#weed makes me feel like my brain moves too quick for my lips and language processing center
— Ménage À Trois
Pairing: Esteban Kukuriczka x f!reader x Francisco Romero
Length: 3.6k
TW: mentions of drugs and alcohol, weed, shotgunning, threesome, praise, slightly degrading language, semi-public sex —> car sex, high sex
Tags: reader is good at flirting, stoners!Kuku and Fran, barely any foreplay since they’re all too intoxicated and horny. details of the setting is american bc writer never lived in Argentina 😭, car is truck-sized. inspired by some nasty thoughts that popped in my head when i saw this guy rolling up joints for us to smoke at the getaway cabin.
a/n. A tiny little gift for @madame-fear , who has been too bighearted by letting me go crazy in her ask box. No beta we die like men (i’ll edit later at night after i take my crusty colored contacts off.)
you’ve always been a handful.
insatiable, unstoppable, your charm is always turned on with a refractory period so short it almost hurt and a smile that makes everyone weak in the knees.
a handful.
you’re a shameless flirt, all sultry glances and hooded eyes to whoever managed to pique your interest. you’re a bar fairy to the tips of your toes, flitting from spot to spot with a mouthful of cheap liquor and a goal in mind; someone to buy you drinks.
you’re not expecting to marry any of your little trysts, obviously not, but having them stick around for more than a great night and a sloppy morning handjob would be nice. it satisfies you enough for a week, and it’s good enough to soothe the lack of physical intimacy in your otherwise single life.
you make your way over to one of your favorite clubs, the gold summit, to try your luck for the night; you know you’re gonna score, but you like to make it a game. tonight’s objective is clear, even with the two quick vodka shots and half drunk beer in your system— you’ve always been good about holding your liquor. you’re gonna find the hottest guy in here, and you’re gonna fuck his brains out. and then you’ll see if he’s brave enough to stay in your life for a while.
simple.
there’s rules to the game, still. you can’t make it too easy, or too hard. the game’s no fun if you win too fast, and it’s no fun with blue balls.
you scan the surrounding crowd, eyes jumping from face to face. rule number one; he cannot too big and bulky. you prefer lean, corded strength, the hidden challenge of drawing that roughness out of them. it’s also just safer, makes it easier to escape any possible… unpleasant situation.
rule number two; he should not be too shitfaced. you were a firm believer in consent, no matter what, and you definitely don’t want to clean puke out of your more tender areas—one awful night had confirmed that it wasn’t a good feeling.
rule number three; no experimenting. stick to the comfort zone, the things you like. waking up regretful and disappointed is never the goal.
your eyes rest on a wide, broad set of shoulders; trailing up to a cut jaw, a subtle smile so angelic, and a face that could melt stone, even with the gentle yet sharp features: his nose, lip and eyebrow. a perfect combination of sexy and sweetheart. you smirk.
target spotted.
you slip through the crowd like water, fluidly weaving between sweaty, moving bodies until you’re right in front of mr. golden-ray-of-sun, his smile soft and demure.
“hi!” you call, stand on tiptoe to be heard over the music and bless him, he just wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you in gently to be able to hear you. you bite your lip in anticipation, eyes softened just so as you ask the tall man to dance, and you can see it in the appreciative look you get in kind, the simple, smiling nod.
you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger already, and you haven’t even started.
turning so that you’re flush against the other’s solid chest, you wiggle a little, half to adjust and half to tease, before letting the music overtake you. he brings large, warm hands to rest on the bare skin at your waist, and he smirks at nothing in particular.
and then you start dancing.
you know these particular jeans are serving you well, ass cupped tight and snug by the fabric and the fishnets underneath give you a little edge. the cropped corset top that rests just above your belly button exposes soft skin that he seems to love having his hands on, and you thank whatever god might be listening for body shimmer lotion, the tops of your breasts glimmering in the low bar light.
you look delicious. this godly ray-of-sun of a man definitely wants to eat you.
you start off slow, don’t wanna overdo it: grinding is a form of art, and whil you are good at it, he is basically a master. you push back in time with the bass, hips swaying just so, and his grip tightens.
perfect.
using that as a green light, you bend, ass up perfectly against his crotch as you sway and grind to the music. he is appreciative, keeps you close and tugs you up by the hips after a few heady minutes. he’s got his lips just under your ear, pressing little hot, open mouthed kisses to the skin there and you simply lean back, expose more and more skin to be kissed.
it’s like the entirety of the dance floor has slimmed down to just the two of you, hot and heavy and just fucking right and all you can feel are hands on your waist and lips on your skin, the music pouring through every inch of you. it’s addictive, hooking.
perfect.
the song melts into another, then another, until your skin glistens with sweat and you can feel sunshine’s hardness pressed up against the curve of your ass. you take a breath, steady yourself before pulling away, lacing your fingers in the taller man’s and leading him away from the noisy crowd.
“i’m y/n,” you finally say, a satisfied little smirk on your lips. he has passed all the tests so far, and you’re eager to see what he has in store for you.
“i’m esteban kukuriczka, kuku for short, and i really, really wanna smoke you out,” the other replies, a gentle smirk splayed on his face and it makes you a little weak in the knees. “my stash is just right outside.”
really weak in the knees. not that you’d tell him that.
instead, you cock your head, the portrait of innocence at esteban’s remark. “oh really? you got a good dealer?” you ask coyly, and usually you don’t smoke with strangers, but you’re feeling a little adventurous tonight.
“baby, i’m the dealer,” esteban promises, his smile growing ever wider. “and i’ve got a friend.”
𐙚────────𐙚
esteban’s friend ends up being in the lot just behind the club, finishing up a quick exchange and you let the taller man lead the way. in the glint of the moonlight you admire him properly, too busy eyeing the lean muscles of his arms through his sleeveless tank and subtle ripple of muscles decorating them. you’re too busy watching the way his eyes reflects the sheen of the streetlights to realize you’ve stopped walking, picture those eyes watching you intensely as his tongue run circles along your clit—
you pull yourself out of those thoughts. not yet.
the game’s still on.
you’ve got the upper hand right now, have the whole night and you trail a hand up esteban’s spine, feel him shiver at the touch. you like winning.
and then esteban’s friend steps out of the car, and you stop breathing for a heartbeat. for the second time tonight.
if esteban is golden hour and ungodly sex, this man is nighttime and downright sin.
stoic looking with a piercing gaze, he’s dressed a little more polished than esteban, a beige jacket accompanied by black pants. even with all the clothes, you are beginning to picture what he looks like without them, imagining what’s underneath the collar of his shirt.
beside him, esteban smirks.
you pull yourself together.
“what’s up!” esteban cheers, slinging an arm around the other’s neck. the other just sighs playfully, shoving off his arm and rolling his eyes.
“you saw me this morning, kuku, fuck off,” he says good naturedly, before his eyes drift over to you. “new friend?”
“something like that,” esteban smirks, slips a hand in your back pocket and you’ve got the presence of mind to blush a little, play it coy. fran just smirks, expression mirroring kuku’s before he opens the back door to his noticeably big car — nice and roomy, you think — and waves a hand.
“in that case, mind if i join? i’ve got the good shit right here, and it’s on me,” he offers, and the innuendo just brings more heat to your face. you’re a little out of your element, a little off-balance; you can handle two men just fine, but two men this unearthly handsome is a little overwhelming.
still, the thought of fucking the both of them high, in the back of a truck, is the culmination of several of your wet dreams, and you easily follow esteban inside.
the seats are plush leather, wide and spacious and you find yourself right between them, esteban’s hand on your thigh and fran’s leg against your own. you watch as latter deftly rolls two neat, fat blunts, the smell of the weed strong in the air.
esteban gets the first hit, the easy flick of a lighter filling the backseat with hazy smoke and you’re in awe at the way his cheeks hollow out, accentuating his already sharp jawline. he slips it to you next, holds it to your mouth and finally, you think, a little smirk hovering at the corners of your mouth. you can get a leg up.
pouting your lips out just so, you take the blunt between them easily, hollow out your cheeks as you suck in the smoke and you know you’re giving them a view, cheeks a little flush, and your mouth pouted over the blunt so pretty. you lean back when you exhale, send a few even smoke rings up and you’ve got their full attention now.
you are a sight to behold.
fran’s hand slips up your leg to rest on your other thigh as he takes the blunt next, eyes never leaving kuku’s as he inhales and it’s like some silent sort of agreement, some unspoken deal. you repress the shiver you get when kuku smiles down at you, a little predatory, a little hungry.
they finish the first blunt with nothing more than a few lingering stares, esteban and fran never moving their hands from your thighs and you’re already feeling floaty, a little loose, but still coherent.
esteban sparks up the second blunt but pauses before he passes it to you, cups your jaw in one hand gently to tilt your head up. “inhale and hold it, baby,” he murmurs, but his voice is firm and low; it is not a question.
you do as you’re told, suck in the smoke and keep your mouth closed as he turns your head towards fran with the same hand, gentle but firm. “hold it in, that’s right. give it to fran, like a good girl,” he says, right in your ear and you nearly tremble at the proximity. you press your mouth to fran without questioning, let the man lick into your mouth easily and suck all the smoke from you with another small whine. your cheeks are flushed when he pulls away to blow it out, lips pouted in the foggy interior.
kuku smirks.
“what, not enough for you? come here,” and he’s taking a slow drag off the blunt before tugging you closer, slotting your mouths together and breathing in the smoke. you can barely focus on exhaling, mouth turning up into another pout as he pulls away and you whine again, high and needy in the back of your throat. fran slips his arms around your waist then, pulls you back into his lap and leans against the door of the truck to mouth at your neck softly.
“tell us what you want, baby,” he mumbles into your heated skin, esteban watching you both. he’s got his hands on your thighs while fran slips cool fingers under your shirt, flicking over your nipples through your bra to make you whine again.
“w-want you, both of you,” you whine out, back arching at fran’s teasing touch, and esteban snaps.
pushing forward to crowd you against fran’s chest, esteban kisses you hard, lips pressed together like he can’t get enough of you. one hand rests at the back of your neck, forcing your head up to lick into your mouth easily, fran nipping and sucking down the length of your throat to make you whine into esteban’s mouth. you’re trapped between them, rutting your hips up against esteban’s and back into fran’s lap as you kiss, sloppy and heady and wet.
fran lets you rut between them for a little, lets you work yourself up until you’re whining and whimpering against esteban’s lips, silently asking for more. he presses down on your waist with one hand, the other deftly undoing the button of your jeans. esteban pulls off of your mouth just long enough to help the other wiggle your jeans down, a low growl building in his throat at the sight of you on fran’s lap in just fishnets, no panties.
“naughty. someone wanted to get fucked tonight, hm?” esteban hums, pressing lightly against your already soaked cunt with the palm of his hand, chasing down your moans with his mouth once more. “prep her,” he tells fran over the top of your head, tossing him a little bottle of lube from the glove compartment before kissing him, a little wet and messy before kissing you again.
fran slicks his fingers up, traces around your swollen clit once, twice before pressing inside you with his middle finger, groaning low at the feeling of your tight heat around him. “next time i’m eating you out,” he swears under his breath, and esteban mumbles his agreement as he swallows your moans and whimpers, tongue licking into your mouth relentlessly.
you like the sound of a “next time”, moan a little louder into esteban’s mouth as you fumble with his jeans and he takes pity on you, helps you kick them down so you can palm at his cock, hard and heavy in his boxers.
“i wanna fuck her first,” fran tells esteban, voice rough as you squeeze the latter’s cock in one hand and you whine at that, like that they’re talking about you like you’re not there.
“gonna fuck her loose and sloppy for me?” esteban teases, as the other man presses in a second finger just to hear you moan.
“of course,” fran smirks, leans over you to kiss you again, keeping you busy between them. when he breaks the kiss, you can’t help but whine a little.
“what, baby? you’re not getting enough attention? you’ve got your hands on my cock and his fingers inside you, don’t be greedy,” esteban chastises and you just whine, hot and needy.
fran’s managed to get three fingers pressed inside you before he paused to roll on a condom, kicking off his pants and slicking himself up. he’s got the hem of his shirt caught between his teeth, eyes dark with want and you arch in pleasure, impatient for the touch of his fingers to barely brush against your sweet spot and scissors you open. you’re so gone you can barely register yourself begging, a steady stream of “please please please” slipping past your lips as fran pulls out his fingers, shifting you against the seat to line himself up with your slick hole.
fran’s cock, twitching with impatience and enthusiasm as he pushes in, slowly sinking into you with a low groan. esteban kisses your temple, rubs gentle circles on your shoulders to ease you both into it, little whines filling the smoky air.
esteban is patient though, alternates between kissing you and whispering praises into your ear — “doing so well, sweetheart, taking him so well, such a good girl” — until you’re ready for fran to move, pushing back against his cock with another needy whimper. fran’s hips don’t slow after that, slamming into you so forcefully the car shakes, windows fogged and steamy.
he’s cursing and moaning under his breath, hips slapping against the fat of your ass with every thrust and esteban’s got his hands all over your body, caressing your nipples, toying with your clit, pinching your hips. he’s muttering a steady stream of praise in your ear, mouthing kisses along your flushed skin — “you’re taking his cock so well, princess, gonna come? come on his cock, sweetheart, so i can fuck you” — and you’re barely holding on, nails digging into fran’s clothed back and messy whimpers escaping you with every thrust.
fran stops, pushes your legs up close to your chest and thrusts hard, cock hitting your sweet spot head on and you keen, eyes rolling back in your head as you come all over his cock, legs twitching as he fucks into you harder. your walls clench up as you cum and you milks fran’s cock, whine into his mouth as he kisses you and his hips still, stuttering into you as he comes in the condom. he kisses you through it, as the other man peppers little bites onto your shoulder until fran’s pulling out, tying off the condom and pulling you against his chest to let esteban sit up.
they switch positions easily, you on fran’s chest as he leans against the door and esteban kneeling between your spread legs, hands massaging your ass cheeks gently. “you think you can take me, baby? not too sore?” esteban checks, and it makes something inside you go warm, a little soft. you nod quickly, turning so that you can kiss esteban over your shoulder.
“want you too,” you whine, wiggling your ass for extra emphasis, and esteban just laughs as he tugs open his jeans. fran kisses you softly when the other man pushes in, keeps your legs spread for him to make the press in easier.
it stings a little — kuku’s cock, long and thick is immediately smeared with your cum as it penetrates you — your body cannot help but tremble with the antagonizing, yet slow intrusion. your pussy is over-sensitive but you like the blunt pleasure, kissing fran until esteban’s fully inside. you push back against him almost immediately, whimpering a little against fran’s lips until esteban starts fucking you in earnest, hands tight on your hips.
if fran was quiet when you fucked, low moans and growls, then esteban is mouthy.
he doesn’t stop praising you, his hands keep roaming over your sweaty skin and whispering “good girl, such a good girl, so pretty like this baby, fucked open on my cock” and it only makes your orgasm build faster. you try to prolong buildup of the pleasure but you fail terribly, the familiar tightness pools in your stomach, makes your whines even more desperate and fran’s pressing kisses wherever he can reach, eyes stuck on where esteban’s cock keeps disappearing inside you.
it’s all too much and not enough at once, and you’re whimpering once, twice, three times before you come all over esteban’s cock and fran, slumped over the other man’s body as esteban keeps fucking you. it doesn’t take the taller much longer to come, the tight heat of your walls and the breathy, whiny little moans sending him right over the edge as he spills into the condom.
you’re boneless, fucked into a soft sort of haziness and there’s tears in your eyes — good ones, definitely good ones — as the pair of them sit you up, wiping you down and cooing in your ear about how good you were, how pretty and perfect. they pull your jeans back on, tuck your shirt down before pulling their own pants back on. fran is the first to speak, voice low and soft.
“you guys wanna get some food? there’s a 24-hour diner around the block,” he asks, and you can see the hint of a blush on his cheeks, a little shyness to his smile like he wasn’t fucking you senseless twenty minutes prior.
esteban stretches behind you, the smile you adore so much back full force on his face. “i’m down, i’ll pay. since you so let us smoke and fuck in your car for free,” he smirks, and you can’t help your giggle.
“i’ll pay, since you so generously brought her to me,” fran counters yet again, head cocked to your direction without actually looking at you, “and shared her with me.”
“i am hungry,” you find yourself agreeing, a smile of your own creeping onto your lips, and they both smile back at you, a mess of limbs and sweaty bodies on cool leather.
this definitely wasn’t how you saw your night going, you think as you all squeeze into a booth at the diner ten minutes later, fran by the window with a hand on your thigh, esteban at the end with his hand around your waist. they squish you in between them, kiss at your flushed cheeks and coo over you as they flick through a menu and yeah, you really didn’t see this coming.
i definitely won, you think smugly when fran feeds you the cherry off your milkshake, esteban darting forward to lick the whipped cream off your lips.
definitely.
a/n. thanks for reading and i hope you like it!!<3
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im so glad i dont smoke weed i think id be literally incomprehensible all the time
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LOVE IS LIKE - Books and Babes
PART 1 Books and Babes | PART 2 >
Summary: As he travels home to London with his assistant Leah, Henry recalls some moments from his past, including breakups, ladies and that one book that keeps getting into trouble.
Word count: 2.566
The song: Sweet - Love Is Like Oxygen
Disclaimer: mentions of one-night-stands, breakups, bullying, hopeless love and weed smoking. Other than that it’s pretty much just comedic fluff
--
LOVE IS LIKE... books and babes
--
‘Love is like oxy-gen,
You get too much,
you get too high..’
Henry mimed along with the music in his earpods, shuffling forward as the line of businessmen moved to the gate that would transport him to the plane taking him back to London Heathrow.
‘Not enough and you're gonna die--’
A short jab in his ribs made him look down at the glowing pink cheeks of his PA. She’d had to make a run for it.
‘Love gets you high-.’
With a quick fumble Henry killed the music, as he was greeted by one heavily panting Leah who pushed his lost book back in his large hands.
‘Found it.’ She smiled with another few long puffs, sweet sweat beading down her brow.
‘Leahhh.’ Henry sighed and shook his head with a laugh. ‘You know you didn’t have to do THAT.’
She chuckled. ‘And have you bother me all flight? Ohhh no, none of that.’
‘Like I’m such a pain.’ Henry winked, shuffling forward now the line before him was slowly funnelling down the long white tunnel into the plane.
‘Sometimes..’ Leah gave him a playfully chastising look before starting to quickly dig down her bag to find her ticket and passport.
‘Piers?’
Henry wanted to knock on his brother’s bedroom door, but halted, hearing something peculiar arising from the small confinement his oldest brother was hiding out in. Was that a..girl he heard giggling? Putting his ear flat against the rough oak wood, he listened more closely.
‘Do you like that?’ He heard his brother ask. The girl giggled again.
‘Stop it! Hahaha. Piers! Stop it!’
Henry felt his muscles tighten and he wasn’t quite sure what to do. Was that Ellie? The blond girl that lived a street away? And was Piers...hurting her? His older brother truly was strange now he had full on hit puberty. Frowning, Henry looked down the hallway, his ears now picking up the sound of feet climbing up the stairs.
‘Did you call him for dinner yet?’ Marianne puffed out as she dragged a full basket of dirty laundry up the narrow steps, her face not managing to poke out over the large pile. Henry quickly straightened up and swallowed.
‘Eh..’ With a sharp knock he finally rapped on his brother’s door. ‘Piers! Dinner!’
Inside he could hear the panicked kerfuffle of what may have very well been clothing zipped up, but again Henry couldn’t be sure as he looked back at his mother who now lowered the basket in her arms. One conspicuously raised eyebrow from her was all it took to burn his cheeks a bright pink.
‘I wasn’t listening!’ He squeaked, though Marianne knew better.
‘Sure you did sweetie.’ She winked at him then tilted her head in the direction of Piers’ room. ‘Piers honey, don’t forget about what me and dad told you!’
With a swift swing the door was pulled open and one both terribly embarrassed and terribly annoyed Piers appeared in the door opening. ‘FUCK mom! Did you really have to --’
‘Language young man! ..Especially in front of ladies.’ Marianne looked over the shoulder of her lanky teen son to find the shy expression of one equally embarrassed Ellie.
‘Hello Mrs. Cavill...’ She squeaked before noticing the fiercely blushing young boy next to Marianne. ‘..Henry.’
Henry felt his chubby cheeks burn even more. Oh why was he like this with girls?
‘This is not working out...It’s not you, it’s me...’ Her words swam in the back of his head, tumbling around like his brain had turned on the dirty laundry setting of his conscience. Henry felt nauseated, tired and utterly empty as he lay here on the couch of his friend, his hands folded over the phone on his chest. He had thought she was the one. Starry eyed and hair black as night. That smile throwing him off whenever he saw it. She was still the one, right? Why oh why did she not want to work through this? Why did this have to be the end? Why did she have to decide for him how to feel about all this? Why not put in the darn fucking work?!
Looking to his right he heard the soft snoring of the puppy they had adopted only months ago. His body was all disproportionate with his floppy ears and oversized lanky paws. Henry sighed. At least he still had Kal.
‘Welcome Mr. Cavill and thank you for travelling with us.’ The pretty asian lady handed him back his boarding pass with a smile that was near inappropriately close to a flirt. Henry didn’t mind though. Mind a kind smile his large paw retrieved the most used book in his life: his passport, and stepped to the side as they checked Leah’s boarding pass as well. Leah did not receive that same flirtatious look, the asian lady barely offering Leah a glance as her eyes already roved on to the next business man who stepped in line.
Leah raised an eyebrow at him and Henry couldn’t help but offer his dear PA an even wider smile to compensate. ‘What’s the matter with you today?’ She asked, chuckling as her legs moved past him to start their way down the white tunnel of led lights and muffled blue carpet.
‘Absolutely nothing dear Leah.’ Henry smiled. Most women came and went in his life, but at least Leah was here to stay. Like Kal she was one of the few who were true friends to him.
In for it through thick and thin.
‘So what do you think of King Pellenore?’ Young Henry shuffled a little closer to the girl who was sitting on the other edge of the school yard bench. Rosy cheeked and hunched over in his hand-me-down blazer he eyed the sweet red haired girl that seemed to share his fascination with reading. They had worked together on a group project a week ago and he couldn’t help but be interested in her.
Finally she looked up, Anne, her brown eyes skittishly skimming over him before both their ears picked up the sound of a bunch of classmates laughing. Laughing at them. Him. With a small “o” on her mouth the girl quickly grabbed her belongings and rushed inside, leaving Henry alone on the bench, his hands nervously picking at his backpack as the other kids threw him some mean comments.
Fat Cavill. Nerd. Sissy. Fool!
Was he really such a failure with girls?
‘Kal! OH NO...KAL! Give that back!....naughtyyyy.’ Bent through his cracking knees Henry tried to reach for the book that his dog had snatched from the coffee table. But the pup was quick. With a cheeky side eye he glanced at Henry before sprinting down to the hallway, nails tapping on the slippery tile floor. He was near full grown now, but had antics in abundance - and sharp teeth to grab anything and everything he could drag around. Shoes, socks and his new favourite: books.
Chasing after the Akita, Henry followed him down to the kitchen; the home thankfully anything but large and with a few large steps he had managed to chase the dog into a corner, hands grabbing him by the collar before he pried the slimy book from his maw. ‘Oh well would you look at that..’ Henry sighed and tried to swipe some of the doggy drool off the leather bound cover. He had started to read King Arthur again, but his dog was clearly just as little a fan as his old classmates had been. Though of course the dog was not really being mean: he just thought it was time to go out, play, run, chase squirrels!
‘You are one cheeky bugger, you know that?’ Henry looked down at the Akita who sat down, looking up at him with big puppy eyes. It was hard to stay mad at him for long.
‘You sure you’re okay with this?’ Charlie settled down in the comfy hotel deck chair, the Californian sun burning down on their heads.
‘Why of course! I mean, I’ll still tease you like any good older brother. But you LOVE her you big Sissywat. Of course you’re going to marry her.’
‘Haa…’ Charlie sighed and looked at the pool where some women were lounging on sunbeds. ‘..well I guess here’s to the last days as a truly single man?’
Henry raised an eyebrow from behind his sunglasses. ‘I really don’t get how people think you’re still single before the ring’s on the finger.’ He sniffled as Charlie shrugged.
‘It’s just a saying, Hen.’
‘Well single or not, you better take good care of her, will you?’
‘Of course! Each and every day, with every make-up stain on my blouse and every cold foot giving me first degree freeze burns beneath the bed sheets.’ Charlie clinked his beer with Henry’s.
‘For better or worse!’ The brothers laughed.
‘Don’t want to stay for breakfast?’ Henry sat up to see his late-night ladylove squeeze herself back into her skinny jeans. Her round butt cheeks didn’t seem to cooperate and he had to resist from pulling her back into the bed so he could convince her to stay.
‘No, thanks.’ She inhaled deeply so she could zip up the tight jean fabric.
‘Will I see you again?’ Henry internally scolded himself for sounding so insecure.
The woman shot him a confused look. ‘I don’t think I’ll be in London any day soon. It was fun though. Hey,’ She crawled up onto the bed and Henry rolled onto his back in hope she’d at least give him a kiss, her body folding over him. ‘ah there it is.’ With a swift hand movement she retrieved her bra from behind his pillow. ‘Gotta go, my cab is here.’ She pushed herself back off the bed and grabbed her bag. With one last glance and smile she was out the door. ‘Bye Superman!’
Henry felt his heart sink. Oh Henry you fool!
‘OH CRAP!’ The woman in the business class chair next to Henry shot up from her seat, hands pulling a book away from what appeared to be a fallen over drink. ‘Shitshitshit.’ She quickly bit her lip and anxiously started to look around for something to wipe down the mess. Henry killed the music in his ear.
‘Love is like.. --’
‘Oh dammit.’ She scrunched up her nose as she realised how much of the juice had fallen over her book; it was just about ruined, pages soaking up the berry purple colour.
‘Here.!’ Henry sat up and quickly grabbed some tissues from his travel bag; having a slightly messy dog taught you to always be prepared.
‘Thanks.’ The woman breathed, some staff now also joining in to help clean the mess and put the book on a tray before it’d contaminate anything else. It took a good minute before it was all cleaned and gone, the brown haired banana-sock-wearing business woman settling down in her chair with a sigh.
‘You alright?’ Henry asked. It was the first words they shared after a whole hour of flight, her attention first having been preoccupied with her laptop or..reading, which now seemed out of the question.
‘Yea..yea..’ She shook her head and looked at Henry. Mediterranean turquoise eyes hidden behind thick glasses, her low brown-haired ponytail slightly disheveled after being smushed into the seat.
‘Was it a good book?’
‘Yea..just some..old timer. Good ol’ ..King Arthur.’ She hushed the last words as if she felt awkward about admitting she was reading a children’s book.
Henry blinked for a moment as he looked at her, his brain short circuiting before he turned to rummage through his bags again.
‘Oh am I..Is there something on my face?’ She grabbed for her glasses and took them off to look at them with squinting eyes.
‘No no, please. Eh..’ Henry raised the chewed and mauled, but ever loved copy he had bought himself all those years ago. ‘..just..coincidence I guess.’ He reached out his rendition of King Arthur and His Knights to her.
‘Well have you there. Leather bound too!’
‘And absolutely destroyed, also. I think these books just ..beg..to be harmed haha.’
‘You have a dog? Or..’ She pushed her glasses back on her nose and let her finger trace over the large indents.. ‘..bear..perhaps?’
Henry laughed. ‘No no. Just a dog. A large one. But, deep inside still very much a sweet pup.’
‘Apologies.’ A flight attendant halted as the glassed woman turned to look up. ‘We are seeing to the drying of your book. Though I’m afraid we do not have anything to get the stain out.. -’
‘Oh, that’s quite alright. Please.’
‘Could we perhaps offer you a new refreshment?’
‘Some wine would be great. WHITE wine..’ The woman grinned. ‘..less chance of stains.’
The flight attendant nodded, before Henry quickly interjected. ‘I’ll have one as well.’
‘Chardonnay, Sauvignon?’
The woman turned to Henry and with a dapper smile he picked their choosing.
‘You just gotta be yourself man.’ Henry’s skinny, beanie-hatted friend spoke, inhaling the saturating smoke of his Red Dragon joint. The whole room was some kind of blue, bean bags scattered around the Californian apartment, people lounging and chilling in their daze.
Henry inhaled deeply and felt the wooze of a broken heart and drugs fight an odd battle inside his heavy chest. He felt both extremely relaxed and extremely wrong for being here; shouldn’t he be trying his best to get her back?
‘What if I never find anyone to be with me?’ The chubby boy inside him spoke, unsure blue eyes peering out at the ceiling that seemed to move and dance before him. The whole world had slowed down, but his mind tried its best to keep going.
‘Hey,’ His friend struggled up from his beanbag, making Henry fall to his side. ‘you’re a good guy mate. You hear me? You’re a GOOD guy. And if you’d be gay I’d totally..totally do you.’ His friend burst into a fit of giggles before he cleared his throat and shook his head to clear his mind. ‘No, but really. Don’t change for the girl, ever. Yea? You’re such a good guy.’
Henry wondered if this is what Kal felt like.
Good boy! Good boy!
‘Where’s your book?’ Leah had to speed up to keep up with the light long steps of Henry as they moved through the long airport hall for their connecting flight. Henry smiled and looked over his shoulder.
‘Who said it again? If you love something, let it go?’
Leah frowned and with a few more fast steps got in line with him. ‘You are a handful! You know that Cavill? I ran my lungs out to--’
‘Leah. It’s fine. I gave it to someone who I’m sure will love it even more than I could ever.’
Leah puffed and, from the way her cheeks already burned, Henry decided to slow his pace.
‘And if she doesn’t appreciate it, I can always buy a new one.’
‘She? Did I miss something?’ Leah hoisted up the bag on her shoulder and shook her head. ‘You and your romantic antics.’
‘Incorrigible Cavill.’ Henry mimicked her voice, before smiling down at her. Leah rolled her eyes.
‘You said it first!’
‘One very high man once told me I just have to be myself. So that’s what I’ll do. And who knows..’ he hinted at a Valentine’s day poster they passed by. ‘..Love is like oxygen!’
--
Go to PART 2 >
--
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Come Find Me
Come Find Me
by rons-hermiones
Summary: Unplanned, Hermione is forced to spend Christmas at the Burrow due to her grandmother falling very ill. After being ignored by Hermione for weeks, Ron is determined to show her how much she means to him. Just before he gets the chance to tell her, Bellatrix Lestrange shows up with other plans for Hermione. Can Ron get to her before it's too late? (Ron/Hermione Half-Blood Prince AU)
Rating: M for language & dark themes in later chapters.
Chapter Eleven
“I’m sorry.” Is all Ron says before he’s trampling his way through the hot flames.
George, being the closest, runs after him, but is soon meant by a blazing wall of fire. Thankfully, Fred pulls him back before it can reach him.
“Put it out! Put it out! Ronnie!” Charlie yells panicked as the remaining Weasley’s think of something, anything to do.
Ron swears he can hear Charlie calling out to him as he makes his way to the tall grass. He silently swears at Harry for running after her. Ron gets his need to avenge Sirius, but this was Bellatrix bloody Lestrange, he wasn’t sure if even someone like McGonagall could best her.
Soon, the wheat nearby gave a harsh jolt as the dreadful tune filled the air yet again, “I killed Sirius Black.”
Closing his eyes, Ron summons all the courage he has and takes off into nothingness, determined to protect Harry and Hermione.
“I killed Sirius Black.” Hermione hears the shrill voice yell again, this time closed.
Part of her wants to find Harry and curse him herself. She knows how much Sirius meant to him, but he’s just put himself in danger. And she knows that the last thing Sirius would want is Harry dead, and on his behalf no less.
Then she hears it.
A sharp intake of breath like someone sniffing a flower, “hello there beautiful.” Greyback sounds from behind her.
Turning swiftly, she points her wand at him, “expelliarmus!”
Shockingly, it works. His wand flies from his hand and rolls into the water of the pond.
He laughs, “no matter, I won’t need it darling, not for what I have planned for you.” Then suddenly his sharp teeth are bared as he eyes her throat.
She fires off offensive spells which merely make him jolt as he lurches closer.
Terrified, weak, and helpless, Hermione closes her eyes and prepares for the worst. But it never comes.
Instead, something else does, something she thinks it’s much worse.
“What did I tell you? Wait.” Lestrange scolds the werewolf as he slinks backward, fangs growing a bit duller at this.
“You know,” Bellatrix circles Hermione, not even scared the young girl's wand is drawn, “I didn’t even come here tonight for anyone, not my dear niece, nor even for Potter.” She stops, “but now, now I think you could do me some good.”
“Me?” Hermione asks, voice uncharacteristically shaken.
“Yes you Muddy, you see, I hadn’t known you’d be here tonight. There’s been a bit of chatter about you, makes me wonder if the Dark Lord...” she licks at her red stained lips as Hermione raises her trembling hand in fear.
“Oh no you don’t,” she hears a dark whisper from behind, “stupefy!” Ron shouts aiming his wand at Bellatrix.
With a look of mock shock, she easily deflects the advance and cackles madly. In one swift motion the witch yanks Hermione against her as she puts her wand to her throat.
Ron’s blue eyes widen with fear as his whole body begins to shake in terror.
“Please don’t.” He whimpers weakly.
“Well look at that,” Bellatrix whispers in Hermione’s ear, lips grazing the shell and making her shutter, “looks like someone’s upset I’ve got their dirty little mutt.” She says louder, causing Greyback to snort.
At this Hermione tries to pull away, but this just causes Lestrange to grip onto her hair and yank it back as if it were a leash.
“She’s not bad, for a Mudblood, don’t you think Greyback?” She taunts.
“Divine.” He rumbles.
“Ron I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, for everything.” She doesn’t care if Bellatrix Lestrange curses her for it, she needs to tell him.
He shakes his head fiercely, “don’t say goodbye to me Hermione. Don’t.” He warns with watery eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” She continues to whisper like she’s under some sort of spell.
The scene causes nothing but joy for the Slytherin as she grins madly, “I’m gonna have fun with this.”
But as apologies push past Hermione’s lips and Ron surveys what to do, Greyback suddenly falls to the ground.
Behind him, is Harry Potter, wand drawn, and the most pissed off expression Ron’s ever seen him wear.
Bellatrix turns around to see what caused the commotion, Hermione takes this as a cue to muster any strength and escape the women's clutches. It works, she elbows the older woman in the ribs and leaps toward Ron.
He catches her and dares take a second to embrace her, needing to feel her close to him.
“Dumb boy!” Bellatrix shrieks as Harry sprints away, making her follow.
“Run.” Ron tells Hermione, grabbing her hand and whirling them through the fields.
“Me Ron, Voldemort, he’s been talking of me.” She manages to huff out in between dodging weeds.
“What?” He asks back, she must sound mad.
“Lestrange, she said there’s been talk, I don’t- I don’t know!” She practically cries.
Ron pulls them to a stop as they heave under the oak tree they were at what feels like a lifetime ago.
“I don’t think she’d kill me Ron, they want me for something.” She whispers.
He shakes his head, “I’m not betting on finding out if either of those things are true.” His gaze briefly meets hers, just visible due to the light from the nearby orange flames.
“Harry, we have to go back for him.” Hermione says soon after.
And as much as he wants her safe, of course she’s right, that’s their best mate. “Just give me a second, gotta catch my breath.”
As he sucks in a gasp of air, she whispers to herself, “she said she wasn’t here for Harry...”
Then, before Ron could even react to this, a pair of sickeningly familiar footsteps sound in the air.
“Did you hear that Greyback? It must be Potter.” Bellatrix whispers, but she’s close enough for Hermione and Ron to hear.
Instantly, he clamps a hand over her mouth and pulls her behind the oak tree, hugging her frame to his.
“Why does it matter?” The werewolf grumbled, “the Dark Lord told us even if the boy was here, we were not to kill him.” This was a curious statement to both Gryffindors as Hermione turned slightly to peer into Ron’s eyes.
“We can still have a bit of fun.” She says menacingly, “no matter, I have the perfect gift for the Dark Lord.” They’ve stopped walking.
“Care to share Bella?”
“Well, you see it all just depends on who I find first. If it’s the blood traitor, the one from before, I’ll kill him, just like that! Surely the Dark Lord wouldn’t begrudge me for him, there’s about eight more of them!”
In fear, Hermione’s grip tightened around Ron’s arm that was holding her. He seemed to have shivered behind her.
“As for the Mudblood, well, there’s a bit of chatter you know.” Bellatrix states airily.
“Chatter?” The werewolf asks.
“Well sure! She’s certainly the brains of this whole thing, think of how much we could get out of her. And we could have fun in the process, you know, making her squeal, have a bite or two.”
“Looks delicious.”
“For a Mudblood maybe.”
A tear finds its way down Hermione’s cheek and eventually onto Ron’s hand that’s still glued to her mouth.
“They won’t touch you.” He whispers unbelievably low into her ear.
She swivels to meet his eyes, stepping on a twig while doing so.
“What was that?” Bellatrix demanded.
“I hope it’s the girl.” Fenrir commented.
“I hope it’s Weasley. Haven’t had a good kill since Sirius Black.” The witch whispers loud enough for the pair to hear.
And just like that, Hermione knows what she has to do. It’s stupid and brave and Ron will probably hate her for it, but she knows they can’t stand here forever.
From the looks of it, help is not coming, as help is trapped in a ring of fire, and there’s about no chance Harry will find them this time. They surely can’t duel Bellatrix Lestrange and Greyback without dying. They’re just a bunch of sixth year kids. Plus, with the witches personal mission of killing Ron, they wouldn’t stand a chance.
For Hermione however, they seem to have other plans. And yes, she’d rather wake up in hell then find out what that entails, but it’s her or Ron, and in the end, she’ll always choose him.
Soundly, she kisses his cheek and uses her other hand to caress his jawline. He grabs her wrist lightly, confused by the action.
“Hermione, don’t.” He warns, already seeming to know what she’s thinking.
“I’m so sorry Ron, come find me.” She pleads with him through the flood of tears, summoning all the courage inside her.
And before he can even move, she raises her wand, “petrificus totalus.”
Just like that, with tears skimming his cheeks and a horrified look in his eyes, Ron falls to the ground with a thud.
“I heard it again! This way!”
As Bellatrix and Greyback’s footsteps neared closer, Hermione casted a quick disillusionment charm on Ron, before stepping out from behind the tree with a sob.
“Oh it’s you.” Bellatrix said, sounding bored.
Hermione raised her wand, “Expelliarmus! Stupefy! Petrificus totalus!” She tried, just having some hope, maybe she could get out of this.
Her attempts were futile, the older witch blocked every blow with ease.
“Expelliarmus!” Bellatrix sounded off with a cackle as Hermione’s wand flew from her hand.
At this, the younger witch dove for the thing, but crashed on the ground instead. Her attackers drew closer, causing her to slink back until she hit the trunk of the tree. Her hands clutched wildly at the grass for her wand, but instead, she felt something hard and rectangular.
“Thought I’d take a page out of your book. Not so brave without our wand, are we muddy?” If only Bellatrix knew exactly how brave she was.
“I’m sure Dolohov will be excited to see you, he hasn’t stopped going on about you all year. Grab on Greyback.”
The werewolf did as he was told as Bellatrix took a fistful of Hermione’s hair in her other hand.
The only thing Hermione remembers before disapperating was the feel of the rectangular parcel in her hand and flashes of the horrified look on Ron’s face.
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Wicked Game (Part 3)
Word Count: 25K total The first part is about 5K, part 2 is 7K
Rating: 18+ Slash fic Strong language, alcohol and drug use, and a misogynistic and racist comment. Sexual scenes including masturbation, toys, voyeurism, oral, and anal sex.
Summary: Ashton is ready to move on with his life after his painful divorce from Luke and the demise of the restaurant they’d built together. With the help of his protegee and sous chef Hima Singh, Ashton is ready to take on opening weekend of his new restaurant Anne-Marie’s. Calum is a reporter filling in on an assignment and is surprised when his past comes back to haunt him. Hima arranges an interview that takes an unexpected turn between the two men.
Part 1
Part 2
Ashton jumped at the sound of the buzzer. Calum sent him a text telling Ash he was on his way so he knew he was coming, but he was so jittery it startled him anyway. He checked the time, 5:15 pm. 35 minutes to get here? That's good he doesn't live too far. Ashton held a bottle of cologne up and away from him, released three quick spritz into the air before walking through the cloud of fragrance. He made his way out of the bedroom, pausing for one final glance in the mirror. He brushed the soft brown curls off his forehead, his eyes reflexively checking his hairline. He silently thanked Hima for convincing him to get treatment. You could barely see the previously thin spots. Don't keep him waiting. You're ready for this.
Ashton opened the door and barely caught himself from gasping out loud. Hot Damn. His chest fluttered in a rush as his throat constricted. He didn't know where to look. Calum was holding a gift basket with three flavors of Ashton's favorite hot sauce but that wasn't what had his mouth watering. His eyes landed on Calum's hands holding the gift before trailing up to where his bronzed biceps disappeared into a crisp, red short-sleeve button up with one of those black tank tops he favored. His gaze lingered on the small gold necklace nestled against Calum's throat before dragging his eyes up to find the other man watching him with a shy smile.
"Hima said this was your favorite," Calum blurted out, pushing the basket into Ashton's chest.
"It is, thank you so much. Please come in," Ashton blushed hot pink as he gestured for Calum to follow him into the apartment.
Calum got a whiff of Ashton's scent as he turned away from him, causing his spine to tingle at the memory of the missed opportunity that night in the club. His eyes followed Ashton's broad back, unable to resist a quick glance at his tight little butt. Hima mentioned her boss's daily yoga routine, and the black jeans he had on left very little to Cal's imagination. Pay attention Hood. You're here for an interview, not to get laid, he reminded himself. Por qué no los dos? a tiny voice asked that definitely wasn't from his brain.
Ashton was equally grasping to get his thoughts together, but having Calum in his house made everything much more real.
"Go ahead and have a seat," he motioned for Calum to sit down at the bar while he entered the kitchen. "Would you like something to drink? I have pink lemonade, mango infused sweet tea, and wine."
"Sweet tea sounds good. I'll have that if you don't mind," Calum sat on one of the tall stools facing Ashton in the kitchen.
Ashton garnished the drink with a slice of fresh lime, and Calum grinned as he handed it to him.
"Always the artist," Calum remarked. "Hima was going on about that. She's very observant, and you're lucky she loves her job because she'd make an excellent reporter. I might steal her away yet."
"Good luck getting past her mom," Ashton giggled. "All of them really, she's got a twin brother who's crazy overprotective and more cousins than I can count. My family was just me, mom, and the kids so it's a bit much."
"Where's your family from?" Calum asked.
Ashton leaned against the kitchen island, his eyes fixed just above Calum's head.
"I was born in Sydney, Australia. My dad fucked off when I was a baby, and my mom moved us around a lot. She got remarried when I was ten and had my brother and sister. We moved to the US soon after, and when they moved back I was a junior in high school, I decided to stay here. That's when I got a job in a kitchen doing dishes and grunt work."
"Did you know right away you wanted to be a chef?"
"Hell no," Ashton laughed. "I was miserable and living with three guys in a grimy apartment. I was trying to go to school and worked till close most nights. I got into a really bad fight with one of my roommates. He was a big, ugly bastard, ignorant homophobic piece of shit. He accused me of stealing his weed and attacked me. I was in the hospital getting stitches when my boss showed up and dragged me home with him. They put me up in the basement, bought me a bus pass, and he gave me a raise. Did you ever get to eat at Bordeaux?"
Calum shook his head. "Never had the money or the clout. Didn't they sell it?"
Ashton stepped up to the sink to wash his hands, setting his rings in a crystal tray on the edge of the windowsill. "Yeah, after his heart attack, his wife Brigitte made him give it up. She's a force of nature, that woman. She taught me everything I know about baking and pastries. Baking is when science meets art. Cooking leaves wiggle room; you can improvise. But baking doesn't allow for carelessness or impatience."
He dried his hands before he pulled an object out of the fridge and placed it on the counter, unwrapping the plastic wrap.
"I made mushroom Wellington for dinner, and getting the puff pastry dough right takes time. It's an all-day process because every couple of hours you have to roll it out and fold it so the butter gets folded layer over layer. That's what makes it rich, fluffy, and delicious. There's no way to shortcut that." He placed the pastry in a shallow baking pan and pulled a small bowl out of the fridge. "I'm brushing it with egg wash so it'll get nice and golden brown in the oven." He pulled out a small knife from the block and twirled it between his fingers. He narrowed his eyes, the tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips as he concentrated, making several small quick shallow cuts. He grabbed a couple of bottles and carefully sprinkled seeds and spices on the surface before looking back up at Calum.
The intensity in the other man's eyes stopped him short. "Am I talking too much?" Ashton asked, feeling his face flush yet again.
"No, not at all. I uh, almost forgot I'm supposed to be interviewing you," Calum stammered a bit, embarrassed to be caught staring. "So tell me, where did you go after you left Bordeaux?"
As soon as the words left his mouth Calum wanted them back. That would be when he met Luke, you dumbass. Of course, his brain was a step behind his mouth. To his relief, Ashton shook his head with a sharp laugh.
"Yeah, that old story. Why don't you tell me a story I don't already know?"
Ashton pulled another pan from the fridge and set it next to the oven. "Both of these have to bake for about thirty minutes. You can tell me a little about yourself while I make the salad. I don't like to talk while I'm using a knife, but I'm a great listener."
"Are those figs? I'm starting to think you're trying to impress me," Calum's eyes crinkled in a smile and Ashton's chest fluttered once again.
"Maybe I am. Is it working?" Ashton spoke before he thought about it. Ooh, look at you flirting.
"Oh it's working alright," Cal's voice took on a husky edge that gave Ashton a victorious little thrill, knowing he wasn't imagining the heat between them. "Do you need me to help with anything?"
Ashton smirked, dirty thoughts racing through his brain. His dick twitched in his pants, eager for Calum's help, but then those dark eyes went wide as he realized what he said. The reporter nervously licked his lips and looked away while Ashton gripped the countertop to keep his knees from buckling.
"I'm good, thanks," Ashton replied, needing to keep Calum at a distance if he wanted to have any concentration to make it through dinner. "Are you trying to get out of talking about yourself?" He cut a thick slice off the largest fig, speared it, and offered it to Calum off the point of his knife.
Calum plucked it from the blade and popped it in his mouth, his eyes rolling back in pleasure as he chewed. Ashton had to cough to suppress a whimper at the sight, his jeans now uncomfortably tight.
"One of the best things about being a reporter is not having to talk about yourself. My mom taught me to choose my words and my friends carefully. However, to be a good journalist, I have to be able to completely open myself up to each experience while not making it about me. I want to be the reader's guide to the story, not the star of my own show. I leave the primadonna bullshit to my coworker Felipe, or someone like Kevin Mackie."
Ashton chuckled, "Did you see his review of Anne-Marie's? Ass-kissing prick, he's banned for life."
"Did you really throw him out of your restaurant? What did he say?,” Calum leaned forward, eager for details. “Hima wouldn't tell me. I wish I could've seen that."
"She doesn’t know it all. I didn’t want to tell her, but he insulted her personally. He even managed to be racist and condescending while doing it. He's a twat. I was willing to grit my teeth and endure it because it's Mackie, and we all have to deal with him, but you’re not going to insult my friends. I can't even think about it without getting angry again" Ashton spat out the words and Calum's eyebrows went up in surprise. Ashton continued, trying to steer the conversation away from having to repeat the vile things he'd said. "You already know he brought up all the past drama and even asked me if I'd gone to the Galway Grill."
"You're kidding," Calum couldn't help but laugh. "Seriously, though, that place looks awful."
"It really does. You can tell they rushed the opening. Those tacky plastic decorations, if you thought Lune Rouge was gaudy," Ashton had to stop working because he couldn't stop giggling, which only got Calum laughing harder.
"Did you see the fucking menu? The Irish puns, it's so bad. The best part is that it's not supposed to be awful," Calum said.
"No, yeah, exactly it's supposed to be clever and fun, but it just comes off like a pretentious dickhead."
A loud alarm caught them off guard, and Ashton quickly silenced his phone and grabbed an oven mitt. He checked the temperature of both dishes before turning them around and putting them back in the oven. Calum had the hiccups and asked for a glass of water between breaths.
Calum hiccuped while trying to take a drink and began to sputter and cough. Ashton grabbed a towel as he came out of the kitchen and around to the other side of the bar. Calum covered his face and tried to catch his breath, but as he did, he became aware of Ashton's hand rubbing his back. His eyes still watering, he glanced over to see nothing but concern in the other man's face. Calum saw up close that Ashton's eyes seemed to shift color depending on how the light hit his face. He noticed the dimple on Ashton's chin and the rough patches of skin bearing faint scars from his teenage acne, the little bit of stubble under his bottom lip he'd missed when he shaved that morning, lips that were almost irresistibly close. Calum remembered he probably looked a hot mess and needed a minute to himself.
"Can I use your bathroom?" He asked from behind the towel.
"Sure, it's the first door down that hall," Ashton stepped back and let him pass.
Calum closed the door behind him and took a quick look in the mirror. His face was still red but it was slowly fading. He took a piss and blew his nose before washing his hands and splashing some water on his face. The towel hanging on the rack was super soft and Calum could tell it was expensive even if he didn't recognize the brand. He took a second to look around, and while the rug looked as soft as the towels, everything else seemed to be made of bamboo. In fact, the only plastic Calum saw was a bottle of mouthwash on the sink. It was rude to look in the medicine cabinet, but he peeked in the shower. He smelled sandalwood and citrus, noticing they not only used the same brand of shampoo bar, but the shower enema attachment was identical to the one in Calum’s shower. He began to worry he was taking too long, so he took another look in the mirror before opening the door.
Ashton was setting Calum's salad up on the bar next to a fresh glass of tea when he sat back down.
"Ooh thank you so much. This looks fantastic, is that feta?" Calum asked, suddenly realizing he was hungry.
"It's actually honey-basted goat cheese. The dressing is a turmeric and honey vinaigrette. I like the extra touch of sweetness. I grew the lettuce in my little balcony garden out back, along with most of my fresh herbs." He stopped talking and watched Calum eat. He'd never seen anyone go through such a range of expressions while eating. He was clearly enjoying himself. Ashton felt like he was being intrusive for staring, nevermind the thrill he got watching the other man's bliss. If he makes these faces while eating, I'm dying to see what he looks like when he's cumming, he thought.
Calum opened his eyes and caught Ashton blatantly staring. He met his gaze as Calum ran his finger along the underside of his bottom lip to catch a tiny drop off dressing from spilling down his chin and slowly licked it clean. He smirked when he saw Ashton blush and look away. Aren't you supposed to be working? A little voice reminded him, but he ignored it. "That was delicious, I can't wait to taste what's next."
Ashton smirked and started to reply when his phone rang. He started to hit ignore until he saw it was his mother.
"Sorry, it's my mom. I have to answer this," Ashton swiped up to answer. "Hey Mom, hold on one second. I'm sorry about this," he said, covering the mouthpiece.
"Thanks, and don't apologize. It's your mom, I get it," Calum told him.
"Yeah Mom, I've got company. Yes the interview, mmm-hmm, yeah. No, I'm home, but he's here. Yes, right now. No Mom it's not like that. I'll call you later. Love you too, bye." Ashton hung up and turned back to Calum. "Sorry about that."
"Please, it's no big deal. I talk to my mom every day, too, and it's not like I didn't know you were a Mama's boy," Calum grinned. "Hima told me, and you did name your restaurant after her."
"Hima talks too much," Ashton rolled his eyes with a laugh. "Yeah, my mom is my lucky star. We've been through a lot together, and she's the only one who's always had my back. I rely quite a bit on the women in my life, honestly. Lauren, my sister, is one of my best friends, along with my cousin Sophie. You've met Hima; Mom calls her my work wife."
"I could see that," Calum teased, "until she opens her own place."
"That's why I gave them a stake in the business. My mom suggested it. Hopefully, they'll want to stick around, maybe take over someday, who knows?" Ashton shrugged.
"Mom knows best right?" Calum smiled, pulling out his wallet. He pulled out an old picture of a woman who could be his twin with a chubby-cheeked toddler on her lap. "This is my mom, Joy. She lives on the east coast now, and every morning my alarm goes off at 5 AM so I can text her good morning as she's having her morning coffee."
"That's so sweet. You must be her favorite child," Ashton had the warm fuzzies watching Calum talk about his mom. The way his entire face lit up when he smiled melted him into a puddle.
"My sister would agree with you, except she has Vanessa now, so she cares fuck all what I do," Calum said unlocking his phone. As soon as he did multiple messages popped up from his editor/best friend/total pain in his ass asking how his date was going.
"Go away Sham," he mumbled, and Ashton looked at him and then his phone
Calum quickly hid the messages. "My editor, Sham. She's my work wife and constantly in my business."
"Didn't Hima tell me she sets you up on dates? Like the pocket-sized lawyer from the club?" Ashton asked, suddenly jealous.
"Hima talks too much," Calum grumbled, and Ashton lost it which set Calum off again.
It took several minutes to regain control until Calum had tears on his face, and Ashton was about to piss himself. He excused himself, and when he returned, Cal showed him a picture of the same woman from the first photo only older in this photo, her dark hair streaked through with silver. Standing next to her was a young girl who was obviously Calum's daughter. They were both dressed in Polynesian-style floral dresses. She had the same dark flashing eyes, broad nose, and strong jawline as her father, but her face had a more heart-shaped appearance.
Calum swiped to the next picture. "My sister, Mali, she's older and my best friend in the world." He pointed to the woman standing next to Vanessa, wearing a similar dress and tying a scarf around the little girl’s cloud of curly hair., The scarf was open a bit at the top, allowing her hair to work free of the silk forming a halo of curls for added effect. Whereas Mali had a bit of a sunburn causing her shoulders and cheeks to look pink against her warm golden tan, the sun had only added an extra glow to Vanessa's deep copper skin tone which was only highlighted by the vibrant blue and yellow pattern of her dress.
"Your family is gorgeous. You definitely take after your mother. Your daughter is a real cutie, were you guys in Hawaii?" Ashton asked, curious about the outfits.
Calum shook his head. "New Zealand, actually. Mom's whole family is from there. We went for a family reunion of sorts and so Vanessa could get to know her Maori heritage. She had a blast. We all did. Nicole came with us, and so did her husband. Well, he was her boyfriend then."
"Sounds like y'all have a good relationship," Ashton could tell Calum put his family above everything just as much as he did.
He swiped to the next picture and Ashton's jaw dropped.
"Wow, that's your daughter's mother?" He looked up at Calum and he nodded. "She's beautiful and that bone structure, my God. The camera loves her, and you can tell she knows her angles too. Damn, you're gorgeous, but you leveled up there," Ashton didn't realize what he'd said until it was too late. He looked back at the picture to avoid looking at Calum. When you put Vanessa next to her mom you could see a strong resemblance there as well.
Calum's ears burned with the compliment, and he was at a complete loss for words when the timer went off again, saving them both from the awkward silence. Ashton pulled the pastry out of the oven, flooding the room with a heavenly aroma that had Calum practically drooling. He grinned when he caught sight of the mushroom design Ashton had crafted out of paprika, coriander and sea salt. The mac and cheese was next, producing an insane cheese stretch from the pan to the plate as Ashton served it up. He finished the plate with a pile of oven-roasted celery and leeks topped with a squeeze of fresh lemon juice and cracked black pepper.
Ashton sat at the edge of the bar, at an angle from Calum so they could easily converse while keeping him steps away from the kitchen. At first, they were quiet, the food demanding their full attention, although Ashton had already decided watching Calum's expressions was his new favorite thing. The obscene amount of pleasure he took from his food had Ashton so distracted that he poked himself in the face with his fork.
Calum was in heaven. He didn't know what cheese blend Ashton concocted, but he'd never had anything like this pasta dish in his life. The vegetables were still firm to the bite, and the fresh citrus was a nice contrast to the creamy, heavy cheese sauce. However, the mushroom Wellington was the real stand out, and Calum had never had anything like it. He opened his eyes and caught Ashton staring again. When he looked away quickly and his ears turned red, Calum was hopelessly smitten. He couldn't remember the last time anyone had cooked for him, and never, ever anything like this. He can cook, and he's handsome as hell, with a big dick and his own money?? He's definitely getting his dick sucked tonight. Calum almost burst out laughing hearing Sham's voice in his head. This time it was Ashton's turn to catch Calum staring, but Cal didn't look away. Instead, he gave the chef a wink and a smile before taking another bite.
When dinner was finished, Ashton shooed Calum out onto the balcony so he could pick up a bit. He offered Calum an after-dinner smoke from his case of pre-rolled Raw cones. Ashton used to smoke weed all day long when he was a teenager before quitting cold turkey. The past couple of months, Rafi got him into a couple of decent blends to help him relax in the evening that didn't get him too wasted.
He made sure Calum was out of sight before quickly brushing his teeth in the kitchen sink. Ashton wanted to be prepared in case he got the chance to make a move. He'd even made a peppermint sorbet for dessert to cleanse the palate. He scooped out two small cups and topped them with freshly grated dark chocolate before heading out onto the balcony.
Calum was sitting with his back towards the door, a small cloud of smoke wafting above his head. Ashton opened the door, and the cloud dissipated in the rush of cold air that followed him outside. Calum glanced back over his shoulder and offered the joint to Ashton as he took the icy treat from him. Ashton inhaled deeply one time before gently stubbing it out in the ashtray as he sat across from Calum. Overcome by nerves Ashton began to point out the various herbs and flowers in his little balcony garden. He could tell he was talking too fast, and his palms were sweaty but watching Calum eat ice cream might was obscene,
The peppermint was stronger than Calum expected but left a lingering cool sweetness accentuated by the bittersweet chocolate. He scraped the cup, and ran his finger along the edge before licking it clean. He shivered, and he wasn't sure if it was the chill from the sorbet or nerves as he tried to plan how to ask Ashton out on a date, a real one.
Ashton abruptly stood up and walked to the far end of the balcony looking out at the city. Calum, sensing something was off, hesitated until he saw Ashton kept glancing at him and then looking away. He pushed himself up out of the chair and made his way over to Ashton and stood next to him looking out into the distance.
"You ok? I can go if you want me to. I don't want you to be uncomfortable," Calum didn't know why he said it, but he suddenly panicked.
Ashton looked up, stunned. "No, no, I'm fine. I'm just," he rubbed the back of his neck and looked up at the sky. "I-uh I got nervous."
"Oh?" Calum asked, his pulse picking up.
"Yeah, I don't know how to do this anymore," Ashton mumbled looking at his shoes. "Kissing you is all I've thought about since the moment we met. And wow I said that out loud. Ok so maybe.." Ashton's sentence ended in a squeak as Calum's fingers brushed along his jaw and tipped his chin upwards to find Calum's face inches from his. He leaned forward as Calum's lips found his. The kiss was soft and slow, Calum's hands cupping his face as they melted into each other. Ashton's hands slid up Calum's chest before snaking around his neck and pulling him closer.
Ashton felt as if he were suspended in mid-air, floating and flying as the heat grew in his chest. He had butterflies in his stomach as he pressed himself closer. He felt Calum's strong arms wrap around him, giving him a cheeky squeeze on his ass. They both giggled and pulled away for a moment to breathe. This time Ashton went in first, he'd been dreaming about this moment, and it was better than he'd imagined. He was relieved Calum wasn't trying to rush. Still, he couldn't resist pulling back to nibble on Calum's jaw before scraping his teeth along the hollow of his throat. The whine that escaped Calum's lips, as a result, was almost enough to make him cum in his pants.
"Let's go inside," Ashton took his hand, and Calum followed him into the living room. Calum sat on the couch and tugged Ashton's belt loop to get him to sit down. Ash started to sit next to him, but Calum shook his head and grabbed his thigh, guiding him down so Ashton was straddling him.
Ashton's head was swimming as Calum's gently bit his earlobe and ran his tongue along the curve of his jaw. He moaned and Calum growled in response, grinding his hips into Ashton's where his bulge strained against the fabric of his tight trousers. He reached up and began to unbutton Ashton's shirt, his fingers brushing against the cool steel of the chain he wore around his neck then dropped down, leaving a trail of fire in the wake of each touch. Ashton's breath caught in his throat as Calum began to ease his shirt off of his shoulders while peppering his skin with kisses.
"I should've shaved," he mumbled.
"No," Calum assured him. "I like the chest hair," he whispered before scraping his teeth across his skin.
Ashton moaned, his head rolling back as he concentrated on Calum's mouth and hands, his own fingers grasping the other man's messy black curls. He pushed Calum back against the couch, finding his mouth again and sucking on his bottom lip, electricity coursing between them. Music started playing out of nowhere and he was puzzled when Calum stopped kissing him and wrapped one arm around his waist to hold him in place while he fished his phone out of his pocket.
Ashton frowned at the interruption and shifted his weight, sliding off his lap as Calum looked at him apologetically. "I'm really sorry, but it's Nicole. I think something's wrong."
Ashton's annoyance was immediately replaced by concern. Calum reached over and squeezed his hand, giving him a smile as he answered the call. It was brief, and Ashton heard every word. Nicole wouldn't give details over the phone but Vanessa's school had called and there was to be a teacher-parent meeting the very next day.
"I need you here. You need to be a part of this," she told him.
"I'm on my way," Calum replied without hesitation. He hung up, and Ashton could tell he was pissed and very worried.
"I hope everything is ok," he stood up and headed for the kitchen.
"She's been having a problem with a girl at school. We thought putting her in private school would make her life easier, but these rich kids are nasty little shits. Where did you go?" Calum stood up and straightened his clothes. When he looked up, he was confused by Ashton's sudden disappearance.
"I wanted to send you home with a doggy bag," Ashton replied, coming out of the kitchen with a paper bag in his hand.
"I thought we ate most of it." Now Calum was really perplexed.
He walked Calum to the door. "We did, but these are smaller versions I made for you to take home and cook yourself. I wrote instructions on a card that's in the bag, and there's a piece of flourless chocolate cake I made for dessert." He had to stop for a second and look away, suddenly shy at the way Calum was smiling at him. He took a breath and kept going. "I hate that you have to go, but it's sweet how much you care about your family. I had a really good time tonight, not just because of," he waved towards the couch, "you know, that. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. So maybe, I mean if you want to hang out sometime..."
Calum reached out and brushed his thumb across Ashton's bottom lip. "You're so damn cute when you're nervous." Calum leaned down and gave him a soft kiss goodbye. "I want to take you on a date, a real one. I have to go, but I'll text you. Goodnight." Another kiss and he was gone.
********
They were slow for lunch inside the restaurant. Daniel and Gloria were handling takeout, so Rafi and Hima were doing some extra prep for the weekend. She was helping make challah bread for brunch on Sunday when she spotted her boss gliding into work. She burst into laughter at Ashton's goofy grin despite the dark circles and bags under his eyes. Rafi saw him too and whistled and hooted until Ash flipped them both off and disappeared into his office.
Twenty minutes later, Hima set a plate of cookies down on his desk.
"We want you to try these. We're working on expanding catering to boxed lunches," she told him, sitting across from him.
"We've been open less than a month," he told her, trying not to spit cookie crumbs everywhere.
"We're already doing decent business on takeout, so we're just floating ideas for new revenue streams as word of mouth gets going. The reviews have been glowing, and I've been monitoring social media. We've been getting good exposure so far. I've had some offers to trade a free meal for exposure, but nobody has been worth our time."
Ashton nodded, as he'd learned long ago to trust her instincts. The cookies were perfect, absolutely delicious, but he knew that's not why she was in his office.
"How's my new stepfather? I've never seen you look so joyful, it's almost disturbing." Hima teased, but she was thrilled for him. Ashton deserved to be happy, and if she couldn't snuggle up to Calum “tall, dark, and handsome” Hood, having him as an in-law would work. Ashton took another big bite, chewing intently as if deep in thought. However, the blush creeping up his neck, not to mention the little hickey she spotted under his ear.
“So I take it the dinner went well. How was breakfast?" She asked, batting her eyes innocently.
"You're incorrigible, I swear," he laughed and leaned back in his chair. "He didn't stay the night. We kissed, but he got a phone call and had to leave."
"That fucking sucks," Hima pouted.
"Tell me about it. It was just getting good when the phone rang," Ashton felt himself getting hard thinking about it.
"Oh God, your face right now. You're so lost. Were you in the kitchen? All Hallmark-movies-of-the-week style?"
"No, I was straddling him on my couch if you may know," he told her just as she took a drink of water.
She tried not to choke and succeeded in dribbling water down her chin as she sputtered. "The mental image I just got. I hate you, you know that right?" She wiped her face with a towel she pulled from her apron and then threw it at Ashton.
"He's really a great guy," Ashton giggled. "Have you watched him eat though?"
"I know right, the faces," Hima almost yelled, catching herself and taking it down a notch. "I've never seen anything like it. Makes you wonder eh?" She wiggled her eyebrows at him. "Seriously though, I'm really happy it worked out. You guys are gonna make such a cute couple. Now we have to find someone for me."
"Why? Is Dakota not working out?" It was Ashton's turn to look innocent as he watched the comment land.
Hima blinked rapidly before looking him straight in the eye. "I was not expecting that. How did you know?" She asked, but the answer came to her at the same time. "The cameras are on your phone. Am I fired?"
"Are you kidding? No, I'm just teasing, but yeah that caught me by surprise the other night," Ashton felt awful when she burst into tears. "You're not in trouble. Hima, look at me, we're friends. I'm not mad. I'm not going to tell your family." He came around the desk and pulled her out of her chair and into a hug.
Hima started to laugh, and he could feel her shaking in his arms. "Oh shit, sorry," she wiped away tears, as she eased away from him.. "I don't know why I reacted like that. I felt like my dad caught me lying and there was this rush of blind panic."
"I'm sorry, I was just fucking with you," Ashton didn't know what to say.
"I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m wanting to try things. But if I’m feeling guilty I can’t enjoy it. Can I tell you?" Ashton nodded and she continued. "I met him on FetLife, more on that in a second. He's got a girlfriend, but he wanted to try something new. Maisie won't let me use her place to meet up when her roommate is there. I had fun, but I didn't feel good about it after so it's a one and done. Anyway, I'm pretty sure Calum is on FetLife. He has a pain kink, nipple clamps, and light bondage from what I saw on his profile. I checked this morning and his profile was deleted. I'll send you the screenshot I took the first time. I don't know his tattoos, but you might."
There was a loud knock at the door, and they both jumped. Rafi opened the door before Ashton could answer, and Hima was taken aback by how angry he looked.
"You're not gonna believe this boss," Rafi said, a flush creeping up his neck. "Luke's here, he wants to see you."
Ashton jumped up followed by Hima hot on his heels. Gloria stopped them in the kitchen, blocking Ashton's path as they began to go back and forth arguing in Spanish with Rafi and Daniel cutting into the conversation.
Hima was the only person in the room who hadn't come over from Lune Rouge and wasn't included in the conversation. She took advantage of the distraction to slip past them and out through the prep area to the bar. She was looking towards the hostess podium, not expecting him to be sitting two feet from her looking straight at her as she came through the swinging doors. She'd seen enough pictures to recognize him right away, but he was even better looking in person. His blue eyes were sad, and for a second she thought he’d been crying. He turned on the charm instantly, giving her his best smile and extending his hand.
"I recognize you," he told her. "You're Hima, Ash's girl wonder. I've heard so many good things about you. I went to Johnson and Wales for a bit myself. It's a pleasure to meet you."
Hima instantly saw how Ashton had been so thoroughly bewitched by this man, and it amazed her that Luke had the balls to walk into their restaurant. She opened her mouth to tell him so when Ashton came out of the kitchen on the other side of the bar. Rafi came out and stood next to her behind the bar until Ashton glared at them and they ducked back inside.
"What do you want?" Ashton asked, folding his arms across his chest.
"Listen, I didn't know how else to reach you," Like started.
"There's a reason for that. What do you want?" Ashton repeated the question.
"Can we sit down and talk, somewhere private? It's been so long" Luke whined, the sound grating on Ashton's nerves.
"Nope, I'm busy and I don't want you here. Please leave, don't contact me again," Ashton turned to go.
"Wait its Mom," Luke played his ace card. "She had surgery. I'm worried about her."
Ashton turned back around slowly, looking at Luke, who couldn't quite hide the triumphant smirk knowing he still had leverage over his ex. Ashton’s anger felt hollow now, not the gut-wrenching agonizing pain that once was there every day since he caught Luke cheating. It was gone, all of it. The realization was liberating. Knowing the seething hatred didn't follow him like a storm cloud, and the spell of attraction was irrefutably broken. Ashton knew right then that he didn't love Luke anymore, and he couldn't ever get it back even if he wanted to.
"Luke, your mom had her thyroid removed last Thursday. She's fine, we're having lunch next week. Get the fuck out of my restaurant," Ashton hissed.
Luke looked like he was going to start something, but Ashton stared him down, watching as he left the restaurant, got in his car, and drove away. He then pushed back through the kitchen doors, past everyone without a word, locked himself in his office, sat in his chair, and wept for almost an hour. The adrenaline rush of seeing Luke, the relief of knowing it was done, needed a release. When he was finished, he cleaned up a bit and finished the cookies Hima had left on his desk. There were a couple of text messages on his phone. The first was from Hima
You ok boss?
Never been better, I'll be out in a bit
Under that was Calum
Can't wait to see you again but I have to go out of town tomorrow. There's an event at the observatory for the meteor shower so I'll be up in the mountains. Let me pick you up Monday afternoon if you don't have to work
He did have to work, but Hima was off and she'd switch with him for this.
Sounds good, let me know what time
I can't wait 😉 I wanna pick up where we left off before we were interrupted. I'm almost at school. I have to go to the principal's office, some things never change. Looking forward to Monday
Ashton read the message, not knowing how he was going to stand the anticipation. He got up to find Hima. e could not work Monday. This was too important.
*********
Calum pulled into the parking spot, looking up at Ashton's building. He sent a text letting him know he was outside. As he waited, Calum glanced into the backseat at the picnic basket full of goodies Hima had helped him select. He'd sent her an email on his way out of town headed to where he would have little to no cell service. There was a little park that, if you knew how to wind through a subdivision full of dead-end and one-way streets, was about twenty minutes away from Calum's house. There was a duck pond next to a jacaranda tree that he'd always thought would be perfect for a date. He glanced up at the cloudy sky praying the weather held throughout the day.
Calum wiped his palms on his jeans and took a deep breath. He'd been looking forward to this all weekend, even sitting in the observatory atop Mt Hamilton watching shooting stars streak across the sky. He'd been impatient to get back to Ashton. Bewitched, bothered, and bewildered. The lyrics to a song he hadn't heard in over a decade bubbled up into his brain, taking him back to his grandmother in Scotland cleaning her kitchen and singing along to the FM radio above her sink.
I'm wild again, beguiled again. Gran always told his sister to "find a brawny lad who can make you laugh and works hard." Calum grinned, watching Ashton emerge from his building wearing a green, long-sleeved Henley shirt and black skinny jeans that clung to his physique. Brawny lad indeed.
Calum turned the music down when Ashton opened the car door and climbed in. He was completely caught off guard when the other man handed him a small bundle from behind his back. Calum looked at the small bunch of plants tied together with kitchen twine and a small ribbon.
"You brought me flowers?" He asked, feeling his face get warm. "That's so thoughtful." Calum's throat was tight, and he knew he was blushing crimson. He smiled at Ashton, trying not to get too emotional. He focused on the bouquet which allowed him to take a second to regain his composure. As he did, he realized this was unlike any bouquet he'd seen before. "Are these from your garden?"
"Yeah," Ashton giggled, giddy and nervous. He shifted in his seat. He pointed to the small purple flowers on one. "These are chive blossoms, sage, and thyme." His fingers brushed the delicate white bell shaped blossoms. "Sweet marjoram, and this is borage, both great additions to a salad or stew. I added some daisies and rosemary for color and fragrance. I'm glad you like them." Calum looked up and Ashton looked away, shy again.
"If you're trying to impress me, it's working. I love them, thank you," he said brushing his fingers along the back of Ashton's hand. He reached behind his seat and grabbed a handful of napkins and a cup out of the picnic supplies. He carefully wrapped up the little bundle and placed it in the cup. "We should get going before the weather turns on us."
"Where are we going?" Ashton asked, buckling his seatbelt.
"It's a surprise," Calum winked at him.
"How was the meteor shower?" Ashton asked.
"Out of this world," Calum shot back and they both erupted into laughter.
Ashton leaned back in his seat, watching Calum's face as he concentrated on getting through a construction zone. His eyes landed on a small faint bruise on Calum's neck. He felt his cock twitch in his pants at the memory of leaving the mark, knowing he had every intention of leaving more later tonight.
Calum glanced over, and this time Ashton didn't look away, instead giving him a wink and a sly smile before Calum had to tear his eyes away to focus on the road. He gasped when Ashton reached over and put a hand on his knee. Ashton jerked his hand back at the sound, but Calum caught it. He gave him a squeeze then placed Ashton's hand on his leg again, slightly higher than before.
"Almost there, this place is a maze, but it's a nice quiet park," Calum made a series of turns and Ashton spotted the park up ahead. They passed the first parking lot near a playground where several kids were running around before making another turn and parking in a smaller lot.
Calum got out and walked to the back of the Rover. Ashton came around right as he was opening the hatch.
"What can I carry?" Ashton asked.
Calum frowned and pulled his phone out of his pocket. He had his phone set to only allow for two numbers to ring through.
Ashton's heart sank watching Calum's expression. Please not another family emergency. He felt guilty, but he wanted Calum all to himself today.
"It's my mom, she's probably calling to chat but I have to answer. Give me just a second, I'm so sorry," Calum apologized.
Ashton nodded and smiled, hoping it was nothing serious. "I'm a Mama's boy too," he reminded him. "I'll look around a bit."
Ashton wandered off towards a lovely pond where he spotted a family of ducks swimming together. There was a tree overlooking the pond giving off shade and a little privacy. He heard Calum laugh and say his goodbyes to his mom, and he was relieved to see everything was fine. The ducks quacked out a warning before turning and swimming in the other direction. He started to turn back to go help Calum unload the car when the first raindrop hit his nose. Ashton looked up as it started to sprinkle. As he headed back towards the parking lot the drizzle increased to a soft steady rain. Then a streak of lightning split the sky with a deafening crack causing Ashton to almost jump out of his skin at the incredible noise. Unfortunately, this caused him to lose his footing and slip on the wet grass. He crashed hard into the ground and fell again when he tried to get up. Calum hurried over and reached Ashton just as he struggled to his feet, his left side streaked with mud and grass clippings sticking to his skin and hair.
"Are you ok?" Calum reached out to steady him.
"Yeah let's get out of here," Ashton snapped. "Sorry, I'm not mad at you."
"It's fine, really," Calum opened his door for him before going to his side and getting in. "We'll go to my house, I live ten minutes from here."
Ashton hesitated, not wanting to dirty up Calum's car, getting soaked standing there.
"It's fine," Calum reassured him.
Ashton thought for a second and then pulled his shirt, which got the worst of the mud, off over his head, wrung it out as best he could, tossed it on the rubber floor mat, and got in.
Calum turned the car on and flipped the heat on low so Ashton wouldn't get chilled. He wanted to say something, make small talk, anything as they drove in silence.
"I'm sorry about that," he began.
"Why? Rain is rain, it's not your fault. I might need to borrow your shower though. The grass is starting to itch," Ashton reached over and put his hand on Calum's knee again. Calum pulled it a little higher, and Ashton responded by sliding his hand all the way up Calum's thigh as far as he could go without actually touching his dick. Calum didn't say a word but Ashton smiled as he heard the sharp intake of breath and felt the car accelerate in response.
They pulled up to a small bungalow at the end of a winding road as the rain started to pick up. Calum grabbed the basket and handed Ashton a bag and they both made a dash for the front door. They were greeted by Brutus barking and bouncing on his back legs at the sight of Ashton. Calum was stunned when the little dog launched himself at the newcomer’s ankles, immediately flipping over for a belly rub.
"Somebody's friendly," Ashton cooed, leaning down to pet him.
"Not usually," Calum told him. "I'll get set up in here. Follow me, I'll show you where the shower is." He walked down the hall, Ashton and Brutus trailing behind him. He stopped at a closet and grabbed a couple of towels before opening another door. "This is the bathroom. I've got a couple different kinds of body wash, use whatever you need and I'll find you something dry to change into. You want a t-shirt or button up? Pants or shorts?" Calum asked trying not to gawk at Ashton's bare chest.
Ashton shrugged. "Something that's comfortable and easy to take off sounds good. It won't take long. It's not safe but I've gotta rinse off." The lights flickered and they both looked up.
"You'd better hurry. I'll leave the clothes outside the door," Calum told him before leaning in for a quick kiss.
Ashton frowned when he pulled back but Calum winked and disappeared into his bedroom across the hall. Ashton was tempted to follow but he needed to stop itching first.
*******
Ashton was halfway down the hall when the lights went out. He'd changed into the pajama pants and t-shirt Calum left hanging on the doorknob. He followed a soft glow until he found himself in the living room. Calum had set up some food in a spread on the coffee table, but he was nowhere to be seen. Ashton sat down on the couch and began to nibble on some strawberries when he heard a door slam and Calum came out wearing similar drawstring pants and a black shirt fully unbuttoned so the candlelight reflected off his bare chest making him look like a golden god.
"Oh hey, that was quick. I didn't know how hungry you were so I put the cold stuff in the fridge. I thought you might want to have a drink first. I have wine."
"Sounds good, we can eat later. I'm not really thinking about food right now," Ashton replied, food the furthest thing from his mind.
Calum sat down next to him, handing him a glass of red wine. Ashton took a sip and recognized it as a German ice wine he loved that was not easy to come by.
"How did you know? How did you find it so quickly?" Ashton looked up in disbelief.
"My wife called your wife about the feature and next thing I know I've got a box on my doorstep with this wine and some salami I've never heard of. There was also a caramel brownie cake that looks like it's gonna go straight to my hips. I did my own research for the rest of it. I know this date isn't going exactly how I wanted it to, but I wanted to make things special. At least the food will be good," Calum sighed.
"You didn't have to do all that," Ashton told him.
"Yeah I did," Calum responded. "You really went all out the other day. Everyone I’ve talked to while writing this feature has gone on and on about how kind and generous you are. You’re always put so much effort into other people and you deserve to have someone make that kind of effort for you. You're so warm and caring, and funny too. Anyone who doesn't see how special you are is an idiot," Calum stopped talking, afraid he'd said too much. He took a big gulp of wine only looking up when Ashton reached over to take the glass from his hand. He set both their glasses on the table and turned back to Calum.
Without a word, Calum reached for him pulling him onto his lap, Ashton's knees on either side of his hips. Ashton slid Calum's shirt off his shoulders as their lips met with a heated urgency. Calum nipped Ashton's bottom lip before their tongues tangled. Ashton pulled back and grazed his teeth and tongue down Calum's throat. His long fingers traced around Cal's dark nipples before giving them a sharp tug. Calum grunted and bucked underneath him in response making Ashton try it again. Leaving slow sucking kisses down his neck pinching the stiff rosy buds after each one as Calum began to grind his erection up against Ashton. Breathy cries escaped his lips as he got more aroused, more desperate.
Calum was tugging at the drawstring on Ashton's pants and slipping past the waistband. His hand closed around Ashton's length and he moaned in anticipation. It was bigger than he expected and thicker than anything Calum had imagined outside of porn and his wildest dreams.
"Let me suck you off," Calum begged as Ashton continued to mark up his neck.
Ashton shook his head, his soft curls brushing against Calum's jaw.
"Can't let that happen, sweetheart," Ashton answered, barely lifting his lips from the patchwork of red welts and slight purple bruises. "I'll cum too fast if I let you put those pretty lips around my cock. I've thought about it so many times."
Calum shivered as much from the heat of the other man's breath on his skin as the words he'd said.
"Mmmm I like that," Calum hissed. He arched his back as Ashton's head dipped lower, sucking a trail down his chest and latching onto his nipple. "I've wanted this, need you, Ash."
Ashton pushed hard against Calum's chest and stood up. Calum whined at the sudden lack of contact, his kiss swollen lips pursing into a pout.
"What's wrong?" He asked, looking up at Ashton who was peeling off his shirt revealing his lean physique, chest heaving with a sheen of sweat, tattooed flames peeking out underneath his ribs. Calum started to get up but Ashton stopped him.
"Nothing's wrong, everything is perfect," Ashton told him, bending down for a quick kiss. "I wanted to take my time but hearing you moan my name like that is too much. Slide your pants down, let me taste you." Ashton carefully moved the table back far enough they wouldn't bump anything as things got crazy.
"Oh God," Calum gasped as Ashton kneeled between his thighs, tugging impatiently as he raised his hips and kicked his shorts off.
Ashton licked around the tip of Calum's cock feeling it twitch seeking his mouth. Calum reached for him but Ashton pinned his hands beside him on the couch. "Not yet," Ashton teased, fluttering the tip of his tongue along the ridge.
"Oh fuck Ashton, please," Calum's eyes rolled back and his jaw dropped open as Ashton took him all the way down his throat. He had to concentrate to keep himself from exploding right then. Calum tried to squirm away but there was nowhere to go. Ashton let up instantly.
"Are you ok? Do you want me to stop?" Ashton's hazel eyes were searching Calum's face.
Calum grabbed Ashton's hand and placed it in his inner thigh. "I don't want you to ever stop. I'm just trying not to bust too soon."
Ashton grinned and leaned forward. His mouth hovered just above Calum's shaft, close enough he could reach out with the tip of his tongue, if he wanted to.
"Don't want that to happen do we?" Ashton smirked, grasping the base of Calum's shaft applying pressure just above the balls and pulling it back away from Calum's stomach.
"Keep doing that," Calum moaned, waiting until the pressure turned to slight pain. "Let go, let go," he cried and Ashton released his grip letting his dick spring back, slapping against his stomach. "Fuck babe, do that again," Calum whined, pulling his nipples his dark eyes intensely focused on Ashton.
Ashton flushed under Calum's stare feeling the knot in his stomach twist with desire as Calum moaned with each stroke, each release. They were both sweating now, the dim light giving Calum's broad chest as Ashton pushed up and met Calum's lips for a kiss.
Ashton stood up looking down at Calum seated on the couch. Reaching down he cupped his hand around the massive bulge straining against his pants before pushing his hips towards Calum's face. His dark bushy eyebrows raised in a smirk Calum began to tease Ashton with nips and sucking kisses. Ashton hissed at the feeling of teeth grazing his shaft through the flannel. Calum groaned against him as Ashton impatiently slithered the waistband down past his hips. Calum's mouth was on him in a flash, lips parted and taking him down past the back of his throat resisting the urge to gag around his length. Ashton cried out as his hands tangled in Calum's soft curls leaning his weight against Calum to keep his knees from shaking.
Calum looked up at the man hovering over him, their eyes met and the need intensified. Ashton bent down for a kiss as Calum's hands reached up pulling his hips down once more. In between the flurry of passionate kisses and hands roaming and grasping desperately to feel as much of the other’s skin against their own Calum could barely gasp out the words.
"How do you want me?"
Ashton's head spun at the sound of the words. He'd imagined this so many times, gotten himself off so many times thinking about this moment. Now that it was here he didn't hesitate to answer.
"I wanna ride you until you cum for me," Ashton told him.
Calum looked shocked and Ashton started to explain, "normally I'm a top but with you I thought-"
He couldn't finish the sentence before Calum stopped him with a kiss. "Don't have to explain. I wanna try everything you wanna try. Let me grab something really quickly," Calum helped Ashton shift so he could get up. He grabbed a towel and pulled open the drawer on the coffee table where he'd stashed lube and condoms just in case. Ashton chuckled but his breath caught in his throat as Calum turned back towards him. Fully nude, the candlelight cast a golden glow across Calum's chest and thighs as he walked back towards the couch, sliding the condom on with a stroke and Ashton couldn't remember anything sexier. They settled back on the couch with Ashton straddling Calum his knees on either side of his hips. Calum moved his hand down as Ashton raised his hips as Cal's fingers moved past Ashton's balls to tease his tight hole.
Ashton sighed and relaxed back against Calum feeling himself being spread open as he worked another couple of fingers in. When Ashton had gotten used to the stretch he began to rock his hips impatiently and wanting more. Calum chuckled against Ashton's chest as Ashton took the lube from him and made sure Calum's cock was nice and slick before easing the head of it into his eager entrance. Calum held his breath, clenching his stomach and thighs to hold still while Ashton carefully worked Calum's length inside him. The pain gave way to a throbbing ache as Ashton began to rock his hips. Calum was thick, so he felt the most delicious stretch. Calum's hands roamed everywhere. He ran his nails along Ashton's thighs, stroking over the phoenix tattoo on his ribcage, and grazed through Ashton's chest hair before tugging at his necklace. Ashton's hips moved faster as he leaned back to balance his hands on Calum's thighs. Calum wrapped his hand around Ashton's cock matching thrust in time. There were no words needed as they moved together moans and groans punctuated with the occasional soft little sigh because it just felt so good.
Calum's hips bucked and he knew he couldn't hold back much longer. Not with the way Ashton was bouncing on him now, his thighs pumping as he sought his own climax. Ashton leaned forward whimpering into Calum's neck, nuzzling and nibbling. His tempo increased, his nails dug into Calum's scalp and his long fingers pulled his curls. Calum kept one hand on Ashton's shaft while the other clutched Ashton's hip spurring him on.
A growl ripped from Ashton's chest as his orgasm exploded from his core shooting electricity through every nerve ending in his body. Calum felt him erupt between their bodies spilling through his fingers and onto his chest. Ashton clenched around Calum's cock sending him crashing into ecstasy as Ashton's hips stuttered and jerked, milking every drop from Calum as he thrust up into Ashton, his eyes rolling back in his head. Ashton sat up pulling Calum's head into his chest, Calum's arms wrapped around Ashton's waist as they traded breaths and their heartbeats slowed back down. Ashton eased himself off Calum causing both of them to groan a little at the lack of contact.
Calum got up and staggered into the kitchen to throw the condom away and wash his hands. He came back with a bottle of water for each of them, flipping the spout up before handing it over. Ashton sat up and guzzled the entire bottle as Calum grabbed the towel wiping himself off quickly and tossing it on the couch. Ashton excused himself to clean up and when he came back Calum had moved the table back by the couch and was munching on a cluster of grapes.
"Sorry, but I'm always hungry after sex," Calum looked sheepish and Ashton noticed he hadn't bothered to get dressed yet. Not that I'm complaining. Ashton ran his hand up Calum's thigh as he settled next to him on the couch.
"Don't apologize," Ashton gave him a wink. "You need to get your strength back for round two."
"Oh yeah?" Calum raised his eyebrows and bit into the fruit, letting the juices dribble down his chin.
"Keep looking at me like that and see what happens," Ashton smirked but he was hungry too.
Calum pulled a throw blanket and some cushions on to the floor so they could stretch out. Ashton poured more wine while Calum grabbed the food out of the fridge. Ashton's mouth watered when he saw the espresso baked brie and the spinach croquettes. Calum had done his homework and Ashton was incredibly touched by the effort.
Calum sat down with his back against the couch and Ashton propped himself up at a slight angle to him, close enough to touch, with the food places between them, their legs stretched out and tangled together. They ate in comfortable silence exchanging smiles and glances between bites. They found little ways to touch each other, unable to keep their hands off each other. Calum fed Ashton a bite of chocolate only to find the other man's lips pressed to the inside of his wrist. Ashton wiping crumbs off Calum's bottom lip before finding his thumb captured between Cal's teeth. Calum laughed and started to say something but Ashton had spaced out on him.
"What's on your mind?" Calum cringed when he realized he'd spoken out loud.
"I'm trying not to think about things too much, it's never a good idea," Ashton admitted. He was already in too deep, whether he said it out loud or not.
Calum pulled Ashton in close, folding the other man into his arms so his head was resting just above Calum's heart. Ashton closed his eyes, listened to the rhythm, and the rise and fall of Calum's chest.
"I know what you mean. This is going to sound corny but I feel like I should be nervous, I'm not though. I really like you and I'm not going to try to find something wrong. I'm too excited to see what happens next." Calum finished his thought with a string of kisses along Ashton's hairline before adding," I have to Venmo Hima $100 before I forget."
Ashton pulled back laughing, he grabbed his phone off the table. "I can't say shit, she pulled the same scam on me."
Calum laughed and leaned forward to get his phone as well. Ashton eyed Calum's bare ass noticing the slight tan line just above his hips. Calum saw his expression and wiggled his hips. "Like what you see?" Calum's tone was playful but Ashton could see his dick getting hard again.
"I will take you right here Hood," Ashton growled reaching for a condom.
Calum's phone rang, it was Hima on FaceTime.
"Answer it, I dare you," Ashton pulled Calum onto his back and placed his hands on the back of Calum's thighs.
"Hima, what's up?" As soon as Calum answered the call he felt Ashton's tongue teasing between his cheeks. He fought to keep a straight face as he told Hima about the disaster in the park despite Ashton probing and licking against his hole. Aston buried his tongue and Calum ended the call without saying goodbye and tossed his phone to the side.
Ashton made Calum beg to be fucked before he finally relented and replaced his tongue with the head of his dick. Ashton kept Calum's knees to his chest as he took his time easing his cock into Calum's ass, adding lube as he went. Calum had never been with anyone this big and he pulled his own nipples as Ashton stretched him as far as he could go. The thrill of the pain was unlike anything Calum had experienced and Ashton made him beg before he pushed further. Calum gasped as Ashton bottomed out, seeing his arms flex as he held himself in place, the light reflecting off the red blood moon tattoos and bold black star. Ashton moved his hips, barely pulling out and rocking against his ass to hit a spot deep inside him that Calum never knew existed. The surprised moan that filled the room spurred Ashton to maintain that control, giving long slow deep strokes, and hitting that spot each time.
Calum's hand closed around his dick, trying to keep from cumming before he was ready. Ashton switched positions, biceps curling around Calum's thick thighs as they moved together, chasing their climax together.
Calum arched his back, his spine contracting and releasing slamming his hips against the floor. Ashton rutted his hips, pushing deeper into Calum. His vision blurred as Calum's name fell from his lips. Calum cried out underneath him and Ashton watched Calum's release spattering his chest and stomach with white streaks. Ashton collapsed on top of him shaking uncontrollably as he came undone.
"Oh my God Ashton, that was incredible," Calum whispered when he found his voice again. They untangled from each other, both sticky and sleepy, overheated from exertion.
Calum made sure the candles were blown up and there was nothing left out that could hurt Brutus before he led Ashton into the bathroom where they fumbled around in the shadows taking turns rinsing each other off and exchanging clumsy kisses. Calum took them into his bedroom, pulling the covers down on the bed as the electric came back on. The AC started with a whoosh turning the room chilly very quickly. They scrambled under the covers quickly, fighting for the covers and giggling like little kids. There was a bit of awkward positioning before they ended up laying face to face unable to stop staring at each other, chatting for what seemed like hours, hands, and legs intertwined before they finally dozed off.
**********
When Ashton woke up he was alone in a strange bed. The smell of Calum tickled his senses and the bed was still warm. There was a light shining from the hallway. He listened and heard tiny scraping sounds coming towards him before a small dog burst into the room and launched himself on the bed. Brutus attacked Ashton with doggy kisses as Calum followed him into the room.
"Brutus, get down," Calum scolded him. "Sorry about that. He needed to go out and I was trying not to wake you."
"What time is it?" Ashton looked around for his phone.
"It's a little after midnight, I can drive you home if you need to go," Calum offered, unable to hide his sudden disappointment.
"There's nowhere else I want to be, come back to bed," Ashton yawned and stretched out.
Calum slid under the covers, cuddling into Ashton's body heat, Brutus curled up on the duvet between them. Calum rested his head against his shoulder and Ashton's fingers aimlessly snaked through Calum's soft dark curls. The rain began again as they drifted off to dream together.
@sublimehood @tea4sykes @be-ready-when-i-say-go @scribblesos @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @wildmichaelflower @castaway-cashton @damselindistressanu @notinthesameguey @cashtonasfuck @irwinkitten @mermaidcashton @malumsmermaid
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Official Girl— Zion Kuwonu
Warnings: mild mature language.
Theme: Angst / Fluff ??? I guess I vauguely know the diff.
Summary: you and Zion have been together for almost half a year, but it didn’t feel like it cause when it came down to the public eye, he was single. And you were just his friend.
A/N: I did not proofread any of this so if there’s some spelling errors I apologize, and I hope it isn’t cringe! Enjoy🖤
You and Zion have been dating for almost a year and to your surprise no one even knew expect the PRETTYMUCH members along with their girlfriends. Neither of your family members knew either. You had a million thoughts going through your brain debating which thought was the placebo of why he would want to hide your relationship for almost a year. Don’t get it wrong, your relationship is great, he makes you happy. But hearing him tell the rest of his friends any beanz that ‘you’re aren’t his girl’ and ‘just a friend’ kinda made you think back on the days where you were stuck in the friend zone with him.
Sighing you slouch in your chair turning in your essay. You decided to go to los angles to study for your major. You wanted to get out of your hometown experience new places and people. You met Zion through one of your friends. You’ve never even heard of ‘PRETTYMUCH’ until she showed you a few of their music videos and interviews you started to hone in on them. Next thing you knew your friend bought you guys tickets and meet and greets in los angles.
Zion had his eyes on you on and off the entire time on stage. And boy was he thrilled to see you at meet and greet. And that’s the cliché way you meet Zion and became his “girlfriend” more like “girl-friend” groaning you hop out the bed going to grab a cup of water but your phones text tone vibration on the cherry wood table stops you. Moving towards your phone you see a text from the devil himself. Crazy how the universe works.
[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
Hey mamas you wanna go to a birthday party with me? I promise I’ll stick by you the whole night ❤️
Moral of the story to the last sentence Zion typed was prettymuch had a album release party with a lot of their friends and Zion invited you. But twenty minutes into the party Zion left you and was faded and tipsy.So you ended up taking an uber back home and went to sleep. Zion didn’t get a wink of sleep that night worrying about you.
[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
Hm. Fine I’ll go but you better keep your promise.
[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
I promise babygirl. The party isn’t until late around 8pm so I’ll come pick you up. I love you can’t wait to see your fine ass🥵
Rolling your eyes at his flirty remarks. One thing you can’t knock him for is he always reminds you how beautiful you are. Sitting your phone down you go back to the previous task, grabbing the glass and sticking it on the dispenser filling it half empty half full. Sipping on the ice cold water you make your way back to room deciding how you would kill two hours worth of time.
Waking up an hour and a half later you decided to go ahead and take a shower. While waiting for the water to heat up you grab your phone turning on your Bluetooth speaker to blare music for your invisible fans. First song to come up on shuffle was official girl by Cassie. You place your fingers in the shower feeling the warm water slide down your fingertips. Stripping out of your clothes you jump in the shower.
“You gotta love me in the light and the dark” you sung out loud. As you were singing the lyrics it resonated with your feelings towards Zion.After your quick shower you got dressed and did your hair in a style you loved. Looking at the clock wondering would Zion be on his way yet,It’s 7:30pm and he hasn’t sent a single text or call. Going to your messages you decide to text him.
[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
Zion what time are you coming to pick me up?
Setting your phone back down, you grab your platform boots slipping them on and tying them up. Grabbing your favorite perfume brand lathering your body up in it. fifteen minutes later and you still got nothing from Zion. You launch the Instagram app seeing Zion posted on his Instagram 3 minutes ago a screen of his monitor and fortnite asking for someone to join the lobby.
You roll your eyes wondering why you even texted him in the first place, him and fortnite have a better relationship than you and Zion. You decided to text one of the members.
[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]
Hey Brandon is the party still going on tonight?
[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]
. yeah , we’re actually here where are you and Zion?
[ To: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]
‘Zion’ is on fortnite rn, ill be coming in uber please give me the address🙄
[ From: Raisin Bran ⛓ ]
. I mean you don’t have to come if you don’t want too.
It’s better to have fun, then being cooped up in the house doing nothing, what could go wrong? You though you yourself. Pulling your leather skirt down a little you stand up and place an uber order Your uber arrived twenty minutes later,On the way to the party you have been listening to music with occasionally conversations with the driver. Your phone vibrates, and from the vibrations you know who it is. And you dread wether you should reply or not.but deep down you know you can’t ignore him.
[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]
Yo Sorry mamas I didn’t see your text.
[ From Babie 🤧🧡 ]
I’m coming to get your fine ass now🥵
[ To: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
No worries Zion lol, I’m catching a ride to the party.
[ From: Babie 🤧🧡 ]
Who’s takin you?
Ignoring his question you decide to screenlock your phone and enjoy the soft ride. The ride was about an extra twenty minutes to get there but it was a pleasant ride nevertheless
Getting out of the car you thank the driver and prepare yourself for the house full of sweaty young adults, blaring loud music and the smell of different strains of weed. Pulling your skirt down a little you walk up to the door ignoring the few whistles and hollers from the drunk guys falling around and laughing on the grass. Knocking on the door you await for anyone to open the door it was starting to get a little chilly outside. “Y/N?” Someone speaks in a puzzled tone. Turning your head around your eyes are met with nick, nodding your head you step off the steps to be engulfed in a hug.
“How are you, what are you doing here by yourself?” Nick questions
“Well I’m not by myself now am I ?” You joke sarcastically, nick shows his cheeky smile while opening the door for you. Upon your sight is a house filled to the rim of people, red solo cups scattered all over the floor, multiple groups of people playing games and kissing.
“Where’s Zion?” Nick asks, while the both of you walk into the kitchen, the constant questions of “Zion” is starting to agitate you more and more. You wanted to have fun and not think about Zion. Because frankly Zion hasn’t been thinking about you. Before you could answer nick’s question soft delicate caramel tattooed arms wrapped around your shoulders with a sweet scent of strawberries and mint leaves.
“I’m here” his voice hones in on your ear lobes, his lips reaching your temple slightly and rapidly before any one could catch eyes on it “hey mamas” Zion’s voice vibrates across your skin.
“Hi” you answer softly not really wanting to talk to him you’d hoped to avoid, nick offers you and Zion a drink grabbing the shot you swallow it down like it was water. Passing the shot glass over to nick for another round.
“Woah mamas slow down okay?” Zion mumbles from behind you with his hands firmly placed on you lower back. Ignoring his comment you drink down another shot earning a “wooo” from nick as he fires you up for your last shot of the day with a slice of lime from the fridge.
“Thank you nick” you smile eating the lime in one hand and firmly grasping the cold water bottle in the other. You turn around to say something to Zion but he’s gone in the back talking to someone. you decide it’s really time to have fun since you’re “single” in the dark. Before you could head over to the dance floor a guy walks up to you with a sheepish grin. His teeth were pearly white and aligned with each other not missing a single space or gap, his skin screamed Melanin “hello how are you?” He asks very politely.
“I’m fine and you?”
“Good if you’re breathing, I was wondering would you like to have a dance? If you don’t mind” he hesitates,not even thinking of an answer you grab his hand reporting to the dance floor. (A/N i thought about the lyric from you by Lloyd ‘And uh, I want all my sexy ladies to report to the dance floor immediately’ lol sorry I may have made you cringe)
you get on the dance floor dancing to the song that’s blaring through the speakers. Taking sips from another shot you grabbed on your way to the dance floor why not? You did say you wanted to have fun. Softly the mysterious man lays his hand on your hips digging his fingertips into your waist. Even though you knew you were with Zion. You wasn’t just going to grind up on some guy even though your devil shoulder told you too.
Zion finishes his conversation with a friend he used to know in Canada, now he was on his way to look for you trying to keep his promise of never leaving tonight. Meeting nick back at the kitchen his thick eyebrows knitted in confusion. Nick not wanting to hear the anger bounce off on him, he decides to point in the direction of you and the mysterious guy. Fuming with vexation, he squeezed the bottle in his hands until his knuckles turned white. Heading over towards the problem he grab you by your arm softly but cautiously. The guy stands back smirking at the sight of a jealous Zion. while you were a bit staggering from the four shots of alcohol you took.
“Hey chill out we were dancing and having a good time!” The guy slurs his words. You started to sober up slightly at the sight of Zion’s muscles in his jawline clenching on and off his knuckles turning ghostly white as he holds in every excuse to lay this guy out with his fists. His face almost beat red.
“Have a good time with someone else not her” Zion excuses the both of you guys away from him and into a quieter location, closing the door behind him Zion let’s out a groan of frustration as his fingers roam through the tangles of his dreads. “What the fuck was that y/n?!” Zion yells but not too aggressive because even though he’s mad at you, you’re still his baby and he’ll never disrespect you.
“What ? I can’t have fun? I mean I’m not your official girl anyways” you slur your truth with hidden sarcasm. You were tipsy and when you’re tipsy the truth comes out. And in the back of your mind you knew once the truth came out things were going to change.
“Y/n what the fuck are you talking about? , of course you are my girl mamas” his tone of voice changes obviously struck by your words, not wanting to look into his eyes with your glassy eyes, you turn your head, not even batting an eye at him, you just couldn’t your heart shattered even thinking of telling him how you felt.
“No I’m not Zion” you choke at your first sentence “I’m your friend, you know the girl who hangs out with you occasionally and comes in your Instagram lives, I’m the girl you say ‘Nah she’s the homie’ I’m not your fucking girl Zion, and it’s been that way for half a goddamn year!” You bark at him, Zion tries to reach for your hands but falls short as you pull them away from his reach “ if you don’t wanna be with me tell me. If you’re embarrassed by me tell me. Fucking give me something I’m tired of being your unofficial girl” you wipe your tears heading straight for the door but Zion blocks it.
“Wait Mamas listen,” his words fall short trying to bite back the tears, his whole world crashing down in front of his eyes “i couldn’t be so fucking proud to have you as my girlfriend, you don’t understand how happy I am to hold you in my arms every fucking day, how proud I am to have you in the studio with me because that’s the only way I can work faster, babygirl you are everything and more I’ve ever needed”
“Zion this secrecy is making me feel like I’m not good enough” your voice cracks filling the room up with icy cold tension. You’re trying so hard to stop crying but you can’t, all the bottled up feelings are just slipping through the cracks. Zion rapidly walks over to you to hold you in his arms. Your brain wants to push him off,but your heart wants to be held until your cries muffled into the music in the background. His slender golden fingers hold the back of your head while the other tightly on your lower back.
“I deserve more Zion, but I don’t wanna pressure you dear, but I’m tired, I’m tired” you speak into his trashed denim jacket. You pull out of his embrace. Walking towards the door, leaving Zion in the room with his thoughts. Passing by nick and Brandon as you wiped your tears, hearing their cries of your names just makes you regret even coming to this party in the first place. The guy you danced with earlier snatches your wrist in a halt just as you were about to grab the door knob, this day just couldn’t get anymore hetic you thought.
“Babygirl.. did he make you cry?” His eyebrows knit up in a bunch, you stumble over the cups placed on the floor snatching your arms at of the young man’s grasp not before you feel an arm around your shoulder engulfing your body into his chest. “Don’t touch her got that? She doesn’t belong to you” he grits his teeth, spitting the poison out on him “oh but she belongs to you?” The guy questions trying to provoke a fight with Zion.
“She doesn’t belong to anyone she’s her own woman, but we are dating and I don’t appreciate anyone treating her less than what she is, so if you want all your bones to be intact and still have teeth to eat with tomorrow I suggest you back the fuck up” your eyes look up at the flushed pinked tint that was painted across his face the slight flinch of his muscles in his jawline.
“Can we leave please?” You plead to him and instantly he grabbed your hand taking you out the party. The ride home was slient. So many things were going on, bottled up emotions were spilled and you just thought to yourself how awkward this would be in the morning. Zion opens the door for you following right after you in the cold house. Taking off your boots you curl up on the bed shaking as the goosebumps multipled on your skin. Zion walks over to you throwing the covers over your body tucking you in like a parent to a kid.
“Can we talk about this?” Zion says breaking the ice, letting out a choked hoarse sigh
“I’m afraid too” you speak barely above a whisper hoping he didn’t catch it.
“Well then listen to me” Zion grabs your legs placing them on his thighs so his fingers hook under your calves “ I’ve never been this deep in love, everytime I get really deep into a relationship something always fucks it up, and I didn’t want anything or anyone to break us up hence why I’ve been hiding us. Specially from the media. It’s a dog eats dog world out there mamas” his fingers tapping on your now timid skin “and I don’t want you to be hurt because of my job, or those whom support and love me, their opinions won’t matter to me I don’t give a shit but I don’t want you hurt babygirl I love your smiles earlier in the morning,” Zion chokes up “ I wanna keep seeing the crinkle in your nose as you curse the sun for being bright, have you re-twisting my dreads, your sudden outbursts of Disney soundtracks”
“I cherish all that shit mamas” Zion finishes like a heavy weight was lifted off his shoulder.
Your eyes begin to soften at how raw Zion is being right now. Zion was never the type to show his cards on the table. Everyone knew this. But seeing him fold like a deck of cards really breaks your heart. “I love our date nights where we just watch movies or play board games, cause it’s just us and no one to interrupt us or tell us how to love each other, but it seems I’ve hurt you more this way instead of the other way I was trying to protect you from. I’m sorry mamas” his Cinderella glass slipper eyes lays upon yours, shattering you into pieces
You never thought how hard it’s been on him to hide all of this or his reasons. You lean over to him placing your head on his chest. Playing with his fingertips. “It’s okay Zion, I understand now, I’m sorry for blowing up on you” his lips pressed on your head while his fingers caressed your waist. Your eyes slowly getting heavier and heavier before you could even hear his response. You dozed off, all the tears and alcohol felt like a melatonin. Zion took this opportunity to sneak a picture of his view to post on Instagram for the world to see. Showing you off was something he always dreamed off and right now seemed like the perfect time. “No mamas I’m sorry, but I’ll show you better than I can say it”
The next morning you woke up to your phone constantly blowing up by notifications, frowning you grab your phone deciding to put it on do not disturb until you see prettymuch fan account names liking and commenting on your posts, taking you on stories, your twitter was blowing up. Opening up Instagram you see Zion has tagged you in a post, smiling at his efforts you like the picture.
130,468 likes
zionkuwonu: I'll never diss you and I'll kiss you on your little pearl.
Maybe the talk needed to happen to move onto bigger things, before you could repost it to your story, The door swings up with Zion smiling bigger than his heart holding a teddy bear in one hand and roses and a self care basket the other. Sitting up against the headboard you accept them feeling the water build up in your eyes. “You’re right mamas, you deserve more” he leans over laying soft pecks against your lips. “And I will always give you more” his lips connect to yours again.
“So face mask night and a movie?” You squeak caressing his jawline
“It’s whatever you want to do babygirl” he mumbles, before taking another picture of you with the gifts.
You were now his official girl.
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The Magenaza Epic: Solstice Rising
Serafa vs the Lilit Part Two
read Serafa vs the Lilit Part One here
Jesse runs. Blasted coward—though I really can’t blame him. The rumors about what a lilit can do to you with their teeth and talons alone are enough to make most folks quake beneath their sheets—their venom, deadly enough to take down a full-grown ox, is just honey on the cake. Venom that’s about to kill me, if I’m not careful.
I manage to get off two whole shots before the lilit gets to me. The first hits her in the shoulder, spurting black blood in the air like a dirty fountain. The second—damn, the second time I miss completely. The lilit knocks me into the dirt—BANG, the gun goes off a third time—nails jabbing into my skin, knees digging into my midriff. My shoulder takes the brunt of the fall, but I barely feel it as I twist my head to avoid the stab of the lilit’s fangs. The gun digs into the flesh of my midsection, trapped beneath both my and the lilit’s bodies. The scent of fresh blood and sickly-sweet venom sting my eyes and nose as she pins me down, her weight forcing all the air from my lungs.
I thrash like a fish on a hook, grit coating my mouth and bare skin, blood thundering in my veins, the lilit’s ravenous breaths filling my ears. Out of instinct more than anything else, I wrench my body around and smash my unhindered fist into the lilit’s temple. I bring up the gun as she lists, but I’m not fast enough. She grabs the gun before I can pull the trigger, cursing incessantly in her own language.
“No!” I jerk my knee into her midriff, but she doesn’t let go. Then scorching pain explodes in my wrist, a piercing, fiery blast of agony that shoots up my arm and erupts in my gut.
“Augh!” Abject panic gives me the strength to rip my wrist out of the lilit’s mouth. The revolver goes flying. The lilit screeches, her cry stabbing my ears like a corporeal thing. I scramble backward, panting, clutching my aching wrist to my chest. Utuma’s horns, my arm hurts.
But the lilit isn’t coming after me. She’s crouched on the ground right where I’d left her, hand covering her bloodstained mouth. Her red eyes flash with something I wouldn’t expect to see in a lilit: Curiosity.
“What are you?” she murmurs, bewilderment softening the hard edges of her voice.
“You ain’t the only she-devil in Areva.” I lunge for the gun.
“Abomination!” I barely register her cry before she tackles me. Her teeth sink into my neck, and for a moment, all I can manage is a strangled gasp. Then white hot pain claws it’s way up my throat and out my mouth in the form of a bloodcurdling scream. Pain seizes me like a living, moving thing, twisting down my throat and turning my stomach inside out. I twist my head and retch, bile burning the back of my throat.
“Get off!” I choke, bucking under the lilit’s weight. But my muscles have crumbled to sand and the lilit presses down on me, heavy as a behemoth. Then her weight is gone. I jerk, trying to sit up, but pressure biting into my neck slams me back down. Then the ground moves beneath me, an endless sea of dirt and stone and weeds poking me through my jacket, raking through my hair and creeping into my mouth. Dizziness spins the sky and ground so violently I'm reminded of the time I rode a wild bull on a dare.
You need to move! my brain orders. My limbs do not obey. They don’t respond even as the lilit heaves me over a pile of stones and into a cave. At first, the place is pitch black. Then my eyes adjust to the dim light of the cave—which, now that I can see, seems more like a glorified hole than anything else. I smell the putrid stench of rotten flesh and gag, cheek pressing against the cool, gritty floor.
I feel rather than see the lilit’s triumphant smile. She leans in close, her red eyes glowing in the low light. “You might be a she-devil,” she growls, nails digging into my back, “but I am a hulgal. Now lie still and die, just as your kind should have long ago. I have another mortal to catch.”
Then she’s gone.
I flip onto my back with a pained grunt, squinting up at the dappled cave ceiling. My head spins. Warm blood slips down my neck, tickling my skin, but I don’t have the energy to wipe it away. My skin feels heavy but my insides hollow, like the lilit sucked out my innards and left nothing but a brittle shell behind. Any moment I expect the ground to fall away and drop me into oblivion. Perhaps I’ll plummet all the way to Kurkita and meet the lilit’s kin. The idea of crashing into the realm of the hulgal makes me giggle, then groan as the movement tugs on my neck.
I vaguely recall Jael mentioning the time it takes for lilit venom to kill—is it sixty counts? A hundred? I can’t remember. My mind has slowed down to the speed of iced honey. But that doesn’t stop me from feeling the venom’s scorching sting burn its way through my muscles, setting my very bones ablaze.
Come on, Sera, I tell myself. You’re not gonna some let dirt-dwelling bloodsucker take you down, are you?
Maybe, I think in reply. I mean, Jael’s gonna kill me anyway for losing her gun—
The gun.
I never thought crawling could take so much effort. Every move I make seems as though it’s through a sea of hot sand. My wrist and neck shoots bolts of pain through my chest, stealing away my breath. Exhaustion tugs at every fiber of my being, begging me to lie down and rest, just for a moment. Shamyrin help me.
Then I hear her voice as clearly as though she were sitting next to me. The sound of it is the first rays of sunlight at dawn, soothing my wounds, breaking through my exhaustion, whisking away the haze settled over my mind. A blurred face hovers before me, so familiar I almost believe she’s here, crouching right in front of me. The ache contorting my heart has nothing to do with the lilit.
My little spitfire, we are creations of the almighty immortals. Divine power flows through our veins. Do not think there is anything you cannot do.
“All right, Mama,” I grind out, wiping sand and sweat from my brow. “I can do anything.”
I can do anything.
I'm not sure how, but I plow forward, one leg dragging after the other, my shaking, bloodstained hands pulling me forward finger by finger. Then the sun shines down on me once again, its glaring rays smothering, blinding. I blink rapidly to adjust my vision and glance up at the through narrowed eyes, fighting the urge to collapse under its oppressive heat.
Focus, Sera. You gotta stand up. Annoyance pricks me. This time, the voice in my head sounds a lot like Jael.
"Watch me,” I mutter. “I’m gonna do more than stand.”
Hands planted on the hard, rough ground. They’re splattered with black blood and dirt. What’s the difference between the two? I remember Jael asking. One supports life. The other takes it. One leg up. Pause to keep myself from vomiting. Then the other leg.
C’mon, Serafa! I’ve seen corpses with more life in them!
“Shut up!” I growl, and stumble to my feet.
Nausea wrenches my gut, and I lean over with a pathetic moan, head down, hands on my knees, waiting for the spell to pass. I’m up. I ain’t dead. Black spots dance in my eyes, but I blink them away, scanning the terrain for the telltale glint of a metal barrel.
A terrified scream pierces the cloud inhabiting my mind, granting me a brief moment of clarity.
Jesse. The lilit’s caught him already. I twist around, movements too sluggish and stagger over to a boulder and crouch behind it, waiting for the lilit to reappear. As I peer over the boulder, a flash of light catches my eye. The revolver. It lies at the edge of the canyon in which the lamb is still trapped, its barrel gleaming in the bright morning sun.
She emerges from a crevice on the other side of the basin, dragging a thrashing Jesse behind her. Black blood oozes down her side, courtesy of the bullet lodged there, but she seems alarmingly unfazed.
“Your friend surprised me,” she says. “I haven’t tasted blood like hers in many, many years.” Her shrill, raucous laugh makes my skin crawl. “Didn’t do much to save her though. Abominable blood won’t make her taste any less sweet to me.”
Jesse curses as his head bounces off another stack of rocks. “Let me go!” he begs, his voice cracking. “Please, I’ll--I’ll do anything!”
So she hasn’t bitten him yet. Maybe she used all her venom all on me. Either way, he’s going to be dead if I don’t make a move. She makes her way toward her cave, snarling under her breath.
The lilit and I both ignore him. I set my sights on the gun, shifting to allow myself a better vantage point. I reckon at least twenty paces lay between me and my target—will I make it before the lilit can get me? And if I do make it, will I trip and go flying into the canyon?
There’s only one way to find out. I have to move quick, before the lilit discovers I’m not in her cave.
“Abomination!”
Too late.
What happens next probably takes about five counts. But to me, it seems like an eternity.
I tear out from behind the boulder like my tail’s on fire and bolt hell-for-leather toward my salvation. The roar of blood and panic in my ears drowns out the lilit’s furious screech. She sees me. Primal energy stoked by terror and animal instinct surges through me like wildfire, driving me forward like a bullet from Jael’s gun. Run, run, run. The word thuds in rhythm with the pounding of my heart. I don’t dare look back, but I can feel her behind me, sprinting, gaining, looming. My entire being resonates with the anticipation of her claws ripping through my flesh. Shamyrin save me.
A desperate gasp bursts from my lips as I launch myself at the gun, its proximity to the gorge’s edge no longer a concern. My hand grips the handle. I turn, finger on the trigger.
"No!" That's the last word I get out before the lilit tackles me. A second before I fall, I catch a glimpse of her: Eyes narrowed, fangs bared, talons outstretched---a predator Mavet herself would be proud of.
Bang.
Her body crashes into mine. Frenzied hands clutch at me, but I don’t feel them. I'm weightless, falling, falling---
My heart leaps into my throat and I let out a stifled shriek as I tumble into the canyon, the lilit’s claws still embedded in my skin.
This is a day late and a dollar short, but it’s better late than never I guess. Feedback is always welcome!
@firewritten, @creativityflows, @eternalwritingstudent, @weaver-of-fantasies-and-fables
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✵ ― Hard Times
I literally was just trying to sleep because I have to function tomorrow and in the middle of my nap, I was awoken by the devil telling me to write this fic right away. And I sort of got carried away. Also shoutout to me. This is my first Eddie-centric fic. I love my dead gay son so much. i’m going to call out @rememberingtozier because look !! I wrote fluff, who knew I could ?!?!
Words ;; 1850 ・゚ Pairing ;; Richie Tozier / Eddie Kaspbrak ・゚ Warnings ;; FLUFF BOYS, Strong language, pot smoking mentioned, an overall gay vibe
❝ — Richie had been crashing at Eddie’s the past week or so. The two had yet to really touch on the fact that Wentworth and Maggie had yelled at Richie to leave and never come back . Eddie hated that he had to see Richie like this. So broken and defeated. He felt like he was unwanted, abandoned. He craved attention so much. It explained why he was the front runner for class clown five years in a row. But Eddie and the losers knew the truth behind all the ‘your mom’ jokes and dick puns. He was all but homeless as of a month ago and still made an effort to make his friends laugh. It was incredible. He was incredible.
Eddie shuffled in the bed, Richie snoring alongside him. He turned to face the window, sun rays cutting through the ivory, plastic blinds. Eddie watched Richie sleep for a few moments. Just taking in the view. Eddie had developed feelings for the trashmouth long ago. He rolled his eyes and got mad when Richie cracked jokes, but Eddie wouldn’t have it any other way. And spending the past seven days sharing a tiny twin bed with the boy only made his feelings grow.
When Richie dropped the bomb that he was not welcome back home, there was nothing but chaos. All the losers yelled over one another, shouting different forms of ‘what the fuck ?!’ at Richie. But he was calm. He waved at them, waiting for them to calm down. He didn’t seem phased. It was not like Richie to want to bother his friends. After the chaos settled, Richie explained himself (to a degree). Not fully explaining the logic behind their huge fight.
Stan took the first session. They were best friends after all. Eddie often thought about that. If Rich and Stan were the closest out of the losers, what did that make them ?? He liked to think him and the curly haired boy got along just a much as him and Stanley. But they always seemed to have these moments where neither of them could cross the line from friendship to something more. An invisible wall of awkward preventing them from making progress. What that progress entailed was still unknown to the two of them.
Richie stayed at Stan’s for about a month, all without papa Uris finding out. Andrea snuck extra food to Stan for Richie and it was going fine for a good amount of time. But the jewish holidays came up, and with family coming in and out, Richie had to move on. Eddie was next. Sonia would flip if a homeless kid was squatting in her home. It was for the best if they kept it all under wraps. Richie climbed through Eddie’s window each night and they stayed shacked up like they used to when they were kids. Eddie couldn’t wait for the rustling outside his window. He counted the minutes after school until he arrived.
Eddie’s alarm went off and Richie’s eyes shot open. Eddie quickly turned to smash the snooze button, so not to look like he was just watching his friend sleep for the past ten minutes. His heart was racing. These thoughts for Richie. Thoughts about snuggling him, holding his hand in public, kissing him were not new. But they were sixteen now and a little too old for crushes. What Eddie felt for Richie was far more than that.
“Five more minutes...” Richie moaned, taking the blanket and pulling it over his head.
“You need to shower before school, mister.” Eddie poked at the hump in the comforter, to which a hand came out and slapped away. Eddie just chuckled, grabbing Richie by the shoulders and shaking him. “Wake up, sleepy head !!” Richie moaned again and this one was so groggy and low, coming from the back of the boy’s throat. It made the hairs on the back of Eddie’s neck stand up. Fuck - it was beautiful sounding and it didn’t help that the noise was coming from a boy in Eddie’s bed. He regained his composure and pulled the covers back, revealing Richie’s speckled back. Since when did he sleep without his shirt on ?? Both tore off their pants before hopping into bed together - that was just normal, because honestly who sleeps with pants on ?? Eddie barely noticed it. He tells himself he barely notices. But the truth was two nights ago, their bare thighs collided in the middle of the night and Eddie nearly had an asthma attack. But this whole sleeping with no shirt on ?? This was very new. New and very alarming.
“Okay! Okay. Eds, I’m awake.” Richie murmured, head stuffed into the pillow. He turned his head to face the shorter boy, gripping the pillow under him, as he yawned. He curled his back up, a disgusting popping noise resonating from the stretch.
Eddie made a disgusted face - as if he wasn’t thinking that Richie’s bare back should be named the new eighth wonder of the world. Richie squinted, rubbing his face before yawning once more. “Ugh, what time is it ??” Richie couldn’t see a thing. Eddie’s room was just a blur of blues.
“Oh - um - seven something -” Eddie squeaked out, having a hard time speaking because Richie was now leaning over him, patting around the end table for his glasses. “You forgot about last night, didn’t you ??”
Richie was out with Bev last night. Eddie could practically smell the weed smell before Richie began giggling outside his window. He would be annoyed, if it weren’t for the fact that Richie was clearly going through a lot and Eddie didn’t want to judge him for coping the only way he knew how. When Ed propped open the window, a wasted Richie tumbled to the floor, a lens from his glasses popping right out and cracking. Richie was way too exhausted to do anything about it right there and then. He started to kick off his pants and buried himself under the covers saying something along the lines of ‘that’s an issue for tomorrow - Eds.’
Richie then picked up the broken frames and sighed, memories clearly re-filling his brain. “Right...Well fuck...” Now Richie was just hovering over Eddie without a care in the world. As if his bare chest wasn’t just there, right in Eddie’s face. It was marvelous in so many ways. The moles and beauty marks that scattered all over his torso, the slight scar he got from jumping off the monkey bars when they were twelve. Even the dumb stick and poke tattoo of the Pythagorean theorem he gave himself on his ribcage while stoned on his birthday four months back. All of it was glorious. Maybe he lingered too long, but could you blame him ?? This was the closest he’s ever been to a near naked Richie in so long. And for sure - not since he started seeing the male form in a - sexual - way. He was just in his boxers and casually sitting on top of him, fiddling with his broken glasses - as if he wasn’t destroying Eddie from the inside out. Then Richie put the glasses back on the end-table, making the effort to lean down again and on his way back up, Eddie and Richie were mere centimeters from kissing. A gasp left the anxiety-stricken boy. “Woah there - Eddie Spaghetti. That was a close one.” He laughed. “No need to stare - I know I can barely see, but I can practically feel you undressing me with your eyes.”
“You’re not wearing any clothes.” Eddie fought back, trying to get the blame off him. Because he was very much staring.
“Yeah. Well.... I was hot last night. Stripped my shirt off...No big deal...”
“You are hot.” Eddie said casually and then the words caught up and he let out a noise that only could be described as a yelp.
“What ?”
“What ?!” Eddie shadowed, much louder and high pitched.
Then there was this long pause between the two of them. Too long. It was really awkward, Richie couldn’t see Eddie’s panicked stare. He was kicking himself for speaking from his heart. He couldn’t help himself. He was falling for his best friend and you’d have to be as blind as the trashmouth to not see they had chemistry. The fact was the last few years, their friendship seemed to fizzle. Holding hands and pinching cheeks became awkward with age and the two’s puppy love had to be pushed aside. When they were alone, they let some things slip through the guarded cracks, but it still didn’t feel right. Both unsure of one another’s feelings - they were left at this stand-still of cautious touches and concealed feelings. But Eddie had enough. He couldn’t stand watching Richie in udder awe of his beauty and not being able to call him his own. So Eddie, for once in his life - wasn’t afraid. He lifted himself up and grabbed the boy’s cheeks laying a quick kiss to his lips. Richie’s instincts were to reach out and hold up Eddie, both pulling back a slight distance to marvel at each other.
“You really think I’m hot, Eds ??” Richie joked, but there was a slight lace of serenity there. He had this sweet smile on his features, like he was waiting for this moment as long as Eddie had been. So many people nowadays had been pushing away Richie. He was a burden - having to sneak into his friend’s houses for shelter. He felt like no one wanted him. But Eddie did. And that made the trashmouth feel genuinely happy. A feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. The truth was he was kicked out of his house over a fight about him coming out. He confined in his mother that he was falling in love with his best friend, Eddie. Thinking the drunk wouldn’t even notice what he was saying or remember. But instead Maggie told Wentworth and sparked an all out Tozier screaming match. A fight that ended in Richie being disowned.
“Maybe a little...” Richie was blushing now - Eds probably too. The two attempting to hide their faces. Not like Rich could see. But then Richie leaned back in, kissing Eddie once more. They deepened their embrace, Eddie reaching up to tangle his fingers in the boy’s beautiful curls.
The alarm blared again. Both boys jumping back to stare at the clock. If they didn’t get ready now, they would miss homeroom. Or at least Richie assumed, because he could in no way make out the numbers. A unison sigh fell from both their lips, when they concluded they would have to cut their moment short. The two both laughed, inaudible from the loud barring of the alarm. But in that moment Richie - leaning over to turn off the alarm, letting his lips collide with Eddie once more - never felt more at home.
notes: I guess I could write a part two if people wanted it ?? I’ve got some ideas ;)
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9.
Also on AO3
Chapters: 1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8 . 9 . (ongoing)
Reddie / Stenbrough
Word Count: 3603
Summary: Eddie Kaspbrak is set up on a date with a friend of a friend, and this Tozier guy is a hot mess. || Stan has feelings. Bill is confused.
Long and angsty and may or may not contain a roadtrip. AU - no IT. Characters are 17/18. Set in early nineties. More film based but contains elements from the miniseries and the book.
Content Warnings: strong language | underage drinking / drug use | smoking | mildly sexual implications (no smut) | internalised homophobia | era-typical homophobia | implied child abuse / neglect
Eddie Kaspbrak had made it one entire week without having a breakdown, and he was pretty damn proud of himself.
If he was honest he thought it would have been maybe three days tops before he came to his senses and made Richie take him back home, but it had been a week. Seven whole days of driving in that god awful hunk of metal, showering at truck stops, and eating gas station junk food. Richie had a duffel bag of clothes stuffed behind the back seat that they cycled through, all of Richie's clothes were a couple sizes too big on Eddie and very unlike his usual attire, all graphic t-shirts and denim jeans, but he found himself liking how he looked in them. (The underwear situation was... interesting, to say the least). Or maybe it was just how Richie looked at him when he put them on, he couldn't tell. Eddie would always fall asleep with the seat reclined to the static chords of the radio and Richie's voice and he would wake up to a bright sunrise and a hot cup of coffee (with milk and sugar, this time). He never saw Richie sleep, but he didn't think to ever question him about it. He didn't think to question him about a lot of things, like why he was living off a slowly depleting wad of cash in a plastic bag hidden in the glovebox, or if he actually knew where the hell they were at any point in time. He didn't think to ask about anything, because it had been the best week of his life.
Never in the seventeen years and ten months he had been alive had he felt so, well, alive. And maybe that was due to the adrenaline he got from doing something this rebellious, maybe it was the fact that his mother wasn't lecturing him about everything for once in his goddamn life, maybe his brain was going into overdrive from the nearly all-sugar diet he had been forced to switch to, and maybe it was simply the fresh country air in his lungs when the windows were rolled down, but god, he felt amazing. And Richie, wow, Richie.
Spending an entire week with someone you haven't known for very long, completely alone together, essentially trapped in a confined space, can really only go one of two ways. You will either start to despise them with every inch of your being, and the sound of their voice will irritate you to no end, and after it's over you won't be able to tolerate them ever again. Or, if it goes the other way, you'll start to fall in love with them.
And for Eddie, it was most definitely, unrelentingly, embarrassingly, the latter.
He kept catching himself staring, all starry-eyed and dreamy, at his dark-haired driver, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, taking in the boys features both sharp and subtle, entranced by the imperfections in his skin and the cracks in his lips and the curls in his hair (he felt strange when he concentrated on his hair too long, as if it was linked to a hazy drunken memory that he couldn't quite remember no matter how hard he tried), and everything he saw he became infatuated with. Richie's free hand would often end up resting on Eddie's thigh or intertwined with his own over the centre console, and he would melt under the contact every time. And they talked about everything, both understanding there wasn't many boundaries at this point, as far as conversation went. Eddie learnt that Richie had been in an amateur rock band in high school where he played guitar and sang, fittingly called Trashmouth, that he always got at least a minor role in the school plays, and that got mostly straight A's, though his ADHD and incessant need to run his mouth gave his teachers a run for their money, and that his parents were the absolute worst and didn't much care for him at all, so he up and ran away in the middle of the night leaving nothing more than a note on the fridge. In return, Eddie told Richie about his mother and her tendency to be extremely overbearing, though to be fair it had died down significantly in the last couple of years due to her discovery of the wonders sleeping pills can do, and how he used to play baseball with Bill, and his mild obsession- er, crush on Christian Slater, and how a girl in a pharmacy had once told him that his asthma medication was not exactly real.
“She was the pharmacist's daughter, and she said that it was all fake. A gazebo, I think she said.”
“Wait, what did she say?”
“I know, right! All fake. I didn't know whether to believe her or not because she was kind of a bitch, but-”
“Gazebo.”
“...That's what I said, yes.”
“Do you by any chance mean placebo, babe?”
“I- what?”
“Placebo, like fake medication that tricks your brain into thinking it's real. A gazebo's like a tent- podium kinda thing... Eds?”
“I've been lied to.”
And when they weren't talking, Richie was singing, and Eddie appreciated this very much. A particular song would come on and Richie would stop dead in the middle of a sentence to turn up the volume and belt out the lyrics. Sometimes Eddie would sing along, if he happened to know it, but most of the time he would just put his feet up on the dashboard and close his eyes, listening contently. His voice suited him well, a little raspy and rough but still smooth and steady, it sounded like heaven to Eddie. But then again, everything about Richie Tozier seemed like heaven to Eddie.
Richie Tozier had made it one week without having a breakdown, but he felt he wasn't going to last much longer.
It took everything in him to keep it together. The last thing he wanted to do was crack in front of Eddie, because geez, Eddie was something special, and he didn't want to mess this up.
He was so anxious that he had barely slept at all, only pulling over way past midnight when his eyelids felt like they were about to collapse, and then it would only be an hour or so before he woke up and started driving again, always before sunrise, always while Eddie was still asleep. He didn't want Eddie to know how little he was sleeping, worried it would cause him to panic and feel unsafe that he was being driven by someone so sleep-deprived, so he put an extra shot of espresso in his coffee and powered through. And when he felt like he was too on edge he sang to calm himself down, or he got Eddie talking and he listened to stories and anecdotes that he would recite about his friends during the years he had been gone. This helped to distract him temporarily from his intrusive thoughts but it didn't stop them, they were still there, mocking and so loud that sometime's he wanted to scream.
But he couldn't break down. Not while he wasn't alone.
Beverly's voice was a regular visitor amongst those thoughts, repeating her last words to him over and over again like a broken record, don't do anything stupid, no fucking excuses, don't fuck this up, i'll never forgive you for it.
The words, the pressure they put him under that left him feeling nauseous and dizzy, it was driving him crazy. Because he knew he was about to do something fucking stupid.
Eddie woke up in the early hours of the morning, the eight morning since he had left home, and instantly knew something was up.
They first thing he noticed were the streetlights, as he blinked his eyes open and allowed his vision to adjust. There hadn't been streetlights on the highway. He turned his head slightly, only seeing the rooftops from his half-laying position. He sat up slowly, stretching his arms out in front of him. Now he could see the houses under the roofs, most of them looking pretty run down and old fashioned, a paint chipping off wooden tilings and torn-up chain link fences kind of deal.
He adjusted his seat forward as he looked out the window, nose crinkled in confusion.
“Rich, why are we off the highway?” he yawned, finally looking over at the boy, who he noticed looked especially rough today though he didn't mention it.
“Well good morning to you too, babe,” Richie jeered, “and we're just making a short pit stop, then we'll get back to it.”
“Pit stop?” Eddie repeated, raising an eyebrow.
“Mhm. Just up here, actually.”
The truck slowed to a stop in front of a particularly run down house. Eddie could see beer bottles scattered across the lawn that was more weeds than grass and a torn up fly-screen door. Richie pulled on the handbrake and switched off the ignition.
“Richie, where are we?” Eddie asked cautiously, pretty sure he already knew the answer. Richie took a sharp intake of air and undid his seatbelt, avoiding Eddie's question as he reached for the door handle. Eddie grabbed his shirt sleeve.
“Rich, don't ignore me.” His voice was low and stern, and Richie slumped back against the seat, turning to face him.
“We're at my- we're at my parents house. I'm just- I gotta go get a few things,” Richie tried to make it sound casual but his his voice was unsteady and he could feel his hands start to shake. “Important things. Ten minutes, in and out. That's all.”
Eddie didn't release his grip from Richie's shoulder. Richie swallowed hard.
“I don't know if you should,” Eddie's eyes darted between Richie and the house, “It doesn't feel safe. What if your parents-”
“C'mon Eds,” Richie took Eddie's hand off his shoulder to hold in his own, “they're probably passed out, they might not even be home. Anyways, I'm used to sneaking around in there,” he laughed at the last part but he could see Eddie wince. He moved his free hand to Eddie's cheek and rubbed a circle with his thumb. “Just stay here. I'll be quick, okay?”
He opened the door and jumped out before Eddie could stop him and started down the driveway of the house.
“Fuck,” Eddie muttered, fumbling to get his seatbelt unclipped. He clambered out onto the pavement just as Richie stepped into the threshold.
The inside of the house was arguably in worse shape than the outside. The faded floral wallpaper was peeling in several places and chipped in many others. Every surface was disorganised and dusty, more empty bottles making up most of the clutter. The carpet was matted and covered in various sizes and colours of stains.
The television was on in the living room, emitting a dull, slightly static drone, and setting flickering shadows on the walls. Richie stepped towards the archway ever so slowly, his breathing so heavy he had to clasp a hand over his mouth. He poked his head around the wall, to see a figure sat up in the recliner, their head rolled back against the top of the chair, letting out a choked snore. He exhaled in relief and started to walk down the hallway when he felt a tap on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin.
“Richie, this is dumb, let's go,” Eddie hissed under his breath, and Richie spun around, hands clutched to his chest.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Eds, you gave me a heart attack,” he closed his eyes and tried to even out his breathing for a moment. “I told you to stay in the truck.”
Eddie's eyes flicked over to the armchair and his breath hitched in his throat. Richie watched the colour fade from his face and grabbed his shoulders.
“We shouldn't be doing this Rich,” he squeaked, instinctively grasping for his inhaler- which was still in the truck, “we really shouldn't be doing this.”
“He's asleep, he's asleep, he's not gonna wake up,” Richie's voice was hushed and pleading, moving one hand to Eddie's chin and forcing him to look at him, “Eddie, go back to the truck. Please.”
Eddie shook his head, feeling Richie's hand tremble against his skin. Richie exhaled sharply out of his nose and lead Eddie down the hallway.
The room was different to the rest of the house, in the sense that it actually felt inhabited. The walls were covered in band posters and movie posters of all sorts. The bed was pushed against the far wall, covers askew on the mattress. The wooden headboard had been carved into, presumably with a pocket knife, different names and initials and whatnot. There wasn't really much in the way of material possessions, spare an obviously well-loved acoustic guitar sat on a stand in a corner and a few photo frames and aerosol deodorant cans on the dresser. It was small and comfortable and it smelled like Richie, and Eddie found himself calming down.
Richie knelt down next to the bed and pulled out a small suitcase, sliding it towards Eddie and gesturing towards the dresser.
“Just chuck as much as you can fit in there,” he said, and Eddie did as he was told, unzipping the suitcase and pulling open the top drawer, fighting an urge to fold the clothes as he threw them in. Richie laid down on his stomach and tried reaching for something under the bed, stretching one arm out with a muffled groan. He retracted his arm in a huff when he couldn't reach whatever he was looking for and proceeded to manoeuvre the top half of his body under the bed frame. Eddie had nearly cleared the top drawer and had an arrangement of clothing in and around the suitcase (Richie obviously did not care for sorting his clothes and everything was just thrown in together), when his eyes caught something much more vibrant than what Eddie had expected. He held the shirt up in front of him by the collar, stifling a laugh. It was bright orange and patterned with yellow silhouetted palm trees. He spun around, holding the shirt against his chest. Richie emerged from under the bed with an 'aha!', clutching a shoebox. His hair was all dishevelled and the smile fell from his face when he saw Eddie.
“That's not mine,” he sputtered as Eddie bit back a smile.
“Sure it's not,” he teased, “should I pack it anyway? Are you planning on attending a luau in the near future?”
“Shut up,” Richie stood up from the floor and ripped the shirt from his hands, rubbing the fabric between his fingers for a moment before dropping it onto the pile of clothes that had accumulated on the floor. Eddie stepped over and picked up the shoebox that Richie had pulled out.
“I'll save you the shock, it's all weed.”
Eddie nearly snapped his neck when his head shot up, and Richie smirked as his face went white.
“Drugs,” he choked out, leaving his mouth hanging open.
“No babe, weeds from the garden. Yes it's drugs,” he walked over and took the box off Eddie, who snapped his mouth shut and pressed his lips into a line, “and cigarettes. And cash. Important shit.”
Eddie went back to the suitcase, shoving everything in and zipping it shut, but not without a struggle, and Richie grabbed his guitar by the neck and they both headed to leave. They quietly snuck back towards the front door, tiptoeing past the living room where the television was still humming away. They threw everything in the back seat and climbed into the front. Richie smacked his forehead with the palm of his hand.
“Shit, forgot something,” he mumbled, and hopped back out before Eddie could protest, “i'll be two seconds.” He disappeared back into the house, and Eddie sat nervously, fingertips fidgeting in his lap.
Richie crept back to his room and across to his dresser. There were three photo frames, two were of him, Bev, Bill, and Stan back when they were kids, and one of just him and Bev. He smiled to himself, fingers tracing over their faces, before he picked them up in a stack.
“You got a lot of nerve in you, boy.”
Richie felt his throat closed up instantly as he turned around. His father stood in the doorway, half-leaning against the wall, eyes glazed over and drunkenly heavy, his stare burning into Richie's skin. He was wearing jeans and a shirt that may have once been white but definitely wasn't anymore, and he was all skin and bones under his clothes. His face was hollow and sunken and creased, planted with a permanent sneer displaying crooked yellowing teeth, and his hair was dark and thin, what was still there, that is.
“Hiya Pops,” Richie forced a sickly grin, his voice course and uneven, “thought I'd drop back in to see ya.”
Wentworth Tozier took an unsteady step forward, raising one accusatory bony finger towards his son. Richie automatically shifted into a fighting stance, his hands hovering in front of him, prepared to make a move if he had to, and he could smell the rotten beer coming from the man's mouth even from across the room.
“I told you, if you leave, then you don't come back,” he slurred, his voice low and gravelly, and Richie thought he would prefer if he was shouting. Shouting was always just shouting. It was when his voice was lowered that led to-
“And now you come back, and you steal from me,” Richie felt himself shrinking with every word, despite being taller than his father, he felt like he was about to be crushed, “and you think I won't notice.”
He took another unbalanced step forward and Richie's eyes went to the doorway, mentally planning out his route so he could make a run for it. The stench intensified as the source drew closer, and he felt that he might start gagging.
“You know I'd love to stay, dad, but I should probably get going now,” he tried to joke but his mouth was uncomfortably dry and it came out as a ragged whisper.
“Don't be a fucking smartass, Rich,” he raised a calloused hand above his head and Richie flinched, lifting his arms up to cover his face, still clutching the photo frames so hard that they were making indents in his palms. Wentworth grinned and snickered. “Fucking coward. Always have been.”
Richie took the opportunity to escape, using all the strength he could to shove past, and bolted to the front door. He practically leapt off the porch, struggling to keep his footing, and stumbled hurriedly to the truck, not looking back until he had his hand on the driver side door handle. He expected his father to appear in the threshold, fuming and shooting daggers with his eyes.
But he didn't.
The house remained completely void of movement, and he stood, nearly panting, the lenses of his glasses fogging up due to tears he wasn't aware he was crying.
Eddie watched from the passenger seat, not knowing what to do, not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything at all. He chose to stay quiet.
Richie stared into the house, waiting, just waiting for something. He stood there, trembling but otherwise frozen, for what felt like hours.
Richie Tozier had made it one week without having a breakdown.
“FUCK YOU,” he shouted, his voice cracked and dry and strained and terrified, “FUCK. YOU.”
He collapsed on the pavement, his legs simply too weak to hold him up any longer. He dropped the frames on the ground and flung his glasses off his face, sobbing and wailing into his hands, pulling his hair as he did, hard enough to shoot pain all over his scalp. Eddie got out and rushed over to the sidewalk, and Richie grabbed onto his shirt as soon as he knelt down close enough, pulling him forward and burying his face in Eddie's chest. Eddie wrapped his arms tight around his shoulders, stroking Richie's hair, feeling the sobs wracking through his body, keeping his eyes glued on the doorway.
“I'm so fucking sorry,” Richie whimpered through a shuddered breath, “I shouldn't have brought you here, I shouldn't have- FUCK-I-
“Shh, you're okay, babe, it's okay,” tears were brimming in his own eyes and he felt utterly useless.
“I'm a fuckup,” Eddie can feel Richie's tears soaking through his shirt and onto his skin, “I'm so stupid, fuck. I'm so fucking sorry.”
Eddie didn't say anything, just pressed his face into the top of Richie's head and pulled him tighter.
Richie eventually released his death grip on Eddie's shirt collar, and picked himself up. Eddie went to get his glasses, which had landed about three feet away, and the photo frames, while Richie achingly dragged himself up into the drivers seat.
“Do you want me to drive for a while?” Eddie asked before he could close the door.
“You can drive?” Richie wiped his nose with his sleeve, eyes still red and puffy, “You've just been using me as a taxi service all this time, huh? Not cool babe,” he jokes, and flashes a crooked smile.
“Do you want me to or not?” Eddie laughs, and Richie nods before hopping out and moving to the passenger side.
Eddie had to readjust the seat and mirrors and it took a few tries before the engine started but soon they were on the road again.
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Flowers and Feelings
Prompt: I saw this headcanon on @lovethyfanperson ‘s page (created by @nosemeocurrenada77) and I thought it was too cute to pass up Original Post
Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen
Pairing: Connor Murphy X Reader
Summary: Senior year is really sinking in, and you don’t want to leave behind all that has grown to be familiar. Connor shares your sentiments and assuages your fears, but Evan doesn’t quite agree with his way of going about it.
Word Count: 1,778
Warnings: Language, slight talk of mental illness, fear of the future, nothing super major I don’t think
A/N: A big thank you to @nosemeocurrenada77 and @lovethyfanperson for allowing me to use this prompt. I hope I did okay since this is my first time writing anything for DEH and I still haven’t been able to read the book yet, so if anything is ooc I probably don’t know. And I kind of focused more on Connor and flowers than Evan but I think that’s also because I don’t think he’d want to be very confrontational idk (Also it’s not like I’m projecting on the reader or anything, so what if I’m a senior and slowly dying from the prospect of imminent adulthood? Nope totally not about me)
~~~
It had been another long week of hell, a.k.a. school, and you were ready to collapse from the amount of shit you still had to do. Why does getting into college have to be so hard? you thought, flipping through yet another SAT prep book. Your eyes weren’t even absorbing any of the words and your head was starting to hurt. I can’t believe I’m subjecting myself to this on a Saturday. Why can’t I just watch cartoons?
Your thoughts were interrupted by a text from Connor. You gave a tired smile before opening it to see he wanted you to meet him at the park. Gratefully accepting a break from killing your brain, you replied that you would be there in a few. Grabbing your keys and other necessities, you headed out the door.
When you got there you saw Connor spread out on the grass in his normal spot, looking at the clouds. You laid down next to him and you both sat quietly for a good while, just enjoying each others company and the nice autumn day. The leaves were starting to change color and the breeze was getting colder, but the change was that much heavier this year because of its finality.
Soon the year would be over, and then it was only a few months until the rest of your life. College, job, and whatever else the world had in store for you. It seemed that everything was riding on ending your high school career on a high note, and after years of monotone repetition, you were unsure if that was even possible.
You were dragged out of your thoughts by a hand in yours. Turning to look at Connor, you see that he was already studying you. You squeezed his hand and he squeezed back before refocusing on the clouds rolling by. A few more minutes of silence stretched between you two, with your hands still intertwined, before he raised his other hand to point out a cloud shape.
“That one looks like Mr. Montgomery.” He gestured towards what looked more like a hippo, making you laugh lightly. That teacher did usually act like one while trampling through the halls.
“More like Mr. Johnson,” you retorted thinking of the biology teacher who made it a habit to just sit at his desk and play videos as a way of teaching, reminding you of the lazy mammals. You could tell Connor was contemplating your observation before making a noise of agreement and then moving on to the next cloud. This continued for a while, until the sky was empty.
Connor sat up and looked down at you before squeezing your hand and getting up. You followed him over to a park bench in the shade where you sat and leaned against his chest, soon getting lost in thought again.
You felt him nudge you softly and looked up at him. His brow was furrowed and you could tell that he wanted you to say what was on your mind. You didn’t want to talk about it though, Connor was getting better and you would not have your negativity bring him down.
“It’s nothing,” you lied, with the attempt of a smile on your face. He just gave you a look that screamed If it’s nothing then I’m Jared Kleinman. You roll your eyes with a sigh before looking at your shoes.
You can feel Connor roll his eyes before grabbing your hand in his and rubbing his thumb on the back of it, something that’s become a thing between you two when either of you need to show support. Your lips perk at the soothing feeling of his motions, and you let out another sigh before turning to look at him.
You see the patience in his eyes, and turn to look back at the park before speaking.
“Everything feels like it’s ending.” You can feel him slightly tense up at your bluntness, but his hand is still there, keeping you weighted. “Senior year is already a month over, and that leaves so little time before the rest of the world crashes in. Yeah, we’ve all been wading into the world of adulthood with jobs and stuff, but that’s nothing compared to what’s out there. And then there’s college to think about and…” you trail off, getting lost in your thoughts again.
Connor squeezes your hand and you take a deep breath before continuing. “Nothing is permanent, but I really wish we could just stay here, trapped in a perfect moment forever. Everything seems to be going too fast, and I’m not ready for it. I don’t think I ever will be.”
You glance at Connor, kind of expecting him to go on his own talk about how the future is a daunting thing, but he sits in silence for a few minutes. You look back at the park and people watch, until he finally speaks.
“I understand why you feel that way. I kind of think everyone does senior year. But…” he stops, trying to get his thoughts together, “just because the future is uncertain and there’s all this stuff that feels like it could drown you, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try to swim. If you need help, there are life preservers and lifeguards and fucking floaties for god’s sake.”
He trails off, and you can tell that he’s trying hard to make sure that he’s delicate with his response while also saying what needs to be said. “I know that it seems like things might not work out, but that’s just the fear of the unknown creeping into your mind. And the whole point of having friends and stuff is so that you aren’t facing it alone,” he gives your hand another squeeze, “and I promise that I’ll be there for you, just as you’ve been there for me during the past few months.”
You look at him before leaning in and giving him a kiss, which he returns in earnest. You know that it’s still hard for him to fully verbalize how he’s feeling, but his words put your mind at ease, at least for now. And if what he said was true, which you really believed it was, he would be there to remind you when these thoughts ultimately returned.
After you broke away, he kissed your temple, and you sat there for a few more minutes in silence. Then Connor pulled you up and you began to walk one of the park’s many paths, kind of just wandering. Your hands were intertwined and every once in awhile he would bring your hand up to his mouth and give it a quick peck, drawing a smile to your face.
As you continued your walk, you became more and more relaxed. When you came upon a patch of flowers, you stopped to admire them. Following that old saying, you smelled them and were about to continue on your walk when Connor picked one and put it in your hair. Your cheeks warmed and Connor smiled at the sight.
The next thing you know, he dropped your hand before going back to picking flowers, this time trying to wrap the stems into a sort of circle. You stand and watch him for a good ten minutes, just admiring the way he’s putting such effort into whatever he was doing.
Finally he was finished and he turned to you before placing it on your head. You look up as it slightly falls over your eyes and move to adjust it, but Connor does it instead, incredibly gently so that it stays together.
“How do I look?” you ask, striking a silly pose. You hear a camera shutter and see Connor’s phone pointed towards you. He shows you the photo and you admit that you look good in your custom made flower crown. You lean in and kiss his cheek and you hear the shutter again. You roll your eyes, but smile at his antics. Seeing the photo of you kissing him and his big smile just makes you happier than you could describe.
Then you’re walking along the path, hands linked once again. You feel like the weight on your shoulders is just a little bit lighter, and give Connor’s hand a squeeze. He looks at you and you just smile at each other, happy that you’re together.
When you come around the next bend, you bump into Evan and you greet him, but you can tell he’s a little preoccupied by something. Then you see him staring at your head. “Admiring Connor’s handiwork, are you? I’m sure if you asked nicely he’d make one for you too, Hansen,” you tease him slightly.
You see his cheeks turn slightly red before he stutters out, “Where did you find the flowers?”
“Somewhere off the path back there,” Connor answered, gesturing behind you. You could see Evan try to peer around you to see if he could see the flower bed, but he turned his attention back to Connor when he couldn’t see it.
“Y-you shouldn’t just go and p-pick flowers, it can damage the plant,” Evan said, sounding almost stern. You share a look with Connor before carefully pulling one of the flowers out of your flower crown and handing it to Evan with a small smile.
“Flowers are to be admired Evan, but we promise not to disturb the nature of the park in the future, okay?”
He takes the flower from you, returning your light smile, and you pat his shoulder before pulling on Connor’s hand and continuing your walk. Throwing a quick, “See you later Evan,” over your shoulder.
Your walk lasts another hour or so, with a little bit of random conversation interspersed throughout. You pass by Evan again, and see him tending to some of the plants, pulling weeds and such. You give him a small wave and he waves back before going back to looking after the nature of the park. You know that he’ll make a good park ranger or botanist if he chose to become one.
Soon enough you and Connor had looped back around to the parking lot and you were saying your goodbyes. And as you drove home, now thinking about the things you still had to get done once more, you felt more calm.
Connor had become your rock over the course of your relationship, and you his. The future still wasn’t spelled out in black and white, and you sure as hell weren’t prepared for everything, but that wasn’t going to stop it from coming, or stop you from facing it with your handsome support system at your side.
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Skinny Love; ch 1
Fandom: Skam
Pairing: Chris x Eva
Word count: 1.3k
Summary: He crawled under her skin and she couldn’t shake him - but maybe it was for a reason and she wasn’t supposed to.
Chris’s hands were all over her body – curious fingers tracing over her waist and hips. The air was filled with the smell of alcohol, cigarettes and weed; Eva felt as if the music was playing inside of her – the beat pulsing as her heart. They have been dancing for what it seemed to be hours, and every second they inched closer to each other; you couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. Teeth were grazing her neck and she felt soft lips plant sloppy kisses along her jawline as she rested her head back to his shoulder. Chris suddenly spun her around and they were face to face. She looked into the chocolate brown eyes and thought that the world could end right there and she would be happy with the sight she got in her last minute; she saw him leaning and closed her eyes. Their lips were touching only the slightest, as Eva tried to plant a kiss on his lips there was a loud thump.
“Fuck” she found herself on the floor next to her bed. This has been the third time in a week she dreamed of Chris, and it was only Thursday. Ever since they kissed at the Halloween party she couldn’t get him out of her head, despite being with Jonas during the time. She knew how bad this sounded, that is why she didn’t tell about it to any of the girls, not even Noora. She was afraid to admit even to herself that she might have feelings for him. He was nice to her sure for a few minutes, sure, and kissing him felt like taking a drug that made her high, happy and full of lust. But then it was all gone in a second when he remembered that she had a boyfriend and it turned out that he had a girlfriend as well – not as if he cared about any of those two things, but she did.
She cared and she stills cares and his occasional messages on Instagram and winking at her in the courtyard of Nissen when William kissed Noora goodbye just made it worse. Eva knew Chris wasn’t the type to date; hell, he wouldn’t even hook up with the same girl twice; but she still couldn’t shake him off of her – he crawled under her skin and placed himself into all of her thoughts.
She shook her head and got up; she had to start getting ready if she didn’t want to be late for Spanish. They were writing a test today and her only hope was that she could peek a few of Noora’s answers so she could get a D. As she was pouring some milk over her cereal, her phone vibrated and disturbed her thoughts.
“Not gonna make it today. Good luck at Spanish x”
So her chance of not failing this test went from 60% to zero real quick. Eva actually considered telling Noora about her dream and all the things (she refuses to call them feelings) about Chris; but now that her chance was gone she decided to keep it a secret just a little longer.
On her way to school she plugged her earphones in, but only one of them; living in a nice area didn’t mean that there was no danger on the street, especially for a young girl. She heard a car’s horn from behind her, but she ignored it; she didn’t even turn around. However, the car was now next her and and it was moving the same speed as her; she couldn’t ignore it anymore, so she turned to face it and was already planning the way she’s going to tell the idiot to fuck off.
“Need a ride, stalker?” Chris was already leaning over the passenger seat to open the door for her while she just stood there dumbstruck. She blinked a few and started contemplating whether this was real life or not. Maybe she didn’t even wake up indeed and this was the continuation of her dream – she should probably pinch herself or start counting her fingers.
“Eva? Are you gonna get in the car or will you just stand there?” He was laughing. Eva quickly shook her head as if coming out of a trance and climbed into the car.
“Hi” she looked at Chris shyly “Thanks for picking me up” he winked at her and she felt her legs tremble and thought that she might melt into the seat.
“How come you are not going with William? I thought you always rode together” And what are you doing in this neighbourhood? She didn’t ask her last question although curiosity was killing her already; she knew that he wasn’t living in this part of the city, and this was a long bypass for him to get to school. She dreaded to think that he came from a girl; no, that’s not possible; he hooked up at parties and had sex with girls who were willing to; but he never spent the night.
“William’s taking care of Noora today” he looks at her without his usual smirk and it actually feels refreshing for Eva; just the two of them talking like normal people. She starts to imagine what it would be like – Chris picking her up every morning, going to school together, spending every minute together. “Are you okay? You seem really unfocused today” how does he notice? A swirl of thoughts starts in her head; he must have observed her multiple times if he’s able to spot when she is distracted; but she doesn’t want to seem stupid by not answering, so she decides to stop pondering and answer him.
“I just didn’t sleep very well” that’s a lie; every time she dreamed of Chris she was confused as ever, but she was also very well-rested. “and we have a test in Spanish today and I was planning on copying Noora’s answers but now that she is not coming there is no way I can pass” now she was just rambling and she decided to stop before it escalated and she made a complete fool out of herself.
“You don’t like Spanish?” he asked and he actually looked interested in her answer.
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It’s just … foreign languages aren’t really my strong spot” She didn’t want to seem dumb; she was trying really hard lately, but she couldn’t twist her brain into understanding the different tenses and moods. “I can speak English, but that’s only because I lived with my dad in Manchester for a year when I was little.”
“That’s pretty cool” he flashed her a half-smile, while chewing on his gum, and Eva was genuinely curious how the Penetrator guys always had gum when she couldn’t keep a pack for one full day. They spent the rest of the ride listening to music, and by the time they arrived at the school, she actually felt comfortable around Chris and not one bit awkward.
“So there’s this party tomorrow night at Alex’s house” he looked at her as they walked into the schoolyard from the parking lot “You should come” he showed his famous smirk.
“Sure, I’ll talk to the girls about it” Eva already started slightly panicking in her mind what would happen if she had too much to drink; she hasn’t gone to a Penetrator party since the Halloween incident.
“See you tomorrow, stalker” Chris winked at her as she made her way to Vilde and Sana, who were standing by the benches in front of the school and he continued his way to the entrance door. There he was again – the player. But for some reason Eva felt that during their ride, she didn’t see Chris, the fuckboy; she saw the person underneath the façade. It gave her hope, that he might not be so bad after all, and maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t get hurt all over again.
Author’s note: So this is my first fanfic ever, and English is not my native language so forgive me for any mistakes. I plan on continuing this fic, any feedback is appreciated. i’m contemplating whether to put this on ao3 or not so i’ll gladly take any advice x
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