#although we do live in texas so [shrug]

[lovingly-lightbulbs]

argh it fucking SUCKS not knowing where the trans people are at my college

[formulawolff]

x. bringing the heat in miami - t.w.

pairing: female driver! x toto wolff

word count: 3.6k

warnings: cursing, mentions of sex, mentions of masturbation, lewd humor, age gap relationship, ANGST, naughty text messages, banter, light flirting, toto being down astronomically bad (like actually in the trenches) yadayadayada

prev. | next.

party in the city where the heat is on 

all night, on the beach till the break of dawn

“welcome to miami”

“bienvenidos a miami"

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will smith’s infamous track fills your ears as you stroll in through the main gate of the track, fans clustered in thick waves. your name is called more times than you can count. posters, caps, shirts, you name it, wave about, begging to be signed. 

the sun shines overhead, casting bright, fiery light all around. although it was only around eight in the morning, humidity clung to the air, creating a sticky, dewy sensation on your exposed skin. fluffy clouds drift along, carried by a breeze as it rolls through. 

god, the weather was perfect.

hopefully it would be like this on race day.

“welcome to miamiiii,” alex bobs his head, singing along to the music, “are you excited? it is your home turf, after all.”

“if we were in phoenix, i think i would feel a little closer to home,” you suppress a giggle, “but yes, i am really fucking excited. everyone loves a race in their home country.”

“we’ll be in austin soon enough in october,,” alex shrugs, “when we’re in austin, i need you to show me how to ride a bull and teach me how to perfect that smooth texas drawl. i want to be like one of those little aunties who always say, ‘y’all come back now!’ like dolly parton! ” 

“you’re ridiculous,” the giggles blossom into a full-on laugh, “you don’t just start speaking with a southern accent. that’s not how that works.”

“sure it is,” alex nods, “hey, your parents are coming out for the race, right?”

“yes sir! they will finally get to see their baby girl in action!”

“they didn’t come out for a single grand prix last year?” alex raises a brow.

“i wasn’t winning races last year,” you counter, “i told them not to worry about spending that money during my rookie year. not everyone’s parents are loaded, you know.”

which, was a true statement. 

your parents had invested their time, hard-earned cash, weekends off, and a portion of their lives to get you here. you didn’t expect them to fly out for every single grand prix, make every event, or pay another dime towards your expenses. 

unlike many of the drivers, you were not born into an extremely lavish lifestyle. your parents were modest people, who happened to have a child later in life. ever since you were born, they lived in the same house, drove the same vehicles, and got by adequately. since they both worked full-time, getting you into the racing world was no simple feat. 

yet, they were determined to make your dreams become a reality. after years of careful coordination to the karting tracks, weekends devoted to races, and thousands upon thousands of dollars spent, you were offered a contract with williams racing. of course, you accepted that offer graciously. 

now, you were steadily paying your parents back for their dedication. once you signed your contract and those zeroes hit your bank account, you went out to the nearest dealership, purchasing a suburu wrx. with the premium package, at that. 

you would never forget your dad’s face the moment you pulled into the driveway, beaming as you placed the keys in his hand. 

that was one of the only moments you had ever watched him cry, wrapping you up in a tight, loving embrace.

“you didn’t have to do this. being your father is a gift in itself.”

“but you deserve it. you’ve sacrificed so much so that i could be in this position.”

“and you deserve nothing but the best, baby girl. you are going to be one of the greatest drivers formula one has ever seen. you make us so proud. keep making us proud. keep defying those odds. keep making history, baby girl.”

keep making history, baby girl.

as you stroll into the paddock, greeting the engineers, pit crew, and other team members, you can’t shake that feeling brewing deep within. 

it’s is a fiery desire, setting you ablaze with determination. 

you were going to keep making history. 

you were going to be the first american to win the miami grand prix. 

you were going to be the first woman to win two consecutive grand prixes. 

you were going to be the first woman to earn that title of world champion. 

you were going to chase that high. by any means possible. 

and nothing was going to stop you now. 

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“look at him,” lewis hamilton shakes his head, “he looks absolutely pitiful.”

“you think his little relationship is on the rocks?” 

“quite the contrary mate,” lewis remarks, folding his arms across his chest, “i think it’s more like the poor man is depraved. obviously the euphoria has worn off. he’s come down from that high. the man is craving more. plain and simple. a hand can only do–”

“i don’t need the mental image of my team principal wanking off,” george russell scoffs, rubbing his temple, “fuck, that is disgusting, lewis.”

toto wolff stood a few meters away from the drivers, engaged in deep conversation with bono and members of the crew. now that lewis knew the truth, he couldn’t help but notice how much power that american girl held over the team principal. it was almost as if he were deep in a trance, under some sort of spell. 

it was pitiful, really. just the sight of her was enough to send the team principal spiraling, intoxicated off her alluring aura. not like lewis could blame toto, though. there was no denying that the woman was extremely breathtaking. 

with her stunning features, witty mouth, unapologetic personality, and angelic presence, she was practically miss america.

well, not practically. 

she was miss america.  

everyone adored her. lewis could barely go throughout his morning without hearing her name being mentioned. whether it was fans, journalists, social media, even members of the mercedes crew, she was the hot topic of formula one, taking the world by storm.

toto was a lucky man. an extremely lucky man. 

if only she was into men her age. 

“my apologies mate,” lewis nudges george with his elbow playfully, “did we have anything going on today? any obligations?”

george’s brow furrow, sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose, “if we’re being honest, i can’t really remember. i think something to do with monster energy, maybe.”

“perfect,” lewis licks his lower lip, fishing his phone out of his pocket. 

time to text that little assistant. 

in all seriousness, he felt horrible for taking advantage of that young girl. she was only nineteen for fuck’s sakes, a fresh face to mercedes at the start of the 2024 season. that made her the perfect target to do his bidding. 

well, it wasn’t really bidding. 

more like investigative journalism. 

at least, that’s what lewis told himself to feel a little less guilty for what he was about to do. 

hey, do you by chance know toto’s schedule today?

seconds later, little text bubbles appear. 

he was meeting with you guys this morning, then he has an interview with the press around two-thirty p.m. it’s nothing super serious, just a brief session entailing his thoughts for the weekend. at four, he has a zoom call with a few of the mercedes execs. after that, he told me he was going to be out for the remainder of the evening. why? 

hmmm. how convenient. 

i was just curious. thanks for letting me know! i appreciate you, natila. 

of course, mr. hamilton! let me know if you need anything else! :))) 

it was now or never. go time.

after the meeting with the mercedes executives, lewis hamilton was going to knock on toto wolff’s door. he was going to stroll into that office, settling into one of those plush leather chairs. and before toto had the opportunity to speak, lewis was going to confront him about that american girl. 

how he was going to start that conversation, he had no idea. that would come to him in time as he went about his day, meeting with sponsors, flashing that lovely lewis smile, flirting with the reporters just a little. not too much so that it was obvious, but enough to make them blush a tad, giggling as they scrambled to stick to their script. 

but for now, it was time to focus on the matters at hand. 

across the track, a dutch driver strolls through the crowds, a jersey in one hand, phone in the other. glancing down at his screen, he curses under his breath at the throng of people. why were there so many people? where did they all come from? 

pausing for a moment, he taps his screen, thumb gliding through his contacts. 

“hey, where are you again?”

“we’re in the williams paddock!” her voice is an octave higher than usual, more than likely from anticipation, “we’ll see you soon!”

“sounds good,” max verstappen stifles a chuckle as he hears a voice on the other end, the words firm, demanding almost.  

“honey, who are you talking to? who’s coming over here?” 

“mom, please, just let me be on the phone for two seconds,” she exhales, “okay, i have to go. i’ll see you soon!” 

the walk to the williams paddock was excruciating, as max had to bob and weave through the masses to avoid reporters, potential sponsors, and any individual who called his name. it’s not like he didn’t like the fame that came with his success, it’s just that he didn’t like the constant cameras in his face. the prying questions. the intrusive comments. 

sometimes he wished he could just blend in, be like any other face in the crowd. yet, how could he when he was max verstappen? 

yet, as he steps into the paddock, he makes out the williams driver, her parents hovering around her as she introduces them to various members of the crew. at the sight, max can’t help but feel the corners of his lips curl into a smile as he notices the sheer and utter pride plastered across their faces. 

and they had every right to be proud of you. 

you earned it. 

“goedemorgen,” max clears his throat, raising his hand for a small wave, “i just came to stop by.”

the instant your mom realizes who is standing before her in the paddock, her eyes widen, lips parting, “oh my gosh – honey. look who it is!” 

“good morning max,” your laughter rings like bells as you cross over to the dutch driver, “how are you?”

“pretty good,” he nods, sticking out his right hand, “hallo, i’m max.”

your dad shakes his hand, squeezing it firmly, “nice to meet ya, max. i’m tony. this is my wife, heather.”

“pleased to meet you,” max beams, turning to your mom, “i brought something for you today. your daughter mentioned that you were a big fan of mine. so, i brought this jersey for you. she let me know your shirt size, so it should fit perfectly. my signature is on there somewhere, but i just can’t quite remember where.”

graciously, heather accepts the jersey, her eyes glossy, shifting to you as she wipes a tear, “oh, honey, you planned this?”

“of course i did,” wrapping an arm around her shoulders, you pull her in for a hug, “i couldn’t bear the thought of you guys attending the race without meeting any of my friends. besides, you deserve an all-inclusive experience at your first grand prix.”

“besides,” max shoots you a wink, “i wanted to meet the woman who crafted such a talented driver.”

at max’s compliment, your mom’s face flushes, “oh please! i can barely make it on the freeway without having a nervous breakdown. i don’t know how she can drive these things. it amazes me how confident she is and–.”

“i could show you,” max offers, “i have some free time tomorrow. i’m sure we could all meet up somewhere and i could take you for a spin, show you the ropes. how does that sound?”

“oh max,” your mom waves a hand, “you do not–”

“but i want to. it’s no issue. no issue at all.” 

“then it’s a plan,” you can’t help but grin as your moms’ eyes light up, “what time works for you, max? since it’s only thursday, we’ll have some time in the morning before the practice laps. or, we could go after. whatever works for you.”

“let’s go in the morning,” max suggests, checking his phone, “i think i can make a few calls. have someone bring in a car. we’ll take it out on the track.”

“is that allowed?” your mom arches a brow, “i just don’t want you two to get in any sort of trouble. 

“oh mom,” you roll your eyes playfully, gesturing to max, “that is max verstappen. whatever max verstappen wants, max verstappen gets.”

“she’s not wrong.”

“okay fine,” your mom nods, and you feel a giggle forming at her overprotective nature. 

“just don’t give me a heart attack out there, max. i have a very important race to watch on sunday.”

as your parents talk to max, alex making his way into the conversation, you feel the buzz of your phone in your pocket. carefully, you fish it out, ensuring to shield your screen from your mom’s wandering gaze. 

this is unbearable. i need to see you tonight. are you going to have any free time? i vaguely recall you mentioning that your parents were going to be here. i will take no offense if you would like to spend time with them. i know you do not get to see them often. 

i need to be inside you, schatzi. i can’t think straight right now because the only thing i can think about is fucking that perfect pussy of yours. 

i miss my golden girl. more than anything. 

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“lewis? this is a pleasant surprise.”

“how’s it going mate?” lewis hamilton bears a quaint smile as he settles into a chair, face-to-face with the team principal, “things going well?”

“eh,” toto shrugs, his head bowed as he types away on his phone, “same old shit, you know.” 

“things going well with the horseback rider?”

oh, so he wasn’t going to drop it. silently, toto curses the attentive nature of his british driver, “they’re fine.”

“so,” lewis leans back, folding his arms across his chest, “when were you going to fess up and admit that your little girlfriend doesn’t ride horses?”

“i don’t understand what you–”

lewis scoffs, clicking his tongue, “i know exactly who your little girlfriend is because she’s a few spaces ahead of me on the grid.”

shit.

the expression painting lewis’ features is brimmed with satisfaction, his gaze piercing right through the team principal as he shifts uneasily in his desk chair, running a hand through his hair. 

toto was well aware that lewis had completely blindsided him, pinning him in a corner. it was quite literally perfect timing, as the team principal was merely minutes away from organizing his things, shutting down his computer, and heading out the door, well on his way to his golden girl. 

well played, lewis. well played. 

yet, he had to maintain his composure. he had to maintain that poker face as lewis cocks his head, prompting him to formulate some sort of witty retort. 

“i’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

“bullshit,” lewis shakes his head, “you’re not a very good liar, toto. you of all people should know that i can read you like a bloody book. how long has this been going on?”

well, he had to fess up now. lewis would continue to call him out on his shit if he kept up with the lies. letting out a shaky breath, the team principal hangs his head in defeat, his heart thumping against his rib-cage, wiping his damp palms on his slacks.

no going back now. time to come clean. 

“since she won in jeddah. but if we’re being technical, it started in bahrain.”

“wait,” lewis sticks his hands up, squeezing his eyes shut, “pause. this has been going on since the start of the season? for weeks you’ve been sneaking around, meeting up with her in secret or something? was she the one who came to brackley between melbourne and suzuka?”

with all of the questions pouring from lewis’ mouth, toto’s mind reeled, a swirling torrent of anxiety, fear, and disappointment. his cheeks burn with shame, tinged pink. 

“yes, she was.”

tilting his head, lewis’ lips purse, “you like her?”

“well isn’t that blatantly fucking obvious,” propping his elbows on the desk, he massages his temples with his fingers, “how did you find out?”

“it wasn’t hard,” lewis shrugs, “i mean, i see the way you look at her.” 

toto’s eyes narrow at lewis’ vague response, “how. did. you. find. out?”

“natila texted me about it,” lewis coughs, averting the team principal’s beady stare, “she may have heard a conversation or two.” 

“regarding?” toto presses, satisfaction pumping in his veins as lewis starts to crack, shifting in the chair, “come on, lewis. you can’t just march in here and demand answers from me without sharing your sources. what did natila hear?”

“she heard the entire conversation you had with the drive to survive crew while we were in suzuka. they mentioned that they had footage of you walking over to her motorhome. that’s all natila heard. don’t fire the poor girl,” the words were rushed, breathy, “it was my fault. i asked her what she heard. i told her i would pay her if she told me what she knew.”

“well,” toto blinks, swallowing thickly, “did you end up paying her?”

“only like five thousand.”

“that’s quite a large sum over something you could have just asked me about personally,” clasping his hands together, toto raises a brow, “why didn’t you just come to me instead?”

“because you got so fucking defensive the first time i asked about it!” 

lewis did have a point. 

a good point, at that.

it was not like the team principal would have withheld information regarding his developing relationship with the williams driver. it was more like he feared what would ensue if he did share what had transpired. he trusted lewis, he really did. additionally, it wasn’t like this was just some average woman. his career, her future, and so much more were at stake. the benefits of keeping it all under wraps greatly outweighed the risk of discovery. 

more importantly, he was protective of his golden girl. 

she was his little escape from it all. a breath of fresh air after excruciatingly long nights in the paddock or disappointing days on the track. she was his sun, shining her vivid, warm, golden rays into his dreary and dull life. 

sure, toto was a billionaire. but money was not everything. 

nearly every day, toto’s mind wandered to their time spent together in brackley. the way she felt against his skin. the way her shy smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. the way her fingers felt intertwined with his. the way her lashes fluttered as she slept, lips parted ever so slightly. the way his hands roamed her curves, relishing the softness of her. 

that memory alone was worth far more than the number of zeroes in his bank account. 

“you’re falling in love, aren’t you?”

lewis’ voice is low, dangerously quiet. yet, there’s a curious glint in his eyes, the bitterness and anger no longer present. his body language is more relaxed, legs crossed, the driver fiddling with his thumbs. 

“i –” toto stutters, scrambling to find the right words, “yes, i am.”

“does she know?” 

“no,” he inhales sharply, “she doesn’t.”

“you want to tell her though, don’t you?”

“it would just feel rushed,” the team principal dismisses lewis’ inquiry, his voice hardening, “i have to be realistic here. no one falls in love that quickly. that’s just petulant.”

“well look at it this way,” lewis offers, “if you’ve had your eye on her for some time, then it’s really not that rushed. clearly, if you’re feeling those emotions so deeply, then it’s accumulated over time. i don’t want to pry, but how long have you been attracted to her?”

“you don’t want to know,” a chuckle rumbles in the team principal’s chest, “it’s embarrassing, really.”

“no, no, no,” lewis tuts, “tell me, toto. how long?”

“december 2022, when she signed her contract with williams. when i saw that photo of her, i knew i had to have her. last summer, in monaco, i may have slipped up and approached her at the afterparty. i flirted with her, but she dismissed me. so, i kept my distance. however, it was just growing harder and harder to stay away. it was impulsive, that night in bahrain. but i wanted to make a move before anyone else got to her.”

as toto finishes, he can’t help but notice lewis’ smirk, “holy shit, toto. you’ve been wrapped around her finger for quite some time then, yeah?”

“i wouldn’t say that–” toto begins, clicking his tongue, yet, he’s swiftly cut off as a new figure cracks open the door. 

george russell leans against the doorframe, arms folded across his chest. his lips are pressed together, forming a tightly wound frown. 

“way to include me in the gossip session, guys. what did i miss? clearly, quite a lot. if you don’t mind, i would like to join the conversation. toto, would you start from the top? even though i’ve already heard most of it, when were you going to bring it to my attention that you were fucking that bloody williams driver?”

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taglist: @younxii @toldyouitwasamelodrama @kravitzwhore @persona1lies @pucksandpower @k3ira13 @prettiest-at-the-party @martwll @annewithaneofthegreengable @zoeyjadetice2010  @sinners-98-world @laura-naruto-fan1998 @nebarious @joalslibrary @swifth0lic

as always, if i forgot to include you, please let me know! thank you all for the continuous support! i love y'all sm!! <33

[ofstoriesandstardust]

i bet on losing dogs (t.o./k.c.)

a/n: i watched this film less than 48 hours ago and i'm already unwell. here is my kate and tyler angst but mostly kate! tyler was a moment but kate was the whole movie!

summary: Somewhere along the way, you end up in Kate and Tyler's orbit. They've got you. (tyler owens/kate cooper/female reader)

warnings: tornadoes, i'm from california cut me some slack, angst with a hopeful ending, nightmares, hurt/comfort, temporary character death

word count: 4.1k

It’s by chance you ever end up in the path of the Wranglers and into Tyler and Kate’s lives. 

They aren’t even looking for someone to help manage the team but even Boone and Lilly can admit that with the attention they’re getting, they need someone who can keep up. 

So by chance, by luck, or all because of a tornado, Tyler ends up connecting with you through a friend of his from UA. 

The job description is unorganized chaos, simply put. Managing the crew on a day to day basis is enough, not to mention helping them manage the finances, stay within legal code, managing the social media, and getting their foots in the door for grants and sponsors. 

Boone’s convinced you’ll run screaming from the team all the way back to the city, Javi too, but it actually ends up to be a seamless fit. 

You help Lilly and Boone with the sales, the production of merch, and all the channels. You’re even the one who sets up a Tiktok, their donations and attention increasing tenfold. You research grants and donors for Javi and Kate and you help Tyler source new equipment for the team. 

When all is said and done, three months have flown by and Tyler is forever grateful you’d been blown into their path. You’ve blossomed with this crew and they’re changed because of it. 

Not to mention the way you’ve grown into Kate and Tyler’s relationship. Although they never say it, unsure of how to fold you into their dynamic, you’re there in ways that complement their already existing chemistry. 

Kate’s quite fond of you too, he knows. He would’ve seen it a million miles away, the way Kate’s eyes had sparkled meeting you, the way they do in the field. But she’d say the same about him, citing the way he goes soft for you in a way he’d only ever done for Kate. 

The problem is - he still can’t figure out how you even managed to end up here. 

“C’mon.” Javi says, nudging you. “How the hell does a city girl like you find her way to hell’s corner in Oklahoma, managing a bunch ragtag storm chasers?” 

You shrug, fiddling with your beer bottle, glancing out at the group sat around the crackling fire. You and Javi are sat a top Ty’s truck, the crew looking intently at you. “You just asking or you really wanna know?”

The group breaks into various calls, corralling you into telling them. 

“It’s kind of a long story.” You defend, a sheepish grin growing on your face. 

Javi nudges your shoulder again. “C’mon, tell us. We barely know anything about you city girl.”

“A couple months ago, at the start of tornado season, I was in Texas, for a friends joint bachelor/bachelorette party. We were at a rodeo and I had gotten separated from the group. An EF4 hit the place out of nowhere and I wasn’t able to get back to the shelter in time. I’ve always been terrified of tornadoes, we don’t got ‘em where I’m from, but- that was something else.” You shake your head, shaking off the memories. “I should’ve died. It should’ve killed me, but it didn’t. And all I could think of was that I had been given a second chance, just barely. And what I was doing just didn’t make sense anymore.” 

Boone lets out a low whistle as Javi’s hand finds your shoulder. Tyler can feel Kate tense in concern, his own brows furrowed. 

“Within the week, I’d quit my job, got rid of all my stuff, dumped my boyfriend, and broken my lease. I didn’t know where the hell I was going but I knew I couldn’t stay there. I just needed to- to find somewhere, someplace, where I could do something tangible. I kept thinking that what I lived through was only a sliver of a glimpse into what y’all experience your whole lives out here and I- I just wanted to help.”

“So you found the Wranglers.” Lilly finishes and you nod. 

“When I’d left town, I gave Lainey a call. Her and her fiancé had been the one hosting us at their ranch for the trip and asked Lainey if she knew of anything I could do, any place I could go. Next thing I know I’m on a plane to Oklahoma and some self-proclaimed tornado wrangler I’ve never heard of is picking me up from the airport.” 

“Is this why you refuse to go storm chasing with us?” Boone calls out as Tyler sits up straighter in his chair, Kate shifting as he does. 

“Hold on a damn minute.” He asks, the group falling silent. “Lainey’s fiancé, Smith, he’d been killed at a rodeo just this year.” 

Your eyes are cautious when they meet his. “Smith gave his life for mine. He’s the one who got me to safety and he paid for it. I’ll spend the rest of my life making up for it.” 

It goes silent in the group as you avert your eyes. After a few moments, you slide down the front of Tyler’s truck, chucking your beer in the trash. 

“It ain’t your fault, you know.” Tyler calls out as you begin to walk away from the group. 

You freeze. 

“These tornados, they ain’t what they used to be. They take and take. Weather cares little of the price of human life.” Tyler says. 

“Those reports you see on the news, they’re true. They’re getting worse every year, that’s why we’re out here. It’s why you’re out here.” Javi follows up as you turn back to face the group. “We’re gonna find a way, to make things better. We’ll never be able to stop the weather, not completely, but maybe we can find a way to keep up with it.” 

“It’s okay to admit I’m not contributing much. I mean I don’t know shit about science and I don’t want to get near a tornado for the rest of my life. I’m-“ 

“Helping.” Kate protests. “You are. You might not think it but you are. We could barely do this on our own, we need you.” 

You’re hesitant to accept Kate’s words for what they are but the group seems to be giving their consensus and Tyler’s beckoning you over to him and Kate. 

“Listen,” He says, once you’re sat between him and Kate. “We might be the most ragtag bunch of hicks you ever met. But as this grows we ain’t never been able to do it without you. If we succeed, if we do this, you’ll have played no small part in it. You belong here.”

You spend the rest of the night tucked into Kate’s side the both of you quiet as the group carries on. 

It’s only as the group is getting ready for bed, Tyler putting out the fire, Boone leaving to find a bush to pee in, that you speak. 

“Sometimes I wonder why I got to live and he didn’t.”

Kate looks down at you. “You’ll drive yourself crazy if you go there you know. What you have that they didn’t. What you could do that they couldn’t.” 

“Will it be enough?” You say but Kate has no answer for you. 

Instead, she shifts upwards and away from you. 

“You should really think about coming out with us sometime.” She says. “Tornados are terrifying but they’re sometimes the most beautiful things. The way they manifest, the way the world just changes. You should give it another shot.” She gives you a soft smile before leaning down to press a soft kiss to your head. “Night. Get some sleep.” 

You lose track of how long you stare at the dying embers before Tyler comes back with another bucket of water to put the fire out for good. 

“You couldn’t have saved him, you know.” Tyler says, setting the bucket down. “But you still have a chance to help us save others. You might not see it but we need you.”

You nod. “Thanks Ty.” 

He gives you a smile. “Anytime kid. Get some rest. We’ve gotta get on the road bright and early tomorrow morning. And uh, think about changing your mind on doing some storm chasing why don’t you? There’s a whole world you’re missing out there.” 

-

It’s late under the Oklahoma skyline. Your friends have either gone off to their motel rooms or are partnered up into their own conversations but you’re too comfortable to move away from Kate, wrapped around her side. 

Your fingers brush up and down her skin, the dying fire crackling before you. As your fingers come to gently trace over her scar, you falter, smoothing your thumb over the skin. 

“Can I ask?” You speak softly. “What happened?” 

In the months that you’ve grown into this group, Kate has shared little of the story behind the scar. While you’re naturally curious, you know even more that it’s a missing piece to a girl and a relationship you’re still learning. 

Kate’s eyes look up at you, firelight reflecting a soft something you can’t name. And then she sits, tugging on your hand. 

She leads you to her shared room with Tyler, leading you inside as Tyler looks up from his phone he’s scrolling through.

It’s not unusual these days, to find yourself somewhere with these two. Whether it was curled up in their bed or around a fire or a diner table or in the back of a truck, you found yourself more and more drawn into their presence. The three of you were standing on the precipice is something and lately, it too often looked like you were the one hesitant to take the dive into uncharted waters. 

You pause at the doorway, surveying them. “You sure?” Kate nods and you slip inside, shutting the door behind you. Kate nudges you towards the bed and you go, Tyler’s warmth radiating off of him as your back finds stability against his broad frame. Kate climbs in the bed next to you, careful to leave her legs intertwined with yours. You feel her hands reach around your body, hands grazing Tyler’s. 

She licks her lips, breath shaky as her eyes flicker down to the faded tear of flesh. 

“It was six or seven years ago now. This project we’re doing out here, the one you’re supporting, it all started because of what Javi refers to as my science project.” Tyler straightens as she talks. “We… we failed.”

“What do you mean?” You ask softly. 

Kate’s eyes finally meet yours. “My friends, we were supposed to release the polymer into an EF1, maybe EF2. But- I was wrong. It was an EF5.” She screws her eyes shut. “I lost them one by one. The tornado took them from me and left nothing but devastation in its wake. The scar- it’s a reminder of them, of what I lost that day. The cost of what happens if I don’t get it right.”

“Kate.” Tyler says softly, a firm note hidden beneath it. Something in it tells you they’ve had this conversation before, that Tyler’s heard this story before. 

You wrap your arms around Kate, tucking your head on top of hers. “You’ll get it right, Kate.” You whisper. “You’ve got this.”

-

The next morning finds you with a storm on the horizon. 

You sit on the top of Tyler’s truck as he beams at you, hands on his hips. “So you coming or what, pretty lady?”

You smile at him, hands wrapped around the chipped mug Boone had lent you. Six months in the field and all you still really had to your name was your toothbrush and a pair of pajamas. “I don’t know, you promise not to drive me right into the middle of that tornado?” 

Ty chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve got my word. No fireworks or nothing. I’ll give you the best storm chase you’ll ever see.” 

“Kate coming?” You ask, unable to stop the hopeful question from tumbling past your lips. He nods, though his grin falters. 

“Javi too.” 

You shrug, handing the now empty coffee mug to him as he offers you as hand to slide down his truck. “Just tell me when.”

No less than a half hour later, the four of you are in Tyler’s truck, cruising down an empty stretch of dirt road of an abandoned town. Your gaze is on the horizon before turning it back to the people in the van. 

“So Javi, you never did tell me how you and Kate had met?”

A grin forms on his face. “Kate and I go all the way back, man. She was the OG storm hunter.” 

You can see Kate smile in the rearview mirror, your eyes meeting. “They’ve got their own handshake.” Tyler comments, a teasing lilt to his voice. 

“When do I get my own handshake?” You comment, chancing a glance back out the truck. “Holy shit, that’s what we’re chasing after?” 

“She’s gorgeous ain’t she?” Tyler roars, the truck speeding up. 

“I never thought I’d see something like this.” You breathe, eyes going wide. “There’s so little sky to see in the city. Here’s that’s all there’s to see.” 

You can’t see the grin Javi is giving you, wonder taking over your features as you crane your head to look closer. “Yeah, you’re going to be sticking around a while.” He says softly. “You’ve fallen for the charm.” 

“Ty.” Kate says sharply, tilting her monitor. “Do you see that?” Tyler peers out into the distance where she’s pointing. The car rolls to a stop as them and Javi start using words you don’t understand. 

“What? What’s happening?” 

“Do we got time to get back?” Javi says, pulling his seatbelt off. 

Tyler shakes his head, pressing his seatbelt buckle as he presses another button on his truck. “No, we gotta get low. Now.” His door flies open, and you follow suit, shouting to Kate as you do, asking what’s happening. 

She grabs your hand as the wind begins to pick up around you. “I was wrong.” She says. “It’s gotta be an EF3, at least. We’ve gotta get down.” 

“Kate! Do you see any places?!” Tyler shouts, ushering the two of you away from the car. 

She pauses, scanning the area. “There!” She shouts, pointing to a storm grate a bit farther out more towards the main road. The four of you take off, but it’s obvious you can’t keep up. The wind rages as you feel your ankle twist. The collision to the dirt hurts less than you think it’s going to as the panic in you reaches its peak. 

You’re going to die here.

“No, you ain’t.” Tyler says over the wind, arms coming up to support your under your armpit.  “Not on my watch.” 

Another set of arms lifts you up, as Kate shouts to follow her. The boys carry you the best they can but your eyes are blurry with panic. Kate takes you from them, helping you over to the storm grate. 

“Kate, I don’t- I don’t want to die.” 

“Just hold on to that.” She says firmly. You do as instructed, laying on the ground. Tyler’s body follows yours, clutching onto the grate over your body. His body covers your own, sheltering you from the worst of the weather. 

It’s only then you realize you’re shaking, from the wind or the rain or the freezing terror, you’ll never know. 

“Stay down.” Tyler bellows over the wind. “Stay low and hold on.” 

You whimper, clutching tighter to the grate as the storm’s power increases overhead. “I’ve got you.” Tyler says, Kate repeating his words. 

You aren’t sure in the haze when it all stops, just that you can’t stop shaking and the tears rolling down your face won’t end. Kate’s fingers are around yours, gently prying them from the grate as she runs a soothing hand through your hair. 

“Are you hurt?” Tyler asks bending down next to you as Kate gets the last of your fingers off of the grate. Your shoulders are shaking, unable to stop the sobs wracking your body enough to answer. 

“You’re safe.” Kate whispers. “You’re safe, we’ve got you I promise.” 

And yet all you can do is cry. You feel Tyler tentatively reaching out for you, looking over your body for an injury he might’ve missed. His hands pause underneath the Wrangler sweatshirt you’re wearing, hesitating before they slip under. When they come back clean, he pulls you to your feet. 

“I’m going to carry you back to the truck.” He says cautiously. You feel him lift you up and your hands find purchase in his shirt. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.” 

By the time you reach the truck, the tears have stopped, drying in tracks on your face. “Kate.” You say softly, as Tyler sets you in the back of the truck. He glances over his shoulder, where he can see Javi presumedly comforting Kate. 

“She’ll be here in a minute. You okay?”

You nod. “Just- just shaken up. I panicked and flashed back I guess. What’re the odds you almost get killed by a tornado twice?” 

Tyler shakes his head. “You stick around here long enough, it’ll happen more than that. Look, we were all gonna head back to town tonight anyways. Why don’t you come back to Kate and I’s? I don’t think she’ll want you to leave her sight and I don’t want you to be alone.” You nod as Ty’s thumb reaches up to rub away some of the dirt. “You’re okay. We got you. We’ll take care of you.” 

Kate returns to the truck a few moments later, wrenching the other side of the back open. “You okay?” She asks softly, climbing in next to you. 

You nod. “What were you and Javi talking about?” She glances at the man before shaking her head. 

“Nothing. Say, do you want to come back to Ty and I’s place? We’ll get your ankle all fixed up, some clean clothes. It’ll be a couple days before we’re out on the road again. Give you a chance to regroup?” 

You nod. “That would be nice. I’d like that.” 

She smiles softly, reaching out for you. “We got you.” 

-

You’re tucked up under Kate and Ty’s comforter, the fan on low as your fingers find purchase in the soft material. 

“Kate? It ain’t your fault.”

Your head peeks up at the low voices on the stairs. 

“It is.” Kate says lowly. “It is my fault. How many times is it going to take for me to learn? She could’ve died.” 

“But she didn’t.” Tyler insists. “Aside from a sprained ankle, she’ll be fine. She’ll be on the road with us in just a few days, scheduling more presentations and fancy grant sessions than we know what to do with. Fact of the matter is she’ll probably be on the phone with Lilly tomorrow morning bright and early about new designs for like, keychains or something.”

Kate sighs. “I can’t afford to get it wrong this time.” 

“You’re not going to.” Tyler says, the stairs creaking, meaning he’s probably moving closer to her. “She trusts you Kate.”

“At what cost? They trusted me then too.”

“There’s no price to be paid here Kate. She trusts you, this team. She’s got us, the same way we got her.” Tyler sighs. “Let’s just get to bed okay? I wanna be next to my girls.”

Something stirs in your chest at the way he says girls as in plural but you’re too tired and strung out to dissect it. Kate slips into the bedroom a minute later, Tyler not far behind her. She climbs into the bed next to you, quick to climb under the comforter. Tyler follows suit on your other side. 

“We got you.” She whispers, but this time, you think she may be assuring herself more than you. 

-

This was wrong. Something was wrong here. 

It almost felt, like in some weird haze, she’d lived this day before. 

This was definitely wrong. 

“Kate, c’mon! Help us!” Javi shouts. She breaks from her reverie, running to the boys to grab you from them. 

“I don’t want to die. Kate, don’t let me die.” 

But it’s some ill-fated prophecy, the way she keeps failing, because the minute the boys let go, you’re gone. 

Your screams pierce through the air as all she can do as watch. 

The wind comes to a stop, it all falling still around them as the boys stand there in horror. 

“What did you do?” Tyler asks lowly. “What did you do Kate?!”

She freezes, unable to understand what just happened. 

“How do you keep letting this happen? How do you keep failing? How come you can’t get it right when it matters?” Tyler’s shout grows. 

A breeze kicks up again, a torn, bloodied Wrangler sweatshirt coming to lay at her feet. 

She’s going to be sick. 

“It’s your fault Kate!” Tyler’s harsh yell comes as she stands there, rain and wind whipping around her. She stares numbly at the spot where you had just been, the only thing left being the sweatshirt, feeling her fingers clench around nothing. 

You had been gone in a matter of seconds, slipping through her fingers like smoke. 

“No, but I-“ She licks her lips. “No, it can’t-“

It can’t end like this. 

“Yes, Kate, yes it is!” Tyler yells, coming closer to her now. “It’s your fault that’s she’s gone! It’s her blood on your hands! It’s your fault she’s dead, just like all the others!” Tyler shouts, pacing closer to her. She flinches, raising her hands to cover her ears to block out his yells. 

“Owens, stop.” Javi calls out but it all sounds muddy as she squeezes her eyes shut, willing for this to be over. 

Behind her eyes, she could still see the terrified look in your eye, the way you had pleaded with Kate to not let you die. The scream you’d let out as the wind had pulled you away from her. 

Suddenly, there’s a hand on her, wrenching her wrist away from her ear. 

“It’s your fault she’s gone. It will always be your fault.”

Her eyes fly open, mouth around a scream.

-

Kate’s scream shatters any illusion of silence in the house as both of your heads whip towards the bedroom. 

You’ve barely had a chance to rise from the table, where you’d sat with Ty in the morning light, Tyler moving closer to the bedroom, when Kate’s rushed footsteps pound against the creaky staircase and round the corner. 

Her eyes are wild with fear but her body sags in relief at the sight of you. She pulls you to her chest, all but collapsing into your embrace, a sob escaping her chest. 

Tyler’s brow is furrowed in concern, at least what you can see of him over Kate’s shoulder. One hand stays wrapped around her waist, the other coming to rake your nails gently under Kate’s sleep shirt as she continues to sob.

“It’s all my fault. I knew the storm was going to be too big- but I-“ 

You shush Kate, continuing her movement. “I’m okay, Kate, it’s okay.”

“It’s not!” She shouts, wrenching herself away from you. She wipes at her eyes with the back of her hand sniffling as she does. “It’s not okay! I could’ve gotten you killed!” 

“Kate, it’s not your fault.” You try to soothe, taking a step closer to her but all that does is prompt a fresh round of tears. 

“Yes, it is.” She nods sadly. “Yes, yeah it is. It was my fault then and it would’ve been my fault now too.” 

You shake your head, closing the distance she’s tried to create between the two of you. “No, it’s not Kate.” You say firmly. “It wasn’t your fault then and no one blames you for those losses. It wouldn’t have been your fault yesterday and I wouldn’t have blamed you either. The weather we chase is unpredictable and ever-changing. Loss is the name of the game we play.” 

She heaves a breath, her shoulders shaking. “You’re not an acceptable loss.” 

“Kate, if I had died yesterday, I would’ve died knowing you and Ty had done everything you could’ve to keep me safe.” You cup her cheek, brushing away a few tears as you do so. “You did everything you could’ve for your friends back then too.” 

“I couldn’t save them.” She croaks. “I couldn’t save you.” 

You crowd her space, nudging her nose with your own. “Hey, you know you did, right? You saw the signs. You knew to take shelter, where to hide. You did save me. The part that matters isn’t that you could’ve failed but that you didn’t.”

Kate’s forehead meets your own, her hand finding your fingers. “I- Please don’t leave.” She whispers. “Please don’t leave me.”

You feel breathless at her request, at the desperation in her tone. Your eyes meet Tyler’s. 

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whisper back. “I’m here Kate. We’re here.”

[freshlyrage]

Running Like Water

Chapter 27

what's playing: I'm Not in Love by 10cc

pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)

fic warnings: NSFW Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI) language, strained family relationships, mentions of drug abuse, discussions of insecurities and body image issues, daddy and mommy issues

fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon

word count: 4k

IMPORTANT a/n: Can you tell I'm out of a 5 month long depressive episode? LOL. Feeling motivative and creative. See you soon. Ask me questions!

December 1989

“So you don’t want to have sex anymore?” 

You pull your skirt up your legs, zipping it and spinning it back in place. You shoot a glance over your shoulder at the man nude on his headboard-less bed with a face of disgust. “No. I’m okay with having sex, I’m just like not looking to make you breakfast and prance around your living room in your shirts or whatever.” You shrug, pulling on your blouse and tiptoeing to your kitten heels. 

He scoffs, “That's what all women say, they usually mean the complete opposite. I’m not stupid Andrea.” 

You giggle, “I am not all women. I’m just not interested in a relationship, we both made that clear when we started fucking.” Back in October when he placed his large hand on the open belly of your cowgirl costume and it was the right amount of warmth at the right time. Your co-worker Jaya shot you a thumbs up from across the club and you stumbled out onto the brisk streets of Soho. “You never seemed to be interested in me being your girlfriend until this conversation.”

Christian stands to his feet, nude and you’re getting that clarity you get after having sex with a man that isn’t–well. You scurry towards your discarded coat on his lazy boy. You have got to stop fucking men in finance, their homes are like poorly decorated castles. Maybe he does need a damn girlfriend. “You fucking city girls and your backwards ways of thinking. You’ll never have the life you want with this attitude.”

You shoot him a glance and cackle loudly. “Please, I lived in Texas most of my life there is no city girl in me. I am just a girl who knows what she wants, you’ll find us anywhere you go.” You sling your purse over your shoulder, you know your toes are going to freeze off on your way to the subway. You’re not fully acclimated to the bitter cold of New York City yet but you make it work.

You made the move abruptly after learning they were cutting the pay of non-tenured teachers fifteen percent. The second you found out your colleague Jaya Sandros was taking a recertification exam to teach in New York City, you packed up your birds and made the big move. Of course your mother cried on the phone asking if it was her coldness that made you seek the cold elsewhere but truthfully it had nothing to do with her. You were nearly over being angry with your mother, you knew that she was only growing older and you might die if you continued to be so angry and sad all the time. 

You also knew that the decision to move to New Orleans was a Javier-adjacent decision which is what you called those things these days. A decision made because it reminded you of him. And although you weren't truly over him you decided that it was time to strip yourselves of things that reminded you of the past. 

When the cold approached you the very first time just a month ago you sat on your couch with your birds in tears. You wanted to call him so badly this thanksgiving. You wanted to tell him that you forgive him, that you aren’t angry anymore, that you understand the betrayal he’s gone through. Thank god for your therapist. You knew he probably won't be celebrating Thanksgiving in Colombia but you hoped he ate something good, you hoped he wasn’t alone like you were. 

Although you weren’t as alone as you were in New Orleans.

Life was more vibrant in New York. You had a solid group of friends, a night life, a work life and a sex life. You smiled nearly everyday, hosted wine nights and got your nails done. 

“You don’t know what you want Andrea. You told me the second time we had sex that this is your fourth state in 6 years!”

You look at him once more and fight the urge to laugh again. “Bye Chris. Lose my number.” You say as you slam the door behind you and wobble down the steps of his brownstone. 

“So you broke up?” Jaya leans over the break room table with her Best Teacher Ever mug. She taught Chemistry three periods a day, Environmental twice and tutored earth science on the weekends. 

“I guess? I mean he was never my boyfriend. The sex was mediocre but you know I got what I wanted. When did men become such softies?” 

Jaya giggles, “The eighties are coming to an end. Maybe we’ve got to start dating older.” The two of you laugh and clink your mugs. Forty more minutes of peace before your ninth grade US History course, those kids were rowdy. 

“Maybe, ugh– he did that thing when he ate me out. Like he’d look up at me and be like, is this good? Just ew.” You cringe, shaking your head. Jaya does just the same. 

“Like god we’re pushing thirty, if you have to ask me if your head is good just kill me.” She places her mug down and reaches in her bag for another packet of sugar. You shoot her a glance, and she flips you off. She might be the biggest sugar addict you know. Every night out ends with her dragging you to the twenty-four hour bakery around the block from your house. “My ex was absolutely terrible at it. He was thirty. My boyfriend now though… It’s like he was put on this earth for it.”

You nod and you can't help it. “Javier was the same. Amazing at it, and he’d never complain. Unfortunately he was good at everything, sometimes I’d be like, Who the fuck taught you all of this. Then I’d get jealous because it was all from years of practice. Stupid.” Eyes glancing at your lap. Even if he’s over you and is okay with never seeing you again, you would pathetically still ask for just one more night. Jaya knew all the details, in some ways she was your best friend–well, she is your best friend. You spend every weekend together if she isn’t taking the metro-north to see her short-distance boyfriend who lives in Yonkers. She understands and doesn’t make you feel bad when you talk about him because she does just the same. Her shitty ex boyfriend Henry Donovan was the topic of discussion all the time. You couldn’t believe she stayed with that freak for seven years. Fuck it, you lean over in a whisper. “One night like 3 months ago, I was so horny I almost called him. Like just wanted to call and be like, hey, I know we left on the worst terms ever but let me hear your voice so I can touch myself. I was that desperate.” 

Jaya’s eyes widened and her grin grew ear to ear. The two of you had gotten so close nearly no dirty confession was off the table. “That's so hot. Do you think he’d do it?” 

You smirk, “Yeah probably. I mean I don’t think he would be able to resist. Even if he moved on or whatever-”

“He hasn’t but continued. No man would be able to.”

You roll your eyes, “I’m not like some sex goddess-” Jaya makes a loud buzzer noise. “But! He worshiped me, in more ways than one so…” You voice fades and your head goes to that place that makes your stomach pit and ruins your day. When you realize he isn’t waiting for you, when you realize he’s so far. When you realize how deeply he was hurt by Lorraine. How his decision to never see you again hurt you. “Yeah, it was always good.”

Jaya allowed for some silence. Nodding and sipping her coffee. “Well, maybe it was so good because you two loved each other so much. Randy and I tried anal last month and it was great! He was so caring and gentle and-”

“What!?” Your eyes popped and Jaya waved a hand in your face. 

“Oh please don’t act like you’ve never tried it. Hearing your sex stories with Javier–”

“Lower your voice, I mean once he ate me–”

“See!” She whisper yelled. “All young modern metropolitan women try anal.” 

Your face turned bright red and your face dropped to your hands in a giggle.

Summer 1986

When Javier left your room the next morning you decided you needed a break from being yourself. You sat at the headboard of your bed and attempted to console yourself the way you did as a child. You missed him already, missed the way he held your head when you were sad. You even rubbed the bee earrings in your ear a few times, cried more and shut your eyes. 

You have to go away. Be alone, move somewhere far. You wouldn’t be able to bear encountering him in town once in a while, you couldn’t. Despite the sadistic mentality you’ve developed with your own mind and body, you couldn’t do that.

 It was 3 pm when you finally left your room. Eyes swollen from the tears you let out once he snuck away. You make your presence known with dragging feet. Your baby sister in her play pen, gnawing at her fist with puff snacks. Your mother was at her designated chair at the counter. Taking notes in her blue little financing book, preformative glasses low on her bridge. She takes one look at you and tenses with a frown. You see it then, in her eyes. Her urge to ask you a question you don’t want to answer. You decided that maybe you should never speak to anyone ever again.

 “Why did Javier leave your room this morning?” She places her pen down with a click. You don’t feel the stomach turning anxiety you would have once felt at a question like this. None of it mattered anymore. So you shrugged and opened the fridge.

“Javier was my boyfriend. We broke up last night.” You deadpan, silencing the room. There goes your big moment. All the hiding and whispers, maybe this was the only way to tell her. You served yourself a bowl of cereal. You look back at your mother and her lips were drawn in a small line, her eyes concerned. 

“But he’s getting married to Lorraine…”

You almost want to laugh, of course. “So you knew, nice.” You open the cabinet taking a spoon and pull out the stool with a tug of your socked foot, sitting across from her.

“I-Mrs. Smithfield called me with the news yesterday, she asked if she could use the things I bought for Frankies wedding. Did Javier cheat on you–?”

Spoon swirling the milk turned pink. You really couldn’t believe you were having this conversation. You couldnt believe your mother was planning your ex-boyfriend's wedding. You can’t believe it's over. You couldn’t believe you were cried out. You never want to see him again, you couldn't do that to yourself. “No. She’s apparently been pregnant since before we started dating so… I don’t really want to explain myself any more. I’m going to take some time alone for a while. I’ll be moving out by the way, so don’t worry about that anymore.”

Your mother frowned, “You know, I didn’t really mean it when I asked you to leave. I was just so angry with the fact that you wanted to see your father.”

You felt like an exposed nerve, like screaming and shattering your bowl. Feeling the urge to regress to your habits you formed once Javier left you the first time. Your mother, your most sensitive trigger, pushing your buttons. You hold your breath, counting to ten before you speak. “I want access to my trust. I’m leaving Texas, I want to start over.”

“Are you sure?”

You nod, “Yes. I’ll go to the wedding, I know you're wondering. But after that I want to be on the road.” You know you have to be there. You have to see it happen, maybe it’ll force you to move on. You always found strange ways of harming yourself. Being destructive in your own little way. Suddenly you aren’t hungry anymore. You stand from the stool, giving your mother one last glance. “I’ll be in the room if you need me.”

You rarely leave the place for four days. You hear people come in and out of the house. 

On Tuesday you swear you hear Mr. Smithfield’s voice. You know it’s him because once you look out your window you see your mother holding table cloth and folding chairs.  You lay back in bed and try to sleep.

By wednesday no one had come to visit you. It's not like you had many people but Javi. You wonder if he has touched her belly yet, if he’ll rub those creams on it so that she doesn’t stretch. If his eyes will go tender whispering to his little baby. If that love he feels for his baby will turn into real love for Lorraine herself. Doing the most selfless act of motherhood. 

Thursday your bedroom door is opened by Genie. It’s like 1980 all over again. This time she’s in a loose dress, her belly barely visible in the material. She tiptoes over your piles of clothes you’ve folded in preparation to leave. Just six days before she was sitting on your bed waiting to become your sister in law. Now she approaches you slowly like you're made of glass. You smile upon her arrival but she can’t seem to give you one back. She crosses her arms and scans the room. Seeing that you have picked apart the place to head on the road.

“So you’re leaving?” She sounds cold and you shrug. 

“Yes.”

“Have you considered me or your brother in this decision?” She’s upset with you. You were upset with everything so you suppose you’re even. 

“I can’t be here anymore.”

Genie sighs, “I would like to have heard it from you and not a frantic visit from your mother. Which by the way was very off guard, we were having sex when she came pounding on the door.” 

You snicker, fidgeting with the loose thread at the hem of your sleep shorts. “I was going to visit the two of you. I just didn’t– I don’t have it in me to tell Frankie. To make him hate me or-or hate Javier. I just wanted to be alone for a bit.”

“Well he knows now! He isn’t even mad, he’s just sad for the both of you. He’s really sad for you Andrea. He loves you so much.”

Your eyes dropped to your lap and your chin began to quiver because strangely you miss him too. “He’s not mad that we lied to him?”

“No. He isn’t. He knows he was a hard ass about you and Javi. He knew he wuld have to get over it eventually but he didn’t want this to the be the circumstances. He wasn’t even given the opportunity to be all protective.” She shrugs, sitting down on your bed. Her hand covers yours, forcing you to quit fidgeting. “He also really dislikes Lorraine so he was more preoccupied that she’ll be around us forever.”

You laugh through tears this time. Your brother always made a face when she was mentioned. Especially when Genie suggested that she be invited to the wedding. 

She cheated on my absolute stud of a best friend. I’ll never like that girl. 

You sigh and lean your head against Genie. For a while the two of you are nothing but two sisters missing each other before you’re gone. Sharing years together, growing up and moving on was a part of it all. You know she isn’t angry, you know she loves you too much to watch you go, again. 

“I think the universe has been telling me and Javier to not be together for a long time but we have been too stubborn to care.”

She sucks her teeth and you feel her head shake. “Nah. I just think the time has always been wrong. The circumstances too. If this whole pregnancy thing didn’t happen he’d still be on a plane in a few months to a whole other country. You’d be left just as broken.”

“We had a plan.”

“Did you?”

You exhale audibly, “No–not really.” 

“I don’t know…you’ll find each other somehow. Maybe she’ll cheat on the man again.” She jokes and you giggle alongside her. This was all fucked and all you could do is laugh. “I’m sorry for seeming so angry when I came in. You deserve to be on your own, find yourself out of this fucking town.”

“I’ll visit. I’ll be back for the labor, trust me.”

“Yeah bitch you better!”

“I’ll be there anytime you need me.”

“Pfft, unless you move to like fucking New York.”

“Oh god never. Don’t think I can keep up. I was thinking about Louisiana. Far enough to know no one, close enough to drive if needed.” 

“Good, that would be great for you. When do you think you’re leaving?”

“After the wedding, like maybe the next day.”

“Why not before, say fuck it and just rip the bandaid.”

You frown, “Well I’m going to the wedding obviously.”

Genie completely parts her body from your own and stares at you all confused.

“Why in the world would you go watch your ex boyfriend get married?”

You sit up straight, your eyes darting to the picture on New Year’s 1980.

 “Because everyone will be there, because he’s my best friend, because maybe if I see it, it'll be real.”

“Oh, hello.” Javier moves out of the way of his front door and allows Lorraine in. She rubs her stomach and walks straight to his bedroom. Javier furrows his brows and looks around the house in confusion before following her. “Is everything okay?”

 His air conditioning is blasting and she exhales. Ripping off her shoes and laying in his bed and it all feels so wrong. He only spoke to her a few times over the phone since the day he found out. The conversations mostly contained plans of what their lives would look like. He had nodded off and agreed to it all because truly he wasn’t sure if he was in his own body. He agreed to asking for a family extension until after she gave birth. So that it gave her more time to be supported with their child before he leaves for Colombia. He agreed to look at rentals in the area. He agreed and agreed. 

He felt like himself a few nights ago when he told Chucho that it was you that he had been seeing. His father frowned so deeply Javier feared this would be the first time ever he would raise a hand to him. If he had he wouldn’t fight it, he would have asked for more. Maybe then he’ll feel truly punished for it all. Instead Don Chucho dropped his head. That was when he told him that he spoke to Melissa and she said you were leaving- moving away. That's when Javier felt like himself again. Chucho rubbed his back while he cried into the crook of his arm. 

Nothing could change his reality. So there she was, his ex-girlfriend, soon to be wife, in his bed. “The air isn’t working in my room. And I weirdly feel so… pregnant. I’m so glad I’ll be further along when it’s cooler out. God, my back hurts.”

Javier stood at the door, unsure on how to be–any help at all. “When will it be fixed?”

She throws her arm over her forehead and exhales. “Huh. Monday probably, could I stay here? It just isn’t good-”

“For the baby. Yeah of course. Do you need anything or-”

“Will you come here?” She lifts her arm to look at him. He obeys despite all of it feeling wrong. Javier sits at the foot of the bed. “Are you nervous?”

He furrows his brow and tilts his head, before realizing what she’s asking. “I’m just trying to catch up with my brain. I’m doubting that we will be good parents, I mean I know that you’ll be a great mother, and maybe I can be a good father but me and you…we’re explosive and incompatible. We never worked, I’m afraid all of this would be damaging for the-our baby.”

Javier is himself for that moment.

She sighs and flips her body over and away from him. Obviously annoyed with him being reasonable. There's some silence and then sniffling. Javier’s brows shoot up, his chest hurting. What man is immune to a woman's tears?

“Sorry. I’m just hormonal. Conversations like this just stress me and the baby out.”

He feels a panic climb up his throat and there he is at her aid. Afraid to hurt someone so delicate, he’s done enough of that. He rubs her back in slow motions while she cries and he’s feeling a guilt that's all consuming. “Hey… I’m sorry. I don't want to stress the two of you out. Let's… be angry at me tomorrow.”

She nods, wiping her tears. 

“Can we get a slurpee? It’ll make me feel better.” She whines and Javier feels like a dick for being a bit annoyed. Shouldn’t fathers feel more sincere, biologically? He can't seem to find the connection yet but he just blames it on the circumstance. 

But he nods against her shoulder anyway and they head to the grocery store in an act too domestic to swallow just yet.

In the hours you spent walking around town to get some sort of fresh air your walkman became ridiculously handy. The Original Soundtrack by 10cc was your choice this time. In a tank top and shorts like always you made your way through town with very few hellos from locals, it almost feels like they all knew you were depressed. You decided you needed air after Genie left. The two of you stayed talking until she jumped to her feet realizing she had an appointment in her salon at 4:30 and it was 4. You accepted her apologies and hugged. 

You found yourself slipping on your sneakers at 6 pm, when the sun was still high yet threatening to set. You wanted to be outside when it did. Sit somewhere and just listen to the bullfrogs and flies. Appreciate the sounds of home a few more times. You let your hair down just because around this time there's the slightest imitation of a breeze.

You walk down the hill, passing the small path that leads to your lake. Set sights on the bench you and Frankie ate ice cream at. Ice Cream from the shop that Genie’s family ran. You almost wish you took your bike with you but when you were reminded of its existence it was too late to go back. You stopped in at your mother's boutique, knowing she was home today. Greeting the seventeen year old girl who managed the place on Thursday nights. 

Right when a drop of sweat trickled low on your back you decided to make a left at the end of mainstreet and trek the sidewalk-less road that led to the only 7/11 in a 20 mile radius. It was bigger than most 7/11’s you’ve been to. Acted as a grocery store for a lot of truckers that found themselves in Laredo.  With your music on blast, you barely hear the bell chimes when you walk in.

I’m Not In Love by 10cc crowding your ears while you wave at the cashier. Slowly walking down each aisle, figuring whether you had a sweet tooth or could do for some lays chips. You shift your weight from foot to foot, along with the song. Finding freedom and peace in solitude. You decide on a kit-kat bar. You grab the share size and walk out to the freezers, opening the door just to feel some cool air for a second. You shut your eyes for a moment before grabbing a water.

As you close the door your view is clear. Lorraine and Javier walking toward the slurpee machine, his hand on her lower back. It drops when she begins to make her own drink with her back facing you. He turns, scratching the back of his neck and if you just move he will never see you. But he looks so different, sullen and tired.

And you can’t help but stare. 

His eyes finally meet yours and both of yours simultaneously widen and furrow. His furrowing and yours widening. Being caught. He looks at you tenderly, like he’s urging to take a step forward, urging to say hello. 

Your eyes cast to the floor and you pretend you have not seen him at all.

[lemoncrushh]

Too Far From Texas | Chapter Twenty-Seven

STORY PAGE

Word Count: 6987

Harry stared at me, waiting for me to continue. I sat there with my mouth open, unable to speak.

“Baby...please?” He took my hands and rubbed the backs of them with his thumbs, but his eyes never left mine.

“I’m scared, Harry,” I finally admitted.

“About what?”

“That if...if I tell you the truth...how I really feel...you won’t want me anymore.”

“How could I not want you, Stacey? I mean, unless you’re gonna tell me you don’t love me-”

“No,” I shook my head. “No, I love you. I most certainly love you, Harry.”

“Then what is it, baby? Please, don’t be scared with me. Whatever it is, we can work through it together.”

I looked down at our joined hands and felt a tear drop from my eye. I felt another coming and went to wipe it, but Harry held onto me, so the tear fell on my arm. When the third dropped however, Harry let go of one of my hands and wiped my cheek with his thumb.

“Talk to me,” he urged again, his green eyes so sincere.

“I guess I...I didn’t exactly realize how we were living in a bubble until it burst.”

Harry blinked, trying to understand my words. “You mean after the paps and the press got word of you?”

“Not just that,” I shrugged. “Although that’s part of it.”

“I tried to explain, love, that’s part of who I am. It’s not going away as long as I’m...doing what I’m doing.”

“Yes, and I understand that,” I sniffled with a nod. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. It might take some getting used to, but I think I could handle it.”

“Then...I don’t get it. What’s the matter?”

I felt the tears threatening to fall again, but I blinked several times and swallowed them back. With a shaky breath, I continued.

“Do you like kids, Harry?”

Harry raised his brows. “What?”

“I mean...I know I’ve seen photos of you with kids. Some younger fans, friends’ babies. You’ve met mine and were really sweet to them. But...do you really truly like kids?”

Harry shifted his gaze away from me, then gave an incredulous nod and shrug. “Yeah. I do. Kids are great. But what does that have to do with anything?”

“I have kids, Harry. I have two. And they are everything to me.”

“Of course they are,” he agreed. “They’re wonderful, and you’re a wonderful mum.”

Letting a deep breath out through my nose, I hesitated. “I’m afraid I wasn’t completely honest before.”

“When?” asked Harry.

“When I had that heart-to-heart talk with your mother.”

Harry frowned. “The baggage comment? She told me she apologized, that she hadn’t meant it the way you took it.”

“I know,” I nodded. “At first, I was hurt by the comment. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized she was right.”

“Stacey…” he said, reaching for me, but I resisted.

“Please. Hear me out. You wanted me to talk.”

With a sigh, Harry sat back in his chair, his expression different from when we’d started the conversation. He looked worried, but also a bit perturbed.

“I agree, maybe the baggage comment was a bad choice of words,” I continued. “But what she told me later made a lot of sense to me. She mentioned how when you and your sister were young and she was single, it was important to find someone willing to accept the fact that she was a mother. My kids and me, we’re a package deal, Harry.”

“I get that,” he held out his arms as though to show defeat.

“As far as that bubble goes,” I said, “I was happy floating along in it with you. If I’m being honest, I wasn’t really worrying about my kids. That sounds shitty hearing it out loud, but it’s true. It’s not that I didn’t care, but I was being selfish. Now…”

I hesitated, trying to find the right words. Harry fidgeted in his seat.

“Now?” he asked.

“Now that the bubble has burst, I’m scared. Like I said, it’s not just you and me anymore. And it’s not just the paparazzi or Jeff or your band or any of your friends. My kids are my life, and you are my life. But I don’t know if…”

I trailed off again when I felt my body tremble. I started to sob, my shoulders shaking. I held my face in my hands, unable to look at Harry. I was afraid of his reaction. I couldn’t face him if he decided he didn’t want me anymore.

“Baby…” I heard him say. He’d leaned forward again and was rubbing my arms. “You don’t know if, what?”

“If…” I sniffed. “If I can do this. I don’t even know if...you want that part of me. I feel like...like I have two lives and…”

“Hey…” he cooed, pulling me by my waist. “C’mere.”

He pulled me onto his lap and rubbed my back, looking up at me with those sincere eyes again. Reaching behind him on the desk, he grabbed the tissue box and handed it to me. I mumbled a thanks as I took a tissue and blew my nose.

“Baby,” he said again. “You shouldn’t have to feel like you’re living two lives. I don’t want that.”

Sniffling, I kept my head down as he kissed the top of it, his arms around me making me feel safe.

“Then what do you want, Harry?” I asked quietly.

I heard him let out a short chortle before he said, “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” I replied, lifting my head with tear-stained cheeks.

“I want you. I want us.”

“On what terms?” I choked.

“What do you mean, Stacey? There are no terms.”

He appeared to be on the verge of anger now, his brows knitted and a huge scowl on his face. I felt a sourness in my stomach like I used to get when Tod was angry with me. His arms, however, remained around me and I was reminded once again he was nothing like my ex-husband.

“Remember what I told you?” he asked. “That I don’t have conditions?”

I nodded, my eyes on his chest.

“I mean that, a hundred percent. I have a crazy life; I know I do. But I also know I love you unconditionally. I’m in this for real. I want you. I want you in my life, and I wanna be in yours.”

I sighed, placing my hand on his chest and raising my gaze to his beautiful face, which had now returned to the look of sincerity, though his brows were still furrowed.

“You’re so young, Harry,” I commented.

He rolled his eyes. “Are we going back to that again? I thought we agreed, the age thing doesn’t-”

“But it does matter, Harry,” I interrupted. “It matters more than we wanted to admit. When we’re talking about our connection, our chemistry...no it doesn’t matter at all. We make perfect sense. But when we’re talking about real life…”

“This is real life, baby,” Harry insisted, his hands on my arms as his eyes burned into mine. “It’s not the ideal life perhaps, but it’s ours.”

I pursed my lips and nodded again. He just didn’t understand, and I wasn’t sure he was going to. I didn’t want to fight. And I knew that if I said what I really wanted to - what was really in my head, I’d start one. One thing I hated was when I was the reason for a quarrel. My personality made me always want to have my say, to be heard before trying to resolve a situation. But sometimes it was easier to just let it go. I’d learned that in my marriage, or perhaps in spite of it.

“I guess I’m just scared,” I repeated. It was the truth. I was scared of so much, it made me sick to my stomach.

“I know, my love,” he said softly with a sigh as he petted my hair. “But I’m here. I love you. And I believe in us. Don’t you?”

Biting my lip, I ran my hands up to his neck and pulled him closer.

“Yes,” I whispered against his mouth before placing a kiss upon it.

I wanted to believe. And because Harry believed, I felt like I should too. It broke my heart to think otherwise. So, it wasn’t really a lie, I told myself. Not really.

���Wow!” Harry whistled when I descended the stairs.

While I was finishing my hair and makeup, Harry had gotten a phone call, so he’d told me he’d meet me downstairs.

“You look delicious,” he added as I stepped up to him in the living room.

I beamed. “You said that last time.”

“Did I?” he smirked, wounding his arms around my waist, his gaze on my lips. “Can’t help if my girlfriend looks better than dessert.”

I got tingles from the sound of him saying girlfriend. It still felt new, or perhaps renew, because others were now aware of me. But I quickly came up with a witty reply to his comment.

“Good, because I might have to skip dessert if I want to fit into this dress all night.”

“All night?” Harry quipped. “I sincerely hope you don’t.”

I giggled, pinching his bicep. “You’re naughty.”

He countered with a pinch of his own on my ass. I sniffed his intoxicating cologne and told him he looked delicious too before he grabbed his keys, and we left for adventure number two.

I tried my best not to have the car ride be too filled with awkward silence. Despite my uneasiness about our previous conversation, I was determined to have a good time. I would be leaving in the morning, and I didn’t want to fly home to Texas with a heavy heart.

Harry smiled at me and asked if I wanted to choose the music. Scrolling through his phone, I found a playlist titled Dinner.

“What’s this for?” I questioned.

“What do you think?” he quirked a brow.

“Well, either it’s for dinner parties or you’ve listened to it in the car while taking other women to fancy restaurants.”

Harry let out a loud guffaw. “Or perhaps I just made it ten minutes ago.”

I glared at him before opening the playlist to see the tracks included. It was all music I liked, some of the songs I’d introduced him to like Melody Gardot, some Stevie, Adele, the beautiful songs we’d danced to on the yacht in New York, even some of his own work. All of it was on the mellow side, perfect for a romantic car ride to a romantic dinner.

I threaded my fingers through his and sat back as the music began to play through the speakers. The Buble tune was just about over when Harry turned a corner and pulled up into a circular drive, in front of a stunning building. From first glance it looked like a fancy hotel, but when we stopped and the valet walked around to Harry’s side, I soon realized it was a restaurant.

“Holy crap,” I muttered under my breath as I climbed out of the car and looked up at the building which seemed to shimmer, though I wasn’t sure how.

“What was that, love?” Harry asked with a grin when he met me on my side and reached for my hand.

“Uh...just thinking it’s a good thing I went with the blue dress,” I replied.

Most likely sensing the hesitation in my tone (Harry was good at that), he released my hand and placed his on the small of my back, leaning in to whisper in my ear.

“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen.”

I looked up at him then, his eyes dancing, and I immediately felt myself relax. With a light push of his hand, I stepped forward and smiled at the door man who greeted us before we walked into a large lobby. Again, I was reminded of a hotel, or perhaps a concert hall, complete with a staircase in the back. A second man greeted us, recognizing Harry and he pointed us to a room to the left. We were seated quickly at a table near the back and to the right. And just like clockwork, a third man switched places with the second and took our drink order.

“Wow, that was fast!” I exclaimed in awe.

Harry shrugged with a smirk. I knew he recognized it to be one of the perks of being...well, him. Never in my life had I been seated at a restaurant so quickly, let alone given the best table in the joint.

I gazed around the room the best I could, without appearing obvious. It was a gorgeous place. The tables were adorned with candles, and there was an overall candlelight-type glow in the room, yet it didn’t seem so dark I couldn’t read the menu. Something to do with the lighting, I supposed.

I perused the menu, choosing a couple things that sounded appetizing to me, but then wondered if I should just get whatever Harry was getting. I quickly laughed at myself though, dismissing the idea because it wasn’t like it was our first date, or even our first meal together. I was letting my nerves get the better of me.

“What sounds good to you?”

Lifting my eyes from the menu, I saw Harry leaning forward. I almost caught a lump in my throat. His face glowed in the candlelight, his eyes a sparkling green, his lips red as cherries. He was definitely the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen.

“Um…” I took a breath and gazed down at the list again just as the waiter returned with our cocktails.

“Are we ready to order?” he sang, his hands behind his back. I noticed he had nothing to write with or on, and I had to hold back a laugh as I recalled a stand-up bit with Ellen Degeneres about that very thing.

“Pardon me!” I coughed, taking a sip of water. I eyed Harry over my glass who came to my aid, bless his heart.

“I think we’ll both have the salmon and the mango salad,” he told the waiter.

“Ah, very good,” he bounced on his heels, took our menus and left with a smile.

“Thank you,” I said after I’d managed to get the cough subsided, but not my embarrassment.

Harry chuckled. “You okay?”

“Yes,” I waved my hand away. “Just got tickled.”

“Someone under your dress?” he quirked a brow. “Under the table?”

I laughed harder when he pretended to search for the culprit underneath the table.

“I’ve heard of ants in your pants, but…”

Suddenly, I reached over and grabbed his wrist. “Stop! I can’t breathe!”

Harry laughed with me then, seeing as he’d made me feel at ease once again. I hastily wiped the moisture from underneath my eyes before taking a few sips of my gin and tonic. He watched me with a grin as he lifted his own glass, taking a slow sip of tequila. Then he just as gradually lowered the glass, his eyes still on me.

“I love you,” he declared plainly.

I almost wished I had a tape recorder, or my phone out so I could have snapped a video of him saying it. Not that I didn’t believe it, mind you. Just the opposite in fact. I believed him with all my heart and soul. I just wished I could have captured that moment in time to hold on to forever.

“I love you, too,” I smiled.

The waiter came by again as soon as my glass had emptied with a fresh refill, even though I hadn’t ordered one. Halfway through it, however, I could tell it was already having an effect on me, so I excused myself to the ladies' room.

As I made my way back to the table, I rush came over me. As I unobtrusively scanned the room, other than a couple people who smiled, I made hardly any eye contact. No one was gawking at me, as if to wonder who the redhead having dinner with Harry Styles was. I realized then that I had been unknowingly afraid they would. Once again, I scolded myself for being so paranoid.

My dinner had arrived by the time I sat down, as had a third gin and tonic, despite the fact that I hadn’t finished the second.

“Is the waiter trying to get me drunk, or is that you?” I joked, lifting my half empty glass.

“Well, the intention was mine,” remarked Harry, raising his tequila, “but I reckon he’s helping.”

We clinked glasses as I giggled, clearly already reaping the benefits of the alcohol. Although I wasn’t looking forward to making multiple trips to the bathroom, I felt good.

Dinner was divine, both the food and the company. Harry and I continued to tease each other, both above and under the table. I had just finished my last bite of salad and was almost through my third cocktail when I noticed Harry looking just past me, his eyes focus on something over my shoulder.

“Something wrong?” I asked him, not daring to turn my head to see for myself.

He exhaled and shook his head. “No, it’s fine. Just someone with their phone out, and I can tell they’re taking pictures.”

“Oh no,” I muttered. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s always bound to happen,” Harry remarked. “I’m used to it, honestly. It would just be nice to have complete privacy for once. Just a meal to ourselves.”

I blushed at the sound of “our”, meaning he included me. It was a small thing, but it meant more to me.

“Well, we are still in public,” I commented, “even if it is an upscale restaurant.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly with his jaw set. Then he shifted his gaze back to me. “No worries. Do you want dessert?”

“Not unless you want this dress to pop off right here at this table,” I quipped.

Harry laughed, and I smiled, happy that I’d lightened the mood.

“I actually wouldn’t mind that one bit,” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“God, you’re so...what’s the word? Cheeky?”

With a smirk, that was indeed cheeky, he leaned forward. “I believe the word you’re looking for is horny.”

My face flushed as I giggled again and covered my eyes with my hand. “That too.”

I’d expected Harry to take me home after dinner, especially after that horny remark. And the way his fingertips played on my back when I rose from my chair gave me another hint. But when he led me out of the restaurant and we made it back to the large lobby area, he turned to the left and pulled me toward the massive staircase.

“Where are we going?” I asked as we climbed the steps.

“You’ll see,” he said nonchalantly. “Something I thought you might like.”

At the top of the stairs, Harry guided me through another set of doors and into a large room. I gasped when I realized what it was. Several tables were scattered throughout the room where couples and groups sipped on wine and cocktails. Along the left wall was a long bar, and in the back was a stage where a complete jazz band played. In the center was a dancefloor, more couples swaying to the old standard I recognized.

“They still have places like this?” was my immediate reaction. I had dreamed of being taken dancing at a ballroom, the scene vivid in my mind from watching so many old movies and episodes of The Golden Girls.

I felt Harry shake with a chuckle beside me as he held my hand and gave it a squeeze. The band finished the song they were playing and everyone clapped. Letting go of Harry’s hand, I applauded as well. Then just as they began the next song, Harry leaned over with his hand on my back again and whispered in my ear.

“May I have this dance?”

I realized then that his other hand was held out in front of me, awaiting mine when I accepted, which of course I did. Following him to the dancefloor, I slid my left hand up his arm and let him lead me. Despite seeing this scene unfold in many a late-night movie, I felt somewhat awkward at first, not sure how to move my feet. But Harry swiftly took the reins, pulling me to him and swaying like a tall tree in the breeze. The singer sang low, his deep voice warm like honey as he seemed to be singing just for us, the bass plucking just at the right points, the brass instruments whining to accentuate the emotions rolling through my brain and down my body.

Turning me slightly, I took a gander around the room before my eyes locked with Harry’s. He seemed to be watching me intently, waiting for my words, or perhaps trying to read them on my face.

“This is a wonderful surprise,” I finally said.

His mouth twitched as he began to smile. “I knew you’d like it. Reckoned it was better than going to a nightclub.”

I smiled. “Well, that would’ve been fun, too. But a lot more crowded.”

“No, I prefer this,” Harry commented.

“It’s very romantic,” I agreed.

“Didn’t know I had it in me, did you?” he quipped.

“No, I did.”

Harry’s eyes sparkled as he looked at me. His hand brushing my back as he held me close, I could tell he wanted to kiss me but was hesitant. We were still in public after all, and regardless of how open he wanted to be about our relationship, I suspected he was still cautious of who benefitted from getting the goods. However, we were in a half-empty ballroom, and my guess was that everyone in it was even older than I was.

The band stopped then, and Harry released me as we clapped. When they announced they would be taking five, we made our way to the bar.

As Harry handed me my gin and tonic, I made a mental note that it was cocktail number four of the evening. If we kept this up, I was going to have to pace myself if I planned to make it to the car without wobbly knees, or worse, Harry having to carry me with a sick bucket.

We sat at the bar while we nursed our drinks. I felt Harry glide his hand down my thigh to my knee, pushing up the hem of my dress. He rested his hand there, just above my knee while his fingers continued to play on my skin. I watched him as he lifted his glass to his plump lips, taking a generous sip, the rings on his fingers glistening in the candlelight. I was sure it was partially due to the effects of the alcohol, but I found every single thing about him incredibly sexy. Every movement. Every touch. I wanted him to take me home, but at the same time I was enjoying our evening out along with the anticipation.

Harry continued to flirt with me, making me laugh as well as the bartender who had begun to refer to him as “son”. When the band started up again, he lead me back to the dancefloor.

“You know what this makes me think of?” I mused, my fingers tangling in his curls that brushed his shoulders.

“Hmm?” he sounded, his eyelids heavy.

“Italy,” I replied. “Rome or Venice, some romantic film from the forties where the couples dance all night.”

“Does the man take the woman home after and ravage her?”

“They didn’t have smut in forties movies!” I scoffed. “It was only implied. It had to be classy.”

Harry chuckled, the lowered his head to nuzzle my neck, lightly brushing his lips across it.

“Anyway, I just always wanted to go there,” I said with a sigh.

“Mmm, we should go sometime,” he whispered in my ear.

“Italy in the forties?” I teased, knowing what he meant.

“No, now. Well...not right now...but…” he looked me in the eye then, “maybe after I get back from tour. We could take a holiday to Rome or Venice.”

My legs began to feel like butter at the sound of his voice and his words. Quickly, however, I was brought back to reality.

“Next trip I take will have to be with Jaz and Em,” I remarked. “I worry that I’ve spent too much time away from them as it is. And I promised them Disney World forever ago.”

“That sounds fun, too,” Harry grinned.

I must have given him a look then that made him question.

“What? I like Jaz and Em. And I certainly like Disney.”

With another sigh, I looked down at his chest and back up. “Harry…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really prepared for that?”

“Prepare for what?” he asked incredulously.

“For...Disney World. For taking your girlfriend and her kids on vacation. For being part of that kind of life.”

Harry stared at me for a moment, seeming to conjure up the right words for his response. Truth was, I shouldn’t have asked him. I shouldn’t have had to put him in that situation where he even had to think about it. He was so young. It wasn’t fair to him.

The band finished then, giving us both a narrow escape. As the room applauded, I put my hand on his arm.

“I’m going to the ladies' room,” I said.

“Stacey…” he began, but I shook my head.

“I’ll be right back.”

As soon as I was in the stall, I locked the door and leaned my head against it. I could feel the tears coming so I just let them fall as they may, my shoulders shaking.

I hated myself. I hated myself for wanting more, when there was nothing more to get. I’d been having the most wonderful night, my last night with Harry for a long time and I had to go and ruin it. All I wanted was to enjoy our time together before I had to leave. Why did I have to make a mess of it?

I loved him. I loved him so much my heart ached. I loved him so much I was making my own heart break. I was an idiot.

I heard the bathroom door open and a woman took the stall next to mine. Hastily, I wiped my tears and blew my nose. After relieving myself, I washed my hands in the sink and touched up my lipstick.

“Oh, my dear, you looked wonderful!” exclaimed the older woman who’d stepped out of her stall.

“Excuse me?”

“On the dancefloor,” she beamed as she turned on the faucet next to me. “You and that handsome young man with his arms around you.”

“Oh,” I smiled timidly. “Thank you.”

“I was telling my husband, Steven, that it’s nice to see the young couples come out to dance. We don’t see it as often as we used to.”

I grinned wider, quickly remembering Harold and Millicent in England.

“It’s a lot of fun,” I said. “And I enjoy the music.”

“Oh yes. Now, that was my parents’ music, you know. But I grew up listening to it myself. And nothing like a live band to dance to. It’s very romantic.”

“That’s exactly what I said,” I chuckled.

“What’s his name?” the woman asked me as she dried her hands, throwing me for a loop.

“Um...Harry,” I replied.

“Are you married?”

“No, I’m-”

“Oh, there’s time yet,” she giggled. “How long have you been together?”

I bit my lip and thought for a moment. “Not long.”

“Well…” she patted my shoulder, “not to hurry things along, but that Harry’s a keeper if I do say so myself. I was watching the way he looks at you.”

My cheeks blushed pink.

“Of course,” she added, “you did your share of looking at him, too.” Then she leaned forward and whispered, “And I don’t blame you one bit!”

I laughed again as she held the bathroom door open for me. We walked back to the ballroom together where she waved over her husband, Steven and introduced us. Catching his eye at the bar, I grinned at Harry who weaved through the tables to get to us.

“Harry, this is...oh, I’m sorry, I don’t believe I got your name,” I addressed the woman.

“Joanne!” she beamed. “And this is my husband, Steven!”

Harry graciously shook both of their hands before placing his on my back once again, like a magnet snapping into place. I realized then that it was a safe place. As long as we had physical contact, I felt okay.

“And what is your name, dear?” Joanne asked me.

“Stacey.”

“Well, Stacey and Harry,” she sang, taking a hand from each of us and joining them together inside her own, “I wish you nothing but happiness!”

“Thank you,” we said in unison.

Joanne turned to her beloved Steven and they gave one last wave before leaving the ballroom. Harry raised a brow and looked at me.

“We met in the ladies' room,” I shrugged.

“You seem to be in a better mood,” he commented. “What happened in there?”

I giggled. “Nothing. She was just friendly. She said we looked wonderful dancing together. Made me feel good.”

A smile spread across Harry’s face just as the band began to play “Stardust”. I put my hand over my heart and Harry held his out for me.

“Last dance?” he asked.

I nodded, taking his hand. Once on the dancefloor, I laid my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. I could feel his heartbeat underneath my palm as I placed it on his chest, my other arm around his neck. His hands tickled my back as he ran them up and down before deciding to rest them on my waist.

“Stacey,” I heard him murmur, “about earlier…”

“Shh,” I sounded. “Forget about it.”

“But see...baby, that’s our problem. We don’t finish our thoughts. We just let them go and forget about it until something comes up again. You asked me a question.”

“Harry…” I lifted my head.

“No, let me answer,” he insisted, his face stern.

I opened my mouth, but quickly shut it. “Okay.”

“Maybe…” he began, our bodies still swaying to the music, “maybe I’m not fully prepared. Not in the way you’re asking.”

I swallowed hard, looking back down at his chest.

“But I am prepared,” he added, lifting my chin with his finger, “to love you the best I can. And whatever that includes to prove to you that I do.”

“Harry,” I said, “I don’t want you to have to prove anything to me. I know you love me.”

“Then why do I sometimes feel like you doubt me?”

I let out a deep breath. “Oh, sugar, I don’t doubt you. I do believe you. It’s just...my crazy mind being stupid and I...seriously, let’s just forget it. At least for tonight. It’s not important. All that’s important is that we have this time together now.”

“Yeah?” he asked, returning his hands to my waist.

“Mmhm. And I don’t want tonight to end. I’m having the most wonderful time with you. You’re so amazing, I feel so in love. I-”

With a slight tilt of his head, Harry interrupted me with a kiss. It was soft at first, a light touch of his lips on mine. But he soon deepened it, our lips intertwined like puzzle pieces fitting perfectly. I felt my entire body ignite when his tongue entered my mouth, and I grabbed hold of his curls on the back of his neck. The song had probably changed by then, but I barely even noticed.

“We um...should probably…” he breathed when he released my lips.

I only nodded.

The car ride home was quiet sans for the music playing at a low volume. Harry’s hand had returned to my knee, tracing non-existent patterns while he drove with the other. I began to play with his fingers and rings, making him smile. I felt chills all over from both his touch and that sexy grin. Lifting his hand, I brought his first digit to my lips. I kissed it lightly at first, then gave it a sweet kitten-like lick before putting it in my mouth. When Harry chuckled low, I shifted in my seat, so I was facing him and did the same to the second finger.

“God, that’s hot,” he groaned.

I continued my finger seduction with each remaining digit. When I made it to his thumb, he cupped my chin.

“We’re almost home, baby,” he announced. “And I’m so hard. Let’s finish this in bed.”

My mouth watered at the idea of his erection, and part of me wanted to reach over to his lap and feel it for myself, but I kept my restraint and sat back in my seat. Besides, I didn’t want to make him drive off the road, though I did giggle to myself at the thought.

“What?” he asked with a smirk.

“Nothing,” I said, my tongue grazing my top lip.

“Now who’s being cheeky?”

“You mean horny?” I teased.

Harry was nearly biting through his bottom lip by the time we pulled into his garage. I hastily unbuckled my seatbelt and hopped out of the car, not waiting for him to fully turn it off. Meeting him at the door, I watched as he unlocked it. My first instinct was to race to the stairs, but then I remembered the full art of seduction is to take one’s time.

Backing into the kitchen as he turned on the light, I leaned against the counter to remove my shoes. Dangling them from my finger by the strap, I eyed Harry who took off his jacket and draped it across a chair. With hungry eyes, he came towards me and pulled me to him.

“Shall we go upstairs?” I inquired as he stared at me. I could tell he was good at this game too.

“Mmhmm,” he nodded, his gaze never leaving mine.

Neither of us made a move, for the stairs nor anywhere else. I was about to pry myself out of his grip and make a run for it when I came to my senses. As much as I loved the idea of a sexy cat and mouse game, this night was supposed to be special. I didn’t want to get emotional right then and start crying, but this could quite possibly be...my last night with Harry. I didn’t want to think that; that we’d never see each other again in this way. But I still didn’t know what the future was going to hold for us. I wanted this night to count.

“Make love to me, Harry,” I said.

He seemed to search my face for a moment, trying to read my eyes until he simply nodded and said, “Yes.”

He guided me to the stairs, turning out the lights on his way. I took his hand again as he led me to the bedroom. He walked around the bed and opened a drawer in the nightstand and pulled out a lighter. He lit the candle there, then came back around and lit the candle on the other side.

“Is that enough?” he asked as he flipped the light switch.

I nodded, reaching behind me for the zipper of my dress.

“No, let me,” he insisted.

His amazing hands wound around my waist before they reached the zipper and pulled it down. As my dress fell to my feet, Harry leaned down and kissed my shoulder, his lips sliding up slowly to my neck. My breath caught in my throat when his soft lips met my ear and his fingers found the fastener of my bra. Pushing the straps off my shoulders, Harry let it drop next to my dress.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he growled when his hands cupped my breasts, his thumbs grazing over my already erect nipples.

Up until then I was reveling in his touch, his eagerness to undress me. But now I was needing to touch his naked skin too.

Tugging on his shirt, I unbuttoned it with determination. Harry grinned at me when I’d finished, my hands quickly roaming up his tattooed torso. Shrugging out of the sleeves, he dropped the shirt on top of my dress.

“Why does it always seem like you have on way more clothes?” I quipped as I pulled on his belt.

“To torture you, obviously,” he smirked.

I chuckled lightly as I finally got his slacks unfastened and he stepped out of his shoes. Then to give me a hand, he removed his own pants while I shimmied out of my panties.

“C’mere, baby,” he beckoned, guiding me to the bed.

The candlelight bounced off the walls as we lay together, side by side. The smell of lavender and something else I couldn’t pinpoint relaxed me, filling my senses. Harry looked into my eyes as his fingers delicately grazed my back.

“I wanna make you feel how much I love you,” he declared. “I don’t want you to ever forget.”

He kissed me then, not waiting for my response which was just as well. I probably would have said something stupid. Rolling me onto my back, he kissed me harder and deeper. I wrapped my legs around him, needing to feel him as closely as possible.

We kissed for a long time until he lifted his head and said, “I love you so much, Stacey.”

“I love you, Harry.”

Then he shifted his weight and slipped himself inside me, completely, my head reeling. I could feel him deep, so deep already. My toes curled as he pulled back and did it again, hitting that spot.

“Holy shit,” I cursed, swallowing hard when he did it a third time.

“You feel me?” he whispered.

I shut my eyes and nodded, the only response I could manage at that moment. I braced myself for another thrust, but instead, Harry began to move inside me more gently and fluidly. I opened my eyes then and saw his looking back at me. He grabbed my thigh and lifted it as he licked his lips. I held onto his arms that were on either side of my head and watched him as he fucked me.

Yes, he was making love to me, because he loved me. But he was also trying to prove something, which I didn’t mind at all. He was an astounding lover, and we both knew it.

When he sped up his movements, I could feel myself getting close to the edge. A moan escaped my lips which only seemed to fuel him. He held my hands down as he kissed me hard, his hips pumping. I moaned again into his mouth before he made his way down my neck.

He pulled out for a little bit, only to bring his lips to my breasts, his tongue swirling over my nipples. I bucked my hips, needing to feel the friction again. Harry sensed my discomfort and chuckled under his breath.

“Missing something, baby?” he teased, gliding his finger across my slit.

“Please,” I begged.

“You want my finger? Or my mouth?”

“Neither,” I shook my head.

Harry raised his brows. “Really? Nothing?”

“Just you,” I whined, reaching for his hips.

With another cheeky laugh, he returned to his post. “God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he took hold of my thighs.

He slid in with ease again, only this time he was the one who shut his eyes. He stalled for a moment before letting a breath out through his nose. Then he began to find a steady rhythm, gliding in and out. Just as I reached the same point I’d reached earlier, his face began to change. He let out a deep groan, and I knew he was close too.

“Harry…” I breathed.

I locked my legs around him again so that he only had a small area of movement to make. He moaned in my ear, and I thought I would come undone.

“Oh my God!” I screamed.

“Fuck yeah, baby, I’m so close.”

We came together after a few more thrusts, my legs shaking and my entire body on fire. With a delicate whine and a final breath of exhaustion, Harry collapsed on top of me.

“Wow,” he breathed. “That was...amazing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It felt...different,” he added.

I froze. “Um...bad different?”

“Fuck no. Just...different somehow.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Did it to you?”

I chewed on the inside of my lip. “Um... I guess so.”

“Maybe because...you’re leaving.”

“Maybe so.”

He rolled off of me then and onto his pillow. We both stared at the ceiling, catching our breath and watching the flicker of the candles dancing.

“Harry, I’m gonna miss you so-”

“Shh!” he interrupted. “Don’t say it. Not right now. Please.”

I turned my head to look at him. He continued his focus on the ceiling. My eyes began to water, and I blamed it on my fatigue. But when I began to tremble and I sniffled a few times, I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“Hey,” Harry cooed, turning onto his side and taking me in his arms. “Shhh. Don’t cry, baby. It’ll be okay.”

I buried my face in his chest as he soothed me, rubbing my back.

“I love you, Stacey,” he declared with a promise underneath. “We’ll be fine.”

I believed him when he said he loved me. It was the other part I wasn’t so sure about.

MASTERLIST | KO-FI | FEEDBACK | PATREON

[izzystradliniscute]

Izzy Stradlin magazine interview-Kerrang #421

IZZY STRADLIN's out on his first solo tour since quitting Guns N' Roses, and he's finding out that without his erm, unpredictable former collegues, gigging, and living, is easy. Backed by a mellow, cool and rockin' band, Izzy hits the UK this week. PAUL ELLIOTT hits Bonn, to find our hero wandering around a hotel lobby... wearing a parka!

JUST A few days after Axl Rose was found guilty of assaulting a fan at a Guns N' Roses concert which subsequently ended in a riot, former GN'R guitarist Izzy Stradlin walks freely through a hotel lobby in Bonn, Germany's capital. Nobody hassles him, snaps a photograph or picks a fight. Even GN'R fans might struggle to recognize the dreadlocked Stradlin in his new parka coat. There's just Izzy, no bodyguards or crowds. Izzy Stradlin couldn't be happier about walking out on the biggest rock'n'roll band in the world. Later that day, onstage with his new band Ju Ju Hounds in a Bonn hall a little bigger than the Marquee, Stradlin looks relaxed even though he's still getting to grips with the role of frontman. And he smiles now and then, something he didn't do too much of during the last of his six years with Guns N' Roses. At Wembley Stadium in September of 1991, Stradlin stuck close to his backline while Axl howled and buzzed around like a dog chasing its own tail. When Guns' set finished, Izzy was first out of sight. In Bonn, he talks to the crowd in their native tongue and clearly relishes playing and sharing jokes with the 'Hounds. "It's cool," he says, "real cool. These gigs have been more exciting than doing the stadiums with GN'R on the last tour. All the people are right there - it's an instant, spontaneous response, y'know? it feels real good." The gigs are of course more low-key than Guns N' Roses' controversial 'Get In The Ring' shows, which is just the way Izzy likes it. "There's less drama, which I prefer. It's kinda nice, y'know, being able to make plans. It's nice not to get phone calls like, 'This gig's cancelled, your drummer just took off'! These new guys carry on, but put it this way, we don't have any babysitters - so if you're gonna drink, you gotta get your shit together and get to the bus on time. "The first year of getting sober, I got used to watching my friends drink and snort. I haven't been around it lately."

SINCE IZZY hasn't touched alcohol for three years, Ju Ju Hounds drummer Charlie Quintana retires to his room to drink a bottle of cognac. The Ju Ju Hounds are wiser than most rock'n'roll bands. Guitarist Rick Richards plied his trade with the Georgia Satellites for many years, until they lost their record deal and split. Richards was the working the bars of his native Atlanta when he got the call from Izzy. he looks like he's seen it all, and spins a great yarn over dinner. Rick also plays a mean slide, and is in many ways the star of the show, knocking out great leads with the obligatory cigarette stuck to his bottom lip. Rock'n'roll is in Rick Richards' blood. Charlie has toured with Bob Dylan and enjoys winding up the fans waiting outside the Bonn gig by jumping behind the wheel of the tour bus and threatening to run punters over, yelling, "I don't need a licence - I'm from Texas"! Jimmy 'Two Fingers' Ashhurst (Which two fingers, you may wonder. "It depends!") used to play bass for the Broken Homes, and was the first person Izzy turned to when he was putting the band and the brilliant '...Ju Ju Hounds' album together. Jimmy seems to be laughing most of the time, although he wasn't laughing when he read Bret Easton Ellis' 'American Psycho' recently!

CURRENTLY, THE Ju Ju Hounds' live set includes several covers; The Rolling Stones' 'Jiving Sister Fanny', The Faces' 'My Fault', The Maytals' 'Pressure Drop', of course... but no Guns N' Roses songs. "No," Izzy shrugs. "In Australia, there was a guy in just about every front row yelling

for 'Dust N' Bones' or something, and I'm hitting a chord every time they shout, going, 'What?!.' "I can understand people wanting to hear that stuff - we were gonna rehearse some songs - but in GN'R, I didn't have any singles out. I wrote 'Patience' but I didn't sing it. We just figured, 'Fuck it'." "I don't miss those GN'R songs cos the stuff we've got now is better - better written, better to play. It's totally freeform; we break things down, extend them. If I come in late on a verse or miss it, we'll just look at each other and Rick'll keep going, do a solo or something. "It's real good; once the momentum's there, whatever happens, happens. Last night, I couldn't see the set-list and started two songs wrong. We can sound bad! "In Stockholm, we started with 'Bucket O' Trouble' and everyone was in a different fucking key, man! After the first few bars you could feel your stomach turning; it was bad. I was looking over thinking, I don't know who's in the right key, but when we came to the verse, somehow everybody went back to the right key, the A. It was just one of those things. Rick's going, 'Maybe we should just do that every night, start it out all fucked-up and then click into the A!'. It happens. You gotta flow with it."

NOW YOU'RE back on the road, do you miss the drug high, or the buzz of being in GN'R? "Well, in GN'R I wasn't singing, I wasn't fronting the band, which is a little different. So now, carrying the vocals for most of the set as well as playing has pretty much replaced the buzz. "Even if you're tired, a crowd can lift you up; you feed on that energy. And when we're not touring, dirtbikes are my fix. When we went back to Indiana for a week off, it was 15 degrees outside, cold, but I rode the bikes with my dog Treader chasing me all over fields and shit! That makes me feel good again, cos when I got back from Australia, where I picked up that flu virus, I was pretty haggard. Riding bikes beats sitting around doing krell or something." 'Krell' is rocker slang for cocaine, inspired by the movie 'Heavy Metal', in which long-trunked monsters from the planet Krell descended to snort the Earth! " A lot of the time when I was using (drugs), I'd just end up with a guitar, writing or recording some pretty depressing songs. I thought they were good at the time, and a couple are not too bad, but a lot of the shit I listen back to and think, ugh, that's fucking depressing, or I think of the state I must have been in; lips all cracked, been up for five days, voice gone. Once you got doing you'd never stop. "I could stay up for four or five days straight doing krell and smack or whatever, up and down up and down, writing songs all the time and recording on my eight-track. But give me a bottle of whisky and send me to a club one night, and I'm the guy in the alley throwing up and rolling around. "It just didn't work; it just poisons me and I don't know why. I got Indian blood, and my mom says that's why I can't handle liquor, but it's still a thing I did for a long time. Everybody drinks around me now, but it doesn't bother me. I mean, I don't see these guys throwing up in alleys after gigs or falling down steps. "Most people drink, and for them it's no big deal, but it fucked me up. Now when I look at it, there's like tour life and civilian life. I try to keep two different realities. "When I stopped using, for the first few months I didn't sleep normal for a long time. Somebody told me it takes about a year for your body patterns to get back to normal. I sleep good now."

DID YOU at any point continue using drugs simply to feed the creative process? "Yeah, but there were times when I'd been up for three days working on a song and it still wasn't finished! I heard this one song back, and I'd done, God, five guitar tracks on it, and two or three of the tracks were the same melody played on just one string. And I heard this shit back and I was going, 'Garbage', y'know? "When GN'R did 'Appetite For Destruction', I hadn't really cleaned up, but I'd cleaned up enough to record during the day, then go out at night and drink and do krell and stuff, sleep in till noon, come back in and record. So during the actual recording I wasn't getting too wasted. "For the 'Use Your Illusion' albums, I was sober doing those tracks, and it was just frustrating. When you're sober and you gotta be someplace at four, and when other people come in at six or seven, and they're, like, not quite together, you find yourself thinking, why the fuck was I here at four? "For the basic tracks on 'Illusions', I was done with my stuff in about four or five weeks. That was easy. "For the new record, me and Jimmy and Rick and Charlie would be in the studio at noon, so by one o'clock the amps were warmed up and cranckin' and we were jammin', and after jammin' for a coupla hours we'd start tracking. We finished up the whole thing, including moving base three times from LA to Chicago to Copenhagen, in four or five months, and we had an album which to me rocks as good as any of the stuff I did with GN'R. "That wouldn't have happened like it did had I still been using and all that stuff, but at the same time there have been some songs that came out pretty quickly when I was using; sometimes they come out easy."

'APPETITE FOR Destruction', arguably the hard rock record of the '80s, changed Izzy Stradlin's life irrevocably. Izzy's recollections of the album and GN'R's rise to superstar status are hazy. It is, after all, five years since the album was released, and Izzy's hard drug intake at the time was pretty fucking serious! "I'm real bad at remembering songs, even ones I've done," he chuckles. " 'Paradise City', 'Sweet Child O' Mine'. That was a point where we were on tour with Aerosmith, and David Geffen (founder of GN'R's label) flew out to a gig and he says, 'You guys are rich and famous now'. And we were like, ''We are?! We're still living in a tour bus and in hotels, so what's the difference?'. "I haven't heard 'Appetite...' in years, but I was pretty happy with what it sounded like back then, and fuck, it sold millions of copies, man! "With 'Appetite', I just think of seven or eight months of absolutely no notoriety or any real popularity, and then a few Number One singles, and this explosion, and now you're a pop star. "Well, fuck this, gimme a six pack and a gram of coke and gram of smack and I'll go write some more songs! Isolation was the next point from there. It was great, but it was a load of bullshit being a pop star, so we just isolated ourselves and ignored that crap. After a few months of isolation, that didn't work either. It was time to go back to the Mid-West and hook up some old friends..."

So Izzy quit GN'R for peace of mind, and wound up forming the coolest rock'n'roll band in the world that ain't the Black Crowes.

[demona-andariel]

A Simple Act of Kindness - 7 / ??

Fandom: Texas Chainsaw Massacre (2003)

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Leatherface) x OFC

Summary: Elizabeth wakes up in a stranger's home. Her fate to become another victim of the Hewitt family is all but sealed till a simple act of kindness changes her life forever.

Warning: (Encompassing the whole story in no particular order) dead dove, rape/Noncon, violence, forced marriage, kidnapping, cannibalism, explicit sexual content, loss of virginity, angst

Author Note: Minors DNI!

Word Count: 2,529

Chapter 7 - One Simple Day

Elizabeth slowly woke up, feeling gross and sweaty. She stared ahead, watching herself through the mirror that was on the back of the door. Much to Thomas’ sounds of protestation, she had decided to actually wear a long nightshirt and underwear. It had been a while since she hadn’t slept naked, and she was roasting. That was a huge mistake.

Freaking Texas, she thought. His body heat behind her wasn’t helping. But, she had to do it. She had to put as much of a barrier between him and her as possible. She had failed in testing him to keep his hands and sexual needs to himself, considering she got turned on and chose to fuck him. Was it too much to ask for just one day of no fucking?

She got out of bed and walked to the bathroom. For a brief second, her world spun, but she pushed through that feeling. Grabbing a hand towel, she wet it with cold water from the sink and gently patted the back of her neck then face to cool off. 

Today , she thought to herself, no matter what, we need to test him and see if he’ll respect us. She let out a sigh. He claimed he saw her as a person, and there was a part of her that believed him. But saying one thing held little meaning until it was actually done. Although, he was being super careful when they showered. Doing his best not to touch her or initiate sex between them. 

Setting the hand towel back where it belonged, she walked out of the bathroom. 

Thomas was awake and up, eyes focused on her. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she said as she got back into bed. It was still pretty early. He laid back down, eyes watching her with interest. He reached out to touch her, but then pulled his hand back quickly as if he weren’t allowed. 

“You don’t talk do you?” she asked, not giving him an invitation to touch her. 

He simply shook his head. She reached out and he stiffened as she touched his face. He probably would never stop automatically reacting with fear each time she touched him, and despite knowing exactly who he was now and what he’d done and would continue to do, she felt sorry for him. 

“I was one of those popular girls in school,” she started, gently running a finger along his body to do something while she talked. “But, I was also a big bully to kids who would bully, umm, for lack of a better word probably, kids like you. See, my brother, before the accident he had this very noticeable stutter. Kids used to make fun of him and I would get into fights with them. So, he ended up getting a little following because of me. Mess with him or his friends and expect me to come after you. And I was pretty vicious at times.” She paused for a moment, watching him carefully. “You could say I was the Queen Bee of my school. Then everything changed pretty quick.” 

His face darkened a little bit, but then he let out a sigh, rubbing his hand along the scar on her arm. She cracked a small smile.

“To be honest, the scars I got didn’t change much in school. You would think so, but I think maybe I had so much control it was hard to unseat me. I was the one who let go of High School social life. My parents checked out of our lives pretty quickly. None of us escaped the fire uninjured. But, I don’t know.” She shrugged. “I know they loved us, but they had me young, and I think they were just counting the years till we were eighteen and could leave the house. When they realized that my brother needed so much care they weren’t happy. So, I had to grow up pretty quick.”

She paused for a moment, studying his face. His hand rose up to massage her jaw. 

“I can’t remember the last time someone’s taken care of me,” the words slipped out, much to her surprise. “I’ve always had to be the one to look out for others. I’ve always had to deal with my life problems on my own.” She had to swallow back her gorge and close her eyes. She had never really thought about it. But, the words were true. 

The almost completely quiet sane part of her mind started to rise up, trying to remind her who exactly she was talking to, opening up to. She quickly hushed the disappointed voice. This was no longer about morals or right and wrong or fighting back. It was about sanity and surviving. She had to make sure that he saw her as a person worth keeping around, and not just a babymaker or sex object. 

Scooting up, she kissed him. He moved in closer, wrapping his arms around her. She immediately pulled back, placing her hand on his chest. “This isn’t about sex, Thomas,” she stated, just so that he knew where she was at. “I’m feeling tired. I want to rest today. Maybe tomorrow.”

He looked very disappointed but nodded his head as he kissed her forehead. She let out a content sigh and snuggled close to his chest despite the fact she was feeling very warm. She listened to his pounding heartbeat then closed her eyes and fell asleep. 

His moving woke her up. She moaned softly. She didn’t want to wake up or move. A dull ache thumped in her head. Suppressing another moan, she got up as well. Hopefully, they had Aleve or something, but at the same time, she kinda doubted it. 

Half dressed, Thomas placed his big hand on her shoulder, bringing her face up to look at him. She forced a smile to cross her face, yawning. “Just a little groggy,” she said, hoping that was what he was concerned about. “It might take me a few hours to fully wake up.”

He let her go. She went into her single drawer in his dresser and picked out the clothes she wanted to wear for the day. It was an old dress that had belonged to Luda Mae. She wasn’t sure what they’d done with her luggage that held her clothes. More than likely sold, gave away, or burned them. She didn’t want to know, being honest with herself. She’d already lost so much, she’d rather just assumed she’d lost them too. 

Thomas’ lips pressed against her cheek and she couldn’t help but smile and press her hand against his cheek. With that, he left his room. Putting on Luda Mae's old dress, she sighed yet again. Elizabeth had no idea how to sew, but it was clear she needed to learn. The dress was a couple of sizes too big. Not like they would let her go out and do clothing shopping of her own. 

Grabbing a couple of dresses as well as the dirty clothes, she stuffed them into a laundry basket and headed down the stairs. 

Her world spun a little again, making her place her hand on the wall for support. Rubbing the bridge of her nose she clenched her jaw. Her headache was getting worse, and her forehead felt a little too warm. Was she getting sick? No, she couldn’t get sick. She pushed her unwell feelings to one side, focusing on pretending she was alright. 

Carefully, she walked down the stairs. She’d just have to find an excuse to go to bed early. A long night’s sleep should be all she needed to get better.

“What’s this?” Luda Mae asked as Elizabeth handed her a small list.

“Things I need,” Elizabeth stated firmly. She kept her shoulders square but also tried her best not to look intimidating. 

Luda Mae scanned the list then shook her head. “Do you think we can afford this?”

Elizabeth nodded. “I do. Unless you’ve spent all the cash that was in the car you found us in. Plus, no offense, your dresses don’t quite fit me. If you had kept my clothes I probably would have been alright wearing them for a while.”

Luda Mae hummed for a moment, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. “Coconut oil?” she asked.

“For my skin,” Elizabeth said, making sure to keep her voice even. “Cream is okay, but I found that a little bit of coconut oil really helps my skin better. More natural.”

Luda Mae's eyes softened, accepting Elizabeth’s answer. “Well, dearie,” she said pretending to be friendly. “I’ll send someone to see if they can find all the items on your list.”

“Thank you,” Elizabeth said before retreating. A risky gamble on her end and she knew it, but she didn’t want to give Luda Mae any opening to deny her requests. She wasn’t asking for very much either. The coconut oil was the most important thing on the list for her. But, cleaning and lounging around every day were going to get pretty boring after a while. Especially now that she wasn’t nearly as worried for her life as she had been the last couple of weeks. Elizabeth had added a couple of extra items including requesting some books, not that she expected that part to be fulfilled.

She made her way back to the laundry room. It was difficult for her to think and for once she was glad doing laundry was so mind-numbingly dull for her. Pulling out the last sheet to fold, her world spun yet again, making her place her hand on the wall to steady herself. It was official, she had come down with something. She wasn’t even sure what. No one in the family had gotten sick. At least, not sick enough for her to notice. Was it something she ate? 

A shudder ran through her at the thought of possibly being fed human meat. It was possible that the family, Luda Mae, and Thomas, were sneaking human meat into her food. Bile rose up at the thought. She swallowed hard and pushed it back. 

The only other explanation she had was she had been so tensed and scared that now that she had relaxed, her weakened body easily caught something. 

Neither way mattered in the end. She was sick and she couldn’t tell anyone. Luda Mae would probably assume she was pregnant, which she knew she wasn’t. And she didn’t want to appear any weaker than she already was to the family. 

It took more mental and physical energy than she wanted to make her way upstairs to put away the laundry and make the bed. In fact, it had taken her more time than it should have to do the laundry in general. 

“Dinner’s almost ready!” Luda Mae shouted up to her, surprising her. Where had lunchtime gone? 

Yeah, she was for sure getting sick. She paused for a moment, taking in a deep breath. Well, at least the day’s almost done. Just a little bit more. Collecting whatever energy reserves she had, she made her way down to the kitchen. Not wanting Luda Mae to ask for help, Elizabeth went straight for the dishes and set up the table, making sure not to forget anyone. A chill ran down her spine at the thought of seeing Hoyt again, but it was only a matter of time before he showed up for dinner. 

“You can go sit down,” Luda Mae said the moment Elizabeth was done setting up the table. 

“Thank you,” Elizabeth automatically replied. She would rather go upstairs and sleep. Almost done , she had to remind herself again.

Walking into the dining room, she paused for a moment as her heart jumped to her throat. Hoyt sat in his usual spot, giving her one of his lecherous smiles again, and Thomas was nowhere around.

“Evening,” Elizabeth said softly as she went to her spot and sat down. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him or whatever plans were made for her. Much to her relief, the door opened, and Thomas’ heavy walking made her look up and smile at him as he sat down next to her. 

There was an odd speed as Luda Mae placed the food on the table, before sitting down in her chair. It was almost as if Elizabeth was watching the world move at a slightly faster pace. Everyone quickly filled their plate while Thomas handed hers without a second thought. 

“Thank you,” she muttered as she picked up her fork to eat. Just a little bit longer , she told herself. Despite her thoughts, she just stared at her plate. Nothing looked appetizing. If anything, the thought of food upset her stomach even more. Her head continued to throb with pressure and her body tingled with weakness. She just had to push through dinner. Push through dinner, get to bed, and sleep off her developing fever. 

“Are you not feeling well, dearie?” Luda Mae asked with concern. 

Elizabeth put on her best smile. “I’m just tired is all,” she said softly. Don’t tip them off, she thought. She glanced up at Thomas who also looked concerned, giving him her best content smile.

“Running the bit-her ragged, huh?” Hoyt caught his word as Thomas growled. 

She narrowed her eyes to glare at his uncle, who only laughed in response. Sick or no, she wasn’t going to stop showing her hate towards him.

“I’ll get used to you, girlie. Don’t worry, Tommy,” he said directing his attention to his nephew. “She’s yours and a part of our family now. I get it. Just gotta give your old uncle some time to remember his manners.”

Thomas pressed his body against Elizabeth’s as if he were trying to comfort her before he focused on his food again. 

All she had to do was eat, clean dishes, go up to their room and go to sleep. Thomas already knew sex was off the table. She could only hope he’d respect that. She picked at her food, mustering the energy she needed to bring it up to her mouth to eat. Nope! Her throat felt like it closed to deny entry. “I’m sorry. I’m not hungry. I’m really tired. Excuse me, I’m going to bed,” she muttered quickly as she rose from the table. That was a mistake. Her world spun even harder. She vaguely heard the sound of a chair scraping across the floor. Strong arms caught her, just before she hit the ground herself and picked her up. 

Luda Mae's warm hand pressed against her forehead. “Oh dearie, you are sick,” the woman stated.

Elizabeth couldn’t help but clutch Thomas’ shirt for reassurance. She wanted to deny it, but she just had no more energy.

“Tommy, take her upstairs, I’ll prepare-”

Whatever else Luda Mae said Elizabeth didn’t hear. Time seemed to stutter as one moment she was in the dining room, next she was going up the stairs and finally she was in bed. A cool cloth on her head made her moan and open her eyes to see a very concerned Thomas in front of her, doing his best to cool her down. 

She forced a smile to cross her face as she reached out for him. “I’ll survive,” she promised. She’d been through worse after all.

Chapter 8 - In Sickness

[can-of-pringles]

When I'm Alone with You - Chapter 10

Rating: Gen

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Copia and Silas talk more

Also Read on AO3

Note: Sorry that there's not much plot progression in this chapter, I've been sick for a while so ¯_(ツ)_/¯

June

---

“I love that we’re getting into summer now… reminds me more of home,” Silas spoke.

Silas and Copia rarely spent breaks by themselves now, taking the time to get to know each other. They had seamlessly moved from just recommending songs to talking about their lives in general; slowly opening up to each other as time moved forward.

“Well, it’s good for you. Here I am, stuck in these layers as it grows hotter.” Copia mildly grumbled to himself.

The heat was even more obvious as they were hanging out in their usual favorite outside place.

“You wouldn’t last in a Texas summer.” Silas teased.

“Maybe not all season, no, but I think I could handle a bit of it… although, actually, could we move and sit somewhere shadier?” He frowned.

“Yeah, there’s another bench close by under a big tree. Should be plenty of shade for you,”

“Thank you for understanding despite being totally immune to the sun, apparently.” Copia joked slightly.

“Hey, I never said that did I? Yeah, sometimes the summers were unbearable…” He winced. “It helped that I could go and visit my dad’s side of the family during that time. Summer here is cooler.”

Copia was finally able to relax more in the shade, although one thing he didn’t take into consideration was that now the sun wouldn’t shine on Silas and show off his eyes. He sighed, but Silas didn’t seem to notice.

“Do you miss it?” He asked. “Back home, I mean.”

Silas nodded. “Course. I like living here full-time, but it doesn’t mean I don’t miss my home country, or more accurately, my state. Do you miss Italy?”

“Yes, sometimes… I grew up in the Ministry there, so this place does feel somewhat familiar, but it’s not the same.” He glanced down.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking, have you always been really involved with… all of this?” Silas gestured vaguely.

“Yes, I was mainly raised by the Sisters of the Ministry and partially my older brother figures… mostly by Papa Emeritus the First, or Primo, as he usually preferred.” Copia chuckled shortly, remembering how Primo would repeatedly remind people to call him by his name rather than title. How long had it been since an old memory brought him happiness instead of the usual grief?

“It’s good you had them around, I’m an only child so I don’t know what it’s like growing up with siblings, although my friend Hanna and I have known each other since we were little kids and so I guess that’s the closest experience I’ll have to that,” Silas remarked.

“She’s the one that watches Blizzard, yeah?” Copia asked.

“Occasionally, she jokes and likes to say it counts as job experience. She’s a dog groomer.”

“Oh… interesting. I can’t imagine dealing with all those dogs. Not that I don’t like dogs, but I just meant it seems like a lot.” He stammered.

“I agree with you, Blizzard is work enough.” Silas chuckled. “No, seriously… he’s a crazy bundle of energy, but I love him, though.”

“He sounds like a good dog. Maybe I can meet him, eventually?” Copia asked.

Silas smiled. “Sure, as long as you’re prepared for tons of fur…” He joked.

Copia laughed, and Silas grinned at the sight.

“I promise it’s actually not that bad…” He quickly added.

“I think I can handle a little bit of dog fur… honestly, I got used to how much the Ghouls shed…” Copia sighed and shook his head.

“Right? Ugh, I have to do so much sweeping and vacuuming because of the fur! At least it’s not all the time.” Silas exclaimed. “But that’s one good thing about the summer. They’re not shedding right now,”

“You know what? You’re right, that is one good thing about summer.” He shrugged. “Also, let me clarify, I do like summer, just in lighter clothes, alright?”

Silas tried to refrain from snickering at his persistence in defending himself about the summer opinions. “Understood.”

“Yeah, I can imagine myself just relaxing at a beach house or something…” Copia sighed and closed his eyes, imagining it as a bit of sun shone on his face.

Silas had a small smile on his face. “It sounds nice.”

“Did you and your family ever go on summer vacations?” Copia looked at him.

“Well, we never went to any beach houses. When I was younger, we’d go camping and sometimes that meant near the beach.” Silas glanced down at his clasped hands, reminiscing about his childhood.

“Oh, I’ve never been camping, is it fun?” He slightly tilted his head.

Silas pressed his lips into a line. “Well… when you’re a little kid, it’s pretty fun, but once you get older, it kinda loses its charm… I got tired of it once I became a little older.”

“Oh…” Copia furrowed his brows. “Seems to me you still like being outside, though.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind spending a bit of time outside. It’s when it’s multiple days outside without a house or proper shower or bathroom… it really started to irritate my skin after a while.” He sighed and dropped the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry…” He frowned.

“It’s alright, I haven’t gone camping since I was in my teens. I’ve had plenty of time to get over all the issues.” Silas smiled reassuringly. “I’m thankful my parents never pressured me into joining scouts.” He scoffed.

“Yeah, I suppose if you hated camping you’d want to avoid that,” Copia said.

“I’m guessing that the Ministry didn’t have like their own version of that or something?”

“No, just worship and the likes. Why do you ask?” He raised a brow.

Silas squinted and hummed. “I don’t know… you just seem like the scout-ish type to me… or just wanting to hang out with other kids doing one big activity together? Actually, I just realized that sounds similar to school.” He chuckled.

“I had tutors, basically homeschooled. And I sometimes would play with the other kids in the Ministry, or with my older brothers, but honestly, most of the time I was by myself…” Copia absentmindedly kicked a pebble. “I think that’s why I took such a liking to my pet rats, because we always had each other, if that makes sense.”

Silas’ expression softened. “Yeah, it makes sense. I understand being by yourself a lot… I was a pretty shy kid.”

Copia gave him a small smile. “At least we’re not by ourselves a lot now, right?”

He returned it. “Yeah, you have a point.”

“We’re together.” Copia lightly bumped his shoulder with his. “Friends, we’re friends spending time together,” he quickly added.

“Yeah, of course.” Silas smiled, not picking up on Copia’s quick correction.

“Anyway… looks like we better get back to work.” He sighed and stood up. “Don’t need Sister finding us slacking.”

Silas furrowed his brows. “We’re on break, though. We’re not ‘slacking’ as you put it.” He stood up as well, brushing off any possible stray dirt from the bench.

“I know, I know, I just meant Sister- either way… probably wouldn’t approve. Eh, you know how she is.” He fidgeted with his sleeve.

Silas shrugged. “True.”

“Walk with you back?” Copia asked.

He nodded and smiled, walking beside him.

[xowlan]

Nice to meet you, Birdy| R. SMITH

p a i r i n g: raymond smith x fem!reader

f a n d o m: the gentlemen

s u m m a r y: you meet Raymond in very unexpected circumstances

w a r n i n g s: violence, guns, hints at sexual assault

m a s t e r l i s t

The door opens.

Stepping inside you took of the black leather gloves that shielded your hands from the harsh cold winter. Your eyes looked around and you noticed the barman eyeing you. You probably weren't the first stranger he saw that night as you expected that your friends had already arrived. But by the looks of the warm-colored bar, you wouldn't be surprised that the place had its regulars.

Looking away from the barman, you found your friends at a table in what seemed to be a backroom that had several tables at the side with one round table in the middle. The place was very crowded, but no one sat at that round table.

Walking over to your friends, you greeted each other. Smiling at them, you took off your coat and nestled on one of the wooden chairs.

Saskia, your talkative friend, ordered you a glass of wine before she turned to you. "So how was Texas?" She wiggled her eyebrows. You just came back from Texas where the rest of your family lived.

Being born a Texan, you never really felt at home there. The only thing that kept you there were the horses your parents trained. But when you were twenty, you met a guy from New York who was on vacation in your hometown. You both quickly fell in love and after a couple months, you decided to move in with him in his New York penthouse. His way of living was different from yours. You changed your hard days at the barn for paperwork in a car selling room. Parties, where your brother sang around a bonfire, were replaced by fancy balls where you met people with all kinds of titles.

It was a big change, and while you expected you would have difficulties adapting to that kind of life, you actually rolled into it. You loved it because you had everything you dreamed of when you were a kid. When you and your ex decided to each go their own way, you moved to the UK after deciding to live a life of success. And so far, that was going good.

Your eyes lingered on the freckles of your friend. "Texas was good, although my family looked at me as if an alien lived with them."

"How come?" Felicia asked, pushing a stray of blonde hair back. You sipped from your wine and shrugged. "They are farmers. Although money isn't strange to us, it always goes towards the horses. You should've seen their faces when I arrived with the Lamborgini I rented."

Samantha snorted, her sitting opposite of you. "Who the fuck rents a Lambo to drive through dust and horse shit?"

"I do." You wink at the three girls. They laugh at you. "You're truly one of a kind, y/n," Saskia muttered.

The rest of the night was filled with laughter and wine, and you even swapped sides with Samantha, as you now faced the entire bar. The number of customers had extremely lowered. You had noticed that all over the bar, men were sitting, clothed in what seemed to be very expensive long coats. A bad feeling had kicked in and you looked at the full glasses of you and your friends.

They hadn't noticed anything at all, so while they kept talking, you had your eyes wandering. The barman seemed to be on edge as he made a fast call, his eyes keeping guard on the different men.

There truly was something going on.

You knew about the criminal activity in London. Its rate wasn't very low and you were truly hoping that whatever was going on, it hadn't anything to do with the mob.

"I think we should go." You muttered to your friends, realizing you, your friends, and the odd men were the only ones left at the bar. Saskia nodded. "Fine, but I'm going to pee first." Before you could protest, she stood up and stumbled over to the bathroom.

Turning to your other friends, you thought of a way to get them out while you waited for a drunk Saskia. You knew they all came with a taxi, so digging into your purse you threw them your car keys. "Why don't you guys warm up the engine while I wait for Saskia. The car`s around the corner."

Samantha gave you a strange look but did take the keys before leaving the bar with Felicia. Some of the men watched the two girls leave before they turned their gaze onto you. You swallowed and decided to make yourself look busy by putting on your coat. You hadn't realized that the barman had reached your table. "You should leave, we're about to close."

"I'm just waiting for my friend then we will go." You said. Seeing the look in your eyes, the man knew you had figured out about the group of men. His mouth opened to speak but he was interrupted by the front door opening.

You peeked around him and your breath hitched when you saw three men walking in, each strong and big. But the one in front caught your eyes. The blonde slicked back hair, the blonde beard that just called out for you to run your fingers through it and the blue eyes enhanced by a pair of glasses truly did it for you.

They all stood tall and the blonde walked towards you and the barman while the two stayed at the door. Blue eyes pierced into yours as the stranger neared. "I thought I said to make sure that all the customers were gone, Jordan."

"She is just waiting on her friend."

"There is someone else?" The stranger raised an eyebrow, looking at you. "She is in the bathroom, drunk." You muttered. Looking over the shoulder of the tall man in front of you, you saw one of the others standing up before reaching for a gun. "No one is leaving. She knows what the fuck is going on Ray. We're both from the same world, you know she needs to die." The man chuckles.

But you didn't find his words funny at all. Freezing up, you stared at Ray with scared eyes, silently pleading to keep you alive. "Please", you try, "I don't know what's going on, just let us go." A sob escaped you. Ray lifted a finger and hushed you quietly. He took a step forwards, covering your body fully with his, and leaned in so he was breathing right next to your ear. "Hide." He whispered the one word that made you run.

All hell had burst loose.

Hiding underneath a table, you covered your ears from the gunshots while silently praying that Saskia stayed in that bloody bathroom. Your ears were ringing and your wide eyes stared at the cold floor that was hard against your knees. Silent tears streamed down your face.

Not noticing the sudden silence, you jumped when a hand wrapped around your arm and pulled you from underneath the table.

"Hey, hey, it's me," Ray shouted, holding you firmly in his large hands, the golden ring around his left pinky digging into the skin of your arm. "You're okay."

You slowly calmed down. Your breathing evened out as you focused on the blue eyes of Ray. His deep voice finally got through you. You wanted to look around but the moment you shifted in his hold, he held you still.

"Don't. You don't wanna see this." Ray muttered, features soft as he noticed the fear in your eyes. "Are you gonna kill me?" You had to ask. You just witnessed the murder of five men. You saw something not meant for your eyes.

Ray sighed and looked over his shoulder. "Bunny," the tall dark man looked up from the body he was dragging around. "call the boss, tell him what happened and that I will come in with a witness tonight. Frazier, why don't you check up on the lady in the bathroom?"

The men did as ordered and Ray turned his attention to you. "You're not going to die, but you will have to understand that because of this you are now pulled into a world where you will have to learn to keep your mouth shut to your family, friends, boyfriend, anyone."

"I don't have a boyfriend." You remarked and you almost missed the small smirk on Ray's lips. Frazier appeared at Ray's side as he looked at you. "Your friend is passed out."

Ray sighed and nodded. "Take her in the car, we will bring her home before we take this Birdy to the boss." Two pairs of eyes turned to you.

Oh, how you wish you had canceled that night.

t a g l i s t: add yourself here

[tpwkay]

Medicine (h.s.)

You’re finally given permission to cover the song you’ve wanted to perform for years and a special surprise during your performance sweeps you off of your feet.

Word count: 11.5k

Rating/warnings: NSFW - A lot of this is plot but there is smut as well. Contains explicit language and consensual sex acts between a man and woman. This is a story written in the 2nd person (“self insert"). This isn’t written to be exclusionary, it’s just my preferred style! Author’s note can be found at the end!

"Ladies and gentlemen, I cannot thank you enough for coming out tonight to listen to me and the band. We've got a couple more songs coming up for you but I just wanted to take a minute to tell y'all how much we appreciate you." You gesture to yourself and the band behind you as the lights on stage come up a bit. "We wouldn't be where we are without your support. From the bottom of our hearts, thank you!"

The crowd cheers and you can't help but experience an insurmountable feeling of joy. It never gets old. You'd been in the spotlight for a few years now, already at the end of touring your second album, though the size and scope of venues this time around was much, much larger. There was nothing that compared to being able to sing your own songs and have a crowd of thousands scream them right back at you.

Being an up-and-coming singer and songwriter in the genre of country music hadn't been easy. Girls your type had been a dime a dozen, hoards of Taylor Swift-wannabes covering "Teardrops on My Guitar" during open mic night. You held nothing against them; there was a path to success for everyone, but yours had been, well, different. 

It was a karaoke cover of Brooks & Dunn's "Boot Scootin' Boogie", a song that you'd been singing since you were a toddler, that had gotten you noticed by a recording artist one night while out with your girlfriends, which led you to where you stand now, performing in front of thousands. You were liked for the range of your voice, with it's easy easy transitions from the sounds of pop to country and rock, in addition to the way you performed, and your take-no-shit attitude towards the entirety of the industry. People liked that you were forward and left nothing on the table, though you had to admit that it was mostly an act, a means of coping with the pressure of working your way to the top.

///

"It's refreshing!" Jax, your manager, had shouted one day, arms flailing as you had argued that maybe your attitude was going to get you into trouble one of these days.

"Aren't you, as, you know, my manager, supposed to be the one keeps me in line?"

"You aren't out doing coke, killing anyone, public indecency and all that," he had shrugged. "Far as I'm concerned, you are in line. People talk about you because of your attitude. They like it! They like you. Why is that so hard for you to accept sometimes?"

"Maybe I just haven't been caught doing those things," you grinned, effectively dodging his question. Fame hadn't helped break down the walls that you'd long ago built around yourself. If anything, you had done some reinforcing, built a moat even, in an effort to ensure that you protected yourself from getting too close to anyone that would only end up using you in the end. You had seen the way people in life had been used, and what it ultimately led them to, and you had promised yourself long ago that even if it meant being known as the Boot Scootin' Bitch, you would protect yourself and your heart at all costs. 

"Your momma would tan your hide for much less than any of those, you know. Hell, you should be more afraid of her than you are of me or anyone else… 'cept maybe God."

///

You shake your head, working the memories free from your mind as you grab a bottle of water from the platform on which the drum set rests.

There's one more song of yours to sing before you performed a new cover, the one you had been looking forward to for months. Although you'd gotten permission to perform it not long into the start of your tour, the set list had been rehearsed already and every other detail ironed out around it. You'd convinced Jax and the crew to let you slot it into the last concert of the tour, Austin, Texas. These folks knew their music and for some reason, they liked you so you were thrilled to be able to share something new with the crowd that had welcomed you to their city with open arms. 

You grab your guitar off its stand and slide the strap over your shoulders, adjusting it as you step forwards to the mic stand. A shimmering blue shirt catches your eye in the crowd and you do a double take because surely it can't be Harry because he's—

And it's not him, of course, though the fashion of the gentleman in the pit area would surely catch his eye as well as it's right up his alley. It's not him - it can't be him - because you know exactly where he is right now and it's not in the pit of your Austin performance. 

A grin stretches over your face as you think of him. You strum the first chord of the first song you'd ever written about him, although there had been many more since. He probably knew this one was about him, having come just after your first meeting. 

/// 

A friend of yours was good friends with Kacey, who had been the guest artist that night. Her name had been added to the VIP list and in the summer of 2018, just as you were hitting your own stride in your career, you tagged along with her to Harry Styles' live tour performance in your hometown of Nashville. 

If you were being honest, prior to his concert, you hadn't heard much of his solo work, apart from the various huge hits like his Kiwi or Watermelon Sugar and a few other ballads. You liked his sound, seemingly influenced heavily by rock stars of days past, but you'd had other influences to worry about in your own side of the industry. 

Sure, he had country music connections through the likes of Kacey Musgraves and Cam, and legends like Stevie Nicks, but his pop and soft rock style was pretty far removed from most country playlists that you yourself had graced. Your genres just didn't cross paths and the two of you seemingly operated in different realms of the music industry, topping your own charts and breaking your own peer's records. 

Of course, you hadn't been completely oblivious to The Harry Styles. One Direction had been too big of a deal to ignore and you'd often found yourself bopping along to their old hits, singing along as they played amongst the other nostalgic pop hits to which you listened. 

The concert had been in June, a hot sunny day followed by a perfect breezy evening. Downtown Nashville was always busy, but that night the city seemed to buzz, bright with music and life. After meeting for drinks at Acme on the River, you allowed yourself to luxuriate in getting lost in the crowd that milled about on Broadway. It was a surprising thing to not be recognized in your hometown, but you weren't one to complain about it. It was one reason that you value your time in Nashville over other music-centric cities like Los Angeles - it seemed that people here respected the private lives of musicians. There was an odd fan here and there, but you'd lived a majority of your "famous" life in Nashville in relative peace. 

You were early to the venue, your friend having wanted to have a chance to see Kacey backstage. You were excited to finally meet the star - though you'd been around the block of fame a bit already, there would always be people that you never had an opportunity to meet in passing. You had been greeted at will call and had been led backstage.

The arena was alive with excitement. At that point, you yourself had never toured a venue that large, so the experience of being backstage and seeing the operations first hand were thrilling and a bit overwhelming. In her dressing room, Kacey pulled you straight into a hug, gushing about how excited she was to watch your career take off. She insisted on sharing her personal cell phone number with you, urging you to call her to get together on a collaboration. You were in shock leaving her room, blown away by her kindness and the way the music industry worked in the most bizarre of ways, when you turned a corner and ran smack into a tall, solid, smiling Harry Styles. His arms had come out quickly to steady you on your heels boots. 

"Fuck," you swore, shaking your head at your clumsiness. "I am so sorry. What a great way to introduce myself."

He laughed and the sound flowed through you, warm and sweet like a cup of tea with honey. "Y'alright?" His eyes looked you over, and you couldn't help but notice the way they lingered. 

Your cheeks blushed and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. "I'm the one that should be asking you that. I don't think your adoring fans would be very happy if I took you out with a textbook tackle right before you're due to go on stage." You took a moment to give him the same appreciative glance he had already given you, admiring the way his deep blue custom-beaded suit jacket fell open to reveal a black dress shirt, unbuttoned halfway down his chest. 

"Ah, 'm fine. Lil' thing like you couldn't do too much damage to me, even in those heels. Don't think they'd be very happy though," he said, nodding his head in acknowledgement of the already-rowdy crowd while offering his hand. "I'm Harry."

You laughed as you introduced yourself, shaking his hand. 

"I've heard that name before, but I'm sorry to say that I don't recognize you. You don't seem like one that's easy to forget."

"I sing, write music," you shrugged, not sure how to explain to a superstar that you were on the way up, yet still somewhere much farther down the fame totem pole than him. "Country, mostly. Not sure if that's on your radar."

"The new stuff's not, but I may have to change that." He was tapped by one of the event producers, needed for another pre-show procedure. "Where will you be tonight?" 

"To your right, in the pit."

He smiled and you had almost immediately fallen in love with the crinkles that appeared under the corners of his eyes. "I'll look out for you. It was wonderful meeting you. Oh, shit, wait, just remembered— may I?" he gestured for the phone that was in your hand and you unlocked it before passing it to him. 

You watched as he dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. He paused for a moment before he grinned. "Hi Harry, it's you from before the show. This is a message to remind you to text this number and ask the owner of it out on a date. She's the one with the beautiful smile and great tackling skills. You won"t have forgotten her. 'Kay, bye!"

You laughed at an almost embarrassing volume, blown away by his cheek. 

"Why not ask 'her' out now?" you pondered to him as he handed the phone back.

"What, and risk getting shot down? Wouldn't want to be sad and disappointed through my whole show, now would I?"

"It would make the ballads a bit more emotional," you had reasoned with a grin.

"Ouch! They're already filled with emotion, love. You'll see, I'll sing 'em right to you if I have to. Gotta run, thank you for letting me use your phone, that was a very important message!"

You laughed again as he took off. "Harry!" you had shouted to get his attention in the busy hall. He turned quickly, a small smile on his face. "She definitely won't say no, but you can wait until later to ask if you want to."

His grin stretched wider and he'd pumped a fist in the air before turning and jogging down the hallway. 

You liked to joke with anyone who knew the story that your life had changed that day all because you met Kacey. Which wasn't a complete lie - it had been her dressing room you'd come out of before slamming into Harry in the hallway. 

///

Singing the last lines of one of your songs, your stomach began to flutter in a bit of nervousness and a lot of excitement. Performing the next cover was something you had been looking forward to for months, and the moment that you got to share it with your fans was finally here. 

You retreat from the mic stand to pass your guitar off to a stagehand, taking another sip of water to settle yourself. 

"Doing alright?" Wyatt, your drummer, shouts over the pounding bass drum and you give him a thumbs up before turning back to face the crowd. 

"I've got one more cover to play for y'all tonight," you say, grasping the mic stand to keep your hands from shaking. "I've been working on getting permission to play this one for quite awhile now. I fell in love with it the first time I heard it played and now here I am, performing it for you all. It's an unreleased piece by a very, very good friend of mine, but his performances of it are all over the internet so some of you may know the words. This song is called Medicine."

The song starts out with a steady bass line and the rhythm centers you a bit, steadying any nerves that still linger. The intro gives you a minute to shake out your shoulders and get comfortable at the mic stand once more like Harry does at each performance. You catch yourself having fun mimicking him and feel thankful that you're able to perform one of your favorite songs of his. When the bass drops in pitch and the electric guitar riffs, you slide in close to the mic stand.

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine," you sang the opening lines, already settling into the sexy rock sound of the song you and the band had rehearsed relentlessly over the last few weeks. No, the genre wasn't one you normally dabbled in, but part of the fun of performing was taking chances, risks. You had to admit, you liked the sound a lot. It tempted you to branch out a bit more on your upcoming album. 

The opening lines of the first verse throw you back into thoughts of meeting Harry that first night. You hadn't imagined what would follow the concert, let alone have the foresight to see it bringing you to this very moment in time.��

///

You had been standing outside the arena after the concert, ears buzzing and heart thumping still from the incredible show Harry had put on. As soon as he disappeared from the backstage hall earlier, you had immediately saved his number to your phone, still in disbelief over the night's events. 

Your heart had soared when your phone began to vibrate, not in a text message but in a voice call. Harry's name appeared on the screen and your friend had nudged you, clearly approving of the night's turn of events. 

"Harry," you answered, ready to praise him halfway to Sunday on his performance. 

"Let me take you out," he interrupted you. "Right now. Please? Anywhere you want to go." 

You laughed and paused. "Yeah, okay. I might know of a place."

There was a lot of shuffling on his end before his voice came back on the line. "Might've had to do another fist pump."

"Told you she wouldn't say no."

"Where are you?" You heard the smile in his voice, already familiar with it. 

"Demonbreun and John Lewis, headed towards the park."

"Give me 10, I'll pick you up." He paused. "Be careful, okay?"

"I'll stick with the hoards of your fans milling about, maybe ask some of them for the hot gossip on you while I wait."

"Don't believe anything they say," he said, and you could tell he was still smiling as he hung up. 

He and his driver arrived shortly after, Harry's hair damp and covered with a baseball cap, dressed down in black pants and a simple loose white shirt, tattoos peeking out everywhere you looked. He exited the car and opened the back door for you, helping you balance as you stepped up into the large Suburban. 

"We'll go to Pecker's," you said to his driver, laughing as Harry snorted next to you. "Shut up, it's just a bar. Take a right up here onto 24 and it'll take us all the way to Fairfield. It'll be on the right."

He looked at you and smiled before reaching out to hold your hand in the middle seat between you. 

Taking Harry to Pecker's had just felt right. It was where you'd been discovered, where all of your adventures had started, and you weren't sure why but you wanted to share that small part of you with him after watching him up on stage that night. 

"Won't people recognize you? I looked you up before the show, you're apparently a pretty big deal around here." He had asked, smirking, sipping on the locally-brewed beer that Clint, the regular bartender, was serving that night. 

"Locals are pretty good about not interrupting our normal lives. Pecker's isn't as well known to tourists either, so it's a good hideout. This is where a lot of producers, executives and all the other professionals come to unwind." You ignored his comment on your fame and had taken a sip of your margarita instead. "Unless, of course, there's a drag show scheduled, then it's a bit of a madhouse."

Harry laughs into his drink and you grin. "So," he started after a pause, twiddling with the rings on his right hand. "What'd you think?"

"It was incredible," you said without hesitation. "Truly one of the best live shows I've seen in a long time, country acts included. You've got such a magnetism about you that people can't help but want to watch." You blushed a bit, alcohol and the quick comfort of him loosening your lips. "The whole water spraying trick was hot," you admit, making him blush. "And don't tell Stevie, but I think I might prefer your version of The Chain."

"Sacrilege! That's some incredibly high praise," he said, a small smile teasing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Earned and deserved," you said, tilting your glass to his. "Honestly, Harry, you're an incredible musician. There aren't many out there that have the whole package like that."

"What about you? You seem like the whole package."

"I don't know if I'd say that. If you looked me up, you've likely seen what they say about me. 'My attitude won't get me far' and all. But I don't think it's my attitude, so much as it is my willingness to take the risks that others won't. I'm not out here to make music that's just there to be sold. Hell, I couldn't care less about the money. All I want is to create music that makes me feel fulfilled, and I think that honesty scares them." You twirled your finger in the condensation of the glass in front of you. You glanced up to his face finding his eyes already on yours, holding your gaze steadily. "It doesn't scare you, does it?"

"It's the most refreshing thing I've heard in a while. Not many people in the industry are fearless in the face of failure like that."

"I'm definitely not fearless; I just refuse to change who I am to make a buck."

"Who are you then?" Harry had asked, and telling him your story was easy. You couldn't understand how it was so natural, opening up to a stranger, but as the conversation wore on, you realized how similar you and Harry were in terms of the way you conducted your professional lives and that was without apology. 

And you also realized, as the evening continued and you and Harry crept your bar stools closer and closer to one another, feet and knees bumping, his fingers tracing the ridges of your knuckles as you shared life stories like long lost friends, that you didn't want it to end. 

///

"He's acting like a gentleman," you continue, changing up the lyrics slightly as you finish the first verse. The line always made you smile and you let yourself briefly flash back into your reminiscing about the night you'd met Harry, and how, even though he had acted gentlemanly upon dropping you off for the evening, you wanted to be anything but a gentlewoman. 

///

After enjoying drinks late into the evening at Pecker's, Harry had insisted on having his driver take you home rather than allowing you to call an Uber. 

"Such a gentleman," you commented as he opened the car door for you once again. 

"Maybe my gentlemanly actions have motives," he said, sliding his hand along your lower back as you step past him and into the car. Your grin matched his smirk as he shut the door and you decided that he'd been right - not calling an Uber was the right thing to do.

The car ride back to your apartment building was too quick and before you knew it, he was at your door again, offering a hand for you to hold for balance as you exited the car. Neither of you let go as you walked through the lobby towards the elevators. 

"You're uh— You're welcome to come up, if you'd like," you said, suddenly shy but not wanting to chicken out on asking for what you wanted, asking for some continuation of this sweet but likely brief meeting between you two. "For a drink, I mean, or to keep chatting, you know."

Harry smiled and glanced around the empty lobby. His hand in yours smoothed up the length of your arm, over your shoulder, and came to rest at your jaw. "I'd love to, believe me. You have no idea how much I want to." He leaned towards you, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead and your skin burned at the contact of his lips. "But I want to do this the right way. Don't want you to get the wrong idea of me."

"What if I want the wrong idea of you?"

He laughed, the sound open and honest and it had given you hope. "You called me a gentleman earlier and I have to admit that I liked it, coming from you. Would like to keep up the facade that I am, even if it's just for a bit." His face searched yours, each of you trying to read the thoughts that were flying through one another's minds. "You have beautiful lips," he whispered suddenly, his accent thicker than it had been all night. 

Your mouth quirked into a smile, unable to do anything but preen at his compliment. "You do too," you replied, just as softly. 

"Can I kiss you?"

"Please, yes." Before the words had settled he was kissing you, slowly and with too much care, like you would break if he wasn't gentle enough. It was over much too quick but you knew you would remember every moment of it for the rest of your life. 

"Christ, I'd wanted to do that all night." His thumb smoothed over your cheekbone, smiling when you leaned into the touch. He glanced up as the elevator doors swung open and gently nudged you towards them. "Thank you, truly, for a wonderful evening. I promise to give you a call soon."

"I'll send Kacey after you if you don't!" you laughed, stepping into the lift.

"Good night darling." He winked and the doors slid shut, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the delicious ghost of his lips on yours. 

///

"Give me that adrenaline, that adrenaline, think I'm gonna stick with you," you finish the first verse as Ryann rips through the chords on her guitar. You loved that the song built slowly, and even though that meant a quieter beginning, it promised an explosive end. 

Though the crowd had been hesitant at first, you can see that the first few rows of them are nodding along, countless phones out recording the performance. You know that somewhere out there at your request is a member of your press team, professionally filming the cover. You may only be doing it once, but you were determined to make sure you would never forget it.

///

You had enough time at home to check some of your social media accounts, shower and get comfortable in bed before your phone rang again. For the second time that day, your heart soared seeing Harry's name light up your screen.

"If you're going to say that you're downstairs because you've reconsidered my offer for that nightcap, I'll need a few moments to prepare as I'm currently in my pajamas," you said as a greeting and you were met with his warm laughter once again.

"No, no, I had to go back to the arena for a bit anyways, pack up and all of that," he said, still chuckling. "I just— I wanted to make sure you weren't offended by me declining your offer. Because I wanted to— I didn't want the night to end there. There's something about you that's… Transfixing. And I don't want to ruin that and make you think you're just a fling."

"That's quite a compliment," you said, a bit awed by his words.

"What was it you said earlier, "earned and deserved", yeah?" He said, quoting your toast to him at the bar, making you grin. "I want you to be more than that. I'd like to get to know you, the gentlemanly way."

"Okay. Will we have a chaperone at our next date then?" He laughed but didn't correct your referral to that evening as a date. You had snuggled a bit deeper into the sheets, still disbelieving that all of this had been the result of being dragged along to a concert. 

"No chaperones," he chuckled, "but yes, I do want to take you out again, if you'd let me."

"Hmm," you jokingly pondered aloud, as if answering with anything other than a resounding "yes" was on your mind. "I suppose I could fit something into my schedule."

"I hope that's a yes."

"Of course it's a yes! I didn't want the night to end either. And don't you dare say that you just did another fist pump," you had laughed, hearing the familiar shuffling of the phone on his end of the line.

"Me? Never!"

"You're adorable," you had said, a smile stuck on your face.

"And you're beautiful. Two can play this game."

There had been a comforting silence between you for a moment before you had spoken up again. "Harry?"

"Yeah, love?"

You had blushed at the pet name but loved the way it sounded being directed your way. "Thank you," you had whispered. 

"Should be me thanking you. Sleep well sweetheart." You'd fallen asleep with your phone in hand, hopeful that you wouldn't wake up the next morning to realize it had all been a dream.

/// 

It hadn't been a dream, and here you were, nearly two years later, performing one of the songs that Harry himself had sung the night that you'd begun falling for him.

The second verse continued quickly and you let the lyrics wash over you as you sang, loving the way the rock energy of the song sounded with a bit of your band's country influence. 

"Here to take my medicine, take my medicine, rest it on your fingertips," you sang, holding your pointer finger in the air much like Harry did every time he performed the song before bringing it to your lips as you sang the next line. "Up to your mouth, feeling it out, feeling it out."

/// 

Beginning to date Harry - properly date him too, not just make FaceTime calls to one another from across the world and sending texts back and forth until the wee hours of the morning thanks to the differences in time zones, sharing everything and more with one another as best you could digitally - had been the most exhilarating experience of your life, and you had performed in front of sold out crowds and accepted awards on live television. His tour was due to stretch on for almost another month throughout North America and the next time you saw him was when you'd been invited as Harry's guest to his show in Chicago just a few weeks after you'd met. 

While he had put on an incredible show for the United Center, there had been moments that felt like he was performing just for you, glancing over to where you stood in the Friends and Family area, meeting your eyes and grinning. By that point, you could sing along to every song of his and you knew he loved it, loved watching you dance along to the music that he had created and was performing. 

In a moment where you were thankful for the differences between the genres in which you two performed, you hadn't been recognized at all by his fans. You'd both talked about wanting to keep things quiet as you got to know one another, and you hadn't wanted a relationship with him, an already incredibly famous artist, to somehow influence the trajectory of yours. While it had been easy when you were apart, being together without seemingly being together was difficult. Especially in that moment, when all you wanted to do was curl up into him and soak in the post-show bliss with him. Instead, you sat on the couch with him, a cushion apart from one another, holding his hand tightly while you chatted about the concert. 

"Someone is gonna notice that you looked to my side of the pit constantly all night," you said and he grinned guiltily. 

"I like knowing you're in the crowd," he shrugged. "Besides," he scooted closer and threw his arm around you before dragging you in close, "you look incredible, how could I not want to stare at you all night?"

"Anyone could walk in," you pointed out, watching as his eyes followed your lips. 

"Just want a little taste," he said, moving in closer, "Haven't I earned a kiss from my girlfriend after all of that work up on stage?"

Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you looked at him and he seemingly realized his slip-up. 

"I mean— What I meant was— Shit," he scrubbed a hand over his face but you could tell he was hiding a grin. "Wasn't exactly how I wanted to ask you, but… Will you officially be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, H. I'm all yours."

"Love it when you call me H." He pulled you in for a kiss that you both lost yourselves in, finally able to experience the feeling of one another after being denied it for so long. When a knock at the dressing room door came, Harry had to all but drag himself away from you, hair disheveled and lips swollen, scowling at the door. 

You threw your head back and laughed as he stalked over and pulled it open with a flourish. 

"What?"

"The hell's your issue?" you heard Mitch ask before Harry widened the door so he could see you laughing on the couch. You raised a hand in greeting and Harry's scowl deepened as Mitch chuckled, taking in both of your disheveled appearances. "Oh, shit, hey, sorry. Uh, car's ready when you are. See you tomorrow bud." 

"Harry!" you chided once he'd closed the door in Mitch's face, giggles still bubbling out of your mouth. "He was just being polite."

"Interrupting arse is what he is," Harry said, sitting down and pulling you into his lap. "Where were we?"

You threw your arms around his neck and pressed your body as close to his as possible, hoping that he'd thought to lock the door before returning to your embrace. "Right about here, I think." With a hand on your hip, sliding under your shirt to reach warm skin and one at the back of your neck, Harry kissed you until you were breathless and not only wanting more but very seriously needing it. 

"Come back to the hotel with me," he murmured against your lips as you ground your body down on him, reveling in the way the action made him throw his head against the back of the couch and exhale sharply. 

"You sure?" Your hands smoothed over the chest of his skin, tracing the dark swallows with your fingertips as you rolled your hips. 

He shuddered at the light touch and gripped your hips tightly, pressing his up as you pressed yours down and the action made you sigh, the pressure a delicious tease of what was hopefully to come. "Absolutely," he said, his grin telling you he was pleased with the noises he was causing you to make. "Want you so bad, like I won't be able to breathe right until I properly have you."

You leaned in to kiss at his neck, his shower-damp curls tickling your cheek. "The feeling is mutual. Adored watching you up on stage tonight. Have I told you yet how much I love seeing you perform?" You nuzzle at his neck, urging him to tilt his head back farther, exposing more of his skin to you. 

"Yeah, you have, but tell me again," he sighed, his hands running up and down your back. 

"It's like when you get on stage no one else before or after you matters," you said honestly, letting your lips against his skin hide how truthful you were really being, spilling all of your thoughts about seeing Harry up on stage. It was scary, feeling so deeply for him already. But you wanted him to know, at least in part, what it meant to be able to watch him perform. "Something about your live voice just makes my breath catch in my throat, I can't get enough of it."

Harry breathed deeply for a moment, working to center himself while you nosed at the curls around his ear and heaped praise upon him. 

"It's like you connect with every person out in the crowd, like you're singing just for them. You can tell that you're having fun and people want to join you in that. They know you love the attention," you whispered and he hummed in appreciation (or agreement), the sound low in his throat. "They'd stay out there all night for if they could, screaming about how much they love you."

"And you feed into it, playing it up for them. You know exactly what you're doing when you get to act a little bit naughty up there, driving them all mad," you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and you could hear and feel the sound rumble through him. "Played it up for you tonight. Did it work?" 

"You mean did it make me want to jump your bones the second you came off stage? Yeah, it worked."

"Fucking hell," he said, holding you close with his hands on your butt as he stood up. "Our first time is not going to be in a dressing room so we need to go now."

He let you slide down his body and held you steady as you balanced on your legs. "Would be pretty fitting though, don't you think, given how we met and what we do?"

"Yeah, but then I'd think about it every time I was in one. You wanna torture me relentlessly?" He pulled you tight against him, kissing you once more before separating to grab his bags. 

"Yeah, relentless torture sounds like something I might be into." 

He glanced up at your words, eyes dark and hungry, a smirk on his lips. "Careful what you wish for, love." 

///

The bass line increased behind the riff of Ryann's guitar and you leaned into the mic stand, eyes closing as you continued singing the first bridge. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm wasted, and when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

There were a few fans of yours and Harry's who apparently knew the words as they helped you out, screaming the unwritten word that finished the sentence: "tasted."

///

Harry was quick to say goodbye to everyone on the team before pulling you quickly through back hallways and down quiet staircases, sneaking quick kisses when he was sure there was no one around. You were both out of breath when you finally climbed into the car, grinning like kids getting away with sneaking around. 

The hotel ride was quick, mercifully, but Harry had been anything but patient, his hand at your knee creeping up slowly, closer and closer to the hem of your dress, toying with the hem while he chatted with the driver. 

"I'm gonna head in first with Martin and Eric will loop around and drop you off at the side entrance. I would wait in the lobby for you but this hotel hasn't been the best in the past with uh— containing sensitive information, we'll say, so Martin will meet you on your floor to get your stuff, then bring you up. Is that okay?"

"You sound like you've done this before, Styles," you said with a wink, using humor to cover the nerves that had settled in the pit of your stomach. 

He blushed and you loved knowing you got under his skin so easily. "The band used to stay here when we toured… and I was young and dumb once, yes."

"Just giving you a hard time, H."

His grin stretched as he leaned over to peck your lips once more. "See you in a minute, love."

Harry climbed out and the driver took off once again, slowly circling the block. "He's quite taken with you, you know," he said, glancing up in the rear view mirror as he parked the car at the curb. He got out and opened the door for you in the empty street then used his keycard to unlock the heavy side door of the hotel.

"Thank you," you said, both for his actions and his omission about Harry. Sure, you had talked to him as often as possible over the last weeks and had yourself been on the receiving end of his attention, but it felt validating to hear that Harry's feelings for you may have gone a bit farther than just a small crush if people around him had also noticed his behavior. 

Harry's bodyguard was waiting by the elevators and escorted you to your room to gather your luggage, then led you to Harry's door.

"Car'll be around about 9 tomorrow morning, H. Flight's at 10:30." He turned to you. "I understand you have business to continue here in Chicago?"

"Yes, meetings tomorrow and then I fly back to Nashville in the evening."

"There'll be a driver ready for you tomorrow as well. He's been instructed to take you wherever you need to go and he'll stay until you depart. Have a nice evening," he nodded at Harry, who was smiling in the doorway, before departing.

"You didn't have to do that for me, I could've managed by getting an Uber," you said, stepping into the room past Harry to set your bags down and kick your shoes off. 

"I didn't, was Martin's idea; says he doesn't want anything to happen to the one thing that's made me so happy these last few weeks."

"Oh yeah? I'm the one thing, huh?"

"You're everything, honestly," he replied a bit sheepishly, taking your hands in his. "Think I might like you a bit more than I already should. Lettin' my heart get a bit ahead of my head, I suppose."

"Yeah, I know the feeling," you said softly and he beamed. 

He moved his hands up to cup your face, pulling you close for a sweet kiss that quickly turned insistent, heat rising between the two of you. Harry slid his hands under the hem of your shirt to rest where your spin ended and yours wrapped around his neck, dragging him down to you as you stepped behind you towards the bed. His long legs tangled with yours and you tumbled backwards, laughing as you hit the plush bed and Harry collapsed on top of you.

He propped himself up on his elbows and looked down at you with a smile, pushing the hair that had fallen into your face aside. "Hi baby," he said softly.

"Hi."

"Missed you," he said, leaning down for another sweet kiss. 

"We were apart for like, eight minutes," you giggled between his kisses, your laughter giving way to a sigh as he moved to press a kiss to your nose, your cheek, your chin.

"Doesn't matter," he breathed into the crook of your neck, pressing small open mouth kisses to the soft skin there, "Any time apart is too long."

"The two weeks left of the tour will fly by. You should enjoy them while you can."  

"Wish you could come with me, love performing for you." He kissed his way across the base of your neck, collarbone to collarbone as his fingers trailed to the small straps on your shoulders. "Would you like to take this off?"

"Please," you sighed, desperate and aching for the feeling of his skin against yours. 

Your first time sleeping with Harry had been exactly what you'd wanted and expected - hot and fast, admittedly over a bit more quickly than either of you had wanted, but worth the weeks of wait. 

Harry's skill set hadn't ended at singing and playing instruments. If anything, his vast experience using his hands and mouth only helped him excel in other pastimes that also utilized those parts of his body. To both of your delights, he had proven his adeptness in all areas multiple times that night, and once again in the morning before he had to rush into the shower, dragging you along with him simply to get more time together before you were forced apart once again. 

/// 

You had spent the next two months away from one another, Harry having wrapped his tour and immediately beginning work on his next album. You'd spent your own time mixed between writing and recording an upcoming single. You had already written a handful of songs that were inspired by him and you'd wondered, albeit a bit nervously, if the sentiment was shared. When he stopped in Nashville on a long layover, pushing his flight back even longer to stay with you for another night, you'd tried to pry the information out of him. Unfortunately, no amount of sexual teasing or denial had convinced him — he, however, had you singing like a canary almost immediately, teasing you in the best way about how easily you opened up for him, telling him all about the music that he had already inspired.

You had been FaceTiming him late one night weeks later, both tired from long days spent in the studio. He had suddenly gotten shy, biting at the skin around his fingernails. 

"Hey, stop that. What's the matter H?"

"Wanna ask you something," he mumbled, but a smile was peeking through where his fingers were still at his lips. "Jus' don't know how to."

"Baby," you sighed, "you can ask me anything. Y'know that." 

"I know, I know." He paused and took a deep breath before a wide smile stretched across his face. "Would you maybe want to come home with me this Christmas? To London? Wouldn't be for long, maybe just a couple nights, I just wanna introduce you to my mum already, she's been pestering me nonstop lately 'bout meetin' you and Gem's joined in on it now too, so it's two against one when they call and I've told them that—"

"Harry," you said chucking, trying to interrupt his nervous rambling.

"—and she actually called me Harold last time she told me to bring you 'round and that got me a bit worried so I—"

"Harry! Of course I'll come with you. I'd absolutely love to."

You met him at the airport weeks later, desperate to pull him close and kiss him silly in the confines of his darkly tinted car, but you refrained, knowing how seriously Harry took the protection of your relationship from the press. You may not have been able to see anyone straining to capture pictures of you two, but you knew there was always the chance. 

It was an entirely different story, however, when he'd finally pulled the car past the mechanical gate and into his private drive. You both reached for each other immediately, arms tangled and shifter knob pressed uncomfortably against your side, but perfectly content so long as his lips were against yours. 

"Fuck— I missed you— so much," he muttered between kisses. He pulled away, forehead resting against yours, sly smirk pulling at his lips. "Mum won't expect us for a few hours at least."

"What is it that you're insinuating, Mr. Styles?"

"That there's plenty of time to give you a tour around the house, that's all," he said innocently. He gave you a sweet smile before hopping out of the car and coming to the passenger side where he helped you out and picked up your bags.

You were eager to be given a house tour, more than keen to learn all of the things you could about his London life. The house was decorated in a way that made you smile - eclectic but with a definitive air of cohesive taste. It suited Harry to an absolute tee. From the artwork that decorated the walls to the mismatched but homey furniture, you could tell immediately that this was Harry's sanctuary - every inch of the home screamed his name. 

"It's incredible," you said as he led you into the largest room, the master. He walked over to the dresser that sat under the window and pulled open the top two drawers. 

"I know we won't be here long, this time around, but I cleaned out a few drawers for you here, if you want to unpack some things. And there's space in the closet for you too," he nodded towards the door on the other side of the room, dragging a hand through his hair as he talked, "I had too much in there anyways and some of it needed to go and I wanted you to be able to leave some things, if you felt comfortable, of if Mum drags us out shopping and you don't want to take it all home now you can leave it here and-"

"You- you cleared out a drawer for me?"

"Well, yeah," he said, resting his hand on the back of his neck. "Made some space for you in the bathroom too, though I doubt it'll be enough, with all that you bring along to fix yourself up." He paused and thought for a moment. "I know how our lives are. I just wanted you to have some of your own space here; want you to feel as comfortable in my home as I do. Is that too much?" 

"H," you said with a sigh, your lips curling into a smile, "it's perfect, and so thoughtful. I'm sorry I haven't done the same for you in Nashville yet."

"'s alright, love. I've already got a toothbrush there at least. I can take some time when we fly back to come and help if you'd like me to. As long as you don't end up wearing all the clothes that I leave there," he chuckled.

"You know me too well," you said, reaching for his hand. He lifted your entwined fingers to his lips to brush a kiss over your knuckles.

"You do look good in my clothes," he confessed, pulling you close to face him. "Look good in my house. But you always look good anyways."

"Said the pot to the kettle," you said with a smile. "I like being here already," you shrug, hands resting on his shoulders. "It feels like you, like home. Thank you for inviting me," you add, as though the measly voicing of your appreciation is enough to convey what you truly feel. 

"You're welcome anytime, if I'm here or not."

"You trust me that much?"

"Yeah, I do. I'll get you a key and everything." He leaned down to kiss you slowly, relearning the map of your lips and mouth, before pulling away. He laughed when you made a noise of protest.

"The bathroom's over here if you'd like to freshen up." He had pulled at your hand, stepping towards the other open door in the room. "Figured a shower might sound nice after a long day in an airplane. Besides, I've gotta clean up before we go to Mum's anyways."

"Gonna join me?" 

"Yeah, thought I might, if that's okay." His smirk had been wicked as he pushed you the rest of the way into the bathroom. He dropped your hand to reach for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head quickly. As he reached for the buckle of his pants, he had met your staring eyes. "See something you like, love?"

You definitely had, though you didn't think your attraction — physically or emotionally — for Harry had stopped at something that was as weak as "like." Getting to know him over the last six months had made you worry that there wasn't ever going to be anyone else like him, anyone that made you feel like he did. You had fallen for him, desperately hard, and the realization of it as you stood in front of his half-naked self almost embarrassed you. 

"Babe? You alright?" he asked as he stripped down to his boxers. 

"Yeah, you just got me all distracted," you had grinned, pulling your sweatshirt and remaining clothes off quickly before joining Harry under the warm spray of the water.

Meeting Harry's mom that evening went better than you could've ever dreamt it would. The two of you got on like old friends, and Harry had stared, almost in wonder, at how easily you seemed to bond with her. And then he had stared in horror as Anne offered to pull out the photo albums filled with pictures from Harry's childhood, particularly when Anne offered up the album filled with photos from Harry's and Gemma's emo phases. 

As the evening wore on, you caught Harry on more than one occasion glancing your way, cheeks bright from the red wine he was sipping on and eyes warmly reflecting the bright Christmas lights. He always looked like he was a split second away from saying something, only to shake his head and look away with a small smile. 

Later, in bed, Harry pulled you close to him. He was laying on his back, you on your side, and you threw a leg over his waist, soaking in all of the cuddles you could get on this short trip together. The room was only illuminated by the ambient light coming in through the blinds. 

"Mum liked you a lot," he murmured, gently stroking the skin at the base of your spine, "said I should hang onto you". 

You returned the gesture, running your fingertips along the lines of ink that make up his many tattoos. "I liked her too. She's wonderful, I see where you get it from now."

"Hey now, 'm wonderful all on my own!" He tickled your side and you couldn"t help but arch towards him, shrieking and laughing at the touch. 

"Stop that! You are an absolute pest, you know that?" you said, grinning up at him.

"Ah, you love me," he whispered, and his joking tone made you smile but the way he pulled you tighter as he said it made you brave. 

You let the weight what you were about to say wash over you, aware that things were going to change forever with just a few words. "I do love you, Harry," you whispered, moving up his body to press a kiss to his lips.

"Thank God," he had said, wrapping his arms back around you and pulling you on top of him. "Cause I love you too."

Leaving Harry after that had been even more difficult. All you wanted to do was be with him, but you had too much coming up with the future release of your album and Harry was still in the midst of doing his own writing and recording. 

It was your professions, along with the desire to keep your relationship private, that kept you apart. You weren't sure how you did it, but your relationship had withstood the distance and odd-hours. The only step now would be deciding if, when, and how to confirm the suspicions to tabloids and fans alike that you were an item.

The wait was killing you. All you wanted was to show off to the world that Harry was yours.

///

The bridge of the song was followed quickly by the chorus and the heavy guitar and pounding drums had you rocking on your feet, body swaying into the mic stand as you let yourself get lost in the lyrics. "If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive."

The crowd was even more into the song now, many picking up on the words quickly and screaming them along with your singing. The rock and roll vibe of the song was coursing through you and the crowd, the arena electric with energy already. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it."

You remove the mic from the stand and dance towards one end of the stage, singing as you move to the beat. "We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

///

You had been on the phone with Harry one day in July, nearly five months after the release of your album, having him help you decide what the setlist of your tour would be when it began in November. 

"I wish I could cover one of your songs."

He had laughed and slurped his tea, the sounds comforting to you, even over the phone. "That'd be a bit obvious, wouldn't it love?"

"I don't mean cover Golden or Kiwi," you said, tapping your pen against the pad of paper in front of you. "What about one you wrote for 1D? What about Perfect? Or Stockholm Syndrome! That was always one of my favorites."

"Getting permission on those might be a bit more difficult, s'not just me that's gotta sign off on it. Besides, do you really wanna be the artist that covers a One Direction song on her own headlining tour?"

"Guess I'll stick with singing along to them in the shower then."

You were both quiet for a moment, lost in your own thoughts. 

"What if I covered Medicine?" you asked suddenly, realizing it was the perfect compromise, not to mention your favorite song that Harry himself performed oh his own tour. The rock sound wasn't a far cry from the roots that country music had and you knew it would sound great. "Even if it was just for one stop!"

"Hmm," Harry mused. "It would sound great with the band, I'll give you that. But videos will go around, people will know it's my song you're singing and they'll connect the dots about us."

"H, I'm ready for that if you are. I love you, and I'm ready to be able to share that love that I have for you with the world. Sneaking around has been fun but I want people to know how proud of you I am and how much you're loved and appreciated. Half of our fans know already, it's just a matter of us confirming it. I think that we could really-"

Harry was laughing at your rambling on the other end of the line. "Alright, alright, you drive a hard bargain, love. I think you're right, maybe it is time we stopped sneaking around. I'll try, but Jax and everyone else still have to agree to it too. It might be easier to convince everyone if it's just a one time thing. Pick another cover, something you'd normally do, in case it takes some time to work things out."

"I'll ask him right now! Thank you Harry!"

"I just have one condition," he said, and you could hear the grin that was surely pulling at the corners of his lips. 

"What's that?"

"I get to perform it with you," he had said, and the smile already on your face widened exponentially. "If we're finally gonna make "us" public, may as well do it with a bang."

///

In the moment after the chorus, an 8 count beat is carried by the drummer and guitarist. For this performance, and the only performance you'd put on of this song, you had rehearsed the 8 count repeating once between the chorus and the next verse, as you needed a bit of extra time to announce your guest performer. 

"Ladies and gentlemen," you shout into the mic, grin wide and face beaming already at what was about to take place. "To help me finish this performance, please help me welcome my very good friend, Harry Styles!"

Harry emerges from behind the stage holding his own wireless mic as much of the crowd screams - he may not be a country artist, but he was absolutely known worldwide. You step back with a wave of your arm, smiling as he begins the next chorus. His performance is for the crowd but he's singing the words directly to you. 

"Tingle running through my bones, fingers to my toes, tingle running through my bones," he sings, voice smooth like whiskey, and the crowd adores him, eating out of the palm of his hand. "The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with them, and I'm OK with it." 

You can't help but dance as he sings, his voice and the energy of the crowd propelling you to move. He watches you, eyes no longer on the crowd, as he sings the next lines. Immediately, heat pools low in your belly at his glance and the words. 

"I'm coming down, I figured out I kinda like it. And when I sleep I'm gonna dream of how you…"

You gyrate your hips at the unsung line of "ride it", listening with a sly grin as some in the crowd scream the two words that go unsung. 

///

After giving him a key, Harry had moved some of his clothes to your apartment in Nashville some time while you were away on the first leg of your tour. He had found the city to be incredibly welcoming and inspirational for his upcoming album and had decided to stay there for a spell while you continued to tour around the country. 

You had scheduled a short break between your concerts over New Years, wanting to be able to grab at least one or two nights at home with him to celebrate the holiday before you were back on the road again. 

"So fucking glad you're home," Harry panted, pulling your shirt over your head before attaching his lips to yours once again. "Missed you like crazy."

"Missed you too," you moaned as his lips moved downwards, across your neck and over your collarbones, down the valley between your breasts. Before he could reach around to unhook your bra, you reached for his shirt, as desperate as he was to see and touch what you'd been missing. 

As he pulled the half-unbuttoned blouse over his head, you pulled your leggings off and reached for him, pushing him back onto the bed behind him. He unbuttoned his pants as he scooted up towards the middle of the bed, shoving them and his boxers off in one swoop. 

You climbed on top of him, hurriedly reaching to kiss him as you rubbed your clothed center along the length of his hard cock. 

"Fuck," he hissed, throwing his head back to allow you room to kiss his neck. "Desperate aren't you, darling?"

"Want you so bad it hurts," you whispered, sucking a bright hickey right where it would absolutely be seen by anyone.

You moved to continue kissing down his chest but he stopped you with a hand under your arm. "Not gonna last long, love. Wanna be inside you."

His cheeks and chest were flushed bright red, lips puffy and pupils blown wide. This was when you loved him most, being able to have him like no one else did. The same feeling always hit you at certain moments, particularly ones of domesticity, like when you watched him back the car out of the driveway or when he stood in the kitchen in the morning in nothing but socks, boxers, and his ratty old robe, singing along to old big band jazz as he waited for the coffee to brew. There was Harry Styles the musician, Harry Styles the actor, and Harry Styles the performer, but then there was your Harry. 

"Yeah, okay," you sighed, moving off of him quickly to remove your bra and panties. You climbed back onto the bed and threw your leg over his hips, straddling him. He immediately reached for you and pulled you flush against his chest, his lips capturing yours in a bruising kiss. 

You rocked your hips against him as he held you, your slick arousal gliding along his length, drawing a moan from both of you. 

"Baby, please," he panted, and you could only mod in agreement, lost already to the sweeping feeling of your close release. 

His hands rested on your hips as you positioned him at the entrance between your legs. You groaned in harmony as you worked down him slowly, the only sound in the room was your shared heavy breathing and gasps. 

"Fuck me," he sighed as you set a slow pace, rocking on top of him to reach each spot that you know will get you there. 

"Workin' on it," you grin. A quick swivel of your hips hit at just the right angle and you tossed your head back, repeating the movement over and over again until you shuddered with a final snap of tension, your orgasm rolling over you as Harry helped you move, hands tight on your hips, to wring all you could from the release. 

"You look so beautiful right now, like a fuckin' angel," Harry said, voice low and gravely, accent thick with need. 

"How's that line go?" you said as you slowed down, smirking when a harsh rock of your hips caused Harry to moan. "'Turns out she's a devil in between the sheets'?"

"Fuck," he groaned again, eyes closed tightly. "Can't just go reciting my own lyrics to me while I"m buried in ya like this, love."

"And there's nothing you can do about it," you continued, singing the line of his song this time, and his hips buck up into yours harshly.

"You're gonna pay for that," he had said, quoting another of his songs, before he had flipped you over onto your back and set his own brutal pace.

///

Like he can read your thoughts, Harry beams and wags a finger in your direction and the crowd screams at your chemistry together. You grab your mic from its stand and take a step towards Harry to sing the chorus together.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive." Harry dances off to the side of the stage, performing once again for the crowd. 

You dance at center stage with your wireless mic, too excited about performing with Harry that you can't stand in one spot. The music and Harry's energy make you want to move. "You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it." 

"We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh! La da da da da!" Harry throws his head back, singing along in his own world and you can't look away from him. He really was a rockstar and getting to share the stage with him like this was an experience you'd never forget. 

"You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

There's a great pause in the lyrics where the guitar, keyboard, and drums play together, increasing the tension of the song. You and Harry take off towards opposite ends of the stage, both reveling in the performance for the crowd as you dance and stomp to the beat. Eventually, with a slide down the keys of the keyboard, the instrumental quiets into just the steady beat of the bass line joined by the hi-hats. 

You and Harry urge the crowd to clap along as you both return to the middle of the stage to sing together once again. He always said that this portion of the song was one of his favorites to perform, the repeated line from the bridge ending abruptly with the lights going out before flashing back on, the added theatrics of the performance elevating the climax of the song completely. Having rehearsed that Harry would sing the following chorus alone, you let yourself get lost in his gaze as it settles on you.

You stand facing one another behind the mic stand, once again singing more to one another rather than to the crowd. You step closer towards him as the lyrics progress, nearly chest to chest now with your voices sharing one another's mics. "I had a few, got drunk on you and now I'm—"

Before you can sing the last word of the line and the lights can blink out as rehearsed, Harry leans forwards and captures your mouth in a hungry kiss. The crowd erupts with screams as the lights above the stage go dark.

You can feel rather than hear him say the words "I love you" against your lips and you have just enough time to repeat them back to him before the drums and guitar pick the beat up once again, the lights flashing back on brightly. He moves away and continues to sing the chorus that follows as if nothing had happened. You're a bit stunned, not having prepared for his relationship-revealing public display of affection to happen during your performance of his song but it was perfect and he knows it. Your smile is wide and you can't help but stand rooted where you are and laugh at what has just finally happened.

"If you go out tonight, I'm going out 'cause I know you're persuasive," he sings, smirking at you while you blush across from him. 

You join him in singing the last lines, your right hand joining his left hand where everyone can see your fingers entwine. 

"You got that something, I got me an appetite, now I can taste it. We're getting dizzy, oh, we're getting dizzy, oh!"

You urge the crowd with a waving hand to join in and they do, singing along with you and Harry. "La da da da da! You get me dizzy, oh, you get me dizzy, oh!"

The drums and guitar end the song on five quick beats and the crowd erupts once again in screams. You immediately jump towards Harry, throwing your arms around his neck in a close embrace. His hands wrap around your waist to hold you close, and you can feel him smile where his face is pressed close to your jaw.

"How was that?" he asks, chuckling against you.

"It was perfect, you're perfect. Thank you, H. For everything."

"Can take you on a proper date now, yeah? Wanna show my girl off to the world."

"Yes, please!" You can't wipe the smile from your face as he sets you down and Harry continues to beam at you as the crowd continues screaming, reeling from your shared performance. 

Harry nudges you gently before turning back to them, lifting his and your arms high in the air and leading you in bending for a bow. He steps away from you and turns, opening his arms wide to you for the crowd to praise and you laugh, tearing up at his gesture and the overwhelming emotions of the performance while you take another bow just for yourself. 

He pulls you into another hug and you can't help but angle your face up towards him, wordlessly asking for another very quick, very public kiss.

He glances down at you, smiling. "You're gonna love this now, aren't you?"

"Course I am. love showing them you're mine."

He leans down to peck your forehead, your nose, and finally, your lips, as the crowd goes wild. "Love showing them you're mine. You've got a show to finish, love. Go kill it."

///

Ahh! So much fun! This has been such a joy to write and I appreciate you taking the time to give it a chance! It’s my first (of hopefully many) Harry fics - reading all of the stories here has been immensely inspiring, and I’m so looking forward to writing more!

Tagging my love @morganlatte​ who is a wonderful hype woman and beta reader. Thanks buddy!

Anyways! Thank you for reading! My love language is words of affirmation (aka I have a praise kink) so leave me a comment here if you feel so inclined!

[okskz]

Chan’s Room. (pt.2)

Mia + Chan

chan invites mia back on his weekly vlives.

here’s for the anon who requested mia on chan’s room! hope you guys enjoy and please feel free to leave some feedback because it is always appreciated!

italics = english

[9th Member of Stray Kids]

“Today we have a special guest with us today. You guys have been mentioning this person for quite awhile now. And well I listened!” Chan chuckled to himself at the last part.

He looked over at Mia, smiling wide as he motioned for her to come over. She jumped into view right behind Chan and yelled out, “surprise!” wrapping her arms around Chan from behind after. “I’m back.” She laughed to herself before taking a seat right next to him.

“Yes, our lovely, Mia is back everyone.” Chan wrapped his arms around Mia’s head, bringing her in close as he began to ruffle her hair too. “Everyone has been wanting you to be in Chan’s room again.”

“How nice.” Mia giggled. “I think the last time I was here was your first year doing this?”

“Oh, so its been quite a while since you’ve been on here.”

“Yeah! Only because you failed to invite me back!” Mia turned to face the camera. “Everyone, Channie doesn’t want me on here.”

Chan let out a laugh. “Hey, untrue!” He smiled. “You just happen to always be busy, or sleeping.”

“I like to sleep.” She nodded.

Mia went closer towards the device to read some of the comments with Chan. It was a mixture of a lot of things, majority were just happy to see Mia back on Chan’s room. “Hi, everyone.” She giggled. “Mia we missed you. Oh! I missed you guys as well. Time to make this Mia’s Room.”

“Definitely not happening.”

“Shoutout to Texas, hi, Mia.” The girl gasped when reading the comment. “Texas! I miss Texas, hello to you guys!”

After a couple of more minutes of reading comments and talking to Chan, it was now time to start playing some music. And of course, Chan let Mia choose the first song to play. “You have a song in mind?” He questioned her. Mia quickly nodded her head, typing away on the keyboard to search for the song, picking Telepatía by Kali Uchis to play.

“This song has been one of my top songs I have been playing.” Mia smiled. “It has a good vibe to it. Especially when I’m listening to it while laying in bed.”

“This is a really good song, a recommendation for our Stays.”

Mia nodded her head as she smiled, Chan lowering the volume on the music.

***

“Who has been caring or looking over for you these days?” Chan questioned. They were now in the middle of conversation, taking a small break from the music.

Mia thought for a moment. “Well, all of you guys seem to always look after me in different situations, but Jisungie has been the main one.” She nodded. “Yeah, these days its been Jisung.”

“Every time he wants to go out to like the stores or to go eat, he always asks me first.”

“I’ve noticed that too.” Chan softly chuckled. “You two are always hanging out together.”

“Yes!” Mia smiled. “We always like to be with Flash. And for those who don’t know, Jisung and I have a pet guinea pig named Flash.”

“Such a cute little fella.”

“Very. I can’t believe we’ve had him for so long now. Who knew a little fur ball could bring me such joy.” She grinned.

“What made you get a guinea pig instead of a dog or something?”

Mia shrugged her shoulders. “I thought a dog in the dorms wouldn’t work out maybe, and it would be a huge responsibility. I mean a guinea pig is too but it seems a lot easier. Plus when I saw him I fell in love and needed to take him home with us.”

“He’s so tiny and cute.” Mia giggled.

Chan laughed a little as he stared at the comments. One in particular catching his eye. “Mia share a TMI.” He looked back at her, Mia raising a brow.

“TMI?” She questioned. She began to think of some things she could possibly share about herself.

“Although our Stay knows you, there’s still some things they may not know about you. You’re never one to share anything personal. Even I still learn new things about you.” Chan laughed at himself on the last sentence.

“Well I can share that I have known Minho way before debut.”

Chan snapped his finger. “Oh yeah, I remember you mentioning that. How was that? Where did you guys meet?”

Mia cleared her throat. “Storytime.” She wheezed. “Um, it was back when I had entered World of Dance Korea. Dancing has been something I’ve always been passionate about so when I saw they were wanting new dancers I decided to join. Minho had already been there before me. So I was a newbie basically.”

Chan nodded his head as he listened to Mia’s story. “Did you know the language at the time? Or were you learning Korean?”

“It was between I was learning and knowing? I guess you can say. But anyways, I remember Minho being in dance crew and I was just a soloist dancer so when it came time to perform I did a solo performance. And right when I walked off the stage, Minho approached me first and was like “wow! you really did amazing up there, are you new?””

Mia stopped letting out a small chuckle. “But then he realized I was a foreigner so began stuttering and was like “you” and then pointed at me saying “good.” With a thumbs up.” She laughed. “But he was relieved when I began speaking to him in Korean. So it all worked out in the end.”

“Did you guys see each other again after that?l

“Si, (yes).” Mia nodded. “We ended up going to the same dance studio so we saw each a lot often. He was kinda happy to see me again. And after that we became really good friends and well now we’re here. Crazy to think about really.”

“Yeah, who would of thought you guys would end up in the same group together.”

“Exactly.”

***

“We have a lot of fun stories of our predebut.”

Mia nodded her head at Chan. “Yeah, we did.”

Chan began laughing. “You and Changbin really disliked each other at the time. But not just you two, I feel like almost all of us got into arguments and such.”

Mia laughed hysterically at the thought. “Oh yeah, let me tell you about the time it was me, Changbin, Felix and Jisung.” Mia thought some more. “And Seungmin! We all went to an arcade and there was a laser tag section and the boys thought it was a good idea to put Changbin and I in one team and the rest were in their team.”

“I like where this is going.”

“Long story short I had tripped on something so obviously I fell and Changbin was right behind me-“

“Did he fall on top of you?”

“No. Even worse, Jisung was coming up to me and since I’m on the ground he thought it was a perfect opportunity to shoot at me but, Changbin literally grabbed my leg and dragged me away from Jisung. We were losing so Changbin didn’t want Jisung to get me.”

Chan let out a loud laugh, beginning to laugh hysterically. “Wait, wait. So he literally dragged you on the floor?”

“Yes!” Mia exclaimed, she started laughing when seeing Chan bounce in his seat and clapping. “He literally dragged me across that floor until we were in a hiding spot.”

“Did anyone see you two?”

“Oh my god yes. These group of people saw us and kept laughing.” Mia giggled. “And after, Jisung was telling the others and it was just a whole mess.” She shook her head. “We lost either way.”

Chan began laughing harder than usual at Mia’s predebut story, holding onto his stomach as he did so. “Remember that one time you fell off the bunk bed?”

Mia looked at Chan confused but burst into laughter once she remembered what he was talking about. “Oh yeah!” She exclaimed. “It was in the middle of the night and I had to use the bathroom but I was half asleep. So then I thought I was already at the bottom when in reality I was only halfway there so I jumped off and well... it wasn’t a pretty ending.”

The two began laughing out loud hysterically at the story. There was just too many stories to tell from their predebut. It was definitely all fun for the most part.

***

It was getting towards the end of Chan’s room when Chan was in the middle of playing one more song of Mia’s choice. The girl had chosen LMLY by Jackson Wang. “When I first heard this song, I instantly fell in love. It’s so catchy and good. Jackson really did a great job with it. I always love his music.”

“Very enjoyable to listen to, this song is great.” Chan nodded while lowering the volume on the music. He smiled as he looked at the comments, knowing what they wanted since he was going to end the live soon.

“Have you seen my rooms lately?” He questioned Mia

“Some, I saw last week’s with Jisungie and Changbin.”

“So you know what I do in the end?” He smiled while Mia nodded. “We have to give our Stays a hug.”

Mia began grinning as Chan talked. “Today you guys will be getting a hug not only from me but also from Mia.” He looked back at the girl. “First time hug from Mia!” Chan exclaimed. “You wanna do the honors and hug first?”

“Sure!” Mia stood up quickly going in to give a hug like Chan always does. She began giggling when she sat back down. “That was nice, hope you guys liked my hug.”

“A big hug from Mia and now a big hug from me.” Chan said, going in for a hug as well. He sat back down, “hope you guys enjoyed today’s live and getting to see Mia again, she will be back again, hopefully?”

“You know it!”

The two said their goodbyes before Chan ended the live completely. “Thank you for coming.” He looked back at Mia, seeing she was a bit spaced out. “Mia?”

“I just thought of something.”

“What is it?”

Mia couldn’t help but let out a small snort. “I basically put my whole boobs in front of everyone’s faces with that hug.”

[shreddedparchment]

A World of Our Own Pt.09

Paradise Lost

10/09/2020

Pairing: Bucky x Reader          Word Count: 5,013

Warnings: fluff, depression, anxiety, implied sex

A/N: Hopefully this isn’t too much of a mess. Life got me busy and I didn’t get to put this out when I wanted to. If you happen to reblog, thanks so much for helping me spread my work. xoxo

“Hello? Yes, how can I help you?” Her voice is still a bit on the nasal side, her hair an ice blonde. Her eyes are emerald green and her lips as red as a ruby.

She doesn’t seem to remember you one bit. It has been ten months and you’d only met her once.

“I’m Y/N? I have a meeting with Mr. Swan?” You muster up all your courage after that initial hesitation, intent on completing your mission.

“Oh, right. The no-show.” She gets up and gestures for you to follow.

Quickly you hurry to catch up, watching the way she swings her hips as she walks, the movement exaggerated by the tight gray pencil skirt she wears.

She’s surprisingly fast on her six-inch heels and you’re dumbfounded by the skill.

Stopping at the end of a long modern hallway with black marble walls, the secretary knocks on the pale wooden office door, waiting a moment for response.

“Come in, Kay.” A surprisingly young male voice speaks.

Kay steps in, stopping with her back against the open door as she leans her weight on the doorknob.

“The no-show is here for you.” Kay says, voice casual and relaxed despite the fact that she’s speaking to A.I.M.’s CEO.

“Oh? Hi!” He greets as you cross into view.

He’s most definitely young. Mid to late twenties. No way he’s older than thirty, with short and carefully styled brown hair, brown eyes, and browned peach skin. His chin is blanketed in rough stubble and two dimples crease his cheeks as he moves towards you with his hand extended.

“Y/N, right?” He asks and you quickly take his hand and shake it.

“Yes.” You agree. “Nice to meet you.”

“That’ll be all, Kay. Can you order my lunch for two o’clock?” He asks, releasing your hand but gesturing the red modern armchair in front of his long glass desk.

“Will do.” Kay agrees and leaves, shutting the door behind her.

Mr. Swan rounds his desk, long and lithe, moving to sit in his chair and takes a moment to breathe in and release it slowly, as if it’s the first time he’s sat down today. When he’s settled, he gives you a smile and places his hands on his lap.

“So, you’ve been out of town for ten months?” He wastes no time getting to his point. “Unfortunately, Y/N, I don’t have a position open for you. We’ve just filled all the open positions in marketing and taken on all the interns we could use.

“If you wanted the job, you should have shown up. You were hired. I can’t save your spot just because you decided to take an extended vacation.”

“I-” Your heart is pounding, your blood boiling. There’s a buzzing in your head because you know you can’t say what you want to. You can’t tell him that you were stranded on an island with Bucky because it’s a secret. Not that he was stranded, but that you were there.

“I’m sorry to waste your time. Really. If you’d like to reapply, we’ll keep your application on file and should a spot open up, we’ll keep you in mind.” Mr. Swan assures you.

“Mr. Swan,” You begin, forcing yourself to give him a smile. Tight and humorless, it’s more a desperate gesture than anything else. “I didn’t extend my vacation, there were problems with my passport and travel visas. I was stuck in an airport for several weeks before they put me up in a hotel until they could figure out what the problem was.

“I-I’m not asking you to give me the same position. I know that I’ve lost the chance for that, but if you could give me a job anywhere in your company, I can research my butt off.” You say rashly. “I’m not an idiot. Research and Development would be a good fit too, or maybe consumer research?”

“I’m sorry.” He shakes his head, “I don’t have anything for you. Begging for a job won’t get you one.”

“Mr. Swan-”

“Look, I have a lot of work to do. A company to run. And I’ve given you my answer.” Mr. Swan rises, reaching to refasten the button on his suit jacket. “If you don’t mind? I humored you because Pepper gave me a call to hear you out, but I’ll have to be more wary granting favors for friends. If you’ll excuse me?”

You don’t even have the chance to get up before he’s moving around to the door. He opens it up and leaves, disappearing to the right.

A moment later, Kay moves in and stops when she sees you.

“Oh, you’re still here? You should leave before he comes back. He’s an asshole but that was him being nice.” She explains, moving to his desk to drop off a thick yellow notebook.

When she turns, she stops by the end of the desk, looking at you pointedly.

You get up without word, moving out of the office feeling like there’s fire in your veins.

Loading the elevator, you turn and press the ground floor button. The cold air that blows from the ceiling sends a chill down your spine and it’s the push you need to knock you out of your daze.

As the doors shut and Kay takes her seat behind her desk, your rage overflows into one loud exclamation of, “Fuck!”

~~~~~~~~~~

“How long is this gonna take?” Bucky wonders, turning to Sam who sits beside him, relaxed as he lounges in his seat.

Bucky isn’t so unconcerned, sitting straight with one hand on his bouncing leg and the other balled into a fist on the table.

“I’m sorry, Sergeant Barnes, do you have somewhere else you need to be?” Fury asks, strutting towards them before stopping at the head of the table.

“Yes.” Bucky says, no fear or regret in his voice. “Y/N had a meeting with the head of A.I.M. today, to see if she could possibly get her job back.”

“Guess the money in her bank isn’t enough incentive to stop working?” Sam guesses.

Bucky shakes his head. “She wants to get back to normal if she can. We both do. But she’s having a harder time than I am. This means a lot to her.”

“Unfortunately for you and Miss Y/L/N, I’m afraid Augustus Swan is a grade A asshole. I don’t think she’s going to come away from that meeting happy.” Fury says, pulling out his own chair to sit.

“Then we need to make this quick.” Bucky nods, leaning both elbows on the table.

“I’ll dictate how long this debriefing will run, Sergeant Barnes. Rush me and I’ll keep you here all night.” Fury threatens.

As Bucky frowns, ready to argue, Sam meets his eyes and as he swings his chair around to face him, he shakes his head to calm him and then swings it back to face Fury.

“What do you wanna know?” Bucky sighs, leaning back once again, defeated by Fury’s iron stare.

“Well, for starters, when did you notice that things weren’t exactly right on that plane?”

~~~~~~~~~~

“You were lucky.” Sam admits, walking beside Bucky at a casual pace despite Bucky’s desire to be with you already. “If that stewardess hadn’t moved you and your Mrs. to the front of the plane, you’d both be dead.”

“Yeah.” Bucky agrees, wringing his hands with anxiety. “Were you able to find him? The stewardess’s husband and son?”

“In Texas. They were in contact with the airline but even the airline didn’t know what happened so, Ross filled in the blanks without actually owning up to the responsibility of it. Blamed it on malfunctioning engines.

“They didn’t take it so well. They’ve been paid off, but that hardly makes up for the years that kid is going to live without his mother.” Sam grieves, feeling for the family.

“I’m glad they at least know.” Bucky admits. “Y/N will be glad to know they’re able to mourn her properly. She won’t be happy but at least her heart will ache a little less.”

“She’s a good woman, Bucky.” Sam reaches over, clapping his partner once on the shoulder. “But she’s got you wrapped around her little finger.”

Bucky’s mouth turns into a small hesitant smile, shaking his head.

“Like, she’s got you whipped, dude. Whipped!”

As Sam laughs, Bucky follows, relaxing a little and grateful for the levity.

“You say that like it’s bad thing.” Bucky throws at him, but Sam takes his hand back and gestures his denial animatedly.

“No, I never said that. Honestly, anyone who says being whipped is a bad thing obviously never got it right.” Sam shrugs.

“You sound like you know what you’re talking about.” Bucky pretends to be thoughtful. “How’s that possible when you’re single as hell?”

Sam stops walking, fixing Bucky with a glare before he nods, looking betrayed.

“Alright, I see how it is. Don’t forget I owe you a tracking chip, Barnes. I will literally implant one in your ass.” Sam threatens, but Bucky can only laugh as he stops to look back at him.

Sam smiles, and for a moment Bucky can swear he looks almost grateful to have him back. Although he’s opted to take a break, a long one so that he can build a life with you before he goes back to work, he suddenly feels eager to return and really get to know his new partner.

“Will you come over for dinner next week? Once we’ve had a chance to settle in?” Bucky takes a step towards the three-story townhouse, a lovely pale sandstone exterior with dark gray highlights around the windows and teal front door.

You’d chosen the color specifically and though you didn’t explain it, he knows you’d picked it because it reminded you of the waters around the island.

You had loved your morning swims. It’s only natural that you miss the water if not the isolation. And yet, now that you’ve both been back, he sees you timidity as you walk out into the world and it makes his heart ache.

“Depends.” Sam quips, “You cookin’? I don’t wanna get food poisoning.”

Bucky shakes his head, smiling. “No. Y/N will be cooking. She’s got it all planned and the menu all thought up. She’s pretty excited about having you over actually.”

“Then I’ll definitely be there. Tell her I’m looking forward to it and I hope things are okay with A.I.M.” Sam’s well wishes give Bucky a warm feeling in his chest.

His two worlds are one in this moment and he appreciates the generosity that Sam has had welcoming you into their group.

Bucky wants to keep you as far away from the danger as possible but seeing as you’ve already been blown up on a plane because of him, he’s grown accustomed to the idea that he can’t ever keep you one hundred percent safe. He’ll have to take it day by day.

“Thanks, Sam. That means a lot. I’ll tell her. Hey and uh…maybe you should ask Sharon to come? Y’know…”

Sam quirks an eyebrow, his face full of wonder at Bucky’s audacity.

“…as your date?” He finishes, an amused smile overtaking his handsome face as he turns up and takes the steps two at a time.

“That’s not funny, Barnes!”

“It wasn’t supposed to be!” Bucky calls back then wiggles his eyebrows at Sam as he shuts the door.

Eager to find you, he drops his keys on the unpacked boxes by the door, stripping off his coat slowly as his ears listen intently to the sounds of the house.

The inside is simple, a dark gray concrete floor makes up the foyer that then shifts into stunning dark oak hardwood flooring. The windows are large with thin frames made of black steel. Immediately after the foyer to the right is the living room, two bright red sofas—one full and one loveseat—are pushed against the far wall, an unassembled coffee table half pulled from its box. A rolled up decorative rug lays on top of the larger sofa.

An open concept, the dining room follows the first floor with a decently sized dining table lighter than the floors with mid-century dining chairs in pale peach. Two of them are still wrapped in plastic.

On the other side of the dining table, is the black concrete kitchen island with maple cabinets. A black stainless-steel fridge and matching chef grade six burner stove are already hooked up an in use, a small pot of what smells like alfredo sauce burning and emitting the first puffs of black smoke.

Bucky drops his jacket and races for it, pulling the pot away from the flame then shutting it off.

“Shit…” He sighs, taking the pot to the sink then freezing when he sees cold noodles, all mushed and sticky and obviously overcooked thrown in what he can clearly see is a small fit of frustration from you.

He takes a deep breath, exhaling through his nose as he thinks about what he’ll possibly be able to say to make this day better for you. There has to be something that he can do.

As he waters down the sauce and begins to dump it, he makes up his mind.

He cleans the dishes first, then makes for the fridge to see what else you’ve bought to cook.

He finds the chicken that would have been for the pasta you were making and takes that out along with a few tomatoes, sharp cheddar, and beautiful red and yellow peppers.

Dinner is quick work, and though Bucky isn’t sure what he’s making will be very appetizing, he pours his heart and soul into this meal hoping that it’ll heal a bit of the darkness this day has obviously brought.

He sets the table and as he places the down two wine glasses, he suddenly hears a swell of music upstairs.

It’s beautiful, this melody, and it reminds him of a song that he knows he must have heard. There’s a full string orchestra, woodwinds, and a deep bass below. It all sounds beautiful, something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s melancholic and he can only imagine the state you’re in.

Deciding to get you down here before he pulls the wine from the fridge, he heads up the stairs.

The second floor has three bedrooms two on the left and the master on the right with a master bath and the second full bath sharing the same wall.

Although the inner walls of the house are made up of insulated and soundproofed drywall, the walls of each room on the outside are exposed sandstone brick, slightly darker than that of the exterior.

Bucky makes his way to the last door on the right, listening for a moment but the music is coming from the third-floor attic space.

Attic is used as a loose term. The space is actually completely open, nothing within it yet save for the large radio system that you brought from your place. The high-tech turntable is plugged into sturdy speakers that almost make it sound as if the orchestra is in the attic with you.

Bucky steps up onto the landing and spots you standing at the far end staring up at the large skylight as the sky grows darker with dusk’s quick approach. You have your arms wrapped around yourself as if you’re cold, the large sweater you’re wrapped in making you look soft and huggable.

You take his breath away, every time he sees you like this. You’ve always been beautiful but seeing you in clean clothing that isn’t torn or saturated in sea salt makes his heart skip a beat. He likes you looking cared for. You’ve gained a healthy amount of weight since you left the hospital and there is nothing sexier than how you look now.

The stretchy tights you wear underneath your sweater hug your curves tight, thick woolen socks on your feet.

If you hear him come in, you don’t show it. Your hands are clasped around the sleeves of your sweater, clinging tightly as you struggle with whatever you’re thinking.

Bucky needs to know what he can do, but he’s afraid to make it worse.

The only thing he can think of is to hold you, so that’s what he does.

He moves up behind you, waiting a moment before he places his hands on your shoulders then traces them down along the length of your arms. The way you have them crossed also brings his arms around your body.

As you melt against him, Bucky exhales the breath he’d been holding, kissing the side of your head as you shut your eyes and sigh.

“One of the things I hadn’t realized I’d missed being stranded on that island was music.” You tell him, voice conversational despite the grief you seem to still be processing.

“Me too.” Bucky admits, listening to the swell of music with new ears.

It gives him goosebumps.

“I guess things didn’t go well at A.I.M.?” Bucky probes gently, his lips pressed against your head as you continue to watch the sky through the skylight.

“I can’t exactly tell them that I was stranded on an island after my plane blew up.” You shrug. “Honestly, the guy was a pretty big jerk but, he’s right. They couldn’t exactly hold my position for me.”

Bucky sighs deeply, hating the disappointment in your voice. “You’ll find something, kitten. I’ll help you look.”

You shake your head. “I think maybe I should just take some time.”

“I think that’s a very good idea.” Bucky admits, his lips once again pressed to your head. He can’t seem to help himself. He wants to kiss you better, but he knows it’ll only do so much.

Both of you are aware just how much you’re struggling to get used to being back home.

You fall into silence, Bucky’s arms content to hold you.

Oh, shit. Dinner.

“I made you something to eat.” Bucky whispers, then drops his arms as you turn to look at him.

“Shit, the sauce!” You exclaim, fear making your eyes dilate.

“It’s okay, kitten. I took care of it.”

“I’m so sorry, Bucky. I’m so stupid.” You whimper.

“Hey, baby, it’s okay. Alright? Nothing to worry about.” He pulls your hand up to his lips and kisses your knuckles before lacing his fingers through yours to pull you from the room. “What do you think we should do with this space?”

He hopes you can’t see through his attempt to distract you.

“I don’t know.” You admit, looking back up at the space as he pull you down the stairs.

Bucky waits as you think, letting you lead the pace of conversation.

“We could just make it a multipurpose room.” You brainstorm. “You’ll need a gym? And I could use a space for reading.”

Bucky smiles, glad you’ve gotten your mind off your lost A.I.M. job, even if it is for a few moments.

“That sounds like a great idea. I’ll have to get you a nice lounge chair and some bookshelves.” Bucky nods eagerly.

As he pulls you through into the dining room, he lets your hand go to pull out your chair.

“This looks so good, babe.” You gasp, eyeing the cheesy chicken on your plate, laden with tomatoes and peppers. “Thank you so much.”

Bucky watches you sit down, your voice breaking as you thank him and then you’re shoving your hands over your face as you sob.

He doesn’t need you to say anything and there’s nothing he can say to make it better. All he can do is drop to his knees and pull you into his arms, holding you tight as you let the stresses of the day spill out.

You bury your face against his neck, clinging to his shirt tight, somehow making Bucky feel more needed here than you ever did on the island.

“I’ve got you, kitten.” He whispers, squeezing you tight. “I’ve got you.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“What are you going to do today?” Bucky whispers, eyes still shut.

He gives you a fright, making you jump with his sudden question and you turn to hide your face in your pillow as you laugh lightly.

“Holy fuck, Bucky!” You shout into your pillow and feel him shift beside you, his hand moving across your lower back. His hand over the sheets you’re using to cover yourself.

You turn to look at him, biting your bottom lip with playful anger.

“I’m sorry.” He laughs silently, puffs of air as he blinks slowly, like cat. Telling you he loves you without saying anything. “Serves you right for watching me sleep.”

“You’re so pretty though.” You tell him, reaching out to trace his nose from bridge to tip.

“Me?!” He asks, astonished by the news before he throws himself over you, grabbing your wrist as he goes to pin it up above your head.

Settling his weight on you, he breathes in and out heavily, enjoying the feel of you beneath him. With your wrist in his metal grip and his flesh hand squeezing your hip, you chuckle happily, licking your lips.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“If I’m beautiful, what does that make you?”

“Normal?” You wonder, knowing he’ll refute any disparities you make in your self-assessment. He’s biased. He loves you.

“Perfection.” He whispers, and you shake your head because you knew it had been coming.

“Nobody’s perfect, Bucky.”

“You’re perfect for me.” He clarifies, and leans down to kiss your lips slowly, just a peck.

He holds it, staring into your eyes.

“Perfect with me.” He continues.

You smile, perfectly at peace.

“You never answered my question.” Bucky tells you, throwing himself onto his left side, keeping his right arm around your waist.

“What question?” You wonder, reaching over to stroke his hair.

“What are you gonna do today?”

“Oh.” You sigh. “You’re going in today, finally?”

“Just for the day. Getting acquainted with the new headquarters. No missions yet. But soon.” Bucky nods.

“I’m gonna have to get used to being here without you.” You turn onto your side and scoot in close, pressing your nose right up to the tip of his, shutting your eyes in subdued lamentation.

“I’m gonna have to learn to leave you behind too.” Bucky points out. “I’ve gotten used to having you nearby, kitty cat.”

You laugh. Reaching up to stroke his cheek. “You haven’t called me that in a while.”

“Remember when you woke up on the beach? Right after the plane crashed?” Bucky’s brow puckers, a little crease between his steel and ice eyes.

“I remember you yelling at me to move.”

“I didn’t yell.”

“You might as well have.”

“I didn’t know you were so sensitive.”

“Yes you do.”

“Fuck. You’re right, I do.” He chuckles.

“Stop hurting my feelings, Barnes.” You pout.

He laughs, pulling you close again to kiss you.

“Mmm.” He mumbles, “Baby?”

“Yeah?” You pull back, catching your breath and pulling back to look at him.

“Why is it so damn hot in here?”

“I was cold.” You force a smile, too tight, too toothy. A downright look of guilt if ever Bucky saw one. “Too hot?”

“Not yet.” Bucky mutters, crawling over you again, his hands trailing down; one pushes your white long-sleeved shirt up to expose your tummy while his other hand slides down past the waistband of your sleep shorts. “But we can fix that.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky’s exhausted. He didn’t know how much energy it would take to get back into the swing of things.

As he trudges along down the sidewalk, he passes a few people and they kindly look up and smile at him, waving when they recognize him.

His interview after his rescue seems to have changed the mind of most people in the city. He’s no longer the Winter Soldier, but Sergeant Barnes.

“Hi Sergeant Barnes. Nice night?” A lilting voice asks.

He looks up in search of its owner and finds a young brunette walking by him. Dressed in a tight silver cocktail dress with sparkling sequins along the bottom hem of the skirt and a black coat much thinner than she should need in tonight’s cold.

The flirtatious tilt of her head and the sparkle in her eyes leaves him in no doubt of her aim.

“It’ll be much better once I get back home to my girl.” Bucky tells her, turning to walk backwards a few steps as he waves her goodbye.

“Lucky lady.” She tells him, pulling her bag up higher on her shoulder.

“I’m the lucky one. Have a good night, Miss.” Bucky gives her a nod and turns to be on his way.

He’s not sure if it’s wrong that he feels it necessary to mention you whenever a woman pays him this kind of attention. There are plenty who have wished him a good night without the flirting that he carries on conversations with and manages not to bring you up.

It’s almost like he uses you as a shield.

As he reaches the steps of the house, he climbs them quickly and then waits by the door with his hand pressed over his heart.

That girl really made him anxious. He doesn’t like being seen like that. It’s invasive.

When his heart is steadier, he pulls out his keys and lets himself in.

There’s a rush of hot air that chokes him. He coughs, pulling at his collar as he reluctantly shuts the door and its influx of arid air.

He sheds as much of his outer clothes as he can. Blue jacket and the gray sweater beneath it leaving him in a plain red t-shirt.

“What the hell?” He gasps, dropping his outerwear on the floor before locking the door and venturing up the stairs.

The entire first floor is empty. Dark. The smell of whatever you had for lunch still filling the house. Grilled cheese?

“Y/N?” He calls, moving for the bedroom but he finds it empty. “Baby?”

There’s a sudden rush of wind, a flash of lightning from the third-floor stairs, followed by a loud clap of thunder.

It pulls his gaze up and he follows his instinct taking the stairs two at a time.

Since moving in, after spending each day taking care of one room of the house at a time, the attic is no longer empty.

As he reaches the landing, to his left is a small home gym. Each piece picked out by him, a punching bag, mats, weights, treadmill for you if you ever decide to use it. Bucky prefers to run outside.

On the right side of the room, your reading corner. Six shelves at least seven feet tall with a step ladder to reach the higher shelves. There’s a tea table, two comfortable padded chairs, and another deep enough that you could curl into it and sit all day reading without needing to get up.

There’s a reading lamp and a colorful carpet to make the space cozier and on across a small coffee table a lounging sofa for Bucky to lay on when you’re reading and he just wants to be by you.

On the far side of the room, directly under the skylight, he spots you on a platform bed you’d had set up for what Bucky had thought was sky-watching. He can see that he was right.

Your eyes are trained on the sky above, thunder clouds flashing and echoing around the house.

Around the bed you’ve set up what looks like a semi-circle of potted trees. A mixture of four-foot palms and Cycas, all surrounding the head of the bed.

Without a word Bucky makes his way towards you, stripping down to his briefs as he goes. When he reaches the bed, he finds you also in your underwear, sheets tossed aside as you lay with your head against the pillows and your eyes trained on the window.

He crawls in, stopping over you for just a moment to smile down at you and lean down to kiss your lips.

Your hands come up to caress his ears, then up to the back of his head.

“You cut your hair.” You observe, a glint in your eye that tells him you like what you see.

He lays beside you, looking up to see what you see, and he finds a strange sense of calm fall over him.

Placing his hands on his chest, he relaxes and then reaches down to take one of yours.

“So, this is what you’ve been up to with the trees?”

“Something didn’t feel right.” You admit. “I think I found the answer.”

The heat, the sound of thunder, the lightning overhead, and now with the jade leaves of these trees filling his line of sight, bucky can almost see himself back on the island. Back when it was just them and no one in the world could hurt either of you. Where life was much simpler. Wilder. And just a bit quieter.

Even though things have gotten better, this feels like the world of two where your love was born and nurtured.

“This is amazing.” Bucky admires, giving your hand a squeeze. “I think we should get married.”

You turn to look at him, eyes wide.

“Too soon?” He checks, turning to look at you too. “Marry me, kitten.”

Bucky watches you turn onto your side. He mirrors you, wrapping his arm around you.

“Whadya say?” He waits, heart pounding despite his calm exterior.

He feels your hand trail down his side, tracing the side of his thigh before you bring it around to his butt then without warning give his left cheek a nice squeeze.

“Not the left side!” He yelps.

“I will!” You agree, giddy and the happiest Bucky has ever seen you.

Somewhere past the burn of the spot where Sam had pierced him with that implant gun, past the pain and the throbbing, Bucky realizes you’ve just agreed to be his wife.

[tempestaurora]

Hi, don't know if you're still doing this but:

2 royal + 52 Marriage of Convenience 

Eddie and Buck 911

2: Royal Au + 52: Marriage of Convenience

alright i've read like four of these in the past two days so i've been trying to think up something original

personally, i'd tell the story of the buckleys, rulers of some made up country like genovia. the buckley king and queen, phillip and margaret, had three children: daniel, madeline and evan. tragically, their eldest grew sick at a young age, and prince evan was born in an attempt to save his life (although the family would never admit that to the world); evan's spare parts, however, must have been defective, for the young prince daniel died, leaving madeline as the heir to the throne

now, here's the thing about being royal: it sucks. no one tells you it sucks, but it does, and madeline (or maddie, as she prefers) and evan know this first hand, especially as maddie grows older and has to start looking for a husband

in walks doug kendall, a neurosurgeon, and by god does the country love him

so much so that evan, once old enough, decides to start travelling, start going around the world, because it's not like he'll be missed, right? he may be the country's beloved prince evan (the brightest smile and biggest heart of any royal they've ever known) - but he's not needed for day-to-day things

so he travels, and when he does, he does it in disguise. no guards, no royal escorts, no private planes. he even goes by buck, because its easier that way - and its not like genovia is a big country, so its not like he's going to get recognised

he's on a tour of the united states when he reaches el paso, texas, where a young eddie diaz, recently abandoned and divorced by his wife, and father to a four-year-old christopher, are struggling to make end's meet

one of eddie's three jobs is as a bartender at the bar that buck wanders into

and by god can they not stop staring at each other

i mean, a hot bartender with just the right amount of stubble who holds himself with innate confidence

and a hot patron with a birthmark above his left eye and an open smile like sunshine is just flooding out of him?

they get to talking real quick

and although buck doesn't mention being a prince, he stays at the bar long enough to hear all about eddie's life and current troubles (isn't the patron supposed to vent to the bartender? buck asks. hey i listen to people vent all the time, eddie replies, it's rightfully my turn)

and well, buck has an idea - a dumb idea, because he's a bit drunk, but an idea all the same

we should get married, buck says

what

buck shrugs. if i'm hearing you right, you just got divorced, your parents are threatening to take away your child - aka the light of your life - and you need insurance and money. if we get married, you're no longer a single dad working three jobs with no insurance - i dunno man sounds like a good idea to me

and eddie's not usually one to do stupid, reckless things, and he fully expects this to backfire in a ridiculous way, but goddammit - he's twenty six, he's allowed to do dumb shit occasionally, and buck is something he definitely wants to do

it takes a few weeks (they both think the other will back out, but neither does) and buck has to get a lot of things sorted privately and quietly, especially in regards to marriage licenses and visas, but idk he's a prince he can fast track that shit, but then the two of them are getting married at a court house, with just christopher and eddie's sisters to witness

(eddie hears buck's name as evan buckley for the first time on the day they get married; he does not recognise it in the slightest. he doesn't care about royals.)

(in those few weeks, eddie is blown away (and a little in love) with how good buck is with chris; there are several near-misses with either of them shirtless, fresh from the shower, or dressed up in a suit; and at least nine moments where they almost kissed but didn't and thought the other didn't want to)

helena and ramon, by the way, are pissed

eddie is thrilled

and everything's great - buck moves into eddie's house, ending his tour of america then and there in el paso; signs lots of documents and makes lots of phone calls; listens to eddie talk about the idea of moving to LA, of being a firefighter, of doing something he's proud of

and after one night when buck carries christopher to bed and tucks him in, eddie watching from the doorway, they return to the living room for eddie to immediately kiss him

buck kisses back, of course

its the next day that the news drops: prince evan buckley of genovia has secretly married a single father in texas

eddie finds out through the newspaper. he looks between it, then buck, then it, and says: what

and buck goes for a smile and says, surprise?

eddie's annoyed for like a minute and a half, but buck is too delightful and charming to be mad at for long.

buck's parents, on the other hand - boy can they hold a grudge

the story ends like this: buck and eddie travel to genovia with christopher; they introduce him around the family, around the country, and genovia is still surprised, but ultimately endeared by the family prince evan has made for himself, unaware that it was built on a dumb, drunk idea.

(what happens when they find out? eddie asks quietly, one night. why would they find out? buck replies. we're married, eddie, and not to be embarrassing - but i've got a massive crush on you, so i'm happy to see where this takes us)

in the epilogue, buck denounces his claim to the throne to move to the usa, LA specifically, and live with christopher and eddie there. maddie follows not long after, publicly divorcing her abusive husband and needing some time away. she eventually goes back, because being a royal may suck, but she's still instilled with a sense of duty towards her people - however, when she returns, many years later, upon her parents' abdication so that she may take the throne, she brings her husband, chimney, and their daughter, jee-yun with her

by that point, of course, eddie and buck are very happy, very in love, and are no longer married out of convenience, but joy

Send me two (2) tropes from this list + a ship and I’ll describe how I’d combine them in the same story.

[slutsofren]

Danger Days Chapter 7: I Never Told You What I Do For A Living

summary:  Joel isn't looking good after the recent run-in at the university. Ellie and you have to do everything you can to stop the bleeding and save his sorry ass.

word count: 2,648

content warnings: gore, hurt/comfort, cursing, unconscious Joel, general canon-typical violence, you know the drill.

note: this was so exhausting to write lol

read on ao3 here / masterlist

“I think we're safe.”

You look over your shoulder, back to the stone walls that lined the university. The three of you narrowly escaping it and you wanted to scream, yell, throw a fucking tantrum at the situation but you held it in. “For now,” you replied spitefully. “C’mon, kiddo, we should put more distance between us and them.”

“How is he holding up,” Ellie asks you tensely,

“If I’m being honest, I won’t know until we find somewhere safe.”

“You gotta tell me what to do,” she was beginning to sound more and more scared as your back got coated with Joel’s blood. What little patching up you did on Joel wasn't holding up, and wouldn't for much longer.

“Keep an eye out for where we can hold down for a couple nights. I gotta watch Texas here and make sure he doesn't fucking die on me.” Literally.

Ellie looks over at Joel, “Let's go.”

The two of you took off, Whiskey sensing your agitation and being the gentle beast he is, didn't jolt around too much. Speeding as best you could've in the situation you were tied down in, you suggested to Ellie that it would be nice to find somewhere rather far away from the university, far from trouble. She agreed, not wanting to run into whatever group that was again.

After a couple miles, safety seemed within grasp.

“Look, over there,” Ellie points off to the distance. You can see it, just barely. A shopping mall.

Like everything else in the area, it looks abandoned. Even by infected standards. It’s quiet and private, therefore it’s perfect.

Upon further gazing at the storefront, you recognize the banner. “Is that Swirls? The yogurt place?”

It takes you a bit off guard, recognizing something familiar from the time before, but for some reason it brings you a tiny bit of hope. Maybe.

“It says ‘Colorado Mountain Plaza’ over there,” Ellie points out.

“Looks safe enough.”

“Thank fuck.”

“Language.”

“Sorry,” she apologizes. Then sarcastically adds on, “Mom.”

You snort at her, shaking your head. Although she teased, you’ve come to enjoy the way she called you mom, but those were thoughts for another day.

Approaching the yogurt bar, Ellie jumps off Callus and reaches for the garage type door and lifts it. It creaks loudly which puts the two of you on edge but no signs of infected ring out. Joel does grumble a bit over your shoulder, likely at the sound of metal grinding on metal.

“Careful, Ellie.”

She waves you off then ducks beneath the door, disappearing from your sight. You hear a muffled ‘it’s clear’ from the other side as she lifts it up again to its full height. She leads Callus in by his bit and you follow with Whiskey. 

“I’m gonna need your help, El.”

You try not to jostle around too much as Ellie comes close to your side, “What do you want me to do?”

After taking a couple moments explaining how to safely pull him down, you adjust yourself on Whiskey. Side-saddling him, you put your arms around Joel, “He is not gonna like this one bit.”

“Damn straight he’s not,” Ellie mumbles.

“On three.”

Sliding down Whiskey, you pulled Joel with you and with her help, the two of you managed to get him down with potentially only minor bruising. Laying Joel on the ground as gently as possible, he groaned harshly at the adjustment. “I know, cowboy, I know,” you said to him softly.

Checking over him one last time, Ellie looks up at you. “Now what?”

“Now,” you sighed. “We try to stave off an infection. The bar itself wasn't clean by any means. And you see this,” you pointed to where the puncture wound was. “This is where his large intestine is.”

“Okay,” she shrugs. “What does that mean?”

You hesitate for a moment, mouth agape. “It's where food gets absorbed and gets-,” you trail off.

Ellie looks at you for you to continue.

You sigh, “The biggest problem is his poop okay? Basically if the bacteria from his intestines, specifically his colon leaks out into his body then we're going to have much bigger problems than the wound itself.”

“Gross.”

Chuckling, “Yeah. Imagine how he's gonna feel if his own shit kills him.”

Ellie lightens up just a little at your off-colored joke. “He would be really pissed.”

“I'd argue maybe even a tiny bit of embarrassment.”

The two of you lightly laugh, both just as drained as the other. “How do you know all this stuff anyways?”

“I was a field medic with FEDRA, remember? Didn't last long there, after I lost my finger but I picked up a thing or two from the other nurses.” You shrug, you never found out much about the soldiers you aided, if they survived or not but maybe that wasn’t the best thing to tell her right now. 

You point towards the metal garage door, “Go lock that up for me will ya?”

She gets up and does it, using a padlock to secure it shut. “Think there's anything out in the mall?”

“Possibly,” you groan as you get up off the ground. “I'll have a look around.”

“No, you stay with him, I can go,” Ellie offers. For a moment you want to argue with her, you know what you're looking for, but you see it in her eyes. Just a hint. A hint of uncertainty and fear. “You know how to keep him alive.”

It takes you a second but it clicks, Ellie doesn't want to see Joel like this. “Okay,” you relent. “I saw a map on the way in, I think there's a pharmacy on the second floor.”

“What do you need,” she asks, shifting on her feet.

You rapidly tell her everything within reason - needles, thread, alcohol, gloves, anything and everything that could possibly help the situation within reason to help the fucking dying man laying in front of you. “I'd be grateful if you found a saline bag or a IV or, fuck, even a staple gun but that’s bein’ too damn hopeful. Whatever you find, just bring it back alive. Take your bow.”

She nods as she picks it up along with her backpack and you give her a tight hug. “There and back, Ellie.”

“There and back, promise,” she says, her words slightly muffled by the embrace.

She backs away and opens her mouth to say something but decides against it. Instead mumbling a couple words of encouragement to herself as she leaves. Turning on her heels and lifting the gate separating the shop from the mall with little to no hesitation, Ellie is gone before you know it.

As the metal slams behind her you sigh, listening to the sounds of her locking the gate behind her. Faintly hear her talking to herself. You chew on your bottom lip, thinking of what to do next.

Well, for starters, it would be awfully nice if the man of the hour didn't fucking bleed to death before Ellie comes back, you thought.

Taking off to your left, you scoured behind the bar looking for something, anything, that would help. The shop itself looks picked over so whatever is here isn’t going to be much. Finding nothing but nearly empty drawers until you find a roll of duct tape. Nice.

You walked back to Joel and dropped to your knees, taking off your backpack. Lifting his shirt up to see the poorly done bandages you had applied earlier were thoroughly soaked in sickly copper tinged blood. “Shit,” you whispered.

“Okay, Texas, this shit is gonna hurt like a bitch but you're just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.”

You took a moment listening to Joel’s uneven breathing, the moans of pain. Hoping to hear some kind of response from him but received nothing from the man. Nodding to yourself, you went to work. “Okay, I can do this,” you mumble to yourself. “Nothin’ you haven’t done before.”

Reaching into your backpack you pulled out some fresh gauze, water, and the bottle of alcohol you were genuinely hoping to drink one day but it is what it is. Next, you grabbed the duct tape and pulled off some strips and lined them up, making a square patch. 

Lifting his shirt, you removed the front bandage from his stomach. A slight gag came up from the smell but you suppressed it, allowing yourself to dissociate from the situation and work mindlessly. Grabbing the water bottle, you rinsed your hands then his stomach, repeating the same motion with alcohol, and used one of the extra shirts you had in your backpack to dry him off. Blood still seeped from the wound but you used the gauze to seal the puncture then covering it with the duct tape square.

One side down, now the other.

“Hold tight,” you told him as you pushed him onto his side. His back looked just as bad as his front but you grabbed another spare shirt and shoved it under his head, adjusting him to make him lay on his stomach in an indirect way to put some pressure on the front.

Joel groaned in pain at the movement, you tried to be gentle but he was not being a rather good patient. “I know, I know, I'm sorry,” you whispered.

You got to working on his wound, doing the same as what you did on his stomach. Rinse, disinfect, gauze, patch. Once the duct tape square went on, you sighed heavily looking down at yourself.

Truly a sight of horror. Your hands and clothes were soaked in Joel's blood. Blinking once, then twice, turning your hands over, seeing the glistening and the flakes peeling off from long since dried blood, you rose and reached for more clothes to change into. 

Discarding the stained ones save for your coat. It was going to get colder, winter was soon. Shit, winter was already fucking here, you recalled the first hints of it when snow started falling earlier. It would be best to not throw away the only thing that would give you warmth in the coming days.

After you changed, you thought you should also change Joel. His dirtied clothes would only worsen his situation if any germs or bacteria got into his injury. You approached Callus and got Joel's pack, scouring around until you found a suitable shirt, flannel, and coat for him.

“This is going to embarrass me more than you,” you told the unconscious Joel.

If you were being honest with yourself, this was not the way you wanted to undress him but those were thoughts for another day. One where he survives this whole fuckin’ ordeal.

You got to work on him, doing everything humanly possible to be careful. Once the bloodied clothes were off and fresh new ones were on, you were going to take one hell of a break.

Adjusting the coat back onto his body, you laid him down gently as before, resting his head on a makeshift pillow. Now the only thing you could do is wait for Ellie.

She’d been gone for an hour tops, nothing to worry about just yet. Maybe the pharmacy was a bust and she’s looking around for first aid kits, you think. It wouldn’t do you any good to worry just yet.

The two horses start chittering behind you. “Looks like we got a couple of chatty birds over here,” you raise a brow at them.

Callus neighs a bit loudly at you and before you say anything you hear a very loud voice. “Hey! I hear the fuckin’ horse behind here! Help me get this open,” then the locked gate started rattling. Those fucking people must have followed you all through the fucking snow.

“Oh, shit,” you curse and immediately start rummaging through your things to reload your empty guns. Your hands were shaking, making the reloading just that much more difficult. You looked up once you heard another voice.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll get the door. You guys keep searchin’, I don’t wanna get ambushed.”

No shit, I don’t either, you think.

You try to make haste and get your shit together. After you top off with whatever remaining bullets you have available, you corral the horses against the wall and drag Joel behind the bar to shield him from any debris or accidental fire.

Just as you finish you hear a loud bang, someone kicking the door in frustration. “Fuckin’ door!”

You couldn’t help but smile. Good door.

“Get the kid, take the woman, and find the old man. I’ll go for the door,” the same voice shouts.

Then another voice further away, “Shit! There’s someone out here.”

Ellie.

“Wait, shit, I think it’s starting to give,” the first one shouts as the metal door begins to creak and whine.

You decide to do something incredibly stupid but before you could talk yourself out of it, you dive and lay down next to the door. It begins to lift and you hear how the men start to cheer. Just as it gets high enough you take aim and shoot at them, unloading a healthy mix of lead, anger, and frustration into them.

Just as the door slams back down with a loud clang, you hear two soft thuds as their bodies drop.

“Oh fuck this, I’m comin’ Ellie,” you say as you get up and begin lifting the metal door. Just as it slides high enough for you to get under, you slam it shut behind you as you run forward and take cover behind some metal crates that were conveniently positioned just outside the yogurt place. As you do, you see a flash of pink and white to your left as Ellie comes running next to you.

“It’s the same guys from the university,” she says breathlessly. Her freckled face is etched with frustration, matching yours. It’s like none of you could catch a break, catch a breath.

You put a hand on hers, “We got this, sweetheart.”

Her hand squeezes yours and the two of you start fighting back. Fighting for survival, each other, for Joel, fighting for the sake of seeing another sunrise together.

A bullet whizzes overhead and hits the wall, “We got them pinned down over there! Finish them!”

You smile at the men’s clear underestimation of the two of you. Chuckling, “You go left, I’ll go right. Meet here in say ten with dinner?”

“Sounds good to me,” she bumps her fist with yours. With a nod, she’s off. You, the same.

Trying to take it easy, you found yourself trying to be stealthy by using the hunting knife Gustavo had gifted you months ago. It was hard between the harsh winter wind and lowering visibility with the ongoing snowstorm outside that was leaking through the broken roof of the mall. It possibly hurt more than helped.

Two gunshots rang out on the opposite side of the mall than a shout, “Shit! Infected!”

“I’ll take that as a no for dinner,” you mumble to yourself.

You pick up a couple bottles and throw them at the men who were hunting you, screams and clicks followed the noise until you heard more gunshots until silence. Figuring it would save you on ammunition if they just fought and killed each other. You followed this same sequence until there was complete silence, only for it to be broken by Ellie.

“That’s it! If anyone is alive don’t even think about surprising me! You’ll end up like your friends. You hear me? Yeah? Yeah.”

You laugh a little loudly, tears welling up. Just for a moment you let yourself reel in the moment that the two of you fucked up those people on your own. “C’mon kid, let’s save that old bastard of ours,” you shout at her.

[mxndoscyarika]

Honeydew (Marcus Pike/Moreno x OC) | Chapter 6

Summary: Erin He moves to DC after working for the FBI in Texas and runs into a hero in disguise; Marcus Moreno. Something about him is familiar, too familiar, yet different in a way that she can’t quite place. Although confused, she can’t deny her feelings for him; perhaps, after years of regret, she finally found the one.

Warnings: food/drink mention, death mention

Ao3

Honeydew masterlist

Like my writing? Here’s my masterlist.

Author’s Note: Thank you for being so patient 🥺 School+job interviews have been kinda crazy for the last few weeks. But now I’m on spring break AND got an internship, so hopefully the coming chapters will be up soon. Enjoy!

“Are you sure you don’t mind picking up Missy? I don’t want to keep you from your work.”

Erin laughed softly, tapping her fingers on the steering wheel. “I’m turning into the school parking lot already, babe. I don’t mind, really. It’s nice to spend time with Missy.”

Her boyfriend let out a sign of relief on the other end of the call. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

“You’ve mentioned it a couple times,” she replied, pulling up to the pickup line. When she spotted Missy, she waved her over. Her heart soared as the little girl’s face lit up like the sun. “I should let you get back to work. I’ll bring her back to your place, so don’t worry about stopping by my apartment, ok?”

“Okay, honey.” A pause. “Thank you for taking care of my baby. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Probably run around frantically,” she teased, unlocking the car doors so Missy could climb into the back seat. “Now go save the world, Marcus. I’ll see you at home in a few hours.”

After that, she hung up and turned around in her seat to greet Missy, who was already buckled up. “Ready to go home?”

The little girl nodded. “Will you stay for dinner tonight? We haven’t had a night with all three of us in a while.”

Erin laughed softly, pulling out of the pickup line. “Missy, sweetie, I stayed over this past weekend! But yes, I’ll stay as long as you want me to.”

“Can you stay forever, then?”

Well, that was unexpected. Yes, she’d become an integral part of the Morenos’ lives, but she never thought Missy would want her around all the time. Surely she missed her mom, or missed having free reign around the house with just Marcus as her parent figure. She couldn’t be that important, could she?

Part of her couldn’t help but melt at Missy’s request. For a long time, she’d wanted to find someplace that she could call home–a place where she could live, appreciate, and be appreciated in return. It would’ve been a lie to say that she never thought of a life with the Morenos, but she knew that it was more complicated than her late-night fantasy made it out to be. She couldn’t just barge into their lives.

The drive to Marcus’s house was muscle memory at that point, the turns of her wheel well-practiced. After their first date, they’d gone on two more. And while neither of them had gone much further than needy kisses, she couldn’t help but fall a little more in love with him. He was worth it. He was worth everything.

Missy bounced on the balls of her feet as Erin fished out the house key from her purse, bounding into the house the moment the door was unlocked. “If I finish my homework early, can we bake something?”

“Maybe,” she mused, setting her shoes on the shoe rack by Missy’s. After locking the front door, she walked into the main family and dining area. “What did you have in mind?”

“Can we make a tres leches cake?” Missy asked, looking up at her with innocent eyes. “I asked dad, but he said no.”

Erin chuckled and sat down in the chair next to her. “That’s probably for a good reason, sweetie. We just finished a cake roll the other day, so maybe we can bake it this weekend. Instead, we can have ice cream today.”

The girl sighed and shrugged. “Okay, it was worth a shot.” She frowned as she read over her english homework. “Parts...of speech? I don’t remember learning any of this in class. Can you help me? Pleeeease, Erin?”

Humming in confirmation, she set down the file she was reading and turned so she could read the homework sheet better. “Ah, I remember learning this in school. It’s not too bad, it’s just that the names are a little weird. Let’s see…”

They worked on the homework together, Erin explaining the concepts and asking Missy to give her examples of everything from verbs to nouns. She tried not to think about what it would be like to spend more afternoons and evenings helping her little girl with homework. It was a long way off, and she didn’t want to get her hopes up.

She was explaining the difference between nouns and proper nouns when Missy mentioned, “You know, dad used to have a different name.”

Erin raised a dark brow, surprised at how nonchalantly the girl had made the comment. “Really, now?” It probably shouldn’t have come as that much of a surprise–didn’t most superheroes have codenames, or secret identities?

Missy nodded. “Well, I think so. I remember when I was little, sometimes he would write Marcus Pike on my permission slips instead of Moreno. Then he’d have to cross it out and fix it. Silly, right?”

Erin froze, her heart dropping into her stomach. Her Marcus...was Marcus? “Oh...that is silly. I wonder why he changed it.”

It didn’t make sense. Marcus Pike disappeared nearly a decade ago, and as far as she knew, he wasn’t affiliated with the Heroics. And he certainly couldn’t have a daughter that was in second grade.

Or could he?

But if he was the Marcus Moreno, then why did he need to have a fake identity? More importantly, why didn’t he tell her that he was Marcus Pike? Even if it was a codename, it didn’t matter once they met. Unless...he didn’t want her to know.

Maybe he didn’t want to be found;  because if she was anything to him, why didn’t he look for her? Why didn’t he try to contact her?

The air turned cold. Breathing slowly through her nose, she sat back and opened her laptop. She scrolled through the reports of Marcus Pike’s disappearance. There was nothing on him except some anecdotes and some text messages between coworkers. There was no address, no email, no mention of his name online. He’d very much disappeared. No one, not even her best agents, could find any trace of him after that winter day eight years ago.

Sighing, she switched gears and pulled up as much information as she could find about Marcus Moreno. She didn’t like the feeling of prying into his life, but she had to know. It didn’t make sense: if Marcus Pike existed for years within the FBI, what was Marcus Moreno up to? Did he disappear too?

Her hands shook as she clicked on the website of the Heroics and went to Marcus’s page. Unlike most of the other heroes, he didn’t have a codename. Why was that?

She paused at his photo, gaze softening slightly. As much as she tried to convince herself otherwise, he did look a lot like Marcus Pike. He had the same furrow between his brows, the same nose. They were the same height as well, which she’d noticed as her body fit perfectly against him.

They–he?–both knew her coffee order like the back of their–his?–hand, and knew exactly how to comfort her when the stress from work became too much. He called her the same pet names, her favorite being….honeydew.

Shit.

Only one person ever called her “honeydew.”

She was terrified as she scrolled down.

The first appearance of Marcus Moreno as a member of the Heroics was eight years ago.

How could she have been so blind? He was right in front of her the entire time, and she never noticed. She built her entire reputation on remembering details and noticing everything, and she couldn’t pick up on the clues. Who else would call her “honeydew,” hug her like it had been years, and want to take the relationship slow?

It was too much.

Not wanting Missy to worry, Erin got up from the table and locked herself in the bathroom before letting the tears fall.

Why did he have to go?

Why didn’t he tell her?

Why didn’t he come back?

---

Erin only let a few tears fall before gathering herself again. She couldn’t let Missy know the truth, not yet. She had to be strong for her, just as she had to be strong for her team when every lead turned into a dead end. So much time had passed since she last had any hope of seeing Marcus again; part of her didn’t want to believe it. But at the same time, she couldn’t deny it anymore: Marcus Moreno was Marcus Pike. He was alive and well, and happy.

The least she could do was be happy for him.

But it didn’t soften the blow on her pride.

Dinner was a quieter affair than usual. She couldn’t bring herself to talk more than a couple sentences at a time, for fear of something slipping out. Maybe it was better that way. Marcus obviously didn’t want to deal with the effects of disappearing, so why should she make an effort to find closure?

That was another thing, she realized. If he really was Marcus Pike, then would she ever get closure? Would she ever get to truly move on from the one person she could never have?

Once Missy went upstairs to get ready for bed, the silence grew deafening. There was so much she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how.

Marcus must’ve sensed something was off, because his brows furrowed just slightly. He came up and leaned against the counter, watching as she transferred the leftovers into tupperware containers. “What’s wrong?”

Erin sighed. Part of her didn’t want to confront him and destroy the little bubble of happiness surrounding them, but she needed answers. If he reacted badly….maybe he wouldn’t be the one. Resigned, she asked, “Why did you lie to me, brown eyes?”

A blanket of silence settled in the kitchen.

His eyes widened. “W-what do you mean?”

Fighting back tears, she asked, “Why did you let me think you were dead, Pike? I-” She covered her face with her hands, eyes clenched shut. “I searched for you, but you were gone!”

“I’m sorry,” he said, eyes glistening. “I should’ve told you.”

As she started trembling, he realized it was the first time he’d ever seen her cry. His honeydew was crying because of him.

“I just wanted my best friend back,” she said. Facing him, she asked, “Were you ever going to tell me? Or was I supposed to live the rest of my life feeling guilty that I was moving on from the love of my life?”

Marcus felt like he’d been punched. She…wanted him since the beginning? “Your...what? Honeydew, I-”

She stepped back as he reached for her. His heart broke as she shook her head and said firmly, “No. You don’t get to call me that. I don’t….I don’t even know who you are.”

“Okay,” he said softly, taking off his glasses. Tears dripped down his face as he faced her. “Let me introduce myself. Completely. My name is Marcus Moreno. We met when I was hiding under an alias: Marcus Pike.”

He told her about his family, and his involvement with the Heroics early on in his life. His mother, Anita Moreno, was one of the original heroes in the organization. As the Heroics grew more prominent and began working with the government, he needed to change his name–while his mother wanted to help the world, he just wanted a normal life. He wanted to go to school, make friends, and have a family someday.  With the status that came with being a Moreno, he couldn’t do any of that without putting his loved ones in danger. So, with the help of the Heroics, he changed his identity to Marcus Pike.

Most of his adult life, including university, was spent as Marcus Pike. His failed marriage had Marcus Pike written on the certificate. Even when he worked for the FBI, he was documented as Marcus Pike; no one knew who he was, not when new people were being cycled in and out of the workplace.

After moving to DC and having his engagement with Teresa Lisbon broken off, he gave up. He contacted his mother, got involved with the Heroics again, and had his identity erased so he could take over as the leader of the Heroics.

“But that doesn’t explain why you couldn’t tell me,” she said, frowning. “Is the difference between Marcus Pike and Marcus Moreno so big that it would affect our relationship?”

Marcus sighed. “Do you really want to know?” When she nodded, he confessed, “I didn’t tell you because...I didn’t want to lose you.”

Her gaze softened. “What?”

“I was afraid that if you saw me as Marcus Pike, you’d  only ever see me as a friend,” he explained. “And he is me…. But the way you looked at Marcus Moreno was all I ever wanted. It was everything I wished I could have back and more. The most painful part of leaving Pike behind was losing you. It was losing the chance to tell you how I felt, and to see where we could’ve gone together.” He stepped closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away when he touched her. “It was selfish, I know. I’m sorry. But I promise you, Erin, my honeydew, my feelings for you are real. They always were. No amount of name changes and secret identities can change that.”

Unable to stop herself, Erin threw her arms around him and buried her face in his shoulder. “I missed you so much.”

He held her close and stroked her hair, basking in her warmth. “I missed you too.”

“You’re an idiot, though,” she said, clinging to him as if he would disappear if she let go. “I would’ve said yes whether or not you were Pike.”

“But?”

“But, that doesn’t mean I’m not mad,” she said. A wave of humiliation crashed over her. “If you were anyone else, I’d be gone.”

“I know,” he murmured, kissing the top of her head. “I’m sorry. You have every right to be mad, and I don’t blame you if you want some space.”

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she said softly, wincing as her head started throbbing. “I...I want space, but I’m afraid I'll lose you again. I’m mad, but I’m also….glad that my best friend is alive and well.”

“You can stay for the night, if you want,” Marcus offered, searching her gold-flecked eyes. He braced himself for the rejection, for her to scoff and storm out of his house. But it never happened.

Once everything was put away in the kitchen, they made their way up to his bedroom and got ready for bed. Sharing the bathroom as they brushed their teeth and washed their faces felt odd. Why did it feel like they’d been robbed of years of their life?

He didn’t regret marrying his late wife–no, never–but the more he and Erin spent time together, the more aware he was of just how much things could’ve been different. Everything he had was because he couldn’t tell a woman he loved her eight years ago.

Nestled against him, Erin sighed. “You don’t have to go with me on the undercover op. This job...it’s important and I can’t afford to be distracted.”

He shook his head. “No, I promised you I’d go. Everything will be alright, honey.” The familiar weight of her body against his soothed his nerves, even after everything. “I’m sorry we lost so much time. I’ll make it up to you.”

Erin didn’t respond.

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[tsumuniri]

━━━ Atsumu Miya is a free-loader. Living inside his twin brother's home as if it was his, he would bring home girls and annoy Osamu most of the time. Y/N L/N is quite the opposite apparently because she's a virgin loser. Being the popular anonymous BL mangaka known as Yamazaki, she stays in the homey abode of her parents and watches boys from afar for references (not for admiration sadly).

Now what will happen if fate decided to tie these two idiots together and made them live across each other in one apartment?

。m.list ❯❯ prev┃next

TWO ━━ THE GIRL NEIGHBOR

THE FORTUNE OF GETTING EVERYTHING Atsumu desired had always blessed his luck in his twenty-three years of living on this habitable planet— may it be in his talents for the ball sport or even outside his athletic career. This man surely knew what it means to be spoiled by the gods as they loomed over his being and guided him through the prosperity of his lifetime. He was a guy who could attain his dreams by any means necessary.

So, here he is, debating on which detergent he should buy because he had finally moved into the apartment his brother recommended.

He hasn't settled in at the moment. The room he rented was still a mess of cardboard boxes full of his things piling up on top of each other. It was a new environment for the male as he had always stuck to Osamu throughout his life; they were partners in crime after all.

That was when he decided what was his current goal at the moment; to survive a week of living alone without asking for his brother's help. Hence, the reason why he's here in the cleaning aisle of the grocery close by, having difficulty in choosing if he should use powder or liquid detergents.

"Are you stupid or something?" An irritated voice spoke up from behind the setter's crouching figure. Atsumu sneaked a glance over his shoulder and lazily grinned at his teammate and friend. "Great timing, Omi-kun!" He chirped, standing up from his last position before turning around to face the ravenette.

Sakusa rolled his eyes, "For your information, buying cleaning products isn't the only thing I do. I just like my place and myself to be tidy. Can we also quicken up the pace, please?" He spoke out his thoughts as he got one of the liquid detergents set on the shelves, carefully placing it inside the grocery basket.

"Didn't know you'll get offended by my texts. I was only joking about that time you bought that many cleaning products," The blonde shrugged his shoulders casually, "It was a funny sight. You really looked like a janitor that time." He snickered at the memory of the other with the bags full of cleaning supplies.

Sakusa clicked his tongue and took a step past Atsumu, "I don't usually buy that many supplies. Half of those were for Bokuto-san and Hinata-san," He held the two metal handles of the grocery basket, hoisting the holder up as he let it hang by the side of his thigh. "Speaking of those two, they already texted me that they've finally arrived at your new apartment in Morinomiya. They mentioned your brother also dropped by with some onigiri." He notified the other male.

Atsumu grumbled from his teammate's words as he followed Sakusa's trail towards the snacks aisle. "Ya mean the same brother who decided to betray me?" He mumbled, his expression seeming like a child who just got grounded by their parents for a whole week.

"And yet, you still visit his Onigiri place in the city. You love him, don't be sissy about it. You got kicked out because you were too complacent, and unlike during your high school days, you realized that your brother wouldn't be there for you all the time."

The blonde stayed silent, most likely agreeing with the ravenette's statement. Although the two brothers argued for a while after Osamu announced the unfortunate news about his twin's boot out of the household, Atsumu knew that it was the best for both of them as it was time for him to get an apartment (even if he sort of dislikes the idea of moving).

Despite him understanding this, it wouldn't hurt to be a drama queen for once.

"Yeah, yeah. I get it." Atsumu mouthed as he motioned his hand in upward movements, walking over to the cashier register to check out their groceries. A frown etched on Sakusa's face from under his white face mask, not a slight bit amused by the latter's laid-back composure. He adjusted his grip on the basket's handle then followed behind to the location of the check-out counter.

The cashier, who looked as if she was currently in high school, kept on stealing glances between the blonde male and the cleaning supplies she was checking out. With lips pursed from her thoughts, her eyes slightly squinted every time it landed on Atsumu.

'What is this girl's problem?' He thought, raising his brows at the girl's serious expression. He cleared his throat and let his eyes wandered around the vicinity to distract himself from the cashier's peeks.

After the uncanny interaction with the young cashier, the two volleyball players made their way to the newly-built apartment building that the blonde-haired setter is now residing. From what the raven-haired outside hitter mentioned before, their two other teammates had already ordered two boxes of pizza and couldn't help but devour its cheesy goodness once it arrives. Atsumu quickened his pace from the newly-given information as he wouldn't like to meet the sight of two empty pizza boxes in his apartment.

"Tsumu-Tsum! Great timing. The pizzas are here!" Bokuto cheered after seeing his two comrades walked in from the front door. His eyes lit up while his mouth formed into a wide smile— almost looking like he won the jackpot of a million yen (not like he needs it anyway since he earns more than that).

A certain tangerine-haired male was already munching a slice beside him, "Omir-shan, Arsurmu-shan," Hinata said, mouth full of pizza dough and toppings. He then chewed the last bit of bread and swallowed the piece down his throat, "Welcome back! I like the new place, by the way, Atsumu-san!" He ended his statement, taking another slice from the pizza box.

Sakusa cringed from the mess on the table and how their two reckless teammates ate the freshly-oven baked slices. He lowered the grocery bag he was carrying on one of the moving boxes beside him as Atsumu followed suit. "Did you guys even washed your hands before eating?" The masked male straightly asked as he sat down on the carpeted floor.

"Don't worry. We did! Bokuto-san even brought the hand sanitizer that Akaashi-san bought for him." Hinata replied, scooching over to the side as he gestured Atsumu with a nod of his head.

Atsumu walked over to his side of the table, taking the spot the short male had spared for him. The blonde then lifted the closed pizza box with his right hand and almost gagged at the chosen toppings, "You guys ordered two Hawaiians? That's sickening." Atsumu stuck his tongue out in disgust and lowered the box's paper lid, deciding to get one of his brother's onigiris instead.

"I'm the one who invited you all here to celebrate my new home, and yet, you guys wanted to be douchebags by ordering my least favorite flavor of pizza."

"You're the only person here who doesn't like pineapples on a pizza, Atsumu-san." Sakusa pointed out, moving the face mask under his chin with his index finger then taking a bite on his slice of the Hawaiin pizza. "Besides, it's three-to-one. You wouldn't win at all." He added, to which the other two avid pineapple lovers agreed with hums of satisfaction.

A thought suddenly popped in Bokuto's mind as he licked the tomato sauce off the tip of his fingers. "Oh yeah! I met a cute girl while I was waiting for Hinata outside your apartment. She also moved in just a few days ago, and guess what? She's living in the room across from you!" He stated out of the blue and laughed lightly at how it was such a coincidence.

This statement caught the attention of the other three, mainly the blonde-headed volleyball player.

"Maybe you could give your new neighbor some onigiri, Atsumu! Like a welcome gift!" Hinata grinned widely, his tone having a trace of excitement as he began eating another slice of the Hawaiian pizza.

Atsumu casually shrugged his shoulders, "Maybe..." He trailed off before taking a bite off the seaweed-rice snack.

The horologe of time had passed by quickly as the blazing sun settled down for the glowing moon to shun upon the busy streets of Osaka, the twinkling stars glittering the night sky with constellations and patches of galaxies from a distance. The simple gathering ended and left the room in peaceful silence. However, Atsumu was still sitting on the floor, his legs overlapping each other as his arms crossed against his built chest.

"Should I?"

He thought out loud as his eyes stare at the box of left-over onigiri. The blonde heaved out a breath through his nostrils before he stood up from his position, patting the dust particles off his bottom. He reached over the box, not bothering to transfer the contents in another container since it would've taken another set of minutes in trying to search for one.

"Here we go." Atsumu swung the door open and immediately noticed the door from across was slightly opened. No light was emitting from the inside. It triggered the male's intuition to check the situation of his neighbor as the scenario of a burglar robbing a harmless female concerned him greatly.

With a slight push of his hand, the door eerily creaked like it was a prop in a horror movie set-up. His eyes tried to look into the dark apartment. But unfortunately, the moving packages were stacked in every spot of the apartment, making it difficult for his peripheral vision to catch anything suspicious of some kind. "Hello?" He called out and didn't get any answer.

'I swear to the gods... If I'm getting killed by a serial killer.'

It's his fault for watching those horror movies in the past. If he hadn't watched that one texas killer with the chainsaw, he wouldn't have gotten scared at all. Atsumu's heart thumped loudly against his ribcage from the anxiety of having to roam around this creepy apartment.

A groan echoed off the walls, stopping the male from his tracks as his body froze like a statue. His throat went dry while his palms started to sweat when he felt an unknown presence creeping up behind him. He closed his eyes shut and quickly spun around to greet the unknown person with a power punch, "Get the fuck away, demon!" Atsumu screeched, still holding onto the box of onigiri safely in the other hand.

"Ouch! Why the heck did you do that for?"

Atsumu peeked his eye open and found you sprawled on the wooden floor, hissing in pain as you caressed your bruised cheek. You were wearing your pajamas as it seemed like you had just woken up from your slumber.

Oops. It's a false alarm, after all.

## it’s gonna get good boiz

## taglist: @underratedmage ; @haikyuuwifu (if you guys wanna be added in the taglist, please comment down! :>)