#i skipped around til it was Not a taylor song on the off chance that this is new to you LOL

[ilostyou]

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[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Take My Hand (Part Four)

Summary: doing what you think is best for another person never ends well (four of ??? parts - more parts to come!) 

Pairings: Sonny Carisi x Reader, Rafael Barba x Reader 

Word Count: 7,579

Song: I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush / I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush (gold rush by taylor swift) 

Warnings: T, lots of angst, but a happy ending? 

A/N: thank you to all of you for reading, your comments and reblogs have kept me going! thank you to @laneygthememequeen​ and @bucky-of-the-opera​ for being the best beta readers!! 

“Rafael, you don’t have to leave—” Sonny crossed his arms, as Rafael raised an eyebrow at him over his drink, sipping at his scotch mournfully, “McCoy said you could still work—” 

“You know a lawyer’s reputation is everything, Carisi,” he swirled what remained of his drink in his glass, “it’s our main commodity, and mine has been taken out back and shot — by my own hand,” he downs the rest of the drink, “besides,” he sighs, “there’s nothing left for me here.” 

Sonny frowns, sipping at his own drink, “What’re gonna do next?” Rafael shrugs, “I think I’ll broaden my horizons— this is the first time since before law school that I haven’t had a plan for my life — it’s just wide open.” 

“And that’s?” 

“Terrifying, surprising — I never thought I’d have to start over at this point in my career, but,” he leans against the counter, “it’s a change,” and then he looks over at Sonny, “and what about you?” 

He furrows his brow, “What about me?” 

“Are you going to apply for the opening in the D.A.’s office?” Sonny nearly chokes on his drink, “come on, Carisi, you’re more than qualified.” 

He shakes his head, “I don’t know — I’m not sure if I’m ready for that change quite yet, besides,” he shifts in his seat, “I heard from Liv that McCoy has someone else in mind for the job.” 

“Stone?” Rafael asks, and Sonny tilts his head, “I may not be in that office, but it doesn’t change the fact that it leaks like a rusty faucet.” 

“If you know that—” 

“Sonny, a piece of advice,” Rafael turns to face him, one elbow on the counter, “no one job is forever — Stone may last a while, he may not — but get your name in the ring at least because the next time the position is open, they’ll look to you—” 

“But—” 

“You have been part of the squad, you’ve seen these cases for years, you’re an officer and you have the education to back it up,” he pulls his wallet out, waving off Carisi, and placing a few bills on the counter, “Look, you went to law school for a reason right? If you keep making excuses, you won’t be able to do the good you could do.” 

Sonny knew, he knew that he should but— “I’m just afraid that I won’t be able to handle it,” 

Rafael raises an eyebrow, “You are a detective in one of the toughest units in the NYPD and you went to law school at the same time — I think you’ll be fine.” 

Sonny blinks, trying to hide his smile, “Thank you — for everything. I’ve appreciated you mentoring me these past years.” 

Rafael gives a small chuckle at that, “You shouldn’t be thanking me,” 

Sonny tilts his head, “Then who should I be thanking?” 

Your name leaves his lips, and Sonny frowns, “I didn’t really want to mentor you, but with some encouragement, well—” he shrugs, “my point is there’s no need to thanks, at least not me.” 

A sentence burns on his tongue, hot as the anger sitting on his chest, and I should thank the person who cut me out of their life without any to-do? But Sonny doesn’t say that, he only smiles — as always. 

He didn’t want to admit how much it hurt when you left. When you didn’t say goodbye. When you quit without warning. When you left him with nothing but a note and no explanation, only the feeling of your lips on his. 

But it did hurt.

Especially because he didn’t know if it was because of him. He didn’t presume himself to be that important in your life — and maybe he wasn’t with how easily you had removed yourself from his life — but what other explanation was there really? 

“I should go,” Rafael slips off the stool, pulling his coat on, and he holds out his hand to Sonny, “I hope to see you again sometime, Detective,” 

Sonny offers a smile, shaking his hand, “Counselor, I expect to hear things about what you do next.” 

“Same to you — your name is associated with me, I can't have you sullying it, now can I?” but then he grimaces, shrugging, “well, at least the bar is low.” 

“Bye, Rafael,” and he nods, disappearing out the door, and Sonny straightens his coat, walking towards the door, before glancing at the bar stool you had sat at the night he picked you up — so much had changed and in so little time. 

“How long has it been, Jack?” you skip the handshake for a hug, sliding into the booth across from him. 

“Far too long,” he sighs, already had ordered his own food, “I heard about the stir you’re making in the Bronx,” he splits his chopsticks, dousing in his food in a very modest amount of sriracha, as you raise a questioning eyebrow at his remark, “The Brown case — I heard an earful from the Bronx D.A. about that case.” 

You shake your head, ordering yourself a soda, “It was his fault that he didn’t have proper chain of custody on that evidence—” 

“I know,” Jack nods, “it was a good catch.” 

“Thank you,” you smile, pleased with yourself, “although I suspect this isn’t just for you to compliment me on my exceptional work.” 

“Developed an ego at No-Go?” you roll your eyes at his “loving” nickname for your firm, Noble-Gordon LLP, before shrugging, “you know you could start your own practice and make more money.” 

“I could, but I also wouldn’t get some control over where their pro bono hours go,” you order your food, stirring your drink with a straw, “now what do you want McCoy? And then I can bore you with the details of my life plan.” 

Jack smiles, “Always straight to the point, huh, counselor?” he leans back, “what do you think of Detective Carisi?” 

You furrow your brow, “Sonny? Is something—” 

“Nothing is wrong,” Jack waved you off, “but what was your opinion of him?” 

You tilt your head, “As what? Detective, a barred attorney, or person?” 

Jack raises an eyebrow, “Let’s start with detective, and then we’ll get to the other two,” 

You pause — how could you describe Sonny? “When he first started, I didn’t know what to think of Sonny — he was eager to learn, but green,” you suppress a snort at the thought of him the unfortunate incidents of him pestering victims and suspects alike, “but despite that, he was always willing to learn, quick on his feet. He was good with the victims, maybe not at first, but he’s a seasoned detective now, and I have confidence in his skills.” 

“And as an attorney?” 

“Well, I never was around to see him get barred,” and you feel a twinge of guilt crawl up your throat — you had promised to help him study, promised to help him celebrate — you didn’t do either, “but when he applied his legal knowledge to cases we worked on together and while shadowing at the Manhattan office, he showed aptitude, skill, and passion.” 

“And as a person?” 

You smile softly, “Sonny is kind, to a fault, but he’s practical, he knows there are grays to S.V.U. cases — he’s seen them firsthand. He knows how to handle tough cases, while having the empathy to handle victims,” Jack nods, sipping at his drink, “now I assume you’re asking for a reason?” 

“Stone resigned,” Jack sighs, “effective immediately — and we’re looking for someone to get their foot in the door — quick.” 

“Peter? What—” 

“It wasn’t the right fit,” he shook his head, “he’s landing on his feet — don’t worry.” 

You frowned, you didn’t know Peter personally, but you had heard stories of him and his father — both were legendary, “I’m sorry to hear that, but,” you tilt your head, “you’re considering Sonny for the position?” 

“Yes, and now hearing what you had to say, I think I will," and you smile, "after an interview, of course." 

"Of course," you shake your head, "I remember interviewing with you."

He raises an eyebrow, "And?" 

"I think I convinced myself you thought I was a moron, until you gave me the offer after a week," he shrugs. 

"Had to make you sweat," he purses his lips, "do you regret saying yes?" 

You glance at the bar, a frown pressing onto your lips, "I regret a lot of things," and your food arrives at the table, and you break your chopsticks, smiling, "but never that." 

You were not happy. 

You hurried up the steps of the Manhattan courthouse — steps you had hoped you wouldn’t have had to hurry up ever again — not only had this case been unceremoniously dumped on the firm with a notice of one whole day, but it had been shafted to you with a whole two hours notice after one of your junior associates called out sick. 

Sick or hungover? You couldn’t tell over from the 4:00 AM message left on your voicemail, but by the sounds of the clinking glasses in the background — they certainly didn’t have the flu.

This was not only the son of one of your firm’s biggest clients — the firm practicing not only criminal defense but also some business law matters. It was a simple case — a white first time offender on a petty marijuana possession — he would likely get no jail time, and get time served at most — with an expungement in the near future. 

But that wasn’t the problem. 

The crime was committed and the son charged in the jurisdiction of Manhattan, so that meant this was in a Manhattan courtroom, one that you hadn’t stepped into in what — two, nearly three years? 

And on top of it all, there was the matter of who the prosecutor was. A silent curse muttered under your breath as you rushed to the courtroom — and it was someone you hadn’t seen in about the same amount of time. 

Why a sex crimes prosecutor was covering for a narcotics case — you didn’t know, but you figured it was either a chance to learn the ropes in different departments or the D.A. needed someone to cover, and the new guy drew the short straw. 

Just your luck.

You stood outside the courtroom, catching your breath, your heart thumping against your ribs — and you didn’t know whether it was from the running or from the fact you were about to see Sonny again for the first time in three years after you kissed him. 

And he didn’t know you were coming. 

Fuck it, you pulled open the door, stepping inside. 

And you saw him— standing where Rafael and you once stood, his eyes first lying on his notes, but drawn to the noise of the creaking door and your footsteps against the marble floor. 

You try not to look at him. You can’t help it, as you pass him by you catch a glimmer of his reaction — shock scrawled plainly across his face, eyes widened and nearly slack jawed. 

“Your Honor, I apologize to you and to my client, ” you spare a small smile to the privileged 18-year-old, Jason Baker, beside you, before your eyes flicker over to Sonny — dress in a pressed suit, his hair slicked back, lips no longer curled in the smile he once had for you, but instead, in a thin line, “ as well as A.D.A. Carisi. I was only informed of this case this morning and I rushed here as soon as I could—” 

“Yes, I understand,” Judge Lopez nods — Lopez being a judge you had dealt with many a time on cases — tough, but always fair, a definite leftist progressive (even by New York standards),  “Do you need a moment to confer with your client?” 

“Just a moment,” you confirmed the details of the case with Jason, before nodding, “I think we’re ready to proceed.” 

The hearing went without much to-do, both of you agreeing to meet about a plea agreement to settle this case out of court. You promised your client you would meet with him after, as Sonny began to make a beeline out of the courtroom. 

You barely caught up to him, on the heels of him striding toward the elevators, jaw set, “Sonny—” 

“Counselor,” he replied coolly, and you frowned, “do you want to set a time for your client’s plea agreement?” 

“Yes, but—” the elevator dings and he steps in without another word. 

“I’ll send you and your office an email,” his smile is curt and cordial, but his words have an edge to them, “nice to see you again.” 

And the doors shut. 

So, you stare at the closed elevator doors, he was mad. 

"Can you believe—" 

Rollins sighs, leaning back against her sofa, head resting against the top, "No I can't, Carisi, just like I couldn't the first twenty times," she murmurs under her breath. 

He pauses, his jaw tight, “Am I annoying you?” 

“No, Sonny, but—” she gestures for him to sit, “you’re stressing me out with all that pacing, can you sit down?” 

Sonny collapsed into a chair, arms crossed and leg still bobbing up and down, “I always thought about what I would say when I saw—” he cuts off, “it was like no time had passed, acting like nothing had happened—” 

Amanda raises an eyebrow, “What did happen between you two?” Sonny falls silent, his eyes falling to the carpeted floor, “this is what I mean, you’re telling me half of the story and expecting me to have a reaction,” she pushes his knee, “what happened?” 

He said nothing, and Amanda sighs, “When I gave you the sweatshirt, you barely said anything, and now you’re not saying anything when you saw—” a cry breaks her sentence off, and they listen as the baby settles back down, “You know I always knew you had a thing for—” 

“I didn’t have a thing—” he cuts off when he sees her raise an eyebrow, “okay maybe I did, but it has nothing to do with this—” 

“If it doesn’t, then why are you mad?” 

“I’m mad,” his voice raises, before she shushes him, and he sighs, apologizing, “I’m angry because I didn’t get a goodbye.”  

You were gone. 

You were gone before he woke up. You were gone from S.V.U. before he came in. You were gone from your apartment when he came knocking — moved out. 

And he was only left with a note and a sweatshirt.

He continues, “I didn’t get a goodbye, but guess who recommended me for the A.D.A. position?” 

It hadn’t been long enough since the last time he had thought about you. And the last time was his interview for the A.D.A. position. 

“I’ll cut to the chase, son,” Jack said, making Sonny sit up straighter in his chair — he had spent the last forty-five minutes trying to impress Jack McCoy only for him to cut the chase now, “You know I’m not the type to mince my words, so I’ll ask you the question that really matters — why should we hire you over other candidates with more experience?” 

This was the question he was dreading — he fought the urge to tug at his collar or wipe the palms down the front of his pants. 

“Honestly, sir, I’ve thought about this question a lot, and yes, I don’t have the legal experience of some of the other candidates,” he didn’t — he had shadowing, he had done clinics, but he hadn’t practiced since being barred, “but I know S.V.U. — more than any of your candidates because I’ve seen these cases firsthand. Not only have I seen the cases, the victims, but I’ve worked with the team — I know the ins and the outs, and I’ve worked with A.D.A.s before—” he nearly flinched at the thought of you, “I know what I’m getting into — I know a lot of cases aren’t a win and I know we have to push sometimes, and I’m not afraid to do that,” he swallows, his throat dry — unable to discern the expression on Jack’s face, “You’ll have to train any candidate you have — whether they have practiced or not, especially when it comes to S.V.U., but you will have to teach one less thing, and it’s the most important one.” 

And after the longest moment, he smiles, and Sonny can barely hear what he says over his blood roaring in his ears, “I think you’re right,” 

“You do?” 

Jack laughs, “Don’t sound so surprised, Dominick,” he tilts his head, “after hearing you talk about your work in and out of the department, I thought you would have more faith in yourself.” 

And you would think that but— 

“I’ll work on that,” 

Jack smiles, clearing his throat, “Based on that and the recommendation I received from who you shadowed—” 

He frowns, “You talked to someone I shadowed?” 

When your name leaves his lips, he blinks, “Haven’t you spoken—” 

Not since leaving my apartment and disappearing, “Not in a long time,” he gives a tight smile, “How are—” 

“Doing great at Noble-Gordon as a defense attorney in the Bronx — giving the Bronx D.A. hell,” he smiles with pride, and he remembers how you had told him that McCoy had been one of your mentors, the man who had helped you become the attorney you are today — and now he was Sonny’s boss, “Better them than us, right?” 

“Sonny—” Amanda’s voice cuts through his thoughts. 

He gets to his feet again, walking towards the window, “Leaves, and then thinks to interfere in my life, doesn’t even bother to reach out, I haven’t heard a thing in years — years — but still gives me a recommendation,” he gives a bitter chuckle, “apparently our friendship meant that little.” 

Apparently he had meant that little. 

“I’m sorry, Sonny,” 

He shakes his head, “What are you sorry for?” he asks, getting to his feet — I got kissed. I got cut out. And I didn’t even get an explanation — “Nothing happened.” 

“I want jail time,” your head snaps up at the sound of Sonny’s voice, closing the door behind him, as you sat waiting in his office — the one that was next door to your old one, “at least six months.” 

“What?” No greeting, no handshake, no smile — that much you half-expected, but jail time— “it’s a first time offense, and it’s not 1980, we’re not in the war on drugs—” 

Sonny slides into his chair across from you his hands folded, “Counselor, your client isn’t an innocent school boy — he is an adult—” 

“Barely, he just turned 18—” 

“Exactly my point, he’s an adult, and—” 

“And no competent attorney would ever take that deal—” 

Sonny leans back in his seat, “Well a competent attorney would consider any deal in front of them, wouldn’t they?” 

And your eyes narrow, “My client will not accept anything more than probation with no jail time, and hell, maybe we'll even throw in drug tests in, but anything more is a disgrace to the legal system,” 

“Then I guess a jury can decide,” his jaw is set, and you see the quiet anger in his eyes — frigid as an icy lake, one that you were currently drowning in. His chair screeches as he moves to rise, and you stop him. 

“We both know this isn’t about the case, Sonny,” 

He raises an eyebrow, “Are you questioning my prosecutorial authority?” 

“Are you trying to send a barely adult first time offender to jail when it makes absolutely no sense?” he grits his teeth, “is that justice? Is that what you’ve learned in S.V.U.?” 

“I’m sorry that I’m not playing soft ball with you, counselor—” 

“I’m sorry that you’re trying to take your anger at me out on my client,” you snap, rising from the table. And it snaps him into silence, his eyes falling to his notes, brow furrowed, mouth a thin line. Your anger simmers slowly, but as you speak again, your voice is even, but tempered, “The way I see it — we have three options — one, get over yourself and let us make a reasonable plea agreement; two, I get someone else from my office to handle this; or three, we work out our issues like fucking adults and move on with this agreement,” 

His voice is quiet when he speaks, “So are we finally going to act like adults now?” 

You waver, “Sonny—” 

“After you cut me out with no explanation and left, I didn’t realize now we could act like adults,” he flips shut his leather folder, “I apologize for my behavior — maybe you’re right, someone else from your office should handle—” 

“I’m sorry,” you cut him off, and he doesn’t look up, “I’m so sorry, Sonny, I didn’t mean to—” you swallow, fuck, “I thought — I thought it would be easier after—” 

“Easier? For you or for me?” 

The truth cut deep, especially when you know it was true, “You’re right — I know, what I did,” you sigh, “It was awful — I was so embarrassed after how I treated you, after I kiss—” you break off, “I know I have a lot of things to make up for, but I want you to know that I didn’t cut you off because of anything you did — even if you know that already — it was me, I didn’t want to burden you—” 

“How did you think cutting me off wasn’t going to burden me?” his words are softer, but sharper, digging into your chest with the guilt you knew was yours only to bear, “how did you think losing one of my friends wasn’t going to— you kissed me after I picked you up, and then nothing for three years. Nothing.” 

“I wanted to call, I wanted to text—” 

“Then why didn’t you?” and you wonder if this is how a suspect felt when they were being interrogated by him, but surely his eyes weren’t nearly this glassy with emotions then, “You promised me — you promised me you would be there for me—” 

Your voice breaks, “Sonny—” 

“Do you know the hell I’ve gone through?” His voice is quiet, “do you know?” 

And you didn’t, “I don’t,” your words are quiet. “Because you’re right — it was easier, after what happened — not with you — with everything else, it was easier to cut ties and move on. It was easier to pretend none of it happened,” you admit, “but it wasn’t right — and I can’t change that. But I’m sorry,” you add, “and I know I have a lot of making up to do, if we ever can get to that point again, I would like to try.” 

His expression is inscrutable — and you know Sonny has changed, you could read him so easily before — an open book who’s pages that you had familiarized yourself with, his emotions scrawled clearly across his brow, nose, lips, and eyes. And now you could barely make out a single word. 

“Try?” 

“Try to be your friend,” you bite your lip, wringing your hands in your lap, “I missed you, Sonny, and I know I don’t have a right to say that, but I did. And seeing you has only made me realize how shitty I’ve been — please?” 

A frown pulls at his lips, and he wavers, before rising, tucking his folder into his briefcase, “Probation with weekly drug tests, and I want him do some community service—” 

“But—” 

“He’s spent years with a silver spoon in his mouth — let’s try to fix that,” and you tilt your head, hiding a smile. 

“I’ll talk to him about it,” you get up too, beginning to pack up your things even as you watch him turn to the door, “Can we discuss it over lunch? My treat.” 

He pauses, his back turned,  “I’m a little busy these next few weeks,” 

You wave him off, feeling your chest squeeze, rejection stinging — as it should, as you deserve — “Of course," nothing was that simple — trust was easy to lose, hard to get back. 

“But how about I call you?” you blink, as he looks over his shoulder, there’s a hint of a sigh in his throat, a certain sort of begrudged reluctance, but still an almost undetectable smile ghosts his lips — and you’ll take it. 

“You got it,” But it wasn’t impossible to earn trust back. Your heart swells with hope, your hand brushing as your hand moves to hold the door open — and you would get it back, one way or another. 

“Penny for your thought, counselor?” Sonny’s head snaps up, finding you standing, suit jacket slung over your arm, a smile on your lips, “I would say a dollar, but I know you took quite a pay cut compared to your old job.” 

“But I could make a buck prosecuting you for stalking,” and you scoff, looking at the table strewn with pages of briefs and yellow legal pads marked in reds, blacks and blues. It had been your fifth time running into him the last few weeks — and you had weaseled your way into conversations, though not a lunch. You were trying to earn his trust back, and you had gotten a little closer each time, but it didn’t mean it was all over and done with. 

The distrust still sat squarely in his expression — but this time it was being overwritten by something else — stress. 

You gape at him, affronted, “Forlini’s was mine before it was yours, thank you very much,” you gesture to the seat across from him, he grunts, nodding and you slide in, “I think I can settle for joint custody if you can.” 

“I’d fight ya on it, but,” he sighs, eyes flickering back to his notes, “I got my hands full already.” 

You purse your lips when you see the heaviness in his brow, “What’s wrong?” 

He gives a grim smile, “You already know what’s wrong,” 

Yes, you knew it well — your first tough case had the ability to unravel you to pieces, especially one from S.V.U., “Well, the facts aren’t any different when you’re the prosecutor versus the detective,” 

“But the job is completely different,” he shakes his head, covering his face, before wiping his palm down it, “and I don’t know what I’m doing.” 

You frown, “Have you eaten?” 

“Eating isn’t the problem,” he shoves his papers aside, a few wrinkling and falling under the booth, the legal pad slamming against the end of the booth. He squeezes his eyes shut, before relaxing, “sorry, I—” 

“No, trust me,” you catch a glimpse of the photos of one of the victims — a bruised and battered girl no older than fifteen, “I get the frustration, but you know there’s only so much you can do in these cases.” 

“I’m not doing enough,” he leans on his elbow, his fist pressed to his mouth, before resting it against his forehead, “I don’t know what I’m doing. I have my first grand jury tomorrow and I don’t even know what I’m doing.”  

“Sonny,” you resist the urge to reach out to him, “you can do this.” 

“You would say that,” he mutters, and you tilt your head,  “you recommended me for the job, McCoy told me.” 

“I didn’t recommend you — Jack was already looking at you, he asked for my opinion and I gave it,” you raise an eyebrow, “do I need to tell you now?” 

He shakes his head, “I—” 

“Sonny,” he looks up at you, “I have not an inch of doubt in your abilities — I’ve seen you grow as a detective and as a law student, and now,” you smile softly, “I’ve seen you grow as an attorney the last few weeks. You are ready — you know why?” 

He sighs, his hands folded on the table, “Because of my training?” 

“No,” you say, and he frowns, “because you are sensitive and kind, but you are also tough — tough enough to make the hard calls,” your hand brushes his tentatively, hovering before settling, “weren’t you nervous before becoming a detective? When you were a cop?” 

“I was, but I was confident, bordering on arrogant — I always went in, guns blazing, so to speak,” he adds, shaking his head at the implication, “now, I’m—” 

“Now you’re cautious — it comes with experience, that’s normal and good — overconfidence bites you in the ass, every time,” you squeeze his hand, “you will do great — and more importantly,” he raises his gaze to meet yours, “you will do your job and do it well — and that’s all you can do.” 

He purses his lips, “You really believe in me?” 

You scoff at his disbelief, “Sonny, I’ll always bet on you — every single time,” his gaze softens, a smile gracing his lips and your stomach flips when he squeezes your hand back. 

“Thank you,” his words are as soft as his touch, his fingers intertwined with yours for a moment, and your eyes flicker across his face — how was it you never realized just how beautiful he was? 

And the moment is broken when he pulls his hand away, gathering all his materials and slipping them into his bag, “If you need any help—” 

He frowns, “Y’know as well as I do that these cases are—” 

“I meant with your self-esteem or advice about how to phrase questions — no specifics and no actual questions,” you cross your arms, “I know about confidentiality and professional responsibility, counselor — I have been at this longer than you have. You could afford to take my advice.” 

He raises an eyebrow, teasing, “Pulling seniority? You’re not at the D.A.’s office anymore,” 

“But I know your boss,” you tease right back, and he rolls his eyes, as you lean forward, “and it’s ‘counselor’ to you,” 

He dares forward, “Well, counselor,” he replies, lips curled in a smile, “I’ll take it under advisement, and I’ll give my boss your best,” And he slips from the booth, pausing only to add, “do this again?” 

And you can’t hide your smile, “Next week?” 

He nods, slipping out of the doors from Forlini’s and you watch him, your eyes falling across the bar — and the two seats where you had sat, now reupholstered and refurbished — and then back again to the door he left from, before turning back to your booth. As you sat, his smile and the faint fluttering left in your chest, a smile you couldn’t stave off 

Things really did change, didn’t they? 

“Trial’s in a few weeks?” and Sonny nods, Rollins sips at her drink, “you have to testify, Amanda?” 

“Unfortunately,” she jerks a thumb towards Sonny, setting her drink down on the counter of the bar, “he’s been prepping me and it’s somehow worse than Barba.” 

The sting of his name hurt less, your easy smile not wavering, “I find that hard to believe,” 

“Oh believe me,” Amanda turns to Sonny, who sips at his drink sheepishly, “how long did we practice yesterday?” 

“Not important,” he brushes her remark off, as you and Amanda share a look and chuckle, “I just want to be ready — Hadid has been all over me about this trial. If she’s been looking for an excuse to fire me, this would be the perfect one.” 

“Hey,” your hand finds his, “you’re going to do great. You have practiced your closing a thousand times — I’ve heard it half a million times — you know what the points you have to make are. I know you’re ready.” 

He squeezes your hand back, smiling softly, “Thank you,” and butterflies bloom under his steady gaze, before he slips from the stool, “I’m going to use the bathroom, I’ll be right back,” his hand grazes your back before he finds his way to the restroom. 

You sip at your drink, before you find Amanda staring at you. You frown, placing the drink down, “What?” 

“What’s going on between you two?” 

You wrinkle your brow, as Amanda scratches her brow, her lips pursed.“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t want to get involved, but,” she craned her neck to check if Sonny was gone, “I know something happened between you two before you left,” Your head snaps to your drink, biting your lip, “I may be a detective, but it doesn’t take a genius to see that you two, whatever this is,” she gestures, “it’s not just a friendship,” 

You blink — but wasn’t it? “But—” 

“I don’t know how you feel, but I’m not blind,” she tilts her head, trying to catch your gaze, “just don’t hurt him okay?” 

“Amanda—” 

“I don’t need to hear specifics about what happened,” she shrugs, “I just want him to be okay ‘cause he may not be my partner now, but he is my best friend.” 

You nod, “Of course, I won’t, Amanda — I care about him too.”

But it was complicated. 

It was simple before — but it was different — you were in love with someone else — blinded. Sonny was your friend, one of your closest, but a friend nonetheless. Your stomach didn’t flip when you saw him, you didn’t text him so often, there weren't brief touches that you wished would last forever — like there was now. 

And you couldn’t deny it forever. 

Amanda chuckles, shaking her head, “I can’t believe I just said Carisi is my best friend,” 

You smile, “Guess he really grew on you after he shaved the ‘stache,” 

Amanda raised her eyebrows, snorting, “Like an infection,” 

You grinned, sipping at your drink, “What are you two laughing at?” and both of you share a smile, “what?” 

“Nothing, Sonny,” Amanda waves him off, “I gotta go — babysitter’s time is almost up, and I have to check on the girls,” Amanda nods at you, “It was nice to see you again, counselor.” 

“Same here, Amanda,” and she nods at Sonny, slipping from the bar, as he takes her seat, leaning against the counter, his knee brushing yours. The low light of the bar catches in his eyes, a dark blue that makes your heart stutter a moment as his lips curl into a smile. And you remember the moment you kissed him. 

“Now what?” you blink, biting your lip. 

Would it be so bad to fall in love with him?

To fall in love with an A.D.A. again? Falling into old habits?

“Walk me home?”  

And fall you would. 

~~~

It wasn’t a walk so much as it was a subway ride away and a walk to your apartment, “Do you ever miss the D.A.’s office?” and you spare a glance at Sonny. 

“Why? Want another person bossing you around the office?” he chuckles, licking his lips.

“When you put it like that,” and you laugh, “no, I just mean—” 

“You mean if I ever miss being on the right side of justice?” and he opens his mouth to retort, “I’m joking, Sonny — I mean criminal defense is a different way I can do justice — I get to take on a lot of the firm’s pro bono work and I get to help people who are at the lowest points of their lives put it back together.” 

“Even murderers?” he frowns. 

You bite your lip, “You saw the Ortiz case on the news didn’t you?” Ortiz, a husband who murdered his wife in cold blood — or that was the story the media and prosecutors’ were selling, “Did you read his interview?” 

He raises an eyebrow, “No?” 

“It turns out his wife had been abusive for years — verbally, emotionally, and physically—” your shoes scrape against the pavement, “he snapped when she turned it on their son.” 

“Is that an excuse—” 

“Yes, by law it is — it isn’t premeditated murder, it’s manslaughter,” you slip your hands into your pockets, “but even then, do people get any better locked up in cages?” 

“Do you think they should be—” 

“Walking free and clear? No,” you look up at the sky, “but you know in Sweden — they have one of, if not the, lowest recidivism rates? They have less than 4,000 prisoners, compared to America’s millions. It’s because they focus on rehabilitation, not punishment. Instead of locking up people in tiny cells and inhumane conditions, they give them care in all aspects of their lives — education, psychological help, medical — everything,” Sonny opens his mouth to interject, and you hold your hands up, “I’m not saying all people are capable of reform — but a lot of them are, and don’t we owe people that chance?” 

“But with S.V.U.—”

“With S.V.U., it’s more complicated — I won’t deny that, rapists are more likely to victimize again compared to other crimes,” you shake your head, “I don’t have all the answers, but I know locking people up and having them be victimized in prison isn’t the answer,” you offer a small smile, “but to answer your question, I miss the people, but I’m happy where I landed. I think it’s the right place for me.” 

“How do you know? I mean, how do you know it’s the right place?” 

You shrug, “You just feel it after some time—” you tilt your head, “where’s this coming from?” 

Sonny sighs, “I got a big case coming up in a week,” his hands slipped into his pockets, “My first trial.” 

“Hadid letting you off the leash?” he barks out a laugh. 

“Barely,” he shakes his head, “not that I blame her — this job, I swear I come home more tired than I did chasing down perps.” 

“That seems like a stretch, and hindsight bias,” you add, elbowing him before rubbing your shoulders, biting back a shiver — wearing only a suit coat out was a mistake, “besides I know you can handle it.” 

He unwraps his scarf, as you open your mouth to protest, but the scarf is already around your neck, and you can’t help but smile — it smells like him — “Sometimes I think you have more faith in me than I do,” 

“I have enough faith in you for the both of us,” you pull the scarf  snug around yourself, resisting the urge to bury your nose in it. You bite your lip, “is the gallery open to the public?” 

“Think so,” he nods. 

“Do you want me to be there in court?” the words come out carefully — afraid to cross a line you weren’t sure was there. 

“Watching the case?” 

“Just the verdict,” you say, “I didn’t get to be there for you when you passed the bar or when you got hired at the D.A.’s office — we could get dinner after — guilty verdict or not.” 

“Not gonna disappear on me for three years, are you?” you flinch, and he sighs, “sorry that came out wrong—” 

“It’s okay,” you smile ruefully, “I kind of deserved it, but,” you add, “I’m not going anywhere — and this time I mean it.” 

The quiet settled over you both for a moment, and you knew he was going to ask — you knew he was working up the courage to do so, “Why did you leave?” you cross your arms, “you don’t—” 

“I want to,” you shake your head — and you could see Rafael’s smile, feel his touch, and see his heart break — “It’s just complicated.” 

“So complicated that you had to leave?” he pressed, and you nodded. 

“I didn’t want to — but I had to,” you glance at him, see his brows knit together, “but the one thing I regretted and I will always regret is leaving you too, and I promise, I won’t do it again,” you reach for his hand, your fingers intertwining, just as you reach the doorstep of your apartment, “you can hold me to that.” 

He stares down at you, the flickering light of your apartment barely illuminating his face, but a soft smile on his lips, “I will, sweetheart,” and warmth bloomed in your stomach — no, you really couldn’t deny it anymore could you? But he squeezes your hand, stepping back, “See you in a week?” 

You lick your lips, heart thumping in your ears — you nod, “Yeah,” you feel his coat around your shoulders, “oh your scar—” 

He waves you off, “Keep it,” he walks down your steps, turning around, pointing a finger at you, grinning, “But make sure Rollins isn’t the one bringing it by.” 

You hear the humor in his voice and smile, “No promises.” 

And you spare one more glance at his returning back, before slipping inside your apartment building and into your apartment. Your fingers fisted in the soft red cotton of his scarf — your cheeks and heart warm.  

Oh, what were you getting yourself into? 

Sonny tried not to glance behind him — you still hadn’t arrived. His nerves were shot after this week — everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong. 

Of course it did — it did little to inspire faith in himself, or in Hadid for that matter. 

“All rise,” Judge Abbas said, and Sonny had to stop himself from jumping to his feet — he knew, he knew in his gut that he had given his best case, though this case was sticky to begin with, “Foreperson of the jury, what say you on the charge of rape in the second degree?” 

Sonny’s heart jumped into his throat, blood roaring in his ears, and he barely caught the verdict, mouth dry — the feeling of the victims’ gazes boring into the back of his head. 

“We find the defendant guilty,” and he nearly couldn’t believe it — he had done it, they had done it. The judge announces they will reconvene for sentencing in two weeks. He turns around, shaking the hands of the victims, thanking them for their testimony, sparing one glance at the defendant. 

Adneradline and relief is pumping through him, his chest lighter — he had done it, he had gotten justice. 

And then he sees you — through the crowd, you’re standing by the door, smiling brightly at him, mouthing congratulations, jerking your head and slipping from the courtroom. He nearly trips over himself to get to you, trying to maintain decorum as he leaves through the double doors. He slips by people he knows and those he doesn’t until finally he finds you in a discrete corner of the courthouse, away from prying eyes and reporters. 

“Sonny, I’m so proud of you,” you say, your hands on his shoulders, your lips curled in a smile he hoped that was just for him, “I knew you could do it,” 

And you did — you had told him he could do it time and time again when he didn’t believe in himself, you had been there for him, as you promised to be. 

Everything slows for a moment. 

And he couldn’t help think you were the only one he needed to believe in him, to be by his side, the one he wanted to tell good news first, the one he wanted to wake up beside in the morning. He’s breathless as he looks at you, and you seem to realize — the air between you two becoming thick, as he looms closer, a bag on your arm, slipping to your fingers now.  

“Sonny,” you breathe, as you tilt your head upwards to look into his eyes.

And he knows this may be a mistake — the last time he kissed you, you disappeared, and every relationship he’s had has ended in disaster, but he can’t bring himself to care — not when he could kiss you again. 

“Can I kiss you?” the words slip past his lips without much to-do, and he has to stop himself from biting his tongue or stumbling back, especially when you nod, and his lips crash to yours. 

His kiss is still hesitant, and so are you, your lips parting and meeting again and again — chaste, but he tasted you — and he swore he never tasted anything like you before, nothing so sweet. And he pulls away a moment, eyes fluttering and he sees your eyes do the same. And his heart is in his throat again — what if you thought it was a mistake? 

But you only smile, your warm hand cupping his cheek, the bag slipping from your fingers, as the other intertwines with his fingers, “Where do you think you’re going?” 

And you kiss him again, and he doesn’t hold back this time, his arms wrapping around you, tugging you impossibly closer, smiling against your lips. And he couldn’t help but think — as warmth bloomed in his stomach, your fingers curling in his hair — how did he ever get so lucky?

[innuendostyles]

Your from the UK right??? Not to make u sad but imagine going to Asda with Ben at 2 in the morning (u only went for some milk) and u end up coming out with almost the entire shop in ur trolley 😂😂 Happens to the best of us

YAY

“We’re only going for milk.” He quietly mumbled as he aimed the keys at the car and pressed the lock button, hearing the sound of the mechanisms working to ensure the car wouldn’t get stolen from the car park. He held his hand out for you to take before he crossed the zebra crossings, giving a silent nod to a car that’d stopped so the two of you could pass.

It was a gentle reminder but also a jest at himself, considering the last time he’d gone to Asda this late, he’d returned home with a new DVD player for your living room, an abundance of on-sale Easter chocolate, and a DIY friendship bracelets set (it was located in the 6 years and over section, but he wouldn’t tell anyone that part.)

The bracelets aforementioned had been tied to your wrists for a month and a half now, yours was a braided black, white and yellow band while his was black, white and red. He somehow matched his outfit, black jogging bottoms, a red Nike hoodie and the best part of all…. socks with sliders. You’d claim that if he wore those out of the house, you’d pretend not to know him, but later decided that it was more endearing than embarrassing. His socks were black with red love hearts printed all over them, some you’d got him for Valentine’s Day as he claimed that “a pair of socks is the best present you could ever buy a man.”

You, on the other hand, wore a pair of black leggings, paired with an extremely worn “Rolling Stones 1979 Tour” acid wash t-shirt. Ben had insisted that you wear one of his jackets, given the fact that your local Asda always seemed to be freezing around this time, so it was topped off with a navy blue Nike Air Max windbreaker. Your fluffy bed socks really pulled the outfit together.

You each had one of Ben’s AirPods in your ear, currently listening to a song by The Lumineers, one that Ben described to you as making him feel as if he was “running down a sandy beach trying to get to you.” His pinky finger slid around your pinky finger as he strayed to the shelter where all the trolleys (shopping carts) were located.

He always pushed the trolley, claiming his driving skills were better than yours, but you knew the only reason he enjoyed pushing them so much was so he could “fly down the aisles”, an act in which he would push the cart extremely fast when there was nobody near you, and lift his feet from the ground, letting the cart take all his weight.

The song ended and changed to a Snoop Dogg song, to which you quirked an eyebrow, asking, “What fucking playlist is this?” with a laugh.

You walked through the sliding doors, Ben already getting distracted by some plants that were on clearance at the front doors, silently placing 2 small plant pots with some sort of pink flower in the middle into the cart.

There was a display as soon as you entered the shop floor, a large green cardboard cut out of the grinch, next to it sitting a handful of Christmas DVD’s, letting all the customers know that they could “Buy 1 Christmas DVD and receive a free 9” pizza”. Ben’s eyes immediately lit up, turning his head towards yours as he exclaimed that Christmas films and food are two of his favourite things ever. You shook your head in disbelief as you picked through the DVD’s, most of them being new and animated films you’d never heard of.

You were looking for one in particular, though you had little faith that it would be in the same pile as these cartoon ones. Ben loved The Nativity, one of the funniest Christmas films in the world, he reckons. He thought Martin Freeman was one of the best actors ever, and that along with Marc Wootton, it had to be the best film ever.

You rifled through the array of cases, finally picking out a white cover that read, “The Nativity!” You placed it in the cart, seeing Ben’s eyes light up as he bounced up and down in excitement, like a child.

“Can we get pepperoni on the pizza? Please!” He whined, earning a “yes” from you, to which he skipped down the aisle and giggled like a schoolboy.

You reached the fridges, Ben picking up 2 pints of milk and putting them in the trolley before giving an accomplished nod.

“Can we ‘ave a look at some vinyls?” He asked, with a pleading pout that he knew always won you over.

“Ooh, yeah actually, Gwil said he wanted the Hamilton vinyl a couple of weeks ago. Might be a good present, yeah?” You suggested, knowing it would result in Ben realising he hadn’t yet bought Christmas presents for any of his friends yet, something you’d been trying to gently remind him of for the last couple of weeks.

You made your way to the music section, getting distracted by anything and everything you could find. Ben was clinging onto a t-shirt with a green dinosaur on it, lit up by Christmas lights with a star on top of its head, the phrase “Tree-Rex” printed underneath it.

He held up the knitted fabric to you, and you both whispered, “Joe.” at the exact same time. It was folded and placed into the cart.

A pack of 250 small Christmas cards was the next thing to grab your attention, Ben telling you that the two of you “had to send the neighbours a card this year, considering the amount of times they’ve had to endure foolish giggles and the  creaky bed really late at night!” You’d simply nodded with a chuckle, though he didn’t put them in straight away. He noticed the box had been busted open at the top and went on a hunt for an unopened box. He reached his arm all the way back into the shelf, jokingly asking you to hold his hand so he didn’t get lost. He finally grabbed a pack, throwing them into the trolley from about a meter away and doing a celebratory dance when they went in.

One of the lights overhead flickered, which caused Ben to turn to you with an over-exaggerated gasp, claiming “Asda is haunted!!!!” and running away from you frantically. You guffawed at his antics, lightly jogging after him while trying to catch your breath from laughing.

After collecting your pizza on the way to the music section, Ben made a quick turn down the homeware section. He browsed the cushion cases, holding up a few colours and patterns that he thought may match your living room sofa, all of which received a horrified glare from you (this was the exact reason you didn’t let him take the lead when you decided to start decorating your flat together… his first suggestion was warm brown walls with a stripy turquoise and black sofa…)

He reached the mirror section, finding an extremely large plain mirror, with no frame, slowly running his finger over the edge of it.

“Might buy us this for Christmas.” He stated.

Your brows raised in confusion, tilting your head to tell him you were unsure why he’d said it.

“One of them naughty mirrors…… when you put it on the ceiling so I’d be able to see everything when you’re ridi-“  your hand quickly shot over his mouth, your eyes widening as you took in what he meant. You could feel his lips sporting a smirk beneath your palm. You shook your head and giggled along with him.

“C'mon babe… know you’d love seeing this juicy cheeks every time I’m on top of you…” you lightly smacked his chest and delivered a sharp, yet humorous, “enough!”.

Once you’d finally made it to the music section, Ben appeared to be in his element. He’d picked up the Hamilton vinyl for Gwilym, as well as a new Ariana Grande record for Lucy. He was eyeing up Taylor Swift’s newest release, hoping you wouldn’t notice when he slipped it into the cart. He groaned when you looked him directly in the eyes and shook your head with a knowing smile on your face.

“I was gonna give you that for Christmas! Now you’ve ruined the surprise!” He whined with a pout.

“You are all I want for Christmas.” You replied, already cringing wondering if anyone else had heard you.

He, too, shook his head, but still gave you a quick kiss on the cheek to show his appreciation for you.

The next aisle was the clearance aisle. This was a dangerous one for Ben. His Mum had always taught him “never to pass up a bargain, cause you’ll see it one day, regret not buying it, go back the next day and it’ll be gone!”.

Within 5 minutes of browsing the shelves, he’d picked up a large Christmas-themed Yankee Candle gift set for his brother, a turkey-shaped dog toy for Frankie (this one you’d suggested) as well as a pack of 3 photo frames and a new flower vase for his mum.

Walking to the checkout was always a dangerous game, as the bakery part of the shop was located right next to all the tills. He’d always claim to be “just looking” while you unloaded the trolley onto the moving belt so the cashier could scan your items, and most times he only came back with a box of flapjacks or at the most, 2 jam donuts and a reduced fat chocolate eclair cake.

What you weren’t expecting today, however, was for your boyfriend to return with a basket he’d picked up from somewhere, filled with pastries and cakes that made your mouth water.

“These’ll be alright til Christmas Eve won’t they? Can watch Nativity with our little pizza ‘n then fill ourselves wi’ these after? Yeah?” You didn’t really get a chance to reply before the food was placed down onto the belt. You’d never seen him so happy with himself, thinking he’d just come up with the best idea in the entire world, even though you’d done basically the same thing for the last 2 years of spending Christmas together.

The cashier gave you your total, a whopping £110, even though you’d originally come in for 2 pints of milk, which should’ve brought your total to around…. £3.

He shook his head with a small smile as he took his card out of his wallet, swiping it over the reader and thanking the lady when she gave him his receipt. He rolled the trolley out onto the car park, you following closely behind telling him to unlock the car so you’d be able to hear the beep it made and find it, considering how dark it was outside. After locating the vehicle, he gently placed all the items in the backseat, taking extra care to make sure the pizza was cushioned by Joe’s new shirt and Frankie’s new toy. He dropped the trolley back off at the shelter before getting into the car, strapping his seatbelt and turning the radio on.

Paul McCartney’s “Wonderful Christmastime” filled the speakers, causing Ben to let out a quiet, “What a fuckin’ banger!”.

You couldn’t resist the urge to lean over and give him a peck on the cheek and a ruffle of his hair. You simply were having a wonderful Christmas time.

[spidernerdsblog]

I Forgot That You Existed : Chapter Six

A/N: Chapter six is here. Emotions, that makes us human right? It creates attachment with people a bond which is very hard to break sometimes these emotions become uncontrollable and leads to unpleasant circumstances. Y/N has had enough of this; she is ready to confront and settle things for good even if she has to reveal a deep buried secret of hers. I hope you like this chapter. Feedbacks and suggestions are always welcome.

Pairing : Tom Holland × Singer reader

Summary : It's been more than five years since you and Tom have gone their own ways after a heartbreaking breakup which had left both of you shattered. Both of you thought that you were finally over with each other and were happy in your respective lives until you meet again at a reunion trip planned by your best friend and you realise you are still not done with each other.

Warnings : 18+, mature content, adultery, mentions of sex, heated arguments.

Mini Playlist : I knew you were trouble and I think he knows by Taylor Swift, Pretty please by Dua Lipa, Senorita by Camila Cabello and Shawn Mendes.

 Tom slowly entered his room shutting the door softly. He went to the dressing table, unbuckled his watch and placed it there. El hugged him from the back startling him.

“You are still awake love?”

“Yeah couldn’t sleep alone in this big house. How was the carnival?”

“Good,” Tom said, unbuttoning his t-shirt. El placed her palms flat on his bare chest.

“I missed you” her eyes were glassy. She went for a kiss but Tom pulled away.

“Mmmph darling I’m tired, need to rest” he kissed her forehead and went to sleep. It didn’t go unnoticed by El that he smelled different. The smell was quite familiar to her but she couldn’t remember. Even his lips tasted different from the usual chapstick he uses.

You spent the whole night turning sides on your bed occasionally dozing off.

Tom wanted to talk to you so badly. He really needed to know what you were thinking. Whatever happened tonight, what does that mean to you? But you were nowhere to be found the next day. He searched the whole house for you. He was restless. When you didn't turn up for breakfast he couldn't contain his curiosity.

“Umm Z where's your soulmate? Isn't she gonna have her breakfast? "

“She's not here Tom."

“What! She went back to LA or what?” He forcefully chuckled to hide his concern.

“She left early for her rehearsal dickhead." Zendaya scoffed.

“Oh okay” he nodded.

Is she trying to avoid me? Tom thought.

You were actually trying to avoid him as much as possible. You didn’t have the courage to face him so you woke up early and went to the stage ground for rehearsals. You were preparing your song which you felt was apt for the current situation you are dealing in life.

'Cause I knew you were trouble when you walked in So shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been 'Til you put me down, oh I knew you were trouble when you walked in So, shame on me now Flew me to places I'd never been Now I'm lyin' on the cold hard ground Oh, oh Trouble, trouble, trouble Oh, oh Trouble, trouble, trouble

“Am I really trouble?” Steve quipped

“What?” You giggled

“You could have called me. I would have picked you up. By the way, why so early today?”

“Nothing just thought I have only a few days left, gotta put up a great show before I leave”

“Don’t stress yourself out so much, you are a star, all will be fine.”

You came back later in the afternoon all tired. Zendaya was asleep soft music playing from the speaker. You turned up the volume. Zendaya woke up.

“Oh you're finally back. I thought you were going to spend the night with Steve.” She mumbled rubbing her eyes.

“Oh we are not there yet honey.” You gave a half smile

“The house seems pretty quiet. Where are the others?"

“They are all sitting on the beach watching the sunset. I should go and join them. You freshen up and come fast.”

“Yeah.” You went to the bathroom to freshen up. You changed to a white lacy backless dress with spaghetti straps as you were brushing your hair listening to the music, you suddenly felt like dancing.

 Pretty Please playing

(Somewhere in the middle I think I lied a little I, I said if we took it there, I wasn't gonna change But that went out the window, yeah)

 Singing and dancing has always been your stress buster. So you used to randomly break into a dance to lift your spirits. And to be honest you were a little turned on after yesterday's heated moment.

(I know that I seem a little stressed out But you're here now, and you're turning me on I wanna feel a different kind of tension Yeah, you guessed it, the kind that's fun I hate it when you leave me unattended 'Cause I miss ya, and I need your love But my mind is running wild, could you help me slow it down?)

You looked into the mirror singing the lines putting down the hair brush. You huffed as you sat down on the stool trailing your hand across your face brushing it down your neck. Resting your chin on your hands you made a sad pout acting of missing someone whose touch you long for.

(Put my mind at ease

Pretty please I need your hands on me Sweet relief Pretty please)

 Tom came back to the house to grab some more beer as he heard faint music coming from your room. He thought maybe you have finally returned. He had been eager to talk to you the whole day and this is the best chance as the house is empty. He went upstairs. The door of your room was slightly open enough to be visible from outside. He peeped inside; the dressing table was parallely placed to the door so he could clearly see your reflection in the mirror. And boy he was mesmerized. He soaked in the image of your body, of the dress you were wearing. Soft sunlight of the dusk was radiating on your body accentuating your features. 

(Exactly where I want me, yeah Underneath your body, yeah If we take it further, I swear I ain't gonna break So baby, come try me, baby, come find me Baby, don't wind me up)

You swayed your body to the music as you sensually lay down on the bed and took the bunny which Tom won for you yesterday in your hands hugging it tight. As you squirmed under nothing, you rolled on the bed and lay flat on your stomach.

(I know that I seem a little stressed out But you're here now, and you're turning me on I wanna feel a different kind of tension Yeah, you guessed it, the kind that's fun I hate it when you leave me unattended 'Cause I miss ya, and I need your love But my mind is running wild, could you help me slow it down?)

Resting your chin on your hand looking at the bunny as if it's a living person pretending to tell it how stressed out you are, how you longed for someone to touch you. You got up from the bed keeping it aside. You ran your hands through your hair.

(Put my mind at ease Pretty please I need your hands on me Sweet relief Pretty Put my mind at ease Trickle down my spine Boy, you look so pretty please Every single night I need your hands on me When your kiss is kind Oh, you give me sweet relief Make me feel so pretty Would you help me out please?)

 You sensually danced around the room. Your hands roaming around your body. You ran your hands from your neck brushing your collarbone, slowly sliding down from your body to your thighs as you grabbed the hem of your dress slightly tugging it upwards revealing your toned thigh muscles. Your hands erotically brushing upwards your body cupping your breasts slightly squeezing them. Tom felt heat rising in his body, sirens going off in his head. Every movement of yours was teasing the hell out of him. He felt the heat slowly running south.

(I hate it when you leave me unattended 'Cause I miss ya, and I need your love But my mind is running wild, could you help me slow it down?)

You suddenly noticed that the door was open, you skipped to the beat as you went to close the door, but you froze as you saw Tom standing there his pupils were dilated, jaws clenched, hands tightened into fists. 

(Put my mind at ease Trickle down my spine Boy, you look so pretty please Every single night I need your hands on me When your kiss is kind Oh, you give me sweet relief Make me feel so pretty Would you help me out please?

Pretty please)

You hurriedly shut the door and as the next song started to play you turned it off. You went to the dressing table to continue brushing your hair. Your face was red with embarrassment at the thought that you were dancing around like a slut while your ex watched you.

Tom couldn't take it anymore he twisted the door knob to open the door and get inside your room. You looked with anticipation as the door opened. You watched Tom enter. He licked his lips glancing at you from top to bottom then turning to lock the door. He turned on the music again.

Senorita playing

(I love it when you call me señorita I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya But every touch is ooh la la la It's true, la la la Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you keep me coming for ya)

You could see Tom's eyes have gone a few shades darker. You swallowed hard as he slowly made his way towards you

(Land in Miami The air was hot from summer rain Sweat dripping off me Before I even knew her name, la la la It felt like ooh la la la Yeah, no Sapphire moonlight We danced for hours in the sand Tequila sunrise Her body fit right in my hands, la la la It felt like ooh la la la, yeah)

Pretending to not care about his presence you continued to stuff your things in your sling bag to go out. Tom stepped closer to you; he shoved his face in your hair breathing in your intoxicating smell, brushing his nose on your neck grabbing your shoulders.

(I love it when you call me señorita I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya But every touch is ooh la la la It's true, la la la Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you know I love it when you call me señorita I wish it wasn't so damn hard to leave ya But every touch is ooh la la la It's true, la la la Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you keep me coming for ya)

He brushed aside your hair and gently kissed on your shoulder slowly brushing his lips upwards from your collarbone to your neck and then to the sweet spot behind your ear. His fingers digging into your skin. You gasped looking away from the mirror. You slowly turned your gaze to the mirror to see your reflection all flushed out. Your eyes met his lustful eyes. He turned you towards him, your back against the mirror, hands gripping on the edge of the table. His hands ran down to your waist gripping it tightly as you squeaked. He pressed his forehead on yours, his eyes were droopy, you looked at him innocently both breathing unevenly.

“Wha.. What are you doing Tom?” You fumbled. Tom drew his finger along your jawline holding up your chin.

“Nothing you don't like love.” He caught your lips for a kiss. You whimpered at his touch. 

(Locked in the hotel There's just some things that never change You say we're just friends But friends don't know the way you taste, la la la 'Cause you know it's been a long time coming Don't you let me fall, oh

Ooh, when your lips undress me Hooked on your tongue Ooh love, your kiss is deadly Don't stop)

Tom started guiding you towards the bed. Back of your knees hit the edge of the bed as you stumbled on the bed with Tom over you. He hovered around you caressing your cheek with one hand slowly moving down to your breast gently massaging it over the dress simultaneously littering soft kisses on your face. You tried to resist as you pushed him aside and got off the bed to stand facing the wall. Tom frowned as he got up to you. He went and held onto your shoulders gliding his hands down to your elbows. You again pushed his hands away crossing your arms around your chest facing away from him.

(I love it when you call me señorita I wish I could pretend I didn't need ya But every touch is ooh la la la It's true, la la la Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you know I love it when you call me señorita I wish it wasn't so damn hard to leave ya But every touch is ooh la la la It's true, la la la Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you keep me coming for ya)

"Tom, stop, it's wrong, we shouldn't do this." You begged him.

He turned you around and stood tall caging you against the wall, his hands on both sides of your head, knee placed between your legs.

"It's too late, babygirl." his hot breath falling on your face.

His lips ghosted yours as his hands moved to your shoulders holding on to your dress's thin straps, he slid them down. Burying his head in the crook of your neck sucking on your smooth skin his hand travelled down between your legs to feel the pool of heat.

“Your body is saying otherwise princess.” he whispered in your ear rubbing your clothed core.

(All along I've been coming for ya And I hope it meant something to ya Call my name, I'll be coming for ya Coming for ya, coming for ya, coming for ya

For ya (oh, she loves it when I come) For ya

Ooh, I should be running Ooh, you keep me coming for ya)

Even though your body was ready to give in to this momentary temptation, your mind kept reminding you that this will be cheating on El. You couldn't take this anymore tears filling your eyes. You bursted out.

“Tom! No! stop!! Are you fucking out of your mind!! .” You pushed him hard this time.

“Love, did I do something wrong? I'm sorry” he cupped your cheeks with concerned eyes.

“No! don't touch me!" you were crying as you swatted away his hands.

You felt angry and vulnerable as you fixed your straps. Your hair was already a mess. You somehow tied a ponytail and put on your denim jacket to hide the marks Tom had left on you sliding your bag across, you stormed out of your room.

“Y/N! wait don't go, listen to me we can talk this over!” Tom called you back

You ran down the stairs wiping your tears, out of the house as you strode away in the direction of the cliff.

“Hey Y/N! where are you going?” Harrison called out to you

You tried to avoid their calls as you walked away huskily.

“What happened to her?” Paddy asked

“We should go and check” Harry suggested

“No, don't go. She seems a little miffed let her cool down. She will herself come back.” Zendaya stopped them. She saw Tom coming after you and instantly knew something happened between you two.

You went to the cliff and sat on the edge of it looking over the ocean. The sun was setting in the horizon as tears trickled down your cheeks. You contemplated what is happening to you? Why can’t you control your emotions? You thought of taking a walk down the nearby market to clear your mind so you texted Zendaya that you will be late. When you returned home it was already past ten as you sneakily went up to your room. You were passing by Tom's room as you heard moans like the night before. You rolled your eyes thinking here I'm sneaking into my room after having a mental breakdown all thanks to you Tom and here you are busy shagging totally unfazed. You were about to go to your room when you heard Tom moaning your name.

“Fuck Y/N!!” you froze at your place

You opened your mouth in shock, a slight smirk creeping in your face. You went near the door and placed your ear on it to listen to what was happening. You could hear Tom and El arguing. Soon you heard footsteps coming towards the door you quickly ran towards your room and stood behind the door keeping it slightly open. You saw Tom rushing down the stairs as El called out

“Tom, wait! Listen to me you can't go like this!”

Zendaya grasped your shoulder from back and you jumped out of fear.

“Oh! you nearly gave me a heart attack.” You gasped, putting a hand on your chest.

You both heard El slamming the door.

“Trouble in paradise?” Zendaya smirked

“No it's actually serious Z. They were having sex and my name slipped out of Tom's mouth.”

“What?!!” Z burst into laughter

“It's not funny Z.” you rolled your eyes

“How come it's not? It's like that F.R.I.E.N.D.S episode where Ross says Rachel's name instead of Emily on the aisle. The only difference Tom said it while having sex” she burst into laughter again

"Okay leave them first tell me where were you? What happened that you stormed away like that?” Zendaya asked

“Yeah I was going to tell you about that only. Can we sit?”

“Okay before you start can you be honest and tell me what is going on between you and Tom?”

“Umm nothing serious actually” you shrugged

“What do you mean by nothing serious?” Zendaya frowned

“Umm we may or may not have kissed” you winced.

“Woah hold on a damn second you did what?!

“We kissed.”

“When?! Where?!”

“Yesterday at the carnival on the ferris wheel. Okay that was totally a harmless kiss”

“How come kissing your ex is harmless Y/N?”

“That is what I thought before today.”

“Today? What happened today?"

You took off your jacket to show her the masterpiece Tom had drawn on you with his mouth. Zendaya’s eyes went wide seeing the reddish marks.

“Don't tell me you guys had sex.”

“No thankfully we didn't”

“So what are these then?”

“Umm after you left I was actually getting ready and what got in my head I don't know I felt like dancing. You had left the door open, slightly your fault too. And he saw me dancing around seductively in this ridiculously revealing dress with no back which got him riled up. Then things escalated pretty quickly. I didn’t understand what to do so I yelled at him to stop wherever it was leading to. Then I was so mentally disturbed so I ran to the cliff to clear my mind” you rambled

“Oh my god all this happened and you are saying it to me now. What have you got yourself into Y/N?”

“I know. What should I do now?” You gave her a panicked look.

“I don’t know but for now try to be calm and pretend as if nothing happened. El should not get to know anything about this. Oh by the way tomorrow is backyard movie night”

“Uggh!! I hate movie nights the movie marathon is really tiring”

“I think you should invite Steve”

“I'll ask him if he wanna join.”

The next day you were forced to wear a turtleneck to hide those marks which were still persistent. Thankfully nobody asked you why you were wearing a turtleneck in such warm weather.

“You don't have rehearsal today?”Harry asked

“Oh no we are taking a day off.”

“Is Steve coming today?”

“Yeah he is. I told him to come early he could help you guys setting up the things”

A lot of work had to be done today for the movie night. The boys put out the mattresses and comforters. The screen was fixed. You helped Sam in the kitchen with the snacks maintaining a safe distance from Tom.

After everything was done you and Steve went to your room to sit down for a while.

“This is definitely the best summer vacation I have had in recent years.” Steve spread out himself on the bed. You sat beside him smiling.

“For me it's after six years.”

“If you don't mind can I ask you something?”

“About what happened between us?”

“Yeah only if you don't mind.”

“Our ambitions came in between so we parted ways. It took a toll on me not gonna lie and now I’m too scared to emotionally get attached with anyone without hurting them that’s why I have never been in any serious relationship after that” You sighed.

“Maybe you should give yourself another chance” he got up and hold your hand rubbing his thumb on the back of your hand. His eyes were twinkling.

You were sitting side by side. You glanced at each other. His eyes moving between your eyes and lips. Steve leaned in lips brushing yours as if he was testing the waters and then he closed the gap as you reciprocated. His hands went to your waist pulling you closer, your hands went on to his shoulders without breaking the kiss he slowly laid down on the bed, you on top of him.

“Hey Y/N!! Z wants you downstairs” Tom barged in your room. He froze seeing you both.

“Aah I'm sorry my fault, carry on you two I'll make up an excuse for you.”

You both hurriedly got up, flushing with embarrassment at Tom seeing you in such a compromising position.

“It wasn't what it looked like Tom, we weren't doing anything.” You tried to reason.

“It's okay Y/N it happens next time lock the door.” Tom said, looking down to his feet disappointment clear in his voice.

......................................

In the evening everyone gathered at the backyard for the movie night. Everybody took their spots. You went and sat in front of Steve stretching your legs out leaning yourself on him. He embraced you in a cuddle hands wrapping around you. As the movie started everyone was watching the movie but your and Tom’s focus was somewhere else. You both stole glances of each other cuddled up with your respective partners.

After sometime everyone wanted to take a break and have something to eat so the movie was paused.

“Y/N please one song to lighten up the night” Jacob requested

“Am I your live radio or what?” You joked

“Pleaaase Y/N for me" Steve pouted

“Okay, okay.” You agreed. “This is actually for you.” You winked whispering in Steve’s ear.

You took the guitar and started playing

I think he knows his footprints On the sidewalk Lead to where I can't stop Go there every night

I think he knows his hands around A cold glass Make me wanna know that body Like it's mine

“You go girl!!” Chloe lightly punches your arm

He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans It's like I'm seventeen, nobody understands No one understands

You winked at Chloe

He got my heartbeat Skipping down 16th Avenue Got that, oh! I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude Like, I want you, bless my soul And I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows I think he knows

I think he knows When we get all alone I'll make myself at home And he'll want me to stay

I think he knows He better lock it down Or I won't stick around 'Cause good ones never wait

A smirk plastered in your face as you looked at Tom. Yes you don’t wait anymore for anyone.

He got that boyish look that I like in a man I am an architect, I'm drawing up the plans He's so obsessed with me, and boy I understand Boy I understand

He got my heartbeat Skipping down 16th Avenue Got that, oh! I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude Like, I want you, bless my soul And I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows I think he knows

I want you, bless my I want you, bless my I want you, bless my I want you, bless my soul

Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks, I'll drive Lyrical smile, indigo eyes, hand on my thigh We can follow the sparks, I'll drive

You look up to Steve, his hands rubbing the side of your thighs.

So where we gonna go? I whisper in the dark Where we gonna go? I think he knows

You danced your eyebrows look at him.

He got my heartbeat Skipping down 16th Avenue Got that, oh! I mean Wanna see what's under that attitude Like, I want you, bless my soul And I ain't gotta tell him I think he knows I think he knows

Steve leaned down and kissed your cheek.

 “Okay guys let’s play a game, answer this would you rather go back to age 5 with everything you know now or know now everything your future self will learn? Harry asked

 “Oooh that’s a very deep question to start with.  I would definitely like to know the future.” Jacob said 

 “Me too my life is so far going good.” Zendaya stated. All agreed to it 

 “Nah I’m definitely gonna go back to age 5 and prevent myself to do some things wish I had never done.” You shrugged 

“Yeah me too” Tom agreed with you. You both glanced at each other. 

“OK long drive in a car or a bike ride?” Ed asked to lighten the tension in the environment.

“I'm totally enjoying bike rides currently.” You giggled looking up to Steve.

 “Bike rides are fun and adventurous but come on we can’t ignore the awesome sex we can have in a car. Am I right Ed” Chloe winked at him.Everyone laughed and agreed to it.

 “Ironman or Spiderman?” Paddy asked excitedly

“Absolutely Ironman” you declared.

Half of them settled on ironman and other half on spider man

“For me it's always batman" Harrison said proudly Everyone laughed. 

“Would you rather have a perfect love life or a successful career?” El asked

“Man I need a love life” Harrison groaned

“Me too” Zendaya, Harry, Tuwaine agreed unanimously

“What happened to that blonde?” you quipped

“I don’t remember any blonde” Harrison shrugged

“What about you Y/N?” El asked

“I know. Career has always been her first priority, nothing else matters to her.” Tom jabbed.

“You know me so well honey. Afterall 10 Grammys in my name and chartbuster albums one thing I have learnt love, physical attraction are momentary distractions; it messes up your mind. So focus on your career, earn money and enjoy your life.” 

“Oooh that was deep.” Tuwaine remarked

“I think I can make you change your views on that darling.” Steve grinned.

“Try your best.” You winked

“Okay my turn cheating on your partner or getting cheated by your partner?” You side eyed Tom. Tom clenched his jaws. 

“Both are awful I guess.” Sam said.Everyone agreed to it. 

“Okay my turn would you rather Kiss your ex or kiss a stranger?” Tom asked looking at you directly

"Uhh excuse me guys I need to go to the bathroom" you felt a little uneasy as you understood where things are going to so to avoid any kind of conflict you got up to go giving an excuse

“Always trying to run away eh?” 

“What?” you turned

“Running away and denying the truth has always been your thing.”

“What is your problem Tom? I'm not getting it.” You frowned 

“What's my problem? You are the biggest problem of my life Y/N!” Tom got up from his place and stood in front of you.

“Guys stop it, what are you doing?” Harrison came to intervene. 

“No, no wait let him speak” You stopped Harrison “let me also hear what he has to say. I'm sick of this daily drama. Let's finish this once in and for all. Please continue Tom.”

 “For the past six years you were nowhere to be seen around us and now you suddenly come back and start playing with my feelings acting like such a good and caring friend.” 

“I think you should rejog your memory of who is to be blamed for me not being around here? It was you who made sure that I avoid being around you.. You made it impossible for me to stay here.” 

“I made it impossible?! You yourself were responsible for your miseries Y/N. You have always been a self centered person. The fame you are enjoying is all because of me Y/N you used me.”

“That is so true honey actually I should give you credits because you inspire me to rant my feelings through my songs.” You taunted.  

“Actually you know what Y/N? You can’t accept the fact that I’m finally happy in my life so you just want to ruin it”. The argument started getting heated and no one dared to interrupt.

“You had ruined my life a long time ago only Tom. You have no idea what I had to go through after you shut me out of your life.” 

“Oh really then let me also hear how much you had to suffer because the tabloids were saying otherwise of how you were basking in your success with different men in your life.” 

"Are you slut shaming me?!"  

"I didn't say that but yeah maybe you have turned into one." 

"Huh! Look who's questioning my character who himself brought a new girl every year on Christmas. You men are all the same kind. You can't handle rejection because it hurts your damn ego so better blame the girl, question her character." 

“I really don’t recognize you Y/N. You’re not the Y/N I grew up with”

“Oh she’s dead I killed her a long time ago” you said with a sarcastic tone.

“Oh that is why the new you has no inhibitions in kissing your ex.” You were stunned as you raised your eyebrows and thought in your mind “so you want to play it dirty huh?”

"You know I was trying to solve this in a good and peaceful way because somebody has to act sensibly between us and you were always an asshole but you want me to be the bad guy right? Fine.. I'll be the bad guy.” You gritted your teeth.

“You know what Tom I know that I'm hot and it's a little hard to get over me but at least say the correct name when you are fucking someone else. It's kinda bit awkward." 

Everyone was shocked at your boldness, El seemed totally embarrassed with the whole incident coming out in public. Tom clenched his jaws, anger rising in him he didn’t think you would go this far. 

"Enough is enough Y/N now you have crossed your limits." He held your arm forcefully .

"Oh have I? Guess what now you don't have the courage to face the truth huh?" you turned towards Zendaya and Harrison.

“Z, Haz you were telling me to forget everything and come back to this coward? I'm grateful I didn't. He would have never been there for us.” 

“I was always there for you. I never gave up on you, you were the one who left me. And what do you mean by us?” Tom ranted.

“No you weren't there when we needed you the most.”

“What do you mean by we?” Tom was frustrated

“You wanna know who is this we?!” 

“Y/N no don't do this. It's not the right time for this.” Zendaya cut you off.  

“I don't think you have the guts to hear about how you ruined my life so better let's not talk about it. Now leave my hand Tom, let me go”

“No I’m not letting you go this time. Tell me Y/N how did I ruin your life?! I also need to know. Tell me! Tell me Y/N” Tom’s hold on your arms grew tighter. 

"I miscarried our baby Tom!!" you blurted out in frustration. Tom’s grip on your arms loosened.

"And you weren't there for us." You lowered your tone as you pushed away his hands.  

.............................................................

Taglists: to be added send a message or ask I'll be happy to add you in the following chapters.

@sleepybesson​ @sophs-library​ @spideyparkerstark​ @itstaskeen​  @milli86​ @biebsmylife95​ @quaksonhehe​ @hannahholland1811​  @awhollandx​ @joyleenl​ @itsnotmeh24  @bitchinwpoei @astridcomming @greatpizzascissorstaco​ @tomhollandsotherpinkytoe​ @jjandreidsgirl​ @brighterthanthesunx​ @marvelpeters​ @panicattheeverywherekid​ @onewithnomightypowers​

[cozy-the-overlord]

Okay, so yesterday when I woke up the first thing I saw was this post from @lokistan, which as you can see from my reblog made me immediately think of “gold rush” by Taylor Swift. It made me realize that out of all the folklore/evermore songs I’ve annotated and analyzed, I had yet to do “gold rush.” So I decided to remedy that immediately (I actually started writing this yesterday, but then my computer glitched and I lost all my work and I was too mad to start over again right away). And yes, I am aware that I just spent the last two hours of my life on something that probably no one will read, but I don’t care-- I love doing stuff like this so much. Here’s my interpretation of “gold rush”!

“gold rush” is the third track off of Taylor Swift’s ninth studio album evermore. It immediately stands out from the rest of the album sonically due to its ethereal production and Taylor’s lilting, dreamlike vocals. This is fitting as Taylor described this song as taking place “inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it" (x). The daydream in question revolves around a person the narrator comes across and is so enchanted by that she begins to picture a life with them, while still being very aware that such a life can never really exist.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking

Ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

The opening to the song also serves as the opening to the daydream with an immediate departure from reality—the narrator sees this person as a magical thing, thinking of sparkling, shining imagery in regard to them. The “gleaming, twinkling” serves a double purpose: gleaming inspires thoughts of shining metal such as gold, which makes sense as this is the person around whom a gold rush is about to begin, while twinkling evokes images of stars and stardom (twinkle twinkle little star anyone?), which serves to show that this person is both incredibly popular and totally out of reach.

In the second two lines, Taylor plays with enjambment, a poetic device in which the sentence continues even after the line break, which can be utilized to give the sentence a double meaning. “Eyes like sinking” sounds like a version of the common love song trope of being so fascinated with the beauty of your lover’s eyes that you could drown in them (Taylor herself has used this trope many times before, including in reputation’s “Gorgeous”: “ocean blue eyes, looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die”). This continues to show that this person is incredibly captivating and that the narrator especially is entranced by them.

However, the song continues so that the full sentence reads “eyes like sinking ships on waters,” which completely changes the image. A sinking ship is something that’s irrevocably doomed, something that you need to escape from in order to save your life. By using enjambment in this way, Taylor gives us an image of this person while simultaneously giving insight into the narrator’s internal struggle: this person is captivating, fascinating, enchanting and the narrator is undeniably drawn to them, but she also realizes that trying be with this person would not only never work, but would probably hurt her more in the long run. In other words, she’d go down with their ship. Even so, she still finds this churning water inviting, so much so that she almost jumps in—almost, because she does know better.

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush

I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

In the chorus, we have the lilting vocals and ethereal strings of the opening replaced with a conversational tone and a firm backbeat. While the opening was the daydream, the chorus is something closer to reality as the narrator giving her reasons for not wanting to get involved with this person.

The main reason is that she doesn’t like a gold rush, which she repeats several times throughout. A gold rush occurs when gold is discovered somewhere, resulting in a horde of people rushing to the site hoping to stake a claim and get rich. However, there’s never enough gold to go around, and with the perilous journey to the gold mines and the amount that the miners have to give up to get there (in the California Gold Rush of 1849, people on the east coast of the United States were leaving behind their entire lives to either travel across the country by wagon or to sail around the tip of South America in order to get to California for a chance at some gold), people actually tend to end up losing far more than they gain.

To the narrator, this person is the recently discovered gold. They’re gleaming and rare, and now everyone is in a mad scramble to get a piece of them. She realizes that she is not the only one who is desperate to be with this person, and that chances are she’d be one of the miners who loses everything should she try to go after them. She wouldn’t be in control—she’d only be “anticipating my face in a red flush,” anticipating embarrassment, getting flustered over a person she could never have.

Walk past, quick brush

I don’t like slow motion double vision in a rose blush

I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don’t like a gold rush

The second part of the chorus imagines the overwhelming nature of any relationship she would have with this person. She emphasizes how just a quick brush with this person is enough to mess with her abilities to comprehend reality: being with this person would cause “slow motion double vision” and make her think that “falling feels like flying” until she hits the ground and the bones crush (a visceral image). She ends the chorus with an adamant “I don’t like a gold rush.” However, her daydream is far from over.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

I see me padding cross your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

The lilting vocals are back as the narrator once again allows herself to ignore the elephant in the room and just focus on how entrancing this individual is. She goes as far to imagine a life with this person, where there’s a sense of intimacy and familiarity (also, apparently there’s some debate about whether the “Eagles t-shirt” references the band The Eagles or the Philadelphia football team? It doesn’t really matter, as the point of the line is to show that she’s imagining a place with this person where she feels at home and safe with them, but for the record I assumed it was the football team because Taylor’s from Pennsylvania).

At dinner parties

I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town

We wandered round had never seen

A love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

Cause it could never be

She continues to imagine a life with this person, focusing (as Taylor does best) on the simple moments. “Contrarian” describes a person who goes against popular opinion often just for the sake of going against popular opinion, and the narrator imagines a level of closeness with this person where she could call them out on it. She also conjures up grander memories—visiting a coastal town where their love is the purest thing within it. However, she seems to wake up from this daydream before returning to the reality-steeped chorus when she allows it to “fade into the gray of my day-old tea”—a image that certainly contrasts with the gleaming, twinkling gold of the person she’s dreaming about. I especially love that she specifies that the tea is not just gray, but day-old—it shows how her life is mundane and emotionless. The tea’s gone cold and she hasn’t drank it yet, because she’s wistfully dreaming about something else.

Because the chorus is exactly the same as the first, we’re going to skip to the next verse.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can’t dare to dream about you anymore

Again, she’s allowing herself to fall into this daydream, but there’s a heightened sort of awareness this time. Instead of imagining an intimate, peaceful relationship, the narrator admits that it’s all in her head—she’s turning his life into folklore. Folklore, besides being the name of evermore’s sister album, also refers to “the traditional beliefs, legends, and customs, current among the common people” (“folklore, n. 1.” OED online), stories that are often passed down orally through generations and change slightly with each retelling. She’s realizing that her dreams about this person are nothing more than stories that she’s changing in order to live vicariously through them. Here, she admits that it’s useless to continue doing so: “I can’t dare to dream about you anymore.”

At dinner parties

I won’t call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town

We never found, will never see

A love as pure as it

And it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

Cause it will never be

Here we have the same daydream as before, only modified to fit reality. She’s not going to call this person out on anything, because they don’t have that level of familiarity. They’ll never find this magical coastal town, and both they and it will never see this pure love because it doesn’t exist. This time, when the daydream fades into the gray of her day-old tea, it’s not with the wistful “it could never be,” but with a firm “it will never be.”

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking

Ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

We end where we begin, with the reminder that she could jump into this beautiful disaster, that she almost does, but she stops herself because she realizes it will never work out the way she wants to—she’ll only end up hurting herself. She spares herself from the gold rush.

[artificialqueens]

we might be hollow (but we're brave) [jan x jackie] - pinkgrapefruit

A/N - hey! incase you hadn’t noticed i’m in love with this ship and I had these lyrics and timestamps in my google docs for months with branjie but it just wasn’t fully fitting. thanks to Alex for betaing and i hope you enjoy it! let me know what you think <3

*

we might be hollow (but we’re brave)

We’re never done with killing time

Can I kill it with you?

‘Til the veins run red and blue

1 7 0 7 - 0 3 - 1 5 - 2 0 0 9

The car hums, low and hoarse as Jackie waits in the school lot. She’d offhandedly promised to pick up her english partner and all of a sudden she’s regretting it, twenty minutes late and low on fuel. She switches it off, flicking the key, and then back on again, hoping not to burn out the fragile engine.

She runs out of the school sweaty and flustered, gym bag slung haphazardly over her shoulder and for a second Jackie is fixated on the way Jan’s baby hairs have plastered themselves across her forehead. The smaller girl slings her bag through the open back window, watching with a smirk as Jackie cringes - sending a warm smile in gratitude.

They play the music loud and keep the air con on low, just cool enough to dry Jan’s hair without the native New Jerseyan complaining about how it’s warmer in the arctic. Jackie’s from Canada, she doesn’t really care.

Jan gives vague directions to her home as and when she sees fit, often directing Jackie to take turns she didn’t even know existed when they’re already almost past them. It drives the brunette mad as she abuses the car’s delicate steering, all to navigate the New Jersey suburbs.

What she does notice is they end up barely two streets over from her own house. A standard three bed, two bath, decent garden house that looks just as identical as every other one in the neighbourhood.

It’s painted blue. Jackie thinks it fits.

They spend the early evening reading excerpts of Romeo and Juliet to each other on Jan’s porch. The blonde reads on the porch chair as it swings aimlessly in the warm early spring breeze. She’s still in her cheer uniform and Jackie doesn’t have a chance to ask how she manages both cheer and soccer. Jackie barely manages hockey.

They eat homemade ice cream sundaes and watch the sunset over the eerie glow of the street lamps until Jan complains she can’t see the pages anymore and Jackie has long since stopped making notes on prose and characters.

They don’t talk about school tomorrow because they won’t see each other. Jan asks if she will pick her up. Jackie says yes.

We come around here all the time

Got a lot to not do, let me kill it with you

0 7 3 2 - 0 4 - 0 2 - 2 0 0 9

Jackie gets a text at half past seven telling her quite emphatically that Jan is running late. There is no question posed that Jackie can discern on the Nokia n95 screen - the glare from the early morning screen compromising her vision anyway - but she grabs her rucksack and the keys to the car and swings round the corner anyway.

She rationalises it by telling herself that it’s on the way to school anyway. It is.

She pulls up and Jan is sat on the porch steps in a pastel pink denim miniskirt and a glittery letterman jacket. She skips to the car and slides onto the front seat with a telltale squeak of bare legs on leather, throwing her bag onto the backseat in a way that still makes Jackie cringe even after two weeks. She smells of lemongrass and vanilla.

The blonde giggles and Jackie catches her mouth curving up in the reverse mirror, so she lets Jan pick the music and just focuses on the gear stick and anything else in her control.

She watches as the blonde sways to Fifteen by Taylor Swift, belting out the lyrics like she can feel them in her soul. They’re sophomores but they were freshmen last year and to be honest, from what she knows of Jan, she wouldn’t be surprised if that was her life.

They pull into the school parking lot to the sounds of Fearless and even Jackie cracks a smile at the way Jan is beaming. They have five minutes before they need to be in school and Jackie averts her eyes as Jan twists awkwardly to grab her bag from where it ended up on the floor, skirt riding up so the brunette can see the plum lace of her panties. She gulps and pulls out her well worn copy of Little Women instead. Not watching as Jan quickly reviews her AP Biology textbook.

“Thanks Jackie! You’re the best,” Jan calls as she slams the rickety car door on the third attempt.

“Anytime Jan.” And Jackie finds she means it.

You pick me up and take me home again

Head out the window again

We’re hollow like the bottles that we drain

0 1 2 5 - 0 7 - 1 7 - 2 0 0 9

Jackie’s phone vibrates under her pillow at one in the morning on a friday. They’ve been on summer break for a month and Jackie hasn’t really done much but she’ll admit she’s missed Jan. Until she woke her up that is.

She answers it with a defeated sign, tugging on her oversized Van Halen t-shirt until it feels decent even though no one is going to look into her tiny bedroom. The light filters through the window in a way that makes it feel like she’s in a weird horror film and she remembers why this is called the witching hour.

“Come over Jack, I’m bored,” comes the whine from down the phone and Jackie has to stifle a laugh even though she knows how much trouble she could get in for this. She sighs. She can’t really argue -  doesn’t want to. She’s always been called boring. She doesn’t want to be anymore.

“I’m coming Jan, gimme five.”

She tugs on an oversized jacket and pulls a pair of gym shorts under her shirt, grabbing the running trainers from the bottom of her closet and spritzing a couple of squirts of sandalwood and shea from her almost empty perfume bottle. When she’s pretty sure she looks okay, she pushes up her window and thanks the gods she’s over the porch. It’s well structured and surprisingly easy to climb both up and down (her brother proved it to her last week) and she slides the window shut behind her as she shimmies down stained wood into the crisp summer night.

It’s not cold and the summer moon means it’s not dark either so she manages the walk quite calmly, feeling a freedom she sometimes forgets she has.

Jan’s sat on her porch steps in a pair of grey joggers and a black sports bra, draped in a tartan blanket and with what is unmistakably a bottle of wine gripped between her thighs.

They don’t actually talk for a while, just pass the bottle between themselves taking swigs of it like it’s water until Jan is giggling at a sparrow - the moon making her blonde hair glow in a way Jackie deems completely unfair. She’s ethereal, godlike in this light and Jan wants to tuck some of the escaped strands back behind her ear so she can watch the shadow in the curve of her upper lip.

She wants them to talk about boys, or talk about girls - to delve into who they are because surely that’s how you should spend wine time at two a.m but the wine is all gone and Jan’s cheek is soft on Jackie’s padded shoulder and somehow their fingers intertwine.  

She starts humming something under her breath, something old - a song her dad used to sing her to help her sleep and Jan tugs at her hand to make her sing it louder until Jackie is serenading the sleepy neighbourhood with Mama Cass.

She shakes Jan awake just after four as the sun rises down the wide street. Their knees are stiff but Jan stands up, tugging Jackie by the hands into a hug. She’s not sure what it’s for but it’s welcomed and when Jackie clambers back through her window she can smell vanilla.

You drape your wrists over the steering wheel

Pulses can drive from here

We might be hollow, but we’re brave

0 5 0 2 - 0 1 - 0 1 -2 0 1 0

She’s clad in a hoodie and leggings when she pulls up to the big house. The party she was at finished hours ago but she’s told Jan to text her if she needed her and apparently she needs her so she’d put the heating on full blast and grabbed a blanket out of the trunk to wrap the smaller girl in when she came out.

She watches as she walks carefully out of the house, feet bare and stiletto heels in her hands. Jan slides into the front seat quietly. She carefully drops the heels into the foot-well and puts an awful lot of effort into fastening her seat-belt just right until she looks up at Jackie and something snaps.

Her eyes are red and raw and her lipstick is smudged across her chin and she looks so tired Jackie wants to bundle her up, hold her close and never let her go. But she doesn’t.

She places one hand in her lap and drives calmly to an empty house down the road, pulling into the drive and turning the engine off.

Jan is gripping her hand like a lifeline, clammy fingers twisted around soft flesh. In the light of the streetlamp, there are scratched on Jan’s bare thighs and Jackie gulps on reflex - choking back something that could have been a retch if what she’s thinking is true.

She takes a second to compose herself, brushing through Jan’s hair with her free hand. “You okay baby?” She asks quiet and still - trying to keep the situation as tranquil as she can.

Jan takes a huge snotty inhale, broken by sobs, and shakes her head. She tries to speak but she isn’t breathing enough to form words and all that’s coming out is a choked whimper.

“Hey, Jan honey, you’re safe,” she murmurs, “look at me babe.” She repeats it until the blonde will look her in the eyes, her cerulean orbs pooling. “Can I touch you?” Jackie asks, her tone soothing, and Jan nods slowly.

Jackie places a cool hand on her shoulder and feels the sticky sweat against her dry skin. The smell of cheap vodka, beer and mens cologne is filling the car and it makes her feel sick. She’s not a partier or a massive drinker but by the smell alone she doesn’t understand the appeal. She moves quickly, whipping her head around as she remembers the water bottle she keeps in the door. She places it in Jan’s lap and gently coaxes her to take a sip.

After a little while longer Jan rolls her shoulders back and squeezes Jackie’s hand appreciatively. She nods to herself while trying to find her words and Jackie rubs slow circles on her back.

“It, it was twelve and everyone was cheering,“ she starts, slowly, methodically. "And he- he wanted a kiss, which was fine because everyone was kissing and I’d joked last week that I’d kiss him so it was okay,” She pauses, justifying things that don’t need justifying, setting off alarm bells in Jackie’s head to the point where she’s mentally screaming and the story hasn’t even begun.

“But then,” she continues after a sip of water, “at like three, he pulled me aside while Jaida and Gigi were dancing and asked me for a kiss and I said yes because it seemed like the right thing to do.” She’s got silent tears running down her face again and Jackie wants to tell her she doesn’t have to keep going but she’s frozen in place. “But then it, it took a while and he took my hand and he put it down his trousers and he started kissing down my neck.” The words aren’t given tone anymore. They’re cold hard statements of fact that are rattling through Jackie’s ribs, making her fight every urge she has to vomit because Jan’s become her best friend.

“And I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t like him like that and I just wanted a fun kiss. But he made me touch him and I didn’t want that at all.” Jan starts to shake so Jackie pulls the blanket back over her, Keeping one steadying hand on her knee - steadying for the both of them. “So I pulled away and he called me a whore and then I trapped myself in a bedroom and then I texted you and it was awful Jackie. It was terrible and the worst part was I just wanted you.” She sobs openly but the tears run clear now - the mascara washed off her face and she seems lighter and that’s all Jackie could ask for.

“You are so brave Jan,” Jackie says with as much confidence as she can muster. “You are so brave and that man is a coward and a dick if he thinks he can do that to a woman and you are the strongest person I know, don’t you forget that.” She leans her forehead on the side of the blonde’s head and sighs.

“I’m so sorry baby."

“Me too,” Jan murmurs. “Me too.”

I love these roads where the houses don’t change (and I like you)

2 2 5 6 - 0 5 - 2 2 - 2 0 1 0

“Oh God, Oh God, Oh God,” mutters Jackie, knees bouncing, clammy palms on the leather seats.

They’re racing down the empty street, lamps flickering as they pass. If it was any lighter, neighbourhood watch would have caught them out by now because this is almost certainly not within legal speed limits for the suburbs. Jan passes house after house as they try frantically to make it for Jackie’s eleven pm curfew, the wind low and whistling as it cuts the car. They know the stakes.

Jackie’s face has turned a pale shade of white in fear of the reaction she will face, scraping in just under the time agreed. How her mother will react to Jan driving the family car back home, kissing her gently on the cheek and walking two streets to her own home.

They pull up at ten fifty-nine and Jan almost bursts into tears.

“See you tomorrow?” She asks softly, wistfully.

“Yeah,” Jackie exhales, tomorrow.

Where we can talk like there’s something to say (and I like you)

2 3 5 8 - 1 2 - 3 1 - 2 0 1 0

Jan makes Jackie pull over when she notices the time. They’re both too drunk to be driving and too sober to be alone and they’ve got the windows down as the sea breeze tunnels through the car. It smells of sunsets and saltwater and ice cream sundaes and Jackie’s hair and Jan is hooked.

The old car clock ticks quietly above the hum of the engine and the barely-there sound of the waves and Jackie finds pleasure in watching Jan’s eyes fixate on the hand. It swings around, red against the clock face.

Jan catches her staring and her eyes burn blue into Jackie’s deep brown. It’s a cold night but they’ve both pulled the blankets from the back seat and suddenly the blonde is aware of how small the vehicle is because there is not enough room between their faces and-

Their lips touch. Spark. Flicker. Ignite.

And then she’s warm and intoxicated and just a little bit in love but she thinks the dopey smile suits her - heads lolled back on the headrests, hands intertwined.

I’m glad that we stopped kissing the tar on the highway (and I like you)

1 6 2 4 - 0 2 - 1 4 - 2 0 1 1

Jackie drives them to the beach at sunset. They sit in the boot of the car on a picnic blanket in a parking spot that overlooks the crashing waves and it’s an illusion of stillness Jackie struggles to find anywhere else.

They hold hands because no one can see them - drink a bottle of champagne stolen from Jan’s Mom’s wine fridge. The blonde is bundled up in Jackie’s chunky knit cardigan and she looks warm and cosy and just a little bit like home.

“Hold me,” Jan asks, with eyes like saucers and a tone rolling in sugar. Jackie blinks slowly - capturing the image of her girlfriend in this moment before reaching to pull her into her arms. They don’t have much room but Jan somehow manages to straddle her - a hand on each cheek as Jackie grips her hips. The brunette bites her own lip softly and suddenly their mouths are pressed together and she’s not sure if it’s the sea air, the girl or a little bit of both but it tastes like magic and she doesn’t ever want to let it go.

“I love you,” she exhales into her hair - just above her ear.

“I love you more,” Jan whispers onto her collarbone.

“Sure Jan,” Jackie giggles, pulling Jan closer, burying her face into her hair. “Happy Valentine’s day baby.”

We move in the tree streets

0 8 3 5 - 0 8 - 2 8 - 2 0 1 1

“We’re only gonna be four hours away,” Jan mumbles, fingers finding Jackie’s with ease. “Why does that feel like the whole universe?”

They’re sat on Jan’s front steps - she has to leave in an hour if she’s going to make it to NYU for move-in but she’s not quite sure how to put one foot in front of another. Her life is packed up in boxes behind her but her world is holding her hand.

“Four hours baby. That’s all,” Jackie coaxes, “we can do it.” She says it with so much confidence but her bottom lip is trembling frantically. She got a place at Penn State and she’s happy. It’s what she wants -  to be away from her family - to grow. Unfortunately that means being away from Jan too.

“Will we make it?” Jan asks - and it’s so earnest it breaks Jackie’s heart.  

“Yes.” Jackie says. And this time her lip is still.

I’d like it if you stayed.

[littlemisspp]

Lover (TH BLURB)

Summary: You are a famous singer doing your performance at an award show. The song you sing is a love song written about your boyfriend, Tom, who is in the crowd cheering you on.

A/N: The song Lover is by Taylor Swift. I know it’s crazy popular but I figured it worked really well with the plot. I’m also a giant swiftie soooo

_________

Ever since you could remember, you were singing. In fact, you’ve been told by family that you were belting out songs before you were even talking. As true as that may be, singing was your passion in life. So much, you built a career out of it.

After working tirelessly, skipping from label to label, you finally got your chance. Within a few months of your first album, you were one of the biggest names in music. It was concerts, award shows, talk shows, red carpets, magazines, and everything you dreamed of. 

For you, it was paradise. But then you met him.

Tom had been an up and coming actor the same time your first song went number 1. Although you had never met him, you always thought he was handsome, and had heard wonderful things about him through your other celebrity friends. 

Then one magical night under the lights of Hollywood, you met the incredible man you’re with today. He’s been your everything for two years now, and you couldn’t be happier. 

But on this particular day, you weren't so happy. You were nervous. So, so nervous. For today you would be doing your debut performance at the famous Brit awards, Britain’s most popular music award show. It was held in the O2 arena in London, filled with hundreds of stars and fans, and watched by millions around the world. 

It was nerve-racking, to say the least.

The red carpet went swimmingly, Tom wearing his lovely navy blue suit and black framed glasses, the ones you loved on him. You were in a navy blue gown and gold necklace to match, your hair pinned to the side. Cameras flashed and your names were called as Tom held your hand and led you on the carpet, the giant Brit banner behind you. You posed together, his arm securely around your waist as you smiled, even turning and pecking his cheek cutely. Which made the cameras go wild.

After the carpet it was interviews. Microphones shoved in your faces and cameras rolling as you stood along the halls, all the chaos causing your nerves to rise even more. Anything and everything you did was photographed, tweeted about, posted about. Everything. You signed autographs and took photos with fans, smiling as they screamed your name.

The energy in the main arena was incredible, people chatting and catching up before the awards began. You and Tom were led to your table, a bucket of assorted drinks in the middle as your name tags sat neatly on the white cloth. Your table was full, Tom and you side by side, flanked by your manager, parents, and Harrison. 

Within no time the lights clicked on and the camera’s were on, the show finally beginning. Luckily your slot was towards the middle, so you had some time to enjoy the show before you were ushered back stage to get ready. You bit your lip as awards were given out, stomach twisting as Tom reached over and squeezed your hand.

You smiled back, happy he sensed your discomfort. He knew you were on edge, he’d watched you pace back in forth in your room all morning. He’d told you that you would do great, prompting you to breathe. You stopped mid break down, letting him pull you in for a hug. His embrace calmed your beating heart, a kiss landing on the top of your head as you smile.

But of course, that was then, and this is now. And your time to leave was now. At commercial you were led back stage, your parents giving you a quick nod as Tom presses a quick kiss to your lips, wishing you well.

A stage hand tells you your cues, but you just stare in the mirror, trying to focus your breathing as your stylist pins the first layer of your hair back. Your dress was a pale pink, perfect for a love ballad. Without any time wasted, your ear plugs are given to you and you are on your way to the stage.

It was dark, the piano hidden behind a make shift wall blocking you from the audience view. You sat at the shiny black piano, glancing down to make sure your feet knew the paddles. The microphone is placed in the stand, adjusted so it’s in front of your mouth as your stylist does last minute hair spraying.

Stage hands scurry away, meaning your moment had come. You inhale deeply, hearing some famous model announce you from the other side. Applause roars around the arena as the wall is lifted, the white spot light going on you.

You close your eyes, fingers pressing down the keys as the chords of your song begin.

“We could leave the Christmas lights up 'til January This is our place, we make the rules And there's a dazzling haze, a mysterious way about you, dear Have I known you twenty seconds or twenty years?”

The camera swirls around you, the room seemingly silent as you play your song. You take a quick moment to glance up, eyes catching your table filled with loved ones. Tom’s sitting there grinning like a mad man, beyond proud of the woman he’s in love with.

You give him a smile, fingers moving across the keys.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever”

As you play, memories flash in your mind, almost acting as a sort of fuel as you play your song. It was titled ‘Lover’ a song you’d written in your house one snowy night, just you, your piano, and Tom.

“And ah, take me out, and take me home You're my, my, my, my lover”

You close your eyes, embracing the moment and adrenaline. You brain plays a make shift movie, moments of you and Tom popping into your head. 

“We could let our friends crash in the living room This is our place, we make the call”

This made you smile as you sang, memories of you and Tom moving into your apartment together. Painting the walls together and eating pizza on the floor before your furniture arrived. And of course, your third room mate, Tom’s best friend. Harrison always had a habit of sleeping over, but he was always a welcomed guest in your home.

“And I'm highly suspicious that everyone who sees you wants you”

Everyone in the world loved Tom. He was every girl’s dream man. Hell, he was your dream man. Even though your status and popularity was great, it was never enough to cease your ever worrying heart and insecurities. It took him standing in the kitchen one night, both hands on your cheeks and big brown eyes boring into yours that you finally stomped out those demons. It didn’t matter how many gorgeous LA girls Tom came into contact with in his work, he only had eyes for one, and that was you.

“I've loved you three summers now, honey, but I want 'em all”

You look up from the piano again, grinning as you carry the notes. It was true, you’d loved him the moment you met. He wasn’t just another pretty face to you, he was something special, and you learned that instantly.

It was a charity event in Los Angeles. Your label always did events and fundraisers to help those in need, and at this particular event you were raising money for children in need. The party was in full swing when you were at the bar, music playing as the high profile guests mingle. You sat back sipping your cocktail when he came up, ordering himself a beer. You turned, noticing who he was and took the opportunity to say hello. And the rest was history.

“Can I go where you go? Can we always be this close forever and ever? And ah, take me out, and take me home (forever and ever) You're my, my, my, my lover”

The charity event was only the start. Meeting him started your friendship, which blossomed into you both always visiting each other when you were in the same city. You both kept almost constant contact with each other. The friendship was wholesome and true, Tom being your rock when tours got lonely and haters got meaner. 

One night in New York you both were having drinks on the roof, over looking the beautiful skyline. It was starting to get cold out, your cheeks red as the crisp air caused you to huddle close in front of the heaters. It was there, amongst the city lights he confessed his feelings, something you’d been hoping he’d do for a long time. It was the start of something truly beautiful.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand? With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover And you'll save all your dirtiest jokes for me And at every table, I'll save you a seat, lover”

Memories of you guys goofing around your apartment came to mind, every romantic embrace and every kiss good night. The nights you’d chase each other around the living room, or cuddle close in front of the fireplace. You didn’t know where this relationship was going, but you knew it was going to last.

“Darling, you're my, my, my, my lover”

The finishing chord brought you back to reality, lifting your fingers from the keys as the room erupted in applause. You grinned, bowing your head in gratitude as the audience stands. Your eyes catch Tom’s, his fingers moving to blow you a kiss. 

The lights dim as the show goes into commercial break, crew members helping you off the stage as you’re ushered around. You pass through a corridor and you’re met with Tom, his arms wrapping around you.

“You were amazing” He smiled.

You leaned in to give him a quick kiss, reaching down to wrap your fingers with his.

“Thank you, lover”

A/N: I know that was crazy fluff but I’m kinda into it. I’m also kinda into this scenario so if you guys want me to do more with the famous reader X Tom thing for sure send me some ideas you wanna see!

[snarkwrites]

Song Fic: remember you young; matt saracen

Notes:

Again... I loved the Friday Night Lights tv series. Idk whether I like Tim, Landry or Matt the most though, oops rip. This got sent to the ask of my main and so, when I created this blog, i wanted to be sure it got moved here.

Summary:

The one in which Matt and Julie are over and Matt’s at a class reunion alone. Enter former classmate Cat, who he seems to slightly connect with. Awkward and cute fluff.

Warnings:

uhh.. angst and mentions of alcohol?

Pairing: 

Matt Saracen x OFC, Cat

Hey buddies that I grew up with

All straight laced and married up now

You ain’t foolin’ me, wasn’t long ago

We tore the roof off that one red light town

It just didn’t feel right. His eyes darted around the crowded gym and a few times, when his eyes met with someone he remembered from back then, he’d nod and wave and quickly divert his gaze. He was dreading it, the inevitable.

At some point tonight, someone was going to ask him what happened between him and Julie Taylor. Just thinking about it had his stomach churning. He turned, almost as if he were about to walk out of the gymnasium before anyone got the chance to do so, but he wound up colliding with Tim Riggins and his wife.

“Saracen! What’s good, man?”

… don’t ask about Julie, don’t ask about Julie… the thought repeated in Matt’s brain over and over. Tim seemed to realize something was up and he just kind of gave Matt the nod and sighed.

He thought for sure Tim wouldn’t ask, but after a beer or two five minutes later, while Tati was out on the dance floor with Tyra and Landry, Tim asked it, catching his gaze.

“It true Julie left you, man?”

Matt tried to shrug it off but Tim wasn’t having it.

“Sometimes shit happens. Sometimes people grow apart.”

… yeah, coming from a guy who found his other half… the thought echoed around bitterly in Matt’s brain. A gentle jolt from behind had him turning.

Tati was squeezing herself between him and Tim, pulling Tim into a laugh filled kiss. As the kiss broke, Tati cleared her throat and nodded at the blonde who’d bumped into Matt, directing her gaze at him. “You never met my friend Cat… Did you?”

“He probably didn’t, darlin, you met her in college.” Tim was pulling Tati closer and giving Matt a mischievous smirk as he added, “But Cat did go to Dillon with us. And you two kinda have a history…”

The blonde seemed to come out of her own deep thoughts and raised the wine glass in her hand to her lips, taking a long sip. Matt followed the path of the glass and chose to settle for gazing into her eyes rather than at her lips or the way the red from the wine seemed to tint them burgundy. It hit him then that he did remember her, Landry tried to set them up on a double date when he was dating Tyra.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.” Matt muttered, a tight half smile forming. He wanted to smile but it just.. It still didn’t feel right. He was still getting used to his situation as a whole.

…. it’s been a year, man. If she were going to come back, she would’ve… she’s moved on, why can’t you?…

Cat laughed. “Yeah, it has. I’ve been all over. This is the first time I’ve been back to Dillon since graduation.” she took another sip of her wine, taking the chance to sort of stare at Matt while he was distracted and lost in his own thoughts. She’d always thought he was handsome. The years had been kind to him. Very kind.

She almost asked him where Julie was, because the rumor mill put them as having been living together in Chicago, but something about the look in his eyes when his eyes met hers stopped her just shy of saying anything.

And it wasn’t her business anyway.

Someone called her name and she looked in that direction and quickly back up at Matt, giggling.

“I have to go collect this bitch before she starts table dancin.” Cat took a deep breath. Being around Matt, being reunited with all her old friends from high school really, it was just what she needed. She felt less alone. She bit her lip and flashed one last smile. “Okay, alright.. Lemme just go do a body shot with Tiff for old times sake, but Matt?”

Matt bit his lip as soon as he realized that she was stepping closer, her hand resting against his chest gingerly, almost as if she weren’t sure it was okay. He leaned in a little to hear her better over the music and the laughing and shouting of their peers. “Yeah?”

“I’m gonna find you in a little bit and we’re gonna dance our asses off, hon.” Cat wanted to pat herself on the back as soon as it left her mouth because if she’d been just a tenth of this smooth and self assured in high school then just maybe…

… maybe I would’ve gotten the guts to make a move back then before he got with Julie Taylor and they went on to have the train wreck they called a relationship… the thought finished itself in her mind as she skipped away, shoving through a crowd of her old friends to the front of the ‘bar set up’ at the front of the gym where her old friend Tiffany was about to do a few body shots.

Tim chuckled from beside him and gave him a nudge, nodding in Cat’s direction. “Always thought maybe if you gave ‘er a chance…” he shrugged mildly. Matt sighed, shaking his head. He felt conflicted.

“Do you really wanna just sit around and wait? Your whole life is gonna pass you by that way, man.” Tim pointed it out as he held out a beer to Matt. Matt took the beer and popped the top against the side of the table they were sitting at, taking a few sips as he thought about what Tim just said.

“No.”

“Then go over there, Saracen. Get your ass back in the game.” Tim coaxed, giving Matt a smirk as he stood and started to walk towards the area of the gym Cat vanished to earlier. It wasn’t hard to spot her, she was the one out on the gym floor barefoot with a bottle of wine in her hand, dancing with two or three other girls that Matt only vaguely remembered from his senior year. They were all laughing and talking over each other.

Her best friend with the red hair spotted him slipping up on Cat and she leaned in, whispering something into Cat’s ear. Cat turned and lazily wrapped her arms around Matt’s neck and drawled lazily, “Room’s s-spinnin, Matty.”

Matt snickered and gingerly put his hands on her waist to keep her on her feet as he leaned down and whispered against her ear, “You wanna take a walk or somethin, Cat?”

“I’d actually l-love that.”

And no matter how much time goes by

And no matter how much we grow up

For worse or for better, from now ‘til forever

I’ll always remember you young

The sun was just starting to come up. They’d been walking around town, they hadn’t stopped talking for hours. Now they were standing on Matt’s old porch. The air was full of crackling electric tension and Matt was trying to get himself to make some kind of move.

Cat rose to tiptoe and gingerly planted a kiss at the corner of his mouth, giving a quiet giggle. “Are you back in town for a while, Matty?”

“For a few weeks, yeah. Julie’s.. She’s comin back to our loft in Chicago to get her stuff. Said it’d be too hard for her to do this if she saw me there.”

Cat bit her lip and nodded, hugging against him a little more, pausing to look up at him. “For what it’s worth, I never really saw you two workin. And if I had a rewind button, maybe I would’ve tried to get to know you better when Landry was tryin to set us up… I wish I had.”

She was lowering back down and Matt wrapped his arms around her, pulling her off the worn wooden floorboards slightly, crashing his lips against hers. “It’s not too late, darlin.”

“No, it isn’t.” Cat mused, sighing into the kiss. “But maybe we need to take it slow. Even though God knows I don’t wanna.”

“Me either.”

[suckitsurveys]

Did you see your best friend today? No.

Are your ears pierced more than once, if at all? They are pierced 4 times. 

If you wear skirts, are you more likely to wear leggings, or go bare? I don’t, but if I did I would probably wear leggings.

Are you addicted to texting? No.

Are you an outgoing person, or are you more reserved? I’m both.

How many times do you knock on the door? Three. 

Does anyone completely understand you? I don’t even understand me. 

Ever stayed up all night on the phone? Yep.

If you could move somewhere else, would you? I would move to a different place but the same city.

In the past week have you cried? Yup.

Is there anybody you wish you could be with right now? I’m good right now. 

Do you say sorry first? It depends.

Has someone promised you something and broke it? Of course.

Does anyone like you? Mark does. 

Did you kiss or hug anyone recently? Yes.

Does your phone ring in the middle of the night? It doesn’t usually.

Is there anybody you’re really disappointed in right now? I’m disappointed that my brother in law exists. 

Is there someone you will never forget? Of course. 

Can you live a day without TV? Sure. 

Do you swallow gum when you’re done with it? No, are there people who do that?

Any plans for this weekend? The weekend is over, but I do have tomorrow off. 

Have you seen anyone lately that you don’t get along with? Yeah.

Who was the last person you rode in a car with that’s not family? Mark, but I consider him my family since we are getting married. 

Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? Nope. I wouldn’t even be able to be friends with someone who didn’t make me laugh. 

Is there anything stressing you out currently? I NEED TO GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS HOUSE. 

Wha t kind of mood are you in today? I’m okay.

How late did you stay up last night and why? I think til midnight? I got home around 11 and was super tired from being awake since 4 am. 

Have you ever slept in the same bed with the last person you kissed? Yup.

Are you mad at anyone? Always. 

Is your heart broken right now? Nope.

Did the last guy/girl you kissed have any piercings? Nope.

Do you actually love your parents? Yes. 

Have you ever had a school picture turn out absolutely dreadful? Nah.

What is the name of the last band you discovered? I don’t know, I haven’t really “discovered” anyone lately. 

Have you ever lost any friends over something small and stupid? As a child. 

Are you more prone to being the social butterfly, or the wallflower? Wallflower. 

Do you prefer group projects, or would you prefer to work alone? I don’t care, I’m never going to be in a position where this is relevant. 

Would you rather go to a Katy Perry or Taylor Swift concert? I don’t like either of them, but if I were given free tickets and there were no opening bands I wouldn’t mind seeing Taylor Swift because her songs are hella catchy. 

Have you ever thrown up from working out? Nope.

What pattern do the sheets on your bed have? They are red. 

Are your days full and fast-paced? Nah.

Are you good with painting nails with your left hand? Definitely not. 

Do you call any of your friends by their last name? Nope.

How long does it take you to get out of bed in the morning? Ugh I have like 7 alarms set. 

Have you ever gotten lost in a department store? I have.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? Not that long at all. I bought it in July or August.

Are you a slut? Obviously.

What happened last time you got drunk? I haven’t been “drunk” in a while. I drank last night though.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? I never do.

What do you want right this second? Warmth.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? Nah.

What were you doing at 10:00 this morning? I was actually sleeping for once. 

What cell phone company do you use? Sprint.

Do you wear a bath robe? No.

Who was the last text message in your phone from? Ellen.

Do you know anyone autistic? Yeah.

How about someone bipolar? Maybe.

Why do you think your enemies don’t like you? I literally don’t care. 

What do you want your job to be when you’re older? I am older. 

What are you listening to? Bob’s Burgers.

Does the last person you texted smoke pot? She may have?

Have you ever made your parents cry? Who hasn’t?

What did you wear to bed last night? Underwear and t-shirt.

Who’s in the room with you? Mark.

Have you ever liked someone older than you? Always.

Do you like men with beards and goatees? Sure. I don’t really care. 

Where do you live? Chicago.

Do you always lock your door? Yeah.

How many grams of carbs, approximately, have you had today? 50,000?

Do you smoke cigarettes? No.

Is your birthday in a winter month? Nope.

Do you have siblings over the age of 21? Yes. 

What is the last letter of your middle name? M.

Have you ever skipped school just because you were tired? Yeah.

Do you wear your seatbelt in the car? Of course. 

When was the last time you were told you were cute? Earlier.

How do you feel about your hair right now? It’s okay.

Have you ever been to Hooters? I have.

Do you like Chinese food? It’s not my first choice. 

Do you snore in your sleep? I do.

Have you ever trusted a guy when you shouldn’t have? I’ve put my trust in guys who ended up being assholes. Do you walk out of the house without makeup? Yes.

Do you have a brother? What’s his name? No.

Have you ever thought that your life was so bad you wanted to give up? Sure.

Do you believe in celebrating anniversaries? I do. Mark and I usually do something fun.

What time is it? 10pm.

What made you sad today? Nothing really. More angry.

Is your phone close to you? It is.

What is bothering you right now? This survey is bothering me because it’s boring af. 

What woke you up this morning? My cat.

When did you last use a straw? Yesterday.

What are your full initials? HMN.

How did you feel when you woke up? Gross.

Have you ever driven without a license? Yeah.

What color shirt are you wearing? Purple.

Do you have a ceiling fan located in your bedroom? Nope.

What are you most looking forward to tomorrow? Just having the day off. 

Have you cuddled with someone today? Yes.

Have you spoken to a relative on the phone today? Nope.

Do you use the toilet paper with the colorful designs on it? Is that a thing?

What was the first thing you ate today? My leftovers from last night: crab legs, lobster bisque, potatoes, bacon wrapped scallops. 

Do you have anything more important you should be doing right now? Nope.

Have you ever eaten tofu and if so, did you enjoy it? I did. 

Have you worn make up today? No.

Have you set an alarm today? My birth control alarm.

Do you keep up-to-date with current news and events? Sure.

When was the last time you visited relatives? I don’t know.

Is chapstick a necessity for you? Nah.