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a2a2a2-1 · 18 days

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Back in Town

Disclaimer: This is my first story so please forgive any typos and Errors. This is a fiction.

Dave’s side: It was nearing the end of summer. My wife was driving back home from visiting her parents out of state. It had been 3 long weeks, and I was so excited for her to get back. This was really started to test my will power. We were both very sexually driven, and this was the longest either of us had resisted since we were together. We talked when we could over the phone and agreed that we could play and tease all we wanted but would save the best until she was back. My ball ached for release, but I know that would be soon enough. The night before she was due back, she had spent most of the night teasing me with naught pic she had takin as well as sending a few Tumblr account she was using for inspiration. It always fascinated me how she fantasied about other woman before we meet, but was too shy to do anything about it. It was now the morning and I had fallen asleep as she were chatting. I checked my phone and saw a few more pics she had sent. The morning wood was ready before I even opened the links and was dripping within moments later. Along with the snaps of her teasing me with her panties that were soaked thought and her wet finger as she sucked off her juices, there was also another Tumblr page she had sent. This had quite a collection, the most recent were lovely selfies of gorgeous ladies that were clearly not meant to be shared. I was annoyed that several had been taken down and could not help but wanted what I had missed. It was all I can do to keep from exploding as some of the must have just turned legal. I send her a few inspiration pics back and got out of bed to get the day started. It was a hot summer day as I drove to the job project. Traffic was stop and go and I could not help but let my mind wonder about the last post she had sent, were they all 18? It was then I saw the HS girls cross country team jogging next to my car. Before I knew it, my hand was adjusting for more space. They are all in their tight spandex shorts and sports bras. That tan skin glistened in the morning sunlight. I was lost in the view as the jogged. Traffic was crawling due to the reduced lanes ahead. They would get a few cars ahead then I would pass them, then they would catchup and pass me, and so on. As we approached a redlight I watched as they stopped and stretched. So much beauty but so off limits. My dick throbbed for more space in my jeans. I was pulled from my trance as the car behind me honked got get my attention as the car in front had turned right. I pulled up next to the girls while they were still waiting and watched one of them adjust her shorts in front. The light accentuated her camel toe as she pulled them up tight. My dick throbbed on more time. The leaders of the group clearly growing impatient by the long light then turned and looked at me. I smiled and gave them the nod to cross over if they wanted. They all waved while crossing, and I felt my heart raced; So many beautiful young ladies right in front of me. As the last of them passed I remembered my dashcam and I checked to make sure it was running. Once I got to the work parking lot, I downloaded the Video and sent a few still images of the girls waving to my wife with the caption, “you better hurry back.” It did now take long for a reply, but I had to wait for my lunch break for a save Time to open it. It was a picture of her panties on the floor of the driver’s seat, clearly this got her going.

Megan’s side: It had been 3 long weeks since I had let my self orgasm. This edging game was making me lose my mind. I as finding myself looking at all kinds of sites I had never expected. Tumber was fascinating world that I kept returning to. I love Dave and would do anything for him, but my lord it would have been fun to explore with a girl before I meet him. I was looking forward to getting home and know this would help keep me out of trouble. My desires had drifted, and I longed for the release. I would be heading home in the morning and had one last night of edging. I was teasing Dave as he enjoys, and was getting lost in the rabbit holes on Tumblr. I found a page with many stunning teens. I knew they looked a little younger that was I would have normally sent but fuck did they have me going. The thin figure and perk tit, and fit abs was almost too much. I know I could never send this page to Dave. When I woke up the next morning. I was in shock, as I realized I had sent that page after all, and he had sent back a close up of his wet head with stream of precum running down the shaft. I was wet already. I checked and saw that most of the pic had been pulled by now and felt a wave of relief come over me. I clean up, showered, said my goodbyes and got on the road. As I got on the Highway I heard my phone ding. As I looked at the text, I left waves of lust and jealousy flood over me. Fuck these girls were hot!! Young, sure but still hot as hell. Before I know it by hand was under my skirt playing. My mind raced thinking about a little slut stealing him away from me. The mix of emotions was intoxicating. I was drawn back to reality as the pump light came and I tried to refocus on driving. There was something about that picture… What was it? I pulled into the station and realised how wet my panties were I pulled them off and send one last tease to Dave. My Mind was still stuck on those runners…

Ali It had been crazy last several months. Moving back to live with my grandparents was not how I wanted to start 8th grade. It sure is weird being back in the town after 4 years away. It nice to get back to running with a group. It was a hot summer morning as normal, and I was with the girls this time. They were so fast and more developed but today was just an easy 6-mile jog, so I could keep up with the pack for a change. I would normally just hang back with a few friends I had reconnected with. They were just starting High School and they invited me to train with their team as mine didn’t start till after school started in a few weeks. We took a different path than normal, and I was lost in thought. My mind wondered about some many things be kept circling back to wondering if the boys had matured at all. We had stopped while waiting for a light to turn green. I looked at one of the cars that had also stopped and knew it looked familiar but could not quite place it. The older girls smiled and waved at the driver as they passed in front. I looked and waved as I passed. He had quite a smirk on his face. I’m sure he’s enjoying the view. I was shocked when my mind started to wonder more about him. I know I shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of thoughts but since moving back I was thinking about boys more and more. Some of the older girls talk about already having already done things with their boyfriends. I envied them. I wish I wasn’t so shy. I needed someone I trust to talk to. I tried to think about something else. But as we ran my mind shifted back to that car and the driver. Did I know him? I remember that car, but from where?

Dave: Work was slow and it was all I could do to keep my mind distracted. I caught myself daydreaming then realizing I was starting to get hard as I thought about Megan running with the girls. I stopped myself and refocused. I got a text message from Megan that she was on track and would be home around 4:45. My mind races with how best to celebrate her return. And I was out the door right at 5:00 as shift ended. Megan: The drive home was flying by as traffic was light for weekday. That, combination with my mind elsewhere, and before I knew it, I was actually a ahead of schedule. I texted Dave that I would still be on track, so I had time to shower and surprise him before he got home. Once home I got in the shower and gave everything a fresh shave as I knew Dave was not a fan of this bush. I got out of the shower and heard doorbelling. Was Dave home early… it was only 415? That little devil. I put on a towel and ran to the door. Ali: It wasn’t till I was home and was in the shower that I remembered. I must have been my old nanny Megan’s car… and was there her boyfriend? Or well maybe even husband? Oh wow. It took me a second to realize where my hand was thinking about them. I flashed back to Megan talking about him… that seemed so long yet it was all so vivid. I found myself thinking back to Megan’s body as well. She was so beautiful, toned body. My hand moved up to by little tits, they were just starting fill. Not as big as Megans just yet, but it was fun to watch them giggle a little as I bounded. The water was starting to get cold, so I dried off and got dressed. I went back to my room and looked to see if could find a number for her. I didn’t find anything but thought their house was just a few blocks away. I checked with Granny who confirmed and said I could ride my bike over after dinner if I got my chores done. Lucky for me they eat supper early, so I was ready to head over by 4:00. Why was I so excited and nerves? It was about a 15min ride through the subdivision, and I walked up and rang the bell. I was shocked when Megan answered the door it a towel. Her blond hair still wet and Dripping. The towel was half hooked tucked over her boobs and barley covered the rest of her. I was frozen. She looked stunning. The next thing I knew I was in the air. My face was pressing agents her breasts and my arms were rapped around. I didn’t want this to end…

Wow this story is taking on a tease of its own… guess we should pause it here and make this a multi part story. Sorry for the long build-up but I’m working on part 2 and will have it out shortly. Stay tuned…

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egipci · 10 months

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Miles Ahead

(for @wincestwednesdays)

What I was trying to tell you — we were in the car heading out of Gary, going a hundred miles an hour, a hundred twenty. It was Memorial Day. We drove with the windows down and you had one hand on the wheel and you were talking about fucking hoosiers and goddamn fourth of July rehearsal because you could hear fireworks if you listened close enough, and you started talking crazy about Mexico, about going down there for fourth of July. You said, we should go down there for fourth of July. You said, we should go down to Tijuana. You called it TJ. I laughed at you. I said, did you just call it TJ? No one calls it TJ. You said, everyone calls it TJ. I said, who’s everyone? You don’t know anyone who’s been to Mexico. Name everyone. You said, Dad, Dad’s been to Mexico, he calls it TJ. You were talking like you do and waving your hand but you had one eye always on the road, trying so hard to keep up with him. You kept switching lanes and gunning it whenever he went out of sight so we wouldn’t lose him. He was driving so fast like always and you were scared of losing him. You said, yeah man we’ll go down to TJ. I said, you wanna go down to Mexico for America’s birthday. You said, sure thing, gonna put on my little speedo and have a pina colada, you know with a little umbrella. I said, oh man, you at the beach. I’d like to see that. You said, what happens in TJ, kid. I said, we don’t have passports. You said, we don’t need passports, we just drive right across, no one cares. I said, they care down there I’m pretty sure. You said, it’s all Americans down there. I said, whatever you say, we go that far south you’ll catch on fire. You said, I swear to god I’ll turn the car around right now, let’s go right now. I rolled my eyes at you. You shoved me and you said, fuck you don’t roll your eyes at me. Besides we can get passports. I said, you mean make them at Kinko's. You said, damn right we’ll make them at Kinko's. Then you pulled up to the shoulder because Dad had slowed down and we got out of the car and you two did your low and serious talking. He said we’re splitting up. You hung your head down. He touched your neck then he touched your cheek. You watched him turn around and walk away and get in the car and drive. You saw me looking and you cuffed me across the back of the head just to make something happen. I said, how does Mexico sound now? And you said, nah it’s just Memorial Day and you walked back to the car and stopped and looked down at your keys in your hand like it was the first time you ever saw them. Then you threw them at me. You smiled when I caught them. You said, I’m tired, your turn. You let me drive. I had no license, but you let me drive and we promised not to tell Dad. We didn’t even say it out loud, no words, we just both agreed. When we got in the car you leaned back and you crossed your arms over your chest and closed your eyes and pretended to fall asleep so I would know you trusted me. I knew you were watching me. I could feel you smiling. Thank god it was dark. I said, TJ, last call. You laughed. I didn’t know where we were going. I just drove. I was so scared because you were watching me and it was your car and if I fucked up I could end us or best case scenario I’d wreck it and I wouldn’t know how to fix it. I kept both hands on the wheel and my eyes on the road and all the miles ahead. You were pretending to sleep and every once in a while a car would pass by and the headlights would fill up the inside of the car like midday and then I would look at you out the corner of my eye. All the way I thought about Mexico and you there sunburnt. I was so scared then I couldn’t speak but what I wanted to say is I’ll take you anywhere.

#hello yes this is indeed a repost for the simple reason that I don’t like the other version of this that’s getting reblogged [shrugs]#and which is now invisible and unrebloggable #if she comes on your dash ignore her #Anyway 1) title is from the Miles Davis album #2) sorry for the j/d #and 3) happy #wincest wednesday #and many more to those who celebrate etc etc #my fic

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dragon-kazansky · 3 years

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Dangerous | Helmut Zemo

AU! Race car driver Zemo 😎

Gender neutral reader

Collage by @realremyd

[Masterlist]

[Next chapter]

Part 1

All around you were racing drivers and their cars. People were gathering around them, taking pictures, chatting. You were just walking through the lane, looking at the cars more than the drivers.

You didn't know cars all that well, but you certainly enjoyed looking at them. Race cars always looked cool.

It was a friend of yours that brought you here today, but as soon as she spotted the driver she had come to see, she was off. You decided to take a walk.

Up ahead there was quite a crowd. They were gathered around a car that stood out amongst the other. It was a dark purple colour. Very nice, very sleek. You stopped beside the crowd the admire it.

Then the crowd began to get quite noisy.

You turned to see what all the fuss was about. A man was approaching the car. Dark hair, brown eyes, his racing suit matching the car in front of you. Clearly the driver.

He smiled at the crowd.

You didn't know who this was. You didn't really know racing, but he was obviously a big deal. Everyone was calling for him.

"Zemo! Zemo!"

Zemo? You took your phone out and looked him up. This guy was a big deal. You scrolled a little, seeing posts about him, photos being uploaded from the day.

They call his name again and you look over. He's having his photo taken with people.

You hear your name from behind you. Turning sharply, you look around to see your friend waving at you. You glance once more at Zemo before joining your friend. She doesn't seem to take much notice of the loud crowd behind you.

"I wondered where you went."

"I was looking around. Have fun?" You ask, knowing she had definitely spoken to her favourite racer.

"Tony Stark is amazing! He's won before. Twice."

"What about him?" You turn to look back at Zemo. He was getting into his car now.

"That's Helmut Zemo, this is his first big race. Apparently he was really promising in the lower ranking races, but I haven't seen him against any of these guys." She looks around at the other racers. They were getting into their cars.

"I guess we better go before the race starts."

She guides you back the way you came and you follow the crowds to the stands. You both get a really good spot. You would have a great view of the finish line.

You have to wait a short bit before all the cars take their places. Your eyes focus on the purple vehicle below. You were curious. Ahead of him was Stark's car and another car you didn't know the owner of.

Your friend leaned in.

"Stark starts in the number one position. That's exciting, isn't it?" She says, making a slight fuss.

"Yeah," you reply, but not really paying attention.

The crowds go quiet. You watch eagerly. Then, the coolest sound roars loudly. The engines revving. It's loud and noisy, but suddenly you're filled with so much excitement.

The crowds were cheering again, and before you knew it, the cars were off. You were leaning forward as if that would give you a better view. The cars were out of sight very quickly and your eyed were drawn to the monitors, the cameras picking up the race.

The main focus was on Stark. He was putting so much distance between himself and the others already. The car right behind him belonged to a Stephen Strange, but he was struggling to shake the purple car off his tail.

Zemo. Round the next bend he gained his advantage, overtaking Strange who was worried they would collide if one of them didn't slow down just a tad.

Zemo was left to close the distance between him and Stark on his own now.

Your friend cheered loudly, calling Stark's name as if he would be able to hear her all the way down there.

Zemo was right behind him now.

One more bend until the finish line. Your eyes watched the corner, waiting for those cars to come racing round it. You nibbled at your bottom lip, anxious to see those cars again.

First around the corner is Stark, but Zemo is right there, just a nose behind him. You watch as they race down the last length, both cars over the finish line so very quickly. The other competitors still somewhere in the dust these two left behind.

A whole wave of people move to make their way down to the barricades. You look up at the monitor, waiting for the final result. They were so close at the end.

Stark's name flashes up on the screen.

You know your friend will be over the moon, but as you turn to see where the purple car had pulled up, you couldn't help feeling disappointed.

Zemo climbs out of his car and removes the helmet. He wipes at his brow and turns to look over at Stark, his car now surrounded by people.

He was so close.

You leave the stand and make your way down. You walk straight last the crowds and head over to where Zemo's car sat. No one seemed to be paying much attention as you looked at it.

The drivers were called for their rewards of today's race. You watched as they left, not missing the way Zemo had glanced back at his car, and therefore you, before he left.

You reunited with your friend when the drivers were awarded. The moment it was over, she dragged you away. It was all over now. The drivers would go celebrate, the cars would be taken care of, and that was it.

Still, you found you might have a new interest in racing cars.

As you were leaving with your friend, she suddenly came to a halt and turned around. Stark was leaving the track in his own car, stopping to wave at the crowd of adoring fans. Unable to resist, your friend left your side to go over and see him.

You sighed as you watched her squeal when Tony turned to talk to her. He was flirting with his fans.

A convertible came out next. Your eyes trailed over to see who that was. Your heart skipped a beat at Zemo in the drivers seat. He had pulled up to glare over at Stark.

Your friend rushed to your side.

"Stark is inviting us all to go celebrate with him. We should go."

You glance at the crowd behind her.

"You go, I just want to go home."

She looks a little defeated, and torn, but after you insist she goes to enjoy herself, she leaves your side to spend the night on Stark's company.

You walk away.

Zemo had noticed you. He saw the girl run over to you, say something, and then walk back. You were left on your own. Normally he wouldn't bother paying attention to such things, but he recognized you. You were standing by his car earlier.

And you were walking away from Stark.

Zemo ignores what's happening in his left and drives forward. He cruises up along side you, stopping when you turn to see.

"Need a ride?"

You look startled. You look around you quickly. He couldn't possibly be talking to you.

"Me?"

"There is no one else here," he chuckles.

You look at the car. It looks expensive. You glance back at your friend, who was still fawning over Tony Stark. Looking back at Zemo, you see him smiling softly at you.

"Alright."

You climb in, not entirely sure what you were doing. Yet, you were drawn to this man in front of you. Your sanity had gone out the window ages ago.

Once you were strapped in, he drove off.

"Where to?"

"Oh, uh," you pull out your phone and tell him the name of the hotel you were staying at. Zemo knows exactly where to go.

Silence falls between you as you look out at the scenery. It feels strange sitting next to a man who you only found out about today, and yet were so drawn to. You had never been to a race before today, so why were so drawn to him?

"I saw you earlier, after the race."

You turn to look at him, but his eyes were on the road, as they should be.

"You did?"

"You were looking at my car. You do realise I didn't win today, yes?" He glances at you.

"And that means I can't come look at your car?"

The way he laughs a little makes you feel a little shy. He could probably tell you had never been to a race before.

"Well, no. You can go wherever you like once the race is over. It's just more of a usual habit for for people to go congratulate the winner."

"I guess Stark just didn't interest me at the time."

He glances at you again, trying to figure you out. You were a curious person, to him at least.

"Your first race?" He asks, smiling to himself.

"That obvious, huh."

"A little. Did you enjoy it?"

"Yes." You look at him. "I was on the edge of my seat. I've never really given racing a thought before, but the sounds of the engines, the way you all disappeared around the track, that ending. I never realised how much I would probably enjoy something like that."

He chuckles. "Was it enough to make you want to go again?"

"Yes, I think so."

"The next race in two weeks. Can I interest you?" He looks at you.

"Yes," you say, rather quietly. You only know he heard you by his smile.

"Good."

The smile remains on his face as he drives down the straight road. Wind whips through your hair as you admire his side profile. You watch the way he taps his fingers against the steering wheel, how one hand rests on the gear stick.

He's a professional driver. For whatever reason, to you that was thrilling.

As if he could feel your eyes on him, he turned to you. His lips curled into a grin. You narrowed your gaze at him, but you soon realised what was going through his head.

The car sped up.

The way he handled the vehicle changed instantly. He was showing off now. Showing you what he could do. His eyes returned to the road.

"Tell me to stop and I will."

You didn't.

Faster. He went faster. With one hand you clutched the seat below you, the other placed on the dashboard.

He laughed.

You did too.

He sped up a bit more, going as fast as was willingly wanting to go on a public road. There were very cars about, and he weaved through them like it was nothing.

You laughed louder.

The wind in your hair, the scenery blurring past you, the cars honking their horns at your ridiculousness. Adrenaline flooded through you.

This is how it felt in his world. He was giving you a taste.

The smile on your face, the laughter tumbling from your lips, the pure excitement on your face. It was all satisfying for him. You were a perfect stranger who had just appeared in his life, and as he looked at you beside him, he wondered if it was at all possible to hold onto this.

If you cane to the next race, maybe he would know.

Zemo only slowed down the car when he approached the town. Pure joy was still etched onto your face as he made his way to your hotel.

He pulled up outside.

You turned to him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

You hesitated to climb out. That was the most thrilling ride of your life and you didn't want it to be over.

The way was looking at you suggested he may feel the same, but he didn't say anything.

"Can I expect you to be there in two weeks time?"

"I expect so."

"I'll have a ticket sent your way. I expect to see you at my car on the day."

"You'll be waiting for me?" You ask, surprised by his foward words.

"Yes."

"You don't even know my name," you chuckle.

"Then tell me."

You smile and give him your name. He smiles in response and tests it out on his tongue. The way he says it with his accent sent shivers down your spine.

At last the spell is broken and you get out of the car. Even after closing the door, you stand there and look at him.

"It was nice meeting you, Zemo."

"The honour is mine."

You step back away from the car and watch as he pulls away, driving off. You wait until he's gone before heading inside the hotel.

You're already in bed when your friend returns to the room. She stumbles in, giggling. Clearly, she had been having a good time.

You go back to sleep. You'll deal with her in the morning.

You had to wake her up for breakfast. She complained the entire time, mostly about her headache, but she got ready and joined you in the food hall.

She spent the entire meal telling you about last night. Stark had taken all those fans out to celebrate at some super popular club he was a regular at. He bought everyone drinks, danced with them, and supposedly flirted with her.

Not once had she asked what you had got up to. It was then you decided you wouldn't tell her. Your meeting with Zemo would be your little secret, at least, you had intended it to be.

A member of staff approached your table, an envelope in hand. She handed it to you, saying a gentleman had left this for you.

It was here your friend perked up.

"What's that?"

"A ticket," you said, pulling it out. A little note was inside too. The handwriting was spectacularly neat. You smiled at the way your name was scribbled on the top.

"For the races? You're going again?"

"Uh, yeah. Yesterday was fun, I thought it would interesting to go again."

Your friend watched as you read the note, smiling as you did so. She wasn't dumb, she knew something had happened. Originally she wasn't going to ask because she assumed you immediately returned to the hotel. On your own. She had no idea.

Darling Y/N,

Here is your ticket for the next race. Inside you will also find a pass. It will allow you more access around the track. I will be waiting for you.

Helmut Zemo

"Who is that from?"

You bite your lip, peering at her through your lashes. A blush dusted your cheeks as you glanced back down at his name on the note.

"A friend."

She didn't look she totally believed you, but she didn't push it. She just smiled at you with a knowing look.

You tuck the note, ticket, and pass back into the envelope and keep it safe.

You would do whatever you needed to be at those races in two weeks time. You wanted to see Zemo again.

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn @lostghostgirl94 @friday18eo @yaskna @my-blood-is-maple-syrup @gingerwriter97 @lunamooney2406 @wilder-fangirl

#helmut zemo #zemo #helmut zemo x reader #zemo x reader #marvel #tfatws #the falcon and the winter soldier

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gifted-burnout-archive · 4 years

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Route 66

Requested?: Yes! @dxlanhxlland asked for a Owen x Reader where y/n is oblivious to Owen’s flirting. I added a little more to it, not gonna lie, so i hope you still like it my lovey!

Word Count: 5.6K+

Author’s Note: I found out Route 66 went through Oklahoma and kinda just had to write this tonight... Struck by inspiration, so I was. It’s nonsense, and it’s mine, and that makes it acceptable for the blog. Enjoy!

Warning: nothing really, it’s all fluff.

masterlist | taglist

Being best friends with an actor had some major perks. To start, you were always the plus one for premieres, parties, festivals, all of it. Then there was the constant gifts from around the world sent to you back home, and getting to help with script run throughs if someone’s sick, or being sent over snippets of shows months before they aired, being a part of the secret without having all the hard work that came along with it.

The best thing was always the reunions though, when that favourite person comes back from weeks or months away, back to your little Oklahoma town, even if just for a little while. That feeling of adrenaline and serotonin mixed together as lost souls reconnect after so long apart, it’s special.

Of course, the worst thing is watching them leave again. That’s exactly what Y/N was facing that weekend after two months of her best friend Owen being home from filming in Vancouver.

She knew it would happen of course, his tv show had become a success overnight, it only made sense that the team at Netflix would renew it for another season, but it didn’t make it any easier to see Owen leave again. It was never easy, in fact: Y/N found it was getting harder and harder to make that drive to the airport and send him on his way to LA. The tears that came alongside his departures were plentiful, the rides home alone deathly quiet, the nights empty without him there to spend time with.

It wasn’t like Oklahoma was exactly an exciting place to live.

Y/N had considered taking the jump, moving to LA with the hope of seeing her oldest friend more often, sure, but she didn’t have the money for such an adventure. She had been saving up for a few years now, what with Owen’s rising stardom and eventual permanent relocation imminent, but she was nowhere near close to what she needed.

So, as she woke up that Friday morning, she made a conscious decision as she pulled on a sundress and tidied her hair until a floppy sunhat, as she slipped into some sandals, grabbed her handbag, and ventured into the blazing sun of the Oklahoma summer: she was going to make this the best gosh darn weekend of Owen’s life.

“Well, don’t you look determined.” Owen commented with a smile from across the street, waving from the front steps of his house at his best friend, who waved right back. “What you got planned for me today then?” He asked with a smirk as he jogged across the road, and Y/N took in just how good he looked that morning in some vintage sports top repping a team she didn’t know, paired with a denim jacket and shorts.

“Well, I thought we could go exploring.” Y/N answered with a smile, lifting her car keys from her purse. “I think you need a trip down memory lane before disappearing off to LA again.” The decisive words had Owen unable to contain his smile as he followed her towards the truck parked in her driveway, slinging an arm over her shoulder a they walked over, taking a breath and being overcome with Y/N’s perfume: God, he loved that smell.

God, he loved her. He had for a while.

It wasn’t something he’d be sharing any time soon, of course, the kid was smarter than that. As Y/N tossed him the keys, and jumped in the passenger side of the truck, him taking the steering wheel, he took one more glance at her, committing the image of her sat in her sundress, pulling out a road map that must have been about thirty years old, to memory. He didn’t want to forget any of this as his life continued to zoom forward in the fast lane, he wanted to keep some moments locked in time, just for him.

“You sure we can be doing this? I was getting quite used to sitting on my couch all day, especially with you there...” Owen commented, and Y/N glanced up, nodding quickly, oblivious to his attempts at flirting. She always had been, more associating it with Owen’s charm rather than his attraction to her.

“Don’t worry, I have the whole day planned… Sort of… Got a mask just in case?” She asked, and Owen pulled the face covering from his pocket to prove it. “Then we’ll be taking a turn up to Jefferson, and you’ll need to get us on the Route.” She instructed, and Owen chuckled at her bossy tone, switching on the engine and pulling out the driveway, with the Great American Road in mind.

There wasn’t anything really exciting about Route 66 most of the year, Owen was aware of that. But if you picked the right day, the right car, and right stretch… It really could be a magical place.

It only took them 40 minutes or so to get onto the road, getting lucky to find it nearly empty as Owen revved the engine and started to speed down the tarmac. Y/N had slipped a CD into the truck’s sound system, the map splayed over her knees as they sang along to the country hits from her dad’s old music collection he couldn’t be bothered to clean out.

“You’re really not going to give me any clues as to where we’re driving?” Owen asked for the fourth time since they had started driving, and Y/N just grinned again, shaking her head.

“And ruin the surprise?” She pouted, and Owen bit his lip at the sight of it. “Not a chance, Joyner… We should go on the Live!” She exclaimed suddenly, causing the boy to laugh. Y/N had never been one for technology, but she knew how important it was to Owen’s job: social media presence was important to him, Owen had always enjoyed interacting with his fans.

Y/N took off her seatbelt and slid across the truck seat, reaching across Owen’s body and grabbing his phone out his jacket pocket, the boy doing his best to stay calm as her other hand grazed against the exposed skin above the collar of his shirt. She moved away as quickly as she had arrived, buckling herself back into her seatbelt and finding Owen’s Instagram app. He glanced over, grinning at her puzzled expression.

“Swipe right on the screen, Y/N.” He instructed as he watched the road, and the girl followed his directions. “Are you on the camera?” He asked, catching her nodding in his peripheral. “Great. At the bottom, there should be a button that says live. Click it, and you’ll be there.” He directed, but Y/N was a step ahead, proud of herself as she brought the camera up.

“I think it’s working!” She squeaked in excitement, panning the phone up to a grinning Owen, then out onto the view of the road. “Let me try and zoom…” She muttered, not noticing the watcher count jumping higher and higher up as she tapped on the screen, letting out a soft ‘oops!’ as she switched the camera to face herself. “Owen I think I broke your phone…” She said softly, moving the screen away from her face and frowning. “Oh, wait, no… There’s people talking to you!” She exclaimed, and Owen shook his head at her adorable incompetence, pulling over to the side of the road. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I just have an idea.” He said quickly, holding a hand out for the phone and smiling into the camera, waving hello. “Hey guys! Sorry about that, if you haven’t already met my best friend Y/N, you should know she’s a little new to anything from 1998 onwards. Bear with me.” He said with a smile, quickly propping the phone up on the centre console of the truck. “And there, can you see us both?” He asked, quickly glancing down to check the answers. When he received an overwhelming stream of ‘yes!’, he sat himself back with a smile. “Well, spontaneous live! Hello! We are on a mystery trip, Y/N is surprising me before I head back to LA.” Owen prefaced as he indicated back out onto the road, continuing their drive. “We’re, what? Fifteen minutes out now?”

“Yeah, about that. Hello Owen’s followers!” Y/N waved at the phone. “O, what’s the text at the bottom?” She asked, getting the boy laughing again.

“It’s the comments, from people watching. Have a look, read some out, that’s what I usually do.” Owen explained, and Y/N leaned closer to the phone with an excited smile, catching sight of the first comment she saw.

“Aw, they’re all saying hello back! This is so cool!” Y/N squealed, biting her lip as she read a little more. “Why do you use a phone like my grandma?” She giggled at the comment, sitting back a little. “Good question, I don’t have a good answer. I’ve never really needed a phone; not like I would call anyone but Owen anyway. My life’s a lot less exciting than his.” She answered with a smile and happy shrug. “Oh, this exit, this one.”

“You’re sure this leads somewhere?” Alex checked, raising an eyebrow as he pulled off onto a road that was only a step away from dirt tracks. “And for the record, Y/N’s life is plenty exciting.” They shared a glance, both smiling at one another, Owen only pulling his eyes away to focus on the road.

“Well, maybe he’s right but he’s quite a tough act to follow, Owen’s followers.” She commented with another wave to the camera, quickly point him down another dirt road.

“Is this where you kill me on my own live feed, Y/N? That’s so not fetch.” Owen said with a roll of the eyes, and Y/N punched his arm gently.

“Stop trying to make fetch happen, it’s not going to happen.” She muttered, quoting the movie the pair had watched the night before. She leaned forward again, reading the new comments that were popping up. “How long have Owen and I been friends?” She read aloud, and glanced back at her friend. “What is it now, fifteen years?” She guessed, and he nodded. “Wait! Does that make me the original Owen Joyner fan?” She asked with a bright smile.

“I suppose it does… I mean, you were the only person to clap after my third grade concert.” Owen remarked, and Y/N giggled at the fond memory. “So, yeah…” He trailed off as they came over a hill. “Wow…” He muttered.

Y/N was quick to pick up the phone and flip the camera, presenting the view to the audience accompanying them with a giggle.

The dirt track wound its way along to the right, but Owen drove off-road, glad for the tires on the truck, coming to a stop at the edge of the bluest lake he had ever seen in person. The way the road led was to a cliff side, about 25 feet above the water, and trees popped up sporadically around the lake’s border, providing shade against the burning sun overhead.

“I thought this was dream…” Owen whispered, and Y/N turned the camera to face him, catching his expression of complete awe as he looked out at the scene.

The pair had visited once before, as kids, and it looked the exact same as it had back then. Owen had almost forgotten it existed, after them never visiting again he just assumed he had dreamed it, the day out he had spent with his family and Y/N. But there it was, right in front of him, and he turned to look at the girl who had brought it back to him.

“I stole swim trunks from your room last week, and there’s a cooler in the back.” Y/N said with a cheesy grin, glad she had kept the surprise for so long, because the look on her best friend’s face was priceless. She glanced down at the phone again, reading another comment. “Oh, who do I like most out of the JATP cast?” She read aloud, flipping the camera and smiling. “Definitely Owen, but besides him? I met Madison at New Year’s, she’s awesome!” She answered with a grin.

To her left, she was oblivious to Owen’s slack jawed expression as he tried to comprehend just how much he was in love with the girl beside him. Only Y/N would have come up with something this special, this brilliant, and act like she didn’t just make the boy’s entire year.

“You know, whenever I count my blessings Y/N, you show up twice.” Owen muttered, the girl glancing up at him as a blush coloured her cheeks. She glanced back down at the phone, her eyebrows furrowing, the compliment falling prey to the breeze that came through the car’s open windows.

“Owen, what is a Tic Tac and why does everyone want you to make one?” She asked, handing over the phone, and Owen shook his head in disbelief at her, smiling to himself.

“Right guys, don’t go confusing Y/N, her pretty little head can’t always handle it.” He remarked, teasing her as Y/N climbed out the car and made her way to collect the cooler and blankets from the truck bed, shouting a ‘hey!’ in response. Owen laughed, his eyes scanning over the comments for a moment before landing on a question:

When are you going to tell her, Owen? The heart eyes are real.

“I’ll sign out for now guys, come back to you on my story later. Thanks for tuning in!” He said with a wave to the camera, ending the live with a shaky breath, Y/N appearing at his side door a moment later.

“So, what is a Tic Tac?” She asked, opening the door for Owen, who quickly clambered out, taking the cooler off her hands as the pair started for the water’s edge. Y/N laid down the tattered blanket on the sand shores of the lake, and tossed Owen’s swim trunks and her bikini down beside her. If that boy had thought they come here and not swim, he was sorely mistaken.

“A TikTok,” Owen corrected. “Is a short video. Not much more to it.” He shrugged, and Y/N looked up.

“What, like a Vine?” She asked, scoffing when Owen raised an eyebrow. “I don’t like phones; it doesn’t mean I’m a caveman.” Y/N reminded, opening up the cooler as Owen sat it and himself down, handing over a beer to the blonde boy. He smiled, pulling out the car key and sticking it under the cap, popping it off with ease before taking Y/N’s drink and doing the same, both taking a sip of the cold beverage and sharing in a happy sigh.

The silence was comforting, familiar, accompanied only by the rustling of trees in the wind and the sound of cicadas in the nearby grass. It was like the pair had found themselves a slice of heaven only an hour or so away from home, a spot just for themselves, and as Owen glanced over at Y/N, who lay back on her elbows and bathed in the sunshine, he was tempted.

Tempted to maybe tell her how he felt, explain how he didn’t want to go to LA again without her, but the words never came. He wasn’t about to lose her.

“Thank you… For this. For everything, the past few months I’ve been back.” He decided on, taking another swig of the bitter drink, looking out onto the water in thought. “I forget sometimes, how great home can be…”

“That’s alright… You’re life’s moving forward, you can’t get stuck in one place.” Y/N responded softly, letting her eyes cast over him, the way he smiled out on the water, the way he held onto the neck of the beer so that it swung between his fingers. “Just don’t forget home entirely. That’s when you start to lose who you are.” The words were ones she had considered for the past few years now, when Owen’s career took off, she wondered if they’d ever have a talk like this. Where she’d have to remind him where he came from, who he was before fame… Before he left home indefinitely.

“Come on.” Owen clambered to his feet after a moment, holding out a hand to his friend with a small smile. “Time to make some memories.” He said as Y/N’s hand fell into his and she placed down her beer, letting him lead her towards the truck again, Owen scooping up the swimsuits as they went. She did her best to keep up with the blonde boy’s longer strides, the pair starting the trail towards the little cliff that hung over the water.

“Feeling a littler adventurous, aren’t we?” Y/N raised an eyebrow at her friend’s determined expression, taking her bikini from his hands.

“Yeah, it’s usually Charlie doing shit like this…” Owen muttered, coming to a stop as they reached their destination at the top of the hill, amongst trees and bushes. He was quick to pull off his jacket and t-shirt, glancing over as Y/N dropped her hat onto the pile. She couldn’t help stopping and glancing at the toned abdomen her friend had maintained over the years thanks to the job, her eyes trailing up to find Owen watching her with a playful smirk. “Enjoying the view there?” He asked, sending a wink over that had Y/N flushing and averting her gaze quickly, walking around the back of a nearby tree.

“You’re ridiculous, Owen. I bring you to swim and you want to jump off a cliff.” She called out as she stripped down and slipped into the bikini, Owen catching a glimpse of the bare back, gulping at the sight and finding his eyes falling down to his feet. “You’ll need to go first; give me your phone and I’ll film it for the Instagram.” She called again, collecting her clothing her walking back round to the clearing where Owen waited, doing his best to not let his jaw drop.

It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen Y/N in a swim suit before, but as he thought back, it was the first bikini. She was stunning, the white fabric clinging flush against her skin, almost cut like a thong rather than swimwear.

“Owen?” Y/N asked again, dropping her clothes down and waving a hand in front of Owen’s face, breaking the trance she had unknowingly caused.

“Right, my phone… Sorry.” He muttered, reaching down and grabbing it from amongst the clothes, clearing his throat as he came up, handing the device over and walking to the cliff’s edge. “Please make sure you record this. I don’t know if I’ll be able to do it again.” He admitted, looking back as Y/N filmed him, giving him a thumbs up.

“Do a flip!” She called out as he got his toes to the edge, earning a chuckle from the boy. He took a deep breath, and a few steps back. “Give it some pizazz.” He turned to look to her, and the camera, outstretching his hands by his sides as he walked backwards, right for the cliff edge.

“Gotta stop being adorable Y/N, or I might just fall for you.” Owen said with a wink, taking a final step and plummeting down to the waters below with a yell of adrenaline.

Y/N rushed to the edge of the cliff as she heard a splash, looking down at the deep blue below, the water rippling where Owen had entered, and she waited until he remerged with a flick of his hair and whoop of triumph.

“Come on, Y/N! You can’t leave me down here alone!” He called up, and Y/N grinned, quickly dropping the phone amongst their pile of clothes. She took a second, a deep breath, building up the nerve before running fast and jumping over the cliff’s edge with a front flip, landing in the warm water below feet first, her heart thudding against her ribcage so hard she thought it might break her bones.

She let herself be submerged in the water for a moment before pushing herself to the surface, coming up and gasping for air as Owen swam over, the pair holding onto one another to stay afloat as they erupted into laughter at their reckless abandon.

“Again?” Y/N asked, breathing heavy, and Owen could feel himself falling deeper once more.

“Definitely.”

The following days had been spent in a similar fashion, Y/N being quite adamant in her adventures before Owen left for the sunshine state. She did her best to capture as many of the moments she could too, whether it was a tourist stop or a movie night or diner food along Route 66, she did her very best to take pictures despite sub-optimal phone skills.

She didn’t want him leaving and forgetting her, she wouldn’t let it happen.

His flight off to LA came sooner than either of them wanted, the early morning alarm buzz Y/N was sure to set causing groans to echo around Owen’s bedroom. She had stayed over the night before, falling asleep cuddled into his side during a movie marathon of the Lord of the Rings franchise, not that Owen had minded. In all honesty, the moment she had begun to snooze with his thigh as a pillow, Owen hadn’t moved a muscle, too scared to wake her when she looked so peaceful. He had fallen asleep sat up, and as he slowly came to, his neck was punishing him for that decision.

He surveyed the room through hazy vision, catching Y/N’s shadow rushing off the bed to turn off the alarm clock, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room. It was early doors, maybe three or four in the morning, the night outside still dark, thought not for long. By the time they got themselves on the road for the airport, dawn would be breaking.

“Morning, gorgeous.” Owen muttered, his voice heavy with sleep, the words causing Y/N to pause at the sound, a shiver running through her. “What time is it?” He muttered, rolling the pain from his neck and shoulder slowly as his vision finally focused, Y/N gathering the last of his belongings for him to take back to LA with him.

“3.52. We need to be on the road in a half hour.” She voice was no more than a whisper, and Owen smiled. It had been a while since he heard her early morning voice, which was always a mix of sleepiness and Y/N’s fear of waking others in the house. “Go get a shower, I’ll take your stuff down to the car.” She said, sending a smile his way in the low light that made Owen’s heart flutter.

“You got it, boss.” He saluted lazily as she disappeared out the room with the first of his packed cases, leaving Owen to sigh and roll the last cricks out of his shoulders with a fond smile, the weight of Y/N’s head on his upper leg still lingering as he got up, clothes in hand, and headed for his shower.

Their was a tension in his chest that rose and refused to go away as Owen stepped under the stream of warm water, one Owen suspected would stay with him for a lot longer than the flight home, too. He was leaving again, and again he had chickened out of saying how he felt about his best friend. And the excuse that it might ruin their friendship didn’t seem to be cutting it anymore, it hadn’t worked in a while, because now Owen was just lying to Y/N.

Under the water, he had a chance to hate himself and his cowardice, doing so until the water ran clear of soapy suds. But once the suds were down the drain, Owen tried his hardest to focus on all the fun the two had had over his months at home, over that weekend in particular.

How they had stayed at their lake until dark those few days before, cuddled on the sands and pointing out constellations to one another until Owen’s mom called to check in on him, to make sure he was alright. How they had spent the following day on the road again, stopping at their favourite childhood diner, caught up in hours of conversation over milkshakes and burgers. How their last day together had been spent in his bedroom with music blaring as they packed, Y/N joining him for an Instagram live, and an evening of movies and popcorn until sleep took over.

As he pulled on his clothes for the day of travelling, Owen quickly brushed his teeth and found himself scrolling through the photos Y/N and he had captured of the last three days: so many of them blurry or askew, but every single on forcing Owen’s smile even wider. He had gotten the lucky draw of friends, of best friends, but leaving this time felt different…

It felt like they were saying goodbye for good.

“You ready in there, Owen?” A chap came on the bathroom door, and Owen quickly closed his phone and shoved it in his pocket, spitting out the last glob of toothpaste and wiping his face before opening the door, Y/N stood on the other side in one of her favourite sundresses, and one of Owen’s hoodies on top. “Time to go…” She said with a sad smile, holding out a hand. He came over to her quickly, her outstretched hand coming around his waist as his rested over her shoulders, and the pair started downstairs and out the house.

“You should come visit this time. I know you have work and things here…” Owen trailed off when she nodded softly, separating from him to head to the truck’s driver side.

“Yeah, maybe I will.” Y/N answered softly, climbing into the truck and leaving it at that. A part of her knew it would be the smartest idea, but it would just lead to another goodbye like this one.

As Owen clambered into the car, he had to push Y/N’s overnight bag to the floor, one she had brought across the street for ease of access, but he was soon buckled in without issue, and they were on the road three minutes ahead of schedule. The only noises seemingly allowed were mechanical: the turn of the tires on the road below, the indicator flicking as Y/N took a turn, the revving of the engine as they started off from a stop light. Neither could muster the strength for words of farewell, it was too daunting, too difficult, and instead their silence swallowed their thoughts all the way to the airport terminal.

When the engine switched off, somehow it all became worse.

“I’ll get your bags…” Y/N spoke up after a minute or so of complete silence, stepping out the car and out onto the deserted terminal drop-off’s pavement. Her sandals slapped between the sole of her foot and the tarmac as she rounded the car to open the truck bed, beginning the labour of hauling Owen’s cases down to the sidewalk. When she heard the truck door slam, she didn’t look up, the pain of goodbye swelling in her chest.

Owen couldn’t stand it, the idea of not having her around every day, of not seeing her smile any more. It had been building up for years, of course, and finally hit its limit: he couldn’t go this time without her. He wholeheartedly believed that going back to LA, then to Vancouver, than to God knew where, would be impossible to bear if he didn’t have Y/N by his side through it.

So as he got out the truck, he grabbed the overnight bag Y/N had left in the truck front, with all her essentials, in front of her eyes, garnering his attention.

“Come with me to LA.” Owen said the words with shaky conviction, trying not to falter as her watery eyes looked up into his. Hers locked on his, then the overnight bag,

“Very funny, Owen…” Y/N whispered, her eyes trailing quickly back to their feet. “I don’t think this is really the time for jokes though…”

“Good, I’m not joking.” Owen said, more definite in his stance this time. “I want you to give your keys to the valet service, I want you to grab that overnight bag, and I want you to come to La with me.”

“Come on Owen…” Y/N sighed, a sad smile on her lips. “I’d cramp your style in the big city, you need to be moving forward…” She looked up, wiping away a stray tear as she mustered the courage to look him in the eye. “You’re just being nice because here is boring, but I’ll be fine. You need to do this, without me, so you can experience it all.” The words were kind, but misinformed, and the longer Y/N went on, the closer Owen came to exploding. “You need to spend time with your friends, with yourself, get to know who Owen is in Hollywood, because it’s not Owen in Oklahoma. Besides, you don’t need me hanging around when you’re working, or out at parties, you certainly don’t need me in the picture when you’re flirting with girls and dating-”

“Jesus, Y/N, the only girl I’ve flirted with in four years is you!”

The words hung in the air, a stray car driving along the terminal front and turning onto the freeway, the two friends stood an awkward distance apart under the harsh fluorescent lights of the airport entrance. A passer-by might have thought them strangers, and in a way they were. The glass had shattered, a secret revealed neither thought would ever come to light: one for fear of losing the other; the second believing such feelings never existed in the first place.

“What… What do you mean?” Y/N’s voice was shaky, her hands tugging at the sleeves of Owen’s hoodie she wore. “Owen, I’ve read the gossip columns, I know you’re dating, living it up in Hollywood. You don’t need to make up some bullshit to try and get me on a plane.”

“It’s not bullshit! God, are you really that oblivious, Y/N?” Owen let out a frustrated chuckle, running a hand through his mess of still damp hair, beginning to pace along the length of the truck before turning back and stopping. “Tabloids are gossip and rumours, Y/N, and none it’s true because I’ve been in love with you for as long as I care to remember!”

The words spilled from his lips before he could moderate volume or filter the language, his biggest secret laid out in front of them both on the concrete pavement below.

“… Why me?” The question was timid, quiet, something that could have been lost to early morning ambience had Owen not so desperately been waiting for a response to his confession. It wasn’t what he expected though, his frustration fading to concern as he walked over, cupping Y/N’s face in his hands, tilting her chin up so the teary-eyed girl’s gaze met his own. “I’m not exactly in your league, am I?”

“You’re far beyond it, certainly. It’s me doing the reaching here… No-one, and I mean no-one, makes me feel the way you do. Nothing makes me happier than seeing you laugh, nothing sadder than seeing you cry…” His thumb came to wipe away another rogue tear from her cheek, a smile on his lips.

“But you could do better! I’m sure there’s a thousand girls in LA who would kill to be with you, Owen.” Her words were frantic, panicked almost. “Maybe you’re wrong, maybe you’re tired and this is just nonsense talk! That makes sense, guys like you don’t flirt with girls like me I-” She was starting to pull back, so Owen pulled her flush to his body, her hands finding position against his chest as he held her tight to him by the waist.

“You’re like air, and light and sleep and water and heat… Y/N, it’s quite clear to me that I need you. And I can’t leave you here, not again.” Owen said softly, calmly, despite his heart’s erratic pace, not dissimilar to the feeling he had only a few days before, jumping off that cliff and plunging into the sapphire blue waters of the lake.

It was that adrenaline that pushed Owen to finally find the bravery to press his lips to Y/N’s, a kiss that had been years in the making for him, and seemingly for Y/N too. She kissed back immediately, her hands coming to his neck and pulling him closer. It felt like floating, his lips of hers, hers on his, the pair not seeing need to break apart as Owen lifted Y/N into his arms, her legs coming to wrap around his waist as her hands held his face tenderly.

“Come to LA with me…” Owen whispered as they finally broke apart, his breathing heavy as he examined her up close. Her eyes fluttered open, her lips swollen from their kiss, cheeks tinted pink from heat, pupils blown like he suspected his own were.

He would never get over how beautiful she was.

“Ok…” Y/N replied, a smile spreading over her lips. It was crazy, yes, and she wasn’t usually the type to do anything without planning it to some degree beforehand, but it felt right. “Let’s do it. Let’s go to LA.” She confirmed, Owen laughing in disbelief and pressing his lips to hers once more.

And so they did, gathering Owen’s suitcases and Y/N’s overnight duffel and booking another ticket for the plane. She left a voicemail for her family, to let them know what was happening, what they had decided, and Owen sent a message to the cast group chat, unable to wipe the smile from his face.

The memories they had made that weekend weren’t the end of something old, rather the beginning of something new.

TAGS: @siennanoelle01 @eries45 @thesweetestsinner @fangirlangioma @saroo-hawks @all-in-fangirl @charliessunset @lana-moe-fandoms @bigdesi @avngrsinitiative @lolychu @lazydaisy19 @hologramband @korydickson @futuremrsb-r-main @uglypeachh @reggieandthereggies @dxlanhxlland @rogersangel @izzyhogue @writerinlearning @independentgirl @delicatelukepatterson @mybrainiswhack @uhmitstori @mon-charmante @writingforphantoms @musicconversedance @mjflower @heimdoodle @kcd15 @-episkey- @simp4madi @obxmermaid @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @kristencoontz @aliciameix @kinda-just-chillin-here @vicesvirtuesfanfic @daisiesforlacey @valntynegillespie @ritz-hell-hotel @hemmingsness @ssprayberrythings @mdlyncline @reggiesleatherjacket @parkeret @ghostlyb1tch @marinettepotterandplagg

#owen joyner #owen patrick joyner #owen jatp #owen joyner x reader #owen joyner x y/n #jatp owen #julie and the phantoms #jatp #owen joyner imagine #fluff #owen joyner fluff

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missjoolee · 3 years

Text

And I can't wait to get on the road again

There is a music festival up near Sacramento that they got tickets to, so they leave early in the morning with the idea to check in at their motel before they head for the festival. Between Julie, Flynn, and Willie, Flynn is the "morning person", so she picks the other two up with a gift of coffee and starts up her epic road trip playlist as they hop onto I-5 North. Willie called shotgun so Julie is in the back seat, eyes glazed over, absentmindedly nodding along to the music as she waits for the caffeine to kick in.

Shortly after they leave the city proper, traffic thins out and Julie is enjoying the scenic landscape that is so different from the city, when a beat up station wagon begins passing them on the left. Not paying much attention to it, she suddenly locks eyes with a brunette in a beanie in their backseat. He smiles and it’s so beautiful that she can’t help smiling back. Then, the wagon has pulled passed, successfully breaking her out of the moment, and she gets pulled back into conversation with Flynn and Willie.

About an hour later a familiar station wagon begins passing them again. Julie is looking at it confused, when she makes eye contact with the same guy in a beanie as before and he he mouths what looks like “bathroom” while pointing towards the front seats. She mouths back “oh” and a sheepish grin takes over his face, biting his bottom lip. It’s kind of adorable so she, again, returns the grin and then throws him a small wave goodbye as his car pulls all the way passed them again. She barely sees his sheepish expression morph into one of radiant joy. It's a good look on him and she can't help but wonder what it'd be like to have a smile like that directed at her on a regular basis.

They have been on the road for two and half hours when that same station wagon, creeping past on their left, draws Julie's attention back outside. The moment their eyes meet this time, she is raising an eyebrow, fake judgement clear. He's apparently prepared for their interaction, lifting up a bag of chips and a Gatorade. "Snacks." he mouths at her. She shakes her head at him in amusement when he drops the snacks and starts miming at her and mouthing something else at the same time. First he points at Julie ("you"), then he waves his hands around his head, spinning his fingers in tight circles as their moment together draws to an end. She's disappointed that he wasn't able to finish his thought when she sees him turn forward. Next thing she knows, the wagon stops passing them and drifts back so that she can see the guy again, now keeping speed with them instead. Julie lets out a laugh at him as he shoots her a smug look, ignoring Flynn's questioning tone from the driver's seat. He starts miming again and it's only because Julie was forced to play charades with her dad for years that she is able to figure out what this guy is trying to say. "Your hair is beautiful." Oh. Heat rises to her cheeks and she says "thank you", grin softening. A honk from behind them alerts them that another car has pulled up behind them and doesn't appreciate their blocking the fast lane. The station wagon begins speeding up again. They share a wave goodbye and Julie spends the next half hour with a goofy grin on her face.

It's been four hours since they left LA, and Flynn's playlist has picked up in energy. Sandstorm by Darude comes on and Flynn's sedan becomes a nightclub, the bass loud and all three of them dancing in their seats. Julie dances her hands all around to the melody when movement in her peripheral draws her attention to the window. A laugh is startled out of her when she sees the whole occupancy of the station wagon dancing along with them. It's obvious that they don't know what song they are dancing to, because they are all dancing to different beats.. The moment he clocks Julie's delight at their antics, Beanie's smile gets bigger and he tries to mimic her hand movements. This time, the wagon doesn't slow down but they keep dancing together until they have passed and are merging back into the right lane. In Flynn's car, the dance party continues. This is definitely turning into one of the most memorable road trips Julie has been on.

They make their own stop at a rest area 30 minutes later for a bathroom break. They use this time to switch up the seating order and Willie takes the wheel. The problem is, his driving is so erratic that Flynn can’t be in the front when he drives because she will otherwise spend all her time stressed out grabbing at the “oh shit” handle whilst trying to push on the imaginary breaks. This means Julie gets a turn at being in the front. With Willie's lead foot, it isn’t long before she sees a familiar station wagon up ahead. Then Willie is throwing on the indicator lights and moving into the passing lane and it’s now their turn to pass the other vehicle. There is a cute Blonde at the wheel and it looks like he's shouting something before Brunette Guy is leaning across the back seat, a look of wonder on his face, to look out the window at them. Julie has just enough time to throw up a peace sign with her fingers, stick her tongue out at them, and see his responding huff of a laugh, before their sedan has pulled passed and the distance between them grows at a rate that Julie knows it will be the last they see of them.

They make it to their motel, quickly check in, and drop off their overnight bags. They don't waste time as the doors open in an hour and there is sure to be a line for parking. Once in line, they roll the windows down and Julie enjoys the sunlight and breeze as their excitement for the festival grows. They've abandoned the road trip playlist by now and are playing their favorite songs they hope to hear later today from that big stage. They creep closer to the parking entrance until finally they have a pink paper to put on the dash and are being directed by people in yellow vests with orange batons to the next available parking spot. They take a few minutes to apply sun screen before getting out of the car. Julie stretches her arms above her head, glad she'll be out of the car for a while, when she hears a shout behind her that draws her attention.

"Hey, Luke! It's your Backseat Beauty!"

Julie turns and her eyes immediately catch on a station wagon further down the line of cars that she's become quite acquainted with today. Looking around, her eyes eventually land on three guys, one in a familiar beanie, squabbling a few cars away. Beanie guy has a different brunette in a headlock and is giving him a noogie, while the Blonde chastises them both. Leaning against the back bumper, Julie giggles at the sight, the sound grabbing their attention and Beanie drops his friend as they approach Flynn's car. He smiles down at her.

"Hey."

"Hi", she smiles back.

"I'm Luke, by the way." His expression turns slightly unsure, hand creeping up to the back of his neck. It's completely endearing and Julie's smile softens as she offers her hand to shake.

"Julie."

------------------------------

This idea came to me while on my own road trip last weekend where there was a lady with really beautiful hair in a car we passed and I got to wondering how I might have told her. Then the Jukebox part of the brain quickly laid claim and here we are. While the dancing hands to Sandstorm is something my friends and I have done since high school, it definitely got me thinking about a scene from @pearlcaddy‘s Wizarding World of Food Service series and really, I’ll take any opportunity to hype that au.

#I made a thing!#joolee attempts writing #Juke #jukebox #jatp #julie and the phantoms #this wasn't meant to be 1300 words #ideas went a bit wild and at one point an fm adapter tried to force it's way in #but i managed to prune down the shenanigans

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lothirielswandc · 3 years

Text

I SCREAM, YOU SCREAM (Starring John Constantine's Impeccable Parenting skills)

*This is a one-shot special for 3k views; it can be read regardless of where you are in the story*

— TWO YEARS AGO —

— LONDON —

“This is so stupid.”

“Oi! I’m not enjoying myself, either. I could be doing a lot more interesting things on a Saturday afternoon.”

“Yeah, I’m sure liver failure is a big commitment.”

“Okay,” Zatanna scooted forward, leaning between Raven and Constantine from the back seat. Raven’s knuckles were white as she gripped the steering wheel. When she glanced in the rearview mirror, she saw Etrigan calmly lick his thumb and turn the page on his copy of People Magazine.

“You’re a bloody seventeen year-old. How do you not know how to drive?” Constantine complained, turning in shotgun to give Raven a judgemental look.

She gritted her teeth. She did not like being in such close confines with him. His comments were getting on her nerves. And he smelled. The sharp aroma of liquor mixed with stale vomit. “I’ve been busy.”

“Like you’re one to judge, John.” Zatanna quipped, shifting to keep her uncomfortable position. “You’re terrible behind the wheel. How did you even get a license?”

“When most sods my age were reenacting the end of Thelma and Louise, I was mastering the dark arts.”

“Mastering is generous. Oh, Katy Perry’s new album is venerous,” Etrigan flipped to another page.

“Alright—we’re off topic, I don't want to be parked here all day. Set the knob to drive and let’s shove off.” Constantine grumbled.

Raven did as she was told and pulled on the “knob.” When it was level with the drive setting, the car started to inch forward in the empty parking lot.

“You’re doing great, sweetie. Let’s go over some basic driving rules first—” Zatanna offered.

Constantine dismissed her with a hand. “Blah blah blah, just ignore her. Here’s what you need to know: green means go. Yellow means go faster. Red means go when the coppers aren't looking.”

“Yeah, most of what you said is illegal,” Raven rolled her eyes. In the process, her gaze was drawn to the dashboard, “Can we turn the music on?”

“Yes.”

“No!”

Zatanna and Constantine exchanged a glare.

“She needs to focus. She’s not used to this,” Zatanna remarked.

“Any situation is improved with Led Zeppelin, Zee,” Constantine gestured at the slowly-inching car, “and this one is in dire need of some improvement. Roth, go to the stop sign. It’s time to release you into the population—and there’s a gas pedal there for a reason. Step on it.”

Raven tapped the other pedal with her foot. The car lurched forward and the stop sign blurred past as they met oncoming traffic.

“WOAH—!” Zatanna leaned over and straightened the wheel. Constantine’s face was squished up against the window. Etrigan barely glanced up from his magazine.

“I never gave Chaz enough credit for raising a daughter,” Constantine yanked himself off the glass surface, rubbing his face. “Bloody hell.”

Raven hardly caught his words. She was too busy trying to figure out the maze of roads before her. Everything was backwards: Londoners drove on the left, opposing every American street she’d been exposed to for the past few years. She hunched down, squinting, trying to stay in between the lines. Raven’s foot cried out in protest of being set at such an odd angle for a long period of time.

“You’re not even on the road—you’re in the other lane, you have to level yourself!” Constantine gripped the dashboard in front of him.

“I’m trying—stop yelling at me!” Raven snapped at him.

“Should’ve let Boston join us. He’s dead; he can't die in a car accident. He’s immune,” Constantine covered his eyes.

Something red filled the rearview mirror. “Here’s Boston—oh, fuck.”

“Shit—shit!” The car swerved. Raven winced as horns blared around her. She sank down lower in her seat.

“Boston!” Zee swatted the air that depicted the ex-trapeze artist’s spectral form. “Bad timing! We’re busy!”

“What? Etrigan texted and said you were getting ice cream.” Boston Brand settled into the empty seat behind Constantine, floating in the unoccupied space.

“You can't even eat it.” Zatanna pointed out.

“Don't rub it in! I don’t go for the food: I love scaring the kids that work at Dairy Queen by turning the machines on and off.”

Raven shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road. “I should’ve never returned to society. I should’ve stayed in Themyscira—no, I should’ve sailed to an empty island and lived out the rest of my life with a coconut named Wilson.”

“Don't steal my plan B,” Warned Constantine.

Boston’s form went through Constantine’s chair, his face hovering before the infamous Hellblazer. “You don’t look so good, Johnny. ‘Ey, kiddo, maybe you should stop by a bathroom.”

“Don’t bother. I went on that last turn.”

“Ew.” Boston shuddered and melted into the backseat. Raven chewed on her bottom lip as a traffic light appeared ahead.

“We’re turning right,” Zee instructed her.

“If you run over pedestrians, you get bonus points!”

“Boston, I will banish you to hell, so help me...”

Raven turned on the blinker and the car started to slow. She heard someone uncap a marker and scribble across parchment.

Raven’s eyes slid towards Constantine’s seat. “Are you drawing a pentagram right now?”

“It’s a sign. ‘Says impaired driver. Boston, take this and tape it to the back of the car. Give the wankers some warning.”

“Uh, this says insane driver, not impaired—”

“Shh! Just do it!”

The car steadily approached the crosswalk. Raven looked up and down the street for anyone walking, hopefully not future victims.

“Is that...Nanaue?”

The massive shark was hurrying across the road with his laptop; he was attending MIT online in order to spend more time with John. Apparently, the half-man, half-shark hybrid was an excellent tech wiz.

“Do not hit my boyfriend,” Constantine ordered.

“I'm not—although, for the record, I do not enjoy listening to you hook up with a shark every night.” Raven involuntarily shuddered, shoving away flashbacks of certain thuds late at night that reverberated throughout the House of Mystery.

“Agreed,” Boston nodded along with her. “Thank god for the vinyl records—that Marina lady’s a saint. What is she, Welsh?”

“And Greek.”

“Wow. A literal Greek goddess. Can we listen to her right now?”

“NO!”

The stop light turned yellow.

“Speed up, Raven. This light takes forever,” Zatanna replied.

“Slow down,” Constantine countered. “Do not hit Nanaue. That tall pile of earth-defying genetics is my one source of happiness.”

“High talk from the guy who just said ‘yellow’ means speed up,” Zatanna rolled her eyes in the rearview mirror. “Raven, step on it. We have places to be.”

“Why the rush, Zee? Is there a specific reason you don't want to see him—? You will stop at that crosswalk, young lady!”

“John, don't be an ass. This has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with me wanting ice cream before Boston terrifies the villagers!”

Raven had enough. She shouted over the chaos, “WILL BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP? CALM DOWN RIGHT NOW OR I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND AND NO ONE’S GETTING ICE CREAM!”

Raven turned her attention back to the road. A tower of silver with a glimmering sheen rose before her. In a hoodie with khakis.

Raven slammed on the breaks. Constantine face-planted against the windshield. Zatanna yelped as her seatbelt tugged her back against the tan leather seats. Boston went flying forward, floating past the outside of the car.

When the car fully stopped, Raven shut her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. She opened them, and a massive shark (with all limbs attached) waved at them from the front of the car.

Constantine pulled his face away from the glass (again) and turned to her, “No casualties. A broken nose. An intact boyfriend. Not bad, Roth.”

Boston floated back to the car, scowling, “Uh, I’d like to revisit the ‘no casualties’ part!”

Etrigan finally looked up from his copy of People Magazine, “Are we there yet? Why is Constantine covered in sweat?”

“Because parenting bloody sucks, that's why!”

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justasillybear · 3 years

Text

Is that a Dog?

It all started, as did many of the things that went wrong in Percy’s life, by not asking the right questions.

In his defence, it hadn’t seemed necessary to ask Grover anything other than “Can I have one” when his best friend and roommate had pulled out some freshly baked brownies from the oven.

First mistake.

The second mistake was sneaking two more brownies while Grover hadn’t been looking.

It could be said, as Percy would later point out, that Grover was the one responsible for everything that happened after that. Months later Percy would look back on that moment and realise Grover hadn’t even attempted to warn him that there was weed in the brownies. Then he’d shake his head and think wow Grover really screwed me over. But that was months away.

In the present, Percy felt like he was floating, everything felt bright and new, and Grover was driving him to go get a milkshake. How could he be mad at Grover when he was the reason Percy felt so at peace? He could hear Grover’s Michael Franti CD playing, and his soft voice singing along, not quite drowned out by the loud honks of irate drivers stuck like them in New York traffic. If he were in a clearer state of mind, Percy would likely have realised that Grover had also eaten one of the brownies and shouldn’t have really been driving. But he wasn’t, instead he let his eyes drift out the window up towards the perfectly blue sky. So blue it almost looked like the ocean and Percy wondered if he just reached up would he fall in and-

What?

Holy. Shit.

“A puppy!” Percy screeched, starting out of the window and at the car a few places ahead of them to the left. He turned to Grover and pointed to the little golden retriever that was poking its head out of a car window. It’s tongue was hanging out of its mouth and Percy felt his heart clench at the sight. He hadn’t known it before, but now he realised that was what he’d been missing in his life.

“Nice spot, what a cute dog.” Grover approved, peering over, his eyes looking slightly red and heavy-lidded.

“He looks... Like he gives good hugs”. Percy mused. He desperately wanted to test out his theory. Percy sent up a quick prayer asking for help, and was elated to find the traffic moving. He waited with bated breath while their lane moved forward until they were parked next to the dog. “Fuck yes!” he virtually screamed. Today was the best day!

“He's so tiny?” Percy mused, eyes continuing to stare dreamily over and then… the puppy looked at him and BARKED. And Percy just knew he was calling out to him. Asking to be petted.

Percy unbuckled his seat belt and rolled down the window, decidedly ignoring Grover’s confused exclamations. “He wants to be petted!” Percy offered as he reached out to touch soft golden fur. The dog yipped happily in response, pushing his small wet nose into the offered hand. Percy could feel his eyes growing misty again. He loved dogs so much. He’d always wanted one growing up, but Gabe had never allowed it. His mum had felt bad about it, getting him a fish instead which he’d loved - but it wasn’t the same. Don’t get him wrong, fish were awesome and that gift had been one of the reasons he was now studying marine biology. But… no fish had ever given him this moment. The moment where they look at you with adoration in their eyes and promise to love you forever. Percy hoped the puppy knew that Percy felt the same way.

“Um, Luke. A stranger is petting your dog.”

Percy looked up from the deep blue eyes of his new ride-or-die bestie and saw a blond girl who looked to be around his age staring at him like he was crazy (which Percy thought was a little rude.)

“Is he your dog?” Percy questioned, reluctantly removing his hand away realising that he should probably have asked the owner’s permission before sticking the upper half of his body out of the car to pet their dog. Even a dog as friendly as this, with beautiful and kind blue eyes.

“No. He’s-“

“Mine.” A deep voice cut in, pulling Percy’s attention to the driver seat of the car, where a young man with bright blue eyes, soft golden hair, and a truly wicked smirk was staring at him. The guy looked around 19 with a gnarly looking scar trailing down from his eye to his chin. Which … Damn! The scar should have detracted from how unfairly attractive he was, but instead, it made Percy want to lean over and touch it. He wondered how it would feel. If it would be rough?

Focus Percy!

“Wow, Annabeth, you didn’t say he was cute”. Percy felt his cheeks flush, and he could hear himself spluttering out nonsense for a good few moments, searching for an appropriate response.

The guy kind of looked like his dog, which was weird. What was even weirder was that the realisation made Percy want to reach out and pet his hair too, to see if it was just as soft as his dogs.

“Uuuh, noo..what, not? I’m not… you’re the one that’s. I don’t – cute! Grover. This guy thinks I’m cute?” Percy managed eventually, much to the growing amusement of the man in question. He quickly averted his eyes, turning to Grover who stared back giggling softly. Traitor.

“Percy, you’re very cute. Now you need to sit back down. We could move at any moment.” Grover managed between breathy giggles. He didn’t sound very concerned, so Percy decided it was safe to ignore his warning for now. If Percy had to choose between personal safety and the opportunity to spend time with a cute dog and an equally cute owner, well, safety didn’t stand a chance.

“Okay, Grover,” Percy said in a peaceful tone, turning back around to once again pet the head of the puppy, “but I’m in the middle of something very important right now.” At this Grover’s laughter got louder.

“You!” Percy pointed at the driver, “Have a nice face. And smile. And eyes. Grover and I are going to get milkshakes, would you and your puppy like to join us? We could hold hands and talk about your dog and how all three of you are rocking the blond blue eyes thing-”

“Percy the traffic is moving…” Grover butted in.

“Grover, a moment!” Percy begged, yelping when Grover started to inch the car forwards with the traffic, Percy’s torso still half out of the car. Luck seemed to be on his side today however as the other lane was also moving slowly alongside them, so Percy decided to just continue to pet the dog's head. He shot a quick glare at Grover for good measure though.

“Hey idiot, you need to listen to him and get in the car. What if traffic picks up?” the girl warned, mumbling to herself about high idiots.

“Percy is it?” the driver asked, drawing Percy’s attention away from Grover and back to his unfairly handsome face. Percy could feel a grin stretching across his lips.

“How’d you know my name?” he wonders, feeling pleased. He liked the way his name sounded coming from the older guy, all deep and slow like he was savouring each syllable. The guy laughed at the question.

“Your boyfriend there’s said it a few times.” He explained, and Percy nodded vigorously in understanding, and then begun to shake his head equally as energetically. “Grover? No! He’s like… a brother. Definitely not my boyfriend.” Percy explained forcefully, He really didn’t want the hot guy to get the wrong idea. Grover was his best friend, but he’d rather jump into the harbour than date him.

“Why the harbour?” the guy asked through chuckles. Percy hoped he’d keep laughing, the sound was making his head feel as light as the brownies had.

“Did I say that out loud?”

“Yup, green eyes, you did. And I’m sorry, I’d love to hang out more, but I need to drop my sister off at her girlfriends.” He said, pointing a finger at the girl in the backseat. Percy turned to look at her with sad eyes. The girl with golden curls looked like she couldn’t decide if she should smile or scowl. He was disappointed to note her eyes were more grey than blue.

“Oh, that’s sad.” Percy pouted, retreating back slightly into Grover’s car. Before he was fully in, the guy reached out a hand to stop him. He had nice hands, they were large and calloused, and Percy wanted to hold one.

“Wait. Um, maybe I could give you my number, so I know you got home alright? My name's Luke Castellan. C-A-S-T-E-L-L-A-N. We could get that milkshake another… less traffic-bound time?” Luke asked, looking nervous for the first time, making Percy grin. He quickly whipped out his phone and typed in Luke’s details.

“yes! .” He cheered, once to Luke, and then once again to the dog who was still nuzzling his hand. “So, I’ll see you both soon?”

“I’ll hold you to that, Percy.” Luke teased and Percy felt himself nodding.

“Promise,” Percy said firmly, sliding back into the car to Grover's relief. He waved at Luke once the window was rolled up, pleased to see the guy was still staring over at him. He looked like he was saying sometimes but Percy couldn’t tell what. Whatever it was, it made the girl in the backseat lean forward and smack his shoulder. Luke waved one final time before turning his eyes back to the road. His face looked bright and carefree, and Percy wanted to look at him forever. Then the traffic moved and Luke, and his puppy, were gone.

Percy tried not to feel too sad, but he wished he’d taken a picture.

“Only Percy-fucking-Jackson could get a guy’s number after molesting his dog while high in traffic.” Grover giggled, and Percy allowed himself to be dragged away from his thoughts.

“What can I say. I’m irresistible”. He stated, smirking over at his best friend. Grover just continued to giggle. Laying back in his seat he looked back up to the perfect blue sky and thought of Luke's eyes. Luke Castellan, Luke Castellan, Luke-

Maybe he wouldn’t blame Grover after all.

#Percy Jackson #fanfic prompt #Percy x Luke #Luke x Percy #Lukercy #grover underwood #Luke Castellan #annabeth chase #tw: drugs #[i don't agree with drug use]#[but the prompt was specific]#fanfiction #Percy Jackson au #[luke should have had a dog]#[no one goes evil if they have a dog]

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hufflepuffhollander · 4 years

Text

5 times it didn’t, 1 time it did: tom holland imagine

a/n | this is my first submission for @hollandsrecs 1k bingo event! the prompt was “5 times, 1 time”, a concept you’ll soon understand! I really enjoyed writing this and got really in my Feelings™ listening to Mean it by Gracie Abrams (give it a listen).

summary: Tom keeps missing his chance to make things right with you after rumors spread about an affair with one of his costars.

tom x fem reader | contains angst for days, language, and resolution fluff | word count: 2.2k | enjoy!

“I can’t believe you.”

“What, what can’t you believe?”

“You told me you’d never let the tabloids come in between our relationship.”

“As far as I’m concerned, they haven’t. You’re still sitting here, aren’t you?”

“In our apartment? Seriously?”

“What do you want from me?”

“To call your publicist or your manager or whoever the hell will be able to shut all this shit down.”

“It’s the internet, y/n. You can’t ‘shut it down’. What’s out there is out there.”

“Why are you being so apathetic about this?”

“Why is it such a big deal?”

“Half the country thinks you’re dating your costar and that I’m a desperate sidepiece.”

“You know you’re not.”

“But they don’t.”

“So?”

“Is it so hard to come out and say that it’s not true?”

“People will think what they want regardless of what I say.”

“You know what, fuck this.”

You got off the couch, throwing your hands up in defeat.

“I don’t know why I have to try so hard to convince you to make this relationship a priority.”

Tom sighed heavily, starting to get off the couch and follow you out of the room, but receded and stayed planted. He wanted to say something that would make you turn around and come back, something to figure it out. To tell you that you were a priority, really his first one. But he didn’t know how to say that, and he stayed silent.

He could’ve apologized, and he didn’t. This was the first time you’d ever walked out of an argument without resolving the problem and ending it with a hug and mutual I-love-you’s. It took all of your gathered strength to keep facing forward and walk further and further away from him, instead of running back, folding into his arms and seeking out the comfort that was his body heat. It epically sucked that he had the power to make you both the angriest and happiest you ever knew how to feel.

You and Tom went to sleep that night silently, staying a hundred feet apart in your queen sized bed, backs turned towards each other. You hated feeling the draft between your loose shirt and bare back — he hated not being able to fall asleep inhaling your shampoo with his head against the back of yours. You stayed awake listening to the silence, hoping he’d speak. Hoping he’d say he was sorry, that he’d fix it. But all he did was yawn, or sigh, or stretch out and pull his hand back like it had been burned when he accidentally grazed your arm. You were both miserable, but he still didn’t apologize, second opportunity to fix things passing by as soon as it had come.

The next morning, you woke up later than you meant to and couldn’t avoid Tom waking up next to you, making inevitable eye contact as you’d naturally shuffled closer together in your sleep, like your bodies were ready for a closure your minds weren’t ready to come to.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

Your phone buzzed and you made the mistake of checking it. More and more notifications poured in from friends asking if you and Tom were still together, “who this costar bitch thought she was”, seeing how you were handling it. You realized still nothing had been done about it, and the same nasty feelings from the day before resurfaced anew. Tom saw your face drop and rolled onto his back, pretending to be interested in the ceiling.

“Plans today?” he asked.

“Just doing damage control and convincing infinite circles of friends that I’m not suddenly single and in a downward spiral behind closed doors,” you responded, sounding harsher than you meant to.

He put his hands over his face. “If they really were your friends they wouldn’t have to ask,” he said bluntly. Your belly filled with a dull fire.

“Is that really the angle you’re gonna take right now?” you said, trying to ignore the tears preemptively pinpricking the corners of your eyes. Tom realized he had played the asshole card when he turned to see your face painted with hurt, and again, tried to spit out the words that he was sorry. But he didn’t, and his third chance flew out the open window. You shivered at the draft, and Tom went to instinctively wrap his arms around you, but stopped himself when you looked at him puzzled, as he couldn’t handle doing really anything when he saw how gray your eyes looked.

“y/n, I think this has gotten-“

“Save it,” you said, swiftly getting out of bed. You didn’t care to be insulted another time before 9 am, or feel your attachment to the love of your life sever a little more before you’d even brewed your coffee. You threw on the first thing you found, tied your hair up, grabbed your bag and then your keys.

“I’ll see you before the interview later.”

Truthfully, Tom’s talk show interview tonight was hours and hours away, but you wanted to avoid another emotional hit from him as long as possible.

Tom felt his chest sink as he heard the lock click after you. Why couldn’t he just apologize? Was it that hard? Sure, he didn’t agree with you. The tabloids always blew any gossip they could create out of proportion, turning every friendly hug between friends into a lover’s affair. But addressing it to the public only ever just fanned the fire. He didn’t want to give in to the pressure, but could see how it was starting to break you.

You walked into your flat with barely enough time to get ready after a long, tiring day of thinking and overthinking, wanting nothing more than to come home and be with your best friend, to cry to him about your problems and let him kiss and cuddle the pain away. Never before had he actually been the problem, though. That was uncharted territory, and you were afraid to see him tonight and face either inevitable fighting or excruciating silence. You met at the car and got in wordlessly. Only once you’d pulled onto the highway did Tom decide to speak.

“I think we need to talk about what’s been going on, yeah?”

“I guess so.”

“I just want you to understand that my not saying anything publicly doesn’t mean I’m not denying the rumors being spread. Staying silent is taking a stand, in a way.”

“In a way,” you said quietly. You really didn’t want to ruin your makeup before the show and hoped staying soft would keep the emotional floodgates from breaking open.

“I’m trying not to add fuel to the fire, love,” he said, placing a hand on your thigh. You stared down at that hand you loved and didn’t respond.

“I feel like I have no dignity left.”

He exhaled and frowned.

“Do you know what people are saying about me?” you squeaked without meaning to.

“I’ve told you to stop reading all those articles.”

“Right, because that’s the problem.” You rolled your eyes and moved your leg away from under his hand. He awkwardly placed it on the gear shift and didn’t dare to look at you for fear of breaking down himself.

“I just wish you’d stand up for me.”

“I’m doing it in my own way,” he trailed off. But that wasn’t good enough for you.

“And you can’t see that maybe that’s not enough?”

“I-“ He was about to say sorry — you could’ve sworn you hear the first syllable. But a car in front changed lanes and cut him off.

“Fucker.”

After that wise remark, silence. Fourth chance to apologize up in smoke. You looked out the window and said nothing until you pulled up to the studio entrance. You saw lines of flashing bulbs of cameras, news trucks and reporters. Why did everything have to be such a thing? Tom cleared his throat and turned to you.

“y/n, love, go ahead and get out here and I’ll meet you inside.”

You looked back at Tom blankly.

“We’re not going in together?”

“I don’t want to subject us to all the paps out there,” he said, refusing to make eye contact. “If you go alone, my security team can cover you. They can’t cover us both.”

Your whole body felt cold. “Are...are you serious?”

It looked like telling you to face the crowd without him was the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. So why was he doing it?

“I’ll meet you inside-“

You cut him off by loudly undoing your seatbelt and putting your heels on, shooting daggers at him the whole time.

“I should’ve stayed home.” You opened the car door and got out.

“y/n, I’m-” You slammed the door shut before you could hear the rest of his words. Five chances he had to make it right, five times he absolutely blew it. You weren’t sure this was something you even wanted anymore. How could you clearly mean so little to him when he was your everything?

“...and give it up for Tom Holland!” the audience cheered wildly at the sight of your boyfriend walking out on stage, shaking the host’s hand and waving with a bright-eyed and cheery smile at the crowd. You’d chosen a smart seat in the back so as to hide from anyone who might recognize you — you were not in the mood to socialize, and frankly, if Tom didn’t currently have the only set of car keys, you would’ve driven yourself home. You could see him scanning the audience until his eyes landed on you, and you stared at him with an expression completely unfeeling, blinking slowly until he turned away.

He continued to woo the host and the crowd with his heartfelt answers and funny anecdotes, but even you were immune to his charm tonight. You felt detached, alone. You wondered how you’d spent so long with this boy who had no respect for you or how you felt.

“So, not to put you on the spot, but-”

“Uh oh,” Tom laughed, the audience along with him.

“No, no, bear with me,” the host chuckled. “I’m sure you’re no stranger to all the rumors going around about this relationship you’ve gotten into with your costar in the new Spiderman movie coming out next year, can you give us any inside scoop on that?”

Tom shuffled in his chair looking uneasy, running a hand through his already messy hair, a telltale sign that he was nervous. You hated how well you knew him.

“I mean, I don’t like to give into all the gossip,” he said, trying to play it off. “But if you want to talk about the movie-”

“We will, we will! But you know what we all really care about...” the host laughed, pushing Tom to keep talking.

“Look, we’ve all grown close on set, like a little family. And I can’t believe I even have to say this, but no, I’m not an item with any one of my costars, or fellow actors, or anyone famous for that matter,” his face started to splotch pink, and you sat up in your seat. What was he doing?

“Well sorry to pry-” the host started, but Tom kept talking, now faster, lips not able to keep up with his brain.

“The amount of stress all the rumors have put on me and the people I care about is insane and unfair, and nobody has taken it harder than my actual girlfriend, who is right there in the audience,” he said, and you cursed him for causing a hundred chairs to squeak as heads swiveled towards you. “It all has her constantly feeling hated and unimportant and questioning our relationship, which I can’t stand, because I love her more than anything, I do, and I hate to see her so upset when there’s just nothing I can do about people gossiping.” You hear scattered “aww”s come from around you.

“I’ve been quiet for too long about it, which I thought was the right thing to do. But I was wrong. She deserves to hear me tell the world that I am with her, and only her, and that’s not changing,” he says, finally taking a breath. Tom looks at you, eyes watery, and sighs, as the audience coos and applauds. He mouths a clear “I’m sorry” that only you see, and you feel that cold draft start to melt, letting yourself give him a small smile in return. He finishes the interview and you meet him backstage at the end.

When he sees you walking towards him, Tom picks up speed and pulls you into a hug immediately, both arms underneath yours, almost picking you up off the ground. You hate to admit it, but it feels so good to be back where you rightfully belong. You lean into his body and hug him back. He kisses your cheek and rests his face against yours. “You know how much I love you, right?”

“I know. You finally apologized.”

“I know.”

“Took you long enough.”

He pulled back and smiled at you, leaning in and kissing you softly. He cupped your face with both of his hands and wiped away a small tear that was harbored between your eyelashes.

“I’ll go on a million more talk shows and do it again if it means you’ll forgive me.”

“That’s a start,” you both giggle and he kisses you again. “Can we go home?”

“Of course, love.”

#hrficbingo1k #hollandsrecs #tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland imagines #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland one shot #tom holland one shots #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland blurbs

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georgeswand · 3 years

Text

light that never goes out | george weasley

george weasley x reader

SFW, fluff, slight mentions of death

inspired by the song ‘there is a light that never goes out’ by the smiths

it was a dark, damp night and the stars sparkled brightly behind the thick of the clouds. you were staying at the burrow for the holidays, rooming with ginny and hermione. you were the oldest among them, being a year above hermione and two years above ginny. being the eldest, you decided the younger two should be able to sleep in the bed together. bad idea. the floor was wooden, hard, and cold. although there was a knitted duvet mrs. weasley had made that you lied on, there was still no support and your shoulders ached.

despite the pain, you sucked it up and closed your eyes. you could hear the faint breathing and snores of the two younger ones in the room with you, “at least they’re sleeping well” you thought, feeling a bit envious. after a few minutes of not being able to fall asleep, you opened your eyes and took a deep breath. you couldn’t sleep. with a mix of the cold, rock-hard floor on your back and the long minutes you waited with your eyes closed attempting to fall asleep, you decided to get up and go use the restroom.

you put on an oversized, grey jumper over your white t-shirt and fixed your blue, cotton pyjama bottoms. you took quiet steps towards the door, luckily you wore socks so your feet wouldn’t be directly touching the freezing cold floor. you took hold of the door handle and gently turned it, slowing pushing the door forwards, making sure its hinges wouldn’t squeak. you quietly walked through the doorway and slowly closed the door behind you, gently letting go of the doorknob. a bit more relaxed now that you’ve gotten past the hard part of not waking anyone up, you walked down the stairs to the bathroom doing your best to prevent the floorboards from creaking or yourself from tripping due to the lack of light.

once you reached the door to the bathroom, you noticed a light was beaming from the gap under the door. you sighed and lightly knocked on the door, a voice from the other side whisper-shouted, “i’m in here!”

“george?” you whisper-shouted back through the door, you’ve heard his voice so many times, you knew it had to be him. “no, dearie, this is molly weasley!” a now high-pitched, squeaky voice spoke through the door. he had raised his voice an octave higher to create a poor impersonation of his mother. you smiled to yourself, “i don’t think your mother sounds like that.” you heard him chuckle through the door. you then heard water running for a few seconds and moments later the door opened. george was standing there looking down at you, his shadow casted over you since the lantern in the bathroom was the only source of light.

“are you going to move?” you inquired, feeling a bit awkward under george’s gaze. “what’s the magic word?” george taunted, leaning against the doorframe.

“i dunno, abracadabra? now move out of my way-” you lightly shoved him out of the bathroom and turned around to look at him, he was now standing in the dark hallway. “leave or else i’m going to think you’re listening to me piss,” you jokingly remarked. instead of walking away, he cupped his hand behind his ear, leaning into the door. you scoffed and closed the door, locking it before you went to the toilet. you use the toilet and washed your hands, then adjusted your clothes in the mirror. you looked at the candle in the lantern by the door and extinguished it by pinching the flame with your thumb and pointer finger. though it was dark, the moonlight from a nearby window gave you just enough light to be able to see where you were walking. you opened the door, walking through it, and closing it behind you.

you looked up and down the narrow staircase, no one to be seen, including george. you turned and made your way up the staircase, careful to not make too much noise. you were a few steps from ginny’s bedroom door when someone suddenly whispered behind you, “y/n-”. startled, you jumped and turned around, seeing george’s moonlit face grinning behind you. you gently hit his chest and angrily whispered, “god- george! you scared me, what if i had yelled?” he smiled, struggling to hold back his laughter. “you should’ve seen your face! you looked like you were about to cast a curse onto me-”

“well if you do that again i just may.” you threatened, looking up at him. you ran your fingers through your hair and composed yourself. “what did you want, shouldn’t you be back in your room?” you asked confused.

“well i couldn’t sleep,” he explained, “and fred fell asleep a while ago and ron and harry are playing a game of wizard’s chess which is quite boring-”

“so how does that have anything to do with me” you interrupted. “let me finish,” he continued, “what was i saying? oh- ron and harry are playing wizard’s chess which is boring so i thought we could go somewhere.”

“go somewhere?” you exclaimed bewilderedly. “where would we even go? it’s almost midnight and-”

“and that’s the fun of it! it’s late at night, we’re just a couple of teens breaking a couple rules, what’s the harm in that?” he rhetorically asked, his eyes gleaming with youth. he took both of your hands and waved them around eagerly, hoping you would agree to go out. you never said no to a good adventure, you loved sneaking out at night and letting yourself live a little. it gave you a sense of freedom and an escape from reality.

“fine.” you give in, george exclaimed a little ‘yes!’ in celebration of successfully persuading you, which doesn’t happen often. “we need to be back before the morning though, i don’t want your parents thinking we’re up to something bad. especially since we’re… together.” you said that last part reluctantly, he chuckled. “why are you being weird about saying we’re together? we’ve been together for a few months now.”

“i’m just saying!” you said defensively, “i just don’t want your parents to think we’re up to something weird.”

george shook his head and smiled at you, he took your hand and pulled you down the stairs. you followed behind him down the narrow stairway into the dark, moonlit living room. you and george put on some sneakers before heading outside. george had taken the car keys to his parent’s car and he kept them in one of the pockets of his black sweatpants. you finished tying the laces to your sneakers and stood up, following george outside of the house. you gently closed the front door behind you, following him to the sky blue ford that belonged to his parents which was parked on a dirt driveway. he clicked a button on the car keys which make the car beep and the lights flash momentarily. he opened the door to the driver’s seat as you got in the passenger’s side.

“do you know how to drive?” you asked, the thought hadn’t even come up in your mind until now. you’ve never seen george drive, nor has he ever mentioned doing so. he put the keys into the car and turned on the ignition switch, “of course, dad taught fred and i last year. haven’t really driven since then though, let’s see how much i remember.” he looked over to you and smiled, you watch as he switched the gear into drive and gripped onto the steering wheel.

he pushed his foot into the pedal and the vehicle had started moving, he maneuvered the car out of the driveway and onto the dirt road, driving straight ahead. you looked over at him, his orange hair was long, falling below the base of his neck. he wore a dark red sweater that, surprisingly, looked like his mom didn’t knit. you admired his side profile as he kept his focus on the road.

he had now reached a road which was paved and divided into lanes with white dashed lines. there were no other cars in sight, just you, george, and the road. you kept looking over at him unconsciously, admiring every feature of him. you could slightly see the moles on the right side of his neck which were partially covered by his hair. his nose arched in a way you thought was perfect, his lips were a pale pink and his freckles were so faint but you could still see them in the moonlight.

“i know i’m attractive, y/n, but you don’t have to stare.” george looked over at you as you quickly turned to face the road, blushing. he looked back onto the road, laughing at your reaction. embarrassed, you learned towards the door on the passenger’s side and looked out the window, trying to forget what had happened. from the corner of your eyes you saw george reach over to the car radio, he turned it on and upped the volume just enough the fill the silence. the music sounded fuzzy and cracked here and there since the car was ways away from a radio station and the signal was bad, but you could still make out the words.

“and if a double decker bus crashes into us,

to die by your side is such a heavenly way to die.”

george hummed along with the song, his left hand held the steering wheel steady while his right hand was on his thigh, tapping his fingers along with the beat of the song. he looked over to you and reached over the armrest that sat between the driver and passenger’s seat. he took hold of your hand and held it as he drove, you stopped looking over at the passenger’s window and you leaned back in your seat, looking down at your hand. you looked up toward’s the road and gave george’s hand a squeeze.

you two stayed that way as the song on the radio played, the lyrics resonated with you. if you could stay that way with george for the rest of your life, you would. it felt as though time stopped, though the both of you were moving at 60km/h, you felt this moment could have lasted forever, like a photo. this moment was a breath of fresh air, something away from the struggles in life. if you were to die right then and there, at least it would be with george.

“and if a ten ton truck kills the both of us,

to die by your side, well the pleasure, the privilege is mine.”

as the song played, you continued to embrace the moment. you had slightly lowered the windows on both you and george’s side, letting the cool breeze of the winter night rush in, sending shivers down your spine. the stars shone elegantly, witnessing this simple moment being shared between you two. you could hear the song coming to an end, after the final chorus, the song repeated the lyrics:

“there is a light that never goes out,

there is a light that never goes out...”

you hoped that as time went on and as you saw the next morning, or if you two had died right then and there, the light between you two would never go out.

#george weasley #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fluff #george weasely fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfic #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

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topsytervy · 3 years

Text

Good Night ~ Rafe Cameron

Ahaha I did a Part 3 to goodbye. It kind of got a little dicey at the end but it’s chill. You can read Part 1 here and Part 2 here.

Blurb: You and Rafe go out for some drinks and I don’t know what else to say.

Word Count: 3,323

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, grammar/spelling mistakes, I think that’s it

~~~~~~

Rafe smiled as he unlocked the door to his apartment and walked in, closing the door behind him as he placed his keys in the little dish on the counter.

He walked further into his apartment, taking off his coat and placing it on the back of a chair before walking down the hall to his bedroom to change into pajamas. He flopped down on his bed and stared at the ceiling as a smile crept onto his face.

He let out a breathy laugh as he ran his hands over his face as he thought about his day with you in the car. It was a dream come true to have alone time with you after all these years. All he wanted was 5 minutes with you and he got 8 hours instead.

His phone vibrated on his nightstand and he reached over, grabbing it and unlocking it before his grin grew.

My plans for tomorrow fell through and I don't work the day after, so drinks tomorrow night?

Rafe looked up towards his ceiling. "I'm starting to think you exist, big guy."

Yeah. I'll pick you up at 7?

I'll see you then.

Rafe set his phone back on the nightstand and positioned himself under the covers, closing his eyes as he thought about your conversation when he dropped you off.

Rafe held open the door to your apartment complex for you before walking in behind you.

"Thank you," you smiled as you began your journey up the stairs to your apartment.

Rafe stood at the bottom of the steps and pointed to the elevator. "Why are we not using the elevator?" He asked.

"I got stuck in one a few years back and I decided that I'm staying far away from those things for the rest of my life." You shrugged. Rafe chuckled lightly and took his first step up. You looked back at him with a grin. "Hope you plan on skipping leg day cause I'm up on floor six."

Rafe waved his hand, dismissing your sentence. "Please, this will be a cinch."

Halfway up, Rafe looked over at you as he heard the slight panting coming from you. His lips formed into a smirk as he spoke. "Are you okay over there?"

You nodded. "Peachy."

"Mhm,"

"What?"

"Oh, nothing." He shrugged.

You rolled your eyes as you two continued up the stairs, Rafe offering to carry you the rest of the way but you denied his offer.

Rafe watched as you brought your tired feet up the last step, opening the door that separated the stairwell from the hallway of apartment doors.

You led the way to your apartment door and pulled out your key, shoving it into the lock. "Thanks for letting me ride with you. It was way better than the ride with Kie, JJ, and Pope." You glanced at him as you turned the key.

"It's no problem. I enjoyed the company." Rafe leaned against the wall, praying his voice wouldn't waver at his next sentence. "So, you wanna go out tomorrow night? Hit the town or whatever?"

Even though he knew that you two were on alright terms now, after all the car ride was filled with catching up and bad karaoke, there was still a part of his mind that was nervous.

Nervous that you would tell him that, as fun as the last two days were, you couldn't see yourselves being more than civil acquaintances. Nervous that you'd say, 'yes, as long as the guy I've been seeing in secret for the past month can join us'. Nervous that you'd say 'let me check my schedule and I'll let you know’, but then ghost him.

Nervous that he would have to watch you walk out of his life again.

"I kind of already have a prior commitment to tomorrow," You told him before reaching into your bag and pulling out your phone, "but I'll let you know when I can squeeze in some time for you when I check my work schedule." You smiled as you extended your unlocked phone to Rafe.

"You promise?" Rafe asked as he hesitantly took your phone.

This was the beginning of one of his scenarios he created in his mind and not one of the ones that ended with you two saying 'I do'.

You shot Rafe a look. "Rafe, you and I both know that I wouldn't be looking this calm and collected if I was lying to you. I'd be a stuttering, panicking mess."

Rafe chuckled lightly at the truthful statement of your terrible lying as he began putting in his number under his name before texting himself a ‘hi’ so he'd have your number.

He handed your phone back to you with a grin. "To be fair, you were a stuttering, panicking mess when we first met, Y/N/N, and all you were saying was hello."

You blushed profusely at the memory of you being nervous as hell when you met Rafe for the first time and Rafe wanted nothing more than to wrap his arms around you and tease you about the sudden redness on your cheeks like he used to do whenever you blushed.

But instead, he just added, "Don't worry. You were a cute stuttering, panicking mess," before he walked back towards the stairwell.

As Rafe slipped off into dreamland, you stayed awake, waiting for your kettle to go off so you could make your tea.

You grabbed your phone and unlocked it, Rafe’s contact staring back at you. You clicked edit and erased his name before typing out his new name.

Bub

You smiled slightly at the familiar nickname from years ago and hit save before opening Spotify. You went to click on your liked songs before remembering something from the car ride with Rafe and went to the search bar, typing in Rafe’s Spotify name that you still had memorized.

"You're music is so fucking basic, Rafe." You laughed as you once again listened to some random pop song that you had already heard way too many times on the radio.

Rafe shook his head. “My music is not basic. I just have different playlists with different genres. It’s called being organized Y/L/N.” He answered with a grin.

“Really?” You raised an eyebrow,

Rafe nodded. “Mhm. If I’m in the mood for rap, I have my rap playlist. If I want alternative, I have my alternative playlist. And so on.”

“Mind if I look through and choose one?” You asked.

Rafe grabbed his phone from his hoodie pocket and unlocked it with his fingerprint before handing it over to you. You found Spotify and clicked it open, going to his playlists. You were going to click on his alternative playlist but another one caught your eye.

My Girl’s Favorites.

You glanced over at Rafe.

“My girl’s favorites?”

“Hmm?” He glanced over at you and you turned the screen to him. “Oh. Guess I never deleted that one.”

“Oh. You want me to delete it for you so you don’t have to remember her?” You clicked on the playlist and went to click on the three dots but Rafe spoke up.

“No!” His hand reached out and he placed a hand on your forearm to stop you. You turned to look at him and moved your finger away from the dots. “That’s… that’s your playlist. It’s probably a little outdated considering it’s been five years but… yeah. That should be all your favorites from when you were 16.” He admitted, glancing out his window before turning his attention back to the road ahead of him.

You bit your lip before clicking play on the playlist, gasping when Mr.Brightside came on first.

Rafe looked over at you and smiled as you immediately went to turn up the volume before beginning to yell the lyrics as you scrolled through all the songs that were apparently your favorites back in high school.

“This is going to be one hell of a trip down memory lane.” You commented as your eyes widened at some of the songs that you had forgotten about.

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. You’re in for a treat.” You glanced at him and you saw his cheeks redden slightly. “I have, on occasion, listened to it.”

You smiled and thought about Rafe listening to all of your old favorites while he was alone. If you were being honest, you still had a playlist of Rafe’s favorites that you found yourself putting on from time to time.

You smiled as you found the playlist of your high school favorites and clicked on it, playing the music that brought back so many memories. The kettle began to whistle and you quickly turned off the heat and removed it from the burner, pouring the water into your mug that already had a teabag in it.

You grabbed your phone and your tea, heading off into your bedroom so you could begin your nightly hour of coloring to help you unwind before bed.

******

When you and Rafe pulled up at the club at 8 the next night, you got out of the car, shivering slightly in the cold breeze s you waited for Rafe. Once out, he held out his fist.

“Rack, paper, scissors for designated driver?”

You waved him off. “I’ll be DD.” You told him and Rafe had a look of confusion on his face.

“Really? That easy?”

You shrugged. “I’m used to being DD. I almost always am with the pogues.” You went to grab his keys but he pulled them away.

“Y/N, when’s the last time you got shit-faced?” He asked.

When you didn’t answer, Rafe pocketed his keys. "I’ll be DD tonight. You, my dear, are going to drink to your heart’s content.”

You ignored the slight flutter your heart did at my dear and went for his pocket to grab his keys. “Seriously, Rafe. It’s not that big of a deal. I don’t want to ruin your fun of getting wasted.”

Rafe grabbed your wrists gently and pushed you away from his body with a small laugh. “I find the thought of you getting wasted way more entertaining.” You shot him a look and he turned you around, pushing you to the back of the small line. “Think of this as your opportunity to let loose and have some fun.”

You rolled your eyes before walking to the back of the line with Rafe behind you.

Two hours had passed since you two entered the club, sitting next to Rafe in a booth in the corner after you two had spent the last twenty minutes dancing. Rafe had two beers the whole night and you… well, Rafe would say you were closer to the shit-faced side of the scale from what he could tell.

Rafe looked over at you and saw you yawn before picking up your drink and placing the straw in your mouth. Well, attempt to. You missed your mouth a couple of times.

"Alright, sweetheart. I think that is our cue to get you home." He told you, finishing off the beer he'd been nursing for the past 45 minutes.

You whined and grabbed his bicep with your hands. "Rafe, I'm not tired." You finally managed to get the straw into your mouth.

"Oh yeah? That yawn says otherwise. Stay here while I close the tab." He slipped out of the booth and walked over to the bar.

After getting the bartender's attention and letting him know he was closing the tab, he glanced over at you, smiling as he watched you finish off your drink. He narrowed his eyes as he saw a dude slide into the booth next to you, a smile on his face as he reached over and touched your hand, saying something. Rafe watched you take the straw out of your mouth and respond with a shake of your head as you slowly slid out of your seat, placing your glass on the table as you said something back to him.

Rafe looked back at the bartender who tapped his shoulder and took his card back with a thanks before making his way back to you quickly.

"Rafe!" You cheered, throwing your arms around his neck.

Throughout the night, he noticed how with each drink you got touchier and more affectionate. Not that he minded, of course, but the sudden movement took him off guard for a second before he slid his arms around your waist to keep you from tipping over.

Okay, half to keep you from tipping over, half because he wanted to.

But, you know, tomato, tomato.

"Hey, Ready to go?" He grinned, his eyes shifting from you to the guy who was now standing behind you.

You nodded your head and you took your arms from his neck, heading towards the door as Rafe’s hand found its home on the small of your back. Rafe led you outside and to his car, opening the passenger door for you. The sleepiness seemed to finally be hitting you now that you were away from the crowd and loud music, the quiet night taking over instead as you yawned once more. Rafe opened the door for you and you whispered a quick thanks before climbing in.

“Can you buckle yourself in?”

You nodded as you reached for the seatbelt. "Tonight was fun Rafe." You told him quietly as he watched you struggle to grab it.

Rafe smiled. "Yeah, it was." He grabbed the seatbelt and handed it to you, causing you to smile back and click it into place as he shut your door.

He walked over to the driver’s side and slid into the seat, shoving the key into the ignition before turning it and starting the car.

The ride was quiet except for the radio and when Rafe glanced over at you about halfway to your place, you were fast asleep, head resting against the window.

When he pulled up to your apartment building, he decided against waking you up, cause what kind of a gentleman would he be if he woke a princess from her slumber just so she had to walk up six flights of stairs while drunk to her apartment, and got out of the car.

He opened your door just enough to slip his hand inside and place his hand between your head and the window before opening the door all the way. He reached over your body and clicked the button to unlatch the seatbelt.

You stirred slightly as you groaned and Rafe looked at you the seatbelt retracted.

“It’s just me, Y/N.” He whispered, grabbing your wrists and throwing your arms around his neck.

You tightened your grip around his neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist, his hands going to the bottom of your thighs.

“Watch your head,” He told you as he pulled you out of the car.

You tucked your face into the crook of his neck as he shut the door, beginning the journey to your apartment.

You sniffed as Rafe started up the first flight of stairs, causing one of Rafe’s hands to go to your back, rubbing your back softly.

“You okay?”

“No.”

Rafe’s face fell at your answer. “Why?”

“Because I lied to you.” You murmured into his neck.

“Oh?”

“I never got stuck in the elevator. I made that up so I could spend a few more minutes with you.” You murmured into his neck.

Rafe felt a smile creep onto his face. “Yeah?”

He felt you nod and he chuckled. “You could’ve just invited me in for tea or something, you know?”

“My plans didn’t fall through either. I canceled them. It was a tinder date but you’re way more interesting than that guy.”

“Oh really?" He smirked, his ego slightly boosted over the fact that you chose him over some random guy.

"Mhm. I blocked him too."

"That’s nice, Y/N/N." His smirk turning into a grin. "Are you gonna delete the app entirely?"

You shrugged. "Maybe." You sighed, one of your hands beginning to play with his hair.

The rest of the trip upstairs was quiet, Rafe hoping you didn’t fall back asleep when he came face to face with your door.

"Where are your keys?" He whispered, just in case you had actually fallen asleep.

You dug into your bag and grabbed the keys, handing them to the man without taking your face from his neck.

You kissed his cheek as he unlocked your door and opened it before setting you down.

"Do you wanna stay? It's late and I don't think you should drive anymore." You stared at him.

Rafe shoved his hands into the pockets. "Uh...yeah. Sure. Someone's gotta take care of you, right?"

You smiled as you grabbed his arm and dragged him inside, closing the door behind him. You lead him into your room and handed him a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants you never got around to returning to him before directing him to the bathroom.

You climbed into bed after getting dressed and Rafe came back into your bedroom, placing a bucket on your side of the bed.

"Just in case you have to throw up during the night." He told you, knowing you rarely ever made it to the bathroom.

You once threw up in an empty cooler once cause you couldn't make it to the trash can that was 5 feet away but that’s a different story.

You smiled and he turned to walk away but you grabbed his wrist. He turned to look at you and you opened your arms. "Come cuddle with me?"

Rafe smiled. "Are you sure?"

You pouted at him and patted the spot next to you. Rafe climbed into your bed, opening his arms and you rolled into his side, your head resting on his chest.

"I missed this a lot." You sighed, inhaling his scent.

"Me too, Y/N. Me too." Rafe kissed the top of your head.

You looked up at him before placing your lips on his softly. Rafe smiled as he kissed you back before pulling away after a couple of seconds.

"Go to sleep now. We'll talk in the morning." He whispered, his thumb rubbing circles on your side.

"Okay, but Rafe, you should know something else I lied about." Rafe looked down at you, waiting for what you were about to say. "I'm not that drunk." You shrugged, a small smile on your face.

Rafe stared at you. "I carried you up the stairs for no reason? Six fights of stairs when I could've taken the elevator or you could've walked them yourself?" Rafe shook his head. “Did you use the five years to work on your lying?”

You let out a small laugh at his words. "You should've known I'm not a lightweight. I mean, JJ is one of my best friends. We didn’t even have that many drinks tonight."

Rafe shook his head at you again with a tsk. "I know your mom didn't raise you as a liar. I'm going to have to call her and tell her her daughter has been lying to me."

"But it was to spend more time with you." You grinned as you took your finger and booped his nose.

He took an arm from your waist and grabbed your wrist gently, kissing your hand. "I mean, I guess I can forgive you if that’s your reason." He smiled.

"That is my reason." You giggled.

Rafe squeezed your side. "Then I guess you're forgiven then, sweetheart."

You threw your leg over his and closed your eyes, your arm resting across his abdomen. "That’s good to know. I can go to sleep now without worrying about you being mad at me." You hummed. "Goodnight, bubs."

Rafe grinned, kissing the top of your head once more before closing his own eyes. "Goodnight, baby."

~~~~~~~

#rafe x reader #rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #outerbanks rafe #rafe obx

56 notes · View notes

wheresmynaya · 3 years

Text

Lost in the Lights Ch.18|Brittana

A/N - Just a little something that yall might find some comfort in today so I’ve written a short epilogue. I’m not usually one for fluff, but I figured we might need it. I’ve always considered writing as something I can do to uphold Naya’s legacy because Santana is apart of that legacy and here, she’s always living her best life.

Thinking of you all today 💙

Available on ff.net (x) ao3 (x) & under the cut!

Once again, Brittany finds herself standing alone in her bedroom surrounded by boxes. It’s a little weird seeing her room looking so bare, but this move doesn’t drudge up the same kind of mournful feelings the last one did. This time there’s excitement, there’s anticipation, there’s –

“Hey B,” Santana gives a little tap at Brittany’s bedroom door. “Need a hand?”

Brittany turns to find Santana giving her that same soft grin she has come to adore. She’s leaned against the door frame, clad in her jean cut-offs and a plain t-shirt, and Brittany’s never been so enamored.

“What?” Santana’s grin widens.

Brittany smirks, “Can’t I check out my hot girlfriend?”

Santana rolls her eyes although her cheeks flush, “Smooth as ever.”

“You know it,” Brittany winks before she goes to zip her suitcase. “You’ll be happy to know that I’ve finally finished packing my room. It’s been a super productive afternoon.”

Santana sputters out a laugh as she glances around Brittany’s bedroom. The walls are bare aside from a couple framed pictures Brittany couldn’t find it in herself to take down. The desk by the window is neat and tidy for once too, but what makes Santana stop are the two gold crowns hanging off of one of Brittany’s football trophies.

“Not taking these?”

Brittany turns to find Santana pulling one off and putting it on. She looks just as regal as she did on Prom night and it makes Brittany’s heart feel so full. She can’t help but reminisce at how beautiful Santana looked all done up – she really took her breath away that night.

“You’d love that, wouldn’t you?” Brittany teases, “Too bad Quinn will be at Yale. I’m sure she’s going to miss the constant reminder that we won instead of her and Mike.”

“I can still text her,” Santana quips as she takes off the crown and sets it down where she found it. She goes back to looking around the room again, “It doesn’t look like you in here anymore.”

“Yeah,” Brittany sighs as she looks around too. Her eyes settle on Santana and she begins to grin, “But it’ll be so much fun decorating our own place together. It’ll look like the both of us.”

“True,” Santana grins, “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither!”

“I can’t believe how fast the year went by,” Santana mentions, “It feels like just yesterday that I was jumping off swings with you.”

“You mean head-butting me?” Brittany jokes.

“That too,” Santana laughs, “And now we’re off to college…together.”

“Not just yet,” Brittany reminds her with a pat to her suitcase.

“That’s right,” Santana nods to it, “That everything?

Brittany looks down and smiles, “Yup!”

Santana eyes the lone bag warily, “You’re only bringing one?”

“We’re only going for two weeks,” Brittany replies with a giggle, “You’d be surprised how much I fit in here. Bikinis don’t take up that much space which is a plus.”

She looks to Santana again hoping to see a smile but instead she finds her worrying her bottom lip. It makes Brittany chuckle as she closes the distance between them. Once she’s close enough, her hands land on Santana’s hips.

“Don’t stress,” She tells her sweetly, “That defeats the purpose of a vacation.”

“I’m not stressed,” Santana shrugs, “I’m just wondering…if I packed a little too much now?”

Brittany only giggles before pressing a kiss to Santana’s lips.

“You’re cute,” She says.

Santana only sighs through her smile, “Can you tell I’m a little nervous?”

“A little?”

Santana pouts, “This is my first big road trip. I didn’t want to forget anything.”

Brittany wraps her arms around Santana, holding her close, “I’m sure you’ve got everything and if not we can always buy stuff. You know Florida does have a mall, right?”

Santana was a little hesitant about joining the Pierce Family on their vacation back down to Florida for Summer break because she didn’t want to intrude on their family time, she’s so considerate like that. Brittany couldn’t imagine spending two whole weeks without her though, even Pete and Whitney begged for Santana to go.

Plus, it was the perfect opportunity to show her around Brittany’s old stomping grounds and most importantly, take her to one of her favorite places. With all of that taken into consideration, Santana couldn’t find it in her to deny Brittany this. She also didn’t mind getting out of Lima for the Summer, beats tanning by the pool alone.

“Babe, this is going to be great,” Brittany says earnestly, “It’s going to be relaxing and we’ll get to spend so much time together doing all kinds of fun things. It’ll be exactly what we need before we have to leave for Columbus, because you know once we get there it’ll be all work. I’ll have to start football training again and you’ll have cheer conditioning.”

“You’re right. Ohio State doesn’t mess around,” Santana nods as she begins smiling again, “This’ll be great. I’ve never been on vacation like this before.”

“Neither,” Brittany grins before grabbing her suitcase again. “Let’s go. We’ve got a lot of road to cover.”

Brittany and Santana decide to drive Santana’s car down to Florida ahead of Whitney and Pete who are catching a flight a couple days later. They take several pit stops along the way, making sure to snap silly photos by all of the state line signs so Santana can text them to Maribel and Hector to keep them updated on their adventure so far.

It probably takes them twice as long to make the trip, but it’s well worth it when Brittany gets to watch Santana’s eyes brighten as they finally cross the Florida state line.

“It’s so much different than Lima,” Santana says as she stares out the window at all the passing palm trees, their fronds waving hello in the warm breeze as they drive by.

Brittany only glances over with this cheek-bunching grin before she’s back to concentrating on the road ahead.

A while later, they pull up to the rental Whitney organized and this time Brittany’s the one who’s in awe.

“No way!” She exclaims as she triple checks the address her mom gave.

“What is it?” Santana questions.

“I used to point this house out all the time when we lived here,” Brittany tells her, “Pete and I called it the Unicorn House because of the pink shutters and the baby blue door. We always thought it was so cool, the most colorful house on the beach. I had no idea it was a rental!”

Santana smiles, “Well let’s go check it out.”

Relieved to stretch their legs and really start their vacation in the sun, Santana and Brittany make quick work of unloading the car and moving everything inside. Just like Brittany figured, the inside of the house was just as cool as the outside. All modern fixtures, colorful artwork decorating the walls, but the real attention-grabber was the view.

“Wow,” They said in unison as they approached the back sliding doors that led out onto the terrace. It was nothing but white sand and clear blue water.

“Let’s open it,” Brittany says and goes to pull open the glass door. There’s a light breeze and the scent of saltwater. Brittany smiles into it; she can’t believe how much she’s missed this.

Lima’s been great to her, it’s the place she met the most perfect girl ever, but this place will always hold a special spot in her heart too. As she glances to her side at her girlfriend, her smile grows because now she gets to share it with her too.

“What do you say we make a quick run to the shops so we can have breakfast out there?” Brittany suggest with a grin, “We can unpack and stuff later.”

“Sounds awesome,” Santana replies, “When’s your mom and Pete flying in again?”

“Tomorrow afternoon,” Brittany says as she gives a little tug at Santana’s shirt, “We’ve got the whole place to ourselves until then.”

Santana’s grin widens, “Even better.”

They decide to load up on fresh fruit, because after so many hours of fast food and gas station snacks they are dying for something healthy. Together they walk the aisles hand in hand, stopping every so often to add something to the basket Brittany carries.

It’s not their first trip to the store together, but it feels different this time knowing that it’s just them. Everyone they know is back in Lima, so doing something like grocery shopping together in Florida makes them feel so grown up and independent.

For a second, Brittany wonders if this is what it’ll feel like once they move away together for college. She’s sure the novelty of it all is bound to wear off the more they do it, but for now she leans into the excitement of it. The thought makes her feel giddy inside because she can’t picture herself doing such a routine thing with anyone other than Santana.

“Should we get anything else?” Santana wonders after adding a punnet of blueberries to the basket.

Brittany looks at their haul so far and shakes her head, “Nah. We can just order take out later if we want?”

Santana nods and they make their way to the check out lane.

Back at the rental, Santana’s in the kitchen getting all of their fruits washed and cut up when Brittany reappears clad in her bright pink bikini.

“Okay! Your turn,” She calls out as she makes her way into the kitchen.

Santana does a quick glance up to reply then does a double take when she sees what Brittany has on. Her jaw drops at the sight and she nearly cuts off a finger!

“Woah,” Santana says in time as her eyes rake up Brittany’s tone figure, “I was not prepared.”

“Should I put on a shirt?” Brittany jokes.

“No, no,” Santana’s quick to respond, “No shirts. You can stay just like that.”

Brittany blushes as Santana continues checking her out. It makes her feel warm all over and a little confident too because usually Santana’s the one getting her worked up. It’s a nice change when the tables are turned.

“So, you want to go change and I’ll finish here?” Brittany asks.

Santana’s still staring as Brittany comes closer. She doesn’t even blink until Brittany’s tapping at the bottom of her chin with this smug grin on her face.

“Hmm?” She hums, “What?”

“Do you want to go change now?”

Santana smirks as she pulls Brittany in and pins her against the counter, “It’s not really the first thing on my mind right now.”

“Oh?” Brittany’s grin turns devilish.

Santana bites her bottom lip as she plays with the knot at Brittany’s hip. “The extra football training you’ve been doing is really paying off. Like I’ve always thought you were the hottest girl to ever walk the surface of the Earth, but damn.”

“Go change,” Brittany tells her with a giggle. “We’ll never get to the beach at this rate.”

“Fine by me,” Santana teases as she wraps her arms around Brittany’s waist and starts littering her neck with soft kisses. “Like so fine by me.”

Brittany struggles because having Santana’s lips on her is always kind of like kryptonite, but her desire to experience Santana’s first trip to the beach outweighs spending the rest of the morning wrapped up in bedsheets. Call her crazy, but they’ve got all day to mess around meanwhile the sun’s only out for so long.

“Baby, as good as this feels,” Brittany sighs as she pulls away. She stares down at Santana lovingly, “I really want to take you to the beach first. Just you and me.”

Santana cutely pouts and it has Brittany giggling.

“Come on,” She says with a little pinch at Santana’s side, “I think it’ll be worth it.”

“I think it opens up lots of opportunities to be a tease,” Santana complains jokingly.

“Good thing we won’t be far from here then,” Brittany winks in return.

Once Santana finally got changed, she met Brittany back in the kitchen where the blonde had packed a bag with their breakfast and a couple bottles of water along with their beach towels. Brittany had her sunglasses sitting atop her head, her long blonde hair free from its messy bun from earlier.

“Ready?” She asked excitedly.

Santana only grinned as she reached for Brittany’s hand to hold and together they made their way down the wooden terrace steps until their bare feet met warm sand. Brittany was already headed for the coastline, but Santana stopping held her back. She turned, wondering if Santana forgot something, when she realized it wasn’t that at all.

Santana never felt the feeling of sand between her toes before.

A smile formed on Brittany’s face as she watched Santana wiggle her toes. It was only for a moment, a little excited squeak of a giggle escaping the brunette before she looked up again – ready to go. Brittany only wrapped her arm around Santana’s shoulders, kissing the top of her head as they started to walk again.

Picking the perfect spot was always something Brittany took pretty seriously, but on this section of the beach – any spot was perfect. They were just far enough away from the popular areas so it wasn’t too crowded where they were.

“I’ve never seen water so blue,” Santana admires as she stares at the crashing waves. “Beats the lake in Lima.”

“Definitely,” Brittany chuckles.

They end up laying out their blanket a few yards away from the water so they don’t have to walk very far to get in. While Santana smooths out the blanket, Brittany sets down their bag and starts to pull out their towels and breakfast.

Together, they sit side by side and share from one bowl Santana found in the kitchen. It’s a mix of all the fruit they picked up earlier and with their feet in the sand and the sound of the waves and seagulls in the distance they’ve never felt so at peace.

“Is it true that you have to wait thirty minutes after eating before you can swim?” Brittany wonders aloud. She’s resting back on her elbows, her legs outstretched but she’s still too far away to touch the water.

Santana shrugs, “I have no idea. Probably should though just to be safe.”

“True,” Brittany grins as Santana lies back too.

She’s already starting to tan and Brittany can’t take her eyes off of her. It’s almost like this is too good to be true and she finds herself reaching out to touch just to make sure.

Once their thirty minutes are up, Brittany’s on her feet trying to coax Santana into the water but who knew she’d put up such a fight?

“We didn’t come all this way to just sit in the sand,” Brittany teases as she tugs on Santana’s hand, “Come on.”

“That water is about to be cold as hell. No thank you!”

“Hell isn’t cold, Santana.”

“You know what I mean,” Santana then gets up when she finally breaks out of Brittany’s hold, “Now way I’m getting in.”

“But it’s not even cold,” Brittany replies although she’s not really sure since she hasn’t tested it for herself. “Why are you picking right now to play hard to get?”

“You haven’t seen nothing yet!” Santana jokes before taking off.

Brittany laughs the whole time as Santana ducks and dodges her advances until Brittany’s speed finally does her in. Soon she’s got Santana cradled in her arms bridal-style, carrying her towards the water like she weighs nothing.

“Britt! Brittany! Don’t you dare!” Santana chastises between laughs, “I don’t want to get my hair wet!”

Brittany only stomps her way through the water, “Who goes to the beach and doesn’t want to get their hair wet? That’s silly, San!”

“Me, that��s who!” Santana giggles but she stops putting up a fight and just wraps her arms around Brittany’s shoulders.

Their faces are so close with the way Brittany holds her that their noses brush when the blonde suddenly looks to her. Really, she’s checking if Santana’s actually being serious because if so then she’ll happily take her back to shore but if not it’s fair game. Instead though, she gets sidetracked by the brilliant smile she wears and how beautiful she looks with her hair down.

“I won’t get you wet if that’s really what you want,” Brittany says innocently but there’s a mischievous glint in her eye too.

She’s standing still waist-deep in the water and Santana’s butt is barely touching the surface. Brittany does her best to hop so that the incoming waves don’t splash her which is pretty nice of her with all things considered. She could totally be that person and drop her without a second thought.

“Well, when you say it like that…” Santana starts to smirk.

Brittany lets out a laugh before she leans in for a kiss.

It was meant to be a distraction, but it ended up way steamier than she intended as she slowly sank to her knee so that they both dipped below the surface. She could feel Santana’s teeth sink into her bottom lip from the initial shock of the water temperature but then it was soothed by her tongue gliding over the nip.

“See?” Brittany teases, “Not that cold.”

Santana only rolls her eyes as Brittany adjusts her hold. She goes from cradling Santana to having her straddle her lap instead. It’s a much riskier position than before, but neither of them complain.

As they get acclimated to the water, they slowly move from kissing to playfully splashing at each other as they wade around. They go back and forth like that for awhile until they move back to the shore to get their tan on.

“I’m having slight regrets that we’ll be going to school in Ohio,” Santana mentions awhile later as they lie on their stomachs, “Must be nice living close to a beach.”

Brittany grins, “So you’re liking your first trip then?”

“Baby, I love it,” Santana replies happily and leans over to kiss her cheek, “And I love you.”

“I love you too,” Brittany coos before she gets to thinking, “If you love it that much we can always transfer down here? I’m pretty sure there’s a few schools here that would love to poach me. You too.”

“So tempting,” Santana chuckles.

They lie like that for awhile longer before the sun gets to be a little much and they head back to the rental.

It’s one of Brittany’s favorite feelings, that tiredness after spending the day at the beach, and she coaxes Santana into the shower with her to get rid of all the sand and saltwater. Despite finally getting each other this close without any barriers between them, they’re both too tired to actually make any moves.

Instead, they take turns standing underneath the cool water and washing off any residual sand.

Afterwards, they slip into something loose and tumble into bed with a yawn. They don’t even bother getting under the sheets first, their sun-kissed skin still warm from the shower. The just cuddle up to one another and doze off within minutes.

Hours later, Brittany awakes to Santana tracing her finger along the bridge of her nose. She blinks away the last bit of sleepiness and looks around the room, surprised to see it drenched in hues of orange and gold from the setting sun.

“I think you might’ve gotten sunburnt,” Santana mentions softly, “Your cheeks are a little pink.”

Brittany touches them bashfully, “Yeah. They do that after I’m out too long. Doesn’t hurt though, I put on sunscreen before.”

“Okay,” Santana smiles as her hand moves to rest on Brittany’s hip.

The blonde looks to the window, “What time is it?”

“Almost eight.”

“Shit,” Brittany curses, “I didn’t meant to sleep for that long.”

“It’s okay. You were tired,” Santana replies as she starts circling Brittany’s hipbone, “Hungry?”

There’s a familiar rasp in Santana’s voice and it has Brittany leaning in ever so slightly. She knows that tone, she’s been quite familiar with it since the night she won a championship title with the Titans. It’s come to be a favorite of hers.

“Starving,” Brittany smirks.

Santana bites her lip, “Good.”

“We can order a pizza,” Brittany husks as she slips her thigh between Santana’s, “I know just the place. They’re notorious for taking way too long but the pizza manages to always be hot still.”

“Perfect,” Santana smirks before she’s closing the distance.

The next day, they have a bit of a sleep in due to their…activities carrying on pretty late into the night. Free house to themselves? Of course they couldn’t pass up the opportunity, but they’re well-rested and get up to do a tidy of the house before going to pick up Pete and Whitney from the airport.

Again, Brittany feels that same feeling from the day before when she and Santana were out shopping for breakfast. She can’t help but notice how easy it is for them to fall into such a domestic routine. It makes her feel so grown up, like it was just a couple weeks ago that she was graduating and sure she’s always been pretty independent but it’s different with Santana by her side.

When they get to the airport, they’re only waiting for a little while before Pete’s excitedly waving at them with Whitney trailing behind him. There’s hugs all around when they finally meet before they make their way to baggage claim.

“Did you have fun on the plane ride over?” Santana asks Pete.

“It was okay,” Pete shrugs, “Kind of bumpy but mom let me play games on her phone.”

“Nice,” Santana grins.

“Yup! Did you have fun driving here? Wait, did you guys go to the beach already?” Pete asks as he looks to his sister, “Britt’s cheeks are pink.”

Brittany’s eyes widen, “Uh…”

“We might’ve gone for a little bit,” Santana admits and watches Pete start to frown. He was pretty adamant about them waiting for him but Santana’s quick to recover, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t go again today! You’ll have to check with your mom first.”

Pete’s face fills with a mega-watt smile, so similar to Brittany’s it’s crazy.

“She’ll totally say yes,” He tells Santana, “Mom loves the beach too!”

“Sweet,” Santana grins.

“Alright, we just need to pick up the rental car and we’re out of here,” Whitney says as Brittany follows behind with Pete’s little suitcase.

“You didn’t have to rent a car,” Santana tells her, “I told you I was okay with sharing mine.”

“You’re too kind, honey,” Whitney smiles, “But I’m sure you girls will want to explore the area too.”

Santana just nods as Brittany comes up beside her, their fingers twining so casually.

“Speaking of rentals,” Brittany mentions, “I can’t believe you got the Unicorn House! It’s so cool.”

“We’re staying at the Unicorn House?” Pete asks eagerly. Brittany nods to him and he just about combusts, “No way! That’s the coolest house on the beach!”

“Totally,” Brittany winks, “It’s even cooler inside. Just you wait and see.”

They all head to the rental house and it takes everyone no time at all before they’re making their way out to the beach. Everyone except Whitney who runs to the store for snacks and something to eat for dinner because apparently they can’t have pizza two nights in a row despite Brittany and Pete’s protesting.

Again, it’s nice to just lounge in the sun and cool off in the water whenever they want. Pete’s here too while Whitney’s at the store and Santana watches adoringly as he and Brittany toss their favorite football back and forth.

“Babe! Come play with us,” Brittany calls out to her as she tosses the football to Pete in a perfect spiral.

“Yeah! Come play, Santana!” Pete chimes in.

“I’m fine getting my tan on from here,” Santana answers then starts to smirk at Brittany. The way her muscles tense whenever she throws the ball or how her arms flex, it leaves Santana’s mouth dry, “The view’s not so bad either.”

Brittany lets out a laugh as she readies for Pete to throw the ball back. She’d have to agree about the view though, hers isn’t so bad too with Santana laid out in her maroon bikini on their beach blanket, skin glistening with sweat. She swallows dryly as her thoughts start to wander to the night before.

“Britt!” Pete shouts, “Look out!”

Brittany looks up and catches the football just in time before she’s thumped in the head with it. Good thing her reflexes are as sharp as ever!

“Careful baby,” Santana smirks before she’s rolling onto her stomach to even out her tan.

Brittany only narrows her eyes playfully before she’s throwing another perfect spiral in Pete’s direction.

Once Whitney joins them, Pete goes from playing with Brittany to splashing in the shallow water with their mom. Brittany sits alongside Santana where they both share a bag of chips and watch Pete’s splashes get bigger and bigger.

“You’re so cute with him,” Santana mentions.

Brittany raises her brow, “Speak for yourself.”

Santana lets out a disbelieving laugh, “Right.”

“You are,” Brittany urges with a bump to Santana’s shoulder, “He loves spending time with you. Not as much as I do, of course.”

“Of course.”

“You ever wish you had a younger sibling?” Brittany wonders.

“God, no. Never,” Santana jokes before softening, “But seeing you two kind of makes me second guess it. Then again, Pete’s cool so you’re lucky.”

“True,” Brittany giggles. There’s another pause before Brittany speaks up again in a softer tone, “Thanks for coming out on this trip with us. I know you were a little iffy at first, but it wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Thanks for inviting me,” Santana replies with this smitten little grin on her face. “We should totally make this an annual thing.”

“Coming back here?”

“Yeah,” Santana nods, “It’s like our reset button. No matter how busy or crazy it gets wherever we are, we can always come back here and just – reset. It would be nice.”

Brittany starts to smile. Santana mentioning doing something every year means she anticipates them being together for a really long time which duh but making plans like that in advance makes it all feel a little more real. She always thought her strong feelings might’ve been a little exaggerated since they’re young and love always feels so all-encompassing, but then Santana goes and says something like that.

This love, it’s bigger than she thought. Maybe it’s even one of those forever kinds of love and that kind of thinking makes Brittany happier than ever.

“We can totally do that,” Brittany agrees before she leans in for a chaste kiss. She can feel Santana smiling too against her lips and she’s never felt more complete.

Whatever this upcoming year plans to throw their way, whether it be on the field or in the classroom or even at home, Brittany’s totally ready for it.

Because together, well…anything is still possible.

#Lost in the Lights #LITL #Brittana #Brittana fanfiction #fanfics

27 notes · View notes

anobscurename · 4 years

Text

ocean eyes – chris evans

previous part: PART X — masterlist

concept: you and chris attend a last minute vegas wedding of his close, personal friend. may contain a majority of the cast of the avengers. the slowest of slow burns. part eleven of many.

pairing: chris evans x reader

word count: 5,3k

warnings: angst, jealousy, really sappy romance shit

author's note: here's a long one to make up for the fact that i didn't upload all of yesterday :) this one really messed me up, please let me know what you think :)

Chris Evans wore rejection exceptionally well.

When he returned from New York, it was like nothing had happened, nothing had changed – and you didn't know how to feel about that. A big part of you was relieved that things had returned to normal almost instantaneously. But a small, dark part of you – hidden very well in the recesses of your mind – had wanted him to be as hurt as you still were.

But there he was, bursting into your room, smile on his face.

You hadn't woken up yet, but the sound of the door being flung open had you springing up and already had a pillow clutched in your hand, ready for an attack – which you received, but not from who you'd expect.

Dodger, hot on Chris' heels, leapt onto you with a happy yowl and began the vigorous task of slobbering the ever loving shit out of you. You attempted to push him away, fighting to get the pillow between you to prevent getting drenched by dog saliva. But you were sluggish and Dodger was not, easily manoeuvring around you to attack once more.

Fighting a fit of laughter, you peered around your pillow at Chris. He stood in the doorway, hands in pockets, grinning stupidly.

"Christopher, get your attack dog off of me!"

He chuckled. "Get out of bed!"

You groaned. "It's a Saturday, Chris. I'm allowed to sleep in."

"Not today. Come on, get up!" He clapped. "We have a big day ahead of us."

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "What's got you so chipper?"

"Two things," he said, making his way to you. He promptly threw the covers off of you, causing you to yelp and tuck your bare legs to your chest. "Hey, didn't we discuss more pants being worn around the house...?"

"Two. Things?" You ground out the prompt from behind grit teeth. Dodger pawed at your legs.

"One, I got the part."

You beamed, irritation dissipating. "That's great! I'm really proud of you, Evans."

He smiled briefly, before hollowing his cheeks and letting out a singular piercing whistle. You winced, but Dodger immediately stopped his antics and returned to Chris' side, bounding happily alongside him as they both moved to exit.

"And? What's the second thing?" You called out to him.

"Pack your things, wear something nice. We're going to Vegas, baby."

———————

"Vegas?!" You had immediately hopped out of bed at the very casual name drop. "As in Las Vegas?"

"Of course," Chris shrugged, pouring some freshly brewed coffee into his favourite mug. It was one he'd stolen from the set of Knives Out; you were well acquainted with it.

"May I ask why?"

"We're going to a wedding."

"A wedding?!" Your voice was shrill. You were becoming increasingly more annoyed with how non-chalant he was being, answering your questions with the bare minimum.

"Well, it's more of a renewal of vows. They've been married for a while."

"Can I ask who?"

"Oh, man," he groaned inwardly. "Why do you insist on ruining every single surprise? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Christopher."

"He's a good friend of mine, you may know him. It was a very spur-of-the-moment thing. You're my plus one, so please," he tossed you a discarded sweater you had left over the back of a nearby chair, "start packing. It's a four hour drive, maybe less if there's no traffic."

In a last ditch effort to let him know how crazy this all sounded, you gestured to Dodger, who was happily gnawing at his favourite toothmarked chew toy. "What about Dodge?"

"He's coming with us. Obviously."

And that was all he was willing to tell you. Your efforts to pry more information was met with hums and long, eye contact charged sips of coffee, and the occasional knowing cheeky smile.

Eventually, you gave up. "Fine," you huffed. "I'll go pack."

———————

When you'd first seen the car, you had to do a double take.

Chris was not a flashy person, but this car – was there any other word for it other than flashy?

"It's just a rental," Chris chuckled at your expression, strutting past you with a duffel bag in hand. He was being... strange, somehow. Something wasn't quite right, but he seemed fine, so you followed him to the sleek cranberry red convertible parked in the driveway. "I thought to myself: if we're going to Vegas, we're going to do it right."

He tossed the bag into the back, taking care to not hit Dodger who was already happily seated. He helped you with yours, before holding your door open for you.

The sun had already warmed the seats, and while you clicked the seatbelt in, Chris all but parkoured into the car.

His strong limbs moved easily, muscles flexing as he hoisted him up and over the door. The car bounced slightly when he landed, key already inching towards the ignition.

"You know, they put doors on the car for a reason," you said, digging in your bag for your sunglasses. If you were to be sat in that car for four hours, baking in the sun, you'd surely need them. You could already feel your arms, bare in the tank top you'd favoured in the Californian heat, heating up in spite of the sunscreen you'd slathered yourself in.

"Where's the fun in that?"

Chris had had a permanent smile on his face, ever since he'd all but kicked your door down to drag you to Vegas.

"What's going on with you?"

He seemed almost taken aback. "What do you mean?"

"You're being... weird."

"You're being weird," he retorted, somewhat childishly. In spite of having your eyes hidden, he didn't miss your eye roll. Propping his hand on your headrest, he turned to look at Dodger, who was happily panting in the backseat, tucked between the bags. "Everybody strapped in?"

Dodger barked in response, and you couldn't help but giggle.

"Brilliant."

The car turned over smoothly, engine roaring to life, and as you ripped down the driveway, Chris whooped.

He turned to you, the biggest, goofiest smile on his face. "Vegas, baby!"

———————

With the wind in your hair, any chill being quickly chased away by the heat of the sun, you found yourself smiling. You tore across Interstate 15, now in the open span of the desert.

Chris' excitement was infectious. Any conversation attempts were immediately drowned out, so you had settled on a playlist. Wailing at the top of your lungs, you sang along to many a Disney and Queen song you had playing through the aux chord, volume cranked to the maximum to be heard over the roar of road and engine.

Dodger – tongue waving happily in the wind – sometimes howled along. Being there, sat next to Chris in the open air, you felt carefree. There was only you, and him, and Dodger, and the ease of the roadtrip.

Chris reached over to adjust the rearview mirror, managing to catch your reflection in it. He paused, eyes darting between you and the road.

Your head was thrown back, lips stretched into a smile while you belted along to the third replay of Bohemian Rhapsody, hair tossed to the wind. The sight was enough to make his heart dissolve.

"Eyes on the road!" You laughed, yelling at him as the car began it's slight tilt into the other lane.

Quickly pulling the vehicle back on track, laugh strained, Chris fixed the rearview again to have eyes on Dodger – who seemed entirely unconcerned with the troubles of his owner.

"You hungry?" You fought to be heard over the music and whistling wind.

He leaned closer to you, now absorbed entirely with the road. "What?!"

"Are you hungry?!"

He shrugged, pulling himself back into his seat. "I could eat!"

You'd stopped at a gas station earlier, and had managed to gather some supplies for the long drive ahead. From the grocery bag at your feet, you pulled out Chris' sandwich, managing to tear open the packaging out of the wind's reach.

You held it out to him, but instead of taking it from you like you intended, he ducked his head and took a monstrous bite, teeth lightly grazing your fingertips.

The shiver that ran down your spine was immediately overcome when he pulled away – only for the slice of ham to follow him back up. It hung from his lips, flapping in the wind, slapping at his face.

He was grinning when he turned to look at you, sunglasses having fallen slightly down the bridge of his nose to reveal his eyes. They were alive with humour and so blue in the sunlight. His mouth was full of sandwich and ham when he flashed his pearly whites, and, with expert movement and tongue work, he scooped the ham into his mouth. He moaned in mock ecstasy.

"You're such a dork!" You shouted over the wind, once you'd overcome the hysterics and he'd finished his mouthful of ham.

"I'm so what?" He yelled back, feigning haven't heard you. "Sexy?! My God, you're right!"

In your distraction, Dodger had snatched the sandwich from your hand, earning him shocked gasps from both of you.

"Dodger!" You scolded, but the sandwich was done by the time you whirled around to look at him. He barked, content, and licked a wet stripe to your face.

"Yeah, that's right, bud! You tell her!"

———————

You slowed down once you reached the city limits of Vegas to take in the sights. Not that there was much to see.

The glitz and glam so often portrayed on the silver screen was replaced by a seediness that you simply could not reconcile with all that you had been expecting. Hollywood really had the audacity to lie to you like that, you supposed.

It almost made you wonder who would want to have their wedding here. But there was also a charm to it, if you didn't look too closely.

Several Elvises (Elvi?) were sharing a cigarette outside a club, while showgirls strutted down the gum caked sidewalks, feathers ruffling in the breeze and the sway of their ten inch heels.

They waved when you drove past, and Dodger gave them a thrilled yap. He had never seen something that big with feathers before, and you almost had to grab his collar before he chased them down.

After seeing so many multithemed casinos – especially the closer you got to the city center – that it became monotonous, your illusion of glitz and glamour was restored when Chris pulled the car up outside the Bellagio.

"You're kidding," you breathed.

He chuckled. "Not good enough?"

"Too good enough," you practically stuttered.

Chris shut the engine off before clambering out of the car, thankfully using the door this time. He stretched, muscles stiff from the long ride.

"Everyone at the wedding is staying here. The reception's going to be held in the ballroom, but if you don't want to..."

"No!" You said quickly. And then, softer: "I'd love to stay here, I'm just... trying to... you know?"

All you could do was gesture aimlessly, but Chris did know. There was a time once where lavish hotels and spontaneous trips across the country were very new to him.

"Well, good," he said while handing the keys over to the valet, slipping him a good tip and a grateful smile. That smile stayed, changing into something softer and more genuine when he turned back to you. "Because the reservation is already booked and it'll be a bitch cancelling it now."

He helped you out of the car, your legs shaky from both sitting for so long and the delight of getting the chance to spend the night at the freaking Grand Bellagio Hotel & Casino.

Once he was certain you weren't going to keel over, he put the seat forward to let a very excited Dodger out. Obedient as always, Dodger remained by Chris' side as he retrieved the bags.

Giving a friendly wave to the valet – arm barely weighed down by the duffel bag curled in his hand – Chris led you and Dodge into the foyer.

Inside was just as beautiful as the outside, if not more. You were suddenly feeling lightheaded, taking in the opulence it was furnished in. You felt out of place, standing there, road weary in your rumpled denim shorts and spaghetti strap tank. Especially when you caught sight of it – the trademark Bellagio fountain. Water climbed the sky, only to fall back down in a heavy shower, sparkling in the hotel lights. It was magnificent and you were suddenly feeling so small, so–

"Afternoon, ma'am. Reservation under the name Evans?"

Chris' low voice practically boomed in the quiet of the front desk, breaking the spell. It unnerved you how hyper aware you were of his every action.

The process of checking in was mundane, but soon, key cards in hand, Chris was guiding you towards the elevator, Dodger in tow. You didn't know whether to be relieved or crestfallen that Chris had booked separate rooms – still conjoining, for Dodger's benefit. You decided you were relieved. It was much easier to puzzle through relief than to dwell on the pain in your chest.

Against Chris' insistence, a bellboy took your bags for you. And it was while you were waiting for the elevator that you met the groom.

"Well, I'll be damned," you heard a familiar voice say. Not familiar because you knew it personally, but familiar because you had heard it many times before, often while seated in a cinema seat. "Christopher Evans, as I live and breathe."

"Always with the theatrics, Downey," Chris grinned. They hugged, clapping each other on the backs.

Robert wore a large smile and an incredibly well tailored suit.

Dodger let out a deafening bark, tail blurring in the speed of his wag. He practically pounced on the man, causing Robert to laugh, petting him. "Easy, boy." Absentmindedly, but no less sincere, Robert continued, hands buried in Dodger's fur while he addressed the two of you. "I'm so glad you could make it. I know it was a very last minute, spur of the moment type thing. It really means a lot."

"Who else is here?"

Robert straightened, brushing some dog hair off his sleeve. "Hemsworth was stuck in Australia, but that was fine, given the short notice. Tom also couldn't find a flight–"

"Holland or Hiddleston?"

"Hiddleston. We managed to get the kid. Thankfully he had been filming in L.A. for the past few months. I couldn't imagine this day without him..."

And then he saw you.

You had thought you had run your capacity for getting starstruck well and truly into the ground, and it was only typical of Robert Downey Jr. to prove you wrong. You stood there, speechless, mouth agape.

"Holy shit," you whispered when you finally found your voice again.

You hoped he hadn't heard you, but he had, and, tipping his sunglasses down to take you in, he beamed. "And who do we have here?"

"Robert, this is–"

"{Your full name}. It's so lovely to meet you," you gushed, fervently shaking his extended hand. "Really, it's an honour. I love you 3000. I'm sorry, I don't know why I said that. I just can't believe it's you. I'm sorry, I'm going to let go of your hand now."

Robert smirked at your enthused outburst. He glanced at Chris. "Where did you find this one?"

"It's not like that, Rob. She's just a friend."

Attention back to you, Robert pushed his glasses back up with one practiced finger. "Well, just a friend. It's great to have you here, celebrating this day with Susan and I. I like the whole... 80's vibe you have going on. You're really taking this revival seriously."

Your confusion was shortlived.

As soon as you and Chris had said goodbye to Robert to shower the roadtrip away and get ready for the wedding, you caught your reflection in the elevator mirror.

And... to put it mildly, it was a sight to behold. You instantly knew what he had meant by "80's vibe."

Your hair was a mess, tousled and wind swept to rest atop your head at new voluminous heights. Your sunglasses – which you hadn't given much thought to, having slid them up and out of your eyes – were tangled lopsidedly in a precarious perch.

You looked insane. You had met Robert Downey Jr. while looking like an inmate at Arkham, and the cold slither of mortification overcame you.

"How. Could. You. Not. Tell. Me?!" You punctuated every word with a slap to Chris' muscle bound arm, and although they were light and didn't hurt, he shied away from you all while chuckling smugly. "How could you not tell me?!"

He kept his eyes on the screen displaying number of floors you flew past as he shrugged. "I didn't see anything wrong."

"What do you mean, Chris?! Look at me! I have Farah Fawcett hair!" You gestured wildly at the birdsnest.

He did as you requested, and turned to you. "You look beautiful," he said simply. "I didn't see anything wrong."

———————

The ceremony took place at A Little White Chapel – a little over a ten minute drive away from the Bellagio – and was nothing short of sweet.

You had felt a little self conscious, wearing the baby blue summer dress you had found sitting in the back of your closet untouched for a little over six months. Chris could sense you apprehension.

You had been picking at a tiny loose thread in the hem of the skirt when he leaned down to you.

"How many times do I have to say it?" He sighed, reassurance tinted in his voice. "You look fine."

You gave him a small smile. "Maybe just once more?"

"You look–"

And then he was practically knocked over by the barrelling tackle hug Anthony greeted him with. Breath knocked out of him, Chris grinned as he hugged Anthony back.

"There she is," Mackie opened his arms to you too once him and Chris broke apart and Chris turned to greet Sebastian who had been standing back, hands in his pockets, watching the sneak attack in amusement.

You giggled, hugging him tightly. "How've you been?"

"Oh, you know," he shrugged. He moved back slightly for you to give Sebastian an affectionate greeting kiss on the cheek. "Same old, same old. Work, work, work. Almost pulled my arm out of its socket throwing that shield. How the hell did you manage to do that for so long, Chris?"

The kiss did not go unnoticed to Chris. He was staring at you intently, eyes stormy, before being snapped out of it by Anthony. Storm subsiding, he smiled easily. "You just gotta work for it harder, I guess."

"Oh, is that right?" Anthony arched his brow, and soon they were play wrestling in their expensive suits.

"Should we break them up?"

"Nah," Sebastian waved your suggestion off. "Let them fight it out." He caught sight of someone and sucked in a sharp breath, eyes twinkling in glee. "Or better yet..."

"Boys, boys," a voice lilted out, mock scorn laced into the words. It was husky yet feminine, an exotic but distinct combination. "Where are your manners? We're at a wedding."

The boys instantly broke apart to see Scarlett approach. She was frowning in mock disappointment... but that quickly dissolved. She grinned, throwing her arms around them.

You couldn't believe it. It was a whole Avengers reunion.

"And you must be {your name}."

You returned her smile, holding out your hand to shake. She disregarded it, instead opting to give you the same treatment she gave her friends. Your heart warmed.

"I've heard so much about you," she said while you hugged.

"Only good things, I hope," you muttered shyly.

"Only the best. The boys won't shut up about you. Heard you turned a few heads at Vulpecula the other night," she winked. "Hope you're giving this one a hard time. He needs it every now and then."

The person in question arched a teasing – if not inquisitive – brow. "Don't be giving her any ideas. It's hard enough as is."

The double entendre was caught by everyone in your little reunion circle, and Chris' face flushed. "What I meant was–"

"Oh, we know what you meant," Anthony winked.

Something caught Sebastian's attention. Or rather, someone. He tapped Anthony on the shoulder, never peeling his gaze away from the new arrival. "Eyes up. Holland just entered the building."

Sure enough, Tom Holland had just arrived, Elizabeth Olsen at his side listening intently to everything he was saying. By the looks of it, they were catching up.

"You got the juice box ready?" Anthony asked.

Sebastian opened his blazer to display a juice box seated comfortably in the inner breast pocket. "Locked and loaded, baby."

"Let's go torment the kid."

And they were off, half hearted goodbyes mumbled upon their exit.

Their voices were inaudible, but from what you could tell, they were teasing Tom, offering him the children's beverage. He was taking it exceptionally well, laughing it off, while Lizzie said hello to the duo.

"The funny thing about them is that they're more like kids than Tom is," Scarlett mused, watching the scene play out.

"No, the funny thing is, is that I was ready to fight Sebastian for that juice box," you murmured under your breath.

That earned you a soft chortle from Scarlett, and something close to pride bloomed in your chest.

"Oh, I see Mark! I better go say hi before I miss him again. He keeps getting pulled into conversations and I can never get a word in." Scarlett slid easily past, but not before turning to say goodbye. "You two, grab some seats, I'll try and join you in a bit. If I don't catch you again, I'll see you at the reception..."

And then she disappeared, the only sign she'd ever been there was the trace of expensive perfume and a glimpse of her red dress and golden hair.

"I love her."

Chris bellowed out a laugh at your honesty, the completely earnest look in your eyes. "Yeah, Scarlett's great. One of my closest friends."

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" The new voice was the one you had encountered before – the one that had you self consciously checking your hair.

Chris ducked down once again, finishing his previously cut off reassurance in your ear. "You look fine."

Robert handed you a champagne flute each, ones he had plucked from a passing waiter's tray. "Because if so, it's working."

"I only have eyes for you, Downey," Chris raised his glass to Robert in subtle cheers. "You know that."

"I'm spoken for," Robert gasped, scandalized. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, he whispered: "But just say the word, I'll cancel the wedding and we can elope."

"I doubt Susan would appreciate that."

Robert waved off Chris' weak protest. "We've been married fifteen years today, I think she's sick of me by now. Christopher Downey. Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?"

"Robert Evans," you challenged.

"Perfect," Robert grinned. "It's settled. I'll bring the car around, we'll run away together. {Your name}, you'll officiate and we'll all live happily ever after. Agreed?"

He stuck his hand out for Chris to shake. Having to switch his glass to a different hand to grasp Robert's, Chris pulled Robert closer to him. Concern creased his brow. "But seriously, Robert. How are you feeling?"

The sincerity in which he looked at Chris in that moment, he could say anything and you'd believe it. But his answer was so simple. "I've never been happier a day in my life. I love her. Always have, always will."

And judging by the way he looked at her when she came down the aisle, you knew it was true. He was glowing, gazing at her like the very first time he had married her.

He looked at her the way an immortal would describe Galileo's first look to the Milky Way.

And if you hadn't been so entranced by the splendour of it all, that look that Robert had would seem familiar. Because right beside you, Chris was looking at you.

He was looking at you in that exact same way.

———————

"Is that Mel Gibson? Is that Mel Gibson. Christopher Robert Evans, you tell me right now: is that Mel Gibson? Is that Mel Gibson I see before me? Pinch me. Holy fucking shit it is motherfucking Mel Gibson. I'm in the same room as Braveheart."

Chris was watching you with complete adoration, a dopey smile on his face.

This had been going on for a while – it was so strange for you to be in a room of familiar faces you'd never met before, and although you'd served many a drink to the famous, it was one night at a time and there was at least a quick escape to the break room should you require a moment to gather yourself. You felt almost... naked in this room full of familiar strangers.

"You should go say hi."

"To Mel Gibson?" You blanched.

"Yeah, why not?"

"It's Mel Gibson," you said flatly, as if that was the answer to all the questions anyone had ever asked in the universe, ever.

"Okay, first, he's just Mel. You don't have to keep saying his full name." Chris handed you a wine glass. He continued as he poured some wine into it from one of the reception tables in the ballroom. "And second, Mel's great. We've had dinner together at Downey's a few times. Go," he pushed you gently towards where Gibson stood. "It'll be fine."

You threw back the wine and took one step forward, before immediately backtracking. "NononoIcan't–"

And then Chris had his arm around your shoulders guiding you over to where Mel stood, intent on giving you an introduction. "Yes, you can," he cajoled, trying his very hardest not to snigger at your mood swings.

"Look how cute they are," Anthony sighed.

Sebastian groaned. "Stop it."

"You're just upset because I'm going to win."

"There's nothing to–" Seb cut off, having spotted Holland at the bar. "Minor alert. Shall we?"

"Fuck yes, we shall."

———————

You had been speaking to Mel Gibson for a little over an hour at that point.

After the introduction, Chris had left you to your devices, going around the reception dinner and saying hi to everyone he knew, shaking hands with people he didn't.

And when he returned to where he had left you, he didn't know whether to be surprised or not to find you still there.

Mel found you quite entertaining once you'd surpassed the initial fangirling. You were so young and full of life. He listened to your babbling, interjecting when appropriate and imparting little hints of wisdom, here and there. And that's how you'd stayed, for an hour at least.

"{Your name}, can I borrow you for a minute?" Chris' voice was soft, polite. Giving you every opportunity to say no.

In spite of how entertained Mel was by you, once Chris had arrived, he'd already started looking for a different conversation partner. It wasn't something you took offense to – it was a wedding, after all, with so many people around. You couldn't hog all of his time. So you excused yourself from him, thanking him, before hooking your arm in Chris'.

You'd expected him to lead you back to the table, but you were surprised to find yourself being led to the dancefloor instead.

It was the first dance.

Robert, dapper in his suit, led a splendid Susan onto the floor, and the gathering crowd clapped and cheered. The violins and piano were struck, and the married couple began their hypnotic waltz.

"No need to thank me just yet," Chris murmured into your hair, eyes on the couple gliding across the floor.

Not wanting to disrupt the spell the dance had cast, you were slow in your response. "Thank you for what?"

"You looked like you needed saving." With every word, you could feel his hot breath fanning your hair, and those goddamn goosebumps were back.

"If anything, it was Mel who needed saving."

The waltz came to an end with a passionate kiss, and then the dancefloor was open to everyone.

"This one goes out to Robert and Susan," you heard a woman – Scarlett – say into the microphone. She had made her way on stage, and was looking at the renewly weds with unadulterated affection. "They begged and begged me to sing here tonight, and I finally agreed. As long as I was allowed to pick the song. So here is Let Me Love You Like A Woman, originally performed by Lana Del Rey."

"We couldn't get Lana!" Robert yelled from his seat at the table. The guests laughed, and you even found yourself giggling a little.

"Fuck you, Downey," Scarlett chuckled.

The band struck up the opening chords to the slow, beautifully peaceful melody. Without hesitation, Chris pulled you to the dancefloor, and turned to capture you in his arms. His hand rested against the small of your back – so perfectly fitting into the natural bow of your spine, it was like he was made to hold you like this – his other holding yours to his chest.

"Were you jealous?" He could see you were joking, he could see it in your eyes.

"Of Mel?" Chris scoffed. "No."

You continued your slow dance, relishing in the feel of having Chris close to you again, his body firm against yours, warming you through to your core. Your head rested on his chest, eyes closed, letting Scarlett's voice lull you into a gentle rythym. Her voice was so calming, that when Chris spoke, you had nearly forgotten where you were.

"But of Sebastian? Yes."

You could hear how hard it was for him to admit, the strain in his voice near palpable. But the surprise the admission drew from you caused you to shoot your head up to look at him incredulously. You could almost think he was joking, how ridiculous it sounded, but one look at his face and you knew he wasn't.

"Sebastian?" You repeated in disbelief. "Sebastian Stan?"

"I saw you kiss him."

He sounded so crushed, you found yourself hurting.

"That was nothing. That was a hello."

His next words were harsh, a subdued rage in the depths of the blue of his eyes. "Maybe the next time you feel nothing for a person, don't kiss them," he bit out. It was like he had been hoarding all the pain and resentment he had felt, and it finally spilled forth. "It sends the wrong message."

And then he was gone, ripping away from you, cold air filling the empty vacuum where he once stood.

———————

"I saw you and Chris out there, you looked..."

Anthony had been speaking while approaching you, but as soon as he saw your face, his tone changed. "Hey... Hey, what's wrong?"

You were sitting at your table, head propped in your hand, trying hard to mask your misery, but ultimately failing.

"It's that obvious, huh?" You sniffled.

Anthony dropped into the chair beside you – the seating arrangement proclaiming it belonging to Chris Evans – and immediately pulled you into his arms.

You looked a little like a mess, eyes watering enough to smudge your mascara, but you didn't cry. To be frank, you were incapable of crying. You were too confused to cry.

"Please tell me you're like this because of the wonderful union between Robert and Susan Downey, and not because of something Chris did."

You laughed softly into Anthony's shoulder before withdrawing. "I just... I don't know what happened."

"Walk me through it."

"He was... He was so happy earlier. Which I found strange, of course, because he was being too happy. I'd never seen him like that, even when he really was happy. It was like he was fake happy. And we were fine. We were..."

"Happy?" Anthony suggested when you trailed off.

"Exactly," you took a deep gulp of wine. "But then, now, on the dancefloor..."

One read of your face, and Anthony guessed what happened. And he didn't press further, instead offering you the only explanation he could. As Chris' friend. As yours, too.

"We are in the profession of pretense, {your name}. We're wonderful liars when we need to be, especially to ourselves. And the thing about Chris... Well, he can't lie to himself for very long."

#chris evans #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans/you #dina writes #chris evans/reader #anthony mackie #sebastian stan #robert downey jr #rdj #scarlett johansson #avengers cast

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poison--ivory · 3 years

Text

Uninviting Cataclysm (Alastor x Reader) Chapter 4

Part 1: link

Part 2: link

Part 3: link

For the next few weeks of your relationship with Alastor went from being worried about your well being to having hope that your life wasn't just a masterpiece of disaster. Things were finally looking up for you. Throughout those few weeks you got closer to Al, Mimzy, and Husk. Mimzy took some time to warm up to you and gave you the occasional threat now and again. You came to the conclusion that she cared for Al in a way that an older sibling protected their younger sibling. You can kind of see from her stand point of some random bim coming about and being the object of his affection.

You felt the same way when Issacs's girl erratically showed up one night. They both came home from hitting the town and getting liquored up. Mama was a wreck that night yelling and hitting Isaac with her small hands. Papa escorted the young lady to the guest room, deeming her not stout enough to carry herself back home. Ever since that night you saw the young couple in a dimmer light. Losing some respect for your elder twin in the process.

Husk on the other hand warmed up to pretty fast. Every time Al brings you back to the club, Husk and yourself play a couple of card games, losers usually paid for lunch. Teaching you how to deal all the way to keeping a straight face. He's a nice guy altogether, crunchy on the exterior and soft on the interior. But, you estimated that Al didn't like you talking with Husk for too long. He even goes out of his way to break up any sort of conversation if he sees you two getting too close.

But, the most valuable information you received these scarce weeks were from the man himself.

Alastor, the radio man is very hands on with you especially your waist. He wraps his lanky arms around your petite waist and gives you a strong, short squeeze before cuddling next to you. The only problem is he has to initiate the touching and he gets pissed easily. Al got so irritated when you gave him a shocking hug from behind and gave you a stern lecture with a small pat on the behind. You figured he hated people touching him without permission. To prove this theory you tried holding his hand when the two of you were alone. He yanked that arm back so fast all you saw was a blur. It took you around thirty minutes to get him to calm himself down. He spent the rest of the day with his hands in his pockets whenever you came into the room.

Your courtier would never take you to his house, but he would happily go to your home and chat with the family. You were quite perplexed that your papa liked him. He's the type of dad that gets mad if his little girl even has a crush on another boy. Yet, it didn't stop there, even your brother found him likable. You're very liberated that they all seem to get along, but you were a little disappointed that they weren't as protective as you would think. Nonetheless, you felt very fulfilled with your man that day.

Going on small dates are pretty joyful considering Al knows how to keep the fun going. If you even look like you're bored or uninterested he makes either witted jokes or invades your personal space in an attempt to fluster you. On some nights if you're really lucky he does more than just kiss you goodnight.

Next, you seem to notice whenever family is brought up he talks about his mother in a very bright light. But, he never talks about his father. You brought it up to him and he dismissively walked around the whole topic. So, you never brought it back up instead you got him to talk about his mom. Apparently he gets most of his personality from his mother, Abigail. She taught him how to make jambalaya, singing, his etiquette knowledge and that prize winning smile that adores his features. This guy brings up his mother with such admiration that makes you question it sometimes. It's not that you mind his banter, in fact you found it amusing to hear him talk so fondly about her. You won't lie about feeling a little jealous from their closeness.

He's definitely a Mama's Boy .

The last details you noticed were the really late night hunting he does. That lean frame of his is covered in scratches and small bruises. He tells you that most of his scars come from deer or jagged tree branches. It didn't explain the scratch marks on his neck. He told you those marks on his neck are from your guys last intimate moment together and without questioning him you believed his word. You don't remember clawing his skin. You left it at that and took him inside to mend his sore muscles.

Blood underneath his finger nails took you aback, when he took his gloves off. You offered to help clean them, but he was really reluctant to even let you stare at them. You just wanted to help, but he thought otherwise. He stared at you from the corner of his eye before giving you a loud laugh and a resounding 'No.'. Like everything else in your relationship you just let it go without any further question.

You should've known better.

Nearing the end of June, with most people trying to find efficient ways of keeping cool. You were inside a hot kitchen all day baking a whole batch of beignets for a special little boy. Joseph's last night here was today and you wanted to make it fantastic for him. So, you invited all his school friends, neighbors and some of Claire's friends. You were going to spend most of your hard earned money on his go away party, however Al stepped in to pay for most of the expenses. He even invited Mimzy and Husk for entertainment wise. That incident still gave you butterflies and a genuine smile on your face.

The only thing you needed to do was powder the pastries and get ready for the night of fun. Sprinkling the canister of sugar powder upon the delightful treats. Setting aside the sugary French styled doughnuts with a covering, taking long strides to the staircase you made it to your room to gather a simple long sleeved dress. Then, managed to freshen up with a nice bath and some light makeup. Packing the beignets in a proper container and double checking the security of the vessel. Alastor should be coming by to pick you up in his newly repaired car, but the person at the door was not your Al. But, your dear friend Husky. He adored a simple white button up dress shirt, black slacks with polished black dress shoes and pulled together with dark gray suspenders.

"Ya ready, doll?" Blowing the rest his gasper smoke into the night air, He leaned his arm out for you to take.

"Where's Al," Taking his arm with a worried look on your face. ",did something happen?" He waved his hand off into the distance before giving you a slightly direct answer.

"He had some last minute stuff he had to take care of." You both stepped in his dark boiler and sped off down the pathway. "Don't worry he'll make it back in time for the party. Fucker lectured me about being late and look at what he's doing now." He scoffed.

"Well, thank you. For taking me in his place, Husk. I really appreciate it." Flashing him your most sincere smiles. His cheeks flushed a modest hue of pink before he scowled. Grumbling a quiet ‘welcome’ before his gaze drifted towards the road. The path ahead grew bumpier by every turn down a lane leading through the thick woods. We scheduled for the party to be held near the bayou at mid evening. So, by the time the party starts the sun should be setting.

Husk and you managed to keep conversation up with the occasional bits of quietness here or there. Talking to Husk is like talking to your other self. Sometimes you could say the most random shit and he’ll come back with a response that will put a smile to your face. He’s basically like your second big brother with a small(not at all) drinking problem.

“So, when are you getting this car repaired,” The boiler hitting a jagged rock before settling back in place. “Because this gal has seen better days and probably a near death in its future.” You murmured under your breath.

“Fucking inherited this piece of junk from my old man. Shitty old fucker couldn’t even buy me a new one.” A loud, deep growl came from his throat and through one arm off the wheel, “Bought himself a new car, while I’m struggling to get to work and back.” He scowled and gave a great sigh before stating he needed a drink.

“I’m pretty sure there’s going to be lots of liquor, especially from those old geezers.” You knew that Mrs. Claire and her friends would sit outside their houses at dusk drinking away on those rickety porches getting buzzed. You know this because your papa used to take you out and sat you down on the weathered wood while he got tipsy with his friends. One sundown you took a sip of a stray bottle they left unattended, you being a small child decided it would be experimental to drink the loopy juice. You took one sip and gagged, spitting saliva and finally throwing up. Mama was so pissed, and wouldn’t let him go drink for months.

“Good fucking need it.” He seemed to ease up a bit just by the mention of booze.

“Why are you so wound up tonight anyway.” Raising an eyebrow over in his direction.

“Alastor didn’t tell me until last minute that I had to pick you up and I was already three-fourths of the way to the party.” His fingers gripped his hair, then slowly combed through it. “ Fucking asshole wasn’t even remorseful.” Adding in a quiet jackass in his blur of curses.

“What exactly did he say he was doing tonight, if you don’t mind me asking.” Conscious of his body language you observed his hands tighten on the steering wheel, his posture straighten for just a second then went back to hunching. Husk’s Adams apple bobbed down and up, you wanted to chalk it up to him yearning for his alcohol. “It’s not something dangerous right?”

“Nah, it’s nothing dangerous he just had to run some errands and I guess he had more on his platter than expected.” He reassured you, his hand rubbed the top of your hands.

“I know he’s spontaneous, but this is kind of unexpected of him. He seems to love get-togethers or any social event with music.” You did have hopes for the two of you spending the night together. Maybe lay down on the grass and star gaze and probably watch Husk get drunk. “We do have time before the party, we could go and help him finish what he needs done.”

“No!” He groaned, slightly pulling on his face. “He already has Mimzy helpin’ him, and he would get pissed if I just brought you by.”

You really didn’t understand why you couldn’t drop by to help.

If it was a work matter you would have noticed or heard about the situation, but nothing eventful really happened this week. The victims of the Bayou Killer reduced their number of murdered victims these past handful of weeks. Which makes you feel somewhat safe tonight and that’s sort of why you're throwing this party.

Maybe you're just reading too far into the situation and Al’s going to be just a few minutes late.

“It’s fine I know first hand how Al can get a little irked when people don’t follow his instruction.” Managing a small smile to your lips. “I was just a little curious about the whole ordeal.”

Inhaling a deep breath Husk created a deep groan that emitted from his throat. “Don’t beat yourself up, (y/n). Being curious about your lover is perfectly fine.” Taking another puff from his gasper and letting the smoke trail out the window. “ And to be clear here, he’s an asshole and you're just the clueless moth flying towards his flame.”

Furrowing your eyebrows, “What’s that supposed to mean?”, you demanded.

Husk made another groan emit from his throat, he’s been doing that a lot tonight. But, you never really see Husk worried, he’s usually either angry, smug or on the occasion vulnerable. He gets you overwhelmed with fear when he talks so lowly about himself, the whole scene of him with bottles on bottles lying next to his passed out body makes your chest clench.

“I’m not insulting ya it’s just,” He twirled his wrist in a small circle, “Al’s not some dandy who needs your concern. To be completely honest you deserve a fellow who would settle down and have a nice family one day.”

“What makes you think Alastor doesn’t want to have a family with me.” You tightly crossed your arms over your chest, “Did he mention any of this to you?”

“No, no when you have been with Al as long as I have you tend to pick up all of his quirks.” Another deep puff and that stick was gone. The smoke came out in rings carried off by the wind. “And his motives.”

Opening your mouth to counter his claim, the upcoming lights flashed in your eyes. The lanterns strung up on steel poles lined along the large land area. You could already see a large portion of people starting in on their fun evening.

Husk pulled over to the side where a small portion of boilers settled at. He stepped out and walked over to your side, wrapping his arm around your frame leading you down the path of bright lights. Prior to leaving you snatched the beignets from dash nearly pushing them out your mind beforehand.

Joseph seemed like he’s having a despairing time with his friends. While they all played together, he sat himself down on one of the benches. Face cast away from them and back hunched over to rest his head on his arms. His little head turned towards your way, eyes closed, brows furrowed and crunching his nose up.

His gaze met yours and that little cannon rammed right into your gut. The air nearly left your lungs, but you deliberately gained your stance. “How’s the going away boy doing?” Returning his tight squeeze with an equally suffocating grasp. Little hands pulled on dress and a small face nuzzled into your side, Joseph’s petite face stared up at you, whites of the eyes turned pinkish. “Oh, honey, I know moving is really isolated, but look on the bright side. You can spend time with your cousins and experience new places.”

“It’s not the same.” His little voice raised a very squeaky octave. “They all make fun of me whenever I visit. They call me a baby for still sleepin’ in the same room as granny, they even called me daisy.” Shoving his face back into your hip, a large shiver went throughout his small body.

You know from great experience about family troubles, but comparing your situation to Joseph’s would be like comparing a gator to a croc. They may look the same on the outside, but they have major differences. His family was more docile like a gator, while your biological parents were more like crocodiles, very aggressive and annoyed by others in their space. But, this isn’t your family, thank god, this is about your favorite little guy right now.

I should stop doing this to myself.

“I know this is hard for you and we can’t really change your granny mind any time soon.” Ushering him back over to the bench sitting him down next to you. “But, you still mail and call to us everyday if you want to. It might just make you feel better about being so far away from all the wondrous folk down here.”

“You really think that’ll work.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Well, yes I do think that’ll work just fine.” Stroking his hair out his face in the process rubbing the stray tears. “So, how does that sound.”

He slothfully nodded, looking up at the night sky. “I could have Aunt Shirley write my letters though. My penmanship is dreadful.” he quietly added, giving a small smirk direct at you.

Shooting straight up, with a small bounce you pulled Joseph to his feet. “Now I made this party happen and got you to stay up late, just for you to pout and cry.” Flicking his nose you gave a soft smile. “How about we make this night better with a sweet treat.” You showcased the container and popped the lid off. The aroma of powder sugar met Joseph and your noses. His eyes shined a tad bit and that tiny smile that hung from the corner of his lips gave way of his joy. He sure did love these sugary confections.

“Thank you, (y/n). You made this night a whole lot better.” He gratefully took a beignet and practically shoved the pastry in his mouth. Humming that the French doughnut was indeed good.

Walking off and setting the plate down you pinpointed Husk Downing himself with silly juice with some of the older guests. Deciding not being surrounded by drunk people was a good idea you made the decision of mingling with Floyd. He was probably the most reasonable person to approach. Upon seeing you he gestured to the empty seat next to him you gratefully took the offer.

“So, how has the night been faring you, Floyd.” Giving him a kind smile and gestured towards the party. “ Having fun?”

He gave a noticeable shrug before answering, “I kind of wanted to stay home. But, you know how Clay can be.” He took another swig of punch. “Not that I don’t want to be here. I’m just tired from this week, ya know.”

“It’s fine to be tired. I’m pretty sure we're all tired from the month with the past killings.” A small groan came from your throat. “Why do you think the killings stopped all a sudden?”

“I feel like the fucker wants to put everyone on the edge of their seats and while we’re all nice and happy they’ll find another body.” Floyd’s outlook was depressing, but you won’t lie about thinking that way, too.

“You really think they’ll find one.” You questioned. All you got in return was a short and assertive nod.

“Mrs.Claire has a smart idea of sending her grandkid to Arkansas, especially in the condition she’s in. Barely can afford to feed one person on her salary.”

Nodding you agreed with Floyd, Mrs.Claire does need help and sending Joseph to Arkansas would be her first step. You spent about the next hour talking to Floyd, Clay and his dame, Mama and Papa, your brother, Mrs. Claire and a surprising still standing upright husk. You grew worried about Al once you knew how much time flew by. Husk reassuring you that he’ll come later or in a few minutes. By the second hour it was already eleven o’ clock and by now you were more furious than worried. You decide to cool your mind with a few drinks and maybe a little liquor to ease your troubles. By your fourth drink you were a little tipsy and hanging off of Husk to keep yourself standing. You weren’t drunk. But you felt that if you let go you would fall straight into the dirt below.

Suddenly, hands blocked your view. “Guess who, darling.” In your inebriated state you uncontrollably giggled. The anger is still there ;like a grain of stubborn sand in a bag. But, not so much as before. Turning around you pulled him into your chest.

“You said a couple minutes late, liar.” You huffed.

“I’m sorry, love, but something came up and I couldn’t leave it hastily finished.” A huge smile plastered his face, teeth and all. “ Do you think you could forgive me?”

“Well, I don’t know.” Liquid courage gave you the confidence of trailing your fingers along his chest. “ Maybe if I get something to ease my anger.”

Al’s eyes widened and that sharp smile turned into a smirk. “My little bearcat is getting handsy this evening.” He maneuvered his arm around your waist pulling you into his side. “Maybe I should take you home. Come here now chere.” He strolled back to his car with you in tow.

Maybe I should’ve been more cautious back then.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au #1920s #past abuse #toxic family #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin mimzy #husker hazbin hotel #relationship #courting #period typical racism #time period

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noona-clock · 4 years

Text

What’s Your Sign?: Cancer

Genre: Roommate!AU

Pairing: Minhyuk (CNBLUE) x You (Female!Reader)

Warnings: Mentions of nudity, Cursing, Robbery/Attempted assault

Words: 6,203

Author’s Note: Since I’m so fascinated by astrology, I decided to do a Zodiac series! I will be writing a one-shot fic for each sign featuring different members from different groups (and even an actor!). Each story will be posted on the 5th of the month during that sign’s season. Please reblog, comment, or send in an ask with your feedback! Thank you for your support 💜

No one ever really knows when they wake up in the morning that the upcoming day will change their life.

If you had woken up this morning and known that... well, you weren’t sure what you would’ve done about it, but at least you would’ve been prepared. At least you would’ve gone about your day knowing that things wouldn’t be the same when you went to sleep that night.

But you hadn’t woken up this morning and known that today would change your life. You hadn’t been prepared whatsoever.

In fact, you weren’t prepared for the next few days!

But, let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We still need to get through today.

And let’s start with the backstory.

After graduating from University, you and your best friend/roommate/partner-in-crime had signed a lease for a beautiful apartment and had been roommates for the last five years.

You’d had many, many wonderful times in this apartment with her. Movie nights, dinner dates, board games, dance parties...

And then she’d gotten married.

Don’t get me wrong: you were happy for her! Thrilled! There was nothing you wanted more than for your best friend to be happily married to the girl of her dreams.

But that did mean you'd been left without a roommate in a two-bedroom apartment.

You had a fairly good job with a fairly good salary, but you still couldn’t afford a two-bedroom apartment by yourself.

You’d had to find a roommate -- and fast.

Since you hadn’t trusted simply putting an ad out on the internet or finding someone on some random message board, you’d asked around. You’d asked your friends, your family, your co-workers, and thankfully, the receptionist at your company said he had a cousin who was currently in your situation: looking for a roommate.

He had very quickly warned you that his cousin was a guy, but you dismissed the fact with a wave of your hand.

You were old enough and mature enough to handle living with a guy! As long as he was clean, respectful, and paid rent on time, you didn’t really care who your roommate was.

He gave you his cousin’s contact information -- Kang Minhyuk, his name was -- and you messaged him as soon as possible.

It had taken you less than a week to know you wouldn’t have any problems having Minhyuk as a roommate. Most of the time, he texted you back within minutes which meant he was responsible and observant. If you ever texted him somewhat late at night (meaning after 11), you didn’t receive a response back until the next morning which meant he was probably on the same sleep schedule as you. And he used emojis which meant he wasn’t some “I’m too cool for emojis” dude.

Honestly, what more could you ask for?

Minhyuk had moved in two weeks after your first message, and the two of you had been cohabitating pretty peacefully for over a year now.

He was no replacement for your best friend, of course, but you would be lying if you said you hadn’t gotten close to him. He was an incredibly nice guy, and while he did kind of keep to himself most of the time, you basically never saw him without a smile on his face. He always did the dishes whenever you cooked a meal for both of you, he always opened the very top cabinet when you couldn’t reach it (which was all the time), and he even insisted on answering the door if anyone ever knocked on it after dark.

Really, the only somewhat negative thing you could say about him was the fact he could -- and did -- play the drums. But he didn’t even have a real drum set in his room; he had one of those electric ones, and whenever he played them he plugged in his headphones so you could only hear the soft thud of his sticks and nothing more. I mean, unless you specifically asked to hear him play, which you had quite a few times. The guy was good!

He was also super good about grabbing something you’d forgotten after you’d already left the house and running down to meet you in the parking lot to give it to you.

Which, sadly, happened more often than you liked.

And which, sadly, had happened just now.

Today, it was your watch. And, yes, you could totally just use the clock on your phone, but you were just the kind of person who liked wearing a watch. You wanted to be able to just glance down at your wrist at a moment’s notice and not have to worry about finding your phone or reaching into your pocket or seeing all of the notifications you had to go through -- emails, messages, Tweets, Instagram posts...

You just liked wearing a watch! And if you weren’t wearing one, you felt weird.

So, once you rolled up to the first red light after realizing you’d forgotten to put one on this morning, you grabbed your phone and quickly sent a message to Minhyuk. He usually replied within seconds, and just after you pressed ‘Send,’ the light turned green again. After tossing your phone onto the passenger’s seat, you moved into the turn lane so you could turn around and head back to your apartment building. You knew he would see your message, go into your room, grab the first watch he saw, and head out to the parking lot to meet you -- it had happened several times before, and it was going to happen several more times after this, of that you had no doubt.

But, just a few minutes later, when you pulled up to the spot in which you usually parked, you didn’t see Minhyuk out there with one of your watches in his hand. You didn’t see him at all, actually...

Even though it would probably mean you would be a bit late for work, you pulled into the parking spot, turned off your car, and headed inside.

You began to get more concerned when you didn’t even run into Minhyuk on the way to your front door, and as soon as you unlocked and opened it, you called out his name.

“Did you get my message?” you asked, heading back to your room.

Just as you left the living room and turned the corner, you heard his bathroom door open. You could hear the shower running, and before you could even register that Minhyuk was walking toward the linen closet with absolutely no clothes on, you realized that was why he hadn’t been waiting for you outside. He had been getting ready to take a shower, so he hadn’t --

OH MY GOD, HE HAD ABSOLUTELY NO CLOTHES ON.

“Oh god!” you cried, your eyes widening before you quickly brought your hands up to cover your face. “Sorry!”

You heard Minhyuk’s astonished -- and embarrassed -- cry, and then you heard the rapid sounds of him opening the closet and grabbing a towel.

“What are --”

“I forgot my watch,” you explained hastily. “I texted you, but I didn’t know you were -- I was just coming in to -- I am SO sorry!”

“I was going to take a -- but I forgot --” he stammered.

You peeked through your fingers, seeing he had successfully covered himself with the towel he’d originally forgotten, but you still decided to put him out of his misery -- put you both out of your misery, actually -- and end the awkwardness.

“No -- no worries,” you said. “I’ll just --”

And you practically tripped on your own feet as you dashed to your room to grab a watch. (You actually grabbed two watches so you could keep one at work for when this happened again -- and you knew it would. You would much rather just have a backup watch in your desk drawer than risk this ever happening again.)

By the time you got back out into the hallway, Minhyuk was gone, and his bathroom door was closed.

Thank god.

You got back in your car and drove to work in a daze, your mind both completely blank but also filled with the image of a completely naked Minhyuk.

But it wasn’t until you actually arrived at work and sat down at your desk that you realized...

His body? Absolutely banging.

You truly almost screamed out loud when you thought that.

No! You should not be thinking that about your roommate!

You should not!

Not ever!

Never!

...Even though it was true.

NO!

Stop!

Stop it right now!

Stop thinking about his very well-muscled arms.

And his broad shoulders.

And his sturdy chest.

And his lean waist.

And his --

You blinked hard, squeezing your eyes shut in hopes that it would make all of these highly inappropriate thoughts vanish from your mind.

But, of course, it didn’t.

In fact, you went through your entire workday unable to not think about Minhyuk’s body -- his naked body. And, needless to say, you also went through your entire workday with flaming hot cheeks.

When your watch beeped to signal the end of your shift, you truly almost collapsed onto your desk and cried.

How were you supposed to go home and face him?! How were you supposed to act normally around him?! How were you supposed to look at him and not imagine him with no clothes on and not imagine him holding you with those well-muscled arms and kissing you with his sweet lips and carrying you into --

Your eyes widened.

...Oh my --

Why had you --

Oh no.

No, no, no, no, no, no.

...Ah, yes. In case it hasn’t become obvious, today was the day when you had woken up in the morning and hadn’t known it would change your life. Today was the day you had absolutely not been prepared for -- the day you had accidentally seen your roommate naked.

And now you had to go home and see him and try to hide the fact you had been thinking about his body at work all day and also that you’d kind of imagined him kissing you and carrying you to his bedroom while he was still naked.

Shit.

You took a deep breath as you stood at the door of your apartment, one hand resting on the doorknob. Never in your life had you thought you would ever have to prepare yourself to walk into your own apartment, but here we are.

“Just be normal,” you whispered to yourself. “Normal is not that hard. You’re normal every other day of your life, so just --”

“Hey,” Minhyuk interrupted, sounding a bit confused as he walked up behind you.

You jumped at his sudden presence, scrambling to turn around as your heart nearly leaped out of your chest.

“Oh, sorry!” he replied with slightly widened eyes. Obviously, he hadn’t thought you’d be so scared by his simply greeting you, just like you hadn’t thought he wouldn’t be inside the apartment! “I didn’t -- Are you okay?”

“Yes!” you assured him hastily.

“You just... were standing there for a long time. Did you forget your key?”

Oh, god, why had he used the word ‘forget’? It only reminded you of what had happened this morning. Did you now have a reputation of forgetting things?

“No, I --”

But you didn’t even bother coming up with an excuse. You simply whirled back around and opened the door.

It wasn’t until you got inside and hung your bag and jacket up in the coat closet when you realized Minhyuk was carrying two boxes of pizza.

You opened your mouth to ask him about it as you closed the closet door, but he began speaking before you got the chance.

“I hope you’re hungry for pizza,” he said, and one glance at him awarded you the view of his very sweet but very awkward grin.

“Yes,” you answered. “Always. Of course.”

“Good. I figured... I wanted to apologize --”

“Oh my god,” you intervened. “No, you don’t need to -- I should be the one --”

“I usually wait until you’re --”

“I should’ve known when you weren’t out in the parking lot --”

“And I hardly ever forget a towel --”

“I called your name, but I guess you couldn’t hear, and I --”

“I’m so sorry,” you both said at the same time.

Somehow, that seemed to break the awkward ice, and both of you let out a soft, relieved sigh.

“So,” Minhyuk said with an adorable grin. “Pizza?”

A grin of your own tugged at the corners of your lips, and you nodded. “Pizza.”

And you thought it was truly resolved. Honestly, you did.

But then Minhyuk suggested watching an episode of the drama the two of you were watching together, and you both plopped on the couch with your pizza, and even though you weren’t sitting that close to him -- like, you weren’t even touching him at all! -- just the fact that you could reach out and touch him was enough for all of your thoughts from earlier to come rushing back into your brain.

Great.

I mean, it didn’t help that he was wearing shorts and had a penchant of stretching his legs out to prop his heels up on the coffee table.

Minhyuk had definitely worn shorts before, and you had definitely seen his bare legs before -- why were you just now noticing how wonderfully sculpted they were?

He had definitely worn short-sleeved t-shirts before, and you had definitely seen his bare arms before -- why were you just now noticing how exquisitely toned they were?

It had to have been because of the drumming thing. That absolutely accounted for his muscled arms and bulging biceps --

Wow, the word ‘bulging’ was absolutely not the best word for you to be thinking right now. In fact, it might even be the worst!

Suddenly, Minhyuk let out a burst of laughter, and you jumped yet again. You, apparently, had been so lost in your own head that you hadn’t been paying enough attention to the drama.

And Minhyuk noticed.

After his laughter died down, he glanced over at you with a somewhat concerned expression. “You okay?”

Your eyebrows shot halfway up your forehead, and you nodded hastily. “Yeah, I -- just zoned out a little. Work was hectic today.”

Good save.

Minhyuk lifted his heels from the coffee table, setting his feet gently down on the floor in front of the couch and looked as if he was going to reach for the remote. “Do you wanna just finish this another time? If you’re stressed out, you should go relax. Take a bath or something.”

Noooooooooooo!

Why had he suggested a bath?! It was bad enough that you had seen him naked; you certainly didn’t want to give him the opportunity to see you naked! Or even think about it!

“No, no, I’m good,” you choked out. “We can finish this.”

And you shoved a piece of pizza into your mouth before you could say anything else. Your mind was so chaotic with thoughts of Minhyuk naked right now, you were actually terrified you would unintentionally blurt out something you would immediately regret.

Somehow, you managed to make it through the rest of the show -- though, you’d ended up eating almost an entire pizza as a way to distract yourself both from thinking so much about Minhyuk with no clothes on and saying something about it.

Minhyuk had, of course, mentioned that you’d eaten the whole thing. Not in a bad way, of course. He was rarely ever mean-spirited. In fact, if he ever had been mean-spirited, you hadn’t been there to see it. He had simply chuckled and pointed out that your day must have really been stressful.

You had just chuckled in return and nodded before taking another huge bite.

So, yes, while you had made it through the rest of the show and had headed off to get ready for bed without letting slip what it was that had you so bothered, you were now flopped across your bed with the fullest stomach you’d probably ever had in your entire life.

You were definitely going to regret this tomorrow. Actually, you were going to regret a lot of things about today. But you were also going to learn from your mistakes and make sure they never -- ever -- happened again.

Ever.

Your eyes shot open in panic.

“Oh, my god,” you whispered in-between heaving breaths as you slowly sat up in your bed.

The clock on your bedside table beamed out five AM, and you knew immediately you wouldn’t be getting back to sleep. Your alarm was going to go off in an hour and a half for work --

...Except. It was Saturday.

Lovely.

One of the two days you could sleep in, and you ended up waking up even earlier than you did during the week!

All because of this dream.

Oh, this dream.

It was the reason why your eyes had just shot open in panic, and the reason why your chest had been heaving trying to catch your breath.

It will be no surprise to learn that the dream had been one of the more erotic variety, and it had starred Minhyuk.

Of course.

Of freaking course!

Could you be any more obvious?! Having a hot and sexy dream about your roommate the night after accidentally seeing him naked. Wow.

Well, there was really only one thing you could do right now. Since you weren’t going to be able to fall back asleep, and since your hormones and adrenaline were both raging at the moment, you dragged yourself out of bed and got changed into your workout gear.

You were in the perfect mood to exercise, and since this so rarely happened, you needed to take advantage of it.

So, once you got changed and filled up your water bottle, you hauled yourself over to the complex’s gym in the main building. Unsurprisingly, as you got onto an elliptical and put your headphones in, you thought in the back of your mind that Minhyuk had to visit the gym very regularly to get a body like that.

You quickly set the time and intensity on the machine as high as you dared; you would have to go long and hard to get the images of Minhyuk working out expelled from your brain.

And now you would probably have to add ten extra minutes because of the words “long and hard.”

Sigh.

As you’d expected, the adrenaline you’d gotten from your dream had been the secret ingredient for a workout that you’d usually been missing. If you ever found a) the time and b) the energy to exercise, it was typically right before you went to bed, and your adrenaline was basically non-existent.

So, suffice it to say, this morning workout was without a doubt the best workout you’d had in quite some time. When you got back to the apartment almost two hours later, you were exhausted and energized and disgusting.

But at least you had elliptical-ed your Minhyuk dream out of your brain.

...Kind of.

It was still definitely there, but more like near the back. Not right in the forefront. Not screaming out for attention. Not standing right in front of you making a smoothie --

Oh, wait.

Since it wasn’t even seven in the morning, you had expected to come back to a quiet, empty apartment -- not truly empty, of course. You’d just thought that Minhyuk would still be asleep. Because, as we established earlier, it was Saturday. And we all know why you were awake this early on a Saturday, but why would Minhyuk be?

Alas. He was. He was in the kitchen in a sleeveless t-shirt and shorts, standing in front of the blender and making a smoothie.

He jumped a little when you opened the front door, glancing over his shoulder and looking both confused and relieved when he saw you.

And he also looked sweaty.

Wonderful.

Fantastic.

Just what you needed right now: a sweaty Minhyuk who was showing off his arms and legs. Great!

He stopped the blender and said, “You’re up early.”

“Yeah, I -- I woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep, so I thought I might as well go to the gym,” you explained.

“Oh, yeah? I just went on a run.”

Which accounted for his sweatiness.

“Do you want a post-workout smoothie?”

You had been kind of sneaking your way to your room, but when he asked you that, you paused. “Oh -- no. No, thank you,” you answered.

Minhyuk then turned around fully to face you, leaning back against the kitchen counter and frowning at you. “Are you sure you’re okay? You’ve been acting really weird since --”

He stopped talking, and your heart stopped along with him.

Oh, god, this conversation was about to get really awkward, wasn’t it?

To your surprise, though, he simply nodded slowly to himself before turning back around and grabbing a glass for his smoothie.

Without another word, you hurried to your room to get ready for a shower.

Quite early on in your roommate relationship, you discovered that Minhyuk was a homebody. If he wasn’t going to work or over to his parent’s house for dinner, he usually stayed home. Most of the time, he was in his room either practicing his drumming or reading or something. Sometimes, he watched movies out in the living room, and he also liked to spend time in the kitchen.

And this is exactly why, after showering and getting ready for the day, you headed out.

You went to visit your best friend/former roommate and her wife. You went to visit your parents. You went to the local mall to do some shopping. You treated yourself to a movie and some dinner afterward.

Basically, you did whatever you could to stay away from your apartment.

Working out had helped temporarily -- mainly, it had pushed the dream you’d had from your mind and made it less vivid. But it really hadn’t done anything about what had started it all. You still saw Minhyuk’s unclothed body every time you closed your eyes, including when you blinked. And you saw it in extreme detail.

But it was now getting dark outside, and you’d done everything you could think of to keep yourself from going home. Everything short of spending the night with your parents, of course, and you weren’t quite so desperate as to do that.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you exited the restaurant where you’d just had dinner, and you clutched the strap of your bag as you headed out to the parking lot.

You began to rehearse what you were going to say to Minhyuk if he asked where you’d been all day -- and he would, of course. He was just like that. He cared about your life, and he seemed to genuinely enjoy hearing about your day if you did anything out of the ordinary. You knew you needed to be careful about what you told him because you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

You weren’t hiding from him.

You were just...

...Well. You weren’t exactly sure what you were doing because it certainly seemed like you were hiding from him.

But you weren’t! You were just --

All of a sudden, you felt a presence behind you. You blinked rapidly and turned to look, but before you got the chance, you felt a strong grip on your bag.

“Wha --” you gasped, your body jerking in shock as the strong grip began to tear your bag away from you.

Before whoever it was could fully take it from you, though, you reached out and grabbed onto it as tightly as you could. You whirled around, your heart stopping when you saw some guy you’d never seen before. He was wearing a dark turtleneck and hat with sunglasses covering his eyes even though the sun was almost fully set.

“Stop!” you cried out, trying to yank your bag out from his hands.

When he wouldn’t let go, you kicked one of your legs out in an attempt to knock him down -- but he was too quick, and he, apparently, thought your idea was a good one because he followed suit.

He kicked you right in the thigh, and you went flying down onto the asphalt.

You cried out in pain, and when you saw the guy running away with your purse tucked under his arm, you cried out again. “Stop! That’s my --!”

But the pain was becoming too intense now -- you realized just how hard you’d landed on the ground and how hard he’d kicked your leg.

Tears pooled in your eyes, and they began to stream down onto your cheeks as you thought about the fact he now had your bag.

Your keys, your wallet, your work ID card... everything you needed for your daily life.

But, thankfully, not everything.

Your phone was still in your back pocket, and even though you had fallen squarely onto your butt, when you gingerly lifted one side to take it out, you found there were only a few minor scratches. Thank god.

You first called the police, explaining to them as steadily as you could that you’d just been mugged. You were relatively okay -- no ambulance was necessary at the moment, but he’d taken off with your bag. You gave the best description of the guy you could muster as well as a very detailed description of your bag and its contents, and they promised you they would be there within ten minutes.

When you hung up with the police, you called the first person you could think of: Minhyuk.

“Hey, what’s up?” he answered, and you heard the muffled sounds of a movie in the background.

You hated to interrupt his movie night, but... this was kind of important.

“Hey,” you sniffled.

Before you could even get another word out, Minhyuk said, “What’s wrong?”

“I --” you stammered, feeling your throat closing up. “I just -- I had dinner, and I was just walking out to my car, and this guy -- he -- he took -- and he kicked --”

“Are you all right?”

“Kind of. He kicked me down to the ground, and -- and he took my bag, but I don’t think anything is broken or bleeding,” you told him, your voice thick with emotion.

“Did you call the police?”

“Yes,” you nodded.

“Where are you?”

Your heart began to race inside your chest as you told him the name of the restaurant, and after promising he would be there as soon as he could, you told him to bring your spare key. Even if you didn’t drive yourself home tonight, all of your purchases from your mall shopping spree were in your trunk -- you sure as hell weren’t leaving without those.

“Do you want me to stay on the line as I’m driving?” he asked. You heard the sound of the front door closing behind him, and even though he wasn’t physically here with you yet, you felt so much better just knowing that he was on his way.

“No, it’s okay,” you assured him.

“All right,” he answered, though he didn’t sound too convinced. “I’ll be there soon, just hang tight, okay?”

You hummed in response, and when the call ended, you slowly pushed yourself off the ground to stand up.

Thankfully, your car wasn’t too far away, and you managed to limp over to it before anyone going into or out of the restaurant could see you. It would be embarrassing enough to have Minhyuk see you like this -- you didn’t need strangers to!

And, now that you actually had some time to think about it... why had you called Minhyuk? Why hadn’t you called your best friend or your dad? Was it because he had been in the back of your mind all day? Because you basically hadn’t thought of anyone else since... oh, yesterday morning?

I mean, yeah, he was a guy. He was strong, and it would have been really helpful if he had been here just a few minutes ago. But there was nothing he could do about the situation now. He couldn’t chase the guy down and tackle him to the ground to get your bag back.

When you saw blue flashing lights in the distance, you suddenly realized that you’d called Minhyuk because he was the only one who had access to your spare car key!

Of course! That was totally the reason why! Your key was in your bag, and your spare key was in the apartment, and Minhyuk was also in the apartment, and that was it!

You almost let out a sigh of relief at finally having figured it out, but the police were approaching you, so you had to get your wits about you to give your statement.

You greeted the officers quietly, assuring them you were all right and repeating the description of both the event and the perpetrator you’d given over the phone.

Just as you’d finished telling them the color of his turtleneck, you heard the squeal of brakes on tires, a car door opening, and --

“Y/N!”

Your heart jumped up into your throat, and your eyes darted over to see Minhyuk getting out of his car and jogging over to you.

Your eyes filled with tears again at the sight of him, and before you knew it, he had reached you and enveloped you in his arms.

“Oh, my god,” he breathed into your hair as he held you carefully. “Are you okay?”

You nodded even though you were currently crying, your fingers clutching the back of his shirt.

And you knew this was why you had called him. Not because you needed your spare key -- though that was true.

You’d called him because you needed this. You needed his arms around you, you needed his comforting, familiar scent surrounding you.

You needed him.

“Thank you, ma’am,” the officer interrupted. “I think we got all we need. We’ll give you a call when we find him so we can return your things.”

You were so deep in Minhyuk’s embrace, that you couldn’t even lift your head to say ‘Thank you’ or nod at them in response, so Minhyuk did it for you. He thanked them for their time, and as they left, one hand moved up to cradle the back of your head.

The two of you stayed there for at least a few minutes after the police drove off, though it seemed like much, much longer.

When Minhyuk finally pulled away, he took your face in his hands and began to examine you for injuries.

“I’m okay,” you assured him, your voice raspy and soft.

“Where did he kick you?” he asked in harsh, clipped tones.

“My -- my leg. I had tried to kick him, but he dodged it, and then he kicked me.”

“You’re sure nothing’s broken?”

You nodded, and Minhyuk’s hands moved to your shoulders.

“You don’t need to go to the hospital?”

You shook your head. “I just --” Tears began to fill your eyes once again, and you swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. “I just want to go home.”

“All right,” he whispered. “I’ll drive, and I’ll come to get your car later, okay?”

“Wait -- I have some bags in the trunk. I -- I went shopping earlier.”

Minhyuk nodded and reached into his pocket for your key. He unlocked your car, popped your trunk, and grabbed all of your bags before transferring them to his own trunk.

You managed to get into his car by yourself, wincing and groaning as the pain got even more acute and obvious.

You were not looking forward to how you would feel when you woke up tomorrow.

When Minhyuk joined you in the car, he turned the engine over, put the gear in drive... and then he reached for your hand.

He took your hand and brought it over into his lap, his fingers grasping yours tightly.

But you didn’t even have time to process what he’d done -- what he was doing -- before he asked, “You didn’t know the guy?”

“No,” you murmured.

“So, it was just random,” he stated rather than questioned. “It doesn’t make it better but at least we know you weren’t a strategic target.”

“He -- he does have my license now, though,” you pointed out. “He knows where I live.”

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to leave your side until he’s found and arrested.”

...Oh, boy. You’d spent the whole day trying to avoid seeing him, and now you would have no choice but to see him.

Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the feeling you’d gotten from being in his arms... or maybe it was something else entirely, but you felt the very strong urge to tell him everything. Tell him why you’d been out all day. Tell him why you’d woken up so early.

...So, you did.

“I stayed away from the apartment all day because I didn’t want to see you,” you admitted. “The... the situation yesterday just -- it really threw me for a loop. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, and I woke up so early this morning because I had a dream about you, and now I don’t think I’ll be able to stop thinking about how it felt to be in your arms, and if I had just not forgotten my stupid watch, none of this would have happened, and --”

“Wait,” he interjected, squeezing your hand. “You... you haven’t been able to stop thinking about me?”

...Why did he not sound totally freaked out?

“Uh... no,” you gulped.

And, believe it or not, Minhyuk let out a sigh of relief.

A sigh of relief!

What?!

“I thought I had traumatized you,” he said. “Like, in a bad way. I was honestly waiting for you to tell me you were going to move out or something!”

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about that, but hearing him say it actually hurt your heart. You hadn’t realized until now that moving out was the last thing you wanted to do.

But, still. You couldn’t quite believe that he was relieved.

“No, you didn’t traumatize me, but... I mean, you heard me say I had a dream about you? And, like, in the dream you were very much in the same... outfit as you were yesterday morning. If you know what I mean.”

“I know what you mean,” he chuckled.

Chuckled! He chuckled! Why was he being so nonchalant about this?!

“So, why are you still holding my hand?” you asked, your brow furrowed as you stared at his fingers linked through yours. “Why aren’t you grossed out?!”

“Because I like you!” he answered, sounding as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And, I swear to god, if I ever find the guy who did this to you, I will kill him.”

Your eyes widened. That certainly wasn’t the Minhyuk you knew. He barely argued with the landlord when something in your apartment was broken, and you definitely could not imagine him ever wanting to kill someone.

But one look at his face told you that he was incredibly serious about his statement.

Which meant he really must like you.

Why else would he get so... protective? Why else would he state his murderous intentions and promise you he wouldn’t leave your side until the robber was caught?

“...You -- you like me?” you asked meekly.

Minhyuk glanced over at you and dipped his chin in a small nod. “Yeah,” he answered. “I... have for a while now.”

And, despite the throbbing pain in your thigh, hip, and back, despite the fear in your stomach, and despite the fact you’d spent the last two days wishing it had never happened, you said, “Well, you should have made me walk in on you naked earlier, then.”

Minhyuk burst out laughing, and the sound of it made your heart glow. He brought your hand up to his smiling lips, placing an amused kiss on your knuckles as your heart glowed even more.

You knew there was quite a serious talk you had to have when you got home -- maybe not tonight, but certainly very, very soon. There were boundaries you should establish, feelings you needed to flesh out, and decisions you needed to make.

But, right now, you were more than content to sit in his car, hold his hand, and finally -- finally -- let yourself think about him with no clothes on.

It would probably be a while before you saw that again, but hey -- at least now you didn’t have to feel creepy about it.

OTHER SIGNS: ARIES, TAURUS, GEMINI, LEO, VIRGO, LIBRA, SCORPIO, SAGITTARIUS, CAPRICORN, AQUARIUS, PISCES

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the-voltage-diaries · 4 years

Text

I’m only one call away, I’ll be there to save the day - Daisuke Kambe x Haru Katou

AO3 link

This is the literal definition of self indulgence I’m not even kidding you.

And I totally did not write the last 1/3rd of it in a car because I didn’t have the patience to get home.

And this is unedited. So if you find errors please spare my humble life. I LITERALLY WROTE THIS ENTIRE THING TODAY. The inspiration istg.

Summary:

Daisuke Kambe doesn't get nervous. He doesn't overthink. He doesn't doubt anything he does, or any decision he makes. Except when he's in the dressing room, waiting for Hoshino to come and escort him to his soon-to-be husband. 'Cold feet' is the farthest term one would use to describe Daisuke, yet here he stands in front of the large mirror, wondering if he's good enough for the man whose eyes shine brighter than any star he's seen.

All it takes is one call.

And before he knows it, Haru right there in front of him.

He needs his hero, and Haru is there.

TW: Panic Word count: 3136 (woohoo)

Special tag: @akaiiro-yume for being my ultimate simp buddy. I told her this whole thing as just an idea and she said she felt like crying and I was like FUCK IT IM GONNA WRITE IT. So here we are. Thank you.

“Daisuke Kambe,” Haru called his name, his voice so gentle it almost got drowned by the waves as he looked straight ahead at them with Kambe by his side. The serene way his lips curved into a peace smile hid with such grace the nervousness shooting up his spine.

“Mm?” Daisuke glanced at his boyfriend, wondering why the inspector suddenly chose to call him by his full name instead of the usual ‘bastard’, ‘pain in the ass’, ‘idiot’, or just ‘Kambe’.

‘Am I doing the right thing? Are we ready for this?’

“What is it, Haru?”

“Marry me.”

Daisuke’s eyes widened, and he stared at Haru without blinking even once. “... What?”

“I said,” Haru turned to look at him, giving him an awkward little grin before grabbing Daisuke’s hands in his own and slowly going on one knee, “Marry me, ‘Suke.”

That was all it took. That nickname.

Daisuke felt every tense nerve in his body relax almost immediately as the answer came as naturally to him as breathing.

“Okay.”

Daisuke’s gloved hand wraps around the glass, his soft lips placing themselves on its rim to take another sip of water. It’s probably his tenth sip in the last two minutes (and counting).

“Lord Daisuke, you look incredible!” Suzue remarks, and he sees her smile at him through the mirror.

“Mm.”

“I can’t believe you and Katou-sama are finally getting married.” Suzue steps up behind Daisuke to smoothen the non-existent wrinkles on the thick piece of blue fabric covering his shoulders.

‘I can’t either.’

“It feels like just yesterday when you came back to Japan,” she continues, not noticing the way Daisuke’s nervous fingers fiddle with his cufflinks, “And now it’s already been six years… time passed by too quickly, didn’t it?”

“It has.”

Silence descends over them like a calm cloud while Suzue busies herself by fussing around with his three-piece suit, straightening it more than it already is, rubbing off any invisible lints, fixing his already perfect tie - a crisp, sophisticated taupe - and Daisuke lets his mind wander off once again.

He thinks about the six years he’s spent in Japan. But more specifically, he thinks about the time he spent by his side.

He thinks of all their firsts; their first meeting, their first argument, the first time he let Haru fall (not for him, but off the bridge), their first show of trust, first confessions, first kisses, first everything.

He thinks of their life after they decided to become more than just friends or colleagues. All of the small ways in which Haru reminded him, every day, just how much he adored him. Daisuke thinks of all those cuddles, all the nuzzles, all the intertwining of fingers.

And before he can stop it, a smile - albeit small but so full of love you could feel it radiating off of him - is gracing his lips.

‘Thank you.’ He finds himself thanking Haru in both his mind and heart… for just about everything.

“Lord Daisuke, are you okay?” Suzue asks, snapping him out of his heartwarming walk down the memory lane.

“Yes, why?”

“Your eyes…” she trails off, and Daisuke’s gaze shifts from looking at her through the mirror to himself. A small gasp leaves his lips when he sees what’s got Suzue so worried about his eyes.

Tears.

A thin layer of unshed tears coats those calm eyes, and Daisuke feels his heart clench with absolute adoration when he realises the meaning behind such a blatant show of emotions.

These tears aren’t of pain. Or of agony. Or of suffering.

There are tears of gratitude. Of love. Of unrestrained joy at the mere thought of the wonderful man waiting for him at the same beach where he proposed.

“I’m fine, Suzue.” Daisuke says, his eyes never leaving the ones in the mirror. “I’m just… overwhelmed,” he admits, taking a deep breath in.

Suzue smiles. “I can understand. It IS a big day, after all.” She turns around, walking towards the door. “I’ll be outside.”

“Thank you,” he says, and he means it. He couldn’t be more grateful to have a sister who understood him so well that they didn’t need words to get their message across.

And with that, Suzue steps out of the room, closing the door behind her, leaving Daisuke alone with his thoughts.

His eyes travel to the clock on one of the walls of the gigantic room, and he sees that he’s still got some time before Hoshino would come by to escort him to his lover. And his fiance.

Daisuke feels another smile tugging at his lips at the word, and he briefly thinks about how he’s been smiling too much today before his mind again wanders off to the man responsible for making him smile so much.

‘He’s too good to me,’ Daisuke thinks, sighing fondly. ‘He makes me believe that it’s okay to feel this… that it’s okay to feel happy. Sometimes it feels like it’s too good to be true.’

And that’s when it strikes him. The one thought which makes his shoulders go stiff, and his lips press themselves together in a stiff line.

‘But… What if it IS too good to be true?’

Daisuke’s mind decides to take another walk down the memory lane, but this time the road isn’t filled with Haru’s smile, or his warmth. This time, the road is dark, cold, unwelcoming. It’s filled with every memory of each time things felt too good to be true… and they were.

‘What if… what if this doesn’t last?’ He thinks, the pictures of his own parents clouding every space they could find in his head.

Haru and him wouldn’t end the same way… right?

‘Would I be able to make Haru happy?’

… As happy as Haru made him?

‘Everything I ever cared for in my life was ripped away from me… Will Haru and I be the same way?’

He notices as his chest starts rising and falling at a faster pace, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

‘Is it because I’ve been weak? I haven’t been able to protect the people important to me. I-I’ve never been good enough. What if… I still am not good enough?’

Daisuke’s eyes widen, terror seeping into them as his mind chooses to project a mental image of Haru walking, but not towards him. It’s an image of Haru having his back turned towards Daisuke, and he is walking away.

‘Am I even worthy of being loved?’

Daisuke thinks back on all the warm, loving moments that he thought of not even five minutes ago, but this time his mind focuses on his own actions instead of Haru’s

‘Haru has done so much to show me he loves me. How many times have I done the same?’

The back of his eyes burn so hard it feels like they’re on fire, and he finds it harder to breathe; he feels as if someone’s just wrapped their fingers around the base of his throat and is squeezing, hard.

‘Is Haru happy with me? WILL he be happy with me?’

His own fingers come up to his throat, as if trying to replace the invisible ones.

‘Should we even be getting married? What if he realises I’m not worth it?’

‘Where are you, Haru?’ is what his heart screams instead, but he doesn’t hear it.

‘O-oh god, I cannot be forcing him to marry me.’

‘I need you, Haru. Find me. Please, find me.’

‘He doesn’t love me. He shouldn’t be marrying me.’

‘Haru, please. Save me.’

I’m only one call away.

He doesn’t even notice his fingers finding the surface of his phone and he is too busy letting himself fall down the dark spiral his mind lay out for him to bother seeing what his fingers are doing with the phone.

Daisuke feels his feet give away, and he slowly slides down to the floor. His body trembles, his breathing continues to quicken, and he feels something dark crawl up his spine.

It’s something he can’t describe, but it’s so dark and so… consuming. He feels like his mind is being ripped into shreds, as if someone is slowly claiming their control over it.

“H-Haru…” He whimpers and looks up, closing his eyes. He feels the thick layer of tears forming beyond his lids collapse as silent tears stream down his face. He opens his mouth to breathe, but the inhale turns into a choked sob.

He wasn’t good enough. He isn’t good enough. And he never will be good enough.

Daisuke bites his trembling lips and brings his knees closer to his body in an attempt to hide away from himself.

Hah. What a pitiful sight. And Haru thought THIS weak little boy would be good enough for him? He should leave him while he still has time.

“Haru… please. I need you. Pl-Please don’t leave m-”

“I wasn’t planning to.”

I’ll be there to save the day.

Daisuke’s head snaps in the direction of the voice; a voice powerful enough to break the hold of what was slowly crawling through his mind, consuming him whole.

“Haru…” he whispers, blinking the tears away in an attempt to clear his vision.

The attempt is futile anyway, because the moment his sight comes into focus, he feels a pair of all too familiar arms pull him into a strong chest. “I’m right here,” Haru murmurs, pressing a kiss to his forehead before sitting down in front of him and pulling Daisuke between his legs.

“I-” Daisuke’s eyes widen, confusion slowly colouring over every other thought for the moment. “Wasn’t it Hoshino who was supposed to come?”

“You really expect me to ask Hoshino to check in on you when you call my number and then say my name the way you said it?”

‘I called him?’

“You sounded like someone was forcefully pulling every ounce of life out of you.”

“... I did?”

‘Yes, you bastard. You scared the living fucks out of me, y’know?’ Haru thinks, but instead of saying anything, he only pulls Daisuke closer to him.

He smiles when he feels Daisuke return the gesture.

Daisuke’s arms wrap around Haru’s neck and he places his face in the crook of his neck, taking a deep sniff of the latter’s scent. He feels his panic flow out of his body as the warmth of the man himself washes over his entire being.

“H-Haru-” the millionaire stutters, tears again filling his eyes, now that he’s had a moment for everything to catch up to him. Haru’s arms only pull him closer, as close as physically possible, and that’s when Daisuke notices some things he didn’t see earlier.

“You’re safe. I’m here. I’m with you. And I’m not going anywhere.” Haru speaks in between pants, his forehead covered with a thin, barely there layer of sweat.

‘He RAN all the way here?’ Daisuke thinks, taking in every bit of whatever Haru offered him; his love, his warmth, his confidence, his belief in them.

Superman got nothin’ on me.

“Haru.” Daisuke pulls his head back to look at the taupe-haired man.

“What?” Haru replies, his head still facing down. He doesn’t look up, and Daisuke can only wonder why.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Haru.”

“No.” “I love you.”

Haru’s head snaps up at the speed of light, his eyes so wide Daisuke fears his eyeballs might pop out of their sockets.

But now that Haru’s finally looking at him, Daisuke takes the opportunity to find out for himself why the man absolutely refused to look up at him just moments ago.

He feels all the air drain out from his lungs at the findings of his inspection.

‘He’s trembling.’

“I was so scared, Kambe,” Haru whispers, his head dropping on Daisuke’s shoulder. “I was so scared when I heard you sound so… weak.”

“I love you.” Daisuke repeats, and this time it’s him who places a kiss on the other man’s forehead.

“I love you too.”

Haru looks up, and their lips come together so naturally and so perfectly, one would think it was meant to be. And maybe it was.

And just like that, they sit there for a few minutes, wrapped up in their own warm little bubble, the world forgotten.

“Oi, Kambe,” Haru murmurs into Daisuke’s shoulder, successfully catching the attention of the shorter man. “What really happened?”

Daisuke sucks in a sharp breath, knowing exactly what Haru was talking about. The fingers holding on to Haru tighten a little more as he opens his mouth, and begins explaining what actually went down.

Daisuke speaks, and speaks. He expresses every minute detail, because he knows Haru is listening. Haru always listens. And he doesn’t just listen, he makes sure the other knows that he is there for him no matter what.

I’m only one call away.

Once he is done telling Haru everything, he looks at him with baited breath, trying to gauge Haru’s reaction. The only answer he gets is utter confusion as Haru pulls back from their embrace and stands up, brushing the barely-there dust off his suit. He looks down at his lover and extends a hand out to him.

But instead of grabbing that hand, Daisuke’s eyes get lost in the very gorgeousness of sight Haru Katou presents. Haru’s dressed in a three-piece suit, just like Daisuke himself, but it’s taupe in colour. His tie is the same blue as Daisuke’s suit, and he looks downright ravishing.

“We haven’t got all day, idiot.”

Haru sighs, grabbing Daisuke by the hand and pulling him up. He quickly wipes Daisuke’s tears and makes him look presentable (as if he wasn’t already) before dragging him to the door.

Haru opens the door to the dressing room, but before they can step out, Daisuke stops him.

“What are you doing?” Daisuke asks, his brows furrowed and the usual disinterest back on his face.

“Walking down the aisle with my bride.”

“You do know that you’re not supposed to be the one escorting me.”

“Yeah, and what about it?”

“Katou Haru. Are you joking with me?”

Haru turns around to meet Daisuke’s eyes and pulls the shorter man to him with one tug on his arm. He bends his head, giving Daisuke a quick kiss before pulling back and whispering, “Why? Is there a problem?”

Daisuke isn’t even given the time to blush, because Haru is already turning on his feet and walking down the hallway, pulling the millionaire behind him. They keep walking for a short while, even after they leave the building and step onto the beach, before Haru finally comes to a stop.

“We’re here.”

Daisuke pokes his head from behind Haru’s back to see where exactly they are. “Oh my sweet bleeding heart.”

“Of all things in the world, that’s the first thing you say, rascal?”

“Haru, I-” Daisuke is quite literally at a loss for words, because right now, in this very moment, in front of him is a low stage setup with curtains falling around it in a circular fashion, and tiny fairy lights giving it it’s very own magical glow. It’s like a world within a world. A world away from everyone, from everything - a world for just the two of them.

“Come on, you and make it anywhere. But for now… we can stay here for a while.” Haru mutters, glancing at Daisuke, “'Cause you know, I just wanna see you smile.”

“Very cheesy, I’ll give you that,” Daisuke chuckles, stepping on to the stage. “So…” he turns to look at Haru, “What now?”

“Dance with me.” Haru says, and then there is no going back.

All it takes is a nod from Daisuke and Haru steps closer to him, wrapping an arm around his waist.

“What is it?” Haru asks, noticing the furrow of Daisuke’s brows.

“We have no music.”

“I got it covered,” is all Haru says before snapping his fingers, and almost immediately, music fills the space around them.

“What song is this?” Daisuke asks, letting Haru pull him in by the waist and following his lead.

“Doesn’t matter. Focus on the lyrics. Oh, and me, of course.”

And so Daisuke does.

I'm only one call away I'll be there to save the day

Daisuke’s eyes stare into Haru’s as their feet move together, and he smiles at the lyrics, letting the other man know just how much he loves him. And this. Just how grateful he is for it all.

Superman got nothin' on me

And Daisuke can’t help but agree with that. His fingers gip Haru’s a little tighter as he sighs, his head coming to rest on the other’s shoulder.

I'm only one call away

Call me, baby, if you need a friend I just wanna give you love

“I love you,” Daisuke whispers at that, pressing a kiss to where his forehead rested just a moment ago.

Come on, come on, come on Reachin' out to you, so take a chance

Daisuke pulls back a couple of steps, only to have Haru reach his arm out. He grabs it, doing a slow spin and falling into the arms of the man he loves more than his life could possibly define.

No matter where you go You know you're not alone

“I love you too.”

Silence soon falls between them and they both close their eyes, letting the music be their voice.

Come along with me and don't be scared I just wanna set you free

Come on, come on, come on You and me can make it anywhere

Realisation finally dawns on Daisuke as he realises where Haru’s words from earlier really came from. He smirks.

But for now, we can stay here for a while, ayy 'Cause you know, I just wanna see you smile

“You’re just a giant ball of sap, aren’t you?” He retorts, looking up at Haru. He might be smirking, but even he can’t hide the affection that swells up in his eyes as his hands reach up to wrap around Haru’s neck, allowing the latter to snake both his arms around Daisuke’s waist.

“Shut up.”

And when you're weak, I'll be strong I'm gonna keep holdin' on

“I’ll never let you go, Katou.”

Now don't you worry, it won't be long, darlin' And when you feel like hope is gone

Haru smiles, pulling Daisuke closer to him.

Just run into my arms

“Funny, because I don’t plan to let you go either, bastard.”

I'm only one call away I'll be there to save the day

“You really are a hero, you know, Haru?”

Superman got nothin' on me

“Just yours, ‘Suke. Just yours.” Haru murmurs, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead against Daisuke’s.

I'm only one, I'm only one call away

“Forever.” Daisuke replies, his own eyes slowly shutting.

“And ever.”

Fin.

DONTCHA WORRY THEY DID GET MARRIED IN THE END THEY DIDNT FORGET ABOUT IT

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