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calm-and-wine · 3 years

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(I’ll give you) the best years

part V (masterlist, taglist)

hello, hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves! here is part 5 of best years, in case anyone needs a little escape. there will be one more part (more like an epilogue probably), but i’m not sure when it’ll be posted yet, because i do need to (and want to) write my one shot for the quarantine challenge. it will definitely happen though. anyway, hope you enjoy this one and i’d love to hear your thoughts!

PART V

November 2025

Life without tennis was weird, that was the conclusion Lucy arrived to after two months since her retirement. It wasn’t necessarily bad, just very different. She didn’t regret her decision, not at all, but it’ll take some to get used to that new situation. She spent a bit over a week in LA while the band was doing promo, then went away for a week, just her and Niall, back in Maui, celebrating their wedding anniversary and whatever the future had in store for them. That was good, quite normal, but coming back and not going back to training was not normal. Not having to wake up early was not normal. Not having to pay attention to her food or being able to drink alcohol as freely as she wanted was not normal. Well, it was her new normal and she should probably start getting used to it.

It wasn’t like she didn’t have anything else to do. She went to see her parents and stayed with them for a week. She had been making moves on starting the management to help young tennis players, attending meeting after meeting, trying to be as involved as her knowledge allowed her to, all the pieces slowly but steadily falling into place.

Her life hadn’t necessarily slowed down, it just took a different course. And in the middle of it all, her and Niall also started looking at houses. Their friends said it was crazy, them running around, from meetings and Niall’s rehearsals with the band, hurrying to not be late to meet with their estate agent. Lucy was actually more tired than she was while playing. But she wasn’t complaining. Because no matter how chaotic the days were, in the end, it was always her and Niall, under the same roof, in the same bed, together.

Even though they were both busy, they were about to be even busier. Well, Niall mostly. With the band’s first album after reunion being released in just over a week and a world tour starting in January, he definitely won’t be complaining about too much free time on his hands.

They just got home from looking at yet another house (fourth this week), going straight to the kitchen, with Lucy starting to heat up dinner she prepped earlier, while Niall put a kettle on for some tea. Even though they hadn’t spent a ton of time together at home, especially considering how long they had been in a relationship, they had no problem falling into step with each other.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, stepping behind her and putting a hand on the small of her back while reaching up beside her head to pull out two mugs from the cupboard. Because they drove separate cars, coming from different locations, they hadn’t even had a chance to talk properly.

“Um… It was alright, I liked the exterior, it’s very well-kept. Big garden, which is nice,” Lucy said, turning slightly to follow Niall’s moves.

“What about the inside?” he asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. It’d need some renovation.”

He sighed, passing her a steaming cup, knowing she liked her tea almost scolding hot. She took it with a smile, also noticing he chose her favourite mug. “How come there are no good houses in London?”

“I know, right? I did not expect it to be that hard to find a nice home.” Because Niall was close enough, she took half a step and rested her forehead on his shoulder, him instantly putting an arm around her to rub her back.

“Could you see us in any that we’ve seen?” he asked after planting a sweet kiss on her hairline.

“I like the one we saw yesterday,” she said, raising her head, but staying pressed to his body. “It needs a lot of work, but it has good structure. It was finished terribly, we would have to change the floors probably, maybe take down a wall or two…”

“That’s probably doable though, right?”

“Did you like it?” she asked. It obviously needed to be a mutual decision, even if they may not stay in that house forever.

“Yeah, I did,” he assured. “It has everything we wanted, just needs some work, but at least we wouldn’t have to rebuild it. And I liked the location a lot.”

“Me too.” She wrapped her arms around his waist, her mouth going into the kiss. “Should we arrange for a contractor to take a look? See if it’d all be possible to do?”

“Mmm, yeah,” he agreed, planting another kiss on her lips. “I know it’s not perfect, but I’d say we try, I think we’ll feel different once we’re done with it.”

“I was never a big fan of perfect anyway,” she shrugged.

“In everything except your husband, obviously,” Niall pointed out.

Lucy laughed. “Oh, that especially, I settled.”

He looked at her offended, pinching her waist, which earned a yelp from her, instantly squirming in his hold. But he held her tightly, finding her lips for yet another kiss, both their faces lighting up with grins. They truly did not need a perfect house, because they already found the perfect home in each other.

The album was out. One Direction was officially back and everyone was loving it. The guys were special guests at the morning radio show, then did a few more interviews before arriving at the venue for their special show. It was their first proper show, only performing the singles on tv or radio before. But tonight was a ‘one night only’, when they would play the new album in its entirety, as well as their biggest hits, obviously.

Lucy, Maya and Ines met up at the venue, waiting for their guys to arrive. Eleanor was coming later with Freddie, everyone’s families and friends were going to be there as well. It was a big day and the buzz was evident in the air. When the band finally arrived, everyone could tell they were scared about the upcoming show. But there were also huge smiles on their faces and excitement coursing through their veins. They just hadn’t done it all in a while.

They all sat down to have dinner together, talking about their day, the amazing reaction the album got and everything in between. It was truly heartwarming to see them back together and happy like that.

Soon after, the guys had to go to soundcheck, the girls standing up, ready to join them, all except Lucy.

“Are you not coming?” Maya asked, looking at her surprised.

“Nope, this one is banned,” Niall replied before Lucy could utter a word, throwing an arm around her and squeezing her shoulder with a wicked smile on his face.

“Why?” Harry asked, looking at the couple with intrigue.

“Well, I’ve actually never seen your show, so he wants me to watch it properly,” she explained.

“No spoilers,” Niall smiled, proud of himself.

“You’ve seriously never been to our show?” Liam asked incredulously, to which Lucy shook her head. “Have you been living under a rock?” he snickered, genuinely surprised. Judging from the amount of people who used to come to their shows, they kind of thought most people have seen them perform at some point.

“Nope, just travelling the world, being one of the top tennis players, you know, the usual,” she replied with a laugh.

“Well, it might be for the better that you haven’t seen us in our golden years,” started Louis, “at least you’ll be less disappointed tonight.”

“Oh come off it, you’re gonna be amazing,” Ines chastened him, hitting his arm playfully.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Okay, lads, we need to go,” said Harry, trying to rush the boys, knowing their team was waiting.

“I’m actually gonna stay too,” Ines said, when he reached for her hand.

“Me too,” joined Maya. “It’ll be fun watching the show with a fresh mind.”

“Well okay then, we’ll be extra sexy during soundcheck, so you’ll be missing a lot,” Harry said playfully, which earned him a few laughs.

Each couple shared a kiss and hugs, with Louis making whiny noises behind them, because Eleanor wasn’t there yet, before the guys finally left.

Lucy loved hanging out with the girls. They were all very different, but still got along well, having this amazing thing connecting them. It was the same with the boys, all four of them with very different personalities, but forming a bond as strong as true brotherhood. It was the type of relationship you wouldn’t understand if you weren’t a part of.

She had fun hanging backstage, she always enjoyed those moments, everyone buzzing with excitement, talking, relaxing before going out there, and sharing it with the band, the atmosphere was even better. It was like a family.

After sending Niall off with one last kiss and an unneeded ‘good luck’, Lucy went out into the crowd. All the women decided to watch the show from the stands, only choosing side stage for the last few songs, so they could hug their men right after.

Watching Niall on stage has always been an incredible experience, making Lucy not only smile, but her heart fill with warmth, love and admiration. But seeing Niall on stage with his three brothers was another level. It was so easy to see just how much love those four guys had for each other, for what they were doing together. And the crowd… She had been to many of Niall’s shows, but she’s never seen or heard a crowd like that. That loud, that passionate. It was breathtaking. And knowing not only how hard the guys worked for it, but especially how much it all meant to them, made it even more awestracking. If she felt like that standing on the sidelines, she couldn’t even imagine how it must feel for the four men on stage.

Lucy knew Niall loved watching her play. And she felt like she truly understood why. How proud he always felt. Because seeing him up there on stage, she felt exactly the same way. There was nothing better than watching the person you loved doing the thing they loved.

April 2026

Niall was finally home. Sure, it’s only been 11 days since Lucy left the band’s tour and flew back home to take care of some businesses, meet with the few players her management was considering signing and oversee the renovation of their house. She spent over two months by Niall’s side, travelling through America and watching him perform night after night. And even after that time, she hadn’t gotten bored with seeing him on stage. She probably never would, just like he’d never get tired of performing.

Having just over two weeks together at home came at the perfect time. Not only because there were a few things that needed to be done in London, but mostly considering the conversation she had to have with her husband. A conversation that required a certain level of privacy, which was quite hard to find while almost constantly being surrounded by people on tour.

She occupied her time waiting with cooking dinner, his favourite of course, but her mind and stomach were turning, both with uncertainty of the upcoming conversation and excitement of seeing Niall again. But the sound of their gate opening brought her back to earth, making her instantly turn off the stove and leave the kitchen to properly welcome her husband.

She got outside just as Niall was grabbing his suitcase, so she ran up to him and threw her arms around his body, which was as familiar to her as her own, if not more. He saw her coming, having managed to close the boot of the car and open his arms just in time to catch her. At that moment she was so carefree, running wild just because she missed him, not caring about what the driver might think or how it might look, just happy to have her love home.

“Hi,” he said joyfully, moving his hand from her waist to cup her cheek and leaning down for a kiss.

“Welcome home,” she said before going in for a second kiss. They were both aware that they were stood in their driveway and not exactly alone, so they refrained from making out like teenagers.

“Thanks, John, see you soon!” Niall said over his shoulder to his driver, grabbing his suitcase in one hand, the other wrapping around Lucy and leading them into the house.

As soon as they were inside and the door was closed, his mouth was back on her.

“Niall,” she laughed, when after a minute he moved to her neck, “I made dinner.”

“Not hungry,” he said hurriedly, like he wanted to spend as little time without the contact of her skin as possible.

“But,” Lucy started, which made Niall pull away slightly, putting his hand on the back of her neck making their eyes meet. It was like that look made her grounded again, all the worries, stress, all the different scenarios she made up in her head, none of that mattered. He always had this amazing gift of making everything else disappear. Like it was just them two, at that very moment, their feelings the only thing that mattered. “I guess the dinner can wait,” she agreed, marking her words with a playful tag at his hair.

“Missed you, love,” he said with a wicked smile, before raising her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to hold tight, and carrying her upstairs to show her just how much he really missed her.

They were enjoying the peace and quiet after dinner, cuddled on the couch, an old rerun of the show they’ve seen already humming in the background while they chatted a bit, sharing the things that happened the last couple of days, even though they already knew the majority through their phone calls. The company of their spouse always brought a level of comfort, no matter where they were, but when they were together at home, there truly was nothing better.

Lucy turned her head slightly to check if Niall hadn’t drifted off to sleep during the lull in their talks and when he looked back at her with the softest smile, the one reserved only for her, she said what’s been on her mind for the past three days.

“I might be pregnant.”

Her statement made Niall sit up, turning his body to face her properly, his hands grabbing hers to make sure her attention is all focused on him.

“How sure are you?” he asked softly, his voice level, oozing nothing but calmness.

“Um… Not really, I’m late, but I haven’t taken any tests.”

He let go of one of her hands to rake a hand through his hair. “Shit, okay, should we go get some now?”

She bit her lip nervously. “There are three waiting in the bathroom upstairs.”

He looked at her carefully, trying to decipher how she felt about it all, but he could only see the slightly shake to her hands and a soft smile gracing her lips, which was a bit contradictory, but in a way he felt like he understood her mood perfectly, a balance between very nervous and excited.

“Shall we go now, then?” he asked carefully.

“Yeah,” she said getting up, Niall halting her for a second before she could walk away, their lips meeting in a very reassuring kiss, before leading her upstairs with a hand on the small of her back.

Lucy had three different tests she bought the day before tucked away in a medicine cabinet, waiting for Niall to get home, because it didn’t feel right to check on her own. She went into the bathroom, her husband walking circles around their bedroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. She picked all three tests up, read the instructions carefully before peeing on the sticks, laying them all on the sink and rejoining Niall in the room to not wait alone.

“Hey, you’re alright, yeah?” he asked, coming right up to her and grabbing her shoulders, massaging them slightly.

“Yes,” she said, stepping closer to hug him, needing the safety of his arms. “I didn’t expect it, but whatever happens, it’s okay. I mean we want kids anyway and maybe it isn’t the best time and we didn’t really plan it, but we’re ready, right?”

He smiled at her, reaching up to tuck a stray of hair behind her ear. “I think so, yes.”

They took a minute embracing each other, both holding the other tightly, both having this epiphany that their lives might be changed in a matter of minutes. There were some soft kisses shared, loving words of reassurance whispered, before Lucy’s alarm ringed out, Niall squeezing her one more time before wrapping an arm around her waist, their bodies colliding as he led them into the bathroom to see the results.

“You look,” she said, burying her head into his shoulder, trying to take deep breaths and stay calm. She wasn’t afraid of being pregnant. Sure it would change a lot, a kid would probably turn their lives upside down. But it wasn’t like they never talked about it, they both wanted kids, they wanted kids together. She loved Niall, he was her forever, there was no trace of doubt about that in her mind. But it was still scary.

“Hey, look at me,” Niall said after a minute, his calloused fingers cupping both her cheeks. When she looked into his eyes, she could see them begin to glisten. “They’re all positive.”

Before she could say anything, a huge smile broke into her face, Niall’s face instantly mirroring hers. “We’re gonna be parents,” she whispered, as it was some kind of secret only they knew, like she didn’t want to share it with anyone else, it was only for Lucy and Niall.

“We’re gonna be parents,” he whispered back, resting his forehead against hers, before pulling her impossibly close, his lips finding hers, the kiss soft and urgent at the same time.

When he pulled away after quite a few more kisses, he grabbed her by the waist, lifting her and swung her around the bathroom, the biggest smile on his face, a laugh escaping his lips, she was also pretty sure she caught a tear running down his cheek. She had her doubts, she had to admit that, but she was also incredibly happy. Niall felt like her home for the longest time, but now they’d be a proper family. They were growing, they were making even more plans together, it was all evolving, growing, especially the love. She didn’t think it was possible, but it truly felt like the love they shared only grew and grew and all she could hope for was that it would never stop.

As Lucy slowly came into consciousness, the sun trying to seep into the room through the curtains, as soon as her eyes cracked open, she saw Niall. It was the best feeling to wake up and feel his body connected with hers, even if it was just their feet tangled together. But it was a rare sight to wake up and see her husband already awake. But this morning he was just that, lying on his side, an arm curled under his head, watching her.

“What time is it?” Lucy asked, rubbing her eyes, voice groggy from sleep.

“Don’t know,” Niall replied shrugging, his eyes not leaving her face.

“How long have you been awake?” She turned on her side to face him properly, her hand setting on his bare torso.

“Don’t know.” He reached his hand to push back the hair falling onto her face, before lifting his head to plant a good morning peck on her lips.

She looked at him with furrowed brows, his behaviour a bit unusual. “Do you know anything? Have you not looked at the clock?” It wasn’t like him to wake up before her but it was even more unlike him to not check his phone right after.

“Nope.” His face was lit up by a content smile, his hand travelling from her cheek to her waist to pull her closer.

“Why not?” she asked, eager to get some answers, see what was going on inside his head.

“Why would I?” He threw the question back at her. “It doesn’t matter, we don’t have anywhere to be today. Why would I waste time looking at the time when I have such a beautiful angel to admire beside me?”

Even though the room wasn’t entirely bright, the curtains keeping the sun out for the most part, she could easily see the love in his eyes.

“What got you all soppy this morning?” she laughed, feeling her cheeks warming up at his words.

“You get me soppy all the time, it’s your magic ability.” He moved even closer, wrapping his entire body around her, burying his head in the crook of her neck.

“I missed this,” she admitted, pushing her fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing better than waking up together.”

He hummed, his hands gently roaming over her body before setting underneath her t-shirt (or rather, his), right on her belly. Her heart skipped a beat. Niall planted a kiss on her neck, before pulling away to press their foreheads together, looking not only into her eyes, but straight into her soul. Lucy could feel her eyes starting to glisten, and who knows, maybe it was the hormones, there were definitely many emotions filling her, the strongest of them all being love.

“We’re really gonna have a baby soon,” Niall whispered, cupping her cheek, ready to catch any tear that might escape.

“Yeah,” she managed to say, before he leaped in to kiss her, wanting to show her just how happy he was, how in awe and in love he was, how grateful he was for her.

“You’re okay with that, right? Having a kid now?” he asked after a minute, his voice laced with the slightest hint of insecurity. They talked about it last night, but he wanted to check in again, after some of the emotions died down.

Just looking at him, concerned about her and her feelings, made her heart soar and a smile graced her lips. “Of course I am. It’s unexpected, sure, but I’d say we’re in a pretty good place, maybe it’s not ideal timing, but it’s not terrible either.” She propped her head on her shoulder to get a better look at Niall, making sure he not only heard her, but also knew she meant every word. “I’m happy. We’ve known for a while we wanted children, so we might as well start now, right? We’re having a baby, of course I’m happy. Pretty scared, but happy.”

“I feel like the happiest man, honestly. You always make me the happiest.” He grinned so much this morning, his cheeks would probably start aching before the clock even hit noon.

“Do you think we’ll be alright as parents?” she asked, grabbing his hand to play with his fingers.

“Well, I have no doubt you’re gonna be the best mum. And I’d like to think I’m gonna be an alright dad.”

“You’ve always been amazing with kids.”

“Yeah, but it’s a bit different with your own, right?” He shrugged before moving onto his back and looking at the ceiling, like it could hold some answers. “I think you might have to be the strict parent most of the time. I’m too soft for those kinds of things.”

Lucy chuckled, leaning up and over him. “We’ll figure it out,” she assured. “I need to call my doctor and actually get an appointment first.”

“You’re still coming with us to Europe, right?” He asked, looking up at her hopefully.

“Yeah, it should be okay, right? We’ll ask the doctor, but I think so. We need to get the house done though. Especially now.”

“Don’t worry about it, we’ll make it. Everything will be alright and if not, we’ll figure it out.”

She went in for another kiss, before settling down onto his chest. “I love you.”

“And I love you.” He moved his hand around to her belly and looked down. “And you little bean.”

July 2026

“You can see my belly, can’t you?” Lucy asked, turning every which way in front of the mirror.

Niall glanced at her from his place on the bed, looking away from the emails he’s been responding to and taking in his wife. She had a pretty summer dress on, the mixture of elegant and cute, looking as beautiful as ever. But he felt like he was on thin ice, because yes, he could easily make out a small baby bump beneath the material, but he was more than familiar with her body and was pretty sure this was not the response Lucy wanted to hear.

“Well… Yeah, but that’s just because I know it’s there,” he said, gesticulating to her stomach.

She huffed irritatedly, clearly not happy with his answer. “I don’t have anything to wear, then.”

Niall sighed (but not loudly enough for her to hear), closing his laptop and going to stand behind his wife, grabbing her hand to pull her close. “You look beautiful, love. And if someone can spot your bump, so what?” He knew Lucy wasn’t feeling great lately. Her belly started growing and as much as he thought that made her even more sexy, she didn’t feel perfectly comfortable with it yet, so used to the way her body had been pretty much the same for years. The fact that she had been feeling like shit, growing tired way too soon and morning sickness lasting almost all day, did not help.

“It’ll probably make tens of articles pop up speculating,” she reasoned, wrapping her arms around his neck.

He shrugged, clearly unbothered. “I say, let them. Fuck it, you know? It’s ours, yeah, but we can’t keep it on the downlow forever, so we should just do whatever we want to. And not care. You are pregnant, so why hide it?”

She bit her lip, taking a moment to think through his words. “Are you sure I look alright?” she asked again. “There will be a lot of people. And pictures.”

“You look stunning, Lulu,” he assured, marking his words with a kiss. “Like always, but even more. You’re glowing and I’m loving it.”

“I do not feel glowing,” she huffed.

He looked at her with concern. The doctor said it was all normal, some women feeling better, some worse, so technically there was no cause for concern, but he still worried, especially knowing that she was happy with the pregnancy, but couldn’t actually enjoy it, because it was not being easy on her. Having her on tour with him was good and bad at the same time, he was glad he could keep an eye on her, but it was hard seeing her struggle, especially all the travelling taking its toll on her. She assured him she was fine, time and time again, being an absolute champ about it all, which of course she was. But he was a husband, it was his job to worry.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay today? How’s the sickness?” he asked, holding her steady by the waist and taking a step back to look at her properly, almost like he was trying to assess her state, even though there were no clear symptoms.

“Not awful, but not the best either,” Lucy admitted, having trouble to even remember when was the last time she actually felt good. She took his hands and wrapped them tight around her waist, stepping closer to him once again. “You’ll be by my side, so I’ll be alright.”

He sighed, knowing there was no point in discussing it further. He did plan to make her ginger tea in a travel mug, so she could drink it on their way, hopefully calming some of her nausea, because that was pretty much all he could do to help her. “Are you excited?” he asked, changing the subject. They were going to watch the women's final at Wimbledon, with Lucy not only being invited, but also asked to take part in the trophy ceremony. It was a great honour, he understood that, of course he did, but just a little part of him wished she would take it easy. Stay home if she didn’t feel great. Especially because he knew she was stressed out about it. Not only about how she looked, despite all the questions she just asked, that was probably the least of her concern. She didn’t like being in public like that. Maybe she wouldn’t be the centre of attention, but she’d still be under the spotlight. She worried about making a mistake, having thousands of eyes on her, all the comments that might come after. She knew how to play on a tennis court, not hand trophies.

“Yeah. Really excited,” Lucy said, a smile taking over her face. “A little stressed, especially since I could technically feel the urge to throw up at any minute.” Niall was about to say something, probably along the lines of her canceling, so she pressed her palm against his mouth to shut him up. “But it should be fine. I’m really hoping Naomi will win, she deserves it so much.”

She didn’t just say it because she had beaten Naomi last year, but as a friend and a fellow player. They already made plans to meet up for lunch on Monday for a little catch up.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, they asked us to come in on Wednesday to see the house, they need some decisions regarding the living room, I think.” Lucy said, after Niall finally went into their wardrobe to change. She was just about to hurry him, not wanting to be late and knowing the traffic will probably be awful.

“Do you have any other plans on Wednesday?” he asked, coming back into the room, dress pants on and starting to button a light blue shirt.

“There might be a meeting regarding the sporting centre, I’m not sure yet. But if I’m busy you’ll handle it, right?” Lucy asked, not even trying to hide the fact that she was ogling her husband’s naked chest. Damn, she loved his body. And his heart and soul, but his body… It made her crazy, especially now when her hormones were all over the place.

“Yeah, of course,” he said right away, knowing Lucy was actually the one making sure everything was on track with their house, so he could take some of that load now that he was home for three weeks.

“And I might not be coming out for that last leg of your tour.” She said, finally turning around and going to put finishing touches on her makeup.

“Wait, what? Why?” Niall asked, stopping his movements to look at her.

“Just…. The house is gonna be a shit show next month, with most of the general work being finished, the furniture and equipment starting to arrive, the other crew coming in… We can’t ask Mia and Nat to keep an eye on it all the time.” She didn’t turn around, didn’t even raise her eyes to look at him through the mirror, because she didn’t want to see his expression. Seeing the disappointment on his face might just make her cry. And she spent way too much time trying to make her eyes look decent with makeup to destroy it now. “Plus there’s been talk of some more meetings, getting the ball really rolling for the centre… And it might be good for me to slow down for a bit. Especially all the travelling. I haven’t decided yet, maybe I’ll come down for Australia.”

“Oh okay. I mean…” he sighed, his hand going up to his hair and stopping at the very last second when he remembered it was already styled. “Yeah, it might be good for you to chill for a minute. But I’ll hate not seeing you for weeks again. And I don’t like the prospect of leaving you alone with it all.”

Lucy finished applying her lipstick before finally turning around, his eyes already trained on her, a weak smile on his face. Niall didn’t mean to make her feel bad or guilty, that was never the case, but he also wanted to be honest. And she knew he was coming from a good place, always.

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be fine,” she said, coming up to him and cupping his cheeks, making a move to plant a kiss on his lips, but pulling away a second before their lips met, not wanting to put lipstick on him, which made him whine and her let out a little laugh. “It’s just a few weeks. And then you’ll be home. And I’ll be here. And we’ll be moving while also preparing for the baby, so that will probably be a shitshow, but hey, at least we’re in this together.”

He smiled, kissing her cheek. Then the other. And then her neck, making her giggle. “‘Course we are. Always.”

October 2026

Putting finishing touches and getting ready to move houses while being seven months pregnant was not ideal. Thankfully they were both home now, after Lucy flew to Australia for the last shows of One Direction’s first tour back, they came back two weeks ago, after spending a few days longer, just relaxing, on the other side of the world.

All of this made Lucy stressed, her pregnancy made her uncomfortable most of the time and the impending arrival of the baby made her feel unprepared, no matter how many books and blog posts she had read. Because of that, it was no surprise to Niall that she wanted a quiet birthday. Lucy was never a fan of huge parties, especially the ones thrown in her honour. He proposed going away to their getaway house in Ireland, but she had insisted there were too many things to be done and overseen here, so he didn’t push, not wanting to make her even more stressed or upset. He did however make sure she hadn’t done anything unnecessary that day. Bringing her waffles and tea to bed in the morning, staying wrapped up in each other until midday, spending the next few hours cocooned on the couch, talking and watching tv, catching up on the lost time while they were apart.

However, when it was nearing the evening, he did ask her to get ready, saying he had something special planned.

“If you threw me a party, I’ll kill you,” she said while walking down the stairs, ready to go out. She knew it wasn’t dinner, because they had eaten not too long ago, Niall cooking her favourite of his while she admired him at work from the kitchen counter. He just chuckled, refusing to give her any hints.

But he did throw her a surprise party. Well, maybe not necessarily a party, more like a gathering. He got all of 1D with their better halves, their friends, her parents, Mia and Natalia, his own parents, even few of the people she’s been working closely with at the tennis management. The place wasn’t too crowded, filled with people she knew and appreciated. The music wasn’t too loud, you could easily have a conversation without screaming at each other. There was a bar, but not a proper dancefloor, just a little free space in case anyone wanted to bust a move, which eventually they did.

It was special, a perfect night to finish off the perfect day, the gesture making her cry more than once (which was fine, because at least she could blame it on the hormones). She trusted Niall completely and moments like those just proved how he truly knew her, giving her the perfect balance of what she wanted and what he knew she’d enjoy.

But now it was nearing 5am and she was lying awake, over half an hour since she woke up. She was uncomfortable. Huffing and throwing away the comforter because she was too hot, then growing cold mere minutes later. Not even her pregnancy pillow brought her any comfort tonight. She was just about to try getting up, when Niall stirred besides her, his eyes cracking open and his hand going to rub at her back as soon as he noticed she wasn’t asleep.

“Everything alright?” he asked, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah, I couldn’t settle comfortably and now I’m wide awake,” she explained.

Niall hummed, looking at her in the darkness, her eyes tired, brows furrowed. He could see she was stressed or anxious, like she had been most of the time lately. It made him worried. He tried his best to take as much burden off her as he could, especially now he was home.

“I’ll go make some tea and then give you a message, hmm, how’s that sound?” he asked, bumping her nose cutely.

“I’ll go with you,” she said, throwing the comforter off her body already.

“No, you relax, you’ve been on your feet half the night, you should rest.”

“I need to stretch, I’m too uncomfortable now,” she reasoned, which made him give up easily, ready to help her up right away.

They went downstairs holding hands, because that’s just how they usually walked, him not really letting her do anything beside walking around the kitchen to stretch her limbs, before going back to bed, Niall refusing to even let her carry a cup.

“I know you’re tired because of the house and the pregnancy hasn’t exactly been easy on you, but there’s something else also troubling you, I can tell,” he said, as soon as they were settled into bed, Lucy propped against the headboard, while he sat cross legged in the middle, facing her.

When he woke up, she didn’t expect him to stay up with her. They went to sleep just a few hours before. Sure, he only had two beers last night, saying he was gonna keep her company in the sober club, even though she insisted she was fine with him having some drinks. So he wasn’t even buzzed anymore, but it was 5 am, he must have been tired. And yet, he was ready to stay up with her, have tea and an actual conversation, just because she couldn’t sleep. That was love, gestures like those only made her appreciate him more and more.

“It’s just a lot, I don’t know,” she shrugged, not really sure how to even explain her feelings. “I’m anxious about the baby, I wish we were done with the house already and… I just… I don’t know what to do with the training centre.”

“Well, the house is almost ready and I’m back now, I can handle most of it. Especially the packing, you’ll just sit and give me orders and I’ll get it all done, don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. It’s not good for you nor our little bub,” he marked his words with a gentle hand rubbing her swollen stomach. “And what’s up with the centre? You’ve been having quite a few meetings about it lately, yeah?”

“Yes and if I was going to pull out, I’d need to do it now.”

He sat up a bit straighter, looking at her confused. “Wait, why the hell would you pull out? I thought you were excited about it.”

“I was, yeah, but…” Lucy huffed, playing with a loose thread in the comforter. “Just how will it work? I was hoping to get it done at the end of this year or the start of the new at the latest, but with a kid.. I don't know, I can't do it all.”

“Hey, it’s alright,” he scooted closer, noticing she was starting to get upset and placing a calming hand on her knee. “You’re not alone in it, love. I’m here,” he assured with a small smile. “And I know I’ve been busy, touring and all, but I’m home now. I’m here for you, we’re in this together, yeah? You’re never alone with anything.”

“Maybe i should just postpone it. Wait a year or something.” She shrugged again, looking down, her eyes unfocused.

He licked his lips, thinking of the best response. “You can if you want to. But if not, we can make it work now.”

Lucy finally raised her head, meeting Niall’s eyes, the look he was giving her nothing but gentle. “I’m just scared that if i put it off now, it’ll never happen,” she admitted. “Because then it’ll probably be another kid, I really doubt we’re gonna be done with one, and just… it’ll fade away.”

“No, I won't let it, love,” he was quick to assure her, grabbing her hands in his and squeezing. “I know you want it. And if you want it now, we’ll make it happen. Or if you want to wait half a year, or less or more, you’ll do it then. But I’ll make sure it’ll happen for you.”

Lucy’s lip started wobbling and tears began streaming down her cheeks. Niall reached to wipe them right away, letting go of one of her hands, but still holding the other.

When she calmed down, he asked, “Tell me how do you see it anyway? I know you want to be involved in it, not just set it up, but do you want to just generally oversee it or train someone or… I don’t know.”

“Umm… I think oversee mostly,” she said. “Pop in to see how everything’s going. Talk to people, trainers, players… everyone. Conduct training from time to time, but not really regularly. Taking on a player would be too much for me.”

“Well, couldn’t you do it now?” he asked, giving her a look of confidence. He was always the one who brought her courage when her own ran out. “Like, even soon after our little bug is born, you’d be gone for a couple of hours tops, not everyday,” he explained. “I think it’d be alright. Might even be good for you.”

“What about the band? Aren’t you planning another album? Another tour?” She asked, not exactly sold on the idea. It was something she’s been turning over in her head, trying to come up with a perfect plan, but she wasn’t sure it existed.

He shook his head. “There’s gonna be a little version of us both super soon and you expect me to leave for months upon months? No chance.” She chuckles, hitting his arm lightly to make him be serious. “There are plans, yes, we for sure want to continue, but not right away. I mean, we’ll probably pop into the studio from time to time, but no schedule, we just want to relax right now. Put our families first. We’re having a baby. It’s technically a secret, but El’s pregnant as well. Harry is getting engaged…”

Lucy squeaked in excitement at all those news. “What? El’s having a baby? That’s amazing. And Harry! Finally! Did he get a ring?”

Niall grinned, finally seeing his wife happy and excited making him feel a bit lighter. “Yeah, showed us like a month ago, fingers crossed he’ll actually man up and pop the question.”

She giggled. “That’s crazy. Maya has told me that she and Liam had talked about trying for a little one as well. Ahh can you imagine our kids being so close in age?”

His face matched her grin. “They’d be best friends.”

“Definitely.”

“But, to get back on topic, I’ll be staying put for the foreseeable future. Ready to take care of you and our bug and everything. So do your thing, don’t be scared, please. You know we’ll work it out.” He moved to his knees to get close enough to plant a gentle kiss on her lips.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, love. I’m your husband, no thank yous needed.”

“Yeah, but I still want to thank you,” she marked her words with another kiss. “For being the best husband and the best teammate ever.”

“You don’t have a lot of experience with teammates though, right?” Niall pointed out with a chuckle. “With tennis being an individual sport and all…”

“Yeah yeah, alright, here’s my trying to be nice and you ruining it. Just like always.”

He laughed, wrapping his arms around her body and bringing her flush to him. “I love our little team of three.”

Lucy went in for yet another kiss, having to agree with him.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall @awomanindeniall @soullikestyles @bopbopstyles

#dtl #1dff #one direction fanfiction #niall horan fanfiction #one direction fan fiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan oneshot #one direction one shot #down the line

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years

Text

Behind the Family - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 1)

You and Harry first met in Behind the Album, where you tried to keep your attraction out of your business relationship, but that didn’t work. In Behind the Tour, you tried keeping your relationship private, but that didn’t work especially when you had to tell the world you were married. Then in Behind the Marriage, you two had to face the consequences of your decisions, as well as becoming new parents. Now, in Behind the Family, we see what it’s like raising a family in the spotlight over the years.

2020

“So, do you have everything?” You asked holding a four month old Ameila and Finneas on your hips.

“No,” he sighed looking at you with puppy dog eyes.

“Harry,” you sighed. “We’ve been through this. The babies are too young to travel right now and be shuffled all over the place while you’re busy in NYC. And I’m not leaving them with your mother for weeks at a time, that’s not fair.”

“I know, I know,” he sighed taking Amelia from you and holding her close him. She smiled cuddling into his chest when he kissed her head. “It’s going to be hard being away from my family.”

You sighed walking closer to him, “I know, but I’ll facetime you as much as possible, we’ll watch your performances online and you’ll be home before you know it. We just went through this a few months ago.”

He nodded wrapping his free arm around you, “I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too,” you smiled leaning up to kiss him.

You followed him out to his car where he put the rest of his luggage, still holding Amelia. Finn nuzzled in your neck as he gripped onto your shirt. You smiled down at him before looking over at Harry. He was tickling Amelia’s little tummy as she giggled. You walked closer to him as he put Amelia into the car seat before he took Finn in his arms.

“Now, you look after your Mum and sister, okay, little man?” He smiled bopping his nose.

Finn let out a babble and a drooling smile at his Daddy. Harry smiled kissing his head before walking to put him in the other car seat. You got into the passenger’s side while Harry got in the driver’s and headed out to the airport.

When he arrived, Harry parked the car at the departure area and the two of you got out. You could see his eyes were a bit watery and you were trying to hold back tears of your own. He wrapped his arms around your waist, while you wrapped your arms around his neck. He picked you up slightly as he held you tightly against him.

“God, I’m going to miss you,” he whispered into your neck.

“Not as much as I’m going to miss you,” you whispered sadly. “I’m going to have to change all the shitty diapers myself.”

He laughed, “I promise once I’m back I’ll do them all.”

“You better,” you giggled. “But am I really going to miss you.”

“I know,” he smiled. “When I get back, we’ll have a date night.”

You smiled pressing your lips against his. He smiled into the kiss before pulling away.

“Call me as soon as you can,” you whispered.

“Still won’t be soon enough,” he said.

“You get so fucking cheesy whenever you leave,” you giggled.

“I’m always fucking cheesy,” he laughed.

“Good point,” you laughed.

He sighed, “I better get my shit and go,” he said.

“Not yet,” you said holding him tighter.

He kissed the top of your head and held you for a few more seconds before pulling away. He got his luggage out of the car and watched you get into the driver’s seat. He gave one last wave to the babies in the backseat and blew a kiss to you before walking into the airport.

It’s been a few days since Harry’s been away and you were beyond missing him. During the day, you were okay, mostly because you were distracted by taking care of the babies, the needs around the house, and getting some freelance work done. However, once your body was at rest and you were ready for bed his absence was really apparent.

You were laying in bed with a face mask on, while you were watching a movie and painting your nails. The babies were fast asleep and would be for most of the night. Your phone starting ringing and you quickly saw Harry’s name across the screen.

“Shit!” You said grabbing it with your good, not yet painted hand, and answered it.

“There’s my sexy husband,” you smirked looking into the screen.

“And there’s my beautiful, yet slightly scary wife,” he laughed.

You looked at him confused, but then you realized you still had your face mask on. “For fuck’s sake, give me a minute,” you said hopping off the bed and going into the bathroom.

You could hear Harry laughing, “Shut up!” you groaned. “Tell me how your day is going so far.”

“It’s going well,” he said. “Rehearsals are good, I’ve had some good interviews today. I’m going to have to call it early night tonight though. Today show is tomorrow.”

“Oh, boy,” you laughed. “Maybe you should set your alarm with a baby crying and then you’ll get up.”

He laughed, “That’s an idea, but I’d just make me miss them even more.”

“Well, you’ll be home in a few days.” you said.

“Actually,” he sighed. “We’ve got another secret show added over the weekend and I’ve got another interview scheduled on Monday.”

“Seriously?” You sighed looking into the phone.

“Yes,” he nodded. “My team tried to get everything pushed up earlier, but everything was booked up.”

“You have to do what you have to do,” you said. “But I won’t lie and say it doesn’t suck. I miss you. I’d never thought I would say this bed is too big.”

“I know, baby,” he sighed. “I don’t like being away from you and the babies and I almost said no, but with the Music Video dropping on Friday, I need the promo.”

“I understand,” you nodded.

“How are my babies?” He asked. “Do they realize I’m gone?”

“In a way,” you said. “They love laying on your side of the bed. I was doing laundry this morning and they pulled one of your shirts out of the basket and snuggled with it.”

“They did not,” he laughed.

“They did! I took a picture for evidence,” you laughed. “Quite frankly, I’m a bit upset with myself that I didn’t think of that.”

He laughed, “You can sleep in my shirts while I’m gone.”

“Now, why would I do that when I can sleep naked,” you smirked.

“No, no,” he said shaking his head at you. “Don’t be doing that shit unless you’re willing to finish it.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you smirked.

“Like bloody hell you aren’t,” he said. “Half your boob is fucking hanging out of your robe.”

“No, it’s not,” you said looking down. “Oh, well, I didn’t exactly plan that. It just happened.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that,” he said.

You stuck your tongue out at him, “Anyway, feel free to call us before you go on in the morning, if you have time. I’m sure the babies would love to see Daddy before he goes on stage.”

“Fuck, I can’t wait until they get to see me on stage for real,” he smiled. “I can’t wait to look out in the crowd and see their little faces.”

“Well, seeing as how you don’t ever get on stage until after nine, they probably won’t see much,” you laughed.

“There’s always soundcheck,” he laughed.

“True,” you nodded.

He sighed, “I bet let you go, so you can get to bed.”

“Okay,” you sighed. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he smiled.

You smirked, “Wait, before you go...” you smirked quickly opening your robe for a quick sneak peek. “Something to remember me by.”

“Bloody hell, you’re trying to kill me woman,” he groaned.

“Nope, not at all,” you giggled. “Talk to you later!”

“Goodnight, baby,” he said.

“Night!” You smiled.

The next day you luckily woke up before the babies, so you were able to jump into the shower quickly to start your day. Once you were dressed, you checked in on them and then went downstairs to make yourself some breakfast. You decided on a smoothie and go everything you needed out and through it into the blender. You poured into a glass and sipped on it a bit before turning on the TV.

You knew it was still at least an hour or two before Harry would be on, but you wanted it to be on and ready. When you had finished your smoothie, you went up to get the babies. Both of them were babbling away at each other as they laid in their cribs. You smiled wondering what they were talking about.

“Morning babies,” you smiled. “Let’s get you two changed and ready to start the day. Daddy should be calling us soon.”

At the mention of daddy, both of them started moving around happily in their cribs and babbling. You giggled picking up Finn and changing him before doing the same for Amelia. You then took them downstairs and sat them in their chairs. You got some bottles from the fridge and put them in the bottle warmer while you mashed up some bananas and baby oatmeal to bring over to them.

They practically jump up and down in their seats when you bring the bowl over.

You giggled, “Are you two hungry?”

You held out a scoopful of of the banana and oatmeal mixture in front of Amelia’s mouth. She eagerly opened wide.

“Mm. Isn’t that yummy,” you smiled scooping up some more to give to Finn.

You were halfway finished with feeding them the bowl of oatmeal when your phone started to ring. You quickly took it out of your pocket, smiling at seeing Harry’s name, and slid to answer it.

“Good morning!” You smiled when it finally connected.

“Morning, love,” he smiled.

The babies gasped, hearing the sound of Harry’s voice an started babbling. You giggled turning to the phone towards them. They whined reaching out towards the phone.

“There are my adorable little babies,” he smiled. “Hi, babies! It’s Daddy! Look at you! Is that nanas on your faces?”

You laughed, “Yeah, they’re eating breakfast,” you smiled.

“Aw they’re getting so big,” he groaned.

“Are you calling my babies fat?” You gasped.

“Never,” he laughed. “Just they look older.”

The twins continue to whine and babbled towards the phone.

“Aww, I miss you, too babies,” he sighed. “Daddy will be home soon. I promise.”

“When do you go on?” You asked.

“About half hour?” He said.

You nodded “Well, your biggest fans can’t wait!”

“Is that right?” He smiled. “Are you ready to see Daddy on stage?”

The babies giggle and clap their hands together.

“I don’t care if they don’t even know what I’m talking about, but I’ll take that response as a yes,” he laughed.

You smiled, “You’re going to do great and we’ll be watching. I’ve already got it on,” you said showing him the tv.

“That’s my girl,” he smiled with a yawn.

“Uh-oh, that’s not good,” you laughed. “How long have you been up?”

“Too fucking long,” he groaned.

“Not in front of the babies!” you groaned.

“They don’t know what I’m saying!” He defended.

“Yeah, you say that and then in a few months they’ll be dropping the f-bomb as their first word,” you rolled your eyes.

“Hey, at least it’d be memorable. A story to tell,” he smirked.

“Whatever,” you laughed.

He sighed looking to the side, “Well, baby, I have to go,” he said. “I’ll try to call you again later, but if I don’t get a chance, I’ll text you.”

“Okay, sounds good,” you smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you, baby,” he smiled. “And I love my babies!”

They giggle again. You smiled kissing their heads, “Now, go and do your thing on stage!”

“Yes m’am,” he smirked.

After the phone call ended, you cleaned up the babies and brought them over to the couch in the living room. A few more commercials later, Harry was brought out on stage and the babies started bouncing in your lap. You giggled putting them onto the couch and grabbing your phone. They were babbling and drooling, but their eyes remained focused on the tv.

“Welcome back, Harry. We’re so happy you could join us here at the Today Show,” the host smiled.

“Thank you for having me again. I’m excited to be here,” he smiled.

“Now, before we get to the performance, do you mind if we have a little chat?” they asked.

“Of course not,” he smiled.

“You recently released your second album, Fine Line, back in December, correct?” they asked.

“I did, yes,” he nodded.

“And it’s done so well. It just hit platinum here in the US and it was first number one album of 2020. Did you expect that sort of reaction or success when you wrote this album?” they asked.

“Um, no, I mean, when I sit down to write a song or work on an album as a whole, I don’t go into it thinking “oh, I’ve got make to sure this is gonna sell or gonna be number one,” I go into it thinking I just wanna write something I’m proud of and I’m really proud of this record, so seeing the reaction to it is just an added bonus,” he answered.

“Another thing I want to ask about before you perform, if you don't mind, is that you and your wife had twins a few months ago, is that right?” they asked.

“We did,” he smiled.

“Well, congratulations,” they smiled. “How’s fatherhood treating you? Do you find it hard to balance with your career?”

“Thank you,” he smiled. “Um, I love it. I love every single second of it. They’re adorable and I just they’re the best thing that’s every happened to me. But uh, yeah, it’s a taking getting used to with traveling. I mean ever since I was sixteen I’ve been traveling on tour and was away from family, you know, so I’m used to that. And my wife was on tour with me last time, but traveling just these last couple of times since they were born has been some of the hardest things I’ve experienced. Don’t get me wrong, I love being here, seeing the fans, and putting on a show, but I miss my family.”

“Oh, I bet that’s hard,” they nodded. “Will they join you on tour?”

“Well, I’m hoping. They’ll be just about six months when our first show takes place, but we still have some details to sort out,” he said.

“Thank you again, Harry for being here and we congratulate you both on the wonderful success of your album and your new family,” they smiled.

“Thank you, thank you very much,” he smiled.

You smiled as you watched the interview and the babies got excited as the first song started to play. You wanted to watch the performance, but you wanted to capture the twins watching their daddy. You smiled as they started moving their heads around with wide eyes and smiles. They clapped their little hands together as they babbled.

When the song was over, you turned the camera on yourself and smiled, “Good job, Daddy.”

It was the middle of the night when the car dropped Harry off at home. He had taken a flight out as soon as he was finished with his final interview. He hadn’t told you his arrival time because he wanted to surprise you. Of course, you would be asleep, but he couldn’t wait to get home tomorrow. He had missed his family too much.

He got his suitcases out of the car and went to the door, unlocking it and walking inside. He put his bags down in the living room shutting the door and then heading upstairs. He wanted to see the babies first, walking into nursery. He smiled seeing them fast asleep in their cribs. He fought the urge to pick hm up and hold them in his arms pressing kisses against their little faces and hands. He knew you would kill him if he woke up them up.

“Night babies,” he whispered. “I love you.”

He walked out of the room and into the bedroom. You were laying on your stomach on his side of the bed, cuddled up with his pillow. He smiled walking over towards the bed and sitting down. He hated to wake you, but he didn’t want to just get in the shower and the bed freaking you out.

“Baby,” he whispered. “Y/N, baby, wake up.”

You mumbled something, turning around and opening you eyes. You sat up quickly, rubbing your eyes thinking they were playing tricks on you because there was your husband.

“You’re home?” You smiled.

“I’m home!” He smiled.

“Ah!” You giggled wrapping your arms around him before pressing your lips against his.

He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around you, holding you tightly against him.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he whispered pulling away from the kiss and putting his forehead on yours.

“I missed you, too,” you smiled. “I can’t believe you’re finally home.”

“Well, you better believe it,” he smiled. “I’m officially home until tour starts.”

“Yay!” You smiled.

He smiled, “As much as I love this and don’t want to let you go, I really need a shower and sleep. So, why don’t you go back to sleep and I’ll be right out.”

“Or I could join you,” you smirked.

“Oh, really now?” He asked.

“Do you really think I’d be able to go back to sleep now?” You asked.

He laughed, “Well, then let’s go.”

You laughed following him into the bathroom. He turned on the water as the two of you got undressed before stepping inside. He stood under the water letting it rinse away all the traveling funk while you got the bottle of body wash.

“What are you doing?” He asked raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, nothing, just taking care of my man,” you smirked pouring some body wash onto the wash cloth before running it over his body.

You moved your hand over his body slowly as he watched you. When you were finished, you had him stand back underneath the water to rinse all the soap away.

“There all clean,” you smiled.

“You forgot my hair,” he smirked.

“Well, you’re going to have to kneel down for that,” you said.

He laughed doing as you said and smirking when he was staring at your chest, in which he placed his hands.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

“Hey, you felt me up, so it’s only fair I return the favor,” he smirked.

“I did not feel you up,” you said innocently. “I was simply helping you out after you were on a plane for like eight hours.”

“Call it whatever you want, baby,” he laughed.

“Anyway, you can rinse now,” you smiled.

He stood up, putting his head underneath the shower head. You two then got out of the shower, dried off, and got into bed. He opened his arms for you, which you gladly entered. He kissed the top of your head and smiled.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Thank you for taking care of everything while I was gone.”

“You’re welcome,” you smiled. “I told you I’ve got this. Doesn’t mean I like when you’re gone, but I can make it work.”

“Oh, and I love you, too,” you added.

He smiled kissing you one more time quickly before the two of you cuddled up together and fell fast asleep.

Okay! Here is the first part of Behind the Family! With this series, it won’t be something that’s updated regularly I.e. every week. Since I only plan on doing max of 20 parts, there will be some fast forwarding here and there, leading up to where I left off on the epilogue - which was 20 years later!

#One Direction Imagines #Harry Styles Imagines #Behind the Family

167 notes · View notes

let-me-write-shit · 4 years

Text

Somebody To You: 6

Friendly reminder to please Like and/or Reblog. It helps more than you think! :)

This chapter is more of a filler, but it’s got some really important details in it.

Word Count: 2,857

Click Here For Previous Chapter & Other Completed Stories

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CHAPTER SIX

It’s been a long two weeks. Between work and friends, Zoey didn’t feel like she had any days off to relax. Ever since their double date, Brett and Zoey have been hanging out a lot more. It seemed like he was over practically every day to hang out with her and her roommates. He’d occasionally come over before his shift started, but more often than not it was late at night after she got off to have a game night, and Nancy and Rory would wait up for them to join. The girls quickly became fond of him and formed a friendship much like hers with Harry.

They were all constantly making plans to hang out, and although she had so much fun with them, Zoey felt like she rarely had a moment to herself anymore. The only time she felt like she had a minute to breathe or think was her morning phone calls with Harry. Sure, they texted occasionally throughout the day, but that phone call was the time when both of them could sit down, talk, and reflect on what was going on in their lives.

Harry seemed to be going through a rough patch. She missed him before he left the last time he came out as he had to be up super early the following morning so he didn’t miss his flight, but he did call Zoey when he landed to fill her in on the details of the conversation she caught him and Rory having.

Rory was honest with him and told him how she felt. She liked him, but she didn’t want to be with someone who wasn’t sure if they wanted to be with her. She understood his hesitation because of his past experiences with relationships while on tour, but she didn’t appreciate being grouped in the same category with his exes. She told Harry that she had no problem waiting if that’s what he wanted, but only if he was sure he wanted her. Otherwise, he’s just wasting her time.

“I’m not giving you an ultimatum or making you choose right this second because that’s not fair,” Rory said to him, “I’ll give you some space and time to figure it out. We can still talk and be friendly in the meantime, but I’m not going to wait forever.”

No one could fault her, and Zoey respected the hell out of her for standing her ground and noticing her own self-worth, but Harry was really struggling to decide what he wanted to do. To him, it wasn’t as simple as it was for most people. He has eyes on him at all times. Not only does he have to navigate the ups and downs of a relationship, but he has to do so in the public eye. He had to find a way to protect the sanctity of his relationship from the press and people with malicious intent and he had to somehow find a way to shield his partner from negative media and online attention because the hate is inevitable. To him, relationships were terrifying.

Zoey helped by listening to his rants and concerns, offering bits of advice, but always remaining neutral. No matter how many times Harry asked her what he should do, Zoey refused, telling him it was his decision to make while always reminding him to stop overthinking everything and to live the life he wanted without worrying about what might go wrong. Easy for her to say. She’s not famous.

Luckily, Rory kept her word in not putting any pressure on him to make a decision. They still spoke and flirted every now and then, though it wasn’t as often as before. Most of their conversations these days consisted of work-related things or Rory filling him in on all of the fun she was having with the girls, Andy, and Brett. She was spending a lot more time with Zoey’s new friends, and from what Rory said, it sounded like Zoey was having a lot of sleepless nights with Brett.

Zoey’s sex life was never really a topic of discussion when they spoke. She never really went into detail or stayed on the subject no matter how much Harry tried to pry. Of course, he knew they saw each other, but the only reason he knew when Brett spent the night was because Nancy or Rory mentioned hanging out with him and how he stayed over. During their text conversations, Zoey always seemed so nonchalant and never alluded to the fact that Brett was even there. She didn’t care to talk about their ‘relationship’ much, and he couldn’t tell if it was because she was trying to hide the fact that she was actually falling for him, or because she really didn’t care and it was just as casual as she intended it to be. The only thing Harry managed to get out of her was that she wasn’t a fan of his kissing. Either way, she was great at keeping her private life private, which was something he respected, all things considered.

Finally, it was Friday, and the last week of May, so Andy, Brett, and Zoey decided to go to the beach early in the morning so they had enough time before work tonight. Nancy and Rory tagged along, for once not having any work they needed to do. The sun beamed brightly, not a cloud in sight. It was only 80 degrees. Not too hot, not too cold. It was the perfect beach day. Andy helped Zoey apply suntan lotion to her back as Nancy and Rory sprayed each other down and Brett didn’t bother, laying out everyone’s towels on the hot, golden sand beside their beach bags.

At first, the group stayed on their towels, letting the sun warm up their skin and adjust to the temperatures. Eventually, Nancy, Zoey, and Andy made their way to the water, leaving Brett and Rory to tan. They eased their way into the ocean until waist level, waves whipping at their hips. An hour in and they had gotten more comfortable, diving underwater, laughing as they pretended to be mermaids, screeching whenever seaweed brushed against their legs and sputtering as the salty water had gotten into their mouths. Rory and Brett had finally joined them, but it didn’t take long before they all headed back to their setup, letting the sun dry them off.

The beach had always been Zoey’s happy place. She had always been the happiest in the water. It’s why she was on the swim team in school and why she frequently slept at Jess’s house to enjoy her pool. Her parents used to call her their little fish when she was a kid because she could be in the water all day. Jess was the first to get her license, and every day off in the summer since Jess turned sixteen, she’d drive the two of them to the beach just for Zoey. It was nearly a three-hour drive just to get there. They’d be up and out the door by 6 AM just so they could be there by 9, and wouldn’t leave until long after the sun had set just to do it all over again the next day. Every now and then they’d get lucky enough to rent a hotel, but they never complained about the drive. It was worth it to Jess if it made Zoey happy. It became their tradition to see how many times they could make it down to the beach in one summer and if they could top it. It’s been a year since she’s been to the beach. And it’s just as amazing as she remembers it being.

Brett had brought a football and they all were tossing it around to each other in an unofficial game of football. Zoey screamed as he ran up, scooping her into his arms and tackling her into the sand, laughing as sand shot up into their face from the impact on the ground and covered their bodies.

“Absolutely not! I saved that!” Zoey exclaimed, lightly smacking Brett’s sweaty, back as he pushed himself off of her.

“Tell that to the ball on the ground,” Brett shot back, panting and scooping a heaping pile of sand onto her stomach in retaliation causing Andy and Rory to laugh.

A ringtone was heard in the distance by their towels and Nancy called back, “Someone’s phone is ringing!” as she jogged towards their stuff, rummaging through the bags. She pulled out Zoey’s phone, looked at the screen and held it up, calling, “It’s Harry!”

“Answer it!” Zoey called back, standing up and dusting the sand off of herself.

Nancy plopped down on the towels as everyone slowly caught their breath, making their way over towards her. She answered the phone on speaker and put on her best stern voice, “How come you never call me?”

“Who’s this?” she heard Harry’s muffled voice from a few feet away, “Nancy?”

“I’m clearly Susan Sarandon. You can’t tell by my voice?” she joked as Andy, Brett, and Rory had sat around her, the rumble of voices and children laughing surrounding them.

Harry laughed, ignoring her, “That’s a lie. I just called you yesterday!”

“That’s true. What’s up?”

“Nothing much, going to be heading to soundcheck soon. Where’s Zoey?”

“Here!” Zoey called, finally reaching the edge of the towels, hovering over everyone.

“Where are you? It sounds loud?” Harry asked.

“We’re at the beach,” Nancy spoke, “Everyone’s here except you. Me, Zoey, Rory, Andy, and Brett.”

“Am I on speaker?”

“Yeah, say hi!”

The group sang a chorus of greetings while Harry responded an almost shy “hello” back. Zoey smiled, extending her hand out and grabbing her phone as Nancy passed it over to her. She placed it to her chest and turned to Brett, softly saying, “Hey, I’m getting hungry. Can you grab us some lunch? I’ll pay you back.”

“Yeah, no worries. I can pay. Anyone want to come with?”

“I’ll go!” Nancy offered, standing up.

“Yeah, I’ll help,” added Rory.

Andy scoffed, “My ass is staying right here. But I will take a slice of pepperoni pizza, please,” he slid his sunglasses back onto the bridge of his nose and slid back onto his beach chair.

As soon as the three were off, Zoey took her phone off speaker and brought it to her ear, walking towards the dunes where there were fewer people and it was slightly quieter.

“Sorry, I’m here,” she spoke, “they’re gone.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t mean to interrupt. You can get back to them.”

“Shut up,” Zoey laughed, dragging her feet in the sand as she spoke, “What’s up?”

“We were going over the next few cities we’ll be in, and guess where I’ll be next weekend,” Harry said excitedly.

“New York?” Zoey guessed.

“Well, yeah. But I’ll also be in Philadelphia next Saturday.”

“Philly?” Zoey gasped, halting in her tracks, “You’ll be maybe twenty minutes from my family.”

“It’s that close? Where did you live?”

Zoey sat in the sand, knees to her chest, and told Harry about her hometown and where she grew up. She scooped sand in her free hand and watched as it fell to the ground like a sand shower as she recalled memories of her and Jess running around their town as teenagers and all of the trouble they got into. And Harry listened, interested in every detail.

Somehow they got onto the subject of Zoey’s past childhood boyfriends, where she had her first kiss and her first heartbreak. This eventually led to a conversation about Brett. It’s not that she avoided talking about Brett, but there was nothing to really say about him. They hung out. They screwed. That was it for the most part. Except there was a little news about him this time.

“He asked me on another date,” Zoey informed him.

“What, a double date again?”

“No, one on one.”

Harry paused in thought before speaking, “I’m confused. I don’t get what’s going on between you two.”

Zoey laughed, “I don’t either.”

He continued, “I mean, you say it’s just a casual thing. Hanging out and fucking around. So what’s the point in going on a date if that’s all it is? Or is it more than that?”

Zoey pursed her lips and blew hard, making a horse snorting sound before groaning and resting her head on her forearm that was resting on her knees, “I don’t know. I don’t think it’s more than that, but it seems like it’s getting more serious. I mean he stays over so often we should start charging him rent. I feel like I see him more than Nancy and Rory between work and home.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” Harry asked, curiously.

“I don’t know,” she whined, sitting back up, “The girls love him and he’s a lot of fun. And he’s getting better at the kissing thing. I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s still work to do, but he gets the job done if you know what I mean. Oh my god, speaking of,” Zoey started cackling to herself, “we got caught yesterday.”

“What do you mean ‘you got caught’?” Harry chuckled at the vagueness.

“At work.”

“At work?!” Harry repeated, the sound of shuffling could be heard from his end as if he had quickly sprung up from a seat.

She nodded to herself, wiping away a tear that teetered at the corner of her eye, which was probably a mistake because she now felt sand on her cheek, remembering the incident last night.

“Oh shit! My bad!” Andy apologized to her, shoving the beer bottles he carried into the crook of her arm and wiping at the wet spot he had left on Zoey’s black shirt when he collided into her after she suddenly appeared from the storage closet. “I was looking for you. You alright? You look like you’ve been crying.” He asked, noticing her flushed face and loose strands of hair dangling from her messy bun.

The storage closet door suddenly opened beside them and Brett stepped out, forehead beaded with sweat, hair tousled, lips red raw, straightening out his shirt. Brett paused when he saw the two standing there, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. Andy’s eyes shot between the two as realization sunk in and he groaned.

“Jesus Christ!” Andy whispered, “Y'all are nasty!”

Brett chuckled and winks as he scooted past them, returning to the busy bar to finish off his shift.

“Sorry, Andy!” Zoey sheepishly smiled, biting her lip.

Andy shook his head, laughing in amusement, “At least one of us has a good sex life. Fix your hair. You look crazy,” he walked away.

Zoey shook her head, snapping back to the present and she chortled, trying to stifle her laughter as she looked over to see all of her friends back on the towels and enjoying their lunch together.

“It was just a quickie in the storage closet, but we ran into Andy on the way out and it was super embarrassing. I mean, at least it was just Andy and not our manager, but still,” she explained.

“You couldn’t wait a few hours?” Harry laughed.

Zoey giggled, “You gotta do what you gotta do.”

The two finished catching up and Zoey wished him good luck before ending the phone call and heading back to her friends. There was a slight burning feeling on her shoulder blade as the suntan lotion began to wear off and knew she’d have a sunburn tonight. She tossed her phone back in the beach bag and took a spot between Nancy and Rory while the group had laughed about something Andy had said.

Andy looked over at Zoey and smiled at her grin, “You and Harry talk a lot,” he noted.

“Yeah,” Zoey nodded, picking up her slice of pizza that had now cooled down, though had a little dusting of sand on the top, “We’ve been through a lot of similar situations, so it’s easy to talk to him about it.”

Andy nodded, understandingly, being the only one that knew of Jess. Aurora nodded in agreement, “I like how quickly our little friend group formed and how well we all get along.”

Nancy laughed, “Could you imagine we all hated each other?”

“Imagine them thinking I don’t hate them,” Andy joked, turning towards Zoey and scoffing which caused Nancy to pounce on him.

This caused an all-out war and Zoey laughed as Nancy chased Andy towards the water and Brett had practically dragged Rory behind them, letting Zoey finish her lunch, happy to be with friends. But she couldn’t help to feel that pang of sadness as she thought about how much Jess would have loved to be apart of this, too.

The realization hit, nearly knocking the wind out of her. In just over a week it would be Jess’s birthday. The one year anniversary of her best friend’s death. And the happiness she felt just moments before was replaced with gloom. How was she going to manage this?

KEEP READING

#Harry Styles #Harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fan fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan fiction #one direction #one direction smut #one direction imagine #one direction fanfic

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quadraphonictypewriter · 4 years

Text

Rushing Whispers Part 3/?

Read from the beginning or Part 2

May 21 & 22, 1970 ((approx. 5350 words))

Lily was peculiar in the morning. She insisted on cooking breakfast for me and my sister, and wanted to know our schedules for the day so she could align the meals for us. A chorus of “I don’t know” came from us when asked about our plans for the day. The weather seemed okay, but it could turn at any moment in Scotland, so there was no guarantee for sun.

“You could go to the coast and watch the ocean,” Lily suggested, but Liliane decided on a strong refusal of that offer.

“I think I’m going to just walk around and look at the architecture. I can’t get enough of it,” I told them. “You can do whatever you want, Lil.”

“Sure, no problem. Do you want to have lunch somewhere at two?”

Before I could answer, there was a loud knock on the door.

“Who could that be?” Lily asked rhetorically. She never answered the door between the milkman and the postman, the latter of whom we were not expecting for another hour.

My sister was the first to get up and go to the door. “We have to see who it is, auntie.”

“So, who is it?” I asked.

A snicker was all the answer I needed to go to the door and see for myself. Standing on the small raised porch was Cameron, a small gift box in hand. “Might I speak to Emily, please?” he asked softly.

I emerged from behind the living room partition and smiled. “Hi, Cameron. What brings you here?” Then, with a foot nudge to my sister, “Thanks for getting the door.”

She threw me a sidelong glance and left, but I didn’t trust the look on her face so I stepped outside and closed the door behind me.

“I was hoping you’d be here,” Cameron said before I could say anything else. “I got this for you. From the north.”

My smile grew wider as I accepted the gift. “Thank you, Cameron.” I gently opened the box and saw that inside was a small wooden carving of a highland cow. “This is very kind, thank you.”

Cameron looked bashful as he glanced to the ground and then back to the carving in my hands. “I saw it in an apprentice shop and thought you’d like it. A nice little memory of Scotland.”

“I have many memories of Scotland, now.”

His smile widened and the bashful look dissipated. “Would you like to come to breakfast with me?”

“Only if we can go to Donovan’s,” I replied. “I’ve heard they have delicious black pudding.”

“They do,” he told me with excitement.

“That’s settled, then. Let me go get my coat.”

I turned around and headed inside to grab my shoes and a light windbreaker. “Lily, I’m going to breakfast with Cameron, I’ll see you guys later!” I closed the door behind me without waiting for a response and turned to see Cameron holding his arm out to me.

“Shall we?”

“Do you usually go round to women’s houses this early in the morning?” I asked him jokingly once we had ordered our breakfast.

“No, only the ones I like.” Cameron winked at me and I felt myself redden. “The tour is quite nearly finished and I remembered you were leaving Scotland soon, so I wanted to come by and say hello.”

“Well, hello,” I answered with a cheeky smile.

Cameron laughed and asked when I would be leaving.

“Our flight is mid morning on the twenty-seventh,” I informed him. Honestly, since meeting and getting to know Cameron, I didn’t want to leave Scotland at all.

“A week from now.”

“Yes.”

The food arrived and we dug in, happily eating in silence for a few minutes.

“Might we see each other again? Before you leave?” he asked, seemingly unsure of himself.

I smiled reassuringly at him. “With your penchant for showing up at my doorstep, I’m sure we will.”

He chuckled softly. “I know it was a bit unexpected, but.. We have a show tonight at Malmaison Hotel and I wanted to see if you would like to come. Free of charge, of course.”

“That would be wonderful, I’d love to.” I could feel my cheeks burning for the second time this morning but tried not to let it bother me.

“Excellent, I’m glad. Do you know where the hotel is?”

“No, but I’m sure I could ask Lily..” I trailed off, not even sure if she would know of the Malmaison Hotel.

“No bother. I’ll come by to pick you up before soundcheck.”

“Sounds great,” I beamed.

Late Afternoon

All Cameron had told me of the band was that they played progressive rock, which suited me fine. I dressed up in clothes nicer than my usual jeans and respectable shirt; thankfully I had done some shopping while in Scotland and slipped on, a mini skirt and a semi-loose buttoned shirt with flaring sleeves. I glanced at myself in the mirror and decided that bare legs were a little too much.

I went to my sister’s room and knocked on the door.

“Hey, have you got any pantyhose?”

She gave my outfit one look and snorted. “What’s in town tonight? The circus?”

“I’m a lady at a prog rock concert, I can’t show up in old denim.”

“You usually do,” she persisted. “But I’ll see if I’ve got a pair.”

I waited at the threshold until she tossed a bundle at me.

“Tan would go best with that outfit,” Liliane suggested.

I thanked her and went back to my room, slipping on the pantyhose and heading downstairs to have a cup of tea.

By the time four o’clock rolled around, I was waiting anxiously for Cameron to show up. The curtains were open so I could see his car park and know when to step outside, so I wouldn’t have to deal with any more quips coming from my sister and Lily.

I sipped my tea while sitting on the sofa, my family chatting to each other. I ignored the comments I could hear coming from them and tried to keep calm. I was beginning to get nervous despite myself.

Before I could worry too much, a dark blue truck pulled up. I didn’t realize it was Cameron until he stepped out of the car and began to walk towards the door.

I stood and almost spilled my tea. I went to the front window, motioning to Cameron that I would be out in a moment. Suddenly very self conscious, I pulled the only footwear I had with me, some All-Stars, and frowned at the way they looked with the rest of my outfit. ‘Nothing to do about it now,’ I told myself.

I brought my cup into the kitchen and set it down on the counter. “I don’t know when I’ll be back, but keep the back door unlocked and I’ll just pop in.”

Lily scoffed and pointed to a small object on the table. “You think I’ll leave the door unlocked? The spare key. I’ll keep the front light on for you.”

I grabbed the key and thanked her as she and Liliane wished me a good time. I stepped outside and saw Cameron’s eyes widen when he saw my outfit.

“Is it too much?” I worried instantly.

He shook his head. “Not at all. I like it,” he added with a smile.

I smiled back, and we walked towards the truck. “What happened to your car?”

“The van?” He opened the passenger door for me. “The crew are still unloading the equipment from it. This is Clyde’s truck.”

“Clyde?” I asked when he walked around to the other side and sat in the driver's seat.

“He’s the drummer. He was at the pub when we first met, but you were never introduced,” Cameron explained.

“I guess there’s a first for everything.”

Cameron turned the key in the ignition and chuckled. “Yes, there is.”

We got to the venue not long after, chatting all the way to the hotel. Cameron had told me the names of his band mates, and told me that the band was the brainchild of himself and Willie.

We had seen the crew setting up the equipment on the short stage, surveyed over by some of the hotel staff. I suppose Cameron could feel my nerves because before opening the door to the backstage area, he took my hand in his and squeezed, giving me a reassuring smile.

“Thanks,” I said quietly as he opened the door and let me walk through first.

The change in atmosphere was not quite describable, but very palatable. One of the men huddled in the mass came up to us, cigarette in hand.

"So, Cameron, this is the lass you've borrowed my truck to pick up?"

"Clyde, this is Emily. Emily, Clyde."

"Hello," I said with a polite smile.

"Nice to meet you," Clyde said, before turning his attention to Cameron. "They need you on stage, something about your keyboards. I can't quite remember now, but I think they said a key fell off."

"Shit, alright. I won't be long, Emily. Make yourself comfortable." Cameron shot me a quick smile and left towards the stage.

"You look familiar," Clyde mentioned as he offered me a drink. I declined, but looked at all the bottles of alcohol and wondered, jokingly, where their personal distillery was located.

"We met in Garlogie, a couple weeks ago. At the pub," I explained.

"Ah yes, the raggedy girl. Well, nice to meet you officially."

We were standing in front of the group of about a dozen people, who it seemed all turned to look at me at the same time.

"Everyone, this is Emily. Cameron's girl."

'Cameron's girl?' I wondered what exactly he'd been telling them about me, but pushed the thought aside when a long haired woman hopped off the table she'd been sitting on and extended her hand to me.

I shook it and she introduced herself as Clyde's wife, Sylvia. This left Clyde to rejoin the group and light up another cigarette.

Sylvia brought me to the refreshment table and motioned to the homemade sandwiches. "I don't know if you've eaten yet, but these were made this morning by me and Darla," she explained. "You're welcome to eat and drink whatever you like."

"Thank you."

"How many of us have you met?" she asked happily.

"Not many," I admitted. "Cameron, obviously. You, Clyde, and Willie."

"Cameron is a sweetheart," she whispered to me, even though we were far from everyone else. "He does like you. And he's coming this way," she added, bouncing off back to the lounge chairs.

I looked to my left and saw that she was right. Cameron, wringing his hands, was walking towards me.

"I see you've met Sylvia."

"Yes, she's quite nice," I noted.

"It's almost time for soundcheck. Have you ever been this exposed to the makings of a concert?"

His cheeky smile made me smile back. "No, actually. The last concert I went to was last year, even. I missed the opener and barely made it in time for the first song."

"Shame," he noted. "At least tonight, this is another memory I can give you of Scotland."

The look on his face was hard to decipher, which made me think that maybe Sylvia was right. Maybe Cameron did feel about me how I felt about him.

"Did you get introduced to everyone?"

"No, just Sylvia and Clyde."

"Well, beside him is Willie, who you know, of course. He plays guitar. Our bassist Leroy is to his left. Then that's Dale, the-"

"Alright everyone, soundcheck is now," Willie stated with authority, interrupting us.

"Upright arse," Cameron said under his breath. Then, to me, "Come, let's go."

I'd never seen a soundcheck before, let alone one where I was practically a VIP. I stood by the side of the stage and watched as they began to play. Cameron's keyboards started off quietly and then grew to be the driving force of the song. Only when Dale started to sing about three minutes into the song did I realize this wasn't an instrumental.

They took less than fifteen seconds between each of the four songs they played. By the time they'd finished, nearly everyone on the stage was soaked with sweat.

"Did you like it?" Cameron asked as he walked up to me, leading me to the backstage area once more.

"It was great! I didn't know a keyboard could be played like that," I admitted. I snuck a glance at his collar, spotted with sweat. I felt a small shiver go through me but luckily, Cameron didn't notice.

"I'm glad you enjoyed it. Just wait until there's four hundred people here, we really rip it up," he added.

Cameron excused himself for a moment and stepped behind the free-standing room divider. I wondered what he was doing until he stepped out in a different shirt, coming up beside me as I poured myself a tea.

"Would you like one?" I asked.

"Yes, please."

I poured another cup and set it down in front of him. I watched out of the corner of my eye as he added two drops of milk and took a sip. He was still clammy but the change of clothes had reduced my desire to rip off his shirt, though not satiated it entirely.

"Come, let's sit."

I followed Cameron past the row.of chairs and tables into another room. I hadn't noticed the door earlier but it was obvious now, painted a different colour and had the words 'storage' written on it.

The 'storage' room was nothing like I expected. There were boxes, yes, but mostly just an empty room with a loveseat and a coffee table.

"A little unorthodox for a storage closet, isn't it?" I joked.

Cameron chuckled and smiled at me. "I asked to move this in here, I figured you might not want to have a dozen pairs of eyes looking at you all evening."

"That's very thoughtful," I said, setting my tea cup down on the table.

"Was I wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"No, no. I just wasn't expecting you to be so.. accommodating."

Cameron smiled once more. "Emily," he said, and when I looked at him, I could see the fire behind his eyes. He put a hand on my cheek and I hoped he could see behind my eyes as well.

He kissed me then, softly but eagerly. He pulled back too soon and I put my hands on his chest and leaned forward. I kissed him harder, and before I knew what was happening, we were entangled.

I pulled back after a moment and felt my cheeks a deep red.

"Cameron, I.."

"I'm sorry, Emily. I didn't mean to bring you here and force you into anything, I just-"

'He's nervous.'

"Cameron," I said with a smile. "I do like you."

Though he tried to hide it, his face lit up. Cameron sat down and ran his fingers through his hair.

“Relieved?” I asked with a laugh.

He looked at me with relief clear on his face. “Yes, actually.”

I sat down beside him and put my hand on his. “Did you think I’d reject you?”

He huffed and nodded slightly. “I wasn’t sure.. I haven’t always had the best of luck,” he admitted.

“Your honesty is endearing,” I whispered. “Can I kiss you again?”

“God, Emily,” Cameron said. “You don’t have to ask.”

I smiled shyly and scooted closer to him. We were facing each other and I held his hand in mine. Without thinking about it too much, I leaned forward and closed my eyes as I reached his lips with mine. The intimacy sent shocks through my body, as if I had been waiting all my life to be kissed by him. That wasn’t too far from the truth, though I had only been waiting about a week for him to do so.

Within minutes, we were entangled once again. My hands on the back of his neck, his hands on my waist. I prodded at his lower lip with the tip of my tongue and he responded by opening his mouth. I moaned quietly and I felt him chuckle against me. I’m sure he was fighting his desires as I was mine; all I wanted to do was pull him on top of me and take him.

I pulled away to brush the hair out of my face and push the thought from my mind. Cameron gazed at me as I did so and smiled.

“What is it?” I asked.

He looked down bashfully and I saw he was looking at my breasts.

“What, they’re peeking at you?” I giggled.

Cameron laughed. “I suppose they are,” he admitted.

I pondered for a moment but decided against taking my shirt off, in case anyone walked in and saw me straddling him in my bra. Instead, I placed his hand on my waist under my shirt and he began to thumb at the edge of my bra. My whole body was on fire.

I kissed him again, harder, and he responded with just as much voracity. His hands moved to the small of my back and I pushed myself against him. ‘They’re more than peeking at him, now,’ I said to myself.

Time seemed to stand still until we heard a knock at the door.

“It’s filling up, Cameron,” someone whose voice I didn’t fully recognize said through the door.

“Thanks, Geoff,” Cameron responded.

“I guess you want me to get off?” I said quietly.

“I don’t want that, no. But if I’m to play a show tonight, you’ll have to,” he answered cheekily.

I laughed and smiled shyly. I slid off of him and sat against the arm of the couch. I could see what I had felt just moments earlier, pressing against me. I suddenly became shy beyond words, and got quiet while Cameron fastened the two buttons at the top of his shirt.

“Are you alright, Emily?”

I hadn’t noticed he was looking at me, so his words surprised me. I looked up at him and smiled as best I could. “Yes, I was just thinking.”

“Did something I do upset you?” he asked worriedly. Cameron sat back down beside me and looked at me with concern.

“No, not at all, Cameron.” I tried to be as reassuring as possible. “I just..”

“You can tell me.”

“I thought it would never end.” I looked at him and saw the concern was still there. “In a good way,” I added.

He smiled and took my hand in his, squeezing. “Me too, Emily.”

We calmed ourselves down for a few minutes, but when the second knock on the door came we had no choice but to venture out. Sylvia winked at me and I blushed, which made her laugh loudly.

“Everyone else is behind the stage. You might want to join them, Cameron,” she told us.

Cameron snuck me a quick kiss on the cheek before darting off to join the rest of his band, leaving me with Sylvia.

“So?” she inquired when he was out of the room. “What happened?”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” I answered.

“Oh, so you kissed! I knew it!” she squealed.

“What, were there bets?” I asked jokingly. “When does the show start?”

“Almost,” she quipped. “And, it’ll start momentarily. We should go to the side now, actually.”

I followed her past the throngs of people to the best spot in the house.

“Do you want to see his ass or his face?” she asked me with a cheeky grin.

“Uh, I, um..”

“Kidding! Let’s go.”

We walked the last few steps to the designated viewing area for crew and entourage. ‘Face it is,’ I thought as I saw the set up. We were on the side with the guitar and bass, set to view the keyboardist from across the stage.

“I stand here, to see my husband better,” Sylvia told me as she settled into her viewing spot.

“You can see the whole crowd from here,” I noted in amazement.

“Never been side-stage before?”

“No,” I answered.

“It’ll be fun! I suggest you stand here,” she said, pointing to a spot about four feet from her. “You’ll be able to see better.”

“Thanks.”

Just as we finished speaking, the lights dimmed and the crowd roared. A solitary man came onto the stage and went to the microphone.

“Let’s welcome to the stage... Amoeba!”

The crowd’s roar grew and the rush of adrenaline I felt must have been nothing compared to Cameron’s as they came onto the stage. Each of the members raised a hand in their wave to the crowd. I caught Cameron’s eye and he winked at me as he began to play.

The concert was amazing, I’d never seen a crowd going wild like that. There seemed to be something in the air that made them go wild, hollering and dancing to the music. I found myself dancing as well. The songs were well written and had beautiful music, hard to explain without having heard them before.

The final note struck out and Dale’s “thank you! Good night!” echoed in the hall. Sylvia pulled me along with her to the backstage room, which the band entered at the same time.

The first thing I noticed was Cameron’s shirt, it was drenched with sweat and his hair was wet. He beamed when he saw me, and a smile lit up my face.

“That was incredible!” I exclaimed before he had the chance to say anything. He walked up to me and put a hand on my hip. The touch was electrifying.

“Glad you enjoyed it!” Cameron was obviously happy to see my positive reaction to the band, and that made me happier than I thought it would. He went to change his shirt again behind the room divider and I was glad, because I didn’t think I’d be able to keep my hands off him if I saw him sweaty and shirtless.

Once he emerged, he caught the attention of Clyde and they both nodded at each other. Cameron came up to me and asked if I had everything I came with.

“Yes. Why?”

“We’re going to go somewhere,” he told me.

When we got to Clyde’s truck, I realized the significance of what had happened inside. Cameron had asked to borrow the truck again. But where were we going?

I refrained from asking and instead decided to compliment him once we got into the truck. “I didn’t think you could play keyboards like that.”

“Me in particular, or just any old anyone?” he asked with a chuckle.

“Well, I have heard some great keyboards jams but nothing quite like yours.”

“Thank you,” he said genuinely.

“So, now that I’ve buttered you up,” I began, “where are we going?”

“I’ve something to show you. It’s an old building in Cairnie, maybe eight miles from here.”

The drive was short, maybe twenty minutes from Malmaison Hotel to the building Cameron spoke of.

“Is this a house?” I asked him incredulously as we got out of the truck. It looked like a miniature castle, built with stone and a large wooden door.

“Yes.”

“Whose is it?” I turned to look at him and he smiled.

“Mine.”

“Yours?” I repeated. I was surprised. “You live here?”

“Well,” he began as he unlocked the door. He pushed it open and beckoned me inside. “It’s my mother’s. But she’s given it to me unofficially. I haven’t spent much time here recently, what with the tour, but this is my home when we’re in the area.”

The inside was so grand I had trouble putting words to it. Cameron gave me the tour and excused himself to take a shower. I wandered the house while he showered, noting the layout of the house. The main floor had a sitting room, kitchen, and a bathroom, along with a bedroom and what seemed to be a music room.

I slowly walked up the stairs and saw two more bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom. It was quite something to take in, especially when my home was a small one bedroom apartment.

I went into the bedroom where Cameron was showering, resisting the urge to peek into the bathroom. I took my shoes off by the door and sat on the bed with my back against the headboard and my legs stretched out. I contemplated taking off my pantyhose, then I stood up and did so. I had just tossed them next to my shoes and sat back on the bed when Cameron emerged from the bathroom in a towel at his waist.

“Hi,” he said, surprised by my presence.

“Hello,” I giggled.

“Comfortable?” he asked, nodding to the pantyhose on the floor. Suddenly I felt very bare.

“Very,” I answered.

“I’ll just..” he began, looking around the room. “Ah, my jeans. I’ll just go put them on.”

Cameron grabbed what, at a quick glance, looked like boxers and a pair of jeans. He stepped back into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.

I wiggled my toes and decided that shaving my legs yesterday was a stroke of good luck.

“I didn’t bring you here to seduce you, or anything,” Cameron said. He was standing at the door of the bathroom and looking at me intently. “I suppose simply put, I wanted to spend time with you but not at the crummy hotel Geoff booked for the band.”

“That’s very sweet of you, Cameron. And, well, you’ve already seduced me.” I added in a quiet voice that was almost a whisper.

His face changed and he smiled. “I’m happy. I didn’t think I could be, but I am.” Cameron came to sit beside me on the bed and I turned to meet his gaze.

“Why didn’t you think you could be happy?”

He shook his head as he walked towards me. “A story for another day,” he reassured me. “But I am happy.”

“Me too.”

Cameron took the opportunity to kiss me, hard. I answered him and he lowered himself onto the bed beside me.. My hands went to his bare chest and he put his hands on my waist, his touch feeling electric. I knew that this time, with no one around to interrupt, I wouldn’t be stopped by a voice in my head.

I tried to make my intent clear with the ferocity of my kissing, but to make sure he got it I pulled away for a moment. He shifted to have his back against the headboard as I removed my bra and tossed it to the floor without removing my shirt.

“Emily, you don’t have to-”

“I want to,” I answered, moving to straddle him and grinding my hips into his.

I heard him gasp a little as I kissed his neck and he suddenly rolled me onto my back and pinned me down.

“Oh, you’re playing like that?” I asked rhetorically. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Cameron laughed and put his hands on my thighs. “You’re burning,” he noted.

“You should feel the rest of me,” I teased. “I’m on fire.”

He smiled at that and kissed me once more. I didn’t feel as though I was giving myself up to him, rather that we were both doing that for each other. I could tell he was as wanting as I was.

Soon, my skirt was on the floor and my shirt unbuttoned. He stared at my chest for a moment too long and I asked him if everything was okay.

“Everything is perfect. You’re perfect.” I blushed deeply and he put his hand on my cheek. “Don’t be shy, Emily.”

“Okay.”

Morning

Light was just coming in through the curtains when I woke. We had made love for hours, or so it seemed; there was no clock in the bedroom. Cameron woke when I shifted to my side and he spoke groggily.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning,” I answered. I gave him a kiss and he pulled me closer to him.

When he let me go, I was nearly breathless. His sweet smile made me melt and all I wanted was for him to be with me, for much longer than the time we had. I hadn’t realized I was frowning until he spoke.

“Everything alright?”

“I should have been back at Lily’s after the show,..” I confessed. “She’ll be up soon, and so will my sister.”

“I’d forgotten about them.”

“Me too, actually,” I said with a light chuckle. “Time moves too fast sometimes.”

“It does.”

We stayed in silence for a few minutes. I could have stayed with Cameron all day, but I knew that just being out until morning was scandalous, let alone being out all of the next day as well.

“You can shower when you’d like. I’ll make you some tea and bring you back to your aunt’s,” Cameron told me, as if reading my mind.

“Thanks,” I said, and slipped out of bed. I could feel him looking at me as I walked to the bathroom, but I didn’t mind.

The hot water felt so good, I barely wanted to get out and dry myself. Once I did, the thought of clean underwear crossed my mind and I heard Cameron call out from the bedroom.

“You haven’t got any clean pants, but these jeans were my sister’s. You can wear them if you’d like.”

I stepped out of the bathroom and thanked him, taking the jeans from his outstretched hand. I slipped into them and my shirt; Cameron was already dressed. I put my shoes on and gathered my underwear, pantyhose, and skirt, slipping them into my purse.

“The tour is finished, now, so I’ll be staying here for a few weeks,” he let me know as we made our way to the truck. “I put the house phone number in the jeans pocket, so you can call me whenever.”

“Thank you, Cameron. What will you do now that the tour is over?”

“We have about a month off before we head into the studio. I suppose I’ll mostly be writing music, and sleeping,” he said with a laugh.

We were at Polmuir Road before long; Cameron parked in front of the house and parked the car. We both began to speak at the same time, but he urged me to speak first.

“I had a really great time at the concert, Cameron. And with you.”

“As did I.” He smiled and gave me a quick kiss. “Call me before you leave, okay?”

“I will.”

“I’ll bring you to the door.”

We stepped out of the truck and Cameron took my hand in his as he walked me up the pathway to the front door.

“Well, I’ll see you soon, Cameron.” I smiled at him and he brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it softly.

“I look forward to it.”

I smiled at Cameron once more as he let go of my hand; we didn’t need to say anything else. I reluctantly closed the door behind me as he walked back to the truck.

The house was quiet for only a moment, before my sister bounded down the stairs.

“Where have you been? Lily was beyond herself!” My sister whispered angrily.

“Calm down, I’ll tell her I’m alright.” I was already fed up with my sister and it had only been ninety seconds.

“Whose jeans are those?” she asked.

“Well, they’re-”

“What happened to your skirt?” she interrupted me. “And my pantyhose? Don’t tell me you ripped them!”

“Would you shut up for a second? Oh, hi Lily.”

Our great-aunt had walked in from the kitchen. “Emily, you’re back? I thought you said it was-”

“I’m fine, I’m here now. I was with Cameron,” I explained.

“All night?” Lily was shocked.

My sister was beyond shock. “Do not tell me you were in a hotel room with him!”

“He’s got a house in Cairnie, it’s fine,” I added.

“Girls nowadays,” Lily scoffed, heading back to the kitchen. “Breakfast will be ready in 30 minutes, girls.”

Part 4

#wip rushing whispers #wip #romancewritersanonymous #original wip

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justacouplebandfics · 3 years

Text

We’ve got scars on our future hearts (Jalex) - Chapter 2

Description: Alex dealt with self harm when he was younger, that’s over now though- he’s better, until he’s not. Struggling with the idea of self harming as an adult Alex keeps the issue to himself, but living on a tour bus with your band there’s only so long you can keep something a secret.

Warning: Contains graphic descriptions of self harm

It’s also available here on Wattpad, and you can find the masterlist here.

Jack's POV

Something's up with Alex. The past few weeks he's been acting different, I think it's one of the benefits of being such good friends for so long, you can pick up on changes in each other that maybe someone else wouldn't see. He's been telling the guys that he's exhausted from the shows, and fair enough- this tour has been killer so far, we're all feeling a bit worse for wear. But I know exhausted Alex, he doesn't shut himself off like this- sure, he gets a bit quieter, and he might dip out of the occasional trip to the bar but he still thrives off being around the rest of us. Being on the road for so long together it's like a family, we all support each other.

I also know Alex isn't the kind of person who'd tell you he's not doing okay to your face if you asked him point blank, he's been like that ever since high school. I know he had some issues back then, he still hasn't told me what he was dealing with but whatever it was it made him act the same way he's acting now.

I'm worried about him, not just passive worry, it feels like someone's grabbing my guts and twisting them in their fist when I think about him struggling through something on his own.

"So what do you think?" Rian snaps me out of my thoughts, and I look up to see him and Matt looking at me, clearly waiting for an answer.

"Shit, sorry guys. I was completely in my own head for a minute there, what were you saying?"

They both laugh, I hesitantly chuckle along as Matt gets up to grab a drink from the fridge. "We were saying," Rian starts, I flash him a quick apologetic look "The crew were talking about going to this club in town tonight after the gig, since it's an early one, I know we've all been a bit exhausted lately and it's only so long before that turns sour so it might be good to let off some steam."

"Have a good time" Matt pipes up from behind the fridge door "Did you even try to make that sound fun" he jokes as he sits back down.

I run it over in my mind- I'm super up for it, there's a reason I've got a reputation as a bit of a party animal, it's Alex I'm thinking about. Would he come? I don't really want to be leaving him alone on the bus all night, especially if he's not doing great. "Have you asked Alex?"

"He said maybe," Rian rolls his eyes.

"Then maybe" I shoot back with a cheeky grin.

"Fuck Jack!" Rian shouts, feigning anger "You're separate people, you do know you can go places without each other, come on, please? We haven't been out as a group in way too long." Matt nods in agreement "Obviously we'd love for Alex to come but if he's being a party pooper," he purposely exaggerates the last part, leaning out from the table so his voice carries down the hall to the bunks "that doesn't mean you have to be one too."

I sigh and look at him, "I'll talk to Alex."

"That's good enough for me!" Matt decides and stands up from the table, picking up his can of coke "Me and Rian are gonna go grab some lunch from that burger place next to the venue- wanna join?"

"He'll have to ask Alex" Rian quips, they both have a good laugh about it as I shake my head.

"I'm not super hungry, only just got up- I'll catch you later though."

I shut the door behind them as they continue to laugh a little too hard about Rian's joke. Damn, maybe we do need a night out.

I haven't been sitting down too long before Alex peeks his head into the lounge "Morning" he smiles at me.

"Afternoon" I say back, glancing at the clock that's proudly announcing it's well past noon. "What's your plans for before the show? Pretty much everyone's out grabbing food at the moment, I thought we could wait until they get back for a verdict on the best place in town?"

Alex nods, "Yeah sounds good to me, I'm just gonna grab a quick shower and then I'm good to go" he turns towards the back of the bus but pokes his head around again "Oh! Almost forgot, I borrowed your headphone charger again last night, I still have no clue where mine went- it's in my bunk if you need it desperately" he dramatizes the last word, giggling as he heads off towards the shower.

"You could ask!" I shout back, but the waters already running- he can't hear me, so I mutter it again to myself as I head back towards his bunk to grab my charger. It's sat up on the shelf in his bunk, I pick it up and go to put it away but then I see his old sunglasses case from high school- I'm not a stalker, I haven't memorised all of Alex's glasses cases, this one is just obnoxious. It's bright pink and has 'Alex' bejewelled in tacky rhinestones, the glasses that went with it were even worse- so aggressively 2000s, and I'm pretty certain they were women's.

I have a little giggle at the memory, and open it up to see if he still has the glasses too, tipping it over onto the bed, sure enough those awful glasses come tumbling out, did they somehow have more diamantes than last time I saw them? I stop laughing when I realise something else fell out of the case, 3 shiny blades now lying on the duvet.

I'm so caught up in my own mind trying to process why Alex has blades in his sunglasses case I don't notice the shower stopping, it's not until the bathroom door opens do I tear my gaze away from them, to direct it at Alex. He's all smiles until he looks down at the bed, and then I see a million emotions cross his face all at once. "Alex..." I start, making a move to stand up.

"What the fuck are you doing going through my stuff?" he shouts, voice quivering slightly, I don't know if it's from rage or what but it's not nice to hear.

"Alex I'm sorry I didn't mean to go through your stuff I just noticed the glasses case and wanted to see if you still had them." I try to explain, taking a step back as he moves towards the bunk "Honestly I didn't mean anything by it" I try to catch his gaze so he can see the concern in my eyes but he's too focussed on stuffing the blades back in the case.

He puts the case back on his shelf and stands upright, looking at me- in the silence I try to figure out what he's thinking, and how to ask him why he has those, a small part of me hoping there's a logical explanation for it and's he's not hurting himself. "Why Alex?" Is all I manage to get out.

Immediately he's on the offensive, it's rare I see Alex genuinely angry but it's not a nice sight "Why the fuck do you think Jack?" he spits "You know why, so don't ask stupid questions. And you can cut it with this whole pity routine, you can just say it's pathetic you don't have to stand there and pretend it's not" his voice cracks "It's fucking pathetic and childish and we both know that so just don't." He's run out of steam, no longer shouting- his shoulders are hunched over and he looks defeated.

"Alex, I wasn't going to say that, why didn't you tell me?" I take a step towards him, ready to pull him into a hug but Alex looks like he's in his own little world- he pushes past me towards the front of the bus, stopping to put on his shoes.

He sighs, standing upright and looking me in the eyes "Just," he lets out another breath, running his hand through his hair "Don't tell the others?" he asks.

"I won't Alex, but please talk to me about this," I step towards him but he's already halfway out the door.

"I'll see you at soundcheck!" He shouts as he walks away from the bus.

I sit down on the sofa with my head in my hands, I know Alex likes to deal with things on his own but this doesn't seem like something he should be dealing with singlehandedly- and all those things he was calling himself, pathetic, childish? I don't understand where those come from, whenever he talks to fans about their self harm he's always so supportive- why didn't he react the same way about himself?

I'm so confused, but I just want to help him- I know I won't be able to talk to him until after the show, I have no clue where he's gone to now and talking about it after sound check could potentially throw him off for the show, which isn't fair to him or the fans. I do know one way to help him for certain though- and that's getting rid of the blades, I go back to his bunk and retrieve them from the glasses case, throwing them in the bin and taking it out to the dumpster around the back of the venue where we're parked.

I reach the bus at the same time Zack and a couple others are returning from lunch "Hey guys, how was it?" I ask, barely listening to the answer as I think over what I'm going to say to Alex. He asked me not to tell the others, and I won't- it's his business at the end of the day and it's not my decision who gets to know. I just hope he's okay.

Alex's POV

I walked off the tour bus and just kept walking, I don't know where I'm going I just need to be far away from Jack. Fuck I'm such an idiot. Why did I react like that? Why didn't I just say I don't know what they are? Or that I don't know how they got there? Literally anything would've been better than what I did.

Looking down at my feet when I walk I very narrowly avoid bumping head on with someone, I lift my gaze to apologise and see I'm at a bar, the man having already walked off. I figure a drink might calm me down and head inside- it's quiet, I'm sure at night it's lively- dart boards line the walls and there's pool tables set off to one side, but it's too early for it to be full. I ask the bartender for a beer, probably best not to get too wasted before the show, and start peeling off the label as I let my mind continue it's incessant thinking.

I keep replaying what Jack said in my head, "Why Alex?" at first it sounds concerned, genuinely distressed, maybe I should talk to him about it? Then it gets chewed around in my mind.

"Why Alex?" Why would you do this to yourself?

"Why Alex?" Why would you beg for attention like this?

"Why Alex?" Why are you so childish?

"Why Alex?" Why are you being so fucking pathetic, stop dragging us into your bullshit.

What's spat back out of my mind is nasty and cruel, but Jack isn't nasty or cruel- maybe my doing this makes him like that, maybe I'm the problem? I take a long swig of my beer, then another, and a few swigs later it's all gone. So much for taking it slow. I order another, telling myself this is the last one.

I try to block out my thoughts now, they're coming hard and fast and they're nothing but painful; What if Jack tells the others? What if the others react the same way? He definitely already has, everyone's so open with each other- they're probably all sat on the bus right now talking about it, about how I threw a tantrum like a child. I hold my head in my hands and try to shake the thoughts away but they don't stop.

"You alright?" the bartender asks, probably more curious than concerned- I nod as I ask for a shot of tequila, he raises his eyebrow but pours one anyway, sliding it over the bar to me.

"Thanks," I give him an awkward smile and pay my tab, before heading back to the venue for sound check.

#fanfic #jalex #jalex fic #jalex fanfic #fanfiction #jalex fanfiction #bandfic #band fic #jalexfic #jalexfanfic #jalexfanfiction #all time low #alex gaskarth #jack barakat #rian dawson #zack merrick #all time low fanfic #wattpad #We've got scars on our future hearts

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sharedfete · 4 years

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An interview with Mike Harmon

N: So the first question we have, or I have, was when did you start bartending and what brought you specifically here to The Wheel Barrel?

M: Oh, uh. I’ve been… my first job in a bar, I wasn’t 21 yet, so I was a bar back. This was 2000, maybe 99, in Lawrence. It was a country bar called Coyotes. Used to be a roller rink and they turned it into a country listening spin around and dance in a circle kind of place. It was fun. It was a club with about a 1,200 capacity so I got thrown in very early so I got to see what it was like three deep at a bar. It was exhilarating.

What brought me here, I was in Lawrence for about 20 years managing different bars, restaurants, might have got a little burnt out. So this is almost a vacation. Coming here it’s kind of a slower pace. But, when I met Jon in here I actually remember talking to him because I was thinking about opening up a bar either in NOTO or downtown kind of cocktail focused. Something a lot of people said wouldn’t work, but we’re kind of doing it here. Jon’s response was please open up in NOTO. When he said that to me I was like ‘shit man, I might just work here. This guy sounds amazing.’ And he ended up being amazing. Letting us kind of have our freedom to come up with cocktails that we want, he doesn’t put any limits on us. I mean my cocktail last time with the fucking bone marrow shit nowhere else would have, I mean we didn’t sell any, but it was cool that it was on the menu. Just having Jon being in this place made me want to work here.

N: To follow up on that, going from management back to this, does it feel like going back to the root of what brought you into bartending?

M: Yeah. I mean when you’re managing a place you rarely get your hands dirty. You’re only going to jump in if people are in the weeds and only then still if you don’t have other stuff to do. The last place I was managing Liberty Hall and I so much on my plate that even if the bartenders were dying I had things I had to deal with, maybe some issues at the door, we ran out of beer I’d need to grab some more because we had the smallest walk in ever for a place that big. I really enjoy just being behind the bar and just bartending, and not having to deal with any of that crap.

N: What’s your favorite cocktail to make?

M: Old Fashioned. I’ve made so many, I don’t even have to measure anymore. I can do it in my sleep. The reason I like making it so much is sense I’ve made it so many times I know the consistency behind it, it’s going to be the same drink every time I do it, which is super important to me. I love them. My favorite one to make, my favorite one to drink. My least favorite one to drink when it’s made wrong.

N: As kind of a side to that, I also wanted to know, what’s your favorite spirit to use? I guess either neat or also to use in crafting.

M: Well, that’s really tough because every spirits adding something different. Like a Mezcal is going to add this kind of smokiness that you don’t get from anything else. I love using gin because of so many people that have only had dry gin, but you get to bar so they haven’t had a botanical or a Jenever or some other variety of gin. So when someone says ‘make me a drink with anything but gin’ I'm like okay I’m going to make you a gin cocktail. I do that every time someone says that and most of the time they’re like ‘this is really good, maybe I do like that.’ The rums that have come to Kansas in the last year are amazing. Big shout out to John Brown Underground, Dante works there as a rum ambassador, he’s in the Caribbean right now, he’s going down and speaking there. Kansas is getting rums first before other states now and we’re getting a lot of rums that even two years ago we didn’t have in the states at all. So there’s a lot of cool ones that have come in. So yeah it depends on the cocktail. I mean vodka is so neutral that it’s not really adding any flavors so that would be the one that I don’t like working with. But all the rest are adding their own thing, their own twist, so it wouldn’t be a particular spirit. It would be maybe like out of the rums I love to use the agricoles, it’s so funky that it’s unexpected. Gin I like to use the jenever cause it just dries your mouth out. Whiskey I usually gravitate towards rye but I can throw a scotch in if I want something smoky. I can put mezcal accidentally in every drink, I’ve definitely don’t that a little too much at my house. Yeah, outside of vodka, I love them all.

J: Rum is actually one of the oldest spirits.

M: And rums the next thing. Whiskey had its big kind of reemergence. People going nuts over whiskey. Rums the next guy here in the next year. There’s not just going to be a whiskey society here in Topeka, there’s going to be rum societies. Rum is about to take off.

N: What’s your favorite cocktail to drink, signature or otherwise, and favorite food to eat off of The Wheel Barrel menu.

M: Cocktail wise, I wasn’t even working here when they came up with it, it’s a Dana cocktail. “Smoke Before Fire” I think is the one that kind of, it’s approachable enough that people aren’t going to think it’s too weird to try. It’s complex enough that anybody that wants to venture out is going to like it too. I think it’s for everybody. It’s amazing to have that be a mezcal based cocktail that is approachable to everybody I think is kind of a feat. I think it’s my favorite drink on the menu that stays on the menu.

Food wise I love a little bit of spice. I go with The Hangover. If they're bored in the kitchen they usually put way too much grinders on it just to see my reaction. But yeah, something with heat, The Hangover is usually my go to.

N: What was your first impression of the wheel barrel when you walked in the door for the very first time?

M: Okay so the very first time I walked in was just a couple months into The Wheel Barrel being open and I had just kind of decided to take a break for once. So I was kind of in a state of limbo. I had just got a house out in the country, I was just kind of on a little vacation from everything. Just figuring out what I was doing next. Decompressive stage. I had friends that had been here and they said ‘this place opened up, they’re trying this cocktail stuff, experience isn’t quite there yet.’ They dropped my name to come in here and sit down. So I actually came here for the first time and sat down with Sarah for about an hour, the GM at the time. We talked cocktails and I taught her how to make an Old Fashioned correctly. When I started working here they were still making it the same way so I’m glad that stuck. But yeah, I saw what they were trying to do again in a town, in an area, where cocktails hadn’t really gotten there yet.

N: Specially craft cocktails

M: Yeah! I mean I would guess that maybe one of the most common cocktails is a long island iced tea. Just a trashcan. It’s not good. It’s just a way to get drunk instead of way to enjoy the experience.

Even though it was kind of in its infancy and I feel like that might have had a small part on why they transitioned to more of a beer first than whiskey. Just my hour of talking with Sarah I think she understood how complicated it was and how much… but they kept going, and like I said a lot of the cocktails that were here before I got here that are still on the menu are ones I’m proud of. So they also made it there in a town I was told more times than not there’s not a market for.

N: What would you like first time guests to take away from their visit?

M: Just like with any place that I’ve worked, mostly in the service industry, I just want them to have a good time. If they love the food that’s a bonus. If they love the cocktails that’s a bonus. If we have a really good beer on that they love that’s a bonus. But I just want them to enjoy the atmosphere. I think we do a really good job with our staff and with, again, an owner who is here every day that will bend over backwards to help anybody. I think we do a really good job of people leaving enjoying the experience. I think that’s most important with any service industry job. Sometimes that’s overlooked.

N: What’s a favorite or a funny story from bartending for as long as you have?

M: Oh crap… which one can I say. Okay, here’s one of my favorites just because of how absurd it was. When I was working at Liberty Hall, we had, I forget the band, but it was like a country band. For some reason when we got all the info on the band, cause we’d never heard of them, they weren’t like a huge like Moresy or some kind of group that we obviously knew who they were, we thought they were an indie band. So we got a bunch of PBR, a bunch of stuff the more indie crowd kind of drinks and when I heard the soundcheck I was like ‘oh no! this is a country band.’ We went out and bought as many domestic cans as we could and we ended up having to go to the liquor store to buy as much as a cart would fit three more times during the show. It was our highest grossing show and literally all we were selling was cans and fireball shots. We made over $10,000 during the two and a half hour show on $3 beers. It was crazy! Our fingers hurt. I literally had bruised fingers from opening cans, I didn’t know that was a real thing. But during the show this guy, overalls, cowboy hat, giant old man walks up and asks me if I had any Smirnoff ice. I was like ‘no we don’t have Smirnoff ice’… I kind of thought he was joking cause you know big guy in a cowboy hat. I didn’t expect Smirnoff ice. So I thought he was joking. I was like ‘no man we don’t have Smirnoff Ice’ he’s like ‘you’re telling me I drove three hours to come to this show and you ain’t got no god damn Smirnoff ice.’ And it is my favorite fucking moment. I couldn’t hold it. I laughed, still thinking he might be joking, but I kind of figured out he wasn’t. But I couldn’t help it I still just cracked up.

J: Don’t judge a book my its cover

M: Oh absolutely. When you have regulars you can figure out what they’re drinking but yeah you have no idea what someone is going to drink, how someone’s going to tick, how they’re going to respond… Once you think you’ve figured someone out before you’ve meet ‘em, you’ve probably done yourself a bit of a disservice. But yeah, that still cracks me up.

J: I would just ask, are they anymore things you’d like to say about Jon? The way you’ve been talking about him I feel like… you say he lets you do whatever you guys want. A lot of establishments don’t really see that.

M: Oh yeah!

J: We’d love to hear more about that.

M: Having an owner that is in the weeds with you every day, apart from doing all of the stuff he has to do as an owner too. We’re recording this right now, were talking on a day that were closed. I guarantee he’s been here all day deck washing the patio and cleaning all sorts of stuff. If we have a dish washer not show up, Jon’s washing dishes all night. Server doesn’t show up, Jon is running food all night. He works a double every day we’re open. And for him to trust the staff and hire I think the right people in the kitchen and the front of house, getting people good experience, and kind of know their job. The freedom that he gives us in the kitchen and in the bar to just do what we want. It’s amazing just all around. And that’s just talking about what happens in this building. Jon and Jennifer… I should bring up Jennifer. She’s an owner too, she’s just not in here as much; she has another business to run. What they’re doing for the area, what they’re doing for the NOTO district is amazing. Whether it’s just having two prominent businesses or helping out with every decision from the other business owners, or painting murals all around town. It’s insane. I don’t think we’d have NOTO without those two.

N: At least the NOTO we know today.

M: Oh yeah for sure. I mean it wouldn’t disappear off the path. But it wouldn’t be what it is and what it’s going to be.

J: That was really nice.

M: I like hearing my own voice. What were we talking about?

J: Since you guys do sell a lot of beer what would be your typical beer?

M: So with the beer, since we do sell so much as soon as we burn through a keg we put something else out. We’re always moving stuff. It’s fun to find the beers, or the breweries more specifically, that you wouldn’t ever taste. I think I’d had a Toppling Goliath beer once or twice before working here, we’ve gotten almost every variety of their seasonals, their normal beer. Their King Sue was amazing, kind of a nice hazy double IPA. Really nice. We have a Dragon’s Milk on right now that’s a marshmallow chocolate scotch barrel aged stout that is amazing. I have some at my house that I got from here on Saturday because it’s so good. Yeah, so it’s cool that when we’re up at full speed, if we ever get back to post COVID operations, that’s another cool thing about this spot. We’ll have 12-ish beers on tap and if you show up every Friday there will be 12 different beers. So you always get to try new things. It’s something that, it’s not just the cocktails, that we’re trying to get people to try new things, open up their mind. It’s the beer too. I mean we don’t have Bud Light on tap, we don’t have Blue Moon on tap. It’s just trying new things. Life Coach out of Washington Kansas. I think it takes a lot of balls to be a brewery and make a light beer, a lager. Cause every brewery wants to do this crazy thing. Have so many hops in this beer. Like Dragons Milk I said with all that, they knocked it out of the park, it’s great, but for them in Washington Kansas, a town that I’m not even sure has a stop light, is making this beer that’s in Kansas could be replacing Bud Light in a lot of small towns which you’d think would never happen. But this local easy drinking lager is taking over every small town. They just came out with a Pineapple Life Coach, it’s amazing for this small town to take the chance to not do the crazy beer. Let’s just do a really good version of the American classic lager. The Budweisers, the Coors, the Millers: let’s just do that one better and sell it super cheap, low ABV, and put it everywhere. Shout out to the Kansas folks that took a chance.

J: I see you’re wearing a 1792 hat, is that like a whiskey you really like?

M: It was the best hat that I found at any distillery that I visited when I went to Kentucky this last February. But yeah, I enjoy it. It was about two weeks before we shut down because of COVID. I went to Kentucky with a buddy who is about pop out his first kid so we did one last hurrah before he’s chained down for a bit. We went up for just a quick two day trip. One day driving two days there one day driving back. In those two days we hit nine distilleries. Tasted a bunch, spent like $3,000 on booze. Just to come back and be like ‘you don’t have a job for a while.’ Bad timing. But no it was great! I tried to buy at least one piece of merchandise from every place we were at. At least two or three bottles of whiskey in every place we were at. It was a fun trip. The hat, I just like an all-black hat.

J: I personally like 1792

M: Oh yeah! It’s really good.

J: Do you want to give any shout outs?

M: John Brown Underground, they’re probably, outside of Chicago, the best cocktail bar in the Midwest. They’re in Lawrence, Kansas. In the grand scheme of things a tiny college town. What they’re doing is amazing. The guys and girls working at the bar, they’re all under 25 years old. It’s insane what they’re doing. I knew two of them. Dante who is running it and Cami who is an amazing bartender. I knew both of them before they were 21 and before they even started thinking about bartending. I didn’t know Dante as well, but I knew Cami really well. She just, once she hit 21 she just hit ground running, learned everything she can. For anybody thinking about getting into the bar industry, these are people that, like I said, easily top five best cocktail bar in the Midwest. Easily. And these are all people under 25.

So I don’t care how old you are… hopefully you’re over 21 but how old you are, in 4 or 5 years, you could be one of the best in the world. Read all the books you can. Get all the knowledge. There’s more knowledge out there right now than there’s ever been. Even though the best things to read are the books from the 1800s, that’s the best way to start. But yeah, you can pick it up. I hate when there’s people that have been bartending for 20 years that don’t know how to make a cocktail drink. Don’t actually know what the definition of a cocktail is. It’s not all mixed drinks, it’s just a drink that has spirits, bitters, sweetener and dilution of water from stirring. That’s what a cocktail is. It has to have all and only those ingredients but cocktail gets intermixed with everything.

Here locally, Burger Stand has upped their cocktail game. Britney and Larry are doing great things over there. I’ve really been enjoying, especially their last couple menus, they’re making drinks that are inspired by local people either in the business or not in the business, just local Topekans, and for a business that a lot of people think that we are competing on their last menu they made a cocktail influenced by Jon, the owner of the Wheel Barrel. So that was really cool. Kind of have people working together. White Linen in the past 6/7 months, the guys they have in there, have really upped the cocktail game. There’s not many seats there so a lot of people don’t get to experience but when you go there the guys that are doing the bar system there are really awesome. I think those are the places to go in Topeka and if you want to drive 20 minutes and hit John Brown. They are open again; I was there last Thursday and it was as great as ever.

J: I don’t know where we’d be if those establishments hadn’t opened…etc.

M: I think Dan has a lot to do with it. Those two guys, they’ve read all the books, but they didn’t have the muscle memory. They didn’t have the execution, and Dan does. So when Dan went there I think he helped them a lot. I was even talking with Dante the other day, the online videos that they’ve been making at White Linen. The first one they did on the Old Fashioned. Dante and I were talking about how it’s great that they’re doing that. The last day that John Brown was open before they shut down, I was up there with Dan and Molly. Erin showed up. We were like we have to get down there, sit down with Dante and just talk. So they’ve gotten to know each other. But that video I mentioned on the Old Fashioned… Dante and I looked at each other and were like… I love that he’s out there, I love that he’s doing it when he’s still so young. When he looks back in a couple years at some of those videos he’s going to be like ‘what was I thinking.’

J: I feel like in this industry that’s how you feel every time. I look back at things that I used to make and I’m like why…

M: Absolutely. That’s why I never want to put anything on video. If I had a video two years ago of a cocktail I made. I would be like ‘what was I doing?!!” I never want to put something on video. Unless I’m making an exact standard. One thing, I can make an old fashioned and I won’t ever make it differently. But yeah I never want to look at a video of myself doing something in the past.

Those guys at White Linen, they remind me of the guys at John Brown. They’re so young. They’ve read all the right books. It’s just a point of them putting in the hours, doing the work. You have all the knowledge in the world but until you do it every day and just keep doing it you’re muscles learn to do it all before your brain does. That’s when it really all comes together. They’re going to get there. Super knowledgeable. But they just need to put in the hours.

#NoTo #The Wheel Barrel #July 2020 #Bartending #Topeka #Kansas

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harryandmolly · 5 years

Text

The Emancipation of Ginny ~ 9

summary: shawn and ginny could’ve ruined everything six months ago, and sticking together despite their past could make or break them now as ginny stays on as his personal assistant. but what happens on tour doesn’t stay on tour.

warnings: Language, easter eggs, The Bodyguard soundtrack

WC: 5.8k

Ginny stands, lips pursed, outside the door. After a moment and a little huff of breath, she jabs her elbow into Andrew’s side. He flinches and grunts, pushing his glasses up his nose. He looks over at her, exhaustion reaching into the fine lines of his face.

“You go in,” Ginny insists, raising her eyebrows.

Andrew frowns. “You go in. You’re his assistant.”

“You’re his manager,” Ginny shoots back.

“Exactly. Managers don’t go fishing popstars out of their girlfriends’ apartments. That has assistant written all over it.”

Ginny balks. “Where was that in my contract?”

Andrew opens his mouth to make another snarky comment when the door swings in, creaking on overpainted hinges. They both fall silent. Shawn stands just inside, blank faced and a little frazzled. When he got all their texts about waiting for him downstairs, he didn’t think they were actually impatient enough to be waiting on Sara’s stoop. But there they are, looking irritable, sleepy and a little guilty. He cracks a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, guys.” He reaches up and smoothes the collar of his button-up. He looks to Ginny. Her eyes are bright and warm despite the early hour. He smiles when he sees them.

She smiles back. “You have lipstick on your ear.”

She turns on her heel and bounces down the steps. She doesn’t look back when she opens the door to the cab and gets in. Andrew claps him on the shoulder with a grating sigh.

“Time to go.”

Shawn and Ginny have made a sport of surviving long flights. They’re both talkers, which helps. They can talk for hours and not get bored of each other. But more than that, they’re experienced flyers. They know exactly how much Benadryl to take at the exact right time to be knocked out for as long as an overnight flight will last. They know exactly how many Netflix episodes of a certain show to download before they’ll get bored of the same thing and move on. They’re professionals at entertaining each other and themselves.

Shawn doesn’t know what to expect when he buckles into his first class seat next to her on the flight from JFK to LAX. He just ostensibly spent most of their whirlwind festival weekend in Manhattan shacked up with Sara. He practically has whiplash. He imagines Ginny might feel the same.

He glances over at her. She’s got her head buried in her backpack at her feet, looking for something. He drums his fingers on his knees, waiting for her to resurface. When she doesn’t, he clears his throat.

“Lost something?” he prompts.

Ginny sits up and blows some curls out of her face. She grunts.

“Can’t find my book. Must’ve put it in my checked bag.”

She sounds flummoxed, and he would be too if he didn’t already know exactly where The Book is.

The Book is 13 Little Blue Envelopes by Maureen Johnson. It’s Ginny’s favorite. She keeps a paperback copy with her in every carry-on on every flight she’s ever taken. Shawn knows it almost as well as she does from when she used to read it to help him fall asleep.

Shawn grins, happy to feel useful. He shoves his hand into the bag at his feet and pulls out the well-worn, dogeared, cracked-spined paperback. He puts it in her hands.

“You left it in the snack bag we took to soundcheck in the park. I put it in my backpack before we left.”

Ginny sighs, relieved. She smiles and snuggles back into her seat, hugging the book to her chest.

“Dunno what I’d do if I ever lost it.”

Shawn nods in understanding. “It’s your good luck charm. The plane would probably crash or something.”

Ginny looks startled at the idea. Shawn snorts a chuckle. The sound makes Ginny laugh. They both snicker until a flight attendant passes to check their seat positions. The plane begins to taxi.

Ginny gazes out the window. Her heart feels a little lighter in her chest when the plane ascends through the clouds. She’s never much liked New York. Leaving now, exchanging overcast, seeping humidity for browning palm fronds in the dry, California sun feels like what the doctor ordered.

She flips open the book to her ironically-chosen faded Twilight bookmark. She clears her throat and chuckles at the passage in front of her.

“I get a little romantic about the old Empire State. Just looking at it makes me want to play some Frank Sinatra tunes and sway a little. I have a crush on a building. I'd been in there several times but never to work. I always knew there were offices in there but the fact never penetrated, really. You don't work in the Empire State Building. You propose in the Empire State Building. You sneak a flask up there and raise a toast to the whole city of New York.”

Shawn sits back and listens to Ginny read. He lifts a corner of his mouth sleepily when she finishes.

“You hate New York.”

Ginny shrugs. “I don’t hate New York. I think New York is a sad attempt at what London has already perfected. I don’t know why they try.”

Shawn laughs. “You’ll be home again soon during the time off next week. You can drink tea and eat biscuits and sit in the rain all you want. You don’t have to think about New York again for a while.”

Ginny’s smile is wistful. She’ll be happy not to think about New York or anyone in it for a while.

Shawn catnaps with curls over his eyes and his face turned toward her for about an hour. When he wakes up, Ginny’s rereading the part where her fictional counterpart Ginny falls asleep and wakes up disoriented in Richard’s flat. It’s not a particularly loaded or meaningful section of the novel, but Ginny found herself seeking it out anyway. She finds solace in reading about someone who’s surrounded by love and family but remains confused and somehow unfulfilled.

She logs into the United Airlines WiFi and checks her posting on YouTube. She has a few new comments -- some trolls, some complimentary. She plugs in her headphones and watches it again. When it ends, she watches it again.

She’s chewing her cheek and staring at her phone when Shawn’s eyes flutter open. He smiles at the sight of her and her focused face.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Gin?”

He has raspy morning voice. Ginny looks over. Her nose wiggles, shivering her septum ring with it.

“Just browsing,” she lies smoothly. Shawn nods and sits up in his seat. He picks up the bag of pretzels resting on his tray table and drops it on hers.

“Oh god, thank you,” she mutters, opening the bag ravenously like she’s been waiting all day to eat his pretzels. He closes his eyes.

“Can I ask you something?”

His eyes open. His heart begins to race for no real reason other than that he knows her and knows she doesn’t preface questions very often. Ginny always just asks.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think everything happens for a reason?”

Shawn’s quiet. He aims his gaze down at his lap and swipes his tongue over his front teeth.

“I guess I want to think that,” he answers finally.

He braves a glance at her. She’s looking out the window.

“Me too,” she whispers, “Sometimes I just want to know what the fucking plan is though.”

Shawn is somewhat startled by her sudden philosophical detour. He clears his throat. His hand twitches at his side.

He could sit here and guess what she could mean -- is she thinking about him? Is she thinking about her music? Is she thinking about just… everything?

He decides since she’s not wading further into the conversation, it’s not for him to know right now.

He garbles out an unsatisfactory ‘I know what you mean’ and tries not to watch her as she falls asleep. As she drifts off, he holds her book in his big hands and whispers the words until her breathing evens.

Ginny’s never been more grateful for so much noise.

Piled in a blacked-out Escalade on the way to some bar in Silver Lake, smashed between her fellow crew mates, the noise in the car is finally enough to block out the noise in her head that’s been raging for weeks. She’s a few swigs of whiskey in, courtesy of the flask in Ziggy’s jacket. The lightness of her head and the hollowness of her body give her a floating sensation so delicious that she hasn’t noticed Shawn spending most of the evening quiet and texting Sara.

She’s gotten good at not noticing anything that has to do with Sara, including Shawn’s repeated pleas to Andrew to find another weekend to get back to New York.

The liquor helps.

The music cuts out suddenly. Ginny’s bleary eyes focus past Mike’s head to Andrew in the front seat. His finger hovers over the stereo system and his other hand holds his phone to his ear. The car goes respectfully quiet until Andrew hangs up. He looks back at their expectant faces.

“There’s a ton of paps outside. Jake’s gonna get out first, let venue security know, get us some help.”

Ginny pieces together the fact that Jake is in the car ahead of them, Shawn’s car, the one stopped in front of the bar. She can see the way the paps swarm the vehicle like vultures. She makes a face. Mike laughs and elbows her. She elbows back.

After the first car empties, they pull up to replace it. Ginny’s relaxed heartbeat stirs up a little faster. The doors are thrown open. The clicks of the cameras, the flashes reverberating around them, the shouts of the photographers, they replace the comforting noise Ginny was basking in moments ago. They set her teeth on edge.

One by one, the occupants of the car filter out onto the sidewalk, engulfed in paparazzi that are not well controlled by the flimsy venue security team. Ginny comes out last. She focuses on the back of Mike’s head until her vision is obscured by the kaleidoscoping shapes the flashes leave behind in her eyes.

She winces and pulls back. She stands there, head down, trying to ignore the rising wave of tension lapping at her hips. She wants to crawl back inside the car. She wants to go home.

She attempts to lift her head and look around. She’s unstable on her feet and falters, knocking into a photographer who knocks her back. Ginny grunts, stumbling, grabbing the car to keep from tipping off the curb. Her heel slips. She’s heading for a fall that probably wouldn’t really hurt anything more than her pride. But she doesn’t fall.

A long, firm arm sweeps around her waist and hauls her upright against a similarly built chest. She swallows and locks up her throat to scream until she catches a whiff of his cologne. She releases her rasping breath all at once, a relieved sigh. She drapes an arm up around his neck and lets him help her off the side of the car.

“Can you guys please, please move?” Shawn all but barks. Even when he’s pissed, which she can hear he clearly is, he’s polite.

With the help of Jake, Shawn keeps his arm fastened around Ginny, leading her inside amidst the even louder screams because oh my god, he’s holding a girl, these photos are gonna sell big.

His fingers dig into her flesh so firmly she’s sure she’ll wake up with bruises. He’s practically dragging her because her body’s not exactly cooperative right now. In the back of her mind, she wonders exactly how pissed Jake will be that the venue was so ill-prepared.

She focuses on Shawn’s voice once they’re through the door.

“Gin?”

It’s clear and anxious and panted at her through her hair. She lifts her head and turns to look at him. His eyes are wide. His lips are parted with heavy breaths. His gaze flickers between her eyes and her lips. She locks her jaw and closes her eyes until she can convince herself not to kiss him. It takes a good few seconds.

“I’m ok,” she finally spits out. She drops her arm from around his neck. She steps back.

“I’m sorry.”

Shawn shakes his head. “No, don’t-- I mean… there’s nothing to be sorry for. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this is so fucking crazy.”

Ginny looks around. The team is gathered, watching them carefully like middle schoolers gathering around playground drama. She feels heat rise to her face and smoothes her sweaty palms down the front of her jeans. Andrew and Jake are having very stern words with who she guesses are the venue managers. Andrew’s eyes dart to hers every few seconds like he thinks she’ll collapse in Shawn’s arms at any moment.

She clears her throat. She’s not that fragile.

“Thanks for the assist, Prince Charming,” she laughs a little shakily, patting his arm in a way that’s a little too friendly, a little too casual. She turns to join Mike and Zubin as they wade into the crowded see-and-be-seen-style bar.

“No problem,” Shawn murmurs a little self-consciously, shoving his hands in his pockets and following.

The good noise is back and Ginny loves it.

Good noise, like Zubin and Mike chanting “shots! Shots! Shots!” every time they see a server pass with a tray of them. Good noise, like Shawn attempting to sing badly along to a very weird but hilarious remix of “Stronger” by Christina Aguilera (he still sounded great). Good noise, like Teddy Geiger screaming “HEY GINNY BABY” right in her ear.

Ginny leaps out of her seat despite having had a couple more drinks since they arrived. Ginny loves her team, even kind of likes feeling like the rose amongst the thorns being a woman amongst all the many men, but Teddy’s squeal in her hair feels like a life preserver when she didn’t even realize she was in deep water.

Teddy insists she needs a drink and hauls Ginny off to the bar. Even with her head in the clouds, Ginny knows what Teddy wants.

They lean into a corner beside the counter, propped up against the wall with their drinks. Teddy eyes her suspiciously.

“So,” she begins, “What do we think of Sara?”

Ginny turns her nose up delicately. “I haven’t met her.”

Teddy smirks. “I bet he hasn’t said a single fuckin’ word to you.”

Ginny laughs. Teddy might know Shawn almost as well as she does. She’s not threatened by it. In fact, it’s handy. Sometimes she needs similar perspective when she can’t trust her own judgment.

“I guess I’ll know it’s really serious when he starts talking to me about her. I don’t think he’ll say anything until he knows she’s not going anywhere,” Ginny muses, glancing off into space.

Teddy pokes Ginny in the chin and makes a pouty face. “And if that’s what happens?”

Ginny’s lips come together from the corners the way they do when she has a secret. Teddy grins conspiratorially.

“You know I love Shawn,” Ginny begins diplomatically.

“But,” Teddy interjects, lifting her eyebrows.

“But, I can’t trail around behind him forcing him to spit out his gum and making sure his laundry gets done forever. He’s my best friend. He won’t stay my best friend if I don’t grow just like he gets to.”

Teddy nods solemnly. Wise, impressive words, given how toasted she is.

Teddy reaches out, squeezes her arm with a wink. “You need any help with that, you call me. Women helping women, and all that.”

Ginny nods and watches Teddy cast off across the bar back to Emily and her friends.

And two hours later, Shawn is pouring her into the backseat of a hired car, praying she doesn’t yack up.

“C’mon, Gin, you’re not allowed to take that with you,” Shawn insists, trying to loosen her empty tumbler from her nimble fingers. She’s giggling madly and squirming away from him.

Shawn’s never seen her like this. She’s always the mom drunk, ready to snap into sobriety when she needs to. This time, she’s the tricky drunk.

Finally, he does get the glass away and tucked into Andrew’s hand. Thankfully, the paps are gone. It’s late. Shawn’s long past ready to head back to the hotel, but Ginny and the rest of his team still had wilding to do. He played along, fought through his exhaustion because he’s still on New York time and has stayed on it so he can spend more time texting Sara on her schedule, but it’s past 2am and Shawn is done.

Shawn keeps an arm around Ginny’s waist as she trips into the elevator to head up the stairs. Her head is bobbing, her eyes are starting to close. Shawn groans.

“Nope, no, Gin, no. You can’t fall asleep on me in the hallway. We’re almost there, c’mon. Where’s your room key?”

Ginny blearily blinks at him. She has no idea what he’s talking about. He sighs.

He looks her over. She’s not carrying a bag. Her phone is in his pocket. She has virtually nowhere to hide a key. He bites his tongue and glances over her shoulder to see a rectangular shape pressed against one of the back pockets of her ridiculously tight jeans. He blinks quickly, grunts, and slips his fingers into the pocket to fish it out. Ginny just giggles again. He ignores his stupid, slightly tipsy body’s reaction to the sound and opens her door.

Ginny flings herself inside and drops backwards onto the bed, legs flailing, curls crashing against the pillow. Shawn grins and sets her keycard down on the dresser, hovering awkwardly.

“Wan’ watch a movie, love?” she coos half into a pillow, waving her hand toward the remote on her nightstand. He shakes his head and steps further into the room, assessing. He sees a line of small water bottles by the TV and cracks one open, walking toward the bed.

“Can you sit up for me?”

Ginny cranks herself to a seated position, supported by the headboard. She lifts her feet into his lap and takes the proffered bottle.

As she sips, he carefully unbuckles her strappy platform sandals and smiles when she wiggles her toes at him like she’s waving.

“Miss you,” she mumbles. He looks up.

Her eyes are closed. She drank about half the bottle, which is likely all he’ll get out of her. She’s sniffing gently, rubbing at her piercing, head drooping.

“I’m right here, Gin,” he whispers, squeezing around her ankle.

“No,” she sighs, sounding resigned, “Like we used to be. Used to tell me everything.”

His breath and words are stuck in his chest. He chokes on his voice.

She lifts her head, rolls it back against the headboard to look at him. Her gaze is hazy but unwavering. He feels naked, caught in it like this.

“I know you’re writing a song about me.”

He flinches.

“Wh… what?”

She shrugs. “It’s either about me or her but I think it’s about me cause you’ve been working on it since before you met her, if it’s the same one.”

Her reasoning is sound in a way that tells Shawn she didn’t just come up with this theory. Her drunk brain didn’t do this. She concocted this theory sober, drunk brain is just the one voicing it.

Shawn has a few answers lined up -- I’ve written songs about you before, this doesn’t have to be a big deal and we shouldn’t be talking about this, among others. He doesn’t get to say them before she turns a suspicious shade of green and starts blinking quickly.

Shawn winces. “Gonna puke?”

She nods vigorously.

He helps her up, shuffles her to the bathroom and holds back her hair while she vomits into the toilet. He sits patiently, massaging his fingers against her scalp. He waits with her while she brushes her teeth. He helps fish out her scarf and watches her wrap her hair into a pineapple, fixes it when her still-uncooperative fingers make a hash of it. He tucks her in, places a trash bin beside her bed and sleeps in the armchair.

When she wakes up, it’s to eggs benedict from room service and a text from Shawn reminding her to drink more water. She smiles, calls Hannah and eats breakfast in bed.

Her breakfast high doesn’t last long.

Andrew calls her on his way back from a meeting and tells her to check her social media. Everywhere, from JustJared to People to fan accounts, are the pap shots from the night before. Shawn gripping Ginny so tight around her hip that she remembers to check her skin for bruises (she does have a couple that match the spread of his fingers). Shawn nearly carrying her into the bar. Ginny looking up at Shawn like a goddamn damsel in distress.

The thing is, she doesn’t look drunk. She just looks scared. Shawn has the hard furrow of skin between his eyebrows that sets in when he’s pissed but trying to keep his cool. Ginny is clinging to him.

She sets her clenching jaw and turns off her phone. She chucks it into the pile of throw pillows Shawn made when he tucked her in last night. She closes her eyes.

@Tasteyshawn: but liiiiiike y’all look at the way he’s looking at her he is straight up in love #boyfriend!shawn

@shawndarhimes: omfg can u believe #shinny my actual otp omfg omfg

@shawncometobrazil98: ahhhhhhhHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH ITS FINALLY HAPPENING #shinny

@happyrosyshawn: guys, the most important thing is that he’s happy. You can clearly see he loves her. So treat her with respect. Shawn would be so upset if people started hating Ginny. And let’s face it, look at them together. They’re endgame.

Endgame. Endgame. Endgame.

The word’s been circling his head all morning, scraping at his tender skin, tearing at his healing heart. His teeth are on edge. His body temperature feels like it’s up by ten degrees. He keeps running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the ends like he does when he needs to ground himself.

Endgame. Endgame.

How the hell would they know? They’re just pictures. These girls, his fans, he loves them, but they can’t know. They don’t know. They can’t pretend to know who he’s meant to be with. But he can’t shake the fucking feeling that they’re right. He hasn’t felt this bone-deep panic since that night on the plane when Ginny was lying on his chest and everything was absolutely, perfectly ok until it wasn’t.

Endgame.

He glances at his phone. He swipes past the messages from Andrew and fumbles for his phone app. He knows what he has to do now.

Calling Sara

Sara took herself to brunch today.

She woke up, checked social media and put her phone on airplane mode five minutes later with a tight feeling in her chest.

She stood, checked herself over in the mirror, completed her most elaborate version of her multistep Korean skincare routine, put on a dress she got on sale last year at Nordstrom Rack and walks all the way to Sarabeth’s.

It’s Sunday. It’s hot as balls, so all of Manhattan smells like garbage, but it’s nearly empty. At least this part is. Everyone that lives in this neighborhood is in the Hamptons this weekend soaking up the sun on a beach like god intended. Not Sara. Sara slathered herself in SPF 80+ just to walk out the door. The only sun she’s getting is what gets reflected off the skyscrapers.

She sits in the puddle of sweat under an umbrella. She’s the only one on the patio. She smells Hawaiian Tropic and the vodka in her bloody mary. She orders the crab cake benedict from the smiley red-headed waitress with the spring in her step and the Neverland tattoo on her forearm.

When she has enough bloody mary in her system to stomach turning her phone back on, she has a text and missed call from Shawn, which she expected. He’s asking for a call.

His voice is a little high pitched and frantic at first. He explains he doesn’t know what she’s thinking right now, he doesn’t know if she’s mad or sad or hurt or scared, but he just wants to talk. He wanted to hear her voice.

“I’m not mad, Shawn.”

And it’s true. She has no trouble saying it out loud because it’s true. She isn’t mad at all. She knows very well he didn’t fuck his assistant last night. He’s just not that kind of guy.

She’s not just his assistant, though. She’s been around him enough to know Ginny is Shawn’s best friend. He says the words differently when referring to Ginny than when he’s talking about Brian or Niall or the other guys from Toronto. He says best friend -- she sees the word in italics in her head when he says them. She can feel the gravity. He takes her friendship more seriously than almost any other relationship in his life.

Sara doesn’t read comments. She knows better. She knew better even before she started dating a popstar. But she doesn’t have to read them to know what they’ll say. They’ll say finally, together at last, Shawn and Ginny, as they were always meant to be. Probably less eloquently than that because, well, comments sections. And do you know what? She can’t even be mad about that. Because she and Shawn do nothing but jump through hoops to keep their relationship a secret. Sara designed it that way. She asked for that.

So no, she’s not mad. She can’t be mad.

But her entire body stings.

“Listen,” she begins, clearing her throat. She looks out at the horses hauling carriages of tourists around Central Park and back down at her empty plate, “I don’t suspect anything. I don’t think anything. I don’t know you well, but I know you didn’t do that. You don’t owe me an explanation, as far as I’m concerned.”

She takes a deep breath and continues, “At this point, I don’t think either of us is comfortable with this being the kind of relationship where we have to answer to each other for things like that. We’re not there yet. We’re just… easy, right?”

Ginny sits back in her chair. Her smile is warm and flat like the beer sitting on her coaster. She’s not drinking tonight, but a Dos Equis was put in front of her anyway. She’s ignoring it just like she’s ignoring everyone’s weird glances from the past week since the night at the bar and the subsequent pictures.

The day after the photos, Andrew had another sit down chat with Shawn and Ginny about public boundaries. This time, as Ginny cast sidelong glances at him, Shawn didn’t even flinch. He agreed easily. Space is a good idea.

So space she gave him. It wasn’t just in front of the cameras, though. They’ve been actively avoiding anything that has to do with the other unless it’s work related. And when a paradigm like that shifts within the team, everyone notices. Everyone stares. Everyone talks.

Despite her desire to drink away the feeling of the eyes on her, Ginny sits up straight and grins, watching Andrew croon his way through a rendition of “Hallelujah” that Ginny tried to convince him was an awful choice for a karaoke tune but Andrew insisted anyway. Shawn is at the next table, knees bouncing. He looks down at his phone every 15 seconds or so. Not that Ginny’s counting.

Andrew takes a bow. Ginny howls, trying to outdo the squalling yells from Geoff and Mike and Zubin. Shawn claps and laughs like he doesn’t even hear them.

Andrew plops himself down in the chair across from Ginny. His eyes are glassy from one too many tequila sunrises. She smirks.

“Well done, boss.”

“I think you can do better,” he laughs.

“I’m sure I can, but I don’t feel like it tonight.”

Andrew’s eyebrows raise. She’s never once turned down an opportunity to perform. When Shawn is caught behind for soundcheck, she gets onstage and plays and sings for them until he gets there.

“I already put your name in, Gin.”

And so he did. The DJ calls her name over the din, welcoming her to the stage. She swallows and feels her face heat. There are those eyes again. She shakes her head, insisting someone else can have her turn. No one wants it. They want to see Ginny sing.

Over a rousing chant of her name, Ginny rises to her feet. She avoids Shawn’s curious glance and ascends, ducking over the side of the stage to the DJ to request her song.

She makes herself comfortable under the spotlight. She can’t see anyone. Her heart rate calms. It’s just a stage. It’s just a song. This is what Ginny knows, this is where she shines.

The music begins. A few cheering calls go up when the tinkling, synthy 90s keyboard tune rises, but she recognizes the shift of the room, too. It happens every time she sings Whitney, because no one ever expects a random woman at a karaoke bar to be able to do it justice.

Ginny closes her eyes. She wraps her fingers around her mic and leans into the feeling of perfect aloneness she feels on stage. The audience is out of sight, out of mind -- if she can’t see them, they can’t see her. And if they can’t see her, if those eyes are finally gone, she can just feel.

She wets her lips and feels goosebumps prick up down the length of her arms at the tinny snap of the horns that precede the vocals dropping in for the first verse.

Ginny takes a deep breath. She smoothes a hand down the mic stand and back up, leaving her eyes closed under the hot pulse of the house lights as she starts to sing.

Share my life, take me for what I am

Cause I’ll never change all my colors for you

Take my love, I’ll never ask for too much

Just all that you are, and everything that you do

Ginny’s warm, weathered-heart voice glides over the softness of Whitney’s words. It’s effortless and sweet, despite the sting she feels in every pore of her body.

The tempo starts to pick up. The music rises in perfect 90s power ballad style. Ginny’s voice firms up with it, deepens and hardens as she resigns herself to the exposure.

It’s just a stage. It’s just a song.

I don’t really need to look very much further

I don’t want to have to go where you don’t follow

I will hold it back again, this passion inside

Can’t run from myself, there’s nowhere to hide

It’s on the last rising, vibrato-shaken note of the pre-chorus that the rest of the audience joins her team in their certainty that Ginny can handle some Whitney. They show their support with some whoops and hollers.

Don’t make me close one more door

I don’t want to hurt anymore

Stay in my arms if you dare

Or must I imagine you there

Don’t walk away from me

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have you

Ginny opens her eyes. She sees shifting black shapes before her. She reaches for them as her voice carries, strong and nimble, just as she is. She lifts the mic from the stand and works the stage to the delight of her invisible audience.

She can’t see them, she doesn’t want to see them, but they can see her, whether she likes it or not.

They see the way she stretches and pulls at every word like she wrote them herself. They can see from the clench of her shut eyes and the strain of her throat that she’s never sung this song this way before. She’s never felt it like this before.

Andrew looks away, closes his eyes for fear of letting the tears fall. He can’t bear to watch, but listening is one of the true privileges of his years of friendship with Ginny. He bobs his head and tries to keep his cool.

Zubin and Mike exchange a glance, but otherwise don’t take their eyes off her. Geoff sips at his beer and stays quiet, sniffling to himself. Ziggy is mesmerized, rocking in his chair, nodding to the beat, eyes wide as saucers. Cez looks between Andrew and Geoff, chewing the inside of his lip as his chest grows tight. Jake and Josiah, each sitting beside Shawn, fight not to stare at him.

Ginny’s voice soars into the final repetition of the chorus. Andrew winces at the now raucous cheering of the audience that he knows Ginny can’t even hear. She returns to the stand and stretches her arms out like she intends to take flight.

Don’t make me close one more door,

I don’t want to hurt anymore

Stay in my arms if you dare

Or must I imagine you there

Don’t walk away from me

She shakes her head, shoves her hands into her hair and wails.

Don’t you dare walk away from me

I have nothing, nothing, nothing

If I don’t have you

Her voice grows quiet. Her arms fall limp to hang on the mic stand by the tips of her fingers. Her shoulders sink, hunching with exhaustion from the strength of her release. As she coos through Whitney’s last winding vocal runs, matching them with ease, Andrew scrubs at his cheeks, rubbing the wetness on the thighs of his jeans. He sees from the corner of his eye that he’s not alone in this.

When Ginny’s voice fades out, she swallows. The club is nearly in a riot. The DJ has gotten up onto the stage behind her to cheer with the rest of the unwitting barflies. She blinks, eyes and throat dry, body numb as she watches a very tall figure open the door of the bar to exit.

She doesn’t have to check his seat. She knows him down to the silhouette.

She stands in the center of the stage, wetting her lips, letting the applause slide off her and hit the floor. She watches the door shut, Shawn on the other side. It’s a full minute before the cheering dies down enough for the DJ to announce the next name.

Ginny steps down, walking past the curious, adoring eyes of new fans. She slips back into her seat like she never left. She doesn’t look at the empty one he left.

She looks down into her amber glass and traces her fingers around the condensation trails.

She feels the eyes again, so she closes hers and waits for them to look away.

I’d love to blame watching Endgame for a second time last night for the angstiness of this but the truth is, it’s been planned since I came up with the premise. Buy me a Ko-fi (linked on main page) anyway?

Taglist: @smallerinfinities @the-claire-bitch-project @achinglyshawn @infiniteshawn @mendesoft @singanddreamanyway @alone-in-madness @abigfatmess @shawnitsmutual @awkwardfangirl2014 @september-lace @thotfulalena @sinplisticshawn @rollingxstone @yslsaint @randi-eve @sauveteen @fallmoreinlove @voguemnds

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fan fic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes fan fiction #shawn peter raul mendes #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes series

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atlfics · 4 years

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Spreading- All Time Low Fanfiction

Alex gets sick from a member of their opening band on tour. Word Count: 2264

More notes at the end.

“What’re we doing tomorrow? We have a day off,” Zack asked as he walked onto he bus with the rest of the band.

“Well, I think we’re just having a relaxing off day, some of the guys in We The Kings have been under the weather, and I wouldn’t want to exclude them from anything super fun that we could do,” Alex replied.

“Alex, I was talking with them before we went on, and they said they’re all doing better now. I think we’re going to do something with them,” Jack said.

“Yeah, I was talking to Travis, and I think we’re having lunch at eleven, then going to a movie or the mall,” Rian explained.

“I didn’t know any of this. When was this all decided?” Alex asked back.

“When you took a nap after soundcheck,” Zack replied.

“Oh, well, are we sure we shouldn’t just let them rest? We have a lot more touring to do, and they should rest if they’re not feeling totally better,” Alex continued.

“Um, no, I want to hang out with them. I know you spent some time with them backstage taking care of them before the shows and stuff, but we can all finally have some fun guy time again,” Jack replied.

“Yeah dude, you seem to be the only one who doesn’t want to hang out with them tomorrow. Is everything okay?” Rian asked.

“Yeah, I’m okay, I just wanted to make sure. Well, that show wiped me out, I’m going to head to bed. I’ll see you guys in the morning,” Alex said. Before any of his bandmates could say anything, Alex walked to the bunk area, and changed into his PJs. Once that was done, he climbed into his bunk and shut the curtain for some privacy.

Alex was actually hoping that they’d spend their off day doing nothing, because he didn’t feel quite right. He’d felt a bit off all day and noticed a dull ache in his stomach about halfway through the show they’d just played. He knew that he was most likely coming down with something, but he hoped that it wouldn’t be as bad as what his friends in the other band had.

Alex thought that by sleeping early, he might be able to tackle whatever he was getting before it could really get started. After scrolling through some things on his phone, Alex turned on his side and shut his eyes. The pain in his stomach made it hard for him to get comfortable, but he eventually found a position that would be good enough and drifted off to sleep.

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

Alex opened his eyes to nothing; everything was pitch black. It didn’t take him long to notice the now unbearable pain in his stomach. He sat up and put a hand to his stomach, hoping to calm himself some. As he sat up, he noticed some sweat in his bed, surprising him because of how cold he felt. It was the prominent aches in his back that really convinced him that he had some kind of flu, much to his annoyance.

He tried to shut his eyes and go back to sleep, but the pain in his stomach turned into intense nausea, and Alex knew what would come next. Once he took a deep breath, he got out of his bunk and made his way to the bus bathroom. He quietly shut the door before sitting in front of the toilet.

Almost immediately, he started to get sick, hugging himself in hopes that it would help him comfort himself. Normally when he was sick like this, Jack would be with him, heling him in any way that he could. Alex didn’t want to get Jack this time, because he didn’t want to bother him, and he didn’t want to mess up their plans for the next day with the other band.

As he continued to get sick, Alex tried to think of the last time he felt so bad but couldn’t come up with anything. After about ten minutes, Alex decided that he was done, so he cleaned himself up before going back to his bunk. He propped his pillows so that he could sit up some, since he knew that laying down would just upset his stomach more. His stomach still hurt quite a bit, but Alex was eventually able to fall back to sleep.

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

When Jack woke up, he could immediately tell that something wasn’t right. He turned on his phone to look at the time and saw that it was a little after eight. This was early for him but since they had plans in a few hours, he decided to just stay awake. He decided that he wanted to get some breakfast to hold him over until lunch, so he got out of bed and went to the front lounge.

After grabbing a cereal bar, he sat at the table and started looking at his phone. Not long after, he heard a groan come from the bathroom, confusing him. He decided to let whoever was in there be until they came out, not wanting to overstep.

After a few more minutes, the door opened, and Alex peaked his head out before walking out of the bathroom. Jack noticed that he looked a bit pale and uncomfortable and knew that this wasn’t good.

“Alex, are you okay?” Jack asked his friend.

“Yeah, I’m just fine, why?” Alex asked, trying to brush off Jack’s question.

“Are you sure? I heard you, um, making noises in the bathroom,” Jack replied.

“Oh, it was just because I’m tired, nothing to worry about. I’m going back to my bunk, I’m not ready to be awake yet,” Alex said, leaving the room before Jack could reply. Jack knew that something wasn’t right, and he hoped that Alex wouldn’t try to hide whatever it was for too long.

Meanwhile, Alex climbed back into his bunk, and tried to prop himself up again. he still felt very sick to his stomach, but he didn’t want to ruin their plans, so Alex set an alarm on his phone, then closed his eyes, hoping that he’d feel better when he woke up.

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

“Alex, come on, we’re going to be there in, like, five minutes!” Rian exclaimed from the front lounge. It was now right before eleven, and the bus was almost to the restaurant that they’d be eating with the other band at.

Alex was able to make it the entire time between talking to Jack and now without getting sick again, but he still felt awful, and he knew that if he ate anything, he’d just get sick again. Before he showered, he took his temperature, and saw that it was in the one hundreds, showing him that he was actually really sick. Despite this, he really wanted to at least make it through lunch, so he forced himself out of his bunk and to the front lounge.

“Finally, that took you forever, dude,” Rian pointed out.

“Actually, you don’t look quite like yourself, are you okay?” Zack asked, sounding concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just-“ Alex cut himself off as the bus hit a large bump in the road, making Alex’s already upset stomach feel much worse. As he gagged his bandmates’ eyes all widened in concern.

“Alex, dude, are you okay?” Rian quickly asked.

“I’m going to-“ Alex stopped himself again, putting a hand to his mouth before running to the bus bathroom. He sat on the ground and immediately started to get sick.

Not much later, Jack came in, and sat on the ground, putting a hand to Alex’s back as he continued to get sick. This made Jack realize that Alex felt very warm and sweaty, even though he could feel him shaking some. Once Alex finally got a break, he leaned against Jack, and put his head in his hands.

“So, are you still going to try and convince us that you’re fine?” Jack asked sarcastically.

“Don’t be mean, I feel shitty,” Alex whined back.

“I can tell, you’re burning up, dude,” Jack replied.

“Can we go back to the lounge? If I have to talk about this, I want to explain it all once, and not three separate times,” Alex mumbled.

“As long as you’re done here, come on, let’s go,” Jack said, helping Alex to his feet. Once Alex was cleaned up, Jack took him to the lounge and sat him down on the couch.

“Are you okay? Did you get motion sick or something?” Zack asked.

“No, I’m a bit sick. I think I picked this up from the other band when I took care of them,” Alex explained.

“Really? I thought they all just had bad head colds,” Rian stated.

“Well, they did, but Travis had a stomach bug the first day he was sick. I was the only one out of both of our bands willing to help him, and now I see why,” Alex replied.

“Well, this sucks for you man, we have a show tomorrow night,” Zack pointed out.

“Yeah, I know. We’ll be, like, in the middle of Lost in Stereo or something, and I’ll have to run offstage and shit,” Alex said, sounding frustrated.

“You two go on out to lunch with the other guys, I’m going to stay here with Alex,” Jack decided.

“No dude, you should go with them. I mean, all I can really do right now is sleep and puke. You were so excited for this, you really don’t have to stay,” Alex replied.

“Well, I know you don’t like being sick alone, and you’ve helped me out on quite a few hangover days recently, so consider this a thank you,” Jack said, making Alex smile some.

“If you’re sure, Jack. Just, please, don’t get sick, too. One sick band member is more than enough,” Zack said back.

“I’ll be fine, you two have fun and I’ll make sure that Alex doesn’t die,” Jack said, making everyone laugh some.

“If you two need anything, text us,” Rian said, walking off of the bus with Zack.

“Okay, put your PJs back on, I know you’re not going to be comfortable in that,” Jack said, gesturing to Alex’s jeans and jacket.

“Okay, are you going to meet me in the back lounge?” Alex asked.

“Yeah, now get comfortable and I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Jack replied. Alex quickly changed, then grabbed his blanket and pillow before going to the back. He got himself comfortable on the couch before Jack came in.

“Have you taken your temperature?” Jack asked, setting some stuff down on the table.

“Earlier, yeah, it was one hundred something,” Alex replied.

“Okay, take these fever reducers and anti-nausea shit. We’ll see how that goes, and put on a movie to pass the time,” Jack said, turning on the TV. Once he flipped through a few channels, he saw that one of the Harry Potter movies was on, and put it on, since he knew Alex liked it.

Not too far into the movie, Alex’s stomach started to churn again, and he looked up at Jack.

“Jack,” he said in a strained voice.

“What’s up, Alex?” Jack asked back.

“I feel nauseous,” Alex replied.

“Do you think you’re going to puke?” Jack continued.

“I think so. I don’t feel as bad as I did when I threw up before, but I still feel really bad,” Alex replied, holding his stomach.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom, it’s probably better for you to be in there than in here right now,” Jack stated. He helped Alex to his feet, and down the hall to the bathroom. They sat on the floor, and Jack put a hand to Alex’s back as Alex lowered his head. After a few minutes, nothing happened.

“Are you sure that you’re going to throw up? I don’t mind sitting here with you, but you’ll be a lot more comfortable on the couch,” Jack suggested.

“I don’t know, but I don’t want to get in there then have to run back here to get sick,” Alex replied.

“Fair enough. We can stay here for as long as you need to,” Jack replied. A little more time passed, then Alex started to gag some. Jack helped him sit up right before he started to get sick. Once he was done, he leaned up against Jack and started shaking.

“Alex, you’re shaking,” Jack observed.

“I’m cold, I want my blanket,” Alex replied, hugging himself. Jack helped him clean up, then back out to the lounge. Jack tucked Alex in, then wrapped him into a hug for extra warmth.

“Thank you for staying, you were right, I do hate being alone while sick,” Alex said into Jack’s side.

“Yeah, you said that last time you had a stomach bug. Do you really think I would’ve left you here to feel miserable alone?” Jack asked back.

“You’re the best, thanks for making a shitty day a little more bearable. Also, sorry in advance if I get sick on you,” Alex said, laughing some.

“If you get sick on me, you’re out of the band,” Jack said, laughing as well. The two of them spent their day watching movies, and Jack helped Alex get sick a few more times.

Alex felt much better the next day and was able to do the show. Once the show was over, everyone in All Time Low went back to their bus and brainstormed funny pranks to get even with We The Kings for getting Alex sick.

A/N: Hey guys, this is a request from someone on here! I don't have any more requests to work on as of now, so please send more in! It feels weird not having anything to write in my free time!! I have a long story going up tomorrow that I wrote a while ago, and I'm excited to post it for you guys!! I hope that you all have a great New Years, and I can't wait to keep writing for you all in 2020! Lots of love, Liv.

#Alex Gaskarth #Jack Barakat #Rian Dawson #Zack Merrick #all time low #ATL #rpf #sickfic #atl sickfic #atlsickfic #Jalex

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zodiacal-dust-and-curls · 5 years

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It’s Late (Ch 1)

A/N: This is a work of fiction! It takes place in an altered universe where certain member's partners don’t exist. Should line up with the Sheer Heart Attack tour. No one requested this. @rogers-wristbands was kind enough to proof read for me (thank you, love). I’ve been told that I’m no longer allowed to come for anyone’s whole life just because I’m sad (bc I definitely did. I came for my own favorite.) Enjoy!

Warnings: Angst (like you wouldn’t believe), Cheating (very bad. I do not condone this), Pregnancy (Unplanned), Mention of Abortion, Swearing

Word Count: 1.6k

The boys had been on tour for about a month now. It felt much longer than that thanks to waking up to a routinely empty bed. You’d had phone calls nightly, but a disembodied voice did nothing to soothe the ache that was beginning to burn through your soul.

Brian usually called you at the same time every night. Just before you went to bed, which was before the show started but after soundcheck. Tonight, the call was running late. John had managed to sneak a call in to check on his favorite un-biological sibling. Yes, he really insisted on using that term, just to get under your skin and drive you a little crazy. After years of pretending to hate it, you’d grown quite fond of it and missed hearing it while he was away.

“What do you mean he hasn’t called?” You’d swear you could see his eyebrows furrowing through the line, his mouth managing to flatten and pout at the same time. “He left 30 minutes ago to go back to his room and change before the show. He’s had plenty of time.”

“I guess I’ll just have to be the one to call tonight.” You said a little wistfully, Something wasn’t sitting right with you. “Can I have the number for your hotel?”

“Sure. Ask for room 615.”

“Dr. M’s room. How can I help you?” It came through the line too giggly, too feminine, and absolutely wrong.

“If you could put Mr. May on, I’d appreciate it.” You managed to hide the venom in your voice surprisingly well, but you were sure your facial expression told a very different story. Thank the powers that be for telephones not having a video option.

“Briiii ~ phone for you.” The mystery woman called out.

“Who is it Junie?” You heard call back.

“They didn’t say, but they did ask for you by name.” She must have forgotten to cover the receiver because the amount of giggling you heard next was enough to make you forget all the coolness you had purposefully injected into your tone.

“Hello?” This voice you knew. You’d heard it every night for the last 12 months either in person or over the phone.

“Hello, Bri.” The malice in your voice was clear. You could hear the blood draining from his face over the line. “Lose my number and don’t bother coming to see me when you get back. Tell Junie I said hello.” The last thing he heard was a click then a dial tone.

The show that night was a disaster. John had told you as much the next morning when he called to chew you out for messing with the guitarist’s head. The conversation quickly turned around when you told him what had happened.

You still got nightly phone calls, but now it was your oldest friend and confidant instead of the man you thought you loved.

About 2 weeks after the switch, you noticed you were feeling sick all the time. You’d mentioned it to John and promised to see a doctor if it stayed that way for more than a week.

“Johnnie,” you breathed out in a sigh of relief when the phone rang that night. True to your word, you’d gone to the doctor after feeling like crap for a week. “I’m so happy to hear your voice right now.” It was starting to come out in sobs, all your forced composure slipping from your grip.

“Hey, hey, Y/N. Breathe.” He whispered to you and hoped that his words would provide the comfort that his arms could not. “What happened? What did the doctor say?”

“John . . . I’m pregnant.”

The silence that followed was not what you were hoping for, but you knew it was a distinct possibility. John quietly followed it with death threats to the only person he knew could be the father and promises to support you with any decision you made.

The band would be home in 2 weeks for a short break. Brian seemed to have lost your number and you had no intention of looking up one for him to tell him this news. You told John that you still had time to make your decisions and wanted to see him in person before making anything real.

The day had finally come. You were estimated to be about 8 weeks pregnant. John had promised to come see you before running off to Veronica’s. As a man of his word, he knocked on your door early that afternoon and scooped you into a hug. You weren’t ready for that hug to send you spiraling into a mass of tears, but it did. Having John back meant decisions had to be made, people had to be told, things had to be done.

The one thing you knew for sure was that ‘having some sort of an accident’ was completely out of the question. The little bean growing inside you was partly you. They had been your most constant companion through all the heartbreak and anger you’d endured. Your little bean was going to live, you just weren’t sure you were the best option for a parent.

John once again kept his promises and supported your decision. He hadn’t told a single soul of your situation, but now it wouldn’t be a secret for much longer. The break was only for a week to regroup with loved ones before continuing the tour. If you were going to keep bean, there was someone you’d have to tell and a signature you’d have to collect.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” You had heard those words too often in the last few weeks. First from John, then your parents, and now from Brian.

“And what would you propose as an alternative, Mr. May?” You had said his name with such contempt that it would be difficult for a passerby to believe you’d been in a loving relationship at any point in time.

Brian just looked at you sadly. He’d never gotten the chance to apologize and it looked like he wasn’t going to. You had come over, accompanied by John, to inform him of your new situation and get him to sign away his parental rights. If you were going to have your little bean, Brian would have no say in the matter.

“It’s just that this is my child too, Y/N,” he had always wanted to be a dad one day. It broke his heart that his eldest child wouldn’t get to know him.

“Are you joking?” Something about your quickly shifting hormones pushed you to anger quite often. At this moment you could feel it pulsing through your veins and pooling in your stomach, as if to make a protective cover for your little bean that was growing there. “You wouldn’t even know if I didn’t need you to sign this. As far as I’m concerned, you lost all privileges to have a say in how I conduct my life the moment that woman entered your room.”

Brian wanted to bite back at you. He wanted to be angry, but the only person he could find at fault was himself. He slowly signed the document and passed it to you.

John had been characteristically quiet throughout the whole exchange. He just watched for the moment things went to far and he would need to intervene, but it never came.

“Good bye, Mr. May, and good luck with your future endeavors.” You removed some of the anger from your voice as you said your good-bye, opting for a cool if almost business like tone. You could feel John watching you, waiting for the next outburst.

“Good bye, Y/N. John.” Brian let you leave without trying to convince you of anything further.

You were lucky to make it through the majority of your pregnancy with minimal complications. Morning sickness was a bitch, but it ended early in your second trimester. John delivered a bit of good news the same day your morning sickness ended.

Veronica was pregnant, too. You had someone to formally bond with while you made it through your journey. Also, your little bean would have a lifelong friend, just like you did.

With the band wrapping up a tour and planning to record every day, you and Veronica grew very close. So much so that John started to feel like he was being replaced by his own wife. You reassured him of his importance in your life by asking the two of them to be godparents. They gladly accepted.

Days came and went as time passed you by. You’d been so busy preparing for the little one to finally make their appearance, that you were almost shocked when your water broke. Luckily, a phone call to the Deacon residence (and to your parents) gathered all the necessary people to meet you at the hospital.

Several hours later, you were greeted by two smiling faces holding a small white bundle. Labor for you had been intense and after the initial skin contact, you more or less passed out.

“Good morning, mumma.” You heard Ronnie’s sweet voice greet you as you turned your head to look at her.

“Good morning.” You smiled gently, still extremely tired from delivery, but absolutely delighted that John and Veronica had waited to see you.

“I hope you don’t mind, darling, but we couldn’t stop ourselves from seeing our godchild.” John spoke this time. He only called you darling when he really wanted something from you, or when he was feeling extremely vulnerable.

“Of course not.” You smiled at the pair of them, feeling something loosen in your chest. In just a few short weeks, you’d be back for their little nugget’s delivery. “However, I do think that it’s breakfast time for the two of us.”

“Quite right, Y/N.” Veronica passed you the bundle she’d been holding.

Looking at your little girl made you so incredibly happy. Thank heavens you had decided to keep her, your little bean. She made everything worth it.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this and I’m sorry. Leave me some feedback! I’d love to come for someone else’s fave.

Ch 2 - Ch 3

#queen #queen fic #brian may x reader #brian may angst #john deacon #veronica tetzlaff #tw: pregnancy #tw: abortion #pregancy #abortion mention #tw: children #children #t writes #nsfr #queen imagine #queen angst #it's late

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chillmichelle · 6 years

Text

Marriage and Failure

Y/N Feels their marriage slipping away, and her insecurity increasing

Word Count: 3.4k+

It’s almost entirely angst

Marriage is a term that seems to have an entirely subjective meaning. To some, marriage is a way of solidifying an ever growing union of love between two individuals; some view marriage as an opportunity for celebration and gloating to all those around them. Marriage can be a complicated series of political relationships or shareholding trades.

But to Harry and Y/n, marriage was sneaking away from press releases early to watch a lowly rated 2000’s movie and consume cheap thin crust pizza while laughing under the sheets of a crumb stained mattress. Marriage was gifting each other stuffed animals in the shapes of their favorite 90’s cartoon characters spontaneously.

Marriage was Y/n and Harry standing at their own wedding during the time of their slow dance, both enamored by nothing but each other's presence. Marriage was Harry leaning over during Y/n’s sister’s drunken toast and whispering “I’d rather be watching Legally Blonde with you right about now” before softly kissing her forehead, muttering a low “Love you, pet”.

And for a while, that’s what marriage was.

Sometimes, Y/n would be slicing fruit to blend in her afternoon smoothie, and she’d notice a new set of paints Harry had purchased for her on the way back from his studio session. And despite the fact that Y/n had told him multiple times that she had more than enough art supplies from his constant gifts, he’d always buy her more, as if it were a way of encouraging her talents. Y/n constantly painted then, selling her work filled with the uplifting inspirations of her relationship to numerous buyers. Her art room always seems to be in use, and finished paintings hung up on the walls waiting to be preserved and framed before being displayed in the city’s finest museums.

And when her wrists ached from constantly holding easels and brushes, and her neck ached from angling her head down when painting her artwork, Harry would be ready in bed to rub the knots out of her loving body. He would adorn her neck with kisses, press him thumbs into her wrist, and melt into her. They each held pieces of each other wherever they went.

“Inseparable” was the word Mitch used to describe them whenever he witnessed Harry asking Y/n about her art everytime she got a moment alone at her art display. He was like a giddy lovesick teenager, waiting profusely for the onlooker Y/n was speaking with to end the conversation so he could speak to her again.

Whenever Harry would wrap his arms around Y/n’s waist from behind, she would memorize the way his fingers slid across her skin, the warmth and delicacy of his soft fingertips. The way that her head fit perfectly beneath his chin as if they were built for eachother.

Harry noticed things, too.

Like how Y/n would hold onto his ring and pinky fingers because her hands were far too small for Harry’s long slender fingers. How - after a while of lying with each other, y/n’s breaths would sync up with his own instinctively.

He noticed the way her thumbs would rub small circles onto his skin when she held him, and when they were apart for more than a mere few hours he swore he could feel the light ghosting of her fingertips rubbing circles on his chest every second he missed her.

It was September when Harry left for his fourth world tour. The leaves were mostly green, and still very much stuck to the branches of the aging trees, but a few yellow leaves occasionally scattered the lush green rows on Y/n’s walk to the art gallery.

Harry had assured her that he would call her when he landed. The first leg of his tour was in Europe, so the time difference was a mere 6 hours from their home in New York City.

Y/n had always seen older married couples talking about how their spark had eventually faded, or complaining about how their love was merely a shadow of what it once was. But she had yet to feel that with Harry in their first year of marriage. She still felt her mind focused on the happiness of hearing from him later on, her heart thumping just a bit faster at the thought of speaking to him again.

As far as Y/n was concerned, they were still the same love blinded millennials they had been at the start of their relationship prior to marriage, and they both loved every second of it.

The flight tracking app Y/n had installed that morning stated that Harry’s flight had landed 4 hours ago, but taking into consideration the customs process, the drive to the hotel, and the check-in, Y/n chose to ignore the miniscule voice inside of her head telling her to worry.

So she spends the rest of the day being inspired at her favorite art gallery, trying to ignore the small itch in her mind telling her to call her husband and see what he’s doing. She grabs an overpriced but tiny chocolate croissant from a local bakery run by an old woman in downtown New York, and walks back to her and Harry’s shared apartment.

When she gets to their penthouse, Y/n strips herself of her sweater and her leggings before jumping into her shower. She turns her shower playlist on, only to realize that almost all of the songs are her husbands, the man she’s striving not to miss dearly as her heart feels heavier when she hears his voice in song instead of in person.

She finally finds a slower song she sings along to while shampooing her hair, when a soft ding from her phone temporarily interrupts her music. Y/n immediately stops her lathering and washes the bubbles off of her fingers (while admiring her wedding band just a little bit in the process). She reaches for her phone with slightly damp fingers and a hopeful heart, but is almost immediately disappointed when she reads the text message before her.

“Hey pet. Just landed. Tired, i’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, xx”

She’s well aware of the fact that his flight landed hours ago, but decides not to read into it too much. She comes up with the excuse that he probably sent it when he first landed, but it didn’t go through until now. But she can’t help but feel like she shouldn’t need to convince herself of anything.

The next day, Harry calls Y/n early in the morning. As she washes her face right after waking up on her side of the bed, she hears her phone ringing and immediately runs towards it.

“Hey, Pet” She hears a quiet voice from the other end of the line. Harry seems as if he’s whispering more than speaking into the phone, which makes Y/n giggle a bit before replying.

“Hey, love” She addresses him before adding on, “Why are we whispering?”. Harry lets out an audible chuckle before the line goes silent for a few moments.

“...Harry?” Y/n eventually asks into the line again, awaiting a response to her originally rhetorical question. Her interest has now been sparked, and she wonders what the reason is behind his quiet tone.

“Oh, yeah. It’s just, Mitch fell asleep in my room and ‘m trying my best not to wake him.” He quietly replies. Y/n nods in understanding although he can’t see her and tries to think up something to say next.

“How’s Italy?” Y/n asks. It seems like a basic question but it’s the best she can think up having just awoken from sleep.

“Amazing. Would love it a lot more if you were here with me though, you’d love the colors here, darling.”

Y/n’s face breaks out into a grin and she can tell he’s smiling on the other side of the phone as well. Y/n slips on her furry sandals to keep her feet warm as she ventures downstairs, her phone pressed firmly to her cheek as she replies, “Well I might take you up on that offer sometime.”

her moment of happiness is short lived, however, because as soon as Harry is with her, he’s gone. She doesn’t hear a response from the other side of the line, but rather fragments of a conversation between Harry and someone else. She’s pondering as to whether or not Harry heard her response when he mutters a normal toned, “Sorry, love. I have to go. I’ll call you back tomorrow. I miss yeh.”

This is all he states before the line goes quiet. She mutters back a small “I love you”, as if he’s still somehow on the other side of the line.

Harry doesn’t call her back the next day. In fact, he doesn’t even make an effort to text her.

She checks social media to see photos of him walking around Milan on his cell phone, and she can’t help but wonder what exactly he’s so immersed in doing that takes up all of his time, not even sparing 5 minutes out of his day that he could use to speak with her.

It’s after this that she slowly descends into madness.

On the second day of not speaking to him, she plays mini games on her phone until the battery runs dry. She figures it’s what’s best for her productivity. Waiting for a text message from her husband wasn’t going to do her career any good. She figure she’ll add to, or maybe even finish some art pieces, and then she’ll get back to her device.

She ends up turning it on, only to be met with no text messages or calls from the man she’s hopelessly in love with.

Within the next few days Y/n excuses his quietness, she ignores his absence, and she comes up with viable excuses as to why he’s acting the way that he is. She figures that he’s “Just in soundcheck” or “Taking pictures with his fans” or “Having fun exploring the city”. But she can’t help but think back on his last two tours, when they were dating but he would manage to call her for hours a day.

When a week passes, y/n decides to call him for herself. Her call doesn’t go to voicemail, but stops ringing after two rings. After she calls him again, the call ends before it even begins. She knows he’s rejecting her calls purposely, but she doesn’t address the issue and focus on her own problems instead. The stress placed upon her relationship was affecting her artwork, she hadn’t finished or started any pieces since Harry had gone.

Feeling a new fit of anger towards her husband for the first time since her marriage she trudges upstairs to her art room and grab red paints - lots of them.

She never expected for their marriage to turn out this way.

After 2 weeks of sudden lost contact from her husband, y/n blames herself. She wonders if she’s being too clingy and dependent on Harry, and she blames herself for him no longer speaking with her. She thinks of all the possible reasons he has to ignore her.

Europe has a lot of fashion savvy places, did he see the models there and realize i’m not enough?

Maybe I was too overbearing.

Did I bore him?

And then she sees the pictures.

His hand seems to engulf almost all of her thin waist. He smiles, a deep dimpled, love stricken, smile at her as he walks her out of the doors of a restaurant in Milan. Her nose curves perfectly where hers bumps, her legs smooth out into perfect porcelain skin where hers toughen at her knees. Her clothes seem too loose on her clothes all of a sudden, her face a bit too bare for his liking.

Y/n looks into the mirror and all that she can see is the woman who her own husband abandoned. And instead of blaming him, as she most definitely should, she blames the stretch marks forming light tiger stripes on her thighs. She blames the mess of paint and uneven fingernails across her hands from her artistry. Blames the vulgarity of her words and the elegance she lacks as opposed to the woman he now seems to make time for.

“There was no need for publicity. He’s married. He did it for himself.” She thinks.

Y/n breaks a bit that night. And since he’s a part of her, she wonder if he can feel her breaking from across the world.

Y/n still denies what she sees. She chooses to push away the narrative that she married a man who dared to be unfaithful to her.

Harry flies in during a one week gap between two tour dates in Europe.

He feels guilt enveloping him the second his feet hit the driveway in front of his home.

He cheated on her.

The pictures were leaked to the media weeks after the event occured. They had met, as friends. But after a while of taking too many drinks, the drinks drove him to make irrational decisions.

Harry thinks he should’ve noticed when he held her that night. Thinks he should’ve noticed that her nimble fingers were curled greedily around his arms, squeezing them instead of delicately rubbing circles into his soft torso.

Should’ve noticed how her breathing was too uneven and rapid to sync up to his. How her fingers were too pampered, to the point where his eyes welled up in tears when her acrylic nails dug their way into his spine.

He opens the front door with his luggage still in his car. He assumes she won’t want him to stay in their home, and decides to keep it in the car instead of taking it in just to bring it back out.

The door creaks open, and instead of being greeted by the smell of freshly baked cookies or vanilla perfume, he’s met with the lingering scent of expensive perfume. He hears footsteps thud from upstairs and braces himself for the inevitable result of her leaving him. He can’t even forgive himself for what he did, why would she ever?

But he’s shocked when Y/n eagerly hops down the stairs, running up to him to engulf him in a hug.

And even though Harry knows he’s infinitely selfish for ignoring her, and even more selfish for ignoring her as if she means nothing to him, he holds her small frame for as long as he can. He inhales the horrible scent of women’s perfume, but withstands it if it means he can be with her.

Y/n wonders if he hugs her tightly because she reminds him of the girl he was with. She wonders if she can make him stay as long as she continues to at as she does.

Did you ever love me?

She wonders if he was disgusted by her short stature. Wonders if he’d rather her do something like modelling where her hands aren’t calloused and she wears trendy clothing instead of old clothes she can spare to get splattered with paint.

“I missed you.” He mutters in surprise. She smiles up at him, pretending that they’re alright for now. She fiddles with her fingers, her newly done false nails being a nuisance in everything she does.

“Have you lose weight, love?” Harry asks, observing the way her hip bones nearly pop out through the thick fabric of her leggings. Instead of frowning at his apparent concern, she smiles and nods shyly at him.

“Yeah. Started going to the gym last week. Where are your bags?” She asks, before he has the option to shift the subject back onto her sudden weight loss. He mumbles “in the car” quietly, and Y/n kisses his cheek before telling him to go ahead and take a shower while she throws his clothes in the wash.

Harry jogs upstairs to the bathroom in their shared bedroom, before realizing that their bathroom is out of shampoo. He quickly walks to the small storage closet on the other side of the hallway and grabs another bottle. But on the way back to his bedroom he stops in his tracks when he sees the door to Y/n’s art room closed.

Y/n had generally always kept the room open, only closing it when they had guests over or went away on vacation. She had mentioned how leaving the door opened “Sparked an encouraging mindset” for her to pursue her art. Finding the sudden change strange, he twists the knob to the room before opening it.

The frames she uses to place her completed works in have gathered dust in the same corner they were in before Harry left. Her artwork scatters, hung up in different pins, but all incomplete.

Harry is so immersed in the similar color patterns of her recent works that he doesn’t notice her walk up the stairs and she surprisingly appears behind him.

“You don’t paint anymore.” He simply states. She remains quiet.

“Why?” He asks as he turns his head to look at her. She stares at a sketch in the corner of her art room, a redepiction of their wedding photo done by her. In the picture, she stares in awe as Harry grabs her hands, stained with different shades of blue from her oil pastels, and admires the wedding band on her finger.

She looks down at her plastic fingernails. The ones she wasted money on so that she could be just a little bit more desirable, so that she could keep her husband from leaving her again, and she feels ashamed. She’s overwhelmed with so many emotions that she can’t help but let out a loud sob as she collapses onto her knees and shoves her face into her clean hands.

“Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong, pet?” Harry asks, stroking his fingers through her slightly tangly hair.

“Gee Harry, what could possibly be wrong?” She replies, all of a sudden feeling a surge of rage hit her. “For starters, we haven’t talked in weeks.”

Her head is in inner turmoil as she weighs her options. She fears that if she allows herself to be angry at him, he may find comfort in someone else again. She’s torn between wanting him, and knowing that having him could potentially destroy her just as badly.

“We” She removes a hair that’s stuck to her tear stricken face, “We shouldn’t have gotten married.” She cries, sitting down properly and pulling her knees into her chest as he kneels in front of her.

“W-What do you mean?” He asks.

“We shouldn’t have agreed to make a commitment for the rest of our lives when you couldn’t even commit for a year, Harry” She shakes her head.

He doesn’t cry, and although from the outside he may look less broken than her, guilt and panic and inner turmoil eats at him from the inside out.

“I love you.” He grabs her left hand, kissing the weirdly soft skin where her ring finger meets her wedding ring.

“Stop avoiding the problem Harry!” She snatches her hand from his grasp, her sharp nails probably scratching his hands in the process.

“You’re driving me insane. Absolutely insane! You told me that dating models was just a facade placed on you by the media, you told me you loved me, and then you replaced me with her the second I wasn’t there.”

He gulps as she yells at him, knowing of the dangerous places the argument could lead.

“I tried to-” She coughs from her own tears, “I tried to change for you, Harry. I bought this stupid fucking perfume, and I did my nails like she did, and I went to the gym and I fixed myself because I thought this was my fault.” Y/n looks down at her hands, feeling how different they were from before the tour started, when she was content with Harry.

Harry stares at her intently, his eyes finally welling up in tears. He wonders if he should hold her, or get on his knees and beg for her forgiveness. He’s never been more heartbroken in his life than he is in this moment, he thinks.

Of all of the different things marriage could possibly mean, they never thought theirs would be the one that meant failure.

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bananashemmo · 5 years

Text

On The Road

Pairing: Y/N/Ashton

Rating: All

Request: No

Words: 2.000+

Summary: Confused as to where Ashton has left, Y/N slips out of their bunk to find him sitting with Calum smoking and enjoying one of the many random views on the road.

It was the empty cold spot right next to you that made your eyes flutter open.

You couldn’t see anything at first, it was completely black in the bunk. Not even the small lamp on the right side of the panel was turned on. It was only the small lampposts coming from outside that shined in through the curtain.

At first, it was just your mind playing a game. But when you carefully tried to turn around you were met by almost falling out of your bunk.

Ashton definitely wasn’t here.

Usually, he would be the one to sleep towards the carpet that was covering the bunk. He didn’t want to risk you falling out and he was so used to the feeling of sleeping in such a tight place and didn’t bother.

You ran through your hair and yawned quietly from being tired. You had no idea what time it was and you just wanted to creep back into the sheets that were just the perfect temperature of warmth.

1 A.M it was. You had no idea for how long you had been sleeping but the last thing you remembered was leaving the venue quickly and get on the road before you fell asleep.

Days like these were rushed and you appreciated finally getting to bed. Even if it was going to be in a tightly packed bunk on a bus that was driving on the bumpy roads.

You sat up on the bed and moved the curtains away. You weren’t sure for how long you had been standing still but you could tell that it wasn’t because you were out of gas.

The view was almost pitch black. If you looked closely you could see the stars gaze from above the many lamp posts that were outside. You were parked at some kind of lot, you weren’t sure, but all the lights were out. You could see the small windows of houses from far apart, some still being awake.

You wondered if you were the only one in the bunk area. You couldn’t hear Michael’s typical snoring and usually, you would move when Luke would be moving upstairs.

You wouldn’t call it upstairs but you kind of did considering he was sleeping in the bunk above yours.

Sometimes he would be the annoying one to lean his head down and peak. His curls would be bouncing literally everywhere because of the upside-down position and even if he intended to be annoying you couldn’t help but laugh.

You shook your head confused by your thoughts and decided to move the curtain away from your bunk.

Your sheets were still warm and nice, begging for you to stay but you knew this was one of the times you craved to investigate what was going on.

When getting outside of the bumps you saw how the lights were still off. The only thing that was giving the whole bus light was from the small lamp you had turned on from before.

You looked behind you to see that Luke’s curtain was still closed. You listened closely, and your thoughts came to confirm when you heard his breathing. He was still sleeping inside peacefully.

Deciding not to wake him up and let him sleep you looked towards Michael’s bump. It was also closed so you didn’t want to disturb him either. Maybe it was just one of those magical nights where he wasn’t sleeping heavily and snoring loudly.

What caught your attention was that Calum’s spot was empty. You could see he had been resting there since his phone was still resting mixed between the sheets. You could faintly see a notification on Twitter showing something from The Maine.

It made you gaze towards the front part of the bus and finally, you understood what was going on.

One of those cozy nights.

Leaning down to grab your clothes from the small mini basket that was right next to your bunks you grabbed a pair of leggings from the day before. You also slipped into one of Ashton’s old hoodies because you didn’t know how cold it was outside.

Walking towards the front part of the bus you carefully opened the door so you wouldn’t wake up the others. Michael could be a groggy one if he was suddenly awoken. You didn’t want to wake up a monster.

The soft tunes of The 1975 played from the radio Calum had brought outside, smoke being blown towards your direction without intention. They were both sitting on the pavement where the bus had parked. The place seemed like nobody had ever visited it but the view was worth stopping the bus for just a minute or two.

At first, they hadn’t noticed you were standing outside. They were chatting quietly to respect that you were sleeping. They always respected that not everyone wanted to be up this late.

“You know one day I’m going to quit,” Calum commented, looking down at the ashes dropping to the ground.

“But today is not the day.”

You smiled carefully, trying not to laugh by Calum’s statement. This wasn’t the first time he had said something along the lines. He always tried to be inspired, always wanted to quit. But he somehow went back into the old habits.

Ashton shook his head in disbelief and coincidentally glanced towards your direction.

“Hey baby.” He smiled wide and spoke softly, “Weren’t you sleeping?”

You shook your head sleepily and scratched your eyes carefully. He nodded his head towards his side and slide to the left to make room for you.

They were sitting on garden furniture pillows. You didn’t know where they had found or stolen these but it was a great idea so you wouldn’t get a cold bum.

He was warm just like you had predicted when you sat next to him, feeling his warmth from his black hoodie.

“You know this is way past your bedtime.” He hummed and moved a strand of hair away from your face.

You knew he was only goofing. It had become a joke that you would always sleep as early as possible. Not because you were the person that needed the exact 8 hours of sleep. It just kind of happened because you weren’t the night owl you always tried to be.

“I’m trying to be badass tonight.” You looked back at him with a challenging look. But your face told otherwise.

He shook his head by your words but laughed again. He could see that you were struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Why did you leave the bunk?” He asked, leaning his head to the side in wonder.

“Because my heating pillow had suddenly gone missing.” You snuggled yourself into his warm arms, looking over at Calum who seemed amused by the two of you.

“And I missed you. Which is weird considering you’re only three meters away. I just can’t help it. I can’t sleep when you’re not around.”

He smiled softly again by your words and nodded your head, understanding you.

“That’s totally okay. You don’t have to talk, you can just rest.”

You nodded your head agreement and felt how your eyes were switching between being open and closed.

You didn’t feel that you were that tired, it wasn’t often you would wake up in the middle of the night. Sleeping on a bus seemed tiring just by listening to it, but to you, it was just as easy as sleeping in a bed.

Maybe not as comfortable as a bed but you could sleep as deep as you could at home. It meant you rarely stood up to pee or just shift in your seat. You were just completely gone until the morning alarm would wake you all at 7am.

But you could feel that the more you leaned into Ashton’s touch, the more tired you felt.

Maybe that was the deal. You weren’t a heavy sleeper. You were just able to sleep as long as Ashton was right next to you.

“You know what I’m looking forward to?” Calum questioned out loud, both asking you and Ashton now that you had joined the conversation.

Ashton shook his head in agreement and watched his best friend dust a bit of the cigarette to the ground.

“The Nashville show. I don’t know what’s with that place but we always seem to have fun.”

Ashton nodded his head in agreement to Calum’s words and looked up towards the sky. At places it was pitch black but dark clouds were also covering the stars. It was nicely substituted by the city lights in front of you.

“You remember the show in Copenhagen?” Ashton mentioned and Calum nodded his head in agreement.

“The best coffee I’ve ever had.” He blew the smoke from his mouth and thought back to the moment.

“You know.” Calum mentioned and looked over at Ash, “I know you love sightseeing and all that but you seriously need a map. Or at least someone to join you. The fans were waiting at Soundcheck for 40 minutes more outside because you were late as per usual.”

Ashton couldn’t help but laugh by the mention. Sometimes he did feel guilty for not showing up at the time. But he just wanted to explore every time he visited something knew. And if it was a city he had visited before he wanted to see something different.

“At least they were laughing when we told them at soundcheck,” Ashton commented, and Cal nodded his head in agreement.

“I know they were all smiling because it was you saying it but I’d bet some of them were thinking ‘Goddammit Ashton I’m not standing here for nothing’.”

Ashton laughed quietly by Calum’s sentence, laughing even more because he had put pressure on his quote and faked his voice.

You smiled carefully by their chats. It wasn’t often you interrupted them, but days like these you enjoyed.

They loved speaking about the tour, they loved just sharing those great moments and relive the memories in their mind.

“Maybe one day we should go to Iceland. They’ve got this awesome music place called Harpa.”

“I think we should tour around the world,” Ashton mentioned and Calum hummed in agreement.

They both looked towards the view with gazing eyes, enjoying the moment. It was quiet but they could hear the faint sound of the wind gushing. At least it wasn’t as cold as you had expected it to be.

“Go to places we’ve never been to. Visit small cities.”

Calum smiled bright and dusted the cigarette to the ground, inhaling a bit of fresh air and pulled his hoodie over his head.

Silence fell upon again but Ashton knew well enough that they were sharing the same thoughts.

The imagination was wild and they loved being a new place every single day. It was an opportunity not everyone was offered. They were enjoying it to the fullest.

Calum looked over at Ashton’s direction and both their eyes adverted down to you. You hadn’t noticed that your eyes had been closed, you were in a way different place in your mind but you were still smiling.

“I feel like we’re on the top of the world sometimes,” Ashton whispered and Calum nodded his head in agreement.

He wrapped his arm closer around your shoulders and held you tight. It was moments like these that he would be remembering the next time they would have a pit stop. Sitting with each other under four to six eyes and just talking out of the blue.

“Let’s take on the world.”

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flannelpunkcalum · 6 years

Note

Could you do a second part to the Luke one you just posted, something like her flying out or him finishing the song or something. It was so beautiful I didn't want it to end ❤️❤️

flattery will get you absolutely everywhere absolutely! and shoutout to @plainwhiteluke for proofreading for me!!

part one can be found here

On tour, Luke forgets everything so quickly. Usually, anyways. Screaming at crowds of thousands every other night will do that to you.

Not this time.

He can’t sing Valentine without wishing it for her. It’s great - one of his favourites off the new album - but it doesn’t say anything about her sharp teeth or her soft hands. And when he thinks of that, he tries to write it down, but these days his legal pad is half-torn from scribbled out lines.

He feels blocked for the first time in months, the only time it really counts.

That night, he dresses early and heads onstage before soundcheck. His piano is already out, and he sits himself at the bench without looking at the empty seats surrounding him. They’ll be filled soon enough.

He flexes his fingers and plays a G chord. It’s as good a start as any, and maybe if the words won’t come a melody will. He could ask Cal or Mikey or Ash to help, but he wants this to feel intimate.

Focus.

He plays the G chord again. Okay, it’s a start. Then to the - um, C, G again, C, E minor, and then so it’s not just a four chord song he takes it to the G/F# the classics favour.

It sounds really nice, and he plays it again, enjoying the way the chords don’t fill the space.

Wait.

He plays it one more time.

Okay, this is just “Your Song”. He’s literally just playing an Elton John song. Don’t get him wrong, it’s a fucking great Elton John song, but it’s not right. It’s not hers.

Luke decides to play it anyways. “So forgive me forgetting, but these things I do - you see I’m forgetting if they’re green or they’re blue, anyway, baby, what I really mean - yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

Fuck, he wishes he had written this. It fits them - the distance that forms, the inarticulate love he’s got tearing at him, the longing - he wishes he could tell her it was for her. He stumbles over the chords on the way to the chorus, swearing under his breath, but he finds it eventually. “I hope you don’t mind, I hope you don’t mind, that I put down in words-” he can almost hear her join in, “how wonderful life is-”

“-now that you’re in the world.”

Luke stumbles over the chords, discordant under his hands. He stumbles his way off his seat on the bench, turns around -

It’s her. She’s there, standing on stage, looking creased from a plane ride and exhausted and that’s all he has time to see before he catches her in his arms and kisses her. He’s in such a hurry, he hits the side of her mouth first before they centre to each other.

She feels like a miracle.

He breaks away, breathless with surprise. “Baby, I-” He doesn’t want to ask why. Too many questions and she might disappear again. “Hi.” He says instead.

“Hi.” She mumbles back. There are tears in those eyes he sings about.

He kisses her again.

When they finally pull away, he doesn’t take his hand off her cheek. She’s beaming up at him, he couldn’t bear to. “That sounded really good.” She says, laughing a little.

“How did you get here?” Luke’s hand slides a little further down her back, now that he’s not so worried about her slipping out of his grasp.

“Ashton told me where to find you. A pipe burst at work, we can’t go into the building until next week. I flew here as soon as I found out. I wanted- I can find a hotel if you don’t have room, I just wanted to-”

“You think I’m letting you out of my sight?” Luke feels so fond his heart might burst. As if this wouldn’t be alright, as if he wasn’t going to squeeze her into his bunk tonight.

She licks her lips before she speaks, but he can’t get his eyes off the shine on her mouth. “I can only stay for four d-” Luke kisses her again, he won’t let her finish. He doesn’t care. This beautiful girl in his life is such an impossibility, he’s gonna take every moment she gives him.

It’s a long moment until they break apart, too.

Luke can’t get over the taste of her in his mouth. One of her hands is tangled in the collar of his shirt and he wants nothing more than to let her take it off, but they’re gonna be letting people in for soundcheck soon, and- shit, how’s he supposed to play a show when he isn’t planning on letting her out of his sight for the next four days?

“I love you so much.” He says. There are other things he needs to sort out, make sure she has a pass and somewhere to sit during the show, introduce her to the Aces, but this is what’s most important.

“I love you too.” She says, and Luke pulls her into his chest tight and rests his head on hers because that’s where she fits. Despite himself, he hopes Andy isn’t around to take a picture of this. This is only for him and her and the sparrows fluttering around the scaffolding.

He’s gonna get this right one day. He’ll find a way to make touring better for them and he’ll stop leaving dishes in the sink and he’s gonna write her the best fucking song of his life. For now, though, he’s gonna love her until she’s out of his reach again. Everything else is secondary when he’s got her in his arms.

#Anonymous #my writing #your song #luke hemmings blurb #luke hemmings imagine #lh blurb #requested

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elounorfluff-blog · 6 years

Text

Talk to Me (Part One)

A/N: So I have officially given up on trying to finish this in one go. It would be a month of writer’s block most likely. So I have decided to post it in two parts. If you have ANY funny/cute ideas of ways they might try to make each other talk, DM me! Also important note: keep in mind this would be around 2013/14 before El was the ‘queen of crop tops’.

Thanks and hope you like it :)

“Do you two know how to shut your mouths?” Harry screamed, suddenly turning every head in the room and ceasing Eleanor and Louis’ sarcastic debate of the day.

Eleanor gathered her senses. “I’m sorry, what did you just say?”

Harry took two steps towards her, his words slow and deliberate “I said, do you know how to shut up? Close your mouth? Not speak?”

“Are you talking about me or him?” El gestured to her defensive looking boyfriend. “Because he is the problem, not me. He’s the one who starts these things.”

Louis gaped at her, “I most certainly am not, you are the one always going on about-”

“Stop!” Harry returned to shouting. “Just stop! I bet you two couldn’t go a whole day without talking to each other. Arguing, Flirting, and everything in between. There’s never any peace around here anymore.” That wasn’t exactly true, El and Louis just hadn’t been together in a while, so they were making up for lost time with extra arguing and flirting over the past few days.

Liam chimed in from the couch after a moment of tense silence, “What does the winner get?”

“The winner of what?”, Louis asked. All of them looked confused now.

“Well Harry said a whole day without talking to each other, so clearly it’s a competition, something you two love, so whoever talks to the other first, loses. What does the winner get?”

Eleanor and Louis thought for a moment, or El did at least. “She already knows what I want,” Louis smirked.

El rolled her eyes, “Have I mentioned you are an insatiable little shit today?”

Harry laughed, and Liam covered his mouth to keep from doing so.

“I don’t know what insatiable means, but probably. Have I mentioned you’re an annoying know-it-all today?” He smiled sarcastically.

Zayn was paying attention from a bean bag on the other side of the room now, “Lou, it just means you really like sex, dude.”

“This is going to be easier than I thought”, El crossed her arms and put her hip out defiantly. “Fine, I’ll participate. But next time we go out, I get to pick something out and you have to get it for me. Within reason.”

Louis was a bit baffled by her answer. He usually bought her what she wanted anyway, which wasn’t much, but he was excited to beat her, which he was quite confident he could do without much effort.

“Alright then.” Harry smiled but looked exasperated. “From 9 AM tomorrow morning until 9 PM, you two can talk to anyone but each other. First person to talk to the other within the time frame loses. If you both make it, somehow, I will personally pay for all of us to go on a fucking cruise. That’s how confident I am that this will fail.”

“Deal.” Louis shook Harry’s hand. Eleanor eyed them looking for a downside, but eventually offered up her own handshake.

“Deal.” She agreed. She had no idea what she was in for.

Eleanor stood in the hallway of the hotel, arms wrapped around her boyfriend’s neck as she kissed him goodnight. “You better tell me you love me tonight, because tomorrow you have to go a whole day without saying it”, he jokingly informed her, hands on her waist.

“Mmm. How will I ever survive?” She grinned at him, sliding her hands down his arms and leaning back to look at him. “You’re going down, Tommo”, She announced to him confidently.

Louis took her hands and spun her while she squealed in delight, landing so her back was against him and his head rested on her shoulder, he moved his chin slightly and spoke softly into her ear, “We’ll see about that Calder, I have a habit of making you say lots of things.”

Eleanor turned her head back and raised an eyebrow at his suggestive comment. “Guess we’ll find out tomorrow.” She kissed him again quickly, “Okay, okay, I have to go.” She disentangled herself from him and he frowned.

“Go where?” Louis questioned her, fully intending to spend the whole night with her.

“To my own hotel room. And you are sleeping in yours or on the bus. I’m not dumb enough to wake up in your room. I know you Louis Tomlinson and you would turn off my alarm and wait until after nine to scare me awake to get me to talk.”, she informed him pointedly, crossing her arms.

“…I wasn’t necessarily going to scare you to get you to talk”, he defended, grinning.

Eleanor let her head fall back as she sighed, “Oh, bloody hell. You’re impossible, Boo. You aren’t going to be able to trick me with the allure of sex, especially not before the bet ‘as even started. And when I win, I’m going to ask for a way more interesting prize.” She started walking down the hall, but Louis quickly turned and blocked her.

“I’m sorry, when you win? You just know you’re going to win?”

El was actually pretty confident that she could pull this off, but she humored him anyway. “Fine. If I win. So better bring you’re A-game Tomlinson.” She stepped around him and turned back, “Goodnight Louis.”

“Wait!” He almost shouted. She raised her eyebrows in frustration, shaking her head, when he reached his arms out, wiggling his fingers until she surrendered and hugged him. “I looove you.” He told her emphatically to make her smile.

Eleanor breathed in the comfort of her boyfriend’s sweatshirt, “Love you too, Baby.” She felt him kiss her forehead and then tilted her chin up to press his lips to hers. “Ok, I actually ‘ave to sleep now.” She pulled away from him.

“Night, Love.” He winked at her as they turned in opposite directions.

Louis had decided by morning that he did not favor sleeping without Eleanor when he knew she was down the hall. It was strangely discomforting. The boys got up early and ate breakfast before heading out to the huge venue they were playing that weekend. They didn’t have a concert tonight, but since they did the following two days, they had to go do soundchecks and figure out the stage among other things. Plus, they had been promised the following morning off if they got this mess over with today.

El woke up in the same room as Sophia around nine. “Soph”, she attempted to ask her passed out friend a question. “Sophia!”

The other girl groaned and rolled over, “What?”

“Where are the guys at today?”

Sophia sat up, “The…stage place…whatever it’s called”, she replied wearily, “Why do you care, I thought you were avoiding him.”

El raised an eyebrow at her, “Avoiding him? How am I supposed to get him to break if I’m not there for him to talk to me?”

Soph laughed then, “And just how are you planning on catching Louis Tomlinson, of all people, off guard?”

“You don’t think I can win the bet?” El questioned her.

Sophia was quiet for a minute. “It’s not that you couldn’t win, per say…. but if we were gambling, I might, possibly, bet on someone else in the chances of increasing my cash flow…”

El crossed her arms from where she was sitting on the end of her bed, “So basically, what you’re saying, is that not only did everyone else place actual money on this but that you bet your own personal money on Louis winning and me losing?”

“Well it sounds rude when you put it like that!” Sophia threw her hands up, but El just laughed at the interesting circumstances.

“Okay fine, you didn’t bet on me, but as my best friend, you are bloody obligated to tell me who did, at least.”

Sophia chewed on her lip, “…Harry…and Zayn.”

“Well, those odds aren’t too bad. Maybe they’ll give me proper help.” She smirked at her friend as she grabbed her clothes for the day. She looked at the dress she had picked out and second-guessed the cutesy flower pattern, stuffing the dress back in her luggage and grabbing cutoff shorts. Unfortunately, all the shirts she had packed seemed to scream modesty, which was not a look she felt like would help her today. “Hey Soph, where’s the black and white crop top you got at Anthropologie the other day?”

Sophia raised an eyebrow at her, “The one with the flowers? Why are you looking for that?”

“No reason…. just wondering if I could borrow it.” Eleanor tried not to make a big deal of it.

“For what? It barely covers anything and it’s not exactly warm out. You’re already wearing the shortest pair of shorts you brought with ya- ohhh.” Realization hit Sophia as she grasped El’s motive for wanting to borrow her top. “Nope. No way girl. If you’re going to be sexy, you ‘ave to do it right. Hold on.” Sophia came over to the closet with her and started going through her luggage. El tended to dress more on the modest side, partly out of necessity for comfort, although she always managed to look adorable while doing it.

“How exactly do I ‘do it right’, then?” Eleanor asked, rolling her eyes.

“It means you still look like you, rather than me…Actually, you should really look more like whatever Louis loves, if your goal is to get him to talk.” She was still throwing things from El’s suitcase aside.

“He likes it when I wear his T-shirts…but I only have one of those and I wouldn’t say a t-shirt is really the look I’m going for.” El sat on the edge of the bed.

“Which shirt?”

“Just a black Adidas one.”

Sophia smiled at her devilishly. “Hand it over, Love.”

El’s eyes widened as she answered her friend, “What? Why? What are you going to do?”

“Never mind I found it in here.” Sophia grabbed the t-shirt from the bottom of El’s bag.

“Sophia!” She was starting to worry now.

“You should probably switch to skinny jeans, it’s kind of chilly out.” Soph ignored her grabbing a pair of scissors.

“Oh no.” El looked at the scissors.

“Oh yes.” Sophia grinned.

Twenty minutes later, El had on her favorite ripped skinny jeans, black ankle boots, and an Adidas T-shirt…minus the bottom half. She had piled all her hair up in a messy bun and done her makeup quickly before Sophia was grabbing her by the arm to catch their car outside to the stadium.

The boys were running through the stage setup when El and Soph arrived. They came in through the side entrance, quietly watching the boys finish what they were doing before walking onto the stage. El put a finger to her lips as she caught Harry’s eye. Liam and Louis’ back were still turned away from her and Soph. Harry winked at her. Allies were always important.

Louis set his water bottle down, “Okay what if we changed the third song to- ohmygod there is a person on me!” He shouted as he turned to find El smiling from where she had jumped on his back. “Liam! Come remove this parasite!” Liam burst out laughing as Sophia stepped in his path.

“Hi, Love.” Despite betting on Louis’ side, Soph was still helping her best friend out. “Can I borrow you for a moment?”

“I think Louis needs me first…” Liam trailed off.

“Nonsense, Tommo’s fine!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him in the direction of the dressing rooms.

Louis rolled his eyes, “Well that worked out well…Harry, a little help here?” He clearly had no idea that everyone had bet on them, El realized. She smiled feeling like this gave her a distinct advantage.

Harry leaned against a table and crossed his arms, “Course, Lou…. El did you need help getting down?” He asked her, and Louis’ jaw dropped at his support of El instead of him.

“I’m fine, thanks for asking, think I’ll actually get down myself.” She smiled and hopped back off her boyfriend’s back, walking to stand by Harry while Louis regained his composure, which he promptly lost all over again when he saw her outfit.

Niall appeared from backstage where he had been up until that point. “Hey El, nice shirt, matches Louis’ black one!” He genuinely complimented her, and Harry covered his mouth as he burst out laughing. He had figured out fairly quickly exactly what her t-shirt was.

Louis threw his hands up in frustration, “Zayn, remind me not to loan my things to anyone in the future”, he said to the only band member who had yet to comment.

“I don’t know…”, He looked up and down at El, “Personally I think it looks better like that.”

“Keep your eyes to yourself!” Louis told him emphatically as he huffed off the stage to his dressing room.

“Nice one, El!” Harry double high fived her as soon as Louis was gone. “How did you know I would back you up?”

“Soph spills everything. She’s actually where I got this lovely outfit despite her loyalties lying elsewhere apparently. You think someone is your best friend until they bet on your boyfriend instead of you”, She told them laughing.

Zayn wandered over, “You better not let us down, Calder”, he jokingly told her.

El inhaled, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Meanwhile, Louis banged on the door to Liam’s dressing room. He opened it reluctantly, clearly having been involved in something with Sophia. “Can I help you, mate?”

Louis opened the door the rest of the way. “You.” He looked at Sophia who smiled innocently, despite the strap of her tank top hanging off her shoulder. “You helped her and I know it, she doesn’t do stuff like that on her own! Cutting up shirts and all that.”

Sophia looked like she was contemplating something deeply, “I can neither confirm or deny that I was involved”, she stated firmly. “Not that it would matter, we’re all allowed to help whoever we want. In the end, it’s just you two who can’t talk to each other that decides who gets the money.”

Louis froze. “What money?” He asked, and Liam turned to glare at Sophia. “Oh my God. You guys bet on us! Spill it Soph, who’s on my side. I know you told El.”

Sophia looked from Lou to her boyfriend, “Fine”, She conceded. “Me, Liam and Niall bet on you. Zayn and Harry bet on El.”

“How much?” Louis asked, knowing it would affect how much they were involved.

“Nope, not telling. El doesn’t know either.” She stood up, “Speaking of, I better go find my girl.” She smirked and left the room.

Louis looked to Liam, “How do I get her to talk? She’s better at this than I thought.”

Liam pondered the question, “I’m sure if you be yourself long enough, she’ll say something.” Louis did not look amused. “Alright, fine. Have you got a story that she doesn’t necessarily want the whole world to hear but she wouldn’t kill you if it got out?”

Louis thought about it for a moment. “I think I have just the thing.”

They talked over their plan and eventually joined the rest of the group for lunch at a cafe. Lou hugged El from behind and kissed her cheek, trying everything to see if she would slip up. She was one step ahead of him on that one as she pulled his arms tighter around her bare waist and grinned. Louis frowned and let her go, sitting down on the other side of the table.

“So how’s our favorite couple?” Harry asked chuckling.

“You mean Beyoncé and Jay-Z?” El asked politely as she opened her water.

“I’m pretty sure he meant you and Louis, Eleanor”, Liam was clearly involved in things now. Shit, Eleanor thought to herself. Louis must have figured out the bets and teams.

“Louis and I? Well, I can’t speak for him, but I’m doing fine”, she skirted around the question.

Louis smirked and pretended he hadn’t heard Eleanor answer. “We’re doing great actually. You know just the other day we were at that giant hotel in Italy and you know I always stay on the tour bus, unless El is here with me, for the experience and so on. Well, you wouldn’t believe what we did.”

He saw Eleanor’s eyes widen as she realized what he was talking about. She glared at him. Two could play at this game.

Part two coming...soon?

#elounor #elounorfic #eleanor and louis #eleanor calder #louis tomlinson #fetus louis #elounor 1.0 #1d fanfic #otp #they are so sassy

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wordsandshawn · 6 years

Text

Chaos

This was requested a longgggg time ago. I found it buried deep in my drafts unfinished so I decided to finish it up and post it.

Requested: could you do a post like your Mobbed one, but do it the other way around where it's y/n who panics and has bad anxiety?

~~~

The only way to describe what you have just stepped into is chaos. Complete and utter chaos. In the year you’ve been dating Shawn and the month that you’ve been on tour with him, you’ve never experienced anything at this level of crazy. What started off as a nice afternoon exploring the city and stopping for lunch in a cute cafe with Shawn turned into a crowd of girls following you both despite the many times Shawn politely asked them to leave you two alone after he had given them all pictures. Apparently, a couple of them had also tweeted out your location while you were in the cafe, so by the time you’re finished eating, there is a massive crowd waiting outside.

Shawn had convinced Andrew and Jake that it would be fine for the two of you to go out without security. Truthfully, you both really just wanted to be able to spend some time alone, to go out on a date together without any one else around. After taking one look at the crowd, Shawn sighs loudly, taking your hand and stopping you from walking any closer to the exit of the cafe. “We can’t go out in that, y/n.” He says firmly, sounding slightly frustrated, and you don’t blame him.

“It’ll be fine,” You try reassuring him, even you know he’s not worried for himself, but for you. You’ve never been a big fan of big crowds. Sometimes even sitting in the sound booth at his concert overwhelms you.

“I don’t think we should go out.” He says, still hanging back and not approaching the door. He pulls out his phone, probably to call Jake to tell him to come and to bring more security with him.

But you stop him before he gets a chance to. “Let’s just go, you can take pictures with them and then we’ll be on our way.” You try to sound cheery, not wanting the day to be ruined because of this. As much as you appreciate his fans, and you know he loves them, sometimes it is hard when you two just wanted to be able to spend a normal day together, but it gets interrupted because a few fans don’t respect his personal space and time.

“But there are a lot of them,” He says hesitantly.

“I’ll wait on the side, away from the crowd.” You tell him, pulling on his hand to get him to walk again. You only have a little over an hour before you have to head back to the venue, and you had planned to go into a few of the stores you saw while walking to the cafe earlier, you don’t want to have to wait here until security shows up because that would take a while and if you did that then you probably wouldn’t have time to shop.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” He questions, stopping you from walking. He looks down at you, making eye contact, searching your eyes for the truth.

You nod, “I’m sure.” The fans are here for him, not you, so no one will care that you’re waiting off to the side, at least that’s what you’re hoping. For some reason sometimes fans like to get pictures with you. If that’s the case today, it will be fine as long as you’re away from the crowd and the few fans that want pictures with you can come over to you when they’re done getting their pictures with Shawn. That way hopefully it won’t be too crazy and they won’t really crowd you the way they often do to Shawn. You learned a while ago that staying by Shawn’s side once crowds start to form only freaks you out and you’re much better off away from him. Even though being near him helps ease your anxiety, it is completely counterproductive because when it come to fans, they get even crazier out of sheer excitement the closer they are to Shawn, so you’re best off as far away as you can get.

When you get to the door, Shawn squeezes your hand tightly in his. “I’ll go out first.” He pauses, “That way you can slip out afterward and they won’t crowd you.” He knows you so well. Even though you try not to show how terrified you get in crowds like these, Shawn seems to know anyway.

You nod, and let go of his hand. With one last glance back, he pushes the door open, and walks over to the crowd. His back is toward you as he approaches the crowd, but you’re willing to bet that he has a fake smile plastered on his face. Over the next few minutes, the crowd only seems to get larger, but you don’t want to wait inside any longer, so you step outside, hoping that Shawn is almost finished and the two of you can be on your way soon. Your plan is to walk over to a fountain not too far away. You’ll sit there and wait for Shawn, since you’ll be able to see him from there.

You don’t make it more than about five feet from the door of the cafe when fans start swarming you too. They’re asking for pictures, and start taking pictures of you and with you before you can even get a word out. More and more fans are coming towards you now, They’re starting to crowd you, and you’re not far enough from the crowd around Shawn. You swear, the fans seem to be multiplying at an insane rate. You’re starting to think this was a bad idea. Your throat starts to feel tight, and you try desperately to force a breath, but its so much harder than it should be, and you know whats coming now.

Fans are asking what’s wrong, they’re crowding even more, wanting to know why you look so pale and why you’re not talking to them. You can feel your heart beating as the too familiar feeling of panic hits you. You try to push through the girls, but they’re only firing more questions at you, seeming more confused than ever.

“Hey!” You hear Shawn’s familiar voice over the constant hum of female voices. “Give her space.” He shouts, and you can tell he’s trying to get to you, but you don’t think he’ll be here fast enough. “I’m sorry, I have to go. We have to go.” He says firmly in a voice that lets his fans know he’s serious. “Please, if you all could just back up, I’d really appreciate it.” He shouts in a rush, and even though his voice is tight, like he’s upset, it still helps you to focus on it. The girls listen, luckily, and Shawn is finally by your side. As much as you wish that things would suddenly be alright again, that isn’t the case. He grabs one of your hands, and leans down to speak soothingly into your ear, “I’m right here. Focus on me.” He leads you away from the crowd, and you’re still having trouble breathing and focusing on what’s going on around you.

Shawn’s arms are around you, holding you close, knowing it brings you comfort. “I got you, breathe baby.” He says soothingly. His voice is steady and calm at the same time. He keeps talking to you about breathing, forcing you to breathe with him and slow down your breathing. He reassures you that he’s got you and that you’ll be okay.

He’s no stranger to your panic attacks and anxiety. Over the past year, he’s learned the best ways to calm you down. He knows to just hold you tight, he knows the sound of his voice calms you, and he knows that you get really sleepy after a panic attack, and you feel a little off for the rest of the day.

You let yourself get lost in the feeling of his arms, of the comfort they bring. By the time you’re able to get your bearings back, you notice that the crowd of girls did not disperse, they stayed, simply staring at you like you were the show. Before you’re able to dwell on that any longer, Shawn opens the door to a car that pulled up, and he helps you inside. Shawn somehow managed to call an Uber during your freakout, knowing how important it was for you to just get away from the curious onlookers and overzealous fans.

Once inside the car, he wraps you tightly in his arms, and continues to whisper soothing things in your ear. You lean into him, focusing on his voice and the safety of his arms around you. You nearly fall asleep on the way back to the venue. All desire you two both had earlier to enjoy a peaceful afternoon of window shopping and walking hand in hand exploring the city is completely gone now. The only thing you want now is to rest with Shawn’s arms around you. You simply want to be held, because even when your world feels like it is on the verge of falling apart, Shawn’s arms around you always manage to hold it together.

When you get back to the venue, you have to walk through it to in order to get to the parking garage with the buses. You run into Andrew, who asks Shawn why you’re back so early. “I don’t want to talk about it.” Shawn mumbles, “We’ll be on the bus. I’m doing a short soundcheck today.” By the tone of Shawn’s voice, and the way that you look, Andrew knows better than to ask any more questions. He knows he’ll find out later.

Shawn leads you to the bus, luckily without running into anyone else on the way. He leads you to the back lounge, and tells you that he’ll be right back. All you really want to do is to fall asleep in Shawn’s arms right now, but most of all, you don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want to be alone.

“Wait, Shawn.” You say, your voice coming out sounding much higher and more desperate than you expected, and he immediately stops, afraid that something else is wrong. “I don’t want you to go.” You say, quietly this time.

He had taken a few steps away before you called him back, so now he returns to standing right in front of you. “Baby,” he says, his voice calm and soothing. “I’m just going to get you a change of clothes, and a bottle of water. I’m not leaving the bus.”

You feel like a baby, and you hate it. You’re being ridiculous, but you can’t help it. Before you can respond, Shawn says, “I’ll leave the door open. You’ll be able to see me the whole time.” You nod, and he leans down, kissing you lightly on the forehead before walking quickly to minimize the time he’ll have to be away.

He returns in a record amount of time with a pair of your leggings, fuzzy socks, and a long sleeve shirt of his. At this point, you really just want to sleep. You take the clothes he gave you and change while he trades his black jeans for a pair of sweats as well. As soon as you’re finished, you lay on the couch next to Shawn, the two of you barely fitting, but you’re used to this by now. Its better lying here than trying to both squeeze into a bunk.

“How are you feeling?” He asks.

“I’m okay,” You lie automatically.

“Baby, I need you to be honest.” He says seriously, but still kindly. “Tell me, how are you feeling?”

“Still anxious,” You say, slightly louder than a whisper. Your fingers are fiddling with his fingers, moving them around in your hands and he lets you. “Tired too.” You add.

“Sleep hun,” He says, “I’ll try not to wake you when I leave for soundcheck, but I'll be back to check on you before the concert. Just stay here tonight, yeah?” He suggests, and you nod, so he continues. “No one should come onto the bus this afternoon or during the concert. Text me if you need anything or if you start feeling really anxious.” He pauses, like he’s thinking, then adds, “Text Andrew too, just in case I can’t check my phone.” You nod, yawning, and he pulls you closer, making sure you’re comfortable. You fall asleep to the steady sound of Shawn’s breathing, and the safe feeling of his arms around you.

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