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ethan-torchio-angelo · 3 years

Text

Oh, love

Summary: It takes a year of trial and error, of love and heartbreak, for the two to finally realize there's no one else they'd rather be with. Or in which she becomes they're photographer for a summer tour and falls in love with the dark haired drummer.

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: swearing, angst, sexual content

A/N: I just want to say a huge thank you to @ethanesimp for proofreading and hyping this fic up, thank you so much amore! This is the first piece I've written for any of the members of maneskin, and also the longest thing I've ever written! Feedback is greatly appreciated!

January

It’s a call in the middle of the day that begins it all. She’s been in a shoot all morning, running around snapping photos of a wanna-be teen idol. She’s been here many times, being hired to do promo shots for someone who never makes it farther than this. But this call, she knows it’s different. She’s heard the name, seen some videos, she knows this won’t be like the rest. She’s instructed to clear her schedule for the week and to be in Rome by the end of the day.

The cold air hits her as she leaves the building, suitcase and camera bag in hand. This is the moment she’s been waiting for since joining the company, the chance to become a permanent fixture instead of hopping from gig to gig. She’s told that they requested her specifically, that one of the band members saw her collection from a festival last summer and was dead set on booking her for their summer tour. It’s all new to her, the feeling of being the first choice and not second best. She barely hears anything that’s said on the plane by their manager, too busy trying not to freak out.

It’s only a few hours plane ride, but it feels like a lifetime. Thoughts run wild in her head as the seconds tick by, she can’t remember the last time she’d been this excited, or nervous, for something. She’s greeted by more people from their team as she steps off the plane, and is quickly ushered to the villa they’ve been staying in. She barely has time to process the beautiful new city she’s in before she’s hidden by walls of an even more beautiful place.

They give her time to relax and unpack, but clear instructions to not leave the property without security. Things have been crazy, she’s told, since their winning last year fans have become more clever with their tactics. She laughs at some of the stories, but heeds the warning all the same. She’s seen quite a few things that have shaken her to her core, so she knows to be careful and wary.

Music floats through the halls and into her room, the band practicing on the other side of the villa. The music fills her veins with a feeling she can’t quite place, but it’s a welcome humming that gets her blood pumping. She grabs her camera and follows the melodies, laughing at the jokes thrown around in english whenever someone messes up. She angles herself behind a corner just right where she can take pictures while still being hidden from the band.

Her heart races at the scene in front of her. It’s a family like she’s never seen. They all seem to orbit around each other, pushing and pulling each other into their atmospheres. She watches Victoria dance around the room, bass in hand, strumming the lines to an old song. Thomas lays on the floor with a notebook reading off words, Damiano repeating them as he draws on eyeliner. And Ethan, who sits at his drum set, twirling the drumsticks in his hand as he observes the scene before him.

She captures picture after picture of their dynamic, taking the most of Ethan, who seems to have a magnetic pull to him. She only pulls herself from the moment when she’s spotted. “Sai, qualcuno chiamerebbe questo strano comportamento.”

The words are warm against her ear, and she jumps at the unexpected presence. She turns around, laughing to hide her embarrassment, trying to translate the words in her head. She freezes when she sees it’s Ethan, trying to figure out when he slipped away from the rest of the group.

“Ah, niente italiano. Er, it’s unusual, what you are doing.”

Another nervous laugh leaves her lips, “Sorry. I didn’t mean to be creepy. There’s something about the way the group is when no one is watching, it’s hard to ignore, it needed to be captured.”

He smiles at that. It’s soft and warm and she feels as if the world has stopped spinning. A song plays between their hearts as a silence falls over them. There’s a beauty about him that makes it hard to focus on anything but him.

A series of crashes followed by loud curses in Italian breaks the spell that they were under and Ethan pulls himself away from her to go and manage his friends. She uses this moment as an excuse to slip away and tour the rest of the house, ending in the kitchen where dinner is being prepared. She snaps a few photos of the chefs cooking, already envisioning the blog post they’ll go along with.

When everyone has made their way to the dining room a toast is made; to new adventures, to new friends, and to family. Sweet wine and light rain makes the time pass faster and the evening flows into night easily. The group parts only moments after midnight, long days ahead calling them to catch up on sleep now.

The month flows by with days and nights blurring together. It seems the studio is really the only place they call home, spending every waking moment in the room that houses their instruments. She stays with them through the long hours, snapping photos of the weird things they get themselves up to. Her hard drive slowly fills with collections of each band member, ones for the public eye and ones she sends to them to make them laugh.

The end of the month brings a party, something small to celebrate sold out tour dates. A night out to a local bar and far too many drinks. She dances with Victoria, who has become her best friend in the few weeks she’s been with them. Damiano and his girlfriend are not far away, but much more caught up in their own world. Thomas has disappeared somewhere, no doubt warming someone's bed for the night. But through all the commotion, she can’t stop watching Ethan.

He’s sitting at a table nursing the only drink he’s had that night, planning to take on the role of babysitter at the end of the night once everyones had too much to drink. He drums his fingers on the table, following the beat of each song that plays. He seems lost in his own world, content with being by himself. She moves away from Victoria, who easily finds another partner, and makes her way to the table.

“Sembri solo,” the words fall from her lips quietly as she takes a seat beside him.

He smiles at her, “Seems your little lessons are paying off.”

She blushes at that, not realizing he’d picked up on her daily lessons with their English tutor. “Only enough to not seem like a tourist.”

A small chuckle escapes his lips, and she wishes she could bottle the sound.

“But don’t change the subject. Tonight was about having fun, celebrating a big accomplishment. Yet you’re sitting here alone.”

He sighs at her insistence, “Sometimes we don’t need to celebrate everything so publicly.”

Something pulls at her heart. She can’t imagine having such a public life, but she understands how it must feel to never have anything to yourself. Before she knows what she’s doing, she places a hand on his arm and gives it a reassuring squeeze, a light tingle shooting between the two of them.

She pulls her hand away quickly, a small blush forming on both their cheeks. He offers her a small smile to make the moment less awkward, and she returns it.

The night ends not too much later, the rest of the crew having decided that warm beds would be much more comfortable than the crowded bar. She helps Ethan herd their friends home, laughing along with him at their drunken antics. Victoria jokingly calls them mom and dad as they help her to bed, and the blush that was plastered on her face earlier that night makes a second appearance.

It’s almost morning by the time she makes it to her own room. Ethan isn’t far behind her, realizing for the first time tonight that they share the same hallway. “Buona notte,” comes his voice from down the hall.

She turns to face him, catching herself stuck in his stare. She can’t quite place the look in his eyes, but it gives her butterflies all the same.

“Buona notte.”

February

February brings more time in the studio and less time outside the walls of the Villa. While winter in Rome is not like the ones you’d experience in colder places, it still brings a chill to her bones. She steals one of Victoria's sweaters after a night spent lounging under the stars, a small break from a busy schedule.

A fire had been lit and a bottle of sweet wine was making its way around the group. She’d set her camera aside for the evening, planning on enjoying a night without the calls of work. She doesn’t know when it happens, but suddenly she’s swaying to a drunken beat in the arms of Damiano who can’t stop giggling at her two left feet. The man had not believed her when she said she couldn’t dance, but was now biting his tongue as they moved around the courtyard.

As the night seemed to come to a lull, a game of truth or dare was proposed and all were in agreement. She finds herself sitting beside Thomas on the floor as Victoria begins the game, a stupid dare aimed towards Damiano that earns him a new haircut. The night drags on in a flurry of laughter and silly dares. By midnight half the group is wearing someone else’s clothes, and the others have barely any on.

She’s moved to be sitting by Ethan, who has an arm casually draped across her shoulder. It shouldn’t feel so electric, his skin touching hers, but it does and it’s the only thing she can focus on. Her heart feels like it’s almost beating out of her chest and the blush on her face isn’t caused by the alcohol in her system.

Damiano is the first to notice her situation, and starts poking fun at her whenever it was his turn to ask her something. It started off innocent enough, small questions aimed towards her love life, but it soon caught the attention of Thomas who was the first one to issue a dare towards the girl. This was how she’d ended up sitting beside Ethan, cuddled into his side. Ethan was oblivious to the things going on around them, until Victoria dared her to kiss him.

It seems as though time stops, the laughter fades and the silence becomes deafening. She turns towards Ethan, a mixture of panic and excitement painted on her face. He smiles at her, “We don’t have to, amore.”

“A dares a dare.” She shrugs at him.

A round of cheers raises up around them as the two lean in. It’s meant to be only a small peck, something good enough to count in the eyes of those around them. But as she goes to pull away his hand reaches up to tangle in her hair and he pulls her closer. Their lips meet again without any hesitation and it’s like the world lights up around them. Blame it on the alcohol, but if she were to die right now she’d be happy.

They pull away a second later, a small laugh leaving both of them, chests rising at an unsteady rhythm.

“Awe, they’re blushing! How cute!” Comes the voice of Damiano, further pulling a blush from the girl.

She grabs one of the pillows beside her and aims it at his head, laughing when she misses terribly.

The night fades into morning and they all climb to the roof to watch the sunrise. It’s a moment she wants tattooed in her memories forever. She’s got her arms wrapped around Victoria and the three boys huddle around them, alcohol still flows through their veins and they’re all singing different versions of the same song.

March

The beginning of spring in Rome is magical. Flowers start to bloom, mornings are coated in a light dusting of rain, and clothing starts to become less of a necessity. She takes photos of the band trapezing the streets. The Villa studio has become too familiar, moving instead to a studio in the city.

By now, a routine has been put in place. Mornings sipping coffee and eating fresh pastries while she laughs at the varying states of wake the band is in. Afternoons in the studio, recording their new album while she collects photos and videos for their ‘making of’. Evenings spent in restaurants and bars, eating some of the best food she’s ever had, and she swears she’ll never eat anything better.

She’s never fallen in love with a city like this before. Maybe it’s the city, or maybe it’s the people she’s with, but she swears she never wants to leave. It suffocates her in the best way possible, the feeling of being home. She hopes that when the tours over and her contracts up, that she’ll move here, maybe even keep these people she’s grown so close to in the past few months.

She’s thrown out of the daydream by Thomas yelling at her in a mix of italian and english for not paying attention. It’s the middle of the afternoon, they’ve taken a lunch break at a restaurant down the block, and Thomas is expressively telling a story. His hands are in the air and he’s almost knocked his wine glass over too many times to count.

Damiano sits across from her, fiddling with her camera, snapping his own photos that he presents to her proudly. She laughs at every one, but never discourages his actions. Victoria is on her left, Ethan on her right, both vying for her approval as they argue over something. She’s overwhelmed by the different directions her brain is being tugged, but the hand that snakes its way into hers calms her.

She looks down to see Ethan rubbing his thumb along the back of her hand, a soft smile grazing his lips as they make eye contact. She returns it, whispering a small thank you to the boy.

That night, she lays in bed, in the room she’s begun to finally call hers, thinking of the boy with stars in his eyes. She doesn’t know if it’s feeling like she finally belongs somewhere, or the wine that still coats her veins, but there’s something about him that she wishes she could become a part of. She wants to wrap herself in it and never leave. She’s falling for him, hard. Vaffanculo.

April

It is Victoria's birthday and everyone has decided that she must be princess for the day. Ethan and Damiano have been up since dawn making an extravagant breakfast, something that should be put in a five star restaurant. Her and Thomas had disappeared shortly after waking, returning with a stack of presents that was almost as tall as him, and the best bouquet of flowers she could find.

After decorating the patio with anything and everything they could find, it was a mad dash to Victoria's room to wake her up. She protested, claiming that sleep was more important than being awake, but at the mention of presents she was the first one out of the room.

It was a morning of happiness, and a much needed break from their hectic schedule. She recorded the entire day, from the dramatic wake up call to the celebratory sparklers that were set off that night, it was all captured.

After breakfast the princess requested a trip to the beach, and no one would dare refuse her. They found something private, a little hidden oasis an hour's drive from the villa. They spend hours there, switching between swimming and laying in the sun. She finds herself alone on the sand with Ethan at one point, watching the others like proud parents.

She tries not to think about how close his body feels to her, how she can feel the heat his body is radiating seeping into her, the smell of his body wash. He’s invading all of her senses and she’s trying so hard to focus on anything but him. “Let’s go on a walk?”

His voice is warm as the question escapes his lips. She turns to look at him and she’s thankful to be able to blame the sun for the blush on her cheeks. She nods and gets up to follow him, brushing off the sand that’s clinging to her bathing suit and wrapping a towel around her shoulders.

They disappear down the beach, walking side by side, a comfortable silence enveloping them. It’s not till they’re halfway down the beach that either of them speaks. “Are you enjoying your time?”

She doesn’t miss the hint of worry that laces his voice, and she’s quick to reassure him that she is. “Yes, very much. This is probably the best job I’ve had in years.”

He softly chuckles at her words, “Good. Good. We’re trying to make you feel like one of us, don’t want you running away.”

She’s grateful for the confession, glad that they don’t see her as just another person that works for them. “Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.”

He bumps her shoulder with his, a small smile forming on his face, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They head back to the group soon after, realizing they’ve let the day slip away and need to leave soon if they want to make their dinner reservations.

A small vineyard hidden in the valley, they’ve booked the place so it’s just them, and ordered every bottle of wine on the menu to taste. They laugh away the night, enjoying plates of delicious food and letting their minds wander. A gorgeous cake is brought out at the end, half of which ends up destroyed thanks to an impromptu food fight. More presents are opened and Victoria starts tearing up, blubbering about how much she loves the idiots she’s surrounded with.

They walk through the dark streets of Rome, singing happy birthday loudly in every language they know. It’s unusually cold, but she’s somehow been wrapped in Ethan’s jacket, his arm slung over her shoulder. She’s holding Vic’s hand, Damiano and Thomas taking turns with her camera.

The air surrounding them is electrified, she looks up into the sky and thanks the stars for the life she’s living.

May

The summer tour is fast approaching, and nerves are starting to set in. The already high energy group somehow is bouncing off the walls even more, making for an interesting collection of photos. Nerves are starting to get the better of them, and she often finds one of them wandering around the Villa at odd hours of the night. She’s good at being able to channel her nerves into something else, focusing all of the energy on a new project.

One night though, it gets the better of her. She tosses and turns in her bed for hours before she decides that sleep isn’t coming. Instead of lying in bed willing her brain to shut off, she throws on a pair of shoes and heads for the front door, thinking a walk in the warm spring air will do her some good. What she doesn’t expect to find is Ethan sitting out on the terrace, cigarette in one hand and a book in the other, lost in his own world.

She doesn’t mean to catch his attention, hoping to allow him this little bit of uninterrupted peace, but he spots her anyway. “Buona serata,” He rasps, voice laced with the quietness of the night.

“Buona serata, Ethan.” She returns the greeting.

He motions for her to sit down in the chair beside him, closing the book and placing it on the table. “What’s troubling your mind tonight?”

She’s not used to the way someone can read her so well, but there’s something about Ethan that brings her comfort in the fact that he can. “Nerves, I guess. I’ve never done a gig this big, never spent so much time with one group. I’m used to being moved around a lot, still getting used to being a permanent fixture I guess.”

The words are heavy on her tongue, never having voiced her worries out loud before. He takes a long drag of the cigarette hanging from his lips, “La vita ci dà solo ciò che sa che possiamo gestire.”

“Some would think you were a poet in a past life.”

A small laugh escapes his lips, and he shakes his head. A comfortable silence falls over them and she wishes she could bottle this feeling to keep with her forever. He turns to look at her, and it’s hard to put into words the feeling that washes over him. He’s not sure where it comes from, the urge to kiss her, but it sends him spiralling.

He reaches his hand up to brush a few strands of hair out of her face, “Le stelle brillano più luminose nei tuoi occhi, amore.”

The words and his actions cause her heart to raise and her breath to hitch. They’re close now, the closest they’ve been since that night in February, and all she can think about is that kiss that they shared.

Neither knows who leaned in first, but suddenly their lips are touching and it is everything and nothing like they remembered. While the other kiss had been hesitant and brief, this one was full of purpose. Their noses brush and their breaths tangle together, he bits her lip for a moment and a small moan escapes her. He swears it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

He grabs at her hips, lifting her from the chair and placing her so she’s straddling his lap. She tangles her fingers in his hair and tugs softly, earning a groan from the man. The sound sends shockwaves through her and she rocks her hips against his almost involuntarily. His lips move from hers to the side of her neck, pulling small whimpers from her as he nips and sucks at the skin. It’s everything she’s ever imagined and more. The feeling of his body pressed to hers, the pleasure he can so easily give to her.

She moves her hands down to fumble with the hem of his shirt and that’s when he pulls away. “While I would normally love to do that here, how about we continue this somewhere more private?”

She nods eagerly and removes herself from his lap. He all but drags her inside the villa and towards his room. She trips over her own feet and they both laugh at her clumsiness, falling into each other as he tries to catch her but trips over his own feet in turn. He leans in to kiss her again as their bodies collide, this one sweeter and softer than the previous one.

The moment passes quickly and soon she’s being dragged through the halls again, only to be met with a half asleep Damiano standing in the doorway of his room. They stop in their tracks, jumping apart, trying to act like nothing was happening. “It’s rude to have a party and not invite everyone, you know.”

She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, glad that he didn’t know what had been happening moments prior. Ethan is quick to explain that they were just having a cup of tea on the terrace and were now heading to bed, and thankfully the lie is believed. Damiano wishes them a goodnight, heading back into his room, and the two are left in silence in the hallway.

“Maybe we should go to bed,” he whispers to her.

Her heart sinks, but she nods her head in agreement and turns to walk back down the hall to her room. She’s not really sure how the night was going to end, but this was definitely not how she wanted it to; walking in silence next to someone her heart aches for, pretending that nothing had happened between them.

He walks her up to her door, still ever the gentleman, and places a gentle kiss on her cheek. “Buona notte, amore.”

The words should not sound as sad as they do, and she tries her hardest to keep the tears welling up in her eyes at bay as she watches him turn and walk away.

June

How do you go back to being just friends after making out with someone? Well, you don’t. At least, not fully. They dance around each other without knowing it, avoiding any contact that could lead to something more or allude to something else, but there are still moments where the world seems to slip away and it’s just the two of them.

The tour kicks off at a festival in Amsterdam. Blue skies and sunny days greet them as they get off the plane. They have a day to explore before their first show, and no one can decide how to spend it. In the end, Victoria drags Thomas off to do some shopping, Damiano plans a trip to a few museums with his girlfriend, and she is left with Ethan.

She’s not truly stuck with him, but she doesn’t feel like wandering a forgein city all by herself. Since the night in the Villa, they haven’t spent longer than a few minutes alone together, both refusing to acknowledge what had happened.

A trip to the beach seems like the best place to be, and within the hour she’s lounging in the sun listening to Ethan read a book. It’s peaceful, the sound of the waves and his voice lulling her into a half sleep. She’s got a drink in her hands, something sweet and fruity, and she’s sharing a cigarette with Ethan. It’s a scene she thinks one would find in a movie.

She rolls herself over so she’s laying on her back, staring up at Ethan who sits beside her. She places her hand on his leg and traces random shapes into his skin. Goosebumps rise in the wake of her fingertips, and he tries to stay focused on the book in his hands but finds it hard to do so. “You are very distracting, amore.”

She looks up at him innocently and she can’t help but admire him. His hair is tucked away in a bun, but a few pieces have fallen out and are flying in the gentle breeze. He’s only wearing a pair of swim trunks, broad chest on full display. He catches her roaming eyes as they make their way back to his face, a smirk slowly forming on his face. “Or maybe I’m the one distracting you, no?”

She smiles shyly and looks away from him, because yes, he is distracting her, and she’s finding it very hard to not kiss him right now. He chuckles at her, reaching his hand towards her face and turning it back towards him. He leans down towards her, “I’m going to kiss you now, okay?”

All she can do is nod, and a second later his lips are on hers. It’s sweet and slow, she can taste the tobacco on his lips and it’s intoxicating. She moves so she’s sitting up, leaning into him more, the world around them fading out until all that is left is them.

A few days later they find themselves in a hotel room in Munich. There’s music playing and everyone’s laughing. Her camera hasn’t left her hands all night, every moment needing to be captured as they ride the after show high.

She’s in the middle of recording Thomas’ one man act when a pair of arms wrap themselves around her waist. She knows exactly who it is by the scent that invades her nostrils and sends her brain into overdrive. She lets out a sudden, loud laugh, as his fingers trace themselves up and down her sides, collapsing into his chest as she struggles to breath.

He picks her up and spins her around, letting out an equally loud laugh at her protests. He’s happy, and it’s something that looks better on him than any designer outfit he could ever buy.

He falls onto one of the beds, pulling her down with him. She lands beside him tangled in his arms, he’s looking at her with a goofy grin on his face. The world seems to silence around them as their eyes lock. Her smile softens and she reaches her hand over to brush an eyelash off his cheek, he catches her hand before she can pull it away and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently.

He looks ethereal in this moment, hair strewn all over the place, a wild look in his eyes. She reaches for her camera and brings it up to capture him, never wanting to forget this moment.

The streets of Prague are empty, save for the two of them walking hand in hand down them. It’s early, almost too early to be considered an acceptable time to be awake, but they continue on nonetheless. A wild craving for something sweet had brought upon their adventure, and with the look she was giving him, he couldn’t say no to accompanying her.

They had been sitting on the balcony of her hotel room, watching the sun starting to peak out over the horizon and sharing a cigarette when she had turned to him with a mischievous look in her eyes. “I want something sweet.”

The comment had earned her an offer to order room service, but she shakes her head at the idea, standing up and walking back into the room. “No. Something real, maybe a coffee too.”

He follows her in, watching her pull on a shirt to cover the bralette she had been sitting in. “È presto, amore. Let’s go to bed. We can order something when the sun is awake also.”

She smiles at his words, but makes no move to stop dressing. She grabs her wallet and room key before heading to the door, stopping to turn and look at him, a question in her eyes.

“Fine, I’ll come with you.” He says after a moment, throwing on his jacket and walking over to her.

It’s 7:30 in the morning, the sun is starting to make it’s daily appearance, and they are happy. The small bakery they stumble into is just opening for the day and they’re greeted by the owner, an older lady with the sweetest smile. She speaks in broken English, an obvious language barrier between the group of them, but no one seems to mind.

She orders herself a poppy strudel and a coffee, Ethan ordering a croissant and an espresso, before sitting down at one of the small tables. He sits beside her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his side. He presses a soft kiss into the crown of her head and she sighs in content.

Moments like this are what she lives for. She might only be here because she works for them, but somewhere along the way she’s become part of their little family. She looks over to Ethan who’s lost in conversation with the owner, and she whispers to herself, “Penso di essermi innamorato di te.”

She doesn’t know that he hears her, his smile spreading wider across his face.

July

The turnover from June to July happens mid concert in Stockholm. She swears she can feel it, the sudden shift, a slight change in the air. She’s running around in front of the stage capturing pictures of the band in what she’s come to call their ‘natural habitat’. There’s an indescribable buzz in the air as they perform, the crowd becoming louder and louder with each song.

She keeps catching Ethans eye and there’s something primal in the way he looks at her. During a song switch, while Damiano rambles to the crowd, he motions her on stage. He tells her to get closer to everyone, promising that they won’t bite, and she giggles at him. She does what he says nonetheless, capturing some up close photos of the band and a few great shots of the crowd.

All too soon the show is ending and everyone’s piling into the car, a small party taking place in the backseat. Damiano has music blasting from his phone, Victoria and Thomas are dancing along to the beat, and Ethan is belting out the lyrics. She watches the group of them, laughing so hard her sides hurt, and she’s never felt more at home.

When they get to the hotel he’s quick to pull her towards his room, thankfully void of a roommate for the night. The second they get into the room, his lips are on hers. He pulls her close to his body and her hands tangle themselves in his hair. It’s nothing like any of their previous kisses, it’s heated and fast, every thought trying to be conveyed by the fever of it. She pulls back slightly to catch her breath and he leans in to whisper in her ear, “Join me in the shower?”

It’s not so much a question as a statement, but she nods her head eagerly, quick to follow him into the bathroom. He strips himself of the few clothes he’s wearing (most having been thrown off during the show), before turning to her. He reaches his arms out towards her, pulling her close to him and tugging on her shirt. She barely registers him pulling off her clothes, too focused on his body in front of her.

She’s never seen him so bare, and she’s having a hard time focussing on anything else. It’s not until her body hits the warm water that she snaps back to reality. He looks wild, eyes blown with lust, a wicked smile on his face. She firmly plants her lips on his, moaning into the kiss as he grabs at her. His hands are skilled and know every way to pull those delicious sounds from her lips.

It’s quick and dirty, and it is everything she has ever imagined it would be.

An hour later, she’s tangled up in the sheets of his bed, his entire being engulfing her as they watch the stars outside the window. She wonders if they are watching them too.

Paris is the city of lights, a statement she’s never been more sure of. The streets are lit with every light, shining brighter than the stars. She’s in a permanent state of bliss, after the night she shared with Ethan. Their relationship is hidden from the public, living in stolen moments and nights in hotel rooms, but she’s never been happier to be someone's dirty secret.

The band is electric on stage, something about the city they’re in taking their performance to a whole new level. The show goes on longer than it should have, but none of them even care when their manager comes over to reprimand them. They hang around to greet fans and take photos with anyone and everyone, and it’s not until security has to kick them out that they finally leave.

They find themselves in a bar, not sure what part of the city they’re in, but no one cares when the night feels like this. They drink expensive drinks that they can’t pronounce the name of, dance to songs they don’t know the words to, and feel more alive than they’ve ever felt. It’s like the world turned itself up to 11 just for them.

She dances with Ethan, not caring who sees because the night is theirs and no one cares. She kisses him in the middle of the dance floor and he pulls her into a vacant bathroom. It’s hot and heavy and the smell of alcohol envelopes them, but they couldn’t care less. Is this love? They don’t care. They’re young and dumb, and well, you only live once.

Back at the hotel they spend the night wrapped in bedsheets on the balcony, a bottle of champagne and a pack of cigarettes shared between the two of them. He points to the stars, a stupid grin on his face, “Le stelle brillano solo per noi.”

She snorts, throwing an abandoned pillow at him. He grabs her arm and pulls her into him, tickling her sides until she’s begging him to stop, tears staining her cheeks but a laugh like no other leaving her lips.

As the night bleeds into morning, and both are hazy with sleep, he whispers to her, “Sei il mio universo.”

They walk down the streets of London, his arm slung over her shoulders as she rambles away, both blissfully unaware of the few fans snapping photos down the street. They don’t notice the group of girls following them, cameras and phones in hand, capturing picture after picture of the couple.

By the time they reach the shop, the photos are already out into the world.

As they order, reposts and comments start flowing, and their phones start lighting up with notifications.

Before they can pay, she’s crying.

Rule number one of being in the public eye; never look at the comments, distance yourself from social media as much as possible, it will never end well.

The final stop in Rome was supposed to be a welcome home. A big celebration was to occur after their last concert, but now, it’s nothing more than finding the quickest way back home. She sits in one of the dressing rooms the entire show, waiting for it to end, scrolling through her social media.

She knows she shouldn’t be, that’ll all it’s doing is hurting her, making her feel worse. But she can’t stop. The comments aimed towards her and the drummer are terrible, and she wishes she could just delete herself from existence. They aren’t even dating, at least not officially, but she’s been deemed the girlfriend from hell. She’s unknowingly stolen something that never belonged to anyone to begin with.

Damianos girlfriend is in the room with her, telling her of her own horror stories dealing with fans, and she knows she’s just trying to help, but she really wishes she would just shut up. She loves the girl to death, she’s been a blessing this entire time, but she feels her mind is too far gone to be saved from the madness.

It’s only a few minutes later that the band wanders in, the usual after show high replaced with a sudden heaviness. Ethan comes to stand by her after putting his things away and pulls her into a tight hug. “Amore mio.”

He’s sweaty and could definitely use a shower, but the hug is comforting. She rubs his back soothingly, knowing this is just as hard on him as it is on her. Their management team has told everyone to remain quiet about it, disappearing from the internet until further notice while they figure out how to manage the situation. It’s maddening, the inability to speak out and protect her. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be fixed, but he knows nothing is ever that easy.

They make their way back to the villa in silence, the car filled with a strangeness. She’s sandwiched between Victoria and Ethan, leaning on the bassist's shoulder, watching her play a game on her phone. It’s not how anyone wanted to end the tour, but the world is a strange and cruel place. Everything good always comes burning down.

August

There’s a party at the villa one night. Things have calmed down enough that she doesn’t spiral every time she looks at her phone, but there’s something in the way Ethan acts around her that makes her uneasy. She’s standing out on the patio, trying to avoid the questioning eyes from everyone in the house. She hasn’t spoken to Ethan all day, and the alcohol coursing through her veins makes her even angrier than she knows she should be.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees him walk out the door beside her, a small scoff leaving her lips as he tries to speak to her.

“Couldn’t be bothered to talk to me all day, what’s changed that you’ve decided to grace me with your presence?”

He looks at her, stunned. “I don’t get what you mean.”

She scoffs again, placing her glass on the table across from her. “Since London you’ve done nothing but ignore me. I get that this wasn’t easy for you, but it wasn’t exactly a cake walk for me. I needed you, Ethan, and you left me.” Her voice is raw and scratchy, the feeling of wanting to cry tickling the back of her throat.

“I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how Dami does it, how he can deal with the comments and messages. My brain won’t shut off, I can’t stop thinking about how if I had been more careful, I could’ve protected you and none of this would’ve happened. I feel stupid for thinking I could have. I hate seeing you like this, I wish I could take you away from all of this.” His voice slowly lowers, till it’s nothing more than a whisper, words meant only for her.

“I was never what you wanted, was I? This was just all some stupid game to you. I was just someone you could use to get off.” Her voice is laced with pain, a small crack coming out as she speaks.

He shakes his head, laughing slightly, and turns to look away from her. He walks a few steps before turning to face her again, “No. No, you were exactly what I wanted. You were everything to me. We were the same type of crazy.”

“I don’t understand Ethan, then what was the problem? This feels like a confession and a break up all in one.” She crosses her arms and leans against the wall, watching as he pulls a cigarette out from his pocket and lights it.

The familiar sight creates something warm in her chest, memories of summer nights like this flash through her mind. Spending the evening sitting on the balcony of different hotel rooms, sharing a cigarette between the two of them while they let the events of the day soak in. She’d give anything to go back to one of those moments. He blows a breath of smoke out and starts to speak again, “I don’t know, amore. I don’t. I want to tell you I love you, to hold you and call you mine. But I can’t.”

“Can’t, or won’t.” It’s not a question, but a statement.

“No, don’t do that. Don’t turn this into something it’s not. I want to, believe me, I do.” He steps towards her and reaches out his arms, “But we both know we can’t.”

She doesn’t know where the tears come from, but they’re there, pooling in her eyes. It’s only been a few months since they’ve met, there were no promises to be anything more than a summer adventure, but this doesn’t feel right. Her heart should not be breaking at the thought of losing someone she barely even knows.

He stops when he notices her state, reaching out to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks. “Merda. Merda! This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.”

She looks up at him through clouded eyes, “Then how was this supposed to go, Ethan? Breaking my heart wasn’t supposed to hurt me this bad? I was supposed to smile and tell you that I'm not madly in love with you and these past few months meant nothing to me?”

His heart breaks slowly at her words. He never meant for the night to go this way, and he wishes he could just pull her into his arms and tell her he loved her, that everything could be okay. But he can’t, so he pulls away from her, “I’m sorry, I’m so fucking sorry.”

They’re the only words he can manage to get out without breaking down. He takes a second to watch her, memorize all the features of her face, before turning around and walking away. It’s a sight that rips her heart out, watching his form disappear back into the house. She knows this is it, the goodbye she’d been preparing for these past few weeks, but it doesn’t hurt any less.

Before she can help herself, she’s calling after him. “Being in love isn’t a weakness, you know!” But the words fall upon deaf ears.

Vic finds her standing in the same spot an hour later. She’s got a smoke lit in her hand, the third one from the pack. She hasn’t touched her lips to any of them, but the smell and the feeling of holding it brings her comfort. She was never really one to smoke, but she found it entrancing to watch Ethan do it, and right now, it’s the only thing keeping her grounded. It’s silly, how something so small can mean so much.

Her heart aches in the most unbearable way, but she can’t bring herself to do anything about it. Vic doesn’t speak, just stands beside her. She doesn’t need to ask to know that she is well aware of the events that have just unfolded, she’s just grateful for the company.

September

It’s stupidly hot in London for the time of year, but mother nature loves her unexpected heat waves. She’s home now, having left Rome shortly after the fight with Ethan, assuring their manager that she would be able to edit and upload all of the photos and videos from the comfort of her own flat.

Vic and Thomas had driven her to the airport, had walked her all the way to security and hugged her tightly before letting her go. She’d promised to keep in touch and Victoria had made her pinky swear that if she was ever in Rome again, she’d come visit. The flight was short, and she was glad the time difference was only an hour.

Her sister had picked her up and dropped her off at her flat, and she’d immediately collapsed into bed. That was three days ago, she’d barely moved since. Someone had caught her at the airport and the photos were everywhere, articles upon articles had been released, she’d had non stop messages from everyone, but all she could bring herself to do was turn her phone off.

Her photos make it to the front of magazines, her articles getting featured all over the globe, she’s made a name for herself. She gets emails from prospective clients wanting to book her in at shows, her boss sending her information for more high end gigs, but all she can think about is her drummer boy.

Her phone still sits turned off on her desk, she refuses to turn it on for anything, resorting to using only her email, but she knows everything that’s going on with the band. She’d been asked to join them again in a few months, to become a permanent part of their team. She hasn’t been able to reply.

She gets panicky thinking about seeing him again, about the things people will say if she’s caught in the same country as him. She’s stopped receiving death threats, but there’s still comments that creep in, fans thanking whatever gods made them seperate.

Victoria tries to reach out every few days, worried about the state of person she’s become, but she can’t even manage to type out an I’m okay. The world seems to be too fast and too slow, too bright and too dark, too much and not enough. Her heart aches and it’s a pain so deep she thinks she’ll never be okay again. Love is a cruel, cruel creature.

October

She finally brings herself to go back to work at the beginning of the month. She books herself in for a small band, someone no one really knows but she hopes they will one day. She’s in Amsterdam now, trying hard not to think of the memories the place brings. The band is good, the music heavy and the beat strong. They find a way to tell a story that leaves everyone with a soul searching question by the end of the night. Do you know who you are?

She’s only with them for a few nights, a short gig, but something she needed to get the ball rolling, to remember why she was doing this in the first place. After submitting the photos and writing an article that sends another wave of offers her way, she takes a few days to explore the city. It was wonderful before, when the air was warm and it felt like there was magic enveloping the city. But now, with the change of seasons, it’s even more beautiful than she remembers.

She walks the empty streets one night, huddled in the safety of her hoodie, camera in hand, and captures moments. A couple standing under a street light, a cafe closing for the night, kids running. It’s not until she hears a laugh she’s all too familiar with that her heart stops and her blood turns cold. She turns, ever so carefully, hidden behind the side of a building, and sees him.

He’s beautiful, even more than she remembers, and he looks happy. He’s walking with two girls, the resemblance making her sure it’s his sisters, but in this light she can’t be sure. She’s never met them, but he talked about them often, and she felt a pang in her chest for the homesickness he must have felt.

She tries to run, tries her hardest to get away, but she’s in an alley that leads nowhere and he’ll for sure be able to see her no matter what. The voices of the three get closer and she starts to panic, but there’s nowhere to go and she knows she’ll have to pull on her big girl pants and face him. But her heart won’t stop beating so loudly and she’s afraid she’ll break if he looks at her.

She pretends to be busy with her camera, focusing all of her attention on settings she knows are perfect, but a voice carries it’s way to her ears. “Hey stranger.”

It’s soft and it makes her knees weak and she hates herself for it. She looks up at him and his expecting eyes and her heart breaks all over again. She can’t help it, but suddenly there are tears running down her face and she can’t breathe. “Hey, hey. It’s okay.”

He places a hand on her shoulder but she pushes it away, “No it’s not.” She says between breaths.

“I shouldn’t be here, I should not be here. I have to go.”

She turns to leave, but one of his sisters stops her, “Let us walk you home, please. My brother may be a dumbass, but we have good genes. Let us make sure you get back safe.”

She doesn’t know why the words calm her, but she nods her head and lets the girls lead her in the direction of her hotel. The twins, Eleanora and Lucrezia, talk to her in fits of italian and english, trying to keep her brain occupied. But her whole body is on high alert, too aware of the man trailing behind them and how much of a fool she must look like. She feels like a mess, like someone drowning in a foot of water, but she can’t help it.

They walk her into the lobby of her hotel, the girls wish her a goodnight before shoving Ethan towards her. She doesn’t want to talk to him, and he must see it in her eyes because he tries to leave. But his sisters won’t let him, they stand tall and he looks like a child being scolded by his parents.

“Can we sit?” He asks, pointing to a couch.

She doesn’t want to, she wants to run up to her room and cry, but she nods. They sit and it is silent. Her stomach is in her throat, her eyes hurt from trying not to cry, but she sits and she waits. She studies his face, the crease in between his eyebrows that only forms when he’s confused or thinking, she wants to reach over and smooth it out. He turns towards her and catches her staring, a small smile forming on his lips.

He takes her in, allowing himself to really look at her for the first time in months, and something in his heart breaks. How did he ever let her go? Why was he so stupid to ruin something so beautiful?

“I’m sorry.” He blurts out before he can stop himself. “I’m so sorry, amore. I know I can’t say it enough, I know it’s not as easy as that, but I’m sorry and I love you. So much it hurts.”

The words hit her like a truck, they knock the air out of her lungs and the tears she was trying so hard to keep at bay start falling down her cheeks. She stands up so fast she gets light headed, “I can’t do this. I thought I could, but I can’t.”

She turns and starts walking towards the elevators. He calls after her, but she’s determined to leave, to get away. He runs after her, catching her right before the doors of the elevator close, and he wishes she didn’t look so broken. The doors slip close and she is gone and he feels like he could break something.

Her room is cold and she wishes she was home in her flat. She throws herself into the shower, the water burning her skin, and she sobs. She sobs so hard her body shakes, she screams and hopes no one can hear her.

He’s still standing by the elevator, crying now, too. His body aches in a way he’s never felt before and he hates that he isn’t holding her right now. He knows he messed up, he beats himself up for it everyday, but he doesn’t know how to fix it. He can’t just say sorry and expect everything to be okay, but he has to do something.

November

The ground is covered in snow. It is peaceful and quiet. He’s not used to this, the cold and the snow, but he understands the appeal. He’s standing outside her flat, or at least what he hopes is her flat, Victoria wasn’t exactly sure which one was hers. He’s bought her favourite flowers and he’s prepared to pour his soul out to her.

He paces outside her door for what feels like hours, trying to get himself to knock, but before he can, she opens the door. “Ethan?”

Her voice is soft, his heart sings at the sound of it. He turns to face her and the sight before him takes his breath away. She’s wearing a dress that shows off everything he loved about her, a coat thrown over her arm, she looks like an angel on earth. “Do you have a moment?”

She’s running late for dinner with her sister, but she’s afraid if she says no to him, she’ll never see him again. She hasn’t forgotten that night in Amsterdam, wishes she would have been brave enough to stay and talk, but she can’t change the past. “Yes, yes. Come in.”

She lets him into her flat, taking the flowers he hands her, and brings him over to her couch. “So.”

The script he’d had prepared in his head is suddenly gone from his memories. “I’ve thought this through a thousand times, planned this out a million different ways, but I can’t figure out the right words to say. I’m sorry, amore mio. I can’t say that enough. I never should have left you, shouldn’t have let things happen the way they did. Loving you was easy, and I think that scared me.”

She takes a deep breath, not sure what to say. She feels tears bubbling in the back of her throat and she hates that this is her response to everything revolving around him. He notices the shift in her, can tell she’s about to cry, “Amore mio, please don’t cry. I’ll start and then neither of us will be able to do anything else.”

She laughs quietly at his words, “I don’t think there are any tears left inside of me. I cried them all for you.”

His heart breaks at her confession. He moves closer to her and wraps himself around her. She hates how easy it is for her to melt into his touch, but she enjoys the comfort of it. “Tell me how to fix this. Tell me to stay and I will be here for as long as you’ll have me. I’m yours amore.”

“Please, don’t leave me again.” The words are barely more than a whisper, but he hears them.

He pulls her tight to his chest and holds her. She doesn’t care about anything else but this moment and him.

She wakes up the next morning in her bed. The sun is streaming in through the windows and she can smell Ethans body wash laced in the fibres of her bed sheets. She rolls over, expecting to see him beside her, but is met with an empty bed. Her heart sinks, afraid that everything he’d said was too good to be true, that he’d left her, again. But the sounds coming from her kitchen prove her wrong.

She gets up, quickly changing out of the dress she was wearing the night before, and follows the sound of clinking dishes. She’s greeted by the sight of a shirtless Ethan, back turned to her, hunched over her stove. There’s the smell of coffee brewing and something soft playing from the radio. If she doesn’t think too hard, she can almost imagine this being a daily occurrence.

He turns around when he hears the floorboards creak, a smile on his face, “Buongiorno amore mio.”

“Buongiorno.”

He hands her a cup of coffee and plates the pancakes he’s made. She smiles at the domesticality of it all. He sits down beside her on the couch and they eat in silence, leaning against one another. Afterwards, she washes the dishes and he dries them. Neither one of them says anything until the sun is high in the sky and they are laying in bed together. “I love you.”

It is the first time she’s said it in such a permanent way, she recites it like it is a fact written in history books. He looks down at her, she’s curled up on his chest, a hazy look on her face. He reaches down to tuck her hair behind her ear and leans his head towards her, “Ti voglio bene.” He seals the statement with a soft kiss.

It’s light and barley there, she chases after his lips as he pulls away, and he chuckles in a way that sends butterflies into her stomach. She places herself on his lap, weaving her fingers into his hair as his tether to her waist. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

He stares at her, memorizing all of the features of her face. He loses himself in thoughts of days spent exactly like this, of a life he hopes isn’t just a dream. He flips them over carefully, laying her down on the bed. He hovers over her, arms on either side of her head, “I’m going to show you how much I love you.”

December

“Move in with me.”

It’s early in the morning and they’re sitting in bed sharing a pot of coffee and a pack of cigarettes. His arm is wrapped around her shoulders, she’s leaned into his side, and he whispers those words.

She hasn’t yet told him about the offer from the band's manager, to become their permanent photographer, but it seems like the perfect moment to. “Yes.”

“Really?”

She laughs at his shock, “I was offered to come and work for the band full time, I haven’t replied yet. But I want to take the job.”

A goofy grin makes its way onto his face, “Do it! Right now. Tell them yes, come and stay with us. Be my girlfriend?”

He’s rambling and he doesn’t care. She smiles at him, her heart bursting with love for the man. “Okay, yes! Absolutely!”

Christmas is celebrated in their apartment in Rome. The band is there, her sister flies out and his family comes too. It is a day filled with love and laughter. They eat a grand lunch that they spent the previous day cooking, his mom brings a homemade panettone. They exchange gifts in the evening, and it is everything she’d dreamed of.

On New Year's Eve they make a trip to the villa. They sing songs and drink expensive wine. Fireworks light up the sky brighter than the stars. They sit out on the porch and tell stories of things that seem so far away. He’s sitting beside her, hands intertwined. He tells her about all of the things he wants to do in the new year and she is mesmerized by the way he talks.

There will be a moment in time when the world stops spinning and everything goes quiet, and she thinks that if that were to happen now, it would be the perfect way to go. Surrounded by the people she now calls family and the person she loves most in the world.

Fireworks go off in the distance, someone shouts out a drunken happy new year! and as time flows from one year to the next, she realizes that this is all that will ever matter.

319 notes · View notes

stuckwith-harry · 3 years

Text

cried out to you alone

“It becomes a part of who you are”, Harry says, some sort of clarity coming to him. “Death, I mean. Grief. It doesn’t have to swallow you whole, but there is a little bit of it in every part of you.”

Impossible, is the only thing Harry can stand to think. That there is still sunlight in the world after everything.

Still, it pours out over the Burrow’s kitchen table in bright, luminous yellow, warming the veined wood. Harry and the Weasleys watch it creep over the tabletop, sitting elbow-to-elbow. Molly and Arthur are touching shoulders and brushing through hair as they pass around steaming mugs of tea, as they pour milk and stir in spoonfuls of sugar, the bags under their eyes swollen and purple like figs.

When Harry tries to open his mouth, to offer help, Molly quickly shakes her head at him; pleading. Like she wouldn’t know what else to do with herself.

So Harry stays, cramped between George and Ginny, and lets her place her palm on his back as she places his tea in front of him. Through the open window, a sweet-smelling breeze comes pouring in, the smell of warm soil and flowers and summer rapidly approaching, which seems impossible, too.

Tomorrow morning, they’re going to get out of bed and make breakfast. They’re going to feed the chicken in the yard, do the dishes and read the newspaper. Still, the sun is going to come up.

For a moment, he catches Ron’s gaze; Ron, whose face is oddly contorted and whose eyes are glassy and bright red. Harry can’t bear the sight of it: he stares at the old mug in his hands, examining the faded red dots, hand-painted. Anything that soothes.

Poppies, he realises. On the inside, near a chip at the rim, he can make out the small letters spelling out Ottery St. Catchpole, and below that, half-drowning in sweet tea: Flea Market, 1988.

A memory, then. One he wasn’t a part of, but one he can envision, anyway, the bright red summer day, the bustling and shuffling of the little village, the shrieking of children, strawberry ice cream rapidly melting and dripping on bare knees; a younger, happier Ron –

The scraping of a chair yanks him back, as Ginny abruptly gets to her feet and walks out without a word. No one tries to stop her, and the small, pathetic sound of her bedroom door closing from atop the stairs sounds down to them as though she slammed it.

After that, only silence. No pots stir in the kitchen sink, no footsteps thunder from several floors above, and no chatter, no yelling, no laughter holds the walls of the house together. No explosions sound from the twins’ room.

Death is an awfully quiet affair.

One by one, as the stripes on the tabletop grow long and orange, the Weasleys crawl into their hiding places. Harry knows he’s intruding, so he wanders outside, following the soft clucking of the chicken pecking away at the dirt behind their wooden fence, the only things alive and making a sound.

The solitude is a relief: he has never wished to flee the walls of the Burrow so desperately, only stayed long enough to change out of the black funeral robes and into an old Quidditch jumper. Then he pushed Ron’s bedroom door open far enough to slip out and disappear, and mercifully, Ron didn’t try to stop him, either.

The jumper is Ron’s, technically. It feels like being held, Gryffindor red and worn and entirely too large for Harry. Somehow that only makes him feel worse.

The Weasleys did not hesitate to take him home with them after the battle, because that was their way. They put up the old camp bed in Ron’s violently orange bedroom like they always had, and Ron silently handed him a pile of hand-me-downs so Harry would have something to wear other than the clothes that still reeked of the tent, of sweat and of blood.

Harry props his elbows up on the weathered fence and buries his face in the soft sleeves, breathing deeply. For a while, he simply listens as the hens, who do not know or care about anything, cluck away happily, as the urge to slip under the invisibility cloak, to disappear and never make a sound again, keeps on rushing over him.

“Hi.”

His heart jumps painfully into his throat at the quiet greeting and the sound of footsteps on dry grass that preceded it, and when he turns around to face it, he’s looking at Ginny. She’s changed out of her black dress robes, too, back into worn-out denim dungarees and a striped t-shirt. Scarlet and yellow. Her hair has come out of the braid from earlier and falls wildly to her collarbones again, no longer to her belly button, like it used to.

“I couldn’t stand the silence anymore”, she says, voice oddly throaty.

Harry wants to say, you don’t have to explain, but before he can, she pushes out: “And then I was in my room and it was just as fucking quiet, and I just – I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

She looks older, Harry thinks wildly. He hasn’t let himself look at her, not really, doesn’t even know why, just that he’s been avoiding her most of all. Ever since May 2nd, the quiet between them has stretched and stretched over miles and oceans and continents of wasteland. Harry knows it’s his fault, that he should say something, but he has no words, no words at all.

The first morning after the battle, when he came stumbling into the common room and found her there, they just held each other, and he had no words then, either. There was sunlight there, too, he remembers suddenly, poking through the shattered windows and lighting up every particle of dust floating around the empty room.

“Can we go somewhere else?”, she asks, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Anywhere else?”

Harry nods, mouth dry. For a moment, her eyes seem to linger on him, but then she turns away without another word, and he follows her lead without question or objection. They don’t speak again until they reach the old broomshed, and Ginny suddenly turns to look at him again, face unreadable.

“Any chance you wanna go for a fly?”

“Wh-What?”

She shrugs. “Do you?”

It’s a strange time capsule, the shed. Ginny pushes the wooden door open and sends flurries of dust into the air, catching sunlight; Harry, who is standing behind her, catches a glimpse of Arthur’s old Muggle trinkets and the old brooms lined up against the wall. Ron and Ginny’s are closest to the door; the twins’ brooms are up on a shelf opposite the square window.

For a moment, Ginny is perfectly still, and Harry knows she is looking at them, too. Then she reaches for her broom and silently pushes past him. Harry grabs Ron’s and closes the door of the shed behind him, and together they wander away from the Burrow, over the hills that surround it, where wild poppies are peeking through the unkempt grass and weeds.

Harry thinks he knows where she’s going: their makeshift Quidditch pitch hidden between gnarly old trees from summers long lost, where they used to chuck apples and tennis balls at each other, during all those afternoons spent playing Quidditch two against two.

Tall, sweet-smelling yarrow brushes along their bare shins as they walk, and pink clover, the soft heads bending back to the earth under the weight of bumblebees passing by, thick dandelion leaves spread all across the ground amidst the weeds; and everywhere poppies, peeking through the tall grass, the paper-thin petals fluttering in the breeze.

Tucked behind another hill, Harry remembers, a few minutes on foot further north, is the lake where they whiled away happier summer afternoons than this. The image comes to his mind in bright, sunny colours, Ginny’s wide, toothy grin as she sneaks up on Ron, the thundering splash and Hermione’s piercing shriek, and Ron, emerging, spluttering and yelling, his sopping hair plastered to his face.

But that was centuries ago, and their full-bellied laughter seems miles and countries away already. Here, only silence. Harry wants to ask, are you okay?, or say, it’s going to be alright, but what good would it do?

The poppies are early: they’re not supposed to bloom for another month. There’s no end to them, no matter how far they walk, a sea of red stretching out all over the soft hills. Harry can’t tear his eyes away until the first beech trees they used to climb, black pines and yews throw cool shadows over their heads.

Strange, that it looks the same. The leaves up above their heads rustle softly as they mount their brooms, and Ginny shoots into the air, a quiet cannon. For the better part of an hour, they zoom in circles through the rapidly cooling air, chucking an old Quaffle back and forth at each other. Ginny’s throws are hard and unrelenting: they’re not keeping score, but she’s playing like it’s the last game of the season, like the House Cup depends on it, so Harry lets her exhaust herself. By the time they sink back to the ground, the sky over the meadow is dotted in shades of pink and red.

Ginny hits the ground with such force her knees buckle under the impact and hit the dry grass. Harry gasps, but she is already getting up again, brushing off the dirt without comment.

They find a spot at the outer edge of the pitch and slump into the tall grass with their backs leaning against an oak tree, where they can see the sunset falling on the soft hills and the Burrow in the distance, bright red like poppies. Ginny’s hands are uselessly holding her ribs, her warm eyes staring off into nothing.

“Feel any better?”, Harry asks after a while.

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

She shifts next to him, tucking her scraped knees to her chest. They look like she’s spent all summer climbing trees and rolling down the grassy hills around the Burrow and crashing her broomstick into her brothers in a spectacular grab for the Quaffle.

“At least I feel a little less like I was buried with him”, she mutters.

I’m sorry, Harry wants to say, but that seems useless, too.

“I wanted to leave, too”, he says finally. “It was so quiet in there.”

“I hate it”, Ginny says softly. “It doesn’t feel anything like home when it’s like this.”

“I’m sorry”, he says despite himself, for what feels like the thousandth time since everything. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Ginny's brows furrow slightly, as if to say, yes, you should. “If you weren’t, I’d still be shut up in my room right now. Going mad, probably.”

After a short pause, she adds: “I wouldn’t know who to talk to.”

It strikes Harry like lightning: she was looking for him.

She looks over at him as though searching for something. Her brown eyes glow golden in the warm light, like honey, her whole face painted in reds and oranges and pinks.

“How do you do it?”, she asks finally, voice quiet, but steady, as the soft breeze continues to rush through the trees. “How do you lose everyone you’ve lost – and go on living? How do you live with the dead?”

Harry looks at her, the way she sits cross-legged and hunched over in the grass next to him, arms hugged to herself, and it sinks in, what she’s searching for, what she’s asking of him.

“It’s not the same”, he says softly.

She scoffs quietly. “How is that not the same?”

Harry looks around their hiding place. Maybe it’s the creaking of old branches around them, almost a murmur, the smell of the trees, that brings them back: his parents in the Forbidden Forest, walking towards him, Sirius’ bright grin, Dumbledore at King’s Cross Station.

The thought of them cuts through him, every beat of his heart sharp and stinging as they remain dead and he does not.

“Your speech”, he says finally, and watches her jaw clench. “I couldn’t have said anything like that about my parents – or Sirius …”

“I can’t believe I wrote him a fucking eulogy”, Ginny mutters, staring at the weeds to her feet, the patches of moss creeping across the earth under the wild, entangled grass. “It makes it feel so fucking final.”

“You did really well”, Harry says. “It was beautiful.”

She merely shrugs, and he doesn’t blame her.

“I’m glad I got to say something, I think”, she says after another stretch of silence. “But, Merlin, he was walking and talking and making jokes just a week ago, and now he’s six feet underground and I’ve written a double-sided page on how sorely he’ll be missed.”

She wipes her nose on the back of her sleeve.

“Up until today, I really thought he might jump up and laugh it off and make fun of us for falling for it.”

You made it feel like that today, he wants to say, but doesn’t.

“I’m so sorry, Ginny.”

She read it out with a completely steady voice, both fists clutching the slip of paper in her hand. She did not bother to find a silver lining this time, or to look for meaning at all; but every word seemed to bring Fred back to life a little, even earning a few teary chuckles from the other Weasleys. Every anecdote and every prank she recounted was a testament to the fact that Fred Weasley had been alive, that he had mattered, that he had left an impact on her, on all of them.

“You know my Mum had brothers”, Ginny says suddenly, looking over at Harry’s hands. “Fabian and Gideon Prewett.”

She points, and Harry realises what she’s really looking at: Fabian Prewett’s battered old watch on his arm.

“They died in the first war. Bill, Charlie and Percy say they remember them a little, but the rest of us just grew up hearing stories.”

She picks at the shallow wound on her knee, where droplets of bright red blood have pushed to the surface through the cracks in her freckled skin. “It’s why Fred and George are named after them. A little bit, anyway – you know, Fred and George … Fabian and Gideon … Mum was pregnant when they died.”

Harry swallows. “I didn’t know.”

Ginny smiles sadly. “I liked the idea that they got to live on in the twins a little. I never thought to ask Fred and George how they felt about it, actually. I can’t imagine … how Mum feels.”

Harry watches her wrap her arms around her legs, watches the strawberry blond hairs on her shins stand on end as the air cools around them. She looks tired, but her eyes are dry.

“I never made that connection”, he says softly.

“I don’t know why I’m telling you”, she says. “It seemed important.”

Even over the rustling of the trees, the chirping and creaking all around them, he can hear her clearly, her voice steady, unwavering.

“Do you miss him?”

“Yes.”

She looks around at him. “Do you not miss your parents?”

“I don’t know how”, Harry mutters. “Your speech … it was full of memories.”

She doesn’t respond, understanding silently. Then: “What about Sirius?”

Harry shrugs. “He never really got to be my godfather, did he? Not the way he was supposed to, anyway … there wasn’t time. And I don’t remember when my parents were alive – I’ve never known anything else.”

He looks at her, the way she’s quietly watching. “I’m sorry. I know that’s not what you were hoping to hear.”

Ginny dismisses it with a half-hearted gesture, lost in thoughts somewhere else.

“Do you think grieving someone is the same thing as missing them, then?”

“No … do you?”

She seems to consider it for a moment, then shakes her head.

“I just – I just want to talk to him and tell him what’s going on, and I think about how long it’s been since I’ve talked to him and how much I wish he were here and how I’m not gonna get to talk to him –”

She pauses mid-sentence, as though looking for words, and doesn’t find any.

“And then I think about the fact that he’s dead. That his life is over. And that I helped bury him today. And they’re both – awful, but it’s different, I guess.”

Harry nods, more to himself than to Ginny this time.

“And now, I just – I need to know what to do. So it doesn’t swallow me whole.”

Harry is still watching them walk towards him before his inner eye, his parents in the Forbidden Forest, his mother’s hungry face.

“I forget, sometimes”, he says. “For a moment, I think I forget they’re gone. Or I’m – I don’t know, distracted, and I’m not thinking about it – it slips away, and then it hits me again.”

Ginny’s teeth dig into her bottom lip. “I … honestly can’t fathom it right now.”

Harry looks over at her, the way she sits next to him, curled into herself, her hands still uselessly holding her ribs. Like it is physically hurting her.

“I dunno. Maybe forgetting is the wrong word. But when it happens, it always feels like it’s happening to someone else, like I am someone else.”

Ginny watches him intently as he stumbles to the end of his sentence: it feels pathetic already, having said it out loud like that.

“Like you are who you would’ve been if they hadn’t died?”, she asks, in that quietly remarkable way of hers, where she doesn’t treat him like something delicate, but she doesn’t ask for more than he can give, either.

“Yeah, I reckon. But I don’t recognise him at all.”

Ginny hums in understanding. She leans back against the bark of the tree and pulls her knees to herself again. “You would’ve been happier, anyway.”

Harry turns away at that, suddenly not trusting himself to speak.

“I know it doesn’t make sense or anything –”

“No, it does, Harry.”

“I mean, I know they couldn’t have lived. Everything would have to be different. We probably wouldn’t be here.”

Ginny sits in silence for a while.

“Do you ever wonder?”, she asks finally. “What you would’ve been like?”

“I guess … more like them. In ways I can recognise, anyway.”

He gestures helplessly at nothing, and Ginny takes that as a sign to push no further.

“I don’t recognise Ginny a week ago, either”, he hears her say, and the muffled sound of her voice tells him she’s wiping her nose on her sleeve again. “Every time something terrible happened, I guess I didn’t. It’s like remembering an old friend. One whose address you lost or something.”

“Cheery”, Ginny says in a hollow voice.

“It gets less all-consuming”, he says softly.

“Good”, she mutters. “Right now it’s pretty fucking all-consuming. It’s there when I wake up in the morning, and it’s – in my tea, and on all my clothes, and it’s in everyone I talk to and everything I say.”

Harry stares at the sky overhead, the red rapidly paling. Still, there is that whispering in the treetops, the feeling of being transported back into the Forbidden Forest. Still, his parents, reaching out for him.

“I’m sorry”, he says truthfully. “That’s all I’ve got.”

Ginny shakes her head. “It’s all I needed.”

He watches her tug at a poppy near her feet, struck by how long he’s managed to stay away from her, when her company is so comforting. The resolution comes to him all on its own, that he’s going to tell her everything. The Forbidden Forest. King’s Cross Station.

“Do you want to head back yet?”

Ginny looks at him, and she seems calmer somehow. For the first time since they got here, she doesn’t seem to be searching for anything – just looking.

“In a little while”, she says.

Harry looks back at her, really looks at her, and for a long time, neither of them speak, having arrived at some quiet understanding. Still, there’s a murmur in the trees around them, but they pay it no mind, and they don’t turn to look.

#i never posted it in obnoxious long text post form so :-)#here we are.#hinny #hp #fanfiction #cried out

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gojology · 4 years

Text

Fireworks.

the request :

pairing : not technically a pairing.. but lets just say gojo x female reader warnings : angst and cursing, no editing. wordcount : 2561 a/n : this physically hurt me to write thanks anon. aha all jokes aside i’m so sorry for not making this quick enough, i finally got enough time to finish it and it’s not even that good :( thank u SO much for ur kind words omg u got me feelin like <333333333

You stare at him, and he stares back, you’re sure he’s unblinking behind those shades of his. You knew what would happen after this confrontation, after all, you were the one who had asked him to meet you here. It’s a small, calm park. The atmosphere is still, and the shrill sounds of cicadas are the only thing penetrating the deafening silence between the two of you. “Hey.” he finally speaks up, sounding a bit too impatient for your liking. You flinch a little, and your fist tightens. It was like he never learned how to introduce himself politely. You take a deep breath in and exhale, your breath comes out in clouds of smoke. You remember when Shoko had given you those cigarettes one day and Gojo slapped it out of your slack hands, Geto and Gojo laughing at your flushed face, your heart twists. Truth be told, you didn’t even know why you were thinking the world was ending- it wasn’t. Breaking up with your fellow peer was awkward to say the least, but there were only 4 of you in the jujutsu class, yourself included. It would be undeniably dreadful to see his lanky figure dotting around the back of the class with Geto, and to have to work with him for everything else. “Hey.” you reply, your words dripping with venom. “C’mon, cut to the chase.” he waved his hand a few times in the air as a dismissal of the conversation, a half eaten lollipop dangling dangerously from those limp long fingers. It makes you hate him even harder. Couldn’t he read the room? “I don’t have time for chit-chat, you know?! The strongest needs some rest. I’m human like the rest of us! Sheesh, Jujutsu is so demanding....” “We need to break up.” is all that slips from your lips, and even you’re shocked it came out that carelessly. You wanted to stop resisting, to stop holding back and let loose the long river of hatred and misery you had for this man- no, a boy, he was a boy. A strong wind blows against your warm face, and the lollipop drops onto the grass without another word. Gojo gapes at you dumbly, and in return you look down to study that glistening in the moonlight lollipop, it’s pink and ants are already crawling on their new found prey. Your shoes are slightly dirty, and you could see- “Are you serious?” he scoffed as if it was a joke. It’s not, and you hate being taken like a joke. You weren’t, and that’s all Gojo Satoru did- take everything as a joke, everything was childs play to him. You were looking for a serious relationship, and him? He was looking for sex and quick make out sessions. “Wait- you’re not joking?” he laughs again, but it trails off, you doubt it actually affected him. “Of course I’m not joking. Why would I joke about shit like this?” you spat back. You didn’t care about his feelings right now. You deserved some sort of medal for dealing with him, any sort of compensation really. it seemed to you like the relationship didn’t quite matter for whatever reason. If he wanted to be fuckbuddies he could’ve just said so- But you still can’t wrap your head around why he kept you, he didn’t throw you away, and you falter. You wanted to be his girlfriend in some ways, in others you wanted to punch him in the face with as much cursed energy as possible. Gojo takes his glasses off, slipping them into his jacket’s pocket. It seems like he doesn’t want to talk, but you press on. “I’m fucking tired, Satoru. You treat me like bullshit. I’m not your-” you take a short breather, tears beginning to dawn at the corner of your eyes. “I’m not your fucking doll. And I never, ever WILL BE. I’ve hung onto this stupid fucking relationship long enough and the amount of dedication you poured into this isn’t enough. I deserve better.” Shit. You hated rambling like that. Scratch that, you hated confrontations as a whole, this would be sure to take a toll on you later. Turning your back on him, you allow those tears to finally fall. Tears that had been shut in long enough had finally seen the light of day. You wipe the trails away with the already wet sleeve of your hoodie, a large trembling frown adorned your features. You can’t hide your sniffling even if you tried, and before you know it you can’t even prevent the floodgates from bursting. The tears seeped into the dirt, creating some sort of rhythm as they fell from your cheeks. “Hey-” he places those hands on your shoulder that made your knees go weak, it’s gentle, and he slightly caresses you. It’s strangely intimate for the situation you found yourself in, but you’re still mortified. Why did you enjoy his touch? It feels like you’re in this position for ages, his hands on your shoulder, your back facing him. Somehow, someway, you can taste salty tears and you didn’t remember drinking any, for a split second you feel disgusted, at you, at him, at the world. A small noise leaves your throat. “It’s okay.” he finally spoke, was that a hint of sorrow? Never mind that, he was actually taking this seriously. What a turn of events. He took it better then you certainly thought, especially since this would be a definite blow to his big ego. You turn to face him, maybe as an act of superiority, hell like you knew. Peculiarly, there are tears in his eyes as well. Crocodile tears, probably. He’s most likely trying to guilt trip you- hah, like you’d fall for that. You knew better. “It’s okay.” he repeated again, brushing those tears away with his roughed up thumb, you’re mortified. Why were you allowing him to touch you? A calm silence settles between the two of you, but shortly after you hear the rustling of cloth. Gojo’s taking his jacket off? About to speak, your mouth snaps shut as he placed the impossibly large jacket around your body, small compared to his. Instinctively, you allow it, but your mind is cursing you for not lashing out on him- why did he still care about you, anyways? Gojo takes a step back, and you realize you’re now wearing his jacket. His gaze directed at yours, eyelashes fluttering. Your lips are tingling, and for some unbeknownst reason you wonder how a kiss would feel right now. A part of you still wanted the relationship. “Take care.” And with that, he twirled around with a hint of flair, hands shoved deep into his jeans pockets; wind howling against your ears as he did so. He was finally leaving you, but that wasn’t what you envisioned, you wanted to leave him- not him leave you. You watched him stroll off, heading to where ever he came from. That was how your first, and last relationship ended. ‧₊˚✩彡. The thought of this abandoned relationship nestled at the back of your head, and it had been for several years. It was like it happened yesterday. His glasses still resided on your nightstand, sitting on the same spot that you had hastily dropped it on all those years ago, gathering dust quickly as you couldn’t quite look at it. Gojo’s jacket was at the very back of your closet, and you’d advert your gaze to somewhere else- anywhere else, whenever you saw the wretched pitch-black sleeves that were twice the size of your arms. You had taken a rather looked down upon jujutsu path, one that you knew only one other person had done before you. Nanami Kento was his name, from what you remembered. Sure, you still kept in touch with Shoko, but that was about it. Today was one of those days, Shoko would invite you to some sort of establishment to eat, perhaps make small talk about what had been happening in your life, and that was that. Admittedly, you missed that childish relationship with her so badly- but you could never tell her about that. Japan at night was always a treat though, that was certainly a fact. Perhaps Shoko was thinking about other things when she took you to the Japanese night market, though you didn’t blame her- after all the fireworks festival was today, if you remembered correctly. Stalls filled with games and cheap street-snacks wafted about in the air, sweet tangy sauce, noodles, your stomach grumbled as you thought about taking a bite on the horribly unhealthy junk food. “Here, Y/N. I’ve heard this takoyaki is really good.” You and Shoko had finally found an empty bench to sit at, and for some reason the muddy green color painted onto the wooden bench made your stomach lurch- it was the same shade that you saw nearby when breaking up with Gojo. Shoko gives you this lukewarm yet kind smile, enough for you to give her a small grin to her in return, and you take the still hot container out of her gentle hands. You plop the doughy deliciousness into your salivating mouth, and immediately you’re giddy. Savoring the taste of the thick brown sauce coating your pallet. You had to admit, Shoko, Geto, and... Gojo had amazing taste in food. Your tastebuds had instantaneously dulled as soon as you parted ways with the trio. “Shoko-” you mumble, your mouth still stuffed, you cover your mouth and try to lower the sound of your chewing. “This is really good! How much was it?” Shoko’s eyebrow quirks, and she leans in closer to you, “What was that?” About to repeat yourself, you drink in the scene around you first. Cheerful children roaming the streets; too past their bedtime. Angsty teenagers and the many lanterns strung highly above everyone’s heads, how bright everything was. Then you see it. Someone large, atleast, significantly larger as opposed to the general crowd bustling in the streets. You couldn’t be mistaken, he had the same wild white hair- except it’s gelled up into spikes. He’s wearing a mauve darkish-purple uniform, it seems, a cute shopping bag swinging side by side as he took long strides. One thing you had to note was a blindfold, though. Gojo’s not wearing those classic shades that was practically his signature. You peer over at Shoko, who’s now frantically waving at Gojo, humming, his chin tipped towards the clear canvas of a sky, dotted with many white stars. He seems livelier somehow, an aura of friendliness radiating instead of arrogance, and you drop your takoyaki in suit. He notices you. And then he notices Shoko. “...’Scuse me. Comin through.” he maneuvered himself through the already annoyed crowd, muttering quick polite apologies before finally freeing himself from the tight bundle of people. A large toothy grin is displayed for the world to see on his face, you feel like you’re about to vomit everything you had eaten today. Your eyes scan the bag he’s holding, it contrasted heavily from the dark color scheme of whatever he was clad in; pastel yellow with a cute light green mascot chewing happily on mochi. In bubble letters above it were the words, “It’s a good day for yummy food.” “Shoko!” he exclaims joyously, giving her a quick hug. “Hey, haven’t seen you in a while outside of work.” Then, Gojo glances at you, atleast that’s what you assume he’s doing, the blindfold was really confusing you. He politely smiled, not as big as the one that he gave Shoko, though. “Long time no see, Y/N.” You clear your throat and nod in agreement. “You too.” Polite chatter between the two of them ensued, and you steadily got more bored as the time went on, checking your phone and stealing quick stares at the two of them. You want to comment, to be included, but you doubt anyone really cared for you right now. “...How are you?” you say bluntly, blinded by boredom, and immediately you regret it. Shoko chuckles awkwardly, looking at you with those tired eyes of hers. “Was that for me or Gojo?” Fuck it, if you were gonna go out, you might as well do it now. “Gojo.” “Shit. Putting me in the spotlight like this?” he stands back up from leaning down to talk to Shoko eye-to-eye, now turning to look at you, pausing. “You’re even more straightforward then I remember, and I thought that was impossible.” “Yeah.” you finally say after too many seconds of silence. It seemed like he was hinting at something. “I guess we just grow as people, even though I thought that was basically impossible for you.” you cheekily retort back, crossing your arms over your chest with a smug smirk now proudly playing at your lips. “AND you got sassier? Never quite grew outta the brat phase.” taking a seat between the empty space between the two of you with a huff, his right leg placed above the knee of his left, his thumb plays with the hem of his blindfold, pulling it just a bit so that you could see his snow white eyelashes, alongside with a singular eye. It’s like time stops as soon as you see them, and it’s like Shoko isn’t closely surveying the two of you, obviously perplexed with this sudden increase of the intensity of conversation. You see a split second of something flickering in those eyes of his, you’re not quite sure what it could quite be.. Vulnerability? “Can’t believe my eyes.” pulling his blindfold back down. They’re still as breathtaking as you had imagined them to be. He shrugged, leaning back into the bench casually. For a while, the three of you just watch the stall directly in front of you- it’s a goldfish stall. Gojo had gotten you one when the two of you were still dating. Shit. Why weren’t you over such a silly relationship? It wasn’t like you still had feelings for him, but there was still this emotion you couldn’t shake off. It clung onto you like a leech. “It’s been so long since we’ve relaxed with each other like this.” Shoko mused aloud, turning to look at the two of you. The words are so faint, you’re barely able to hear her subtle voice. At this point, colorful fireworks started bursting into the air- every shade of color could be seen. Vibrant greens, blues, reds, a loud crackling is all the ear can hear, aside from the loud cheering of over joyous children. Both of you are unanswering. Vaguely, you remember the first time you saw the fireworks. Lo and behold, you remember wisps of Gojo’s white hair that you twisted and played with, your legs wrapped around his head. You felt on top of the world. Now, you found yourself at the bottom of it. There’s a grateful, albeit, sad smile on your face. It wasn’t like it was all sunshine and rainbows for you, no. You felt bitter. Hatred, even, that Gojo matured without you. “Yeah. I miss this.” you say through gritted teeth. If you were to be honest, you did miss them. Geto, Shoko, Gojo, running around pelting each other with scrunched up paper. Not just Gojo. But you guess he’s a big factor as well.

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ijustwant2write · 4 years

Text

The Last Five Years-Fred Weasley x Reader

(GIF credit to @hp-wizardingtrash-1)

(I combined two requests which were very similar)

Both Requested by anonymous: ‘Hey! Can you do a Fred Weasley imagine where him and the reader dated in their last year but Fred broke up with her cause he was leaving and he didn’t want to hurt her. But the reader was pregnant so she leaves right after. So no one knows what happened to her. After the war maybe like 5 years later (Fred lives), something happens maybe the kid needs blood from both parents because he’s sick and they need that for surgery, so the reader goes to Fred begging for blood and Fred learns the truth.’

‘Hey! Can I request a Fred Weasley imagine where the reader was pregnant (back when they in school) but Fred dumps her when he’s leaving to start the shop. (But he still loves her) and the reader has twins, a boy and a girl, who are just like him and George. After the war (Fred lives) something happens where he finds out, (up to you). And both Fred and the reader still love each other. Happy cute family ending.‘

Characters: Fred Weasley x Reader, Molly Weasley x Reader (platonic), Arthur Weasley x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

(Y/S/N)=Your son’s name

(Y/D/N)=Your daughter’s name

Warnings: Teenage pregnancy, talk about abortions, abandonment, single parenting, separated families, mention of blood, sickness, child sickness, mention of hospitals/blood, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Leaning against a stone pillar, I looked out at the view of the lake and the grounds, crossing my arms across my chest to make myself feel warmer. I resisted touching my stomach, still terrified at the thought of life growing in there. I was only seventeen, I hadn't even finished my studying at Hogwarts and this was happening. This wasn't something Fred and I could joke about, or laugh at to make the situation a little better, this was serious, and I couldn't tell how my boyfriend would react.

Feeling a tap on my shoulder, my head whipped round to look, but no one was there. As my head turned to the other side, Fred towered over me, chuckling to himself. But I couldn't bring myself to even smile, instead rolling my eyes at him.

"Hey, what's wrong? I'm sorry I'm late, George and I were speaking, I've got so much to tell you!" he rambled, not taking offence to my action.

"Something...Fred, I...I don't know what to do!" I suddenly started sobbing, which panicked my boyfriend.

He instantly put his arms around me, holding me tight into his chest. At first he let me cry, probably thinking I was stressed about exams (I definitely was on top of everything) before pushing me away and bending down to look me in the eyes.

"Hey, let's sit down yeah?" he guided me to a bench close by, keeping his arms around me as we took a seat.

I couldn't stop my tears, trying to keep quiet in case anyone heard, or before any professors could intervene.

"Here, let me tell you what George and I have been discussing. It'll take your mind off this for a bit, yeah? OK, so, you know how George and I have always said about owning a joke shop, well, something has come through. And after all this stuff going on with Umbridge, we've decided to leave-"

"I'm pregnant." I blurted out.

Unsurprisingly, his eyes widened, mouth dropping open, I could feel his body tense up. Staring up at him, I silently pleaded for him to say something.

"Fred?" I mumbled.

"(Y/N), please say you're joking."

"This isn't a fucking prank Fred!" I exclaimed, shoving him away from me."I’m serious!"

"W-what...I don't know what to say."

I stood up, not able to sit still."Fred, we're having a baby. What are we going to do? We've still got exams, and then graduation, not to mention having to tell our parents and-"

"(Y/N), I'm not doing my exams."

"What do you mean you're not doing your exams? Fred, it's literally coming to the end of our studies, why would you throw that away?"

"Because I have a plan, I was just about to tell you! George and I are leaving early and we're getting a shop in Diagon Alley."

"Are you crazy?! Fred, what if it doesn't work? You won't have any exam results, you won't be able to apply for jobs-"

"Well thanks for believing in me, that's great to hear from your girlfriend!" he leapt up from the bench.

"You know I support you through everything, but I'm thinking about our futures! If we have a baby on the way, we need to be able to support it."

"We haven't planned for this! This...this wasn't what I envisioned for us, not now!"

"Oh, and you think I did?"

"Well, what are you going to do?"

"What am I going to do? No, it should be what are we going to do? How dare you?! What, are you just going to leave me as well as Hogwarts?"

When he didn't reply, I scoffed, but it wasn't in an angry way, it was more upsetting than that. My mind went into overdrive, not recognising the man in front of me. I had expected shock, of course I had, but what I wasn't expecting was this rudeness, the bluntness coming from him.

"Fred," I was quieter now,"what are you saying right now?"

"You want to keep it?"

"I...I don't really know yet."

"So we're arguing about something that might not even effect us!"

"Even if we got rid of it, it wouldn't be a matter of 'let's just forget about it'. Do you know how hard that is for a woman? And the father?"

He hastily grabbed my hands."Then leave with me! We've always talked about living together after we finish school. What difference does this make?"

"I want to do my exams Fred! Even if I didn't, my parents wouldn't allow it. And that was easier to plan for back then. It would just be us. We could have a small space anywhere. But with a baby? We need somewhere safe, somewhere that is a good place to raise them, and we also need to feed three people, buy nappies, clothes constantly because babies grow a lot-"

"I can't do it." he interrupted.

"Fred, please, I love you. I know we can figure something out-"

"No, I...we're too young, this isn't fair." his eyes were distant, as if he was staring straight through me.

"What you're saying isn't fair! I couldn't have done this by myself."

"I just...I don't know what else to say I..."

He said no more as he rushed away from me, and I was too stunned to go after him. As he picked up the pace, he passed Mcgonagall, who glanced between us before she approached me. "I think we should have a word Madam Pomfrey, shouldn't we Miss (Y/L/N)?"

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Mummy!" (Y/S/N) yelled out, just like he did every day.

I sighed as I brought out the kids breakfast, setting it in front of them."Don't worry, you're not going to starve. Here you go darling."

"Thanks." he mumbled, picking up his spoon and eating. He was always more awake in the morning compared to his sister.

"Thank you mummy." (Y/D/N) quietly said, also digging into her food.

I smiled at them both, quietly laughing at their wild hair from their sleep, before grabbing myself a bowl of cereal. Quickly returning, I sat down with them, my smile faltering as I looked at (Y/D/N) pale face.

"Do we have to go hospital today?" she asked. She hated how many times we had to go, the appointments were becoming more and more regular.

I nodded."Yes darling. But (Y/S/N) is coming today, because he's not at school for a while! You can play together whilst we wait for the doctor."

"I'll play with you (Y/D/N)." her brother kindly said.

"I don't want to go." (Y/D/N) frowned.

"We have to. Remember, they're helping you get better."

"I want to play at home."

"I promise it won't be very long. We've got our trip soon, haven't we?"

"How many more days mummy?" (Y/S/N) excitedly asked.

"Only two! We need to start packing your bags."

(Y/S/N) started to chat away about this trip he knew nothing about, listing every single item he was bringing, whereas his sister was silent as she finished her breakfast. She had been a sickly child compared to her healthy twin brother. The hospital had diagnosed her, and explained that I needed to ask family members to have blood tests, to see if they matched with her and could help in any way. My side of the family had no luck, and after much deliberation with myself (and my parents), I knew I had to see Fred again, I had to face him. But with my little girl so ill, so weak, I would face down Voldemort himself to make her well again. Though I had a feeling seeing 'He who shall not be named' would be a lot easier than seeing the father of my children.

The day of the trip came, and the kids were excited. We had packed their tiny suitcases, and I an overnight bag, before setting off. All day I had kept a smile on my face, not wanting to worry them. They thought it was a mini holiday, something we had never been on due to money. For five years it had been the three of us, with me at work, then at school and their grandparents when I had a late shift before cuddling up in bed with a good story together. It was a simple life, but they brought me so much joy, I couldn't express how happy they made me if I tried, it was infinite. And now I was taking them to meet their father I had avoided talking about, I was worried what it would do to our bond.

"That's a strange house mummy." (Y/D/N) said as we approached the Burrow, a place I had spent much time in.

"This is where your other grandparents live. It's very nice here. And they are very nice people." I said as we continued walking.

"We say, we say please and thank you, don't we mummy?" (Y/S/N) added.

I giggled."Yes, we do."

We were now stood outside of the house, right in front of the door, but I still clutched onto my children's hands. They were confused as to why I wasn't knocking, why I was standing still. It was as if I was frozen. So when (Y/S/N) boldly stepped forward and knocked, I was pulled out of my trance. Before I could say anything to him, I heard movement coming from the other side of the door, and pulled him back towards me. There was no turning back now. Molly opened the door, her jaw almost hitting the floor as she set her eyes on me, then the kids, which is when she gasped. I bravely smiled, taking a deep breath to hold back the tears.

"H-Hi Molly. I'm...I'm really S-sorry just showing up out of the b-blue-" I couldn't stop stuttering over my words,"but...but I thought it was time you met your grandchildren."

Molly had immediately ushered me inside, throwing her arms around me as soon as the door closed. Holding my face in her hands, she studied my face, seeing how much I had changed over the years.

"I can't believe you're here!" she quietly exclaimed."It's been so many years."

"I'm sorry Molly. I didn't mean to disappear." I began welling up, trying to hold it back in front of the kids.

"Dear, don't apologise for a thing. We can talk about this later." she comforted me, stepping back to look at her grandchildren."So, these are your children?"

"My twins, ironically. (Y/D/N), (Y/S/N), this is your nan, Molly."

They stayed close to me, only (Y/S/N) letting go of my hand. I gently encouraged them forwards, pushing them towards Molly. She used the table beside her to help her kneel down, slowly extending her arms out to them. I felt overwhelmed as (Y/S/N) cautiously stepped towards her, hugging Molly before leaving her embrace again. It was one of those shy hugs kids gave, when they knew it was the right/polite thing to do but weren't sure of it themselves.

Molly was the only one in the house, and we let the kids play as we sat and caught up on what happened in the last five years. For me, there was a slight awkward tension in the air, but Molly's warm smile made me forget about that. I'm sure she had tons of questions as to why I never brought the twins round, and why I only showed up when I wanted something.

"Why don't you stay the night? I can hardly get Fred to stop by now. But there's plenty of room." Molly offered.

"Oh, only if that's alright with you! That would be very helpful. Um, do you think he’ll even want to see me?”

She kindly smiled as she slowly nodded.“My son is still just as infatuated with you as he was all those years ago.”

I refrained from snapping about how he never sent a letter, checked to even see if I was alright, if I had kept the pregnancy going. But then again, I had also cut off any contact with him, so it wasn’t entirely fair for me to say that. However, I was the one carrying twins by herself, raising them as a single mother (my family helped as much as they could, though no one could replace a father figure). And although the catch up with Molly had been good, it had lifted this tension from my body, I hated how my stomach twisted at the thought of Fred showing up here. Hi reaction was completely unknown. He could have moved on, maybe Molly was just wanting us together again; what if he was seeing someone, someone without children, someone who was free to do what they wanted and more fun than I was? He could easily turn a blind eye to it all. Or perhaps he would want to be a part of the family now. But why should I let him in after all these years? He missed five years of their life, and I understood that he would have no clue where we were, though there were ways of tracking us down. My mind was conflicted, I was here to make (Y/D/N) better, that was the top priority.

When Arthur returned that evening, he wore the same expression Molly had had when I first arrived. Although he was happy to see me, he wasn’t shouting or bouncing off the walls, he was more concerned; asking me all these questions, wanting me to go in depth about (Y/D/N)’s illness and how they could help. Both of them agreed they would help, and that once I spoke with Fred, they would ask the rest of the family also.

Molly had laid out a full breakfast the next morning, though I really didn’t feel like eating. The kids got stuck right in, eating more food than I think I’ve ever seen them eat. They weren’t used to treats like this, we weren’t extremely poor, but even a fancy cereal was out of the question for us. I shared a smile with Molly and Arthur, thanking them for their hospitality. (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N) were more comfortable with them, sometimes talking to them, or showing their toys. As we sat at the table, our plate and bowls now empty, Arthur gestured for me to follow him to the other room.

“(Y/N), I just wanted to make sure you were ready for today. I’ve had this same talk with Fred.” he quietly said.

I looked down at my feet, my arms crossing over my chest.“I don’t think I’ll ever be fully ready to see him again.”

“You have been very brave coming here. I can see how difficult this is for you. But I understand wanting to look after your children, it’s a feeling you only ever experience once you have them. Molly and I spoke last night. Even if, for some bizarre reason, Fred doesn’t...he doesn’t....”

“He doesn’t want to be around us.”

Arthur sighed sadly.“We will still help you. And you always have a place here, you always have family here.”

I hugged him, feeling like a child again in his arms. I felt protected, like nothing could hurt me whilst I was here. When we returned to the others, Molly was already clearing everything away, (Y/D/N) and (Y/S/N) talking each others ears off. Molly denied my help as I offered, knowing that I was very nervous and wanted the kids ready, as well as myself before their father arrived. I was happy that they were in a good mood, talking amongst themselves rather than asking lots of questions. But I still needed to sit them down, tell them who they were meeting today.

“You two look amazing!” I beamed, sitting them down on the edge of the bed, me kneeling in front of them.

“Mummy looks...mummy looks like a princess.” (Y/D/N) giggled as she clutched onto her own princess doll.

“Thank you. Do you guys remember why I said we were coming here?”

“To meet daddy.”

“Yeah.” my voice turned shaky.“So, we need to be really good today OK? You guys were so good yesterday, and I need you to be like that again please. Me and daddy might need to talk for a while, so you two can play together, or with granddad Arthur and grandmother Molly.”

“Where is daddy?” (Y/S/N) asked.

“He’s on his way.”

“No, not, not now. Where has he been? Because all my friends have daddies, they have mummies and daddies, but I don’t.”

“He’s...he’s been....”

How was I supposed to explain this to a five year old?

“It’s a bit confusing darling. But that doesn’t matter because he’s here now.”

(Y/D/N) looked away from her doll.“Will he come home with us?”

“I don’t know. Just don’t be upset if he doesn’t. We’ve been fine, just the three of us, haven’t we?”

They nodded, and I pulled them in to hug me. Their little arms wound around me where they could, and I could feel their tiny hands grasping at me. Squeezing them tighter, I laughed when they did, exclaiming they I was holding them too hard. Pulling away, I kissed them both on the cheeks, holding their hands to take them downstairs. However, my grin fell as I heard the door open, Fred’s voice ringing out. My body stiffened, heart starting to race quickly. Instinctively, I pulled the twins closer to me, not sure if I should go to Fred or wait here.

“It’s alright dear, I’m here.” Molly calmly said beside me.

All I could do was smile. My throat turned dry, breathing shaky and I could hear my heartbeat in my ears. I heard Arthur speaking to his son, but it was muffled, until footsteps started approaching. And suddenly, there he was, the boy I feel deeply in love with was now a man, standing even taller than before. Although we both looked different, it was as if we were teenagers again.

“(Y/N)...I...I can’t believe...” he couldn’t form a sentence, his gaze now on the twins.

I knelt between my children, hugging them close to me.“This is (Y/S/N), and (Y/D/N). They’re my world. And...your children too.”

The kids curled into me, noticing the tension in the room. They didn’t know this big man, and they could sense that I was on edge. I put on a brave face for them. I was their mother, their protector, I would always ensure that they felt comfortable, safe, happy and loved.

“M-my children?” he was still looking at them.

“I think you two should talk before...well before a proper meeting, yeah?” Arthur gently suggested.

“Alright.” I agreed.“You two go upstairs and play, you can come down in a bit, OK?”

“Come on you two, let’s go see what toys I’ve got for you. You can show me yours.” Molly said happily, wanting to make the kids relaxed.

They hesitantly went, but I heard them starting to talk about what toys they had and wanted as they climbed the stairs, Molly feigning surprise and interest.

“I’ll just be in the garden, should you need me.” Arthur said before leaving.

And then there we were. Just us two again. I hadn’t seen him in five years, not since that week of our argument. Multiple emotions rushed through me; I could be angry, upset, frustrated, desperate, loving, relieved...all were pushing their way to the front of my mind, wanting to have their chance to speak.

“Five years.” Fred mumbled.

“Five years.” I repeated.

“I...I can’t speak. I can’t, I can’t think right now. I had so much I wanted to say.”

I didn’t know how to respond.

“Their names...I remember us talking about them.”

“Yeah. I always liked them.”

“Are they...well, do they know...”

“They know you’re their father. I've always avoided this kind of topic as much as I could with them. They've obviously asked in the past, but I guess since they were so used to it just being me, it was normal for them."

"How have you been?"

"Pretty good, for what it's worth. I was able to get on my feet, with the help of family, I gave birth to them with no complications, all by myself until the last minute. Mum had burst into the room, her face bright red as she rushed to my side. It was scary. And from there I managed to get us a small house, just the necessary rooms, and I try and treat them as much as I can, if the budget will allow it."

"Why didn't you contact me sooner?"

"Why didn't you contact me?" I snapped back."You had the means to do so as well. You probably had more time than I had to even think about contacting me!"

He slightly raised his hands, trying to calm me down."OK, I'm sorry. That was a stupid question."

“No, I'm sorry." I sat down at the kitchen table, head in my hands."I'm just feeling a lot of mixed things right now."

I heard him shuffle around before the chair next to mine scraped along the floor, and he sat in it."I know. So am I."

"I came here because (Y/D/N) is sick. An option we have is a transfusion of blood but we have to find the right person. They said the most likely match would come from a family member. All of mine have tried, even distant relatives. That's why I came in the first place."

His face had fallen into a sad expression, eyebrows furrowed."Wait, what does that mean?"

"She won't die, nothing like that. Even with the right treatment, she would have to go to hospital throughout her life. (Y/D/N) will be a sickly person throughout her life."

“Of course I’ll help. I know we all will.”

I smiled through my tears.“Thank you Fred. That means everything to me.”

“But...” he looked down at the table, slowly sliding his hand towards mine. He boldly placed it on top of mine,“I want to look after you too.”

“Fred-”

“No, please listen. There has not been a day where I didn’t regret what I said to you the last time we saw each other. I...I thought about you everyday, but I was too selfish, I was too much of a coward to do anything about it. My love for you, it was...it is enormous. I think as a teen, I knew I was in love, I just didn’t realise how painful it would be when I lost you. And it was all my fault.”

“We’re both to blame. Throughout my pregnancy, I tried to hate you. I convinced myself I did, though deep, deep down in my heart, the love was still there. I told myself I could do this without you, and some days it really felt like that. Others, it would have been nice to have someone else around. And not just to help with the kids. To feel...like a normal family. To have someone look after me at the end of a long day.”

“I can’t believe no one else snatched you up.” he smiled.“You’ve become more beautiful over the years, I didn’t think that was possible.”

I blushed, rolling my eyes at his compliment.“Surprisingly, no one wants a woman with two kids, especially young kids.”

“Can’t say I’m too angry about that.”

“What are we doing Fred? It can’t go back to how it used to be. Not...not straight away.”

“You think you could forgive me?”

“And me?”

“You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“I kept you from your children! I could have done this years ago. They...they could have had their father in their lives, we knew how to get to each other.” I used my free hand to cover my eyes as I began crying.

“Hey,” Fred’s other arm wrapped around my shoulders,“you’re here now with me. I will apologise everyday if it means you can look me in the eyes and feel happiness. You deserve that much. And as for (Y/S/N) and (Y/D/N), I would love to get to know them. We can see where it goes, and further down the line...well, we can take baby steps.”

I sniffled.“You really want to do that?”

He smiled and nodded.“I’m going to be here for you all from now on. They’re my kids, and you’re the mother of my children. I’m going to make up for lost time.”

He tenderly embraced me, and how I had missed this feeling with him. I reacted, holding onto him as I continued to silently cry. He rocked us back and forth, but I could tell he was crying when I felt something drip onto my neck. This didn’t mean all was forgiven, it would take a while to mend everything between us, and for the kids to get used to their father again (and vice versa). Although I knew this would be a journey, I had some faith in it, and I prayed and hoped that someone from the Weasley side could help with (Y/D/N).

We were going to work through this. From what Fred had said, he was desperately wanting to reconnect. Perhaps we could be a family, and the last five years would be nothing compared to the rest of our lives.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley x reader #george weasley #george weasley one shot #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fan fic #harry potter imagine #harry potter imagines #harry potter one shot #harry potter x reader

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thefanficmonster · 3 years

Note

I may or may not have just sent the 3 word challenge in my real account instead of anon... I'm sorry. Please don't answer there. :)

When you post, post answering here please.

Again, much love,

📚🌻

Don't worry dear! Your identity shall remain a secret 🥰 Here's yet another fic with my Resident Evil OC: Gwen Winters (she’s an adult guys, don’t worry. However this is still an Older Man/Younger Woman relationship)

The words dear 📚🌻 Anon gave me in their previous ask were: Unruly, endurable and system. Please enjoy!

What happens in the gym....

Pairing: Chris Redfield x Female OC

Warnings: Swearing, Spoiler Free 😊

Genre: Angsty Romance

“Sure, throw me in the fire like you always do, Leon!“ Chris snaps, clenching his fists tightly as he glares at his best friend while the two stand in the dimly lit gym.

“Chris, you’re a BSAA captain, for the love of God! You should know better than to complain about something as little as this!“ Leon, while significantly calmer tone and demeanor-wise, is glaring daggers of his own.

“Why me, damn it?! And why her?!“ Chris is not done with his attempts to get out of the situation Leon’s trying to land him in and his partner’s honestly done with it.

“And why not?! You see the same potential I see, why would it be so hard to train her? She’s a quick learner, she’s disciplined when she wants to be and she’s already skilled to a certain degree. You’ve made soldiers out of total wimps before, why is she such a hassle to you?!“

“Because she’s disciplined when she wants to be and I guarantee she won’t want to when she’s around me. She’s unruly, selfish, arrogant and a Chris-phobe. I’m telling you, she hates me!“

It’s about time Leon’s had enough of this conversation. To be honest, he was done with it as soon as it started but he stayed, thinking he’d be able to change Chris’ mind but seeing as how this is a hopeless case, he’s just been wasting his time. “Does she? Or are you projecting your hate for her onto her?” Slinging his duffel bag containing his training gear over his shoulder, Leon finally makes that realization that these are ten minutes of his life he’ll never get back and storms out of the gym without another word.

Chris doesn’t attempt to stop him, in fact, he’s relieved he left. He sighs, silently hating himself for all the shit he said and how he meant none of it. It was all hard bullshit and he doesn’t know whether to be thankful or disappointed that Leon didn’t realize. Either way, he’s been cleared of possible suspicion, even if training the newest BSAA rookie still remains as his task.

Gwen Winters, she’s such a fucking handful. One cannot tell if it’s because she’s angry with the world, angry with herself or just straight up picked up on the habits of the family that took her in when she was rescued from Raccoon City where she was held as an experiment hamster. A chemistry project basically. Ethan and Mia were recovering from the events back in Louisiana at the time, still probably are, that is not some shit you get over, so they thought having another person in the house would help them. And help Gwen did. See, Gwen isn’t a handful with everyone. In fact, she’s a real sweetheart and Chris knows it too, despite his bogus claims. He knows she’s got a heart and soul of gold and is built with the will of a BSAA soldier already. All she needs is a bit better fighting skills and she’s good to go.

He sees how she acts with everyone around him. She’s been quick to make friends with Jill and his sister Claire and she’s even got Leon’s liking and trust which is hella hard to get, especially after all the shit with Ada. She’s overall a super sweet and lovely girl, even with him from time to time. He’s seen her welcoming, friendly smiles whenever he stops by the Winters’ home. He’s heard her laugh at the jokes he rarely cracks.

Then why does she act like she hates him so often? And why does he claim he hates her?

Chris is snapped back to reality by the sound of rough impact. It’s a very distinct noise, one he places immediately: the sound of fists hitting a punching bag. It’s the middle of the night, almost midnight actually, and knowing how lazy the soldiers on his team are, he can only assume it’s either his sister or Jill, given that Leon just left. However, they’ve had people sneak in to train for free before, so it’d be for the best if he went to check who was releasing some pent up energy on the poor punching bag. Judging by the intensity of the punches being thrown, sounds like the person might be angry as well.

And they have every right to be. Because they are Gwen.

Chris’ face goes a bit red at the sight of the infuriated rookie giving the punching bag her all, punishing it the way she’d want to do to her superior she just heard call her all the names she hates being referred by.

“Winters I-“

“Unruly?“ Punch “Selfish?” Punch “Arrogant?” Punch

She stills herself, sighing and wiping the droplets of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand, “You say all that and expect me not to be a Chris-phobe?” She lets out a bitter laugh, rolling her shoulders before continuing her wrath over the piece of equipment she’s threatening to destroy. She hasn’t spared him a single look yet, something he’s rather grateful for because the last thing he wants to see is whatever her gaze is hiding right now. “I’ll talk to Leon.” She says, her voice leveled and breathy, far from the pissed off tone she was just using. This calmness is a lot scarier though. “I’ll tell him I don’t want you to be my trainer. To be perfectly clear, I never wanted you to train me in the first place. I’m just not the type to complain, you know. I’m not picky. Beggers can’t be choosers. I take what I can get. And you were all I was offered, but...” she trails off, delivering a particularly hard punch, “It’s not gonna work. I may not be picky, but I know when to draw the line. I know when I deserve better.”

“Kid, you really have no idea what the case really is here.“ He attempts desperately, taunted by the thought of acting on his instincts and approaching her even if that means being the recipient of one of those hard punches.

“You know, I’m strong. I’m skilled. I can hold my own in a fight quite nicely. I’m endurable. I’m not afraid to work my ass off and sweat and pant like a dog after workouts. There’s not a line I wouldn’t cross, but you still choose to make me feel lesser than any soldier you’ve ever come across, that’s really lovely of you, Captain Redfield.“

“Winters, please...“

“It’s ok, I won’t tell Ethan and Mia. I’m sure they’ll send you to hell over it. I’m not petty like that.“

He’s had enough. He’s had enough of hearing that hurt tone in her voice. He’s done hearing these words she’s so certain are true but aren’t. He’s done lying to her and to himself. Before he can even think twice about it, he grabs her by the arms gently but firmly, turning her to face him despite her hostile attempts to free herself from his hold like a wild animal caught in a trap. He’s surprised when she relaxes, probably seeing that as a quicker way out of the situation rather than struggling though if she tried to free herself any longer he would’ve probably let her go.

“Fucking hell, Gwen, listen to me.“ He looks her dead in the eyes, catching onto the spark of shock created by his use of her first name. But he also sees something else, something that looks dangerously a lot like tears. He knows she won’t cry, especially not in front of him, but knowing that he’s the cause behind the welling of those crystal droplets in her always shiny, always smiling eyes breaks him. When she doesn’t look away nor protest, he continues, “I can’t be your captain. I can’t be your trainer. I can’t be any of that. I’m a strictly professional man, and it’d be highly unprofessional of me to take you in as my soldier.”

“But why?“ She’s fully aware she sounds like a whiny kid - exactly how she thinks he envisions her sometimes - but she couldn’t care less. She wants and needs answers. She knows she won’t be able to fall asleep or keep coming back to the training center if she doesn’t get them.

It’s blatantly clear this is far from easy for Chris. His first instinct is to look away, let go of her, run away like he always does - not that she’d let him do such a thing but still. He’s finds the words impossible to spit out yet he oh so desperately feels the need to get them out of his system. And so, he gathers all the strength within him and finally forces himself to say it.

“Because a captain isn’t supposed to look at a soldier the way I look at you.“

Sure, it sounds cryptic as heck but he has no doubt she’ll catch on. Gwen is a smart and sharp girl, among many other things. She confirms this when barely three seconds after he’s said it, he notices her eyes widening

“Sir, I-“

“Don’t.“ He says simply, a small, regretful smile playing across his lips as his hand slides down her arm to take hold of hers, “I just admitted my dirtiest secret to you and you are still gonna remind me how unprofessional I am by using my title, Kid?“

She purses her lips, the shock momentarily replaced by her signature mild glare, “Well, you just admitted your biggest secret to me and yet you still choose to call me ‘Kid’, huh?”

He chuckles, letting his other hand repeat the movements of the first, “Sorry, force of habit.” His thumbs brush against her knuckles briefly as his head falls, his gaze fixating on where their bodies are connected, “You know, I didn’t tell you this to get myself any pity or anything. I just wanted you to understand and....wanted to get it off my chest. Ethan will kill me if he finds out, won’t he?” He suddenly asks, regaining the courage to look up at her once again.

She giggles, “Who says he’s gonna find out?”

Chris bites the inside of his cheek, shaking his head, “You’re right, there’s nothing really to find out abo-”

Gwen has never been a chatter nor can she tolerate when people beat around the bush so she’s quick to cut them off sometimes, no matter how rude that may seem or sound. However, just to clarify, her chosen method of cutting a person off isn’t always kissing them. Just saying - this is a special situation requiring special methods.

Taken aback by the sudden feeling of her lips on his, Chris’ eyes close automatically but not even a second later he responds to the kiss properly: wrapping his arms around Gwen’s waist as her hands travel up to cup his face. The kiss is short - too short if either of them is to be asked - but it’s worth all the words they didn’t say despite wanting to.

When they pull away, Gwen gives him a mischievous smile, “Now he could find out about that and then shit would go south. That’d suck, wouldn’t it Chris?“

He’s only ever heard her say his name twice, once in passing conversation with Claire and once earlier when she paraphrased his term ‘Chris-phobe’, both time spoken with some dose of dislike he now realizes was a cover-up all along. Turns out the two are a lot more alike than they initially thought. Regardless, hearing her say his name with fondness instead of bitterness makes his heart flutter, his body yearn to have her closer, his lips wanting to be in contact with hers again. But he’s a patient and self-controlled man, he’s nothing if not willpower sculpted in a human body, so he keeps his distance, waiting for her to pick the moves, waiting for her to make the decisions just like she’s his captain.

“Big time.“ He manages to say, voice coarse all of a sudden, barely able to leave his throat. “So it stays here, right?”

She giggles again, bringing her lips within an inch or two away from his, taunting him, threatening to break his self-control, “What happens in the gym stays in the gym, Redfield.”

Golden rules of discretion, ones he mustn’t break ever. Especially not when his captain - Captain Gwen Winters - holds so much power over him.

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

Text

starting over, with you : s.r

after everything you went through with spencer, life decided to give you another shot. and this time, neither of you took the opportunity for granted. (3.5K)

we’re finally here, the epilogue to this little series. thank you for reading and supporting it. i hope you like the ending as much as i enjoyed writing it.

knowing you / forgetting you / remembering you / with or without you / starting over, with you

“She truly is just wonderful,” Maggie happily sighs as she rests her head in her hands, staring out dreamingly to the front door whilst you clean the spout of the steamer. “what did I do to find someone so just,” Maggie trails off and you quickly notice from the corner of your eye her standing up straighter.

Following her line of vision, you clear your throat as the woman in question walks in. Her blonde hair flows behind her shoulders as she slips her jacket off, resting it over her tote bag.

“Hey, sunshine.” She beams to Maggie who suddenly has lost the ability to speak. “Hey, Y/n.” She waves over to you as Maggie chuckles under her breath nervously.

Moving to stand beside Maggie, you nudge her playfully. “Use your words Mags,” You mutter.

“Yeah, I know that,” Maggie retorts as she focuses on the woman she’s been seeing, Delilah, for the past few weeks. “what can I get for you, D?”

Raising your eyebrows, you just catch the smirk on Maggie’s lips before you busy yourself once again, not wanting to get involved.

Slipping aside from the counter you pick up two plates and the muffin you kept from this morning. “So, this is the girl then?” Sitting down opposite him, you can’t help but smile at the excitement in his gaze as he focuses on you.

“That’s Delilah,” You tell him, passing him a plate as you split the muffin in half. “you were in such a rush this morning I thought I’d keep this as a treat when you finished.”

Smiling brightly at the muffin in front of him, he shifts for a moment before taking a bite. “Nothing beats your blueberry muffins. Did you know that blueberries are filled with antioxidants and phytoflavinoids. They’re a top choice for doctors and nutritionists as they also contain high levels of potassium and vitamin c.”

Chuckling under your breath, you poke your half of the muffin with your knife. “I don’t think it counts as much once they’ve been baked though, Spence.” You state, glancing up as Spencer chews another piece of muffin, his eyes not leaving yours.

“True, but you’re a benefit of these muffins too.” Spencer mutters, tearing his eyes from you as your lips part, humour filling the space around you.

“Did you just try and use a line on me?” You remark as Spencer shakes his head profusely. “Because if so, it was shocking.”

Spencer shyly smiles up at you as a small laugh leaves his lips. “Well, something worked clearly.” He reaches out, taking your hand in his just as Maggie rushes over to you.

“Sorry to interrupt lovebirds, but we’re out of pumpkin spice syrup.” Maggie sighs heavily, focusing on you with endless apologies in written across her expression.

Taking your hand from Spencer’s, you rise to your feet. “If you’re gone before I get back, I’ll meet you at mine?” You ask as you rest your hand on Spencer’s shoulder.

“I’ll wait, Y/n.” Spencer tells you as he turns his head, kissing your hand gently before you follow behind Maggie. “Don’t you worry.”

You could already see kids rushing around in various costumes as parents ran frantically behind them. Giggles of excitement and evident sugar rushes fill the air as brown and orange leaves coat the ground.

Leaning behind the counter the all-consuming scents of cinnamon, hazelnut and pumpkin spice filled your nostrils, acquainted by the occasional breeze of fresh air whenever a customer entered or departed.

Halloween always came around too quickly as you busied yourself with seasonal treats and limited edition beverages that brought new customers in every year. Yet, this year it was different. Usually, you’d spend the holiday working through the evening and spend time with Gary or your friends. It was always a quieter holiday compared to others, but this year things weren’t going to be the same.

“Come on, you have to tell me what your costume is.” Maggie practically begs you as you shake your head once again.

“It’s a secret, Mags.” You remind her for the twelfth time this week. “Besides, Spencer picked it out.”

A loud groan escapes Maggie's lips as you glance over your shoulder as she crosses her arms. “That means it’s going to be all nerdy and not slutty.” She rolls her eyes, watching as you nod along, knowing it’s true.

“There’s some slutty element to it.” You shrug a shoulder, trying to convince yourself moreso than Maggie. “I personally love it,” You comment under your breath before returning to work in the hope of distracting your mind a bit longer.

“Are you nervous at all?” Gary emerges from the far side of the cafe, his left arm still trembling as he grips onto a tray tightly.

Looking between them both, you roll your eyes. “You two trying to push my buttons tonight?” You feign anger as Gary shakes his head whilst Maggie nods. “Of course I’m nervous, I’m shitting myself!” A laugh escapes your lips involuntarily as you lean against the counter with your back turned to the entrance. “This is my chance to make a good impression on the people who pretty much watched me for months whilst Spencer was,” You trail off, it’s still something you both struggle to openly discuss.

Maggie’s eyes dart over to the open doorway, Spencer standing proudly as he removes his purple scarf, his wild curls fluffing up outwards. “Y/n,” Maggie tries to interrupt, but you carry on regardless.

“It’s just, I really care about him, I, I think I might be in love with him.” You finish as a light sound follows as a smile graces your lips.

Biting his lower lip, Spencer steps forward whilst you remain oblivious to his presence. “I always thought I’d be the first to say it,” Spencer can’t help himself as you whip your head around like a deer caught in headlights. “shall we Miss Y/L/N?”

Stuttering silently as you focus on his hazel eyes, you feel a gentle nudge from Maggie as you mumble in agreement.

“Wow, this isn’t at all awkward.” Maggie jokes, causing Gary to give her a fatherly look as you move out from the counter, removing your apron and throw it back in Maggie’s general direction.

“Yes,” The word barely leaves your lips as you walk closer toward him, taking his hand as he guides you towards the exit.

Quickly you glance over your shoulder, receiving thumbs up from both Maggie and Gary before you step out into the Autumnal breeze, wishing you had brought another layer with you.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” Spencer asks as he struggles to hide his smile, but he can sense your worries as you focus on the browning leaves as you shuffle down the street.

“I didn’t intend on you hearing that,” You admit shyly as Spencer’s grip on your hand loosens. “I mean, sorry, that sounds dreadful.” You force a laugh, looking up as Spencer keeps his eyes fixated on the street ahead, knowing there are two hundred more steps to take until you reach your car around the corner beside the lamp post with the missing cat poster that’s faded entirely.

“It’s okay.” Spencer mutters, but it doesn’t take a profiler to know he doesn’t mean it.

Pausing, you take a hold of his arm, causing Spencer to turn around as his long legs guide him back to face you.

“It’s not okay, Spencer.” You huff as you sigh into your hands, oblivious to the loving way Spencer is looking at you. Despite having barely made it back in time for Halloween and sleeping on the jet, Spencer couldn’t have been happier to walk in at that precise moment.

Taking your hands from your face, Spencer brushes his fingers across your cheek. “It is, Y/n.” He hushes you, his hand now cupping your cheek. “Because I think, no, I know that I am in love with you too.”

“Wait, you do?” Your immediate reaction is to deny it, but as Spencer dips his head closer towards yours and his lips brush against your skin, you listen to him mutter a simple yes before kissing you affectionately.

Leaning into his embrace, you deepen the kiss, only breaking as the sound of children giggling increases from down the street.

“Ew, they’re kissing!” One child calls out and you shyly bury your face into Spencer’s chest, hiding behind his scarf as you feel the vibrations of his laughter.

His hand rises to rest on your back. “They’re gone, Y/n.” Spencer mutters to you as you step backwards, trying to suppress the heat rising through your body as you carry on walking to your car as if nothing had happened.

“Oh my god,” Penelope squeals as she opens her front door, clad in pumpkin dress with her mouth ajar as you stand besides Spencer who is unable to stop his smile from growing. “you look amazing!”

Looking up at Spencer you can’t help but laugh as butterflies flutter around in your stomach, even after all this time he still can muster this effect on you.

You have to admit, despite your initial uncertainties about the costumes Spencer suggested they have turned out better than you envisioned.

“And Y/n, you look well,” Penelope stumbles over her words as she brings you into a tight hug. “and I, I want to apologise about well,” She looks up to Spencer and back to you.

“It’s all good, Penelope.” You tell her as she reaches for your hand, her eyes softening. “I should thank you really, I mean, without you I don’t think we’d be here.” You admit as Spencer wraps his arm around your waist, and it’s enough for Penelope to lose her mind as she sighs happily.

“Come on in lovebirds, god.” She huffs as you both walk in and pause as several pairs of eyes greet you.

“I have to say, it’s hard to find profilers intimidating when they’re all dressed up for a Halloween party.” You admit, and Spencer chuckles, nodding along as he pushes his goggles further up from his forehead.

The first to step forward is a blonde woman wearing a Super Woman costume. “Hi, I’m-”

“JJ?” You ask as she nods, glancing up to Spencer as your smile brightens. “I’ve heard so much about you! Well, I’ve heard a lot about everyone, but you’re Henry’s Mom!” You happily tell JJ who warms to you instantly, having only ever seen footage of you previously down in the dumps and unsure of everything.

Instantly, you are swept away by the women of the BAU, leaving Spencer watching in awe as Luke pats his shoulder. “You really got her to agree to this?” Luke motions to Spencer’s outfit.

“It was the first movie we watched together,” Spencer states. “and she makes a cute Marty.” Spencer half-smiles as he lip-reads your conversation with Emily and JJ.

“He really got you to dress as Marty Mcfly?” Emily chuckles into her drink as you nod along, taking a sip of the concoction Penelope created before everyone arrived.

“I’m not sure if I like it or if it’s the number of chemicals I’ve inhaled making Spencer’s hair white with dry shampoo.” You joke, and the sound of laughter spreads through the group as you glance over your shoulder, watching as Spencer is sat with Rossi and Luke, flashing you a reassuring smile.

“Gives you an idea on how he’ll look in the future.” Penelope nudges you, and JJ rolls her eyes.

“A mad scientist sounds about right.” You nod in agreement. “So, what’s it like, on the field? Spencer only tells me so much, but I’d love to hear more from you guys.”

Rossi interrupts your conversation shortly after Emily explained the latest mission and how she managed to get the cut across her forehead which conveniently was covered by her fringe.

“May I?” Rossi asks as he holds out a glass of wine to you, which you gladly accept.

Walking with Rossi, you follow him into the kitchen as you lean against the counter, feeling somewhat at home here as the music plays faintly in Penelope’s living room.

“You know, when Spencer was inside I heard your name mentioned countless times.” Rossi begins.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” You force yourself to joke, and Rossi senses the change in your stance as you hide your left hand in the pocket of your bodywarmer, picking at the tissue buried inside.

Rossi shakes his head. “No need to apologise. It’s never an easy thing to talk about, but we both know Reid well enough to know he can talk for days about anything and everything, but often miss the most important thing.”

You nod along with Rossi as you take a sip of your drink as a temporary distraction.

“Do you talk about it? What happened when Spencer was inside?” Rossi delves deeper, knowing the answer before you shake your head. “Something changed in him, but what didn’t change was his determination paired with his intelligence and though he can be an ass about it, he often is right about things.” Rossi chuckles to himself. “I listened to everyone talking about this girl in a cafe for months before Spencer went away, waiting for him to make a move.”

Listening intently, these were details no one had ever shared. This was the perspective you were missing in your story.

“Penelope offered countless times to march in and talk to you, but an old friend, Morgan, refused to let that happen.” Rossi sighs, remembering it like it were yesterday. “And he told us on the flight back to Quantico that he was going to see if you were open that evening and ask you on a date.” Rossi trails off, not needing to fill you in on the rest of the story.

“And he did.” You finish. “What was it like, knowing he was in there all that time?”

Your eyes follow Rossi’s as he looks out into the living room where Spencer is lost in conversation with JJ. “Difficult, knowing he was in there for something he wouldn’t have ever done. We all worked tirelessly, trying to find a way to get him out.” Rossi explains as he places his glass down on the counter, finding a spot amongst Penelope’s various trinkets. “Do you wish you knew? If you could go back?”

“That’s the million-dollar question.” You huff as you finish the last of your wine. “I don’t think I would, no.” You reason, thinking back on the heartache you went through, the unknown reason Spencer never called you. “It hurt, and I think everyone here knows that firsthand, but I don’t think I would’ve forgiven him if I knew without the full story that was to follow.”

A smile forms on Rossi’s face as he steps forward and kisses both your cheeks. “I can see why he’s so fond of you.” He pats your arm, leaving you alone with your thoughts for a moment before you step out, resuming the evening with everyone.

Hearty laughter echoes throughout the apartment as the hours roll on. Children have long gone home and have dealt with their sugar crashes as the adults roam the streets in search of a very different kind of candy.

Leaning against Penelope’s balcony, you welcome the fresh air as you run your fingers through your hair, thankful for the warmth the costume provides unlike the girls below.

The sound of the door opening and closing catches your attention as Spencer stands beside you, his arms resting on the railing as he looks out at the city below and the drunken chatter climbing up the walls of buildings.

“Did you know Halloween is one of the more dangerous holidays?” Spencer asks, and you raise a brow to him as his smile widens before he carries on. “Between 2009 and 2013 the National Highway Traffic Safety Administration reported 40% of deaths were caused by drivers who were intoxicated from 7 pm to around 1 am.”

“Cheerful, Spence.” You mutter as a chill spreads through you once more.

“Here,” Spencer speaks up, wrapping his arm around you as he kisses the top of your head as you watch girls stumble over their heels as they yell for one another. “I’m glad you came tonight.”

Glancing up to Spencer, you push his goggles further up onto his partially white hair. “Oh yeah?” You tease, something you can’t help but do as Spencer nods.

Spencer watches as you rest your head against his shoulder, your thoughts clearly elsewhere as you hum contently.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Interrupting your daydreams, you straighten up.

“When did you know that you loved me?” You ask the question that’s been circling in your thoughts all evening.

Pausing for a moment, Spencer turns to face you, his eyes darting over to the balcony doors as everyone remains occupied.

“Truthfully, Y/n,” Spencer starts as he exhales shakily, something you weren’t anticipating. “the night you came over and wanted to give us a go.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, that night was filled with mixed emotions.

* that night *

You weren’t sure how your feet had guided you to his front door, but here you were.

Crumbling the piece of paper back into your pocket, you force back any worries as you knock on his front door and step back, preparing yourself to turn back and run if necessary.

Yet, the door swung open, revealing Spencer in comfortable attire as he tiredly rubs his eyes before focusing on the figure before him.

“Y/n?” He mutters, shocked to see you after how you dismissed him days prior. “What’re you doing here? I mean, how did you get my,”

“Penelope.” You tell him, cutting him off as he nods, who else could it have been?

Silence settles over you both as neither of you are sure what to say. On your drive over, you had a vague plan in place, an idea of what you want to say. Yet, standing in front of Spencer up close, the stubble lining his jaw and above his lip, you were lost for words all over again.

“Would you like to come in?” Spencer steps aside from his front door, revealing his slightly messy apartment as books are scattered across the floor.

“Okay.” You force confidence to strive through your voice as you step inside, your eyes wandering over his vast library as the front door closes behind you. “What I said the other night,”

“Was perfectly valid.” Spencer comments, holding his hands up before resting them in his pockets.

You suppress your sigh as you focus on anything but him and your eyes lock on a beaten copy of a book in front of your feet, ‘The Narrative of John Smith.’

“I heard you, but I wasn’t truly listening. I mean, it was a lot to take on board.” A short laugh leaves your lips as Spencer nods. “If you’ll let me, I’d like to hear about it, all of it.”

Lifting your head up, you see Spencer focusing on you with a perplexed look crossing his gaze. “But, why? You made it clear that night that you didn’t want to see me again.” Spencer reasons, fighting against his heart as it yells for him to shut up.

“I don’t know.” You admit, lifting your arms up as you sigh. “I just, for peace of mind, please? I waited three months to hear from you, and now I have I, I don’t want to just let it go.”

Stepping closer, Spencer hesitantly reaches out for your hand and squeezes it lightly. “Okay.” He whispers before guiding you to his sofa. “Well, I guess I’ll start after you drove off.”

Looking in awe at your boyfriend, you can’t help but notice how he retreats into himself after his statement.

“I just knew if you were willing to give me a chance after all of that, after listening to my story I wasn’t just interested in you, Y/n. I knew I loved you.” Spencer tells you as you nudge closer into his embrace, rising on your tiptoes.

“Want to know a secret, Spence?” You whisper into his lips. “I knew I loved you the moment you opened the door.” You chuckle, closing the distance between your lips as you kiss him, only to be interrupted as the doors slide open.

“Love birds, come on we’re about to play say it or shot it!” Penelope calls out as Spencer’s cheeks burn up and his goggles fall down onto his face.

Chuckling to yourself you force his goggles back up. “Shall we?” You ask, stepping forward as Spencer nods, taking your hand and following you back inside to join everyone else.

We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies. - Martin Luther King Jr.

The end.

TAGLIST (for this mini series) :

@koc-help @bellomi-clarke @castbyfox @http-cherries @easygoingtheatre @tomorrowmeansoportunities @rainsong01 @rexorangecouny @radtwinkie @eldahae @l0ve-0f-my-life

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lexosaurus · 4 years

Text

I Love You

My fic for day 5 of DP Side Hoes Week (yes I’m a day behind).

Character: Jazz Theme: Hospital

This oneshot exists within my Everything Was White fic series [ao3]. You do NOT have to be following Everything Was White to understand this fic, this one exists as a prequel in the timeline and I give enough context in the text for anyone to be able to understand it.

Okay, enjoy!

---

Jazz sat on the armchair, her gaze blank. Hazy. She hadn’t moved since she sat down some time ago. Time moved without reason, and she wasn’t sure how long it had been. Her back hurt and her lips were chapped, but she hardly noticed her discomfort.

The only thing that mattered was the person laying on the bed before her.

The person she hardly recognized.

Four weeks. That’s how long he had been missing from their lives, that’s how long the Guys in White had him. Twenty-eight days on the dot.

She could never forget his eyes as he was dragged out the door. They were wild, desperately staring down their parents who were both pinned down by government agents with guns trained to their heads. He screamed, struggling against his captures.

But it wasn’t enough.

Because in the end, he was thrown in the back of a white van. All while Jazz stood on the stairs doing nothing.

She should have freed him. She could have helped. But she was too weak.

Too weak.

Her eyes stung, and she wanted to cry. Break down. Sob. But she had already used up her stock of tears hours ago, when she finally saw him for the first time since he’d be transferred out of critical care.

He was frail, tiny. Nothing but skin and bones. His body was scarred, torn, encased in gauze and casts. Doctors fluttered about, talking in hushed tones as they analyzed her brother’s body. They tried not to show it, but Jazz knew they were baffled by him.

There was talk about his injuries. He hadn’t woken up yet, at least not completely, but Jazz was already told of the more...drastic injuries.

The Y scar on his chest.

The paralysis.

The starvation.

No one knew what the permanent effects were going to be. No one knew how he was going to fair once he woke up. But there was one thing they all knew for certain, a truth that none of the Fentons had said out loud yet:

Danny was not going to be the same anymore.

She crumbled, allowing her head to fall into her hands. Apparently, she still had more tears to give. A sob tore its way from her throat, pulling with it a wave of emotions that Jazz had just spent the last few hours desperately trying to repress.

She was tired. So, so tired. And yet, this nightmare refused to end.

“Danny, I—I’m so sorry.” Jazz’s voice was raw. The naked truth was hanging right there in front of her, the consequences of her complete failure.

She should have been there for him during the ghost fight. The one between him and Skulker that ultimately led to his revelation right there high in the skies in front of the entire town. She could have helped him.

She should have known the Guys in White would then come surround their house and take him.

She should have tried harder to find him and break him out of the government compound. They tried so hard, but they couldn’t find the stupid building.

She should have practiced her questions better in court. Maybe then the jury would have decided sooner. She could have gotten him released before he was hurt so bad.

“I’m sorry.”

He didn’t respond.

“I love you so much, Danny. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond.

---

“You alright there, son?” Jack asked. He tried to smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes.

It didn’t seem to matter. Jazz doubted Danny even heard their father’s question. She was honestly questioning if he even realized they were in the room.

His eyes wandered around the room as if he were still trying to take in the walls of the hospital. He woke up four days ago, and yet every day had been the same blank wandering gaze.

Jazz hoped it was just the pain medication the hospital was giving him. She desperately clung onto the belief that her brother would snap out of it one day and would come home and he would be back to normal.

Back to how he was before.

“Your mother and I are going to meet with the surgeon.” Jack put an arm around Maddie, pulling her into his side.

Her face was white, streaked with red as if she’d been crying recently, and the bags under her eyes had never been so pronounced. But Jazz couldn’t blame her. After all, she probably looked more or less the same.

“Stay with Danny, alright? We’ll come grab you after.”

“Sure, Dad,” Jazz said, putting on a smile she hoped was comforting.

Her mother muttered something that Jazz didn’t catch, and then both parents were gone.

And Jazz was alone. With Danny.

Again.

She turned back to face him. The doctors had said that he’d sustained significant brain damage, and they weren’t sure yet how much communication he would be able to do. He was too drugged up still, too out of it.

He couldn’t speak, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t understand her.

Or maybe that was her hopeful side talking again. She shouldn’t get her hopes up. She would only be hurt in the end.

“Hey, Danny,” Jazz tried. Her voice was thin. Dry. She tried to wet her lips and spoke again. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I hope you’re comfortable. If you were wondering, you broke your spine. I mean, I’m sure you already knew that but—” Her voice cracked. “—you know. That’s why you, um, might be uncomfortable right now. It’s the brace.”

He didn’t respond. He didn’t even look at her.

Just continued staring at the ceiling.

Jazz wondered if anything was going through his mind. If he had any questions. She would if she were Danny.

She tried to imagine the sort of things he would say. His voice, crackling through the throes of puberty, as he poked fun at her in that annoying way only a brother could accomplish. She tried to envision a world where he could still do that.

And she tried not to think about the fact that there was a good chance that she’d never hear his voice again.

“Your SCI was incomplete, you know. So there’s still a chance…” Jazz shook her head.

There she was getting hopeful again.

“Everyone really missed you, Danny. I—I really missed you.”

He blinked slowly. In her imagination, Jazz heard him say “I missed you too.”

“I love you.”

He didn’t respond.

---

“What band are we in the mood for today?” Jazz asked, scrolling through her playlist.

Danny was starting to come to. He seemed to be able to hold eye contact, albeit not for very long, and his minute facial expressions showed at least some understanding of what was happening around him.

Although, he still hadn’t spoken yet.

Jazz glanced brightly down at him. Now that she knew he was conscious of her presence, she couldn’t afford to show up at the hospital in sweats with her tear-stained face anymore. She had to be there for him. She had to be strong.

Maybe she had been too weak to help him before. Maybe back then, she had failed him.

But she would be damned if she wasn’t strong enough to help him now.

“What do you think? MCR? Blink-182?” she asked. “I got these band names from Sam, by the way. So if she lied to me about what music you listen to now, don’t blame me.”

Danny just stared at her with his owl-ish expression.

“Here, if you want, you can choose.” Jazz held her phone screen out in front of him, watching as his eyebrows scrunched up ever so slightly as he gazed up at the screen.

Jazz felt her smile falter for a split second before she pulled her phone away and straightened herself up on her chair.

She had to be strong.

“It’s okay, I’ll just choose one.” She tapped the screen and set her phone down.

The sound of over-compressed guitars filled the tiny bluetooth speaker on the windowsill, and Jazz beamed down at Danny, waiting for that tiny flicker of recognition to hit his face.

And, to her delight, some of the fog in his eyes momentarily lifted. He looked over to Jazz as if he were seeing her for the first time, the shock and disbelief seeping through the blank slate that was his expression.

Jazz was hardly able to keep the glee out of her voice. “You like it?”

His eyes flickered between Jazz and the bluetooth speaker. Back and forth again before settling back on the ceiling.

“Well, I’ll have to thank Sam for the recommendation later! She can’t wait to see you, you know. The doctors are only allowing family in your room right now, but maybe next week if you’re feeling up to it, Sam and Tucker can stop by. I don’t want to make any promises right now, but you never know.”

Danny’s eyes slowly traveled around the ceiling.

“Are you thirsty?” Jazz asked. “Hungry? Well, you’re probably not hungry. Doctors have been monitoring your nutrient intake a lot. I’m glad, too, because you have some color in your face again.”

His eyes shut, and a content smile twitched on his face.

Jazz couldn’t remember the last time he’d looked so peaceful.

“I love you, Danny.”

He didn’t respond.

---

Danny was home now. That should have been a good thing.

It should have been.

And it was. In so many ways, it was wonderful having him home again.

But in so many other ways, it wasn’t.

Jazz had been under some illusion that once he made it home, things would go back to normal. Sure, he would be in a wheelchair until his PT started, and he might not be able to turn into a ghost for a few weeks either, but her brother would be home.

Except, Danny never came home. Physically, he did. But mentally he was still trapped somewhere far away.

He was talking now at least. He’d started talking the week before he’d left the hospital. He wasn’t able to speak in full sentences, at least not without pausing, and he wasn’t able to really understand long sentences either, but this was a start.

Jazz wanted to hope that things would get better, but hope was a dangerous drug.

After all, even though he’d started speaking again, he still refused to talk about what happened to him. Anytime Jazz would try to bring the conversation up, he’d clam up and close off for the rest of the day.

And that hurt. It hurt so bad. She so desperately wanted to be there and support him, to help him talk through the trauma he’d experienced, but he just didn’t want to.

But that was okay. It had to be okay. She had to be strong.

She stood in front of his door, pausing only to compose herself before knocking.

He didn’t acknowledge her knock, but Jazz wasn’t expecting him too. He was trying to isolate himself, and Jazz wasn’t going to let him.

She’d already failed him once.

“Good morning, Danny!” Jazz bursted into the room, her voice chipper despite the fact that she hadn’t slept last night.

She doubted that Danny did either.

Danny was lying on top of his comforter, already dressed. Their mom must have gotten him situated before shutting herself down in the lab.

Their parents seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

“Come on, get up. I come bearing an activity!”

“Too early,” Danny grumbled.

Jazz ignored him, sauntering into the room brandishing a large, easy piece jigsaw puzzle she’d just ran out to buy that morning.

It was hard to find one for kids that wasn’t either a princess castle or a race car scene. Fortunately, the store had one on sale that had colorful, cartoon baby ghosts covering the image.

“Either you get up, or I drag you up. Either way, you’re doing this puzzle with me.”

“Puzzle?” Danny asked.

Jazz tried not to stare as he struggled upright, only swooping in to set his pillows upright behind him. “Yeah, puzzle.”

She set the box down in front of him, pulling off the lid and revealing the large pieces in front of him.

“That’s...so Boring.”

“Well, the doctors still want you avoiding screens for a little while longer. I figured this was better than staring at the wall.”

Danny eyed the box, his face impassive.

“Here, wait.” She went out into the hallway, grabbing a large piece of cardboard from the wall. “I brought something to make the puzzle on. Figured it would be easier than the mattress.”

“Okay.” He picked up one of the pieces, inspecting it slowly as if he couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

“So…” Jazz plopped herself down on the mattress next to Danny and put the cardboard over their laps. “What do you think we should do first?”

Danny gazed blankly down, his eyes trailing between the cardboard and the puzzle piece in his hand. He blinked, and then put the puzzle piece down on the cardboard.

“Okay, we can start with that one!” Jazz chirped.

“No…” Danny ran his hand through his hair. “No that’s not...need to sort.”

“Oh?” Jazz grabbed another piece from the box. “So what should I do with this one then?”

Danny gazed quizzically over at Jazz, grabbing the piece to inspect it. “Edge,” he finally said, setting the piece down on the opposite side of the board from the first piece.

“So we’re sorting the edge pieces from the regular pieces?”

Danny hummed, grabbing another piece from the box.

“Sounds like a good plan!”

They worked together in near silence after that, Jazz only stopping every so often when she could feel Danny’s attention slipping to ask him to help her sort a piece. It was almost cute how determined he was to complete the task correctly. It almost reminded Jazz of the quiet determination that would slip onto his features in the moments just before he transformed into Phantom.

Solving the puzzle was a whole different beast. If Jazz were honest, she wasn’t sure if they would have been able to finish in one sitting. Danny still tired far too rapidly throughout the day, and he still slept for more hours than he was awake.

But finally Danny snapped the last piece into place, completing their simple blob ghost picture.

“Nice job!” Jazz put her hand up for a high five.

Danny blinked, slowly processing the motion, before his brain caught up and he gave a little smirk, a tiny eye roll, but met Jazz’s hand all the same.

She put the cardboard with the now completed puzzle on the floor before sitting back against the fluffy pillows. Breathing out, she allowed herself to sink back into the cushions for just a moment.

She was so tired.

Her brain swirled, and she wanted to sink deeper into the darkness. But she couldn’t. She wasn’t allowed to.

“Are you asleep?” Danny asked.

“No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

A quiet trepidation settled over the pair. Jazz could feel the unspoken questions hanging in the air like forbidden fruit ripe for picking. But the apples were just out of reach, and she knew the branches wouldn’t sink lower until Danny was ready.

But he had to come home first. He would never be ready to tell her what happened until he finally came back to them. And Jazz didn’t know how long that would take.

“I love you,” Jazz said.

Danny didn’t respond.

---

Thanks for reading!

#danny phantom #dp side hoes week 2021 #everything was white #no beta!!#my writing #phicc #i'll probs go back like next week and actually edit this oneshot #but not rn during the event week

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harrysweasleys · 4 years

Text

baby makes three // f.w

Summary: Telling Fred you’re pregnant.

Warnings: brief mentions of sex

Word Count: 1.6k (short n sweet)

A/N: this wasn’t requested but i was in the mood for some dad fred content so here we are! (shoutout to the discord group for putting these ideas in my head, y’all know who you are.)

————————————

You paced around the apartment, the red sun rays pouring through the open windows, the fresh autumn breeze rolling though and brushing up against your warm skin.

For a day so beautiful, you felt like a complete storm was raging inside of your body. Nerves were bundling in your stomach and your mind was off in a whirlwind — the only thing keeping you tethered to reality was the sound of the beeping cars outside and the fact that you could now hear Fred jingling with the keys outside the apartment door.

You stopped your pacing, staring wide-eyed at the door. Eventually, it swung open, and a very flustered looking Fred stood on the other side, holding two large bags of groceries that he had so kindly picked up after working all day, along with his keys and a few boxes he had brought home from the shop/

“Hey, Freddie,” you smiled, brushing away your nerves and rushing over to help him, carrying the bags into the kitchen and placing them quietly on the counter, “How was your day?”

“Awful,” he groaned, placing the boxes down as well, “Had some rubbish clients.”

He turned to face you, taking off his jacket and tossing it onto the counter next to the boxes, not caring that he nearly knocked over a full glass of water, “Best part of my day is seein’ you, though.”

He approached you slowly, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a light kiss to your lips, his smile evident as he pulled away.

“Well, at least you’re done with work,” you pressed a quick kiss to his nose, pulling away and letting your mind wander off once more to how the hell you were going to tell him the news.

He had seemed so exhausted already, his eyes were dull and the bags underneath them were darker than they had been that morning before he left. The day had clearly drained him, the last thing you wanted was to make it even worse.

“You alright, love?” he asked quietly, beginning to unpack some of the groceries into the fridge.

You turned to face him, not even noticing you were in the process of biting your nails — nervous habit, a dead giveaway.

“Hm? Oh, me? Yeah, ‘m fine, fine,” you nodded forcefully, turning away from him and letting out a deep sigh. You faced the window, which was no longer shining with red light as the sun had gone down.

Fred didn’t believe you. But you didn’t blame him, you weren’t hiding your nerves very well. He dropped what he was doing and walked over to you, eyebrows furrowed and his face etched with concern.

“I think someone might be lying to me,” he stopped in front of you, wrapping his arms around your waist and gazing into your eyes, “Be honest w’me. What’s wrong?”

You sighed, leaning into his touch and resting your forehead against his chest. In times like this, you were thankful he was so bloody tall so you could just use him to hide.

“Stop hiding, what’s wrong? You’re staring to worry me, darling,” he chuckled slightly, pulling away from you and placing his fingers under your chin, lifting your head to face his. Although tired, his eyes were laced with concern.

You wanted to just tell him, straight up say it and hug it out. But what if it’s not what he wanted? What if this changed everything for him and he had to flip his life upside down? Did he even want to be with you for a long time? You gazed down at the glistening ring on your finger.

Ok, so maybe he did want to be with you for a long time, but what if he always envisioned his future differently? What if you were about to ruin his life?

But, what if he did want this? What if he had dreamt of this, had daydreams of what life would be like as a family? What if you were about to change his world for the better?

You laced your fingers in him and let out a deep breath, slowly walking over to the couch and pulling him behind you.

“Sit with me,” you looked up at him after you were seated. He did as he was told, slowly sitting down but his eyes never left yours. The panic on his face was growing by the second and you didn’t know what to say to get him to feel better.

“I’ve got news,” your voice shook, giving away how terrified you were feeling, “It’s pretty big.”

You linked your hand in his and he didn’t say anything. He certainly noticed the way your hand was shaking, he gave it a little squeeze and rubbed your skin soothingly with his thumb, but he didn’t say anything.

“So remember two weeks ago? We had, y’know, a really fun night?” you decided you’d start with that. After all, that is how all of this happened.

Fred smirked, “‘Course I remember. If I recall correctly, we didn’t sleep at all.” His worry seemed to cease as he thought back to the night. It had been a lot of fun. The two of you decided to ditch a dinner party last minute and stay in bed instead. Naturally, neither of you slept that night, becoming too focused on each other and the intimacy to do so.

“Well, I uh — I guess I just have to say it,” you took a deep breath, Fred’s smirk falling as he came back to reality, “I’m pregnant.”

The bomb had dropped, now all you had to do was wait for Fred’s reaction.

Silence.

He blinked rapidly, his hand going limp in yours. You could see his eyes widen, go back to normal, and then widen again, as if he kept wanting to say something but couldn’t find the words to do so. For a long while, he hadn’t said anything, the only sound he was making was his ragged breathing.

You nodded, leaning back on the couch and pursing your lips, “Well, as long as you say something within the next nine months, that’d be brilliant.”

His hand suddenly tightened around your own, his face flooding back to its natural colour and his eyes bulging as if suddenly coming to terms with what you had just said.

“We’re — we’re having a baby?” his voice was softer than you had ever heard it. If the apartment wasn’t dead quiet, you probably wouldn’t have heard him at all.

You nodded, hands still shaking, “Yep.”

His face broke out into a massive grin and he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a bone crushing hug before you could even register his change in mood.

“Bloody hell, we’re having a baby!” he rested his head in the crook of your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin, goosebumps rising in the wake.

You immediately slouched in relief. He was happy. You had been panicking and worrying for nothing. His grip tightened even more — it was as if he never wanted to let you go, but you weren’t complaining. You had been so worried he didn’t want a kid, but he was happy.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, a grin starting to form on your own lips as the nerves slowly started dissipating, “Yeah, we’re having a baby.”

He pulled away from you forcefully, placing both of his hands on the side of your face and pressing his lips passionately against yours. He was still smiling through the kiss, and you were as well. You had been so focused on his joy that you hadn’t even noticed tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Why’re you crying?” he pulled away, eyes scanning your face to check if you were alright, “Did I hug you too tightly? Did it hurt the baby?”

“No, no, I’m just happy,” you smiled, wiping at your tears and mentally scolding yourself for being so emotional. But, really, you were pregnant. Your emotions were going to be wild for the next nine months, it was just something both of you needed to get used to.

Fred was beaming, “So am I. I can’t believe it. We’re having a baby,” he placed his hands on your belly, which hadn’t begun to grown just yet, and leaned down so he was eye-level with it and started speaking in a soft voice, “I can’t wait to meet you. I’m going to love you with everything I have.”

Your cheeks were starting to hurt from the overbearing joy that was coursing through your body. You raised your hand, running it through Fred’s soft hair as he placed a delicate kiss against your tummy, giggling slightly at the tickling feeling his scruff left behind.

“Sorry, love,” he smirked at you once he sat back upright, “You might have competition for my heart.”

You pretended to be offended, placing your hand over your heart and letting out a dramatic gasp, “I am hurt. I am making your baby, you better love me just as much.”

“Well, I did have a part in the making,” he wiggled his eyebrows, leaning back against the couch and letting his hand rub circles over your skin.

You chuckled, rolling your eyes and leaning into him, resting your head against his chest, “Mhm, your part lasted twenty minutes. Mine lasts nine months.”

He wrapped his arms around you, placing his head on top of yours, “I’d do it again.”

“Hold your wand, let’s deal with this one first,” you placed your hand over his, which was still resting on your abdomen.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I can’t wait to have a family, and I can’t wait to do it with you.” He tilted his head away from you and gazed down at you, “I love you.”

You leaned over and pressed a light kiss to his lips, completely swooning over the thought of how he was going to be as a father.

“I love you too.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley imagines #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley one shot #fred weasley one shots #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fics

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samanthaa-leanne · 4 years

Text

25 Dates of Christmas: Day Twenty Five

You loved being a hero more than anything in the entire world. From the minute your quirk developed to when you signed on to your first hero agency, all you wanted to do was help people.

You lost your parents during a villain attack and if there was anything you wanted to do as a pro hero it was to save someone else from going through the pain you went through.

After signing on to the Endeavour agency you quickly rose in popularity quickly making it up in the ranks. After a few months you reached the top 5 most popular heroes, something you wished you could share with your parents. Thankfully your friends and coworkers congratulated you on your accomplishment, making sure you knew how amazing it was.

“Congrats, I guess.” A familiar voice said from behind you once the announcement went around the office. Turning around you saw none other than Ground Zero standing in the doorway to your office.

Over the years you and Bakugou had grown extremely close. Signing onto the agency the same day and being paired together soon after. Bakugou had risen in popularity just as fast as you had, which was exactly what he wanted. When you first met him he wouldn’t stop complaining about being paired with a “worthless extra” like yourself. That was until he saw your quirk in action.

You were on patrol with the hot headed blonde when a pair of villains started attacking civilians right in front of you guys. You shared a look with Bakugou not believing that they could be that stupid. Neither one of you hesitated as you jumped into action.

Your quirk activated as your brain analyzed the villains before you, learning what their weaknesses were before letting you harness that power. Bakugou had already started blasting one of the villains as you went after the second one. Knocking him out cold before he could even blink.

As you were handcuffing the villain, Bakugou appeared looking ready to continue fighting only to be left speechless as he saw the sight before him. His eyes looked between yours and the villains as he tried to comprehend what just happened.

“How did you..?” He asked not being able to complete his sentence as he tried to connect the dots himself.

“Do you know what my quirk is?” You asked, continuing when he shook his head no. “When activated my quirk analyzes someone's quirk to find their weakness and then I can harness that power to beat them.”

“Prove it. What’s my weakness?” He asked skeptically as he looked you up and down. You knew exactly what he was thinking. How could someone like you have a quirk like that?

“Your quirk lets you secrete nitroglycerin-like sweat from the palms of your hands that you can ignite on command allowing you to create explosions. So the less you sweat the less power you have. So if I change the temperature in the air to below freezing and incase you in ice that should do the job.” You answer with a shrug as you throw the villain in the back of the police car.

“Amazing.” He whispered so low you thought you misheard him. You ended up letting it go and from that day on Bakugou treated you with more respect, even though he would never admit that.

“Thanks Suki.” You said using the nickname only he let you use as you gave him a small smile before packing your things up for the day.

“Do you want to go grab a drink?” He asked as he uncrossed his arms from his chest and walked into your office to grab your bag from you.

For the last few weeks he had been doing a lot of little things for you. From opening the door for you to bringing you your favorite coffee in the mornings. He walked you home everyday and even carried your bag for you. Your heart told you he had a thing for you, but your brain told you he was just being nice as it tried to save you from heartbreak. You had feelings for the blonde hothead yourself, but refused to make things awkward between the two of you, so you kept them locked away, despite the occasional flirting you started.

“That sounds perfect after the day we had.” You answered in agreement as you walked out of the agency saying goodbye to everyone for the both of you, as he walked silently beside you.

The walk to the bar was spent in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed the crisp winter air, as snow fell around you. It had been snowing on and off all day and you were beyond excited, considering Japan hadn’t gotten as much snow compared to last year. You heard a soft chuckle from beside you as you stuck your tongue out trying to catch a snowflake.

“Are you laughing at me, Katsuki?” You asked, turning to glare at the man standing beside you.

“Maybe. What are you gonna do about it, pipsqueak?” He teased as he tried to hide his smile from you.

“Just wait and see, hothead.” You said sticking your tongue out at him as the bar came into view. Bakugou opened the door for you as you watched the employees hang up Christmas lights, missing the mistletoe that was being hung on the door after you walked in.

“You want your regular?” Bakugou asked as you made your way to an empty booth.

“Yes please.” You answered, giving him a smile as you sat down, your eyes following Bakugou as you watched him approach the bar. The bartender was a beautiful girl who you knew had a thing for him. It was evident in the way she practically threw herself at him, not caring that there was a counter between them. You couldn’t tell if Bakugou was just oblivious to her advances or if he just blatantly ignored her.

You tried to watch and listen to the conversation until your vision was blocked by a male’s chest. You tried your best to hide your discomfort as you lifted your head to make eye contact with the man in front of you.

“What’s someone as beautiful as you doing here by yourself? How about I buy you a drink and you come join me?” He asked flirting with you as you tried your best not to be too rude to him.

“No thanks. I’m not interested.” You answered as nicely as you could as you tried to get another view of Bakugou.

“Don’t be such a bitch about it.” He snapped raising his voice, which had you ready to punch him in the face.

“She said no, jackass. Now get lost before I do it for you.” Bakugou said as he set your drinks down before turning to challenge the guy in front of you.

As the stranger looked between you and Bakugou he realized he couldn’t win in a fight and backed off, but not before whispering insults at you loud enough where you both heard them.

“What did you just say?” Bakugou yelled after him, getting ready to get up and follow him to kick his ass. You reached your hand out, stopping Bakugou before he could stand up shaking your head at him.

“It’s not worth it.” You reassured as you took a sip from your drink. “What’s up with you and the bartender?” You asked, changing the subject before he could argue with you.

“I don’t know what you're talking about.” He scoffed as he took a drink from his beer, avoiding eye contact with you.

“She’s cute. You should ask her out.” You said as you took another drink from your glass. Your words cut a hole in your heart as you pictured him with another girl. You had this fairytale dream that one day he would fall for you like you had him and he would confess his love for you and you would live happily ever after like they did in the movies. But the real world was nothing like the movies, and sometimes you had to pick and choose which dreams you make into reality.

“She’s not my type, plus I have my eye on someone else.” He said, giving you a strange look as you downed the rest of your drink, your heart shattering in your chest as his words sunk in.

I have my eye on someone else. His words repeat in your head like a mantra. He has feelings for someone, and that someone isn’t you.

“Thanks for the drink Bakugou, but I think I better call it a night. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.” You slipped your coat on and grabbed your bag sliding out of the booth before he could offer to walk you home.

“She called me Bakugou.” He whispered so low you thought you swore you misheard him.

“Are you mad at me or something?” He asked stopping you from walking out the door. You had been so close, but something in his voice stopped you from ignoring him and walking out the door.

You turned around so fast you ran into his chest. “Of course not.” You reassured as his arms came out to steady you. “Why would you think that?”

“You called me Bakugou.” He said, his voice laced with concern as he looked in your eyes.

“Oh I did? Sorry, Suki. I’m just tired. I really should be getting home.” You smiled reassuringly at him before you turned to walk out the door. As you stepped through the threshold you felt Katsuki’s hand on your arm, turning you before his lips attached to yours. The kiss was hot and full of passion, your hand coming to rest on his chest as he kissed you fiercely. You returned the kiss, opening up your mouth slightly as his tongue roamed your mouth. He broke away slightly, nipping at your lip before leaning his head against yours to catch some breath.

“What was that for?” You asked breathlessly as you closed your eyes and your hand stayed on his chest, his heartbeat going wild under your palm.

“Mistletoe.” He answered, his voice hoarse as he nodded towards the plant that hung above your heads. “And I did tell you I had my eye on someone.” He admitted pressing another kiss to your lips as he held your face in his hands.

“You meant me?” You asked against his lips, a smile breaking out at his confession.

“Of course, idiot. Who else would I be talking about?” He asked as he looked at you like you were the densest person he’s ever met. “I wouldn’t go out of my way to do all that cute shit for anyone else.”

“Just shut up and kiss me.” You said as you rolled your eyes up at him.

“Whatever you say, pipsqueak.”

His lips met yours once again as he kissed you like his life depended on it. You may not have gotten the fairytale ending you had envisioned, but fairytale endings were overrated anyways.

Masterlist

Taglist: @moonlightaangel @dabilove27 @cathy8taffy 22 spots open

Beta reader: @class1-a

#bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #bnha holiday event #mha holiday event #mha x reader #bnhabookclub #samanthaa-leanne #25 dates of christmas #day twenty five #mistletoe kiss

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come-on-shitty-boys · 4 years

Text

//lunch date memories. sakusa kiyoomi//

Request: c-can I ask for some Omi fluff or anything actually🥺 Up to you- my brain diededed- lmfao hahhaa It's just fully shut down hue- ily Maddi 🥺

Warnings: None bby ;-; just pure unadulterated fluff

Word Count: 1.8K

Notes: Me: ah yes. Let’s do some nice, short fluff.

Me, 6 pages later: 0-0

“Omi, did we really have to come all the way up here for a picnic?” You pant, struggling to climb the steep slope of the trail. You were far behind your boyfriend who seemed less than bothered at the hike. Yet, you had sweat dripping down your face, knees weak from the constant attempt to keep up with Sakusa’s long strides.

“It’ll be worth it, I promise,” he says, turning to give you the faintest hint of a smile. He stopped, letting you catch up to him before slowing down his pace, helping you not-so-elegantly scramble over some of the particularly large rocks blocking the hiking trail that proved to not be a setback for Sakusa’s incredibly long legs, letting him easily step up and over any of nature’s obstacles.

And you know what? He was right. It was worth it. The view from the top was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a long time. Trees surrounded you, letting the sunlight filter through layers of leaves, stippling the ground with tiny golden beads of light. Clumps of wild flowers settled around the edges of the clearing, swaying daintily in the warm summer breeze.

As you catch your breath, wiping sweat from your chin, Sakusa lays the blanket down on the ground, smoothing down the fabric. In the least graceful fashion possible, you both flop down. You lay back, chest still heaving with ragged breaths. Your boyfriend only hums, looking down at you as he sets out to unpack the bag that carried the bentos he had prepared that morning.

“How are you not even the slightest bit exhausted?” You whine, rolling over onto your stomach, untying the soft purple cloth around your bento as Kiyoomi set two water bottles between you.

“It helps that I’m not a shortie,” he claims, tweaking your nose softly between his fingers.

“Hey!” You huff, holding your nose and shooting him a soft glare. He says nothing, just opens his own lunch and begins eating in silence. For many moments, the two of you sit in comfortable silence, letting the soft gusts of wind tousle your hair in every which way as it brings the sweet scent of flowers towards you.

Sakusa’s eyes are soft as he examines you. You’re lost in your meal, lazily scrolling through social media, every now and then lips shifting up in a little smile at a silly meme. Strands of hair flitting gently as the sun’s rays shined against your skin, casting a warm glow on your delicate features. It looked like a scene straight from a cheesy rom-com, but it’s not like Sakusa complaining. He’d happily be the lead in any movie if you were right there with him. It was beautiful.

You were beautiful.

If someone had told Sakusa when he was in high school that he’d be in love, he would’ve laughed in their faces. It’s not like he never wanted to be, sure, he had crushes, but most of them were just fleeting interests, lasting only a short amount of time and never really going further than a crush. Yet, here he was, five years later, sitting across from you. The first person he had ever truly fallen in love with. And hopefully, the last.

It was here, three years earlier, that he kissed you for the first time, holding your soft cheeks between his hands, letting his lips move over yours. It was awkward and clumsy, noses colliding more than once, and not at all what he had imagined a kiss being like, but it was nice and your lips felt so warm against his. He never wanted to pull away and if it weren’t for his lungs screaming for oxygen, he never would’ve.

He had been panting, face flushed, eyelids refusing to open in fear that this was all just some fervent dream. But, you had softly spoken his name and he had opened his eyes to stare down into yours. Eyes so full of life and love. Love for him. He had to move his thumbs across your skin, just to make sure one last time that this wasn’t a dream. The feeling of your face underneath his worn fingers brought a smile to his lips.

He had brought you here for a picnic, just like the one he had set up for today. But, you had made the lunches that day, promising that you washed everything properly while preparing them. Sakusa had noticed your small sigh of relief when he willingly took second, third, fourth bites until it was inevitably gone. Conversation had been much like it was now, nearly non-existent, preferring to revel in one another’s company than having meaningless discussions about things like the weather or the view.

If Sakusa Kiyoomi had been told in high school that in five years, he would be getting engaged, he wouldn’t have believed it. He would have just rolled his eyes, walking off, unamused by the conversation. But, now, there’s a small weight in his pocket and hundreds of pounds of pressure weighing down on his shoulders. Yet, the thought of it kept bringing a soft smile to his face, the mental image of you smiling down at him as he put the little diamond on your finger brought the familiar warmth to his heart. It was a warmth that he felt every single time he looked at you, thought about you when you were apart.

Bentos had long been pushed aside, crumbs being the only remnants. You had moved so that your head was laying against his thigh, every now and then poking his chin to get his attention to show him something that you thought he would enjoy. Kiyoomi’s long fingers were threaded in your hair, reaching for the right thing to say. He was sure that if you had a clear view of his face, you would be asking a million questions, trying to get inside his head and figure out what was with the weird look on his face.

“Hey,” he started, looking down at you.

You lock your phone, putting it down beside you, smiling up at him. “Hey.”

“Can I show you something?” When you just nod, he just shakes his head and tweaks your nose again. “You have to get up, shortie.”

Your lips settle into a cute pout at the nickname, but you sat up anyway, letting him pull you up from the blanket. He tugged you towards the edge of the clearing where the sun shone through the canopy in the breathtaking way. Kiyoomi wasn’t really sure what he was pointing at, but he led your gaze to something in the distance. Yet, even if there was nothing to look at, you still pretended to be mesmerized, whispering softly, “Oh, Kiyoomi. This is incredible.”

Sakusa pulled the little silver band from his pocket. He had been waiting for just the right moment for weeks now and it was here. He had every ounce of courage possible coursing through his body.

While you were distracted by nothing, Sakusa Kiyoomi sank down to a single knee. The happiness of just being here with you, ready to move your relationship forward, pushed any of those annoying thoughts about the filthiness of the dirt to the back of his mind. He didn’t care. You were the only thing that mattered to him right now.

It was the lack of his presence that made you turn your head side to side, looking around wildly for him. You stepped backwards, eyes wide in shock as you looked down into his deep brown eyes. Your boyfriend reached out his hand, taking yours so he could pull you closer towards him.

When he hadn’t even said a word and saw the tears streaming down your face, he was convinced that he had done something wrong. He was already getting up to wipe your cheeks, but you just shook your head, pushing him back to the ground. “No- No, I’m sorry. I’m just- I’m really happy, Omi. You can go ahead. I promise, I’m fine,” you say, smiling wide as you try to dry your eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asks, sinking back down, concern swimming all over his features.

“Yes, baby. I promise.”

He just nods, taking a deep breath. “I’m not really the best at words, but you’ve probably realized that by now. I didn’t really prepare a speech or anything, so this is likely not going to be the proposal you envisioned. The thing is, I have never felt like this with anyone else before. Every time I see you or think about you, I just get so stupidly happy and it took me a really long time to figure out what I was feeling. But, I realized that what I was feeling was love. I was in love with you and I don’t want to be in love with anyone ever again.” He pauses, brows furrowed tightly together as he breaks eye contact with you. “Wait- that sounded bad, didn’t it?”

You shyly shrug as if to politely say yes, but even he can’t miss the breathy laugh escaping your lips.

“Let me try that again- I don’t want to fall in love with anyone else. Was that better?” Sakusa quickly waves those thoughts away. “Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I love you. I love you so incredibly much. I love every moment that we get to spend together and I want more of those moments. I don’t know if you remember, but we had our first date here. I kissed you right here in this clearing for the first time. It- It really only felt natural to do this here, where everything started all those years ago. I want to marry you and I hope that you’ll have me as your husband, so that we can share more moments like this. Y/N, will you marry me?”

“Of course, Kiyoomi. I would love that more than anything,” you say, smiling down at him, holding his face in your hands. “Or, should I say, shortie,” you tease, pinching his own nose in retaliation.

Your boyfriend, or rather, your fiancé slowly got back to his feet, looking down at you from his incredible height. “What were you saying, shortie?” There’s a gentle smile on his face as he takes your left hand, placing the ring on your finger. “I love you, honestly,” he whispers, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I love you more, Omi.”

And just as it had begun, this chapter of your life ended with lips connected. But this time, less awkward and significantly more graceful. There was no clumsy bumps of noses, but even after all these years, Sakusa Kiyoomi found himself unwilling to pull away.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #kiyoomi #omi #imagine #x reader #fluff

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raleighcarrera · 4 years

Text

cliché

ride or die | colt kaneko x mc (ellie wheeler)

an au where everyone is college friends and logan is getting married and the best friend of his ellie always hated is going to be logan’s best man. as the maid of honor, she’s probably expected to be at least a little nice to him.

for @rodappreciationweek, of course! day 7/wild card

(spoiler alert: i bent the rules of weddings for plot reasons so go easy)

tags: @choicesarehard, @lovehugsandcandy, @pixeljazzy, @troublemakerinspace, @dancingboba, @yaushie, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @tempesrature, @zigtheeortega, @beccadavenport, @theeccentricbibliophile

~15.5k words | M (18+)

she squealed, clapping her hands excitedly in view of the laptop’s webcam. “i’m so happy for you guys! seriously, this is amazing.”

from across the country, ingrid beamed, still holding her left hand aloft so ellie could see her ring. “did you know?”

ellie shook her head. “i knew he’d bought a ring but i didn’t know he was proposing now.” her attention turned to logan, “i thought you were waiting until your anniversary?”

he shrugged, looking just as excited as ingrid did. “i couldn’t wait anymore, it was driving me crazy.”

ingrid leaned her head on logan’s shoulder. “ellie, say you’ll be my maid of honor.”

“oh my god, of course i will!” ellie gushed, blinking away a sudden wave of emotion. “please, you guys know i’d do anything for you.”

the two of them exchanged a glance. “glad to hear you say that,” logan said slowly, “because i already asked colt to be my best man.”

the smile dropped off her face. “are you kidding me?”

“come on, it won’t be that bad,” ingrid rushed to assure her, “you’ll hardly have to deal with him. but -- while we’re breaking bad news to you...” she pursed her lips, and then shrugged. “we already set a date, too.”

“it’s in three months,” logan interjected helpfully.

ellie felt her eyes bug out. “three months?”

“el, we got our dream venue,” ingrid sighed wistfully, “you’re going to die when you see it. it was the only saturday they had available for, like, the next five years. it’s in santa monica overlooking the water and it’s just -- it’s perfect.”

“that’s really soon,” she said dumbly, “we have a lot to do.”

“totally.” ellie watched as ingrid shifted from blushing bride in love to ruthless, no-nonsense delegator. “we’re going to cram as much of it in as we can when you’re home for spring break. i already made us appointments to go look at dresses and tuxes and then -- we’ll figure everything else out when you’re here.”

the thought of spending her spring break shopping with colt kaneko was already making a headache start to throb behind her eyes. but ingrid and logan were her best friends. and they deserved the wedding of their dreams.

she pasted the biggest, most extreme smile she could muster on her face. “sounds great, you guys.”

ellie relished the long flight home from new york to los angeles, well aware that it was probably going to be the last moment she had to relax until the end of the summer.

there had to be some irony in the fact that she was midway through pursuing her ph.d and more stressed out about her college friends’ wedding than anything else.

but her coursework was going well. everything in her life was falling into place perfectly, exactly how she’d always envisioned it.

this was the wrench in the plan. how she was supposed to make time to come back home for ingrid and logan’s wedding when she’d already committed to spending her summer in miami doing field work was a problem she didn’t need.

so she spent the flight napping, enjoying the five hours in the air as the only chance she’d get to kick back during her spring break. if she knew ingrid at all, she was going to be barking orders from the moment ellie’s feet touched orange county soil until the second they left.

still, there were at least a few hours she could spend delaying the inevitable.

riya picked her up at the airport and ellie threw herself into her arms eagerly for a giant hug. “oh my god, i am so glad to see you. thank you for picking me up -- i pretty much have bridal boot camp all week.”

“ingrid’s got it all planned out, huh?” riya asked, helping her get her suitcase in the car with a grin. “look, it probably won’t be that bad. you’re you -- when darius and i got married you were the reason we didn’t even need a wedding planner!”

“that was different,” ellie explained, as riya started driving them back to the city, “you and darius are normal. maid of honor doesn’t mean the same thing to ingrid that it meant to you, trust me.”

“well, i believe in you,” her oldest friend declared, “and even if it’s awful, just come over afterwards and we can drown ourselves in wine.”

“done and done,” she sighed. “i’m sorry i probably won’t be around much this week otherwise. i know it’s been forever since we caught up.”

“please, i can’t even imagine how busy you are,” riya said, waving her apology off, “you’re getting close to the home stretch, eh?”

ellie shrugged. “i still have two more years of study, but -- yeah, pretty much. it’s crazy.”

“so crazy,” riya agreed, “but you will absolutely see me and dare in miami as soon as you get set up there.”

the thought of it, with everything she knew was ahead of her this week, sounded like nothing short of paradise. “can’t wait,” she said genuinely, sighing as the car slowed to a stop in front of the house she’d grown up in. “wanna come in and say hi to my dad?”

“uh uh,” riya chided, “i’m done being the buffer between you two. sooner or later, you’re going to have to have that long overdue heart-to-heart.”

“okay, dr. phil,” ellie groaned, “thanks a lot.” her phone lit up with a text from ingrid as soon as she closed the car door.

be at your house in 5 it said, pulling a sigh of relief from deep within her.

saved by the bell.

ellie only had a moment to drop her bags and shout a quick hello to her dad before she heard a car horn honk and rushed back outside, leaning over the car’s center console to give ingrid a big hug hello.

“boy, am i ever glad to see you,” her friend said. “everything is already such a disaster. the venue is giving me such an attitude about moving our ceremony outside and my sister is an out of control diva who is, like, demanding to be allowed to read a poem before we say our vows and -- i swear i’ve almost killed logan at least twice.”

“wow. okay, well -- all of that sounds fixable.” though already she knew the next three months were going to be nothing like the ramp up to riya and darius’ wedding. ellie stifled a sigh.

“oh, it will be,” ingrid threatened darkly, “we’re doing everything at once today. dresses -- tuxes -- groomsmen, bridesmaids. i tried being nice about it, but do you know what i realized? some people don’t deserve to be allowed to make their own decisions. so i changed our appointment and i’m going to supervise and everyone who acts normal will be allowed to come help me pick out my dress at our new appointment on wednesday.”

ellie blinked. “whatever you want,” she said finally, her brain still working to process what the hell she was talking about, “it’s your day.”

“yes it is,” ingrid agreed viciously, “i’m glad you’re on board. come on.”

ellie followed behind her into the boutique they’d arrived at, immediately catching sight of eight or so of their closest friends from college, plus logan’s cousin and ingrid’s sister, the latter who was staring at a long, pink dress with her arms crossed petulantly over her chest. “i’m not trying that on,” she said, as ellie stepped closer, “it’s going to accentuate my shoulders.”

“look, brat,” ingrid started, lowering her voice to the dangerous timbre ellie had come to associate with group project members who weren’t pulling their own weight, “get in that dressing room and put this on right now or so help me god --”

“ellie!”

she turned around and saw logan, the distressed look on her face instantly melting into one of relief. “oh my god, hi,” she laughed, rushing over for a hug, “it’s so good to see you!”

“hey, back at you,” he grinned, “seriously, i know this probably isn’t how you wanted to spend your spring break, but -- thank god you’re here. ingrid needs all the help she can get.”

ellie pulled out of his arms and saw that he was wearing an elegant black tuxedo, the lines of which settled nicely on his shoulders and seemed to suit him perfectly. “okay, but -- this is a great tux.” she called out to ingrid over her shoulder. “come look at this one.”

ingrid walked over and gave logan a cursory glance. “i hate it. get changed.”

logan shot her an amused glance, but dipped back into the dressing room without a word. bless him, ellie thought, before drawing in a deep breath and asking, “okay, where do you want me?”

as if on cue, a harried shop attendant immediately dropped a pile of gowns into ellie’s arms. “follow me.”

the first dress she tried on was bright pink and heavily ruffled -- so ugly she honestly didn’t even want to show everyone.

but she hitched up the skirt and stepped out of the dressing room obligingly, standing in front of the mirrors and the rest of the bridal party for ingrid’s judgment.

you have the ideal body type, ingrid had explained nonsensically to her as they herded her off with the gowns, so you’ll try on all of them and then once we find one we like everyone else will try it on, too.

ugh. “it’s not... that bad,” ellie said delicately, once she was situated on the platform in front of the group.

“not if you’re little bo peep.”

god. she’d know that smug, arrogant, self-centered, self-obsessed, narcissistic egomaniac voice anywhere.

“hi, colt,” ellie said pointedly, without turning her head, “nice to see you, too.”

he stepped closer, directly into her field of vision. there was no avoiding looking at him, then.

colt was just as handsome as he’d been the last time she’d seen him, over a year ago at logan’s twenty-fifth birthday party, but this time, he was in a navy blue tux that had no business looking as good as it did.

he smirked at her. “as if anyone could miss you in that thing.”

ellie sighed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. formalwear could only go so far when it came to making him appear tolerable, it seemed. “do you always have to be the most insufferable person in every room you’re in?”

“not always, no. but i like to win.”

“it’s disgusting,” ingrid declared abruptly, before ellie could snap back at him, “please take it off. can you try on the purple one next?”

she ducked back into the dressing room, thunking her head softly against the wall once the door swung shut behind her. why me, ellie thought miserably, i’m a good person. this isn’t fair.

it took two and a half hours, but eventually, she’d tried on what felt like every single dress at the store. finally, once she’d wiggled into a gown that was a soft, sky blue, figure-hugging with thin straps and delicate lace accents over tasteful cut-outs, ingrid gasped, “that’s it! that’s the one.”

every bridesmaid, including ellie, sagged with relief. “great,” she smiled, “i’ll just get out of the way so everyone else can try theirs on, too.”

just before she stepped back inside the dressing room to get changed, she caught sight of colt, who was still standing around on their side of the shop for some reason. he was staring at her, face carefully blank -- though there was something in his eyes she couldn’t quite place.

as soon as he noticed she’d caught him looking, he stormed off.

once ellie was back in her street clothes, ingrid said, “i’ll finish up over here. can you please go make sure the guys are on the right track?”

ellie winced as she approached the men’s side of the store. half of logan’s groomsmen were dressed in navy, the other half in black -- logan had a white jacket on and one of their friends from college, brent, was inexplicably wearing pants that were powder blue.

“oh my god, ingrid’s going to kill you,” she said to logan. “i can see why she sent me over here to babysit.”

“hey, i’ve got it sort of under control,” logan said defensively, “she said she wanted slate grey. look at this.”

ellie cringed again as he held a jacket on a hanger aloft in front of her eyes. “that’s charcoal grey.”

the determined look on logan’s face crumpled immediately. “fuck. can you help me?”

she was already nodding before he finished his question. “just -- get in there and get that off before anyone sees. i’ll pull tuxes for everyone.”

it was only a few minutes before she was passing out new outfits, herding each of logan’s groomsmen into their respective dressing rooms one by one.

only one of them gave her any trouble about it. as soon as she passed him his tux, colt scowled, asking, “what is this?”

“a tuxedo,” she answered tersely, “presumably you’ve seen one before? like, an hour ago? those are all called tuxedos. maybe you never learned the word?”

he merely rolled his eyes at her. “why are you giving it to me?”

“because i want you to put it on. now. like, immediately.”

still, he just stood there. “i already tried on forty of them.”

“then one more shouldn’t make much of a difference.” she shoved his shoulder expectantly. “go.”

ingrid wandered over just as they all started to emerge. as they stood in a line outside the dressing room, she laid a hand to her heart and gasped. “oh my god, they’re perfect. baby, you did such a good job!”

“actually --” logan started, though he stopped abruptly as soon as he caught sight of the way ellie was frantically shaking her head from behind ingrid’s back, “uh, thanks. i want everything to be perfect for you.”

“oh my god, you guys can do something right,” ingrid sniffed, “i’m so happy. okay -- fuck it, let’s go get drinks. i’ll get the first round.”

a few of their friends cornered her as soon as she got her first drink. it was the same every time she came home; everyone wanted to know how new york was, how school was going, what the dating pool was like on the east coast and if she’d met anyone. they asked the same questions every time ellie was able to make it out so they could catch up, and she gave the same answers.

it was exhausting. she gulped down her glass of wine as quickly as humanly possible, just so she could have an excuse to escape back to the bar.

the bartender slid her a shot when he passed her refilled wine glass back to her. his smile was sympathetic. “you look like you need this.”

ellie grimaced at him, but immediately lifted the shot to her lips and knocked it back. “that obvious?”

“oh, yeah.” he placed his palms on the bar top and leaned in close, grinning brightly at her. “let me guess. family reunion?”

“worse,” she sighed, “two of my best friends from college are getting married. in three months.”

he whistled, slowly shaking his head. “brutal. i don’t think we have enough alcohol in the bar to help you with that.”

“tell me about it,” ellie laughed, taking a sip from her wine glass to chase away the burn of the shot she’d done, “you don’t even know the half of it.”

“well...” he smiled charmingly at her again. “my shift is over in twenty minutes. i’ll gladly listen to you complain, if you want.”

she blinked. “oh, i --”

“hey, don’t look now, but that guy over there has the angriest eyebrows i’ve ever seen.” the bartender leaned in a little closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “boyfriend?”

“what?” ellie turned around and followed the line of his gaze.

sure enough, colt was glaring at them from the booth with the rest of their friends, his eyebrows drawn together thunderously.

“oh my god, no,” she said, turning back around as quickly as possible, “never. we don’t even like each other.”

“right. well -- listen. if you do wanna pick this up some other time, here’s my number, okay? no pressure.”

she watched, dumbfounded, as he wrote it down on a cocktail napkin, printing his name evenly below it. ben.

all the girls cheered for her when she got back to the table.

“is that a phone number?” julia demanded, her grin wide and wickedly sharp. she reached over and plucked the napkin out of her hand. “jesus, ellie. you’ve been back in the city for, what, an afternoon?”

“give it,” she said, stepping forward as the rest of the girls passed it around the table, out of her reach, “oh my god, he was just being nice.”

“no, please,” gemma laughed, holding the napkin up over her head, “tell us again how you’re too busy to date.”

“i am too busy to date.” she bounced up on her toes and snatched the cocktail napkin out of her friend’s hand, folding it up and tucking it into the pocket of her jeans. “and i live across the country, remember?”

“hey, that doesn’t mean you can’t have some fun while you’re home this week, right?” brent asked, making her aware, all at once, that the guys were officially clued into their conversation, too. “speaking of, ryan moore keeps asking me about you.”

beyond brent’s shoulder, colt was still staring at her. he looked tense, his grip firm on the glass in his hand. his jaw was clenched tight.

“can we talk about something else?” ellie asked finally, lifting her wine glass to her flushed cheek. “my love life can’t be that interesting to you guys.”

logan reached out and ruffled her hair. “hey, you’re our last single friend. you can’t blame us for being invested.”

“colt’s single,” she reminded him, before she could bite her tongue. ellie risked another glance his way and found him scowling at her.

“colt doesn’t count,” ingrid interjected, “he doesn’t have any social skills. you are a catch. you just need to put yourself out there.”

“and i promise, once i have my ph.d, you can set me up with anyone you want.” a discussion they’d had at least a thousand times before. ingrid looked as pleased about it as she’d ever been, which was to say not very much at all. before she could respond, ellie continued, “hey, will someone please play pool with me? i haven’t shot in forever.”

to her surprise, colt offered, “i will.” ellie slowly turned towards him and found him smirking at her again. “who knows what’d happen to your virtue if you went over there alone?”

fucker. he’d probably volunteered to go with her on purpose -- now there was no way for her to get out of it. and if she stayed at the table for one minute longer she was going to scream.

her eyes narrowed at him. “thanks.”

colt set up the table like she wasn’t glaring at him bitterly, humming to himself while he racked the balls and then passed her a cue.

“you’re awful,” she said, as she snatched it out of his hands.

he just grinned at her. “thank you. break?”

ellie leaned over the table to line up her shot, knocking the cue into the balls. two of the solids slid into the corner pockets. her hip leaned against the table as she watched him survey the setup critically, and she took advantage of the fact that his eyes were elsewhere to study him in turn, making note of what was different about him since the last time they’d seen each other.

he’d recently gotten a haircut, but was otherwise unchanged -- he wore the same leather jacket, had the same smug smile, was still so insufferably arrogant she found talking to him pretty much impossible.

“so, what’s your deal?” he asked suddenly, pulling her from her thoughts and knocking the striped number eleven ball smoothly into one of the side pockets, “you a rocket scientist or whatever yet?”

ellie rolled her eyes, trying not to flush when he lifted his head and looked directly at her. despite his many, many flaws, she’d always found him unnervingly hot. “my degree is in chemistry. so -- no. i still have two more years in the program.”

“yeah, but what are you going to do with it? once you’re a doctor.” even the way he said the word sounding mocking.

she ignored him in favor of focusing on the table, and knocked one of her balls in. once it was his turn to shoot, she answered, “if you need to know, my specialization is in environmental science. one day i’ll hopefully work alongside some of the best in the world to ensure environmental hazards are at an all time low.”

“so whaddya moving to miami for?” he asked, effortlessly sinking two balls into the pocket at once, “their environment is already pretty sweet.”

“the department is sending me to collect data from the water and air outside of the city,” she answered, her eyes on the table as she tried to locate her next best shot, “it’s for my dissertation. it’s only for the summer.”

“shame,” colt murmured, laughing under his breath when her next shot went wide, missing her target completely, “i’ll be stuck dealing with this mess on my own.”

“somehow i doubt that,” ellie said, “it’s only a timezone change. there’s still phones and video calls and plenty of ways for all of you to bother me.”

“only if you pick up.” smoothly, he sunk the last three striped balls, one after another. she scowled at him. “the way the rest of them talk about how hard you are to pin down you’d think you were the president or something.”

“i have a demanding course load,” she huffed out defensively, “so we should get started on planning their bachelor and bachelorette party before my flight back on sunday. that should be the only thing that’s still up in the air after all our appointments this week.”

“don’t even get me started on the concept of a joint bachelor party,” colt sighed, leaning over in front of the eight ball, “it’s going to be the lamest trip of all time. side pocket.”

“i don’t know,” ellie murmured, resting on her cue as the eight ball sailed effortlessly into the side pocket as indicated, “i think it’ll be fun.”

he straightened up and smirked at her, spreading his hands out wide as if to say look at me. what an asshole. “you would.” colt nodded at the table. his smirk lengthened. “looks like you still suck.”

ellie shoved her pool cue back into his open hand. “one thing you’ll never know,” she promised, spinning on her heel and striding back to the table as quickly as possible.

“thanks for all your help today,” ingrid said sweetly on the drive home. “i know it wasn’t easy -- dealing with my idiot sister and all of those guys.”

“colt was as terrible as ever,” she mused, officially thinking too much about it. “i don’t know how he never gets tired of himself. he is such a prick.”

“totally,” ingrid agreed, even though ellie knew she’d softened to him, lately -- though she wasn’t sure she’d ever understand why or how. “but he just picks on you because he likes you.”

ellie lifted her head from where it’d been leaning against the passenger side window and turned towards ingrid with a look of confusion contorting her expression. “what? no.”

“yes,” she insisted, “he’s wanted to bang you since freshman year.”

“okay -- you’re too drunk to be driving,” ellie laughed, though even she could hear the undercurrent of nerves in the tone of her voice, “he’s an asshole to everyone. it doesn’t have anything to do with me.”

“well, he sure doesn’t talk to me like he talks to you.”

ellie waved her hand dismissively. “because you and logan have been dating for, like, a hundred years. i’m positive he’s just as big a dick to gemma and julia and christie.”

“okay,” ingrid mouthed, arching her eyebrows at the road.

she furrowed her brow. “he is.”

“forget i said anything,” ingrid said breezily as the car slowed to a stop in front of her dad’s house. “i’ll pick you up tomorrow at nine, okay? seriously, thanks again for all your help.”

“anytime.”

dread filled her stomach as ellie dragged her feet up the path to the house. all the lights were on inside, which meant her dad was still awake. “hey pumpkin,” he greeted her, as soon as she toed off her shoes and dropped her bag, “long day?”

“you have no idea.” ellie walked straight to the sofa and flung herself down onto it face-first, groaning into the cushions. for a moment, it felt like she was back in high school, without a care in the world other than coursework and group projects and prom. she drew in a deep breath. “planning this wedding is going to be a headache.”

“you’ll pull through,” her dad assured her, “you always do.”

ellie pressed her forehead to the fabric of the couch and scowled, the freedom of her hair covering her face allowing her to express how she really felt. that was what everyone always said: she’d be fine. she’d figure it out. she’d make it happen.

part of her was so tired of always bending over backwards, always finding a way to make things work -- always being perfect.

some first day back it was shaping up to be.

“i guess,” she mumbled, letting herself sulk for one more long moment before finally lifting her head and sitting up straight. “are you working tonight?”

“yep -- on my way out now. glad i caught you, though. i feel like i haven’t seen you in forever.”

she winced, turning away from the disappointment in his eyes. “ingrid has a pretty full schedule for us this week, but maybe we can have dinner tomorrow.”

“sure thing,” her dad said brightly, pausing by the couch on his way out the door to gently grasp her shoulder. “i’ll see you in the morning, then. hang in there, kid.”

ellie slumped back into the couch, watching him go blankly. half of her was so exhausted she couldn’t imagine doing anything other than collapsing into bed for as long as humanly possible, but the other half of her still felt anxious and unsettled, the way she always did whenever she had to come home.

being back in los angeles always felt like losing control of her life. there was something about being around her old friends and her dad and other people’s expectations that made her feel not like herself -- like some kind of persona she was putting on so everyone would perceive her a certain way.

so she could look like she had everything figured out, so everyone would keep saying you’ll pull through. you’ll figure it out. you’ll make it happen.

the thought of keeping it all up for an entire week of wedding activity with ingrid and their college friends was daunting. worse still was ingrid and logan’s engagement party on friday night, hanging over her head as the last obstacle between her and her flight home to the solace of her silent new york apartment, where she’d be able to analyze soil samples in peace until her mind was quiet again.

the week passed by in a blur. true to form, ingrid kept her busy for a majority of her waking moments with dress shopping, fittings, a trip to the venue, the florist and the bakery and, finally, last-minute preparations for friday’s engagement party, which left ellie tying ribbons around party favors late into the night on thursday.

“i could kill logan,” she complained to riya in the middle of the one free hour she’d been able to steal away for a mani-pedi, “i swear to god i’ve been playing the part of the fiance since i got back.”

“it’ll all be over soon,” riya hummed sympathetically, “the wedding will be here before you know it.”

as she dressed for the engagement party, she repeated the words to herself over and over again in the mirror. it’ll all be over soon.

she arrived at the venue early. the first person she saw after she stepped out of her rideshare was colt, who was loitering by the entrance to the restaurant, smoking.

“some dress,” he smirked at her as soon as she got close enough to hear him, not even bothering to pretend like he wasn’t looking her up and down, “you trying to get laid tonight?”

“you know, ‘hello’ works just fine, too,” she said, pushing past him without a backwards glance. her face felt hot as she considered the comment, looking down at herself self-consciously. fuck him. i look nice.

fortunately, the party itself was less exhausting than she’d expected it to be. it was actually sort of nice to catch up with people she hadn’t seen since they’d graduated, and though she had to run through the familiar talk track she was getting sick of over and over again -- how’s school? how’s new york? what are your plans for after your thesis? -- the open bar made her hate it all a little less.

eventually things started to wind down, until it was late and only the wedding party was left. ellie teetered in her heels as she pretended to help ingrid clean up, shuffling around as inconspicuously as she could manage, given the drinks she’d had.

“are you drunk?”

she jumped, startled by the question. ellie’s lips pulled down into a frown as she noticed the out-and-out delighted expression on colt’s smug face from where he was suddenly standing next to her.

“no,” she lied, “and shhh. someone will hear you.”

“god forbid.” the shit eating grin on his face stretched further. “you want a ride home?”

ellie blinked. “from you?”

colt wasn’t at all deterred by the high arch of her eyebrows. he shrugged. “if we get out of here now we can probably avoid carrying presents to the car.”

that was all it took to convince her. she followed him out to the parking lot with a laugh, drawing up short when he stopped her in front of his motorcycle. she propped a hand on her hip and asked, “you still ride this thing?”

“it’s part of my image,” he answered, and as he came closer ellie found herself staring at the gentle slope of the smirk on his face. maybe it was the low lighting of the parking lot, but he looked a little softer than he had all week -- almost like when she’d first met him, in college, before he opened his mouth to say something rude and their relationship devolved into exchanged barbs and sidelong glares.

colt cleared his throat, looking down at the helmet in his hands. “here.”

she flushed, pulling it on as quickly as possible in the hopes that it’d cover her face before he noticed.

in all the years she’d known him she’d never actually gotten on the back of this thing. she’d seen him pull up to parties and speed away from them with plenty of girls holding onto his stomach, but she’d never actually thought she’d be one of them herself.

the bottle of wine she’d had was making it seem like no big deal, though, so she pressed up snugly behind him and rested her cheek on his shoulder like they’d done this enough times to form a habit.

and then they were back at her dad’s house, so quickly that ellie was almost sad about it. colt was actually mostly alright when he was quiet -- the speed of the bike hardly facilitated conversation -- and he was warm and solid against her while he drove, comforting her to the point that she was half asleep when they finally stopped.

she slid off the bike with a yawn, clumsily yanking the helmet off and handing it back to him. “thanks,” she murmured, glancing at the house and cringing once she realized all the lights were still on, meaning her dad was waiting up for her again. ellie lingered silently beside him, fidgeting.

colt hesitated. after a moment, he killed the engine. he pulled his own helmet off so she could see his face. “you okay?”

“yeah.” she pursed her lips, then exhaled, blowing a messy lock of hair out of her eyes. “i guess i am a little drunk.”

his lips pulled back into that stupid, familiar smirk. “i know. i saw you guzzling chardonnays back there.”

ellie leaned in over the handlebars. “stalk me much?”

“you wish.”

movement in her peripheral vision caught her eye and ellie sighed as she saw the curtains shift. colt followed her gaze to the house, then turned back towards her with an eyebrow quirked.

“is there a reason you’re still standing here?”

she rolled her eyes at him. “it’s complicated.”

he laughed. it was after midnight, and the sleepy street she’d grown up on was completely silent and dark, save for that sound. “don’t tell me little miss perfect has daddy issues.”

“what, you thought you had the monopoly on them?” she shot back, too drunk to stop herself.

surprise flashed across his expression for a split second before he laughed again. “touché,” he murmured, “i probably deserved that.”

ellie still didn’t move, standing at the front of the bike. they stared at each other, silence hanging in the air between them. it had to be the longest amount of time they’d gone without arguing since their freshman year.

that felt like a lifetime ago, but she still remembered what she’d thought when they first met at orientation.

cute, and then, once she found out that he was in the honors college like her, and smart, and eventually, once he opened his mouth, but a jerk.

“what are you staring at?” he asked finally, and though he was difficult to read on even her best day, when she had one-hundred percent of her faculties intact, she was pretty sure there was no malice in his voice -- just genuine curiosity.

“nothing. you’re being weird.”

he laughed again. it took her a moment to realize why it sounded so different than it usually did; most of the time he was laughing at her. but not tonight. “no i’m not.”

“yes you are.”

“okay -- you’re trashed. do you need me to walk you inside?”

all the lights were still on. yeah, that was just what she needed. the thought of colt and her father coming face-to-face made her own mouth curve into a grin. “no. but thanks for driving me home. that was almost decent of you.”

“well, i’d hate to be fully decent.” even his smile was different when he wasn’t making fun of her.

ellie forced herself to take a step away, though it was difficult -- some strange magnetic pull seemed to want to keep her in his orbit, to see if she could maybe make him laugh softly at her again.

as soon as she stepped back, the bike roared to life, though he didn’t pull out of the street until she’d wobbled all the way up the path to the front door and turned back to wave at him.

huh, she thought to herself as she ducked inside, wine-drunk acid swirling in her stomach with something else unidentifiable along for the ride, weird.

it wasn’t until she was tucked in bed that she privately acknowledged to herself, nice, though, too.

as expected, ingrid filled the weeks after her spring break with questions and complaining and dozens of skype calls.

ellie did her best to balance it all with school, which was ramping up as they got closer to the end of term, and packing for her move to miami, though on any given day she felt torn in at least ten different directions while she struggled to get everything together.

the sound of another incoming facetime call was going to haunt her nightmares. with a groan, ellie fumbled for her phone blindly, not taking her eyes off the instant noodles slowly spinning in her microwave.

“what now?”

“hello to you, too,” said a voice that definitely wasn’t ingrid’s, and ellie turned her head to see colt staring at her expectantly from the screen of her phone, jolting both from the surprise of seeing him and the sound of the microwave going off.

“colt?” she blinked, suddenly aware that she was in her pajamas and tugging self-consciously at the cropped tank top she was wearing. “what do you want?”

“we have to go over some things for the bachelor party,” he sighed, and when he shifted she saw that he was reclining in bed. her face flushed.

“bachelor and bachelorette party,” she corrected.

“whatever. is now a good time?”

ellie cast a glance around her apartment, which looked like a tornado had recently swept through it. her kitchen table was covered in textbooks and pages of notes, though the living room had half-packed boxes covering every available surface. “i guess. one second.”

she set her phone down to retrieve her instant noodles and then leaned it up against her toaster, standing in front of the counter to both stay in her phone’s field of view and shovel noodles into her mouth as quickly as possible.

“seriously?” colt said, “isn’t it ten p.m. where you are?”

“i’ve been busy,” ellie answered defensively, between bites, “some of us have lives.”

he rolled his eyes. “did you book your flight yet?”

she paused, fork halfway to her lips. had she booked her flight yet? “i think so.” ellie pursed her lips, and then remembered, “yes! it gets in at seven. i’ll meet you guys at the hotel.”

“okay. the rest of us are driving down together, god help us all.” he scowled.

“relax. it’s only, like, four hours to vegas, anyway.” she was the one who was going to lose two entire days to travel and timezone changes.

“do you want to sit in a car for four hours with everyone?” he smirked at the look that crossed her face. “i didn’t think so. how are the dinner reservations coming along?”

“good,” she nodded. at least she’d remembered to do that. “we’re all set for friday and saturday night. we can walk to both restaurants from the hotel.”

colt had been adamant about planning everything else, and she’d been all too happy to let him take the reigns. the last thing she needed to worry about was getting them into nightclubs and securing bottle service and busting her ass only for him to ultimately turn his nose up at it and declare the whole thing lame.

“that should be everything, then.” she just barely saw the way he narrowed his eyes at her when she tipped her head back to get the last of the styrofoam cup of noodles down her throat. “except for whatever girly shit you have planned.”

“hey, you’re going to have to be the one to tell logan that your bad attitude is what got all of you excluded from mani-pedis and facials,” she shrugged, resting her elbows on the counter and leaning in toward the screen. “just so you can do what on saturday? smoke cigars and play darts?”

“someone has to draw the line somewhere,” he said, revisiting the argument they’d had at least four or five times since she was home the month before.

“you’re impossible,” she sighed, her mouth stretching with a wide yawn. ellie pulled a face at herself, shaking her head. she had at least another two hours of coursework to do once they hung up.

“you’re the one who looks about ten seconds away from combusting,” he smirked. “you can say no to things, you know.”

“i’m fine,” she insisted, “and i do say ‘no’ to things. when i have to.”

“right. it’s not like we haven’t known each other for eight years or anything.”

ellie rolled her eyes at him, her cheeks still flushed red. like he’d paid attention to anyone other than himself and whatever girl he was fucking when they were in college. “everything’ll calm down after the wedding.”

“whatever you say,” he shrugged, “just don’t miss your flight to vegas, okay? i’m going to need someone to talk to who doesn’t make me want to blow my brains out.”

what? colt hung up just as she opened her mouth to respond, leaving ellie staring at her phone background in confusion.

she took one last glance around her apartment, slowly trailing her eyes over the dishes in the sink, the schoolwork on her kitchen table, the piles of shoes that had to be bubble-wrapped and boxed up in her living room.

then ellie turned on her heel and headed off to bed. for once, it felt pretty fucking good to do the wrong thing.

when her flight got in she sent logan a long, detailed text with all the information he could possibly need -- what time her rideshare was going to get to the hotel and how much time she was going to need to get up to the room and get changed -- and asked where she should meet everyone when she was done.

his response was two short words. casino. craps. typical.

she rushed to get into her dress and get some makeup on and found everyone standing around the same table when she got downstairs. of course, the only available space was just to colt’s left. ellie squeezed in with a grin. “hi!”

“hey, you made it!” eager cheers from around the table greeted her and the tight hugs she was forced into let her know that she had a backlog a few drinks deep to catch up on.

when she turned back around, colt shoved his hand in her face. there was a pair of dice sitting in his palm. “blow,” he said, staring at her expectantly.

“excuse me?”

“blow,” he repeated, smirking at her, “it’s for luck.”

“i’m not going to --”

“come on, ellie,” logan grinned, “he’s up, like, two thousand dollars. you have to!”

“this is so demeaning,” she grumbled, but pursed her lips and blew on the dice as requested. colt stared at her the entire time, not even breaking eye contact to roll.

it was only when the croupier said, “another easy eight,” and the table broke out into cheers that he looked away, directing his gaze down at the stack of chips that was pushed over to him.

“okay, what’s the next one?” he asked, taking the dice into his hand again.

“huh?”

“what am i rolling?”

“oh.” ellie glanced around the table and found everyone looking at her expectantly. “seven.”

“okay, any seven.” colt shook the dice in his hand, then held them out to her again. “come on.”

she leaned in a little closer. “you know, i’d love a drink at some point.”

“if we get this one i’ll find you a whole bottle of dom,” he promised. “blow.”

ellie blew on the dice. she grabbed colt’s arm anxiously as they waited for them to land.

they did, a moment later. she craned her neck and saw them facing up, over the line -- five and two.

all the noise they were making was starting to draw a crowd. ellie found herself sharing a grin with colt when he looked back at her again.

“another seven,” she instructed, head already bowed towards his hand.

he rolled a three and a four. the people gathering around the table were enraptured.

she blew on the dice again. a one and a six.

the forearm of his jacket had indents where her hand kept grabbing at it frantically, but colt never showed any outward signs of nervousness. if anything, he seemed to get more and more excited as ellie called out the numbers and he rolled them, one after another -- an eight. a six. a ten. another seven.

“holy shit, that’s twenty thousand dollars,” ingrid breathed finally, her mouth open in shock.

colt picked the stack of chips up, nodding at the roulette table behind them. “come on.”

“where are we going?” ellie asked, but followed him to the table anyway, her heart racing. all of their friends fell in line around them, hushed.

“we’re gonna double it,” he smirked. “red or black?”

“you’re going to bet it all?” her eyes went comically wide.

“ellie, red or black?”

everyone within hearing distance, including the attendant, was staring at her. she looked down at the table, and then at the screen, which was displaying the outcome of the last few rounds. her mind raced as she tried to calculate all the ways it could become more complex than just a fifty-fifty probability.

colt noticed her staring and shook his head at her. “just pick.”

“black,” she blurted out, and watched in horror as he dropped the entire stack of chips down onto her choice. “oh my god, i’m going to throw up.”

his arm wound around her waist as the ball dropped into the table and started to roll around. instead of recoiling, ellie held onto him in return, digging her nails into the fabric of his suit as she stared.

there was dead silence at the table when the ball dropped neatly into the slot.

“twenty-nine,” the dealer announced, smiling at the both of them. “black.”

sound exploded all around them. their friends were jumping all over colt and the table, clapping him on the back, cheering and screaming. the spectators who’d been watching them joined in, and ellie couldn’t stop a deliriously joyful laugh from escaping as she looked, beaming, from the stack of chips on the table to colt’s face.

he was already grinning at her, and reached out to shove her shoulder excitedly before pulling the chips off the board and towards their end of the table -- four stacks of ten.

logan pushed between them, a beer bottle dangling from his fingers. “jesus christ. that was insane. way to make an entrance, el.”

“me?” she demanded incredulously, “what kind of person puts twenty thousand dollars on black?”

“what can i say,” colt shrugged, eyes still bright when they settled on her again, “i’m reckless.”

well, that was the understatement of the century. she slowly shook her head as the rest of the players at the table moved on to the next round. “i can’t believe that just happened.”

colt reached out and grabbed her wrist, then unceremoniously dropped five chips into her palm. “here. your cut.”

ellie blinked down at her hand like she’d never seen a casino chip before. “five thousand dollars?”

“hey, all you did was blow on some dice.”

“no, i --” she shook her head, trying to shove the chips back onto his pile with a laugh, “you don’t need to do that. it was fun.”

he shrugged. ellie watched in surprise as colt smiled at her, fixated on the upturned corners of his mouth. “whatever. remember i did the next time you’re pissed at me.”

colt walked off before she could try giving the money back to him again. she stared down at the chips in her hand for a moment, staring at all the zeroes that looked back up at her.

if what had just happened was any indication, it was probably going to be a strange weekend.

after dinner they went to a nightclub. her buzz was kicking in, so the lights and the music hardly bothered her as much as they might have on a normal night, and though she was loathe to admit it, colt had actually done a pretty nice job setting everything up. they had a booth to themselves and bottle service with sparklers, themed shots and props for both logan and ingrid -- sashes and buttons and crowns for the both of them.

seeing how happy everyone was made all the aggravation of the last six weeks worth it. before she knew it, she’d had more shots than was probably wise and her feet were killing her from dancing, leaving her flushed and sweaty when she stumbled back to the table.

as soon as she sat down, ingrid rushed over and grabbed her arm. “come on! i want to introduce you to a hot guy!”

“no,” ellie moaned, digging her heels into the booth while ingrid tried to drag her out of it, “stop, we’ve been dancing for hours. i need five minutes.”

“okay, but he’s so hot,” ingrid insisted, “and you could get laid tonight!”

“or we could just enjoy your bachelorette party!” she screamed back, over the music, “that’d be so fun, too.”

“oh my god, you’re impossible,” ingrid sighed, dropping down dramatically into the booth beside her. "look, he’s right over there.”

ellie followed the line of her eyes and saw an admittedly very hot guy standing with a few of their friends. she lifted her hand and waved at him, and he smiled charmingly back at her, waving in return.

from behind her hand, when she pulled it in to cover her mouth, ellie said to ingrid, “he looks kind of stupid.”

“oh my god,” ingrid groaned again, “forget it. i’m done trying to set you up.”

before she could argue further, logan ran over to refill his drink and pulled ingrid back up to her feet, dragging her away from the booth and back onto the dance floor.

ellie watched them go, then turned her eyes to the half-full bottle of vodka in the ice bucket on the table. she was in the middle of trying to decide whether or not she was one drink away from puking when colt walked up to her.

“hey, loser. you wanna dance?” he asked, just as she made up her mind and reached for the bottle. he wasn’t loud enough to be heard over the music, but ellie could see the shape of his mouth make each word clearly, mostly because she tilted her head up to stare at him in complete confusion as soon as he got close.

“with you?”

“i thought you were supposed to be smart,” he said, and she recognized the easy grin on his face from dozens of late nights out with all their friends in college; he was drunk. “come on.”

she stumbled to her feet and followed him without thinking too much about it, even though there was no way their friends weren’t looking at them as they found a spot on the dance floor together.

“you know how to dance?” ellie asked, blinking down at colt’s hands, which settled confidently on her waist, in absolute, total surprise, “since when?”

“since always,” he answered, lowering his mouth to her ear, “you just repress all my positive traits.”

“you don’t have any positive traits,” she shot back, though she gave in and wound her arms around his neck a moment later, letting him pull her in close.

“ouch,” colt murmured softly into her ear, and ellie sunk her teeth into her bottom lip at the low tone of his voice and its proximity. “that really hurts.”

her head tipped back to stare up at the flashing lights in the ceiling. colt didn’t say anything -- of course, he loved to get the last word -- and after a moment she forgot how utterly strange it was to be close to him at all and let herself enjoy the dance, smoothly moving her hips against his.

it was unnatural how natural it felt. she was dancing with colt kaneko -- it should have felt insane. they didn’t dance together. they didn’t get along.

except that evidently they did, and she kind of liked it, too.

when he dragged everyone out of the nightclub at three o’clock in the morning he wouldn’t tell them where they were going. even ellie was surprised to hear about a planned part two of the evening, though the way he seamlessly swiped a bottle of dom perignon from a table they passed on their way to the door and presented it to her as soon as they stepped back into the lobby of the hotel made her laugh with her whole body.

“you didn’t even pay for it,” she grinned, cradling it in her arms like a baby.

he looked around, then started leading everyone down a side hallway. “i never said i would. hang on.”

logan caught on as soon as they all stopped in front of the fancy glass doors marked pool, and ellie kept watch at the end of the hallway while the two of them worked to get the door open. one by one, their friends filed quietly inside to the hotel’s closed indoor pool, giggling while they stripped out of their clothes.

“this feels illegal,” ellie said, while ingrid helpfully lowered the zip on her dress for her, “no?”

“it’s only a crime if you get caught,” logan answered, running past and jumping in the pool directly in front of where they were standing at its edge, splashing them both.

“oh, you’re in for it,” ingrid promised, jumping off after him.

ellie self-consciously pulled her dress off the rest of the way, walking over to the steps and wading into the shallow end carefully. she swam out to join the rest of the group, head spinning from the drinks she’d had.

“hey.”

she turned around and came face-to-face with colt again, staring at what she could see of his bare chest, sticking out of the dark water before averting her eyes with a flush. “we’re totally all going to jail,” she said, apropos of nothing.

“that’s the plan,” colt returned, still smiling that easy, open smile. but he’d always been a lot more fun to hang out with when he was drunk.

“why’re you being so nice to me?” ellie asked abruptly, reaching out to hold onto the pool wall and treading water to stay afloat in front of him. “it’s weird.”

colt laughed. his own arm braced on the side of the pool beside hers, and she looked over at the way the water slid of his muscles, her mouth suddenly dry.

“guess i like the reactions i get,” he answered, effortlessly short-circuiting her brain as she tried to figure out what the fuck that was supposed to mean. “plus, it looks like you’re my good luck charm.”

“that was pretty crazy,” she acknowledged with a soft smile of her own, “i’ve never done anything like that before.” in fact, it’d been almost more excitement than she could handle.

“there’s so much i could show you.”

the look in his eyes was intense -- searching. she wasn’t sure what to say, but fortunately the noise from the rest of their friends splashing around covered the too-loud pounding of her heartbeat as he stood there staring down at her.

it was the most alive she’d felt in months. before tonight, she hadn’t even thought she’d want a break from her routine -- from school, from her work, from everything that made her her.

wading in the pool now, with colt, all she wanted was more.

before she could find something to say, logan and brent swam by, kicking up water with a splash. “come on!” logan called out as a wave of chlorinated water hit her smack dab in the face, “we’re doing back flips.”

she forced her eyes down and swam off after them, hurrying to put some space between them.

drunk as she was, it was a struggle to even stay afloat.

the semester wrapped up quickly; before she knew it, it was time to start shipping her things down to miami. ellie saw and heard from everyone less and less as she finished her coursework and switched into summer mode, even as the date of logan’s wedding grew closer.

finally it was time to hand her keys over to the girl who’d be subletting her apartment for the summer and catch her flight; when she stepped off the plane she forgot, for a moment, that she wasn’t home in los angeles -- it was humid and sunny and everyone around her looked happy, a far cry from the scene she’d left behind at jfk.

ellie went straight to her summer housing and checked in, a little astonished by how nice the apartment was. there was a pool in the back of the building and the beach was only a short walk away; there were floor-to-ceiling windows exposing the view to her and illuminating every last one of the boxes she’d have to unpack where they were cluttering her new living room floor.

her eyes landed on one marked kitchen stuff and ellie tore into it, using her keys to rip the tape. the still-sealed bottle of dom perignon from the bachelorette party was sitting on top of everything else, wrapped in bubble wrap.

the trip or the heat had probably made it go flat but she pulled it out anyway, sitting on the floor and popping the cork. ellie took a sip from the bottle and grimaced -- all expensive alcohol was disgusting.

she set it on the floor and took a photo for her pictagram story anyway, the boxes and the view in the background. it was only up for a few seconds before her phone screen lit up with an incoming message.

it was colt. dork was all he’d written, when she opened her direct messages. the little animation beneath his words indicated he was typing something else. how is it?

pretty bad she wrote back honestly.

guess i’ll have to work harder to impress you

she stared down at her phone, rereading the words twice before she huffed out a genuine laugh. ellie had been avoiding checking in with most of her friends while she focused on moving, but it felt pretty nice to talk to colt again. the new peace that had settled between them had admittedly been a welcome respite, distracting her from every stressor in her life.

with a shake of her head, she gave in and wrote back guess so.

everyone in the wedding was spending the entire weekend in santa monica, and ellie was grateful for the opportunity to avoid awkward conversation with her dad, heading straight to the hotel when she flew in on the morning of the rehearsal dinner.

things were already in full swing even though it was early in the day when she arrived; though she was exhausted from her flight and the work she’d left behind on the east coast ellie still let ingrid pull her up to her suite to start getting ready together.

one by one the rest of their friends started to trickle in, chatting excitedly about the wedding the next day, and eventually, after they’d gone over saturday’s schedule at least a thousand times, it was late enough in the afternoon that she had to go back to her own hotel room to get dressed for dinner.

ellie was the first of the girls to finish getting ready and logan and the rest of the guys were already downstairs at the lobby bar when she came out of the elevator. logan pulled her into a hug as soon as she got close, kissing her cheek hello.

“are you so excited?” she asked, squeezing his arms, “big day tomorrow.”

“i can’t wait. i know we did this fast but it still feels like we’ve been waiting for forever.” he looked adorably eager. “you look nice, by the way.”

“thank you,” ellie said primly, stepping out of his arms to spin in a circle, the skirt of her dress swishing around the tops of her thighs, “not half bad for an all-nighter and a cross-country flight, eh?”

“thanks for flying out so early. i’m so glad you’re here.” logan called the bartender over as she moved down the line to say hi to the rest of the groomsmen, and when she came back around to his other side to accept the drink he held out to her she noticed there was one person missing from the group.

“where’s colt?”

logan arched an eyebrow at her. her face flushed pink, and then worsened when that voice she could pick out of a crowd said from behind her, “miss me?”

the smart remark that was waiting on the tip of her tongue died when she turned around and saw him. he always wore formalwear well, but something about how he was dressed tonight captured her attention in a way that was impossible to ignore. she swallowed.

“just wondering if tonight might actually be peaceful or not,” she said finally, lifting her eyes from the few buttons that were open on his shirt at the front of his throat to look him in the eyes. “i guess it won’t be.”

he shrugged, leaning around her to signal the bartender for a drink of his own. “i promised i’d behave this weekend.”

“yeah, and you’d better follow through or ingrid’s going to come after us both,” logan grinned, waiting until colt had his glass in his hand before sticking his own in between the three of them. “cheers.”

“cheers,” ellie smiled, clinking her champagne flute delicately against the two rocks glasses in their hands, “congratulations. i’m so happy for you guys.”

“you can back out at any time,” colt said, and then, as ingrid finally walked over and hit him on the shoulder, “ow. what? you can back out, too.”

she linked her arm through logan’s, tilting her face up for a kiss. “no one’s backing out. come on.”

they filed into the restaurant, where everyone’s families were already waiting at one end of the long table. ellie sat down on ingrid’s right and came face-to-face with colt, who was sitting directly across from her at logan’s left. he smirked at her from the other side of the table, bumping his foot into hers underneath the tablecloth.

she kicked him back, turning her cheek to stifle a smile when she saw him wince as soon as her high heel collided with his shin.

dinner was surprisingly pleasant, making her cautiously optimistic for the way the rest of the weekend was going to go. tomorrow was sure to be exhausting, with a full day of primping and photos before the ceremony and reception, and the after party following late into the night, if she knew their group of friends at all.

but it’d probably be pretty fun, too. at least she could start drinking heavily as soon as her toast was over.

though she was woefully sober after the cake had been cut and the night started to wind down, certain that a hangover would be a wrench in tomorrow morning she just didn’t need, with the day ahead of her.

they all took their time saying goodbye and slowly started to head to the elevator. just outside the restaurant door, colt caught her elbow and asked, “wanna go for a walk?”

she stared back at him dumbly. why? “huh?”

“come on, the beach is right there.” his hand slid down her bare arm to curl around her wrist, and he tugged her towards the french doors that would lead them outside onto the hotel’s back patio before she could protest.

ellie slipped off her shoes as they moved down the steps and out into the sand, silent when they both walked off down the beach together. the stretch owned by the hotel was private and closed for the night, so they were the only two people making their way down to the ocean, though she still wasn’t exactly sure for what.

“how’ve you been?” she asked finally, when it felt like it’d been quiet for too long.

“fine. how are your... water samples?”

her eyebrows arched. part of her was amazed he’d remembered, and a little warmed by his thoughtfulness. “um, good,” she answered slowly, “well -- not good, they’re contaminated, but... good for me? to have something to study?”

out of the corner of her eye, ellie saw his lips twitch. it was good to know he still found her embarrassment amusing. “that’s good.”

“are you nervous for your speech tomorrow?” she asked, because she was certainly nervous about hers. his smile spread.

“no.” he’d long since let go of her arm, but colt still only shoved the hand on the other side of his body into his pocket, letting his other arm dangle near hers. “i’m just gonna wing it.”

“you’re going to -- i’m sorry, what?” she demanded, completely horrified. “you cannot just wing it.”

“well, i’m going to,” he shrugged, “so don’t lose sleep over it.”

“oh my god,” ellie groaned, “i feel sick just thinking about it. please tell me you’re joking.”

“you know i’m not,” he laughed, that same soft sound from the night of logan and ingrid’s engagement party, when he’d given her a ride home. her cheeks flushed just thinking about it. “don’t you ever get tired of being so self-righteous?”

“no,” she sniffed, “don’t you ever get tired of being so...”

ellie trailed off as she searched for the right word. colt stopped suddenly and turned in the sand to face her, grinning widely when their eyes locked. “so what?”

arrogant. smug. obnoxious. insufferable. reckless. “so...” she paused, tongue darting out to lick her lips, “well --”

colt leaned in and kissed her before she could decide which word she wanted to settle on. the hand that’d been in his pocket landed on her waist, and he lifted the other to her jaw, cradling her cheek in his palm when he pulled her closer to meet his lips.

she froze. part of her had been expecting this, though it still felt so unbelievably beyond imagining -- colt kaneko was kissing her after they’d spent the last eight years at each other’s throats, and tenderly, too, his lips soft and gentle when they brushed against hers.

ellie sighed quietly into his mouth, then looped her arm around him and kissed him back, sliding her fingers into his hair at the back of his head.

he was a good kisser. not that she’d thought about it, or anything, outside of one or two times --

fine, a few times...

colt snaked his arm fully around her waist and pressed his body in against hers as close as they could get; there was only the sound of the waves on the shore while they kissed for what felt like an eternity, with all the familiarity of two people who’d done this dozens of times before.

there was something about being alone with him that eased the tension being home always brought with it. something about the new calmness in their relationship reminded her of her apartment and new york and the places she’d always felt most like herself, almost like colt understood her and the things she wanted to say but wouldn’t without her even having to say them.

finally, his thumb pressed into the hinge of her jaw and he broke them apart, tipping his forehead against hers to stare into her eyes.

in the dark, with the moon behind him, the depths of his gaze consumed her entirely. ellie worked to catch her breath while staring back at him seriously, though there was surely some shock on her expression.

“um,” she said finally. “i --”

he swept her into another kiss and she was grateful for the chance to collect her thoughts before being expected to say something, though every last one she had left her abruptly when their lips met again. all she could focus on was how good the kiss was -- how it felt like giving into something she’d been holding off on allowing for far too long.

this time, when he pushed her away, he spoke up. “do you want me to apologize?”

ellie realized her fingers were still curled into his hair and forced them to relax. she dropped her hand onto his shoulder. “no.” her eyes lingered on the minute upturn at the corners of his mouth. “an explanation would be helpful, though.”

the hand colt had on the small of her back dipped lower. she raised her eyebrows at him again. “i want to spend the night with you,” he said bluntly, “if you want.”

she pretended to think about it, even though she already knew what her answer would be. judging by the look on colt’s face, he knew she was only acting, too, though he stayed quiet for once and let her go through the motions of looking back at the hotel in thoughtful consideration. “yeah,” she said finally, with a nod, “let’s go to your room.”

colt’s room was on the other side of the hotel, and he’d forgotten to pull the heavy-duty shades shut the night before, so the sun filtered in through the gauzy curtains and hit her in the face early, waking her up before she was ready.

ellie rubbed at her eyes and took in the sight before her: the muscled arm slung across her waist was attached to a set of broad shoulders and a sculpted torso, though colt was sleeping on his stomach so she could only see his back, the sheet draped low over his hips.

his face was squished into the pillow and he was still peacefully asleep, his breathing even and quiet beside her.

she stared at him for a few seconds before a deep sense of dread started to set in, filling her with slowly dawning horror.

you slept with colt kaneko! her brain screamed unhelpfully at her, like she didn’t already know. what the fuck were you thinking?

okay. this was fixable. all she had to do was get to her clothes and get out of his room before he woke up. she could make it back to her suite before anyone noticed she was gone, right?

his body stirred beside her as soon as she shifted to the edge of the mattress. ellie watched colt’s arm slip off her waist and stared as his eyes slowly blinked open, his jaw cracking with a yawn. “hey,” he murmured, voice thick with sleep and perfectly cozy-sounding, halting her progress out of the bed and almost enough to make her turn right back around. “what time is it?”

“seven,” she returned just as quietly, and he flopped back against the pillow with a groan, scrubbing a hand down his face.

“the fuck are you doing up?” he grumbled. “christ.”

ellie shifted another inch to the edge of the bed. “we need to all start getting ready soon. pictures are at two.”

“it’s seven,” he sighed, “she can’t possibly expect you to --”

“she does.”

colt groaned again, louder this time. he rolled onto his back and pressed both palms against his face, then pushed his hands through his hair. “we’ll get up in ten minutes,” he declared decisively, dropping his cheek into the side of the pillow. his eyes were half-lidded when they landed on her. “come here.”

ellie hesitated at the edge of the bed, biting her lip.

that was probably a mistake.

she cleared her throat, averting her eyes. maybe all of this had been a mistake. it was so unlike her -- flirting with him, kissing him on the beach, having a one night stand. he’d never even liked her before she started doing all of these things that felt so wildly out of character for her. in fact, he’d always hated her.

what the fuck did he think they were doing, anyway?

panic was starting to set in, hot and desperate. “i should really get going,” she said, then stood and snatched her dress up off the floor before she could be sucked in by the curve of him against the mattress. “ingrid’s going to wonder where i am.”

there was complete and total silence as she pulled her clothes back on quickly, piece by piece. finally, colt said, “okay. i’ll see you later.”

his voice was slow -- carefully measured. ellie didn’t look at him before double checking to make sure she had her phone and room key and nodding blindly in the direction of the bed, doing her best to keep her voice faux-chipper. “totally,” she called out mindlessly, rushing out the door.

her chest squeezed tight with anxiety and refused to relent for the entirety of the morning. ellie found herself fighting off a meltdown through hair and makeup, through hours of gushing over ingrid and how beautiful she looked, through a session with the photographer in the bridal suite.

her thoughts were elsewhere during the group photos with everyone. it took every effort not to look colt’s way when they all got together before the ceremony to take so many pictures her face was hurting from maintaining her fake smile.

still, her mind drifted. the part of her that was adamant she’d made the right decision couldn’t seem to quiet the little voice beneath it wondering what if, her curiosity needling her brain incessantly.

now she’d never know what he might’ve been about to say or do. she wouldn’t have to deal with the reality of having two pieces of her life that didn’t fit together -- new york and school and los angeles and colt -- because there was no knowing if anything would’ve even come from it.

maybe that’s for the best, said the larger, more rational part of her brain.

all the excuses she’d used a thousand times before came back to her at once. she was too busy to date, probably, and ill-equipped to have a boyfriend. guys she’d dated in the past had complained about her being hot and cold, either clingy or distant depending on where she was with school or in her professional life. the only parts of herself she could actually tolerate most of the time seemed to be the biggest turn-offs: she was too driven, too focused on her passion projects.

each word felt hollow, now. maybe she hadn’t done the right thing.

ellie’s pulse raced dangerously as everyone lined up at the edge of the cliff for the outdoor ceremony. she and colt stood just behind logan, side-by-side.

he wasn’t looking at her. her stomach twisted unhappily.

she gently reached out to touch his arm. her voice was barely a murmur when she leaned in close and said, “hey, can i talk to you?”

colt looked down at her like she was insane. in front of them, logan started down the aisle. “now’s not really a good time.”

fuck. she was almost definitely going to lose her nerve, but he was right. she pursed her lips, looping her arm through his. her free hand clutched her flowers tightly.

colt felt stiff beside her, at odds with the easy way he’d held her last night. she used all her focus not to trip as they walked down the aisle together and then separated on either side of the altar, the both of them looking anywhere else but at each other.

fortunately, the ceremony provided a welcome distraction from her swirling thoughts. logan and ingrid had written their own vows, and she cried the entire time they spoke to each other, tears silently dripping down her cheeks as she watched two of her oldest friends profess their love.

even the poem ingrid’s sister read made her heart skip a beat, her bottom lip wobbling through the ceremony until the officiant finally pronounced them husband and wife.

ellie was still smiling through tears after they’d kissed and started back down the aisle together. she forgot to be nervous about walking with colt until he took her arm in his and said, “seriously?”

then everything that had happened rushed back to her at once, and she was uneasy and miserable again.

“come on,” ellie sniffed, dabbing delicately at her eyes, “that was beautiful.”

“it was something,” he mumbled, so quietly the excited din of the crowd nearly drowned him out. “i’ll catch up with you later.”

he dropped her arm as soon as he possibly could, disappearing into the venue. ellie watched everyone through the glass windows for a moment before following him inside with a sigh.

bathroom, then bar. even if the first thing she needed was a large glass of wine, the absolute last thing she needed was smudged mascara. everything else could wait.

it was almost the end of the cocktail hour when logan found her at the bar. ellie grinned at him wholeheartedly and passed him the champagne flute she’d taken for herself, signaling for another.

“thanks,” he said, reaching out to squeeze her arm, “like, a thousand people have already tried talking to me. you never told me this was going to be so exhausting.”

“getting married is a huge deal,” ellie laughed, “of course every single person here wants to talk to you. you’re going to be making the rounds all night.”

“just -- keep me occupied for a few more minutes,” he said, gaze darting around the room, “make it look like we’re having a really serious talk. start with whatever put that look on your face.”

“i don’t have a look on my face,” she argued, though she knew it was futile.

logan arched his eyebrows at her. “ellie.”

“what?” she asked. she shuffled her feet anxiously and then continued, “look, i’m sure colt already told you we slept together last night, so --”

logan started coughing, spitting champagne back into his glass. he set it down on the bar with wide eyes. “oh my god, you what?”

ellie felt her own eyes bug out to match. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no,” logan hissed, then coughed again. “what do you mean you slept together last night?”

“um,” ellie started, her voice high as she swiveled her eyes to the ceiling, “well...”

“jesus, i can’t believe he finally went for it.”

she slowly lowered her gaze back to his. her brow furrowed in confusion. “what?”

“oh, man. he’s liked you for forever. i didn’t think he was ever going to...” logan trailed off as he caught sight of the expression on her face, which cycled from confusion to realization to horror so quickly it made her head spin. “wait, how’d you guys leave it?”

“um,” she said again, cringing, “well...”

“yikes.” logan matched her look with a wince. “you should probably talk to him.”

she wandered into the ballroom as if in a daze. ellie found her seat at the table with the bridal party and breathed a sigh of relief once she noticed colt was far away from her at the other end -- at least ingrid had done her one favor.

after the toast, she told herself with a nod, i’ll talk to him.

after the toast she could have the hard drink she’d need to get through the conversation. they could take a few minutes to themselves.

but first she had to actually get through the toast, and that meant sitting politely while colt gave the best man speech, which he did unflappably well, of course, even though he hadn’t prepared for it at all.

ellie was reminded all at once what’d made her hate him in the first place: colt was good at everything without having to worry about it. in college, he’d effortlessly pulled perfect grades in even the most impossible classes; tonight was no different. he made jokes that landed perfectly with the crowd, getting the appropriate amount of laughs, and finished with something surprisingly sentimental that garnered lots of applause -- both ingrid and logan beamed at him when he sat down again.

and she had to go next.

she pointedly ignored him as she stood with her glass. “hey, everyone. i’m ellie. for those of you who don’t know me, ingrid and i met on the very first day of college -- eight years ago. i’d just turned eighteen and i was away from home for the first time. i actually bumped into ingrid in the parking lot...”

ellie hit all the marks, too: what she loved about her friends, what made them perfect for each other. “-- and i knew he was the one just from the way she’d talk about him. she always got so giddy, it was like there was a whole other side of her i’d never seen before. every day she’d have something new to say about him: ‘oh, logan said this,’ and, ‘oh, logan showed me that’ --”

everyone was crying by the time she wrapped up. ingrid blew her a kiss as she lifted her glass into the air, and ellie grinned brightly back at her and logan before the band came back on and she could finally sit down again.

the girls around her were gushing about how good her toast had been, but ellie leaned around them to catch colt’s eye at the other end of the table.

her eyebrows lifted meaningfully. she nodded at the dance floor.

colt rolled his eyes. she watched him shake his head.

ellie thrust her bottom lip out into a pout.

he looked sort of close to smiling, setting a swarm of butterflies loose in her stomach. it was both better and more dangerous than the thought of him being angry at her had been. later, he mouthed, turning away before she could frown at him any harder.

that was fine. it’d give her a little more time to work up her nerve -- hopefully.

she grabbed ingrid on her way back to the bar.

“oh my god, i can’t believe you,” ingrid sighed, squeezing her tight in a huge hug, “that was only the most beautiful toast of all time. you ruined my makeup, you bitch!”

“okay, you still look perfect,” ellie argued, squeezing her hand, “you’re the most beautiful bride ever. don’t even start.”

ingrid sighed wistfully, looking off towards the sweetheart table at the front of the ballroom. “i am pretty beautiful, huh?”

“are you kidding?” ellie demanded, “the whole thing was gorgeous.”

ingrid’s grin sharpened. out of nowhere, she said, “logan told me you totally fucked colt last night.”

“shhhh!” ellie cast a glance around desperately, but they were blessedly alone at the bar. “oh my god, i didn’t --”

“yeah, right. why didn’t you tell me?!”

“it’s your wedding day,” she laughed, “i wanted to -- i don’t know. it just happened, it was weird.”

“what’s he like?” she asked, passing ellie a glass of champagne.

“can we not do this?” ellie ducked her head behind the glass, trying to hide her flushed face. “isn’t it time for your first dance?”

ingrid waved her hand dismissively. “in a minute. so? spill!”

“oh my god, it was obviously incredible,” she mumbled into her champagne, “now get out of my face, this is exactly why i didn’t tell you.”

“fine, but we are so not done talking about this.” she reached out and tugged on one of the neat curls of her hair before linking her arm through ellie’s to walk back to the front of the ballroom together. “and you’d better save me a dance.”

she didn’t get her moment alone with colt until after the entrees. ellie had given up on trying to catch his eye, so she was surprised when he walked over and said, “i’ll take that dance, now, if you can stop crying long enough to make it happen.”

“people with souls cry at weddings,” she huffed, standing and taking his hand in hers, “i’m sorry you can’t relate.”

“you’re forgiven,” he smirked, so that she could almost pretend there was absolutely nothing weird going on between them as they walked out onto the dance floor.

but his expression shifted when the song changed and her hands laced together behind his neck, absolving her of that illusion near-immediately. she cleared her throat as his hands settled on her hips and they started to sway together.

“i’m sorry,” she said again, more seriously this time.

he pursed his lips, then shrugged. “for what?”

“for being weird this morning. i don’t know what you were going to say -- um, if you were going to say anything, but i totally freaked out and i obviously didn’t even give you a chance to get to it, so. that was uncool. sorry.”

colt’s gaze was calculating on hers. she wondered what he was thinking. “don’t worry about it,” he said finally. “it’s nothing.”

she drew in a deep breath. well, if he wasn’t going to give her an inch... “logan said you’ve always liked me.”

ellie watched as his eyes narrowed. “logan’s lucky today’s his wedding day,” colt murmured darkly. his hands tightened on her hips briefly, then released. he turned his head and leveled his glare on her. “so?”

“so -- i thought you hated me,” she laughed, that thread of nervousness back again. “you never -- i mean, why didn’t you ever say anything?”

he rolled his eyes at her. “okay, you’re always, like -- smiling and happy and constantly surrounded by people. when we were in school you were in, like, student government and on debate team and running a thousand clubs or doing extra lab hours and everyone always liked you -- so you wanted me to, what, exactly? just walk right up to you and be like, hey, do you want to see a movie?”

ellie gaped at him, her mouth open in shock. “i -- yes! you could have just asked me out.”

“right,” colt snorted, “that would’ve gone over well. you thought i was a total asshole.”

“colt, you were a total asshole,” she reminded him.

he shifted back and forth on his feet. ellie stared in fascination as the tips of his ears went red when he dipped his head to avert his eyes. “i didn’t want you think i had a crush on you or anything.”

it felt a lot like she was having an out-of-body experience. “well... did you have a crush on me?”

colt cleared his throat. “you weren’t like everyone else,” he said, in lieu of an answer, “you’re still not. but i get that you’re busy. this doesn’t have to be, like, a thing.”

“hang on, i’m still processing.” whatever this was, it was officially bizarre.

it seemed impossible to wrap her head around what he’d just admitted: that he’d always liked her, even at her most neurotic, at the most school-obsessed, five-year-plan focused she’d ever been.

so she didn’t have to change.

for once, it didn’t feel like she needed to put up some front that was, frankly, exhausting to maintain.

everything just felt -- nice.

“done yet?” he demanded, “the song’s almost over.”

ellie leaned in and kissed him, uncaring of anyone who might see. his hands were warm over the cutouts in the dress at her sides and she was breathless when they finally broke apart, long after the song had changed.

the look on colt’s face was a mixture of self-satisfied and surprised when he pulled her off the dance floor and out onto the terrace. “i am busy,” ellie said, once they were alone.

colt nodded, looking out at the view of the beach below them. “i know.”

“but -- if you really don’t mind that i have to split my focus with school... and the distance... and the time difference...”

“are you trying to talk me out of it?” he asked, sounding amused.

“...then obviously i’d love to date you or whatever.”

“huh.” colt was smiling as he stared at the ocean. “i guess i probably should have just asked out you five years ago, then.”

“it might’ve been easier,” ellie allowed, shifting to lean her shoulder against his. she reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “but that’s not really our style.”

colt turned and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “true,” he hummed, and then, “you smell like you have a whole can of hairspray in your hair.”

“i probably do.” she hesitated, looking down at their joined hands. “are you sure you want to do this?”

“yeah.” ellie looked back up at him and found colt’s eyes still stuck thoughtfully on the view. “i’ve wanted to for a really long time.”

“that’s so crazy to me.”

“why?” he finally turned and looked at her, his gaze no less intense than it had been last night by the ocean. “ingrid’s right. you are a catch. it’s crazy to me that you’ve stayed single all this time.”

“well, i was --” she bit the inside of her cheek to avoid again using the word busy, and then pivoted to a more uncomfortably honest answer, “-- never interested in compromising. before now.”

his lips spread into a smile. she felt her heart skip a beat at the sight of it, soft and genuine and open on his face. “figures i’d be the one to break your streak,” colt said, in that same overconfident way she always used to hate.

“oh my god, do not start,” she huffed, using their joined hands to push his side until he stumbled a step away.

colt retaliated by spinning her around and pulling her in close, trapping her against the ledge of the balcony before she could move. “why?” he challenged, “what are you going to do about it?”

she was going to kiss that stupid smirk right off his face, for one.

and he was going to spend the night dancing with her and later hold back her hair when she had too much to drink.

then they’d both spend most of sunday in bed, skipping brunch with the rest of their friends to put the hours before her flight to better use.

colt would drive her to the airport. they would say their goodbyes on the curb.

and she would be too excited to sleep on the trip back to miami.

“just wait,” she threatened, though her voice was sweet; she tilted her chin up to brush their noses together. “you’ll see. i have it all planned out.”

the look in his eyes made her feel like she was doing something dangerous; colt looked both fond and delighted, content and sweet and sure. his free hand lifted to thumb at her cheekbone, like part of him was still surprised to find the both of them out here, wrapped up together like they were.

“i’ll bet,” he returned, his voice low and full of promise. “that work ethic is one of the things i like most about you.”

“you’ll have to give me a list of the rest,” ellie laughed, eager to hear his take on it all from what was arguably the most unique perspective in their friend group.

“eh, you can wait,” colt shrugged, gently pressing her in along the stone ledge behind her back on the balcony, leaning over her with another grin, “there’s a few other things we have to catch up on first.”

fair point, she thought, though she’d be damned if she ever actually agreed with him out loud. she had a lot to fill him in on, too.

he’d probably waited long enough, though, so ellie folded first and gave him that kiss she’d planned, colt’s smirk dissolving as expected when his mouth pressed against hers.

when they finally broke apart and turned to head back inside, they drew up short outside the doors to the balcony. every last one of their friends was standing in front of the glass facade, staring at them, their eyes wide and their mouths open. ingrid and logan in particular looked unreasonably overjoyed.

“christ,” colt sighed, as ellie instantly flushed bright red beside him, “is this what this is going to be like all the time?”

“no take backs,” she said, squeezing his hand. she turned to look up at him just in time to catch his eye roll, and the subsequent glare that made the group watching them from behind the door scatter with raucous laughter.

“fine,” he answered, sounding put-upon, but she hadn’t looked away yet and so she still caught the private smile that tugged his lips up against his will.

perfect, ellie thought to herself, and then, for the first time in as long as she could remember, nothing else -- no self-doubt, no exhaustion, no pretending.

colt was probably going to have to help her get used to how it felt to have everything she wanted.

#rodaw #colt kaneko #colt kaneko x mc #choices rod #ellie wheeler #colt kaneko x ellie wheeler #myfic #long post #i love this trope................. too much #GOD i'm so glad i finished this in time !!#there's nothing n/s/f/w in here by the way #the 18+ rating is for swearing lol #and the implication of sex #but we did a tasteful fade to black ladies #also if you ever mentioned wanting to read this you got tagged lol hope that's okay !!#ride or die

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years

Note

Hey there! Could you do stargazing and proposal for sprace? If you would rather someone else that's great too! Have the best day! I might send in another prompt later. <3

I’ve been throwing around an idea of how Spot proposed to Race in my Life in the Emergency series. @deliciouspeachpirate gave me the perfect opportunity to write it. So buckle up kids, this is a doozy.

One point of noting, as I was writing this, I realized that Katherine would’ve had to be in school for 12 years, which would’ve made her at least 30 in this series. I’m envisioning the group to be mid-20s, 25/26 years old. However, she’s actually a PA, not an MD. I’ve made the updates in the other stories of the series.

I do not own One Tree Hill. Curse words and alcohol included.

July 18, 2019 7:30pm

There were perks to working nights while his boyfriend was puttering around the house, unaware of what was to come that night. But little did Race know that Spot was only working until 8pm, having switched with a fellow nurse for the night.

Tapping on the desk caught his attention as Spot looked over at Albert. “You nervous? Ready for this?”

“Why I told you in the first place, I’ll never know.” Spot shook his head, looking at his boyfriend’s best friend. “I’m a little nervous.”

Albert smiled, putting a hand on Spot’s shoulder. “Don’t be . . . my best friend may be a dumbass but he’s going to be surprised. He’ll love it.”

“You sure?” Spot bit his lip, his eyes flying up to see Kat throwing a chart on the desk.

She rolled her eyes, looking at her friend. “Spot we’ve been over this a thousand times. You could propose to him doing the hula and he would say yes. This is perfect for you two and he’s going to love it. Now don’t you have places to be, other than the Emergency Room?”

Spot rolled his eyes at Plums and Albert before quickly clocking out and pushing back the chair. “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck but you won’t need it.” Kat pulled him into a hug before lightly slugging his shoulder. “Text me later, might need some excitement to keep me awake.”

Nodding, he said goodbye to them both, stopping by his locker before he walked to his SUV, his baby outside of Race. Throwing his bag in the backseat, he quickly checked the trunk, making sure the cooler he packed earlier was still cold. He saw the blankets there as well before shutting the trunk lid.

Jumping into the SUV, he turned the radio on and let his thoughts drift over the last six years he and Race had been dating. They had been friends throughout high school but didn’t start dating until their sophomore year of college, when they were roommates. Spot grinned, remembering their wild times at 1456 Wakeman Ave. Jack and Crutchie had lived across the hall with Albert and Romeo just down the hall.

Pulling into the driveway, he quickly grabbed his bag before walking into the house. Dropping his bag on the bench in the mudroom, he smirked, hearing the bass pumping as there was noise coming from the kitchen. Peeking his head into the kitchen, Spot’s eyebrow raised. “Racer, what the hell are you doing?”

His head snapped up, hitting the underside of the cupboard, several curse words escaping his mouth. “Spottie? What the hell are you doing home? You scared the living shit outta me.”

“Sorry about that. But this is your first surprise of the night.” Spot leaned over, rubbing the back of Race’s head as he kissed him. “I’m sorry for scaring you.”

Race gave him a look. “Again, what the hell are you doing home? Thought you were working overnight.”

“That’s what I had you believe. I actually got off at 8 . . . now go get changed into comfy clothes and we’ll get going.” Spot clapped his head, heading to their bedroom to change.

Spot quickly got changed into an old pair of basketball shorts and a t-shirt before grabbing something from the top drawer, heading out to the living room, where Racer still hadn’t moved. “Racer, let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Race asked, tilting his head to look at Spot.

Shrugging, Spot smiled. “Figured since I don’t have to work tonight, we’d go for a drive. Go get changed.”

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Race asked as he headed for the bedroom.

Spot rolled his eyes. “Nah, I figured I’d change along the way.”

“Alright, smartass, you don’t have to break out the sarcasm.” Race called, as Spot went around the living room, turning off the many lights that were on. He yelled at Alexa to stop playing the music. Slipping his feet into a pair of Nike Flip Flops, he grabbed the keys as Race came out of the bedroom. “Alright I’m ready . . . do I need to bring anything?”

“Unless you want a hoodie or something specific to drink, everything is already in the car.” Spot said, twirling the keys in his hand.

Race gave him a curious look, heading back to the bedroom, grabbing a hoodie for them both before meeting Spot in the entryway, heading out to the car. Unlocking the navy blue 4Runner, he quickly got into the driver’s side as Race hopped in on the passenger’s side. “So do I get a hint or anything? Still can’t believe you tricked me on when you worked.”

“I haven’t surprised you in a while, figured it would be a good night to do it.” Spot grinned, leaning over stealing a kiss from him. “As for a hint, it’s something you’ve been wanting to do this summer but we haven’t been able to do it yet.”

Every summer they make a bucket list on their chalkboard wall in the kitchen. Everything from visiting the beach to a summer roadtrip to getting ice cream from their favorite local shop, there are 14 things up on their wall that they’ve been checking off since Race got out of school for the summer. “There’s so many things still up on the board that we haven’t accomplished yet.”

“Well we’ve got a bit of drive ahead of us so you can ponder the board for a while.” Spot smirked, pulling out of the driveway. “Do you want to pick a playlist?”

Race shrugged, hooking his phone up to the system before the Lumineers poured out of the system. “So were you working this morning?”

“Nah, I had some errands to run. I worked 2-8 but I have to pick up a shift in the next two weeks for Maria who is covering for me tonight.” Spot held his hand out for Race to lace his fingers through, giving them a squeeze. “All will be revealed soon but I just wanted to surprise you tonight. I put in a request to transfer to days.”

Race’s eyes went wide as a grin slid across his face. “You did? But you love nights.”

“But I hate not being able to spend much time with you.” Spot countered, taking his eyes off the road for a second. “Kat and Albert are also looking to transfer to days so the gang will all be together.”

Race nodded. “Jack told me that he and Kat are trying to get pregnant . . . that might be why.”

“That’d make sense.” Spot nodded, squeezing Race’s hand, sighing happily. “I love you, Racer.”

“Love you too Spot; even when you scare me shitless.” Race chuckled as Spot joined in.

Spot turned onto the interstate, accelerating the car as he merged on. “So we’re heading out of the city?”

“Yes, we are.” Spot agreed, giving him a look. “Any ideas?”

Race shook his head. “Nah but I can check a few off the list due to going out of the city.”

“Is this one of your random playlist?” Spot questioned, listening to the music fade from “This I Promise You” by NSYNC to “I Won’t Say (I’m In Love)” from Hercules.

Race picked up the phone and looked at it, shrugging. “I just picked one of the Spotify playlist. I can put something else on, if you want.”

“Nah this is good . . . just didn’t expect to go from NSYNC to Disney.” Spot chuckled, picking up their linked hands and pressing a kiss to the back of Race’s hand. “How’s driver’s training going?”

Groaning, Race threw his head back. “Almost got into a wreck with two kids today. Luckily at the last minute they stopped but my heart was in my chest for the rest of the drive. Needless to say, they’re driving with another instructor for the rest of the week.”

“How close are we talking about? Darting out in front of another car or blowing a red light?” Spot asked, raising an eyebrow as he squeezed Race’s hand.

Race sighed. “Darting out in front of a car, one side was clear but failed to see a car coming until it was almost too late. All I kept thinking is thank goodness you’re working today.”

“I love you dearly but it’s never a good day when you end up in my Emergency Room.” Spot gave him a knowing look.

Race half smiled. “I know but you look so damn sexy in those scrubs.”

“I honestly have no words.” Spot said slowly as Race threw his head back and laughed loudly - one of Spot’s favorite sounds in the world.

Spot grinned pulling off the interstate, applying the brake as they came up to a stop sign. Turning left, Spot saw Race’s face break into a big grin as he slowly recognized where they were. “You’re taking me to the old farmhouse?”

“Maybe . . .” Spot shrugged as the playlist flipped over to “I Don’t Want To Be” by Gavin DeGraw. “Remember when you made me watch all 9 seasons of One Tree Hill over a two week period?”

Race chuckled. “I thought you were going to kill me but you ended up loving that show as much as I do. Besides, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone ship Naley as much as you do.”

“Leave my precious babies alone.” Spot took his hand off the steering wheel for a moment to point his index finger in Race’s direction. “They had their ups and downs but damn they were the couple that made that show!”

Race rolled his eyes as Spot turned into the long driveway of the farmhouse Medda had bought several years ago as a retreat outside of the city. “Momma here?”

“Nah, she’s in the city working on some new production.” Spot said, giving his boyfriend a grin. “She knows we’re out here though.”

“Just in case there’s a stray killer scarecrow hunting the grounds?” Race quipped, giving Spot a look.

Shrugging, he stopped the car, turning off the engine. “You never know what can happen in Timbuktu. Come on.”

Hopping out of the SUV, Spot made his way to the trunk to grab the blankets, handing them to Race before grabbing the cooler. Closing the hatch, he offered Race his hand before leading him out to the fields behind the house. “What are we doing? You didn’t bring me here to die, did you?”

Spot threw his head back laughing. “No one is going to die tonight . . . well that’s not in the plans.”

“That’s reassuring.” Race mumbled, lacing his fingers with Spot’s. “What’s in the cooler?”

Spot adjusted the cooler in his other hand as he tugged on the one laced with Race’s hand. “If you hurry up, I can show you. The more questions you ask, the longer until everything is revealed.”

“Okay, okay.” Race motioned Spot to start walking as he followed behind him. “You sure there’s no cow pies out here?”

Sighing loudly, Spot shook his head. “Momma doesn’t own any cows, for as long as I’ve known you. Do you think the cow pies would magically fall from the sky?”

“I mean, you never know. There are cows around here that could’ve gotten loose.” Race defended as Spot looked over his shoulder at him.

“In your dreams, Racetrack. Now pick up your pace. It’ll be midnight by the time we get everything set up at this pace.” Spot cracked a smile at him before looking up at the sky, knowing the night was perfect.

Soon they came to the field that they had often found themselves laying in when they were at the farmhouse. It was a little tradition of theirs. “Here.”

Dropping the blankets on the ground, Race sighed looking over at Spot. “Okay . . . now what?”

“Oh how I love you Race.” Spot leaned over, stealing a kiss from him. “Please never change.”

Race’s eyes went wide as he looked at Spot. “What does that mean?”

“You haven’t figured out what we’re doing yet?” Spot asked, putting the cooler on the ground before spreading out one of the blankets on the ground.

As if something had hit him, Race’s eyes brightened up. “We are going to stargaze?”

“Bingo, snookums.” Spot said, dropping to his knees on the blanket before rolling over onto his back, propping an arm behind his head. “It’s the perfect night for it. Look at how clear the sky is.”

Race soon joined him, laying his head on Spot’s chest as he gazed up at the stars, sighing in contentment. “The big dipper is on bright display tonight.”

“Of course that’s the one that you always find first.” Spot grinned, running a hand through Race’s hair. “And there’s the little dipper and the North Star.”

Race hummed in agreement as he tilted his head back to look at the star filled sky. “It’s absolutely gorgeous out here. Why do we live in the city again?”

“Closer to jobs, family, everything really.” Spot replied. “Maybe in the next few years, we can move out here. It’s not that far of a drive when you really think about it.”

Race nodded against Spot’s chest. “Might be hell in the winter but we can always get a better car.”

“It’s good to dream with you.” Spot mused continuing to run his hand through Race’s hair. “I’ve been doing some thinking.”

Race sat up, giving Spot a look. “Is that good thinking or bad thinking?”

“Always good thinking.” Spot said, sitting up, lacing his fingers with Race’s, squeezing them gently. “How long have we been together, Racer?”

A smile crossed Race’s face. “We’ve known each other since Freshman year in high school, god we were babies. But together officially since Sophomore year of college. I remember being so nervous to tell you that I liked you . . . it was a damn miracle that you hung out with me as a friend, let alone a boyfriend.”

Spot laugh, nodding his head. “The feeling was mutual snookums. I couldn’t get over how lucky I was to have you in my life as a friend, let alone a boyfriend. I remember pinching myself so many times during the first month because I thought this was going to crumble and fall. You’ve been there for every good day, through all the triumphs and downfalls. You’re the first person I want to call when I’ve got good news, the person I want to hug when the day is just awful, and the person I want to vent all my frustrations to. But we’ve been through so much together and our journey is just beginning. Since we’ve been together for six years, I kinda don’t want to spend the rest of my life with anyone else . . . so, Antonio James Higgins, will you do the honor and marry me? Be tied to me for ever and ever?”

Race’s jaw dropped, tears glistening in his eyes, as he started nodding his head before throwing his body weight at Spot, knocking him onto his back. He placed his hands on either side of Spot’s head before leaning down and kissing him. “Ja, Sí, Si, Oui, Yes, Sean Thomas Conlon . . . You're an idiot but I absolutely love you and yes, I will marry you.”

“I’m your idiot now.” Spot said, leaning up to capture his lips in another kiss. “And I love you too snookums.”

Race hummed into the kiss, pressing forward slightly to deepen it. Moaning slightly, Race pulled back with a smirk on his face. “Someone’s a little eager.”

“I’ve been carrying this around for a while now.” Spot sat up, pulling a velvet box out of his pocket, cracking it open. A black Tungsten ring with a row of black Sapphires sat inside the box. A gasp escaped Race’s mouth as he looked at the ring before looking up at Spot. “I-Is that for me?”

“Nope, it’s for the cow that’s in the next pasture.” Spot grinned, shaking his head as Race smacked his shoulder. “Of course it’s for you idiot. Now, can I put it on your hand without a comment from the peanut gallery?”

Holding out his left hand, Race grinned at Spot. Race’s hand shook slightly as Spot pushed the ring onto his ring finger. “I promise you that I will always be there on the tough days, the good days, and the bad days. You will never walk alone as I will always be by your side. And I love you immensely.”

Spot reached up and wiped away the stray tears from Race’s eyes before leaning up and pressing a kiss to his lips. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive, Tony.”

“Ditto, Sean, ditto.” Race half laughed, half laughed leaning forward so that his head was rested on Spot’s chest. “I love you, Spottie. How long have you been planning this?”

“Since a few days ago but I’ve had the ring since April.” Spot grinned.

Race’s head flew up from its place on Spot’s chest as his eyes went wide. “Since April? Where was it hidden in the house?”

“Who’s said it was in the house?” Spot countered, grinning at Race’s jaw drop. “I’m not telling you where it was hiddened.”

Pulling the cooler closer to his side, Spot opened the top, grabbing two red Solo Cups and the champagne bottle that was inside. He made quick work of popping the cork off the bottle of champagne, eliciting a whooo from Race before pouring some of the liquid into each cup. Spot handed one to Race, clinking his cup with Race’s before taking a sip and making a face. Race busted up laughing, throwing his head back. “You should see your face right now.”

“Ugh . . . why is this stuff so awful?” Spot spat out the drink, not even taking another sip.

Shrugging, Race took his own sip, and not a second later, spit it out in the field beside him before dumping the cup. “Please tell me that you brought something else.”

Reaching back into the cooler, he grabbed two bottles of beer, pulling the tops off, offering one to Race before gently clinking the necks of the bottles together. “Much better, mi amor.”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Spot felt Race slide as he sat beside him, mimicking Spot’s position, laying his head on Spot’s shoulder. “This was more than I could’ve ever dreamed of, Spot. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Spot whispered. “Can I confess something to you?”

Looking up at him, Race nodded. “I was nervous to ask you earlier but when I spoke from the heart, my nerves went away.”

“Were you nervous I'd say no?” Race whispered.

“Never. I was more nervous that you wouldn’t like what I was planning.” Spot explained.

Race laced his fingers with Spot’s. “Honestly, you could’ve been doing the Hula and I would’ve said yes.”

Spot threw his head back, laughing, while tears streamed down his face. “You and Kat need to stop hanging out with one another.”

“Kat knew?” Race asked, squeezing their conjoined hands.

Spot nodded. “She did as did Albert. I threatened them both of bodily harm if either of them squealed. Eventually we need to take a photo so I can send it to them. I’m surprised my phone isn’t blowing up.”

Just as he said that his phone dinged as a text came through. Spot groaned fishing his phone out of his back pocket and opened it, laughing at the photo that was texted to him. Race looked over at him, raising an eyebrow at his sudden laughter. “What?”

Tilting the phone, Race laughed seeing Kat and Albert with their chins in the palm of their hands staring into the camera of the phone. “All Kat texted with the photo was well.”

Race laughed. “So how do you want to play this?”

Holding their conjoined hands up, Spot quickly took a photo of it before sending it to Kat and Albert along with Jack, Medda, Crutchie, and Smalls. He locked his phone, throwing it on the blanket before sighing in contentment. “All of the important people just found out. My job is done.”

“Leaving the story part up to me?” Race asked as Spot’s hand found the top of his head and started massaging it.

Spot chuckled. “You’re going to love telling everyone that story. Might as well give you the floor.”

“Ugh you’re so right.” Race said as he sat up. “As much as I don’t want to, should we get going?”

Spot’s mouth slipped into a wide smile before shaking his head. “Nope, we’re staying out here tonight. Neither of us have to work tomorrow so no sense in driving back to the city when we’ll be out here over the weekend anyways.”

“You think of everything, pooks!” Race said, leaning over and kissing him. “Planner by nature.”

Spot snaked his arm behind Race’s head keeping him there, kissing him again. “Shall we move this party inside?”

“Please do not quit your day job, Spottie.” Race laughed, standing up, pulling Spot to his feet before gathering the blankets and putting the stuff back in the cooler. They made quick work of cleaning everything up before making their way to the farmhouse.

Walking inside, there was a light on in the kitchen. Dropping everything in the foyer, the two made their way to the kitchen and grinned seeing what Medda had left them. A cake along with two plates and two bottles of chilled beer were sitting in the middle of the counter. The cake read “Congratulations Spot and Race!” in swirly font. Next to the cake was a handwritten note, which Race picked up and read aloud.

Race and Spot,

Congratulations on your engagement. Spot, I’m so happy you’ll be officially joining the family. We will be back around 4pm tomorrow. Race, your bedroom upstairs has fresh sheets on the bed already. There’s stuff for you in the fridge for breakfast and lunch tomorrow.

Congratulations again and don’t make a mess!

Love,

Momma/Medda

Spot pointed to Race with a grin. “She knows you too well. Shall we dig into this?”

“It’ll be a damn shame if we left the cake go to waste.” Race said grabbing two forks before just digging his fork into the cake and popping it into his mouth. “Damn, momma knows how to pick out a cake.”

Spot dug his fork into the cake popping it into his mouth with a groan. “Medda is amazing and so is this cake.”

Digging his fork in, Race looked over at Spot, offering him his fork as Spot leaned forward, eating the piece of cake. “Hey Spottie?”

“Yeah Race?” Spot asked, swallowing the cake.

Race set his fork down, leaning over and taking Spot’s hand in his, squeezing it. “You know how you said earlier that I made you the happiest man alive?”

“I did and you do.” Spot squeezed his hand in return. “Something on your mind, Racer?”

Race smiled. “You make me just as happy. Honestly, I was thinking of asking you to marry me, but as always you are three steps ahead of me. And I love you for it.”

Spot leaned forward, one hand still clasped in Race’s hand and the other moving to cup Race’s cheek before directing his lips to meet his. “I love you Racer; always, forever, and from here to the moon and back.”

“I love you too Spottie.” Race whispered, before leaning his forehead against Spot’s, pressing another kiss to his lips.

Thank you @deliciouspeachpirate for sending in the prompt. This was a lot of fun to write and feedback would be most appreciated!

#Newsies #Newsies Fan Fiction #writing #ask #deliciouspeachpirate #newsies drabble #drabble prompts #Life In The ER Newsies Series #Sprace #Sprace Engagement

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