
I hope you enjoy!
“Dad? Are you alright?” asked a small voice behind Richie as he was still in utter shock. Well, the owner of the voice wasn’t exactly small anymore, but it sounded so hesitant and broken, it might as well had been a little kid trying to catch his attention. His throat was still burning, the foul taste of bile laid heavily on his tongue. Richie’s face scrunched up in disgust as another wave if nausea hit him.
“Yeah, yeah I’m good- “ He started, but was interrupted by himself as he leant over the railing and more of his stomach’s content escaped. The young girl stepped closer to her father, lying her hand on his back in a comforting manner before a group of people busied her father again, giving him booze and water before his show.
“Be good, little one.” Richie rushed out as he passed his phone to his daughter who would take it to his dressing room where it wouldn’t be any more of a distraction than it had been so far. The girl nodded and sent a smile his way, but he didn’t catch it anymore as he stormed out onto the huge stage, greeted by cheers. The smile was quickly wiped off the girl’s face as she made her way through the narrow hallways filled with too many people for her liking. Ducking under equipment, dodging people in suits who were too busy looking at their phones to realise where they were going and ignoring the voices of people telling her that she was not supposed to go into certain areas. She was, they just didn’t know, so she showed them her backstage pass and kept walking until she saw the door to her safety. Once she stepped into the stuffy room that reeked of cigarettes and alcohol, she closed the door behind her, locked it and made herself comfortable on the little couch.
Her father’s phone was buzzing in the young girl’s pocket, catching her attention. Who in hell had called and what did they say to throw her father so out of track? Judging by the nervous voices around her in the hallways, she was sure that her father wasn’t off to a good start for the show, something that hadn’t happened in ages. Not since his first actual show.
The girl was absent-mindedly biting her nails before another buzz of her father’s phone pulled her out of it and she decided to have a look. Richie’s phone was blowing up with messages from his manager, which she decided to ignore as she checked the calls. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Richie had been called by someone from Derry, Maine, but a bit of deeper digging told her that it was actually the local library’s number. Rather than reaching the sweet relief of knowing, she felt her insides churn with fear and confusion, feeling restless until she heard the familiar ruckus that ensued when her father was close to finishing a show.
It had felt like literal ages since Richie had left for the stage and the young girl was eager to ask her father about what was going on. Especially after that whole library-thing. Obviously, she had checked several times that she got the number right, and she did. Was her father throwing up because he was so nervous over a few overdue books from years ago?
The whole time she spent waiting, the girl tried to figure out whether her father had been on tour in Derry, whether he had even mentioned Derry ever before, but she was sure that, in her years of living with her father, she had never so much as heard him utter the word ‘Derry’ ever before.
Quickly, the girl moved to unlock the door so her father wouldn’t run into the door again like he had many times already, then sat down on the couch again, her leg bouncing nervously as she mindlessly tapped her fingers against the phone in her hand.
It wasn’t long until Richie stormed into the room, locking every unnecessary person out and turned to his daughter, drink in hand, holding his other hand out for her to pass him his phone. She did, following their usually so quiet routine. After spending more than an hour talking endlessly about whatever jokes they had put into the set, he was grateful when he could spent a few minutes not saying anything, just listening to the voice of his daughter telling him about what had happened in school that day, telling him what stupid things someone backstage did or what she and her friends were up to. It was relaxing to him, knowing that she was there, and her life was going somewhere.
But not this time.
“Dad why did the Derry library call you?” she asked with the calmest voice she could muster, although her voice was shaking with fear. Of what, she didn’t know, not yet, but she knew it was something big. Something bigger than her or him. Something bigger than overdue books and the terrifying old ladies that would scold you and make you feel like crying even when it had only been a day overdue.
“It wasn’t the library, it was,” Richie sighed before taking another sip of his drink, “It was an old friend of mine. Mike Hanlon. We made a promise when we were kids and now, I need to go back to Derry.” Richie mumbled into his glass. Nonetheless, she understood every single word he said.
“We.” She said, crossing her arms in front of her chest as she got up from where she was curled up on the couch.
“No. Definitely not. You’re staying here.” Richie said before downing the rest of his drink and looking through the cabinets for a new bottle.
“On my own? Or with my non-existent mother who left me at your door, remember? Or with the neighbours? The creepy ones with all those fucking life-size dolls?” she asked, her voice growing louder.
“Oh, fuck off, you’re lucky you’re my daughter, Y/N.” Richie said before letting his own body drop to the couch she had previously occupied. “Shouldn’t have let you watch my shows. Big Bill is going to love you.” Richie grumbled, rubbing his face. A grin spread on Y/N’s face as she sat next to her father, lightly leaning her head against his shoulder. Automatically, Richie’s arm spread over her shoulder, pulling her closer, trying to keep her safe from what was about to come. From the inhuman atrocities she was about to witness. Keep her safe from IT.
“When are we leaving?” she mumbled into Richie’s shoulder. Another sigh escaped his lips.
“As soon as possible.” He told her and, so, she found herself in an airplane not much later. They would fly as close to Derry as possible before taking a rental car to drive to the Derry Town House where they would be staying.
“What was Derry like? And your friends?” Y/N asked curiously as they found their seats on the plane. She watched as her father stared straight ahead for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed, as he was deep in thought.
“I- I don’t- I can’t fucking remember. I honestly can’t remember shit, Y/N.” Richie mumbled, followed by a groan as an indescribable pain shot through his eyes. He closed them tightly, his hands flying to the armrests, fingernails digging into the material. Y/N watched on, shocked to say the least. Shaking her father, she tried to find out what was wrong with him, but as suddenly as this burning pain in his eyes, behind his eyes, had appeared, it had also gone.
“Don’t worry, I’m fucking fantastic.” Richie grumbled towards his worried daughter as he leant back in his seat, trying to remember where that came from, why it felt so familiar.
After many tiresome hours that were mostly spent sleeping, with rare exceptions of Richie mumbling to string his memories together, using her as some kind of journal to keep track of what he remembered and how his memories were connected, the father-daughter-duo found themselves just outside the airport, looking for the car they rented, on wobbly legs. The sunset was about to start, the sun lazily rose, turning the deep dark blue into a pale, greyish-blue colour that slowly but surely turned into a pinkish hue.
“Did you fall asleep standing or are you just being the same lazy ass as always?” Richie screamed, standing in front of the car that seemed to be theirs. And, for the first time in many hours, Y/N could see the outlines of a genuine smile growing on her father’s face. And she couldn’t help but smile with him.
“Just wanted you to do all the searching, old man.” She grinned as she took her bag to the car and got in. Richie, obviously, searched for a radio station that played some good old rock’n’roll to distract him for the fear rising in the pit of his stomach. He was scared, but he wouldn’t admit it to his daughter. Because he wasn’t only afraid of IT and the things IT might do not only to him, but also his friends or, worst of all, his daughter, but Richie was afraid of facing his old friends. Or more those who would appear. He didn’t have high hopes for them, expecting that maybe three of them would appear and he would be able to take his and his daughter’s ass out of the town first thing after the lunch because they were not enough to defeat IT.
That thought kept Richie sane as he walked up the scarily unfamiliar yet strangely street towards the Town House. Shivers ran up and down his spine and he felt Y/N’s comforting hand on his back, trying her best to ground him. And, just like her father, Y/N wouldn’t admit that she was scared. She hadn’t seen what he had, she didn’t know what she was facing, what was so chilling about this town, its residents and its sewers, but she had never seen her father this quiet before. And that scared her.
Once they arrived in their small room, the duo sat down on the edges of their beds, silence taking over. The sun had meanwhile risen higher, clearly visible and warming the cool streets.
“Maybe we should order breakfast or nap a bit?” the young girl broke the unbearable silence, pregnant with unspoken opinions. Richie still thought she shouldn’t be here with him, but in their house back in LA. Y/N, however, was convinced that her father needed her support with whatever he was about to do. He still refused to tell her about IT, still hoping that they would be gone in a few hours and she didn’t need to be scared of something they couldn’t do anything about, something they didn’t need to fight.
Richie nodded, kicked off his shoes with a sigh and laid back on his bed. His daughter grew irritated.
“Maybe you can order something while I’m taking a shower. Maybe then you’ll have your panties untwisted.” The girl said before stepping into the small room, closing and locking the door behind her. What she didn’t expect, though, was to come face to face with a boy her age. He looked like a normal kid, soft curls surrounding his face, but there was something off about him.
“I see, the loser’s newest addition finally made it to Derry. And she has just as many secrets as all the other losers.” Said the boy with a chilling smile on his thin lips.
“What the actual fuck are you doing here and how the fuck did you get in here? You know what? Doesn’t matter right now. Just please get the fuck out.” She growled, puzzled at how neither she nor Richie had noticed a teenage boy hiding in their bathroom. Hadn’t her father used the bathroom when they first entered?
As she turned to unlock the door, an ice-cold hand laid itself on her shoulder, pulling her back into the cold body behind her. She now squirmed, trying to unlock and open the door rather frantically, desperate to get away from whatever ghostly being was behind her, but no matter how hard she tried, which way she turned the key, it did nothing to open the door.
“Dad!” she yelled, hammering her hands against the wood. “Help me! Some creep is in here and I can’t get out.” Richie was up in a flash, his heart feeling like it just dropped to his stomach, and ran to the door, yelling his little girl’s name in despair and banging his fists against the old door.
“Y/N, whatever you’re seeing is not real. Don’t be scared, it’s not real!” Richie screamed, his voice clear but shaky. The girl was confused at his utterances.
“How is he not-“ she started, but stopped when the boy was grinning at her, now looking older than before and covered head to toe in blood that was streaming from the huge cuts on his lower arms. “WHAT THE FUCK?!” she forced out instead and tried to get as far away from the being as possible.
“Don’t worry, Richie. She will float with all the other children and your dirty little secret will remain uncovered.” It said in a high voice that didn’t fit the man in front of the girl before trying to grab her throat. Y/N tried to duck away, but she felt her body being pushed forward against the sink, her head crashing against the mirror, breaking it.
“Y/N! Try to hurt it! It’s not real! Not real, it’s not real!” Richie kept yelling through the door as he kept kicking and throwing his whole body against the fragile wood. Although his words were meant to comfort his daughter, it sounded more like a mantra he was using to comfort himself. The girl listened to her father, picking up some of the shards that were now in the sink. With a swift movement, she sunk the shard into the older man’s face, pulling it down as hard as she could. A huge gash was on the man’s bloody face, but instead of more blood, some black mass seeped out of the wound, but whatever it was that was standing in front of the teenager, it didn’t seem too phased. An angry expression formed on its face before it leaped for her, grasping her throat and pushing her up against the wall. She was gasping, desperate to fill her lungs with the oxygen they were already lacking, but not yet screaming for. She squirmed, hammering the shard in her hand against the thing, successfully hurting it. It let go of her, dropping her into the bathtub below her before fleeing through the toilet.
Richie finally managed to break down the door, falling into the room only to find his daughter shaken up beyond belief, curled up in the bathtub. Unshed tears glistened in her eyes while blood streamed down her suddenly paler than usual complexion from an open wound on her forehead. She didn’t look like she had seen a ghost, she looked like she was the ghost.
“Oh god, come here. I- fuck. It’s alright, it’s over. You’re alright. Fucking hell, you’re alright.” Richie mumbled as he crawled into the bathtub with her, pulling his little girl into his arms, tightly pressing her shaking body into his chest. Soft whimpers escaped her lips against her will. Richie spread out a little, legs hanging out of the bathtub as he just tried to comfort her while trying not to lose it and leave immediately. Back to LA, where IT couldn’t reach them.
#richie tozier x reader#richie tozier#it chapter 2#it chapter two#it chapter 2 x reader#losers club x reader#losers club#richie tozier x daughter!reader#richie tozier x daughter reader#daughter!reader#it#it x reader#mike hanlon x reader#stan uris x reader#bill denbrough x reader#eddie kaspbrak x reader#beverly marsh x reader#ben hanscom x reader#adult losers#adult losers club#it 2019#bill hader x reader#bill hader
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The $10,000 Question || Ricky & Winn
TIMING: Friday, February 14th, 2020 (Valentine’s Day), Sunset
LOCATION: Harris Island & Portland, ME
PARTIES: @ricky-corderbro & @packsbeforesnacks
SUMMARY: After a $10,000 donation to the school’s arts program, Winn lets Ricky take him on the date he paid for. The two have a heart-to-heart, then a stomach-to-stomach.
WARNINGS: A couple instances of graphic (read: mature) language.
All told, Ricky had not expected to have his little online stunt net the public school system a ten grand donation that, from the complicated legalese he could muddle his way through, would see them burn in hell if they used a single red cent for anything other than arts funding. Slightly more complicated was the fact that the donation had come from Winn. All things being equal, the blind date they’d had hadn’t been terrible, and while he’d never admit this to Winn, the sex had been mind-blowing, but he had no intention of pursuing a relationship with the man. Or… rather… with the werewolf. He was acutely aware that his own species identification would probably be a topic for the evening, but, for the moment he was content with trying to figure out exactly what he was going to do for the date.
He’d tossed around several ideas; from something home cooked to renting a boat and having a moonlight meal in the Bay. But somehow that all seemed to fizzle in the face of the fact that Winn was obscenely rich enough to drop ten thousand dollars on a Valentine’s Day date without batting an eyelash. It flew in the face of what Ricky at least thought he knew about the man, but it was fresh out of his shower, smoothing curl serum he’d swear he never used through his hair, that it all finally clicked into place. As he laid out his suit he made a phone call, tying the tie saw him make another one, tying reservations down with the same surety his fingers used as they tied the knot, and finally, as he stood in front of the mirror in a charcoal pinstripe suit, he had everything ready to go. “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He quickly typed out, throwing some toiletries and… essentials… into a small bag and striding towards the door. “WINSTON!” he shouted, not even knowing if his roommate was home, “I’LL BE BACK TOMORROW.”
Panic wasn’t a typical emotion for Winn. He was calm in a crisis, a confidante for those who needed it, and, if he did say so himself and he did, pretty generally chill. One bad habit, though, one that Winn had never quite been able to break, was his inability to turn down a dare, or be called on a bluff when he could just as easily decide that his bluff was the truth. It was more than that, though. His inheritance was buried deep in the electrical grid of Virginia, a monopoly among monopolies that often did more harm than good, he knew. The trust had vested when he’d turned twenty-one, and all of the money his grandfather, coal and gristle, had put into it for his sole “heir” had come into Winn’s possession. What his parents, and his deceased grandfather, hadn’t counted on was the sole heir becoming a werewolf (or bein’ gay, but that was… less a dealbreaker). Certainly hadn’t expected that same heir to fuck up so bad that he wouldn’t even think of leaning into any aspect of their family’s various business.
No, Winn didn’t know what to do with all that money. He said it all the time, and it was true: he didn’t want for much, really. So, when Ricky had come around soliciting donations to the arts, somethin’ Winn knew wasn’t gettin’ the funding that hockey was? Well, what was $10,000 between (mutually attracted) friends (who had previously hooked up, and then not gone further than that, and hell if Winn was gonna be out-stubborned, and who was to say if Ricky even wanted to do more than some athletic, excellent fucking that had left Winn the best kinda sore for days)? So, yeah, he’d made a big choice and he wasn’t gonna fuck it up, no sir. … So, yeah, little panic. Just a little.
Which was to say, he’d been flying around town all afternoon, renting a car — as if they’d ride on his bike or in the beat-up jalopy he used most of the week — transferring money, writing up paperwork, hassling a notary, causin’ a desk lady at the school to pass out, tryin’ to find one goddamn suit that wasn’t shit-tier, and then beggin’ Blanche to tailor it for him all by six o’clock, dammit Ricky. He was thankful he’d gotten a haircut the day before Valentine’s, otherwise he’d probably have passed out somewhere in the middle there.
All things considered, though, he knew he cleaned up well. Hell, he’d modeled. The suit, a violet three-piece, had worried him a bit — was it too bold? — but Blanche assured him that the cut would distract Ricky from the choice of color. Lines of a lighter purple ran through the white silken shirt underneath. The tie and pocket square, a deep, dotted navy, had been Blanche’s choice: he’d bought about six, and trusted Blanche to match well, something his colorblind eyes struggled with. Just as he finished, sliding a watch on his wrist with just enough time to spare, Winn got a text from Ricky: “Ready when you are, Romeo.” He shoved a couple hundreds at Blanche as he left, sliding into the jet black Maserati he’d lucked and charmed (and paid) his way into and sped off towards Harris Island.
He pulled up at 5:59, walked to Ricky’s door, and rapped a quick three. As the door opened, he whistled lowly. “Wow. And I thought I was dressin’ to impress.”
He liked to think that he had at least some semblance of an idea of how Winn would roll up to his house, but when a Maserati of all things pulled down the long drive and Winn stepped out of the car in a suit that looked like it’d been tailor made for him, Ricky was starting to wonder if he was punching outside his weight class. As he walked out onto the porch he heard a low wolf whistle coming from the general direction of the main house, and looked over to see Dee flashing him a thumbs up from her back porch, “Back inside, Dee! You’re old and it’s cold.” The thumbs up quickly turned into her flipping him off and he turned his attention to the supermodel on his porch. “Well… I can’t show up to a date looking like a slob. First thing’s first…” He held a hand out. “Phone. Can’t have you guessing where we’re going before we get there.” Ricky had this date planned out down to the last detail, and a solid portion of it was contingent on Winn not figuring out what was happening until the last possible minute.
“Don’t worry. I won’t go looking through your pictures. Though I’ve already sucked your dick, so I can’t imagine I’d see anything in there that’d shock me.” His shoes crunched along the gravel as he walked to the car, carefully putting his bag in the back as he leaned against the side of what he prayed was a rental (the thought that Winn had bought a sports car for this date, while believable, was too much to handle). “Come on! I’ve got plans, Woods. I’ve got a whole evening impeccably planned out and we gotta hit the road!” He couldn’t keep himself from smiling broadly, this may have started out weird and awkward but Ricky was genuinely looking forward to the evening.
When Ricky had been, well, his normal Ricky self, Winn felt a coil in his gut, that he didn’t know had wound, ease up, if only a little. Winn was well-aware of the ways in which this whole… thing could’ve come off. He placed his phone gingerly into Ricky’s hand, fingers brushing against the other man’s palm and Winn blushin’ up to his ears at the mention of their night. “Who knows,” he whispered conspiratorially, “Maybe I want you to find what’s in there, Ricks.” He smiled, a bit… giddy? Yeah, giddy. The first date had been a surprise, if a pleasant one. This one, well, he may have paid for it, sorta, but… Ricky didn’t have to dress up so nice for him, if he didn’t want to. It was a different view of the man. He’d had his hands grasped in the curls that were pulled back, he’d seen the tan skin beneath the three-piece, he’d— Well, he was getting side-tracked, and Blanche had tailored the suit well enough that going too far down that rabbit hole would be a problem. Unless Ricky was into— Nope, down Winner.
In the time he’d spaced, Ricky had made his way over to the Maserati, leaned up against it like the best bad idea Winn had ever had. A whole evening? Damn. Winn smirked as he held Ricky’s door open, gesturing the other man in with a practiced air of cordialness — thanks Cotillion. He slid in, careful not to brush his hair, stickin’ up a bit with product, against the roof of the car. “Go ahead and set up your phone on the car’s Bluetooth. I’m a good conversationalist, I know, but quiet seems… neither of our speeds.” He winked, letting the implication hang in the air. This was good. This was great. “Where to, Cordero?” he said, turning the key in the ignition and feelin’ the car growl (ha) back to life.
The energy between them was a constant back and forth that straddled the line between flirtation and outright verbal fucking, and as Ricky took Winn’s phone and slid it into his jacket he leaned over, patting the well-scruffed cheek of his date, “Well then, I’ll have to dig through it. We’ll be in the car for about an hour. I’m sure I can find something on here that’ll amuse me.” As the car pulled down the long drive and out onto the road he smiled, stretching out a little as he hooked his phone up to the Bluetooth and the sounds of Barns Courtney’s Fire started to fill the car, “Head towards the highway. We’re going south. You’re gonna wanna start goin’ towards Portland. I’ll tell you more when you need to know it.”
He turned in his seat to make sure his bag wasn’t rattling around too much in the backseat, knowing full well he had important things inside of it, before turning to look at Winn and his (as much as he was loathe to admit it) incredibly handsome profile. “So. Mr. Woods. Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff. I mean I know I’m a damn good lay and some charming company but that… is a lot of fucking money. That big a patron of the arts?” He let the question hang in the air for a few moments before smiling wickedly and modifying it, “Didn’t know that was a traditionally werewolf characteristic.”
“Good taste in music,” Winn said offhand, trying to pay attention to the road as the drums and deep baritone filled his speakers. Winn knew his grin had gotten bigger when the other man had patted his cheek. He liked Ricky’s hands (was that a weird thing to say?). He’d ignored the quip Ricky had made about goin’ through his phone, knowin’ (hopin’?) it was mostly a joke. It wasn’t like there was anythin’ too incriminatin’ on it — no, if anything, Winn was embarrassed by the lack of content on his phone. Save for texts and a couple time-wasters (and ESPN alerts, ‘course), he wasn’t glued to his phone and it showed. ‘Course, there were a couple’a… personal pictures (... and videos) on there, he wasn’t stuck in the Stone Age. Some stuff from his second time as a model, too. But nothin’, like Ricky had said, the man hadn’t seen before.
“An hour, huh? Want the windows down? It’s not freezin’, and headin’ towards Portland’ll take us along the coast for a little while. The Maserati, for all its beauty, smelled a little too much like fine leather and oil. He caught Ricky moving out of the corner of his eye, and tilted his head over just slightly, inclining one eyebrow as Ricky adjusted a bag. He caught the man’s eye for a moment, but knew he’d get shit for askin’ too many question and, besides— “Ten fucking thousand dollars on a called bluff.” When Ricky mentioned Winn being a wolf, smiling like he’d struck gold, Winn had to grin back, a little… wolfish. “Some werewolves,” he started, “are a big fan of artists, actually.”
He winked at Ricky, before turning back to face the road. “I grew up around some of the best art in the country. Didn’t always get it, but hear that’s not necessarily the point, and I usually enjoyed it regardless. And, well…” He coughed. “It, um, seemed important to you. And, like I said, not like my money’s goin’ to anything useful.” It felt like he was dodging a question, for some reason, but Winn had no reason to lie to Ricky. “The money thing just never… came up, especially since you refused to let me pay for your dinner.” And the werewolf thing… well. Ricky got why he hadn’t blabbed about that, he hoped.
“I have excellent… if eclectic… taste in music.” This was something Ricky normally listened to in the workshop as he was carving, but it seemed suited for an evening drive on his way to a date, so he’d just started the playlist up. His fingers rapped in time with the music, head bopping along as he enjoyed what was undoubtedly the most luxurious car he’d ever ridden in. The whole situation was weird. How dressed up he was, the car he was riding in, who he was riding in said car with… it was like watching pieces of a puzzle you thought you knew the solution to come together to be something entirely different and foreign. Not bad, necessarily, just… foreign.
“You know, it’s a pity we didn’t take your car… or my truck.” He withdrew a joint from his breast pocket, watching it roll around in the clear vial that kept it from making his suit smell like he’d just gotten out of a Phish concert, “We could have had a very relaxing drive down to Portland. But… as it stands… I don’t think we should hotbox a Maserati.” He put it back into his pocket as he listened to what was a very unsatisfactory answer. “Lots of things are important to lots of people, Winn. Doesn’t mean everyone gets ten thousand dollars.”
The man’s comment about werewolves liking artists made Ricky chuckle, and he squeezed Winn’s thigh, “Uh-huh. Well… all of that is a terribly unsatisfactory answer, but, I guess that’s the best I can hope for this early in the evening. I’ll have to get you good and liquored up over dinner, which is on me, by the way, and get you to spill all the beans. You can get drunk right? That’d be such a drag if you were going to be a sober Susan all night. We’ve got plans… and don’t worry about driving home. We won’t be going back until tomorrow.”
The leather hugged Winn, like an old friend it hadn’t seen in a while. He had the money to throw down on a car like this, sure, but he knew himself too well. The bikes got more use than his shitty car, and he shelled out enough to keep them in good shape in the Maine winter. He could drive a graduate student-level car. He didn’t mind. Much.
When Ricky pulled the joint from his pocket, Winn winced. “Ah, sorry about that, man. I just… my car’s a mess.” True enough, and Ricky hadn’t seen his car. Not like Winn thought he’d judge, except… well, okay, he probably would. But it wouldn’t matter to him. Winn knew that, rationally. “We always could. I have the car for the weekend,” he said, only a bit dubious of his ability to get smoke out of the leather. Winn hummed along as the song faded and the next started up, reaching a hand down from the wheel to brush a thumb across the back of the hand Ricky had placed on his thigh. Focus on the road and not the devastatingly attractive man sitting next to you, Winner. Ricky squeezed, and Winn groaned. Dirty pool, Cordero, he knew Winn was—
Winn started talkin’, half to respond to Ricky, half to distract himself from the warm hand on his thigh. “I’m not tryin’ to be cagey, Ricks. I didn’t… think much about it. I would’ve done it if you’d asked me outright, date or no. The ‘cue was that good,” he quipped. He tried to resist askin’ a question about their direction. “Pretty presumptuous, if you’re askin’ me, Mr. Cordero. You’re lucky you’re pretty, otherwise might not let you get away with that.” He snickered, unable to take himself too seriously. “But no, I mean— Yes. I can get drunk. Takes me a minute longer than other folks, and, well, you’re responsible for bringin’ out drunk Winn. He’s a little… handsy. So is sober, Winn, though.” He moved his hand that had been on Ricky’s to give the other man’s thigh the same squeeze, hand a little further down than Ricky’s had been. “But I’m happy to be here, with you, y’know? Money or no. You make good company.”
Ricky caught the wince as Winn looked over at the joint in his hand, “You have the car for the weekend but I don’t think there’s a detailer talented enough to get the smell of good weed out of the fine-ass leather of this car. Don’t worry though. There’s gonna be plenty of time for that later.” Winn’s hand rested on the back of his own and the silence stretched out for a moment; in the momentary lacuna between songs it seemed extra quiet, but the music kicked up again, the same gentle song by KALEO that he used as his alarm in the morning, and that long long moment lapsed into the moment after, and then the moment after that, “I didn’t think you were being cagey.”
He laughed, removing his hand and looking at his phone to make sure they were still headed in the right direction, “If I thought you were being cagey and just trying to slum it with us “normal” low-class folks I wouldn’t have been as chill, but, your finances are your business and yours alone.” It wasn’t like Ricky had been particularly forthcoming about his own level of wealth. While he wasn’t even close to the same tax bracket as Winn it was unlikely he would ever truly want for anything.
“I don’t recall you complaining about my level of presumption when I had you bent over my washing machine the other week! But since I’m already acquainted with how handsy sober Winn can be, I think I’ll take my chances with Drunk Winn too.” Winn’s hand squeezed his thigh and he shot him a wicked smile, “Now who’s presumptuous? And we’ll see if you sing that same tune when you see how the evening unfolds. You might regret purchasing this date afterall.”
“If anyone suggested I was “slumming” it with you, they’d get a laugh and a punch ‘cross the face. Laugh, seein’ as how you look like a million bucks. Deckin’, ‘cause I’ve known too many rich assholes to have the patience for that shit.” Winn grimaced. “Not even a full moon week and I’m talkin’ about throwin’ hands. Must be somethin’ in the water.”
He listened attentively, only sputtering a little when Ricky mentioned their escapades again. “Ricky, there’s not a whole lot you could say that’d make me regret this, and, ‘sides, it seems like I’m already gettin’ my money’s worth. And you’ll forgive my rudeness if I remember holdin’ you up by your ass and spreading you open against your dryer a little better. Hard to forget, that.” Winn ran his hand down the middle of Ricky’s thigh, and back up. Two could play at this game, long as Ricky liked. But… “You’ve got me all pent up about the night’s activities, can’t I get even a little hint? I’ll make it worth your while. You name the price.” He snorted. “Not money, though, think I should keep a little around for a rainy day.”
Winn took a glance out his window, at the smattering of stars casting their light on the water. The tinted windows of the Maserati ruined the effect, just a little, but it was still a sight to behold. “It’s beautiful out, isn’t it?” he asked, more to himself than to Ricky. It was hard, had been hard, when he’d been in Europe, to remember to take the time to appreciate the simple pleasures in life. To slow down. Way this night was goin’ so far, he figured it was a good time as any to take every moment in.
“Oh, we all know hanging out with me is slumming it in the best way.” Ricky chuckled, acutely aware that he lived a life of privilege; from his financial comfort, to his social comfort, even to his supernatural comfort. He was reminded, again, that he hadn’t seen or talked to Skylar since their last unfortunate meeting, and a cloud passed briefly over his face, one he quickly strove to erase as he laughed. “Do you get a moon period? Are you super moody right before the moon. Do I need to start stocking up on ice cream and chocolate to throw at you as we start to approach a full moon? Maybe a heating pad and a nice romantic comedy to tide you over?”
Winn’s incredibly detailed recounting of the last time he’d been at Ricky’s house made him flush a scarlet that he was glad was mostly hidden by the car’s dim interior, “Uh huh. You would remember that. Pity I don’t have security cameras. Would have been one hell of a home movie.” His laugh overrode the music for a moment at Winn’s comment, tutting gently, “Oh… you’re going to be a helluva lot more pent up before the night is through, Winn. Don’t you worry… I’ve got a lot planned for us. You’re going to be getting your money’s worth, and a night you’re not going to forget.”
It was an abrupt change in Winn’s tone that accompanied the comment about the beauty around them, and Ricky nodded slowly, “Take exit seventeen up here. But yeah. It is. You know I’ve lived here my whole life… only been outside the state a couple times, and only outside the country once. But still I think Maine is one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I love it here.”
Winn groaned. He’d been a big fan of chocolate, before the transformation. He could have a little, on occasion, but he tried to resist, hoping eventually he’d forget how it tasted — like vegetarians always claimed they did with meat. There was a solitary container of M&M’s in the freezer, for when he broke and just needed it. “No chocolate, please. We’re — some werewolves — allergic to it. Dog problems, y’know?”
He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “But, uh… Yeah, I get… grumpy, but mostly I get out the aggression on the ice. We have… other needs, too. Fightin’ and fuckin’, the werewolf story. If you give into one, you can usually mitigate the other. Since I’m not gettin’ laid every day of my life, I bury myself in burning out the wolf in practice the days ‘round the moon. Go punch trees, be the world’s worst karate stereotype.” He let Ricky talk for a moment, watching for the exit he’d mentioned, only stopping him to joke — “Record me any time, bro, I look great on a camera, I can show off for you.” — and to snort a little at Ricky’s own humor.
Winn took the exit as Ricky talked about his feelings for Maine, letting out a small sigh and deciding to chance a bit of the rawness Cece had (sort of) complimented him on. “I… miss my home, sometimes, y’know? I never thought I’d leave, really. Down south is different, all mountains and valleys and folks who’ll shoot your face off — though, glad to be away from them, uh, mostly. But your home helps me forget about that. A lot, actually. Don’t know if I’ve ever said it aloud, but I don’t know. I… think I could see myself finding a home here.” His voice got quiet, buried in the music thrumming through the car, “I hope.”
Winn cleared his throat. “Could also go traveling the world, though! Y’ever been to Europe? Lots of good food, good people!” He laughed a little too loud, he thought, but maybe he was overthinking it. It’s not like he was tryin’ to hide from Ricky, but, well, maybe Ricky wasn’t the only person who thought he could scare folks away.
Ricky bit his lip for a long moment, taking several deep breaths and steepling his fingers in front of his face. “I am going to try really hard to be respectful here, really very hard… But… you’re telling me… you’re a goddamn werewolf… And you can’t fucking have chocolate.” It took every single iota of control that he had not to laugh hysterically at what seemed to be the funniest bit of supernatural carryover. “That’s… That’s a very interesting bit of dietary restriction and I will be sure to keep that in mind when I order for us this evening.”
Several deep breaths later and he had the urge to laugh entirely under control. “Well you know if you had to be any karate stereotype, you picked a good one. You could have been “weird divorced dad who’s a strip mall karate instructor” and that’s just not a fucking good look for anyone. You can smell the desperation on that one a mile away.”
He listened, carefully and silently, as Winn very uncharacteristically talked at length about something that seemed very personal and sincere. It was a good look for him. When he finished, and Ricky was sure he had finished because he didn’t want to interrupt that particular bout of sincerity, he nodded slowly. “Once. My parents are… or were… or I guess are and were…” he paused for a moment, parsing out the grammatical accuracy of the statement he was about to make, “Actually you know what, it is were. My mom’s dead and my dad moved back. Anyway. My parents were immigrants. My mom was from Ireland and my dad was from Venezuela. So, after I graduated high school… Like literally several hours after… I got on a plane and flew out to meet my mom’s family.”
He paused again, looking ahead at the several conversational roads that diverged in front of him, “My mom’s clan. With her dead, I was the only Selkie left in White Crest, that I knew about, and books can only teach you so much. So…. I spent three months before my freshman year of college in this fucking TINY little fishing village north of Galway. Didn’t speak English til I came back to Maine, just learned… Everything. That I didn’t know about how to be what I am. So… in a very long winded answer to your question… yeah I’ve been to one very very small rural part of Europe once.”
“I appreciate your restraint,” Winn deadpanned, knowing how his chocolate problem sounded, after he’d said it aloud. Ricky was clearly trying to phrase it as delicately as possible, and he did appreciate it, but… c’mon, it wasn’t that funny. There were theories about why the chocolate allergy carried over were varied, and some lucky assholes didn’t even have to deal with it. He snorted at the assessment of stereotypes, quipping a short, “Yeah, that’s not the kind of thing I want people to smell on me, y’know?” One small turn apparently deserved another, and Winn cocked his head to the side, trying to make as much eye contact with Ricky as was possible while still keeping an eye on the road. Luckily, and maybe surprisingly, the road that Ricky was leading them down was fairly clear of cars.
“I, uh—” he started. He knew from his classes, and personal experience, that Ricky had just divulged some fairly deep information, including information about, well, the secret to end all secrets, right? Winn sounded the word “selkie” out in his head while he thought about his response, racking his brain to figure out what that could mean. He thought back to the late night texts Ricky had sent, wondered if he’d meant to tell Winn. Winn wasn’t a guarded person, not really, but he had… the impression that Ricky was, that maybe Ricky being honest with him was something precious, to be cherished. “My father was an immigrant, too. Raised in Singapore for most of ‘is childhood, till his parents decided to send him to the States for college, told him not to come back. I… always appreciated what he did, I guess, for me. Ma was the granddaughter of a coal miner, daughter of a “self-made man” type. Neither of them were werewolves, don’t know I am. Don’t speak to them much.”
He paused, considering how best to say this, not wanting to come across as callous, but knowing, if Ricky’s mother had died before Ricky graduated from high school, that going too far into the “gentle hands'' school would be, maybe, offensive. Grief stung, but pity stung worse. “I’m sorry about your mom,” he settled on. It wasn’t enough, but was there ever anything that could be?
“I’ll be honest, I’m not sure what a Selkie is. But I’d like to hear more about it, if you’ll tell me. No pressure. Just… from one shifter to another, I know it can be… weird, reconciling two parts of yourself. Not to, um, assume that’s your experience. I know…” A pause. “... friends o’ mine, who don’t see it as two halves. And for me, for someone who chose this life, I know that I usually feel… more free, when I’m the wolf. Wouldn’t say happier, jus’... freer.” He tentatively put a hand on Ricky’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. “And thank you. Know that maybe sounds weird, but… I wasn’t lyin’, I do want to get to know you better, Ricky. Whatever parts you want to show me. So, I’m grateful.”
He glanced at the clock on the dash, doing some quick mental math. “And let me know if there’s another turn I should be lookin’ for. Seems like maybe we should be gettin’ close? To… wherever.” He left his hand on Ricky’s shoulder, waiting for the other man to tell him to move it, or lean in, or do whatever he needed to do. Winn was a hands-on kinda guy, in more ways than one. His words were good, but his actions could speak louder, he thought. He waited.
“Well, I guess I’m going to have to call the restaurant and tell them to cancel the chocolate fountain I ordered for dessert.” Ricky was only human… ish… and he could only maintain so much composure upon hearing that his werewolf date for the evening had a legit dog-like chocolate allergy.
To his credit, Winn managed to make it very, very clear that Ricky’s story held his full attention, and the road only part of it, as Ricky laid out at least the framework for the story about what he was and where he’d come from. When he’d finished, Winn started his own story, and it helped Ricky at least start to put the puzzle pieces together of what the man behind the frat boy bravado was like.
He couldn’t help but laugh, however, when Winn admitted he had no idea what Ricky was. “We’re not terribly common. Especially in America. We tend to stick to the UK where we’re from originally. As far as I know, after my mom died I was the only Selkie in White Crest for over a decade. But… we’re shifters, like you, but instead of a wolf, I’m a seal. Born a seal, first turned into a human when I was about two. We’re at-will shifters, as long as we have our skin, so I’m not chained to the whims of the moon like you are. Take a left up here on Hall.” He pointed to the intersection in question and then scratched at the stubble on his chin.
“I never really… I came into the shifter thing at an advantage. We’re born, not made, and I was lucky enough to be born to a family where it was all really commonplace and ordinary, so I never really had to go through the whole ‘duality of identity’ crisis that I know a lot of shifters do. I am a seal, who can turn into a human. That’s just me. I’ve got bigger problems than trying to work out how to wrap my head around that, you know? That’s just… The boring and average part.”
As the car made the turn and he looked at the map on his phone a wolfish smile started to creep its way across his face. “Then up here you’re gonna take a right onto Congress. After about… looks like a mile… the place we’re headed should be on the left. I think you’ll know it when you see it.”
“Well, I’m clearly not the best educated wolf on the block. No one mentioned anythin’ other than werewolves, ‘fore I got changed. Selkie,” Winn started, trying the word out in his mouth again. “Seal. Got it. But, dude. That’s so fuckin’ rad. I don’t, uh, mean to, like— I just, it’s cool to not be the only supernatural thing out there in the big wide world. It’s cool that you’re a part of this, that I mean… that we don’t have to hide that shit between each other?” He felt a light flush rise to his cheeks and ears. “Um— Uh, but—” What the shit, Winner, get your act together.
“We do both have a connection to the moon, though, right?” he tried, grasping at something else Ricky had mentioned to pivot the subject. Moon. Okay, he could talk about the moon. “Don’t know much about seals either, but ocean tides must be somethin’ you’re aware of, I can’t… like, imagine that, if the moon looks at the sea funny, that wouldn’t change somethin’ for y’all? Swimmin’ patterns? Where the good fish are? Same for us ‘n deer or other forest grub. I mean, stop me if I’m totally off base.” He took the first turn. “Wish it was out tonight, really. Not gonna rise till after 3, I think. I haven’t looked at an almanac in a second.”
He took the next turn Ricky pointed out, driving down Congress and takin’ in the sights of Portland. He’d been down here a couple times, and it was a softer sort of city than D.C., but he liked it. “Ricky,” Winn said, turning to look at him fully for a brief moment, eyes soft in the dim light of the car. “Don’t really think there’s much ‘boring’ or ‘average’ ‘bout you, if you don’t mind my sayin’ so.” He turned back in his seat, driving comfortably along, keeping an eye to his left for somethin’ that’d be… obvious. He cracked the window ‘bout halfway, to see a little better past the tint, and that’s when the smell hit him. Fuck.
Winn pushed down a little harder on the pedal, almost instinctively, headin’ towards the source of that smell. Eventually, his eyes caught on a low, brick building, with “SALVAGE BBQ” written on the side in what (Winn thought) was black-and-yellow lettering. He could kiss Ricky. Actually… Winn parallel parked the Mas and, with a big grin, unbuckled his seat belt and leaned across the middle of the car to plant a (oops, probably a little wet?) kiss against Ricky’s stubble, smiling against the other man’s cheek. “You’re a man after my own heart, you know that?” he said, a little breathy. Was he being too excited? He was prolly bein’ too excited. But, well, his metaphorical tail was waggin’. He leaned back over, open up his door. “Bro,” he said, reverently.
“I mean… You still very, very much have to hide this shit, but not from me.” Ricky gave Winn his patented heart melting crooked smile, laying on the charm extra thick as he listened to a blushing Winn navigate his way through some moon logic. “Mmmmm. Maybe technically? But the moon has no practical effect on my day to day life. I can change during any phase of it, and my sense of smell is so acute that I always know where the good fish are. I think the closest connection to the moon I have is that it’s safest for me to change at night, so I’m just used to swimming around by its light.”
He let the conversation trail off a little as they neared their destination, watching Winn carefully. The minute the man cracked the window, Ricky knew he’d figure it out; if he could smell the bbq with seal sense then Winn definitely could with werewolf scent. Sure enough, Ricky could swear he saw Winn’s ears actually perk up when he caught the scent and sight of the building they were approaching. “I’m pretty and dumb, but did you really think I was making us get all dressed up for some fancy ass shit? Nah bruh, that’s a bait and goddamn switch right there. So congrats, we’re gonna be the only two people in three-piece suits up in what has been lauded as Portland’s best bbq place.”
He laughed at the excited kiss planted on his cheek before getting out of the low sports car, feet crunching across the gravel as they walked towards the door. “Sit, boy.” He pointed to a nearby table with “Reserved Cordero” on it before walking over to the counter, “Yeah hi. I called ahead earlier. Cordero. We had two Meat Fatalities, quart of collard greens, quart of mac and cheese, two sides of the BFFs, large order of hush puppies, and three orders of pickles. Could I also get two waters, two of that bourbon barrel-aged stout I see on tap, and about a whole roll of paper towels? We’re gonna need it.” He carefully balanced the beer and water as he wandered back over to the table, setting them down and grinning, “I ordered enough food for about fifteen people. So. I hope you came hungry. This is only stop one. Gotta fuel up.”
Ricky had a real nice smile, Winn thought. One that Winn wanted to keep puttin’ on the other man’s face; after all, he had a whole night to do it. So, he’d been wrong about the tides affectin’ Ricky. Big whoop. He had time to learn the ins and outs (... and ins and outs) of selkie biology. He’d picked up what he needed about wolves, easy enough. “You’re a goddamn menace,” Winn said as Ricky explained his plan, “... but one who’s got me pegged pretty well, it seems. This is the shit.” Winn’s laugh was big and full, enough so that a pedestrian looked over for a moment in concern. But fuck that dude, he was having fun.
The inside of the place reminded him a little of the campgrounds that the National Park service had set-up through the Shenandoah — long picnic tables situated against the windowed wall, smaller tables set up throughout, a little dinery, a little rough-’n-tumble. “Sit, boy.” did things to Winn that he’d be ashamed to admit in polite company, sending a pleasant shock up his spine. The wolf felt what Winn felt about the whole affair, but more… primally. Winn sat down, shifting his suit pants while Ricky’s back was turned and hoping like hell a wannabe Karen hadn’t seen him pretty much fondlin’ his dick underneath the table. He had a reputation to keep in tact, damn it.
He heard bits and pieces of what Ricky had ordered for them, wiping the mental (and, frankly, physical, whoops) drool away from the side of his mouth. Winn hadn’t eaten since that morning, to be prepared for whatever the date might entail — a ten-thousand dollar fuck far from out of the question. Mentally, he made a deal of sorts between the two halves of himself. No, you can’t just shove your face down in the meat and go to town, that’s gross. Yes, if you aren’t satisfied, I’ll coax the beautiful seal man into another helpin’. No growling, no matter how hungry or horny you are. Just… don’t. Non-wolves think it’s weird.
When Ricky mentioned the sheer amount of grub he ordered, Winn just grinned, too delighted for words. He took a long pull of the stout that Ricky had gotten, the oakyness slidin’ down his throat just right before respondin’. Leaning across the table, reminiscent of the first date they’d had, Winn said, at his usual volume (which is to say, slightly above an inside voice), “What’s our plan of attack here, Ricks? You’re the ‘cue master, you’ve gotta guide me. Teach me. Tantalize me.” A wink and a smirk, as was his typical choice when bein’ forward on purpose. “And if this is only stop one, I can’t wait to see what comes next. Bet it’s a big ol’ secret, though, huh?” He leaned back in his seat, head cocked subtly to the side, takin’ in the smell of the ‘cue… and of Ricky, the wolf waggin’ its tail happily, at peace with itself — with himself.
It was infinitely edifying to Ricky to see how much he’d hit the nail on the head with both his restaurant choice and his date choice. He’d gone through a lot of options in his head; high brow weekend in New York, drug and booze fuck/game fest in a cabin by the lake, renting a boat for a moonlight sail, the options had been many. But in the end Ricky had decided that none of them felt… Winn. He did know, however, that Winn had an eye and stomach for barbecue, and after some research had discovered this place.
A band played at the far end of the restaurant, some four piece local folk ensemble singing about ghosts in the woods, and he knocked his glass against Winn’s before taking a long drink of what turned out to be a pretty damn decent stout. He moved the various bottles of barbecue sauce around the table as he listened to Winn, “The plan of attack? Eat. Eat. More eat.” He looked over his shoulder to see no fewer than three waiters carrying their trays of food toward them, inhaling deeply as they set them down in front of them.
“Hey. Ricky doesn’t phone it in when he’s gotta take a dude out. This place has won like a million awards. And I know you’re serious when it comes to barbecue. And yes. It is a big ol’ secret and you know that. You gotta just roll with the punches tonight.” He grabbed one of the french fries and started nibbling at it, examining his sauce selections as he inhaled the smell of the barbecue in front of him. “I think I’m gonna start with chicken though. Because why the fuck not. Everyone loves chicken.”
They chowed down for a few minutes before Winn came up for air. He was making a conscious effort not to eat like, well, a wolf, but Ricky seemed to have his own appetite to sate. Protein would certainly play well, later… if the later that Winn envisioned came to fruition. The food was so damn good. “Damn, dude.” He looked at the spread before them, not even a little full, but in awe of the sheer amount of barbecue on display. The different sauces danced across his tongue — his favorite, a sweet Carolina with just a hint of vinegar. But there was a hotter one, a little more tangy, that was also right up his alley. The meat was all cooked perfectly, moist enough that it’d be great on its own, and not so moist that it didn’t take the sauce on, and the sides? Shit, Winn had never even been a collard greens person, and he’d kill a man for the recipe on display here.
“Bro…” He didn’t have the words to express just how much this was up his alley. “You really know the way to a man’s heart, and stomach. That’s for fuckin’ sure.” This was going to be a good night.
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Without Me - Billy Hargrove
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Happy New Year! Bringing another story Based on a song, this time it's a Halsey song and after listening to it so many times, this idea came to me. I hope you like and I hope you had an Amazing Holiday <3. This story moves along through weeks, so if I don't say days later or weeks, just know that time is still moving. [ Warnings - A tiny bit of language, angst. ] There is a mention of Billy's mother and since we ( or I ) don't know what happened to her, she's passed away in this. ( Y/N = your house, Y/L/N = Your last name )
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Found you when your heart was broke, I filled your cup until it overflowed.
Meeting Billy was great at first, but strange also. I met him when I was on Vacation in California, my parents had taken me out there for Four weeks, to get away and to visit with Family. What I didn't know, was that this vacation was going to be the last one we'd have as a family of three, my parents were planning to sign their divorce papers as soon as we got back to Indiana. One evening, I was walking down the beach. I was alone, but not far from the house we were staying in. That's when I stumbled upon him, dressed in a suit that had already been mostly unbuttoned. Beer in his hand blue eyes staring at the sun set in front of him. At first I was going to just ignore him, walk past and just forget ever stumbling upon the sight. But something made me stop, maybe it was the heartbroken look on his face, I felt I needed to talk to him. So I took a deep breath and sat down in the sand beside him. Neither of us said anything at first, he just glanced at me, furrowing his brows in confusion. I glance back sending him a small smile and then looked back at the sunset. We sat there for at least 2 hours, not speaking, just sitting in a peaceful silence. It wasn't until I heard my mom shouting my name, I let out a sigh as I stood up, brushing the sand off of my hands. I sent him another smile and I began to walk away. Hey! " I heard the boy ask in a soft voice, which caused me to turn around abruptly. " Will you be back tomorrow? " he asked, I smiled at him " Yeah, I'll be here ". He only nodded standing up and the walking towards the parking lot.
Took it so far to keep you close, I was afraid to leave you on your own.
The next night, is when we spoke, even though he did most of the talking. Told me that his name was Billy and yesterday was one of the hardest days of his life, apart from his mothers funeral. His father remarried, despite his mother's passing only less than a year ago. Still missing his mom and believing his father moved on to quickly, he was hurt, broken almost. We talked for hours, and even though he had a rugged appearance, he was sweet. I wanted to be there for him and that’s how things went for those four weeks of summer. The first week was just like two buddies hanging out, sitting on the beach, secretly sneaking beers and laughing our asses at the people passing by. And the second week, kisses were stolen, lying to our parents about our whereabouts, long night drives in his camaro and then sneaking him into the rental house, to get in some make out sessions. That was the best summer vacation I'd ever had, I didn't want it to end, but when It did, he promised he'd call. And I was stupid enough to believe him.
Present
Returning back to Hawkins, Indiana, was a bummer, Already missing the blonde, it hadn't even been a day since I had seen him, that's when I realized I had feelings for him. I waited for a phone call, stupidly I waited for the rest of the summer for that damn call, but it never came. Then came the parents broke the news and told me they were separating, I chose to stay with my father because my relationship with my mother had been strained ever since I had walked in on her and her co-worker messing around. When school started again, my whole attitude had changed, friends I had before summer, ignored me now, but I could care less. When I pulled up in the parking lot Monday morning, I was unaware of what was coming. I waved to Nancy, Steve and Jonathan, the only people I'd known since I was a kid, who'd always have my back. They knew what was going on with my parents, the mystery boy I'd met on vacation. We talked until a very familiar roar of a car engine, that had just pulled up into the parking lot behind us. At first I wasn't going to look, I had other things on my mind, but my curiosity got the better of me. " Who the hell is that? " Nancy asked as the car door slam, I glanced over my shoulder seeing that same blue camaro I had been in previously. The small redheaded girl got out and skated over to the middle school. In the corner of my eye, I saw him. Something was different about him though, he seemed more confident as he strutted his way towards the building, blowing out a puff of smoke on the way. I let out a sigh, turning back to my friends, only to give Nancy a shrug.
Tell me how's it feel sittin' up there, feeling so high but too far away to hold me.
It wasn't before Billy became the talk of the school, a new piece of meat for the girls and a new king for the guys to follow. I'd kept my distance, something didn't seem right with his persona now, maybe those four weeks we spent together were fake. It wasn't until lunch that he noticed me, I was sitting at the normal table the gang and I hung out at, talking to Jonathan about his vacation and my parents divorce, he understood because he'd been through it himself. I felt something hit me in the side, making me look over at the table that Billy now ran. He sent me a cocky smile, letting me know, that he knew I was there. I did not smile back, just turned back and started my conversation with Jonathan once again. No matter how strong my feelings were for him, I had other things to deal with. I had a feeling things weren't going to turn out in my favor anyway, he didn't seem like someone who would want to be tied down, so I chose to ignore him.
You know I'm the one who put you up there, name in the sky, does it ever get lonely?... Thinking you could live without me.
Days went on, Billy continued trying to get my attention, he even started calling, which was funny, because of how long I had waited for him to call me and now I had no interest in talking to him. It wasn't until one afternoon, I was pulled into an empty hallway by the blonde himself. " What the hell are you doing?! " I asked with an exclaimed huff, " Why are you ignoring me, I've been trying to talk to you " he questioned. I shrugged slightly " Because I have no interest in talking to you " , Billy sighed deeply " I know I didn't tell you I was moving here, hell I didn't even know myself, until a week before hand ". I rolled my eyes " You honestly think I'm mad because you didn't tell me you were moving to the same town I live in... I'm mad because you didn't call me at all like you said you would. then you're putting on this big shot act, when we all know you're a fluffy, cuddle boy " , " I didn't realize you were such a prude and I'm only a fluffy cuddle boy with you! " he sighed quietly. He was about to say something else but was cut off when someone called his name from down the hallway. " Don’t want to keep your loyal subjects waiting, King Hargrove " I stated while rolling my eyes and walking away, " This isn't over Y/N, it's far from it " he called after me. Then about a week later, is when he approached me again and this time he wasn't letting me get away that easily. It was at a party, he and I had both been drinking. There were some shouting words between us, but in the end, we ended up, making out in the backseat of his camaro. What a fun trip this would be.
Gave Love 'bout a hundred tries, just running from the demons in your mind.
Billy parked his car outside of my house, before climbing into my window ( Which had become a habit of his ). He let out a dramatic sigh as he landed on my bed, " Bad day? " I chuckled turning around in my seat. " God, Tina is such a boring bitch! Talked for 30 minutes about that damn fight she had with Carol, about who was going to wear that ugly ass sweater to Dirk’s party this weekend. I took her out, she should've realized I only waned one thing and it wasn't her company " he groaned, " I have you, if I want company ". I rolled my eyes, taking slight offence by his words. Here I was with my stupid crush on this boy and I think he just friend zoned me. I tossed a pillow at him, letting out a small laugh. " You should realize by now Billy, the girls here want to change you. They wanna see which girl you choose to be yours, it's like a damn competition " I stated letting out a dry chuckle, " It was the same way with Steve ". " And he chose Wheeler? Pathetic " Billy scoffed, I tossed yet another small pillow at him " Hey, their my friends! ", " I don't know why, the things Tommy's said about him, he's a fucking joke " Billy scoffed one more time. I stood up and walked towards him " Tommy's an idiot and a liar, has been all his life... Used to pee his pants and try to blame it on someone else ", Billy chuckled while draping his arm around me " I think you're the only good person in this town, I'm glad we're talking again ". I rolled my eyes with a small smile " No, there's other good people around, you just have to know where to look. So far, you're not having the best of luck ", he nodded as he started to dose off slightly. I sighed while pushing him down onto my bed, he passed out moments later. This is what happened most nights, either Billy would come over after going out with someone or when he'd fight with his dad. But, he always ended up spending the night. And even though I wish things were different, I was content with how we were now.
Then I took yours and made 'em mine, I didn't notice 'Cause my love was blind.
Night by night, Billy ended up at my house, in my room. Bruised face, the fights with his father were getting worse and Billy's attitude wasn't any better. Problems with his dad wouldn't settle, he started random fights with kids at school only fulled the fire that was burning inside. The many nights of me, patching him up and then explaining to my own father why Billy was over almost every night. After explaining, my father ( Who was a good man ) allowed the late night visits to continue. Invited him over for dinner, even tried to form a friendship with him. Unfortunately, because of the problems with his own father, Billy didn't like to be around grown men all that much, but tried his best. I don't know when it happened, but my feelings for this boy had grown to an extent. We'd lay in my bed, sometimes on top of each other, sometimes not, just talking things out. Telling me about his mom, how he was planning on moving back to California when school was over, told me he wanted to bring me along. Which I rolled my eyes to, but secretly hoped it could be a reality. That's when I realized ' Damn, I was in love with Billy Hargrove '. The months we have spent together were incredible, almost like a dream, because that's all it ended up being, a dream. The night I told him I loved him will be one that I'd never forget. He had climbed through my window once more, 2:00 am. I was half asleep when I blurted it out, he didn't say anything in return, just kissed me. Which led to other other things, a lot of other things. the next morning when I woke up though, he was gone. But in my delusional mind, everything about the situation was normal, how stupid was I?
Said I'd Catch you if you fall, and if they laugh then fuck 'em all.
The weeks on, nothing changed. School, after school job that I had just started, hanging out with my friends and lots of rides in that Damn blue camaro. My friends have tried to warn me about what was bound to happen, but I was blinded by love. I heard whispers about me in the hallways at school, again I chose to ignore them. Carol and Tommy chuckled every time I walked past them, but I brushed it off. I didn't want to believe that Billy was a bad person, because he hadn't been bad to me, not that I knew of. The frisky and flirty nights we had together were great, but after so long, I wanted more and I was waiting on him to make the first move. Tuesday afternoon, I was at the Wheelers house, Nancy and I were doing our homework together. She and I hadn't spent much time together recently and I missed her, but I received something I wasn't expecting ( In the back of my mind though, I knew it was coming ). She kept eyeballing me weirdly while we were working on Math, at first I thought she was copying my paper, but then I realized she was smarter than I was and didn't need to copy. " What do you keep looking at me like that for? " I asked letting out a sigh, setting my pencil down and leaning back into the chair. She shook her head wildly, while looking down at her book. " Nancy... " I stated with an eyebrow raised, " I just found out some information and I know I should tell you, but I don't want you to get mad at me " she stated nervously fast. " I'm not gong to be mad at you Nance, I swear.... So Spill! " I exclaimed, " I know you've been hearing things about Billy in school, but they're true. He's using you ". I sighed deeply while biting my lip " Nancy, he's not. I know everyone has their opinion about him and I know you, Steve and Jonathan all hate him,but he's not a bad guy to me ", " It's not that we hate him, actually yes we can't stand him and I know he makes you happy, I wouldn't bring this up if it wasn't necessary. I don't want to see you get hurt " she stated seriously. I nodded as she continued. " Tina and Rebecca told me that they've been out with him, you know, going for drives. They said that he talks about you to them, makes fun of you, saying your obsessed with him and he doesn't actually like you, your just a nice piece of ass " she then sighed. I took a breath in and glanced down at my hands, catching sight of the small music note on my pointer finger. ( Flashback ) Sitting in the blue Camaro, outside the tattoo shop. " Come on Babe, I told you that it's not that painful. It'll go by quick " Billy stated as he lit a cigarette, I rolled my eyes " yeah, then why don't you get one ". " You know my dad will kill me, he already criticized me for getting my ear pierced " he stated, " I just don't think it's a good idea, tattoo's are permanent " I muttered. He sighed while grabbing my hand " I'll be there with you the whole time, I'll even hold your other hand ", I raised my brow as he sent me a smirk. " Fine " I sighed, he continued to smirk " I'll reward you later, I think it's hot that you want a tattoo, no matter the size ". I smirked back " Is that a promise? ", he nodded " Absolutely " ( End Flashback ). " Y/N? " Nancy asked, " Are you okay? ". I looked at her with my brow furrowed, " You zoned out " Nancy sighed realizing I was thinking of Billy. I sent her a small smile to reassure her " I'm fine Nance, thanks for telling me though ", she nodded eyeing me again " What are you going to do? ". I let out a deep sigh " I don't know, I just don't know ".
And then I got you off your knee's, put you right back on your feet, Just so you could take advantage of me.
That night I couldn't sleep, I ignored the tapping on my window at Midnight and then the 2am phone calls that came after. My head was spinning and even though I was still in a slight denial about being played by the blonde, I thought about everything that had taken place in this messed up relationship he and I had. And it clicked, it all finally made sense. I made an excuse not to go to school that day, I pretended to be sick and with my dads busy schedule, he believed me. I lounged around all day, reading magazines, listening to music, snacking. I let out a deep huff when a loud knocking from the front door startled me out of my nap, I peaked out the peep hole, only to see that blonde head of hair. I rolled my eyes, of course he ditched the rest of the day of school. I didn't answer the door, instead I went up to my room and made sure my window was locked. The last thing I needed was for him to come crawling through my window, when I was trying to avoid him. I wasn't ready to talk to him yet, my mind was still trying to figure out what it was going to do, even though my heart already knew what I had to do and it was taking my head longer to catch up. That night I spent two hours talking to Nancy, who told me with me not being in school, Billy spent his whole day hanging on Rebecca and Tina. I sighed deeply, I guess I was going to be the to end what we had, he sure as hell wasn't going to do it. I was done with this though, I wasn't going to put up with this anymore, no matter how strong my feeling were for this boy. I attended school the next day, hearing louder whispers about me and I knew the day was going to be... Horrible.
You don't have to say just what you did, I already know. I had to go and find out from them, so tell me how's feel.
Halfway through the day, everything was going smoothly. I hadn't run into Billy yet, but I was a pro at avoiding people. Unfortunately, I couldn't avoid him forever though. It was lunch, I was waiting in line, ready to grab my food. That's when I was pulled out of line by the sleeve of my sweater and into a hallway close to the cafeteria, I shook off the blonde and glared at him. " What do you want! " I stated with huff, " Why are you ignoring me? I thought we were hanging or yesterday. " he sighed deeply. shrugged " I changed my mind ", " Why are you acting like this, what's changed with your attitude? " he groaned deeply. " I'm just tired of you taking advantage of me " I ten stated sternly, " What!? Your Crazy " he stated with an eye roll. " I'm not Crazy Billy, I'm a damn idiot! To think that maybe you felt something more for me, that I wasn't like every other girl you've slept with. All the conversations we had, every time I cleaned you up after a fight with your dad, I was there! You knew how I felt about you and You took advantage of it, knowing I'd do anything for you " I took in a deep breath, " I'm not doing this anymore, you've been screwing with my feelings and running around town fucking other girls! Playing two sides, you're different when you're with me and as soon as you're n public you become this macho asshole, I know what you've been saying about me and I'm done with it! I'm done with whatever this is! " I then stated while motioning between him and I. He looked at me dumbfounded, this was the first time I've ever seen this boy speechless. I shook my head, too afraid to shed any tears. Before he could say anything though, his friends interrupted. " Hey Bill, it's pizza day! Leave the stalker behind, let's go before it's all gone " Tommy stated in a rush, Carol and Tina chuckled behind him. I raised a brow, " Oh, so I'm the stalker now. If that's the case, then Bill needs to stop coming in through my window every night, since I'm the stalker and obsessed, right... Enjoy pizza day " I then stated with a smirk as I then proceeded to walk away from the group. " Y/N! " Billy shouted after me, but I only shook my head as I made my way back into the cafeteria. Over and done with. Maybe I was over doing it a bit, to over dramatic, but I was hurt. I had put my own feelings to the side, just to help with his problems. I wasn't putting myself through this anymore.
{ 3rd Person P.O.V }
Throughout the rest of the day, Billy tried to get Y/N's attention, did anything he could do to get her to talk to him, but she stayed strong. He left school later that day, having to talk to a teacher about his failing grade. When reached his car that day, there was a note placed carefully under the windshield wiper. At first he was pissed because someone had touched his precious car, but when he noticed Y/N's handwriting he let out a relaxed sigh, she was the only one who could. He read the note moments later, letting out a breath. Thinking you could live without me, baby I'm the one who put you up there, I don't know why - Y/N. And that's when Billy knew, he'd fucked up.
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Hey guys, I really hope you Enjoyed! I really enjoyed writing this and I am willing to write a part 2 if your interested, Thank you so much for Reading, Hope your Holidays went well and You're all Amazing <3<3
#Billy Hargrove#billy hargrove imagine#billy hargrove angst#billy hargrove fanfic#billy hargrove fanfiction#stranger things angst#stranger things imagine#dacre montgomery#angst#imagine#fanfiction#fanfic#story#Thank You#thanks for reading#thank you for the support#your amazing#hope you enjoy#writer
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Last Goodbye
@a-monthly-rumbelling For some of the images on the mood board.
WARNINGS - Character death. Cancer. Mourning. Angst.
-x-x-x-
Belle’s traveled to America to find Weaver and carry out Lacey’s last wishes.
-x-x-x-
Finding Detective Weaver hadn’t been easy. Belle had been hampered by the fact he didn’t appear to have a first name, and everyone in the Hyperion Heights police department looked at her as if they’d seen a ghost. She’d expected that reaction, of course, she was used to it, she was Lacey’s twin after all. Finally, she’d managed to track down Weaver’s old partner, Rogers. He’d been skittish about speaking to her, but at least he hadn’t done the usual and blurt out something like ‘Damn you’re the spitting image of Lacey’, that was never going to get easier to hear.
Rogers listened to what she had to say and shrugged; “The thing about Weaver is he values his privacy.”
Belle swallowed her sigh; “Lacey told me as much, which is why she asked me to go to him, rather than send a lawyer.”
Rogers cocked his head at her and frowned; “Why didn’t you talk to him at the funeral?”
“Weaver was at Lacey’s funeral?”
She listened in shock as he explained how Weaver had taken compassionate level and flew to Australia as soon as he’d gotten word of Lacey’s passing. He’d been right there in the chapel, and never introduced himself, or spoken a word to her. Thinking back Belle had a dim recollection of a man in a dark denim standing at the back of the chapel.
“He came back a few days after the funeral, that’s when we found out he’d quit, cleaned out his desk and left.”
Belle took a shaky breath and tried to keep her tone level; “Since Weaver didn’t take a moment to offer his condolences I’ve had to fly half-way around the damn world to carry out my sister’s last wishes, so how about you make this hell of a trip a tiny bit easier for me and give me his goddamn address?”
Rogers handed over a folded piece of paper; “Weaver was a tough one, but he fell apart when Lacey left.”
“Yeah, I know the feeling. She left me twice.”
-o0o-
It was a four-hour drive from Hyperion Heights to the little coastal town Weaver had relocated to. Belle didn’t take in any of the scenery, she just kept her eyes on the road. When there was a break in the music, she could hear the gentle slosh of the bottle in the back seat. She ignored it, wouldn’t, couldn’t let herself think about what, who was sitting in a box next to that bottle.
-o0o-
Rogers had called ahead to warn him, so he’d spent most of the last few hours keeping watch on the road from his porch. Weaver watched the little rental car pull up to his house. He braced himself, but the shock of seeing someone who looked so like Lacey get out still knock the breath from his lungs. As she got closer, he could see the differences, subtle things in the way she carried herself, little gestures that Lacey would never have made.
He stood up as she reached the steps of his porch; “Miss French.”
“Mr Weaver.”
During the long tense moment that followed Weaver learned the Belle did share some traits with Lacey. He recognized that look of burning anger simmering in her eyes. From Lacey that had meant a yelling match followed by hot, angry make-up sex. From Belle he suspected that the yelling match would be followed by him getting slapped in the face.
“Would you like to come inside?”
“I suppose that would be best.”
Oh yeah, he’d be lucky if a slap was all he got. As soon as she was clear of the door Belle spun on her heel and glared at him.
“You could have saved me a long trip, had you bothered to introduce yourself at the funeral.”
He softly closed the door and moved away from it.
“I was planning to, but after I heard your eulogy I couldn’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
Weaver glanced at her, but quickly looked away; “You want a drink?”
He heard rustling as she reached into the large bag over her shoulder; “Lacey thought you might need a few. She sent you this.”
Belle was holding out a bottle of Johnnie Walker Blue. Weaver took it from her with a frown; “This makes no sense. This is my favourite tipple, but why would she send you here with this when she never told me she was sick?”
“Oh, for fucks sake!”
Weaver jerked, for a second there it was as if Lacey was in the room. As it turned out she was in a way. Belle lifted an urn from her bag and set it on his coffee table, then she sat down on his couch.
“I’ll take that drink, please.”
He bounced the bottle of Johnnie Walker in his hand and picked up two glasses from the shelf. His hands went through the familiar motions of cracking the seal and unscrewing the lid, but his eyes never left the urn, even as he poured two very large measures into the waiting glasses. He handed Belle a glass and was about to take a sip from his own when he paused and reached for a third glass. He filled it and place in in front of the urn.
Belle and he raised their glasses in a silent toast to the dead. The silence lingered for long minutes afterwards until Belle spoke.
“She just arrived, no phone call, just walked into my library with a grin on her face and said ‘wotcher sis’, like it had only been a week since we’d seen each other not three years.
When she told me why she had come home, that she was dying of the same cancer that had taken our mom, to be honest I felt like throttling her. It’s so hard watching a some one you love wither away, and she’d come home so I’d have to watch her fade.”
Belle snorted and took a sip of her drink; “I actually asked her why she hadn’t stayed in America with all of her precious friends.”
“What did she say?”
“That she didn’t know how to get through death with her friends, but she did with me.”
He didn’t know what to say. Lacey had sought the comfort of family in her final days, he could understand that, but by doing so she had placed an impossible burden on her sister. He took a swing of whiskey and sighed; “I wish she’d told me.”
“Would you have stayed with her to the end?”
“Yes.”
Belle reached over for the bottle and topped up their glasses. Weaver was surprised at how much she had drunk, he’d not noticed her keeping pace with him.
“I thought you were just another of her fuck buddies at first.”
He huffed; “Yeah we started that way, but then we were something more. At least I thought we were.”
The bitter sting that Lacey hadn’t told him of her cancer had changed into a dull ache beneath his ribs, a constant companion to the hole in his heart.
“Watching mom die killed our father, did you know that?”
He shook his head. Lacey hadn’t talked much about her parents.
“Yeah. Destroyed him, the man he was died the day of her funeral, the bitter empty man he became walked around for another six years before his heart gave out.”
The whiskey caught the fading light as he rolled the glass between his hands as he considered her words. He had been a jaded and bitter bastard before Lacey had crash-landed in his life. Had she cared enough about him to not want him to watch her die?
“She could have given me the choice.”
He felt Belle shrug; “We lived through what happened to dad after he made the choice to stay. I can understand why she wouldn’t want to risk that happening again.”
He was about to say that not knowing she was ill had pretty well fucked him up anyway, except it hadn’t, not it that way. He was grieving, but he wasn’t self-destructive, he’d quit his job partly because he was tired of it, but mostly because he knew it would be far too easy for him to take his grief out on the scumbags of Hyperion Heights. He couldn’t help but smile at the urn, he could almost see Lacey raising an eyebrow at him and pointing out her way was the right way.
For the first time since they had started talking, he turned his gaze from the urn and onto Belle. The fire had drained from her eyes, replaced with sadness and something else he couldn’t quite place. Whatever it was it set his copper instincts tingling; “Why did she want you to bring her to me?”
“She wants us to scatter her ashes together, into the sea at sunset she said.”
They both looked out of the window, the sun was getting low. Weaver reached for the bottle of whisky and Belle for the urn, as one they rose. He led her through the house to the back door and the little path that wound its way to the shore. It was strange, Belle fell into step with him as easily as Lacey had, but it so different.
They stopped on the edge of the waves. The setting sun had painted the sky in shades of magenta and orange.
“Lacey had a lipstick that colour in her goth phase. The purple not the orange.”
Weaver nodded; “She did her nails in something close to the orange once.”
Belle’s hands were trembling as she offered the urn to Weaver. He tucked the whiskey bottle under his arm and steadied the urn with one hand as he unscrewed the lid with the other. She looked up at him, a question in her eyes. He knew she wanted to know if he wanted to say something.
“Love you Lacey. Safe travels sweetheart.”
It wasn’t much, he’d never been a poet, but it felt right. Together the tipped the urn. The wind caught the ashes and scattered them over receding sea. Belle held the urn loosely by her side as Weaver unscrewed the whiskey bottle and poured a large shot into the water. He offered the bottle to Belle, who took a swig and handed it back to him. As Weaver took a drink Belle shivered.
“She went out on her own terms at the end, but she was very sick. I had to help her.”
Weaver wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He knew now why Lacey had wanted them to do this together. From what he’d seen at the funeral Belle didn’t have many people to help her through this. He’d cut himself off from everyone who might have helped him. Lacey had brought them together so they could support each other.
They’d have to talk at some point, but for now they stood together as the tide ebbed and the colours of the sunset faded from the sky.
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