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nuagederose · 2 years ago

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As the Seasons Grey | Chapter Nineteen: Miles Away

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The sandwich and fries that Nelly had whipped up for Christine hit the spot in such a way that she wanted to remain with the feeling forever. She huddled closer to Alex, who helped himself to a big slice of blackberry pie courtesy of Nelly as well as a lush, fresh cup of coffee. It was a cold day that day, and one that became colder with each passing minute: Christine knew that it was going to snow soon enough.

The aromas were almost intoxicating as she indulged in that hot sandwich and those fries straight out of the fryer, and Alex sipped on his coffee every so often. That nice rich black coffee that seemed to cradle her and hold her even closer to him.

She thought about the dream that she had: all bizarreness aside, she kept on thinking about him there on the loveseat, reclined back so she could lay on top of him. She thought about it even more as she lightly nibbled on the fries. The thought of laying next to him all the while, especially once he found himself so full of pie and coffee, and she could only find herself feeling warmer at the thought of it.

“I should invite you over for Hanukkah,” he suggested.

“My mom and I should have you over for Thanksgiving,” she quipped, and he smiled at that. “By the way, when is Hanukkah this year?”

“It’s coming up here,” he told her, “it’s on the seventh of December and goes to the fifteenth.” He took another sip of coffee and closed his eyes. “Part of me wants this coffee with a touch of Irish.”

“A touch of Irish?”

“A little kiss of Irish whiskey and some cream,” he clarified, and he showed her a little playful smirk. “Don’t tell me you never had Irish coffee before.”

“I think I tried it but I wasn’t crazy about it,” she told him. “Both of my parents are recovering alcoholics so I don’t really want to risk that.”

“Oh, that’s totally understandable,” he said with another sip. “I think of yesterday, when you hinted at the kinks in question that you want to throw out to me.”

“You could have a little booze to loosen things up a bit,” she suggested after she had taken another bite of Reuben sandwich. “I could play around with a dildo or a vibrator of some kind.”

“Phew, you’re actually gonna go there, aren’t you,” he teased her.

“What, with toys? Or getting off to your sexy voice or your little tummy?”

He raised his eyebrows so high that his glasses slid off the bridge of his nose down to that full tip.

“Would you like to tie me up while you’re at it?” he suggested.

“Maybe. Or we could do a little role play: I’m the student who needs teaching and you’re the only tutor for miles.”

“What if I am the only tutor for miles?” he quipped, and he hooded his eyes at her. Christine moved in closer to his face as if to kiss him, but then she remembered that they were still at school. She instead moved back and cuddled down next to him, and she picked up the second half of her sandwich.

“God, this is so good,” she remarked.

“And this is probably Nelly’s best pie by far,” he added as he picked up the last bite of flaky crust. “It could really use a scoop of ice cream on the side for an à la mode thing, it’s just that good. She’s like an artist with baking.”

“Speaking of, I’m thinking of taking an art class for the winter term,” she told him, and his face lit up at that.

“Oh, really! You totally should—after you made that little mug for me, I feel there’s something untapped inside of you. An artist waiting to emerge from the shadows and rage out like she means business.”

Christine reached into her coat pocket for her phone, only to find the screen in the caller ID dark. She sighed through her nose and returned it back in there. Not the first time she had received a phantom text.

“Would you like me to come along with you to see your dad?” he offered her.

“You can if you want to,” she replied with a shrug. “I mainly have to call my mom because I don’t know what’s happening. All I just know is he’s admitted to the hospital on a—” She cleared her throat.

“On a what?”

She leaned in closer to his face. “A relapse.”

He raised his eyebrows at that. “Oh, no.”

“Yeah.”

“I kind of feel bad about the Irish coffee remark, now,” he confessed as he picked up the mug for another sip.

“Don’t,” she assured him. “If anything, my dad makes jokes about it often. Part of his recovery involves making fun of himself, like he says you can laugh about it with the right kind of people.”

“You can laugh about so many things with the right kind of people,” he followed up with a nudge of his glasses up his nose. “Like a messed up relationship.”

“Like a messed up relationship or an eating disorder,” she added, and she offered him one of her fries.

“Oh, thank you—” He took a bite and then dropped it into his mouth in one fell swoop. “Delicious.”

Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention; Christine glanced past him to see Sabrina’s black hair and big beaming smile on her face. She looked rather different without the rest of the Sundaes all around her.

“The dynamic Sabrina,” Christine declared with another fry into her mouth, and he turned his attention over to her.

“Oh, hey, Lady Bird,” he greeted her, and Christine chuckled at that.

“Marlene and I wanted to ask you if you’re going to be overseeing the final,” Sabrina told him.

“If Mr. Hansen plans on retiring between now and the middle of December, we shall see, my dear.” Alex flashed her a wink, and Sabrina wiggled her nose like that of a little rabbit before she stepped away from them.

“I think it’d be pretty cool if you administered the final,” Christine suggested.

“Don’t be getting any ideas now,” he quipped with a wag of his finger, and he took one final sip of his coffee and ran his fingers through his black hair to keep it off the side of his face. Christine finished off the rest of her fries, and she took out her phone once again. After a quick flip through her address book, she found the number and pushed the button. She held the phone to her ear and closed her eyes.

Alex sat there and watched her as the phone hit Wendy’s voicemail. The dial tone went off right then, and she cleared her throat.

“Mom, hi, it’s Chris—I’m just getting back to you about Dad. I’m at right school now and I don’t know if I’ll have a bunch of homework but I’ll try and visit when I get the chance. Love you and him both.”

She hung up and he nodded his head at that.

“You’re a good kid,” he told her in a low voice. The sound of the rain on the roof caught her attention, and she shivered. He then turned his attention to her. “Let me take you home later today.”

“You?” she asked him.

“Yeah. Let me take you and Eric home.”

“Eric? I think he drove here.”

“I want to drive you both home, though,” he insisted, and he peered behind them. “Is he here? I don’t think I even saw him earlier today—I didn’t have to substitute today, either.”

“Come to think of it, I don’t think he was here,” she confessed with a shake of her head. “I don’t really feel like riding the bus home, anyway.” She looked at the clock on her phone and patted the top of the table. “I gotta get going.”

“I think I do, too,” he said. “Gotta get those substitute teacher checks before anything else happens…”

She could hear it in his voice and see it in his face. She was so warm next to him right there, and when she thought about it, she knew that he felt the same way as her. Christine picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.

If nothing else, she could keep up that warm feeling when they rode home together.

It rained on and off throughout that final stretch of the school day, but she knew that the snow was upon them as she made her way to the edge of the wet grass and his car parked there under the trees. The chill lingered in the air, and she closed her coat. She hoped that his car was warm and dry once she spotted that head of rich black hair with the vein of gray at the crown. He nudged his glasses up his nose and unlocked the passenger side for her first.

She set her bag on the floor and climbed inside. Alex followed suit next to her, complete with a rub of his hands.

“I think it’s supposed to snow,” he declared.

“I think so, too,” she added. “The feeling is in the air.”

“The seductive feeling is in the air,” he quipped as he started up the car. No rain ensued on the ride back across the Brooklyn Bridge to her humble nook on the second floor, but she knew that she would be warm that night when she went off to bed.

But rather than drop her off at her place, he kept on going to his place.

“There are some things that I want to give you,” he explained as he pulled up to a wide open space by the curb three doors up from his front door.

When they climbed out, the wind had calmed down but the chill still remained. It could begin to snow when she wasn’t even thinking about it on that little stretch of sidewalk.

She shivered and stood by his comfy couch once they were in the safety of his apartment. Alex slithered back to his bedroom for the things in question. Christine stood there in the middle of the floor with her hands tucked in her pockets, and she sighed through her nose. Her worst fear was that Captain Howdy would burst in through that front door unannounced, but she trusted Alex even after everything.

He returned to the front part of the apartment with a handful of books in his arms.

“Here, Christine—” he grunted out. She reached out to catch them before they fell onto the floor. She counted six of them, three of which looked like old textbooks from the Cold War era: she balanced them on one hand.

“These books will do wonders on the next step of your journey,” he advised her, slightly out of breath. “Those textbooks you got in your hand there are all for fine art if you wanna take an art class of some sort. They’re old but they’re competent and they can show you some things from fifty years ago that can be even more relevant now.”

“And what about these three?” Christine nodded down to the three against her chest. He ran his fingers through his hair and fixed his glasses.

“The two on your breasts are both poetry books—from Dylan Thomas and Emily Dickinson,” he explained. “And that third one…” He nudged it out of her hand for her to have a look.

“I read this when I was about your age,” he added.

“‘The Brothers Karamazov’,” she read the gilded cover aloud, and then she lightly tapped her finger on the cover. “It’s one of those books that I’ve always heard about but never got around to actually reading it.”

“Oh, you should definitely read it,” he advised her. “I read it once and I was in love with it from the get-go.”

She clutched the books to her chest, and she promised herself that she wouldn’t drop them on the ground.

“I should probably tell you that my trio has another couple of shows coming up here,” he told her with a nudge of his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “One next weekend, and one the week before Christmas, both at the Iridium. We always play the week before Christmas, whether or not Hanukkah coincides with it.”

He then rubbed his hands together, and he turned for the guitar case next to the arm of the couch, and he slung it over his shoulder.

“Come on—it’s not very far, I’ll walk you home.”

And all the while, the wind kept at a level, but the feeling of snow remained around them all the way back to her apartment. Alex offered to carry a couple of her books, especially once her arms quivered from holding them so tightly to her chest.

And then she realized the real reason he walked her home as they near her apartment building there in the middle of the block: Eric’s car remained there at the curb up ahead. He never went to school that day.

“I had a feeling there was somewhere that you have to be,” she admitted, and she could feel her heart sinking at the mere thought of it all. He handed the books back to her, but then he reached into his pocket for something.

“I have a date with her,” he confessed, and he fetched up a sigh. “Yes, I’m aware. It’s just one of those things where it’s nearly impossible to pass up, especially when she and I are still technically together.”

“We have our relationship at school, though,” she pointed out.

“Indeed, we do,” he noted with a slight twinkle to his eye. He took out his phone and flipped it open. Nothing could deny the slightly irritated look on his face.

“Christine.”

“Alex.”

“Shoot my ears off.”

His face fell as he folded and tucked his phone back into his pocket with his free hand.

“Wondering where you are?” she asked him, slightly crestfallen.

“I guess you could say that,” he answered with a sigh. She glanced up at him as she adjusted her grip on the books.

“Are those too much for you?” he asked her.

“Nah, I’ve carried way worse than this,” she assured him. “One time, when I was in high school, I carried six textbooks back to my parents’ place. They were way heavier than this. My key is in my pocket, though.” He reached into her coat pocket for it and handed it to her, to which she held onto it with her index finger and her thumb.

“I’m eager to go to the Smithsonian, though,” she said. “And I would actually love to see you at NYU should that ever happen.”

“And if I ever do, know that I’m always only a couple of miles away over in Greenwich Village,” he assured her. “If anything, you should at least mosey on over there and check it all out. It’s like a cultural hub.”

“A cultural hub for the uncultured,” she noted, to which he shook his head.

“Nah, you’re not uncultured—you had a raw deal in life and you couldn’t really see what resided in you until you found it.” He showed her a thoughtful smile and then leaned in to kiss her on the forehead. Her heart pounded in her chest at the feeling of his lips there; he looked into her eyes, those bright blues up against the incoming field of white and gray coming their way. His black hair fluttered against the cold wind as it flooded in right then, but he was a beacon of warmth in the whole grand scheme of the gray world around them.

He sighed through his nose and turned away, complete with a slight adjustment of his guitar case over his shoulder. He walked about three feet away when Christine turned and started in the opposite direction back to her place. She then stopped and turned back around, and the first flurries of the autumn drifted down and upon her head.

“Alex!” she called after him.

He stopped dead in his tracks, but he never turned around. He instead kept his back to her as the flurries drifted down from the gray sky overhead. The books weighed down her arms, but the last thing she wanted to do was set them down on the sidewalk for a moment, especially when the blizzard was about to head in full swing on her head.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know,” she called out to him. He finally turned around for a look back at her, still with that thoughtful look on his face. She could feel the warmth of his lips still on her skin. “I love you more than you’ll ever know, Alex.”

“I do know,” he called back to her as a gust of wind welled up behind him and lifted his black hair up to resemble the billowing branches of a willow tree. He squinted his eyes and brought his coat collar up to his lips to protect himself from the bitter cold around him. She showed him a smile, and she nearly dropped the books on the sidewalk below her feet: she caught herself and walked on back to her apartment building before the flurries picked up into a full-fledged snowstorm.

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downwiththemoralmajority · 7 days ago

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Only A Heartbeat Away Pt. 1

Rex Brown / Phil Anselmo x female reader

Word count: 6957

Warnings: explicit sex scenes, alcohol

Torn between two men, the best thing to happen is that they will never meet.

Prologue

Once a year my parents went on vacation to New Orleans. And that’s how I met Philip. Since I was 15 we’ve booked the same hotel near the shore. A small apartment with two bedrooms which I usually haven’t used because I hooked up with Philip. Now that I finally became 18 years old my parents no longer forced me to stay with them.

I’d rather not decide what kind of relationship Philip and I have had. It was an on and off kind of thing and we’ve never spoken about it. I was happy to see him every once in a while when we were on vacation. He was a little daredevil and I would believe him if he told me that I wasn’t his only liaison. I could tolerate the fact because I haven’t been that faithful either. As soon as I arrived at home in Arlington, the next stop would be a small and smoky club to get laid. Rockstars were my type. Long-haired, dressed in tight spandex and leather jackets, men who were probably twice my age but I didn’t tell them that I was a minor. But I couldn’t emphasize enough that I was an adult now. Otherwise I wasn’t old enough to buy an alcoholic drink or cigarettes. But that’s what men were for. They bought me drinks. How was I able to get into the club? Well, that was called fake ID, my dear. I often told my parents I would be on a sleepover. They probably didn’t believe a word I was saying but they stopped asking any questions.

Last time I checked out in New Orleans, it felt different to leave Philip. Not that I was expecting him to confess his love for me but I met a guy called Rex last month who played in a band. Usually I was just fucking around but something about him was overwhelming and almost mysterious. He didn’t talk much. His love language included holding hands, caressing my body in a gentle way and deeply looking into my eyes. Philip was the complete opposite: outgoing, talkative and masculine. His strength was to keep your legs wide open only. This time he proved me wrong.

Last month

This was an old trick my grandma taught me. You act like you don't have money so men stand you a drink. But I didn't let any men buy me booze. They had to be pretty. If a man isn’t pretty enough for you, just act like you’ve found a dollar note and leave the bar. In most cases they don’t follow you.

Today’s line up was kind of boring. I spent the most time sitting at the bar and drinking beer pretty guys offered me. I was wearing tight black jeans and a Judas Priest band shirt which didn’t show any cleavage but they still looked after me. My feet hurt from wearing boots the whole day. I haven’t changed my clothes since noon.

Then again I searched for some dollars in my pocket. I actually didn’t have any money. I might have forgotten it at home because I was in such a rush to get the bus. That was not what I needed. I couldn’t buy any bus ticket to get home. Calm down, I whispered.

„Hi princess, let me get you a drink. Is beer okay? Sheryl, two beers!“, he demanded. That guy was like 5‘6“, sweaty, overweight and very scruffy. His body odor mixed with cheap perfume made me gag. He was wearing his tuxedo like he left work recently. I was disgusted and tried to stop the bartender from providing us with drinks. The music was too loud and my voice too low so she couldn’t hear me. The beers almost foamed over as she put it on the bar table. The scruffy guy heaved five dollars at the bartender. „Cheers, princess.“, he fizzled. Saliva landed on my face and I couldn’t be more disgusted. „I didn’t order that drink.“, I refused. While focusing on the bottle I wished to escape from this club. I watched the condensed water run down the green bottle just like that scruffy guy‘s sweat run down his temples where his hair has already gone gray. Angrily he grabbed my hand and pulled me closer to his stinky tuxedo. Acrid fumes burned in my throat and strangled me. He took the bottle of beer and directed it towards my mouth. „I paid 2 bucks for this shitty beer and you don’t want to take just one sip?“, he spat. Nobody around seemed to care about the incident. It was a normal Saturday for a woman in the 80s.

Suddenly something casted a cloud over the scruffy guy and me. Within seconds another guy angrily freed me from this nightmare and gave him a good talking to. I had to grab the edge of the bar to prevent me from falling down. The good looking guy punched the scruffy guy in his face and let him stumble down on the floor. „Don’t you dare to touch her ever again! Fuck off dickhead.“. His raspy voice sounded so sexy. He turned to me, reached out his hand and smiled: „You okay?“ Without saying anything I hugged him and gave him a kiss on his cheek. Another quirky dude appeared behind that good looking guy to check if something happened. The blonde man just nodded and the curly guy vanished into the crowd.

„Thank you so much, man. I was nearly raped.“, I gasped. A small tear ran down my eye as I realized what happened. He took his hand and wiped off the sadness. I couldn’t resist touching his hand as he stroked my cheeks. Shyly I stared into his big brown puppy eyes and forgot about the situation.

Our eyes met. The church bells rang in my ears and the choir started singing Hallelujah. I was not religious but he was heaven sent. A savior, a martyr who saved me. But deliver us from evil. Amen. Goddamn, he was just fine. Who was this good looking guy? Dressed in a leather jacket and pants only. Nothing underneath his jacket. Just a hairy chest and a golden chain.

He interrupted my daydream: „Come with me and take a deep breath. We have our own little booth where you can calm down. And surely some booze.“ Gently he grasped me around my waist and toted me through the crowd.

We both arrived at the secret entrance. Hurriedly he opened the door and waved to the curly guy and another corpulent man. He looked like a drummer, I thought. They all looked like band members. A poster on the door revealed the name of the band: Pantera. „Wow, is this some secret place for groupies?“, I joked. I had the gift of the gab. „Haha, no, the secret place for groupies is Rex’s van.“, the curly guy fooled around and nearly fell off his chair from laughing. The corpulent drummer joined him. They both laughed so hard I nearly felt embarrassment for Rex. Rex just rolled his eyes and offered me his seat. Though we just met, I reached out for the cooler and grabbed a lukewarm bottle of beer. „Dude, this is warm!“, I complained. The drummer threw a glance at me and said: „Rex, she’s not even here for 5 minutes yet and already complaining.“

„Vinnie, dude, she was nearly raped by scruffy guy.“, Rex hissed. They really called him „scruffy guy“. Vinnie made a gag sound and emptied his bottle of beer.

„Let me open this for you.“ Rex took my bottle and his lighter and opened it with a plopp. While I reached out for the beer, I accidentally touched his soft hand. He had to be the singer. His hands were soft, he was extremely handsome and his raspy voice sounded like an angel. Out of the blue Vinnie turned to me and asked: „Hey, girl, what’s your name?“ Why was I so surprised about this legitimate question? Because even Rex hasn't asked about my name yet. So I turned to Vinnie: „Yeah, sorry, my name is (y/n). And you’re Vinnie“ I pointed at the questionnaire. „Your name is Rex.“ Then I shyly nodded at Rex. „And who are you?“, I turned to the curly guy‘s direction. „My name is Darrell, but you can call me Diamond Darrell.“, he smiled a wide smile and played air guitar. He must be the quirky dude of this group. Darrell had to be guitarist, Vinnie the drummer, though he didn’t tell me but he looks like one. The last question was what Rex's position was. But within a second I would find out. He grabbed his bass and jammed a jazz tune. I always fell for singers when I think back to the time I first saw Philip playing a gig in New Orleans. His blonde dyed hair waving in time with the music and giving me wild thoughts. But when I looked at Rex I felt something completely different. There wasn’t an image burning between my thighs. The longer I looked at him the more I felt more than lust. I had goosebumps while he was talking and laughing and joking around. Imagining him kissing me passionately and taking off my clothes in the candle light. Slow sexy music played in the background while he took off his leather jacket exposing his chest hair. The female urge to leave scratch marks on his body while he was thrusting into me.

Once again someone interrupted my daydreaming. It was Rex who took the seat next to me. He moved closer and wrapped his arms around my shoulder. Never have I been so shy and excited to sit next to a guy.

Rex didn’t talk much. I mostly heard the other band members talking to each other. He just followed their conversation and nodded at times. He was more focused on the girl sitting next to him. Sometimes he laughed about Darrell’s jokes. His laughter was contagious. His beautiful smile also. Every once in a while he caught a glimpse of me smiling at him. This made him smile wider. I think it was love at first sight.

Carefully my fingers made their way to his chest and caressed his chest hair. He winced but didn’t act surprised. He began to pull me closer and lifted me up. „Come on, dude. Why don’t you both get a room?“, Darrell complained. He rolled his eyes and stood up from his seat. „I will find some girls, dude. So we’re not alone.“, Vinnie suggested. Darrell and Vinnie left the room and us both alone.

I hesitated to make the first step. It was different from the other times I hooked up with a boy. He was indeed the embodiment of a rockstar. His long fingers grabbed my ass and I imagined what he could with them. It appeared as if he was thinking of what he wanted to do next. Without any warning he pulled me closer to his chest and whispered: „We should go anywhere else.“ I released myself from him and took his hand. We left the secret room and blazed a trail through the crowd. They were all so drunk in the club. The air was thick with smoke and sweaty bodies were dancing with each other. I saw Vinnie and Darrell talking to some other girls. It seemed that it was easy for them to attract girls. No wonder, they all looked hot.

We made our way to them with Rex still holding my sweaty hand. Then he whispered something into Darrell’s ear which I couldn’t understand because it’s too loud. Darrell nodded and smirked. He handed Rex some keys and I immediately knew where we were supposed to be going.

Fresh air was pumped into my lungs as soon as we left the sticky club. Suddenly I felt the coldness of the starlit evening and I wished I had a jacket. Probably Rex wouldn’t give me his unless he wants to walk through the streets naked. We strolled towards the parking lot. It was pretty dark outside and Rex had troubles with finding his car. Still grabbing my hand tightly he opened the passenger door. I bounced inside and surprisedly felt uncomfortable. Rex seemed to feel the same and asked:

„Are you okay? You look aghast.“ He took my hand carefully.

„Yeah, I mean, I don’t know. I’ve never been in a stranger‘s car.“

„You don’t have to come with me. It’s up to you. If you feel uncomfortable, you can always leave.“

„It’s not that I don’t want to go with you. I just left the safe space which is the club.“

„Hey, y/n, I don’t force you into anything.“

His raspy voice suddenly turned into a soft tone. Big brown puppy eyes stared at me without expecting an answer.

„I’m sorry, Rex, but could you please drive me home?“

Trying to hide the tears I looked down on my lap. He started the car and left the parking lot.

The way back home was awkwardly quiet. I resisted to catch a glimpse of Rex to avoid eye contact. I’ve never been that nervous around a man before. Usually we hid in a dirty bathroom in a club and had sex. Why did I hesitate this time? I could’ve kissed him in the booth earlier. But I didn’t. This time I didn’t want to rush because I was afraid of being disappointed. I guessed, I wanted him to like me, not just my body.

We arrived at home. I gave him a peck on his cheek and said goodbye. Hurriedly opening the door, I jumped out of this car and didn’t even turn around to look at him. I searched for my keys and entered my house. Carefully I closed the door and broke down and cried.

The last two days I haven’t left the house. My mother often knocked on my door to check if I was still alive. My body ached from the fact of letting Rex go. Every inch of me wanted him back but the thought of going into the club and finding him fucking some other girl in their booth would break my heart like I broke his two days ago. I was so ashamed.

„Y/n, open the door“, I heard my mother yelling, „You haven’t left the room since Sunday. It’s Tuesday! You must eat.“

„Leave me alone.“, I cried.

„I’m going to break down the door if you want.“, she sounded visibly annoyed.

„GO AWAY!“, I turned the volume up and pulled the blanket over my head.

With a loud thud my mother managed to open the door with her bare hands. She turned off the radio, took away the blanket and gently slapped my ass.

„Y/n, I know you’re an adult now and I can’t force you into anything but if my beloved daughter hasn’t eaten for two days I am very worried.“, my mother’s tone was harsh but I knew she always wanted me to be happy.

My tearful eyes turned in her direction. She sat down on the edge of my bed and started caressing my hand.

„What in the name of god happened to my girl? Who did this to you? Probably a boy. Ugh, they never grow up.“

„Mom…“

„Sweetheart, I’m going to ki…“, she wasn’t joking.

„MOM!“, I knew that I could tell my mother everything, „stop it.“ I took a deep breath to not cry. She was expecting an answer.

„It was my fault. I met a boy in a club who was so kind and cute. He is not like the other boys. I dumped him. He carried me home but all that I gave him was a glimpse. Oh god, I could punish myself.“

My mother stood up. That was not what I expected her to do at that moment. With arms akimbo she opened her mouth:

„Don’t be a cry baby.“ My eyes widened. She called me what?

She continued: „Stand up! Grab a sandwich! And find your man!“

I gave her a confused look. That was a completely different side from my mother.

„I’m serious! Get dressed and leave the house. You’re too young to be lovesick.“, she taught me while she was grabbing my arm to catapult me out of the bed. I was kind of scared of my mother. Anxiously and trembly I grabbed my clothes and watched her staring at me getting dressed.

„Mom, you scare me. What’s wrong with you?“, I carefully asked.

„Shhh..“, she made me quiet. I got dressed as fast as I could and didn’t dare to say a word. Hurriedly I left my bedroom and walked towards the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and suddenly saw a confident woman. It helped that my mother forced me to leave the sadness I was experiencing. With shaky hands I put on some makeup and combed my long hair.

I nodded to myself in the mirror and made my way downstairs. Commendably I ate the sandwich which my mother prepared for me and left the house.

Fortunately the bus station was only 5 minutes away from home and we lived in a quiet neighborhood far away from creeps like scruffy guys. Secretly I was still laughing about the fact that he was known. I actually should be crying about it. The evening seemed so peaceful and stars were shining brightly as if they wanted to lead me somewhere. I didn’t forget my jacket this time. The fact that I haven’t smoked since Sunday night made me crave for a cigarette. I found some in my jacket and lit it up. But as soon as I took my first deep breath I heard the bus engine and threw away the cig.

The bus was overcrowded and I had to stand next to a pregnant woman. Why did nobody offer her a seat? She was about to explode. I hope she was on her way to the hospital. The 20 minute ride felt like an eternity. Not only because I didn’t have a seat but also because I instantly hoped that Rex wouldn’t be mad at me. Or he hooked up with some dirty little cunt who is not worth it.

The bus stopped in the busy area of Arlington. Finally I could breathe some fresh air. I made my way to the club where I had been on Sunday and read today's line up. Nothing special, I thought to myself. When could I see Pantera playing? Suddenly something came to my mind. The singer was missing. That was no concern of mine. I better not ask.

The security guard was already smiling at me. I smiled back. As soon as I entered the club a heavy cloud of smoke and body odor let my nostrils explode. I barely couldn’t see anything. It was more crowded than two days ago. The music was too loud as usual and the bartenders overstrained. Girls were pressing their tits against the men at the bar hoping for good sex. They didn’t look much older than me and already had bigger tits.

Narrowly I scanned the entire room to find Rex. To the disadvantage there were a lot of blonde men and I didn’t know what he was wearing. With big steps I made my way through the crowd and arrived at the booth. Rex could be in here and fucking some girl. Did I want to find out? Carefully I knocked on the door but nobody answered. I touched the doorknob but it was closed. While knocking harder some guy tipped on my shoulder.

„Are you searching for Rex?, he smiled. At least Darrell was here. His curls tickled my neck. He was standing very close to me.

„Uhm, yeah." I was a bit ashamed to ask him about Rex’s stay. He probably thought I was a naive person.

„Yeah, dude, he’s not here today. He’s at home doing.. things.. probably.“

Doing things. I hoped it didn’t include fucking.

„This is a bit of a crazy demand but could you give me his address? I have to talk to him. Please?“, I begged.

„Oh well, yeah, he lives with us. So, here’s our address. Do you have something to write?“

„Uhm.. wait.. gonna check my purse.“, I stuttered embarrassed. I was not really prepared for this but at least I found a pen. Darrell took my hand and the pen and wrote it down.

„Our dad isn’t at home, so just ring the bell. Rex will open the door… I think.", he babbled.

I kissed him on the cheek and thanked him though I could barely read what he wrote on my hand.

Suddenly I realized that it’s far away from the club and I didn’t have a car. I turned back to Darrell and gave him my prettiest smile.

„Okay, well, dude, let’s grab Vinnie. He’s not that drunk I guess.“, he moaned. I would kiss more than just his cheek for asking Vinnie to drive me to their home if I wouldn’t be into Rex.

We interrupted Vinnie flirting with a blonde girl. After Darrell begged him to drive me, he also moaned but agreed to help me.

The car ride had been more awkward than the time I drove with Rex. I didn’t know what we should talk about so I kept quiet. Vinnie looked uncomfortable too and I couldn’t resent him for feeling like this. His hands clutched the steering wheel tightly and I watched his sweaty fingers slipping down. The urge to break the silence was strong. I didn’t want to be the shy little girl not able to start a conversation. Every now and then I opened my mouth to say something but I closed it immediately. Though I believe that Vinnie is more the talkative and outgoing person. But he didn’t say anything. Me neither.

After 20 minutes of absolute silence we finally arrived at Vinnie‘s and Darrell‘s house.

„Thank you, Vinnie. I owe you one.“, I praised him.

Vinnie smiled at least and answered: „It’s my shout.“ And he started the engine.

Now that I was here my legs started to shake. What should I expect and how would he react to my arrival? Thoughts circulated in my head. I needed to calm down. My finger wandered toward the doorbell and touched the cold and golden surface. The bell sounded like an alarm and I had the feeling I was waking up the whole neighborhood. It was almost 10 o‘ clock.

„Oh fuck, man. Did you forget the keys again? Darrell, I'm going to kill you.“ I heard Rex yelling. His raspy voice sounded so angry as if I disturbed him. Now I was more nervous than before.

At one fell swoop he ripped the door open. My eyes went up and down to observe Rex standing there wearing nothing. He was completely naked. I couldn’t stop staring. It was huge. Immediately he hid his dick behind his hands. Still in shock I wasn’t able to say anything.

„Wait!“, he said. He left the doorway and came back with boxer shorts on. „Come in, Y/N.“ Without hesitation I entered their home.

The house had a comfy interior. The upholstered furniture and wooden walls made me want to stay here. The TV was on mute but some music kept playing in the background. A lot of beer bottles and cigarette stubs were lying on the coffee table. Did Darrell‘s parents know what was going on here?

„Y/N, catch it!“ From close to scratch a beer can flew into my direction and I fortunately caught it. It could’ve knocked me out. Rex was standing in the kitchen laughing.

„Rex, don’t do that ever again. I’m fragile.“, I joined his laughter.

I felt so much more comfortable. Comfortable enough to make the first step.

„I’m really sorry about what happened on Sunday night. I should have said something. I felt so bad that I haven’t left my room since then.“, I cried.

„It’s not your fault. It’s better to be careful than jumping immediately into someone’s car. Y/N, don’t cry. You had the guts to search for me and ring the bell. Pssst. Stop crying.“ His fingers dried my tears like they used to in the club earlier. He really worried about me and made me feel less alone. My tearful eyes looked into his puppy eyes. He grabbed my waist and pulled me closer. His lips touched mine. I smelled his shampoo. It was a mix of vanilla and coconut and made me want to eat bits of it. His hot breath grew damp on my glasses, so I took it off and placed it on the coffee table next to the cigarette stubs. Within seconds he took off my shirt, threw it in the corner of the living room and tried to open my bra with one hand. I was really surprised he managed to open it. This time I didn’t hesitate to let him do this. I needed him so badly.

He cupped my breasts and pinched my nipples while he was still kissing me. I let his tongue enter my mouth. The sweetness of his lips cried for more. His hands slid downward to my waistband and opened the zipper of my jeans. I stood almost completely naked in front of a rockstar. Though I wasn’t the thinnest girl he made me feel confident and desired. After exposing my ass he grabbed and squeezed the lovable fat of my butt. He ached for more. I was extremely close to him and his boner pressed against my belly. Rather than moving anywhere, I just closed my eyes and surrendered to this moment. Rex knew that I was ready for him and gently pushed my body towards the couch. With his hands on my shoulder he pulled me down and towered over me. He took off my slip and spread my legs. Carefully he thrusted into me and moved to the rhythm of music playing in the background. My cup of happiness was filled. This is what I wanted. My daydream came true.

His long hair tickled my face. I touched his hair which was so smooth and fluffy. He looked so cute with his bangs.

His pace was getting faster and his thrusts harder. The way he groaned into my neck made me horny. I clasped my legs around his waist and pulled him closer, so he thrusted deeper. Consequently my moans were getting louder. Straight after my body was filled with his warm juice. After releasing himself his sweaty body crushed onto me and his heart was heavily beating against mine. He carefully unplugged himself, grabbed a blanket and covered us with it. We had to do this much earlier. Never have I craved that much for love. This man turned my whole world upside down. All through the night we lied on the couch caressing each other until I decided to leave. I got dressed and gave Rex a passionate kiss until I realized I’m trapped. I went by Vinnie‘s car and it’s already half past midnight.

„Rex, do you mind driving me home?“, I asked carefully.

Without any hesitation he replied: „Sure, Y/N, I would do anything for you.“

The next few days went by so quickly. Rex and I were partying at the Abbott‘s house, cuddling in the cinema or just dancing in the club. I completely forgot about the upcoming vacation in New Orleans. My parents insisted on going with me because it would probably be our last vacation together as I’m an adult now. When I asked them for money they couldn’t emphasize enough that I’m not a teenager anymore but forcing me to go on vacation was mandatory. I enjoyed staying in New Orleans in the past to hook up with Philip but the current situation has made it difficult. Not that I didn’t want to see Phil. The relationship with Rex wasn’t defined yet. We were lovers who had a great time together but it was too early to tell whether we’re in a steady relationship or just dating. But I always was above myself when I met him.

Present

„Mom, can I have your car this evening?“, I beseeched, hoping for some help.

„We have spoken about it, darling. Last time you crashed our car. We had to pay 1000 dollars for the repair. We trust in you but we want to go on vacation tomorrow.“, my mom kept reading the newspaper without looking at me.

I’ve had enough. They haven’t let me use the car since the accident.

„Can I use the telephone at least?“, I said ironically, expecting a harsh response from my mother. She didn’t react.

I stood up and dialed Darrell‘s phone number. It was half past 2 in the afternoon. They were probably sleeping. After 3 beeps someone finally picked up the phone: „Hello, who’s there?“

A familiar voice yelled at the telephone receiver and made me wince. Vinnie was already awake and it wasn’t him I wanted to talk to. But it was urgent.

„Hey Vince, it’s me, Y/N.“

„Good morning, Rex is not here. He didn’t come home last night. Dunno what he’s doing, man. Can’t help, sorry, dude.“

„And where could he be right at the moment?“, I already had teary eyes.

„Dude, I don’t know. Fucking some other girl? Okay, sorry for my crude manners.“ Vinnie sounded annoyed. It was sheer torment to talk to him.

„Could you tell him to call me asap? I need to talk to him. It’s important.“, I begged, fearing that Vince wouldn’t tell Rex.

„Yeah, sure, man. Bye.“

Don’t cry, I thought to myself, don’t turn around to your mother. Without saying a word I left the kitchen and locked myself in my bedroom.

Rex didn’t call me. I was sad, incredibly upset and I had to leave this morning. Actually I should’ve taken the bus to the club and found him. But I was too tired from packing my bags. For that reason I went to bed early and slept until my mom woke me up.

The flight was delayed but we still managed to arrive in time for dinner in the hotel restaurant. In complete silence we sat at the table and listened to a big band playing. I lost time thinking about Rex and my not answered phone call. Him fucking other girls in the secret booth or his shitty groupie van. Why was I so angry at him? He didn’t do anything wrong and had a life too. But his home was Abbott's house and this is where he was supposed to be sleeping. Lost in thoughts I ate my spaghetti and watched the big band.

My mom interrupted my trance: „Honey, dad and I want to go to our hotel room. You’ve been eating your dinner for 1 hour. We’re going to pay and you can leave when you want to. Okay, sweetie?“

„Hm? Yeah, it's okay, mom. Good night. Don’t wait for me for breakfast tomorrow.“

„Good night, honey.“ My dad gave me a kiss on my head and they both left the restaurant.

I gave up on finishing dinner and also decided to leave. Fortunately I didn’t share a bedroom with my parents anymore. I could come and leave when I wanted to. So that I had nothing to worry about, I jumped under the shower, changed my clothes and put on makeup. Nervously I dialed Philips number and waited for someone to answer the call. And it was actually Philip who picked up the phone.

„Hello?“ How I missed his voice. So deep and sexy.

„Hey Philip, guess who’s New Orleans?“, I laughed.

„Your voice sounds familiar. Do you have long hair and a big butt? That girl that loves to suck my dick? Then yeah, it’s Y/N.“

„Do you want me to suck your dick tonight?“, I moaned. He loved it when I moaned into his ear while he was taking me.

„It’s already getting hard, baby.“, he groaned.

„Meet me at the hotel? Same place as every year?“

„30 minutes? Can’t wait, babe. See ya later.“

„See ya.“, I hung up.

I couldn’t imagine what I did. Three days ago I had a nice evening with Rex in the club and then had sex in his car. Now I was playing with the devil again because it felt like Rex dumped me the night before I left. Though he really didn't, it was like he cheated on me. Now it was my turn.

30 minutes was a long time and I was bored of waiting for Philip to come. So I decided to visit the bar and get some of those fuzzy drinks to get ready.

The hotel bar was quite empty because it was a Wednesday evening and people had to work tomorrow. I lounged in a burgundy colored armchair and enjoyed drinking a martini which was delicious rather than drinking beer in the sticky club. I wore my tightest black dress with a huge cleavage and what a surprise, I bedecked myself with red high heels. Philip always got so horny when I was dressed a bit slutty. But not only Philip was interested in me. Bunch of other men in the bar were staring at my long legs.

I ordered my second martini and checked the time. 10 minutes left. Time to smoke a cigarette.

It was a cold evening. He would see my nipples through my transparent dress. And then he arrived, dressed in light blue jeans and a black shirt, casual. He smirked and whistled.

„Hey babe, wanna fuck?“, he asked nonchalantly. I pulled him close and kissed him seductively. His tongue immediately parted my lips and left a wet spot on my chin. He pressed me against the wall and didn’t care about the people who joined me smoking earlier. The way he touched my body made me shiver. I couldn’t wait to enter my hotel room and him to enter me. The hotel guests were staring at us. Unsurprisingly Philip showed him the middle finger and we both went inside. He clapped my ass as we entered the lobby, on our way to the elevator.

In the very next moment we were alone in the elevator and Philip decided to push a button to stop the elevator from moving.

„Ever had sex in the elevator?“, he whispered in my ear.

At exactly the same time he lifted me up, pressed me against the cold mirror behind us and continued brushing his lips against mine. He was an excellent French kisser. He pushed his tongue deeper into my throat which made me gag. Then he stopped for a second, unbuckled his belt and unpacked his long dick. He searched for my slip until he realized I wasn’t wearing any.

„Dirty little thing, and so wet.“, his deep voice made me even wetter.

„Fuck me right now! I’m starving.“, I beseeched.

„But didn’t you tell me you want to suck me dick first?“

„I would do everything for a good fuck.“

„On your knees!“

I kneed in front of Philip’s huge cock and started sucking. At the same time he grabbed a bunch of my hair and started moving my head back and forth. His cock filled my mouth entirely and let my saliva drop down.

„You’re a good girl. In return for your services I’m gonna fuck till you walking side to side.“, he moaned.

He pressed my face against the mirror, left my dress and screwed me doggy style. With legs wide open I felt how his balls bumped against my clit.

„Gosh, you’re so tight, baby.“, he remarked.

I pressed my butt closer to his dick so that he thrusted harder. But he stopped.

With the devil's smile he demanded: „We should go into your bedroom to finish this.“ His dick left my pussy and made me feel empty.

I obeyed and pushed the button to let the elevator slide up to the 3rd floor. Hurriedly we walked to the hotel room and opened the door. My room was a bit untidy but Philip didn’t care about that. Clothes were laying on the floor but I still haven’t unpacked my luggage. It smelled like perfume and shampoo because I showered earlier. Philip always loved my perfume. His soft side described my smell as flowery and sweet.

„Why are you still clothed?“, I noticed while I sprawled on my bed seductively. Full of verve I threw my high heels over to Philip. He jumped on top of me and pressed my arms against the bed. Right away he undressed himself and I could do nothing but stare at his perfectly formed body. His chest was so smooth and his skin was tanned. While he took off his pants I also undressed me. We were both completely naked and horny. I automatically opened my legs to grant him entrance. He immediately thrusted into my wet pussy while groaning into my ears. His kisses on my neck made me moan and left a trail of hickies. My parents would totally know what I did last night. I was happy their room wasn’t next to mine.

Filled with lust he fastened his pace until I screamed: „Philip, fuck, I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop.“

„Babe, you feel so good.“ These were his last words before he filled my cup.

„Fuck, I’ve missed this.“, he said breathlessly. Slowly he removed his body and took a deep breath. I stood up to clean myself in the bathroom. As I was done showering, I found Philip covered in my blanket and sleeping in my bed.

The next morning something happened I would never have expected. I woke up and saw a huge breakfast buffet on my bed. Croissants, fruits, juice and coffee well arranged on a silver plate. The smell of coffee tickled my nose. I loved coffee. The shower stopped splashing and I saw a shadow leaving the steam. With only a towel around the waist Philip entered the bedroom and sat down on the edge of my bed.

„Good morning! I secretly grabbed some food from the buffet.“, he softly said.

„Oh wow, Philip. This is so… kind. Is everything okay?“, I asked carefully. I didn’t know he’s up to doing that.

„I thought you’re hungry. I mean, you know, I fucked you like an animal last night.“

„Thank you. I don’t know what to say.“

„So it’s my turn to speak. I’ve got big news for you but it’s a surprise. I won’t tell you anything. Just see.“, he kept being mysterious.

I hated surprises. Even birthday surprises were a big deal. He slipped closer to me and gave me a kiss on my forehead. That kind of love language wasn’t typical for him. Slowly I accepted him as a sweetheart. At first I used him as a distraction but the more I looked at him the more I fell in love with him. Instead of being happy about things finally going further in our relationship, I ended up having the worst lovesickness ever. There was another person waiting for me. Rex. I haven’t called him yet. I just drove to New Orleans without leaving any message. Which one was more likely to forget? I would come home and be near Rex. Philip still would be in New Orleans. It sounded easy. Forget about Philip. This would be my last vacation hereafter. My parents wouldn’t beg me anymore. The time had come. I was a legal adult. Old enough to choose between two men.

„Philip.. I…“, I couldn’t finish my sentence.

„Call me Phil. You sound like my mom.“, he laughed. His still wet hair left drops of water on my thigh while he was crawling closer to me. He put the tray aside and towered over me. Why didn’t he let me finish my sentence? I was about to break up with him. Was I? But his perfectly shaped body and his tanned southern skin bewitched me instead. I grabbed his towel which was still tied around his waist and exposed his boner. With closed eyes I surrendered to his desire and we moved to the same rhythm until the end of day.

We did this everyday until I had to leave. I haven’t spoken about it with anyone. My parents didn’t know what I had been doing for a week. Excuses like „I am tired“ or „I want to go for a walk alone“ appeared on my agenda. I couldn’t tell my mom after being lovesick because I nearly dumped Rex that I hooked up with the next guy. She knew in the past that I went to a club here in New Orleans to see Phil's band Razor White. But since he left the band he has been more susceptible to my needs. I was indeed very curious why he left the band and if he found something new but all he could reveal was that it would be recommencement. For who? For us? He wanted me to be patient and didn’t even tell me how long I had to wait.

The goodbye last night was kind of emotional. We managed to sneak out of my room and nestled on the beach. Though it was November and freezing we snuggled in a blanket and watched the sunset. We smooched under the starry sky without thinking about our future. Without the fear of consequences we lived in the moment. We were happy but at what cost?

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draculasstrawhat · 2 years ago

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Also, am I cannot stress this enough, but: I write characters drinking because human beings drink.

And if you’re going to go all, “Ah, but human beings also poop and pee and menstruate and sneeze! Are you going to show that????” the answer is:

1) Yes, if it’s relevant thematically, or to the character/plot. One of my books actually starts with the MC pissing, so there’s that.

2) Humans do none of those other things are their primary social/bonding/celebration activity. Like, sure, sometimes I’ll show a character using the toilet, or having a period, or sneezing, if it’s relevant. But drinking - or a character’s attitude to drink - is ALWAYS relevant.

I don’t care about the rights or wrongs or it, or whether you think people should use booze in that way - the fact is that they do! And showing all the ways that people interact with it is a really good way of showing how they move through the world.

Honestly, I’ve always felt that if you’re plot is struggling and you’re having trouble getting in to a character’s head - put them in proximity to alcohol.

Jake handed him a beer and sat down the swinging seat, “Take your time - we’ve got all night.”

—-

She looked at her husband, then grabbed the bottle of beer standing on the kitchen island and took a long, long drink. “Alright. Explain.”

—-

“C’mon, one drink.”

“No.”

“Just one drink. We’ve earned it.”

“Ugh, one then. ONE. Then we’ve go back.”

—-

“How about a beer?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be driving?”

“It’s one beer…”

—-

“How about a beer?”

“I don’t drink.”

“Not even at Christmas?”

“Not even then.”

—-

When she walked through the door, her wife took one look at her and handed her a beer, still cold from the fridge. “Figure you need this.”

“Uh-huh.”

“C’mon, put your feet up. I’ll make supper.”

— -

“Two pints of Stella and a bitter, please.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to see some ID, mate.”

This tweet is just... Odd. Very odd.

Like... You live like this? You write like this? You think like this??

#alcohol #writing

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cyanlastride · 4 months ago

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i dont want to be alone right now.

okay. youre not. just focus on me.

i feel like im barely holding it together. theres so much--

stop. focus on me.

your future problems are not immediate. we will handle them together. first we have to handle today.

and tomorrow.

tomorrow comes tomorrow. theres nothing else to do tonight. focus on me. breathe. live tonight.

dont think about anyone or anything else. just me. just this moment.

you remember this. this is familiar. youve done this a million times. fuck, you were punched here and brushed it off like nothing. got a cool story out of it. a good memory. remember her compliment? that is the person you are tonight. nothing phases you. you are brave. you are compassionate. you had to call the police! that was the most stressful part of the whole thing, but you handled it! you are strong. when it counts, you are the strongest person i know. thats good. breathe easy. the moon is beautiful tonight, isnt it?

i wonder how she would react if she knew i would live off her words in that moment?

i think she probably knew. and i also think it was genuine. thats what she got from it. nice people know how strong being nice can be.

yeah, probably.

youre not a nice person. you put on a good show, but we both know im the nice one. but you know what you are? youre the strong one. you take after her more than you know.

mm.

its okay to rely on her. but you can rely on yourself, too. youre all in this together. and ill be here too, for you.

i really do love you. we started here, right?

basically. i was around before, but here was when you started listening.

im sorry i didnt start listening sooner.

its okay. honestly, you werent ready. too focused on being normal. needing to be normal.

yeah, i guess i dont really worry about that anymore, huh?

you dont even think about it. we still hide me, but thats more out of habit and my own nervousness than anything.

i wonder what they would think?

of me? mmm. id need booze. a fair amount. about as much as when she was willing to talk to you.

hm. that might happen.

i doubt it. not happening at mels, for sure, and i dont think sunday is happening at all.

so much drama!

so much.

... is everyone like this?

yeah, i think so. its pretty rare for people to genuinely get along. always compromises. always rough edges.

gaps exist for a reason.

yup.

oh god. whats going to happen after this?

... im going to be honest here. cherish tomorrow. sleep well tonight, and live your best tomorrow. it might be an ending.

okay.

are you okay?

yes. i knew this was coming eventually. leave the club better than i found it. im finally giving back.

see? i knew you were strong.

thank you.

ill be with you tomorrow, okay? im not going anywhere but by your side. remember to trust them.

ive got this.

there ya go. <3

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borderline-gays-club · 2 years ago

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Progress moment id like to share!!!

Ok so I went on like 3 dates with a guy over the span of like 2ish months? Prob less time, but anyway doesn’t matter. And things were going well till the 3rd date…

He didn’t fully confirm the time till like a day before, he showed up almost an hour late (and smelled of booze from the nite before), and then broke a boundary of mine at the end (although he said he misunderstood me. At this point idk if I wasn’t clear enough or hes just saying that. Idk doesn’t matter now).

Anyway yah all pretty bad things, even if none of it was malicious. But I seriously considered still giving him a chance as long as he never repeated all those things.

But then I started to feel conflict internally. I was feeling like I wanted to hide all these things from my friend (who’s opinion I deeply value and respect), and started to feel like I had to like “teach” him a lot of shit.

So I really sat with the feeling and sorted thru my data rather than listening to the voice in my head that likes to gaslight me.

And according to the data I gathered from just observing and interacting with him, he actually had a good amount of red flags that were more subtle (at least for me). I’ll list them just for me to look back on.

-bartender that drinks for his job (personal red flag cus ppl that drink heavily are triggering for me)

-mentioned blacking out recently

-definitely has been in the service industry for a while (red flag cus ppl tend to get stuck in that cycle and I would kno)

-mentioned something a bit strange abt turning empathy on and off. (Mayb not a red flag but I guess I was more confused abt it)

-didn’t follow thru with something I asked him to do (wasn’t taking it serious enough).

-was pretty bad at communicating, like didn’t respond for over a week when trying to make plans.

And ya there were prob more little things I just can’t remember but those are the ones I can think of rn.

So ya looking at all of this I was like damn..I guess he’s got to go!! Bc also I notice a red flag in myself is when I feel the need to b sneaky and like omit information. And like trying to excuse or reason with myself that’s oh theyre not bad, they’re not malicious etc.

And to note, bc my past experiences with ppl have been so horrendous, my scale of wat is ok and wat isn’t is incredibly fucked. Where basically if it’s not blatantly terrible then I’m like welll it can change! Or like it’s fine I can ignore it!

In conclusion, even if ppl aren’t malicious or actively trying to hurt me, if they cannot meet me where I’m at and respect my time and energy then it simply cannot work.

It’s taken me so long to be able to really be active abt this but I’m here now and I’m proud of myself for ending things with him. Bc honestly it prob would’ve just gotten worse if he showed me that much of himself so early on.

I don’t have hard feelings towards him, and I was excited to pursue this D/s dynamic with him but unfortunately it didn’t work. It was hard to make that decision, and tbh I cried abt it, but I’d rather b disappointed than to have my fucking heart shattered and pummeled again lol.

All I have to do is see all the mistakes I made in my most recent relationship and how it just destroyed me bc I actively ignored all the red flags. NEVER AGAIN!! I fucking refuse.

#actually bpd #bgc #bpd #bpd thoughts #quiet borderline #actually borderline #bpd shit

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chvndlr · 1 year ago

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"Do I need to remove my shoes and bring my ID as well?" Chandler rolled his eyes at Beck's security checkpoints. He was a grown man, the same age as Beck. "Oh, yeah. Totally. That's what every sober bar needs, right? The temptation of alcohol?"

Even Chandler could recognize that he'd already had some alcohol, so switching the drinks didn't prove he couldn't go without. But his willingness to give up his booze should have counted for something. He'd give Beck his flask too if he thought he could without drawing attention to them.

As Beck continued, Chandler looked away for a moment. He had his walls for a reason, and someone showing concern for him was never safe growing up. Back then, if people looked too close...he could have lost everything, and his mom had made it clear he'd have no one to blame but himself. Even grown, knowing she was wrong, having someone look too closely or care too much still made him nervous as hell. If you need it...I'll help you figure it out. He swallowed hard. That was good, right? But it was also a moot point. Chandler didn't need it, he just liked it. Maybe he was getting a little too old to party like a college student, but his body was keeping up with it fine and he was holding down two jobs - one of which was his own business - and taking care of himself and his pets. Life felt okay, the most stable it had been in years. So why was Beck bringing this up? Chandler quickly decided he was going to stop drinking for a few days, just to show Beck that he was fully in control of the situation, and then he'd go back to the way things had always been. But since he was so convinced he knew he could go without drinking, he shook his head.

"Thanks, dude. But I'm okay. Really." His words sounded dismissive, and he knew they probably would before he even said them. So he took a swig of his drink, despite knowing there was no alcohol in it, and pretended he'd just had more than fruit juice. Not ready to make eye contact again, his eyes went to the rim of his glass as his finger traced the rim of it. "You didn't know me before I came here. Merrock's been really good for me. It's the first time in my life things have felt...." he took a deep breath, hesitating slightly. "manageable."

"Next time, I'm going to bring a metal detector and check you for flasks," he mumbled, a little annoyed maybe but not a snitch. "Maybe we should tell the owner she should just put alcohol in it," he joked, "bars have mocktail options, sober bars should have alcohol options." Okay, he could leave that alone for now.

He sighed as Chan decided to make a point instead of simply answering the question. It wasn't quite the point he thought he was making either because he'd already had some. Beck knew there were some dark things in his head, things that as he had said didn't fully go away. A little escapism every now and then didn't hurt, but bringing alcohol into a sober bar--sneaking alcohol into a sober bar--didn't exactly say 'every now and then.' "I feel so much better, thanks," he muttered sarcastically, but he was still going to drink it.

This felt like things with Shosh though, how he let her gloss over things with Frank at first and accepted that things were bad and not healthy but hadn't pushed beneath the surface until he had to confront an image of her devastation and trauma he couldn't fully get out of his head. However, they were in a poor position to talk deeper things while still hiding what he'd done from the other patrons around them. "Look, I'm not going to tell you how to live your life, okay? But I have concerns, Chan, and I've got no problems making things weird if they need to be weird. I told you before I'm not going to judge you. Still stands. That's all I'm trying to say. If you need it, we'll figure it out. I'll help you figure it out."

#(beck.)#alcoholism tw #child abuse tw #gaslighting tw #mental illness tw #(//just trying to cover all my bases here but most of these were barely touched on or implied.)

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wordsnwhiskey · 4 years ago

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As It Should Be | Chapter 4: Company

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x F!Reader x Frankie Morales

Summary: Whiskey gets a surprised call and he and Frankie have a long talk.

Rating: M

Warnings: Talks of drug use, alcohol, mentions of character death, mentions of canon typical violence, PTSD, violent nightmare

A/N: I really wanted this conversation to happen between these two given their respective histories. We all know that Whiskey needed therapy and in this verse he gets it. It’s also my HC, from what I vaguely know (I’m not an expert and I could be very wrong), that Whiskey was an officer in the Air Force where he flew/placed in jets and that’s how he knows how to fly an F-22 (The Silver Pony).

We are getting some angst and some fluff this time folks!

Also, yes I do have a specific soap in mind for Whiskey, it's Old Glory by Duke Cannon

Huge special thanks to mi esposa @danniburgh and my friend Agent Capri Sun for the betas and encouragement!!

Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Chapter 3: Statesmen & Demons | AO3

He was drowning. He needed...something. He needed help.

Frankie pulled his phone out, went to the recent number that was, as of yet, unsaved, and pressed ‘call’. His shaky hand brought the phone up to his ear as the line rang.

Whiskey’s hair was still wet from his shower, and his white t-shirt clung to his damp skin. Eyeing the take out on his counter, he sank into his couch and smiled at your texts:

Whiskey: Thai sound good, sweetheart?

Bourbon: God yes Jack, I’m starving!

Whiskey: I’ll let you know when I get outta the shower, see you soon sweetheart

He was just about to send you a message to come on over when his phone rang. Glancing at the clock on his stove, then back to the unfamiliar Texas number on his caller ID, he frowned.

“Whiskey.”

His greeting was curt. Who the hell would be calling at 8:30 pm on a Wednesday?

“H-hey Whiskey, it’s me, Frankie. Is… uh, is she there?”

Whiskey’s frown deepened, not that he minded Frankie calling him, far from it, but his voice was cracking like he’d been... crying?

“Oh, hey there, Flyboy. No she isn’t, do you need me to get her?”

“N-no, no… I, uh, I don’t want her to see me right now. I’m, uh,” Whiskey could hear Frankie take a deep breath on the other side of the line. “I’m having a bad night, Jack. Could you come get me? I’m at the hotel.”

Jack shot straight up, practically leaping to his feet.

“Did you…?”

The question clung to the air like lead, crushing both of their chests in the silence.

“No, I haven’t… I just… fuck.”

Jack was moving, grabbing his leather jacket, keys, and Stetson, practically sprinting out the door.

“Don’t worry about it, Flyboy. I’m headed your way.”

He shifted his weight while he waited for the elevator to take him to the parking garage, shooting off a quick text to you in apology. Frankie’s words, “I don’t want her to see me,” rung in his ears and he decided to hold off on telling you what had come up, at least until he could see you at the office tomorrow.

Whiskey: Hey sweetheart, sorry something came up and I can’t do dinner tonight. Everything’s fine, see you at the office, sugar. X

Your phone went off and you quickly unlocked it, eager to hear back from Jack so you could head over. A frown pulled the corners of your lips down at his text, but you knew he wouldn’t cancel on you without good reason.

You: See you tomorrow, cowboy. Better make it up to me ;)

Frankie had left the door slightly ajar and was pacing around his room, arms crossed in front of him when he heard a quick knock, then the handle was turning and Whiskey crossed the threshold. He took a cursory glance around the room: nothing but minibar booze bottles, thankfully. Whiskey let out a sigh of relief that was short-lived when he took in Frankie’s demeanor. Frankie’s face was taut with shame, and his gaze refused to rise any higher than Whiskey’s boots.

“I didn’t know who else to call,” Frankie choked out, “ Pope, and Hawk… I can’t disappoint them again. I’ve been clean for three years, and I didn’t…”

Jack shook his head and beckoned Frankie over, wrapping his arm around the other man’s shoulders and pulling him in for a quick, tight hug.

“C’mon, Flyboy, this is not the time nor the place to talk about this. I’m taking you back to my place, and we’re gonna have some whiskey that’s much better than what you’ve had here, and then we can talk.”

Frankie nodded and grabbed his hat, planting it on his head as Whiskey tugged him out of the hotel room. He was so deep in his thoughts and his guilt for having Whiskey come out that he didn’t realize where he was until the elevator dinged. Whiskey unlocked and opened the door to his condo, giving way to a view so incredible Frankie almost forgot to breathe. Across from the entryway, on the far side of the condo, the gorgeous New York night skyline twinkled back at them from beyond the wall of glass windows. Frankie marveled at the rustic elegance of Jack’s home. It had an entirely open floor plan, giving Frankie a view of the dark cherry butcher block island, the top-of-the-line range top, and other appliances, all immaculately clean. For a moment, he wondered if that was because Whiskey ordered out more than he cooked, but then he saw the bags of takeout on the counter and immediately felt guilty.

“I’m sorry, looks like I interrupted your dinner plans.”

Whiskey closed and locked the door behind him, hanging his jacket up on the nearby hook. He glanced over at the takeout, then put his hand on Frankie’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it, partner. I just told her something came up. You hungry? I ordered her Drunken Noodles, be a shame to put them to waste.”

Frankie was about to decline when his stomach rumbled, and Whiskey chuckled.

“C’mon, Flyboy, go sit down on the couch and I’ll bring the food and some whiskey round.”

With a nod, he toed his dress shoes off (they were all he had without his go bag) and made for the brown leather couch. He sat down a bit stiffly, feeling awkward given the circumstances. Whiskey brought over the containers of food, handing one to Frankie and resting his own on the coffee table before grabbing them the promised drinks. He sat down, and Frankie took his drink in one hand, relishing in the smooth burn as he took a sip, then set it down to dive into his food.

They ate in a relaxed and cozy silence. Frankie finished first, which wasn’t a surprise. When Whiskey finished, he took Frankie’s empty container with him to toss in the garbage before he made his way back. An awkward silence replaced the previous comfortable one, and Frankie found himself having a hard time pulling his gaze from the amber liquid in his glass. Whiskey took a deep breath, then turned on the couch to face Frankie.

“Santiago said you’ve been clean for three years? That’s quite the accomplishment.”

“Yeah, thanks. Doesn’t really feel like it right now. I feel like I failed. I’m worried I’ll slip up.”

“I don’t think you will, Frankie. Neither do Pope or Bourbon.”

Jack didn’t know why, but the words rang true in his mind, even though he hadn’t known Frankie for very long.

“You don’t seem like the kind of guy to throw three years of hard work away, Flyboy.”

A small smile tugged at Frankie’s lips and he took a sip from his glass.

“Must’ve been weird for Halcón. Last time she saw me, fuck, I was barely with it. The suspension hit me hard. I had been getting my shit together before Colombia and the funeral. I just wanted to be able to fly. I couldn’t and still can’t stand the idea of being grounded. That, and I knew my fianceé would leave me if I didn’t get it together. But then, well, we all went to Colombia.”

“I couldn’t imagine being grounded. I don’t fly often, but to not have the option? I dunno what I’d do.”

Whiskey shook his head and grimaced. Frankie perked up, head snapping to meet Whiskey’s gaze.

“You fly?”

“Mmmhmm, was in the Air Force for a bit, did jets. Statesmen has an F-22, the Silver Pony, that I fly.”

A small buzz of excitement was washing over Frankie, and he subconsciously scooted closer to Whiskey. He didn’t really have anyone to talk to about flying, even if helicopters and jets were two very different means of flying.

“What made you risk it, Flyboy? What happened in Colombia?”

Frankie frowned and let out a deep sigh.

“Pope had been down there for a few years, chasing a narco named Gabriel Martín Lorea. He finally got a break when his CI told him she knew where he was hiding out and where he was stashing his money. He showed up outta the blue asking us, our old team, to come down and do recon, $17k just for a week of recon. If we wanted to stay on after that, we’d be entitled to 25% of whatever we seized, and the rumour was that Lorea had $75M on him. I’m guessing Halcón was busy with a mission for you guys, and I’m glad she was. It ended up being a fucking shitshow.”

Whiskey noted the faraway look in Frankie’s eyes as he sighed and took another swig from his glass, shaking his head as Frankie recalled the events.

“After the recon, Pope said he thought we could do the job ourselves, take all the money and not tell the local governments. We found out that the local agency hadn’t been the ones to pay us the $17k. That had come out of Pope’s pocket. He was so sure that the locals were on Lorea’s payroll, and if he went to the local agency, Lorea would disappear with the money. At the end of the day, none of us could say no. Turned out the rumors of Lorea having $75M were wrong. The house was stuffed, literally, with cash. Tom, our captain, got greedy. He ignored our hard-out time and insisted we take more loads of cash. We ended up stealing close to $250M, then we burned the house down.”

Whiskey whistled. “$250M is a lot of money, partner…”

Frankie barked out a humorless laugh, his eyes rueful.

“Too much. Our helo couldn’t take it all and make it over the Andes. I knew it before take off, and I warned Tom and Pope, but all any of us could see was the money. Tom didn’t want to leave it on the runway. I almost had us over the Andes when a gearbox blew, and I had to get us back to flat. We had to cut the money net, and it was just our luck that it happened to be over a coke farm. It was a bad landing. I honestly don’t know how none of us were seriously injured, but Pope and Tom went to go and convince the farmers to get out of the money. Our comms were out, so we were going off of hand signals. Tom got too trigger happy, and he dropped a few of the villagers. I-I provided cover fire, too…”

Frankie hung his head, no matter how much Will, Benny, or Pope had tried to reassure him, he still held an enormous amount of guilt over what had happened. He felt Whiskey’s hand rest on his shoulder, and he leaned into the touch.

“That’s what you were trained to do, Flyboy. You couldn’t have known any different, especially without comms.”

Frankie nodded, taking a large gulp of his whiskey, then continued on.

“A couple days later, we took fire in the mountains, and they got Tom. It ended up being a kid and another guy from the coke farm. We killed them, but there was nothing we could do for Tom. Headshot, he died instantly. 10 years we all served together, and then he was gone, leaving behind an ex and two daughters. It could have been any one of us though, Jack… we all took lives during that mission. Tom just took the wrong ones. It… it could have been me even, I shot some of those villagers, too.”

Frankie felt Whiskey’s grip on his shoulder tighten and looked up to see the empathetic sadness of someone who truly understood how he felt reflected back in Whiskey’s eyes. Frankie cleared his throat.

“We ended up bailing on a lot of the cash, taking only what we could carry in our daypacks and tossing the rest in a ravine so we could haul Tom’s body out with us. At the end of it, we made out with around $5M, but we all agreed it should go to Tom’s family. I got back to find my fianceé had left. She couldn’t stand my leaving with Pope. Looking back, my addiction is probably what really did us in, but I was devastated to come home to an empty house after everything that had happened. Things got… dark after that. I fell back on old habits, fuck, I had barely been clean a few months when we went to Colombia. I didn’t want to think about what we’d done there, didn’t want to feel the emptiness, didn’t want to sleep and deal with the nightmares. I was a mess, and I… uh, I took too much one day. Pope found me unconscious, lying on the ground, and got me to the hospital. When I came to, I realized I didn’t want to end up dead in my shitty apartment, once they discharged me, I checked into rehab.”

Frankie took another drink. No one other than Pope knew that knocking on death’s door had been the turning point for him. Whiskey chewed on his lip, taking a drink and debating whether he should share his past as well.

“Drugs are… a terrible thing to get hooked on. My high school sweetheart, carrying my unborn son, was murdered by two meth head freaks robbing a fucking convenience store. I was on leave from the Air Force, waiting for them to come home when I got the call. I didn’t realize how much it festered in me until about a year back when we were taking down the Golden Circle.”

Frankie nodded. He remembered that he had been glad he was clean by then.

“I’m sorry, Whiskey… I didn’t know, I shouldn’t have-”

Jack’s hand moved from Frankie’s shoulder to rub his back reassuringly.

“Listen, the things you’ve done and seen for our country… and not, well, it’s a lot, and I know it’s not the same as the freaks who… it’s not the same. I almost sabotaged the mission. My hate-addled brain thought it would be justice… It was Bourbon who very literally knocked me on my ass and kept me from making a decision I’d regret. She encouraged me to see a Statesmen counselor, which has been a lot of work, but has been more helpful than I ever thought it would be. Have you thought about that?”

Frankie was distracted for a moment by Jack’s hand. It felt nice, reassuring, safe, things that had been sorely lacking for him today.

“I have and I did, well, I had to as part of the program, and I kept it up for a bit after. It helped, but… I couldn’t really talk about what happened with Tom. Sure there’s confidentiality and all that, but what we did is all kinds of illegal. I couldn’t exactly bring that to a session or group.”

Frankie snorted, a ghost of a smile tugged at a corner of his mouth.

“Really though, aside from the program I was in after rehab to get my license back, I’ve gotten some hobbies and some other out-outlets. This was just a lot. I needed to not be alone.”

Jack cocked his head at the way Frankie stuttered and subconsciously fidgeted with the bandage on his right wrist. He had picked up from the night prior that Frankie had a thing for pain, and Frankie’s reaction when he had bandaged him up was further proof of that. But using it as his sole outlet or method of working through his issues was something he wouldn’t enable. His eyes narrowed, and before Frankie could blink, Jack snatched his left hand, mindful of the tender marks as he held fast and fixed Frankie with a hard stare. Frankie flinched at the sudden movement then his eyes widened a little.

“You know this ain’t a solution, Flyboy.”

Jack’s voice had an edge to it bordering on a growl. Frankie shook his head quickly.

“Shit, no, Whiskey, the i-impact p-play stuff, i-it’s an outlet, and it’s not my only outlet. I met my old partners, Sam and then later on her husband, a year and a half or two years ago. I was a year clean before I even had my first session with either of them. I met Sam when she booked a flight tour, and one thing led to another… She’d come back into town and sometimes her husband would come with, but we all kept everything pretty quiet. They helped me relax, and they had their fun.”

Frankie was doing his best to be nonchalant, but he couldn’t help the slight bitterness creeping into his voice. Maybe it had to do with the fact that Jack’s tone had thrown him off guard, unexpectedly stirring something in him. Whiskey, of course noticed on both counts, having been trained to do so. He could see through Frankie a mile away. Frankie nervously took another sip from his glass, shuddering as Whiskey’s thumb gingerly rubbed circles over the marks, seemingly accepting his explanation.

“You know, had I known about your… interests, I would have done things a bit differently last night, Flyboy.” He winked at Frankie, then smirked as he examined Frankie’s wrist more thoughtfully. “How are they doing?”

“G-good, thanks. And uh, well, you’re one of 3 people who know.” Frankie murmured.

Whiskey’s eyebrows raised slightly in surprise as he nodded and released Frankie’s hand.

“Really? Not Pope or Bourbon?”

“Are you kidding me? Pope would never let me hear the end of it. There are some things he doesn’t need to know.” Frankie chuckled and shook his head. “And Halcón? Well, there was never any reason for her to know. We never did anything together before last night.”

“How long has it been since you last saw Sam or her husband?”

Frankie downed the rest of his whiskey, eyes far away for a moment, remembering their last session, the sharp pain followed by a rush of endorphins and the occasional soothing praise. He shook his head gently, blinking himself out of his memories at the feeling of Jack’s warm hand on his knee.

“It’s been a while, six months? They moved overseas.”

There was a beat of silence, Whiskey could sense there was something up, it was a subtle shadow flitting across Frankie’s face. He decided to push a little more.

“Did you have feelings for them?”

“It was complicated.”

The edge in Frankie’s voice was tinged with pain, and he tried to cover it up with a laugh that came out humorless.

“I guess it isn’t that complicated. After six months, things shifted, and they made it clear I wasn’t part of their long term plan. It became very transactional, which was fine, but there was less and less... care after.”

“Oh.”

The response slipped from Jack’s lips, and he was momentarily stunned quiet before his temper began to flare. His index finger and thumb gently gripped Frankie’s chin, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Listen carefully, Flyboy. What I did last night was the bare minimum of what someone should do in that kind of situation. Anything less is negligent. Christ, how was this ever stress relief for you if you were left to free fall afterwards?”

Whiskey’s voice was calm and even, but Frankie could see the fury raging in his eyes. Sensing Whiskey’s desire for understanding, he nodded then shrugged.

“I guess I’d try to go on a hike with one of the guys or go train at the gym.”

Silence fell between them, a muscle in Whiskey’s jaw clenching before he glanced at the clock and let out a deep sigh, willing himself to calm down.

“It’s already just about midnight, Flyboy. Why don’t you go shower, and I’ll put on a clean bandage for you once you’re done. You can use my bathroom. There’s a clean towel hanging you can use. Don’t worry about clothes, I’ll leave something for you to sleep in on my bed so you can change while I set up the guest room for you.”

Frankie was about to protest, saying he could do his own bandages, but Whiskey fixed him with a stare and shook his head.

“Go on Flyboy, get yourself in the shower. Head down the hall, second door on the left. Your room is across the hall. I’ll be waiting there with the medkit when you’re done.”

Whiskey took Frankie’s empty glass and stood, taking their glasses to the sink while Frankie got up and made his way to the shower. A pensive frown tugged at Whiskey’s lips. Tonight certainly explained a lot of things. The sharp fury that permeated Whiskey’s chest when they were talking about Frankie’s previous partners returned. How could someone not be bothered with aftercare? It was also clear that Frankie felt abandoned by them. On some level, the poor man was probably terrified of that happening again, if he even entertained the thought of something between the three of you. Whiskey waited a few moments until he heard the water running before heading into his room. He let out a sigh as he grabbed a white t-shirt and a pair of linen shorts for Frankie to wear, leaving them on the bed before he left to make sure the guest room was all set.

Frankie undressed quickly, folding his clothes and setting them down on the vanity in a neat pile crowned with his hat. Next, he made quick work of unwrapping the bandage around his wrist and tossing the materials in the garbage. He let out a sigh of relief as he stepped into the shower and the hot water scoured the last two days from his skin. The relief was quickly replaced with a small whine of pain as the water hit his wrist. Closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with his forearm he breathed through the pain, acclimating to the sensation. Frankie took a minute to just exist, trying to enjoy the quiet that had slowly crept back into his mind. Taking a deep breath, he set to work getting himself clean. The steam made the air thick and heavy with the scent of Whiskey’s soap, something akin to leather and tobacco leaves. It clung to Frankie’s lungs, and he could have stayed there enjoying it for considerably longer. But, he didn’t want to keep Whiskey waiting, so he rinsed off and hopped out of the shower. He toweled off, smirking to himself when he saw it was monogrammed (because of course it was), then headed out and changed quickly into the shirt and shorts that had been left for him.

Whiskey looked up in time to see Frankie stride through the doorway wearing his shirt and shorts, smelling like him, his soap. He swallowed thickly and tried to recover with a smile.

“Feel better, Flyboy? C’mon, sit down. Let’s have a look.”

Frankie nodded, then took a seat next to Whiskey on the bed and gave him his right hand. Whiskey hummed his approval at the lack of resistance from Frankie, something the pilot felt tug at his chest.

“This is looking much better, Flyboy, should be completely healed in a few days.”

Whiskey smiled as he finished tending to and wrapping up Frankie’s wrist. Without prompting, Frankie offered his other wrist and Whiskey couldn’t bite back the smirk that followed. He was glad though, glad that Frankie was trusting him with this and was embracing these moments, even if it was for something small. Frankie’s left wrist was considerably better off, but even so, Whiskey was still gentle as he looked him over.

Frankie’s heart fluttered at the intimacy of what was happening. Here was Jack, a man he’d known for barely 48 hours, who was taking care of him, who had dropped everything to come get him, who had spent his evening letting Frankie talk. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had treated him this way.

There was an overwhelming urge building in his chest, and without thinking, he acted on it.

He gripped the collar of Whiskey’s t-shirt with one hand, tugging him closer as Frankie leaned in and kissed him. Whiskey was shocked for a moment, it had been the last thing he had been expecting, but he quickly recovered when he felt Frankie’s tongue swipe at his lip. His hand rested along the column of Frankie’s throat, thumb grazing over the scruff along his jaw as he deepened the kiss, leaning into Frankie and tasting him.

A small moan pulled Jack back to his senses, resting his forehead against Frankie’s and cupping his jaw with this other hand. They both panted, trying to catch their breath, and Whiskey smiled as he gave Frankie another quick kiss. For a moment, Frankie was worried he had overstepped when Whiskey cut off their kiss, but looking into the other man’s eyes, he knew that wasn’t the case.

“You’ve had a long day, Flyboy, we’re not gonna do anything tonight. Tomorrow though, if you want, I could help you get rid of some of that stress and help you come down the right way. No rush, no pressure, you can say no and nothing changes. I don’t want an answer right now either, sleep on it.”

Frankie’s breath quickened and his pupils dilated at the thought, but one thing nagged at him.

“What about Halcón?”

Whiskey chuckled and patted Frankie’s shoulder.

“Well it’s what we both want, in a manner of speaking. She’d be onboard, but she doesn’t have to know exactly what we do for now unless you’re comfortable with it. A lot of this is stuff I know she wants to go over on Friday, but for now, when it comes to me and Bourbon, keep an open mind and try not to overthink it, partner. If you want to do this tomorrow, then we can do it. If not, no harm, no foul, you’re still welcome to stay here and keep me company.”

Frankie nodded, still processing what Whiskey had said and more than a little surprised that Whiskey was inviting him back regardless of his decision. Whiskey stood up then, squeezing Frankie’s shoulder.

“G’night, Flyboy. Holler if you need anything.”

Frankie was back in Colombia. He felt sluggish, his feet refusing to respond the way he wanted them to. He saw the villager from the cocaine farm pop up from the rocky outcrop, but Frankie couldn’t move, couldn’t draw his gun to take him out. He cried out in anguish as the man fired.

“No! Tom!”

Then he was surrounded by Pope, Benny, Will, you, and Whiskey, statuesque as the man who killed Tom lined up and dropped Pope, moving his way down the line. Frankie was sobbing now, he was being swallowed up by the ground, sinking helplessly as the people he cared for were murdered.

Whiskey woke with a start to the sound of shouting.

Ripping the sheet and comforter off, Whiskey glanced at the clock. It read 01:30 and he sighed. Frankie just couldn’t catch a break.

“P-please, No! Po-Pope, God, n-no, Hal-Halcón! Whiskey!”

He really didn’t want to shake Frankie awake, worried as to how he might react waking up from that sort of dream, but Jack had to do something.

“Hey, Frankie, I’m right here, you gotta wake up. Wake up, Flyboy.”

Frankie shot up, feeling like ice water had been poured down his spine. He was wild-eyed and breathing heavily, but once again, Whiskey’s soothing words served to ground him, and he clung to them with all he had. He felt Whiskey pull him into a hug, and Frankie didn’t care about the awkward angle, he clung to the embrace as well.

Whiskey’s heart ached at the way Frankie clutched at him after hearing him call out Pope’s, his, and your names. He had a vague idea of what might have happened, he still had dreams where he couldn’t save his loved ones every now and then. Once Frankie’s breathing calmed a bit, Whiskey tugged him up out of bed.

“C’mon Flyboy, you’re coming with me.”

Frankie didn’t argue, he just followed, grateful that Whiskey was pulling him by his hand, needing that point of contact. Whiskey pulled back the covers on the side opposite of his and waited until Frankie crawled in before he pulled the covers over him, then slid in on his side of the bed. He scooted a bit closer, not wanting to crowd Frankie unless he wanted the contact, and was pleased when the other man scooted back until his back rested against Jack’s chest.

“Get some sleep, Flyboy. I’ve got you.”

Sooner than he expected, Whiskey heard soft snores coming from Frankie. He smiled then wrapped his arm around him and pulled him closer.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs & comments are much appreciated!

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bahorell · 3 years ago

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Les Amis (& co.) and what they’re like camping

Enjolras: Is kinda scared of the woods. Also he’s that guy that really has a hard time putting his phone down because “I just have to respond to this one email”. “Yeah give me one second I’m dealing with a work thing”. “omg did you hear about what’s happening in Canada? It’s horrible those poor people” “Enj the point of this is to get away from everything for a couple days” “Right I know…”. So if there’s even one bar of service they gotta go find a different place. When he isn’t on his phone he’s very active in all his friends activities. He’s not super outdoors-y so he mostly tags along when other people do things. He’ll have Baz or Courf take him on rides on their paddle boards. He’ll tag along when Chetta and Ferre go on hikes. He’ll be Feuilly’s little helper person when Feuilly’s working on building the fire. Or he’ll just hand out with people at camp or on the beach of the lake/river and just talk.

Combeferre: Loves camping because of all the bugs and critters! Found the tiniest little frogs on the shore of the lake one time and made everybody look at them. Brings plant and animal and bug ID books with him and will take little leaves or flowers and stick them in the pages of the book when he thinks he found a match. He doesn’t usually snack too much when he’s at home but when he’s in the woods he is always eating something and it’s really when he’ll let himself just go balls to the wall with the junk food. The only thing he doesn’t really like about camping is that he doesn’t get to go on jogs in the morning because he’s smart enough to not run into the woods in the middle of nowhere with no service by himself.

Courfeyrac: Has an inflatable paddle board that he bought! He likes to play lifeguard and will paddle around to all his friends who are swimming and give them rides to shore. He likes to share his paddle board with his friends but he didn’t have enough money to buy a super super fancy one that has a large weight capacity so usually if someone else is on it with him it sinks into the water enough to stress him out. Also he shares a big tent with Combeferre and Enjolras and he likes to sleep in the middle of the two of them.

Joly: Invested in a super super cute small teardrop camping trailer a couple years ago. It’s easier for him to get in and out of than a tent or god forbid a hammock (Bahorel has to lift him into it then Joly wants to get in one… this is also partially because Bahorel sets up all the hammocks and they are p much impossible to get in unless you are also 6’7”) The inside of the camper is just a bed and the back hatch opens up to cabinets and drawers and a counter and stuff that makes a nice little make shift kitchen. He’ll set up the camp stove and the cooking area right next to it. He’s not super involved in any of the cooking it just gives him less stress when the food area is organized and the table legs are on a flat surface.

Jehan: Jehan tells the ghost stories. They aren’t very good at telling ghost stories so nobody really gets scared (except for Marius and if they’re really doing a good job Enj will get a little spooked). They also wake up with the sunrise so they’re up and ready to start the day at like 5am… and they really aren’t quiet about it so they manage to wake up 2/3 of everybody else at camp. Has more dietary needs than other people so when every one gets together to build a grocery list and meal plan for the trip they’ll make their own list. They really don’t mind because they HATE sharing snacks so having their own little baby cooler all to themselves is the best. Bousset: Somehow manages to have the most amazing balance and can get on and off Bahorel or Courf’s paddle boards like it’s nothing but when he gets in the canoe with anybody they somehow always tip it over within like 20 seconds. He is the opposite of Jehan he’ll sleep until like 2 in the afternoon if one of them doesn’t come to wake him up. He’s also usually in charge of getting all the booze together for the trip bc he’s very aware of what everyone likes to drink. He takes turns with Chetta sleeping in the trailer with Joly since not all three of them can fit. When he’s not sleeping in the tent he’s sharing a tent with Grantaire.

Feuilly: Fire guy. Loves the fire. Is always excited for the sun to go down so he can start the campfire. Will not take his eyes off the fire. I mean seriously. They once played never have I ever and when it got to be his turn they timed him to see how long it would take for him to realize it was his turn bc he was too busy staring at the fire to pay attention (it was a solid 4 minutes). Sleeps in a tiny little one person tent that would make anybody else claustrophobic but he LOVES it. He does set up a hammock right next to Bahorel’s. He doesn’t sleep in it but the two of them will take naps together in their hammocks. He also has to dowse his body in SPF 10000000000+ because he’s the whitest person ever, and somehow he still manages to get a sunburn on some part of his body.

Bahorel: He’s the guy thats super picky about the camp spot. “eh i mean this one is cool but it’s a little too close to the other campsite and I don’t wanna be that close to other people thats the point of this trip is to get away from everybody.” “This one WOULD be perfect but it doesn’t have good access to the lake so it’s gonna be hard for those of us that have boats to get down there” “Bahorel the boat ramp is like 1/8 of a kilometer away we can just walk down to that…” “i mean we COULD… but it just kinda sucks” Also Bahorel has this super nice hammock system with like a bug net and a rain tarp, he will not sleep on the ground because he is scared of bugs and also the baby boy likes getting rocked to sleep. He always follows Feuilly around when he’s looking for a place to put his tent and he’ll set up his hammock right next to him. And he WAILS to Feuilly when they get back home because his SKINCARE ROUTINE GOT MESSED UP FEUILLY OHHH MY GODDDD

Grantaire: Not super big on camping but if he’s with his friends he’s having fun. There’s something about being in the woods that makes him quiet… but not in a sad way. He feels really peaceful when he isn’t dealing with a bunch of people in a big city (Even tho he loves the city). He always brings stuff so that he can draw or paint the mountains or his friends on the lake but he usually doesn’t get enough time to really make anything more than a sketch. He’s not scared of water but he avoids going in the lake if it’s not a part of it that’s deeper than his tummy. He won’t get in the boats unless there’s a lot of coaxing (usually by Enj)

Marius: LOVES being in the woods. I mean really loves it. Surprisingly it’s usually Marius that sends out the text to the group chat that’s like “hey is everybody free in a couple weekends? I wanna go camping!” He just really doesn’t like going by himself or going with just one or two people. He wakes up super early as well and usually will sit with Jehan and share coffee waiting for everybody else to wake up. Sometimes the two of them will go on a little walk together. He winds down pretty early in the evening though since he wakes up so early and is usually ready for bed by like 8:45pm. He’s also that guy that wants to eat all the berries on the bushes they walk past and has almost given Combeferre a heart attack like 7 times.

Eponine: She’s… alright to camp with. She gets kinda grumpy in the mornings because of how cold it is but she warms up (both temperature wise, but also her mood) once she’s eaten and it’s gotten warmer out. She really just likes to lay in one of the communal hammocks and read book after book. She’ll also tag along with Gavroche on a lot of his little adventures. When she’s not with Gavroche or letting Combeferre show her all the little bugs and cool plants he found, she just sunbathes. For HOURS straight. Going camping for her is just a really long fun weekend to get her tan on.

Cosette: She’s so fun to camp with!! She’s like… the best person to camp with. She always does the planning and researches everything there is to do at and near the campsite. She knows all the hiking trails nearby and what areas have service and which ones don’t. She knows which campsites have lake/river access. She also makes the best camp coffee. It’s really the only time she drinks coffee unless it’s like… finals week or she’s got an early flight or something. She also ALWAYS has to tell her dad where they’re going. She shares her location and route with him on the drive there and texts him to let him know she’s about to lose service and texts him the second she has a bar of service. He’s just very protective and she wants to make sure that he knows she’s safe. Plus if anything DOES happen he knows where she’s going and can come save the day.

Musichetta: She sleeps like the entire time she’s camping. She’ll wake up in the morning and move from her tent or the camper and go lay in one of the communal hammocks near the fire ring and doze off with her hot chocolate… which she has spilled a couple times. Once it warms up a little she’s walk down to the lake or river and lay down, get her tan on, and take a nap. One of her favorite things is to go on hikes with Combeferre. He’s one of the only people in the group that can keep up with her. If they go with other people usually by the time they reach the end of the trail the rest of the group is about 2 miles behind them. One of the best parts of camping for her is going home and showering after not showering for like 3 or 4 days.

Gavroche: Spends the entirety of the first day trying to find the perfect tree to put the perfect swing on. He also likes to try to find any big rocks near the campsite and go bouldering and run around on top of them. He still really has that childhood curiosity about everything and no fear. He’ll run off trail trying to find deer or elk. If he doesn’t get back home with a couple scratches or bruises he doesn’t consider it a good camping trip. He also will swim out to Bahorel’s paddle board and Bahorel will grab him out of the water and throw him back in. Gavroche thinks it’s the most fun thing in the world even though he’s growing really fast and it’s taking a little bit more muscle every year for Bahorel to throw him as far as Gav wants him to.

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wizardofrozz · 3 years ago

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Prompt 2: Shapeshifter

Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton, Wanda Maximoff, Tony Stark

Word Count: 2,279

Warnings: swearing, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, mention of murder

A/N: There aren’t any pairings in the fic, just platonic interactions. But I’m a little self-conscious of about this fic 😬 so be nice lol

The man pressed himself against the wall, watching his target laugh loudly with his group of friends. They stumbled, obviously intoxicated, and the man shook his head, realizing how easy this would be. He stepped out of the shadows, his long hair shielding the part of his face that wasn’t covered by his mask. The group of intoxicated men stumbled into an alleyway, their laughter still echoing off the surrounding buildings as he moved closer.

Parts of the group started to break off, wandering in the direction of their homes until the target was the only one left, staggering through the alleyway. The man glanced at the camera on the corner of the building before hurrying after his mark. He approached the target silently, only reaching out when he could smell the stale scent of booze wafting off the target.

“What the…” the target gasped. The air was forced from his lungs when the masked man slammed him against the nearby wall by the throat. The light over the alleyway sparkled off the metal around the target’s throat. “O-oh my g-god…you’re…you’re the Wi-.” The target was cut off when the man closed his fist.

Steve’s piercing ringtone jolted him awake, and he scrambled around for his phone, nearly falling off his bed.

“Hello?”

“Captain Rogers.” Steve blinked, pulling the phone away from his head to read the caller ID; Secretary Ross’ office number shined back at him, and he brought the phone to his ear again.

“Secretary Ross?”

“You need to get eyes of Barnes immediately,” Ross snapped.

“What? Why?” Steve fumbled around, almost knocking his lamp over in the process of trying to turn it on.

“There’s been a possible Winter Soldier sighting, and I need to know if it’s authentic,” Ross explained through his teeth.

“Uh, yeah, okay,” Steve mumbled, sliding out of bed.

“Stark, Romanoff, and Wilson should be meeting you somewhere in the compound. They should’ve been alerted as well,” Ross added. “I expect a call when you’ve got an answer.”

“Yes, sir,” Steve hummed, hanging up before Ross could say anything else.

Pounding on his bedroom door yanked Bucky out of a dead sleep, the first he’d had in a long time. He stumbled out of bed, throwing the door open, a sleepy scowl etched deep into his face; the expression fell away when he was met with a small group outside his door. Steve stood at the front in his pajamas, Nat behind him wrapped in a fuzzy red robe, Tony looking grumpy in a t-shirt and shorts, and Sam shirtless at the back of the group. All four of them looked surprised when he answered the door, leaving an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“Did I miss the midnight invitation for a party in my bedroom?” Bucky snapped, scratching at the short stubble on his chin.

“Uh,” Steve started, blinking lamely at Bucky. “S-sorry.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Sam yawned, wandering away from Bucky’s door.

“I second that,” Nat sighed, wrapping her robe tighter around her chest and following Sam. Steve and Tony shared a look before Tony sighed and disappeared down the hall as well; Bucky stared at Steve, trying to understand what just happened.

“Steve,” Bucky pushed.

“Sorry, we, uh, got a call from Ross,” Steve supplied, mindlessly scratching at his stomach.

“About?”

“There was a report of a sighting of…of the Winter Soldier.”

The following day, Bucky sat down with Steve and Tony for a virtual conference with Ross; he wrung his hands under the table, trying to avoid fidgeting with his hair or clothes.

“Secretary Ross,” Tony greeted flatly when his face appeared on the screen.

“Gentlemen,” Ross grumbled. “Let’s cut to the chase. I need verification that Sergeant Barnes was in the compound all night.”

“FRIDAY, send Secretary Ross the footage outside Barnes’ door last night,” Tony called, dropping in the chair opposite the screen.

“It’s been taken care of, sir,” FRIDAY replied after a few seconds.

“Where was the sighting?” Steve spoke up, resting a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“New Jersey,” Ross provided, sounding slightly distracted. “There’s no other way out of his bedroom?”

“No, sir,” Steve started, but Tony cut in.

“The rooms have windows, but there are alarm systems on them, so FRIDAY would notify me if anything went in or out of the window.”

“And she can’t be overridden?” Ross raised a brow, watching Tony through his screen, looking for any signs of lying.

“Look, sir,” Bucky cut in, leaning against the table. “I understand you don’t trust me, period, but I didn’t leave the compound last night or at all yesterday now that I think about it, and I’m also not technologically inclined enough to do anything to FRIDAY.”

“Every possibility needs to be checked, Sergeant Barnes,” Ross hissed, glaring at him.

“Yes, sir. I understand, sir,” Bucky replied immediately, sitting back in his chair like a scolded child.

“I’ll have FRIDAY run a complete system scan and check for any disturbances,” Tony sighed, massaging between his eyes.

“Good,” Ross grunted. “Sergeant Barnes is not to leave the confines of the compound without an escort until further notice. I would also advise FRIDAY to keep tabs on his every movement in case of a further incident.”

Steve’s eyes scrunched shut, and he bit his tongue to keep from arguing. “Yes, sir.”

“I’ll be in touch,” was all Ross said before the call ended and Tony, Steve, and Bucky were left sitting in silence.

Bucky was vindicated a few days later when Ross decided Bucky was asleep in the compound that night. Even though Bucky was cleared to do whatever he wanted now, an anxious hum took root under his skin, leaving him on edge constantly. Steve reluctantly agreed to show Bucky the surveillance video from the incident, but it only made the sick feeling in his stomach worse. Someone was walking around with what seemed to be his face, and he had no idea who it was or why they were doing it.

A few weeks passed with no new sightings, and Bucky started to relax, giving into Sam and Steve’s begging to get out of the compound. The three decided on a bar nearby and agreed to bring Nat and Wanda along for some fresh air. Bucky managed to have a little bit of fun after the last few weeks of paranoia; Wanda sucked him into a conversation about a book she was reading when Nat got up for another drink.

“Hey,” Steve cut in, startling Bucky and Wanda. “Where’d Nat go?”

“She went to grab a drink,” Wanda provided, furrowing her brow at Steve.

“Yeah, like 10 minutes ago,” Sam added.

“Should we check on her?” Bucky asked, glancing at the slightly crowded bar.

“Maybe she went to the bathroom,” Wanda provided. “I have to go too, so I’ll see if I can find her.” The three men nodded stiffly, watching the redhead weave through the crowds of people.

“Thanks, guys,” Bucky sighed, bringing his beer to his lips again.

“You were turning into a hermit,” Sam snorted, knocking shoulders with the super-soldier.

“I had a good reason,” Bucky argued, tipping his bottle towards Sam. Steve shook his head, looking ready to add something when horror bloomed on his face, and he jumped from his chair. Sam tried to ask what happened, but he was already gone; the remaining two looked at each other before getting to their feet, following the path Steve had taken. They pushed through two people in their way, nearly running Steve over; Wanda was in front of him with a badly beaten Natasha draped over her shoulder.

“What the fuck happened,” Sam gasped, shifting around Steve. Nat lifted her head, finding Sam but her eyes quickly flickered over to Bucky, rage exploding from her.

“You!” she screamed, lunging away from Wanda. Steve sidestepped, catching Nat before she could get to Bucky.

“What happened!” Steve shouted, struggling to keep Nat caged in his arms.

“That fucking asshole a-“ Nat stopped, going limp in Steve’s grip as she looked over Bucky again, her face going slack. “But…I just…hold on.”

“Nat, I didn’t touch you,” Bucky whispered, taking a step closer.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed, her eyes growing wider at the same time Bucky’s did.

“We gotta go,” Sam suddenly said, herding the present Avengers towards the door. Bucky stumbled along, barely aware of what was going on as panic set in again; he was pushed down into the backseat of Steve’s car, pressing against Wanda’s side.

“He was there,” Bucky whispered, staring wide-eyed at the floor.

Bucky tip-toed down the dark alley, gun at the ready as he checked every nook and cranny, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Anything yet?” Steve’s crackled in his ear, scaring him, but he didn’t flinch.

“Nothing,” Bucky whispered back, quickly turning down to check another break in the buildings.

“Fuck,” Nat hissed through the earpiece. Bucky sighed, trying to release some of the tension in his shoulders and bring them down from around his ears, but he was too wound up. He could hear the faint bustle of New York City over the thump of his boots against the concrete; the team got a tip of a sighting in the city the night before and wasted no time heading out. Nat, Steve, Sam, Clint, Wanda, and Bucky were spread out around the general area of the sighting, looking for any clues.

“Oh Jesus,” Clint retched. The faint sound on his dinner coming up made Bucky’s stomach turn, and a shiver ran through him.

“Clint?” Nat’s yell echoed from a street near Bucky, and he took off running in the direction where Clint should be.

“I don’t know what the fuck this is, but, uhhh,” Clint panted. Bucky rounded the nearest corner, meeting Wanda and Sam there before heading towards Clint, who was bracing himself against a building, spitting and wiping his mouth.

“What is it?” Steve jogged towards them from the opposite direction with Nat on his heels. Clint weakly waved towards the break in the alley, refusing to turn around again; Bucky, Steve, and Sam approached slowly, searching for whatever Clint found.

“What the fuck!” Sam yelled, jumping back into Bucky. Bucky shot him an exasperated look before stepping around him to look, and man, did he regret it. It looked like a pile of clothes at first glance, but the longer he studied it, he noticed what looked like skin catching the light. Bile burned at the back of Bucky’s throat as he stumbled away, horrified, barely making it away from Sam before hurling himself. Somehow Steve and Sam managed to keep their composure as they took a closer look; Wanda and Nat didn’t even bother to try.

“Alright,” Steve mumbled, trying to hide his disgusted shiver. “Continue the sweep and look for any more of this…stuff.”

“Great,” Clint sighed, pushing away from the wall he was leaning on. Without another word, Bucky, Clint, Wanda, and Nat took off, desperate to get away from whatever the fuck they found. Bucky tried to stay focused as he moved back onto his block, but he couldn’t get the image of the pile of what he was sure now was skin. He kept walking, checking any place someone could hide, but he was still so preoccupied with their discovery that he didn’t hear the approaching footsteps. Bucky stopped to inspect the stairs that led down to the backdoor of a building when he finally heard them, but it was too late.

“I didn’t think you’d ever find me.” Bucky froze. The sound of his own voice calling out to him, taunting him, was stranger and more terrifying than he’d imagined. He slowly turned, forcing himself to keep his eyes open and never letting his guard down. Bucky’s stomach turned as he met familiar blue eyes that he was only used to seeing in the mirror.

“What…what are you,” Bucky stammered, staring at his own face twisted in a sadistic smirk.

“Bucky?” Sam said in his ear. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t really think that’s important,” Bucky’s look-a-like chuckled, lazily strolling closer.

“Kinda important to me,” Bucky snapped, tightening his grip on the gun at his side.

“Let me put it this way,” the other huffed. “It won’t matter for much longer.” Bucky was too distracted by the copy of himself walking and talking that he didn’t notice the slight movement of the copy’s left arm. Bucky stared down the barrel of the gun, his blood roaring in his ears as his heart nearly burst through his ribs; he at least had enough sense at that moment to lift his own gun.

Sam jogged to meet Steve halfway and caught a flash of Wanda’s red hair under the lights at the other end.

“Hurry up!” Steve yelled, cupping his hands around his mouth. Clint, Wanda, and Nat picked up their pace, and as soon as they were close enough, Sam and Steve fell in step. The Avengers were only a few feet from the mouth of the alleyway when the gunshot rang out, quick and efficient like the strike of a cobra. The five skid to stop, staring down at the figure facing them as the figure dropped their arm.

“Took ya long enough,” Bucky panted, stepping over the body at his feet.

“Thank god,” Steve choked out, bending to brace his hands on his knees.

“Let’s go take care of, whatever that is,” Sam offered, taking a deep breath and smacking Bucky’s shoulder as he passed.

“Nice job, buddy,” Clint sighed, elbowing Bucky before following Sam. ‘Bucky’ stood with his back to them, a dark smile slowly crawling up his face.

Masterlist

Taglist:

@marvelfansworld

#bucky barnes #james bucky barnes #james barnes #bucky fic #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes fic #steve rogers #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #clint barton #sam wilson #tony stark #halloween #shapeshifter #spooktober

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littlemisslipbalm · 4 years ago

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Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today?

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.” A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he��s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fan fic #harry styles series #little border town #harry styles one shot #harry styles af #ahghsgjfgkjdfkg #literal keyboard smash #its been so long #and no one is going to read #do y'all even remember me omg

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akmongs · 4 years ago

Text

for @harringroveweekoflove‘s day 4 prompt: school dance

billy and steve ditch prom. it's steve who suggests it, curled up against his side in the backseat of the beamer while they're sharing a smoke.

"you sure you don’t wanna miss out?"

"why would i care about going if i can't go with you?" steve says, looking genuinely confused, like it's the simplest thing in the world. and maybe it is, but billy's still getting used to this. to the unfiltered, unambiguous way steve shows him and tells him that he cares. that he chose him and keeps choosing him.

it wasn't always like this. this fragile thing between them kept safe under layers of teasing and flirting and sarcasm keeps getting realer, and billy knows he wouldn't want it any other way, but his heart still hasn't gotten the memo that it needs to stop growing three sizes every time steve surprises him with so much honesty.

can't stop his lips from pulling up at the corners either, a soft smile creeping its way to his eyes, helpless. he steals the cigarette from steve's fingers with his free hand to hide it, the other buried in the soft hair at his nape, tracing lazy patterns on the side of his neck. he takes a long drag and blows the smoke up, shuffling imperceptibly closer, head thrown back against the leather seat but eyes cast low on steve's face, his pale skin and pink lips and long brown lashes.

"so whatd'ya wanna do," he murmurs, presses his lips to steve's hairline and leaves barely-there kisses with each syllable. steve tilts his head up, nose bumping billy's as he shrugs, eyes low and smile easy, relaxed. billy, cigarette still balanced between his fingers, pushes steve’s hair back from his forehead and tugs a bit, snorts at the way his nose scrunches up and steve pulls at his necklace, fingers curled around the pendant. he rests that hand on steves’s knee then, his long legs thrown on top of his, and steve holds his wrist and strokes the back of it with his thumb.

"my house will be empty", he says, the as usual left hanging in the air. "we can go there, or we can come back here." he gestures with his chin at the car window and the quiet surroundings of the quarry. steve's hand pulls at his wrist and billy lifts his arm to bring the cigarette to his mouth, steve’s lips pressing softly against the pads of his fingers. billy stares at them as they wrap around the stick and suck.

"everyone will be at school anyway," steve continues, blowing the smoke to the side. billy drags his eyes back up to steve's, to the line of his brows. "as long as we got music and booze everywhere's good."

"sounds like you got it all figured out," billy says with a soft chuckle. he brings the cigarette back to his mouth and takes another quick drag, exhales from his nose like a dragon. "do i have to rent a tux?"

steve grins up at him, devilish, legs shuffling on top of his. "i mean, i’d love to see it," and his big doe eyes are so bright and flirty it’s dumb, dumb like the big dopey smile billy feels growing on his face that steve leans in to kiss, just a short thing that has billy chasing his lips for more, his breath hitching. "but don't bother, baby. wouldn’t last long anyway," he mumbles, raising a brow and tugging billy in by his necklace.

"oh yeah?" he purrs, amused and warm and ridiculously pleased.

"yeah," steve breathes and kisses him, hands coming up to cradle his face. billy sighs into the kiss, lips closing over steve's upper lip and sucking, tracing it with his tongue. he tosses the cigarette out of the window blindly and wraps his fingers under his thigh, shuffling to lay steve on his back and lie between his legs, steve pliant under him, all soft breaths and slow kisses.

and they already got off before, could do it again, but billy doesn't feel like he needs to. it's something steve's taught him, kissing for the sake of it. making out for the sake of it, because it feels good, not just as a means to an end. and he likes kissing steve so much, wants to do it for hours, 'til he feels lightheaded and silly, lips kiss-bruised and sore, and steve would let him, does let him, happy and enthusiastic (and his, all his).

so two weeks later, steve steals liquor from mr. harrington's cabinet, billy buys a six-pack at the gas station out of town that never id-checks him, and they ditch prom and drive to the quarry. it's empty, the music plays loud from the car’s radio and echoes, and steve smiles at him drunk and blinding like he hung the fucking moon as they share cigarettes and alcohol and kisses and laughter. steve wears a deceptively simple white button-down that probably costs more than billy's whole outfit, and billy spent an extra half-hour on his hair only for steve to ruin it in ten minutes.

"you made a fucking mixtape?" he asks, incredulous, when steve asks him to get a cassette from the glove compartment.

"of course," he says with an easy shrug, hair bouncing in his eyes, and billy looks at him, looks at the sh&bh 1985 prom written in black marker on the cover of the cassette tape, and really has to hold back from saying something stupid like i love you, like i don’t know how i got so lucky.

steve steps closer, and if it wasn't silly, billy'd think he looked shy. "no offence, babe, but nothing you like can actually be danced to." he takes the tape from billy's hands and stretches into the car to pop it in the radio, one knee on the driver's seat. steve turns the volume up as a synthy beat fills the air and stumbles back out of the car. he clears his throat and takes billy's hand, pulls him in with a smile, flush against him, chest to chest, hips to hips, and billy can only go with it, heart threatening to beat out of his chest.

steve sways him, bobs his head, starts singing along to the song and billy can't help but laugh as the chorus hits and steve goes into an impressive falsetto, never breaking eye contact like he really means what he’s singing, how they’re head over heels in love, but making the dorkiest scrunched-up face billy’s probably ever seen. laughs, head thrown back as steve sings to him, the ringing of your laughter it sounds like a melody, to once-forbidden places we'll go for a while, hands around his waist in a slow dance, the softest smile pulling up his cheeks, big brown eyes looking at billy with something like wonder as he starts chuckling himself.

and billy can't believe what he's doing, dancing with a boy in hawkins, indiana, where he thought he'd either die of be killed, where instead he found a boy that loves him and makes him laugh and makes him feel like the beginning of his life is right here, in this moment, with fucking alphaville playing, wrapped in steve harrington's arms.

"you’re a fucking sap," he says and means i love you, and steves leans in, foreheads touching, noses bumping, smiles brushing in a kiss that says i know.

#harringrove #harringroveweekoflove #hwol #yeah hi first thing i've written for these two........#it's a sap fest #i apologize #my fic

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jj-bxby · 4 years ago

Text

take a chance ~ jj maybank imagine

prompt request ~ angst ~ 1) you can’t do this, you owe me 2) how much did you drink? 3) i don’t need your pity

summary - you meet the boy of your dreams at a party, but your parents disapprove of your relationship. what happens when a phone call from them sends you into self destruct mode?

word count - 1.9k

trigger warnings ~ swearing, drinking/smoking, verbal ab*se from family member, happy ending

Kooks loved parties. Or, at least you were supposed to.

For whatever reason, the thoughts of the crowded house and cheap booze never was appealing to you, no matter how many times you pushed yourself into the scene. Eventually, you resigned from the parties at frats and packed mansions within Figure Eight, opting instead for the ones thrown on The Cut. The Boneyard made the perfect spot for summer parties, logs acting as benches, fires to keep warm, and no police caring enough to show up to kill the vibe. And of course, that was how you ended up meeting him. The boy with the sea glass-blue eyes, wavy blonde locks, and salty lips. He was the one who had found you resting in the sand with music playing softly from your little speaker as your eyes closed. You were a good distance away from your Kook friends and the rest of the party. He’d tapped your leg with the toe of his sneaker, giggling as you glared at him.

“Not much of a partier, aye?”

You sat up, annoyed. “No, I’m not. I’m not one much for having my quiet time interrupted, either.”

He sank to your level, sitting in the sand with his arm thrown over one knee with a joint in his hand. He twirled it for a few seconds before looking up to see you staring at him, a scowl having settled across your mouth. He laughed to himself as he looked in your eyes. “Well, I’m sorry about that. But do you mind if I lay here for a bit too? I’m I bit too faded to deal with anyone else right now.”

You thought for a second, before nodding slowly. “Alright, you can stay. On one condition, though. You share the weed.” JJ raised his brow at you. “I don’t like the taste of booze and I’m too jittery to calm myself down right now.”

“Alright. Say, your name is Y/N, right?” He asked as you took a drag of the blunt he’d just handed over. You nodded. “I’m JJ.”

You laughed a little bit. “You think I don’t know who you are? Really?”

He grinned, the dimple on one of his cheeks showing. “Ah, I figured. I just thought it would be a better story to tell people when they ask how we got together if I introduced myself first.” You rolled your eyes, taking another puff from the joint before laying back down against the sand. You tilted your head to look at him, watching as he turned up the volume on the speaker before following your actions, his head turned to meet your eyes.

“So I didn’t hear you disagree with me. About getting together eventually?” he smirked.

You sighed at him. “Maybe because I’d be dumb not to take a chance.”

JJ arched his eyebrows and let out a heavy breath, clearly thrown by your candor. “I don’t know that I’d be a good boyfriend to you. At least not the kind of good you’d deserve.”

You shrugged, “Me neither.” You were smiling as you turned your face back to the sky and closed your eyes. Your fingertips eventually finding their way to each other, twining your fingers with JJ’s as you were wrapped in the starlight and music.

After that night, the two of you had hardly been seen apart for the coming months. The relationship had blossomed quickly. Both of you had eventually moved into John B’s house to get away from your families, as your parents were none too happy that you were dating a Pogue. To your family, JJ was nothing but a throwaway delinquent.

“Why couldn’t you have stayed together with Kelce? Or go out with one of Sarah’s friends? Why did you have to pick the addict’s klepto kid?”

After that screaming match, you had shown up at John B’s in tears. He took you in without hesitation; since meeting him you two had formed something of a sibling bond. You had only gone back to your house once to grab your belongings with the Pogues escorting you. JJ never went back to his dad’s house. He always kept clothes in his knapsack, and he practically had an entire closet already set up at the chateau. There was no need to keep in touch with your families when you had each other.

Tonight was another one of the usual Pogue parties, them having taken hours to grab all of the kegs, cups, and matches they’d need for the night. Even though your boyfriend had invited you to come, you decided to stay in for the night. After he promised not to stay too late, you settled in with your Switch and some extra cozy blankets.

After hours of doing side quests and avoiding the Greybeards, you heard your phone ring. Grabbing it, you see the Caller ID. It was the one you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to block yet.

Dad.

Your hands shook as you swiped on the green circle, and you raised the phone to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hi, Y/N.”

You took a deep breath. “Why are you calling me? I thought you didn’t want a daughter who chose a Pogue?”

“I’m calling to tell you that you need to come home. You’re fucking up your entire life for some boy that won’t even care about you once the lust fades. I’m saying this because I love you, Y/N. You’re my daughter, and I want what’s best for you.” You felt a small boil of rage in the pit of your stomach as you listened to his words. His tone was the same one he’d used back when you were living at home. It was the tone of honey-sweet words that dripped with threatening undertones, the one he’d use to get you to do whatever he wanted. What he wanted was to make himself look good to outsiders; Nothing he asked of you was for your happiness.

“You don’t care about what’s right for me, dad, and you never did. If you did, you would accept me being with JJ, but you don’t. You don’t want me to be with him because you’re so goddamned worried about what the other families will think of you. I can’t believe you had the audacity to say you love me.” You felt hot tears slip from your eyes as you spoke and choked back the sobs trying to escape your throat.

“Listen, bitch. You’re lucky you’re eighteen, otherwise, I would have had you dragged back to the house the moment you left. You are the one who wrecked our family. You ruined my life, too, and I wish I would have left as soon as you were born, Y/N. This is all your fault. The locks are being changed tomorrow, got it? So don’t step a foot on my property, because you will be treated as a trespasser and you will be arrested. If you don’t come back tonight, you won’t have anyone who loves you anymore.”

“Fine. Don’t fucking call me again, bastard,” you spat as you hung up. You ran a hand through your hair while you let the sobs shake your body, letting all of your previously trapped emotions out. After a good forty-five minutes of nothing but crying, you had finally worn yourself out and slipped into sleep.

JJ walked into the Chateau as quietly as he could, only to find you asleep on the couch. He grinned as he walked over to where you were lying, moved your Switch and phone so they wouldn’t fall when you got up, and gently woke you. “Hey, baby.”

You groaned as you woke up, looking at the clock that read 3 am. “JJ, I thought you said you weren’t going to stay out late? And why do you smell like a distillery? How fucking much did you drink?” You were angry, and you were standing up now, face to face with your boyfriend. You felt the simmer in your stomach again, left over from earlier.

You’re not gonna have anyone who loves you.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I just lost track of time. I tried to text you to tell you I was going to be late, but it wouldn’t send. And I only had one beer, I’m not even buzzed.” He looked at you with a grimace on his face. “What is going on with you?” He could just see the exhaustion rimming your eyes and the tear stains on your cheeks. “Are you okay, love? You look like you do when you’ve been crying.”

You shook your head, still furious from your conversation earlier. “No, I’m not okay. My dad called tonight to tell me I ruined his life and the family, and that no one will love me, including you,” you said bitterly. JJ reached to grab your hand as he opened his mouth to speak.

You pushed him away. “No. I don’t need your pity, JJ.” You turned on your heel to walk to your bedroom. “I needed you, and you weren’t here. You can’t do this, you fucking owed me that, JJ.” You knew you were being irrational, but you couldn’t help it. You were so hurt that you just wanted to hurt everyone around you.

He caught hold of your arm to turn you around with ease. You crossed your arms and glared daggers at the boy standing in front of you. “Y/N,” JJ sighed, “you’ve gotta meet me halfway here so I can help you. Stop fighting with me when I’m not the one you’re angry with. I know this sucks, and it hurts like hell, but you can’t just push me away. It doesn’t work like that when I’m here to stay. So tell me what’s actually going on.”

JJ watched you as the harsh expression decorating your face softened and tears welled in your eyes. “He said–he said that you would get bored of me. That you would only want me for a little while before the fascination faded,” you croaked. You let him wrap his arms around you, and rested your head against his chest. The hug was so warm and comforting, something you had never received from your family. After a minute of him holding you and murmuring comforting things, he pulled back so he could look you in the eyes.

“Baby, I hope you realize that I’m not going anywhere. I’m with you for the rest of time. And as long as I’m here with you, I’m not going to back down when you try to build those walls, okay? You’re the love of my life that I never thought I would find. It’s not something as little as lust, Y/N,” JJ promised you. “I’d be dumb not to take a chance on you, remember?”

JJ tilted his head to rest your foreheads together. “I’m sorry I was being so horrible to you, J. You’re more than I could have ever asked for, and I love you so incredibly much,” you whispered. JJ pressed a soft kiss to your lips, as he wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“Apology accepted, baby. No more trying to hurt each other just because we’re hurting, though, okay?” You nodded to him, a small smile taking its place on your lips. “Good. Let’s go get some rest now, huh?”

tags and moots ~ @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjmayybank @pink-meringues @midnightmagicmusingsmain @maybanksbaby @kookkyra @aesthetic-lyss @soemthingsparkly @softstarkey @shawnssongs @drewswannabegirl @starlightstarkey @starksweasleymain @joshy-obx @jjmaybnks @obxjj @hmspxgue @uwubonebabie @jiaraendgame @poguestyle17 @topperthornton @obx-direction-sos

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maybebanks · 5 years ago

Text

You Know I’m a Minor Chapter 02

Link to Chapter 01

JJ Maybank x reader

WARNING: Abuse

JJ and his father quickly exit the police station. Before walking through the door, JJ sends me one last look that is incomprehensible.

I soft smile at him, but then Ward puts his arm around your shoulder.

Instantly, you jump back out of his grasp.

“What the hell is wrong with you,” you spit.

Ward just shrugs, “I’ll drive you home,”

“Oh so you get me arrested, and then act like my fucking Dad, and think I’d be okay with that?” you question, still hating this man with every bone in your body.

“Don’t be ridiculous, just let me take you home, sweetie,” Ward says.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” you reply, before quickly running out the door, maybe on your own way home, or maybe to find JJ.

To your surprise, JJ hasn’t left yet. He looks to be sitting in his car, with his father who is in the drivers seat.

You hear muffled yelling from inside the car, “Do you know what you did to me boy?”

You step back, your mind telling you to look away, but your eyes stay glue to the car.

“Y/n!” Ward suddenly yells, you turn your head quickly.

What do you want?

“Y/n, are we clear, on the deal?” Ward asks, capturing your attention.

“What are you talking about? Why wouldn’t we be?” you dismiss him to get a look at JJ again, but Ward is blocking you completely.

“This is the last payment,” Ward says.

“No! No way! I never agreed to that,”

Ward rolls his eyes, “I pay for your bail, and that is the last time I-“

“You made the call and got me arrested you bastard!”

Ward shows constrained anger, he clenches his fists at his sides, veins popping out.

“Whatever. I’ll be in touch.” you tell him, then spin on you heels, running around the corner an back to your house.

—

“Uh hey dad,” you say quietly. It was as if as soon as you arrived at home, your confidence and usual personality faded into submission.

He ways sleeping on the couch, no doubt the result of day drinking.

He grumbles to you, you let out an exasperated sigh, placing a water bottle on his chest.

You expected him to ask where you were, but he didn’t.

“I got a call from the police station,” he grumbles.

Your stomach drops, “Um you..uh you did?”

“Yes, and as seeing that you’re here. You better pay me back for bailing you out,”

“Actually, you didn’t bail me out,”

“Then who did huh? You don’t need anyone else but me! You do what I say!” He charges at you, grabbing your face tightly.

“You’re right, okay your right. You bailed me out-I-“

“Shut up!” He screams, swinging his arm back and colliding his fist against your face, a punch.

“You’re just telling me what I want to hear?! Who bailed you out!?” He seethes, his anger evident in his aggressive tone.

Your lip is shaking as you recover from the blow. Standing up from the ground you face him.

“Ward,” you say timidly.

“Did I raise you to take hand outs?! That rich son-of-a-bitch is just as low as the rest of us! He’s no better of a father than I am!” Your Dad continues yelling.

You feel so small.

Faster than you expected, your father delivers one last kick to your side, causing impact your rib and his rough boot scratching your arm.

“Where is my booze,” he mumbles, then turns away from you as if you were nothing, which is what you felt like.

It feels like a half an hour later, when your father finally silences, probably sleeping in the couch again.

At this, you get up and see yourself in the screen door reflection. You can barely look at yourself, rubbing your fingers through your hair you collect yourself as much as you can and head out the door.

You were off to the drug store, to buy some bandaids to clean the cuts on your arm before the next morning.

When you arrive at the store, it is just about to close. The store owner nearly flipping the sign.

“Wait!” you exclaim, rubbing towards the door, placing your hands on the glass.

“Too late, Betty,” the old man says, he called all the girls Betty.

“Come on! Please Hal? I’m a regular,” you argue.

He looks at you, “get yourself cleaned up, and get some rest, sorry,” and with that he turns away.

“Ugh!” You groan, thrusting your arms.

The cut on your arms reopenes.

“Fuck me,” you mutter, bringing your hand to stop the blood.

“Need some help there, Betty?” A familiar voice suddenly asks.

“No, I’m fine,” you lie, but not looking for any more social interactions today.

JJ walks into the light, illuminated by the dim street light.

“JJ? Hey,” you say softly.

“Why so quiet, afraid someone’s gonna catch-“

“Shh! Just...can we get out of here, I can’t talk here, my house is like 15 feet that way,” you gesture towards the left.

“So you really are a pogue. How have I never noticed you,” he smirks, eyeing you up and down.

You blush, but brush it off as nothing.

JJ walks closer to you, instantly you tense.

“You’re bleeding,” he states, pointing to your arm.

“Yeah, I was trying to get bandanges, but Hal doesn’t like me enough,” you explain.

“What happened?” He asks, bringing his finger near your eye and brushing his thumb on another cut, on your face.

You flinch back, moving his tender gesture away.

“I tripped in the woods,” you answer.

“What woods?”

“Does it really matter? And besides, I should be asking you the same question,” you reflect, reaching up to touch his newly forming black eye, he quickly grabs your wrist.

You gasp softly.

“It’s none of your business. And nothing I can’t handle,” JJ shrugs, loosening his grip, it wasn’t harsh, just a shock coming from him.

“Okay, tough guy,” you say sarcastically.

JJ chuckles, “you wanna come home with me, I can clean you up,”

“That was foreword,”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” JJ assures.

You try and read his eyes, he was sweet, “Yeah, actually, that sounds nice,”

After a few minutes of walking, and talking a worry comes up.

You stop walking, so JJ looks at you, “at the station, your dad was pretty pissed. Are you sure he would be cool with me coming over?” you ask, trying to hide the nerves in your voice.

“Oh we’re not going to my place,” JJ replies nonchalantly.

“What? Maybe I should just get a bandage somewhere else..” you say uneasily.

“Relax, I’m staying at John B’s tonight. He doesn’t care if I bring girls over, you can meet all my friends. I’m sure they’ll like you,”

“To be honest I don’t really want to see people, I look like a mess,”

“Okay, well then I can tell them to give us some time. That cut still bleeding?” He asks.

“Not really,” you answer.

—

When you arrive at John B’s place, JJ leads you inside and helps you hop up on the counter. You whimper in pain when JJ pushes against your rib, but you try and make sure he doesn’t notice.

“Thank you,” you say as he bandages up your wounds, “you’re pretty good at this,”

“Yeah, well I get in a lot of fights. Mostly with kooks, as you probably know,” JJ responds.

“Hm, good. What id give to punch a kook,”

JJ laughs, “dang girl,”

“After all this, I think you should tell me about you’re whole blackmailing situation, I’d really like to swoop in on that,” JJ suggests.

“I don’t know..plus my guy thinks I’m done. I might tell you if you let me spend the night?”

“What was that with Ward Cameron picking you up at the station, is he your second dad or something?”

“No, he’s a fake. He’s the guy I’m blackmailing,” you admit, JJ had you at a vulnerable state, and you thought he deserved to know.

After explaining the whole situation to him JJ and you have become closer in one night than you’ve ever felt to anyone.

“Any more wounds I should know about?” JJ asks, holding his arms out to help you down.

“No, doctor,” You answer.

He scoffs with a smile.

Then JJ leads you to the room he’s staying in.

“Do you mind? If we sleep in the same bed?” JJ asks.

“No. I don’t know if I’ll be able to fall asleep though. I just feel...”

“Tense?” JJ finishes your sentence, he walks over in the room and picks up a small green backpack, then pulls out a white stick.

“Maybe this can help?” He moves a blunt between his fingers, then tosses you a lighter.

“You son of a bitch,” you smile, happy to get high if it meant undoing how weird you were feeling.

You sat on the bed and placed the blunt between your lips.

JJ moves closer to you and holds out his lighter, lighting you.

You breathe in, the rest of the night passing the blunt back and forth with JJ Maybank.

for you! : @milked-down-coffee @obsessedweirdo @voidsxnsets @maebanks

Chapter 03

#jj maybank #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #obx netflix #jj imagine jjxreader obx #obx jj maybank x you #outer banks #outerbanks #obx jj #jj outer banks #y/n outerbanks #outerbanks fanfic #outerbanks angst #abuse jj obx

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leverage-ot3 · 4 years ago

Text

notable moments from The Ice Man Job

leverage 2.08

Hardison: Jim Kerrity III. He took over Kerrity Diamonds four years ago after his old man retired, and in that small amount of time, he drove the business straight into the ground by living way beyond his means.

(Parker is restless on the couch and Eliot pushes her away from him)

Hardison: I'm talkin' drugs, booze, women.

(Parker continues to moves restlessly)

Hardison: According to his credit card statements... What? Why? What are you doin'?

Parker: What?

Eliot: What?

Parker: What?

Eliot: It's distracting.

Parker: The couch is feeling a little empty.

Nate: Eliot, will you please sit next to Parker.

Eliot: No, I'm sittin' here now.

Nate: Guys, guys. We all miss Sophie. I, we just have to adapt.

Hardison: I got this. Move, go.

(Hardison sits next to Parker on the couch)

Hardison: You happy? (picks up keyboard)

parker can’t get comfortable because she misses sophie. she’s never had friends/close family before (minus archie but that’s irrelevant) and sophie was one of her people and she doesn’t know how to cope properly when she loses them

the ot3 sitting together as they should

- - - - -

Nate: You know what, the thing about this that people don't understand is insurance fraud, it's a lot of red tape, and with a big claim like this, it'll take a year before Kerrity sees any money, and the bill collectors are not gonna wait around. He's gotta fence the diamonds.

Parker: He can't. (grabs the remote and changes the monitors)

Eliot: What do you mean?

Parker: His diamonds are GIA certified, VVS clarity, all about two carats.

Hardison: That's my clicker.

Parker: Who stole the Polar Star? (raises her hand) Who stole the Gem of Gibraltar? Damiani raid? Me. I know diamonds, and our bad guy can't fence those diamonds because stones that size have an ID number laser-inscribed on them.

Eliot: So it’s like a stolen car. Gotta clean the VIN before you can sell 'em.

Nate: How do you get that ID number off?

Parker: With a special laser. But only three guys can do it. Antwerp, Dubai, Tel Aviv

SHE KNOWS HER DIAMONDS

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Parker: Hi.

Man: Hello.

Parker: Buy me a drink?

Man: You got it. (gestures to the bartender and puts his hand on Parker’s knee) So?

(Parker grabs his fingers and breaks them, then picks up a briefcase and hits him in the chest before heading away, almost falling)

we LOVE to see parker not tolerating slimy men and hurting them when they touch her

- - - - -

Parker: Yeah, I'll be fine.

(later Parker is crouched behind the counter talking on the phone)

Parker: I will not be fine. I stabbed that guy with a fork.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Parker, Parker, relax. It's fine. Listen. Go to Nate's cupboard and you're gonna find a sexy little mini-dress and my emergency Jimmy Choos.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Jimmy who? You have a body in Nate's closet? (she looks excited)

[London Bar]

Sophie: Shoes, Parker. Didn't I teach you any...? All right, listen. This is the important bit. Do you still have the Rosalind Diamond you stole in Perth?

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: Yes.

[London Bar]

Sophie: Wear it. The diamond will speak for you. You won't have to say a word. This is the key to the grift. You just trust the character. Say nothing, trust the diamond.

[Leverage HQ]

Parker: I can do that. Don't tell Nate I called.

[London Bar]

Sophie: I won't.

- - - - -

bruh parker is SO HOT in that blue dress with her diamond that she stole I’m-

- - - - -

Hardison: All right. Lay the arms down, brother. He's cool.

(Eliot lets Kerrity go)

Hardison: You have to excuse my bodyguard. He's touchy. It's 'cause he's a mute.

eliot looks ready to beat hardison’s ass for a hot second

also I LOVE eliot’s little braids in his hair

- - - - -

Kerrity: What kind of thief calls himself a thief?

Hardison: An uncatchable one with a brilliant reputation. You've seen my work in Perth. The Polar Star? Nicked it. The Gem of Gibraltar? Nicked it. The Damiani raid? Distraction while I nicked everything in the vault next door. Big stones, trust me.

(behind Hardison, Parker is pacing angrily)

eliot gives her a Look™ when she looks like she’s going to interrupt hardison because he KNOWS how pissed she is

- - - - -

(Parker is at the kitchen bar, locks and picks spread out in front of her. She’s focused on picking a lock)

Eliot: Ice Man?

Hardison: Hey, I put a lot of work into that character. No, no. No, I bought new clothes, ugly as hell, too.

Eliot: This always happens when you go on the grift, Hardison.

Hardison (*): I put stories on the website.

Eliot: You go too big.

Parker: Sophie told me to say as little as possible, let the character do the work.

Nate: When did, uh, Sophie say that?

Parker: A long time ago. Maybe last Christmas. I don't even think it was Sophie.

Nate: I'm gonna go put more pressure on Kerrity. I want you guys to be on the clear-out. Ice Man, play it cool. That's just an awful, awful name.

Hardison: Genius.

Eliot: See?

Hardison: It's genius.

Eliot: When you get in too deep on this, I ain't bailin' your ass out.

Hardison: I don't need you to bail me out. I'm the Ice Man.

Eliot: Not. Gonna. Help

parker picks locks when she’s upset/annoyed/distressed and I love that continuity for her in the show

also eliot you buffoon you’ll always help hardison you’re fooling literally no one

- - - - -

Guard: There's a Mr. Sterling here from the insurance company.

LMFAO NATE YOU DIDNT

- - - - -

Eliot (on phone): I know. He's driving me crazy. How, huh? I'm backup, they can't rely on me. All right, all right. Hey, thanks. Don't tell Nate I called.

Parker: Who was that?

Eliot: Cable company

eliot is more upset than anything because he’s been put into a position where he can’t protect them as well. THATS what he’s mad enough about to call sophie about it.

also this picture meme describes the situation perfectly

- - - - -

Eliot: Whoa! Whoa! What are you people doin' here?!

Woman: We work here. Who are you?

Parker: We're with OSHA.

Eliot: We issued a class-one evacuation notice for this facility effective 24 hours ago.

Parker: This place is on lockdown for chemical exposure.

Eliot: Nobody read the memo?

Parker: Did nobody read the memo?! You, cough!

(Parker holds a pad to the woman’s mouth and she coughs into it)

Woman: What chemical?

Eliot: Given the set-up for this place, it could be a matrix of solid phase sulfates, uh, nitrates.

(Parker shows a blackened pad to the woman)

Woman: That's inside me?

Eliot: Honey, your lungs are a parking lot, sweetheart.

Parker: And in that parking lot, the diagonal lines are painted with poison.

(parker turns and looks at eliot, who shakes his head slightly in exasperation)

Eliot: People, move towards the door, all right?

Parker: Do not inhale unless you are 50 feet from the entrance. Yeah.

(all the workers leave the room)

eliot just sighing at parker’s antics is beautiful

- - - - -

Nate: All right, nice work, guys. Tomorrow, when he shows up with the diamonds, the state police will be there.

[Exterior Street]

Eliot: Why, so they can arrest Hardison's ego?

Hardison: Be cool, baby. Ice cool. Hey, who wants to go for a spin?

Eliot: Can't believe you rented a Ferrari.

Hardison: Rented?

Parker: I'll get a ride home with Eliot.

(Eliot and Parker move away and get into his truck before driving away)

Hardison: Y'all are just jealous. Oh, they just jealous, baby. Don't worry about that. Look at ya. Lookin' better than green-

okay so now we know hardison in canon owns a red ferrari convertible

- - - - -

Hardison (makes call): Yeah, yeah. Sheila, not makin' it in tonight. Yeah, work thing. Bugger all.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Hardison? Are you calling me in character?

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: I told you, butternut. It's work. I can't get out of it.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: What accent is that? Ooh. Ooh, you've been nabbed.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: Afraid so.

Sophie: Is it the mark?

Hardison: No. No, muffin, no.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: It's the goons. You oversold the part.

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: You fell into the trap of the overzealous henchman.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: Don't worry. It happens all the time. As long as they're not Russians.

[Russian’s Office]

Hardison: It's gonna be a bit of a problem.

Sophie: It's the Russians? I'm gonna have to phone Nate.

Hardison: Uh, leave it off, crumpet.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: No, no, no, listen. Hardison—

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --you cannot talk your way out of Russians.

[Interior Van]

Sophie: I mean, you can stall them maybe for a bit, but whatever you do--

[Russian’s Office]

Sophie: --do not tell them you can do anything else. (hangs up)

Hardison: Smooches. Love her. (puts down phone)

- - - - -

Eliot: I had courtside seats, man. Tell Hardison if he makes it out alive, I'm gonna snap him in half.

Nate: Uh, Eliot says hi.

again, eliot, you ain’t foolin no one

- - - - -

parker sitting on the dining table,,, I love it when she perches herself on things

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a checkered/white plaid shirt with flowers on it it’s adorable

- - - - -

(Kerrity is placing a necklace on a woman’s neck)

Kerrity: Wow, that looks beautiful. Three hundred thousand dollars on your neck. (Nate knocks on the door) Oh. Amy, I'm gonna meet you at the bar, sweetie, OK? You'll earn that later. Let's go. Excellent. This had better be important.

y’all nasty

- - - - -

we love to see eliot knocking people out with one punch

+ him apologizing to the unconscious guard after

- - - - -

(Parker lays a magnetic strip over the two halves of the sensor)

Parker: This will hold them together.

Eliot (hands her a screwdriver): Electric's faster.

Parker: Vibrations will set off the seismic sensor.

(Eliot leaves the vault as Parker moves the sensors to one side and replaces them with false sensors. She then works on getting the combination)

- - - - -

Eliot buzzes Hardison in. Hardison fakes punching Eliot, who goes down. Hardison continues to fake beating Eliot up)

Eliot: Next time, I'm playing the thief.

Hardison: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Eliot: I'd like to hear you do an accent.

Hardison: I went to Second City in Chicago.

(outside the Russian and his men watch Hardison beating Eliot)

[Vault]

(Parker writes the combination to the vault on the handle in what looks like invisible ink)

Eliot: When’d you find time between that and karate at the Y?

Hardison: You know what? Just shut up.

Parker: Shut up, guys

chaotic ot3

- - - - -

(Parker hangs on to the vault door as it swings shut, then jumps to an overhead pipe)

[Kerrity Diamonds]

(Eliot watches Parker move across the vault in a security monitor)

Eliot: Stuck it

this is cute okay, his proud lil face

- - - - -

hardison also carries a black light on his keychain ???

- - - - -

I’m sorry, I’m but a simple wlw and parker hanging upside down doing her thing is beautiful

- - - - -

[Flashback]

Hardison: Shh! Do you hear that? Diamond Jim's comin' down here. You go and stop him while I nick the diamonds.

(the Russian and his men turn to the vault doorway. Hardison backs away. Parker steps out of one of the larger boxes and pulls Hardison into it)

Hardison: Thank you, and I mean thank you, but how are we gettin' out of here?

(Parker pulls out some sort of electronic device)

Hardison: What is that?

Parker: Shh! Pull your arms in.

(the device beeps as Parker enters a code. After a moment, an explosion collapses the floor beneath them and they fall into the tunnels below where Eliot helps Parker to her feet)

Eliot: Det cord.

eliot helping them off the ground? domestic ot3

- - - - -

Eliot: What are you smilin' at? You still screwed it up.

Hardison: I'm smiling 'cause you said if I got in trouble, you wouldn't help me.

Eliot: Parker made me.

Parker: No, I didn't.

Hardison: Come on, man. Let's hug it out.

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out, Ice Man.

Hardison: Just hug it... Just a little man love.

(Hardison puts his arm around Eliot’s shoulders. Eliot tries to push him away)

Eliot: I'm not huggin' it out with you. No...

Hardison (stands to move closer to Eliot): It’s not—

Eliot: Sit down in your stool.

Hardison: Don't make this awkward.

Eliot: What are you doin', man?

Hardison: This is uncomfortable now.

(Hardison lays his head on Eliot’s shoulder as Eliot continues to try and push him away)

Hardison: Get in the pits.

Eliot: I'm gonna break your frickin’ arm.

parker shuts eliot down immediately because eliot needs to step up for his actions

ALSO, ELIOT LEANED HIS FOREHEAD IN FOR ONE (1) SECOND. HE TOTALLY SECRETLY LOVED IT

also this meme sums up the entire episode

* sorry the script said something wrong and I don’t feel like going back to check lol

#leverage #leverage 2.08 #leverage 2x08 #the ice man job #leverage season 2 #season 2 #notable moments #mine

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