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yesttoheaven · 3 years

Text

I SEE YOU – chapter IV

pairing – arthur fleck x female!reader

wc – 2.3k

warnings – idk... misty being a b*tch with arthur?

a/n – hi everyone! I hope you are well because I'm brazilian and I cannot say the same lol the president is a piece of shit and he can't rule the country in the middle of a pandemic (not even without the pandemic, in fact)

anyway enjoy the chapter!

English is not my first language. I am getting help from google translator and he is not always a good ally, so I apologize for any typos or grammar errors.

Y/N – your name

chapter one. chapter two.

chapter three. chapter four.

"What are you doing here, Misty?" The surprise was notable in Y/N's words.

Many people could walk through that door, but Misty was definitely not one of them.

"I should ask you the same question..." The woman came over and put her hands on the actress' shoulders, smiling amiably. "But we don't have time for that right now. You have a dinner to go! And it is not right to keep a man like Charles waiting."

"Charles?" Arthur asked, trying to find a way to join the conversation. "Is he also an actor?"

After these simple words, the redhead burst out laughing and Arthur didn't understand what he had done wrong this time. He was just curious and a little interested to know who was the man who had a date with Y/N that night.

"Actor? God, have you never heard of Charles Lewis Tiffany?" Misty questioned how if the fact that Arthur didn’t know the man was an offense to humanity and Arthur just shook his head, too embarrassed to say anything else.

Who the hell was this man? The Pope? And why did Y/N have a dinner with Pope?

"It's okay, Arthur." Always so graceful, the actress reassured him and left Misty's side to be close to him. "Charles owns Tiffany & Co., the one that appears in the movie Breakfast at Tiffany's... Have you watched this movie before?"

"Oh, oftentimes!"

"Me either! And now Charles wants me to be the face of his new collection! I'm so excited, he came to Gotham just to follow it up in person!" The happiness shining in her eyes was contagious, but Misty didn’t like seeing Y/N squeeze the man’s arm gently.

"I hate to have to do this... the conversation is so pleasant, but we have to go, mon cher." With a smile, Y/N's manager adjusted the bag on her shoulder. She wanted to take the actress away from this freak as soon as possible.

"You cannot go without the VHS tape." Arthur objected, receiving a death glare from Misty, but the only thing that mattered to him was Y/N. "I'll get this for you." After these words, the man left the living room with a reason to make her stay a little longer in his apartment.

"Well, I think we're going to have to wait." Y/N shrugged, but inside she was beaming.

Feeling her mouth dry, she picked up the glass of water on the table, but that was her worst mistake.

"What are you doing? Don't drink this! That dirty glass is full of germs!" The glass was snatched from her hand and Y/N looked at Misty in disbelief.

"That glass is not dirty, Misty."

"How can you be sure of that? I heard that the Narrows sewer is one of the worst in Gotham!"

"Thanks for the lesson, but that didn’t come from the Narrows sewer. This water is from the kitchen tap."

"Oh my God..." The actress could have sworn that the woman's face turned green and she would vomit at any moment. "Why did you drink this? You'll be sick!"

Before Y/N had a chance to respond to these insanities, someone called her. She ran over to the bag and took out her cell phone. It was Charles.

"Hey, Charles! It's good to talk to you." On the other side, all she received were strange noises. The man's voice was being cut off and it was difficult to understand. "The connection is awful..."

"Why am I not surprised? Narrows is the end of the world!" Misty commented, rolling her eyes.

Without time for this discussion, Y/N said:

"Maybe in the corridor I will get a better signal."

"Be careful, you don't know what kind of neighbors there are in this place." She warned, listening to the door open and close, but Y/N said nothing.

Alone in the living room, Misty had the same disgusted look as when she arrived. For her this apartment is small even for an ant and this wallpaper is ridiculous, but in the midst of so much poverty, something on the couch attracted her attention.

"What do we have right here? I don't believe he has a diary..." The woman whispers to herself, laughing, after picking up Arthur's journal. She knew it was wrong, but she was bored.

The first few pages were OK, he had a shitty life like any other unfortunate person, but what came next scared the hell out of her. Misty knew there was something wrong with this man. The instant she saw him, she knew, but that... those words... were from a sick person. Arthur was a disgusting pervert. The redhead needed a moment to breathe and then she saw the magazines on the table and an scissors...

Oh no. He intends to include Y/N in this depravity show!

"I finally found." With bright eyes, Arthur looked for Y/N in the living room, but all he found was Misty... and his journal. "W-What... What are you d-doing?"

"Stay away from me!" She exclaimed, backing away for fear that he would do something against her. "I swear, if you get close I'll scream so loud and when Y/N comes through that door, I will tell her your little secret. She will be so disappointed, but she will finally find out who you really are... A perv!"

"N-No, please... You got it wrong." He tried, his voice taking on a desperate tone. Arthur didn't want to lose the actress's friendship. She was too important for him. "I c-can explain."

"Oh, can you explain? You will glue Y/N's head to a cat's body and then you will sit on that old sofa and touch yourself? You should be in Arkham! You're a sick person! I can't believe Y/N was alone with you..."

Arthur felt his stomach churning.

"You're wrong... I have a lot of respect for her. Y/N is special to me and I would never do something like that."

"I don't want to hear your excuses!" The woman threw the journal at him and Arthur cringed like a frightened dog. After hitting him on the back, the journal fell to the floor and when he saw those collages, he felt ashamed of himself. "Listen to me... I will say this only once: Stay away from her. It doesn’t matter what kind of fantasies you’ve created in your sick head, Y/N will not be a part of that. If I know that after today you keep talking to her, I'll call the police and when they find out you're a fucking perv, you will spend the rest of your days in Arkham." She warned with all the letters and threats, now it was up to him to choose to cooperate or not. This man is too old to play being a teenager. These images of naked women, these cats and those sad quotes in his journal prove just one thing. Maybe he's a sexual predator, but Misty wouldn't be here to find that out either. "Enjoy your pornography and leave Y/N alone. I hope I never see you again."

Arthur saw his world fall apart as soon as the redhead left his apartment with the worst assumptions about him. He was not a perverted monster. He would never touch Y/N without her consent and would never endanger her life. Never ever. Y/N was the only good thing about Gotham; she was a light at the end of the tunnel. So angelic and peaceful. Whenever she smiles, butterflies appear in his stomach and Arthur knows what these famous butterflies mean, but he doesn't know what those collages mean... If Y/N knew, she would probably be afraid of him.

In the corridor, the actress was trapped in a bubble, talking animatedly with Charles. The call had no specific reason, the man just wanted to make sure everything was fine for dinner that night.

"Okay... This is one of Gotham's best restaurants. Trust me, you will love the place!" She assured him, intending to make a good impression. It wasn't every day that she got a chance to dine with the genius behind Tiffany & Co. and represent that brand. This was an important step in her career. "Now I need to go, Charles. See you soon, bye!" Y/N hummed the ending, watching Misty approach where she was. "Why are you here?"

"It's just your friend's mom. She's not feeling very well..."

"Isn't Penny okay?" Concern crossed Y/N's face and she tried to get back to apartment 8J, but Misty took her arm, lying again:

"Y/N, don't be indiscreet. This is a family problem and Arthur is taking care of it." With those words, she guided the actress to the elevator, but Y/N kept looking at the door to Arthur's apartment. "You need to prepare for dinner... I chose a beautiful dress for you."

...

THREE DAYS LATER

"Put red on her lips... Don't forget the mascara... and on the cheeks use this blush... Not this one! The peach blush!"

It was possible to say that Charles Lewis Tiffany was taking the place of the makeup artist. The woman was losing patience, Y/N realized this, but he wanted to participate in every second of it. When she finished, Charles smiled, admiring Y/N's beauty through the mirror.

"You see? You're genuinely beautiful... I think I finally found my muse." The actress was flattered by the compliments and that reflected in her smile when Charles took a blue box, but this was not a simple blue box. This is the famous Tiffany Blue Box. "I want you to meet my new creation..." He opened the box, stealing Y/N's breath instantly. "Dramatically plunging down the decolletage, an incredible emerald-cut bicolor zoisite that shifts from violet-blue to purplish-red, depending on the angle. The pendant is over 48 carats and it's wrapped in a halo of baguette diamonds and suspended from a diamond rondelle chain of over 37 total carats."

"Oh Charles, this is absolutely beautiful. I'm speechless..." She confessed, watching him take the necklace and offer to put it around her neck. Y/N accepted immediately and when the pendant touched the white fabric of the dress, she smiled at the mirror.

"Diamonds are a girl's best friend" Charles whispered, eliciting a giggle from her. "Now I need to speak to the photographer, but take a few minutes to prepare yourself." The man smiled one last time and Y/N walked to the door, opening it for him. She took the opportunity to spy on what was happening on the other side and it was possible to say that there was a little sadness in her eyes.

"What are you looking for?" Misty's voice echoed and she closed the door quickly.

"Huh... nothing!"

The woman was checking the contract – something about image authorization – and when she took her eyes off the papers, she found Y/N with a half-hearted smile.

"Go ahead... Spill the tea."

Brian was probably smoking, so Misty was her only option.

"Arthur was busy these days, but he called me this morning... He looked nervous and said he would like to talk to me, so I invited him to accompany the photoshoot, but..."

"You did what?!" Misty left the chair, interrupting her. Not wanting to start a scene, the redhead looked at Dariela, the makeup artist, and said: "Get out." The woman immediately stopped organizing her makeup and ran out of the dressing room.

"Was that necessary?" Y/N asked, crossing her arms.

"And was it necessary to invite that maniac to come here too?"

"Jesus, Misty!" She walked to the other side of the dressing room. "Manic? Really?"

"I'm just telling the truth."

"Based on what? His bank account?"

"Based on his journal." Misty replied and the actress looked in her direction with a frown. Shaking her head, the redhead let out a bitter laugh before confessing: "He doesn't use it just to write jokes... I found a lot of pornography on those pages."

Y/N felt a little uncomfortable with that. Certain things do not need to be exposed... She didn't need to know about that part of Arthur's life and Misty just invaded his privacy.

"Well... many men consume pornography daily."

"Y/N, pornography is not the point here. He makes some weird collages... women with cat heads... skulls... one of these women was tied up in a compromising position... Can you see how problematic this is?" Misty was trying to open her eyes and consequently was scaring the actress, but that was not all. "I saw the magazines. That man will probably do the same to you... your face on the body of these naked women or on a cat's body! You have always been uncomfortable with the way men see you only as a sex symbol... and now Arthur is using you as a sex toy!"

"Stop! Just stop, okay?" Y/N demanded, using an edgy tone of voice. That was too much for her to assimilate. "You're saying this because you do not accept the idea of Arthur being my friend! All that matters to you is status, but it doesn't matter to me! When are you going to let me live my own life?"

"This is not about social classes, this man is a pervert! I'm trying to protect you!"

"Enough, Misty!" That was enough to make the redhead shut up and Y/N found her way back to the mirror.

To complete the look, inside the blue box was a beautiful diamond ring and a pair of shiny round diamond earrings, just waiting for her. Putting on the ring was an easy task, but she couldn’t say the same about earrings; her hands were shaking and this is all the fault of the stress.

"Let me help you." The manager approached and at first Y/N refused her help, but after another failed attempt, she handed the earrings to the woman. "I know I can be a bitch sometimes..."

"Sometimes?"

Misty just sighed, shaking her head.

~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~▪~~~~~~~~~~

a/n – likes and reblogs are appreciated but honestly I’d love to know what you all think of this one. really hope you enjoy it and thank you soooo much for reading ♡

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fishmongeringstudies · 3 years

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five: the ballad of the goose-girl

once upon a time there was a goose who wanted to become a man. or there was a man who wanted to become a goose. or there were both, or there were none, or there were many of the same spell. once upon a time there were ten thousand geese and they wanted to go south. why? because it was too cold up here, they said. too far from the equator. too lonely.

one of the geese was called jorge. jorge had been assigned the role of miserable family caretaker with an inferiority complex from birth but a brief spell of rebellion in their teenage years led to their official disengagement from the role and subsequently, the adopting of a new one. jorge was a philosopher. their favorite philosopher was kant. they had never read any kant because geese can't read.

dimitri could read. dimitri was a goose but there was, how do you put it, something a little off about her. sometimes dimitri woke up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat, her blankets kicked to the other end of the room, babbling about microeconomics and the supply-demand curve for cross-continental flying gear. dimitri was in a mad, one-sided love that consumed her body and soul, but this wasn't that bad in the broader scheme of things because this gave jorge, who couldn't read, something to do.

sometimes dimitri would read jorge poetry. dimitri had memorized every book of poetry in the main branch of the national library when she made a stopover there in her youth and could now be called upon to recite almost any poem from memory, as long as she didn't hate the poet. for example, dimitri hated sylvia plath. no matter how much jorge begged and pleaded with her as they flew over the skyscrapers of new york, the masses of writhing trees and open fields dotted with cows and sheep and death, she would not change her mind. 'please,' jorge would say while they stopped to rest on the fender of some college student's beat-up honda civic. 'read me a poem. any poem.' 'you mean,' dimitri would say, taking a drag from her cigarette. 'read me a plath poem.' 'that's not what i said,' jorge would respond defensively, because jorge was the kind of goose that assumes the world is out to get them no matter what and sticks their head in the gift-horse's mouth and then screams down its gullet for five minutes. finally, dimitri would laugh. 'that's what you mean.' then the conversation would end.

one day dimitri and jorge got separated from the flock. this was not unprecedented, as dimitri had been lagging behind for a few days now and jorge, being her designated attendant, had stayed with her. but it was just as frightening for jorge as it had been the first time, fifteen years ago when dimitri had pitched out of the sky halfway across philadelphia like an anvil and jorge had found her sprawled on the fender of some sad person's fucked-up lamborghini, looking like an angel in a bad insurance advertisement. it was always the fenders. dimitri had a thing for fenders.

dimitri also had a thing for letting her long, healthy history of communication problems fuck up her relationships with other geese, a habit she had picked up in her youth alongside smoking, lying, and reciting poetry. she was doing all three of the latter as they circled around the deserted shopping complex a fifth time, the sun a blurry white spot a few feet beneath their heads. 'did you know,' said dimitri, a cigarette clamped in her beak.

'no, i don't know,' said jorge.

'asshole. i haven't started speaking yet.'

jorge observed the setting sun with a detached kind of panic. 'yes you have.' they brushed something out of their eye with their wing. the smoke from dimitri's cigarette kept getting into their eyes. it was making it hard to concentrate on not being sad. 'you said 'did you know.''

'that's not the important part.'

'then what is the important part?'

'the important part is-'

south meant many things to many creatures. depending on who you asked and what time of the day it was when you did, you might get anything ranging from 'the southern tip of malaysia' to 'nineteen-seventy-five'. right now, in this particular snapshot of time, south meant the following things. for jorge, it meant freedom. for dimitri, it meant-

'-is that every shopping mall is a little haunted.'

jorge was unimpressed. most things were haunted to some degree or another. it was a very old world and the people that lived in it were all very broken, but that didn't stop the broken things from wanting to hang around, even after their ribs had cracked open and their lungs were smeared with soot. they told dimitri as much.

dimitri cleared her throat, which was hard to do while lying and smoking and flying in a circle around a deserted haunted shopping complex but otherwise feasible for a geese as competent as her. she turned to look at jorge, the trickle of her gaze sliding over their white, wind-tossed body like a cool hand over a flame.

'what i'm saying is let's spend the night there.'

;

once upon a time there was a goose named dimitri who was in a mad, requited love that consumed her body and soul. her partner was a poet, of course, because all geese want to fall in love with a poet, but here's the catch. jie ting never told dimitri which poems were about her. dimitri spent years trying to coax the confessions out of her, making her breakfasts in bed, bringing home cute little mice with their tails tied up in butterfly knots, kissing the spot where her wing met the curve of her body with the kind of reverence worshipers reserve for the day they meet their creator, but jie ting was stubborn and beautiful and kind and dimitri could never bring herself to do the truly horrible thing, to walk into her study and crack open the journals she kept those intimacies in. in spite of this, well, this thing between them, they were happy. they puttered around making cups and plates out of wet clay. they told stories about their cousins who had gotten lost in rain forests in the amazon and streets in taipei. every year they made the long journey down south, and then flew back up in the spring. and then jie ting died, and then there was no one left to coax anything out of.

the doctors said there was nothing dimitri could have done for her. for every million perfectly preventable deaths there are two to three freak accidents, faultless failures, broken vessels. and for every broken body on the pavement, trampled by cars bigger than the both of them combined, there was a broken heart.

dimitri closed up their old haunt in the woods. she broke all the mugs and gave all the bones back to their grieving micey relatives, who were horrified, and then angry, and then sad. then she flew all the way down to singapore and learned every poem in every poetry book they had in the national library, a looming glass building in the heart of the business district, and dragged her battered body all the way back up north, through miles and miles of snow-kissed nothing, and then jorge returned home in the spring with the rest of the good ones, the ones who weren't fucked in the head, who still had hope to speak of.

she can teach me poetry, thought jorge.

they definitely went to a liberal arts college, thought dimitri.

neither of these things are true. but neither are the stories that led them to each other. a lie canceled out a lie and after the dust had settled and dimitri had recovered from the ghost of death on her shoulder, they found each other standing right where they had started out, on opposite ends of the same crooked street.

;

the perfume store smelled like sixteen layers of hell distilled into a single bottle of wine that had been left to ferment for a few millennia and then smashed in a pool of vomit but it was the only place that wasn't so overgrown with vines that jorge could clear out a place for dimitri to lie down. they did so with an efficiency that startled even themselves, brushing dust and old receipts aside with one wing and spritzing the whole place clean with the other. dimitri was then coerced into the little sacred spot, though she was deeply reluctant and jorge was deeply embarrassed about the whole thing. desperate times call for desperate measures. when there are two geese and one perfume store and nineteen shades of bergamot and lavender, one learns to quieten their demons.

the funny thing about geese is that they are about sixty-percent neck and forty-percent everything else and yet a goose lying sideways occupies two hundred percent of the previous amount because geese are conceited like that. dimitri took up more than enough space on the shelf in the perfume store from hell, but with a little maneuvering she was able to make enough space to pull jorge down beside her. the funny thing about geese is they have very big egos, and very small dreams.

'imagine i am your mother,' said dimitri, waving one wing idly in the dark. 'singing you a lullaby as you drift off, packing your lunchbox for school, turning out the light in your bedroom.'

jorge's eye twitched. 'huh? i will not,' they said. 'that's disgusting.'

'oh. you think i'm disgusting?'

'no, that's not what i mean-'

'-but that's what you said.'

'-i said the idea of you as my mother is disgusting.' jorge hid their face in their feathers but their beak was too long and stuck out in a highly noticeable manner, therefore ruining the effect altogether. they grumbled to themselves, then spent a few minutes contemplating the fifteen feet of nothing that lay before them. a field of snow, ash, or flowers. darkness could be whatever you wanted it to be. that was part of the appeal of closing your eyes.

'hey,' they said.

'mm?'

'why won't you recite a plath poem?'

the sound of something soft against the wall. dimitri was brushing the flat of her wing along the wall behind her, over the faded labels and the peeling tiffany blue paint. 'because i can't.'

'but you know them, don't you,' jorge pressed.

'i do.'

'then?'

'how old are you this year, jorge?'

'old enough to read depressing poetry.'

'but not old enough to have fallen in love.' she withdrew her wing from the wall. it came away caked in dust and old memories. rich, gold-kissed families with kids in little bow-ties, babies forgotten in well-lit dressing rooms, the occasional stabbing. 'am i wrong?'

jorge bristled behind her. 'what does love have to do with this?'

'because,' dimitri mused, and jorge felt every sound that she made in their chest, where the heart was working furiously to keep blood circulating without end. 'all poems are love poems.'

'you know,' said jorge.

'i don't know.'

'good. you shouldn't.' jorge curled themselves tighter, so the two hundred percent became a hundred and ninety-five. 'i'm going to sleep. good night.'

;

once upon a time there was a goose who would do anything for her lover and then that lover died. once upon a time there was a goose who was really good at literary analysis, so good she could have taught at harvard if she hadn't wanted to be closer to her lover, who worked in non-profit and spent most of her time abroad, and then her lover died. once upon a time there was a goose. and she knew a lot of poetry. it was the last thing she did for jie ting, with the gray-dusted coat and the heather eyes. do geese have heather eyes? fuck it. this one did.

once upon a time there was a goose who really wanted to go to a liberal arts college, but their dad gambled all their savings away on a business venture which went bust moments before the big cash-out and so the college fund became a college black hole, a college financial aid form which procured miserably few sympathies from the financial aid office, a college nothing. this goose was really quite smart, though they couldn't prove it to save their life. but the other goose knew. the other goose wasn't as smart. she'd just had more money. and worse luck.

this isn't a love story. in this story there are no love stories because in some languages every story is a love story, and if everything is something then there is really nothing, no takeaway at the end of the parable, no shard of glass in the sand. imagine you're walking along the coastline in a white dress made from diamonds and you step on that shard of glass. there goes your foot. what will you do? the world is ending.

in the morning dimitri wakes up first. she touches jorge's forehead with the tip of one wing, then the flat of it, then the side. there's a bar of sunlight coming in through a gap in the moth-bitten blinds and it falls across jorge's face in rivulets of gold-leaf, liquid wonder. she watches them sleep for a few minutes, their chest rising and falling and trembling with all that infallible youth, with the faithless determination of someone whose body has grown older but whose soul has stayed as faultless, as clueless, as divine. if god were a goose it would be jorge. says who? says dimitri, who has god's number saved on her phone.

once, a few months ago, she wrote a poem. this she read out to jorge, while they were flying over the rooftops of san diego, each word falling out of her mouth like stars, like things she should have really kept to herself and in the safety of untouchable darkness and yet jorge was looking at her. she was reading this poem and jorge was looking at her and it wasn't the kind of look you gave someone you found by the side of the road, someone who had helped you with your college apps and tied your tie on prom night. it was the kind of look you gave an angel you wanted to pin to the sheets.

'is this poem about someone?' asked jorge, who was for all their cluelessness and cruelty, quite terribly perceptive when one wanted them least to be.

panicking, dimitry dropped her cigarette. she shook her head. 'no.' she shook her head again, for emphasis.

once, dimitri had a fit of coughs so bad she passed out right there in the lobby of that high school. the doctors said it was her lungs. her friends said it was the cigarettes. jie ting, who was long dead by then, said it was the heartbreak. put it back together, said the ghost of her dead lover. you can put yourself back together. maybe i don't want to, dimitri said, a sheaf of papers falling out of the pocket of her coat.

once, she didn't go south. she went up north in search of forgiveness, and when jorge arrived in the spring, they were as lovely as she remembered them being while she had gotten nowhere. still stuck in place, spinning in slow circles, watching god die on a white-gold stage. still mourning.

'i'll write you a poem,' jorge said the other day. 'to thank you.' for being the first person. for being the first person ever.

'don't bother,' she told them.

'i'll do it anyway.'

'i won't read it.'

'you will.'

once there was a goose and another goose and they were all lovely and sad with long, elegant necks and hard, sharp beaks for cracking things open but all they ever did was crack themselves open, like if you hurt yourself enough times you could make the world give you back what it had taken away. but that's not how it works. you know this. you know this, don't you? dimitri? dimitri?

dimitri's still in that old perfume store. she's leaning closer and closer to sleeping beauty, with the lanky limbs and the merry-go-round smile, and she's whispering something, though she'll never tell you what and you'll never get the chance to ask, she's breathing like the air's made of glass. sea-glass. have you ever seen the ocean? she'll take you one day. your name is jorge and you're asleep. you're being kissed on the mouth by a very beautiful person. she's going to die.

but all living things die eventually, you counter. you don't get it. you are missing the point.

that's fine. miss the point. keep sleeping. the moon pulls away from you the way some people pull knives out of bodies, like she can feel every inch of distance she puts between yourselves in her chest, where the heart is working furiously to keep life alive. she pulls away and it hurts her, you know. did you know? you can fall in love twice. you can fuck yourself up twice. there's always room in the cupboard for more ceramic mugs. she made you one. she'll never give it to you. you never asked.

that's your first kiss. and your second, and your third, and as you grow older the kisses will meld together into this looming memory of touch, sensation, heat, softness, girls, girls, girl. girl with the cigarette between her teeth. girl with the sharpshooter eyes, the gunmetal laugh. girl walking you home, girl flying you across the starless city, girl singing you a lullaby when you're eighteen and the world hates people like you who give life everything you've got and have the audacity to think it'll listen.

girl walking out of the perfume store. girl stepping into the half-light. girl leaving you behind.

or maybe it's the other way around. this way you will be able to catch up to the rest of the flock, this way you will make it to the other side of the world before winter gets its hands around your ankles. she's giving you an opportunity. take it. i said take it.

south means a lot of things depending on who you ask. for jorge, it's freedom, new skies, sunsets drenched in whiskey. for jorge it's the second best thing about being alive. for dimitri, it's death.

once upon a time there was a goose and their name was jorge. once upon a time there was a goose and her name was dimitri. in another version of this story they meet each other before the accident and the hospitals and the house in the woods, the financial crash, the long, cruel winter. in another version they kiss with their eyes open, their hearts unspooling around the confession, the truth, the sacred thing that lets people be happy with each other. in another version of this story jorge says read me a poem and dimitri says i'll read you something sweeter, and then she reads them a love poem.

in this one, one goose dies, and the other keeps flying.

A smile fell in the grass. Irretrievable! And how will your night dances Lose themselves. In mathematics? Such pure leaps and spirals - Surely they travel The world forever, I shall not entirely Sit emptied of beauties, the gift Of your small breath, the drenched grass Smell of your sleeps, lilies, lilies. Their flesh bears no relation. Cold folds of ego, the calla, And the tiger, embellishing itself - Spots, and a spread of hot petals. The comets Have such a space to cross, Such coldness, forgetfulness. So your gestures flake off - Warm and human, then their pink light Bleeding and peeling Through the black amnesias of heaven. Why am I given These lamps, these planets Falling like blessings, like flakes Six sided, white On my eyes, my lips, my hair Touching and melting. Nowhere.

05.25.21

#poem at the end is night dances by sylvia plath #did you know geese. grab their neck. this is a mistake you can always count on

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yikesharringrove · 4 years

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hello !! may i request billy trying to "woo" steve but hes oblivious to it ? and it gets to a point where nacy is Tired of billy looking like That when steve plays offs his advances and she just decides to help him out with a relucent jonathan ? robin is there too but she isn't gonna say anything bc she loves a good show. thank you !!!

Ao3

Jonathan was sitting on the counter, Nancy leaning on his legs when Billy walked in.

He smiled sheepishly at them, heading towards where Steve was behind the counter, chatting as he rewound tapes. He ducked over into the horror section, re-emerging quickly, obviously knew what he was comin’ in for.

“Oh, Exorcist. I haven’t seen this one. Steve was all smiles as he stood up to help Billy.

“It’s pretty good. Lots a’ gore, and stuff.” Billy side eyed Jon and Nancy, leaning a little further over the counter. “We could watch it together, if you wanted.”

Billy had gotten a nice studio apartment in downtown Hawkins with the government cash out he had gotten from the whole Starcourt ordeal. Steve had helped him move in, hadn’t been back since.

“Sorry, man. Don’t really like horror movies.”

Nancy noted how dejected Billy looked when Steve looked down to punch in the amount on the register. Billy left with a small wave and Nancy reached over to whack Steve in the arm.

“What the hell was that for?” He was pouting at her, rubbing his arm.

“You’re an idiot, Steve Harrington.”

“What’d I do this time?”

“Billy just asked you out!” Steve’s eyes were wide.

“No?”

“Yes.”

“No, he just invited me over. He does that a lot. usually he rents movies I don’t think I would like, though.”

“He wants you to come over and get scared so he can protect you, or whatever.”

“N-no.”

“Yes. He wants to sit on the couch, and put his arm over you, and he wants you to hide your face in his chest when you’re scared literally all guys use that move.” She considered Jonathan for a moment. “Current company excluded.”

“I still don’t think he was asking me out.”

“Billy!” Nancy just so happened to be loitering near his apartment building as Billy was returning from his weekend job at the garage near family video. Billy started when she called his name.

“Uh, hey Nancy.” He was fidgeting with the buttons on his coveralls.

“Look, Steve is sweet, but he’s the most oblivious person on the planet.” Billy tightened his jaw, a shadow of his rough self, his rough pre-Starcourt self.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tried to push past her, but she just followed him up the stairs.

“I know you were trying to ask him out yesterday.”

“Wasn’t tryna do shit.”

“I don’t care that you’re into him. I want to help you.” She rolled her eyes.

“Help me?” He raised one eyebrow as they crossed into his little apartment, appraising her. “Help me do what?” She turned to him, grinning wide.

“I’m going to help you get him.”

“He likes movies with a lot of adventure. A steady rise and fall of events. So, Indiana Jones, or Conan, or James Bond, all of those. And he loves westerns. He made me watch so many fucking westerns.”

“Sounds like he just likes hot guys.” Nancy rolled her eyes.

“He likes Barbarella, too. He doesn’t have much in the way of an attention span, so things need to be constantly happening. He took me to see Gremlins three times when it came to the Hawk.”

“Okay, so action adventure. Easy enough.”

“Well, he’s also got a big soft spot for sappy romances. And I’m talking the real sappy ones, not like Sixteen Candles, I mean Gone with the Wind, and Breakfast at Tiffany’s, and Cleopatra. He’s a big mushball, and he loves love.” Billy kinda felt like he should be taking notes at this point. “He has all these Italian films from the forties, and he says that’s what he grew up watching, and they’re all very romantic. He loves watching those, because then he’ll translate the whole time, and I think that makes him feel romantic, it’s a whole thing.”

“Wait, he speaks Italian?”

“His mother was born in Italy somewhere. It’s his first language.”

“Shit, I didn’t know that.”

“He’s quite proud of it. He was raised by his grandmother, his nonna, and still knows all of her recipes.”

“That’s cute.” Billy thought for a second. “So, I should invite him over for a movie he’d like, and if I conveniently had all the ingredients for some complicated Italian dish, just like, around, he could be into that?”

Nancy stared at him.

“Wow. You’re just as mushy as he is.”

“Don’t hate.”

“You need to help me.”

“Nance, I just don’t feel like we should get-”

“Of course we should get in the middle of this! Our friends have a chance to be happy, together.” Jonathan huffed.

“Nancy, be honest with me. Are you just trying to do this because you genuinely want Billy and Steve to be happy, or because you still feel guilty about everything that happened with Steve?” Her mouth dropped open.

“I, I don’t-no.” She shook her head. “Of course not.” Jonathan raised an eyebrow at her. “No, Jon. I want them to be happy.”

“Okay, but I still don’t think we should interfere.”

“Of course we should. You saw them the other day, they cannot do this themselves. I’ve already talked to Billy.”

“You already-Nancy.” He gave her a look.

“What? I’m helping.” He rolled his eyes.

“Nancy’s making me talk to you.” Jonathan kept his voice monotone.

“Um, about what?” Steve was reshelving tapes, Jonathan following behind him with the box full.

“About Billy.”

“What about Billy?”

“She wants to help you two get together.” Steve laughed.

“I know she means well, but he does not like me like that.”

“She seems to think he does. Apparently, she’s already talked to Billy. They’ve got a whole plan.”

“A plan? What do you mean?”

“She told him all of your favorite movies and they’re idea is that you’ll go to his place and you’ll cook dinner together and watch a movie.”

Steve’s eyes were big when he looked up at Jonathan.

“Wait he, there’s actually a plan?” He was picking at the peeling sticker on a Cinderella tape. “What are we gonna cook?”

“I don’t know. Billy said he’s just gonna get a bunch of vague Italian shit, his words, and he’s hoping you’ll take over from there.” Steve smiled to himself.

“Um, you think you could get him a list? So he doesn’t just have to buy stuff.” Jonathan furrowed his brows.

“Wait so, you’re good with this?”

“I mean, it’s kinda, it’s kinda sweet.”

“So, her plan worked?”

“Well, I still gotta go on the date.” Steve returned to shelving tapes.

“But, you’re going?”

“Yeah. If he asks.”

“Get me a grocery list. And believe me, he’ll ask.”

Steve had picked one of his favorite recipes, giving Jonathan a list to casually slip to Billy.

He had been waiting all week for Billy to come back, rent some movie he loves, and ask him over.

But it had been days since he had spoken with Jonathan.

And he was losing hope.

“What’s up, Mopey?” Robin was fake pouting at him.

“Billy hasn’t been in in a while. Is all.” Steve shrugged, tried to act all casual.

Robin rolled her eyes.

“Missing your boyfriend?”

“Shut up.” His face was red as he mumbled. “Nancy and Jonathan kinda, they kinda made a plan, and I think he’s just, I think Billy’s not actually gonna go through with it.” She sighed.

“Look, I told Nancy I was not gonna get mixed up in this, but, he likes you, Dingus. He’s not backing out, he’s not blowing you off. Take a breath.”

“I’m just, I care about him, you know? He’s been through a lot. I don’t wanna fuck it up.” Steve was scuffing his foot against the ground, watching it intently. “I always fuck it up.”

“Hey, it’s just one date. And maybe there’ll be a next, and a next, but for now, take the date. Have a good night.”

Jonathan was back on the counter, watching Billy psych himself up outside.

He was hoping from foot to foot, obviously practicing everything he was gonna say.

Steve was being very good at not making eye contact with everyone.

The bell above the door made a loud sound as Billy shoved it open.

He stared at his feet as he hid himself in one of the aisles.

Steve gave Nancy a panicked look.

“Breathe,” She hissed at him. He took a few deep breaths in and out of his mouth, his eyebrows scrunched together.

A few minutes later, just as Steve had calmed himself down, Billy came back out of the aisle, a few different tapes in his hands.

He set the tapes down, giving Steve a nice smile, a real smile.

“Hey, Bill.” Steve wasn’t even looking at the tapes.

“Hi, Pretty Boy.” Steve flushed. “What’re you up to tonight?”

It was painful, watching the two of them dance around one another. Billy didn’t know Steve was in on the plan, didn’t know Steve was fucking vibrating and the speed of sound for Billy to ask him out.

“Um, nothing much. Just gonna go home.”

Nancy slapped Jonathan’s leg, pulling him into one of the aisles, spying on the two from around the shelf. Robin stayed sitting behind Steve, snapping her gum.

“You could come over, if you want. Watch one a’ these.” Steve finally looked down at the tapes, brightening up right away.

“I love Barbarella.”

“That’s ‘cause you’re a human.” Steve laughed as he punched in the amount. There were beginning to fall into a rhythm, Steve picking up the next tape.

“Oh shit.” He was holding the Sound of Music tape like it was made of gold. “I used to really love this movie.”

“We can watch it, if you want. I’ve never seen it.” Steve looked at him like he had an extra head.

“You’ve never seen it? Billy, what the fuck? We’re so watching this tonight.” He picked up the last tape.

“That one I got for me.”

“I uh, I didn’t even know this movie existed.” He was staring wearily at the mutant on the front, tracing the font spelling out Forbidden World.

“Oh Pretty Boy, you’d hate it.” Steve laughed. He took Billy’s neat bills, practiced hands made quick change.

Their hands brushed as Steve passed over the coins.

“You want me to bring anything? Tonight?”

“Just yourself.”

“Nothing for dinner?”

“I mean, I got some stuff. If you wanna, like, make something.” Billy was fidgeting with the tapes.

“Yeah, I, uh, I really like cooking. We could, like, cook together.”

“I’d like that.” Steve gave Billy one of his sunshiniest smiles. Made Billy melt a little. “What time you get off?”

“Five.”

“Be over as soon as you can, then.”

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“It’s a date then, Stevie.” Steve was grinning like he had won the fucking lottery. Billy gave him a stupid little two finger salute, nearly ramming into the glass door on this way out.

Steve waited until Billy was safely out of view of the storefront windows before he lost his shit.

He was wiggling around like the happiest little worm, Nancy coming out of hiding to give him a hug.

Robin snapped her gum at him when he tried to get near her, so he hugged Nancy again.

“Hey, thank you guys. For, for everything.” Jonathan clapped him on the back.

“No problem, man. Just do us all a favor, and get laid.”

#I almost never write post season 3 that isnt a #they burned it out of Billy au #cause I lowkey fucking hate most of that season lol #yikes writes #steve harrington #billy hargrove #steve harrington x billy hargrove #billy hargrove x steve harrington #harringrove #harringrove fic #harringrove ficlet #harringrove drabble

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ourloveisforthelovely · 3 years

Text

This or That 6

Harry Potter Marauder AU

Link to chapter 5

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Sirius Black x Reader

Rating: M- smut

______

The next morning, James and Sirius were still angry over the whole Ambrosia kissing Regulus incident. Both boys waited for you to come down into the common room for breakfast. When you didn’t show, they shrugged and went down to the great hall alone.

“We have to do something.”

Sirius said, angrily. James gave his best friend a look before reaching out and grabbing Sirius’ arm.

“Can you not hit on her? She is having a hard enough time already.”

Sirius sighed.

“Look, Prongs. I get it. She wants Regulus. Y/n doesn’t want me...like that. I was going to apologize to her for being a massive dick to her too. She deserves that.”

James was clearly pleased.

“There’s my best friend! Why don’t you offer to go with her to Slughorn’s Christmas party tonight...as friends. Something tells me that she won’t be going with Reg.”

Sirius shook his head.

“I am not going to Slughorn's merry get together. I have a better idea. We’ll have a party. Just our circle. That will bring Y/n some joy. It's the people who care for her the most.”

James considered Sirius’ plan as they walked into the great hall.

“Great idea. Hey, Regulus is looking rough this morning. Let’s go spread joy.”

Sirius smirked at where his little brother sat with his group of idiot friends. Regulus definitely didn’t look happy. His face was sour as he kept glancing to the Gryffindor table for any sign of you.

“I like to spread joy.”

“You two aren’t spreading joy without me.”

Both Sirius and James turned as Remus ran up. Both boys were clearly pleased to see Remus running up to defend your honor.

“Moony, I was wondering where you were.”

Sirius said, happily. Remus nodded.

“I didn’t want Y/n dating him in the first place. I knew that this would be nothing short of a disaster.”

James elbowed Sirius.

“So about that spreading joy thing?��

The three boys wore matching smirks as they walked past the Slytherin table. Sirius was the first to stop. Regulus, Evan, and Ambrosia (who Sirius noted looked pretty depressed herself) all looked up at him.

“Bitch, jerk, and fruit salad. Hope you all are having a lovely day.”

It took all that James had not to break down with laughter over Sirius using Lily’s “special” nickname for Ambrosia. Regulus was on his feet with his wand out in less than three seconds. He was ready to hex his brother for even speaking to him that morning.

Evan reached up and tugged Regulus back down.

“He isn’t worth it.”

Evan said, sounding almost bored.

“You all are some mean little twats, you know that?”

James snapped. Remus quickly came in.

“I told my sister not to date you. I knew that you would just break her heart. It only took you two months. I was holding out for 5. Sirius disagreed. He said you wouldn’t make it 3.”

Regulus’ eyes had darkened as he glared at Remus.

“Go suck on a loafer, Lupin.”

Regulus didn’t curse much. That was another way that he and Sirius differed. Every other word out of Sirius’ mouth was a curse word. Regulus, on the other hand, didn’t curse. He considered it “beneath him.”

“Do you kiss my sister with that mouth? Oh wait, she just dumped you.”

James was about to make another joke at Regulus’ expense but before he could you walked up.

“That’s enough, boys.”

You said, calmly. As much as you didn’t want to, you met Regulus’ gaze. His face was screaming “I’m sorry” as he stood.

“We were just having some fun with these twat waffles.”

James said with a grin. He put an arm around you and smirked how instantly jealous Regulus appeared.

“Let’s go. They aren’t worth it.”

You said. Regulus finally remembered how to talk. You guessed he was struggling with words or trying to keep his raging temper in check.

“What about Slughorn’s party? You already have a dress.”

Regulus ignored the way Evan was smirking at him. Evan knew exactly what Regulus meant. Your mother and father spent a lot of money on that dress. It was money that your family didn’t have. This was yet another reason that Evan didn’t see you as a proper girlfriend for his best friend. Poor families didn’t have any business mingling with the upper class.

“I’m not going and definitely not with you.”

Your response was cruel and you knew it. However, you wanted to hurt Regulus as badly as he hurt you. You couldn’t help but wonder if he actually cared about you at all? You were hurt and irrational...misery truly loves company.

Boyfriends don't’ kiss other girls in front of their girlfriends…

Your mind supplied as Sirius grinned.

“I’ll go with you. I don’t really know any of those nerds except Evans and yourself but I’m free tonight.”

You internally smacked yourself in the head. Regulus was seething now! He pointed his wand right at Sirius and muttered a curse. Thankfully, Sirius was quick enough to repel the curse with an amused laugh.

“I’m not going to the party, thank you. Now let's go. This is getting out of hand.”

You grabbed a hold of Remus and Sirius’ arms before tugging them away with you. James smiled as if he had won some grand prize before following you to the Gryffindor table.

Lily and Marlene had been watching the spat from their places.

“We were waiting for someone to start hexing the other. Regulus lasted longer than expected.”

Marlene commented. You sat down in a huff. This was the last way that you wanted to spend your morning. You had all intentions of going to Regulus and ending things properly. If he wanted to kiss Ambrosia, he could have at it. So what if you were devastated? Clearly, your feelings didn’t matter to Regulus in the slightest. He couldn’t defend you against his stupid friends so why even bother with a relationship?

“The little git thought that she would still go to that party with him.”

James commented. Lily frowned.

“So, you’re not going now? Who will James and I talk to?”

You smiled at the offended expression on James' face.

“Each other, maybe?”

Sirius had kept his eye on his little brother who looked close to frustrated tears. This totally shocked Sirius. The last time that he had seen Regulus cry was when Orion was using the cruciatus curse on Sirius for breaking a window. Regulus was 8 years old at the time and sobbing in the doorway. Orion had yelled at Regulus telling him to suck it up. After that Regulus didn’t cry anymore. He just looked indifferent toward everything.

Maybe he actually does care about her?

Sirius thought, feeling a bit guilty about the earlier scene. He pulled himself from his thoughts and turned back to his friends.

“Better idea, instead of Slughorn's boring ass party, why don’t we all have one of our own. You know our inner circle?”

Lily shook her head.

“We have to go. These parties are a big deal. Slughorn will be devastated. Y/n just come with James and I. Yeah, it may be a little unorthodox but it can be fun.”

James nodded.

“I can dance with you both.”

You shook your head, giving them both a frown.

“Way to make me a third wheel.”

Sirius put his fork down and turned to you.

“Go with me.”

Sirius wasn’t surprised when you scooted away.

“Sirius, that is a horrible idea.”

He held his hands up defensively.

“We can go as friends. Y/n, I’m sorry. I know that I have been a real git myself to you. I know that you want Regulus and I’m okay with that. What I am not okay with is how he is treating you and how our friendship is going. We’ve been friends too damn long to let it go out like this.”

Sirius was relieved when you smiled.

“You’re right. We have been.”

You didn’t care about admitting that you missed your friendship with Sirius.

“That would be really nice. I would like that.”

It was cruel what you were doing. You knew that you turning up with Sirius would break Regulus’ heart. This would be Regulus having to face his worst fear...losing you to Sirius.

It really isn’t like that but it will appear that way.

Maybe Regulus would then see how you felt seeing Ambrosia kiss him. It was devastating!

That evening you sat as Marlene put the finishing touches on your makeup. She clasped her hands together before putting her makeup away.

“Y/n, you are so beautiful! It's no wonder that you have Sirius and Regulus fighting over you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“It isn’t as glamorous as it seems. Trust me.”

Lily walked in with a small box in her hands. She smiled before putting the box in your lap.

“This is from Regulus.”

Your mouth dropped as you quickly undid the cute little bow. What was Regulus thinking? Did he think that sending you some cheesy letter in a box was going to win you back?

“I wonder why he is sending me something?

You commented before reading the name on the box.

“Tiffanys?”

Marlene shrugged.

“Must be some kind of muggle brand? Seems kind of odd that Regulus went with a muggle brand seeing how he is.”

Lily’s mouth dropped as she scooted closer.

“Tiffanys if super expensive.”

Marlene nodded as it all began to click. Of course, Regulus would send you some over the top expensive gift. His family was good for it.

Your mouth dropped as you looked at the most beautiful pair of pearl earrings and a matching necklace that you had ever seen! This was the first piece of truly nice jewelry that you ever owned.

“Wow, these are beautiful. I can’t keep them though.”

Marlene jumped up.

“What are you talking about? Regulus wouldn’t have given them to you if he didn’t want you to have them?”

You sighed and closed the little box.

“He probably got them before yesterday and they just turned up. I can’t keep anything that expensive. Lily, tell Sirius that I am not going to the party. I have to get out of here.”

You ignored your friends pleading for you to come back as you dashed out of the common room.

Marlene sighed.

“Well, what do we do now.”

Lily silently thought for a moment before speaking.

“I’m going to get Regulus.”

(1 hour later)

You sat huddled in Moaning Myrtle's lavatory. Typically you would just sit by the window and look outside. Tonight, however, you didn’t even want Myrtle to talk to you. You went into one of the stalls and closed the door. Sinking down, you wanted nothing more than to spend the evening in tears.

The sound of the door opening and close made you stop. You couldn’t help but wonder who in the right mind was coming in here? Most people were scared to death of even crossing Myrtle so coming into her bathroom was insane.

You listened to the footsteps as they inched closer.

“Y/n?”

Your heart began to pound hearing Regulus’ voice. Putting a hand to your mouth, you choked back a sob that was still trying to go through you.

“Y/n, I know that you are in here. Lily told me so. I can also smell your perfume.”

You watched, from your place on the floor, as his feet stepped closer and closer. When the door tried to open and wouldn’t budge, he sighed. Regulus could see the outline of your body in the poorly lit room.

Regulus slowly sank to the floor on his knees.

“I’m sorry about yesterday. I never meant to hurt you. Darling, I know that you probably don’t believe me but I had nothing to do with Ambrosia kissing me. I wouldn’t have done it to hurt you.”

When you didn’t reply, Regulus slowly sat down and leaned back against the door. This was not how he envisioned spending your last night together before the Christmas holiday. Regulus didn’t know what else to say. He had warned you that he was clueless when it came to being a boyfriend.

“I love you, Y/n. Ambrosia is jealous. I never cared for her as I do you.”

“You’re better off with her.”

You finally replied. Regulus frowned.

“Why would you say something like that?”

“Your friends won’t treat her like crap or a second class citizen. I’m always going to be that person and you won’t do anything about it. I want to be alone.”

Regulus could see your hand within inches of his. He slowly reached out and covered your hand with his.

“I was wrong to let them talk to you like that. It will not happen again. You make me happy...she doesn’t. She doesn’t make me feel loved as you do. Please come out. I don’t want to be alone again. I’ve felt alone my whole life. Sirius left me. I don’t want to lose you too.”

You turned your hand enough to feel Regulus’ palm against yours. Pressing your lips together, you fought back another urge to cry. This was the most that Regulus had opened up to you since that first day of being a couple. He was clearly trying. Putting his reserved closed-off nature to the side and letting you know what he was feeling said a lot.

Regulus, meanwhile, almost cried himself when your hand pulled away from his. The moment that he heard the door unlocking he jumped up. Maybe you were giving him a second chance?

The moment that you opened the door, it took all that he had not to pull you against him. Your pretty green eyes were puffy from crying and your make up was ruined but Regulus didn’t care. You were beyond lovely in the silver dress that you were wearing.

“Come here.”

Regulus said holding his arms out. You didn’t need to be told twice before throwing your arms around Regulus’ shoulders as he held you back. Snuggling your face into his shoulder, you didn’t want to let him go.

“I’m sorry, love. Please don’t hate me.”

Regulus’ voice was gentle as he did whatever he could to comfort you. After a few moments, you slowly looked up at him. Regulus appeared as devastated as you were. Now he reminded you of the sad boy that you had also noticed walking through the hallways. The boy whose parents never said that they loved him...the boy that you needed and who needed you.

“I don’t hate you.”

You said before pulling him down into a kiss. Regulus’ eyes instantly snapped closed as he deepened the kiss.

“I could kiss your lips forever.”

He said as his eyes fluttered open. The two of you stood nuzzling your noses against each other while simply enjoying the moment.

“Would you like to go to the room of requirement?”

You asked. Regulus’ opened his eyes.

“Are you sure you want to give up your virginity to me now? I figured that I would be grounded.”

You shook your head.

“Now is a perfect time.”

Regulus wrapped his hand around yours and quickly tugged you toward the bathroom door.

The two of you snuck through the hallways avoiding teachers and prefects. Regulus held the door to the room of requirement open before rushing in after you and casting a locking charm. The last thing that he wanted was for anyone to disturb the two of you.

Meanwhile, you were looking around the room with a smile. A bed was already waiting for the two of you. Regulus’ arms wrapped around you from behind.

“We don’t have to rush.”

He whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“I’m ready.”

You said, hoping that you sounded as confident as you felt. Regulus reached up for the zipper on your dress and slowly pulled downward.

“You’re beautiful. Y/n, you’re the only girl that I want in my bed.”

Where his sudden surge of bravery came from...Regulus wasn’t sure. He had been dying to get his hands on you for ages. From the first kiss, he wanted you desperately but he couldn't ruin your first time due to him being a horny mess.

You stepped out of your dress as Regulus turned you in his arms. His eyes slowly rolled down your body. Suddenly, you felt very timid in front of him. You quickly pulled your hands in front of your bra-covered breasts. Regulus gently pulled you toward the bed and sat you on his lap.

“Don’t hide.”

He reached behind you and tugged on the bra’s clasp until it was undone. You let Regulus remove the lace fabric and toss it to the ground. He smiled the moment that your bare breasts were visible to him.

“May I touch you?”

You nodded frantically as Regulus rubbed his thumb over your nipple before reaching out, taking the sensitive bud into his mouth.

“Reggie.”

You sighed his name, stroking his curls. Regulus groaned and lifted his hips enough to press himself against your core. You had quickly become aware of how hard he was with each thrust.

“Let’s get the rest of these clothes off.”

Regulus said as he began tugging at his tie and the buttons of his shirt. You, reluctantly, climbed off of his lap so he could finish undressing.

“Go ahead and lay back.”

He said softly. That overwhelming sense of nervousness returned. You swallowed as you gazed at Regulus’ body.

How is that going to fit inside of me?

You thought, nervously. At the moment, you were thankful that Lily and Marlene had told you what to expect the first time.

It won’t feel great at first. Burns like hell...but it will start feeling nice quickly if Regulus knows what he’s doing.

Regulus grabbed his wand and pointed it to your stomach to mutter a quick contraceptive charm. His eyes were all over your body before biting his bottom lip.

“I want to take my sweet precious time and have you begging for it. Put your legs up and spread them a bit.”

You quickly did as you were told as Regulus took his place between your spread legs. He leaned down for a quick kiss then kissed his way down your body. You sighed with each kiss but froze as he reached your belly button.

“Regulus, what are you doing?”

His eyes rolled up with a wicked little grin. He stroked his finger over your folds sending you into a wiggling moan.

“I want to kiss you here.”

His right hand stroked over your thigh.

“And here...I want to put love bites all over those pretty thighs.”

Where this Regulus came from you weren’t sure. This Regulus was more than sure of himself. Maybe you owed Ambrosia a thank you after all?

Regulus’ lips were on your thighs as he flipped his shaggy hair over his shoulder. In the candlelight of the room, his eyes seemed two shades darker. You fought back little moans as he peppered your thighs with butterfly kisses before finally biting down.

“Oh, Merlin!”

You squeaked as he sucked harshly at the tender skin of your thighs. Regulus smirked as he leaned back admiring his work. As far as he was concerned, you were about to be marked up for the rest of forever.

His eyes drifted to your core. From where Regulus sat, he could see that you were already glistening wet.

“Can I kiss you here?”

He asked, this time he pressed on your clit firmly with his thumb. Your hips involuntarily bucked as you nodded. Regulus slowly lay down on his stomach to continue his game of butterfly kisses on your mound. When you sighed in frustration his tongue finally made contact. You could have come apart but what he was going alone.

“Don’t come.”

Regulus ordered. You spent the next few moments hyper-focused on the ball of tension that was building with each swipe of his tongue.

“Reggie, please.”

You gasped.

“Regulus.”

He snapped. You smiled at the bossy tone of his voice and reached for his hair. Twirling your fingers in the silky strands, you couldn't help it. You came. Regulus quickly put his mouth back to you and helped you through your orgasm.

“That was beautiful.”

Regulus said with a happy smirk of approval before rising up.

“I’m pushing in now...just the tip at first. This may sting.”

Regulus’ voice was strained as he adjusted himself to your opening and slowly pushed inside. The moment that your body clenched around him; Regulus froze. He leaned down to feverishly kiss you.

“I’m sorry.”

He cooed. You shook your head.

“Just do it, please.”

You said through gritted teeth as each inch of his body pushed further inside. The full feeling didn’t ease up for a good moment either.

“Regulus, please.”

You cried. Regulus’ eyes were clenched shut.

“I’m about to come. Give me a moment.”

The two of you remained in the same position for a moment before Regulus nodded and shoved all the way in. You cried out from underneath him. Regulus quickly leaned down to kiss you gently.

“It's over, sweetheart. Tell me when you want me to move.”

You waited a moment longer as your body adjusted before raising your hips.

“Now, please move.”

Regulus quickly pulled out and eased back in. With each snap of his hips, you were again falling further and further over the edge.

“Coming.”

Regulus groaned through gritted teeth before sending both of you over the edge. Neither Regulus nor yourself wanted to move for a few moments. You lay lazily twirling your fingers in his sweat-drenched hair.

“Just so you know I can last longer than five minutes.”

Regulus said with a lazy smile. You giggled.

“I don’t doubt you.”

Regulus was the first to pull away. He reached for his wand and quickly cleaned up the mess that he left inside of you.

“This was a lot better than Slughorn’s Christmas party.”

You nodded, yawning as Regulus curled up beside you.

“Totally.”

____

@iamashlynmarie

@fairywriter-oracle

@brokencasbutt67-writer

@authoressskr

@fandom-trash-worth-it

@summer-novak

@hankypranky

@li0nh34rt

@tas898

@marichromatic

@maggioli-m

@shitfaceddaniel

@stuckinsaudi1

@knight-of-gleefulness

@shadows-and-padlocked-hearts

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captainscanadian · 4 years

Text

Hope | Bucky Barnes x Reader (Part 1)

My Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Summary: Being back in your childhood home had certainly brought you some well-needed inspiration.

Word Count: 2900+

Pairing: (Eventual) Doctor!Bucky Barnes x Patient!Reader, OMC Harry Nelson x FWB!Reader, Rebecca Barnes x OFC Rosie Bender

Warnings: Heartbreak, Bullying, Grey’s Anatomy Spoilers

A/N: This fic was my entry for @wkemeup‘s 4K Writing Challenge. I DON’T DO TAGLISTS!

When Harry Nelson had first moved to Los Angeles at the age of eighteen, he’d had many dreams of becoming a screenwriter and director. He wanted to make movies that seemed relatable to the general public, with no action sequences or elements of science-fiction, no monsters or magic, no million dollar budget to be spent on visual effects. Just simple stories about real people, whether it was the kind that made them laugh or the kind that made them cry.

Throughout the span of his twenty-year long career in Hollywood, he had come to realize that the genre of romance movies had their own built-in audience that he could definitely make money off of. The hopeless romantics, as he liked to call them, were a group of people who were always longing to see love stories that don’t necessarily end happily, but still leave them believing that true love existed.

While he had since directed several romance films that went on to have the cultural impact in the likes of Notting Hill and The Notebook, it hadn’t been until he had met another hopeless romantic did he realize that he was one of them. For a man who never believed in true love, he sure enjoyed love stories. He was a hopeless romantic, as much as he hated to admit it. Whether his story was going to end happily or not, he still had a part to play in it.

Back when the first instalment of the Hopeless series had turned out to be a success, Harry had simply approached you in request of the movie rights to your novel series. While you hadn’t given in to his request due to not knowing how you might even end the series yourself, he decided to play the long game and wait until you figured out the ending.

Years had gone by and the two of you had only become best friends, bonding over your mutual love for the romance genre. Many movie nights were spent watching the classics such as Casablanca and Breakfast at Tiffany’s. He had invited you to his premieres and parties, to simply take part in the discourse of what it meant to write a beautiful love story that stood beyond its time. But the friendship you shared had turned to something more when you had found yourselves drunk at an after-party and consumed by lust of all things and not love as one would have assumed.

Even though becoming one of the love interests in your story had certainly not been his plan all along, he couldn’t complain about it either. A newly single romance novelist and a divorced filmmaker with a knack for romance getting involved with each other was not the strangest thing to take place in Hollywood, not even when you had a ten year age difference. You had kept your arrangement as secretive as you could though, for you did not need the prying eyes of the media to ruin what you had.

By the time the third instalment had been published, no one had suspected that the muse behind Dr. Jake Winston was Harry Nelson himself. Harry had seemed to figure it out early on though, when you had let him have a glimpse of the first draft. But when he gave you his approval to go ahead with the story, you had made him promise you that he would play the role he helped create if your novels were ever made into movies. Harry had been delighted to accept that if he were to make his acting debut, it would be as one of the love interests of Hope Anderson.

Being the man who taught you what it felt like to be safe in a relationship, he had always given you a way out of your friendship with benefits. After all, the strings had never been attached to begin with. But that was a path you did not think you would want to take, at least not until now.

Not that the two of you had managed to drive each other crazy like most Hollywood couples. As unsurprising as that would have been, you felt that you really needed a break from living the California dream and that included what you had with Harry.

With the fourth and final instalment of your series being due in just a few more months, you found yourself hitting a brick wall with where you wanted Hope Anderson’s story to go. Writer’s block was a curse that you hadn’t really experienced with the last three novels. But inspiration for the fourth novel had just not struck.

You were well aware that your readers were longing for a happy ending for the girl who had spent a majority of her life being heartbroken. For a strong and career-driven woman like herself, she could easily find someone to settle down with. But that wasn’t what you wanted when it came to the ending of your series.

You wanted Hope to find some kind of purpose for the journey that she had taken since leaving her hometown for college. You wanted things to be right for her, even if they weren’t necessarily right for you. There needed to be a purpose behind her journey, that was meant to be fulfilled in the final book.

It had been Harry’s suggestion, being a fellow writer himself, that it might be plausible if the fourth novel took a rather ‘coming-of-age’ kind of path compared to the last three instalment. Reid made her realize that she had moved on too soon, Ethan made her realize that love was messy, and Jake made her realize that there are good men in this world. Neither of these men had been right for her, but then who was?

“I think our girl Hope needs to go home.” Harry had suggested one night in the midst of your pillow talk. “She hasn’t been home in ten years. I think she needs a little trip of self-discovery, a walk down memory lane… she needs to find herself in order to find her one true love.”

“What makes you think that she’ll find her true love when she finds herself?” You had asked him, curiously.

“There’s only one way to find out.”

The air was crisp as you stepped out of your Uber and grabbed your suitcases from the trunk, leaving a heavy tip for the driver at the end of this dreadfully quiet ride from Indianapolis International Airport to your humble home in Shelbyville, Indiana.

Being back in this little city after an entire decade in the West Coast sure brought back the good old days for a moment there. But when the cold breeze hit you, you were reminded why you had fled your hometown in the first place. Certainly, you had gotten used to the California sun. But who could blame you though? This place was hell on earth.

As you dragged your suitcases up the driveway, you could not help but look around the neighborhood that you had grown up in. It seemed as though nothing had changed in the last ten years. Or perhaps, it was just the nostalgia of being back here that made it seem as though everything was still the same when it wasn’t.

Old man Nick who lived next door still had his ratty old truck parked out front - was that thing still kicking; you couldn’t believe it. The last you heard, his daughters Carol and Maria had moved out to Indianapolis after college and visited the man every now and then. Apparently, he refused to leave Shelbyville as he had lived there his whole life. His wife had lived and died at that house, and he could not see himself leaving behind the memory of her.

The girls had asked your mother to keep an eye on him, and she had kept an eye on him because she seemed to be the only one in the neighborhood he trusted. Your mother had told you that they were bonding over their mutual empty nest syndrome, but not even her attempt to guilt trip you had brought you back here.

You hadn’t even bothered to come back here when you had found out that your mother was ill. You had flown her out to Los Angeles instead, and did the best you could to give her the medical care she needed at one of the best hospitals in the country.

Not even when she had passed away did you ever try to come back and take care of the house she’d left behind for you. You just hated everything about Shelbyville, Indiana, to ever come back.

But nothing like a little writer’s block to bring you back here.

You made a mental note to leave a rather sarcastic voicemail for Harry, for convincing you to fly out here on your own and facing a part of your life that you never wanted to return to. God, you hated him sometimes, mostly because he was always right and he seemed to know it. You loved him too. Not the kind of love that destroys you, but the kind that made you realize that you always deserved to feel loved by someone.

Truth be told, the house was not as bad as you had thought it would be. It just needed a little dusting and maybe a paint job, but it was still your childhood home in every way. Nick had kept it in good shape while you were gone, because your mother had asked him to take care of it in case you had ever thought about coming back home.

You thanked the man when he handed you the keys, and asked him if you could borrow his truck to run some errands later that day. You just needed to run into town to pick up some groceries and stop by the hardware store to grab some supplies.

In the meantime, you could use the quiet and the nostalgia to come up with the perfect plot for the final instalment of your novel series. Perhaps you could start off with Hope Anderson returning to her hometown due to her mother being ill, putting a pin on completing her residency and giving herself a break from her arrangement with Jake.

She spends hours on end sitting by her mother’s bedside, losing her hope as the days rolled by. And when her mother passes away, she copes with her loss by spring cleaning her childhood home and fixing it up.

*EDIT: 4th love interest?

You had written a few pages of your first draft when you finally decided to take a break, stretching your arms as you stepped away from your laptop on the dining table. You had been avoiding your childhood bedroom like the plague ever since you had arrived, claiming the master bedroom as yours for the duration of your stay.

But as you ascended up the creaky stairway and turned the corner to your childhood bedroom, you could have sworn that the last ten years had never gone by. The paint was chipping off of the cream colored walls, multiple posters of the Jonas Brothers pasted against them, never being taken down in your years away.

You recalled the time you’d had the chance to meet them following their comeback, as one of their wives had starred in one of Harry’s films. You may not have been an overly enthusiastic fangirl on the red carpet, but you were certainly proud of how far you had come from your childhood bedroom. The teenage girl who used to live in this room had clearly grown up, living every dream she’d always had… except one.

You walked over to the desk at the corner of your room, where the first few scenes of your Grey’s Anatomy fanfiction had been written. You had written more than one hundred thousand words about the undying love between Mark Sloan and Lexie Grey, as though they had never died after that plane crash, not even realizing that the basis of that story would eventually inspire the plot of your third novel. The attending and the resident with a significant age difference - God, could you ever be original with your own writing?

This was the room where you fell in love with writing, but writing was not the only thing you had fallen in love with at the time. On the bulletin board above your desk remained one photograph, being held together by a thumb tack.

You remembered the day after your high school graduation, when you had forcefully ripped out most of the photographs you had pinned to that bulletin board and chucked them in the trash bin, along with the feelings you had for the seventeen year old boy who was in those photographs with you.

A part of you wanted to rip up the last remaining photograph that still remained on that bulletin board, but the ten years you had been away had certainly suppressed the anger you felt towards him. So instead, you left that photo where it was and returned to your laptop, picking up your writing from where you had left off but the thought of him now lingering through your mind.

James Buchanan Barnes. Your best friend. Your first love. Your first heartbreak. The reason why Hope Anderson’s love life, and yours, had become hopeless in the first place. Perhaps the best way to end this story was to go back to the very beginning, to where it all had started, to the man who had been a part of her life before Jake, Ethan and Reid.

“Oh Harry, you son of a bitch!”

Dr. James Barnes let out a yawn as he eyed the CT scans in front of him, even though it was only the beginning of his twelve hour call shift. Only into the second year of his three year residency in emergency medicine, he was starting to familiarize with the intensity of his life as an emergency room physician. Sleepless nights were only the bare minimum.

Not that he could not handle the stress of running the ER one day, but Bucky was well aware that outside of the walls of Shelbyville Hospital, he did not have a life. No girlfriend to go home to, no hobbies to kill time with and no friends from outside of work to hang out with. Work, sleep, repeat… life was starting to get boring for the poor twenty-eight year old man.

“You look miserable.” Rosie Bender, the ER nurse on call and Bucky’s former classmate, remarked cheekily at her friend before she slipped into the seat next to him.

He shot her a fake smile as he set down his patient file back onto the rack, leaning back in his chair and looked over at the nurse. “I’m just bored as fuck, Rosie. As you can see, the ER’s pretty quiet tonight. I just want something to do.”

“If you’re so bored, you can help me make some calls. I have to finalize the number of people who are coming to this thing by the end of the week. The catering people have been asking for numbers… and don’t even get me started on picking the menu.”

For the woman who had been head of the Prom Committee back in senior year, planning their ten year reunion was supposed to be a piece of cake. But Rosie was struggling with juggling all of the responsibilities that came with planning this reunion, being the only who seemed to care so much about being able to reunite with some old friends from what had been the best four years of her life. Why did no one else care about this as much as she did?

Truth be told, Bucky could care any less about this so-called ten year reunion. He was well aware that the one person he would be hoping to see would never show up. You hadn’t even come back to town when your mother had gotten sick, let alone to this stupid reunion that was meant to be a remainder of your senior year - the memory that he had ruined for you by being so inconsiderate towards your feelings for him.

He could never forgive himself for what he had done to you, and to think that he would never have the chance to apologize to you in person. He fucked up, and he pushed away the one friend he had. If he could just see you one last time and tell you how sorry he was, Bucky would give anything. But he knew that all hope was lost on that, at least until Becca Barnes had come rushing into the ER.

He had just assumed that she was only dropping off some dinner for him and Rosie, but instead she looked over at the two of them with beaming eyes. “You two are not going to believe who I ran into at the hardware store just now...”

“Is old man Nick renovating the Y/L/Ns’ house again because he’s bored?” Rosie perked up at her girlfriend, giggling softly as she stood from her chair to lean over the desk and peck her lips.

“No, but close…” The younger Barnes chirped before she turned to her brother. “Y/N’s back in town.”

Perhaps, all of his hope was not lost after all.

#kas4kwc #hope #aj writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes au #doctor au #doctor!Bucky

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whenthetablesareturned · 3 years

Text

Don’t be my Valentine’s – A story by Lee Clearwater

“Are you planning on taking a shower before we leave or what Kid?” Banging my fist on his door before making my way down the stairs and into the kitchen. The morning had been no different to any other weekend start. I woke up at 5 am, worked out, had a quite breakfast, went on the morning run with the pups and now I was home, showered and set to go.

“If you don’t get your arse out of bed, I’m leaving without you.” I didn’t shout, neither of us really did. With our hearing, and #TheKids being ten times better than anyone in the pack. There was no need.

‘I’m up, and I will have you know I am showered too.’ Smirking I rolled my eyes.

“A wash cloth is not a shower! The ladies deserve a little better than a wash cloth this morning Kid.” I retorted. The sounds of his feet running out of his room and into the bathroom made me laugh.

✮ ✮ ✮ ✮

Once #TheKid was ready it didn’t take us long to head out, we made a few stops at all the stores Ma needed us to, as well as a few both #TheKid and I wanted too. One last stop at the diner meant we had food, then we were on our way. Taking my bike was always my go to, however I knew today wasn’t the day for two wheels, so the Kids truck was the vehicle of choice. And the fact that I was in the passenger seat, wasn’t amiss on him.

He drove us towards our destination this morning. “Slow down Kid, Ma may not have our hearing. However, the woman has a knack for knowing when you are driving too fast.” He took his foot off the gas right away.

‘I really don’t want to get myself a smack up the side of my head before she says Hi today.’ We were both laughing when we pulled up in the front of #MsTiffanyCall’s house. Ma’s car was on the drive right behind #MsCalls, and Emmy’s was gone.

‘Looks like we won’t be seeing @TheMakahWolf today, are you ready?’ #TheKid asked as the two of us jumped out, gathering the bags from the back of his truck.

“It depends what shift she is on.” I said looking around. I couldn’t pick up a fresh scent for her. “It’s a good thing, #LittleCall would eat us out of house and home. The Spirits I know we can all pack it away. However, that girl really can eat.” And there was something about that, which made me grin. She was something out of this world on the best of days. I bump my shoulder into his.

“And… Please I was born ready, you are the one who was two weeks late.” Winking at my kid brother. This was a story we were told at the eve of his birthday every year, and it never got old.

‘Not you too!’ #TheKid groaned and then laughed. He liked the story of how Ma and Da had to try things like eating spicy food, sleeping with her legs in the air, and then it was a pineapple! That was the last thing she’d tried, and he decided it was time to make an entrance.

“And you still eat pineapples like they will run out tomorrow, and your life wouldn’t be the same!”

The door opened with only one knock and the beautiful woman to greet us was an older version of her daughter. ‘My boys are here!’ She wrapped her arms around #Seth kissing his cheek, before letting #TheKid in, and then it was my turn. However, I got there first. Setting the bags down by my feet, I picked her up off the ground and twirled her around in the air. ‘Lee Peter Clearwater!’ She laughed with a girlish giggle hidden in there too. ‘Set me down, right this minute.’ But I knew she didn’t want me to. I kissed her cheek and only then did I set her down.

“Don’t go playing all hard to get with me now beautiful. You know you have been waiting for this face all morning.” Teasing her I kissed her cheek and pulled her into my side for proper hug.

‘Oh, I bet you say that to all the ladies.’ Her cheeks were red as she led the way to her kitchen.

The bags in my hands. “I do, but it’s only you and that daughter of yours who play hard to get.” I told her.

‘Lee Peter Clearwater.’ I heard my Ma’s voice making me grin. ‘Don’t you dare say anything about my Emmy, she is my heart.’ The look on Ma’s face made me laugh.

‘Hey! I thought I was your heart!’ #Seth chimed in, but he was teasing. It was a standing joke with the two friends, ( Well they were more like sisters. ). Ma would say she wanted a girl, and #Tiff would say she loved her daughter, but would steal me and #Seth too.

Setting the bags down, I moved over to hug my mother into my arms kissing her cheek. “You love me more, it’s all I care about.” Kissing her cheek again, before I stepped back glancing at the two women.

“As we had breakfast planned with Ma this morning, however she informed me by text her plans had changed.” Pointing over to #TheKid, “And we know you are working on your next big charity. But we all got to eat. So, instead of cancelling we come with food!”

#TheKid had already started to unpack, handing me one of the well-kept jars and took the other himself. He stepped up to Ma and gave her a kiss.

‘Happy Not a Valentines Ma, from the two of us.’

Our mothers’ eyes lit up, as I stepped over to #Tiffany and held out her jar.

‘Happy Not a Valentines beautiful, from the two of us.’

She took it from me as I kissed her cheek.

‘Oh boys, every year without fail.’ She hugged us both as we sat the two ladies down and started to serve them breakfast.

‘Please tell us that you both have plans tomorrow?’ #Tiff asked as we sat to eat. Both #Seth and I choked on our mouthfuls. #TheKid kicked me under the table and grinned. Rolling my eyes at him before replying.

“It’s clear you aren’t going to be my Valentine then?” She hit my arm. “Well, I’m going to have to ask your daughter I guess.” This earned me a hit over the side of my head from my Ma. “What? You keep saying you want her as a daughter!” Winking at her but the two mothers exchanged looks.

‘Now, you’ve done it.’ #TheKid sang popping some bacon in his mouth. ‘You gave them a plan they didn’t have before.’ He joked.

“Excuse me.” I told them all standing up to make like I was heading to the bathroom. It was time for a sharp exit from the kitchen and those eyes.

When I had come into the house, I left a bag to the side of the door, which I grabbed and then wondered off to @TheMakahWolf’s room.

Opening the door, I didn’t step inside. But placed the box with the single flower on it on her table. A Gift for her. It was a glass jar with small lights in it, with three music sheets rolled up and tired by Haley Klinkhammer.

1. Yours

2. Breaking Free

and 3. From Where I’m standing.

With a card reading: 𝒟𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒷𝑒 𝑀𝓎 𝒱𝒶𝓁𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈! ( By my forever )

I didn’t want her not to get something from us. #Tiffany and Emmy had always been kind to us. And it meant I’d not go without giving her something today. Closing the door before going to re-joining the others, with a plan to back pedal out of the hole I’d created.

#LeeClearwater #EmberlyCall #LeahClearwater #EmbryCall #GenderSwapped #Twilight #TwilightRP #TwiRP #AU #Stories #Solo

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feverinfeveroutfic · 3 years

Text

chapter thirty: blood on the dance floor

we’s gettin’ naughty here, gang. big ol’ smut warning~

That fine drizzle of rain welcomed the circus on the third day there in Seattle, such that Sam didn't want to return back to the Bay Area or to Catalina for that matter. Therein lay a feeling about the Emerald City that something was about to happen. Something huge and beyond what they all expected. The fact that she learned about Metallica touring there in the month before and the whole entire set being a literal flame only added to the feeling. A premonitory feeling that they were all upon a shift of a tide of some sort.

The next morning, as she slipped out of Joey's hotel room on the second floor and past Alex's room next door to the elevator, and she made her way down to breakfast, she overheard Anthrax speaking amongst themselves about it there in the lobby.

“Alright, gang—we've reached the end of the line,” Scott declared. “We're facing on a new decade after this. Who knows where we go from here, really.”

Even though he hadn't been there for his own band for a time, Sam couldn't help but feel that he was completely right. If Anthrax didn't get it after all the nonsense they had been through, Sam guessed that it would be Testament to take the reigns for the ride straight into the next decade, the Nineties. If not Testament, then the door was open for the Cherry Suicides. One of those three had to get it if Metallica hadn't already.

Only a few months left of the decade and it was officially anyone's guess from that point onward in the music world.

She sat there at Testament's table with her cup of coffee right before her: she set her fedora there on the seat next to her in anticipation of Alex showing up. If Joey showed up there in the lobby first, she would have to run over to Anthrax's table on the other side of the room. But she had faith that Alex was coming, however.

All the while, she sat there next to Greg who appeared to be growing the first beginnings of a beard. Every so often, he showed her a little glimpse with a raise of his eyebrow.

She still owed it to him, but she was really doing it to settle the bet with Alex.

If she did it with Greg, Alex had to be there right before them, just to punish him for being such a bad boy. It seemed unlike her to think these things but she was in the thick of it all, right within the heart of it all.

She moved her fedora out of the way once she recognized that little plume of silvery gray in the doorway.

He showed her a little smile as he took his seat there, and she eyed his little black button up shirt, the lapels of which were covered in slight little wrinkles and a bit of dust.

“Is that new?” she asked him.

“Jesus, Alex, there has to be an iron in your room of some sort,” Louie said from her left.

“I dunno if there is, though,” Alex confessed with a shrug of his shoulders.

“C'mon, you dusty boy,” she encouraged him, and Eric and Belinda both chuckled at that.

“Dusty?” Alex laughed himself.

“Yeah, dusty—” She brushed off the shoulders of his shirt. “You're all dusty and messy and slovenly.”

“I ain't slovenly,” he insisted.

“Shut up and drink your medicine,” she teased him as Chuck passed a little white cup of coffee past Tiffany and Louie, and across the table over to him. Alex picked it up without a moment's hesitation and took a hearty swig of it.

“Medicine indeed,” he noted.

“So—Souls of Black,” Chuck declared, “I hope we can actually do this and get on Clash of the Titans. If we get it, I foresee us being on top of the world afterwards.”

“Who else is on the bill?” Eric asked him with his eyebrows knitted together. “You told me just a little bit ago and I can't—for the life of me—remember it.”

Sam giggled at him and he showed her a smile.

“Brain's fried from touring,” Greg cracked as he took a sip from his coffee.

“Megadeth is gonna be there—and I think Anthrax, too? Someone else will be there, too, I forget who, though—so that leaves one spot wide open. I hope we get it good.”

Sam pictured them on the same bill with Anthrax and Megadeth, and with Joey and Alex jamming together on the same stage. One could only hope, and she could only hope for herself. If it happened, she had faith that the two of them could look at one another in the eye and not feel a need to kill each other.

If there was one drawback with that whole tour for both Practice What You Preach and State of Euphoria, it was the fact that the two of them never seemed to be in the same room together, as if they did that all on purpose. Joey always hung out in his room and Alex always did as well. If Testament got that final slot for Clash of the Titans, then they had to have a reconciliation of some sort.

It would be the Nineties at that point anyways.

To leave behind the old decade in favor of a new one seemed perfect to bury the hatchet between the two of them. It just made perfect sense as they would be given a big reset button. If they buried the hatchet, then she wouldn't have to sneak around as much with Testament. But then again, if that happened, she probably wouldn't see Alex as much in the meantime. She would have to return to Joey and give all the love in the world.

That is if Alex's hand on her knee underneath the table and out of everyone's sight had anything about it. She jerked her knee inwards but his expression never changed for a second. She glanced down at his hand there in between their knees: his fingers bent a bit as if he was ready to touch her again.

Eric made a joke about undoing Belinda's bra right there when Sam felt his fingers once again.

During the whole road trip up from the most southern tip of Los Angeles to Lake Tahoe, not once did he employ that trick on her. But then again, they were both alone on that trip: here they were with the rest of the band as well as Belinda and Tiffany. His pinky and ring fingers caressed over her knee, and she nibbled on her bottom lip at the feeling there. It was amazing to her that he could do that without the ceiling lights reflecting so much on his watch face.

She wondered what he wanted.

But then again, Greg was right there.

She still had to do it with him.

She still had to settle that bet.

Alex was still a bad boy for thinking these things.

That cool demeanor hid something and she had cracked into it by some black magic. She nibbled on her bottom lip again as his middle and index fingers joined onto her knee right then. She thought about the drink he had mentioned before, the virgin screaming orgasm. A part of her wanted him to have a full on screaming orgasm right then for touching her with everyone there and for giving her such a bet to sleep with Greg.

“Alex—a word?” she offered him once she polished off her cup of coffee.

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing,” he confessed. He slid out of there first and allowed her to put her hat back onto her head.

Sam led him over to the front doors where it was pouring rain outside. Once she ducked around the corner and he followed suit right behind her, she turned around and put her hand right on the crotch of his jeans and fondled him there. She leaned into his face and put her lips to his; he jerked back and looked on at her, baffled.

“You're a bad, bad boy,” she taunted him in a hushed voice.

“Thought I was a good boy?” he recalled with a shake of his head. She gripped harder on his crotch: he wasn't firm, but she could feel him in there.

“You're a bad boy and you ain't getting your milk and cookies for it,” she teased him, to which he pouted his bottom lip at her.

“Please?” he begged her with a little tilt of his head.

“You ain't getting it,” she scoffed at him.

“I want my milk and cookies, though,” he begged her.

“You'll get your milk and cookies when you behave,” she insisted.

“How do I behave?” he asked her. She gripped even harder on him. “Ow—ow—ow—”

“What's the matter?” she teased him.

“It hurts—”

She loosened her grip and stroked him with the pad of her thumb.

“Come on—” she encouraged him to the closet right behind her. Just like with Cliff, except this time it was in a hotel rather than the subway.

They slipped inside of that cramped closet and he closed the door part of the way. Through the darkness, she held onto him once again, that time with more force. He groaned in pain from the feeling.

“Ow—ow, Samantha—Samantha—you're hurting me—”

“You like a little pain, though, don't you?”

“I do—just not this much, though.”

She let go and then slipped her hand down his jeans.

“You're a bad boy,” she whispered to him: the edges of her nails grazed against his skin just a bit, enough to bring a soft groan from the inside of his throat. She pressed her fingers a bit harder on his skin. “You're a bad boy—trying to get me to get down with Greg,”

“Oh, shit,” he breathed out, and he snickered at that.

“Bad, bad, bad boy—I ought to just bite you right now.”

“Why you wanna bite everything, Samantha,” he scoffed. “Bite everything and hurt me.”

“'Cause you're a bad boy.”

“You call me a bad boy again I'm not gonna give you your milk.”

“Oh, you're really bad for that.” She held onto him and squeezed him extra hard. He showed her his tongue and he pinched his eyes closed. She moved her chest closer to his so her breasts brushed against him. He gave her a soft pained whimper as a result. She kept her mouth closer to his, but she never touched him or kissed him for a second.

Alex shuddered a bit at the feeling between his legs. Sam ran her tongue along her bottom lip as she felt something wet on her finger.

“I thought you said you weren't going to give me any milk,” she whispered to him.

“Hurt me,” he begged her in a little whisper. “Hurt me for that—god, please—do it. Do it!”

She dug her nails into his skin a little bit, but it was enough to coax a gasp out of him. He pinched his eyes shut and he parted his lips as if he beckoned a kiss from her.

But she resisted. She need not give that to him as of yet.

“What are you,” she whispered to him.

“I—” he breathed, and his chest heaved from the feeling. “I—I—”

“What are you,” she insisted, still with her voice low.

“I—oh, god—Samantha—”

“What are you,” she breathed right into his parted lips.

“A bad motherfucker,” he blurted out in a husky voice, and she paid him with a delicate kiss right on the lips.

“What are you,” she breathed again: she held onto him so tight that even in the dim light, she could see his face turned bright pink.

“A bad motherfucker,” he repeated, and she did it again.

“For real, though—what are you?”

“A bad, bad boy who wants his milk and cookies from his mama,” he pleaded to her.

“Oh, you'll get it,” she vowed. “You'll get it when the time is right.”

“Isn't the time right now?” he asked her in a small voice.

“You need your cookies, though. Can't have either one without the other.”

“I'm gonna get so fat hanging out with you...” His voice was mellow and husky, as low as she had ever heard it before.

“I'll keep you going, baby,” she vowed to him in a light airy whisper. She put her other hand down his pants for the second part. Alex closed his mouth as she fondled him in the space right between his thighs, right there in the darkness like she did with Cliff. He tilted his head back and groaned in his throat at the feeling.

“Swear to god, you're gonna make me come right in my jeans,” he moaned in a pained whimper.

“You should have,” she told him.

He whimpered through his gritted teeth. She felt his hand move up her back towards the hooks on her bra, and she wagged a finger at him.

“Don't you dare,” she teased him.

“Why can't I?”

“Don't you dare!” she teased him again and she giggled at him.

“But—but—”

“Don't—”

“Sam? Alex?” Tiffany's voice floated in right then.

“God damn it!” Sam groaned.

“Just as I was starting to feel better,” he said, still in a husky voice, albeit one that was a bit lower so she wouldn't hear them. “Pick up where we left off later on.”

“Deal, baby.” She put her lips to his one more time before they bowed out of there. Tiffany had disappeared around the corner but Alex straightened out his shirt and that was enough for Sam to put on a scene for when she came back there. Even though Alex came in his pants, she didn't get any of it on her hands.

“God—such messy boys!” she declared as Tiffany returned to them in the opposite direction.

“Oh, there you guys are! Breakfast is ready.”

Alex let out a low whistle as he tugged down his shirt over his belt and the button on his jeans, which was undone for the entirety of breakfast. Joey still hadn't gotten up at that point, either: Scott, Dan, Frank, and Charlie all congregated around that table all by themselves on the far side of the room. Sam paid hardly any attention to the conversation at the table before her as she looked on at them.

She thought of going up to Joey's room and waking him up with her lips around him, but then again, his door might have been locked at that point. There was no way she could do it with him even if she could. Alex said something about Sam herself right then, but she still paid more attention to the table on the other side of the room.

“We've got to record that album, though,” Chuck pointed out.

“Samantha wants to go there, though,” Alex insisted.

“Don't even know if it's open, though, Alex,” Tiffany joined in. “It is Saturday after all.”

Sam herself turned to them with the tines of her forks nestled in her lips.

“Talking about the sound garden,” Louie explained from across the table.

“Tell you what—if there's time over Thanksgiving, we'll come on back up here,” Chuck concluded.

“You'd do that?” Sam asked him, and he nodded his head at that.

“Aw, Chuck, you're too kind.”

Since it was their final day there in Seattle, Sam decided to hang out with them all the way until they landed in San Francisco together. She would head on back to her father's house and sleep there for a long time given the sheer extent of the tour and she wasn't in school, either. But there was still one thing that she had to do before they did anything more.

And both Alex and Greg knew it themselves.

Indeed, once they had cleaned their plates, she put her fedora back onto her head and Alex led her back to his room, complete with a gesture to Greg to join them. But he lingered back for Chuck and Tiffany, however. As a result, Sam and Alex awaited them there at the elevator doors: she eyed the slight curve underneath his shirt and she wondered if it came from all of the ginger snaps or just from eating a hearty breakfast, but he looked good with it there. He tucked his thumbs into his belt loops and gave his lush dark hair a little toss back with a flick of his head.

“Man, you look—so utterly gorgeous right now, Alex,” Sam noted. “Really gorgeous.”

“You think so?”

“Absolutely—decadent—” She lowered her gaze from his chest to his stomach and then his hips and his legs. “Absolutely gorgeous, my sweet friend.” She flashed him a wink and he returned the favor with a mischievous little smile: the smile disappeared when something behind her caught his attention. She turned and followed his gaze to the tall guy on the other side of the hall there with a diaper bag over his shoulder. She kept her eye on the thick dense mop of dark curls upon his head as well as his straight nose and the cupid's bow in his mouth.

“God, where's my wife,” he muttered, and then he looked on at Alex.

“You that guy who threw a jug of cider at Scott last night?” he demanded.

“Yeah, 'cause they sucked,” the guy sneered at him: he was tall, taller than Alex who was rather big himself, and made Sam feel rather minute in comparison.

“You must be that little brat from the Bay Area,” he scoffed.

“Me?” Alex chuckled.

“I've seen you up by the sound garden,” he said in a singsong voice. “And I've seen you at that theater, too. Total brat.”

“Yeah, like you would know,” Alex laughed at him.

“You guys are such rock stars,” he spat back.

“We ain't rock stars,” Alex insisted. “If you knew anything 'bout us, you would know that we're not rock stars. We're just a bunch of guys who happen to play rock n' roll.”

“Rock n' roll if it was on a butt,” said the guy, and Alex rolled his eyes at that.

“They're not rock stars,” Sam joined in right then. “Poison are rock stars. Led Zeppelin are rock stars. And not to mention, you say that like it's a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” he said to her with a little gyration of his head, “it's all hollow and soulless.”

The elevator doors slid open and he brushed past them both without pardoning himself, and he closed the doors before anyone else could stop him. Alex looked over at Sam with a disgusted look on his face.

“Had to have been the rudest person up here in Seattle so far,” he told her: for a second, he raised his gaze to right behind her again. “Everyone up here has been real nice to us all so far.”

“Wow, what a prick,” Chuck declared from right behind Sam. Alex sidled closer to her so he was out of the way of the elevator.

“Called us 'butt rock', too,” he remarked as he smoothed the front of his shirt once more, “—whatever the hell that even means.”

“Joke's on him, though—you guys are butt rock,” Sam pointed out and she slapped Alex right on the seat of his pants.

“We're more like booty rock,” Louie joked.

“Ass and titty rock!” Chuck joined in and they burst out laughing.

“Vagina rock,” Alex said under his breath, and Sam slapped him on the seat of his pants again.

“Stop spanking me!” he exclaimed, and the whole room froze right then.

“What?” Chuck couldn't keep a straight face upon saying that.

“—is what she said—in her sleep last night,” Alex stammered with a gesture over to Sam; all the while, his face turned bright pink with embarrassment and Sam chuckled at that.

“Dreaming about literal butts last night, Sam?” Eric teased her.

“Literal butts with a nice sheen on 'em,” she went along with it. “A nice sheen for a nice seat on the rock in question.”

Alex and Eric laughed at that; the former then gestured for Greg to follow them into his room there next to the elevator.

“Oh, yeah, that's right! I was gonna help you guys.” He raised his eyebrows upon his saying that.

“Help with butts?” Eric joked.

“Help with butts, yes!” Sam cracked back, and she bowed back into Alex's room with him and Greg both. She kept the door ajar behind her by about a half of an inch; she turned to the table underneath the mirror and she spotted a bottle of tomato juice next to a bottle of vodka and a high glass.

“Bloody Maries, Alex?” Greg joked as he took his seat there on the edge of the bed.

“Yes!” Alex exclaimed. “'Cause it puts hair on your chest. Let's see—the bartender told me how to do it... you guys get yourselves ready in the meantime.”

Sam turned to Greg and the warmth crossed her face as a result.

“He told you, didn't he?” she said.

“I never forgot!” he admitted.

“So you wanna—do this on the bed or the floor?”

“Whatever makes you most comfortable,” he said as he leaned back on the bed. There was a clinking of Alex's glass and he stirred his Bloody Mary.

“I'll watch,” he announced as he put his feet up.

“What!” Sam demanded, mortified.

“I wanna watch,” Alex repeated, nonplussed. “I wanna watch you guys do it. I am a bad boy, after all.”

Sam turned to Greg who raised his eyebrows at her. She hoped that his incoming beard was freshly trimmed as she reclined back on her elbows.

“Well—Frankie and I did watch Charlie and Marla perform oral when they were together,” she recalled, and Alex almost gagged on his drink at that.

“That wasn't you, that was the booze, I swear,” he promised her with his head bowed a bit. “Bit of extra pepper on that...”

Sam turned to Greg, who undid his jeans for her. She peeled off her top and she climbed on top of him. He smelled of French toast and cologne.

“C'mere, Greggy—” she beckoned him. She pressed her hands on either side of his face and she put her lips onto his and he was quick to set his hands on her back and unhook her. Her bra slid down her arms so he was face to face with her chest. The strap nearly caught on the fire opal bracelet that Chuck gave her but she shook her hand about to rid of it.

“Right there—right there—right on my tit—right there! Yes!”

“Should I use my teeth?” Greg asked her.

“Do it, Greg!” Alex cheered him on from the other side of the room.

A bit of nibbling from him: the first bristles of his beard grazed against her skin, such that it tickled her.

“Lemme get you below the equator,” he begged her with a twinkle in his eye.

“As long as I can get you below the equator,” she retorted.

“You dare me to do it? 'Cause I dare you to do it.”

“Dare to!” Alex cheered her on in a hushed voice.

“Gladly!” Sam said, triumphant over both princes. She let Greg caress over her breasts some more with those callused bass player fingers: long and lanky much like Alex's fingers. The rough skin tickled her more than those first sprigs of hair on his face. The thought of it against the skin between her legs tickled her a bit.

She leaned back towards his belt and she undid the buckle for him. She glanced up at Alex, who sipped on his Bloody Mary through a straw with his eyes hooded and his face blank. He then flashed her a wink; meanwhile, between her legs, Greg undid her jeans for her.

She kept her eyes locked on Alex as she put her lips around Greg's head. She wondered if a little deep into her throat would get Alex going, or perhaps the vodka in that Bloody Mary would do the job better than she ever would.

That smooth velvet tongue caressed over her and the hair that made up his beard brushed against her skin and it made her gasp. But she continued on with the job. She kept her eyes locked on Alex's face as she sank further down towards Greg's body.

“A little blood for your popsicle there?” Alex offered her at one point.

“Joey can never know about this,” she proclaimed as she kept her tongue around that erection.

“What if I knock you up, though?” Greg asked her.

“You ain't knocking me up, Greggy,” she pointed out, “not with the way you licked me just then.”

She gasped when he touched that little bundle of nerves at the way back there. That spot that Joey knew how to touch so well. But Greg was touching it.

Greg was touching it and Alex was watching them all the while: and the only thought that swam through her mind was where they would go from there. She was about to get off right then and there, all from Greg running those fingers on her clit. She was about to get off and also get off: she rolled right off of him onto the foot of the bed, out of breath and with her mouth filled with his taste as well.

She rolled her head over at Alex, who flashed her a wink. Completely naked, she sat upright and strolled over to him.

“We've got our very own stripper, Alex,” Greg pointed out as Sam leaned forward into Alex's face. That drink was already getting to him a bit.

“You smell like tomatoes,” she told him as she ran her fingers through his hair.

“I'm spicy,” he said.

“You cheeky bastard.”

“I'm spicy!”

She took a seat on his lap and she put her bare breasts right up into his face. Alex raised his eyebrows at those tight nipples.

“Do I owe you anything, Alex?” she teased him.

“Do you owe me anything? No?”

“I feel like I owe you something, though.”

“You don't, though.”

“What if I do?”

“You don't, Samantha, I promise.”

She eyed the crotch of his jeans.

“Don't even think about it,” he nudged her off.

“I'm thinking about it,” she said.

“Yeah, she's definitely thinking about it, Alex,” Greg added from behind them.

“Bloody Mary and blood on your denim—bad boys need a little lap dance before they get their milk and cookies.”

Greg cackled at that as Sam lifted up and ran her bare ass across Alex's lap.

“Yeah, you like a li'l blood on the dance floor, don't ya?” Alex teased her.

“More blood to paint with, of course,” she retorted as she took a seat on his lap: she could feel him having risen up right underneath her. He took another sip of Bloody Mary with a hooded look to those deep eyes.

“I see you turning into a little fat rat,” she teased him.

“Little fat rat—little fat rat with his hair all over the place,” he retorted, and then he shrugged.

“Why'd you shrug?”

“'Cause I could,” he replied in a broken voice. She stood up from his lap and then he stood up. With his free hand, Alex undid the buttons on his shirt and showed off his hips to her. Sam set her hand there just to feel him.

“Nice curves, Alejandro,” she teased him.

“Nice curves... says the girl with the nice full curves,” he breathed out; Greg was still right there behind them. She stooped over for another vampire bite on Alex's skin. She stroked him first with her fingers and then nibbled on him.

“Imagine me as a little fat rat and you're doing this to me,” he said, and she ran her tongue over the spot to which he writhed about a bit.

“Does that tickle?” she teased him.

“You have no idea,” he said.

A pinch and a poke, a nibble and a lick, and then she rounded it out with a few little kisses. Alex once again had another little bruise on his belly, right above his belt. The mark of the mistress.

Alex finished the rest of his Bloody Mary and then he checked his watch.

“We better get going,” he told them. “Don't wanna miss that plane.”

Sam ran her fingers through her dark hair and then she turned to Greg, who had put on her bra over his still clothed body.

“Greg—Greg, why are you wearing my bra?” she asked him in a broken voice.

“Why the hell not?” he blurted out as he tossed her panties to her. Her jeans still lay on the side of the bed right next to him. Sam raised an eyebrow at him and the pale washed out tone to his skin.

“You better not get any puke on that thing or I'm going to—literally kill you.”

“Kill him after you blew each other into next week,” Alex muttered under his breath.

“That's hot,” Greg added to that, but Sam rolled her eyes at that as she put her panties back on, followed by her pants.

And the whole entire time, she kept her shoes on.

2 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

End of the Day (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley

A/N: The plan was simple. All Crystal had to do was pretend to be her twin for one week: sit silently in seminars, only leave her room for her basic necessities and stick closely to the set of rules she was left with. Only the rule that stated she “mustn’t bother the bitch from downstairs” became a lot harder for Crystal to follow once she had laid eyes on Gigi Goode.

Hope you guys like this!! Think of it as Breakfast at Tiffany’s meets She’s the Man only at a Russell Group where there’s a stereotype around every corner. Sending infinite thank you’s to Meggie for being a fab beta. p.s thanks so much for all the lovely feedback for Everything Has Changed (I could have cried reading some of it)…xoxo Ashley.

“No way.” Crystal dropped the pencil she toyed with, a laugh squeaking out of her throat at her sister’s audacity.

“It’s only a week,” she pleaded over the phone, the voice that had convinced Crystal to do stupid things since they were children making its reappearance.

“You seriously want me to pretend to be you just so you can jet off to Majorca to see that creep?”

“Yes!” Elle ignored Crystal’s clear disdain. “That is exactly what I want. We used to do it all the time in school.”

“You’re crazy, actually insane.”

Crystal was used to her sister’s wild antics, but this plot may have been a step too far.

“But you love me.”

“I hate you.”

“It’s not like you have any plans.” Elle held no hesitation in poking the bear - the boundaries between the two twins almost non-existent.

“I have Depop orders actually,” Crystal snapped back, a tiny part of resentment that her sister was attending one of the best universities in the country whilst she was sitting at home making jewellery rising inside of her body but not quite breaking the surface.

“£200.”

Crystal stopped in her tracks - now she was listening.

“It won’t work anyway, people will notice!”

“They won’t. I don’t speak to anyone in my college anyway and my course friends won’t say anything, just stay in bed all day once you’ve been to my seminars. I’ll even give you my Disney+ password.”

A hint of worry rose in Crystal’s mind; she wondered how her more outgoing other half had managed to go to university and not make friends in her accommodation. Where Crystal was shy and nervous throughout the entirety of her education, Elle had never been afraid to put herself out there, always surrounded by one group of pretty girls or another. “So what am I supposed to do in these seminars then? It’s not like I have an extensive knowledge of anthropology is it?”

“All you have to do is sign in and sit there pretending to type - they don’t even pick on you I swear. And it’s the last week before we break up so everyone will be really chill.”

“£300,” Crystal responded, the idea of escaping the four walls of her bedroom whilst making three months of her usual income beginning to tempt her, cursing internally at how easily convinced she was.

“I can’t give you £300.” Crystal could hear that her sister was talking through a grin despite not being able to see her face, the grin that meant she’d won.

“Well, you can’t go to Majorca then.”

“Three hundred pounds it is,” Elle agreed. “But you better get me a decent Christmas present.”

“Deal,” Crystal responded, knowing she had already purchased her sister’s gift two months prior. “Now, tell me absolutely everything I need to know about collegiate life.”

“It’s a good job. I knew you’d say yes and already planned this part out.” Elle beamed, proud at her ability to convince her timid younger-by-ten-minutes sister to do almost anything.

***

If secondary school was supposed to be a jungle of cliques, then Elle’s college may as well have been the Amazon rainforest.

Walking through the incredibly hard to find dining hall for breakfast, Crystal could make out almost every university stereotype she could think of, each confined to their own special hold.

From the druggies to the athletes, to the Oxbridge rejects, to the girls who borrowed daddy’s credit card - they were all there and thriving. A small part of Crystal wanted to go and sit with who she decided were the artsy girls despite knowing her sister wouldn’t be caught dead doing so.

Trying not to draw attention to herself, she kept her head down as she made it to the front of the queue, Elle’s clear step-by-step of how she approached meals playing through her head on repeat, the weeks of planning for this moment all coming into play.

Only at that moment, she panicked, the child’s paint by numbers that were her instructions started to turn into a set of IKEA diagrams without captions in her brain. Wishing she’d stuck to eating a pot noodle in her sister’s room, Crystal’s body froze in a state of fear after dolloping a ladle of baked beans onto her toast. A tonne (or maybe ten tonnes) of bricks smacked her right between the eyes. She knew she wouldn’t be able to pull this off. The lack of self-confidence she always battled with ran thick through her veins, her thoughts turning to ways she could go home and return to the comfort of her hometown, willing to sacrifice her sister’s already flagged attendance and the three hundred pounds to be watching Bake Off with her mam in the kitchen.

It almost happened in slow motion, time losing its speed as the boy behind her walked into Crystal’s back, propelling her tray forward onto an unsuspecting blonde. An unsuspecting blonde who seemed the opposite of dumb.

“What the fuck?” She snapped her head around to Crystal, thick brows furrowed and pink lips pursed.

“I’m sorr-” Crystal started, beating herself up internally at how she had managed to do the exact opposite of laying low despite being only one night into her weeklong mission.

“This won’t come out!” The girl started turning her neck frantically to the back of her shirt, the white satin stained bright orange.

Her mouth opening but no words coming out, Crystal didn’t have a chance to apologise again before the girl had a swarm of minions dabbing her back with tissues.

“It’ll be okay, G.” One of them took her hand. Crystal wanted to burst out in tears like she usually did at the smallest sign of conflict, pinching the skin on the back of her hand and looking at the white ceiling lights to stop herself.

“So long as people look where they’re going.” The girl, G, cast a terrifying yet beautiful scowl in Crystal’s direction before sauntering away.

So much for laying low, she sighed before leaving the queue herself, her body tingling as if she’d hit her funny bone over a dozen times. The girl’s stare still imprinted in the back of her eyes.

Having narrowly avoided a panic attack, Crystal thought hard about her old coping mechanisms and tried her best to remain positive as she did after these situations, sitting down at an empty table and giving herself a pat on the back that she had at least passed as Elle without any doubts, ready to take the rest of her day by storm (also known as sitting in silence and occasionally nodding her head as a bunch of middle ages men discuss human evolution and diversity).

***

Having achieved three B grades by the end of sixth form and the award for ‘most creative’ in their final assembly, Crystal always thought of herself as somewhat intelligent and capable of living in the real world despite her decision not to go to university like her sister.

Yet there she stood, her face in a scowl and her fist in a ball, completely and utterly perplexed by the laundry system.

After sleeping in her sister’s dirty sheets the night before, she had arrived back to the college with hopes of resting her head on a pillow that wasn’t mascara stained and washing her face with a flannel sans toothpaste blobs (which was basic hygiene in Crystal’s opinion, but she hadn’t expected anything more from her twin). Only those dreams were temporarily dashed as she spent an entire thirty minutes pressing buttons and swiping the card Elle had left her manically against an aged machine.

Thirty-six internet searches and two desperate phone calls to her sister later, Crystal was beaming at the sheets swirling around, not a care in the world at how much of a psychopath she would look to anyone entering the room, the stress she had previously faced in getting the machine to work inducing her to stay and wait for the clothes to wash instead of leaving them like normal practice.

Elle had seemed happy on the phone, gushing to Crystal about how tanned she’d gotten in such a short space of time and how delicious all the food was - Crystal shutting her down quickly by reminding her that such a tan would only alert their mother to the fact she’d spent a week abroad visiting the sleazy holiday rep she’d fallen in love with that summer rather than in the brown-bricked, straight from a horror movie, sixties’ style complex that Crystal was currently residing in.

Crystal made a mental note to text her mam later and tell her how much she was enjoying her time “visiting her sister” - knowing fine well that talking to her on the phone would probably cause her to crumble and confess their scheme.

She had always been a family orientated person, always choosing a night in the house watching movies over playing out with friends, crying buckets the day her sister moved out and started a new chapter of her life without her. It was clear her mother wanted her to get out into the world, knowing she was capable of more than selling jewellery online, but unlike her sister, Crystal wasn’t quite ready to leave her home yet, needing that extra push to get her feet moving that just hadn’t come her way yet.

She figured that spending a week pretending to be her sister may actually be a good start.

Lost away with her head in the clouds like usual, Crystal was snapped back to surface level as her phone chimed to signal the end of the cycle, only to find herself even more frustrated when she realised that no dryers were free.

Today really hadn’t been her day.

She personally blamed the lack of lucky necklace around her neck (Elle telling her specifically during their planning stages that she would never wear such a monstrosity and Crystal following suit despite knowing it was only entrenched in their rules because her sister thought it was ugly). Her secret superstitious side kicking in, she thanked herself for bringing some of her jewellery making gadgets with her, figuring she’d have to make her own version of it, for now, it wasn’t as if she had any better way to spend her evening.

Seeing a dryer with two minutes left until it timed out, Crystal figured she’d simply wait until it had been emptied to use it, allowing her brain to return back to Pinterest for a short period of time.

But ten minutes passed and no one came to empty the machine.

She glanced at the other piles of clothes that lay on top of the machines, figuring it was normal to remove other people’s when none were free, the thought of her sheets staying wet and crinkled making her feel uneasy.

Opening the dryer, she was hit immediately by a waft of lavender, reassuring herself that it was okay to move the clothes and feeling almost proud of herself for making a leap the old Crystal would have ran from in fear of awkwardness.

Being her most careful, she picked the clothes one by one and started to fold them, her brain subconsciously admiring the mystery tartan-wearer’s sense of fashion and wishing she had the confidence to wear some of the outfits. That was when her hands met a satin blouse, a familiar satin blouse with an orange tinge on its white back.

Before she had time to process that the clothes she was moving belonged to the pretty girl from breakfast, Crystal’s train of thought was interrupted by the devil herself.

“Admiring your handiwork?” She strutted over and snatched the shirt back from Crystal’s hands.

Crystal couldn’t quite place her accent but she knew it was Southern. Her overactive imagination hearing the girl whisper dirty thoughts to her in that posh voice without being able to stop herself.

Oh, fuck.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal turned to her, not even attempting to act like anything other than the soft wimp she was inside. “I didn’t mean to.”

Crystal looked into the girl’s eyes, almost seeing her melt a little before her.

She felt the tension between them, dense and heavy in the air.

“It’s fine,” the blonde responded, losing the passive-aggressive tone she’d carried beforehand but still not sounding entirely sincere as she began to throw her clothes into her hamper.

Crystal couldn’t help but gawk a little as she began to strut away, her body swishing like a model’s as she made her way out of the room, pausing for a second at the door.

“Can you do me a favour, though?” the girl called back to Crystal.

‘I think I’d give both of my kidneys to you’ Crystal thought. Only it instead came out as an awkwardly stuttered, “Erm, sure.”

“Turn your music down, please.” She shot a sarcastic smile in Crystal’s direction. Crystal felt it burrow straight through her chest cavity and into her fast-beating heart. “I know that anthropology may be a bit simpler than most degrees, but some of us really struggle to work when all they can hear is your shit music directly above them.”

Her mouth dropping open to catch flies as the girl left the room for good, a pang of realisation hit Crystal.

Opening her phone and flicking through the dramatic guide to her sister’s university life that was now saved at the top of her notes, she found what she’d been looking for:

“12. DO NOT, under any circumstances, bother the bitch downstairs.”

Too late, Crystal thought to herself, wondering how many more of her sister’s rules she would have broken by the end of the week.

***

Crystal would be lying if she said she hadn’t been watching out for the blonde that week, whose name she had figured out (after an intensive Facebook stalking session) to be Gigi.

Yes, she was lying low, not leaving Elle’s room other than for seminars and to eat - but that didn’t stop her from taking stolen glances at the girl across the dining hall or walking up that second flight of stairs to the room just a fraction slower than she did the first flight.

Three days at university and she’d somehow turned back into a fourteen-year-old girl fantasising about the most popular girl in the class.

Except this time, the popular girl didn’t even know her real name.

She felt like Tracy from Hairspray - one look and she could hear the wedding bells playing in the back of her head.

But at the same time, Crystal knew what was at stake - leaving their interactions to intense eye contact and mumbled “excuse mes,” knowing that even speaking to Gigi again could blow her entire cover.

Yet, she somehow managed to do exactly that on Wednesday night. Or, technically, the early hours of Thursday morning.

At first, Crystal tried to ignore the argument below her, drowning out their voices with her headphones (partly because she felt like she was intruding and partly because listening to people screaming at each other, like a lot of things, made her cry). However, as the war below was still awaiting a cease-fire, snippets of conversation slid their way into the room.

“Why do you have to do this on every night out?”

“I just want what’s best for you.”

“You don’t know what’s best for me.”

She could hear the pain in Gigi’s voice heighten right before her door slammed, Crystal wincing in bed at the sound.

Expecting to hear male footsteps stomp away, Crystal was surprised to instead hear lighter ones, making their way up the stairs and past her landing, a muffled sob travelling through her door.

Looking out of the window, she squinted in the dark until she saw the red glow of a cigarette from their fire escape, the hum of an unfamiliar tune making its way through the thin walls.

She knew it was a risk, but it was one that Crystal couldn’t help but take when she thought of the beautiful girl from the laundry room freezing in the cold.

Grabbing her sister’s spare dressing gown, she made her way onto the landing, taking a deep breath before going out onto the fire escape.

Logic and speech pushed to the back part of her mind, Crystal simply made her way over to the other girl and sat down beside her, placing the dressing gown over her slim shoulders.

Even in the dark, she could see how perfect Gigi was.

The mole on the side of her cheek.

The soft pout on her lips.

Despite the mascara smudged down her face and her eyes stinging red, Crystal thought she looked like an angel.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke to her, dropping the cigarette she smoked on the floor and pressing it out with her trainers.

“Hi,” Crystal spoke back, unsure of what to say to the girl, blood rushing through her at a rate of knots, nervous filling her body and bursting through her head like she was some sort of human kettle.

“I guess you know what I mean about the music now.”

“Yeah.” Crystal nodded in the dark. “It’s noted.”

“I’m sorry about Karl…” Gigi trailed off, taking some time before speaking again. “He just gets like that sometimes when he’s had a drink. I know he doesn’t mean it. I guess you know that.”

Unsure of who Karl was, or why she was supposed to know that, Crystal began to feel like she was drowning. Only instead of jumping on the next lifeboat, she swam down deeper for Gigi.

A part of her was afraid, afraid she’d read the aura surrounding the other girl so wrong, afraid that Karl was her boyfriend.

“Mmhmm,” Crystal responded, maybe a bit more high pitched than she naturally would have.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s my best friend. But sometimes a part of me thinks that he just doesn’t have any idea who I really am if you get me.”

Crystal couldn’t have understood any better at that moment.

All she wanted to do was tell her. To tell her how hard it was when everyone expected you to be the same as another person. How awful it felt when they never knew the real you, only a shell of the more outgoing sister.

Only she couldn’t, so she did the next best thing and placed her hand on the girl’s forearm, instantly getting a shock at how cold she felt.

“Do you wanna go inside? We can make hot chocolate,” she suggested, noting how Gigi’s body relaxed under her touch.

“He’s still in my room.” Gigi rolled her eyes. “I just can’t deal with him right now, it needs to be left for the morning.”

“You can stay in mine,” Crystal asked, squeezing her grip ever so slightly.

What was she doing?

This wasn’t part of the plan.

And it was certainly breaking some of the rules.

Potentially all of them combined.

This was a bad idea. A very bad idea.

But nothing filled her with greater relief then when Gigi finally responded: “If you don’t mind, thank you.”

***

At first, she felt awkward as she let Gigi into the room, especially considering the fact it wasn’t hers. But after two hot chocolates each she had felt the most comfortable and at peace as she had since masquerading as her sister.

She watched as Gigi’s eyes made their way around the room, a kid in a sweetie shop, gawking at the treasures around her.

“What’s that?” she spoke between sips, pointing towards Crystal’s craft box that had been haphazardly set up on her sister’s desk.

“Oh.” Crystal went to pick it up, a flutter of warmth rushing through her at the thought of someone, let alone Gigi, being interested in her jewellery. “Just some bits and bobs I make.”

“These are so cool.” Gigi held a pair of scarlet earrings up and examined them closer, her mouth opening slightly as she focused. “Like the ones you had in the other day.”

Crystal’s face turned a deeper red than the earrings, the thought of Gigi remembering what she wore sending shivers down her spine - her head telling her heart on an auto loop that no matter what she thought about Gigi, all of Gigi’s returned thoughts were instead about Elle.

“Yeah,” she choked out, nipping her skin to bring herself back to reality.

“You should sell these!” Gigi gasped as she rooted through more of Crystal’s collection. “I sell the clothes I make on Depop, we’d make a great team.”

Crystal didn’t get a chance to respond. She was too busy picking the pieces of her exploding heart from the carpet and trying to put it back together again.

“In fact.” Gigi grabbed her phone and began to search.

Crystal decided that her thinking face was even cuter than her regular face.

She was in deep. Too deep.

“I think I follow an account that does stuff like this, let me think, something to do with crystals…”

Way, way too deep.

“I’m feeling a bit tired.” Crystal blurted awkwardly, getting mad at her mother for never placing her in acting lessons as a child, ready for the inevitable week that she’d have to pretend to be her twin sister or else she’d be kicked out of university and murdered by their family. Seeing the almost defeated look on Gigi’s face, she tried again. “But you can show me in the morning?”

“I’d love that.” Gigi smiled.

Crystal wanted to rewind time just to hear that sentence again. She wouldn’t be too greedy, she’d only listen to it one more time. Two at a push.

Making sure to go into the en suite as Gigi got changed, Crystal returned to find her in bed, already asleep, her hair a sprawl of honey against the pink pillows.

She waited a second before turning off the light and getting into bed beside her, something about lying next Gigi sending Crystal into a sleepy haze despite the way her heart had been beating so fast just moments before.

She could hear Gigi breathing, snoring just a little, finding her own breathing starting to sync along.

Sleep was only minutes away from taking over her body when she heard it, the muffled cry coming from the other side of the bed.

“No.” She heard Gigi mumble as she tossed from one side to the other. “Don’t go.”

Crystal placed a reassuring hand on her arm without thought. “Are you alright?”

Gigi woke startled, her eyes beaming at Crystal like a young deer caught in the middle of the road.

“I’m fine.” She realised her surroundings and threw the quilt to one side, moving her body down to the bottom end of the bed. “I best be off.”

“Hey.” Crystal sat up, flicking the lamp on by her bedside. “It’s alright, we can-”

But before she could finish, Gigi was gone. Nothing more than the faint smell of lavender on the pillows and the dark ring of hot chocolate in the bottom of her sister’s mug.

***

Making her way back into the college that evening, Crystal waited by the entrance for a few moments, wondering if she could manage to get to Elle’s room without passing the drinks and shenanigans that were currently taking place in front of her, wondering if she could manage to make it without passing Gigi, more precisely.

Tesco carrier bags full to the brim of every comfort food she could gorge on (salami, cheese, salt and vinegar crisps and three different bars of dairy milk to be precise) as she watched her sister’s Disney+ alone, Crystal concluded that the coast was clear and made her way to the bottom of her stairs without passing Gigi.

The words of the note she had posted under Elle’s door the day beforehand were still dancing around Crystal’s mind like a puzzle that even Professor Layton couldn’t solve:

“Elle, please forgive me for this morning. I don’t know what happens when I get like that..we’re all having drinks at around 8 tomorrow if you wanna join? - Gigi.”

As much as she longed to join Gigi for a drink, Crystal knew that she couldn’t. She’d already put too much on the line, allowed herself to get too close, too emotionally invested. A short text from Elle asking if everything was okay scared her straight, there was too much at stake. Yes, she wanted more than anything to be the one who comforted Gigi the next time she had a nightmare, to make jewellery for her and kiss her forehead whenever she looked stressed. But family meant everything to her, and she knew if anyone were to find out what they’d done, the consequences wouldn’t be worth it.

About to make her way up the stairs, Crystal felt a tap on her shoulder.

“Let me help with those,” the boy motioned to her bags, his voice familiar.

With dark hair slicked back, and skin the colour of caramel, it took Crystal a second to realise where she knew the boy from, remembering his face next to Gigi’s in their corner of the dining hall.

“I’m fine, they’re not heavy.” Crystal tried to walk away but was stopped by his voice, yet again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to come help? It’s been a little while, Elle.” He grinned, a smirk in his eyes that Crystal couldn’t quite trace.

“I’m sorry, I’ll have to catch up with you later,” Crystal responded, trying to remain calm on the outside as her insides reached peak panic mode, her brain mentally scanning her notes for anything mentioning this boy. Her search found no results.

“Oh I get it,” he laughed. “It’s one of your games. Sure, you wanna catch up later.”

That’s when the realisation hit Crystal. Her sister was having sex with this boy. And she completely failed to mention it.

Trying to think of something to say, a heavy silence lingered between them. Broken by a familiar tone that managed to scare her half to death and turn her on at the same time.

“Karl.” Gigi shook her head as she made her way down the staircase, carrying what looked like a sippy cup of vodka red bull in her hands. “Do you mind not trying to shag every girl in college for five seconds?”

“I’ll see you later, Elle.” He muttered before strutting away with Gigi, Crystal making out the word ‘cockblock’ in their hushed conversation as they left.

She knew that Elle didn’t tell her everything.

Just because they were twins they didn’t have to know every detail of each other’s lives, even though they spoke every day. Crystal always knew that. But a part of her heart stung at the thought of her sister not even telling her about a boy she was sleeping with. Is that how far apart they’d grown since Elle came to uni?

Fighting back tears, she made her way up the stairs and tried to call her sister. She knew she was being silly; a part of her had just thought she’d know when her sister was sleeping with someone. So many questions ran through her mind. Was Elle safe? Did she love him? Why didn’t anyone know?

She tried to call again, no answer.

Gigi must have known, Crystal figured - slotting together their interaction the night before with the one they’d just had. Is that why Elle didn’t like her? Why they weren’t friends? Why she’d told Crystal to avoid her?

She answered on the fifth call.

“Hey, babe, I really can’t talk right now.”

Crystal ignored her sister’s words, dropping her shopping outside the door and moving out onto the fire escape, the cold breeze hitting her face harshly.

“Who’s Karl?”

“Oh.” She heard her other half’s surprise, she could see the look on her face, high definition in Crystal’s mind. “I told you not to speak to people, for fuck sake, Crystal.”

“Who’s Karl?”

“I can’t speak about this now.” Her tone lowered, clearly someone else was in her company.

“Who’s Karl?” Crystal asked again, not even stopping to think about how dramatic she was being.

Only her sister had hung up before she could get an answer.

Crystal didn’t know how long she’d been out there when she heard the door open, she didn’t even know if she was still crying or not.

“Hi,” Gigi spoke, almost a whisper, as she approached her. “We gotta stop meeting like this, hey?”

Crystal watched Gigi’s face drop a little at the sight of her, looking hurt the second she got close enough to see her tears.

“Yeah, I-” Crystal started but was swiftly interrupted.

Normally in films, it happened after a moment.

The pair would talk, get deep about their issues, reach a comforting solution then sit for a moment in an all-knowing silence.

Then they’d look into each other’s eyes, letting them flicker down once or twice before meeting again, that lock not leaving until they were shut.

Next came the strand of hair, pushed away and tucked neatly behind the ear.

Finally, the kiss, slow at first then growing in passion.

Only Gigi had no patience.

It took Crystal a second to react, to realise what was happening, to press her lips back against Gigi’s, to race her hand through the other girl’s hair.

It was unexpected.

Yet it felt nothing but natural.

And right.

“I’m sorry.” Gigi pulled away, pausing to bite her tongue between her teeth, a nervous side of her appearing that Crystal had not yet seen. “I know that’s like the last thing you’re meant to do when someone’s upset but, I don’t know, you just looked so sad and-”

This time Crystal wasn’t going to let her finish.

She felt Gigi’s hands wipe the stray tears from her face before moving right down her body to her waist. Moving her body closer so she was almost straddling the other girl, Gigi pulled away for just a second to let out a breath.

Crystal moved her hands round to Gigi’s back, further and further down until she was granted a nod of permission, letting them slide over the silky fabric of her skirt.

Before Crystal knew it she was being pushed back to the ground, Gigi’s long and beautiful body towering over her, as she got to her knees and began to kiss Crystal all over.

Gently, methodically, slowly.

Crystal’s mind was carried away, far from reality and refusing to take away from the moment in front of her.

“I knew you wanted me.” She felt Gigi’s breath tickle her ear, sending hot flushes down her entire body, reaching her hands out to touch the other girl’s breasts.

“Fuck, Elle.” Gigi grinned, flicking a switch in Crystal’s body as she pushed herself backwards away from her touch.

She’d almost forgotten that part.

Looking at the other girl’s confused face, she was lost for words, pulling the strap of her vest top back in its place. She knew she couldn’t do it anymore, she couldn’t keep lying. She would have let Gigi sleep with her thinking that she was someone else. She’d become a monster. She had to tell the truth.

“What the fuck?” A voice came from the door behind them, Karl’s confused face flicking between the pair of them. “Is this a joke?”

“Shit,” Gigi muttered and stood up, but Crystal was frozen in place, her hands and feet turning numb with anxiety, the sky around them warping in time. “I can explain.”

Crystal watched as Gigi chased her friend back into the building, listening to her tell him she was sorry and she just got carried away. Listening to Karl ask if that was why she’d told him to stop sleeping with her. Listening to Gigi explain that it wasn’t it, that something had just changed recently. Listening to her life crumble around her.

And then she heard nothing at all.

Even when she knocked on Gigi’s door later that night, ready to give her the explanation she needed, Crystal heard nothing at all - eventually giving in and retreating to the cave of Elle’s room, with no plans to leave it until their train pulled in at the station.

***

Looking up at the hideous brown bricks in front of her, Elle Barge never thought she’d be so relieved to see the college in her life.

One day earlier than she was supposed to return, she hoped that Crystal would forgive her for withholding some of the stuff she’d been doing at university, thinking that they could have one fun night together before getting the train home the next day, giving at least a hint of truth to their family when they arrived back.

Besides, her holiday romance meet-up hadn’t exactly gone the way she had planned when she accidentally met up with his wife. Hence her early departure.

She figured she’d just have to chalk this one up to being a good story to tell, throwing away her sadness at the thought of having a best-selling novel about her awful love life someday.

Heck, she’d probably already have half of it written with just stories about Karl.

Walking up the stairs to her room, she rolled her eyes at the sight in front of her.

One thing she certainly had not missed was Gigi Goode braying on her door to tell her to turn her music down.

Surely, Crystal wasn’t irritating her, Elle thought to herself. The only music Crystal ever played was One Direction and she hardly blasted it.

“Ahem.” Elle coughed loudly enough for Crystal to hear from inside the room, praying she’d understand with her magic twin sense not to come out (also quickly texting her not to incase the magic twin sense failed them. Elle did not want a repeat of that time in year nine when Jackie Cox asked if they could read each other’s minds).

“Hey.” Gigi turned to face her, a strange look on her face that Elle couldn’t quite decode. Tension started to seep through the stained carpet and up the walls like lava.

“Hi?” Elle raised an eyebrow to her, more of a question than a greeting.

“I’m sorry for ignoring you before,” Gigi started, nodding her head as she got into the rhythm of her speech. “I was just scared and I didn’t know how to say it but I can now. Please just listen and wait ‘til I’m done, I have to explain.”

Minefields began exploding inside Elle’s brain.

She simply nodded.

“I’ve been fucked over in the past. And it still scares me today. You know the other night? That was it, I haven’t felt myself get close to anyone in a while. And I know it’s bad because of Karl and I’m a shitty friend to him but honestly, I think that this is something bigger than that, cause I’ve not felt it for a while. And I think you feel it too. Look, I’m really shit at this but something changed this week, I saw you in this light I’d never caught you in. I might sound mad but I think that I need you.”

Looking back at the girl in front of her with dismay, Elle spoke back the only three words that rang through her brain at that moment.

“What the fuck.”

And then her door opened, her sister’s face peeking out around the corner, clad in the same expression she used to have whenever she’d spilt juice on the carpet or smashed plate. Her hair matted and eyes puffy, Elle immediately moved to her side.

And then Gigi uttered the three words as well - only adding a “fucking” in there too for good measure.

Killing the silence that lingered for some time, Crystal spoke the fastest sentence Elle had ever heard all in one breath: “I’ve been pretending to be my sister so she could go get fucked by a Spanish guy.”

“Wow.” Elle looked back and forth between the pair, recognising a glint in her sister’s eyes that was certainly not there before.

Crystal prepared herself and walked up to Gigi, placing her hand on her arm. “I wanted to tell you so bad. I was going to but then Karl came and everything got messy. I know you probably can’t forgive me, but I saw that bigger thing too and I let myself get carried away in it.”

Gigi looked between the pair and raised a hand to her mouth, letting out a hearty laugh.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Elle pleaded, fear rising inside her.

Silence filled the landing again, the twins standing sheepishly as they gave time for Gigi to process.

“If I’m honest I think I’m less confused now.” Gigi turned to face Crystal and grinned, showing an emotion Elle didn’t think the Barbie doll was even capable of showing. “This makes a lot more sense.”

Elle watched as her sister grinned back, seeing the genuine happiness on her face and throwing away all thoughts about whether or not she’d get in trouble.

“I think I might just be able to forgive you.” Gigi looked her up and down, pouting her lips in a joking manner. “If you let me take you out so we can talk this through over dinner?”

“Yes,” Crystal responded without hesitation.

“But first, could you tell me your name?”

“Crystal.” Elle watched as her sister reached out and shook the other girl’s hand, proud of the growth in confidence she could see - happy to see the return of the happy-go-lucky Crystal who wasn’t too scared to try anything new that she knew as a child.

“Crystal,” Gigi repeated, smiling to herself. “So Crystal, do you go to uni or just hang around at other people’s?”

“Maybe next year.” Crystal smiled back a sense of optimism in her voice. “Are we going for this dinner or what?”

Although it took her a minute to take in what she’d seen, a strange feeling inside of her as she waved her sister goodbye for a date with her bitchy downstairs neighbour, Elle couldn’t help but think that her disaster vacation had all happened for a good reason. In fact, she found herself almost shedding a tear as she heard her sister laughing at something Gigi said on their way downstairs, figuring that she might just see more of her sister than usual next term (and being nothing but happy about it).

#rpdr fanfiction #crystal methyd #gigi goode #crygi #angst #lesbian au #university au #end of the day #ashley #concrit welcome #submission #s12 #college au

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alice-beaumont-ravenclaw · 4 years

Text

A Night to Remember (Part 1)

A/N #1: It is finally here! The Celestial Ball fic!!! 23 pages total, hence why I divided it into two parts and will also insert text dividers so that if you can’t read it in one shot, you can easily find where you were. Here are the other fics in the series:��You’ve Got a Friend in Me | Distraction | Something There | One Step Closer | Fashion Emergency | Get Your Head in the Game | Der Walzer von Alice | Of Quidditch and Ballgowns | From Paris, with Love

There was only one day left before the Celestial Ball. The last exam before the Winter Break had been less than a week ago, so everyone was busy preparing for the ball. Alice and her friends were helping Penny complete the decorations in the Great Hall. Many students could be seen running around Hogwarts as they tried to finalize their ball outfits or tried desperately to find dates.

“Why is everyone so desperate to find a date?” asked Alice as she handed Penny a star.

“Because it’s way more fun to go to a ball with a date,” explained Penny, as she hung the star.

“Really? But it looks so stressful to try to get one. If it weren’t for the fact that prefects are the first ones to dance, I would just have gone with all you guys. Do you have a date for the ball, Penny?”

“I was so busy with the decorations committee that I just asked Andre,” she replied, hanging another star.

“Thanks a lot, Haywood. Now I feel really special,” shouted Andre, near the ceiling on his broom, hanging decorations.

“Come on! You said yes because you don’t have the guts to ask the Hufflepuff seeker to the ball,” replied Penny, acting fakely offended.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Andre before flying to another section of the Great Hall.

“What are you talking about?” asked Alice, handing her friend a big moon.

“Andre has a thing for Artemon Spooner, Hufflepuff’s Seeker. Another player told me that, when they practice together, they spend most of their time flirting with each other,” replied Penny.

“Why would a Keeper practice with a Seeker?” asked Alice, looking at Andre before bringing her attention back to Penny.

“Excellent question! Probably why nearly all Quidditch players know about the crush they have on each other,” said Penny, rubbing her chin.

“But why don’t they just admit it to each other?” asked Alice.

Penny stared at her as Alice looked back with her wide eyes. “Well, sometimes, it’s not that simple. Fear of rejection plays a huge part in whether you are willing to reveal your feelings to someone or not.”

“But… They flirt with each other. So… Isn’t it obvious they have a thing for one another?” asked Alice, scratching her head.

“Oh, some people can be oblivious to that. Believe me, I’ve seen it,” said Penny, looking back at her friend with a small smile.

“Really? When?” asked Alice, but before Penny could say anything, Charlie ran up to them.

“Alice, it’s time for our last dance practice,” said Charlie, pointing at his watch.

With that, Alice and Charlie walked out of the Great Hall together. Penny looked at them leave, a small smile gracing her features. “Merlin, she’s oblivious,” she whispered as she shook her head.

In the evening, when Alice finally returned to her dorm, the first thing she saw was Rowan looking mortified. She turned to see what was causing her friend such distress.

“Tulip!” she exclaimed, looking at the red-haired Ravenclaw.

“What?” asked Tulip as she poured something in a small cauldron on her bed.

“What are you doing?” asked Alice.

“A face mask mixture! I heard some girls talking about face masks to have smooth skins, so I figured it’d be fun to try one before the ball.”

“Hum… Since when have you been so… girly?” asked Alice, raising her eyebrows.

“She omitted to tell you her main ingredient,” pointed out Badeea, who was busy sketching on her bed.

“It’s dungbombs…” whispered Rowan, still staring at Tulip.

“Of course it is… Tulip, do you want to repeat the dungbomb incident of last year?” asked Alice.

“Well… It was technically this year, since we are still in 1988,” pointed out Tulip, adding another ingredient to her cauldron.

“Tulip…” grumbled Alice. “I covered your arse last time. I don’t think Flitwick would believe me if I told him you had an ‘accident’ again.”

“Ugh, fine, fine! I guess we won’t have soft skins then,” she said as she opened a window, dropping the content of her cauldron outside.

“Wait! Don’t!” shouted her three roommates, all running towards the window.

They heard a splash followed by a scream. They slowly looked out the window. All the way down on the ground was Filch, covered in Tulip’s mixture. They all quickly took a step back before he had a chance to look up.

“Tulip, slowly close the window,” whispered Alice. “Rowan, scourgify Tulip’s cauldron and hide it.”

“She can put it in my trunk,” said Tulip as she closed the window.

“Hide it from Tulip,” specified Alice. “We don’t want her to make our dorm stink or explode before the ball.”

“I just love how you trust me,” said Tulip.

“What can I do?” asked Badeea.

“Hum… Oh! You can sketch our alibi! Just draw Rowan reading and Tulip playing with her dungbombs.”

“What about you?”

“Well, I arrived moments before the incident, so having a full sketch of me doing something wouldn’t be very credible. So just a vague shape on my bed.”

“Alice, don’t you think it’s a bit much? It’s not like we are trying to get away with murder,” said Rowan.

“It’s Filch. He’s going to look for a culprit. He probably knows it came from the Ravenclaw tower. Which Ravenclaw do you think he’ll suspect?”

“What can I say? He’s so fun to mess with,” said Tulip, shrugging.

Alice sat on her bed, massaging her temples. “I swear, Tulip… I have enough stress as it is with the ball fast approaching, I really don’t need the extra stress of Filch conducting an investigation.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be nice until this is all over. I think I’ll be able to stay out of trouble for one day,” conceded Tulip.

“What about Winter Break?” asked Badeea.

“Oh, I’ll get to annoy my parents back home, so it’s all good.”

Rowan stared at Tulip before turning back to Alice. “Why are you stressed? Your dress is ready; you have every element for your outfit, you have someone to dance with… Oh!”

“Yeah… I will be dancing in front of everyone. Everyone will be staring. One false move, and I can already hear Merula laugh.”

“Why do you care so much about what Merula thinks?” asked Badeea

“I don’t really care about what she thinks, but she’s been a thorn in my side since our first day at Hogwarts. If I screw up, she won’t just think I suck; she’ll keep bringing it up, which is so annoying. There are days where I wish I could just cast Silencio on her,” explained Alice.

“Alice?” said Tulip.

“Hmm?”

“If Merula is an arse during the ball, can I use a dungbomb on her?”

“You have my blessing.”

“You sound like the Godfather,” remarked Badeea.

Alice looked at her before realizing what she was referring to. “Should I make her kiss my ring?” she said before laughing.

“Your godfather makes people kiss his ring?” asked Rowan.

“And he asks people to use dungbombs?” asked Tulip.

The next morning, the Great Hall was abuzz with conversations about the ball. At the Ravenclaw table, Andre was busy suggesting various hairstyles to Alice.

“What about Audrey Hepburn’s hairstyle at the beginning of Breakfast at Tiffany’s?”

“Too much,” replied Alice between two bites of toast as Barnaby sat next to Andre.

“What’s going on?” asked the Slytherin.

“Andre is suggesting hairstyles for tomorrow.”

“I don’t think you have enough hair to make that hairstyle,” said Barnaby as he looked at a picture and then at Andre.

“It’s not for me! It’s for Alice,” replied Andre, letting out a sigh.

“I like Alice’s hair right now,” said Barnaby, looking at Alice with a smile.

“But it’s too plain! We need something amazing!”

Alice narrowed her eyes. “Thanks, Andre. But honestly, I don’t want a hairstyle that is too over the top. The dress is already dazzling, not to mention the hair accessory I have…”

“But…”

“Andre. I won’t be a contestant in a beauty pageant. I don’t need to outshine everyone. I just want to look good for myself. I want to be able to recognize myself in the mirror,” pleaded Alice.

“Alright, alright. Anyway, with the outfit I’ve put together for you, you’ll outshine everyone.”

“I have a question,” said Barnaby.

“Yes?” said Alice, turning her attention to her Slytherin friend.

“Where can I get a buccaneer?”

“A buccaneer?” repeated Alice, taken aback.

“In the Caribbean, about two, three centuries ago,” answered Andre. “Why?”

“Well, I heard Merula and Ismelda talking about it last night in the common room. Merula said her date better have one,” said Barnaby pensively.

“Kinky,” mumbled Andre, stifling a laugh.

“Did Merula say anything else about the… buccaneer?”

“Well, she did say she hopes the flowers won’t clash with her dress.”

At the mention of flowers, both Alice’s and Andre’s eyes lit up.

“Ah!” exclaimed Andre.

“A boutonnière!” said Alice.

“Showing off your French, Beaumont?” snickered Andre.

“Shut up,” mumbled Alice.

“Wait, isn’t it what I said?” asked Barnaby, rubbing his chin.

“Not exactly… Anyway, a boutonnière is a single flower you wear on the lapel of your suit. So I guess you could go see Professor Sprout for one,” explained Alice.

“But it’s really not necessary. I wasn’t planning on wearing one, and Charlie’s suit doesn’t have any lapel…”

“Oh! Speaking of Charlie’s outfit…” started Alice, her curiosity piqued.

“Tonight,” replied Andre.

“Awww, come on! All he told me was ‘Dragons!’ I’m starting to imagine a suit covered in little dragons.”

“That sounds so cool!” exclaimed Barnaby, resulting in Andre staring at him.

“You know I would never do that,” said Andre as he kept glancing at Barnaby.

“Could you cover mine in bowtruckles? No, wait, puffskeins! Oh, oh, no, even better…” said Barnaby, visibly excited at the idea of a dress robe covered in magical creatures.

“No! Your dress robes shouldn’t look like a 5-year-old’s pyjamas!”

“Aww, come on, Andre, at least give him a little embroidery,” said Alice, drinking her tea.

“Ugh, fine… Can I go to Paris this summer?”

“Only if you shut up about you-know-what,” replied Alice, not looking up from her cup.

“Could you make me some PJs with all the creatures after?” asked Barnaby as he got up.

“We’ll see. Alice, think about your hair and your makeup while I’m busy with the man-child,” said Andre before following Barnaby.

“Be nice!” shouted Alice at him, smiling before taking another sip.

Back in her dorm after breakfast, she stood in front of the mirror, playing with her hair and the tiara her grandmother had given her. She tried various hairstyles, holding her hair up, then half-up-half-down, her tiara at the top of her head, then at the back. She sighed and dropped on her bed, her face in her pillow.

“UGH!!!” she let out, the pillow muffling the sound of her exasperation.

“Are you ok, Alice?” asked Badee in a soft voice.

Alice looked up from her pillow. “Uh? Oh! How long have you been here?”

“I just came in,” answered Badeea, sitting at the edge of Alice’s bed. “What’s going on?”

“I’m trying to figure out a hairstyle for tomorrow that goes with this,” said Alice, pointing at the tiara on her nightstand.

“Oh! It’s lovely!” exclaimed Badeea, delicately picking it up and observing its details. “The craftsmanship is amazing. Did Andre make this?”

“Hum… No… It was a… family friend,” replied Alice, unconvinced by her lie.

“I see,” said Badeea, a small smile appearing on her face as she glanced at Alice. “So, what kind of hairstyle are you going for?”

“Something simple. I don’t want to look like a wedding cake topper.”

“What about… a braid, going around the back of your head?” suggested Badeea.

“Like a milkmaid braid? Sorry, but I forgot my dirndl at home,” replied Alice, raising her eyebrows.

“No, no. Not a milkmaid braid. I was thinking more of taking parts of the hair at the side of your face and braiding them towards the back of your head until both met. Your tiara could go just underneath.”

Alice stared at her for a few seconds before jumping out of her bed and hugging her. “That’s brilliant!”

Startled by the hug, Badeea was rendered speechless. It was extremely rare for Alice to initiate physical contacts. She slowly tapped Alice’s back before the latter took a step back.

“You think you could make a quick sketch for Andre? It doesn’t have to be super detailed, just for him to understand the idea,” said Alice.

Badeea simply nodded as she watched her friend, who said a quick thank you, run out of the dorm.

As she ran down a corridor, smiling brightly, Alice bumped into Andre, who was coming back from the Slytherin common room.

“You look like you are in a hurry. Your cheeks are all flushed! Actually kinda looks good on you,” noticed Andre, staring at his friend.

“There you are,” said Alice, ignoring his remark. “Badeea came up with a brilliant hairstyle for tomorrow! Taking the hair at the side of my face and braiding them towards the back, like a braid crown, but only at the back, and we could place my tiara right underneath it! She’s going to make a sketch so you can see,” she said as she started to drag Andre in the direction she came from.

Andre stopped her in her tracks. “Woah, slow down there, Alice. Breath in, breath out. Now, I’m glad you figured out your hairstyle, but what about makeup?”

“Make… Up… Awww, great. I forgot about that… Well, I can already tell you that I don’t want to look like Cyndi Lauper. Her music is rad, but her overall look is a bit too over the top for me,” said Alice as she crossed her arms, leaning against a wall.

“Oi! I could make some suggestions,” said Tonks, who’s head popped up from behind Andre.

“No! After the Camden incident, I want your makeup ‘skills’ to stay as far away from me as possible,” exclaimed Alice, terrified at the prospect of Tonks applying her makeup.

“Do I wanna know?” asked Andre, looking between the two girls.

“Nah, just that little Miss Sloane Ranger here doesn’t like edgy makeup,” replied Tonks, doing her best not to laugh at Alice’s face.

“Edgy? I looked like a panda! So did you, for that matter,” said Alice with a huff.

“Sloane Ranger?” said Andre, raising an eyebrow as he stared at Tonks.

“Yeah… Think Lady Diana, Princess of Wales,” summarized Alice.

“Oh… Oh!” exclaimed Andre, his eyes lightening up.

“What?” asked Alice, furrowing her brows as she looked at her friend.

But before she could say anything else, Andre had grabbed her wrist and had started running towards the Ravenclaw common room, leaving Tonks behind. Once inside, he dragged her to his dorm.

“Oi! Egwu! What’s going on? Why did you drag me all the way here? Am I even allowed to be here?” asked Alice, looking around the boys’ dorm.

“Yeah, you are,” said Andre as he started to rummage through his trunk. “Guys are not allowed in the girls’ dorm, but girls are allowed in our dorm.”

“Could you two keep it down?” said a voice behind them.

Alice turned around to see Talbott staring at them from behind his book. “Oh, sorry, Talbott. Didn’t see you there.”

“No wonder. You stormed into here,” grunted Talbott.

“I thought you would be hanging in the owlery like you always do,” said Andre, barely paying attention to his roommate.

“The owlery is too busy, people sending thank you notes to their families for the stuff they sent for the ball,” explained Talbott, his attention back to his book.

“Oh, are you going to the ball, Talbott?” asked Alice.

“Nah, I avoid crowds,” replied Talbott.

“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Alice, a light pout appearing on her lips.

“Let him be…” said Andre, suddenly raising a magazine above his head triumphantly. “There! Found it!”

“What?”

“Your makeup inspiration! Princess Diana at Canne last year!” said Andre, shoving the picture in her face.

Alice took a step back to have a better look at the picture. “Oh! How lovely! It looks really natural and timeless. I love it! But maybe not the blue eyeliner I’m kinda seeing…”

“Don’t worry; blue wouldn’t go with your green eyes. I was actually thinking of forgoing the eyeliner, and simply go for blush and mascara, and perhaps a natural shade of lipstick.”

“There’s just one problem… I don’t have any makeup with me.”

“Mmm… I might know where we can get some… To the Hufflepuff common room!!!”

“Penny!” exclaimed Andre, standing beside Penny, quietly reading while her face was covered with a clay mask.

“AH!” screamed Penny, making her mask crack. “Ugh! Look what you’ve done! I’ll have to start all over again.”

“As if you needed a clay mask… We need your help, Penny. We finally figured out a makeup style for Alice, but we don’t have any makeup!”

“How the hell did we get in here…” mumbled Alice, looking around.

“What do you need?” asked Penny.

“Blush and mascara.”

“I can do the blush, but sharing mascara is very unhygienic.”

“We could use Scourgify on the brush?” suggested Alice.

“Every time I dip the brush in, I contaminate the product, so even if you clean the brush, it’s pointless.”

“Don’t you have a spare?” asked Andre.

“Well, I do, but…”

“Please! It’s for Alice’s big night. She’ll be dancing in front of a huge crowd with, you know, Charlie,” said Andre, winking.

“Huh? Oh!” exclaimed Penny, suddenly realizing what Andre was hinting at. Tonight might be the night the Dragon Boy and the Curse-Breaker would confess to one another. “Alright, you can have it. I’ll just go and fetch it.”

“Thanks for reminding me of the huge crowd…” grumbled Alice.

“Oh, you’ll be fine. You’ll be in the arms of Charlie Weasley, dancing to the sound of a waltz, in your own little world,” daydreamed Andre.

“All that’s missing is an evil step-mother, and we’d have a fairytale,” said Alice, rolling her eyes.

“Oh, Alice, where is your sense of romance?” asked Andre, letting out a sigh as he looked at his hopeless friend.

“Andre, I don’t have time for romance. I have to protect you guys from ‘R,’ whoever that is, and I have to find the portrait vault. Romance would just be a distraction. Anyway, who would be interested in a danger magnet like me?”

Andre stared at his friend, letting out another sigh. Everyone could see how much Charlie was smitten with her, except her. “Fine, fine. Why don’t you go and eat lunch? It’s going to be makeover time after lunch!”

“Why am I afraid?” said Alice as she left the Hufflepuff common room, just as Penny arrived with the makeup.

“There! Alice will look like a fairytale princess for the big confession.”

Andre didn’t say anything as Penny handed him the blush and mascara. He just kept staring at the now-closed door of Hufflepuff’s common room.

A/N #2: That’s it for Part 1! Part 2 is HERE! I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you thought in the comments! (Kinda fit this challenge’s “Ball” prompt...) Oh, and what are your thoughts on the text divider?

#hphm fanfic #hogwarts mystery fanfic #hogwarts mystery mc #hphm mc #jacob’s sibling #alice beaumont #charlie weasley #charlie weasley x alice beaumont #charlie weasley x mc #andre egwu #barnaby lee #penny haywood #talbott winger #badeea ali #tulip karasu #rowan khanna #nymphadora tonks #hphm #hogwarts mystery

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kumkaniudaku · 4 years

Text

Mama

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mama’s! I also hope those who may be experience tough mental states during this time were able to be surrounded by light and love. I care about you and your cute face.

Little giggles and warnings to be quiet filled the kitchen of the Boseman home, the mid-morning sunshine lighting the brown faces huddled around the counter. The youngest of the group was the only member not covered in one of the ingredients sprawled across the marble surface. On a regular Sunday morning, the area would be kept tidy as CoCo moved around her sanctuary with trained precision to prepare breakfast for the family. But, for one of two special mornings during the year, Chadwick and the kids snuck around to beat Tasha to the punch and do the heavy lifting.

“Daddy, I don’t think Mommy will like this. It looks...nasty.”

Genuine shock flashed across Chadwick’s face before his booming laughter rang out.

“Does it really look nasty, Princess? You tellin’ me you wouldn’t eat some of your mommy’s favorite french toast?”

“Only if mommy makes it. This looks like sad pancakes.”

Chadwick took a look at the dish and silently agreed.

Tasha had an affinity for brandy soaked French Toast from the moment her late grandmother allowed her to taste a piece when she was young. The dish was always reserved for special occasions and, in special cases, a session of lovemaking that was too incredible to overlook. When CoCo made them, the golden brown pieces of bread sat on the most expensive plates in the house covered in granny smith apples and syrup in all their glory. After Chadwick had taken his stab at the recipe, the results weren’t nearly as picturesque.

Instead of pillowy slices of challah arranged expertly on the plate, Tasha would be met with slightly mushy apples atop pieces of toast with varying shades of brown and the occasional speck of black. The recipe called for two tablespoons of booze, but without the patience to decide if the tablespoon he used was enough, Chadwick opted for a full shot from his wife’s “special” shot glass.

Micah was right. With the bread soaked in alcohol and apple juice, the french toast did look like sad pancakes.

“You know how you didn’t wanna eat broccoli and cheddar soup because you said it looked like snot,” Chadwick asked Micah who nodded in response. “But you liked it because I made it taste good! Well, your mama will like this because I made it taste good even though it looks like snot.”

“And because she thinks we’re cute?”

“Especially because she thinks we’re cute.”

The slow creak of a door opening above their heads made Chadwick wink to Micah with a smile.

“Mama,” Noah exclaimed, clapping his hands together to mimic the way Tasha would greet him with the good morning song and dance.

“I like the way you think, AJ. Let’s go feed Mama.”

Serving tray in hand, Chadwick helped Micah make careful steps up the stairs and to the room. Tasha’s conversation beyond the bathroom door was unusually groggy and slow with morning drowsiness. Some clever planning from Chadwick kept CoCo up past her self-imposed bedtime to buy time for breakfast prep the next morning. His efforts were paying off.

“Yeah ma, I don’t know where they are. It’s too quiet in here,” Tasha informed her mother over the phone.

“Well are you gonna look for ‘em?”

“No. Hopefully they’re out getting my gift. I’ve been dropping hints about an upgraded wedding ring.”

“You haven’t even been married a decade yet.”

“So? A girl could use new diamonds!”

“That boy spoils you rotten, child.”

“He does and I love him.”

Chadwick caught the small sigh on Tasha’s end of the conversation and smiled. She’d been dropping more than hints and the ring. She was making her way into the “let me come out and say it” category day by day.

“It doesn’t matter what I get anyway. I’m more interested in your reaction when you get your gift! I told Daddy to record it.”

“That must be what he’s calling my name for now. I’ll call you with the verdict later.”

CoCo exchanged goodbyes with her mother before dipping into the bathroom to brush her teeth. Her absence gave Chadwick and the kids enough time to slip into the master bathroom unseen and set up her Best Mom Ever surprise. The moment her trophy was placed on the bedside table, CoCo opened the door.

“Happy Mama’s Day!”

A broad smile stretched across CoCo’s face as she clutched her chest and admired their excited faces.

“My babies! Is this for me?”

“Yeah! We got you gifts and a trophy and breakfast!”

“Well I’m excited. Show me what to do!”

While Micah gave her mother instructions, Chadwick took his moment to pepper Tasha’s cheek in kisses.

“Happy Mother’s Day, baby. You the best.”

“Ooh does that mean I got my ring?”

“Of course. I installed the new doorbell last night.”

Backing away from his kiss, Tasha made her disgust known. “Get away and give me my son!”

“Ah don’t be like that, Cookie!”

CoCo playfully shooed her husband away and took her spot in the chair beside their bed to wait for whatever Micah had in store. Her first gift came in a ornate, handmade frame.

“This one is from Noah! It says I love you Mommy.”

Tasha took a look at the rainbow of unintelligible signs and shapes and smiled. “I see the vision. It’s abstract! Thank you, Chunk,” she cooed as she brought Noah up to her lips for a kiss. “What’s next, Mikes?”

“I gots the best gift for you from me. Open it, open it!”

Micah couldn’t stop dancing while she watched Tasha carefully pull apart the ribbon adorning a slender, Tiffany blue box. Tasha fully expected another charm bracelet, but the actual gift was nothing short of confusing.

CoCo looked to Chadwick for answers and received a secretive smile in return.

“What is this baby girl?”

“It’s a magic wand because you’re magic! And it’s glass so that it sparkles.”

The explanation made CoCo melt in her seat. “You think I’m magic?”

“Yeah! You do all the cool stuff like cooking and playing dress up and taking pretty pictures and teaching me how to read. You’re like a fairy!”

“Oh my...I’m gonna cry. Come here, sweetie.”

Micah rushed into her mother’s arms for a huge embrace that seemed to last forever.

“I love it so much, Munchkin. I’ll keep it forever and ever. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Micah exclaimed, unaware of the emotional roller coaster she’d just gifted Tasha.

“Whew, the WATERWORKS. Can you beat that Daddy?”

“Actually,” Chadwick answered, dramatically drawing out the word. “Let’s take a break and eat breakfast. I made you famous brandy French Toast.”

“Mmmm, I-.” Tasha’s face dramatically changed expressions as she watched a steaming hot plate of mush be placed in front of her. “This looks...food-y.”

Chadwick caught the hesitation in her sentence and smiled, “We know it doesn’t look as good as yours, but we know it tastes good.”

“And we’re cute!”

“You guys sure are that. I guess I should dig in?”

“Eat it! Eat it! Eat it!” Micah danced and chanted as Tasha attempted to cut through the thickest and, somehow, driest portion of the bread.

All eyes were on her to watch for her reaction. She chewed and chewed...and chewed some more until she had small enough portions to swallow. The sting of potent bourbon nearly made her choke, but she smiled through the reaction.

“Does it taste good, Mommy.”

“Mhmm,” she answered through pursed lips. “Hey, Mikes, Daddy forgot your being me water. Can you bring me a water bottle from the kitchen?”

Micah jumped at the opportunity to be helpful and dashed out of the room. Once she was out of earshot, Tasha’s eyes grew wide.

“Babe, I think I’m drunk! Did you soak it overnight?!

“I may have gone a smidge too hard but the cinnamon flavor is there right?”

“Hell if I know! I can’t taste anything past liquor,” she laughed. The sound drew Noah’s attention and he craned his head around to kiss her lips. “No, no, baby. Can’t have you tipsy at 9 in the morning.”

Chadwick couldn’t help but laugh at his blunder, but chose not to comment. Instead, he chose to take a seat beside her in the bed and pull out the gift hidden in his pocket.

“Since I did less than stellar with your favorite breakfast, I figure I’d give you this to make up for it.”

He presented her with another Tiffany blue box and Tasha immediately knew that was inside. She rushed to pop the top and squealed when she was met with a beautiful diamond with an engraved band.

“Another wedding band? I’m so surprised! I would have never guessed.”

“Yeah right,” Chadwick mumbled. As soon as the words left his lips. Tasha covered them in kisses.

“You the best, babe. I love you.”

“I love you.” A second kiss cake right as a flash of fluffy coils came rushing in to join the rest of the family on the bed. Tasha quickly received the cold bottle before welcoming Micah into her arms.

“I love you all so much. Thank you for being my babies.”

“It’s our pleasure,” Micah affirmed, snuggling closer to CoCo.

The room filled with laughter from wall to wall as they enjoyed time together. Tasha didn’t need flashy gifts and trophies on a holiday to know that she was loved. In her mind, the three versions of her heart was enough to make every day worthwhile.

——

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#Chadwick Boseman #chadwick boseman fan fiction #chadwick boseman imagine #chadwick boseman x reader #chadwick boseman x you

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rightsockjin · 4 years

Text

Rainy day in Paris

Here is part 2 of Fight to Paris this took me way too long to write. (OhMyGaud) I hope y’all enjoy it.

Flight to Paris

masterlist

Also please send me some requests I need inspo for Jin, Hope, and Jimin I wanna write their meet-cutes but I can imagine anything.

warnings

This is smut please don’t read if it makes you uncomfortable.

감사합니다

Slight Angst in the beginning

Makeup sex

Lil’ bit of a choking kink

HICKIES

LOTS of kissing

Unprotected sex (stay safe guys)

Crying

Namjoon and Y/n love the hell out of each other.

It had been a few days since my sister, and I had gotten back from Paris. Still, I hadn’t talked to Namjoon. It was so weird to be on vacation without him. It was as if my world was in grey, the pink hue that used to follow me ceased to exist. I mean yes, I was with my sister, but it felt like something was missing. I was starting to regret going away without Namjoon, he added excitement to every experience, and I missed that when I was in France. What was the point of going to the city of love when my love wasn’t with me?

So Paris was lackluster. Even when my sister and I got home, it felt strange. I walked into our apartment, I didn’t expect him to be there and I wasn’t surprised to be correct since I didn’t tell him when I was coming back. I assumed that he had gone to the dorms and stayed with the boys. Regardless, the house felt still and cold. It didn’t feel like home. Not without him.

What was the point of having such a big apartment and only being able to share it with him two to three nights, or of me moving my entire life to Korea despite all my family members’ warnings, if he isn’t with me? He was the reason for so much change in my life and while that was a positive change, it wasn’t worth it if I couldn’t share my successes with him. Suddenly, I felt claustrophobic the walls around me seemed to be closing in. the air surrounding me felt thick and I couldn’t get a full breath to fill my lungs. Panic began to set in, and tears ran down my cheeks. I was alone in our apartment and I felt helpless, I sank to the floor and let myself wallow in my pity. Heart-shattering at the thought that maybe I’d never need an apartment this big again.

Namjoon pov

I hadn’t heard a word from her since she left, she hadn’t even bothered to tell me when she was coming back home. So, there I was, like a dog everyday rushing home hoping to see her again. I was ready to give her everything I had. She had sacrificed so much to make us work and my selfishness didn’t let me see that, but this served as a wakeup call there was no way I would ever take her for granted again. If I wasn’t too late. She had become such a big part of my life that life itself had become fuzzy without her; I became indifferent to everything.

I put my hands in the pockets of my coat as I rushed to our loft and noticed something in one of the pockets. I pulled out a small Tiffany box. I had completely forgotten about the ring I had gotten her. The album had taken all the space in my mind even the space that should have been reserved for her. I was an idiot for letting that happen. Finally, I arrived at our apartment and got in quickly to get out of the cold weather. Normally, the house would be quiet and stagnant since she was gone, but I heard noises coming from the living room. I rushed in that direction hoping that she was back, and there she was. She laid on the ground weeping, her shoulders shook, and her face was stained with black.

Had I done this to her? I though in agony, even more, afraid what was to come just because she was back, didn’t mean that she forgave me. I crouched down to her level and took her hands. She looked up at me, her eyes seemed to light up the tiniest bit. Still, she cried, I pulled her up to her feet and wrapped my arms around her and held her tightly against me. We stayed like this for what felt simultaneously like years and seconds. I leaned down to kiss the top of her head.

“Princess… I’m so sorry… please… I want you in my life always…” my voice kept cracking and tears dropped freely down my face. “You are everything I’ve ever wanted, you… you’re more than what I deserve, and…” I pulled her away from me and tilted her chin up so she would meet my gaze. Her breathing steadied and I continued to talk. “I’m so sorry for taking advantage of you, I love you to the moon and back. I never meant to hurt you.” My lips were quivering. She lifted her petite hand a wiped the tears from my face.

“I’ve realized that uh…” she spoke her voice even in it saddened horse tone sounded like the metropolitan orchestra everything she did in any presentation was like a work of art and I can’t believe I let myself pass it by, “I want to be with you, I want us to make a life together, but that’s not going to happen if you stop lifting your weight and if you are not willing to do that for me Namjoon then-”

“Done, it’s done, you are one of my main priorities, I’m willing to do whatever it takes to make things right again. We can travel again, and I’ll make you breakfast, and…and” I rushed through my quivering lips my heart was pounding in my chest I stared into her eyes and saw everything I had fallen in love with. I needed this girl in my life, she gave my monochrome life its pink tint and I wouldn’t want to lose that.

“Joon… I don’t need anything, I don’t need expensive trips, or fine jewelry, or fancy dinners. I… I just want you.” Her eyes bore into my soul for a beat then she crashed her lips into mine.

y/n pov

His arms wrapped tightly around my waist pulling me into his chest as my arms reach around his muscular neck. Our bodies melted together; heat ran through my body. All our unspoken words and our misunderstood feelings are forgotten as we finally reunited after what felt like years of estrangement. His hands smooth down my hips until they reach to where my thighs meet my butt.

“Up” his voice was horse adding an edge to his usually honey-like intonation. I quickly jump up to meet his command his hands squeezed my legs as they hooked around his waist. He walked clumsily to our shared bedroom until his knees finally met our bed.

He deposited me down softly and let his face hover above me. Even with the lights turned off I could see his shining eyes staring deep into my own. I could see the wrinkles that formed at the corner of his eyes only when he smiled his beautiful dimply smile. At this moment it felt like we could communicate telepathically, his actions speaking for him in lieu of his words.

He leaned into me again catching my lips in a passionate kiss. Unlike the previous latter, this one was filled with passion that had built up from our time apart. I felt his tongue prod at the seam of my lips while his hands snaked their way up my chest and under my shirt.

I moaned into the kiss arching my back at his touch, goosebumps plagued my skin despite the heat that filled my body. He began to kiss down my neck, careful not to leave visible bruises, settling instead for light pink marks that claimed me as his. Taking advantage of my position he reaches under me to unclasp my bra. He took a beat and steps away from our bed. I whimpered pathetically at the loss of his warmth. He seemed to be catching his breath. His gaze was fixated on my body, but he seemed far away.

“Namjoon… please,” I begged not knowing exactly for what, but he seemed to understand me, suddenly brought back to earth and to this moment. Again, his lips found mine, his hands grabbed at the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head alongside my bra. He climbed on top of me so that he was straddling my thighs. He stilled, looking at my bare chest, I felt a deep blush rise through my body. His eyes seemed to burn my skin. It felt like years since we last were intimate and for some reason it felt all new once again.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

His hands ran up and down my body and began to fiddle with the button and zipper of my jeans. I reached towards the hem of his shirt and tugged at it. He seemed to get my hint and tore it from his body as if it were on fire. My eyes hungrily raked down his torso stopping only at his now prominent erection, my face flushed, and I quickly brought my eyes back to his. A small smirk graced his plush lips. He had noticed. Something still felt off. Maybe he was tired, or maybe it had been far too long since we were in a situation as steamy as this, but he seemed subdued. Scared even.

He dipped back down towards my body nuzzling his face into my neck, not giving me time to study his expression further. He nipped at the skin between wet kisses. Slowly he descended down my body leaving behind a trail of careless and prominent hickies. He made his way down my torso, hooking his slender fingers into the fabric of my jeans and panties pulling them down slowly kissing my legs until he got them completely off of me. My breath hitched at the proximity of his lips, and the way his damp breath hit my skin. He let the pants drop to the floor, his eyes studied my body the way that he studied his English books or his rewritten lyrics, stopping only when his hungry stare met mine. He froze suddenly, his eyes softening, and he let out a content sigh.

At that moment, the raging fire that had been fueling the passion simmered low and seemed to warm me from head to toe in the most comfortable way imaginable.

Namjoon pov

I didn’t expect to see her this way ever again. I had assumed she never wanted to be with me after the pain I had caused her. Having her with me, having her take me back, was better than winning a Grammy. I look at her. Every inch of her perfect skin, every beautiful curve, the marks blossoming on her torso, all of it. She was the most precious thing to me. I wouldn’t let myself mess us up again.

I took my jeans and underwear off in one fell swoop. I notice here eyes flicker down taking a peek at my vulnerability. She had always been a bit shy looking at me, I smiled at her fondly feeling my chest warm up with slight embarrassment and climbed back on top of her. My eyes bore into hers and suddenly I’m overcome with emotion.

She brought me so much comfort in so many ways. She was always there for me, even when the media made me feel like crap. She stood by me when there were rumors about me and another Kpop idol. She held me when I was so stressed that I felt that I just couldn’t go on. It was such a relief to have her back. In the short amount of time that I had believed that I lost her, it had felt as if the world was a black and white movie and I was only a side character to someone else’s much greater story. Now, I could see that without her, it was a place I never wanted to visit again. I was on the brim of tears, my breathing wavered. I ducked down kissing her passionately trying to stop the tears.

“I love you so damn m…much, I’m so sorry that I…hurt you.” I broke away from her tears were now freely streaming down my face. Her delicate hand reached to wipe the tears away, I take a second to breathe and regain my composure but only just. She reached up with both of her hands and wiped the streaming tears off of my burning cheeks with her thin thumbs. I caught one of her hands in my own and turned it towards my lips to I could peck a kiss onto her hand. A relieved smile made its way onto my face at her look of concern.

“I love you too Joonie,” she answered, tears pooling in her own hazel gaze. She didn’t have to say it. I could see it reflected back at me in the honey that oozed from her stare.

“It was so hard to be without you, please let’s never do that again,” I beg reaching down and gently pecking her lips.

I sniffled and chuckled ironically into her hair after noticing a couple of my tears drip onto her neck, “I’m sorry this isn’t how I meant to get you wet.” She gasped at my vulgarity, her eyes wide and angelic. Not for the first time, I wondered if I was somehow defiling a sacred being. How could someone look so innocent and yet so alluring all at once?

I giggled, the noise deep in my throat at her reaction. Her breath seemed to hitch as the sound hit her ears. Her eyes rolled back in her head deliciously in ecstasy. How I loved to taint this beautiful woman, and I would spend the rest of my life doing it if I could. If she would have me.

I continued to explore her body with the tips of my fingers. Nothing too rough, nothing that would leave further marks. Goosebumps erupted under my touch. After years of being together, I had learned what buttons to push to get her to react, to make her melt into my touch, but regardless of how many times I’d seen her naked form or had her in less than pure ways, she never failed to amaze me.

My hand slithered down to her core in small ‘s’ shapes. Feeling that she was sufficiently wet in other ways, I began rubbing small circles on her nub earning a breathy moan from her lips. Her hands grabbed at my hair as she pulled my face down to hers and caught my lips in another passionate kiss. This one seemed sweeter than the last.

I bit down on her red swollen lip sucking it into my mouth savoring the feeling of her plush lips on mine. She groaned, sucking my top lip in turn. I pulled away from her to catch my breath, my hand never stopping its ministrations at her core. Our noses brushed and I hummed happily at her. I nudged her chin with my nose. She let her head roll back, exposing her slender neck to me. I sloppily kissed my way down to her chest. I let my free hand wrap around her neck while my mouth made its way to her pebbled nipple. I licked small circles into the tender skin, knowing she loved it. She whimpered at my actions confirming my knowledge.

Her body began to shake with desire. I let the hand between her legs drop to her dripping opening. It pulsed, in anticipation.

With one finger, I pressed into the opening, feeling her slick walls surrounding it. She let out a breathy moan, her eyes were closed. The lips I had been sucking on earlier, between her white teeth. Her hair was spread around her like a halo further proving my angelic theory.

I sucked her nipple into my mouth nibbling at the raised bud for only a second before pulling away knowing how frustrated this move made her as I gently squeezed the sides of her throat.

“You okay Jagi,” I teased as I heard her groan in annoyance.

“I hate you,” she whispered, closing her eyes as I pressed against her g-spot.

I leaned up, close to her ear. So close that my lips brushed her stud earrings. I pressed them against the shell, kissing softly before speaking again.

“You’re about to hate me a whole,” I whispered, pausing as I pushed a second finger into her opening and a gasp escaped her swollen mouth, “lot more princess.”

“Joon,” she moaned, her back arching into my touch. I suckled on her ear lobe shortly before placing kisses all over her face stopping only to watch as her features twisted in pleasure as I pumped my fingers in and out of her.

Finally, I decided that she had had enough so I pulled my fingers out and away from her. I looked down her body and placed myself between her thighs by wrapping her legs around my waist and aligned myself with her heat.

“Can you just please...” The most beautiful sound escaped her pouty lips. I smiled at her adoringly. Even now, she was complaining. She was a brat, but she was my brat and I knew exactly how to shut her up.

I grabbed my member with one hand and her hip with the other, pushing it into her slowly making sure she felt no discomfort. I watched her expression shift as she hissed. I stilled making sure it wasn’t pain that caused this reaction, but when she opened her eyes and raised an eyebrow at me, I knew she was fine. I chuckled once again and sunk myself in all the way to the hilt of my shaft waiting for her to give me adjust the sensation.

“Okay, I’m good… please move, Namjoon,” she begged. If I could get harder, I did in that instant. I loved it when she begged.

I let myself get lost in her warmth and tightness. One of my hands reached between her legs to massage her sweet spot and the other went back to her neck placing just enough pressure not to stop her airflow but to diminish it. She began to squirm under me, I rubbed my thumb on her pretty lips. She lapped at it and sucked it into her mouth. I thrust into her, hard but slow. Our bodies slapping loudly against each other with every push.

I felt pure pleasure coursing through my body as I let my speed increase slightly. Her body tensed and she let out a loud moan between clenched teeth.

“I missed you so much princess,” I grunted, squeezing her neck a bit tighter, still careful not to squeeze too much.

“Joonie,” she moaned, and shock waves seemed to vibrate in my every muscle.

I sped up a bit more, letting the pleasure consume me. It was getting harder to keep the circles on her nub consistent and by the sounds of it she was starting to have trouble keeping her moans to herself.

“Joon, I’m close,” she mumbled reaching up and tangling her hands in my hair.

“Come for me Jagiya,” grunted, feeling my thrust become erratic and uncontrollable.

She yelled my name as if I had forgotten it, I began to rub faster circles into her. I knew I was close, but I was determined to make her climax before me. I rutted into her harder. I watched her breast bounce, as a groan escaped my lips.

“Right there.” She whisper-yelled. I captured her words in a kiss. I felt her clench around me. I thrust into her faster until I felt her release.

I felt her core spasm around my member. She came undone beautifully under me, but my enjoyment of a job well done was short-lived as my own pleasure began to build incessantly fueled by her orgasm expression.

With a few more thrusts I came inside of her. Panting, I leaned down and rested my forehead on hers. I slid in and out of her slowly milking my orgasm until oversensitivity overwhelmed us both.

I kissed her softly and laid my body on top of hers and wrapped my arms around her tired body holding her impossibly close.

“I’ll be right back, Princess.” She hummed softly at me. I walked quickly to our bathroom and grabbed some baby wipes and walked back to our bed. I turned her body to lay flat on her back, I chuckled at here blissed-out sleepy face.

“Let me clean you up a little,” she spreads here sore legs a bit, “We can take a nice warm bath tomorrow morning.”

She hums in approval as I finish wiping off any evidence of our intimacy and throw away the wipe.

“You’re washing the sheet tomorrow then,” she whispered with her lack of strength evident through her voice.

I chuckle, nodding, knowing that she couldn’t see me, but I would do as she asked. I lay down next to her and let her nuzzle her body into mine. Her body relaxed into mine and her breathing evened out. I whispered sweet nothings into her ear until I knew she was in a deep sleep. I kissed her damp for head feeling completely at peace in the world. I may have missed out on Paris, but as long as I was beside her, I didn’t need fancy times or bottles with difficult names that only she could pronounce to be truly and irrevocably happy. Finally, I felt my eyelids get heavy and I allowed myself to doze off as well in a heap of pure bliss.

masterlist

#kim namjoon #kim namjun #namjoonie #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon #bts #bts leader #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut reactions #bts smut #domjoon #but like soft domjoon #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fanfic

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rebelcap · 4 years

Text

We are not just friends —Part 2

Chris Evans x bi!latina!character (Sofia is a person of color, she's brown.)

Chris and Sofia meet when their best friends started dating, it all started at friends with loads of bumps on the road.

Warnings: drinking, smoking, drug use (weed), assault, Chris being Steve Rogers, commitment issues, my girl Sofia kinda messy, lots of fucking (eventually)

This is slow burn at its best, at least emotionally.

Series masterlist

Part 1 —

2. Exes.

The girls' apartment was cozy and overall comfortable, their little nest full of memorabilia of their almost fifteen-year friendship.

They were in the kitchen, Sofia getting an ice pack as the guys looked at the never-ending pictures. Chris was cracking up over a little collage of photos of her doing the most unattractive faces, the double chin was in every pic.

“This is the best thing ever,” Chris laughed as Luke snap a pic of the collage.

“Nooo!” Amanda said walking on them laughing and Luke crack up even more after seeing her face.

“This is cute, Mandy.” He exclaimed as she snatched the photos of his hands. Sofía let out a chuckle as she sneaks to see the pics, holding an ice pack to her hand.

“That's the essence of our friendship, embarrassing ourselves,” Sofía said with a proud smile.

“Why are we like this?” Mandy looking at the unflattering photos.

“Hell, if I knew.” Sofía shrugged as she grabbed a few shot glasses and looked at the guys. “Shots?”

At least six shots of vodka and the coffee table almost full of empty beer bottles. Music in the back as Mandy was restless on the couch, nagging Luke to go out dancing.

“Amanda, knock it off,” Sofía tells her as she meticulously rolls a joint as Chris watched her intently. A hand resting on the back of the couch, the other holding his beer and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the table.

“But I want to go dancing!” Mandy whined as She almost feels of the couch as Luke laughed.

Sofia without looking grabbed her cellphone and put some music and tell Amanda to dance and the very drunk blonde yaay! And started to dance or try to, Luke was all over that.

“You can't tell me,” Sofía said lifting the perfectly fat joint that she rolled and looked at Chris. “That this, isn't a beautiful thing?”

Chris laughs, throwing his head back feeling the lightness of being a bit wasted already.

“That's what I call skills,” Chris said with a smile as Sofia get up from the floor and sat down beside him, lighter in hand.

“What can I say, dude,” She said lighting the joint and took a drag, feeling how her lungs were filled with the smoke. “I'm really good with my hands.” She smiles as leaving the smoke escape through her lips.

Yeah, she's absolute trouble. Chris thought as she took a hit, realizing he liked trouble a lot. He looked at her intently, mostly because he was drunk and all inhibitions were out of the windows. "You're staring," She grabbed the joint from his fingers and looked up at his face.

He looked absolutely blazed, eyes half-open, a little smirk on his mouth, the snapback was to the side and he was slouching on the couch, it was… It Was a sight.

"You're so pretty," He said and Sofia snapped her head at him, laughing.

"Alright, big shot." She smiles as she put the joint on her mouth and took another drag. "I'm gonna dance," She pointed at Amanda and Luke, barely breathing as they were sucking face over there.

"Why don't you two stop eating in front of the poor?" Sofia interrupted them making Amanda laugh. "Look, I'm just here to ask you a question" She pointed at Luke.

"Me?" He pointed at himself, obviously hammered.

"Yea, look," She pointed at her back, at Chris. "Is he single? cause he looks comfy enough for me to sit on it, you know, "

"Oh, he likes you, "

"I know boy, I'm just asking if he single?"

"Ask him yourself," Luke tried to play coy attempting to land a hand at Chris but Mandy thought another way.

"No, he ain't."

"Well fuck," Sofia hummed and looked at Chris, he was fumbling on his phone. "Bummer."

—

Chris and Sofia kept drinking for a little white, which lead them to chat for a while. She was completely wasted, tired, and pretty comfy with Chris on the sofa.

"Ugh, my ex keeps bothering me," Sofia sigh as she looked her phone that was ringing non-stop.

"Crazy ex?," He asked looking at the screen, he read 'Tiffany' at the caller ID.

"Yes, she's probably drunk." Sofia pursed her lip and declined the call. "feeling guilty or something."

"What she did?," He asked and Sofia sigh scooting a little bit closer, they had their feet up on the coffee table and one of her legs was over Chris witch he had been caressing lovingly for the last thirty minute.

"She sucked the life out of me and I allowed it because I was in love with her," Sofia shrugged. "Make me fucking act like someone I'm not, it was a messy relationship."

"Oh," Chris sighed. "Sounded like me and one of my exes, I was so in love with her that made me act like a fucking idiot and paranoid all the time."

"She cheated on me and somehow twisted it around and blame me, " She shook her head. "And I took her back."

"One girl did the same to me but I did end things up, only to welcome her back with open arms like a month later." Chris rolled his eyes. "What a fucking idiot."

"Same, bro, same" She looked at him. "You still with her?"

"Nah, it was a couple of years back. But I'm back with another ex," He laughed as she shakes her head, smiling. "I'm that guy, break up, and then back together."

"Can't give up, eh?" She asked with a smile and Chris did too. Little cute moment obviously interrupted by her phone ringing back and Sofia just groaned.

"Imma pick up," She put the phone on speaker. "Look, girl. Stop calling me,"

"Sof I just, I missed the fuck out of you," She slurred, obviously drunk and she looked at Chris rolling her eyes.

"I don't,—" Sofia tried to respond but Tifanny started to rant about how much she wanted her back. They looked at each other and Chris pointed at the phone and muttered "Can I?"

"Be my guest," She agreed quickly and handed him the phone.

"Tiffany," He spoke and looked at her making a face.

"Who the fuck are you? Sofia are you fucking some guy!" The girl shouts, obviously upset.

"In fact, yes she is," Chris said and looked at Sofia, she had her hands on her mouth trying not to laugh. "She's my girlfriend."

"What the fuck!?, we just broke up—

" It's been like three months, get over it—" Sofia leans on the phone.

" Yeah, exactly and we're very happy with each other, " Chris explained." So stop bothering her, she will not be back. "

"You don't know that I love her, I know her you asshole!"

Sofía rolled her eyes again, what a fucking mess this girl was. "Tiffany, you're pathetic. I moved on, do the same." She said and heard in the background another voice, a girl that started talking to her, and Sofia recognizes the voice as the other woman she cheated. "Are you fucking kidding me? you called while you're with her? fuck you!"

"No, no it's not her," Tiffany said and heard the other girl on the back. "—what the fuck Tiffany, why are you calling her!"

"Woow, she's a fucking bitch," Chris observed. "Fuck you, Tiffany," He said at the phone and hung up. "You don't deserve that, at all."

"Yeah, maybe…" She said and sigh, leaning her head On Chris's shoulder. "Thanks for that, you're sweet."

"Don't worry about it," He said looking at her.

Sofía woke up in a warm embrace, still on the sofa. Her pillow was Chris's leg and the back of her head was practically pressed against his crotch. His head was resting in her hip and his arms wrap around her middle.

It was an innocent sixty-nine sleeping position, Sofia had to literally slide out of Chris into the floor and stay silent watching how he changed positions and kept sleeping, she covered him with a blanket and smile.

"You're kinda cute, " She nurtured and stretch herself and make her way to her bedroom yawning and grabbed a took a relaxing shower, and head to work, nursing a massive hangover.

Sophia was walking the brewery when Mandy called.

"Good morning baby, "

"Did you get Dick last night?" Mandy asked

"No, we chilled and he talked with to Tiffany, " She laughed "and we talked about our exes, "

"Yeah, he said that, " she laughed "He just left, invited our breakfast and then clean up with Luke. He's really Sweet, can see why he and Luke get along so good. "

"Yeah, " She said writing some things on her pad."I can see us hanging out with him, "

"Captain America, our friend?" Mandy asked and Sofia laughed.

"I guess,"

~~~~~~

Guys, thanks you so much for the feedback! Hope you all enjoyed this part as things will get little more into it on the next chapter while we explore their relationship between those two.If anyone want to get tagged, please let me know!

@letsdothemonstermash

#chris evans x poc!reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fic #chris evans x latina!

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stanbillyhargrove · 4 years

Text

Ghosts Chp 3

Billy x Katrina

A/N: this is a multi chapter series that will contain smut, angst, fluff, substance abuse

Billy's POV

"Steve, I think she cursed me."

I had rushed to Steve's apartment as soon as I left Katrina's. Rushed to tell him about breakfast and the text she'd sent me. He was barely containing his laughter behind his fist and was looking at me like I'd lost my mind.

Steve cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before asking, "you think she's a witch based on the fact that you can't cook?" He snickered a little, "and why would she curse you? So she can make you breakfast and give you a plant?"

I narrowed my eyes at him, "but she knew! She predicted it!"

"Or," he smirked, "you happened to burn your food the same day she sent you a random text. I mean, you can't cook for shit, Billy."

"Fuck you, Steve."

-- May

After the breakfast fiasco I'd been a little nervous around Katrina. She hadn't sent me any more weird texts but I didn't know what to do after that, was she psychic? Or trying to curse me? I could hear her talking sometimes, arguing with someone before slamming her door and disappearing for anywhere from a couple hours to a couple days. The past few days though had been quiet, I could hear her moving around her apartment but no voices. I almost turned away from our building's laundry room when I saw her, but I was curious and she saw me before I could turn around.

"Hey, you," she mumbled.

Katrina looked like she hadn't slept in days, she had last nights makeup still smeared under her eyes making them look even more sunken. Her now black and red hair was pulled up messily, sticking out in all directions like she hadn't bothered to brush it. She was wearing shorts that showed just the smallest hint of her ass with her knees tucked up under her chin. Damnit, she might be crazy or a witch or whatever but she's so fucking hot.

"Hey, Katrina. Haven't seen you in a while."

She hummed, "I've been around, just hiding."

"Hiding from whoever you keep arguing with?"

She smiled and tapped on her nose. I started one of the washing machines and leaned against it to watch her.

"Who is it? That you keep arguing with? Shitty ex boyfriend who won't leave you alone?"

She laughed a little, "she was my fiance actually."

"Oh, wow...so you're a lesbian? Cool, cool, cool...is that why you moved here? To get away from her?"

Katrina slid her legs down to the ground and I tried not to look at the way the leg of her shorts hung open, revealing too much.

"I'm bi actually. And yeah, tried to escape my old life..followed me though."

"Well, if you need someone to distract you for a while, you could call me."

She smirked, sidled up to me and got close, so fucking close and purred, "yeah? You gunna come to my rescue, pretty boy? Show me a good time to distract me from my past?"

I could feel my cock thickening in my sweatpants as her hand slid up my arm and willed myself to stay in control.

I swallowed hard and choked out, "if that's what you want."

Fuck, why does she make me so nervous?

A lazy smile stretched across her face and she moved away just as one of the dryers started to chime. I swear, she made a show of bending over to pull her clothes into a basket. Katrina was faced away from me so I could see her ass stretch out from under her shorts as she bent down, I wanted to sink my teeth into her, leave bite marks hidden among her black tattoos. I had to adjust myself quickly to hide my boner before she turned around.

Katrina turned to look me up and down, "come and find me when your...load is done."

Oh jesus, this girl is trouble.

"Fuck," I growled against her lips.

I'd practically run up to my apartment as soon as my laundry was finished and realized that Katrina was nowhere to be found. I spent the rest of the afternoon sitting in my apartment, growing increasingly more pissed off until I decided to go out in search of someone to take my frustration out on. Brought some bubblegum blonde, Tiffany or some shit I couldn't remember, home late at night, both of us very intoxicated.

We wasted no time getting into my apartment and ripping each other's clothes off and now I had her pressed up against the wall, my hands gripping her ass tight to hold her up. Her smooth legs wrapped around my hips, keeping us close together as I thrust up into her wet heat.

The girl's one hand was twisted in my hair, the other digging into my shoulder almost painfully. She gave a breathy laugh before pulling our mouths together for a sloppy kiss. A hard pull on my hair had me moaning against her and I reciprocated by thrusting into her as hard as I could, which earned me a gasp. She started to pull her head back but I caught her bottom lip in my teeth before she could go too far. When I finally let her go she buried her head against my neck, whining loudly.

"Yes, Billy, please," she moaned.

"Fuck," I groaned, thrusting harder as I felt my orgasm approaching.

It didn't take long before she bit down on my shoulder, her body tensing as she cried out. I continued my pace through her orgasm, feeling her walls pulse around me and finally let go when she started to come down, thrusting hard as I filled her.

We stayed there for a moment, catching our breath before I slowly let her down. There was no softness after, she just started to collect her clothes on shaking legs. The usual routine for my hook ups, a quick fuck before stumbling home. My dick twitched when I watched her bend over to pick up her underwear. I could see my cum leaking out from her pink, swollen lips and licked my lips as I stepped forward to grab her hips. Maybe I can get her to stay a while longer.

She giggled and pulled away from me, "I should really get going."

Was it that I wanted her to stay or was it that I was still angry that the girl I really wanted to fuck had ditched me? I was pretty sure I knew the answer, so I decided not to think about it too much and let her leave as I grabbed another beer out of the fridge.

No matter how spent I was, the thought of Katrina's ass stretching out of her shorts, still had me frustrated and horny like a fucking teenager. After tossing and turning in bed for a while, I settled on taking an icy shower to try to calm myself before going to sleep.

"Hey! Wakey, wakey, Billy!"

I woke up in the morning to the sound of voices in my apartment and reluctantly rolled out of bed to investigate.

Found Katrina and Steve huddled on my couch laughing and devouring breakfast sandwiches with three coffee cups on the table.

"What the fuck is going on?" I grumbled.

Steve looked at me innocently, "there he is! Katrina texted me for breakfast."

I stared at him humbly for a second, "Katrina texted you for breakfast...at my apartment?"

"Well she said you had a late night visitor so we thought we'd be nice and bring breakfast to you."

Katrina was trying and failing to stifle her laughter when I glared at them.

"I hate you," I mumbled, joining them on the couch and digging into a greasy sandwich.

Katrina wiggled her eyebrows at me, "so...?"

"So what?" I asked around a mouthful of egg.

"Where is she?"

"Gone," I snapped.

"Oh, Billy, did you not do good enough for her to stay?" Steve joked.

I scowled, they're having too much fucking fun with this.

Katrina kept the joke rolling with, "what happened, big guy? Pop too soon? Wait...was that like, your...no way!" She looked at Steve, fake surprise on her face, "he popped his cherry!"

They collapsed into a fit of giggles before Katrina looked back at me, "now you have to marry her!"

"I hate you both," I grumbled, "get out."

Steve shook his head, "no way! We're hanging out all day, already made the plans!"

"I really need new friends."

Their plans consisted of touring around New York and doing stupid shit like mini golfing. It took hours before Steve left to go to the bathroom and I was left alone with Katrina for a minute.

"Where did you go yesterday?" I asked, trying not to sound pissed.

She turned and gave me a look. Batted her fucking bedroom eyes at me.

"You were taking too long, with your...load. I went to Steve's instead. No hard feelings right?"

I heard Steve coming back before I could think of a reply, before I could growl out a threat to take her right then and there. Spent the rest of the afternoon pissed at both of them until we made our way back to our apartments where they sprung more plans on me.

"Get ready, pretty boy we're going out!"

I groaned, "do we have to? Aren't you guys tired?"

I knew Steve always had tons of energy but I was surprised that Katrina was still wanting to go out. Yesterday when I saw her she looked like she hadn't slept in days. She did seem better today though, more energized.

"Come on, Billy," Katrina whined, "we wanna go out and have fun."

Steve let her try to convince me, knowing that she had a better chance than he did. And she did have a better chance, cause as soon as she fluttered her big green eyes at me I knew I was going out tonight.

Katrina's hips swayed hypnotically to the pounding music in the club. Unfortunately though, they weren't swaying against me, they were against another girl's instead. I was leaning against the bar, nursing a drink and trying not to drool over the way her tiny black dress was riding up her thighs. We'd been here for a couple hours and even though I'd been approached by a couple girls, I couldn't focus on anything but Katrina.

"Hey man," Steve called over the music, "how you doing?"

I locked eyes with Katrina over his shoulder, watched her pull her lip between her teeth as she danced.

"I think I'm gunna go home."

Steve looked over at her and waved, "yeah, me too. Gotta get some sleep before work."

@charmed-asylum @champagnesugamama

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy hargove imagine #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington #billy hargrove series

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bbyyoungblood · 5 years

Text

The Life You Deserve | g.d.

Grayson Dolan worked hard to provide for his family, but Y/N’s disgruntled father and their life on the wrong side of the tracks are certainly obstacles to overcome. In the end, though, Grayson promised to give you the life you deserve.

“My mom invited us over for dinner.”

“She did what?”

Grayson Dolan was a hard working man living in a town where last names matter. Unfortunately for Grayson’s little family, the Dolan name did not matter, but you wore that name with all the pride in the world.

See, Grayson wasn’t supposed to be your future because you’re maiden name mattered in this town. Your maiden name would’ve got you a hotshot husband with a golf addiction. Your maiden name would’ve got you one of the big fancy houses on the east side of town. But instead of embracing the last name you had like your brothers and father did, you despised it, intentionally doing things to taint the name while a teenager. You were a disappointment in your father’s eyes. The biggest disappointment, though, came when you were sixteen in the form of a mechanic from the westside, Grayson, and then eventually your doe-eyed daughter, Dakota.

When you were sixteen and brought Grayson home for the first time, your father thought it was a joke, just another one of your rebellions, because you wouldn’t really bring a washed up nobody from the westside into his gorgeous home, would you?

Well you did, and your father did not like that at all.

That night your father banned Grayson from ever coming back into his house again. Little did you know then that the ban would literally mean forever. Even after you got married and had Dakota, Grayson was not allowed in, nor was Dakota for that matter, being she was half Grayson.

You never understood why your father could never give Grayson a chance, and it pains you to see what the lack of support from your parents did to him. Grayson always showed your parents the utmost respect, always calling them “ma’am” and “sir”. Your parents didn’t even show up to your wedding. When Dakota was born, your mom came with gifts and love for her new granddaughter, but your father was nowhere in sight. Later you would find out that your mom had to go behind your father’s back to even come to the hospital. This killed you because Dakota was an innocent baby of your fathers own blood that, now four years later, your father had yet to meet.

So yeah, after all the shit your parents, sorry your father, had put your little family through, Grayson was surprised to hear that your mother had invited them to dinner.

“My mom invited us over for dinner tonight.” You had known about this dinner for about a week now, but nervous about what Grayson would say, you decided to tell him last minute.

“I heard you the first time, love. May I ask why your parents had a sudden change of heart and are inviting us over for the first time. Ever.”

“Michael and James are home from a big business trip, I guess, and my mom wants all her kids and grandkids under the same roof. I don’t know, Gray, but we’re going.”

Michael and James, the sons your father always wanted and the ones he got. Michael and James had everything. They had the golf addiction, the job, the house, the perfect proper wives and children, and most importantly, they had your father’s support. If your dad would have been an all around asshole to all of his children, equally, maybe it wouldn’t have hurt so bad. Unfortunately, he was only an asshole to you, and your family.

“Y/N, why are we going? You really want to put yourself, put Dakota, through that?” You rolled your eyes at this, walking to the fridge to grab Dakota some fruit for breakfast. All you’ve ever wanted was for your parents to love you, Dakota, and Grayson the way they loved your siblings and their families.

“We’re going because this is the first time they’ve ever reached out to us, Gray. My mom actually called me and asked for all of us, not just me, to come. She even said she had a birthday present for Dakota. We’re going. Even if it’s only for a little while.” Grayson just huffed at this rolling his eyes before standing up and giving Dakota a kiss on the cheek.

Walking over to you he spoke sternly, “fine, but if they start saying anything about Dakota, we’re leaving, okay?” Grayson gave you a kiss on the cheek and then the lips while you nodded your head. “I’ve got to get to work, I’ll see you later, I love you.”

“I love you too. And don’t be late home tonight! We have to be there at 6:30 sharp!” You called after him as he walked out the door, closing it softly.

You sighed, thinking about tonight because it was either going to go swimmingly, or be an absolute shit show.

It was now 6:00 and you were a nervous wreck. This was the first time you were going to see your father in two years and your brother Michael, three. James was the middle child and had much more empathy than Michael, so he kept in touch. Even bringing his family to Dakota’s fourth birthday party last weekend.

You were a pacing mess. You got dressed for this dinner an hour early, for no particular reason than you needed to get your mind off the obvious. Now, just finishing changing Dakota into a dress your mother sent her, you were standing behind Grayson as he tied his tie in the mirror.

“Gray, I’m nervous.”

Being the sarcastic man he his he replied, “no really? I couldn’t tell by your persistent power walking down the hallway.”

You rolled your eyes, not needing the extra irritation, “shut up. This is a big deal!”

Grabbing your hands, trying to ease the nerves, Grayson put his forehead against yours, “Y/N, everything is going to be okay. We’re going to go over there and have dinner and catch up and everything is going to go smooth. You got to calm down, though, okay?” You just nodded your head against his while closing your eyes. He was right, nerves were not what you needed right now. You needed to be the level headed, poised woman your mother raised you to be.

“Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, I’ll grab Dakota and put her in the car.”

The car ride across town to your parent’s house was extremely quiet, even your four year old that never shut up, fell silent. When Grayson pulled up in front of the house you felt all the air leave your lungs. You hadn’t been inside your childhood home in years.

Grayson looked over to you with worried eyes, “You ready, Love?”

“Yes, let’s go.” With that you unbuckled yourself and opened your door, Grayson getting Dakota from her carseat. The walk to the front door felt like an eternity and then the wait after pushing the door bell felt even longer. Finally, the door opened to reveal your mother smiling ear to ear.

“Y/N! How are you, dear? Come in, come in!” Your mother ushered you in while pulling you into a hug before letting go and turning to Grayson and Dakota. “Grayson? Oh my is that my grand baby? Come here sweetheart!” Your mom pulled Dakota out of Grayson’s arms and gave her all the kisses and hugs you could have hoped she would give her. Finally calming down a little your mom looked back over to where you and Grayson were standing, “I’m so happy you two are here. How are you?”

Smiling back at her, “We’re really good, Mom. Really good.”

“That’s amazing to hear! Well don’t be strangers, Michael, Amanda, James, Tiff, and the kids are in the living room. Dinner should be ready in fifteen.” Your mom handed Dakota back to Grayson before walking back to the kitchen. Grayson looked at you with big eyes, this was already going better than he expected.

Deciding you should probably go catch up with your siblings, you and Grayson started towards the living area. When you walked in the fancy room, the conversation went quiet, Michael looking up to you with a sinister smile, your heart dropping.

“Well would you look what the cat dragged in,” Micael was always trying to be a funny guy, but in the end he was really just a raging asshole. Thinking on her feet, and trying to avoid a fight happening in front of a child, James’ wife, Tiffany, got up and walked over to Grayson, taking Dakota out of his arms.

She smiled over at you with sad eyes before looking back at Dakota, “Kota, how about we go find cousin Hannah, how about that, huh?” Dakota just nodded and rested her head on Tiffany’s chest. You were always thankful for the love James and his family showed you, and you were even more thankful Tiff cared enough about your daughter to make sure she didn’t hear the hateful things that were most likely going to go come out of Michael’s mouth.

You took a deep breath, looking to Grayson for reassurance before looking back to Michael, “Hi, Mike, Amanda.” Being the pretentious bitch she is, Amanda just laughed at your attempt to be civil. Michael’s smile only grew and that was starting to make Grayson mad.

“What makes you think you can just walk back in to mom and dad’s house with that boy and your kid after all these years, Y/N?” Michael always picked on you.

“Mom called and invited me, Mike. She wanted all of us together,” You squeaked out. He just laughed again.

“Too bad no one wanted you here, baby sister.” You looked to Grayson and you could tell he was getting angrier by the second. Finally, seeing you almost in tears, James spoke up.

“Can you stop being an asshole for two seconds? Mom wanted all of us here, Mike. Can’t you just be happy to see your sister for once?” Michael just scoffed, and would have probably let the conversation go on longer if your mom wouldn’t have walked in to tell the tension filled room that dinner was ready.

With a huff, everyone in the room got up and walked towards the play room where the kids were to get them ready for dinner. After grabbing Dakota, you and Grayson walked into the dinning room, only to be met with the missing man of the night, your father. His jaw clenched at the sight of you and his fist tightened at the sight of Grayson. Knowing you should say something to ease the tension you managed a whisper, “Hi, dad.”

“Nice to see you, Y/N.” He looked at you with disgust before nodding his head over to your upset husband, “Grayson.” Being the man Grayson was, he just gave your father a nod back.

“Well isn’t this just going to be a wonderful meal,” Michael spat out sarcastically. In all honestly though, you thought the same.

After everyone settled into their seats and got their food, things started to go smoother. James, Michael, and your father were talking about work, your mother and sister-in-laws were talking about god knows what, and you were talking to Grayson. That was until Michael decided to open his mouth again.

“So Grayson, are you still working at that run down car place, or did someone else have the nerve to hire you?” Grayson was shocked at the fact Michael was even talking to him. Talking a minute he finally replied.

“Uh, yeah, I own it, actually.” Your family’s heads all popped up after Grayson spoke, especially your father’s.

Michael composed his shock quickly before coming up with something witty to say, “You actually bought that dump? And you’re actually running it?”

“Randy, the previous owner, was good to me. When he retired he gave it to me and my brother. He wanted me to build a legacy of hard work for Dakota, and whatever kids we may have in the future. So yeah, I have it and yeah, I actually run it.” There were many things you could talk shit on Grayson about, but his family and his business were not one of them. He ran that business with everything he had, it was his livelihood and to hell with anyone who couldn’t respect what he had built.

Then it finally happened, your father opened his mouth. “And this ‘business’ if that's even what you want to call it, provides for your so called family?”

“Dad, what do you mean? Of course it’s a business. It brings home money to pay all the bills and then some, just like yours does.” You were extremely upset that the first few words your father decided to speak to you were hateful.

“Never, and I mean never, Y/N, compare my business to that junkyard your husband runs.”

“With all due respect, sir, they may be completely different types of businesses but they bring in money all the same.” Grayson was angry. He was angry at himself for allowing his family to even come tonight and he was angry at the disrespect you were receiving.

“Exactly, dad. That junkyard has given me the humble life I wanted. Grayson has provided for me. What’s the difference between what he is doing and what you did for mom, for us?” This was most definitely not a conversation for the dinner table.

“The difference is that it was built by me, not by some boy from the wrong side of the tracks. Not by a boy who is nothing but a piece of shit on the side of the highway.”

Hearing how much hate your father still had harbored for Grayson after all these years really put things into perspective. Your family really didn’t want you, and that really fucking sucked.

“Honey! That is no way to talk to your daughter or her husband! There are children around!” Your mom was furious about the way your father was treating you, just wanting her family to be whole again, just wanting to be apart of Dakota’s life.

“Shut up, Charlotte! You’ve done enough! Inviting her here, acting like everything is fine! Y/N is a disgrace, an absolute disgrace! I want her and her bastard family out. Now.” This caused protests from James.

“Dad, really? She's done nothing-”

“She’s done everything! I gave her everything and she gave it all up for a boy! I want her out of my house!”

The room fell silent as tears started to roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you whipped your cheeks with the cloth napkin and stood up. With no words you walked over to the kids table, picked up Dakota and started to walk out of the dining room. As you reached the doorway, Dakota spoke up, “Mommy, why don’t they love us?”

This took your breath away, and broke everyone's hearts in the dining room simultaneously. Trying to compose an answer, you took a deep breath and said, “I don’t know, baby, but I love you, so so much. Never forget that.”

Tears started falling down your mother’s face, as well as Grayson’s. He was still sitting at the table watching the whole situation unfold in front of him. He sat there at the table until he heard the front door close and then he stood up. Trying to be the big person, he started to walk out of the room, but the little devil on his shoulder was telling him to say something. Grayson turned around and looked at your father right in the eyes, “You do understand how incredibly messed up all of this is, right?”

Your father was shocked at Grayson’s tone. Taken back, “Pardon?”

Grayson rolled his eyes, “You know, hating your daughter for falling in love, hating your grand daughter because she came for love. Pretending to be this big man who deserves all the goddamn respect in the world but can’t even give it out in the slightest. Do you know how much Y/N loves you? Shit, she talks about you all the time, but I could bet a million dollars that she never crosses that selfish mind of yours.”

You could hear a pin drop, so Grayson continued, “When Dakota was born, I left to go get a sandwich and when I came back, Y/N was telling her about her grandparents and how much they were going to love her. That stupid rhino Charlotte got her is the only damn thing that gets Dakota to fall asleep. But neither one of you have been, or even tried to be in her life! And for her, a four year old to get the vibe her own family doesn’t love her makes me sick.”

No one had any words for Grayson, but he had many more to share. “You know, when Y/N first brought me home, you told me I didn’t deserve her. And in all honesty you were right, I don’t. There is not a damn person in the whole entire world that deserves that beautiful woman, but I’m sure as hell going to do everything in my power to give her and Dakota the lives they deserve. So, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to take my wife and daughter out for ice cream to try and mend the heart you broke.”

And Grayson did just that, because you were his girl, his first love. He wanted nothing but the best for you and Dakota, and if that meant feeding his four year old ice cream for dinner he'd do just that.

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