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old-childhood-drama · 3 years

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Taylor Swift and Joe Jonas Masterpost (Toe/Jaylor)

Before dating (May 2008)

We start with the Taylor lookalike

In May 2008 the Jonas Brothers are filming their music video for Burnin’ Up [x]. Joe’s love interest in it is played by a blonde girl who looks quite a bit (and she’s also styled) like Taylor Swift, for reference, this is the music video that has Selena Gomez as Nick Jonas’ love interest.

As far as we know they hadn’t even met so we don’t know exactly what this was supposed to mean, maybe Joe had a crush on Taylor or maybe it’s a coincidence.

We do know that Nick and Selena were dating when this was filmed and that by the time the MV was released (July 4th, 2008) Joe and Taylor were officially dating.

Toe is alive! (July 2008 – September 2008)

On Tour

Fans claim to have seen Taylor around the tour in early July, which matches with Taylor’s lyrics in "Last Kiss".

Last Kiss. Taylor Swift.

I do recall now the smell of the rain

Fresh on the pavement, I ran off the plane

That July 9th, the beat of your heart

It jumps through your shirt

On July 14th, Taylor and The Jonas Brothers perform “Should’ve Said No”[x] from her debut album, and this performance now forever exists in their 3D movie (a classic), a cute fact is that some fans have said that Taylor tripped when she first came out, so they had to repeat it for the movie.

On July 20th Joe flies to Wyoming to watch Taylor opening up for Rascal Flatts, and they flew back and she was spotted at the Omaha show.

She’s seen in a couple shows more and she joins the stage again for their Madison Square Garden shows in August [x]. They sing “Even now just looking at you feels wrong”.

They’re together but they’re not together.

For more context, we must remember that Taylor was a very new artist from a small label and The Jonas were pretty much at their peak and Disney’s biggest act, and they were managed like crazy and could never even think about being seen with someone in a romantic way. Any rumors were denied so fast, and Disney did the absolute most to keep it secret. So according to everyone they were just good friends, at the time both Taylor and Selena were annoyed by all the secrecy.

Now back to the timeline:

Taylor is backstage of the tour A LOT for the next couple of weeks right next to the other not-girlfriends Selena and Danielle.

She films a cameo for the “Love Is on Its Way” [x] video for the concert in New York. She was said to be only interested in hanging out with Joe and they were seen hugging *gasp* I know it doesn’t seem like much now but back then this was the hottest gossip and again the Jonas were not supposed to breathe near any human of the opposite gender.

Taylor and the Jonas were staying at the same hotel a bunch of rumors ensued, but I will not talk about the whole Olympics and Toe locking themselves in a room at midnight thing. If it’s real, we really needed to touch some grass and stop staying outside of people's rooms all night.

On August 17th Joe goes to Ryan Seacrest's show and denied that Taylor is his girlfriend in the best way a corporation like Disney can train you to deny something that’s true. Saying Taylor is “a great girl and I think anybody would be lucky to date her. I think anybody would love to go on a date with her.”

And Taylor tells People Magazine “He’s an amazing guy and anybody would be lucky to be dating him” Cinematic parallels.

Taylor is spotted in the back (in a mirror) of one of the Jonas youtube videos [x]. Basically, we all knew they were together.

The Central Park date (August 28th)

Now if you were a fan of either the Jonas Brothers, Selena, or Taylor you know this next part and it the iconic triple date of Central Park.

Again, this is kind of famous at this point and Selena has been quoted saying how awful it was because the boys were not allowed to be seen with them so they all went to Central Park (Selena’s first time in Central Park) and Taylor and Selena walked about 20 feet of distance from the guys so nobody would think they were together but we all already knew because it wasn’t like they were that good at hiding it and there are pictures of them together that night (the clownery of it all).

These backstage tour adventures are the reason Taylor and Selena are friends today and in Selena’s own words the best thing to come out of those relationships.

VMAs (September 2008)

With how many pictures of them together that night [x] [x] [x] exist you would think they had gone together as a couple but no just two besties! The 2008 VMAs are so the show where Russell Brand mocks the Jonas Brothers and their purity rings and Taylor publicly defends them.

Toe seems happy for the rest of September but as we know now the end is near.

The Break-Up (October 2008)

Social Media was different back then and Taylor did what every teen girl with a broken heart did in 2008 and she went to myspace with an edited post to make a statement about the Toe current situation.

Post-Breakup

The 27 seconds Joe Jonas will regret for the rest of his life.

Taylor went on Ellen and I don’t even think I need to say much this interview is THAT iconic she sat on that couch and told the world exactly how Joe had broken her heart in the following two quotes:

“There’s one that’s about that guy, but…that guy’s not in my life anymore unfortunately. That guy…that’s an ouch.”

“I’m not even gonna be able to remember the boy who broke up with me over the phone in 25 seconds when I was 18…it was like 27 seconds, that’s got to be a record.” [x]

She also went on Ryan Seacrest’s and when asked about the perfect guy she saw an opportunity and took it, saying “I used to always say sense of humor, but I think that it’s important to have the same kind of sense of humor. I have a really dry, sarcastic sense of humor and if somebody doesn’t think that my sense of humor is funny, then that’s not something that is good. Um, so sometimes you know, that can be a wrong match. If they’re not allowed to go in public with me, that’s sort of an issue too.” [x]

Bonus the amazing youtube video Taylor posted with Joe’s Camp Rock doll and how he comes with his own phone to break up with other dolls [x]. Taylor eventually went full out and cited Camilla Belle (then girlfriend of Joe) as the reason for the breakup. And you know someone at Disney’s PR office wanted to die when this was going down.

So finally, Joe was forced to acknowledge the whole situation with a Myspace post:

"I never cheated on a girlfriend. It might make someone feel better to assume or imply I have been unfaithful, but it is simply not true. Maybe there were reasons for a breakup. Maybe the heart moved on. Perhaps feelings changed. I am truly saddened that anything would potentially cause you to think less of me. For those who have expressed concern over the "27 second” phone call. I called to discuss feelings with the other person. Those feelings were obviously not well received. I did not end the conversation. Someone else did. Phone calls can only last as long as the person on the other end of the line is willing to talk. “

Forever & Always

Now this song is known as THE Toe song and it was born out of the end of the relationship when she felt Joe was getting distant, but she couldn’t do anything to help it, it was made really late into the production of Fearless so she had to rush to finish it in time (so no other breakup songs are about Joe in the original album).

Forever & Always Was I out of line? Did I say something way too honest, made you run and hide Like a scared little boy I looked into your eyes Thought I knew you for a minute, now I’m not so sure

In the 2009 Grammy's Taylor and Miley (insert The Ex-Girlfriends Club Theory here) performed Fifteen (obviously not about Joe) and the Jonas were in the audience. I believe this is probably around the time Taylor writes Mr. Perfectly Fine and You All Over Me, which we know get to have thanks to Fearless (Taylor’s Version) 13 years later.

You All Over Me

The best and worst day of June

Was the one that I met you

With your hands in your pockets

And your 'don't you wish you had me' grin

But I did, so I smiled, and I melted like a child

Now every breath of air I breathe reminds me of then

Mr. Perfectly Fine

'Cause I hear he's got his arm 'round a brand-new girl

I've been pickin' up my heart, he's been pickin' up her

And I never got past what you put me through

But it's wonderful to see that it never phased you

In November of 2009, she also goes to SNL and mocks Joe in her monologue. "You might think I'd bring up Joe That guy who broke up with me on the phone But I'm not gonna mention him *rolls eyes* In my monologue [Spoken:]Hey Joe, I'm doing real well, tonight I'm hosting SNL [Sings:]But I'm not gonna brag about that In my monologue [x]"

To make things even more dramatic and very awkward The Jonas Brothers, Demi Lovato, and Taylor Swift spent NYE together watching the ball drop on TV and this was probably not how they wanted to start their years. [x] [x] [x] and a video [x]

Now let’s discussed some of the songs that came out at the time. The Jonas response to Forever & Always was Much Better. Nick described it as a song that was very personal to Joe and Joe went on to say that it was based on his very interesting year. They also at some point wanted to pretend the song was about their love for their fans but come on. Joe also changed the lyrics from ‘superstar’ to ‘country star’ and later changed it to ‘movie stars’ when he broke up with Camilla who is the ‘Much Better’ girl from the song.

Much Better - Jonas Brothers

I get a rep for breakin’ hearts

Now I’m done with superstars

And all the tears on her guitar

I’m not bitter

But now I see

Everything I’d ever need

Is the girl in front of me

She’s much better

Taylor’s iconic response in Better Than Revenge seems to be more of an attack on Camilla. She’s spoken about her regret for this song since then and hasn’t played it in years and Camilla seems to be ok we never forgiving her for it [x] [x]. Regardless this song remains a staple of the genre ‘Feminism OFF, Bops ON’.

“I was 18 when I wrote [“Better Than Revenge.”] That’s the age you are when you think someone can actually take your boyfriend. Then you grow up and realize no one can take someone from you if they don’t want to leave”. - Taylor 2014.

Better Than Revenge - Taylor Swift

Let's hear the applause (Come on, come on)

Come on, show me how much better you are

(So much better, yeah?)

See you deserve some applause

'Cause you're so much better

She also released "Last Kiss" about the nicer part of their relationship, and some believe other songs such as If This Was a Movie, Haunted (Speak Now) and Jump Then Fall (Fearless) are about Joe. From the Jonas, the other song believed to be about Taylor is Paranoid (Lines, Vines and Trying Times).

Jump Then Fall

Well, I like the way your hair falls in your face

You got the keys to me

I love each freckle on your face, oh

I've never been so wrapped up, honey

Probably a song was written about and in the early days of their romance and the long hair freckles [x] thing definitely fits 2008 Joe.

If This Was a Movie

Baby, what about the ending?

Oh, I thought you'd be here by now

Thought you'd be here by now

According to some this song is a sister song to "Last Kiss" in the same album and that is confirmed to be about Joe.

Haunted

Come on, come on, don't leave me like this

I thought I had you figured out

Something's gone terribly wrong

Won't finish what you started

This song would be a sister to Forever & Always since Taylor described both to be about a relationship that was fading in the end and that she was confused as to how they got there in the first place.

"‘Haunted’ is about the moment that you realize the person you’re in love with is drifting and fading fast. And you don’t know what to do, but in that period of time, in that phase of love, where it’s fading out, time moves so slowly. Everything hinges on what that last text message said, and you’re realizing that he’s kind of falling out of love. That’s a really heartbreaking and tragic thing to go through because the whole time you’re trying to tell yourself it’s not happening. I went through this, and I ended up waking up in the middle of the night writing this song about it.” Taylor

Friendlier days are coming (2010- )

I guess time can heal a lot of wounds and Toe is seen hugging and on friendly terms at the Clive Davis party on January 31st of 2010 [x].

The world was so shocked when we realized that Joe went to see her perform in a couple of her shows in September 2011 [x] [x], and in here Holy Ground is born about her new evaluation of their former relationship rather than the bitterness of the breakup. The lyrics' secret message is “when you came to the show in SD” and the potential parallel to "Last Kiss".

Holy Ground - Taylor Swift

We blocked the noise with the sound of ‘I need you’

And for the first time I had something to lose

And I guess we fell apart in the usual way

And the story’s got dust on every page

But sometimes I wonder how you think about it now

And I see your face in every crowd…

… Tonight, I'm gonna dance

For all that we've been through

But I don't wanna dance

If I'm not dancing with you

Last Kiss - Taylor Swift

I do remember the swing of your step

The life of the party, you’re showing off again

And I roll my eyes and then

You pull me in

I’m not much for dancing

But for you I did

They're seen talking in the MTV's EMA's 2012 [x].

From here they seem to be friendly and in May of 2015 after the Billboards. They even go on a double date later that year with Gigi Hadid, Calvin Harris, and Karlie Kloss (this picture feels so cursed). Nick and Joe get invited to Taylor’s 4th of July party and they seem somewhat distant after his split from Gigi.

Present (2020- )

In 2020, we got the amazing surprise of folklore with the song ‘Invisible String’ that makes a reference to Taylor’s past songs about exes being harsh and how she sent Joe and his wife Sophie Turner a present for their baby girl’s birth. In 2021, she has now released the re-recordings of Fearless and we are all reliving the drama and enjoying the chaos of Taylor’s and Sophie’s friendship not letting Joe know peace for those 27 seconds over a decade ago.

Invisible String

Cold was the steel of my axe to grind

For the boys who broke my heart

Now I send their babies presents

#Taylor Swift #fearless #fearless (taylor's version)#forever & always #mr perfectly fine #you all over me #last kiss #toe #jaylor #joe jonas #jonas brothers #folklore #invisible string #paranoid #much better #lines #vines and trying times #better than revenge

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pretchatta · 3 years

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swoon june day 15: masquerade

this wasn't supposed to be one of the mature ones but I think it's ended up being too suggestive to call it teen. oops.

rating: mature; kanan jarrus/hera syndulla; 2.1k words

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For most beings, traveling inconspicuously meant wearing more clothes. A cloak, a hood or a full-face helmet made for a great disguise and could hide a person such that a casual observer wouldn’t look twice.

For Hera Syndulla, the opposite was true.

A twi'lek pilot was a rare sight in the galaxy. While her usual clothes blended in with most of the places she visited, there were always a few double-takes when people noticed her lekku. No-one expected to see a twi’lek in overalls and flying goggles, especially not a woman.

The result was that, for Hera, the easiest way to avoid attention was to remove clothes.

She would swap her cap and goggles for wrapping her lekku, wear something skimpy and revealing, and smear a bit of makeup over her cheeks. It was perfect – everyone looked right past her.

She hated it.

Her chosen aesthetic for today's recon was bar-dancer-on-a-break. Her skintight bodysuit felt like it was more negative space than material, with its low-cut neckline and several geometric shapes cut out of the sides and legs. The evening air was balmy enough that she didn’t need a jacket, and she felt very exposed. The chunky necklace she had accessorised with felt more like a slave collar than jewellery, and she shuddered as she wondered if that was why the look was so popular.

Hera resented the reason why an outfit like this worked so well. Her people had become almost synonymous with slavery, despite their numerous achievements as individuals and as a species. And yet here she was, donning the stereotype like a costume, reinforcing it to anyone who saw her. She just wanted to finish her recon, get back to the Ghost and take the whole lot off. In a normal way, not putting on a show for anyone.

Well, maybe she'd let Kanan watch. He was the only being in the galaxy she trusted to still see her as a real person afterwards. He would also never ask for it. If she ever did something like that for him, it would be because she wanted to do it, and because she knew he would take only what she was willing to give; he wouldn’t ask for more. A year of being more-than-crew had shown her just how selfless a lover he could be.

She shook her head to clear the train of thought as she approached the spaceport. It only took a few moments for her to realise she'd need to use the other advantage the outfit offered to get inside, for the place was crawling with stormtroopers. There had been a few on the main gate when she and Kanan had left earlier that day, but now she could see them patrolling the perimeter in pairs as well as actively checking the IDs of everyone trying to get in.

Hera sighed. She wanted to believe it had nothing to do with Kanan, but her hopes were not high. He was always finding trouble. Still, if she could get back to the Ghost then even if he wasn't able to meet her she could always fly out to his position and save him from whatever hairy situation he would undoubtedly be in.

She made her way around to one of the lesser-used entrances she'd been scouting on her recon, hoping for an easier way inside, but found it also guarded. The surrounding street was empty, however, and she could work with that.

Hera adjusted her well-padded cleavage in preparation for what she was about to do. Taking a deep breath, she fortified herself by squeezing one breast. The hard press of the small blaster tucked amongst the padding – the real reason she’d sewn extra into the bodysuit – reassured her that at least she wasn’t going in unarmed.

The two troopers standing guard noticed her as soon as she stepped into the road. Exaggerating the sway of her hips as she walked, she drew her lekku over her shoulders to twirl the end of one between her fingers. The troopers watched her approach.

"It is okay to go into the spaceport?" she asked with wide, innocent eyes. Her old Ryl accent came back to her easily, adding to the charade.

"We have to check your ID before you can go in," said the shorter trooper. He stood perfectly straight, holding his blaster a little higher than his fellow guard, who was leaning against the wall somewhat more casually. Hera guessed the one speaking to her was newer to the ranks of the Imperial army, and she hoped he wasn’t still sticking to the regulations so diligently that he would prevent her from doing what she needed to do.

"Oh… I have left my ID at home today,” she pouted, tilting her chin up and subtly pushing her chest forward. “I only want to visit my sister who runs that little food stand just inside for lunch. I won't be going anywhere – I have only ten minutes left of my break.”

The trooper was shaking his head. “We can’t let you in without ID.”

It would’ve been nice if that alone could have worked, but she hadn’t expected it to. She took a half-step closer to him and lowered her voice to a sultry purr.

“There is no way I could persuade you?”

He shifted nervously. “W-what do you mean?” he asked, glancing at his companion. “Like, credits?”

Another half-step closer, and she managed to tilt her head so that she could look up at his visor through her false eyelashes, even though they were a similar height.

“I don’t have any credits, but I’m sure there is something I can do for you,” she murmured. She was exaggerating the accent, rolling each resh and turning every thesh into a senth.

“Uhh… You – you mean…” he stammered. Hera heard a soft snigger from the other guard. Hopefully he would find this amusing enough to let her drag the rookie around the corner. She only needed to separate them; the rest was easy from there.

She cut him off by pointing down the road. “There’s an alley where I can show you what I mean. I think it even has a clean patch of ground that will not get my knees dirty.”

“Your – your knees–”

"Tell you what, kid,” the taller one said, finally pushing himself upright from the wall. “You watch the door and I'll sort out her payment."

That worked too. It didn’t matter which one went with her; stormtroopers were easy to take down individually when they weren’t expecting an attack.

They left the bewildered rookie to his post as Hera led the more seasoned soldier to the alley she’d pointed to. As they rounded the corner and out of sight of the door, she tossed one lek over her shoulder and turned to face him, breathing in deeply so that her chest rose noticeably. Now she knew where his attention would be focused.

Her fist swung up in a quick jab to his neck. She was aiming for the gap between his helmet and shoulder armour, where a hard enough blow should incapacitate him for at least a few seconds. Her other hand went for his blaster to disarm him.

But he was faster than she anticipated. Much faster; it was almost like he was ready for her. One gloved hand caught her fist, stopping it in its tracks, while the other dropped the blaster to the ground completely. Hera immediately twisted out of his grip and pulled out her own gun. She’d hoped to do this quietly, but making a scene was better than getting arrested.

The trooper quickly stepped back and pulled his helmet off.

“Woah, stop, it’s me!”

Hera was momentarily dumbfounded.

“Kanan?”

“Yes! Could you maybe put that down?” He indicated to her blaster, which was still pointed at his head. She dropped her arm to her side.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, dropping her accent to speak like her usual self again.

Kanan looked sheepish. "Well, I was hoping for a-"

"I mean in stormtrooper armour, guarding the spaceport!” she interrupted. “And do you really think I was going to go through with that? I didn’t even know it was you under there!"

“I thought you’d recognise my voice!” he protested.

She looked at him incredulously. “Not coming from under a bucket! And not when I wasn’t expecting it!”

"Okay, yeah, I realise I maybe didn’t think that one through,” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck. “But when I heard they’d increased security I was worried about you, so I was keeping an eye out to make sure you could get back to the Ghost. I thought you'd try one of the side entrances and this was the closest one to where you were going to finish your recon."

She opened her mouth to berate him again but realised it was actually a pretty good plan. Not to mention sweet – it couldn’t have been easy to take that guard’s place. He was lucky to have found one with a rookie for a partner. Maybe he hadn’t caused whatever it was that had got the Imperials worked up, either.

“Alright, your thoughtfulness has redeemed you.” She tucked her blaster back into its hiding place, noticing how his eyes followed her hands for a few moments before snapping back to her face when she continued. “Let’s get out of here.”

"You sure you want to go right now? We’re probably not expected back out there for a while yet..."

She could tell he was at least half-joking.

"Really?” She gave him a raised eyebrow. “I was lying about the clean patch of ground, you know. This alley is filthy, and I want to change."

"Okay, okay, I get it." He at least had the decency to look chastened, but she wasn’t really upset with him. She just wanted to go home.

"Just stun your friend and we can get back to the Ghost, love," she said gently.

He gave her a small smile before putting the helmet back on and retrieving his blaster. A few seconds later she heard the stun blast and followed him back to the road, where he was dragging the rookie’s unconscious body away from the entrance to hide it behind some crates.

Inside the spaceport, no-one stopped them. She was just a citizen with an escort, nothing to worry about. The Ghost was exactly as they’d left it this morning, and Chopper only needed a little encouragement to open up and let Kanan in. When the ramp closed behind them, Hera sighed in relief. It was good to be home.

She had to remind traffic control that she would have already had her ID and intent checked at the entrance to the spaceport. They begrudgingly gave her clearance to take off, and she heaved a deeper sigh as the Ghost entered hyperspace. They were away, no-one was watching her now, and she could be herself again. Kanan and Chopper didn’t count; they both saw her for who she was. They were as much her home as the ship.

Beside her, Kanan pushed himself out of the co-pilot’s chair. "I'm going to get out of this armour, then I'll fix that squeaky vent in the ‘fresher that you've been complaining about."

She heard him cross to the door.

"Oh, Kanan, could you hold on a moment?" she called over her shoulder.

He paused with one hand on the door control. "What is it?"

Hera engaged the autopilot and got out of her chair to slink over to him.

"I know I said I wanted to change, but there’s a problem,” she began, stepping close to him and lightly running a finger over his chestplate. “See, there's a stormtrooper guarding the door, and I need to figure out a way to get past him."

She glanced up at Kanan and saw he was grinning. "Maybe you could offer him something," he suggested.

She pushed herself up onto her toes so that their faces were level, her eyes on his mouth.

“I wonder what he might accept,” she whispered, her lips barely an inch from his own.

Then she closed the gap and kissed him with a slow, simmering heat. His arms came up to hold her, one hand stroking along her back. It worked its way around to her side, sliding up until his thumb brushed the side of one breast.

He broke away abruptly with a serious look in his eyes.

“You put the safety on your blaster, right?”

She gave him a sly smile. “Why don’t you check for me?”

His answering grin was accompanied by both hands sliding up her sides, and then he was giving a very thorough and enthusiastic check for hidden weapons.

#kanera #swoonjune2021 #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #star wars: rebels #star wars rebels #pretchwritta #fic #swoon june

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permanentcrossfics · 4 years

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Blurred Lines: Until They Met Again // h.s.

Italics sorted (someone tell me why Google Docs doesn’t love me like Microsoft Word did by letting me copy italics?)! Happy reading, all. See you next time x

“So, m’going to be back in New York soon.” Again, you said nothing, and after a beat he continued. “Just for a night or so — I’ll be flying into Philadelphia and then out to LA for some work stuff.”

“Philadelphia to New York to LA?” you asked.

“London to Philadelphia and Philadelphia to LA.”

“So—” Bless whatever and whoever it was that’d sicked the cat on you to catch your tongue before you could ask him why he was coming to New York if he was flying into and out of Philadelphia. “That’ll be nice.”

He cleared his throat again and you dropped your phone from your ear to take a deep breath, suddenly hot.

“Yeah, so,” he began, “I was thinkin’, y’know. If you’re free or you’d like to….”

You’d like to laugh, because this whole thing was wildly fucking funny. Harry Styles was dialing you for a booty call after a one night stand from months ago. Harry Styles was going to detour into the city for one night just for you, and it wasn’t because you’d had such riveting conversation last time.

“When?” Your fingers twitched at your side.

“When’s good for you?”

Read NOW on Patreon // Tumblr // Wattpad // Read the extended ending only on Patreon

So, the truth was: you’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about him.

No — seriously. You’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about him.

Honestly, it was all more like a fever dream than anything. It’d happened to you — with you — and even you didn’t buy it. Because why would Harry Styles go to a hole in the wall burger place in the middle of New York City? Didn’t he have people to see at much nicer places with way better food? Especially after one of his own concerts, with people wanting to celebrate him?

And the sex…. It wasn’t even the night of that made your toes curl the most. The morning after, in the forty or so minutes it took room service to get to your hotel room? He’d fucked like his life depended on it. You’d been on your belly, and he’d been in it, skin slapping and both of you wheezing and sputtering your ways to the end because in the morning hours, they might care. In the morning, there might be someone who could recognize his voice or who would wonder if you cried out his name — you weren’t the only one who’d grabbed a hotel for the show, after all. Remembering the low, rumbling groan that’d echoed in his throat as he pulsed inside you and pushed his hips just so against you made you clench if you thought about thinking about it.

He’d left, you’d left, and you hadn’t told a single soul — not your friends, not your Instagram, and definitely not your mother. Not because he’d asked you not to, or because you couldn’t, but because it was the right thing to do. Only the worst of people had busy fingers and thumbs to take fishing selfies and post stories that created more talk than their mouths ever could. And honestly? It was easier to pretend it hadn’t happened, because that was absurd. The whole of it from top to bottom was the most hysterical insanity, and if you’d read it in a blind item column, you’d laugh your way around the world and fall off if it was flat.

(But it wasn’t flat, and as it was, you’d go round and round in circles, and where you’d stop, nobody would know.)

So, you had to forget all about him. And it’d worked, too. The end of June bled almost indiscernibly with the beginning of July, the blazing sun of which made all but the most touristy of tourists want to crawl underground. August brought enough relief to make you throw your windows open and lie naked on your bed, hoping a breeze would blow through, but it wasn’t until September you knew peace.

And then you’d picked up the phone.

It was an unknown number, and you were a 21st century person who routinely ignored any call from any number they didn’t know (and, sometimes, the ones they did). Maybe you knew — maybe that was why, despite your hiss of annoyance, you slid your thumb on the screen. “Hello?” Clipped in anticipation of either a robotic voice or a sales pitch, you barely held the phone to your ear, poised and at the ready to hang up as quickly as you’d picked up. You leaned across your sofa to grab the remote you’d thrown onto the cushions at the opposite end at the start of the film you’d put on.

“Hey, it’s uh—” The owner of the voice on the other end cleared its throat, but you were already frozen, tense and in shock, prickles erupting on your scalp and up your arms. You didn’t need him to say who he was. Even as quietly as he was speaking, the cadence and lilt were familiar to you anywhere. As was the smile you could hear in his voice. “It’s Harry.”

You jammed your thumb on the pause button several times until it finally took.

“Hi.” Flat, dull, and totally uninterested, which was not true or accurate. “Hi,” you repeated breathlessly, hoping he could hear the difference. “Hi, I didn’t— sorry. I thought it might be a spam….” You took a deep breath. He didn’t care. Hell, you didn’t care. “How are you?”

Harry’s cough sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “M’good,” he said. “Y’know, m’doin’ well, just… keeping busy. Working.”

You hummed but otherwise stayed silent, waiting. This wasn’t exactly a phone call you got any day and every day, and you doubted he was calling to check in with you.

“Philadelphia to New York to LA?” you asked.

“London to Philadelphia and Philadelphia to LA.”

He cleared his throat again and you dropped your phone from your ear to take a deep breath, suddenly hot.

“Yeah, so,” he began, “I was thinkin’, y’know. If you’re free or you’d like to….”

“When?” Your fingers twitched at your side.

“When’s good for you?”

For a moment, everything went white with the headrush from the overwhelming power flooding you. He was waiting on you — fares and change fees probably didn’t matter to him, if he paid much for anything at all with how many airline miles he’d probably racked up in his life.

“Next Friday?” you asked. You’d need a full two days to recover from the shock alone. “If that’s good for you.”

“Should be,” he said. “I’ll let you know.”

You smirked slightly. Trying to regain a little control? “Sounds good,” you murmured, fingernails digging into your knee. “If not this time then another time, maybe.”

Needless to say when he texted you ten minutes after hanging up, Friday worked perfectly.

You didn’t hear from him again until closer to the date. Part of you was wondering if he’d forgotten, but when he asked you on Thursday if you were still on, you stared at his very formal message for a good fifteen seconds just… absorbing the fact that he was coming into town just to see you.

To have sex with you.

He wanted to meet for dinner first — God, did you have to? It made the whole thing so much more… you both knew you were winding up naked at the end of the night, anyway. When you looked up the restaurant, you just about died right there on your sofa. It was, in a word, expensive. The type of expensive that didn’t have the prices listed online but that Yelp was all too happy to spill. Stress mounted in you and you blinked in the dim blue light of your computer, shellshocked, scrolling through the reviews with your hand pressed tightly to your cheek.

It was a drop in the bucket, maybe, but he didn’t have to do this. He knew that, didn’t he?

More than once you wrote out a message to cancel — you didn’t feel well, a work thing came up that you couldn’t get out of, someone from somewhere was flying into town and you had to see them. Every time, though, you deleted it all. For months, you hadn’t thought about him, but now… you wanted to see him. Badly. You wanted to see if it was as good and normal as the first time. If it crashed and burned, fine, but at least you’d know and wouldn’t wonder what would happen if you got to see him again.

Dinner was late that Friday night. He’d asked if you were ok with that, and while part of you wanted to rip the bandaid off, the other part knew — or imagined to know — he had his reasons, especially when the name he told you to give when you got there wasn’t his. Suddenly, it clicked — people could see you and him, together, and he was trying to take precautions to avoid that as much as possible. Maybe for your sake as much as his.

The inside of the restaurant was dark, and you gave the name as discreetly as you could, trying not to fall right over from how your nervous knees were knocking together. Each step through the maze of tables full of diners clinking wine glasses, sharing pizzas, and cutting into massive steaks that were bigger than the plates they were on made you a little more nauseous, and you were seconds away from turning around and bolting on jellied legs when there he was. Alone, huddled behind a plant in a dark corner that was more secluded than the rest, with a basket of bread in front of him along with a bowl of butter and a bottle of olive oil. He was typing on his phone when he looked up and did a double take with your wave and feeble smile.

“Hi.”

Harry stood slightly and only sat down after you’d done the same in the chair that was pulled out for you next to his — albeit too clumsily and too soon.

“It’s good t’see you,” Harry said, quietly and warmly but still audible over the clang of the dining room.

“You too.” You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. You didn’t remember eye contact being this intimidating with him — you’d had sex with him and managed it better, not to mention the conversation and shameless way you’d flirted with him during the show in a way that would show up any seventies groupie. “Good trip?”

You should take your coat off. You should put your purse somewhere, and you should maybe try not to look like you had a stick up your ass, but all the common sense, human nature things that you’d usually do without thinking suddenly took a great deal of effort to remember.

“It was ok, yeah,” he said with a shrug as you gingerly set your bag down and tried to get out of your jacket without hitting him in the arm. “Here, let me….”

Harry stood and hooked his fingers into your jacket and pulled it down your arms to drape it over the back of your chair.

“Thank you,” you said, still hot despite shedding a layer. “How’ve you been since…?”

Since we last had sex?

“Good!” he said. “Good, y’know… busy, but good. Getting some different things done.”

“Anything I can know about?” you asked, managing a smirk at last.

A mistake, because he returned it, and his looked better. “Not yet,” he said. “Couple of things might come out soon.”

You held his gaze a fraction of a second too long, and you felt its impact. Clearing his throat, Harry picked up the menu card in front of him. He looked like he was fighting a smile, and there was a very faint flush in his cheeks. “So, the ah, linguine in vodka sauce is very good and there’s a vegan version if that’s somethin’ you’re interested in.” He flipped it over. “And the affogato—” You bit your lip to contain a smile of your own, the flare of an attempted Italian accent over his Manchester accent cutting through influences from London and America alike comical in a way it shouldn’t be— “is nice if you don’t have to be up in the morning.”

Before you could think about it, you said, “Sounds great.” Harry looked at you from the corner of his eye, mouth twitching, and coughed into his fist to hide it. Jesus — could you say or do anything that didn’t make you seem a sort of way? “Is there wine?”

No, apparently, you couldn’t.

He nodded, lips still quivering annoyingly. “Ordered us a bottle — hope that’s ok, it’s….” He gestured just as a waiter approached with it.

“That’s good,” you said.

“Sure?”

You nodded and he gave his own to the waiter who busied himself with uncorking the bottle and pouring you each a glass. Harry held his, hovering in midair when you picked yours up.

“Oh—” Belatedly, you clinked yours with his before taking two deep sips. He didn’t even try to hide his laughter, then, and his eyes crinkled over the rim of his glass.

“So,” he said. “How’ve you been?”

Since you last had sex.

“Well,” you said, running your finger over your glass. “Working, mostly.”

“What is it you do?”

You stared, but his green eyes were wide and endless waiting for your answer. Nowhere on his face was a trace of irony or disinterest — he’d asked because he genuinely wanted to know. “I—” You stammered a bit before getting it out and he nodded, a flicker of recognition passing over his features.

“Tell me about it.” Just as authentic and sincere.

“It’s… I mean….”

With some coaxing from him, he dragged the details out of you — for how long, how did you get into it, was it what you’d always wanted to do, did you like it, what were the hard parts, did you think he could do that if he put his mind to it. And, eventually, you stopped feeling like your teeth were being pulled, whether in thanks to the wine, the pasta, or his charm — charm you’d known about but that was lightyears worse when it was directed right at you in the corner of a restaurant with your knees touching under the table — you couldn’t tell. He spoke about himself, too, and every now and then while listening to his slow drawl, it was hard to connect the fact that the voice speaking owned these stories. It was like you were eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation with him and being told things you shouldn’t know and had no right to know, but it was he, himself, and he was telling you of his own accord.

“Would you like dessert?” he asked when your plates were cleared.

“We could,” you said. “If you’d like — the affogato?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “Not planning to get any sleep tonight?”

The bottle of wine had been described as bold, and apparently you’d absorbed some of that along with the alcohol. “You tell me.”

Harry pressed his lips together, rolling them thoughtfully as you smiled at him as the waiter approached, ignoring your racing heart to hold his gaze.

“Will there be anything else tonight?”

His ball, his call.

With only a quick glance to the waiter, he said, “One affogato to share, please.” He turned to you again. “And the check,” he added without breaking eye contact.

***

The hotel was intimidating — not somewhere you could ever stay on your own, and, for that reason, not a name you recognized, but you knew by the name emblazoned on the carpet outside the doors that it was the sort of hotel you should know. Hand on your elbow, Harry nodded and greeted the doorman with warmth and enthusiasm acting as the smoke and mirrors to allow you to slip into the lobby ahead of him. You paused, watching him through the glass, and seconds later he was through the door after you.

“This way,” he said, eyes darting to the elevator bank.

“Nice place,” you said as he waved the back of his wallet over a black magnetic pad attached to a column before pushing the call button.

“You like it?” he asked, watching the floor numbers above the elevators. He gently took your elbow again and pulled you towards one descending faster than the others. When the doors opened, it was empty, and you both got on with him mashing the close button until the doors rattled shut and locked you both in with an almost eerie silence.

“Thank you,” you said. “Again. For dinner — and dessert. You really didn’t have to.”

Harry pressed his floor, but his smirk was warmer and his eyes softer than they had been since you’d both left the restaurant and gotten into his car. The jittery, tingling sensation in your hands and belly had nothing to do with the espresso from dessert.

“Thank you for coming….” Flames surged in you, up through your torso and over your chest and neck, and you held your breath as his cheek dimpled, the pointed phrase lingering between you. “To dinner,” he added, grinning wider as if he’d displayed some revolutionary wit instead of the most basic— “You don’t have to either, you know.”

He was still smiling, but it was impossible to miss his pointed message acknowledging the power imbalance between you. You didn’t have to do this, dinner or no dinner, and as much as you knew that, it seemed he needed you to know he knew that, too.

“I know,” you said, voice catching in your throat. “You’re welcome,” you added with a quirk of your mouth, holding eye contact with him as if your knees weren’t quaking.

The doors opened and you followed him into the hallway, but he came to an almost immediate stop in front of a door he again waved his wallet over. “After you,” he said, holding it open. On purpose, you were sure, because he looked smug when you squeezed by him, chest-to-chest.

Oh, wow.

It was a suite — you were pretty sure that was the only way something this huge could be classified. There was a king-sized bed off to one side, with an overstuffed armchair and a luggage rack with his suitcase on it, and to the other there was a sitting area with a sofa, more chairs, and a coffee table. Beyond it, a chandelier hung over full dining table surrounded with chairs, and a closed laptop with a couple of books sat on top of it with the cord stretched to an outlet. Combined, all of it was bigger than your entire apartment. “Hotel room’s better than mine,” you mumbled, looking around from corner to corner, floor to ceiling.

Harry laughed and strolled past you, gesturing towards the sofa. “Can make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I’m just going to pop in there for a bit,” he said, pointing to a door. “I’ll be right out.”

“Sure!” you said. “Sure, take your time.”

He disappeared through the doorway and you only just caught a flash of tile and mirror when he turned the light on before shutting the door. Seconds later, the sound of water running reached your ears, and, exhaling, you dropped your bag on the coffee table and unbuttoned your coat to drape it over the arm of the sofa before taking your boots off. You crept over to the window and pulled the gauzy curtain back. Below, cars zipped through the city streets, looking like festive ants from this height. You couldn’t hear anything except for the air conditioner — a bit chilly, but you stopped yourself from changing the temperature. You didn’t know how he liked it, and it might turn out to be… necessary.

The running water from the bathroom cut off abruptly and when you turned around, Harry emerged. His cardigan was gone, and his face looked scrubbed clean with his hair damp and pushed back like he’d raked his hands through it. “Sorry about that,” he said, quietly, grinning as he got closer, and you caught a waft of peppermint toothpaste. “Coffee and all.”

“It’s ok,” you said.

Harry stopped in front of you and your throat tightened when he slid his hands up your neck, palms soft and warm. Tilting your head back, you stayed very still as he rubbed the apples of your cheeks with his thumbs with an almost intimate tenderness, and your lips parted with anticipation. You could smell his cologne and you could feel how warm he was, but when he leaned in, you inhaled sharply and turned your face. “I should probably do the same,” you murmured almost regretfully. You wanted almost nothing more than to kiss him right then — you’d been waiting all night for that and more — but you could taste the espresso on your tongue, and you wanted to be able to kiss him right.

Harry looked like he was going to say no, and if he had you might’ve gone through with it, but finally, licking his lips, he nodded and let go of you. “Sure,” he said. “You can— go ahead, I’ll….”

“Thank you.” You smiled softly and slipped away, shutting the door behind you. Once you were in, you let out a breath and your shoulders slumped. The bathroom, like the suite, was massive, with a bathtub and a shower with a rainshower head stuck to the ceiling. Only one of the double sinks looked like it was in use, with his deodorant, a bottle of cologne, a comb, and a razor half out of a kit lying next to it along with a toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste.

You gulped, staring at it, before patting underneath the counter and looking around the room. There had to be a complimentary…. Aha! The toiletry bag from the hotel was perched on a shelf over the toilet and you opened it, sighing with relief when you found a toothbrush and a microscopic tube of toothpaste.

“Can use my toothpaste, f’you want.”

You nearly dropped the whole thing into the sink when you jumped, holding your chest and looking at the closed door.

“I—” Swallowing your nerves, you nodded. “Thank you,” you called back. You unscrewed the gap from his tube with shaky hands and spread a bit on the bristles, and as you scrubbed, mouth foaming, you stared deep into your eyes in the mirror under the soft vanity lighting. Just sex — it was just sex. And yet, there weren’t enough words to say how surreal this was.

Teeth, tongue, and gums done, you splashed cool water around your neck and forehead before patting dry and evaluating yourself. Legs? Fine. Stomach? Full, but not uncomfortably so. Teeth? Fresh. That was it, then. Tapping the light off, you opened the door and stepped out.

Harry was on the edge of the bed, head hanging and hands on his knees, but he looked up when you came closer, a sharp snap of his neck, his glinting eyes reminiscent of a starving man.

“I’m sorry!” you rushed. “I’m sorry.”

“S’ok,” he said, standing. “Don’t worry about it, c’mere.”

No more pretense. No more waiting.

Cupping your face again, Harry slanted his mouth over yours and you moaned softly, circling your arms around his shoulders. For all the anticipation, it was slow — he was taking his time kissing and coaxing your lips open, groaning his appreciation between quiet smacks while you languidly pulled your hands across his back. He was warm through his shirt and every muscle seemed to tense and release under your wandering fingers. He really was broad, too — he didn’t look it sometimes, but he was, and strong. Minty kisses matched yours, and every now and then you caught a whiff of the same rich and delicious smell you’d determined earlier was his cologne. Breaking, you pressed your lips to his jaw and then his neck, moaning when you got a concentrated dose of the scent. Harry moaned and you felt the vibrations in your mouth through his skin, and he squeezed your hips as you kissed up and down his neck.

“That’s nice,” you murmured between kisses.

“Thanks,” he said, voice strained. You grinned. “Just be—” Harry swallowed. “Just be careful, please. Sorry if that makes me a dick, but….”

Be careful with—? Oh. Marks. “Don’t worry,” you whispered with another one. “I get it.” You were on his throat when you added, “No one will know I was here.”

He laughed, full and deep, and you grinned wider. “Come back here,” he said, tilting your head back so he could kiss you again, and you stilled to return it, though every now and then one of you smiled and broke the rhythm. Drawing your hands down his torso, you stopped at his waistline and felt along until you found the button for his trousers. “Tryin’ t’get into my pants?” he crowed under his breath.

“Made sure I wouldn’t be able to sleep,” you said. “Might as well do something.”

The whole world turned when Harry spun you suddenly. You gasped, nearly shrieking with startled laughter when he dropped you on the bed, and you were still giggling when he unbuttoned your jeans and pulled your zipper down.

“Gonna hurt m’feelings if you keep laughin’ at me,” he said, the warning softened by his grin.

“No, I won’t,” you said, eyes rolling up with a sigh when he slid his hands underneath your shirt. You sat up a bit until he brought it up over your head and tossed it away before he bent over your chest.

You’d had sex with Harry Styles and forgotten all about it, but he was doing his damndest to make sure you remembered.

Oh. Right. He was good at this — ridiculously, absurdly, eye rollingly amazing. Each kiss down your over your breasts was simple but carefully placed. He suckled every patch of skin into his mouth with a thoughtful hum and a grunt of conclusion, and when he reached your sternum, he sighed hotly.

“God, y’smell good.” You laughed breathlessly and nodded your thanks as he made his way down your belly. “Smell so—” He pressed his nose to your hip and inhaled deeply— “good.”

He said it so deeply, so slowly, so deliberately, that if you didn’t know better you’d think he’d never meant anything more.

“I’m gonna take these off,” you said, voice sticking in your throat. You sat up and he did, too, pulling his shirt off while you stood on wobbly legs to shed your jeans. He stared, unabashedly, and it was again one of those moments that was so surreal you couldn’t believe you were living it. “Do you have condoms?” you asked, nearly toppling sideways as you kicked your ankles free.

“In the drawer,” he said.

He’d really detoured to New York out of Philadelphia just to sleep with you and he wasn’t even pretending he hadn’t had this in mind.

You took a step towards it but he grabbed your wrist. “Hang on,” he said. “Know you can hardly wait—”

You gasped. “Me?” You almost wanted to smack that smarmy grin off his face, and when he nodded, you reminded him, “‘When’s good for you?’”

“Flexible schedule,” he murmured, pulling you down onto his lap. Straddling him, you held his shoulders to keep from teetering backwards, mouth hovering over his. “We’ve got all night,” he said, kneading your hips with a cocked head. “Don’t we? Not getting any sleep?”

An electric thrill shot through you. His lips were twisted at the corner in an almost coy smirk, and his eyes were endless, full of a level of confidence that made you tingle. You gasped, soft and sharp, and his smirk widened into a grin when you grasped his chin and kissed him, hard, as he dropped back onto the bed and brought you crashing with him.

Again the world spun when he turned you over, and your eyes rolled as he trailed kisses down your cheek and neck — greedy ones with chins colliding and teeth scraping skin as he held you by the jaw to keep you still. You only barely managed to shift on your back when you felt his hand sliding underneath you, and seconds later the pressure of the band around your ribs released and your bra straps loosened on your shoulders. Harry pushed the flimsy material up over the swell of your breasts, and your mouth fell open when his closed firmly on your nipple. He released it with a soft noise before pulling it again with slightly more pressure, and one of your hands fell into his hair.

“Leg up,” he rasped against your breast, pushing one of your knees gently but firmly. You did as he asked and bit back a moan when he fit his palm over you through your underwear, its radiating heat making you throb. Up and down he stroked, tentatively at first and then with more certainty, thumb dipping into your slit over the fabric. “Ok?” he asked. Barely able to hear him through your ringing ears, you nodded, and, with the permission, he hooked his fingers under the thin scrap of fabric with a quiet groan. “That’s nice,” he said as he explored with such a careful, barely there touch, you almost couldn’t breathe waiting to just feel something. Swallowing hard, you let out a slow, deep breath, eyes falling shut as you turned your head to the side, knuckles brushing over your mouth as your heart raced out of control.

“Don’t have t’be quiet,” Harry said almost lazily as he descended lower and lower on your stomach with spongy, stubbly kisses and carefully opened you with his fingers. “Don’t have to—” He laughed when your legs jerked as the pads of his fingers slid over your clit. “S’ok,” he continued. “Relax for me… s’it feel good?”

You nodded, gulping.

“Is this ok?”

He pressed his finger onto your clit and you took a deep breath. “Yes,” you said, voice sticking in your throat.

“That’s good, then,” he said. “Anything y’don’t want me to do you just tell me, right?”

You moaned, then, low and long, and you lifted your hips from the bed as you squirmed. “Yes,” you repeated, slightly louder and pitchier. “Yes… oh,” you sighed, toes curling when he laved his tongue over your nipple while stroking your clit, each breath deep and full, your belly warm. “Fuck!” you whispered, sucking in sharply. The last time you’d felt yourself get wet like this — slippery, soaked — had been… well, with him.

You laughed under your breath. It’d been with him. Of course it had. “Oh!” you gasped sharply when he circled faster, gripping the back of his head with one hand while the other slapped down on his shoulder.

“Can hear it, can’t you?” he asked. “Can hear how wet— oop—” His finger slipped out of his rhythm. “There we go,” he muttered. “Easy…. Gotta make sure your pussy’s open for me, don’t we?”

“I am,” you said, back arching. “I am, I’m….” You clenched your teeth together and your head tossed against momentarily as you dug your toes into the sheets. “Mmm….”

“Sure?” he asked tightly. “Gonna be able to get inside?”

“I am,” you whispered. “Please, I want you inside me.”

“Yeah?” Harry asked.

“Yes!” You were hot, everywhere, almost feverishly, and you couldn’t stop moving, fidgeting, trying to do anything to just…. Sucking in sharply, your lips barely moved when you uttered, “Oh, my God, I’m gonna cum,” in one soft breath, digging your fingers into his shoulder more. Your whole body was tense and your stomach muscles kept clenching and releasing, the warmth in your belly spreading through your legs and up your chest. You were going to cum, you were— so close, almost laughably so. Whimpering, you pressed your trembling lips together to stifle a louder moan bordering on agony, and you were just starting to feel the relief of those first flutters when, suddenly… he stopped.

He stopped?

“No!” you said. “No, please, no, why?” you asked breathlessly, bordering on a cry, hand clapping to his face and forehead bumping his when he popped off your breast. “Why?”

He laughed, but it was a strained sound. “Sounds too pretty to let it end just yet,” he said. “Got… got all night, don’t we?” he asked. “Got all….” He grimaced and rocked backwards. “Shit.”

You stared at him, sluggish mind slowly catching up. He was still in his trousers — they’d never made it off somehow — and he was very obviously hard. “Come here,” you breathed. “Come….”

Harry grunted when you pushed them down his hips. Awkwardly, limbs tangled, you climbed over and around each other until he was on his back and you were on your shaky knees, tugging them down and off him completely. A pair of red boxer briefs fit him perfectly, hugging his thighs, hips, and the cock straining in them. His chest rose and fell with each heavy breath and you felt his eyes on you when you lowered down, pressing kisses to his knees and up his thighs, his leg hair tickling your nose. You were at the edge of his briefs by the time you were feeling blindly along his waistline, and you sat up when your fingers slipped inside to pull them down. Locking eyes with him only briefly when they were tugged past his thighs, you grinned impishly before lowering down and he touched the back of your head with a barely there graze when you licked a stripe up the underside of his cock.

“Oh, shit,” he breathed blissfully above you. From under your lashes you could see him grinning with his arm over his eyes, and you licked again and again before ducking lower and pulling one of his balls into your mouth with a delicate suck. His answering groan made your hair stand on end and you wrapped your hand around his cock, running your thumb up and down near the head.

You had all night. Last time had been frantic, rushed, with an invisible timer that wouldn’t stop tick-tick-ticking, and you hadn’t known what you wanted, or were allowed, or how much of it you could have. Now, though, you were enjoying touching him, holding him, experimenting with what you knew and what you were figuring out from every moan and sharp breath above you.

“Is this good?” you asked between sucks.

“Yeah,” Harry grunted, nodding his head belatedly. “Shit… s’real good.” Gently, then, he grabbed your hand to move it higher up his shaft while you licked one of his balls. “Y’can… f’you want to—”

Hand in his, he moved your hold slowly up and down, and the throbbing sensation that’d been lingering between your legs grew. Holding your breath, you watched him jerking himself with your hand, each downward tug pulling his head out a little more. His nostrils flared and he gulped, throat bobbing visibly, and you licked your lips, head spinning. Unthinking, you lifted up and wrapped your mouth around the tip, sucking firmly with a breathy moan, and you felt his thighs trembling beneath you for a moment as his hands faltered. Up and down you bobbed, stretching your jaw slightly more each time to try to get more, but when you felt a click, you pulled off abruptly.

“Sorry—” You slurped wetly and laughed, horrified. “Sorry!”

His loud laugh joined yours, warmer and more delighted than yours. On fire, you dug the heels of your hands into your eyes until he pulled your wrists.

“Come here,” he said, still wheezing. “Come….”

You whined, stretching out next to him, and he chuckled, cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. “S’ok,” he said, body shaking with suppressed laughter. “Got me a little wet is all,” he teased.

You grunted when he rolled you onto your back and you melted underneath him as he kissed you — first on your mouth, then your neck, your shoulder, and inside your elbow, before he pushed up and opened the bedside table. The box of condoms wasn’t the hotel’s, but what had to be his own preferred brand, and you must’ve made a noise, because he glanced at you sharply, then.

“What?” he asked.

Smiling slightly, you shook your head. “Nothing,” you assured him.

He chortled, tearing one open and pulling out the flimsy, wet rubber. Biting your lip, you watched him pinch the end and smooth it down before he cleared his throat.

“D’you wanna get on your…?”

You stared, waiting for him to complete his question. Harry licked his lips and jerked his head.

“C’mere,” he said. “Turn over, like….” He coaxed you onto your hands and knees before pressing down on your back between your shoulder blades. “Little lower… there y’go,” he said when you bowed, arms outstretched ahead of you and ass high. “That good?” he asked and you nodded.

“Yes, please,�� you mumbled. He laughed quietly behind you but gripped your hips and you closed your eyes.

“Deep breath in,” he said, smooth and warm. “In and out, in and—”

Face contorting, you grunted under your breath when he thrust, shallowly at first but gradually deeper until his pelvis was flush with you. “Oh, fuck,” you wheezed, back arching. It was good, but a bit of a pinch and stretch — had it been this way last time? Maybe you hadn’t noticed as much from the adrenaline rushing through you.

“Ok?” he asked.

Still grimacing, you nodded, hands fisted in the sheets. “Good,” you managed. “Good, good… oh!” you cried out when he thrust with heavier weight, hands bruisingly tight on your hips. That right there — that was good, the angle and the depth, and if you brought your legs together just a bit—

“Fuck!” he groaned behind you. “Fucking….”

Faster, steadier, you muffled your noises in the sheets as you rocked back against him. Pathetic — you were pathetic whining and pushing into him, but he’d left you hanging and you were trying to get it back because you’d been so close.

“That’s it,” Harry grunted, laughing breathlessly. “Fuck my cock.” He took a rattling breath. “Fuck yourself on my cock…. Shit, y’got no idea how wet it looks right now.” He stilled suddenly and you paused, heaving.

“Harry!” you whimpered, twisting, arms too weak to lift up.

“What?” he asked, and you could hear the smug smirk in his voice. “S’wrong?”

You let out a keening moan, face flat on the bed, before you tightened and pushed back on him. His answering groan was guttural, and he held you fast when he went silent, only the slapping noise of your ass meeting his pelvis and the sound of the bed thunking filling the air. Good— not bad— not enough, though, either. Stopping short, wheezing, you reached behind you to tap one of his hands. “Let go,” you said, tapping it again. “Both….”

Immediately, the pressure released and he backed up without a question, slipping out of you with a wet drop. Gulping, you forced yourself up and sat back on your knees to steady yourself before turning. “You ok?” he asked. “You good?” His cheeks were red and his chest and arms were sweaty and shining, lips swollen and bitten up, eyes dark but sharp and attentive on you.

“Mmhm.” You pushed him by the shoulders and he teetered in his surprise before he fell on his back with a muted grunt. Hands on his chest, you swung one leg over him and lowered down to rest on the underside of his cock. His nostrils flared and his eyes bounced from your face to where you were sliding back and forth on top of him.

“What—” Harry cleared his throat. “What’re you doing?”

“Told me to fuck myself on your cock,” you reminded him, inhaling sharply when your clit bumped his head through the condom. “Didn’t you?”

Again he cleared his throat and ran his hands up and down your thighs. “C’mon, love,” he muttered. “Please. Don’t leave me hanging?”

“Why?” you said, laughing as his head fell back. “Have all night, don’t we? That’s what you told me.”

“M’fucking balls are gonna explode,” he said, groaning. “Seriously, I’m like….”

Still laughing, you lowered your chest while lifting your hips, and with your mouth on his, you guided his cock back in. One of his hands clapped down immediately on your ass and held you there when you began to rock again, finding a steady rhythm. Sloppier, rougher, but your clit was against him and the pressure was perfect.

“Oh my God, you feel so good,” you said between kisses. “You’re making me feel so— oh!” you exclaimed breathily.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Making y’feel good? You feel good? You feel….” Harry swallowed conclusively. “Fuck me, look at y’riding me like this!”

The hazy part of your brain hoped it was as good for him as it was for you, because this was amazing for you.

“Jesus, y’so….” Harry groaned, a deep, helpless sound. “Lis— listen to me,” he said. “Can y’do that? Can y’let me make it good for us?”

You didn’t answer at first, caught off guard.

“Trust me, darling,” he mumbled. “I can make it so good for you, I promise.”

“What? What, what—?”

“When I say stop,” Harry said. “Y’gonna stop.”

You whimpered.

“Just for a bit,” he rushed on. “Just for a bit, love, only for a moment.” He kissed you hard and quick. “S’gonna feel so good when y’cum,” he said. “I promise you, you’re gonna feel so good when you cum. Right?”

Rolling your hips, you huffed against his mouth. You were exhausted — your muscles were sore, used, and felt like they’d been stretched taught to the point of snapping more than once from the tremors rippling through you.

“Stop,” he whispered. Eyes squeezed shut, his cock pulsed inside you. “Stop, please—”

Whining, you came to a still, panting and dropping your head onto his shoulder, heart beating in your throat.

“That’s good!” he said, hand slipping up your sweaty back. “Good girl, just… just for a moment.”

“I wanna cum,” you admitted, more broken and needy than you liked.

“Promise,” he said, patting your shoulder, “y’gonna cum. Gonna take good fucking care of you.”

Again and again, you stopped and started, each stop happening sooner and sooner with both of you so close. You could feel how swollen you were from the repeated almosts, but even without finishing you knew he was right and that when you did finish it would be indescribably intense. He’d rolled you onto your back at one point and pulled out, trembling from head to toe with a glazed over look in his eyes as he fought to pull himself back, but by the time you were asking him to please, let you cum — you were tired, you wanted it, you just wanted to cum — you were back on top.

“Please, don’t stop,” you breathed. “Oh, please, oh—”

“So cum, then,” he groaned between his teeth. “Fucking cum.”

A cramp shot through your foot right when every muscle in you tightened, and you were pretty sure this was the ugliest you’d ever sounded when you came since the time you had your first orgasm and hadn’t had the ability to process the new sensations, but it felt… incredible. Hot, like everything in you had snapped and crackled and was shooting through you in fizzling tingles, and seconds later, he thrust up with a strangled sound in his throat and you felt his cock throbbing in you with each stream of cum. Shaking, his head dropped back off the side of the bed and he wheezed through each breath. Dropping your forehead to his shoulder, you gulped for air, trembling, ears ringing. The whole world might as well have been spinning for how steady you felt.

“Holy shit,” he breathed at last. “That was—”

“Yeah,” you said, relief flooding you. Him too — not just you. “Gimme a minute and I’ll….”

“S’ok,” he said, patting your ass. “Can take your time.”

***

You didn’t remember falling asleep. You didn’t remember much at all after the sex, honestly — how you’d gotten off him, or when he’d gotten rid of the condom, or if you’d even peed — although you did have a fuzzy memory of him calling down for room service and getting it despite it being after hours.

Waking up now, though, every bone in your body felt like they’d been fused together and then cracked. You rolled over, stretching and shaking, and your arm dropped to the side and swiped through the empty sheets — warm — as you listened to the shower running. When you finally opened your eyes, it was pitch black save for the crack of light coming from the bathroom. The blackout curtains had been pulled — he must’ve done that — and you twisted to look at the alarm clock next to the bed.

“Morning.”

Harry approached the bed, already wearing his trousers and t-shirt, hands full of the items from the bathroom countertop. His hair was damp at the ends but not washed, only his clothes evidencing his walk of shame.

“Morning,” you said.

He grinned crookedly. “How d’you feel?” he asked. “Y’know — with all that… wine and caffeine.” He smirked as if in on a private joke and you pressed your lips together. Pointed, and not at all about the wine and caffeine.

“Fine.” Amazing. “You’re up early.”

Still smirking, he said, “Have to leave for the airport in a bit.”

Already? That was… fast. Surprising, but not at all. The opposite of last night that’d felt like it’d gone on forever, but that was ending in a blink.

“It’s early,” you said, repeating your earlier sentiment.

“Headed to Philadelphia.”

You deflated. Right. “I’ll get dressed,” you said. You sat up, sheet tucked under your arms and across your chest.

“Don’t.” Harry dropped his items in his open suitcase on the overstuffed chair in the corner and a quick glance at the table revealed the laptop as well as the rest of his personal items had been swept from the suite. “Room’s mine until noon. I can call for a late check out, too, if you’d like. But you should stay — get some rest, order some breakfast.”

You shook your head. “I can’t, I—”

“Please?” he asked. “Paid for it, it should go to good use. ‘Less you got somewhere to be.”

You didn’t — you’d purposefully picked Friday to be able to take as long as you needed to the next day, but you’d thought you’d need the time to pick up where things had left off, not to lounge in a suite without him. Sighing, you smiled softly, and he nodded his satisfaction.

“Good,” he said as you leaned back against the headboard. “Take your time — sounds like you had a busy week.” His hands were hidden in his bag as he shuffled around inside. “This was fun,” he added quietly, the sound of his suitcase closing explosive in the silence.

“Mmm.” A vague sound, but you weren’t brave enough to say anything of substance.

“When I fly back to London, I’m going to be stopping in Philly again,” he said. “If you’re around— maybe I can call you and see?”

Not a dream — he was really standing in front of you asking if he could come up to see you sometime. When you didn’t respond, he looked at you from the corner of his eye, and you took a deep breath, snapping yourself out of your reverie.

“Sure,” you said as nonchalantly as you could. “If I’m around.”

“If you’re around.”

Jacket and cap on, Harry picked up his bag in one hand and held what looked like his passport and a boarding pass in the other. “Just gotta do one thing,” he muttered, and as he got closer, your lips parted. When he bent, though, he picked up the phone with one hooked finger and jabbed 0 with his knuckle. His necklaces dangled from his neck and he was so close his breath tickled your nose, eyes twinkling with mischief even as he mumbled a sorry.

You were just about to playfully whisper that he did know it was a cordless phone, right, when you heard a pleasant, clipped voice on the other end. “Good morning,” he said. “M’calling because I’d like to see if it’s possible to get a late check out?” You shook your head but he ignored you. “Yeah— great, thanks. 2:00pm?” You rolled your eyes. “That’s perfect. Thank you so much, have a great day.”

“I won’t stay that long,” you said when he hung up.

“But now y’can if you want to.”

Harry grinned even as you shook your head.

“You have a plane to catch.”

“Kickin’ me out?”

You shrugged and he chuckled. “Had a good time,” he said with the same quiet sincerity from before.

“Me too,” you whispered.

“Thank you. I’ll call—”

“Ok—”

You saw it, then — the faintest glimmer of hesitation and uncertainty, and honestly? You didn’t blame him. He’d flown in for a trip that, as far as you could tell, was for work, and he’d made a detour into the city for sex. The sex was done, and so was any physical intimacy, but it would feel… off to end the night with a handshake.

Before you could think to say it was ok and he didn’t have to, though, he mumbled, “I’ll see you,” just as he leaned in. Short but not quick, you leaned into it, and then, just like that, it was over.

***

You genuinely thought he’d forgotten about what he’d said. He was busy, and getting some wasn’t a priority, but when your phone rang with an unknown number some few weeks later, you paused and had half a second of questioning before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hello,” he returned it, sounding amused. “Y’not sure it’s me?”

“I don’t have your number,” you reminded him.

“Is now a good time to talk?”

“Sure?” More of a question than an answer, but he went on before you could correct yourself.

“M’gonna be flying out tomorrow,” he said. In the background, you could hear noises like zippers and snaps, and he had a distant echo in his voice that made you wonder if you were on speaker.

“Already?” you asked.

Harry laughed, loud but very far away. “Been a month or so,” he said.

“Really?”

“S’almost the holidays, love,” he said.

He was right — they were closer now than they were farther away, but it felt like only yesterday you’d been sweating and sharing a meal in a hole in the wall restaurant.

“Are you free tomorrow night?” he asked. You bit your lip and your prolonged silence must’ve made him falter. “If you’re not, it’s ok,” he said. “Just wanted to ask, cause I know I said maybe… if—”

“You’re flying to Philly from LA and then driving to the city?”

Harry cleared his throat. “Actually… s’more like I’m flying into the city and then I’ll head on out to Philly… after….”

After seeing you.

It was out of your mouth before you could think better. “You could stop by mine.” Silence greeted you and you kept talking to fill its void. “If the airport— I guess it depends— but even if you flew into Jersey you’d still have to go— except— I mean—”

He laughed on the other end and you groaned.

“I owe you dinner,” you said, face warm but a sheepish, unseen smile pulling at your mouth. “You’ve treated me twice.”

“Ok,” he drawled. “F’you wanna get me dinner, I can come by yours.”

“I’ll text you the address — I have the thread.”

“And I’ll text you my number,” he added. “You should have it.”

Twenty-four hours later, you were rushing around your studio trying to make it feel like less of a shoebox. Stupid — you should’ve just asked for his hotel. He had to have one! This was sex, it wasn’t a you get this tab and I’ll get the next one sort of arrangement. The sheets on your bed were freshly changed, pillows fluffed (fluffed — who knew you’d ever fluff pillows), and you’d swept and wiped the floors down in the living-bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom alike, but everything still felt small and not enough. You’d lit some candles to try to compensate, but you’d gone on and off with them, blowing them and relighting them a handful of times as you went back and forth on whether or not they lent a feeling that didn’t belong in this sort of situation. Now, though, they burned and flickered on your coffee table, and you were just connecting your phone to the speaker when a knock on your door made you jump and spin.

“Coming!”

You spared a cursory glance through the peephole before twisting locks and unhooking chains, his hulking figure filling your doorway.

“Texted,” he said apologetically. “But—”

“I was just cleaning up,” you said, opening the door wider. “Sorry— come in.”

He shuffled past you with his printed luggage in hand, and your heart sank, ensnared in nerves, as he walked into the apartment that looked even smaller with him in it. Ears ringing, you could barely hear the notes of whatever album your phone had selected to autoplay. It was small, but it was yours — all yours — and if it didn’t meet his standards, then he didn’t have to stay.

“It’s—”

“Nice place,” he said slowly, and the upbeat lilt told you he wasn’t being facetious. Your shoulders fell with relief and the tension relaxed out of your neck. “That’s a nice candle,” he added, sniffing the air.

“It’s a little smaller than your hotel room,” you said.

“Been on tour buses, love,” he said, setting his luggage down. “There’s not really much smaller than a bunk racing across the country.”

Smiling, you squeezed your arms as he unzipped his coat and took his cap off. “How was your flight?” you asked.

“Dunno, really,” he said, running a hand through his mostly flattened curls. Unlike last time, he didn’t have his rings on, and his fingers looked longer and more slender without them. “Slept through most of it — had a bit of turbulence over Colorado or Utah or wherever, but it wasn’t tha’ bad.”

“Good,” you said. “If you wanna… um….” You jerked your thumb towards a door. “Bathroom’s there, if you need to clean up or anything.”

He nodded. “That’d be great, thanks. In there?”

You stepped aside to let him by, catching the distinct waft of plane and warmth and the spicy vanilla smell you’d come to associate with him. When he closed the door behind him, you exhaled and again spun through the apartment, shoving shoes under your bed to finish your tidying before carefully pulling the coffee table away from the sofa — his legs were longer, he’d need the room. You’d just smoothed out the rug when your phone buzzed and you grabbed it, seeing both the texts he’d sent you before that you’d missed in your focus as well as the one from your delivery man letting you know the food was outside. Perfect.

“S’a good album,” Harry said from the bathroom doorway after you locked up again. You jumped, gripping the bag with a knuckle-popping hold. You didn’t think it was possible to be quiet and sneaky in a place like this. “Sorry,” he said, snickering.

“I like it,” you breathed. “Dinner’s….” You lifted the bag on your way past him and heard him trailing after you. You set it on the coffee table and sat on the sofa as you popped the staples on the paper bag. “It’s nothing amazing.”

“That’s a review,” he teased, sitting next to you. “Now I can’t wait.”

“Shut up,” you said and he laughed loudly. “It’s just this place that’s nearish — El Diablito — they’ve got really good nachos and burritos.”

“Mexican, then?”

“Yeah.” Fuck. “Probably should’ve thought of that since you’ve just come back from LA,” you muttered.

“S’fine,” he said. “Didn’t really have much Mexican.”

You arched a brow and he coughed into his hand.

“So, d’I get a burrito?”

You nodded and pulled a hot, foil-wrapped item out of the bag. “Careful,” you warned, purposefully busying yourself with pulling the rest of the food out of the bag as he unfolded it.

“Looks good,” he said. From the corner of your eye, you watched him adjust his grip and angle his head before stretching his jaw wide to take a bite. You looked away quickly, almost overwhelmed by how comical it’d been, but when you looked back you found him chewing thoughtfully.

“You can have some of my quesadilla if you don’t like it,” you said quickly. “And the nachos are for both of us to pick at.”

Still, he didn’t say anything, until at last he swallowed and his lips smacked several times. “S’good,” he said thickly. “Like, that’s….” He peered at the corner he’d bitten into almost in disbelief. “That’s really good.” Again he stretched his mouth almost comically wide, tongue out, and this time you did laugh. Mouth full, he glanced up at you with unblinking eyes and mumbled a muffled, “What?” through his bite.

“Nothing,” you said, grinning and unwrapping your own food. “Go on, eat.”

“All right, calm down,” he said. “Have the whole night ahead of us.”

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sparring-hyena · 3 years

Text

the time of our lives.

this one was kinda requested/suggested by @cloakanddaggerthings. they’ve also been a great help in hammering out the finicky details. thanks heaps, mate!

OR, the one where it takes a year for these two goofs to realise they’re in love.

i. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they start. although, start in a very loose sense of the word. because they were something before tonight. something fiery and intense, but certainly not something real.

they were midnight rendezvouses, sharp remarks that lacked any real malice, and moments that somehow meant nothing and everything. but what they were is irrelevant. because Poppy’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and fight. they shout and cuss and say things that don’t at all mean but that make this whole thing easier.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i hate you,” and feels something break in her heart.

“i hate you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ leaves and now Poppy’s standing alone on the front lawn. she ignores the tears that fall down her cheeks and tries to tell herself that everything will be fine.

so, yes, that’s how they start: in the final ten seconds of the year with an i hate you that actually means something else entirely.

ii. Valentine’s Day.

she sees AJ sporadically throughout the day. and that irritates Poppy like nothing else ever has. figures it would be today of all days that she sees her everywhere.

first it’s at the crack of dawn as she walks home after a one night stand that she spots AJ on a jog. they’re on opposite sides of the street, but it’s empty so they see each other.

AJ stops in her tracks and looks right at Poppy, not exactly irritated but certainly not pleased. Poppy fixes her with a glare that says what are you looking at? AJ shrugs and starts up on her jog again, and Poppy huffs and continues on her walk home.

then they see each other on campus way too many times—in the café, on the quad, and in the library. and each time, Poppy’s glare is met with a shrug from AJ.

the last time she sees AJ it’s late. the sun has long since set and there’s a chill that’s set in for the night. she’s on her way home from dinner—some blind date Veronica had set up—when she spots AJ across the street, laughing and walking hand-in-hand with some girl who looks vaguely familiar.

Poppy watches them until she can’t see them anymore, and wonders if AJ saw her this time, too.

iii. spring break.

she goes to Miami for the week with Veronica and Chloe. her intention is to have a fun and carefree week where she doesn’t once think about AJ.

it’s two days into her trip when she finds herself scrolling through Instagram late one night. curiosity nibbles at her restraint until she’s typing AJ’s name into the search bar.

she finds AJ’s profile and the first picture she sees is some candid shot of AJ and that same girl from Valentine’s Day looking at each other with ridiculously cheesy smiles. Poppy switches her phone off and doesn’t dare touch it for the rest of the night.

Poppy goes to a party the next night and hooks up with a girl who looks a lot like AJ. Veronica and Chloe point this out a few days later, laughing over cocktails. Poppy scoffs and tells them that’s complete bullshit and tries to hide her blush by taking a long sip of her drink.

iv. summer break.

the academic year ends and Poppy sighs with relief as she collapses onto her bed. she’s got three months until her final year starts, and three months where she doesn’t have to see or think of AJ.

it goes well at first—the not thinking about AJ. she spends a lot of time shopping and partying and lounging by the pool of her parents’ beach house on Long Island. but there are only so many hours of the day where she can keep her mind busy. so it’s at night, when she’s in bed trying to fall asleep, that her mind wanders back to AJ.

the first time it happens, she groans and rolls onto her side, and tries to flush all thoughts of AJ from her mind. that works. but then it happens again and again, and before Poppy really knows it, it’s halfway through August and she’s thought of AJ every single night since the end of June.

she lays awake in bed and watches the fan on the ceiling spin in lazy circles. her brain summons a long and near forgotten memory of a night a lot like this. she closes her eyes and sinks into the warm embrace of the memory:

she was in bed with AJ. it was either late or early, Poppy can’t quite remember. she decides it probably doesn’t really matter. they were talking and laughing under the quiet blanket of night. and Poppy suddenly remembers how she’d reached for AJ’s hand and never wanted to let it go.

Poppy opens her eyes and glances to her side. the bed is empty beside her, the sheets untouched, and she can almost feel the ghost of AJ’s touch on her hand. she squeezes her eyes shut, trying not to cry, and realises she never did hate AJ. she was probably just scared.

v. Halloween.

there’s a party on campus—isn’t there always? a frat party with costumes and decorations and cheesy music that starts to sound alright after three or four drinks. Poppy slips in later in the night, when everyone’s teetering on the edge of tipsy and drunk.

she moves through the throng of people towards the kitchen to pour herself a drink, and bumps into AJ for the first time this semester.

“hey,” AJ says, awkward and unsure, and Poppy silently regrets everything she’s put her through.

“hi,” Poppy says, smiling and really meaning it.

that seems to loosen AJ up a bit, and she returns the smile in kind.

“haven’t seen you in a while,” AJ says, leaning back against the counter and sipping her drink.

“been busy,” she lies even though that’s something she’s trying to stop.

and AJ seems to understand the lie for what it is. “you wanna go outside for a bit?”

Poppy only nods, afraid that if she speaks, she’ll ruin whatever’s happening right now. it’s quieter outside, the cheesy music and chatter nothing but a gentle murmur. they stand out on the front lawn of some frat house and Poppy gets a strange sense of déjà vu.

“i wish things had been different, y’know?” AJ says, her voice a gentle reassurance.

“me too,” Poppy says, and then: “i’m sorry that i said i hate you. because i don’t.”

a moment of silence passes, uncomfortable and almost tight like a rubber band pulled to its limit. because it looks like AJ’s about to say something important that’ll put them on a better path. but then the front door of the frat house flies open, and a few drunk students stumble out into the yard.

AJ offers Poppy a smile, almost sad and longing. “it was nice seeing you again.” and then she heads back inside.

vi. Thanksgiving.

Poppy doesn’t plan on visiting her parents this year. and besides, they’re going out of town for the holiday. so if she has to be alone, she’d rather it be in the sorority house than in some stuffy brownstone on the Upper West Side.

it’s late in the afternoon when Poppy gets a text from AJ. all it says is are you at the sorority? she stares at it for a moment, debates deleting it and carrying on with her day. but something tells her to respond, so she does.

she says that she is and waits for AJ’s response. she waits five minutes, then ten and nothing comes. Poppy scoffs and tosses her phone onto her bed. it’s not long later when she hears a knock on the front door. Poppy doesn’t think much of it, so she answers it without checking.

she finds AJ standing on the front stoop, grinning like she knows something Poppy doesn’t.

“what are you doing here?” Poppy says. “i thought you’d be on your way home by now.”

“i’m getting an early flight tomorrow.” then AJ holds up a plane ticket, grinning like this has been her plan all along. “and i was wondering if you’d want to come with me.”

“what?”

“come home with me. my parents always cook too much food, so really, you’d be doing them a favour.”

Poppy folds her arms over her chest and studies AJ for a moment. “don’t you want to take your girlfriend,” she says, and maybe she wants her words to hurt a little bit.

“we broke up over the summer,” AJ says, simple and easy.

“oh. sorry.”

“don’t be. it wasn’t working out and hadn’t been for a while.”

“are you trying to use pity to get me to come with you?” Poppy says, and she knows AJ wouldn’t, but it’s kinda fun to mess with her.

“no, of course not! i just wanted to be upfront with you. so, come home with me. please.”

Poppy plucks the ticket from AJ’s hand and says, “i’m only doing this for your parents.”

“of course.” AJ winks and grins. “i’ll see you bright and early at the airport tomorrow then.

the flight is uneventful, although Poppy decides AJ is much too cheerful for seven o’clock in the morning.

when they step inside AJ’s childhood home, Poppy’s immediately struck by just how warm and lived in it all feels. AJ’s mother tells her to mind the mess as she ushers them both inside, and AJ’s father greets them and says hugs’ll have to wait as he gestures to his dirty apron.

they all cram around a too small table in mismatched chairs that creak and rock back-and-forth. Poppy doesn’t care that she’s sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with AJ and one of her sisters. dinner is loud and fun, and AJ’s parents insist on sharing stories from AJ’s childhood. and as dinner winds down and dessert is served, Poppy reaches for AJ’s hand beneath the table and knows that she’ll never let go.

vii. Christmas.

it’s close to midnight on Christmas Eve when AJ appears on the front stoop of the Zeta house. she looks distraught and like she hasn’t had a good night sleep in days. so Poppy steps outside and asks, “what’s wrong?”

AJ looks at her, really looks at her, and Poppy feels something shift in that moment. and then AJ’s talking, words tumbling from her mouth, and it doesn’t look like she can stop herself. then she says i love you and everything goes still.

it takes a moment, but AJ seems to catch up to what she’s just said. her eyes go wide, and Poppy can see that she’s gearing up to apologies. but Poppy doesn’t let her. she surges forward and hug AJ tightly because oh god, i’ve missed her so much.

Poppy doesn’t say the words back, not yet anyway. but she holds onto AJ and tries to show her that she loves her, too.

viii. New Year’s Eve.

naturally, this is where they end. although end in a very loose sense of the word. because they will be something after tonight. something supportive and challenging, but most importantly something real.

they will be promises of forever, witty remarks that are just an i love you in disguise, and moments where the rest of the word falls away and it’s just the two of them together. what they will be terrifies Poppy. because she’s got a reputation and parental expectations, and AJ doesn’t fit into any of that... right?

maybe. but maybe it’s good that AJ doesn’t fit into that. maybe it’s good that AJ had upended everything she thought she knew. maybe that’s what makes what they will be so damn perfect.

so, they stand in the front yard of some frat house, a New Year’s party raging on inside, and finally admit what’s been there all along. they talk and tease and say things they mean with all their heart.

it’s with ten seconds of the year left that Poppy says, “i love you,” and feels that final piece of her heart heal.

“i love you, too,” AJ says as the countdown finally reaches zero.

there’s cheering from inside and then AJ steps closer to Poppy, smiling so bright and warm, and Poppy twists her arms around AJ’s neck and doesn’t once care that she’s probably smiling like an idiot in love.

so, yes, that’s how they end: in the final ten second of the year with an i love you that means exactly what it claims.

#my writing #poppy x mc #poppy min sinclair #queen b #playchoices #this story 100% ignores canon #it also combines a number of holiday related requests i've gotten but just didn't get around to writing #hope that's all good :)

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writer-ish · 3 years

Note

41. Overhearing they have feelings for you

Dazzle me with your amazing words 💕

cliche tropes + prompts list #41. Overhearing they have feelings for you

Brooke scanned the patient chart one last time, feeling uncharacteristically nervous as she approached the doors to the diagnostics team’s office.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d rehearsed what she wanted to say before entering that room - making sure she didn’t fumble over her words or say the wrong thing - but here she was, feeling like a first-year intern again who was just trying not to screw up.

Taking a deep breath, she stopped just before she reached the glass windows that separated the office from the rest of the hospital. She released the breath slowly, telling herself all the things she already knew: You’re being ridiculous. You’ve earned your place there. You know what you’re doing.

It was just difficult to coincide these thoughts with the feelings swirling inside her. Somehow, it had been so much easier with June and Baz as her colleagues. Everyone had felt like they were on an even playing field, even if experience levels had differed slightly, and after the initial growing pains of joining the team for the first time, she had gotten into her groove fairly quickly.

Now, with the tumult of a new hospital setting, the intrusion of Leland at the helm, this whole concept of “horizontal leadership” or whatever the hell he had implemented, and—

Brooke cringed, ashamed at the direction of her thoughts but unable to help herself—

—all of it was made that much more difficult by the addition of Dr. Harper Emery, former Chief, neurosurgeon extraordinaire, and - she allowed herself a little sigh - Dr. Ethan Ramsey’s former romantic partner, to the Diagnostics Team.

She felt pathetic and she felt small. If she was any sort of doctor or, really, any person who wanted to better themselves in their chosen field, she would be using this change to benefit her own position - to learn and to grow and to become the best doctor she can possibly be.

Instead, she was acting like she used to act in middle school, when the boy she liked had a crush on someone else.

Snap out of it, she commanded herself, hoping the firm mental voice in her head did its job. You’re better than this. You deserve better than this. And so does Ethan.

She knew it was a disservice to both of them, this assumption that he was somehow pleased beyond a professional capacity that Harper had joined the team.

But sometimes, insecurity didn’t follow the rules or listen to reason. She would just have to get over it, one way or another, and pray it didn’t affect her - professionally or personally - in any meaningful way.

Heaving another sigh, she went to take a step towards the door, when she heard voices muffled through the glass.

“Oh, I was going to ask—” It was Harper, Brooke identified quickly. Her voice had a distinctly melodic tone, which belied the tough, no-nonsense exterior she always upheld.

“Hmm?” Ethan. Brooke would have recognized that distracted grunt anywhere. Her heart swooped a little at the sound of him, like it always did.

“Are you free tonight to go over the results from Mrs. Herringbow’s case? I was thinking maybe we could stay late, order something in? We could also just go to my place, if you’d prefer. I’m sure you remember where it is.”

There was nothing particularly lascivious about Harper’s comment, but Brooke felt her heart start beating irregularly nonetheless and she leaned back against the wall for support, mindful to stay out of view of the window. She held her breath as she waited for Ethan’s response.

“Oh.”

Oh? Oh? That’s it? she thought, her mind tumbling like a tennis ball in the dryer. Oh what, Ethan?

She heard him clear his throat.

“I’m not sure that’s—I mean, that is, I’m happy to go over the results with you any time, it’s just that—tonight? I actually, uh, have plans.”

She barely even noticed the uncharacteristic fumbling over his words, instead continuing to hold her breath to see if he’d elaborate. Because, the fact of the matter was, he didn’t have plans. Not with her, anyway. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was playing at, exactly.

“Oh.” This time it was Harper’s voice, slightly nonplussed. “Okay, that’s not a problem, maybe—”

“With Brooke,” Ethan interrupted. “Er, Dr. Spiers, that is. I have plans with Dr. Spiers.”

“Ohhh.” Harper’s response was more drawn-out, more knowing, than it had been previously. “I see. So, that’s still—?”

“Yes,” Ethan said firmly. “We’re together.”

“Well, Ethan.” Harper’s voice held a tinge of humour. “I mean… I’m not trying to steal you away from her or anything like that. It would be a strictly professional meeting.”

Brooke didn’t know how, but she could literally hear him pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No, I—I know,” Ethan admitted. “It’s just—my priority is her, right now. Her feelings. I’m just not sure how she would—”

“Is it really that big of a deal?” Harper responded, a bit stridently. She seemed annoyed, maybe by the implications of Ethan’s refusal. Maybe by what she assumed was a hypothetical overreaction on the part of absent Brooke.

“I don’t know,” Ethan replied honestly. “I feel—new at all of this, somehow. Like I’m navigating foreign waters. All I know is that…” He hesitated and Brooke held her breath. “That I don’t want to screw this up.”

There was a loaded silence. Then, Harper spoke:

“Well, good. You not screwing things up would be a new one.”

A pause, then they both burst into laughter.

“Remember the time you told that vineyard owner that you wouldn’t even use his merlot for cooking—?”

“You’re just mad because you couldn’t get that free sample anymore—”

Their laughter carried out of the doorway and Brooke stepped away from the wall, and began heading in the opposite direction, feeling lighter than she had in days. She bit her lip to try and contain her smile, heart fluttering in competition with the butterflies in her stomach.

Her diagnosis could wait. For now, she’d let two old friends do some catching up.

#open heart prompts #open heart #open heart fanfic #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart ficlet #in this house we respect harper emery #and headcanon that mc is a tiny bit insecure #and ethan is just clueless

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lupismaris · 3 years

Note

sorry you’re feeling so crappy 😔 i hope you feel better soon!!

if you’re feeling up to it, maybe silverflinthamiltons on a lake or beach vacation?

SILVERFLINTHAM LAKESIDE HOLIDAY PART 1 with a surprise! and another segment to follow because this is them arriving to the lake!

(this got long so most of it will be under the cut.)

***

It was summer.

Summer meant blistering asphalt and bags of trash stewing on the curb each morning. Hazy sunlight blinding the street, dark cavernous pockets of shade where the temperature seemed to drop ten degrees, but the air stayed stale and suffocating all the same. It meant too many people and too much noise and parties in the park that never seemed to end, one just replacing another in an endless cycle of hedonism, and bottles of chilled wine and cheap beer sweating on the fountain walls. It meant long dinners and longer lunches, ice cream trucks and Italian ice carts on opposite corners of the street carrying on an old world rivalry. It meant golds and blues and lush greens wherever your eyes happened to fall, be it on a back alley garden or storefront window display.

Silver loved summer.

He loved the warmth and the sprawling picnics and the baring of skin and the feral energy of a child free from school amplified to suit a city of millions and the heady summer storms that shook the glittering skyline in a kind of holy cleanse. He loved the summer fruits and the sweet aperitifs and the old school white linen shirts and open fire hydrants flooding the streets and the neon lights reflecting in the puddles left behind, still evaporating in the hot night, giving the whole world an ethereal glow.

Though he had to admit it was always better spent on a beach with a frosted drink and not a goddamn thing to do. But, if a beach couldn’t be procured, a big, cool, well air conditioned house that was paid for by someone else was an excellent alternative. His sister’s condo in Chelsea for instance was an excellent place to waste away a summer on parties and sun bathing and a private pool that no one else seemed to have the time to use. He had spent several summers with Max that way, even once the Rangers had become part of the picture, if Silver was on the east coast for the summer, he would drop in and waste away a while.

Now though, it looked like summers were going to be spent in Brooklyn, in the big cool townhouse that Thomas had paid for, with the truly miraculously internal air con that was always kept at a balmy 65 degrees from May to October, and with very little to do outside of whatever suited his fancy on any given day. Oh and sex, a lot of sex. This would be the first summer in a very long time where he could not only allow himself a libido, but he could also satiate it.

Silver was thoroughly content with the new circumstances.

He was less content however, with how the summer months, or maybe just the summer months in the city, seemed to bring out the worst in people as frequently as it did the best.

Flint, for example, did not handle summers as well as Silver did. In part it was due to the heat and the sun and the weird smells coming off the steamy side walks, and Silver understood Flint’s frustration with all that, he truly did. But summer also meant more tourists and more people going out for a good time, more people starting brawls in bars and fights in the street and parties spilling over from one bar to the next, or worse packs of bigots making the rounds and harassing whomever they find, everything the working class service folks of the city dreaded- in short, Flint’s stress levels seemed to just rise with the temperature. And considering an average day in July might easily crack 100, Silver was starting to get a tad worried.

“Is it like this every summer?” Silver had asked one Friday morning in June.

The kitchen was soft with the morning sunlight, Thomas in his silk night shirt and robe as he perused the menu for the cafe on the corner, Silver fixing them each an espresso.

“To a point yes. You know how James is about control,” Thomas said with a fond smile, “when he’s at his best he can combat every threat to his sovereignty without so much as flinching. But the summer gets to him, makes him a bit of a wolf in a cage, so to speak.”

“Was he worse in Manhattan?” the buildings sometimes reminded Silver of a cell block, the slivers of sunlight cutting through as hot as cattle prods.

“Much. Hal has tried talking him into not working as much in the summer, but you know how he is, can’t be told anything once he’s got his mind made up. Not to mention he’s never been good at simply existing. There always has to be purpose in it, work to be done, fields to plow and what not.”

Silver huffed a laugh and brought Thomas’ espresso over, feeling a sense of warmth at the notion that he and Thomas were able to share this, to share flint and all his eccentricities.

“I’m sure a man as clever as you thought of some way to keep his blood pressure down, hm?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Thomas took the espresso cup without looking away from the menu. He set it aside and pulled Silver in, kissing him sweetly in thanks. Ah, that was also a nice thing to share with Thomas, Silver reminded himself.

“Oh I came up with a few ideas, pet. How about we order breakfast, and I’ll tell you about them.”

By Friday, the three of them were packed into Flint’s old Range Rover heading upstate for two weeks of holiday bliss. It had taken multiple phone calls to Gates to make sure the bar would in fact be alright while Flint was gone and to make sure he barred Flint from being within a dozen yards of The Walrus once it closed on Thursday night. It had also taken coaxing, convincing, bartering, and eventually outright bribery with sex to get Flint to stop scowling about the idea of being away from his “ship” for longer than a weekend. There had been other phone calls as well, placed by Thomas in the early hours of the morning when he thought he was the only one awake. When asked about them he just waved the questions away with a mild, “oh just a little extra surprise for James thats all” and Silver did his best to trust him.

It was a five hour drive from the house in Brooklyn to the house on Lake Cayuga that Thomas had purchased during his recovery, to he and Flint would have a quiet place to heal and make up for lost time without the strain of the city grating on them. Silver had never been upstate, his various clients had always preferred houses in the Hamptons, but from the photos it was a cozy little cottage style house right on the shore, a couple bedrooms, an airy kitchen, lush garden, and a private pier that stretched out into the lake. There was also apparently a boat, a little hybrid sailboat of polished wood and deep blue paint, the name Ariel written in careful golden script. Silver wanted to ask whether Flint had bought it or built it, because he was the kind of high strung man to just build a boat from scratch instead of buying one or scheduling extra therapy. But the scowl on his face as they tucked the suitcases into the trunk told him it wasn’t worth the teasing. Not yet anyway.

Flint insisted on driving the whole five hours himself, scowling silently behind the wheel as he drove them through miles of lush farmland, leaving Thomas and Silver to chat about what they might do once they get settled in. There was plenty of hiking, though Thomas was worried the gorges might be tricky for Silver’s regular prosthetic, ample water falls and countless parks to explore. Lots of quaint small towns with seafood shacks and local fare and more wineries than even Thomas knew what to do with. And of course, most importantly, there was the lake.

Flint kept his silence till the last hour of the ride, the scowl firmly set on his jaw. Silver and Thomas had switched seats so Thomas could stretch out and nap in the back seats, leaving Silver to try and coax a smile out of his partner. Not that he had to do much. As the car climbed yet another rolling hill, Silver watched the horizon, his hand in Flint’s, trying to figure out whether the deep blue streak that had suddenly appeared was a dark patch of sky.

It wasn’t, for the record.

Silver frowned and turned to Flint, planning to ask if it was the lake and exactly how big was said lake- but the question died well before he could even open his mouth.

The scowl was gone, dropped from Flint’s face and replaced by the softest look of wonder Silver had ever seen on the man, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, making his mustache twitch. It was as if something had hooked its line into Flint’s chest and was slowly reeling him in, his whole body sitting straighter, the tension in his shoulders bleeding out until he was leaning into the steering wheel. His hand even held tighter to Silver’s, an unconscious need to keep himself tethered maybe, or to keep Silver close.

“Is that the lake?” Silver managed to ask with a soft smile of his own.

“Yeah. We’ll be at the cabin in half an hour.”

They got there in twenty minutes, not that anyone was actually counting.

The lake stretched out before them, a sea of deep blues and aquamarines, glittering with the hot late June sunlight that danced across it’s surface. It’s shores were patched with wildflowers and thick thatches of wood, little clusters of cabins and boat houses, who’s owners were out skipping across the surface like dragon flies on their small boats and kayaks. The afternoon air was hazy and sweet, the whole scene a postcard from the mythical summers of memory that everyone aspired to, bird song and the low hum of the radio escorting them along the final stretch of route 90. Flint pulled them down a narrow side road, passing a few comfortably sized homes with ample space between them, until they reached the dead end of the street, and the little cottage Silver had seen in the photos, with the shadow of the pier dark across the water, and the Ariel waiting like a loyal dog in her berth.

“Oh good,” Thomas said with a yawn, finally pulling himself back into a sitting position and stretching, as Flint pulled the car into the drive alongside what looked like a rental car. “I was starting to think we were lost.”

Silver looked back at him, ready to tease about old men and naps, but Thomas was looking down at his phone, his fingers quickly switching on the stop watch. “Thomas what-”

The range rover lurched to a sudden stop as Flint hit the brakes and Silver had to cling to the seat to keep himself upright. Thomas seemed completely unfazed, draped across the back seat in his half buttoned linen shirt and designer sunglasses, watching with an air of fond expectation as Flint threw on the parking brake and booked it from the car, leaving the engine running.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Silver asked.

Thomas laughed and reached around the driver’s seat to shut the car off. “Exactly what I expected him to do, though I’ll admit I expected him to at least properly stop the car first.”

“What? Thomas- oh my god he’s going in the lake?” Silver asked, watching as Flint cleared the back fence and striped off his shirt, leaving it on the lawn as he kept moving towards the pier. His boots, socks, and jeans followed, barely breaking his quick stride to strip them off.

“Last time it took him a whole ten minutes to get into the water,” Thomas said, helping Silver, who was too busy staring in shock at the sight of his stern and stoic partner racing across the back patio like a child, from the car. “He might clear five minutes this time.”

A few more quick strides and Flint dove from the end of the pier, breaking the surface of the lake with a thunderous sound and disappearing into the blue.

“He’s in the lake,” Silver said.

Thomas hooked their arms together, the two of them walking leisurely across the lawn. “Every visit, the first thing he does is go to the water. It’s even more dramatic when it’s the ocean, maybe I’ll book us a house on the coast next month.”

“More dramatic than stripping down to his boxers in the back yard?” he asked.

The back lawn of the house was a mix of a large patio and and a short green, with a fire pit and a grill, a small dining table and some cozy chairs, and what silver hoped was a hot tub. A woman was stretched out on one of the long beach chairs in a deep green bikini, her dark hair cut short and a magazine across her lap, though she was watching the water, where Flint had just resurfaced for a moment before diving again.

“Miranda?” Silver called, aware that Thomas was beaming behind him but not at all surprised to see his ex wife. That explained the phone calls, and the rental car out front.

“I believe our husband is in the lake my dears,” Miranda called with a laugh, getting up to come greet them. “God he’s like a little boy at a swimming hole.”

“I’d ask how you got here but that seems almost silly,” Silver said, letting her pull him into a tight hug. They had taken to each other from the first, which had left Thomas and Flint a little uneasy. Miranda’s humor matched his, her wit sharp and familiar, and Silver had learned very quickly why Flint and Thomas were both still in love with her. He wasn’t far from it himself.

“Thomas called, said James needed an intervention,” She said, letting him go to kiss Thomas hello and hug him tight. “I’m on break from teaching this summer and the fall concert season hasn’t started yet, could I come out and join you for a couple weeks? Which was a silly question, I was buying a ticket the moment he suggested it.”

Thomas kissed the top of her head, smiling brightly. “I had hoped you might be his surprise before he jumped in the lake, I’m sorry my dear.”

Silver watched them, feeling a bit dizzy. They were were a perfect pair, Miranda dark and elegant under Thomas’ arm, the cool dusk sky to Thomas’ golden hour sun.

“Don’t be, I’ll go down to him, maybe join him in the water for a bit.” She kissed his cheek, then Silver’s. “There’s some snacks laid out in the kitchen and dinner will be delivered in a couple hours, why don’t you get the bags inside and then come join us. Maybe we can even take Ariel out before dinner.”

“Oh now there’s an idea,” Thomas agreed, moving to go back and fetch the bags from the car. “Tell our husband we’ll join you in a moment. If you can manage to get him up for air.”

Miranda laughed, a bright sunny sound that always reminded Silver of how she played piano, and made her way down to the pier. He watched as she sat down on the edge of the pier, as the surface of the water broke and Flint emerged, staring up at her in shock. Silver heard her laughing, saw her reach out and watched as Flint reached up and pulled her into the lake with a joyful shout of her name. They were lost for a moment to the water, kicking up waves as Flint held her tight and danced them around, clumsy and free. Behind him Silver could hear Thomas laughing, felt his hand as it came to rest warm and sure on his lower back, pulling him in close, as he said something about wishing they’d gotten that on film.

For Silver, it was one of those moments where suddenly he remembered what all those old love songs were written about. He understood it.

And it was finally his.

#my fic #black sails modern au #silverflinthamilton #jamie's fic prompt fills #@halewoods #john silver #james flint #thomas hamilton #miranda hamilton #i truly love this one and am already working on the next segment which will i hope be smutty as well as soft and sappy

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desdealgunlugardelsur · 3 years

Text

Harrison Ford: 2020 summary

A year like no other, as you must have heard countless times. The pandemic changed almost everybody´s life on this planet and Harrison wasn´t an exception. Our lil´ bean is strong and healthy but also has to be safe at home, so this year didn´t deliver many news about Harrison. Still, we had a new Harrison movie, The Call of the Wild, released in February, and a few other events before the lockdown. 2020 was also marked by the death of 3 former Harrison´s costars: Chadwick Boseman, Sean Connery and David Prowse. May all of them rest on peace on Heaven.

A new year begins, and we all wish Harrison (and everyone by the way) a productive, happy and healthy 2021. Stay safe!

JANUARY

Early January: Harrison Ford enjoying his holidays in the caribbean island of Bonaire

25th: Harrison Ford with singer Carole Bayer Sager in a dinner in support of US Democratic candidate Michael Bloomberg

28th: The Call of the Wild “Adventure Companions” Featurette. Harrison Ford talks about dogs and companionship in The Call of the Wild’s “Adventure Companions” featurette.

youtube

28th: not sure where these pics were taken. Probably in Wyoming? (pics from Rich Elali)

FEBRUARY

3rd: Verizon Super Bowl Ad Features Harrison Ford And New Pearl Jam Song

Kathleen Kennedy Says Harrison Ford Is Still On For ‘Indiana Jones 5’

Early-mid February: the national and international promotion of The Call of the Wild begins

5th: In Mexico City:

Harrison Ford: America Has Lost Its Moral Leadership And Credibility: The “Star Wars” and “Indiana Jones” star calls out U.S. policy on immigration and climate.

11th: On the Jimmy Kimmel Show:

youtube

More here

13th: Harrison Ford, actor and watch designer. Newly adapted from Jack London’s literary classic, “The Call of the Wild” transports us to the snowy expanses of Alaska in the 1890s, with Harrison Ford as prospector John Thornton. The actor talks about climate activism, technology and why mechanical watches beat smartwatches every time.

14th: Indiana Jones 5 Starts Shooting In Two Months Says Harrison Ford : The long delayed fifth Indiana Jones film is finally about to get underway, as Harrison Ford reveals that he will begin shooting in two months. (that was what they were planning before COVID-19 hit the world...)

14th: Harrison Ford: Indiana Jones 5 Will “See Part of His History Resolved”

17th: “A Force ghost? I don’t know what a Force ghost is…I have no idea what a Force ghost is. And I don’t care!“. Legend.

21st: The Call of the Wild is released in cinemas

At the movie premiere in Los Angeles:

BRING ON THE PUPPIES:

youtube

More videos:

Call of the Wild Survival Tips!

SNACK??? (Kudos to that girl)

Find epic stories at your library!

More news:

Of Course Harrison Ford Did His Own Call Of The Wild Stunts And 'Wore Out' The Stunt Team

Harrison Ford's shirtless chest is that buff (at 77) for his 'Call of the Wild' swim scene

26th: Steven Spielberg Won’t Direct ‘Indiana Jones 5,’ James Mangold in Talks to Replace

27th: Harrison Ford Breaks Down His Career, from 'Star Wars' to 'Indiana Jones' (Vanity Fair)

Late February: Harrison Ford visits Google´s offices in San Francisco to test the company´s self-driving car. [x] [x] [x] [x]

MARCH

14th: Harrison spotted in South Hadley, Massachusetts [x]. Apparently Harrison and Calista went to Massachusetts to pick up their son Liam after college shut down due to the coronavirus pandemic.

MARCH

...

APRIL

3rd: Disney delay multiple release dates including Jungle Cruise, The French Dispatch, and Indiana Jones 5

(…) Another big reveal is that Indiana Jones 5 – which will reportedly be directed by James Mangold – is being pushed back a year, from July 9, 2021 to July 29, 2022.

29th: Harrison Ford under FAA investigation after making a mistake while operating an airplane on the runway

According to the audio obtained by TMZ, Ford, 77, did not follow the direction of a tower operator to “keep short” on the runway because of “traffic”. It seems that the actor did not hear the direction. He nevertheless started to cross the runway, which prompted the operator to reprimand him for not following his instructions.

“Cross this trail now!” I told you to keep it short! You have to listen, “said the operator.

“Excuse me, sir, I thought exactly the opposite. I’m really sorry, ”said Ford immediately.

TMZ said there was no risk of an accident. The other aircraft was allegedly 3600 feet from Ford’s aircraft.

MAY

6th: Lucasfilm Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford To Return For Han And Chewie Star Wars Spinoff (Note: this hasn´t been officially confirmed by Lucasfilm)

15th: No news but I think this is cute:

From twitter.com/siikasele

21st: The Empire Strikes Back 40th anniversary. 40 years ago, TESB was released on theaters the 21st of May of 1980.

27th: James Mangold Confirmed To Direct Indiana Jones 5. Producer Frank Marshall confirms James Mangold is directing Indiana Jones 5 and says he's only just begun to work on his own script for the movie.

28th: James Mangold plans to take Indiana Jones franchise 'someplace new'.

Indiana Jones Writer on How Pandemic Will Affect Film's Script

JUNE

Nothing happens but look at this

You are welcome.

JULY

13th: Happy birthday king!

AUGUST

23rd: Harrison Ford dropping off his son Liam at College with wife Calista Flockhart via private plane (from tinyrebelstuff)

28th: Chadwick Boseman dies of cancer at the age of 43

Harrison Ford Calls Chadwick Boseman "As Much a Hero as Any He Played"

“Chadwick Boseman was as compelling, powerful and truthful as the characters he chose to play,” Ford said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter. “His intelligence, personal dignity and deep commitment inspired his colleagues and elevated the stories he told. He is as much a hero as any he played. He is loved and will be deeply missed.”

SEPTEMBER

24th: Harrison Ford Cleared by FAA in Runway Investigation. "The FAA has closed the case involving the pilot who crossed a Hawthorne Municipal Airport runway without authorization on April 24, 2020. The FAA required the pilot to take a remedial runway incursion training course. When the pilot successfully completed the course, the FAA closed the case with no additional action," the FAA said in a statement to The Hollywood Reporter.

OCTOBER

19th: Harrison Ford & Ed Helms To Star In STX Seafaring Comedy ‘Adventures Of Burt Squire’

22nd: Actor and Pilot Harrison Ford Becomes Airlink Spokesperson. Video here

31st: Sean Connery dies at 90.

Sean Connery: Harrison Ford pays tribute to his Indiana Jones father and 'dear friend'

"He was my father... not in life... but in Indy 3," he said.

"You don't know pleasure until someone pays you to take Sean Connery for a ride in the sidecar of a Russian motorcycle bouncing along a bumpy, twisty mountain trail and getting to watch him squirm.

"God, we had fun - if he's in heaven, I hope they have golf courses.

"Rest in peace, dear friend."

NOVEMBER

2nd: Harrison Ford And Lincoln Project Back Anthony Fauci, Advocate Firing Donald Trump

In the waning hours of the 2020 presidential election, the Lincoln Project has enlisted Harrison Ford to narrate a new ad that plays up President Donald Trump’s suggestion that he will fire Dr. Anthony Fauci.

The spot features a scene from a Trump rally on Sunday in which supporters began chanting “Fire Fauci! Fire Fauci!” and the president responded, “Don’t tell anybody, but let me wait til a little bit after the election.”

Ford then says, “Tomorrow, you can fire only one of them. The choice is yours.”

3rd: Harrison Ford and Bloomberg on Biden 2020

youtube

7th: Destiel becomes canon. Harrison doesn´t give a single fuck.

Also Joe Biden wins the US elections. Trump is defeated. Harrison, we know you hate Donald Trump. Congratulations.

21st: Harrison Ford back in Boston, Massachusetts, to pick up his son Liam for Thanksgiving Day.

28th: David Prowse, who played Darth Vader in the original trilogy, dies at the age of 85. Sorry, I didn´t find any words from Harrison on his memory... it seems they weren´t so close. Also, Jeremy Bulloch, the original Boba Fett, dies at 75 the 17th of december.

DECEMBER

10th: Indiana Jones: James Mangold, Harrison Ford Team to Close Out the Character

Harrison Ford and James Mangold's Indiana Jones 5 will serve as the final chapter for the iconic character.

Disney changed the Indiana Jones logotype. I have a bad feeling about this.

15th: Rare, behind-the-scenes look at 'The Empire Strikes Back'

Including this jewel:

Gif from the @theorganasolo

31st: And just at the very last day of this weird and strange year...

Disney Reportedly Wants Harrison Ford For Indiana Jones Streaming Show

Thankfully, then, it seems that the fifth (Indiana Jones) outing may not be the last we see of the actor in the role, as insider Daniel Richtman claims that Disney wants Ford to appear in a series that’s being developed for their streaming service. Further details are unclear and the tipster doesn’t say if it’s an all-new show or a reboot of The Young Indiana Jones Chronicles, but as one of the Mouse House’s most valuable assets, it wouldn’t be a surprise if they wanted to continue mining the property once Indiana Jones 5 wraps up the big screen stories for good.

Thanks everyone! Hopefully in 2021 the pandemic will fade and the world will return to normalcy. Luckily the production of Indiana Jones V will start this spring, as well as other Harrison projects such the tv show The Staircase and the movie starring with Ed Elms. Fingers crossed for a year full of (good) news about Harrison. Have a happy and safe 2021.

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mimiplaysgames · 3 years

Text

Drink Me

Pairing: Terra/Aqua Rating: T Word Count: 6,601

Summary: Aqua drinks a truth potion... Now they're going to have to talk about things.

Read on AO3

A/N: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY!! This is part of an art/fic trade that I'm doing with Moe (@terraswill on Twitter)!! I was so excited to work on this but it was also just... so hard?? We agreed on the trade back in June I think, and it took me this long. xD The timing was perfect though, and when they post their art, I'll edit this to include a link! Moe asked for was something domestic and fluffy (and I'm totally the wrong person to ask but I never back from a challenge dkfjkfjgf), and maybe give Aqua a reason to play a prank. We support a Let Aqua Have Fun 2021 agenda in this house. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. To my angst readers, I hope you find something here you like anyway lmao

~*~*~*~*~

She says she’s annoyed with me because I won’t let her dust the tapestry. Or rather, I won’t let her have her

way

and take on this ugly monstrosity (which I think is supposed to depict an ancient Keyblade Master who died four-hundred years ago; at this point, the threads are too faded to give him a defined face).

The truth has more layers than that, something I don’t like to talk about. But it’s a clear day, the sun beaming through our windows and igniting the castle in golden hues. I won’t find the time to mope when Aqua is beckoning me to give her the feather duster.

Aqua is a lot shorter than me. I pretend to give it to her, only to swerve it around her face and hang it up high above her head. I’ve got a smirk to last me hours, and there’s a sly one pulling on her lips.

“Maybe if you jump,” I say, wiggling it.

She doesn’t move. “Terra.”

I pull it up higher. “Come get it.”

“Or you could stop trying to overcompensate and let me help you.”

“Who says that’s what I’m doing?” That’s exactly what I’m doing. Any chance I get, I’ll do it all to make up for lost years. If she says she’ll tidy the garden tomorrow, I’ll rip the weeds by dawn. If she wants to prepare a feast, I’ll organize the ingredients, the recipes, the appliances. I call it helping out. She calls it ridiculous.

“You’re ridiculous,” she says. Yep.

“It’s not like you could reach the top anyway,” I say, knowing this is precisely what would set her off.

Aqua likes to present herself as proper: head tall, ankles together. But when I push her buttons, that’s the first mask to melt off. She lunges at me, chest to chest, aiming for the duster that’s balancing on the tips of my fingers, my elbow locked and shoulder riding as high as it can, as if I’m trying to clean the ceiling. We’re giggling, we’re tight, we’re children all over again.

“Give it,” she says, her eyebrows and lips twisted in feverish concentration. She’d never let anyone else see her behave this way.

“What are you doing?” She steps onto my shoes to gain height and I have to wrap my free arm around her waist to keep our balance (not that I’d complain if she ends up landing on top of me). My heart is pounding stupid rhythms at the smell of her shampoo. I don’t like sweet, but I like it on her.

“Master’s orders. Give it to me.”

“Try harder.”

She inhales sharply, giving me that Aqua look. Fine. She turns her head towards the tapestry and puckers her lips together, blowing air as if blowing out a candle. The layer of dust that sits at the very top bursts, sprinkling the console table beneath it.

In my shock, she snatches the feather duster, the quietest Hmm of satisfaction coming out loud enough to demand my audience. She taps the tapestry with a flat laundry bat, all while waving her hand over the surface of the table, the dust collecting itself as if swirled by a magnetic tornado.

No use for the duster at all.

“You think you’re clever,” I say, getting close behind her.

“I think you agree.”

I think she’s pretending. Her smile looks the same but it’s manufactured, tied to a puppeteer’s strings. There’s a flicker in her eyes that tells me she doesn’t agree at all. I’m prepared to tell her that she’s assured and confident, but she already knows. This happens: I’ll catch a sudden recognition dawning on her face, like she’s reminding herself of something, and I’m left to guess what it could be.

We’re interrupted by a loud sneeze that drifts from the other side of the hall, followed by a hack and a cough, finishing with a sniffle.

She’s panicked. It sounds like a case of the common cold, and nothing to be worried about, but that’s Aqua. I follow her lead, which takes us to no one else but Ven, who is wiping his face. A faint trace of dust rides on the strands of his hair. Actually, there’s dust everywhere except on the tapestry he’s responsible for.

“Ven!” Aqua gapes. “What happened here?”

He takes a look around the chaos and gives a mere shrug, rubbing the back of his hand on his pants. “I was dusting.”

“You were using magic,” she says like she’s scolding him, despite doing the same minutes ago.

“What did you expect me to do?” He gestures towards the tapestry—the Master’s favorite, of a round cat lounging on a throne and announcing a toast with his goblet—like it’s a mountain to climb. “Get a ladder?”

“What a mess,” Aqua mutters with a flitter of her fingers, shepherding the dust together so it’s easier to collect.

“I’m not finished.”

“Master’s orders,” I say and Aqua doesn’t spare me a glare. Yes, I find that funny.

Ven ushers her aside. “Come on, let me help.”

“I got it,” she says, fixated on the job. Always the one to do and still can’t learn to accept a helping hand.

“Aqua.”

“Ven?”

I know better than to get in the middle of this.

Ven generates gusts of air with a wave of both of his arms—a terrible idea when Aqua’s conducting from the other side—and the dust grows darker into a thick cloud of smoke. He stares at his handiwork with a dropped jaw. I’m shocked too. Where did all of that come from?

Aqua grunts as she tries to calm the storm, Ven mimicking her movements.

“Let it go,” I say, placing my hand on her shoulder.

“It will all fall to the floor.”

“There’s too much pressure building up from the bottom.”

“It’s under control.”

“It’s going to explode.”

She pouts (stars, it’s cute) but of course, only half-listens to me. Moving her palms parallel to the floor, she makes a gesture as if to compress. With Ven slacking, it billows low to the floor and then sweeps up.

The tapestry flaps upward, revealing a door.

Ven’s the first to cough. “What’s that?”

Aqua and I stare at each other. We’ve hidden behind every single one of these tapestries when we played as kids. There shouldn’t be a door.

“Do you think it’s magic leftover from—” I start to ask.

She shakes her head. “It can’t be. I returned everything to its rightful place.”

“Then what is this supposed to mean?”

Discouraged by our hushed tones, Ven stops himself from turning the knob, waiting for our approval.

“It could have been hidden by a spell,” Aqua suggests.

“Oh.”

We’re quiet. Spells last for as long as the spellcaster is alive.

“The Master would have called it an inheritance,” I say. “Don’t you think?”

One by one, we peek into the secret room. Ven is eager to open the door but only pushes it a sliver. It creaks with determination to wake everyone inside. Aqua is second, looking over him. I’m last, searching the corners for signs of movement.

It’s empty except for a rack of white robes, stacks of books on a desk, a chess board, and a forest-colored couch. On the opposite wall sits a huge wardrobe next to a reading stand, displaying an open tome on what may have been the last page the Master read. An old-fashioned wall clock with visible parts and spinning characters counts the time, looking peculiarly like the Land of Departure. The sun shines through a window—though this would be an extra. All the windows on both sides of the castle are accounted for. You wouldn’t be able to see this room from the outside.

“Terra,” Aqua gasps, “look at these books.”

Most of them are titled in an ancient language. “They’re from Scala.”

“We could probably find Sora with these,” she says, flipping through one.

Some of the robes are sewn with patches of snake skin, others stained with faded off-yellow, each a varying size for a growing teenager. I take the largest—it smells like dust—and slip it on. Almost a perfect fit, though I would’ve preferred it longer.

“It looks good on you,” Aqua says, coming to my side.

I smile at the floor, imagining what the Master would have said, how large his smile would have been under that bushy mustache, like the day he gave me his belt buckle and told me it would be a nice touch. Aqua inspects a fraying seam on the shoulder.

“I can fix that,” she whispers. I let her pull it off me, and she dotingly folds it over the book she decides to take with her.

“Whoa.”

We drop our thoughts and turn to Ven, who’s helped himself to the wardrobe, stupefied at shelves of potions in glass flasks. Ugly colors, weirdly shaped, totally bizarre.

“These aren’t any potions I recognize,” Aqua says, placing her stack on the couch and investigating the shelf with her arms crossed.

None of them are labeled. “Maybe they’re lost knowledge,” I say, still thinking about her compliment. How often does she think I look good? “Can you imagine what kind of magic they’re packed with?”

Ven glances at the open book on the reading stand. “Let’s see.”

I join him, watching him flip through crudely drawn illustrations of odd shapes. We both snigger.

“Look through walls,” he reads before turning to the next page. “Neverending sweat. Turn a face blue. Glue lips together… This one says you can unglue them by washing your mouth with soap.”

“Lost knowledge.” Aqua scoffs.

“But who made them?” I ask. “The Master?”

Aqua rolls her eyes. “Please.”

“This is his secret room.”

“It looks like his handwriting,” Ven says, trying to keep his smile tiny. Trying. “Kind of.”

The O’s and the T’s certainly have their curls, just the way Eraqus would have done them. The Y’s are similar too, if a bit exaggerated and large. As Ven turns more pages, all of which are yellowed and chipped at the edges, I realize the drawings match the shapes of different vials, equipped with descriptions of colors.

“I think Ven’s right.”

Aqua throws a look (Forget it) and rolls her eyes again. It’s her favorite thing to do. “We’re talking about the Master here. He wouldn’t waste his time on something like this.”

“I got an idea!” Ven beams, nudging me on the elbow. “Why don’t we try some? Guess what they are before we look in the book?”

The only person who stiffens is Aqua.

“Look at her face.” Ven points. “She thinks we’re savages.”

Aqua doesn’t say anything, but it’s possible.

I cock my head. “If the Master were here, he would have gotten a kick out of this.”

“Terra—”

“Regardless of who made them.”

She drums her fingers on her forearm. “If it makes you happy,” she mumbles. It was subtle, but it was there.

“I’ll go first!” Ven leaps over the reading stand. There’s a rainbow of the most unsavory colors. The neon, the dull, the too realistic. “This one looks perfect.” He grabs a thin vial of liquid that I could mistake for vomit: a faded, rotten lime green, and drinks it all in one swish.

Following the last gulp, he withers to the floor, flailing and begging for it to stop.

I’m searching through the book for an answer.

Aqua throws herself to her knees. “What’s wrong?”

Ven giggles, cradling his stomach then scratching his back. “Don’t touch me.” He gasps in between painful howls of laughter. “It makes it worse.”

She carries his head to her lap anyway. She wouldn’t be Aqua if she isn’t indulging in some deep-seated instinct to assume we’re not healthy before assuring herself that we are.

I tap my finger onto a page. “Tickling potion. ‘Give this to your favorite person,’ it says.”

“I’m going”—Ven inhales—“to bring the Master”—inhales again—“back to life just to… kill him again.” He deteriorates into another round of wheezing, hugging himself tight and turning over into a fetal position.

“It’s too juvenile for the Master,” Aqua reminds me.

This page is written with the same suspicious calligraphy but I hold my tongue. To ease the look of worry on Aqua’s face, I step forward. “My turn.”

“You can’t be serious,” Aqua says.

“Relax. There’s no such thing as death by tickling.”

Aqua jerks to say something but stops herself. I’m guessing, Let me have at it and you’d think otherwise. Nothing that she’d say with Ven in the room.

Ven rubs his eyes and sighs—it’s shaky and long, but it’s an improvement. “Can I try another one?”

The first potion to catch my attention is this wide, stubby one filled with what looks like dark mud.

“Terra.”

Her warning makes me think of the slight possibility of developing diarrhea from this. I stare into her eyes as I swallow a gulp of it anyway, much to her horror and much to my enjoyment. Her expressions are a never-ending list of entertainment.

The potion is too smooth to be mud. It tastes spicy, a kick without any flavor. At first, I don’t feel anything, until a zap of electricity rides up my spine. Gooseflesh covers the backs of my calves up to my neck.

By the time I realize that I’m shivering, Aqua has my face in her hands. Her fingertips are warm when she brushes my hair.

“I’m fine.” A white cloud puffs out of my lips.

Ven is cackling. Not from the tickling, that may have stopped as soon as he got distracted, but he’s pointing his finger at me.

“As fine as a monkey walking naked into the snow,” she quips, wrapping the robe around my shoulders and rubbing my biceps.

“You can’t say, I told you so,” I say, my voice reverberating. “You didn’t know this was going to happen.”

“I know you don’t regret it.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

She scoffs, smirking. Her eyes drop to some faraway conversation with herself.

“What are you thinking?” My teeth clatter.

She raises her eyebrows, playing coy.

“Whoever made this freezing potion,” Ven interrupts, having dragged himself to the book and is now leaning on it with both hands to stay stable, “wanted to test it. See if it could preserve vital organs.” He slowly nods (as if anything in this book makes sense).

“I guess we’ll find out if it worked when I die.” The tremors hurt, rupturing in blows down my torso. Aqua mutters a spell and a fiery glow halos her hands, hovering near my skin. My own personal hearth. I can’t help but imagine doing the same for her one day.

“Anyone else want to take a crack at it or should I drink another one?” Ven says.

Aqua glances over her shoulder and is actually considering it .

“No way,” I say.

She ignores me, reading each bottle as though they’d spill their secrets.

I lean towards her ear, though she’s already swatting me away. “Do you need help choosing one?”

She grabs a curvy vial that looks like it has hips and is filled to the brim with pure white. Defiantly turning to stick her nose up at me, she proudly drinks (a sip), grimacing through the taste. But she keeps tall. As long as the nose stays up.

“Oh shit,” Ven mutters.

“Language,” I say.

We wait for the effect. Nothing happens.

“What do you feel?” I ask.

“Nothing. I feel normal.”

“You’re a liar,” Ven says, throwing pages and scanning pictures, then rustling back to see if he skipped any.

“I am not. Maybe it’s expired.” As soon as she says it, her eyes go wide.

“That doesn’t make any sense. We had immediate effects. Maybe you should drink some more?”

“Don’t be silly.” Aqua shuts the bottle with its topper and gently places it back in its spot. “This was a foolish game, anyway.”

I have to scoff—that’s harsh, even coming from Aqua. “Then why go for it?”

“Because I admire you so much, Terra, when you’re brave enough to go after something I wouldn’t come near. Because I have to match you, maybe outmatch you sometimes, if you get on my nerves. Because sometimes I get scared that I’ve missed out on so much, and I can’t help but wonder if our childhood may be missing something. After everything we’ve lost, I don’t want to be scared of being silly anymore. But… What if I’m a boring slog? I don’t want to be a bore. I want to be daring and fun like you and Ven,” she says in rapid tossed word salad, her hands getting animated the more she talks, pressed to answer questions we didn’t ask.

Ven and I have nothing to say.

“I…” Aqua fusses with her sleeves. “I don’t know why I unloaded all of that.”

“Dramatic, much?” Ven says.

She fists her hips. “Dramatic is when you whine about your dreams so you can avoid chores thinking I wouldn’t call your bluff.”

Ven gapes. “Aqua, you’re mean.”

“I don’t know what’s happening.” She hides her face behind her hands, taking them to her heart and bowing. “Ven, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Something weird is going on.” I take the helm at searching the book, shuffling pages in chunks until I find one with stark white paint, in the shape of curves and waves. “Ven,” I whisper when I read the description. When he looks at me, his impish smile stretches with lists of ideas. I’m right there with him.

A stuffy silence fills the room when we recite it: Truth potion. The person who drinks it cannot help but to answer questions honestly.

Aqua steps back.

She bolts out of the room, knocking some of the books over.

“Get her!” Ven yells.

My muscles protest when I take off, stiff and sluggish as though I’ve experienced a whole winter outside. Aqua dashes through an open doorway and thrusts her arm out. The doors slam together, refusing to let me through. Ven’s going to have to find another way around. This won’t stop me and she knows it. I slip through a growing portal of darkness—the swirls that lick me would have been cold, but I’m numb—and I come out the other side. There’s certain tricks that come from being the poster boy for Darkness; it’s helpful in fights.

This part of the castle leads to the common areas. I know where she’ll be.

Aqua is splitting her attention between mixing batter in a large wooden bowl and running a soapy dishwash in the kitchen sink. When I approach her, she makes a point to put her finger on her lips.

Stars, it’s so hard not to laugh. “You’re not going to—”

She grunts, shaking her head furiously at me. No questions.

With my elbows propped on the countertop, I watch her scrub a dish. More than she normally does, actually, a little therapy session to take her mind off the fact that I’m relishing this moment. It’s satisfying how she suddenly remembers that she’s heating the oven, throwing herself across the kitchen to check the temperature.

She points to the spice cupboard next to me, and gets more enthusiastic when I open it. Apparently, she wants the cinnamon.

“I think vinegar would help better with what you’re doing.” I nod my head to the sink.

With the flick of her hand, water pouring out of the faucet changes direction and splashes me in the face.

“Am I annoying?” I snigger. I had to.

A tick in her shoulders—her body has no choice but to react. “That’s a stupid question.” Every word is pulled out of her teeth. Normally, she’d say, No, how could you even imagine that!

I dip my finger into the suds and plant one large print on her forehead in between the eyes, where she’s glaring so hard, they are crossed.

“How about now?”

“The worst,” she groans, slamming her hands into the bath. She takes a washcloth to dry them and wipes her forehead. Afterwards, she hands it to me.

“Think of it as an opportunity to get to know the real you.” I dry my face.

“You know me already.”

“Do I know everything, though?”

“No.” This potion doesn’t miss a beat.

Ven is panting by the time he enters, climbing a stool behind the counter and peering over the edge like a small child. He’s doing that on purpose, goading her into playing along. He asks me, “Can we?”

She groans.

I’m back on my elbows so I can look up at her and give her the same puppy dog eyes. Between glancing at the two of us, she can’t stand it. She wants to make us happy, she’s always been like that. Then again, she probably also wants to bash our heads together and leave us with headaches. One of the two would amuse her better.

“How about we ask her three questions only? We shouldn’t drive her crazy.”

She chuckles, that little smile of hers growing and reassuring and there. That’s my girl. Turning off the sink, she folds the washcloth and brings her hands together as though we’re in class. “Three questions each. Is that okay?”

Wow. “More than I asked for.”

“I already have one,” Ven says, sitting on his knees. “Do you hate Lea?”

“A little. But I’m working on it.”

Ven snorts and drops his face onto the counter. How many times have we asked her that and got the, Don’t be ridiculous. Like I said, he’s formidable. “I knew it.”

“He does his missions with the least amount of effort possible. Takes the easiest route to build his technique. Efficiency, he calls it,” she says, letting out the hot pressure she’s been keeping to herself with relief. “He also calls me, Teach. Who does that?”

Of all the times I’ve expected Aqua to snap at someone, she holds herself back when it comes to Lea, giving him tight smiles to zip it all up. “Ouch,” I say. “He’s been working so hard on a gift to thank you for working with Isa.”

She grimaces. “At least he has good taste in men? Isa does have a respectable work ethic.”

I pat her hand. Aqua’s usually the one to blow the kettle first, but there’s ways to connect people who may not see eye to eye the first time. Maybe I can be a buffer. “Next time you meet, I could go with you.”

“I’d appreciate that,” she whispers.

“Lea would find it hilarious, honestly.” Ven waves his hand as if it’s no big deal. “I bet he’d give you a note with your gift. It would say, Thanks for everything. I hate you, too, Teach .”

“Okay, my turn,” I say, resting my chin on my palm. She studies me, too, though I’d like to believe I could keep a poker face. “Do you sometimes steal my cologne?”

“Yes.”

Her bluntness throws me back. “To wear ?”

“Yes,” she says as though it’s obvious and crosses her arms. Duh.

“Hey, that’s two questions,” Ven says.

“Sorry.” I take one more glance to see if I could gleam any more clues from her facial expressions, but she keeps her nose high. As long as the nose stays up.

“I have to think of a really good one.” Ven holds his chin, looking more serious than he’s been since the Keyblade War. “Ever farted then blamed Terra for it?”

“Ugh.” Aqua quivers, her knuckles bleaching. She throws her face over her shoulder and stares scars into the wall. “Yes of course, didn’t we all?”

“Come on, I could’ve answered that,” I say (though after all these years, it’s validating to know it’s not a blame game anymore). I nudge her with my shoulder. “Justice does feel pretty good.”

“Ask me something better,” she says after smacking my bicep. Her face is as ripe as sunburn.

Questions that give her more control. I could do that. “Is there anything you’ve been needing to say but haven’t had the chance to yet?”

The tension in her face drops. It leaves something pale and disappointed in its place, a faraway look. I shouldn’t have asked; whatever this fear is, it’s meant for me. “Yes,” she whispers.

I stand pin-straight, the air in the room thinning, as though the Darkness has opened a hole and is sucking all the sun away. Ven does the same. The other Keybearers will stare at their cuticles, or fumble and cut themselves out of the group when they’re upset or hurt or sorry. Eraqus forged a protocol out of us. When we witness or cause harm, we recite what we’ve done and its effects. We bow when we apologize.

So far, we’ve been home for one hundred and seventy five days. Never expected it to take this long. I open my mouth to speak.

“Don’t,” she says softly. “I know what you’re going to ask.”

I would have pleaded with her to let me apologize, and I would have met her dismissal anyway: No, Terra, it’s not necessary. We’ve been through it all. We should enjoy what we have. She means well; the relaxation and the mundane tasks are good for all of us. Even when we were younger, Aqua was generous at her expense, sparing nuts from her brownie to bake them into a tarte, knowing I hate brownies. She’d look at the brighter side of things (More fudge for me!), and stick her tongue out. She’s been my smile, but she gives too much, and we still need this conversation.

“So what is the answer?”

She lowers her eyes to the counter, then wills them back up at me. “I blame myself.”

Aqua.

Ven sighs. “I should give you guys some space.” He treads away, keeping his footsteps minimal, meticulously turning the handle so it’d make the least noise possible. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I see him press his ear against the door before it shuts. If he’s going to listen in, that’s fine with me. Whatever she and I have to say to each other would affect all three of us.

“You blame—”

“I would be… lying.” She simpers, shaking her head. “If I said I never blamed you. There were moments I did. How and why. But I had enough endless nights where those reasons circled back to me. What I could have done to make it better. To save you,” she croaks, wiping her eyes. “To be a best friend. You needed that. Ven needed one, too. And I wasn’t.”

Aqua scrubs the already-clean counter with that dry washcloth, creating a rhythm that fills the silence. The oven is now heated, and I take the cinnamon and pour two spoonfuls of it into a beaker, our backs to each other. Add cups of sugar for her, some cocoa, a pinch of vanilla while she drills the grouts in between the tiles.

“I wasn’t much of a best friend myself, either.”

“You were hurt and defeated.”

“I was stupid.”

“You are not.”

I scoff, reaching over and pausing her. My smile is meant to be gentle, but it feels so plastic. “Aqua, do you think I’m stupid?”

“I don’t.”

I’ve expected her to half-smirk, where she tells me, Sometimes. “Really?”

“You overthink,” she simply puts. “But you assume the best. You know, that makes you a better person than me.”

Ha. No. “No. I’m not better than you. Not by a long shot.”

She hums. “I’m just correct more often.”

“But I left you.”

“And I kicked your trust in me in the shins. Are we going to keep count of all the unfriendly things we’ve done? How different would it have been if I didn’t accuse you of things that weren’t true?”

“How different would it be if I had just stayed with you?” I realize I shouldn’t have asked the moment I finish.

In a trance, Aqua inspects the beaker with the spices and sugars I’ve concocted, deciding what I’d done is good enough and dumping them into her unmixed dough, stirring, giving her hands something to do, while I wait for the onslaught. “Probably avoided the last twelve years.” I wince. “Or it could have made no difference. We could have ended up the same, or worse, or better.”

I say, “You don’t believe that,” before stopping myself.

“I was taught to respect Xehanort, too.”

“We were taught to recognize the Darkness.”

“Which I also failed at.”

“Clearly.”

“I did. I looked for it inside you where I should have placed my faith instead. I regret every moment I did.” She puts the bowl down, a slap of wood against marble. “We don’t help ourselves by obsessing about it a million times.”

“But you’d help me if you let me apologize. To you especially.”

She whips around with nothing to retort, fresh tears short of falling. “To me especially?”

“Ven deserves something of his own. Please.”

She drops her hands together. Swallows. Nods.

I bow, watching droplets land near my shoes. “I should have been there for you. I should have been stronger. I should have realized what was happening sooner, and I thought I did. I thought I did what I could, and I was there with you in the Graveyard, but it wasn’t enough, and for all the years I didn’t know, I should have found a way to learn and pay you back for what you’ve sacrificed for me. I should have eased your pain, I should have brought you back to the Light. I was focused on myself when I should have lifted you up, and I disappeared when you needed me most. I should have done more, and I’m sorry I didn’t.”

Silence passes the time and I look up to see what she thinks. She’s wetting the washcloth, dabbing my eyes. “Do you feel better?” she asks.

“Kind of.” I’m beat up after taking all those shots, but I’m lighter, free to breathe without the nagging suspicion that I don’t deserve to.

“One of the things I wished for when I was in the Realm of Darkness was to smell sugar again. I wanted to hear you give me a list of reasons why it’s bad for my body, and I wanted to tell you why it’s good for the heart.” I let her dab my cheeks, the dampness frigid against my skin. “Now that I’m back home, I don’t need any other wish granted.” She sniffs, about to pour the batter into its mold, but then flicks the oven off exasperatedly. “I forgot. I have to wait for the dough to rise.” For some reason that finally breaks her. It tears me apart as well, and I have to hold her shoulder so we don’t rip down the middle.

“Please don’t cry,” I say, offering the washcloth. “I care too much about you to sit here and watch you cry.”

She stops. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing.” I let go and stare at her blended mix, smooth as cream.

“That’s not fair,” she says, throwing the washcloth onto the counter. “I have no choice with what I say. You could at least answer me honestly.”

“I don’t want to be the reason you cry anymore.” Nor do I want to tell her the truth. Instead I hide it on the back of my neck, where I rub into it so it doesn’t spill over. And yet, that makes me feel more guilty now than I have in weeks.

“I should make you swallow a truth potion.”

“I wanted us to be equals.” She saves her usual response and waits for me to continue. I close my eyes. “Go through all the same experiences with you. We were supposed to stick together, do everything together. Failing the Mark of Mastery took all of that away from me. Or at least it felt that way at the time. And I wanted more. I wanted…” My hand finds nothing as it waves in the air searching for the words to spell it out. “I don’t know what to say. Everything I’ve done and didn’t do pale in comparison to you.”

“We’re not doing this. We’re not comparing ourselves.”

“No, I mean…” What the stars am I supposed to say? “You’re more important to me than you understand.”

“And you’re just as important to me.”

“No… it’s different with me.” And I’ve said too much, Aqua holding her elbows and expecting me to continue. There’s no other trail to go down than the one I’ve started. “I meant what I said at the preliminary feast.”

“Excuse me?”

The feast where the Master celebrated our achievements, announcing that we’re at last ready for the final test. Where Ven and I squeezed ourselves into suits and he complained the entire night about being itchy. Where I spent it staring at her dress. When I said she looked pretty and then avoided her for the rest of the party.

I don’t say anything about that night and she hears something anyway.

“That’s why…” She glosses over me with wide eyes as the realization makes me look like a stranger. “You should have said something to me.”

“You can’t be serious.” I wave her away.

“But all these years, I didn’t know.”

Good, if we’re talking about the same thing. “I couldn’t have told you anything.”

“Then how was I supposed to figure that out?”

What are we talking about now? “What exactly did you expect me to do?”

“You should have kissed me.” She covers her mouth, wincing at what slipped out. She keeps her chin high anyway, casually crossing her arms and pretending that her face hasn’t reddened the deep shade staining her cheeks. As long as it stays up.

We pass an unspoken conversation between each other, frozen and unwilling to move.

Did you just—?

I did.

I manage to exhale. “You’re right.”

There’s a moment of shock on her face before I hold her and lean forward. It happens so quick that I don’t register what she tastes like before I realize that I’m clamping my hands on her biceps, two bent rods leaning on each other.

“That was awful,” I say.

“No, it’s—” she laughs.

“Bad.”

“Yeah.”

“I always thought it’d go different.”

“Always?”

Well, I’ve run out of words. “I guess.” When I let her go, she reaches for my chest and lifts onto her toes, kissing me back but with care and intention this time, filling my lips with hers. They taste like Aqua, smell like her shampoo. They’re softer than her hands and face, sweet enough for me to want more. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with my hands until I settle them in the sway of her back. I let her take the lead, take another kiss, tug at my neck. She trembles from the frozen touch of my skin and from the hold of my hands on her body. My muscles are getting warm, too warm but I like it and I think she knows. Earlier this morning, I held her this close, but this is closer. It’s easy and difficult at the same time.

Then I remember and pull away. “Ven is listening to us.”

There’s a bump on the door as it’s pushed when he kicks himself off, heavy footsteps running down the hall.

Aqua looks like she’s touched feces. “Ven!”

I follow her, wondering if she’s going to summon her Keyblade but that’s because of how fast she’s walking, like she has a mission, no Heartless left standing. We turn a corner, down a hall of antique vases and ancient cupboards carved from our first masters. Wood creaks nearby.

She holds her palm up like she’s holding a chalice, and flames lick the cupboard closest to us until it rattles and spits Ven out. He scrambles onto his feet and brandishes his finger, testing our distance as if he’d poke us in a duel.

“I still have my last question and it’s in your best interest not to threaten me.”

“Oh really? Tell me again how you’re going to protect yourself when you sleep,” she says.

He grounds himself before giving his performance of, “Do you want to see Terra naked?”

Aqua trembles from her head to her knees, her cheeks blotting a strong shot of red. She throttles forward and cups both of her hands onto her mouth like she’s going to sneeze. What sounds like a loud goose honk blows out as the answer.

“That was awesome.” Ven slaps his thigh, turning on his heel and leaving a trail of giggles.

I’m scared to say anything, in case she honks at me. So I wait. There’s just no way to make myself seem small, or leave without disturbing her. Maybe if I hold my breath, she’d feel like she has privacy. She’s panting, giving me side glances but never looking directly at me, that nose of hers wilting towards the floor.

I open my mouth to say something—

She growls and I clutch my lips together. Aqua pulls her Gummiphone out of her pocket, jabbing a message.

Mine rings.

Aqua

Let’s find a potion that dyes his hair pink

She clears her throat, before flipping it over and typing again.

Aqua

Don’t tell him it was my idea

“Okay,” I say, testing the word. Even though I soften it, it still bangs like a gong. I don’t know what else to do except smile at her. She grimaces back, no doubt the last several words spoken still ringing in her ears, just as they do in mine. I even hesitate when I hold her elbow—would it ever be the same, or will every touch mean something different? I don’t voice those questions.

She moves by reflex: first to flinch, then to hold me by my elbow, mirroring me, which isn’t the most comfortable position. She follows my forearm to my hand, knitting our fingers together, and we stand there, adjusting how they fit. Mine are long and thick, dwarfing and burying hers, an oversized pouch for a gem. They fit perfectly, I think.

“We can find something better,” I say, looking for anything to distract her. “There’s also those books to read, and the robe to fix. The brownies you’re making—”

“It’s supposed to be cinnamon bread,” she mumbles.

Yech. “Nothing I’d eat anyway.”

Her chuckle is partial, contorted and pressed.

“I can make some beef jerky for everyone. Spice it up,” I say. She hides an amused whimper behind her hand and massages her cheek. “We don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to.”

She nods, offering me a relieved but crooked smile.

I don’t know if we should walk the castle hand in hand, so I splay it between her shoulder blades and lead the way. We walk in silence, and I’m okay with that if it helps her. No questions, her head up high like everything is back to normal. We steal glances and do a terrible job at hiding our giggles behind small talk, which is botched and jittery anyway, but there’s not much to say without asking, So… how old were you when you realized?

One of these nights, I’ll tell her I’d like to see her naked, too, when the time is right and the truth comes easier.

#terraqua #terra #aqua #ventus #kingdom hearts fanfic #kh fanfic #oooooooh #here is my attempt at domestic fluff #what is everyone going to think of me #my fic

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downondilaudid · 4 years

Text

Eighteen

Spencer and reader are childhood friends, the reader coaxes Spencer into attending her high school reunion, but not for the reason he was expecting.

HUGE THANKS to @hkinmydna we wrote this together, and I couldn’t have done it without her, I love her so much <3

Requested: @jellijinnie

Prompts: “I can’t wait to grow old with you.” & “I have loved you since we were eighteen.”

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Fluff

“Guys are accessories, until one proves he's a necessity” - Source unknown

Dear Spencer,

I received your last letter, I’m so glad to hear Diana is doing well! Business at the bakery has been pretty slow. But, it’s almost wedding season, so business will pick up soon! I mean, nothing ever truly slows down in Vegas. Speaking of Vegas, my high school reunion is coming up, and I’m absolutely dreading it.

High school was an absolute nightmare, I’m sure the same goes for you. Lydia, a friend of mine from high school, is begging me to go. I’m just not sure, everyone’s going to be married, with kids, and I own a fucking bakery, Spencer. On top of that, my love life is dead, I won't even have a date. I’m not sure who I would ask, I can’t even pay a man to date me.

Enough about my boring problems, how’s life at the BAU? I hope it’s not too stressful, I know how hard it can be on you.

Yours Sincerely,

Y/N.

•••

Dear Y/N,

I’m sure your job has its own thrills. You’re right about the bakery business booming soon; June is the most popular month for weddings, with 10.8% occurring during that time. Studies also show that brides typically focus the most attention on planning their attire, closely followed by their caterer. Not to mention, Las Vegas happens to have the most weddings per year, at over 114,000, so I assume your bakery will be in high demand in the next month.

I happen to remember Lydia, actually. She had bright red highlights in her hair when she graduated high school. It really stuck out to me when you let me look through your yearbook. I think you should go. You’re obviously pining for a date, though, so it seems that maybe I should pay our old high school a visit. Since I’d love to accompany you anyway, I might as well get some closure.

The BAU is the same as always, but I could use a break. Send me the details of the reunion, maybe?

Sincerely,

Spencer.

•••

You checked the gate number multiple times, A24, A24, A24. Your head tilted up, eyes searching for the big blue sign. Shit, A22, definitely the wrong gate.

“Ugh, goddammit” you cursed, your hand wrapping around the gear shift, throwing your car into drive, a little more aggressively than needed. You placed your hands on the wheel, ten and two, anxiety rolling off you in waves. You shouldn't have been this nervous, you had known Spencer all your life.

It started when you were nine. Your mom had finally decided to let you roller skate to the park a few blocks away, much to your father’s disapproval, and it stirred up crazy anticipation in you. This was going to be your first big adventure as a big girl. As soon as you left the driveway, you felt adrenaline pump through your veins. You had skated to the park a million times, but this time had been different. When you arrived, the park was mostly deserted, aside from a frail, pale boy sitting at a chess table.

You pulled off your skates, bounding across the grass excitedly. As a child you’d always been friendly, maybe a little too friendly.

“Hey!” You greeted, plopping into the chair opposite of the boy.

The boy didn’t respond, too deep in thought, his tongue darting out to lick his pink lips.

“Whatcha’ doing?” You questioned, propping your elbows on the table, letting your head rest in your hands.

“Chess” the boy replied simply, he seemed too interested in the game to even make eye contact.

“You know it’s rude not to make eye contact. That’s what my mom always tells me.”

The boy looked up, his big, black glasses sliding ever so slightly down the bridge of his nose. “97% of school-aged children learn their manners from home. It’s the number one factor of civility. Did you know that?”

“Civil-what?” You were pretty sure this kid didn’t speak English.

“Civility is basically etiquette,” he elaborated slowly, giving you the most basic definition he could think of. “It means you learn your manners from your parents. Later on in life it’ll help you develop your own moral compass.”

You just blinked, this kid was definitely not from earth, and was definitely not speaking English. But you sat there anyway, letting him speak his mind and listening intently, although you didn’t understand all of it. He also began teaching you chess that day, since he saw you as an opportunity to play with an actual partner instead of studying the board alone.

From then on you and Spencer were attached by the hip, you were enamored with his vast knowledge of the world, and he enjoyed teaching you.

You jumped when a knock resounded through the car, “Holy-Jesus, fuck.” Your hand flew to your chest in shock, your head whipping to the right to see who so rudely brought you out of your pensive state.

Spencer stood at the window, a smile on his face, you could tell he was laughing. His intention definitely wasn’t to scare you, but he enjoyed it nonetheless. The shock wore off, and with the shake of your head you were laughing too. You unlocked the car, your previous anxiety fading away.

“You should’ve seen your face!” Spencer giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, get in, Rooks.” You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face.

“Actually, did you know, every chess piece was meant to have symbolism, and the rook was the walls of the castle or the chariot. Calling it a castle is outdated, though.” He smirked a bit. “So what does it mean when you call me Rooks?”

Your smile dropped slightly, attempting to think of a snide response. “I-I guess I just thought it sounded cool,” you came up with on the spot. “How was your flight?” You diverted.

“I have to admit, it’s a little different than a government-issued private jet,” he said with a chuckle.

“Oh, you and your fancy private jets. You’re too lucky, traveling around the world every week and all. I guess it’s not all that glamorous, though.” You grimaced, thinking about all the bodies he sees on a regular basis. He replied with only a smile and a nod.

The rest of the drive was filled with chatter and inside jokes, and of course Spencer ranting about every topic.

…

Spencer stumbled through your front door, his weariness becoming more and more obvious. “Please let me help you with your bags,” you begged him, but he denied that he needed help for the third time.

“I’ve got it, Skates. Trust me.” He looked you straight in the eye, and you had to back down.

“Fine, suit yourself” you mumbled, opening the door to reveal a flight of stairs. You smiled slightly at his use of your little childhood nickname.

The trip up the stairs was… memorable, Spencer still refusing your help. He was so chivalrous sometimes.

“So, there’s only one bed, but I can take the couch.” you mumbled, picking up a stray jacket you missed during your cleaning frenzy.

“Y/N, I’ll take the couch, I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch in your own home.” He had always been so insistent, even since you were children. It’s not that he had to get his way, but he had strong feelings that he couldn’t ever seem to shove aside. As much as you wanted to argue and be a good host, there was no arguing with Spencer Walter Reid. You nodded and went back downstairs, beginning to tidy up the pull-out couch for him.

“So, what exactly is your plan for the reunion?” He asked while you fluffed up a pillow.

“Well I was hoping you could help me with that, Rooks. Put that big beautiful brain of yours to use.” You replied, a playful smile on your face. He grinned shyly, not sure how to reply at first.

“Did you know, on average, only around 20% to 30% of graduating students will attend their high school reunions.” Spencer stated. You paused, recognizing he was nervous. He may have been the profiler between the two of you, but you understood his behavior almost like the back of your hand.

“I guess I’m part of that 20% then.” you said absentmindedly. “I’m still so hesitant about going, Spence. Everyone’s going to be married, and successful, and all they’re going to do is rub it in my face!”

“Well, there’s no rule about these things that you have to be honest necessarily,” he said, implication looming behind it.

“What are you saying?” you had an idea of what he was hinting at, but, you would never blatantly ask him.

“I mean, we’ve been best friends for all our lives, would it be so wrong for us to act like a couple? People would totally believe it, and then you wouldn’t feel so alienated.”

Bingo. “Spencer, I couldn’t possibly put you in that situation. You’ve already flown all the way out here to accompany me to a fucking high school reunion!” A pang of guilt ran through your bones, you had him right where you wanted him, but, he didn’t have to know that.

“I’m already out here, why not have some fun with it? Come on, I want to see how people react.” He really had a knack for being convincing, but you didn’t need him to tell you twice. You were really excited to carry out this plan.

“Well, I guess we could mess with people,” you said with a sly smile. “How does fiancé sound to you?”

Your nerves were back, you don’t think you’d ever been this dressed up in front of Spencer in your entire life. You were definitely slightly overdressed, but no one said you couldn’t look nice. Besides, it gave you a boost of confidence, which you would totally use to the best of your abilities.

You looked in the mirror one last time, adjusting a few stray hairs, and confirming your lipstick wasn’t smudged. You twisted the ring on your left ring finger, it felt foreign, but it looked beautiful. It was your grandmother's old ring, it had a gold, double band, with a single large diamond perched right on top. It was Spencer’s idea to pass it off as an engagement ring. You finally felt your plan starting to fall into place.

He met you in the corridor, looking well-dressed and as smug as ever. It had been forever since the two of you got to spend some quality together, much less have your own little adventure.

You grabbed your purse and slung it over your shoulder, urging Spencer to follow you out your front door and to the car. He quickly beat you to the driver’s side door, opening it for you. “God, you can’t resist being a gentleman for even a minute, can you?”

He smiled softly, like he always did, and hopped into the passenger seat eagerly.

…

As excited as you were to play domestic life with Spencer, watching your past friends and acquaintances walk into the event center with husbands and wives on their arms definitely stirred up some nerves.

“Spencer, I don’t know if I can do this.” You admitted.

“Absolutely not, Skates. You didn’t drag me all the way out here just to bail at the last second.” With that, Spencer opened his door, stepping out of the car. He once again beat you to the door, opening it before you could barely get your hand on the handle.

“Fuck you,” you said, grabbing his hand, allowing him to help you out of the car.

A smirk crossed his face, “I’m sure you have, we are engaged after all.”

Jesus. Fucking. Christ. This was going to be a long night.

The confidence he gave you was apparent, because you nearly strutted into the venue with Spencer hanging off your arm like an accessory. You could get used to this. The reunion was at an event center: the same one where both your proms were held and all four homecoming dances. It was still familiar-looking as the two of you walked in, greeting the doorman warmly.

The first person to approach you, coincidentally, was Lydia. Her once vibrant red hair now an elegant black, she looked spectacular. “Y/N!” She practically screamed, throwing her arms around you in a bone-crushing hug. You hugged her back almost as tightly. Although you’d continued living in Vegas after high school, almost nobody else you were friends with had done the same. It felt nostalgic to get a piece of normality back from your past.

“I’m so glad you forced me to come,” you admitted to her.

“I’m glad I did too,” she agreed, her eyes flitting from you to your arm piece. “And who’s this?” Her grin was smug and prying for all the juicy details.

“This is my fiancé, Spencer Reid,” you said and patted his arm lightly with your free hand. He didn’t budge, almost as if it were a natural move for you to make.

“FIANCÉ?!” Lydia bubbled with excitement. “It’s about time we met then!” Her hand jutted out for a handshake.

Spencer laughed nervously, “the number of pathogens passed during a handshake is staggering, it’s actually safer to kiss.”

“Oh, okay” Lydia giggled, turning to you, “he’s charming.”

You laughed, covering your mouth slightly, “you’ll have to excuse him; he's not a flirt, he’s just a certified genius, IQ of 187 and all.”

Lydia’s eyes lit up in shock. “Are you kidding? Stop pulling my leg, Y/N, you’re gonna make me jealous and upset that I didn’t bring a living encyclopedia along,” she scoffed.

“I’m dead serious,” you said brightly, glancing over at Spencer. Pride filled your body somehow, although part of this situation wasn’t even the truth.

“You know, the black hair suits you. Red highlights weren’t really your style,” Spencer said as an attempt to compliment Lydia.

Lydia stared at him blankly. “How did you know I had highlights in high school?” She asked nervously, glancing at you in confusion. Spencer immediately realized his mistake.

“Oh, well, I’m sorry I just saw your picture in Y/N’s yearbook one time and… I have an eidetic memory, actually, which causes me to-“

“He has the memory of an elephant,” you cut him off with a smile. Lydia laughed it off, but you could tell she was slightly uneasy.

“He didn’t need anything else to fill his resume. God, next you’re gonna tell me he’s a lawyer or something.”

“Well, actually I work for the FBI. I’m a behavioral analyst,” he corrected her innocently. You nudged him in the arm a little too roughly, letting him know he was going a little overboard.

“Sorry. He’s been needing to work on his humility,” you joked.

Lydia laughed along, “it’s so great to see you again, Y/N, if you’ll excuse me for a moment I’m going to get a drink.” She smiled, before sashaying away to the beverage table.

Spencer turned to you, brows furrowed, mouth open, ready to spout something off.

Just then, your view of Spencer was obstructed by an overly perky brunette with a sickeningly sweet smile, “Y/N” she screeched.

Fuck fucking fuck. “Claire!” You exclaimed, a look of panic on your face, eyes flashing between Claire and Spencer, silently begging for his help.

“How are you? You look great!” she said. Just then a man approached her, one of his arms wrapping loosely around her waist.

“I-I’m good! H-how about you?” fuck, where was Spencer.

“We are great,” the man responded, pressing a kiss to Claire’s cheek. She giggled, patting his chest affectionately.

“I’m sorry this is my boyfriend Liam, you’ll have to excuse him, he can never seem to keep his hands off me!”

This bitch is dead. You laughed awkwardly praying to every god above Spencer would come to your rescue.

“It’s not my fault, how am I supposed to control myself when you look so irresistible?” Liam chuckled, one hand coming up to grasp Claire’s chin, pecking her lips lightly.

You looked at every corner for Spencer, needing him there to reassure you. As if on cue, he appeared from behind Claire and Liam, carrying two red solo cups delicately.

“Sorry I disappeared for a bit, sweetheart, I grabbed you some punch,” he said and pressed the cup into your palm, seeming to notice how uncomfortable you were. You smiled at him in response, seeing your chance and immediately taking it.

“Claire, this is my fiancé, Spencer.” You gestured to him and pulled him to you like a security blanket. “Spence, this is Claire and Liam,” you introduced smugly. One-upping Claire felt intoxicatingly good.

“Oh, how lovely!” She responded, “then you know how it is, always a hassle to get them out of the house! Liam’s away with work so much I barely see him!”

“Oh, what do you do, Liam?” You questioned.

“He’s a firefighter! Always away saving people’s lives, my Liam” Claire butted in, her hand coming up to adjust Liam’s tie.

“Actually, Spencer is always away on business too. He’s an FBI agent, which always has him taking cases in unpredictable places,” you explained, emphasizing the FBI agent part. Spencer looked at you with a hint of concern, and you knew he thought you were being too flamboyant. It served Claire right though, she’d been a total bitch to you ever since middle school. The way Spencer looked at you felt wrong, though. His face had fallen to almost a frown.

“Oh, wow, that’s spectacular! You really understand then, it’s so hard having Liam away, especially when he’s going back to college to get his masters degree, I never see him anymore!” Claire blurted, linking her arm with Liam’s.

You copied her movement, doing the same with Spencer, “Oh I completely understand, Spencer has three PHD’s, so I get it.” You flashed Claire a bright smile, so this is how she wants to play?

Claire’s smile dropped for a fraction of a second, springing back ten times brighter.

Spencer shot you a look, bringing you back to reality. You knew you were being petty, but you had dreamed about this moment since the seventh fucking grade. It was playing out like a dream; you had on a gorgeous dress with a gorgeous fiancé (he was kind of gorgeous, wasn't he?) and you got to give Claire a taste of her own medicine.

Claire’s eye twitched slightly, as she turned to Spencer, “wow, you must be a very smart man!”

You reached your hand up to wrap around Spencer’s tie, pulling him impossibly closer to you before answering, “he is, I’m a very lucky woman.” With that you did something neither of you were expecting, using his tie, you pulled his head to yours, pressing your lips lightly against his.

Spencer’s eyes widened slightly, before fluttering shut, you felt his large hand on the small of your back, pulling you into him. You pulled away, and for a moment, you forgot this was fake, for a moment this was your reality, he was your fiancé. You smiled up at him, an unreadable expression of his face, “I can’t wait to grow old with you.”

Spencer’s face fell in shock. Maybe the kiss finally connected an unspoken bond between the two of you, but this came from nowhere. His eyes held something behind them, rage maybe? You hoped Claire couldn’t notice the uncomfortable tension building between the two of you.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” she said awkwardly, pulling Liam by the arm as a cue to get the hell out of there. Damn. She felt it too. “I hope you and your fiancé have a nice night,” she smiled, but there was a bite of bitterness in it. Somehow it felt like you hadn’t gotten the last laugh after all as she left you standing next to Spencer. He was right beside you, but felt impossibly far away.

“Can we step outside for a minute?”, he asked with a gulp. Fuck.

“Yeah, yeah, of course.” You muttered, wiping your clammy palms down the sides of your dress. Spencer’s hand wrapped around your arm, guiding you to the door.

The cool Vegas air hit you both like a freight train, like a calm notion before the storm. As soon as you were secluded Spencer turned to you, a fire burning in his dark eyes.

“What was that about?”, he asked you in a soft but forceful tone.

“Wasn’t this our plan, Spence? It was your idea to do this so why are you suddenly uncomfortable doing shit that couples would do?” Your face was burning hot with frustration.

“No, this isn’t what couples would do. This is what you would do to prove yourself to some stupid high school bully. It’s gross,” he spat at you.

You ran a hand through your hair, definitely ruining the elaborate curls that took you an hour and a half. “Are you kidding me? Are you profiling me? At my high school reunion?”

“It doesn’t take a profiler to realize you’re trying to prove you’re not incompetent, Y/N.” Spencer growled, his voice escalating. “I mean, why did you even mention the reunion in your letter if you didn’t want me to invite myself? You knew I would, and I feel like you’re just using me as a way to make yourself look better.” The last part of his sentence loomed over you and made the air stiffer. He paused before continuing, “I’m not here to be your accessory or your trophy or whatever the fuck you want me to be. I came because I thought it would mean a lot to you and I wanted to be here for you, but obviously you just wanted to use me to prove a point over a high school grudge.”

Your breath caught in your throat, eyes welling with tears of frustration. You let out a groan, pushing your hair out of your face once again, “God, Spencer, I have loved you since we were eighteen.”

Spencer was so aggravated that he was still breathing heavily, not able to reply immediately. Several emotions crossed his face: confusion, frustration, doubt, and relief.

“Why do you think I own a business alone, and live alone, and never settle down, but still keep my little childhood best friend as a penpal? Has it never added up to you, Spence? I’ve loved you since we were kids! Some profiler you are,” you ended with a smirk.

Spencer initiated the kiss this time, his hand swiftly grabbing your cheek and pressing his lips to yours with a hunger you’d never expected from the timid boy at the park. Your lips moved together in sync, you let your hands travel up his chest, wrapping loosely around the back of his neck.

You both pulled away, breathless, eyes meeting once more. Spencer grasped your chin lightly, “since we were kids, huh? Then prove it.” He whispered.

“Alright,” you smiled. “Let’s get out of here.” You took his hand and led him to your car, hopping in the front seat confidently and turning the key in the ignition. Spencer pulled himself into the passenger seat and you began to pull away from the event center to a familiar part of town.

“I think I like where this is headed.” Spencer’s grin widened and you couldn’t help but take your eyes off the road for a moment to bask in the glory of his genuine smile.

You pulled the car into the completely empty parking lot of the park, turning off the car and letting yourself out. The two of you passed by the swings and slides instinctively and walked straight to one of the most significant places in Las Vegas; the chess board.

You sat down in the chair, nostalgia running through your veins, Spencer sat opposite of you. “I may not have an eidetic memory, but I'll never forget the first time I laid my eyes on you. The lonely boy at the park, playing chess, of all things. There was never a specific moment I fell in love with you, it sort of just accumulated over the years. From your caring nature, and knack to put everyone’s needs before your own, to your gorgeous child-like smile that can light up the darkest of rooms, or the tender way you care for your mom, or children- God, Spence, your kids are going to be so lucky. One of my favorite things about you is your humility, Spencer, you are incredible, you’re a certified genius, and I don’t think I’ve heard you boast about your intelligence once in my entire life! Spencer, you are so special, there will never be another man on earth like you, and I’m sorry for making you feel like an accessory tonight, I guess I just enjoyed being in a relationship with you, even if it was fake. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I love you, Spencer, and I will never love anyone the way I love you.”

He looked down with a shy smile. “Way to inflate my ego, Y/N,” he said with a chuckle. “You may have stumbled into my life, but I’m glad you did. I love you with every ounce that I can.”

You looked at the chess board in front of you. “So, what now?”

“Now” Spencer said, standing up, dusting off his slacks. He held his hand out to you, and you took it giddily. “We go visit my mom.”

You giggled, ”you’re such a mama’s boy, Rooks.”

Spencer laughed as you began your walk back to the car, “yeah yeah, just don’t use me as an accessory this time,” he nudged you playfully with his arm.

A smile fell permanently on your face, “trust me, you’re the finest accessory I’ve ever owned.”

Spencer smiled, stopping momentarily to pull you in for a quick kiss. “I love you, Skates.”

You beamed at him, hoping to commit this moment to memory, “I love you more, Rooks.”

#criminal minds #criminalminds #spencer #spencer reid #fluff #fanfic #spencerreid #bau

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aricazorel · 3 years

Text

I was tagged by @ripley95 for Fic Flashback Friday. Thank you!

Messages is a story I wrote a couple of years ago about Kora (Kori) Reese but only began posting it on AO3 in March 2020. It centered around the idea of a female character being part of the original Normandy crew and developing a relationship with Kaidan Alenko. While it actually takes place during the months before the beginning of Mass Effect 3, it details some of their relationship during ME1 and 2 and how they went from crew mates to friends to lovers to ex-flames. and eventually getting back together. I've since written a sequel called Broken Road and a plethora of prompts about their relationship.

I am a huge F!Shenko fan but the idea of Kori kept popping up whenever I went to write Mas Effect. I know first hand that Kaidan is not the most popular romance in the fandom (sometimes problematic for some people even) and pairing him with an OC that is not Shepard almost ensures your story is never going to be a popular one. But they have found an audience with some people and I'm happy with that. I write for me and if you happen to like it too, awesome.

So to introduce Kori and Kaidan here is Chapter 5 of Messages in its entirety. Or you can read Messages from the beginning here on AO3.

Tuesday June 27, 2186 CE, Vancouver-Seattle megaplex, Earth

Reese glanced around the café Kaidan had suggested they meet at. It was in the commercial district of the Vancouver-Seattle megaplex and very busy. It had taken her 25 minutes just to get to the café and make sure it was the right one after the air taxi had dropped her off. She hated crowds almost as much as Kaidan did, but he had insisted they had the best cappuccinos in the city. He had grown up there so he must know. At least she hoped…

She sat at a table for two in the corner waiting for the Major to appear. He was usually the one early and she late but not this time. The Lt. Cmdr. was starting to wonder if he had begun to have second thoughts; she had. But she still came.

Reese glanced at the chrono on her omni-tool. Fifteen minutes late. Did she call him? Message him? Leave a note with the waiter? Just leave and forget about the whole thing?

She let out a frustrated growl as she propped her forehead against her hand. Could things possibly get more complicated? Suddenly her omni-tool signaled that she had a message. Sighing she opened it up guessing it was a ‘sorry couldn’t make it’ text. The holo screen popped up and read, “Look up.”

Frowning the tech glanced up to find a tee shirt and blue jean clad Kaidan Alenko standing before her. He smiled down at her as he held onto a black leather jacket slung over his shoulder. “Hey there.”

“Hey yourself,” she replied as she scooted the opposite chair out for him with her foot. “You’re late, Alenko.”

“Would you believe traffic?” he asked hopefully as he eyed her own outfit. She wore a pair of jeans too but sported a blue tank top covered by a fitted jean jacket. The sentinel’s appreciative gaze was not lost on her.

She decided to give him a break and replied, “I’ll believe you. It took me a while too.”

An expression of relief appeared on his face as he asked, “Thanks. Have you ordered anything?”

“No. That would have been rude,” Reese replied with a smile as she noticed Kaidan was still ‘taking in the view.’ “Is there something I can help you with, Major? You seem to be concentrating very hard on something…”

Kaidan’s face instantly turned red as he cleared his throat. “I, umm, couldn’t help but notice how amazing you look…”

She cocked an eyebrow as she brought up the virtual menu. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said as he started looking at the screen. After a moment he glanced back at her and asked, “So you’re not going to hit me?”

Reese snorted and said, “No, I’m not going to hit you, you big baby.”

Kaidan began to protest the name-calling and she added softly, “You were being nice…”

“It was more than being nice, Reese. I meant it. You look beautiful,” he said sincerely as he watched her play with her hair. She wore the long dark locks in a loose side pony tail. Her hair was nearly down to her waist now. Three years ago it had only been to just below her shoulders.

Kaidan grinned as he realized as much as things had changed many things had stayed the same. They sat in silence for several long minutes, each keying in their orders. Finally, after the menu disappeared, she said, “You’re looking good too, Kaidan. Actually it’s given several of the girls I work with plenty of gossip fodder.”

He looked at her closely and said, “You’re…embarrassed. Aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that,” the tech denied without looking him in the eye.

“You didn’t have to. Everything else did,” he replied with a smirk. “Kora Reese is actually embarrassed.”

“No and don’t use that name,” she snapped.

Kaidan held up his hand in surrender. “Okay. Fine. You’re uncomfortable then, Lt. Cmdr. But why?”

“Kaidan…”

“Don’t Kaidan me. We’ve been talking for months and now I find out you’re uncomfortable. Embarrassed more likely and I’m the cause of it,” Alenko snapped as he slumped against the back of his chair.

“No, that’s not it…I just…I’ve never liked people knowing my business I guess,” Reese replied quietly. “I’m not…They’ve seen me talking to you on the vid chat and I got used to working alone except Tali…and she doesn’t tease…a lot…I just don’t—I didn’t mean—“

“Reese, you’re rambling,’ Alenko said calmly, his own annoyance subsiding.

She looked at him with cloudy grey eyes. “I don’t want to fight, Kaidan. I just want to…spend time with you, get to know you again.”

“I want that too, Reese,” he replied reaching across the table with an opened hand.

She looked into his whiskey colored eyes and then at his hand. Smiling she took it and said, “It’s a step.”

“Baby steps, remember?” he said as their order arrived.

She nodded. Maybe old wounds could heal…

“So is this the end of our ‘coffee’ date then?” Kaidan asked as he kicked the pavement with his boot.

“Well, technically yes, but I…it’s doesn’t really have to be…” Reese replied slowly as she looked at his boot. He did look really good out of uniform…

Alenko snapped his head up to look at the Lt. Cmdr. in surprise. “What does that mean?”

She looked up shyly at him. “I…I’m not exactly sure but I don’t think I want to end our date just yet.”

“Reese, I don’t want to push—“

“Kaidan, you were never able to push me into anything…except maybe a wall and that lead to other things…” she interrupted and then trailed off as soon as she remembered what she was saying.

The Major hesitantly reached for her hand and offered, “We could go somewhere else. It’s still light out. There’s a park…and a beach but that’s too far—“

“We’ve been to a park and I’m not going to the beach without a swim suit,” she replied as he started to withdraw his hand.

“We could go back to one of our places…” she added as she grabbed his hand.

“Reese, I’m not sure that’s…”

“Kaidan, if you don’t want to—“

“Oh no, Reese, I didn’t say that. It’s just…after everything…”

“Kaidan, we both said we wanted another chance, but we have to be able to take hold of it…”

Suddenly she found herself pulled into Kaidan’s strong embrace, one hand wrapped tightly around her waist, the other cradling the base of her head. She felt his five o’clock shadow graze her face as he lightly kissed her cheek. Reese found herself returning the embrace without hesitation and sighed.

After what seemed like an eternity, Kaidan whispered into her ear, “We’re drawing attention, Kori.”

She pulled away and looked around. Apparently the passersby had nothing better to do than stare, but Reese thought that she heard Kaidan’s name repeated several times. She snorted and said softly, “I think you’ve got a fanbase, Major.”

He looked around more closely himself and retorted, “Maybe they like the hot chick I’m with.”

“Don’t call me a chick, techboy,” she cautioned as he began leading her by the hand away towards an air taxi call point.

“I love it when you’re bossy,” Kaidan said as he signaled for a taxi.

She laughed and replied, “Patience, techboy, patience.”

Alenko woke up in an unfamiliar place on an unfamiliar couch with something warm next to him. He blinked back the sleep and glanced beside him. He found Reese spooned up against him, her head resting on his shoulder, her hair spilling across his chest. He reached down and caressed her check. They had fallen asleep at her apartment watching old 20th century movies.

She stirred slightly and then smiled. “Kaid.”

He couldn’t help but smile at the use of her nick name for him. He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “I’m here, Kori.”

“Don’t leave,” she said sleepily, curling up to him.

He couldn’t decide if she was awake or not. He wasn’t sure what to say. Everything had been so jumbled and then he’d run into her by chance and now here he was on her couch with her. Instead he settled for hugging her tightly to his chest as he ran a hand through her long dark hair. He had missed playing with the long-tangled tresses. The few times they had truly been alone he had even brushed it for her which usually led to something else. He’d never admit to anyone how much of a thing he had for her long hair, but it wasn’t like it was a secret to her.

As he continued to play with her wavy locks, she stirred again. This time she opened her eyes and smiled at him. Her grey eyes were calm and content as she placed a hand on his cheek. “You stayed.”

“Yeah,” he said simply with a grin meant only for her.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

#fic back friday #mass effect #kaidan alenko #kori reese #messages #read on ao3 #ao3fic

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gukieater · 3 years

Text

Get to know me!

Thank you for the tag @yoongsisbae

It's late, I love yaaa and I love you more after getting the little insight of how are you in real life ♥️🤎💜

when is your birthday?

It's 4th of June

what is your favorite color?

black & green

what’s your lucky number?

I don't believe in numbers being lucky.

do you have any pets?

I used to. I had pet dogs, cat and rabbits too. Ever since I moved to the city I never adopted one because I don't think they deserve to live in such confinements. It's cruel enough for humans already.

how tall are you?

5'6" or 171 cm

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

I have about 4-5 working pairs. Too few? I'll tell you why-

I don't particularly enjoy the hastle of going to shopping so I shop online a lot and shoe hunting online isn't exactly endearing.

I have freakishly large feet which turns shopping for shoes into a nightmare. Plus I don't usually buy stuff unless it's absolutely necessary so 4-5 shoes in a cycle is more than enough for me.

favorite song?

There are manyyyyyy. So I'll just mention the one which instantly popped into my mind that is Roslyn by Bon Iver and St. Vincent.

favorite movie?

Uhh that's a tough one too. So I'll mention the last 3 movies I watched and enjoyed.

At the end of the tunnel (Spanish movie)

Bad Genius (Thai movie)

Girlboss (Netflix original)

what would be your ideal partner?

Hmm, never gave it a lot of thought tbh. Maybe someone who feels grateful to have me in his life, open minded, not afraid of commitment and willing to work for the relationship to work rather than give up on the smallest inconvenience ( I'm basically describing my opposite personality because lord knows I have some deep deep commitment issues). He could be boring for all I care just open enough to let me live my life on my own terms that doesn't violate our relationship. I really wouldn't care how he is with other people, boy gotta be good to me if it's gotta work.

do you want children?

I do I guess. They seem adorable when they are other people's.

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

Nada. I'm the goody two shoes when it comes down to laws and order.

what color socks are you wearing?

I hate socks

bath or shower?

Skinny dip.

favorite type of music?

I don't have any specific genre I like.

how many pillows do you sleep with?

which position do you sleep in?

on my right side.

what don’t you like when you’re sleeping?

When somebody touches me while I'm sleeping or getting woken up suddenly, gives me a mean headache.

what do you have for breakfast?

Bread/oats, fruit,

have you ever tried archery?

Yes, I'm terrible at it. Good with shooting though

favorite fruit?

Mango, strawberry, grape.

favorite swear word?

Bloody hell, dafuq plus tons of native shit ( it always feels satisfying to cuss at your local dialect)

do you have any scars?

So many!

are you a good liar?

Depends 👀

what’s your personality type?

The silent observer, mediator, caregiver.

what’s your favorite type of girl?

A girl who knows her worth and carry her head high

left or right handed?

Right handed

favorite food?

Cheese cake, I'm bloody craving some now. Besides I've been raving on meatbox these days.

are you clean or messy?

I love things clean but then again I'm too lazy. So somewhere in between.

favorite foreign food?

RN it's poutine. Shits good

how long does it take for you to get ready?

Depends. It can be 10 minutes 3 hrs, depending on the occasion.

most used phrase?

'Aishhh' [apparently too many things tends to go sideways and I watched one too many k drama's]

are you a good singer?

No Susan, I'm not. I'm terrible at it.

do you sing to yourself?

Hardly

biggest fear?

dying before I did enough

do you like long or short hair?

Both

are you into gossips?

I find it rather annoying.

extrovert or introvert?

Ambivert

favorite school subject?

In school, chemistry ( I used to thrive in this shit). In college, physics. In university, psychology ( I took it as a minor course although I'm an engineering major, LOL)

what makes you nervous?

Pretty people ( they literally get me shaking on my knees)

who was your first real crush?

I really don't remember really. I hardly get crush on a real person ( yep I have pretty fucking unrealistic criteria for a crush)

how many piercings do you have? how fast can you run?

2 ( in my ears and my nose)

what makes you angry?

When people blame me for something I didn't do and when I don't get the due appreciation for something I did ( I freaking bask in appeasement)

do you like your own name?

I love it. It's unique.

do you like your own name?

I mean, I didn't get to choose it.

what are your weaknesses?

I feel care and think too much. So people become tempted to take advantage of that and I get hurt. And the worst aftermath is I forget too soon.

what are your strengths?

I know which battle to pick for fighting. I know when to speak and when not to and it takes a lot to baffle me.

what is the color of your bedspread?

Murky Maroon

color of your room?

Beige cream I guess?

I'm tagging my lovelies 💜 @sunshyngal @candlewaxandp0lar0ids @craztextae @go1denjeon @eureka-its-zico @bibbykins @writemywaytoyourheart @aajjks @hollyhomburg @xherxx

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amythedvdhoarder · 4 years

Text

Priorities

Pairing: Bucky x reader

For the Flex Your Muscles Writing Challenge set up by @captain-rogers-beard

19th of June prompt: A set of twins fighting

Word count: 1.4K

Summary: Bucky worries about the effect his job is having on his family

Warnings: Pure fluff

Authors notes: GIF not mine. This is a bit of a change, still fluffy as hell. Dad Bucky is cute as, well I think so anyway! Please feel free to comment, message etc. Feedback is always appreciated x

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

You could hear the shouting from the kitchen. “That’s my bear” Then there was a thud followed by some loud crying. “I got it” Bucky stood up from the stool and rushed out to the back garden. This was the second fight this week, by all accounts that was a good week. Things had been going well since Bucky had got back from his mission, until yesterday when Steve called and said that Bucky was needed for another mission. The twins hadn’t reacted well; they never did. They missed him when he wasn’t here, acting out and fighting with each other. They calmed right down when Bucky was home. He had a pacifying effect on the twins. Of course, they loved you a lot and you did your best when Bucky was away. But the dynamic was always at its best when you were all together.

“But Daddy that’s my bear.” Sarah’s voice was rising and you could hear Nathans cries were getting louder. Time to provide some back-up. You turned the hob off, abandoning dinner and went outside. Bucky was knelt in-between the two 4-year olds. Nathan was cuddled into Bucky’s side, fat tears rolling down his face. Sarah was stood, her little hands on her hips and a frown on her face. The bear in question filling the space between the stand-off. “Sarah it might be your bear but you need to share ok. You certainly do not push your brother over.” Bucky’s voice was soft but you couldn’t miss the authority in his words. Sarah looked like she was going to start arguing, her lips forming a pout. She was a Daddy’s girl through and through, not that you could blame her. As you stepped closer, Nathan pulled away from his father and towards you. Lifting him up and resting him on your hip, you wiped away the tears still falling from his blue eyes. He was Bucky’s double just in miniature form.

Bucky sighed and looked at you for direction. These fights had only started in the last 6 months, during which he had spent a lot of time away. He felt guilty about it and wondered if ultimately, he was to blame. “Let’s go inside and talk about this?” You suggested. Sarah crossed her arms and turned away from both of you. Bucky was reminded of you in this moment. She had his eyes, the rest of her features similar to yours. Sarah was feisty and bright as a button, she was definitely going to be trouble when she got older; she was already keeping both of you on your toes at the age of 4. Bucky scooped her and the bear up into his arms and followed you into the living room.

Nathan was now clinging to you tightly, his head pressed against your neck. You untangled him and sat him on one end of the sofa, Bucky placing Sarah at the other. You and Bucky sat on the coffee table opposite them, Bucky holding onto the catalyst for the argument. “Nathan, you know that isn’t your bear, did you ask Sarah if you could use hers?.” They had both made bears at build-a-bear the other week when Bucky was last home. Nathan had picked a Falcon bear, much to Bucky’s disgust and Sarah had picked a Captain America Bear. Both bears in honour of their favourite uncles. Nathan looked at you shook his head slowly. “And Sarah do you think pushing Nathan was a good idea?” For a four-year-old she was bright, you could see the cogs turning in her head. “Well Daddy pushes people when they do something they shouldn’t.” Bucky looked horrified at what had just come out of his daughters’ mouth. “That’s different honey.”

After a minute Bucky seemed to recover from the shock. “Where did you get that idea?” Nathan spoke this time “Uncle Tony told us that Daddy fights people for a living.” You made a mental note never to leave the kids alone with Tony again. As you glanced across to Bucky you could see his grip on the bear had tightened, his knuckles white and his metal hand raking through his hair. “Your Daddy saves people as part of his job, he protects everyone from bad people. It is very different to fighting over a bear.” They didn’t look convinced. “Ok, let’s put it another way. Do you think that Uncle Sam would borrow Uncle Steve’s shield without his permission?” Both of them shook their heads. “Do you think that if Uncle Steve borrowed Uncle Sam’s wings that Uncle Steve would push him?” Again, both of them shook their heads. “Well this is exactly the same. You need to be grown up about this. Ask if you want to borrow something and don’t push each other.” Bucky was still quiet, his eyes focussed on the floor. “Apologise to each other please.”

After they had said sorry to each other you told them to go and play outside. “Buck, it’s not your fault”. Bucky looked up at you, his eyes filled with sadness. “Y/N our kids think I am some sort of monster. That I hurt people for a living.” You rubbed a reassuring hand up and down his back. “No, they don’t. They think you’re a super hero, which you are.” He rested his forehead on yours and took in a deep breath. “Maybe I should stop? You did” Pulling back, you tilted his face up to look at you. “Bucky, you love your job. I quit missions because they weren’t for me. I would have quit missions’ kids or no kids.” He closed his eyes and thought carefully. “I do love my job Y/N, but I love my family more.” He kissed your lips softly. “Come on, we can talk about this later. How do you fancy going to the park?”

The kids were exhausted when Bucky put them to bed. He was only on the second page of the book when the twins drifted off to sleep. He looked at their sleeping faces and made his decision. Switching off the light he headed towards the study and pulled out his phone. He remembered the day you had told him you were pregnant, the image of you holding the test in your hand would be forever burned into his memory. He had cried, he had never thought he would have a normal life after everything that had happened. Moving out to Brooklyn had been the next step. You had only just moved in when you went into labour and your beautiful children had been born. The next four years had flown by and Bucky realised that he was missing out. He wanted to be with you and the twins as much as possible. His job made that more difficult.

When he came down stairs half an hour later you were curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea in one hand and a book in the other. He planted a kiss on your head and lifted your legs so he could sit down, letting your feet fall into his lap. His thumb absentmindedly rubbed small circles over the denim of your jeans. You put your drink and book on the coffee table and looked at your husband. He turned to look at you. “So, I just spoke to Steve” You raised an eyebrow in question “Tomorrows mission is going to be my last.” Your mouth opened but before you had chance to speak Bucky finished “I’m going to be running the training program. No more missions. I don’t have to leave you ever again.” You moved over and straddled his lap and held his face in your hands. “You sure about this Buck?” His hands fell down to your ass and squeezed lightly. “Only been sure about a couple things in my life. The first marrying you then second that you and the twins are my life now, not work. You come first, always.” You pressed your lips to his, your fingers slipping into his hair pulling him closer to you. His hands wrapped around you more tightly, holding you against him. When you finally broke apart you were a little breathless. “I love you Y/N.” His fingers stroked your cheek. “I love you too” Leaning down you captured his lips again. “Mummy? Daddy?” The voice of your daughter made you break apart again. “I’ll go” you whispered to Bucky. He shook his head. “We’ll go.”

Taglist is open so let me know if you want in

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18 , @silentcoyotesong, @queenofstarliqht, @buckys-henley, @lonelyheartsm

#flex your writing muscles challenge #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #bucky #bucky fluff #bucky fanfic #james buchanan barnes #marvel fanfics #marvel #avengers #writing challenge

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gothpanda · 3 years

Text

A Little Bit of Attitude Ch.32: Los Angeles

WORD COUNT: 5.6k

A/N: lol I’m not dead. Just had finals

TAGS: @madamsixx @emariehorror

Read on Ao3

Previous/Next

May 31st, 1987

Oakland, California

"... At the dollhouse in Fort Lauderdale! Girls, Girls, Girls! Rocking in Atlanta at Tattletails,"

Sammi groaned loud from the music through the speakers, lightly banging her head against the metal shelves aligned with cassette tapes. It was a brand new song that seemed to play 24/7 since being released, Sammi wanting to rip her ears out of her head. It didn't help that she was in a record store where most of the employees were goth or punks. As Sammi rested her head on the cold metal, Athena couldn't help but chuckle at her sister's dismay while browsing the selection of pop tapes.

"Why are you so dramatic? I thought you'd be happy the band is being successful," said Athena, side-eyeing Sammi's pouted lips.

"I would be happy if I didn't have to hear or see them all over the place. It gets annoying after a while," said Sammi, walking down the aisle of music, finding something new to entertain herself in. Athena followed in her little sister's footsteps, keeping a safe distance from her. It was Athena's idea to check a music store as Sammi showed her around the Bay Area, never having been able to visit until today.

"Well, it's not like you've been avoiding them or anything like that. Of course, it would get annoying,"

"I am not avoiding them," mumbled Sammi.

"Are you sure? You have done a pretty good job if you ask me," said Athena, grabbing a new Aerosmith cassette for her walkman.

Sammi stopped dead in her tracks, turning to glare right at Athena, who had a playful smirk. "I have not, Athena. I've been busy. " There's a difference," said Sammi, turning into the magazine aisle near the shop's cash register.

"Really? You could've fooled by the way you haven't been home in a year. When was the last time you talked to mama or dad?"

Sammi sighed out. "I'm sorry for missing out on stuff, but school has been a bigger pain in my ass than I thought. And I have spoken to mama and dad,"

"You've missed: Tommy's birthday, Mama's birthday, Thanksgiving, Christmas, my birthday-"

"Okay, I get it, Athena! You don't have to remind me. I'm going home for a month aren't I?" asked Sammi with a sting of sarcasm, glancing at all of the headlines from the gossip tabloids.

"And thank god for that,"

"Why L.A isn't living up to its potential anymore?" joked Sammi.

"Exactly. Everything has been moderately boring since you left. It's not fun hanging out with Tommy after he got married. Our lovely sister-in-law isn't up to crazy fun. And all of my friends are acting like full adults now with 9 to 5's," said Athena.

Right as Sammi responded, her eyes fell on an issue of 'Rock Secrets,' another gossip magazine amongst the hundreds. The cover for the tabloid made Sammi's heartstrings get pulled in different directions. Nikki in the arms of another woman, both smirking. Sammi knew the woman from the party scene of Los Angeles, a dancer for every music video but nothing more. She was the complete opposite of Sammi in every single way. The woman was someone taller who was almost the same height as Nikki in heels. She was slimmer than Sammi and tanner in comparison to Sammi's pale cheeks. Sammi didn't want to believe Nikki running out to get new girlfriends after she left but knew it was bound to happen at some point. It had been a year. Sammi was never one to feel self-conscious about her appearance but seeing someone so different from her have Nikki wrapped around their finger stung. As Sammi stared longer at the cover, she was able to see the haze in Nikki's eyes that she hated, the girl almost matching him. Sammi reached for the magazine, facing Athena with a ghastly face, a cocktail of anger and sadness show. Athena pressed her lips tightly together, taking the tabloid for herself to examine.

"She isn't close to being as pretty as you," said Athena in hopes of cheering Sammi up. Sammi scoffed. "And Tommy hates her with his whole being. Apparently, she's some crazy attention whore. That's probably why she's on this stupid cover,"

"She is pretty, don't lie. And I don't care if Tommy doesn't like her or she's an attention whore," said Sammi, yanking the magazine from Athena's hand. She curled her lip as she stared at the cover, turning pages to see more photos of the couple around Los Angeles. With the luck of being around drugs and partying, Sammi could see when Nikki was high in the images. "Her name is Veronica?" asked Sammi.

"Yeah. Don't let her get to you, she's just some background dancer who's gotten with other musicians," answered Athena, skimming through a Rolling Stones magazine.

"Still. She has a pretty name," mumbled Sammi under her breath, unable to look away. When it finally felt too much for Sammi, she threw the thin tabloid down the aisle with all her force in one quick motion. Athena whipped her head fast, snapping her eyes wide open in shock.

"Sam, what the hell?" asked Athena in a sharp whisper. Sammi only continued to walk into a different section of the music shop. "Was that really necessary?" asked Athena, raising an eyebrow at Sammi.

Sammi shrugged her shoulders, pouting slightly. "It felt good for a second, now I'm just annoyed again,"

"It's great to see you've moved on," teased Athena, throwing her arm around Sammi's shoulders.

"What? I can't be bitter if an ex got a new girlfriend?" asked Sammi, folding her arms across her chest.

"No, because you're supposed to be the mature one, remember? It shouldn't get to you,"

"I beg to differ on being mature,"

"Hey! You can't throw around the magazines!" yelled a young goth girl, picking up the crinkled magazine from the floor, frowning at Sammi and Athena.

"Sorry, she had a temper tantrum. Won't happen again!" answered Athena, trying her best to hide a chuckle. "But seriously please don't do that again. I like to come back to this place next time I visit you,"

"Oh finally you're thinking about visiting?" asked Sammi with a smile, crossing her arms against her chest.

The sisters continued exploring the record store a moment longer, buying cassette tapes to listen to on the drive back home. When Sammi would scan down the rock section, she couldn't help think about what Nikki would like. It was a habit she couldn't break yet. The Oakland streets were beginning to grow busy with summer vacation coming around, Sammi seeing more tourists than usual. "So, I know you don't want to talk about Motley but I should probably tell you this," said Athena.

Sammi kept her dead stare ahead of her, scowling into the distance. "What is it? No one's dying or in the hospital right?"

Athena scoffed in amusement. "No, nothing like that. They're going to be back on the road soon," said Athena, lighting a cigarette as the sisters walked down east.

"Oh. Good for them," said Sammi, wrinkles deepening between her brows. "When are they packing up?"

"Third week in June? Tommy hasn't given me all the details yet except for one,"

"Which is?"

"He wants to throw this huge kick-off party at his and Heather's,"

"Okay," Sammi shrugged.

"I wanted to let you know before Tommy gets so incredibly excited to tell you, he forgets to ask if you're okay," said Athena, blowing out smoke into the air.

"Athena, I'm fine. I just needed to let out my frustrations for a second,"

"Sammi no you're not and please listen," Sammi stopped her steps, sucking her teeth as she faced Athena. "You can admit to not wanting to see Nikki when you get back home. It's understandable to not want to see an ex. You shouldn't tough it out for the sake of Tommy or anyone else. If you're not okay just tell me,"

Sammi sighed out heavily, gazing up anywhere but Athena. "It's okay. I'm okay. Yeah, it hurts Nikki moved on, but what am I supposed to do? We haven't talked in a year, and we both messed up," said Sammi, continuing to walk with heavy steps.

"How did you mess up?" asked Athena.

"I got up and left without telling him. I didn't tell my boyfriend anything about me leaving, and I just left him. You don't think that's a little messed up?" asked Sammi, scrunching her brows together with a frown.

"You two broke up before you left," reassured Athena.

Sammi stopped again in her tracks, looking right into Athena's eyes. "Did you know Nona died last year? Nikki's grandma" asked Sammi.

Athena bit her lip. "No, I didn't. Tom never mentioned it," muttered Athena, looking down at her feet.

Sammi bit the inside of her cheek, shaking her head slightly and continuing to walk. Instead of spitting out venomous words, Sammi pulled out a cigarette from her crinkled pack of Camels, lighting it in silence. "You've been busy, Sam. Don't be hard on yourself," said Athena.

"This conversation is going way longer than I want," muttered Sammi, staring dead ahead of her.

"Fine. Are you ready to go home then?" asked Athena, looping her arm around Sammi's. Sammi sighed out with a nod. The sisters continued their walk through the city streets until finding the car park, silence forming between them. Sammi only wanted to go home to her family.

June 2nd

Los Angeles, California

"Sammi!" screamed Emma excitedly from the apartment balcony, smiling down at her best friend. Sammi slammed the backseat door, swinging a duffle bag on her shoulders as she smiled back at Emma. Sabrina soon rushed out behind the sliding door with a smile on her face. "Do you need any help?" yelled out Sabrina.

"No, I'm good! I'll be right up!" answered Sammi, racing up to the second floor of the apartment complex. As Sammi reached Emma and Sabrina's door, Emma swung it right open, engulfing Sammi in a lovingly tight hug. Sabrina wrapped her arms around both the girls, everyone smiling gleefully. Once finally pulling apart, Emma grabbed Sammi's duffle off her shoulders, playing a great hostess.

"We've missed you so much," said Sabrina, kissing Sammi on her temple.

"Come on and welcome to our very adult apartment," joked Emma, swinging her arm around Sammi's shoulders, walking into the apartment. It was perfect for Emma and Sabrina, enough space for both with extra for Sammi. Anyone who visited could see the elements of a future lawyer and a star athlete, a mix of color and neatness. Sammi admired the decor from every corner, noting the purple sofa and accent chair in the living room.

"I like everything. You girls really got the place up and pretty," said Sammi, dropping herself on the sofa.

"Thanks, we did have a year to get it clean for you," teased Sabrina with a smirk, sitting down on an accent chair. Sammi glared at her, matching Sabrina's smirk as Emma took the duffle bag to her room.

"Ha. Ha. I just wanted to give you two all the time in the world,"

"In that case, you better love every single corner of this place," said Emma, prospering herself next to Sammi. "But enough about this place! How's San Francisco? Is it great and gay as I imagine?" asked Emma with a goofy smile.

"Is school going great for you? I know my mom wanted me to move there for college," asked Sabrina, almost on the edge of her seat.

"Are the nightclubs totally amazing like I hear? We should go to one when we visit next month!" exclaimed Emma.

Sammi only looked down at her hands, checking her nail polish with a forced thin smile on. She shrugged her shoulders, trying her best to think of something great. "San Fran's pretty, don't get me wrong, but it's so… cramped and stiff. It's nothing but an overpriced tiny island," scuffed Sammi, pouting at Emma and Sabrina.

"Really? You made it sound so nice on the phone when we'd call," said Sabrina, scrunching her brows together.

"I also make those phone calls short if you two recall," said Sammi, Sabrina and Emma exchange worried looks. "The only nice thing I can think of was the food. Great Japanese restaurants. But school is school. One year down, one more to go. The people I've met have been incredibly rude. One was some Christian freak who said the boys were satanic, and I wasn't any better hanging out with them,"

"Wow. Wait until you tell her you like to hang out with a lesbian," joked Emma, earning a smile from Sammi. "Sam, you should've said something about not being happy. We could've gone up and hung out for a weekend," Emma suggested.

"And brought some company with us," said Sabrina, pressing her lips firmly together.

"You'd really make Emma sit in a car with her ex? Even if they were my sister?" teased Sammi.

"No, I think she was talking about another ex," said Emma, biting the edge of her thumbnail. "And not a blonde ex,"

Sammi looked back down at her hands, grabbing a pillow to hug. "I think Nikki is already pretty busy with his new girlfriend. He wouldn't want to come to San Francisco," shrugged Sammi.

"You sure? I think he would drop everything if we asked him to tag along. The guys haven't been on tour yet," said Sabrina.

"Yep. I'm sure. Nikki was never a fan of San Francisco,"

"Sabrina is right about Nikki dropping everything to see you, Sammi. It wouldn't matter if he has a girlfriend or not. He hasn't seen you in a year or talked to you-"

"He's tried, mumbled Sammi.

"What?" asked Emma, scrunching her eyebrows deeper.

"He tried and I tried, but I just fucked it up," sighed Sammi with a shaky breath.

"Sammi, please talk to us," said Sabrina, leaning forward on her legs, hands closed.

Sammi sighed out, resting her head from the side in the palm of her hand. "Nona passed away. Nikki left a voicemail, sounding messed up and I didn't do anything about it. I didn't call him to check in on him. I didn't call his grandfather to check in on him. I didn't do anything. I would call him in the middle of the night and then hang up right away after I first moved. He would be high," said Sammi, wiping away the forming tear that could fall.

"Sam," said Emma softly, reaching out to hold Sammi's hand.

"Please don't tell me I didn't fuck up because I did," pleased Sammi, looking at Emma and Sabrina.

"Okay, the both of you have had bad communication skills, but it still isn't considered fucked up ," said Sabrina. "You're home for a month. Maybe now it's a better time to speak to him,"

Sammi shook her head. "There's more than just that. I slept with Vince after we got drunk," admitted Sammi. "I fucked up,"

Sabrina and Emma stared at Sammi for a moment, glancing at each other to find something to say. "How bad do you feel about having sex with Vince?" asked Sabrina.

"S,"

"No Em, I'm just asking a question. Sammi, why did you sleep with Vince? And why did you feel bad afterward?" asked Sabrina again, this time in a stern voice.

"Because it didn't feel right after I sobered up. There were no rekindled feelings within me for the person I dated. I was drunk and Vince kept saying how great Nikki was doing. He didn't sleep with me because he missed me. It felt like he just wanted to get back at Nikki," said Sammi running a hand down her face.

"Did Vince tell Nikki?" asked Emma.

"I don't know. When we spoke, I told him it was a one-time thing and to keep it between us," said Sammi.

"I still think you should talk to Nikki," suggested Sabrina.

"You're going to have to someday," said Emma, swinging her arm around Sammi's shoulders, bringing her in for a hug.

"I know. I have to do it next Saturday," groaned Sammi. "Tommy's going to throw a party before the guys leave on tour and I have to go,"

"You mean we have to go," added Emma, Sammi scrunching her brows together. "You seriously think we're just going to let you be alone where Nikki is? What kind of friends do you think we are," teased Emma, smiling at Sammi.

Sabrina walked over to the sofa, perching herself on the sofa's armrest, placing her chin on the crown of Sammi's hair. "You'll be fine. Things may seem like shit right now but I promise you, there's always a glimmer of light after a storm," said Sabrina. Sammi only smiled at the two girls, nerves slowly thawing out and relaxing.

June 13th

"What time does Tommy want us to show up?" shouted Sabrina from her bedroom into the hallway, scowling down at the multiple outfits on her bed. Sammi shuffled into Sabrina's room, undoing the last hair roller from her dark locks.

"He said 8:30," answered Sammi, seeing a digital clock read 8:40. When it came to times for parties, they were only a suggestion for the girls. Tommy never meant the time he really said. Sammi scanned the bed before picking up a blue strapless dress. "You should wear this one. It's a nice summer color,"

"So happy to have you help with my little dilemmas," smiled Sabrina, grabbing the dress to change in the private bathroom. "Is Emma ready?" Sabrina shouted through the restroom.

"Yeah, I just needed to finish straightening my hair," entered Emma, ready to go in her purple jumpsuit. "Are you ready, Sammi?" asked Emma.

Sammi scrunched her brows together. "Oh yeah, I'm already dressed. I only need my heels,"

"I don't mean physically ready even though I love that black dress. I meant ready to see the guys again. Specifically a certain bassist,"

Sammi pursed her lips out. "No, but it's going happen sooner or later,"

"That's the spirit! I'll call us a cab while Sabrina's changing. Remember it's still going to be a fun night!" cheerfully said, Emma.

"If you say so," said Sammi with hesitation.

From the grand driveway, guests from the party scenes had already flooded the mansion, either inside or outside. The girls walked up the front steps, smiling politely and maneuvering past people they didn't know until inside. Sammi scanned the foyer and living room, hesitant to find familiar faces just yet. It wasn't until Sammi heard her name yelled out in a high pitched voice.

"Sammi! Finally, you're here!" yelled out Heather in excitement, walking as fast as she could in her heels. She swiftly hugged Sammi tightly, ignoring the presence of Emma and Sabrina. Sammi embraced back with less enthusiasm but still happy to see her sister-in-law. "It's been so long! I have missed you so much!" said Heather, releasing Sammi from her grip. "Did you all just get here? Let's go to the kitchen for a drink!" suggested Heather, grabbing Sammi's hand, pulling her further into the house. Sammi flashed anxious wide eyes at Emma and Sabrina, the two only shrugging their shoulders and following. A few people began to recognize Sammi as the four passed through, almost remembering Tommy's other sister. The kitchen wasn't better in the number of people, some others herding in the quarters. Heather let go of Sammi, playing hostess, as she filled up three glasses of expensive champagne. Soon another person in the herd approached the absent girl, clearing his throat to gain her attention. Sammi's eyes lit up, as did her smile when realizing who it was.

"Mick!" exclaimed Sammi.

"How have you been, Little One?" said Mick, smiling his best as the two exchanged a small hug. "I'm not one to be needy, but how come I haven't heard much from you?"

Sammi shrugged her shoulders. "School has been kicking my ass. It's harder than I forgot," joked Sammi.

"I'm happy that's your reason. It's been quiet without you,"

"How can it be so quiet? I'm the least crazy out all of you," teased Sammi.

Mick shrugged his shoulders. "Quiet for me at least,"

"Here you go, Sammi. Heather had to find Tommy," said Sabrina, passing her the champagne glass.

"Hey, Mick! Enjoying the party?" asked Emma, forming a small circle between the four.

"As much as I can for a little while. I'm just waiting for my girl to stop by then I'm taking off," said Mick, earning wide eyes from all the girls.

"You have a girlfriend?" asked Sabrina with an amused smile.

"That's so nice!" said Emma.

"Who is she?" asked Sammi, cocking a raised eyebrow.

Mick began to smirk, taking a sip of his alcohol of choice. "Her name's Emerson. She's a backup singer, but please don't tell the guys. The three of you can't tell them,"

The girls all scrunched their brows at Mick. "Why? Is she someone they know?" asked Emma.

"We hired her to tour with us. That's how we met. But I know they'll just bust my balls for liking her,"

"Mick, you shouldn't let the guys dictate who you want to like. If you really like this girl then they're just going to have to deal with it," advised Sabrina.

"Unless she's mean to you then we're going to have a problem," said Sammi, winking at Mick.

Mick scuffed at the girls. "Whatever just please keep it yourselves, for me. That is all I ask,"

"Promise," the girls said in unison.

"Thank you. Come on let's find your brother and sister, they've been wondering about you," said Mick, taking the lead to leave the stuffy kitchen. Right as Sammi stepped out, her eyes couldn't help but fall directly onto a man far away, almost making her freeze. Nikki staring right at her, back against the wall. Sammi swallowed hard, continuing to follow Mick and the girls, eyes looking down. This didn't stop Nikki; he followed every step Sammi took until disappearing behind a wall. Sammi couldn't help but finish the champagne in one gulp, placing the glass on a random table.

"Sammi! Finally! I was starting to think you were going to show up!" yelled out Tommy in excitement, hugging the youngest sister. "And ladies, always lovely to see the two of you!" Emma and Sabrina giggling alongside Tommy. Athena appeared right past Emma, only smirking at her without a word. She kissed Sammi on the cheek, passing her a refreshed drink of vodka. "I see Mick got to you before anyone else. Let me get Vince!"

"Tommy, it's cool. I have all night to talk to people," said Sammi, biting her lip.

"Besides Vince is wrapped around a new blondie's finger," added Mick, sitting down on a nearby sofa.

"Vince got a new girlfriend?" asked Sammi.

Tommy shrugged his shoulders. "She's basically a look-like of Sharise. I give it two months while we're on the road,"

"When did you know about this?" Sammi asked Athena.

"About an hour ago when he walked through the door. She seems like a nice girl if I'm being honest," said Athena.

As if his ears were burning, Vince sturt his way to the group with a young woman wrapped around him. "Sam! What a surprise!" said Vince with excitement. Tommy shot a look between Athena and the girls, sitting down beside Mick. "Babe, this is Sammi. Tommy's other sister I was telling you about,"

"Hi, I'm Hayley. I've heard a lot about you," said Hayley extending out a hand, trying her best to not seem uncomfortable.

Sammi smiled politely, accepting the handshake to not be rude. "All good things I hope,"

"Of course all good. I'd never talk bad about you," said Vince, smirking lustfully at Sammi.

"Yeah, like how smart and nice you are," said Hayley. The tension between the two girls was incredibly thick. Anyone could cut it with a knife. Suddenly, the music changed from its rock sound to a techno beat, blaring even louder than before. Tommy jumped up to question, only to let out an annoyed groan when seeing a wild hair woman jump on the coffee table in the middle of the room. To the music's beat, the woman danced faster and faster, almost too fast for the music. Emma couldn't help but curl her lip at the woman, wrinkling her brows at Tommy. Sammi hitched her breath, caught in her throat when realizing it was Veronica.

"Who the hell is that?" asked Emma.

"Nikki's new girlfriend," groaned Tommy, pouring some whiskey into his solo cup. "She's a bitch," he whispered to the girls, noting the somber expression from Sammi.

"I don't know how Sixx deals with that. Come on, babe, let's go out to the pool," said Vince, wrapping his arm around Hayley's waist. "Later, Sam," winked Vince.

Sammi remained silent amongst everyone, sinking into the sofa to watch the unfortunate show display in front of her. People around the grand living room gathered to watch Veronica, snickers from other women as they watched. Muttered comments going around on the visible state of Veronica being high on some type of drug. This went on longer than anyone wanted, Sammi beginning to wonder if anyone had the heart to stop her. Most found it entertaining, while others didn't. Sammi glanced around the room, wondering where Nikki was during all of this. It wasn't until Heather stomped up to Tommy, bringing him down to her level to whisper in his ear. Sammi was able to read the anger on Heather's face, seeing her fold in her arms right at her husband. Tommy shook his head, marching straight to Veronica, and one swoop brought her off the table, clinging onto Veronica. Tommy tried his best to shuffle out of the living room even when it was becoming difficult.

"Let go of me you asshole! You demon!" shouted Veronica, her weak legs making her almost sink to the floor. As Tommy lifted Veronica back on her feet, Nikki appeared from thin air confused. Tommy couldn't help but throw the intoxicated girl at his best friend. Nikki didn't bother to help her stand on her two feet, letting Veronica stumble by his feet. Sammi could see the three frowning at Nikki's careless attitude toward Veronica.

"Was she dancing again?" asked Nikki, scowling down at Veronica.

"Yeah. Now can you please watch your chick? Some of us are trying to enjoy our night," said Tommy, going to the stereos to finally switch the music to something more bearable. He walked over to Heather with his classic Tommy smile, kissing her on the lips to melt any anger away. Grabbing Veronica by her arm, Nikki dragged her up on her feet, quickly turning away from all staring eyes. Nikki grinds hard his teeth when his eyes fell on Sammi for the second time of the night, being able to see the worry from her. The dysfunctional couple disappeared from within the house, everyone soon forgetting about the little show—everyone except for Sammi. Sammi stared down at her drink, Sabrina sitting right next to her.

"Ready to talk to him?" asked Sabrina?

Sammi bit the inside of her cheek, glancing up in the direction of where Nikki was. "Will I ever be?" scuffed Sammi, taking a swing from whatever was in her cup.

"Probably not, but it wouldn't hurt to try another time. Nikki already saw you. He knows you're here. And he's leaving in a couple of days. I'm only suggesting because I care about you,"

"I know. I'll be right back," said Sammi, passing Sabrina her cup as she stood up while fixing her short dress.

Sabrina wrinkled her brows at Sammi. "You're going to talk to him now?"

"No, but if I just happen to go missing please come find me," answered Sammi, carefully passing through the sea of people.

"Why do you keep making a scene everywhere we go?" whispered Nikki from behind the closed door. Sammi paused from touching up her makeup in the mirror, remaining completely still and silent to listen. "You're high again aren't you?" asked Nikki. Sammi pressed her ear to the door to listen better. She knew there was no point in hiding in the bathroom, thinking of Emma and Sabrina looking for her.

"So what if I am? It's a party!" shouted Veronica.

"That I didn't invite you to!" said Nikki. The silence between the two soon followed for a moment, Sammi slowly opening the door. She tried her best to not make her heels clank loud on the tile, walking into the hallway with small steps. The hallway's right end was utterly empty, causing Sammi to drop the cautious act as she shut the bathroom door behind her. "Sammi?" said Nikki, Sammi jumping in her skin when hearing her name. She peered over her shoulder, Nikki looking dead at her for the third time, somewhat softer finally. Veronica leaned slouched against the wall with a deadly stare, unhappy to see Sammi even if she was a stranger. It was clear to Sammi Nikki looked better than most days, Veronica appearing to be the only one under something. Sammi didn't peep a word, unable to say anything to Nikki, especially with his new girlfriend by his side.

"I know who you are," slurred Veronica, stumbling on her feet to regain balance, dodging Nikki's attempt to hold her down. She fought the urge to fall onto the floor, wanting to be right in Sammi's face. Sammi couldn't say or do anything, freezing at the taller woman looking down on her. Sammi could see the pin needle pupils in Veronica's eyes. "I know exactly who you are. You're the one corrupting Nikki. The one corrupting everyone," Sammi scrunched her brows deep together, looking past Veronica to Nikki. "No! Look at me! You're nothing but a devil. A devil!" shouted Veronica, inching closer to Sammi's face. Before having the chance to grip onto Sammi's bare arms, Nikki yanked Veronica down to the floor with no care if she got hurt.

"Don't fucking talk to her! You don't get to talk to her!" yelled Nikki at Veronica, scowling at her. Veronica laid flat down on her back, pouting up at Nikki. Nikki didn't care about Veronica's state of being in this moment, only wretched when Sammi appeared scared. "Leave her alone and leave me alone," Nikki said, grasping Sammi's arm lightly as he led them away from Veronica. Sammi couldn't help look back at Veronica, wondering if she had any idea of what was really happening. Nikki took Sammi to another empty hallway, the music almost a bit louder from where they stood. Sammi rested against the wall, unable to look Nikki in the eye even when she could feel Nikki's on her. "Got nothing to say?" asked Nikki.

"Thank you," mumbled Sammi, looking down at her feet.

Nikki scoffed, shaking his head. "Is that really all?" Sammi stayed silent. Nikki stepped closer to Sammi, lightly taking his hands to cup Sammi's cheeks, cradling her face. He brought her eyes to meet his, a loving brown meeting a foggy hazel. Just from the simple tough of something so innocent, a flush of pink stained Sammi's cheeks. Nikki couldn't help but crack a small smile, missing the sweet face. Alas, the unfortunate always comes. "I know you and Vince had sex," said Nikki, dropping his hands and stepping back.

"What?" uttered Sammi, lips parting in shock, deep wrinkles setting in between her brows.

Nikki only shrugged his shoulders. "I guess you aren't that great anymore to keep him around," said Nikki.

Before Sammi could say anything, Nikki headed straight for the front of the house, hands in his pocket as he ignored everyone. Everything came like a tsunami wave; all Sammi could see was red. Instead of beginning to cry, Sammi marched her way through the party, ignoring the calls of her name from Athena or Sabrina. When reaching the outside, Sammi was able to find Vince in a short second, making a fast b-line to him. Vince didn't pay any attention to his surroundings, talking to a friend by the pool without Hayley. Vince was soon heavily pushed into the body of water in a blink, drink flying out of his hand. When he came up to the surface, Vince was ready to fight until realizing Sammi was scowling down at him.

"Sammi, what the fuck!?" yelled Vince. Tommy and Athena were quick to run out to get Sammi, Sammi pushing away their grasps.

Hayley rushed to Vince's side. "What's wrong with you?!" asked Hayley.

"Why did you tell Nikki?!" screamed Sammi. "You promised!" Vince bit his lip, looking at everyone but Sammi. "Huh?!"

"Sam," whispered Athena, softly pushing her away from the edge of the pool. Tommy pulled Vince up out of the water, glaring right at him for answers.

"Why are you so mad you slept with me?!" asked Vince, Athena, and Tommy, eyes opening wide at Sammi.

"Because it was a drunk mistake!" shouted Sammi. She shook her head at Vince. "You didn't give a shit about me," spit Sammi.

"You had sex with Vince?" asked Athena, concerned. Sammi didn't give an answer.

Emma and Sabrina delicately put a hand on Sammi's shoulders, being the only people who didn't get shoved off. "Sam, we're going home," ordered Emma, grabbing her hand as she shot daggers at Vince. Sammi didn't protest, letting the girls engulf her in protection from stares. They didn't need anyone to judge Sammi as she was only a stranger to everyone. Mick had already left from the madness, knowing he would hear from the grapevine. Once the girls were in a cab, Emma turned to Sammi. "Are you finally going to talk to Nikki? And this time like adults?" Sammi only dropped her head against the fuzzy middle seat, nodding with another word.

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