#and this picture of juju is literally the death of me….. she looks so fucking good

[bubblepopsims]

💞

Photoshoot <-

[vendettaparker]

Reckless [T.H]

Summary: In a fit of jealousy, Tom embarrasses you in front of your new friend and the entire pub, leaving you heartbroken at his reckless actions.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Swearing, angst, slut-shaming 

a/n: hi! sorry this took so so so long for me to get out! i got super busy with other works, but i’m super happy with how this turned out :) i hope you enjoy this, and don’t worry, i know how scary those warnings look ^ but this ends happy, i promise! as always, comments and reblogs are appreciated <3

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom was an idiot. He was an actual fucking idiot. He now realizes that as he watches you run out of the pub with hot tears streaming down your face. He watches as Harry runs after you, your bag in his hand, probably to make sure you make it back home safe since there was no way you’d return to the crowded bar, where Harrison and Sam were giving Tom death glares, the same little pub where Tom had made a complete fool out of you. 

The few months Tom came home to London were always the setting of your most cherished memories. Sometimes it seemed like when he left so did the whole group of friends you surround yourself with.

There was no doubt in your mind that Tom was the life of the party. He had a certain aura about him that caused some of the most fucked up, but amazing situations to occur. That was probably one of the reasons you loved him so much. 

When he was in town, his brothers, Harrison, and Tuwaine all joined together to make the next few months memorable before he had to leave again, and you were always included, but when he was gone, Harry usually went with him, Harrison focused on work for himself, and Sam focused on his restaurant. The world slowed down after Tom left, and so many times, you were left to wait for his return; alone. 

Tom hated leaving you behind every time he went back to the states, but you had such deep roots in London, he didn’t want to pry you from your family for months on end. He loved you too much to constantly subject you to his hectic lifestyle. He spent as much time with you as he could when he saw you, but the second he had to go, it was all tearful goodbyes in a crowded airport. 

You and Tom had been best friends for decades at this point. You supported him no matter what it was that he wanted to accomplish. He’s even said in interviews that he credits a huge bulk of his success to his friend back home, then he’d give a wink to the camera, and you always knew it was for you. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

When Tom came home after filming Spider-Man: No Way Home, you practically tackled him to the ground in a hug. 

“You div,” You mumbled into his neck, “you forgot to let me FaceTime with Zendaya.” 

“Oh, shit!” Tom gasped, finally remembering your request to talk to your favorite actress, “my bad.”

You looked at Tom incredulously, “I don’t think I can be friends with you anymore.” You feigned hurt, clutching your hand to your chest, “it just hurts too much.” 

“That’s a damn shame,” Tom frowned, “I mean, I could just FaceTime Zendaya now, but if that’s how you—”

“I changed my mind,” You smiled sweetly, cutting him off, “love you, bestie.” 

Tom rolled his eyes and pulled you into another hug, “Missed you, bestie.” 

“Um,” Sam, Paddy, and Harrison stood behind you, clearing their throats. 

“Missed you guys too,” Tom sighed, and he rushed over and gave his brothers and friend a hug.

You gave Harry a hug while Tom chatted with his brothers, quickly catching up with him. 

“What’s the plan for tonight, guys?” You spoke up. 

Every night after Tom got back, he’d go back to his flat and take a nap before a night out on the town. Usually, you’d bar hop a bit before going to a club, so tonight wasn’t likely to be any different. 

“I was thinking we could get dinner at Lorenzo’s,” Harry said, “then maybe hit the pub on Ashford?”

You and the others nodded in agreement as you made your way out of the airport.

“Can I invite my friend Avery?” You asked. 

Tom nodded, “Sure, I didn’t even know you had any other friends, (Y/N),” he joked.

“Haha,” You laughed sarcastically, “gee that was a good one, Tom. You really got me.” 

“What can I say?” He smirked, “I’m a comedian.” 

“Is that the guy you met in your philosophy lecture?” Harrison butt in.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “he’s really sweet, so be on your best behavior guys, and maybe don’t be yourselves, just this once?” you suggested with a slightly teasing tone. 

“Are you trying to impress him or something?” Tom inquired.

“No,” You scoffed, “I’m just trying to not throw him to the wolves.” 

Tom laughed along, but it was strained. He wasn’t too keen on the idea of adding a new member to your friend group, and the little glint in your eye when you talked about Avery made his heart tighten. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” You smiled as you set the last of Tom’s luggage in his living room, “I’ll let you get some sleep then.”

You gave him one last hug and a kiss on the cheek, “see you later.” 

Tom reciprocated and inhaled the sweet smell of lavender in your locks of hair, “mhm,” he sighed, “see ya.” 

Harrison was about to walk out after you when Tom grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him back, “Mate, what the fuck.” he grumbled as he stumbled over his feet, “I thought you wanted to take a nap?”

“I slept on the plane,” Tom explained quickly, “you’ve been here the whole time, right?” Harrison nodded, “so you know this Avery guy, yeah?”

Harrison shook his head, “I haven’t talked to (Y/N) much this past month, but he’s probably on her Instagram.” 

Harrison pulled out his phone and looked at posts you’d been tagged in, “Ah, here.” He handed the phone to Tom and pointed to the tall blonde guy in a group photo with you and some other friends, “He’s the tall blonde.” 

Tom studied the picture with a small frown, “They’re not dating though, right?”

“She said he was her friend,” Harrison shrugged.

“You know what I mean,” Tom rolled his eyes, “do they look really chummy to you?”

“His hand’s kind of close to her butt, but other than that I don’t know.” Harrison pointed it out, causing Tom’s heart to momentarily stop. 

“Ok, new plan,” Tom announced, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight.” 

Harrison scoffed and rolled his eyes. “What?” Tom wondered.

“You’ve said that almost every single time you’ve been home and you always chicken out.”

“No, I don’t!” Tom gasped in offense, “It’s just hard to find the right time.”

“You’ve literally had hundreds of opportunities to tell her how you feel, Mate.”

“It has to be perfect.” Tom insisted, “I can’t just ask her out of the blue, I have to butter her up first.”

“That’s dumb.” 

“Oh, fuck off,” Tom groaned, “get out, I changed my mind, I’m going to sleep.” 

Harrison rolled his eyes and chuckled before giving Tom a pat on the back and leaving. Tom waved goodbye as Harrison drove away, and then rushed to his phone. 

“FaceTime Zendaya,” he instructed Siri. The call went through and soon Tom was met with Zendaya's tired eyes in a dark room. 

“Hey, Z!” Tom said cheerfully, “best friend, bestest pal in the world. The person that never wants to see me fail ever, my greatest companion—“

“Tom,” Zendaya groggily cut him off, “what the fuck do you want, I’m sleeping.” 

“How do you ask a girl out?”

Zendaya sat up a little more and turned on her bedside lamp, “What? You don’t know how to ask a girl out?”

“Well I do,” Tom backtracked, “but I want it to be special. I’ve been in love with this girl for nearly two years now and every time I go to ask her out, I chicken out.”

“I don’t know, what does she like?”

“Well one time she told me her favorite animal was a sea otter, should I get her one?” Tom pondered, hand resting in his chin in thought. 

“Um, no, what the fuck?” Zendaya squinted her eyes at Tom, “have you gotten any sleep yet?” 

Tom shook his head, “This is important, Z, now help me!” 

Zendaya rolled her eyes, “I’ll text you some ideas, but for now just go get some sleep. With how tired you are now you’d probably call her the wrong name or something.” 

Tom rolled his eyes, but the action caused his eyelids to droop even more, “Fine, fine,” he conceded, “I’ll let you know how it goes.” 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Okay,” Tom announced at the restaurant before you arrived, “I’m going to ask (Y/N) out tonight so I need you all to shut up and not distract me or make me nervous.”

Harrison, Harry, and Sam just stared at Tom. Tuwaine, for some unknown reason, started clapping. 

“Tom,” Harrison began, “no offense, but—“

“Ah ah ah,” Tom stopped him, “is what you’re about to say going to bruise my ego?” Harrison thought about it for a moment before slowly nodding, “okay, then shut the fuck up, respectfully. I don’t need any bad juju tonight.” 

“Well, I’m happy for you, Mate,” Tuwaine nodded. He was the closest to you after Tom and he knew all about your crush on the brown-haired Brit. You might’ve let it slip once when you were drunk, and since you didn’t willingly tell Tuwaine, he was sworn to secrecy. “I’m positive she’ll say yes.” 

“Thank you,” Tom smiled at him, sending a slight glare to the others for their lack of faith in him. “As for the rest of you, I can’t wait to prove you wrong.” 

You walked into the restaurant with Avery hunched over from laughing so hard. Tom smiled in your direction and waved you over, “Hey, (Y/N/N)! Over here!”

“Wow,” You chuckled, “must’ve been a good nap. Little energetic there, huh?” 

Tom went in to give you a tight hug, holding you close, “Just missed you,” he mumbled into your hair. 

“I just saw you a few hours ago?”

Avery stood by you awkwardly, waiting for Tom to release you. Tom reluctantly let you go and pulled a chair out for you, next to him. 

“Thanks,” you smiled at him, motioning for Avery to sit next to you, “hey, everyone,” you smiled at the group of boys that were properly about to piss themselves at Tom’s over-the-top behavior, “this is Avery.” 

“Hi,” He waved at the group as a small chorus of ‘hellos’ rang across the table. He turned to Tom to shake his hand, “I’m a big fan, Mate. Love your work.” 

Tom smiled and patted him on the shoulder, “Thanks, it means a lot.” smiled politely, shaking Avery's hand. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Dinner went off without a hitch, at least in your opinion. Avery was melding well with your friends and he was cracking jokes like he’d know the group for years. 

The boys seemed to enjoy his sense of humor and what he added to the conversation. Sam and him even found that they shared an interest in cooking, which led to them having a slightly heated discussion about how real Gordon Ramsey’s cooking skills are; which ended in laughs. 

However, Tom was probably having one of the worst nights of his life. Every time Avery playfully shoved you while you two laughed he wanted to wring his neck. It also didn’t help that he couldn’t find the perfect time to ask you out. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask you out with all of his mates around. 

Tom smiled and laughed along with the jokes, but once you looked away he was back to frowning. 

“Tom,” Harry nudged his brother, “wipe that scowl off your face.” 

“I’m not scowling,” Tom grumbled, “this is my normal face.” 

Harry rolled his eyes and kicked his older brother under the table, “You need to ask her soon. I think Avery is trying to make some moves on her.” Harry noticed, seeing how Avery casually had his arm around your chair. 

Tom rolled his eyes, “As if I can't see that for myself,” he scoffed. “I don’t want to ask her with all of you watching. What if she says no?” 

“We can leave you alone for a bit when we go to the pub, but I’m not sure if Avery will go with us.” Harry shrugged, “you could always ask her out tomorrow.” Harry suggested. 

“No!” Tom exclaimed, causing everyone to look at him and Harry, “Sorry, I—um, I just don’t really like that shirt on you Harry; it makes my eyes hurt.” 

Harry looked down at his shirt for a moment and then frowned, sending a light smack to Tom, “You bought me this shirt you div.”

Everyone went back to their own conversations so Tom leaned in to talk to Harry some more, “I can’t wait for tomorrow. What if I chicken out again?”

“Then you’re an idiot.” Harry deadpanned with a shrug. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The pub was way more packed than anyone expected. The new addition of live music to the outside patio definitely livened up the place and more customers went to see what local band would be playing next. 

The pub had a classic English pub feel, with the wood flooring and the yellow-tinted walls, but it also had a modern twist with a back patio and outdoor seating with fairy lights, and the lights that illuminate under the bar itself. 

“I’m gonna go check out the band,” Harry announced after he came back with your drinks, “you guys should all come with me.” He said with a slight side-eye to Sam, Tuwaine, and Harrison. 

“Eh, I’m not really into—” Sam began, but Harry sent him a quick kick under the table. “Ow! I mean, I love music.” Sam smiled enthusiastically. 

“I’m gonna stay back and finish this beer,” Tom said, holding up the large pint of beer he was already a quarter of the way through, “(Y/N), wanna race to see who can finish first?” He suggested trying to get you to stay behind.

“Oh you’re totally on,” You smirked, “but I am going to take a quick peek at the band. We can race after I get back.” You got up from your seat and began walking away with Harry and the boys. Tom pouted at how horribly that plan worked. Harry looked back at Tom apologetically as he held the door open for you.

“Wow,” Avery smiled beside Tom, scaring him, “she really is something.” 

“Holy shit, Mate,” Tom held a hand to his heart, “you almost gave me a heart attack. I thought you went with them?” 

“Nah,” Avery shook his head, “I’m not really into music,” he shrugged. 

“Oh, okay,” Tom nodded. “What were you just saying?”

“(Y/N),” Avery looked towards the back patio exit dreamily, “she’s amazing. I mean I would definitely ask her out, but probably not at a pub surrounded by her mates, y’know?” 

“Mhm, yeah,” Tom said quietly, his heart already beginning to shatter into millions of inconsolable pieces. “I mean, she’s alright.” He said with a forced laugh, trying to fend Avery away from you, “she definitely isn’t really your type, though.” 

“What do you mean?” Avery asked, taking a sip from his beer, “she’s perfect, mate.”

“I mean,” Tom racked his brain for an excuse big enough to make Avery not want you, “you don’t think it’s a little weird she’s in a friend group with all boys?” 

“No,” Avery said slowly, skeptically looking back at the exit, “she just clicks with boys, I guess. Girls and guys can just be friends.”

“Not her,” Tom scoffed, “I mean, it’s just a little obvious, y’know?”

You and the rest of the boys were heading back in, seeing as the back patio was completely overcrowded with patrons. 

“What’s obvious?” Avery asked, raising his voice slightly due to the volume in the bar. 

“(Y/N)’s only friends are guys!” Tom nearly yelled over the volume of chatter, not realizing that the surrounding customers could hear him, “makes me wonder how many she’s slept with! I mean, that’s not a coincidence to me!” 

The surrounding customers halted their conversations, leaving only Tom’s voice filtering through the air and into your ears. 

“That’s crazy,” Avery chuckled awkwardly, “I don’t think she’s like that.” He shook his head, annoying Tom. In a final last-ditch effort to get Avery off your back, he said the worst thing he could, loudly, into a quieting pub. 

“Well, she hits on me all the time,” Tom shrugged, “she’s just a bit whorish, I guess.” 

“Tom,” Tuwaine cleared his throat, interrupting their conversation, “what the fuck, mate?” 

Tom looked at all the boys next to Tuwaine, and behind them was you, teary-eyed with harsh sobs racking through your body. 

You whispered something to Harry, and then all but ran out the front door. Harry walked over to where Tom was sitting and picked up your purse.

“Harry I—” Tom tried.

“Shut the fuck up, Tom.” Harry snapped, “You're an idiot and an asshole, just leave things be.” 

Harry ran out the pub entrance, following you to give you a ride home. 

Tuwaine, Sam, and Harrison shook their heads once the shock ebbed away. One by one they all left Tom sitting in shock and agony at the bar. Avery, not knowing any of the group, barely knew what was going on or if Tom’s accusations were correct, left the pub and went home without another word. 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

“Harry,” Tom whined into the phone, “please tell me how to fix this, please I’m begging you.” 

Harry sighed, now properly regretting lifting his silent treatment from Tom, “Tom, there is absolutely nothing I can do to help you, and even if there was, I wouldn’t. You called her a whore in front of a crowded pub—”

“I know!” Tom yelled, “And I’ve been living with that guilt for three weeks now! Please, Harry. I-I messed up so bad.” Tom’s voice cracked, “I tried calling and texting, a-and my texts started turning green. She blocked me,” Tom sobbed, “I’m in love with her, and I never got to tell her. I ruined our relationship before it even began.” 

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “you did.” 

“Harry, I just want to apologize properly, please.” Tom begged, “I tried going to her house, but her roommate threw a drink at me and told me she went out of town. Where is she?”

“I can’t tell you.” 

“Harry,” Tom sighed, “I’m trying so hard here, I don’t care where she is, I’ll go anywhere for her. Please, I just can’t keep waiting in the dark for her to talk to me.”

Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead, “Okay, fine, but don’t tell her I told you where she was. And if you get your face clawed off, just know that you deserve it.” 

“Okay, okay, now tell me.”

“She’s been staying with Tuwaine and his girlfriend.” 

“Okay, thanks, love you, bye!” Tom said through the phone, already grabbing his keys. 

Harry sighed and began texting Tuwaine, 

Harry: Tom’s coming over, don’t snap him in half, he just wants to talk to her. 

Tuwaine: I’m not home right now, but I'd be more worried about her snapping him in half… 

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

Tom pulled up the Tuwaine’s flat and pounded at the door. He didn’t see Tuwaine’s car in the driveway but he saw yours parked on the street so he knew you were in there. 

“(Y/N)!” He desperately called, “Come on, I know you’re in there!”, his pleas were met with silence and he rang the doorbell on repeat, “(Y/N), please! I just want to talk!”

The door opened to show you standing there with your messy hair and stained sweats, still looking overwhelmingly perfect in Tom’s eyes. He noticed the dark circles and the dried tears and his heart broke, even more, knowing he caused this. He loved you so much and he caused you some of the worst pain imaginable. All he wanted to do was hold you and kiss your puffy cheeks, desperately whispering praises into your ear. You were perfect in every sense of the word, and he let you believe you were anything less. He was an idiot—the biggest idiot in the world—for making you cry. 

“What do you want?” You snapped with a sniffle, pulling him back to reality as you rubbed your red eyes. 

“I just want to talk,” Tom gave you a small smile, “please.” 

“I don’t have anything to say to you.” You scowled, “You need to leave.” 

“No, (Y/N), please.” Tom begged, “I’m sorry. I’m so so so fucking sorry. I was being an idiot and—please, (Y/N), you’re my best friend. I don’t wanna lose you.” Tom’s voice cracked, but you remained stoic in the doorway. 

“I’m your best friend? Really?” You scoffed, “I thought I was just some whore you let hang around you?” 

Tom winced at his words being thrown back into his face, “I didn’t mean it, I swear,” he promised, tears glistening in his eyes, “I don’t even know why I said that. I was being so fucking stupid—” 

“No,” You interrupted his rambling, “you don’t get to say that. You don’t get to say that it was just you “being stupid”. Who the hell says that about their supposed best friend? Why would you even think that? You don’t just get to call me those things in public, and then say that you don’t know why you did it. You can’t even give me a reason—”

“I’m in love with you,” Tom blurted out, blowing out a puff of air in stress, “I’ve been in love with you for the longest time, (Y/N). And Avery was saying how he wanted to ask you out, and I couldn’t lose you. I didn’t want to lose you. I had so many plans for us, and I wanted to be with you—to be yours—more than anything, and I let my jealousy get in the way. I’m sorry because if I deserved you I wouldn’t have done that.”

You stood in the doorway of the flat, arms crossed over your chest. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless.” You said after a moment of silence, “I would’ve been yours if you had just asked me.” 

“I’m sorry,” Tom cried, reaching out to hold your hand, but you backed away ever so slightly, “please, I would do anything to fix it if I could.” 

“You don’t understand anything, Tom.” You frowned.

“Help me understand.” He begged.

You pondered it for a moment and then released a sigh, coupled with a few tears, “I loved you,” you admitted. Tom’s heart did a leap, but then he realized that you were talking past tense as if his chance with you was gone.

“And I would spend months and months just waiting for you to come home so I could spend time with you. I was so lonely when you and Harry left; I always am. Avery offered to spend some time with me after class one day and I agreed because I don’t have anybody else when you leave. And it was fun, but he wasn’t you. He’ll never compare to the place you had in my heart, but at least I wasn’t alone anymore.” You sighed and began closing the door again, “Now, because of you, I have no one again.” 

The door was about to slam back in Tom’s face, but he shoved his foot in the threshold, “(Y/N), wait,” he pleaded, “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize how important Avery was to you. I can never undo what I did, but please let me make it up to you. I just need you to understand how sorry I am.” 

You opened the door again and looked at Tom’s sad eyes, boring into you, “I do understand how sorry you are, but I don’t know how I can trust you again. You said awful things about me without even batting an eye or taking a breath—”

“I know,” Tom sighed, “I know and I’d give anything to take it back. I just want you back (Y/N). Even if you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I can’t leave knowing I’ve lost my best friend.” 

“As much as it hurts,” You caved, moving from the doorway to let Tom in, “I still love you, and I don’t want to lose you either.” 

Tom smiled and walked into the flat, immediately pulling you into a hug, “I’m so sorry, (Y/N),” You hugged back and sniffled into his hoodie, before pulling away with a sigh.

“I know,” You nodded, “I forgive you. But next time, just be honest with me and tell me how you’re feeling. I’d give you the world if you asked for it.”

Tom smiled and stroked your tear-stained cheek, “I’ll just settle on your heart for now, if that’s okay?”

“That’s so fucking cheesy.” You giggled, wiping the tears from your eyes, “I love it.”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

✧tags & moots✧ @ptersmj @princessofguineapigs @peterbenjiparker @cherrytholland @itsapeterthing @justapurrcat @thirstiestpotato @kelieah @iovebug  @waitimcomingtoo  @rosyparkers  @parkers-gal @allegra-writes @starktonyx  @celestialholland  @hollandcrush  @londonspidey @blissfulparker @spidernerdsblog @spidey-sophie @spideyspeaches @peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology @andilovetowrite @sinisterspidey @asonofpeter @westcoastcigar @arlo-sanders @love-peterparker @boiolay @letssee2468  @white-wolf1940 @fandom-life-12 @hollandsdream @annathesillyfriend @lovelybarnes @miseryholland @wierdteenagenerd @duskholland @hollandprkr @lauras-collection @arvinsescape @hollandsrecs

[artificialqueens]

game of survival, chapter twelve: epilogue (branjie) - holtzmanns

AN: If you’ve stuck around to the last chapter of this fic, kudos to you. This is the first multichapter fic that I’ve written and actually finished, and it’s been so much fun. I’ve enjoyed writing it so much, as well as the response to it - if you’ve ever left a review, please know that I’m so grateful for it. This fic is quite literally my first-born child and while I had the outline for it completely planned out before writing it, it took on a life of its own and it’s been such a fun journey. I’m going to miss writing it and miss these versions of Brooke and Vanessa so, so much. Thank you so much for reading. Enjoy the epilogue.

“Congresswoman, mind if I steal you away for a minute for some questions?”

Vanessa turns to whom she presumes is the next reporter waiting to speak to her. “Of course, hello-”

Oh. Not a reporter.

“Hi.” Brooke’s smile is mischievous with a hand on the small of Vanessa’s back, pulling her close and pressing a kiss to her lips.

Vanessa can’t help but grin up at her fiancée, ignoring the camera flashes and the questions that are being yelled at them from just a few feet away. “Hi, baby.”

“Have I mentioned how proud I am of you tonight? Because I’m fucking proud of you.” The way Brooke is beaming down at her makes Vanessa truly believe that she means it.

“Mmm, you may have mentioned it once or twice. Maybe a couple times when the final poll numbers were announced.” She’s so lucky to have had Brooke with her the entire run, both literally and figuratively.

“Winner of the Democratic primary. I had no doubt that you could do it.”

“Is this your way of telling me ‘I told you so’?”

Brooke gasps in mock offence. “Not at all. Okay, maybe a little. I’m glad you went for it now, though. Waiting for another election cycle was smart.”

Vanessa nods. “It would have been a lot tougher on the both of us if I ran four years ago.”

It’s true. Four years ago they had been dating for a year, Vanessa a newly elected congresswoman. It had been a busy time even without considering the fact that it was right before an election year. The congressman who’d ordered the hit on Vanessa had been convicted after a long, seemingly never ending trial. Vanessa had testified, holding enough information back to be as truthful as possible.

Vanessa had also lobbied in congress for Shuga Cain’s release, citing improper police investigation procedures, and secured it. It was something that she’d had long discussions with Brooke about - the woman hadn’t done the crime, and while her family was shadier than a maple tree in the springtime, she didn’t deserve life in prison. Cain’s acquittal was enough to get her family off of Brooke’s back - with no one after her head, she was free.

Not that it had been that easy.

Vanessa had been the first one to go to therapy. The nightmares, the flashbacks, the worries of not only her own death but that of Brooke had piled upon her shoulders brick by brick, torn down the foundations of her resolve which she had to work, really work, to build back up.

Brooke had been harder to convince. Vanessa had known that it would be a difficult battle, a long one, because Brooke was (and still is) used to taking care of herself. Pushing down anything that bothered her, compartmentalizing because she felt as if she had no other choice. Pushing Vanessa away in the process.

A small part of Brooke’s reasoning was that she would never fully be able to be honest with a therapist. Not with her history, her past, her job. But Vanessa had still wanted her to try, to frame it in the context of her detective career.

The many fights, many long discussions before Brooke agreed to try, then stay in therapy had been exhausting for Vanessa, with Brooke no doubt feeling the same. Though even she had admitted one night when they were curled up under the covers and limbs tangled that she was glad for the push, no matter how annoying Vanessa had been about it (Brooke’s choice of words, not hers, thank you very much).

It was something that Brooke had to get used to, Vanessa had noticed, learning to channel her vigilance into her new job.

A job that Brooke’s now held for the last four years - Vanessa’s primary bodyguard, part of her larger security team. After all, the hiring managers had loved Brooke (“You’re good at keeping the bitch from dying,” had been Silky’s glowing review) and her references had checked out (a lot of begging from Vanessa).

A conflict of interest, sure, but who else would Vanessa even have by her side, protecting her? The last few years have been mercifully free of bullets, of hits on her life - something that they’re both thankful for, though it doesn’t stop Brooke from being extra alert, extra careful while she’s on the job.

Not to mention Brooke’s outfits while she’s working. Vanessa knows she has a thing for Brooke in her leather jacket, but Brooke in a fucking suit? She’s pulled her fiancée into too many empty hallways and rooms to count for rushed makeouts, teasing and promises of later. No one’s ever said that she has good self control.

“Happy anniversary, by the way.” Vanessa keeps her voice low, but she wants to scream it from the rooftops. Five years. Five entire fucking years.

“Wrong. Our anniversary was three days ago, and you know it.” Brooke raises an eyebrow. “I happen to remember you greatly enjoying the night we had.”

“Our anniversary is not based on the first time we had sex. It’s based on us talking about being together, when you were in the hospital.” Vanessa pouts. “Celebrating the first time we boned isn’t romantic. But that talk we had felt so right, it fits. It feels official.”

“But we became so much more close to each other after the night we first had sex. Both literally and figuratively.” Brooke winks at her and Vanessa can’t suppress a groan.

“Must we do this every year?”

“It’s part of the fun. Plus, I know how much you secretly love celebrating two anniversaries and the chance to get doubly spoiled.”

“Maybe so.” Vanessa can’t deny it, it is fun. Brooke is too good to her - and with Brooke’s arm around her waist, she thinks for the millionth time that night about how fucking lucky she is.

“I have to go give my speech soon.” Vanessa says it with a mixture of both excitement and regret, because having Brooke on her arm is her favourite feeling in the world, but-

She’s just won the primary . The fucking Democratic primary. And she has an excuse to gloat about it.

“Told you it was smart to memorize it last night.” Brooke’s eyes are sparkling with pride, happiness. It makes Vanessa want to twirl her around, ignoring the fact that she’d have to stand on a chair to be tall enough to do so.

“I just wanted to be sure I was going to win before getting ahead of myself, y’know?” Vanessa has a habit of getting her hopes too high sometimes, and has had to reel it in the last few years in politics. She’s learned to keep her expectations realistic now, and gets to be pleasantly surprised when things work out just the way she wants them to.

“And now you’ve done it, and it’s time to celebrate.” Brooke leans down to kiss her, pulling back for a second before leaning in to whisper in her ear. “I have a surprise for you tonight.”

“Yeah?” Vanessa looks up at the smirk on Brooke’s face, the one that she’s trying to keep from spreading.

“Yeah.” Brooke grabs Vanessa’s hands then, brings them to her hips and oh.

Garters underneath Brooke’s dress, and who knows what else other lingerie that’s peeking out and is that an outline of lace?

“Are you trying to kill me before my speech? Is that what you want to do?” Vanessa mutters it into Brooke’s ear, doesn’t even need to look at her to know how satisfied she is.

“Maybe. You’ll have to wait to find out what else is waiting for you tonight, though.” Brooke’s fingers rake up her sides, keeping it relatively PG because they are in public, after all.

Still. Doesn’t stop Vanessa from wanting to take Brooke into the nearby supply closet and having her way. She’s only human.

“I’m going to go before you leave my brain unable to function, you minx.” Vanessa pulls away as Brooke lets her hand travel a little too far down on her backside which the cameras better not have caught, no ma’am.

“Alright, Madame President.” Brooke’s smile is wicked.

Vanessa swats at her, because Brooke loves to tease her like this way too much. “Hush, we ain’t even close to that at all yet, don’t be putting juju into the universe that may not even happen.”

“Maybe I just really want to be your First Lady.”

“And a beautiful one you will make. Hypothetically, if it happens. But we ain’t saying nothing yet.” Vanessa pictures Brooke on her arm the way she is now, except in the White House, on Presidential visits…she can’t get ahead of herself just yet. No matter what the election year will hold.

“In all seriousness, though, so damn proud of you, Ness. Now go knock them dead while I grab another glass of white and cheer the loudest out of everyone.” Brooke lifts her empty glass and Vanessa snorts because of course she’s gotten through two already.

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too.” There’s no hesitation in Brooke’s response, and it makes Vanessa’s heart calm down, relax, before she has to give one of the most exciting speeches of her life.

She has to go find A’keria, smooth over last minute details before she speaks. They have more battles ahead, more races to win in the future, but it doesn’t matter.

With her friends and colleagues and family and Brooke by her side, she’s already won.