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rebelwrites · 3 years

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Restoration

Jax Teller x Daughter Reader

“You gonna actually behave for your father this week?” You mum asked as you packed your bag.

“Maybe, depends if he pisses me off or not” you shrugged.

The thing was your mum and dad split about 4 years ago, a year after Abel was born. They had you at a young age, at 15 to be precise, you was now 18 and had seen their relationship completely fall apart, you saw how he treated your mum towards the end of the relationship and you hated it, you hated how he made your mum feel, how you saw the whole thing. However you were grateful Abel was still too young to understand what was going on.

“Y/N please, I know you don’t get along with him but he is your dad at the end of the day” mum sighed.

“Not gonna change my opinion on him” you laughed.

Even though your parents weren’t together anymore they never actually filed for a divorce.

“Just try” mum said placing her hand on your shoulder “for Abel at least, it’s hard enough on him as it is”

“And it’s not hard for me mum” you spat “try going through school where everyone is obsessed with the sons, constantly badgering me about them, about dad, asking if the fucking rumours are true”

You knew that your mum wasn’t completely innocent in the whole relationship break down. So you had an attitude with them both.

The drive to Teller-Morrow was silent, neither you or your mum spoke because you were your father’s daughter at the end of day, your mum always said it was like having a female Jax in the house, the way you held yourself, your attitude, your temper. So no words were spoken just for Abel’s sake, he didn’t need to see his sister and mum biting each other’s heads off.

Climbing out of the car, you grabbed your bag from the boot, before wandering off to find your uncles, at least you had a good relationship with them, it was just the relationship with your dad that was rocky.

You didn’t get it, he was such a good father to Abel, but with you it was a different story, one of his biggest regrets was you seeing the breakdown happen, all the arguments that happened when you were younger. Since then you saw the man that you once saw as your hero as the bad guy.

“Hey kiddo” Jax grinned, opening his arms to you.

“Whatever dad” you huffed walking by him, dumping your bag on the picnic bench before placing a cigarette in your mouth.

“She’s in a mood, sorry Jax” you heard mum say, making you roll your eyes. “Give her a couple of days and she should calm down”

“She’s so much like me it’s scary” he sighed as he watched you laugh with Tig and Happy.

“If you’re gonna talk about me can you at least go somewhere where I can’t bloody hear you” you snapped not looking at them.

Jax knew that with both his kids being here with him for the week, he was going to try his hardest to mend the bridges that had once been burnt. He wanted nothing more than getting his little girl back.

“I will speak with her” Jax nodded as he took Abel into his arms, who was grinning at the sight of his daddy.

At least one of his kids didn’t hate him.

However he had a plan, he knew you loved bikes, so he had one sat in the garage waiting to be restored and he was hoping it was something you could do together and then he could teach you to ride. He knew it wouldn’t magically fix the relationship but at least it would give you a memory that wasn’t bad.

Your mum had now left, which meant you were stuck with your dad for the next week, no doubt it would be a week of you looking after Abel, it always was when you were here, the club came before you. It always had and always would.

“Table in 5” Jax shouted as he walked into the club, he didn’t miss the eye roll that came from you, he knew what you thought, you had only been here 10 minutes and he was putting the club before you. But this time would be different.

“Okay so everyone knows my relationship with Y/N is very much on the rocks right now” Jax sighed running his hand over his face. “And I know it’s my fault and I want to fix that, so this week I only want to be involved in club business if the shit has hit the fan. Anything else speak to Chibs, I need to fix things with my little girl before it is too late”

Everyone nodded, they knew how much Jax loved you, you was his first born at the end of the day and it killed him knowing that you hated him.

“Anything we can do to help we are here” Happy nodded.

“Thanks Hap but this is something I need to do on my own, I created this mess so I need to fix it” Jax sighed “If it can be fixed”

It was now Wednesday and Jax still hadn’t made any progress, the bike lay untouched in the garage, and you hadn’t spoken more than a few words a day to him.

“Uncle Hap am I being a bitch?” You sighed looking up at him as you lit a smoke.

“Honestly kiddo, I know where you are coming from but he is the only dad you are gonna get” Happy said placing his hand on yours. “I know the reasons you have for hating Jax but he misses his little girl, I’m not saying forgive him straight away but stop shutting him out”

“I miss my dad” you sighed “but you didn’t hear me say that”

“My lips are sealed” Happy nodded “you know he took a step back from the club this week to spend time with you and Abel”

“I didn’t know” you sighed running your hand over your face.

“I think he wants to restore a bike or something with you” Hap smiled kissing your head “he’s in the garage”

Trudging into the garage with your head hung low, you felt guilty about how you went off at dad this morning.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled, not looking up.

You heard him sigh and his footsteps getting closer to you.

Talk about irony, the radio had started playing bad husband, scoffing as dad placed his hand on your shoulder.

You can be a liar and a good father A good dad, but a bad husband

“Guess the song is 90% right” you sighed “you are a good father to Abel at least”

“Hey look at me kiddo” Dad said lifting your chin. “My biggest regret in life was letting you see all the fights between me and your mum. I know that has done so much damage to our relationship but I never stopped loving your or your mum okay”

You stayed silent, you didn’t know what to say.

Forever be a hero in my eyes, But there’s always another side. To a good father. A great dad, but a bad husband

“Look me and your mum still love each other and we probably always will” he sighed “we just don’t work well together okay but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you”

All I want is for us not to hurt. And it’s been an exhaustive search to find the words

The song was basically saying everything you couldn’t.

But I’m not so sure how to close this. I just don’t know how some people can be so good At one thing and so fucked at a whole ‘nother, shit, it’s no wonder

You both just stood there not saying a word as Jax pulled you into his arms holding you tight.

“I’m not saying we have to go back to being as close as we once were but I want a chance, a chance to mend the bridges I burnt, I want to be in your life and not as someone you hate” Jax whispered.

Nodding your head, you sniffed as a tear fell down your cheek, this was the most you had talked in a year. All you wanted to hear over the past year was that your dad still loved you.

“You don’t have to say anything yet sweetheart” dad whispered kissing your head “now what do you say to helping your old man fix this bike up and then I would like it if you let your old man teach you how to ride”

“I’d like that” you mumbled.

The next few days flew by and your mum had arrived to pick you and Abel up. Pushing yourself off the bench you walked over to her with a slight smile on your face.

“Come on, let’s get you home” mum said.

Glancing over to your dad you smiled softly before turning back to your mum.

“Actually mum, I think I’m gonna stick around here a bit longer” you nodded feeling Jax place his hand on your shoulder squeezing it softly. “I wanna stay with dad, we still have a bike to finish”

Your mum stood staring at you, confusion spread all over her face.

“You want to willingly stay?” She questioned

“Yup” you nodded.

“Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” She laughed before turning to Jax “you okay with her staying?”

“Course I am” he beamed at the fact you wanted to stay with him longer.

As soon as you said bye to your mum, you headed back into the garage leaving Jax stood there in his own world.

“Come on dad the bike isn’t gonna fix its self” you laughed rolling your sleeves up.

The hours flew by and you was both covered in grease, Chibs walked outside hearing all the laughter coming from the garage, a smile formed on his face as he snapped a photo of the two of you before walking back into the club house.

“Okay a know normally a would bring this ta table but no one is to disturb Jackie Boy, a don’t care wha it is, if it’s club business, Ye arms fallen off or Ye are on fire, ye come ta me” Chibs smiled leaning against the bar. “Tha is until further notice, this is wha they both need”

Everyone nodded in agreement, it was nice to see you and Jax not at each other’s throats and they knew that the fact you wanted to stay here meant you really wanted to rebuild the relationship

Standing back from the bike something clicked.

“Why does this bike look so familiar?” You asked.

“Well princess it was your grandads” Jax grinned draping his arm around your shoulder.

“JT’s” you said looking up and he nodded. “Wait and you are just letting me have once we have fixed her up?”

“That’s the plan” Jax laughed “he would have wanted you to have it and it’s better than it sitting gathering dust”

You were in awe, you knew how much this bike meant to him. Wrapping your arms around him you gave him a tight hug.

Neither of you talked about much other than the bike, outside of the garage you were slowly building things back up, you both knew it would take longer than a week but it was a start.

“So your mum says you’ve been getting into trouble at college?” He asked as you were packing the tools up.

“Meh” you shrugged “someone said something, I didn’t like it so I fucking punched them and broke there nose. No biggie”

Jax couldn’t help but smirk, you were exactly like him, in so many ways.

“You can’t say anything dad you taught me talking was boring when you can fight it out” just as you said it an idea popped into your head. Spinning round on the balls of your feet you grinned at your dad.

“No, nope happening” He laughed when he realised what you was thinking “me and you aren’t going at it in the ring” he chuckled.

“Why do you think you will lose old man” you taunted.

“Nope it’s not that” he said looking up “I am not boxing with my daughter”

“You’re just scared because you know I’m gonna beat your ass” you giggled squaring up to him.

He knew you weren’t gonna back down. You was a Teller at the end of the day.

“Fine but if you get hurt you are telling your mum it was your idea” Jax sighed in defeat.

And with that you ran off into the clubhouse to tell everyone.

It was now 7pm and Tig was wrapping your fists.

“You sure about fighting your dad kiddo?” He asked.

“Uncle Tiggy I’m sure” you nodded “we need this, well I need this. If I’m gonna let go of the past I need to do this”

“Okay then” he smiled kissing your fist “beat the shit out of your old man”

You were now standing face to face with your dad in the ring. He knew what was happening, and he wasn’t going to fight back, he had overheard what you said to Tig. So if beating the shit out of him was what you needed to forgive him then that is what he was going to let you do.

Punch after punch, you felt the anger flow through your fists, you were fuelled by every bad memory, everything he did and he just let the punches keep coming.

Your emotions got the better of you as you scream, pounding your fists against his chest as you burst into tears. As soon as this happened Jax wrapped his arms around you, dropping to his knees holding you tight.

“That’s it princess let it all out, all the anger, all the pain” he whispered rubbing your back. “I’m never gonna leave you okay, no matter what happens with me and your mum, you will always have your old man in your corner. My biggest regret is you saw everything happen, I never wanted you to feel like I loved Abel more than you, you are my little girl, my princess and I love you”

Once you had calmed down, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you no longer felt an immense hatred towards your dad.

It had been a couple of days after the ‘fight’ and you had actually started to open up. The bike was finished and you were just putting the tools away.

“I want to drop out of college” you said “it’s really not for me, I struggle with the exams and coursework”

“You know whatever you decide I will support you” Jax smiled softly at you, hee knew where you was coming from, he was exactly the same when it came to tests and the theory behind things. “If you did drop out what would you do?”

“Actually I wanna be a mechanic” you said looking up. “Maybe I could work here”

“Why don’t you sleep on the idea and if you really want to drop out then we will get it all sorted” he said kissing your head. “Now what do you say we take her for a spin?”

“You think I’m ready for the roads” you laughed.

“You are a natural” he grinned tossing you your helmet “it’s in your blood”

The rest of the day was spent riding round the streets charming, a smile on your face and your relationship with your dad well on the road to being what it once was. Never in a million years you would have thought that restoring JT’s bike would actually restore your relationship as well.

#Jax Teller #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy x reader

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berrynarrybanana · 4 years

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Me and You Together

A/N: Hello! I would like to say first of all that ^ is not my gif. I had it saved on my computer from somewhere and it just felt perfect for this. I do love my little sweet pea and frat boy Harry, but I also feel like I’ve done them dirty in this fic. I wanted to add more angst, but we all know I’m shit at that kind of stuff bc I’m soft at heart. Anywho, I really hope that you enjoy this and I just want to thank the lovely @stellarboystyles for putting together this little fic challenge. Congrats on 3 years babe! I hope that you like this story and that I have done this celebratory moment justice!

Word Count: 11.9 k

Warnings: Alcohol, smut, pining, Louis being a dickhead, a mean roommate

Trope: Best Friends to Lovers with Frat Boy Harry

Prompt: “Just sit on my fingers. Yeah, just like that.” (this is all the way at the end tbh, just a heads up lol)

P.s I know nothing about frat’s honestly and I just tried to avoid that the best that I could but fratboy!h lives in my mind rent free and I wanted to write it so....yeah.

September

Piper’s POV

I rolled my head back on my neck, looking up at the ceiling as my roommate sighed.

“Has anyone told you that you’re a selfish bitch?” Carli asked, her perfectly manicured nail resting on the cheap, wooden door of our dorm room. “I’m trying to unwind and relax after an extremely hard week and you’re ruining it for me.”

“I live here too!” I felt my brows pull together in frustration as I adjusted my bag on my sore shoulders, shifting from foot to foot. “The least you can let me do is come in and change before you start fucking.”

“You’re killing my mood!” She groaned, holding her hand out. “Give me your fucking bag and tell me what you need.”

“Carli-”

“Tell me what you need or I’m shutting this door in your face, I swear to god.” She snapped, her brows arching up as she wiggled her fingers at me. “You have five seconds.”

“Fine!” I said, shrugging my bag off my tired shoulders. “I need my purse, a black t-shirt, and a jacket.”

“Great.”

She slammed the door in my face, flicking the lock as I brushed my hands over my face angrily.

College was not supposed to be like this.

The next four years of my life were meant to be spent making new friends and partaking in fun activities on campus. So far, the only person I knew was Carli and she most definitely hated my guts with a burning passion. I wasn’t sure why she hated me so much when I mainly kept to myself, hunched over my desk with headphones on for most of the night when I studied. I hardly ever talked to Carli besides the odd argument about my typing being too loud and my presence being too...obvious. I hated every second of college so far and this wasn’t helping me at all.

I was moments away from having a breakdown, the build up creeping up my throat as I stood there in the hall, waiting for Carli as everyone else stared at my back. I tried not to let their prying eyes bother me, but I could feel the hairs standing up on the back of my neck as I crossed my arms over my chest. I tried to distract my mind, thinking about where I was going to go while Carli got her rocks off in our shared room. Maybe the library? Maybe a cafe?

Just as I started listing off cafes in my head, the door opened just a crack.

“Here’s your stuff, don’t come home before midnight.” She stuck a hand out, her voice muffled by the door. I rolled my eyes, grabbing my things from her hands. “Bye, Pippi!”

“It’s Piper, you unbearable asshole.” I sighed, holding my stuff close to my chest as frustrated tears started to accumulate behind my eyes. “I hope you don’t have an orgasm.”

I turned on my heels, ready to storm towards the communal bathroom so I could change and collect myself before leaving. I only made it halfway down the hall when I heard someone shouting behind me. I wasn’t sure they were actually calling out for me until I felt a hand on my shoulder. I stopped in my tracks, sniffling as I reached up to wipe at my cheeks.

“Piper, hold on.” The girl who was calling my name stepped in front of me, letting out a shuddery breath. She only had eyeshadow on one of her perfectly shaped eyes and a makeup brush in her hand as she stopped. “I just wanted to say that I am so sorry your roommate just did that to you. You can use my room to change if you’d like? I know the communal bathroom doesn’t always offer the most privacy and my roommate is never home. I’ll stand outside and everything!”

“You don’t have to do that.” I sniffled before offering her a forced smile. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with teasing right now. “But thank you.”

“I insist.” Her brown eyes looked softer as she spoke, her hand falling to her side. “My name is Eleanor. I think we have Modern English together.”

“Piper.” I said. “Are you sure you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “I don’t mind it at all, babes.”

Eleanor left me in her room to get dressed, politely standing outside as I collected myself.

I took a few deep breaths, trying to compose myself as I stripped out of the blouse I had been wearing all day. I pulled my black t-shirt on, huffing when I realized that this wasn’t the one I actually needed. This one was meant for darker jeans and a pair of heeled boots. This top was meant for parties and bars, not a cafe. The criss crossed pattern was far too fancy for a late night cup of coffee and a lonely piece of cheesecake.

When I opened the door, my old shirt bundled up in my hand, I smiled at Eleanor.

She looked over my outfit, her eyes growing wide.

“You look great!” She said. “Do you have plans tonight?”

“I was just gonna go to Fitz and Co for coffee and dessert.” I gave her a nervous chuckle, clutching my old shirt in my hands. “Probably going to wander around campus after to kill time.”

“Don’t take offense,” She gave me a sweet smile, her accent growing thicker with each word she spoke. I hadn’t noticed it all that much before when my emotions were on overdrive and my mind was swirling with anger. “But that sounds absolutely dreadful and you deserve to have a little bit of fun. It’s Friday night for fuck’s sake and we’re in Uni!”

“I don’t really know anyone on campus.” I shrugged. “I’ve not made a ton of friends yet, you know?”

“I do, actually.” She nodded. “If I had to say, you’re the first person I’ve tried to make conversation with since I’ve been here. I’m going to a party tonight because my boyfriend’s frat is hosting it, and he’ll just text me all night if I don’t go.”

“That sounds like fun.” I said. “Thank you for helping me out and offering me your room. I really hope you have fun tonight."

“Why don’t you come with me?” She asked. “I know frat parties sound horrible after all the stuff you see in films, and a lot of them are pretty shit, but I would love to have a drinking buddy.”

“I don’t want to impose.” I said. “I’m sure you want to spend time with your boyfriend.”

“Nonsense, he sees me everyday.” She shook her head. “I would love to have someone to chat with that isn’t one of his football friends from back home.”

“Um, okay.’” I shrugged. “I guess that’s not too horrible and I kind of owe you one.”

“You won’t regret it.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“So the house shouldn’t be too crowded.” Eleanor pulled her flannel tighter around her body, hunching over as the wind whipped around us. “A few of the guys are still out getting alcohol and people aren’t supposed to start showing up for another hour at least.”

“That’s good.” I nodded. “So why did you decide to come to school here?”

“Louis.” She said. “I couldn’t stomach the idea of being away from Lou and there are so many opportunities in America for both of us. He’s here on a footie scholarship and I’m here on a performing arts scholarship.”

“That’s really cool!” I exclaimed, my eyebrows raising up. “I didn’t peg you for a theatre nerd.”

“Just a tiny one.” She chuckled. “I’m more into the costumes than anything. Fashion has always owned my heart and my Mum took me to so many musicals as a girl. I figured I would combine my love for both and make it my career.”

“I admire that.” I said softly, glancing down at the sidewalk as we turned a corner. “So how long have you and Louis been together?”

“Four years.” She smiled. “We met on a holiday to London one summer and we’ve never let go of each other. Last year we went to the same University for our first year before deciding to come abroad and it was….magical.”

“He sounds lovely.” I said. “He makes you happy?”

“He does.” She nodded, her lips pursing slightly as she tried to hide her smile. “He’s a proper gentleman, even when he’s being a bit too laddie.”

“I don’t even know what that means.” I chuckled and Eleanor joined in. “What is a laddie? Is that like Lassie, the dog?”

“Not like that dog.” She scrunched up her nose. “I think you call them ‘Bro’s’ over here.”

“Ah, I do understand then.”

Eleanor and I continued chatting as we walked down Frat Row.

The houses were large, but they looked a little plain and rundown. I imagine having a group of rowdy, drunk boys living in a house without supervision didn’t do well for wear and tear on a house. Eleanor told me that the last house on frat row in the cul-de-sac belonged to pretty much the entire footy team with a few odd guys sprinkled in.

When we arrived, my jaw nearly dropped to the ground.

I was living in a tiny dorm room and these men were living like kings and a gigantic and modern house that looked brand new. Eleanor laughed as I took in the dark, blue-grey exterior. The shutters and the porch were both painted a dark, charcoal grey. We walked up the stairs and I continued to look around like a kid lost in a candy store.

Maybe joining a sorority wasn’t a bad move?

“So, that is the living room and just down that first hall is the bathroom. I recommend going upstairs to Louis’ room if you want to use a clean and unoccupied bathroom.” She chuckled. “I’ll show you around upstairs later if you’d like.”

“This is the cleanest Frat house I’ve ever seen in my life.” I said slowly, looking around. “How is it so pristine?”

“A few of the guys are really obsessed with cleanliness and organization.” She chuckled. “Also I spend a lot of time over here, so I do what I can.”

“I would spend all of my time here, too.” I said. “Why are you even in a dorm if you could be here?”

“Rules.” She rolled her eyes. “Technically women aren’t allowed to be housed in a frat, which blows, but I understand it.”

“Well, I’ll pretend to be you and stay in your dorm if you want to fly under the radar and move here.” I teased, patting her shoulder. “It’s a win win for both of us.”

“I might take you up on that.” She giggled, guiding me through an open archway. “This here is the kitchen-”

“Ellie, s’that you!”

Eleanor flinched at the booming voice from upstairs, her eyes casting up to the ceiling as she grumbled.

“Bloody hell, these men,” She shot me a sympathetic look and I tried my best not to laugh softly at her annoyance. “Yes, Niall?”

“I need help.” This accent was slightly different than Eleanor’s and it almost reminded me of the guy on the lucky charms commercial. “I don’t know what trousers to wear, should I do these dark jeans or these plaid one’s.”

The voice was closer and closer with each word and suddenly, a half naked man appeared in the doorway, holding two pairs of pants as he looked down at them. He was wearing white boxer briefs and white socks, the rest of his pale and freckled skin on display. I had to admit that he was extremely attractive, chestnut colored hair on top of his head and a soft stomach rounded out with a matching chestnut happy trail dusting under his belly button.

“Oh, hello.” He looked up, smiling at me with piercing blue eyes and extremely handsome features. I tried not to blush, my eyes glued to his. “Which one’s do ya think I should wear, love? Good to have an outsider’s perspective sometimes.”

The sound of a door shutting behind us caused my head to snap around.

This was more of a man standing at the opposite end of the kitchen, his chocolate colored curls framing his face and resting on his broad shoulders as he looked up at me. His face was perfect, adonis like features catching my attention and his bright green eyes causing my breath to catch in my throat. He offered me a small smile, his features soft as he cleared his throat.

“Hello.” He said softly to me before his eyes darted up, looking behind me. “For fuck’s sake, Niall. Why are you nearly naked!”

“I needed help!” I turned my head back towards Niall as his brows pulled together, his lips turning to a scowl. “I can’t decide what trousers to wear and Liam is no help!”

“We have a guest.” The green eyed god spoke from behind me, but I didn’t dare turn my head. I was afraid that if I did, I would be stuck staring at him for the rest of the night. “Don’t be rude.”

I glanced over at Eleanor who lifted her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose.

I tried, again, not to laugh at her misery.

“I swear to god, Niall,” She sighed heavily. “The least you could do is introduce yourself to the poor girl before you flash her.”

“M’Niall,” He rolled his eyes, looking over at me. “What’s your name, love?”

Harry’s POV

“My name is Piper.”

I stared at the back of her head, trying my best not to think about running my fingers through her soft curls that nearly matched the shade of my own. I inhaled sharply as I pressed my fingertips into the marble countertop below me. I had seen this girl, Piper, around campus before. I saw her flitting from building to building with her head tilted down and her headphones tucked in her cute little ears. I had a huge crush on this girl and now she was standing in my kitchen with my half-naked roommate and my best friend’s girl.

This wasn’t a good thing at all.

“S’nice to meet you, Piper.” Niall winked at her and I rolled my eyes, shooting him a glare over the girls head.

His brows furrowed and I gave him a pointed look before mouthing, ‘That’s the girl’.

Niall’s brows lifted up and he shot me a cheeky grin.

He was the only one I confided in about my girl troubles.

He knew all about the mystery girl that I passed by every day on my way to physics class and he had suggested to me several times that bumping into her was the best way to catch her attention. I declined, rolling my eyes at his childish suggestion. I had to admit though, if she had been in my class, I would have tossed paper at the back of her head to get her attention.

It was a trick that never failed.

“Well, I’m gonna go get dressed then.” He cleared his throat, glancing over at Eleanor. “Lou is stuck on the phone with his Mum, babe. I think he might need some rescuing if he’s going to join the party at all tonight.”

“Oh,” Eleanor stood straighter, glancing over at Piper. “I don’t want to leave Piper-”

“I can stay with her.” I cleared my throat, reaching up to fiddle with my hair as both girls turned to look at me. “I’ve finished my part of party prep, so I don’t mind.”

“Harry, I don’t know.” Eleanor said. “I’m already afraid Niall’s neon white body is going to scare her off. I don’t need you turning on your Cheshire Charm.”

“Oi, I resent that.” I narrowed my eyes at her playfully, trying to fight off my smile as she chuckled. “I won’t be turning on any charm tonight, love. I’ve got a big match to play tomorrow, remember? Gotta save my strength and energy if I wanna do well.”

“Alright, fine.” Eleanor sighed, turning back to Piper. “Are you okay if I disappear for a few minutes? I promise I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine.” Piper smiled at Eleanor, gently nodding her head. “Please, go ahead. I don’t mind waiting down here.”

“You’re sure?” Eleanor asked, her face laced with concern.

“Positive.” Piper glanced over at me. “I think I’m in good hands with ol’ Cheshire Charm back there.”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks.

She was funny and gorgeous.

Eleanor glanced between the two of us before saying a quick ‘be right back’.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Piper turned around, her hands pressing against the countertop as Niall wiggled his brows behind us. He disappeared behind Eleanor moments later, leaving Piper and I alone in the kitchen. “Would you like a Whiteclaw?”

“Oh, sure.” She nodded, her eyes dropping down to her hands. “I would love one.”

“You seem a bit nervous.” I said, walking towards the fridge. “Do you have a flavor preference?”

“No.” She said softly. “And yeah, I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ve had a pretty tough day and I wasn’t exactly prepared to come to a frat party.”

“Why are you here then?” I asked, my eyes scanning the shelves until I landed on the one filled with canned drinks. I reached for two lime flavored cocktails, pulling them out before I shut the door with my hip. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”

“Um, Eleanor extended the invitation and I kind of owed her one.” Piper smiled, taking the drink with a soft ‘thank you’. “My roommate is a bit of a dickhead and she kicked me out so she could get laid. Eleanor saw me in the hallway on the verge of a mental breakdown and we just...hit it off, I guess.”

“Sorry your roommate was a dickhead.” I smiled, letting my eyes roam over the soft features of her face. “I’m glad you and El hit it off though. It’s nice to have a new face around here.”

I let my eyes trail over the features of her face now that she was up close and personal.

Her eyes were hazel, a soft golden hue to her irises. Her brows were thick and wild, but perfectly shaped. There were soft freckles peeking out from under her foundation and her cheeks were a soft shade of red. Her nose was soft and rounded at the end and I couldn’t help but think of hovering over her, brushing my own nose against hers as I thrust into her.

I hated being a man sometimes.

She was a beautiful girl and even in my head she deserved better than to be thought of that way. She was more than just a sexual object and she didn’t need some creepy frat guy thinking dirty thoughts about her only moments after meeting her. I cleared my throat, reaching for my drink. I took a long sip as she raised her brows, offering me a sly smirk as she sipped at her own drink.

“Eleanor is a really sweet girl.” I rested my can on the marble countertop. “She’s been having trouble making friends over here, so it’s nice that she’s found someone to hang out with besides us.”

“I really like her.” Piper said softly. “I’ve been having trouble making friends, too. I’m not really the best at putting myself out there, you know?”

“I think you’re doing just fine.” I flashed her a reassuring smile, noticing how her cheeks turned a shade darker. “I don’t think I’ve fully introduced myself, love. I’m Harry.”

“I’m Piper.” She held her hand out and I took it, giving it a soft shake. “It’s nice to meet you, Harry.”

Her skin was so bloody soft, her hands a little cold and damp from the can she was holding.

“You too.” I said. “If you need anything tonight, please don’t hesitate to find me. I know how overwhelming these parties can be and I’ll be happy to keep you company or walk you out for some fresh air if you need it.”

“Thank you.” She said softly. “The same goes for you. If you need any company tonight, I’m your girl.”

Just like that, my mind was back in the gutter.

All I could hear in my head was the echoes of her sweet moans, her voice chanting over and over again ‘M’your girl, Harry. Yours’. I cleared my throat, giving her a tight smile as I tried to avoid thinking about her tucked in my sheets, writhing and gasping as I licked into her.

I was so totally fucked.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

“Piper, babe,” I laughed, holding her hips tightly as she swayed. “I think we should sit you down for a minute, yeah?”

“If I sit, I’ll sleep.” She whined, looking up at me with her sweet puppy dog eyes. “Where did Eleanor go?”

“Eleanor is going upstairs with Louis.” I said softly, digging my fingers into the fleshy skin above the waistband of her jeans. “Do you want me to take you home?”

She pursed her lips, shaking her head as she pressed her hands into my shoulders.

I knew exactly how we’d gotten here.

The party was still going strong around us, people dancing and shouting as Piper swayed in front of me. I wanted so badly to brush her hair from her face and stroke the soft skin of her cheek, but I would never do something like that when she was this off her face. Holding onto her hips was already too intimate for my liking, but I was afraid she would topple over without some form of support. She swayed forward, her eyes face pinching up ever so slightly before she pressed one hand to her forehead. I frowned, pulling her closer as a group of guys rushed by.

If Niall hadn’t suggested we play four drinking games in a row, Piper and Eleanor might not have been off their faces within the first two hours of the party. I had to admit that I didn’t exactly mind taking care of Piper. She was a funny drunk, silly puns and snide comments slipping from her lips carelessly as she leaned against me. It was when her eyes started to drift shut and her body started to sway, that I started to worry about her. I pulled her into the kitchen alongside a giggly Eleanor, handing them both bottles of water while I quickly cooked up some pizza rolls that Niall had hidden in the freezer. Both girls ate between loud laughs, knocking into each other as I watched them with a small smile on my face.

Seeing Eleanor happy made me happy, but seeing her happy with the girl of my dreams made me feel like I was on cloud nine.

“Mate,” Louis’ hand clapped down on my shoulder and I turned my head as Piper’s body fell into mine. “I can take her off your hands. El told me they live in the same halls-”

“She can barely stand on her own, Lou.” I shook my head, glancing down as she rested her head on my shoulder. “Gonna go put her to bed in my room. I’ll sleep on the couch after everyone is gone.”

“Lock the door if you leave her up there.” Louis said. “I’m going back up to El in a minute, but I figured I should get some painkillers and water for the morning.”

“Bring some up for Piper?” I asked him. “I probably won’t leave her alone in there, knowing all of these jackasses are around.”

“Tell me about it.” Louis snorted out a laugh, shaking his head. “I’ll be up in five.”

I nodded, watching him disappear through the crowd of people in our living room.

“Hey, love,” I said softly. “Gonna take you upstairs and tuck you in, okay?”

“Kay.” She mumbled, turning her head until her nose brushed against the column of my neck.

I made a mental note to have a talk with her tomorrow about going places with strangers when she was drunk. I knew that I meant no harm, but we were still getting to know each other. It set off a level of worry that I only ever felt when it came to my Mum or Sister. It was almost a primal need to protect, my arms winding tightly around her as I guided her to the stairs.

It was no easy feat to get her up the staircase, but when we finally made it to my room, she snapped into a more alert mode. She looked up, her tired eyes growing as wide as they could before she brushed some of her hair out of her face. She looked up at me, her eyes searching my face as I pressed my hand lightly to her lower back.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Harry.” She said softly. “I’m really sorry I’m ruining your fun.”

“Nonsense, love.” I shook my head. “S’just another party, there will be plenty more.”

“Still.” She mumbled. “I don’t want to take your bed. Sleeping on the couch is bad for your back and I overheard that you have a match tomorrow.”

“S’alright.” I said. “I’ve slept on a floor before a match and still kicked ass, Piper. I don’t mind giving my bed up for a good cause.”

She let out an aggravated sigh, rolling her eyes at me.

I tried not to smile as she grumbled under her breath, reaching for the doorknob to my bedroom door. I followed in behind her, flicking the light switch on before I shut the door behind me. Piper staggered a little and I hovered, my hands waiting to catch her should she fall. Instead, she stumbled over to my bed on bambi like legs, collapsing on the foot with a soft groan.

“You need some help?” I asked her as she lifted her leg, struggling with her shoe. She merely waved her hand at me, shaking her head. “You want something comfy to change into? I’ve got sweats, shorts-”

“Sweats sound lovely.” She mumbled, a soft ‘aha’ falling from her lips as she finally tugged the shoelace of her boot out of a knot. “You’re a true gentleman, has anyone ever told you that?”

“My Mum.” I chuckled, walking over to my dresser in search of comfy clothes.

“S’good,” Piper sighed out as her boot hit the floor. “Hard to find a proper gentleman these days, Harry. I think Jude Law was the last of them.”

“I won’t argue with you there.” I shook my head, trying to contain my laughter as I sifted through my sweatpants. I settled on my favorite pair, the light grey fabric soft and worn. “Do you want a t-shirt to sleep in or a long sleeve shirt?”

“Um, t-shirt.” She mumbled. “Your room is lovely. Did you do all of the decorating yourself?”

“I did, yeah.” I nodded. “Brought a few key things from home, but I spent most of my money in Target when I got here.”

“Amen to that.” She hiccuped softly. “I like your record player. I’ve always wanted one of those.”

“One day you’ll have to come up and listen to some records with me.” I glanced at her over my shoulder, noting how the corners of her lips ticked up into a girlish grin. “What kind of music do you like?”

“All of it.” She said simply, her voice trailing off. “I’ve always been a fan of classical music for studying. My mom calls me a psychopath.”

“They are known for indulging in the genre.” I snorted, pulling out a white t-shirt before I turned around. “I think that’s lovely, though. I’ve heard some good stuff from Bach in my music theory class and I have to say, it makes for good studying music.”

“That’s what I’m saying.” She said. “I love me some cello, mate.”

“Look at that.” I hummed out, holding the clothes out to her. “Got you talking like a proper brit now, don’t we. Didn’t even know what footy was at the start of the night.”

“Piss off.” She grumbled, trying to hide her amusement as she mocked my accent.

“I’m gonna run to Louis' room while you get dressed, okay?” I said. “Gonna steal you some makeup wipes from El’s overnight bag so we can take your makeup off. I want you to lock the door and don’t open it for anyone besides me. I don’t care if it’s Niall or god himself, alright?”

“Alright.” She whispered softly. “You’re really fucking nice, Harry.”

I tried to resist the urge to brush my knuckles over the soft skin of her cheek, but I couldn’t.

I inhaled sharply as she closed her eyes, leaning into my touch with a soft hum.

“I’ll be right back.” I said softly. “Lock the door.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

Falling in love with Harry took me all of five minutes.

I decided that it was physically impossible not to love someone so perfect. He was a real gentleman, keeping his hands in respectful spots even when I was falling all over him, drunk off my ass. I felt a little guilty about being so touchy-feely with someone I hardly knew, but I was comfortable around him from the start. He stood by my side for most of the night, talking with Eleanor and I as we tossed shots back like water.

I stood up from the foot of his bed, fiddling with the button on my pants. My vision was most definitely blurry and my fingers were shaking as I swayed on my feet, but I managed to pull the button from the loop before I shoved my pants down my legs. It took a bit of wiggling to get my ass settled into Harry’s sweats, an article of clothing clearly meant for a man with no….assets.

With a soft hiccup, I worked on my shirt, tossing it to the ground before I reached behind me to take off my bra. My drunk brain didn’t care about etiquette or embarrassment anymore. That all flew out the window with my third shot of tequila that Niall handed over. When I settled the fabric of Harry’s shirt over my tired limbs, I heard a soft knock at the door.

I stumbled over, pressing my ear against the wood to hear who was there. I was plastered, yeah, but I remembered Harry’s speech about not opening the door for anyone.

“Who is it?” I called out, my voice breaking just a little.

“S’me.” I heard Harry’s gruff voice. “S’Harry.”

I flicked the lock on the door, opening it up with a soft smile.

Harry held up some makeup wipes and a bottle of water, flashing me a cheesy grin. I laughed, shutting the door and flicking the lock behind him again as he walked into his room. When I turned around, my arms crossed over my chest, he was looking at my body with soft eyes.

“Everything feel comfy enough to sleep in?” He asked.

“Yeah, thanks.” I nodded.

“Alright.” He nodded, looking up at me with glassy jade eyes. “Let’s get you tucked in, shall we?”

I smiled, walking over to his bed.

I picked the side farthest from the door and closest to the window.

Harry pulled back the covers, waiting for me to climb in before he rested them over my legs. He set the bottle of water on the bedside table, two painkillers falling to the wood next to the plastic bottle. He sat down next to my legs, ripping into the makeup wipes with ease. I watched him pluck a sheet out before closing the pack back up, tossing it to the nightstand with the other items. I rolled my lips in as he turned towards me, holding the cloth out.

“Do you want me to do it?” He asked. “Just so you know it’s all gone?”

“Yes, please.” I nodded.

I could take my makeup off in my sleep.

I’d done it before, actually.

But there was something about being doted on by Harry that I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I preened as he wiped the cloth over my skin with gentle strokes, swiping away concealer and highlighter with ease. I let my eyes slip shut when he asked, his index finger gently brushing at the small bit of liquid liner and shimmery shadow on my lids. When it got to my lips, he did a few quick dabs before his touch was gone from my face all together.

“All clean.” He smiled, tossing the wipe towards the bin in the corner of the room. “Alright, I’m going to tuck you in and turn on a movie. I’ll just be on the floor next to you if you need anything at all. Bathroom is through that door right there.”

“Don’t sleep on the floor.” I rolled my eyes. “I’m okay with sharing a bed with you, Harry. Friends do that all the time, don’t they?”

“But you’re drunk.” He said softly. “And I don’t want you to feel pressured or uncomfortable-”

“I don’t.” I said. “From the moment we met, you’ve made me feel very welcomed and comfortable. I promise that I don’t feel unsafe or pressured in any way, Harry. If you feel more comfortable sleeping on the floor, then I understand, but I’m okay with you sleeping next to me.”

Harry reached up to rustle his long strands of hair, his curls flopping about as he looked at me with a curious gaze. He inhaled sharply, nibbling on his lower lip as I stared back at him with raised brows and an amused grin.

“I’ll put a pillow wall between us and everything.” I said. “If it makes you feel comfortable.”

“I just don’t want you to wake up in the morning and freak out.” He said softly. “You’ve had a lot to drink and if you don’t remember any of this tomorrow, it might be a little scary to wake up with a strange man in your bed.”

“Well, it’s your bed.” I said softly. “And I’ve been worse off than this and still remembered what happened the night before, Harry. I come from a very small town where drinking is considered a sport. This is a regular Tuesday for me.”

“Alright.” He whispered through a breathy laugh. “But if you change your mind at any point through the night, feel free to kick me out of bed.”

“I won’t.” I rolled my eyes. “Get ready for bed, yeah? You’ve got a big day tomorrow and I can’t have you losing a match because of me. People will think I’m bad luck.”

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Harry’s POV

When I woke up in the middle of the night, our pillow wall was gone.

Piper’s cheek was pressed into her pillow, soft puffs of air escaping her parted lips as she tightened her grip on my shirt. Her hand was resting on my tummy and her foot was hooked over my calf muscle, but she remained on her side of the bed. I lay there for a minute, watching her peaceful face as she slept. I tried to commit her features to memory, my heart squeezing in my chest as she shuffled around a bit. I rested my hand over hers, softly brushing my fingers over her knuckles as her body moved just a little closer to mine.

The dry feeling in my mouth pulled me from my peaceful moment, urging me to go downstairs for my own bottle of water. It was silent in the house, no more music pumping through the speakers downstairs, and I felt safe enough to leave Piper on her own in my room without the doors locked. I would only be gone for a few minutes at the most, running down for water before I ran back up to curl back up next to the sleeping girl in my bed.

When I made it downstairs, Louis was already in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I grumbled, walking over to the fridge. “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you.” He said. “Thirsty.”

“Hmm.” I nodded. “Eleanor still knocked out cold?”

“Yeah.” He chuckled. “Love that girl to death, but she snores like a bloody chainsaw.”

“That she does.” I laughed, pulling a water bottle out. “I’m glad she’s got Piper as a friend. It was nice to see her unwind tonight.”

“It was.” Louis nodded, pressing his hip into the countertop. “Piper likes you.”

I nearly choked on my water as Louis looked up at me.

“What?” I asked. “How on earth-”

“It’s obvious, mate.” Louis rolled his eyes, an amused grin on his lips. “She’s got a bit of a crush on you, but what girl doesn’t?”

“Lou-” I said slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Why do I feel like you’re about to give me a speech.”

“It would break my heart if Eleanor lost her as a friend, Harry.” Louis said softly. “She doesn’t have anyone over here and I at least have you and Niall, you know? If she lost Piper because you two decided to fool around and things ended badly-”

“That’s not what this is.” I said quickly. “And I don’t appreciate what you’re trying to say, either. I would never hurt Piper, or anyone, on purpose. She’s a very sweet girl and it just so happens that I’ve liked her for a while.”

“You know each other, then?” Louis brows arched up and I sighed. “Wasn’t aware.”

“We don’t know each other, but I’ve seen her around campus.” I mumbled. “Always had my eyes on her, Lou. She’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Harry,” Louis said softly. “I’m asking you as a friend, please don’t get involved.”

“That’s a shitty thing to ask.” My voice was hoarse. “It’s late and we’re both still pissed. I’m going to bed.”

“Just think about it.” He said, knocking his knuckles against the countertop.

Lucky for Louis, it was all I could think about for the rest of the night.

🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃🔸🥃

Piper’s POV

When I woke up the next morning, I could feel Harry’s heartbeat against my cheek.

The annoying beeping of his alarm had me groaning and turning my face into his chest. I heard him mutter a soft series of ‘sorry’s’ before it turned off. Harry’s arm draped over my back, holding me against his chest as I closed my eyes again. I let out a soft hum as he brushed his fingers up and down my back, his chest rising and falling slowly under my head.

“I see that we’ve lost the pillow wall.” Harry’s voice was deep and raspy, causing a shiver to run up my spine.

“Sorry.” I whispered, lifting my head up as I pressed my palm to his chest. “I guess I tossed it aside in the middle of the night.”

“You did.” He chuckled softly. “You pushed it down with your feet and then you pulled it out and chucked it because you were trying to get comfortable.”

“You watched me?” I asked, blinking a few times to try and focus my vision as I rested my chin on the back of my hand.

“I felt you flopping around like a fish out of water and I had to check on you.” He said slowly, his own eyes still shut. “I fell back asleep and when I woke up for a wee you were snuggled so tightly against me that I could barely pry you off.”

“I didn’t know that I was a cuddler.” I mumbled softly. “I’ve never really slept in a bed with anyone else before.”

“Well, you can tick that box off of your bucket list.” He smiled, his fingers still brushing over my back as I looked down at him. “You staring at me?”

“A little.” I confessed, a small smile creeping up on my lips. “Think you’re pretty.”

“Love,” He let out a breathy chuckle. “Easy.”

“What?” I asked, dropping my head back to his chest. “Why can’t I say you're pretty? We spent the night together, I’m allowed to compliment you a little.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to flirt with me?” He cleared his throat, shifting around under me. I groaned, falling back to the pillow next to him. “Do friends flirt?”

Friends.

I should have known better.

There was no way on earth someone like Harry would want to be with someone like me.

“Friends can call each other pretty.” I said dejectedly, turning on my side. “And friends can cuddle, too.”

“Well, if it makes you feel better, you’re an amazing cuddler.” He said softly, pressing his palm to my bicep as he leaned over to kiss my temple. “You’re welcome to sleep more if you’d like, but I would love to take you out to breakfast.”

“Breakfast?” I turned my head, looking at him with furrowed brows. “I thought you had a match this morning?”

“I’ve got a few hours.” He rested his body next to mine, his head falling on the pillow next to mine lazily. “Eleanor will be at the match.”

“I know.” I whispered.

“You should sit with her.” Harry smiled. “I would like that.”

“Okay.” I said softly as he snaked his arm underneath my own, curling it around my middle. I tried to fight off a smile. “Thought we were getting up?”

“Few more minutes.” He mumbled. “You smell nice. S’that your perfume or your shampoo?”

“Probably both.” I smiled, resting my palm over his forearm. “Both sweet pea scented.”

“Piper.” He mused. “Sweet pea.”

“What are you mumbling about?” I asked, trying to contain my giggles at his sleepy rambling.

“Gonna call you sweet pea.” He mumbled. “Because your name starts with a P and you’re so sweet.”

Fuck being friends.

I liked this boy.

And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t ignore the fluttering feeling in my stomach.

I was truly fucked.

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

December

Piper’s POV

There were only a few seconds left in the match and our boys were killing it.

Eleanor gripped my hand tighter as Louis shouted to Niall across the field. Seconds later, he was kicking the ball with the side of his foot. Harry was much closer to the goal, ready to land the winning kick into the goal. I looked at him, his chest heaving and his hairline coated in a thin sheen of sweat. His face was intense and it made my thighs clench ever so slightly to see him so serious. He was always so attractive in the middle of a game, his brows pulled together and his lips pinched tightly together. I loved watching him pull his hair up before a game, twisting the long strands around before he tossed it up in a bun on top of his head.

“He’s got this.” I said. “Come on, Lou!”

“He’s gonna pass to Harry.” She shook her head. “He has to, babe. He’ll miss from back there.”

“They have five fucking seconds.” We always got a bit snippy during games, but never at each other. “It better be a flawless fucking pass.”

Louis passed the black and white checked ball to Harry with a swift kick and I held my breath, waiting to see what would happen. Harry pushed a guy on the opposing team gently with his shoulder, sliding low until his foot collided with the ball. Just as the last second ticked down, it collided with the net behind the goal and Harry collapsed on his back as players rushed around him.

Everyone cheered loudly, Eleanor jumping up with a loud cheer alongside the crowd. I could barely move, my heart thumping so loudly that it was all I could hear. I watched Harry’s back flat on the ground, my eyes watering as he continued to stay still. When I saw him sit up, shaking his head, I finally took a deep breath. Moments later, Louis and Niall were lifting him up on their shoulders.

“Thank, fuck.” I whispered, standing up next to Eleanor as I clapped.

Harry’s eyes flitted to the stands, landing on mine with a wide grin.

He was covered in mud and dirt, but he was fine.

Eleanor grabbed my hand, guiding me down towards the field.

She was quick to launch on Louis when her feet hit the grass and Niall was quick to run over and scoop me up. I patted him on the back, laughing as he shook me around in his arms.

“We won!” He cheered. “We bloody won!”

“I know!” I chuckled, brushing my hand over the back of his head. “I’m proud of you, Ni.”

He put me on my feet, pressing a kiss to my cheek before he turned around to Harry. He grabbed his best mate by the face, kissing his forehead before he ran off shouting something that was terribly hard to make out. I rolled my eyes, steadying myself on my feet. Harry walked over to me, holding his arms out with that same wide and cheeky grin on his lips.

“Come give your best mate a hug,” He said. “Gotta thank my good luck charm.”

“Harry, no.” I said, holding my hands up. “You’re covered in mud and grass and- Harry!”

I squealed, taking off on the grass as Harry chased me.

I dodged a few members of the opposing team, apologizing profusely.

It didn’t take very long for Harry to wrap his arms around me, pulling me against his chest.

“I deserve a bloody hug, sweet pea.” He squeezed me tight. “I won!”

“I know, but you’re gross.” I groaned, dropping my head back. “You get to shower before we go to lunch and I don’t.”

“You could always join.” He whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear. “Know you’ve been dying to see me naked, haven’t ya pea?”

“I will elbow you.” I grumbled, spinning around in his arms. “Don’t be a prick.”

“Just like watching you blush, Piper.” He reached over, pinching my cheek softly. “Where are we going for lunch today?”

“Where do we always go for lunch?” I rolled my eyes. “Go on, get cleaned up so we can go.”

“Fine, fine.” He sighed. “I’ll see you in ten?”

“I’ll be here.”

I walked back over to Eleanor and Louis, my mind stuck on Harry’s cheeky comment.

I hated when he did stuff like that.

He was always toying with my emotions, pulling me to and fro like I didn’t have any feelings at all. He knew that I had a crush on him and he knew that it sucked for me to be so close, but I had the power to stop it at any time. The truth was that I couldn’t stomach the thought of being away from him like that. I wanted him in my life, no matter how I could have him. I walked towards Eleanor with a heavy sigh, crossing my arms over my chest as she kissed Louis deeply.

Being around a couple constantly was torture when you weren’t apart of one yourself. Especially when the person you wanted to be a couple with was always around anyways. When the pair were done kissing, Louis ran off towards the stadium to take a shower in the locker room. Eleanor smiled over at me and I gave her a blank stare, my lips turning down.

“What happened?” she asked softly.

“He’s done it again!” I tossed my hands up. “He was all ‘you should come shower with me, I know you want to see me naked’. Isn’t he the one who keeps insisting we should just be friends?”

“He’s an idiot.” She rolled her eyes. “I hate that he keeps doing this and I hate that you won’t let me talk to him about it.”

“I don’t want to come between you and an old friend, El.” I shook my head. “He’ll grow up eventually, I guess. If he doesn’t, I guess I’ll have to start moving on.”

“I think you two would be so perfect for each other, babe.” She sighed. “I don’t know what his deal is!”

“Has Louis said anything?” I ask softly. “I don’t want to pry but-”

“Not a word.” She said, her sympathetic grin causing my heart to sink. “He spends all of his time with you and we both know that he’s into you, but something is holding him back.”

“Yeah.” I grimaced. “I like him so much, El.”

“I know.” She frowned. “I wish I could smack some sense into that thick skull of his. I mean, men can be so daft and then they say we’re the complicated ones!”

“I know!” I exclaimed. “Anyways, you and Lou are still coming to lunch with us, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Louis is dying for a turkey apple sandwich.”

“That does sound good.” I hummed out. “I was thinking about soup, though, it’s freezing out here.”

“Oh, soup.” She groaned out. “That’s perfect,”

⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️🔹⚽️

Harry’s Pov

I wrapped my towel around my waist, letting out a heavy sigh as I turned the faucet off.

I hated what I was doing to Piper.

My sweet pea.

I couldn’t help but rile her up like that, watching her face flush red as I whispered in her ear.

Part of me was certain that I was riling her up so that she would make the first move. If that was the case, maybe Louis would realize that our feelings for each other were real.

“Mate,” Louis said. “What was that on the field?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my brows furrowing as I walked up to my locker. “We won, Lou.”

“I meant when you were chasing Piper.” He said. “That was flirting, Harry.”

I snapped my mouth shut.

If he heard the things that passed between Piper and I when we were alone, he’d be livid.

It was borderline verbal sex with us sometimes, the tension so thick that it had her clamping her legs shut and me shifting in my seat.

“Was just teasing her, Lou.” I rolled my eyes. “You’re not getting onto Niall for picking her up and kissing her face.”

“Niall means no harm.”

“And neither do I.” I shot him a glare. “Mind your mouth.”

“Why her, Harry?” He sighed. “You could have any bird or lad on campus and you want her, why?”

“Because she’s Piper.” I turned towards him. “She’s the one that I want, okay. I can’t tell you why I think about her every moment of the day or why I want to be with her, I just do. I want to be there for her and you’re stupid fucking fear for Eleanor is standing in my way.”

“You can do what you want.” Louis’ jaw tensed. “M’not standing in your fookin’ way, mate.”

“But you are!” I shouted. “You are because you know that I would never do anything to hurt you or El because you’re family to me. You asked me not to do something and I’m being respectful of that because I respect you. I can’t say that you respect me though, because you would never ask this of me if you did. Can’t you see that this is killing me?”

Louis let out a frustrated huff as I turned back to my locker.

I grabbed my clothes, angrily pulling them on before I ran my towel over the wet strands of my hair. Piper would be pissed to see me pulling at my curls instead of properly scrunching them up with a soft t-shirt, but I couldn’t be arsed to care about that right now. I slammed my locker shut, hiking my bag onto my shoulder before I stormed out of the locker room. When I walked out onto the field, Eleanor and Piper were whispering amongst themselves.

“I just don’t get it.” Piper let out a sad sigh. “I want-”

“I know, babe!” Eleanor interrupted her with a chipper voice, pressing her hand to Piper’s bicep with a wide smile. “I wish they still had pumpkin spice too, I already miss it.”

“You women and your pumpkin spice.” I grumbled, pressing my hand to Piper’s hip before I leaned down to kiss her cheek. “Know you miss it, Pea, but it’s peppermint season now.”

“You’re right.” She gave me a playful pout. “I guess I can survive with that for now.”

“Thatta girl.” I chuckled, pulling my hand back as she reached up to touch my hair. “What?”

“You didn’t scrunch your hair properly, H.” She sighed. “I’ve told you to take better care of these curls! They’re going to be frizzy when they dry.”

I licked over my bottom lip, resisting the urge to lean down and kiss the pout off of her lips.

“Sweet Pea, I’m sorry.” I said softly. “I was in a little bit of a rush, yeah? Wanted to get my favorite girls to lunch.”

“In that case, I guess I can forgive you.” She mumbled.

☕️☕️☕️☕️

Piper’s POV

I sipped at my peppermint latte as Harry tossed a french fry into his mouth.

“So when are you all flying home?” I asked. “Only a few weeks left until Christmas and exams are almost over.”

“El and I are flying out next Friday.” Louis said, smiling over at his girlfriend. “I’m excited to see me Mum and sisters.”

“Me too.” Eleanor nodded. “Missed them all.”

“What about you, H?” I asked.

“I decided to stay.” He shrugged. “I don’t want to disrupt my schedule mid year, you know? It’ll be hard for me to get back into things come January if I spend an entire three weeks vegging out with Mum and Gem.”

“Oh.” I said softly, my face falling as he cleared his throat.

He was avoiding something and he was sad about it.

“I’m not going home either.” I said softly. “Too expensive to fly around the holiday’s, you know? Don’t make nearly enough being a full time fan girl for the footie team.”

“Tell me about it.” Eleanor rolled her eyes playfully. “Who do I talk to about getting that raise I was promised.”

“Oh, you get plenty as it is.” Louis leaned forward, capturing her lips. “Pay you in love and other things.”

Harry let out a frustrated sigh, standing up from the table.

“I’ve gotta go.” He pulled his wallet out, tossing twenty five dollars onto the table. “S’enough for both of us and the tip, Pea. I’ll see you later in Mcgregor Hall for our study session.”

“H-”

“Bye.” He leaned over, pressing a sloppy kiss to my forehead before doing the same to El.

I watched him storm out with a confused look on my face.

“Should I not have asked about Christmas?” I looked at Eleanor with soft eyes. “I can’t….El, I can’t do this anymore.”

“Babe, it’s gonna be fine.” She said softly. “He’s just a bit moody today, isn’t he? Misses his Mum a whole lot, it has nothing to do with you.”

“What are you two on about?” Louis asked, glancing between us. “Is something going on between you and Harry?”

“No.” I shook my head. “That’s the problem.”

“They have this chemistry and Piper really likes Harry, but he told her that being friend’s was their best option.” Eleanor explained softly. “Sometimes he’s sweet on her though and it makes her sad because she wants him.”

“El.” I mumbled, my cheeks growing warm. “He doesn’t need all of the details.”

“You like that miserable sod?” Louis asked. “You’re not worried about a relationship with him ruining your friendship?”

“Not really.” I shook my head at Louis. “Harry and I will always be friends.”

“No, I mean,” Louis sighed. “You’re not worried about it ruining you and Eleanor’s friendship?”

“No.” I said slowly. “What are you talking about?”

“I feel like if you and Harry were to break up, you wouldn’t want to be friends with El because he’s always around.” Louis said softly. “Wouldn’t that be hard?”

“For a bit, yeah.” I shrugged. “We’re both mature, though. I think we could work through any differences and remain friends.”

“Why are you being so nosy?” Eleanor narrowed her eyes, looking at Louis. “What have you done?”

“Nothin’!” Louis exclaimed. “I’ve not done anythin’.”

“Louis!” She cried out. “You’re lying to me.”

“M’not.” He fidgeted in his seat, avoiding her gaze. “Swear I meant well.”

“Louis, what did you do?” I asked softly, my heart dropping as he avoided my gaze. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, I just…” He licked over his bottom lip, looking between Eleanor and I with wide eyes. “I just asked him to consider your friendship with Eleanor before making any moves on you. I didn’t want to see her lose her best friend, you know?”

“You’re a sodding prick, Louis Tomlinson.” Eleanor snapped. “You knew that Harry would respect that if you asked. He thinks of you as a brother and he would do anything for you.”

“I have to go.” I grabbed my bag and my coat. “I have to find Harry.”

“Go on,” Eleanor said. “I’ve got a very naughty boyfriend to deal with.”

❄️💠❄️💠❄️💠❄️

The first place I ran to was the frat house.

Harry wasn’t there and Niall hadn’t seen him at all.

The second place I ran was the park on the far end of campus that we often spent weekends at.

He wasn’t there either.

When I finally found him, I was only a little shocked.

“You just played a match, mate.” I let out a relieved sigh when he snapped his head up, his eyes softening when he saw me. “What are you doing out here?”

“Just needed to clear my head.” He said as I walked closer. “Why are you here?”

“I had to see you.” I took a deep breath, swiping the ball from between Harry’s feet with a swift kick. It landed in the goal and Harry let out an amused, but breathy chuckle. “I’m getting good.”

“You’ve got a good teacher.” He snorted out a laugh. “Everything okay, sweet pea?”

“No.” I said. “You see, I’ve got this friend and he’s having some girl trouble.”

“Oh, yeah?” He asked. “What’s his deal?”

“He really likes this girl and he flirts with her all the time, but he hasn’t made a move.” I shrugged, glancing up at Harry. “There’s this other friend of theirs that asked an impossible favor of him and he’s being loyal, which I admit is admirable, but a little daft, as you would say.”

Harry’s Adam's apple bobbed up and down softly and he looked over my head.

“He does sound quite daft, doesn’t he?” He let out a soft laugh, closing his eyes. “Piper-”

“It makes me love him more though.” I said softly. “The fact that he’s putting aside his feelings because he’s that loyal to the people he loves. It’s stupid, but really sweet.”

“You think so?” He asked, his eyes a little watery as he looked down at me.

“I do.” I nodded. “Why didn’t you talk to me about this, Harry? We share everything with each other and-”

“This was the one thing I couldn’t tell you, pea.” He said softly. “I never wanted to hurt you and...I knew that this would. I didn’t want you to feel like I was choosing something over you, because that isn’t the case.”

“Harry, it’s okay.” I said softly. “I would have understood and I also would have had a very long talk with Louis about minding his own business, darling. You’re free to be with whoever you want and no one can tell you otherwise.”

“What if I want to be with my beautiful best friend, pea?” He reached up, brushing his thumb over my chin. “What if I want to be with the girl that stole my heart the moment I saw her?”

“Then make a fucking move, Styles.” I let out a breathy laugh as he leaned closer. “She won’t wait around forever. She’s a fucking catch and-”

Harry’s lips pressed into mine, cold and wet and perfect.

I pressed my fingers into his shoulders, gripping his coat tightly with glove covered fingers.

He tilted his head slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of my lips.

“You’re perfect, Piper.” His breath washed over my lips as I shuffled closer, desperately seeking his body heat. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” I said. “Just be with me, H. Be mine.”

“I’ve always been yours, Piper.” He brushed the tip of his nose over mine. “Always will be.”

When Harry’s lips pressed to mine again, something wet landed on my cheek.

We both pulled back, looking up at the sky with wide smiles.

“Snow.” I said softly.

“Christmas miracle isn’t complete with snow, is it?” He teased, brushing his nose against mine.

“Shut up and kiss me.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Harry’s POV

Louis looked like a child who had just been told Santa wasn’t real when Piper and I walked back into the cafe holding hands. He shot me a soft look that said ‘mate, I’m really sorry for being a dickhead’ and I gave him a tight smile in response. We still needed to have a talk about everything, but there was no use in fighting over something that was in the past now. It felt good, sitting next to Piper as her boyfriend and not just her best friend. It was sudden and my mind was still reeling, but I wouldn’t want it any other way. I walked her back to her dorm that night with a pout on my lips and our fingers tightly laced together.

“I don’t want to say goodbye, pea.” I mumbled, my thumb brushing against her cheek softly as we stood in front of her door. “Just got you.”

“You’ve always had me.” She snorted out a soft laugh.

“Never been able to make out with you, though.” I wiggled my brows. “Think we can finally carry through on all that sexual banter we’ve been partaking in.”

“Yeah.” She said quickly, her cheeks getting pinker. “But not tonight, H. Think we should take some time apart to think about things before we jump right in. It’s going to be a bit different now and I need to get used to the idea.”

“Take as much time as you need.” I pressed my lips to hers in a soft kiss. “I’ll be waiting.”

I was only slightly regretting my words now.

Everyone had left for Christmas and we had the house to ourselves.

We were in the middle of a movie marathon in the living room, a few bottles of wine and takeout boxes scattered on the coffee table as we snuggled into each other. Piper’s head rested on my chest and her fingers rested against my stomach, slightly drumming over the bit of holiday weight I had put on over the last week or so. She looked so cute all snuggled up in my sweater and a pair of fluffy sucks, my sweatpants tucked into them carelessly.

“You’re thinking too loud.” She whispered, lifting her head up. “What’s going on in your head, H?”

“Just thinking about how cute you are.” I smiled down at her. “You’re all snuggled up in my clothes with your pretty hair and your pretty eyes. I just can’t believe that I’m lucky enough to call you my girl.”

Her eyes searched my face as I reached up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I want you.” She said softly. “But I’m scared.”

“I wasn’t…” I trailed off. “M’not trying to get in your pants, sweet pea. I just wanted you to know that I’m so in love with you.”

“And I’m in love with you.” She sat up. “And I would really, really like to show you how much I love you.”

“When you’re ready.” I said. “I know that you didn’t have the best first time and you’re a little nervous to dive back in, but I can wait. I want you to be one hundred percent ready when the time comes.”

She inhaled sharply before giving me a soft nod.

“I love you.” I said, brushing my thumb over her bottom lip. “Get back over ‘ere, pea. Wanna snuggle you some more.”

🎄❄️🎄❄️🎄❄️

Piper’s POV

Harry was snoring softly in my ear on the couch.

The sun had long gone down and the credits for The Holiday were rolling on the flatscreen in Harry’s living room. With a soft groan, I flipped around in his arms, nuzzling my face into his chest as he tightened his arms around me. The scent of his cologne filled my senses, nearly lulling me back to sleep. I was moments from falling back into dreamland when I felt something firm pressing between my thighs, causing my eyes to snap open. I pulled back to look at Harry’s face, his eyes still shut as he continued to softly snore. He was still fast asleep.

I let out a soft gasp, my walls clenching down as I shifted against his thigh. I let out a soft gasp, my fingers tightening against his sweater as I stilled my hips. I tilted my head back, looking over his face as he slept peacefully. I didn’t want to wake him, but was done waiting. I wanted him. I wanted everything with Harry and I especially wanted to indulge passion filled moments with frantic hands and desperate kisses with a christmas film playing in the background.

“Harry.” I said his name softly, my fingers trailing up his throat to cup his cheek. “Harry, baby, wake up.”

“S’wrong?” He asked, tucking his head down. “You alright?”

“I want you.” I said it softly, my heart pounding against my chest. “I’m ready.”

“Sweet pea, s’late.” He opened his eyes. “Are you sleep talkin’?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I mean it.”

I rolled my hips, grinding my core against his thigh to really send the message through.

“Piper.” He gasped, his eyes wide open. “Darling, what….what’re you doing?”

“Was trying to snuggle up to you and you put your thigh between my legs, H.” I said timidly, my face heating up under his gaze. His lips were curling into a soft smile and I bit the inside of my cheek. “It felt nice.”

“S’that why you want me?” He let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “Needy girl.”

“Please.” I whispered. “I need you.”

“I’ve got ye’.” He leaned down, pressing a series of soft kisses to my lips. “Gonna push your pants down, okay?”

I nodded, but she shook his head.

“If we’re doing this, I want to hear you.” He said. “I need you to say what you want.”

“Take my pants off.” I griped, tilting my head back.

“Good girl.”

Two little words.

They sent a shockwave through my body, running straight to my core.

I let out a soft whimper as he pushed at the waistband of my pants.

“M’too tired to fuck you.” He said softly. “But I promise to make you feel so good, sweet pea. Gonna have you cummin’ fo’ me.”

“Please.”

I shifted my hips as he moved the waistband of my sweats to my thighs, his hand brushing up the skin of my leg to my hip. He gave it a soft squeeze as our lips collided and I squirmed beneath him. He pulled back, brushing his nose against mine with his eyes shut tight.

“Do you want my fingers?” He asked me softly.

“I do.” I nodded. “My fingers are too small and I can never get the angle right when I try.”

“Fuck, pea.” He groaned, opening his eyes. “You’re killing me, my love.”

“Just want to love you.” I pouted my bottom lip out. “Wanna feel good.”

“I know, darling.” He sponged a few soft kisses over my hairline. “Let me get on my back, okay. I want you to ride my fingers.”

Harry wrapped his arms around my body, turning onto his back. I fumbled, my chest pressed tightly to his as he let one of his hands trail over my bum. I whimpered when he tucked his fingers between the crease of my bum and my thigh, brushing the pads of his fingers over my lower lips. His other hand maneuvered its way between our bodies, his thumb brushing swiftly over my clit before it dipped towards my entrance.

“S’this okay?” He asked. “You feel comfortable?”

“Yes.” I nodded. “I’m good.”

He inserted his thumb, pulling it out quickly before he slipped it back up to my clit.

He rubbed soft circles over it as his fore and middle finger brushed over my entrance in a teasing manner.

I rolled my hips, desperate to have them inside of me.

“Yeah, just like that.” He said gruffly. “Ride my fingers, sweet pea. Take what you want from me.”

I gasped when he pushed two fingers into me, my slick walls stretching around them as I moved my hips. I pushed down as Harry curled his fingers up, stroking over that spongy spot inside of me. I moved my hips up, his fingers sliding out slowly before I fucked back onto them. He cooed, brushing the pad of his thumb over my clit in quick circles.

“You’re so tight, Piper.” He whispered into my hairline as I gripped onto his shoulders. “You’re clenching my fingers so tight.”

“Feels so good, Harry.” I whimpered. “Wanna cum.”

“Are you close?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his voice. “My girl is so greedy, isn’t she? Gonna cum before I properly fuck her with my fingers becuase she wants it so bad, isn’t that right?”

“Yes.” I gasped against his throat. “I need to cum, Harry. It feels so good and I can’t...I need it, baby. Please let me cum.”

“Take it.” He said, sliding his free hand up to my hip. “Take it from me, Piper. Make yourself cum for me sweet pea.”

I felt my thighs clamping as he pressed harder against my clit, my hips stilling against his hand as he stroked that spongy spot inside of me. I felt my walls clenching down around his digits, my whole body warm as my mouth fell open. It was better than any orgasm I had ever experienced on my own and it had me crying out into the skin of his neck. He brushed his hand up my back, slowly slipping my fingers out as I started to come down.

“You’re so good.” he whispered. “That was perfect, darling. Did so well for me, didn’t you, pea?”

“That was nice.” I mewled. “Thank you, thank you-”

“Gonna treat you so good tomorrow, darling.” He promised, a sharp edge to his voice. “Gonna spend hours with my head between those pretty thighs and then I’m gonna fuck you like you want. Gonna have you screaming for me, sweet pea.”

I whimpered into his neck, nodding.

“I want that.” I whispered.

My eyes felt heavy as he started to pull my pants back up.

“I love you so much, H.” I whispered, my eyes slipping shut as he covered me up. “Love you, darling.”

“I love you more, pea.” he whispered. “Go to sleep, baby. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

I drifted off to the sound of Harry’s voice, my face snuggling into his shirt.

This was all I ever needed.

#kaylee i hope you like this #stellarboystyles3years #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles frat au #harry styles frat boy #harry smut #harry writing #harry fluff #fray boy au #best friend #friends to lovers #bff!harry #fratboy!harry

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all-my-love-for-harry · 3 years

Text

I love you meow and furever

summary: the hard part about having animals is knowing we’re their whole life but they’re only here for a small part of ours.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: angst with some fluff, mentions of death (of a pet) and grieving a loss.

a/n: hello again! i know i haven’t posted in a while and i’m sorry! i’ve been writing some pieces, trying to make longer one shots and whatnot, hopefully those will be out soon enough. the reason why i’m posting this is because recently my childhood cat passed away and i wrote this trying to feel a little better. hope you enjoy, please please let me know what you think!

read the rest of my work here.

(gif not mine)

Salem wasn't only a cat. Salem was a companion, a friend. Salem was, for the longest time, her shoulder to cry on. The only one who was there for her every night after a shitty day. She knew from the moment she looked into those yellow eyes that she was going to do whatever it takes to give that cat the best life it could possibly have. Y/n knew pets aren't immortal, and after fifteen years with hers, she tries to prepare herself for the day where Salem couldn't be with her anymore. People close to her tried to avoid the topic, and honestly so did she. Y/n didn't want to talk about how the world would look like after Salem is gone, so she always focused on her furry friend that was cuddled with her on the bed and pushing those thoughts away.

But all the preparation didn't make it hurt anything less when the day actually came.

It wasn't long after Y/n moved in with her boyfriend of two years, Harry. Both Y/n and Salem got used to the house pretty quickly, and Harry never minded seeing the black cat's things around the house, if anything it made him like his house was becoming a home and for once it looked like someone actually lived there. He liked the idea of coming home and going straight to the living room because he just knew he'd find them cuddling there. Salem was also an extremely well-behaved cat, he's never in his life scratched or hissed at anyone and has always been loving and affectionate. As Salem got old, it got harder for him to do things he used to do when he was a kitten. He stopped eating at some point and started to lose a lot of weight, causing Y/n to give him vitamins and all kinds of supplements to help him gain weight again. For some time it worked, and Y/n felt incredibly relieved about it. But then it got hard for Salem to get up and move around, causing him problems to go to the bathroom.

Harry was out at the gym when he got a call from Y/n. It was the way her shaky voice was interrupted with hiccups every few words and how she was practically asking him to rush home without really asking how he knew the moment of putting Salem down has arrived. Harry wasn't sure if he had ever experienced that kind of pain before that day, and to this day he still couldn't describe the way his heart broke into a million pieces when Salem's heart stopped beating and Y/n couldn't breathe because of how hard she was crying. He remembered staying on the floor with her for hours, letting her cry on his chest. She'd stop for a moment, thinking she had no tears left to cry but then she remembered her life companion was gone and a new wave of sobs hit her. That circle went on until the sun went down and the natural light of the moon was the only thing illuminating them.

Weeks passed and Harry didn't even question when he found cat food still in the kitchen, or when he saw Salem's toys and cat trees still around the house. She didn't seem to want to throw them away, and Harry certainly wasn't going to ask her to. He also didn't question the time he found her crying on the floor of the kitchen of their shared house because she bought cat food when she was at the store without realizing she didn't need it anymore.

However, Harry didn't realize how emotionally dependent she was on Salem until he came home one day and found her crying in their bedroom while holding a blanket Salem used to sleep with. He didn't know what to do to help her, and he hated the fact that he felt so useless.

"I just don't know what to do anymore, mum." He said one day through the phone. "I hate seeing her like this."

Anne sighed. "Poor Y/n, everyone knew how much Salem meant to her."

"What can I do to make it better?"

"Here's the thing, sweetheart. It's never going to stop hurting. Time will help, for sure, but it will keep hurting until it becomes a more bearable pain." She paused. "Let her grieve her loss. When the time is right, you will pull her out of that hole, I'm sure of that." Harry nodded even though his mum couldn't exactly see him. "Maybe not right now but, perhaps adopting a new kitten would help."

"I thought of that, I just didn't know how to bring it up to her. Don't want her to think I'm ready to replace Salem." He sighed. He only knew the cat for two years, but it was enough to know it hurt him too. He's shed a few tears himself, mostly in the shower to try and not disturb his girlfriend. "I'll tell you what we decide, I gotta go mum."

"Please do. I love you, baby."

"Love you too, mum."

Just as he told his mum, Harry started to find ways to tell Y/n they could adopt a pet if she wanted to, he understood if she didn't want to have another cat, but he knew how much Y/N loved animals. She was so good to them and had such a big heart Harry couldn't think she'd stop herself from giving some of all the love she had to offer to an animal that needed it. It could be a cat, a dog, hell he'd buy her a fish if that was what her heart desired.

Ever since Salem passed, Y/n laid on the bed of their bedroom and played All Dead, All Dead by Queen religiously every day through the speakers. Of course, Harry let her be. It was her coping mechanism, he guessed. So when he heard the music upstairs, he immediately knew where to find her. He stood by the doorway, looking at the love of her life lying on their bed. He hesitates to enter the room, not wanting to disturb her, but he needed to talk to her so he pushed himself from the doorway and made his way to where she was, taking a seat next to her.

"Hey, lovie." He said softly, reaching for her hand.

"Hey, H." She gave him a small smile. "I'll be down in a minute."

"Take your time, darling. I... wanted to talk to you about something."

"Is everything okay?" She furrowed her eyebrows.

"Yeah! It's nothing bad, I promise." He said. "I talked to mum, she said the Humane Society back home just got a bunch of rescues in need for a home." Y/n opened her mouth to say something but Harry was not done. "I thought we could drive there this week and go there. We don't need to adopt one if you don't want to but look around wouldn't hurt."

"Harry... I'm not ready." She said. "I'm not sure I can go there without breaking into sobs."

"I'll be there with you, baby. I swear you'll be fine."

"I'm not ready to have another one." She said in a shaky voice. "I feel like... like I'm betraying Sally in a way. It's been only two months and... I miss him, H." Y/n started crying again. "I'm scared of forgetting him, how he was like. What if we adopt one and I forget him?"

"Oh, sweetheart." He cooed, taking her into his arms. "That's not going to happen. Salem will always be present with us and will always watch over you as he used to when he was here. Adopting another pet won't change what you lived with Salem, or how much he meant and still means to you. I get that you're not ready, but I also know how much you love cats, and how you're always thinking about the ones that don't have a home, someone to love them and take care of them. You have the biggest heart, and you've always been so good to animals, I wouldn't want you to close off to the idea of giving one the opportunity to experience what it feels like to have a person who loves them. We don't have to go this week if you don't want to but promise me you'll think about it, alright?"

"I promise." That's all she said before wrapping her arms around Harry's torso, cuddling closer to him.

Y/n thought about it for a while, she really did. Everything Harry said stuck in her head and with every day that passed, she felt less and less guilty of thinking about getting a new cat. The thought was still at the back of her head and it obviously still hurt but Y/n thought she was ready to accept Harry's offer to go to the Humane Society to look at the kittens and doing it without having a mental breakdown. She decided to tell Harry as they were making breakfast, only two weeks later after he first brought it up.

"So... I thought about what you told me the other day." She started. Harry's face lights up as he immediately knew what she was talking about. "And I think you're right. We can go there and look at the kittens. We don't have to adopt one."

"We don't have to adopt one." He reassured her, although he knew that thought might change once they crossed the doors of the Humane Society.

They decided to go on Wednesday. Halfway through the week, probably not many people would be there meaning they would have more time with the kittens if they wanted. The entire ride Harry could feel the anxiety radiating from Y/n's body. She was nervous, very nervous. No matter how many times she tried to convince herself she was fine, she still knew she was going to cry as soon as they entered the building. That's why she let Harry do all the talking and just followed him through the hallway that would take them to the room where they had all the cats. They had the cats and the dogs in different rooms, the majority of the dogs were in cages but the cats were allowed outside of them. They were the only ones there so as soon as they entered, Y/n cooed out loud at the sight of the cats and sat on the floor where immediately a couple of them walked towards her and started to sniff her.

"I'm going to cry." She announced.

"They're cute, aren't they?" Harry said, extending one hand towards an orange cat for it to sniff. "This one's name's Chester."

She looked up at Harry with tears in her eyes. "I want them all."

"I know you do." He smiled sweetly at her.

They spent a couple of hours there, just hanging out with all of the cats. Some of them were shy and wouldn't come close to them, and some would even lay on their laps and take a nap. The only thing Y/n could think about was how badly she wanted one. She's missed having the weight of a little ball of fur on top of you, purring and begging for some cuddles.

"Can we get one?" She looked at Harry again, who was patiently waiting for her.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. I mean, I miss having a pet. And you're right, I will always love Salem, that won't change."

Harry nodded. "What if we get a kitten? You said that when you got Salem he was already a year old."

"I think a kitten will be amazing."

There were only two girl kittens available, one was a small white one and the other one was a tortoiseshell. The latest was so unique looking, and wouldn't stop rubbing herself on Harry's hand. The cat allowed Y/n to pick her up and started purring right away. y the look in his girlfriend's eyes, Harry knew that was the one.

They decided to name her Misty. They thought it suits her. Y/n couldn't stop smiling even after leaving the Humane Society, and Harry felt so happy about it. They told them they could come to pick Misty up next Monday, so they had to wait almost a whole week to finally take their new kitten home, but that didn't matter. Harry was fine now that Y/n's smile was back on her face. All she could talk about during the week was how excited she was about getting Misty, so Harry knew he made the right choice by taking her there.

When Sunday came, Harry felt how Y/n started to grow anxious again, her guilty thoughts making a comeback. So he decided to give her something to reassure her that everything was going to be fine.

"So I saw you with Sally's blanket again," Harry said, walking towards her with something behind his back. "And I know what's going through that little head of yours, so I wanted to give you something to assure you he will always be here with us." He shyly put what he was hiding on her lap. Y/n's eyes immediately watered when she saw the framed picture of the two of them with Salem. It was from Y/n's birthday. Anne took it after Y/n blew the candles of her cake, a huge smile on her face while Harry was holding Salem, a smile on his own face. Salem was wearing one of those birthday hats. "You can put it by the fireplace, or by your nightstand."

Y/n looked up at Harry. "Thank you." She breathed out, instantly wrapping her arms around his neck, hugging him tightly. "I love you so much, Harry."

"I love you too, darling. Just as much as Salem and Misty love you."

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs

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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years

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∘◦ ♥ ◦∘ Peter Parker - Everything Happens for a Reason ∘◦ ♥ ◦∘

A/N - I only wrote it a couple of months ago and due to the close nature of it, I haven’t uploaded it anywhere. I hope you like my first (10k) Peter Parker fic. I know that the timeline doesn’t make sense, but in all honesty, Endgame and FFH messed it up plenty so I just kinda placed this in no-mans-time. And I know the compound was destroyed during Endgame, so just bear with the fact that I’ve made it so that Strange and his wizards rebuilt it for survivors :)

Warnings - making out and shadows to sex, SWEARING, bad parenting, mentions of grief, mentions of injury and disability, angst, death of parents etc. Also, don’t read if you haven’t seen endgame because it’ll be spoiled in the first paragraph of this.

Summary - Stark!reader x Peter Parker, post endgame. Months after the death of your father, your aunt, and the retirement of your uncle, you find yourself in a sticky situation, and to make it even worse, your childhood crush doesn’t even recognise you now. Then again, doing most of your growing up while half of the population is dead doesn’t exactly bode well for your love life nor your commitment issues. When things finally start to turn around while learning to live with a disability, will you still be taken away to live with your step-mother, or will love pan out at last? After all, everything happens for a reason.

IT'S BEEN JUST OVER THREE MONTHS since the final battle, and therefore just over three months since you said goodbye to the only three role models you had for the most important five years of your life. Well, the three are debatable.

Your dad had died, still holding your hand, after saving humanity like he always did, allowing the burden of the Stark name to fall onto you at long last. Your uncle Steve - tutor extraordinaire - had officially retired and moved away, and you haven’t seen him since the final goodbye, leaving you more and more doubtful every day you’ll ever see him again. And your aunty Nat let herself go, she pushed herself away from that cliff, and let uncle Clint live, to help give you a better life, but what Nat didn’t realise was that you lost them both that day, because Clint hasn’t been back since. He’s never coming back now from the trauma, the man who was more of a father than your dad ever was.

It was quite possibly the worst period of your whole life, but then again, when half of the world is destroyed before you’ve even hit puberty, you don’t really have much to hold it against.

But here you are again, stuck in your room in the semi-rebuilt compound, grounded by FRIDAY while the step monster and child are at the lake house, living happily ever after. What the issue is, you don’t know. All you did was get a piercing... and be rude to Peter. And Sam. And everyone in the building- ok maybe she has a point, but hey, you’re grieving the loss of everyone major in your life, and you can barely do anything for yourself.

It’s like five years ago all over again. Everyone you’d grown accustomed to, your friends, your mom, your idols - even if they weren’t dead, they were lost for a long time - and your crush. The one and only Peter Parker. Much to your surprise, you got over most of the deaths pretty quickly. There wasn’t much to understand - they were gone and they wouldn’t come back no matter what, so what good would worrying and crying do? Obviously, as a young girl, this was the wrong response, so this is when Pepper got her name. “Don’t be so insensitive! Those were your dad's best friends, people he worked with for years. Those people were his family, and mine, and yours.”

You scoffed at her, the way you always seemed to do. “Yeah, ok. But my mum died, and am I making a fuss? No. She died for a reason, they all did,” and under your breath, you added “I still just need to figure that reason out.”

You held back from the obvious “they were my family too” bullshit, because your dad never believed that, even when you spent most of your time at his house with the Avengers instead of him. It wasn’t that you hated your mom or your dad, you loved them both equally and spent time with them both, but when one dies and one goes missing and spirals into lord knows what after going missing in space with a blue alienoid, everything gets a little complicated and stops making sense. Spending more time with your dad was scary too, seeing the intricacies of Avengers life in a capacity which you didn’t understand for a long time growing up. That only lasted for a year before he took off and made you be a tennis ball in a flawed game between him and Rhodey. Every weekend for five years you drove from the compound to the lake house. You lost out on a lot from that, and your dad didn’t even seem phased, because he had Morgan.

But beneath all of the hatred that had made you so rebellious since you turned fifteen, there was something deeper.

Considering how stone faced and resolute you are and always have been, considering how harsh you are about the realities and never getting caught up in mindless emotions, no matter how much you claim that your grieving time was over the second that you pushed your dad's heart away, mere weeks after feeling his pulse drop as you laced your fingers with his, no one would believe that it was all a lie.

Every night since that snap more than five years ago, you’ve done the same thing. Make a cup of hot chocolate (an iced decaf latte if it was summer), and you’d take it to bed and just cry until you could no more and simply fell asleep. You weren’t even sure why you cried, because after all there wasn’t really any reason to. The world was moving on, albeit slower than before, and your life was about as much locked into place as it could be with Tony Stark as your father, but the crying just felt obligatory. After ten, FRIDAY always turned off in your room, that was the agreement your mom had with your dad whenever you stayed there, although you weren’t sure why it made a difference, and it just stuck, so no one saw the pointless tears, no one heard, and no one cared. The only one who ever did care enough whenever you cried had been snapped away, and now he was back, you were just another repugnant face in the crowds, or so you’d guess with the way he looked down upon you.

“It’s ok dad,” you said with a completely straight face, your hard eyes locked onto his, your entire being completely void of emotion, “you can go to sleep.”

He squeezed your hand with his forefinger and middle finger, very lightly, and he just croaked out his final words to you, “my beautiful Sloane, so brave.” So quiet that they were only decipherable to you.

“Life functions critical,” the Irish accent rang in your ears.

Pete had already said his goodbyes, but now it was Pepper’s turn as she wiped your dad's tears away. This time you should’ve been there for each other, a support for one another, after all, they were losing him together and were in the same boat, but sometimes even grief can’t bring people together.

“Tony, look at me. We’re going to be ok..” she pleaded.

Your dad's eyes moved from yours to hers, a sluggish movement that took the remaining life from him. He moved his lips to form two words that broke your heart, because you knew that they were directed at all of you, and they meant so much more than anyone else could understand. Those words were his attempt at making up for being such a shit dad. ‘I’m sorry.’

Pepper kissed him. “You can rest now.”

You didn’t even look around to see anyone else’s face , especially not Peters or Peppers, because as soon as his pulse stopped and his skin slipped from your grip, his body cold, you knew that the chapter of your life with your father in it was over, so you pulled your mask back over your face, and strutted away, as far as possible. You ignored your limp completely, because with all of the numbness, it was like you couldn’t even feel the pain. Except you didn’t disappear, no way, you couldn’t. You watched as they all knelt for him, for the man who missed all of your firsts in life, who was absent when you needed a father and a friend and a leader, and even though you were chronically broken within, every terrible emotion gnawing at you, screaming at you to just feel something and express it; you didn’t. You suppressed it all, and walked away. And of no surprise to you at all, no one followed, or even noticed you were gone.

After all, Tony Stark died for a reason, and at least this time you knew what that reason was.

“Miss?” Someone’s snapping their fingers beside your ear, driving you mental but also snapping you awake from whatever dream that was, reliving the scariest day of your life. “Miss, you fell asleep at the table. We’re clearing it for dinner, please.”

You roll your eyes up at him, instantly recognising Pete’s voice, but you just don’t care. He doesn’t even know who you are. So you scoff, the way you did at Pepper so long ago, and you leave without a second glance.

“Are you a relative of Nat’s? I- I heard someone was coming over to stay...” his voice yells down the corridor.

“You can’t be serious Peter. You don’t recognise me at all?”

And with that, you snatch your water bottle from the edge of the counter with your spare hand and resolutely stamp off down the corridor, your feet loosely wading in your docs with your crutch assisting you along the way.

You’re leaving soon, so you won’t have to deal with him. But you still have another year or two of high school to compete with, and with your tutor gone - your dad refused to send you back to school after the snap, so it was left up to whoever wanted the job, and Cap wanted it a lot more than he did, so you spent your weeks driving from the city to the lake house after finishing the weeks tutoring, to spend time with your ‘family’ - and now, you seriously doubted that anyone else would want the job. Bucky is too hormonal and grieving the loss of his best friend, Banner is freaking you out, Clint is off the grid from another breakdown and it’s like he’s not even human anymore, Wilson is too busy with his new training regime and fighting Buck, and Scott doesn’t know the first thing about what you need to learn thanks to his ditsy persona. Which only leaves Pepper and Rhodey, and which forces you to go back and live in the lake house, away from the shambles of the rebuilt compound, all thanks to Strange and his wizards.

Maybe this is what you need, because now you don’t have to see Pete and get offended every single time he forgets your name and doesn’t have a clue who you are.

That night, you skipped your crying routine, and felt no better nor worse off for doing so. You simply dosed up on your painkillers and drifted off to sleep, filled with irritation and dreams of a mousey hero.

For the next couple of days, you’d just gone about your business and avoided the funny looks from all of the other Avengers at your foul demeanour. None of them that were in and out of the rebuilt compound ever really took notice of you anymore, and you weren’t sure that any of them recognised you anymore, not with all of the piercings and hair dye and the crutches. After all, the last time most of them knew you, you were an annoying child who watched them work and ate dinners with them, and your dinners consisted of smiley face waffles and chicken nuggets. And besides, you were perfectly able back then, and you often had little friends over, or your mom would pop in to say hi on your way home. There’s no chance of that happening anymore. Bucky had recognised you, smiled at you, and occasionally made jokes about you being crippled together, so with any issues you could just turn to him, but this Peter thing annoyed you too much to talk about it, and you didn’t know why.

Speak of the devil-

“Hey, can I sit?” He asks, standing just behind the sofa and hovering awkwardly.

“I don’t care,” you say, all of your words merging and slurring. You signal to the seat beside you yet far enough away for him not to be a bother, and he takes it.

“So h-how are you?”

You watch him suspiciously out of the corner of your eye, because you can just feel his eyes on you, namely on your tits that had suddenly appeared in the last few years.

“I’m fine thank you, Peter. It’s not like no one knows who the fuck I am and I’m living in a literal post war, dystopian, apocalyptic world all alone. How are you, Spider-Man?”

He blanches before your eyes, and you can physically see any words die in the back of his throat.

“I-I’m good.”

Everything stills for a little while, and the only sounds are what's playing on TV and Peter’s occasional swallows, making his Adams apple Bob in your peripheral view. He doesn’t dare look at you, and you can just sense his agitation, mainly from the way he fidgets and weighs the sofa cushions down weirdly with his weird spider legs.

It only takes half an hour for you to wear down and ask him the burning question, his presence beside you enough to make your skin tingle in anticipation and anger bubble within, not to mention the girlish sense that overwhelms you, so contrasting to your dark clothes and self-given bridge piercing.

“Why don’t you speak to me anymore, Peter? Do you seriously not recognise me?”

His eyes fall and his face turns sallow, and he stammers over a few consonants, unable to form any real words.

“I’m Tony’s daughter.” You announce, facing him head on. “Y/N Stark.”

Only after you’ve said that do you realise that he’ll have absolutely no clue what you’re saying, but you can see the cogs whirring in his head as everything is pieced together. His eyes lock onto yours, and they’re the one feature you haven’t changed about yourself in the years that he was gone.

“I changed my name last year, I used to be-”

“-Sloane Stark.” he finishes with you.

He doesn’t take his eyes off yours, too lost in them after he’s been without them for so long. Something’s clicked inside, but scepticism overtakes him. You grasp your hair into a makeshift ponytail at the base of your neck, all the loose ringlets in different shades tickling your neck, but it reveals a thin, pale, bumpy scar on your skin; a thin and jagged line that runs from the base of your ear to the start of your clavicle. You’ve had it since you were 11, when Peter first became a regular at the compound and you began to play together, but then an accident happened, and Peter stayed by your side as you got the stitches, holding your hand.

Finally, he cottons on, and you can see the tears welling up in his chocolate brown orbs.

“Sloane…”

He virtually leaps from his seat and throws his arms around you, completely overcome with all kinds of inexplicable feelings. Love seeps from his body into yours, he clings to you, and even buries his nose into your hair, taking a deep inhalation before sighing in contentment. Even when the average hug time has passed, he doesn’t release you, and keeps his arms wrapped like a koala around your shoulders, his body slowly getting closer and closer towards you and for some reason making you blush. Your arms remain limp around him, and your forefinger traces figures on his lower back, but you don’t squeeze him as much as you did when the surprise of his cuddle attack first hit you.

He eases himself away, but still keeps his hand on your arm, a gentle and warm presence.

It doesn’t hit you for a while that it’s the first hug you’ve received in months, and the first one from Peter in five and a half years.

“I’m guessing that you didn’t snap away like the rest of us then…?” he asks shyly.

His spare hand immediately retracts and rubs the back of his neck anxiously, just the way he used to, but only now do you understand why.

“Nah, I didn’t,” you say, “Sadly I was stuck here in this shambles of an earth, dealing with everyone else's depression and having a little sister forced upon me. I couldn’t even go to school, it was awful.”

His face falls into a deep frown and he searches your face for any sign of your words being cynical, but he finds nothing.

“W-why did you change your name then?”

You shrug, for what feels like the hundredth time in his presence, “Sloane is an awful name, it means ‘raider’ in bloody Irish. None of my family is Irish, my dad suggested the name when he was drunk, and my mum couldn’t think of anything better. Y/N makes me feel like me.”

He nods understandingly and doesn’t push the matter, so you offer a half smile and move your attention back to the TV.

“Why did you change you?” he asks all of a sudden.

The question instantly ingrains itself into your brain, and makes your heart ache. Why would he ask such a thing? Doesn’t he understand what's happened? Why does he even care? But the last thought makes you sick to your stomach, because you know that he always has cared and he always will, he promised you that the first time he was babysitting you and you got all het up over something on the TV. Maybe a part of him knew that it was you all along but he just couldn’t broach the subject, or maybe he didn’t and he thought you’d been snapped away and you simply hadn’t returned. No matter what it was,you knew that you couldn’t blame him, but as his question bounced around your brain and repeated, you had no idea what happened, but you felt any compassion shrivel up, your heart grew cold, your demeanour turned harsh, and your kind response died in your throat. You look him dead in the face and straighten yourself up, your eyes devoid of all feeling.

“My mom died, all of my idols and my family and school friends died - Scott, Buck, Sam, you - and my dad was never the same again. I was left with him and the step monster who, who for the record doesn't even like me because of my mom, and Morgan came along, so they forgot about me, and I only stayed three days a week because the rest of the time I was stuck here with a depressed Nat and counsellor Steve, and the latter had to teach me everything I needed for the finish of middle school and my freshman and sophomore years, which was hard in itself. Dad was so depressed, he wouldn’t listen to the words I said about the other Avengers, so apart from Steve tutoring me, I basically raised myself for two years, without friends or anything, and they were two of the most important years of my life . Everyone forgot about me. I was just turned fifteen and more adept at coping in this world than any adult I’ve known. I hated my name and what came with it, and I never really liked myself, that's always been the case. I hated my appearance and I had no one to make me feel nice when you died, because you always told me that I was pretty, just like a princess, and you kept me sane. Fuck, Pete, you held me together, and all of that faded when you died, because as soon as you were gone, everything else around me crumbled.” You inhale a sharp intake of breath, and move to stand, snatching your crutches from the floor. “Long story short, while all of you were gone, I grew up. I’m 17 now, I may be different to how you remember but at least I feel comfortable now. I really did grow up peter, and you need to start doing the same. My dad is never coming back.”

And just like the days before, you scurry off back to your room and bury any inhibitions beneath your pillow, leaving Peter in the living room, completely crushed and left to mull your words over alone while he waits for May to get home.

Five days later, and you can’t take the silence anymore. Peter practically hides and runs for shelter each time he hears you approach, you saw the footage on FRIDAY’s cams. It really upset you for the first two days, but with each shy, rushed smile and fleeting glance he takes at you, each one that makes your stomach do little flips, they just remind you how cruel you were to him, how brutally honest, when Peter needs more time to heal than you do most likely, as your dad meant more to Pete than he did to you, and if anything then that's a reflection on Tony. He wanted a son. Maybe Peter feels guilty, mabe he’s sad, maybe he just straight up doesn’t like you, but whatever it is, you don’t fucking like it, so you’re preparing for the move in two days time. Far earlier than planned.

With each piece of clothing you fold, with each piece of metal shrapnel you toss into your jewellery box, with each eyeliner you tuck away in a bag, you run everything that's happened in the past week through your head. You called Scott up to see how he’s getting on with Hope and Cassie, you spoke to Laura - no longer a secret - who just told you that Barton is in almost as bad a place as before, just without the machetes and with a lot more crying and whiskey, you spoke to Rhodey for an update on the lake house/new home situation and put all of the plans in place, but you did shut down his heartfelt offer to be another father figure, starting with a controversial suggestion to send you to therapy or rehab for your ‘lashing outs’, and you’d made amends with Sam who was surprisingly okay with your whole new thing going on, and he said he loved your vibe and gave hair dye suggestions, making you rethink your decision to leave all over again. Bucky had taken you shopping, hoping for retail to cure both of your depressive episodes, but it didn't really help even if the long, deep conversation over milkshakes at a nearby diner did help, and he cradled your head in his lap as you told him you’d miss him more than the others. He told you that you were being stupid about Peter and that the kid really likes you, but you retorted with a scoff, saying he’d never fancy you the way you fancy him.

Ah, yeah, that revelation, the one which makes you throw a sweater full force into your open trunk, sitting at the base of your bed. With a loud groan, you throw yourself dramatically down onto the bed and savour the soft comforter for one of the last times; after all, the place will probably be gone, along with the remnants of FRIDAY by the time you return, if you ever go.

“Where are you off to?” Peter asks from the doorway, his voice inquisitive and startling you from your angered daze.

He must’ve seen your bags half packed in your room, lying out on your bed beside you. You turn your head to look at him, your eyes thin and bullet-like.

“I’m leaving.” You snap rather viciously, and prop yourself up on your elbows. “The Cap’n has gone, and I’ve been out of school too long to go back. The Step-Monster needs to ‘tutor me’, and I need to teach the little brat.” You’re referring to Morgan, but Peter doesn’t seem to pick that up by the looks of his furrowed brows. He certainly looks relaxed though, leaning against your doorframe.

“Why can’t you stay here?” Peter asks and You shrug, unsure how to respond. “I- I’m sure Mr Falcon would help teach you, or- or Wanda?”

Shit, Wanda. You’d practically forgotten she existed from how much of a recluse she was now. You should probably go and check on her or at the very least have a chat with her. She was dead for five years, just like Vis, but when she comes back she’s still not over him after months? Sounds fake but ok...

“Wanda has even less of an education than I do.” You retaliate with a foul attitude and an even fouler taste in your mouth, turning your back on him when you stand, and going back to your packing. You try your best to ignore his presence, but you can just feel him hovering metres away, itching to do or say something to you.

“Well then you can stay living here and enrol in Midtown High with me. We’d be the same year now and I could show you the ropes.”

Ok now you know he’s fucking with you.

“Peter, I can’t go to midtown.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve been out of co-ed for too long, let alone education, as I haven’t had any since like fucking February, and I’m too traumatised and crippled for them. How would that look eh? Y/N Stark enrolling for junior year after the death of The Tony Stark?” Peter goes quiet. “And anyway, it’s not like I have the brains, at all. I’m not smart like you, Peter. I’m as thick as two short planks. I got my mom’s brains and some of my dad's abilities. I can chuck on suits all I like, I can build shit all day, and I can play sports like no one's business; or at least I could.” Having your one ankle completely useless is a complete bummer, maybe even more so than losing everyone, because now you actually have to live with being this way. They don’t have to live. “But the second you give me a math equation, I’m gone.”

“Couldn’t you live with your mom then? Mr Stark said she doesn’t live too far out of state, nowhere near as far as the lake house.”

“My dads fucking dead Peter, he doesn’t control shit anymore” You find yourself shouting, your eyes burning into his with a fire of fury behind them. “My mom came back after the snap but she hasn’t answered any of my calls, and she fled the house when I turned up on her goddamn doorstep. She ain’t no option anymore, my authority is Potts.”

He gives you a sad smile but slinks away. No surprise there, last time he saw you, you were twelve years old and tugging on his trouser leg to get him to play basketball with you. You didn’t have anywhere near this level of anger, and you’d never have dared scream at him, let alone repeating the words that hit him like daggers mere days ago.

The next day comes too soon, and you’re just chilling , finishing up the last of your packing, and trying to ignore anything pushing you to stay. Why did your chat with Peter compel you to want to stay here instead? What is it about him that always brings you full circle, and makes you feel like that love struck child again?

From your mirror, as you’re adjusting your blouse and switching out your nose stud, you see Peter approaching, steadily advancing down the corridor. Twice he stops, and takes a step back, as well as turning and looking the other way as though doubting his decision to come into your room, but when you see his knuckles come in contact with the wood of your door, as he knocks gently, and the sound floats into your ears, making you turn around to see his meek smile with his head hung low.

“You can come in Pete,” you exhale, “I won’t bite your head off.”

He chuckles lowly and advances towards the bed. He gestures, and you nod, giving him permission and hobbling over to join him moments later. He seems flustered, you can tell me by the way he’s struggling to maintain eye contact and the manner in which his hands are convulsing in his lap. Seeing him like this makes you uncomfortable, and you can even feel bile rising in your throat.

“Peter, I-”

“No, Y/N, please let me, I mean, I wanna talk.”

You smile and bow out, allowing him space to align his thoughts with his words, after all, you’ve known that it takes him a while to do that, but it’s necessary in any kind of emotional situation with someone as awkward as Petter; just the thought causes butterflies to flutter around in your stomach and windpipe.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, for nagging you and insisting, and for asking you those questions and trying to make you stay. I just, I really just don’t want you to leave. I was insensitive, and I should’ve recognised you beforehand.” You can feel tears pooling behind your eyes, and it takes all of your willpower to not let them fall. “I just want you to do as well as you can, and I wish you all the best, I just wish I could’ve gotten to know you better before it was too late; ok Stark?”

His lips quirk into a smile, yet his voice breaks as he calls you Stark. It physically hurts to hear him say that, and you want to tell him that it’s okay, and he has every right to be upset and grieving, and you know you shouldn’t have shouted at him and gotten so defensive because after all he’s one of the only people you can let your guard down around. You just want to say that it’s not his fault, except you can’t find the words.

“Why can’t you stay?” He asks sincerely, even a touch of desperation there.

Your heart drops to your feet at his expression, and your next words come out as a hushed, pained whisper, your words slow and detached. “I have no reason to stay.”

He nods dejectedly, almost like he’s giving up on something, and he even moves to stand up while your eyes are glued to the way his muscles ripple with each movement, but halfway to being upright, he changes his mind and turns towards you.

The next thing you know, you feel the soft pressure of his thumb on your chin, followed by the pads of his fingers on the soft skin underneath, tilting your head up to look him in his gorgeous eyes, like molten honey in the soft sunlight of your bedroom. Just the sight of his lips slightly parted causes your mouth to go dry, but you don’t have too long to think about that, because all of your thoughts dissipate with the featherlight pressure and sweet, intoxicating taste of his lips on yours. His nose nudges your cheek ever so gently. It’s barely there, and over far too soon, it still makes your head spin. Christ, you’ve been waiting for that to happen for upwards of five years, and it was just as beautiful as you hoped it would be.

“How about now?” He inquires, a stark contrast of shyness and courage written all over his face.

“Why don’t you kiss me again and we’ll find out?”

You fist the fabric of his t-shirt and pull him towards you, leaving Peter shocked by the strength in just one hand, seeing as he finds his body hovering above yours just seconds later. He looks hungry, already ravishing you with his eyes as you kiss and kitten lick just below his ear. He holds his weight up but leaves no time to press his lips against yours, urgently, passionately. You moan a little at how desperate he is to get his hands on you, the way he knots one hand in your hair, splayed out on the pillow beside you, the way he’s senselessly grinding his crotch onto you. You don’t mind at all, especially not the breathy calls of your name he lets out when you knot your legs around his lower back to pull him closer. It's a primal desire that keeps you moving. His tongue glides across your lower lip, prying its way in, and you just let it happen, too caught up in the moment to do anything else.

“Pete, fuck…”

Your one hand slides under his shirt and runs across the ripples of his abs, you savour the way he tenses beneath your touch, the way the scars feel tenders beneath your hungry touch. You other hand threads into his soft brown locks. You pull gently and elicit the most perfect guttural groan from him.

“Y/N,” he almost pleads, and his lips move to gently suck on your jawline.

You’re surprised that he isn't calling you Sloane, but you certainly aren't complaining. Your name from his tongue does things to you that you can’t even explain.

You dance your fingers from his hair across to his face, and push his cheek gently. Your eyes are thin, focussed on him, but Peter’s pupils are heavily blown with lust, leaving only a faint rim of golden brown around the edge.

“You’re so perfect,” he rasps out, and your stomach coils in desire. Your face must look so pouty, so wanton, but you can’t find it within yourself to care.

“Fuck me, Peter.”

He looks like a deer in headlights momentarily, but gets over it quickly, attaching his lips back on yours and allowing his tongue to roam your mouth, savuring and swallowing every whimper and moan that escapes your pretty lips.You let your hand, the one still beneath his shirt, skim over his muscles to where his heart is, beating at a double pace, thrumming gently beneath your hand. It makes your ego inflate tenfold, knowing that you’ve gotten this flustered and needy.

Just as you’re really getting lost in the pleasure, Peter’s hand cupping and massaging your breast as his mouth works wonders on intoxicating you, you hear a rather loud cough from your doorway, and everything stops. You and Peter both freeze at the same moment, and you drop any stance, fully detaching yourselves to glance at who’s there.

“You kids should be careful, and next time, close the door.”

And with that, Bucky’s gone from view as quickly as he appeared, leaving you both with a mere glimpse at him in his sweats with a coffee cup in his hands, no doubt filled with earl grey tea being the old lady he is.

In the heat of the moment, you’d both forgotten to close the door and turn FRIDAY off. And Rhodey can access all of the footage. Fuck. Oh well, you’ve already been caught once, why stop now?

You wrap an arm around Peter's shoulders and pull yourself up until you’re straddling his lap and upper thighs, eagerly rubbing yourself against the material of his jeans to try and get some kind of friction. He slides an arm around your waist, and you move in to kiss him, only for him to turn his head the other way.

The moment couldn’t have been lost from Bucky’s playfully snarky comment, could it? You want nothing more than for him to kiss you again, earnestly, fervently, but he doesn’t even spare you a glance, not even when he pushes you from his lip and stands up with his head in his hands.

Apparently he doesn’t feel the same.

“Crap, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Why did I do that? Y/N…”

He even begins to pace, that’s when you know that he thinks he’s fucked up.

“You know why I shouldn’t have done that right, don’t you?” he asks, stuttering random syllables in no specific order, but you do notice that with each pace, he paces his way closer to your open door.

“Yeah,” you lie, but you’ll work that out tonight, “I get it. But it’s fine. And I need to pack…”

He smiles nervously, and with a few careless gestures and no words, he stalks into the corridor and closes your door behind him. You can hear him lettering a long-held breath out.

All of a sudden, you feel completely sick to your stomach. Why would he do that? It was so God damn cryptic. One second he’s apologising, asking you to stay, pashing you senseless, and the next he’s keeping as much distance from you as possible, apologising, and treating you like a child.

That’s when it hits you.

He feels like he’s kissing the old you. You grew up without him there, and in the space of what was merely a nap to him, you grew five years older, grew tits, matured, changed every aspect about yourself, and developed a sex drive; whereas he didn’t change one bit, he’s still the same peter that he was when you were an aggravating child, crushing on him from afar and trying to be like him. He feels predatory at kissing you, because all he’s ever known you as is a child, and this is all new territory, a territory he’s too scared to broach because he can’t get permission from the man himself.

Maybe that’s why your dad had to die, so that you’d never end up with Peter, and that’s Earth punishing you for some godforsaken reason.

So you just lie there, far salty tears involuntarily dripping down your cheeks as you sit there and think. Will you ever just be fucking happy?

Happy’s set to pick you up at noon today, and after a night of scarcely five hours of sleep, you are not in the mood for anyone and their funny business, especially not Peter, and you aren’t exactly peppy for the hour long drive to arrive there with the Bimbo and the Brat. Well, at least everyone has low expectations of you, so it shouldn’t be that much of an issue when you simply scowl at them and flip them off until you chuck yourself into the car and wave them goodbye for the last time. You’re not sure if the gravity of the situation has hit you yet, maybe you’re repressing it, or maybe it simply just does not bother you, the same way that most things don’t.

You don’t even bother with your appearance, and stick to black trackies and a cropped tank top, with a mildly colourful button-down open over the top. Seeing as your docs are packed in the ‘hide from Pepper’ box, you toss on your worn down black converse and begrudgingly throw your hair up in what you hoped would be a messy bun but ends up looking more like a lopsided half-up ponytail, so you snap the hair tie and throw it away. Hey, that’s an easy way to deal with the Peter issue. Snap him in half and chuck him in the trash where he rightfully belongs after yesterday.

All you have for breakfast is an iced coffee, and justly so, no one dares even make eye contact with you. By ten, all of your bags are out in the hallway, and not a single personal affect is left in your room. You say a quick goodbye to FRIDAY, and hobble out into the living room, where you spend the next almost two hours either staring blankly ahead of you and ignoring what’s on the screen, or picking at your crutches while you analyse the previous day with Peter. No matter how much you want to hate him, you can't refute the way he made you feel, completely under his control, so willing and malleable, so eager and hungry and loved.

Happy pulls up at 11.55, and you begin to help him load everything into the car, but get refused after two bags and therefore two trips downstairs after you nearly fall face first and your crutches slip from your arms. The rest is down within seconds by Sam and Bucky.

You said goodbye to Wanda a couple of days ago when you popped in for a chat, but she’d still made her way out here, so you give her a quick hug and wish her well, and you see that May has made her way out to see you off, but Peter is nowhere to be found which makes your cheeks burn with anger.

“I’m so sorry for now knowing who you were my love,” she tells you, running a hand through your hair, “Peter told me all about you before it all happened, he said you were such a cutie, and I know that he would’ve made more of an effort had he recognised you.”

You chuckle softly, hug her, and simply don’t reply. What are you supposed to say to something like that? Bucky and Sam appear back at the top of the stairs and advance towards you, knocking each other out of the way in a playful battle to hug you first. Sam wins by tickling Bucky just beneath his ribs, and bear hugs you, making you feel like a baby koala.

“Use protection next time, and please, God, shut the door.” He whispers in your ear, making you jump away, your jaw slack, utterly aghast, but he just laughs at your expense.

“You told him about that?” you accuse Bucky, shoving a finger at his chest.

He raises his hands in surrender and even lets out a chuckle before cuddling you, his metal arm somehow a comforting presence around you.

“Of course I did, Doll. It was too good not to tell.”

You swat him gently on his chest, but instead of pulling away just yet, you bury your face in his t-shirt for possibly the last time.

“You two kids get along, or I might have to come here and whip your asses.” you glance between Bucky and Sam, making them laugh, but they nod nonetheless and step backwards to join May, allowing you to leave. You grasp your crutches and let your arms fall through the rests, your hands slipping around the handles like second nature, and you start to make your way out. Something that resembles hope begins to blossom in your stomach, so you muster all of your courage and take a fleeting glimpse over your shoulder, but much to your disappointment yet not very much surprise, he isn’t there. You feel something within your chest physically break, and with the pain all over your body, emotional above all else, stemming from betrayal, you wouldn’t be surprised if it isn’t your heart strings. Oh well, you tell yourself, and in recovery from bowing your head down in embarrassment, you hold your shoulders high with any remaining pride as you take the few steps to the door, ignoring the tears that begin to fall. Your tears are possibly the most confusing thing about this ordeal, you never cried before, not from emotion at least.

“Stop- Y/N, wait, please Sloane…” you hear breathless shouts, followed by hurried footsteps on the linoleum. Instantly, you recognise his voice. “Please stop, I’m begging you.”

You halt your steps, and prop your crutches against the wall, but are slow to turn around, and even when you do, it takes you a moment to actually meet his gaze. His eyes hold all of the hurt he’s feeling. He hardly slept, you can tell by the red rims and deep, sallow bags. The warm chocolate colour is slightly murky, something of an anger in them, maybe even a sense of loss.

You can’t track anything more, because you take one step forwards, and he begins to virtually sprint towards you, his hair bouncing as he dashes across the floor and entwines his arms around you like vines, relentlessly squeezing you and ceasing to let go. He simply just stands there, glued to the spot, holding onto you, and once more you feel the tears well in your eyes. You’ve never been hugged this way, not by anyone, so you make the most of it and gently grasp his t-shirt to draw him impossibly closer, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of warmth and adoration. He moves one hand up to knot in your matted hair, and buries your head closer into his shoulder, which you welcome, even if you’re wetting the shoulder of his shirt with your tears. You lose count of the time until you let go, just savouring the way he holds you so lovingly, and you don’t particularly ever want to let go. All of the rest of the world has disappeared. But still, you both detach yourselves just a little, and you find your lips mere inches away from his perfect lips. Without another thought, something otherworldly takes over, and you find your lips planted together in the most intimate way possible. The tip of his tongue barely has to swipe your lower lip before you grant him access, and as you do, your mind and soul proclaim thanks to the gods. He tastes like heaven and cherry pie - his favourite - and he feels even better. The way his tongue dances with yours is like a massage, second nature, and God, you never want it to stop with how crazy he’s making your mind go, let alone the flock of butterflies fluttering around your stomach. His one hand shifts to the small or your back, and you find yourself wrapping your arms even tighter around Peter until your hands touch, and you have him held in place, in the most perfect position, the one where you know he belongs.

You separate, gasping for air and gulping as much down as you can in such a short amount of time before his hands are in your hair again and he’s kissing you just as sweetly, yet hotly, as before. The sensual way he gazes at you makes your insides turn to mush in seconds, and you have to look away even before he kisses you again because you fear you shan’t be able to keep his gaze if you ever want to leave this place with your heart intact. This kiss isn’t as long, you realise that as your hands drop to his waist and stay there lightly, feeling the skin above his hips rippling beneath his tensing muscles. His body shifts, as does his grip on you, and he starts to pepper kisses on your lips and cheeks, just small, precious pecks that keep your heart beating with joy and longing. Just the feeling of his lips kissing away your tears as he hovers above you makes you feel alive at long last, and he makes you feel more cherished than you ever imagined you could.

“You need to go, Happy’ll start honking for you any second.” he breathes, the softness of his breath running your eyelashes and allowing your eyes to flutter clothes, his freckles disappearing from your view for a second. Then, as if on cue, Happy's horn resounds. “I’ll walk you down.”

He looks so crestfallen as he pulls away from your and passes you your crutches, keeping a safe distance. And although you both know that everyone saw, it doesn’t matter, and no one says a word, they all just observe quietly, but you can tell that they’re smiling down on you both. You can still taste your salty tears mingled together pressing on your lips, the taste of just indescribably, distinctly Peter stuck in your mouth, a taste you never want to stop tasting.

When Peter crushes, you oblige and scramble onto his back as he carries your crutches, and the walk down the stairwell to where Happy’s parked on the sidewalk is a silent one, but it’s still comfortable. There are so many things the two of you want to say to each other, but it’s too hard to express them given that you’re about to be shipped off somewhere that he’ll probably never make your acquaintance again, no matter how much he wants to spend all of his time with you. You’re more conflicted than you’ve ever felt, so stressed, so hurt, but at the same time you’re so happy that you got to make those memories with Peter before you leave, elated that you made up with him, pleased that you got to feel him kiss you one last time.

When you reach the concrete, Peter gently places you down on your feet, and he puts your crutches into the open door at the back of the car and proceeds to stand nervously beside you, his hands behind his back as he rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet. You have your head down, anxious beyond comparison, just staring at the gravel, until one of Peter's hands comes out from where it was and takes your trembling hand into his palm, his fingers slowly tangling around yours and giving you a gentle squeeze. He switches his gaze over to you and catches your eye. He smiles briefly before bringing your knuckles up to his lips.

“I’ve fancied you since I was eleven,” you tell him, “That’s almost six years, that’s a long ass time.” a brief hint of humour creeps into your pained, quiet voice.

He just chuckles and rubs his thumb over your knuckles, making you smile, despite the pain of the situation. He speaks to you real soft. “I know.”

Your hand feels like it was meant to fit in his and sends a new sort of warmth shooting through your body, but it doesn’t last long before he’s helping you into the backseat of the car and reluctantly removing his nimble fingers from their grip around yours, and placing a gentle, chaste kiss to your forehead for good measure, a kiss you’ll always treasure.

“Don’t,” you plead, feeling a sob suddenly choke your throat when all that’s left are his fingertips grazing yours. “Don’t let go, Peter, please.”

It’s difficult to remain stoic around Peter now, it’s like everything just completely pivoted the day he kissed you, and if you’re honest, you don’t want to go back. You don’t want to be the hateful girl you once were, just longing for him to come back. Now he is back, you don’t have to wait anymore, and he can help you be your old self again. If only he’d just hold your hand forever, and you could actually be together.

And then it hits you. You need Peter almost as much as you need air to breathe, and if he lets go, you’ll be lost, and it’ll feel like it did for five whole years, you’ll be lonely and isolated, and even in the few days that you’ve had him back in your life, that feeling has completely dissipated and been replaced with an albeit confused elation and a warmth of love.

“I have to,” he whispers back his eyes already red, “I have to let you go. It’s what Mr Stark would want.”

He pulls away and closes the door in one swift movement, turning his back on you. You see his mop of brunette curls slip down from view when you peer out the window, hot tears burning your cheeks. You know he’s sitting on the side, his head in his hands, but you can’t look that far, so instead you listen to the soft purr of the car as it comes to live, and you let your laboured breath steam up the glass that your hands are placed on. As you begin to pull away, your final glimpse at your old home escaping you, you see Peter waving frantically and beginning to job alongside you, only stopping once you exit the driveway. Thanks to the tinted windows, you know he can’t see you, but you see him anyway and wave back before your pain overwhelms you. That happens the second he’s gone from your peripheral vision, and your chest caves in loud, wrenching sobs that’ll leave you in pain for days.

Is this what it feels like to have your heartbroken?

Of course it is, you know this, but all of the times you’ve felt it before, it still hasn’t felt this bad. You know that it’s happening for a reason, that God is punishing you this way for a reason, but no matter how hard you try, it just seems endlessly painful, and all for nothing. What could possibly be the reason for this?

You’re so locked in your thoughts that you barely realise that Happy has slowed the car down, and is looking over his shoulder at you, trying to bring you back down by asking how you are and how you feel. Did he not just see that display?

“If I was allowed to stay,” you slightly pant, your teeth gripping and your first clenching of their own accord, “then it could’ve been me and Peter. Just the two of us, the way it was supposed to be as I was growing up. But everything happens for a fucking reason, right?”

Happy just swallows and mumbles something incoherent before sliding the glass back over and starting up at another steady speed. You don’t know why you’re so... angry all of a sudden; you shouldn’t be angry, you should be upset and almost grieving, crying for the loss of an old home but excited for a new one. But yet, what’s the point in all of that? You’ve felt those emotions plenty of times in your short life, and you always thought you felt them for a reason, but where the ever loving fuck is that reasoning right now when you actually need it?

Grieving has lost its effect on you by now, and your mind feels hostile from all of the thoughts whirring around. You’ve had the same thoughts every time someone died - every time you thought your dad died, when your mom died, when Peter died, when everyone else just turned to dust. Then you felt them all over again when your dad died, for real this time, but what was the point? Nothing good ever came of it… nothing except grieving for Peter. You felt the same way you do now, only now it's somehow worse, yet he isn’t dead. You grieved for him more than you did your own mother, because he cared, because he actually paid attention, because he told you that you were pretty for the first time in your life. He always treated you like a person, like an equal, even when you were just a clingy child, vying for someone's attention when neglected by both of your parents because they had better things to do. But even now, now he recognises you again, he’s treated you like an equal, maybe even put you on a pedestal after you were extremely terse and treated him horribly. He still kissed you and cared for you and loved you-

SHIT.

You love Peter. Surely that must’ve been obvious for a long time, but now you’re finally admitting it. You really, genuinely, wholeheartedly love the little shit. Your stomach churns with nerves, and your mind tells you that you’re insane, but your heart… your heart has known all along, despite how much you fought it, and it’s now telling you to go along with it. You’re so… overcome with emotions that you don’t even know where to start or how to react or even try to begin to suss them out to deal with them so you do what feels like second nature the past few days, and you begin to cry, unable to choke it down any longer.

“Turn back happy,” you plead, “Shit! I said turn back now Goddammit!”

“I can’t, Sloane, you know I can’t, bosses orders.”

His words just hurt you more, if that was even possible, and pile something new onto the burning pile of emotions battling for territory within your exhausted brain.

“Happy, turn back right the fuck now, or I will scream until the glass breaks.”

When he does nothing, your sobs become harsher, and something in your throat snaps, forcing you to become hysterical. It’s something primal that takes over your body, a demon's force, because God knows you wouldn’t usually have this in you. You scream. It’s just a shrill sound to begin with, until your heaving chest and tears break through, and make it into a full hysterics game.

“HAPPY! TAKE ME HOME, TAKE ME TO PETER!” you screech, and you repeat the same words until you can’t breathe any longer, but even when your lungs fail you, your hands don’t.

You clip your seatbelt undone and begin punching the glass. It starts off just to be the dark tinted window separating you from happy and the wheel that would allow you to drive home, but even though the glass begins to wobble, it isn’t enough, so you move to the windows, your knuckles and palms coming in contact with the night shaded glass again and again until they’re rattling and even beginning to crack, but the second you feel you can, you release the most bestial, guttural scream that you can muster, and punctuate it with a rough shove to Happy’s chair.

You want to stop, but with all of the loss you’ve been through, you just need this one thing, this one person, this one place to feel complete, and none of it’s happening. It’s unspeakable, indescribable the way you feel, the turf war that’s occurring all over your body driving you insane.

“Just take me to Peter,” you finally beg after what seems like an eternity, collapsing completely into your seat, “I need him, Happy. I need Peter, please… please.”

You’re drained, dehydrated, hurt, and it doesn’t seem like that’s going to change any time soon. You’re driving away from the only happiness you’ve ever known to live in the arse end of nowhere with two people you hate, and so a void just takes over everything that previously embodied you, and you succumb to the emptiness, your last thought being of all the tears you’ve cried over one boy, the only one you’ve ever loved, and now you can’t even tell him that.

It was hard to grieve for someone, only for them to come back, the same way it was hard to grieve for someone who never gave a toss about you. That's what you’re finding so hard about all of this. But now, none of that matters, because he’s gone.

Two months later

The doorbell to the house rings for the third time today, driving you utterly up the wall. First it was the postie with some kind of oversized parcel for Morgan, then it was Happy, here again to help outside and be a ‘watchful eye’ while Pepper is out grocery shopping, apparently since they still don’t trust you rough to take decent care of your own sister.

“MORGAN!” You yell from your place at the back of the house, knowing that from her spot on the sofa in front of paw patrol or whatever shit she’s watching, she’ll hear, “Get the fucking door!”

“Mummy told you not to say bad words, Y/N.” She shouts back, and you can practically hear the signature Stark smirk in her words, although it should be far too early for her to actually be making that face.

That’s one thing they got right with Morgan, though, at least she calls you by your actual name instead of fucking Sloane, even if Pepper does ‘accidentally’ slip up and call you by that awful legacy name from time to time when you really annoy her, say by breaking a vase or some china, or screaming at her using all of the profanities you can think of. She’s really regretting taking you in, now, because you’re simply that much of a handful that she had Happy and Rhodey actually build a quiet room for some respite. You’re still in the rebellious phase, and you don’t seem to be leaving it any time soon, although you have let the dye in your hair grow out and you haven't bleached it… yet, and some of your piercings have naturally closed over, although that was more so that Morgan wouldn’t continually take a metal detector to your face.

Abrupt, your thoughts escape you, and you can’t catch the thread, because after multiple attempts of Morgan’s to click open the reinforced vibranium locks on the doors (Rhodey’s suggestion), and the shifting of a stool to allow her to climb to it, you hear a shriek and some mess of words that sound like ‘Peter’. But no, that's simply impossible. You’re imagining things in your annoyed state, knowing it would’ve been a lot faster and quieter if you just made your way over there yourself.

“It’s for you!”

Now this peaks your attention. No one has been to see you in the whole time you’ve been here, nor have you ever gotten mail. No one comes to see you, so maybe your ears didn’t deceive you.

You leap up from your seat and begin charging to the door, running as quickly and carefully as you can over Morgan's toys, but you’re also careful to not aggravate your injury. One good thing that came from your time there - the only good thing - is that you were able to work with your dad's remaining technology and do intensive physio, resulting in your mobility improving tenfold, also meaning that now you can not only walk but kind of run without assistance. But that doesn’t matter as soon as you see the man standing in the doorway, a bunch of flowers in his hand, and an expression of pure delight on his puppy-like features.

“Y-you can walk?” he blubs, his cheeks red with joy.

The flowers fall from his hands onto the deck, and your eyes fill with tears as your hands fly up to your mouth, only just containing your sobs. Your whole being is overcome with happiness like you’ve never felt before, and it seems like all of your depression since you left him has melted away, and a new you is born.

“You came back for me…” you whisper, just loud enough for him to hear, and in response, he draws his lips into a tight line to contain his smile, and nods his head at you, soft brown curls falling into his soft eyes.

“Why are you sad, Y/N?” Morgan asks, and tugs at your shirt, but you don’t even realise, because the sight of Peter coming towards you is all that you can see and feel, and you begin advancing towards him too, until you collide in a heated kiss. Everything just seems like a tangle of limbs, a clash of teeth, and a battle of tongues. You’re too wrapped up in the feel of him, the passion of the moment, the intimacy of the kiss, that you don’t notice that Peter’s already got you picked up with your whole body tied around him. He tastes utterly delectable, the same as before, and his tongue feels incredible as it sweeps your mouth.

“Morgan-” you pant, “Go find Uncle Happy in the yard, now.” When she doesn’t move, you open your eyes to glare at her, stunned and traumatised into silence with her mouth slightly agape. You can’t bear detaching from Peter’s lips for even a second, so your words are all rushed. “Morgan get out now, I can see him there, in the yard, go!”

The little squirt smiles wryly up at you, but does as she’s told, and scurries off into the mass of flowers and perfectly cut grass. Seeing her gone, you let out a long held breath and smile into Peter’s passionate kiss. All of the love floods back to you, and you feel whole once again. But before you can get too caught up in the sappiness, Peter is already blindly stumbling through the house and kicking the front door closed behind him. Your fingers in his hair, you guide him to the couch.

As he kisses you so tenderly, even in the heated moment, you finally understand what everything was for. Every trial and tribulation in your life was teaching you, helping build you up for this very moment, where it all makes sense.

Everything in life has been for a reason, and that reason is this very moment. The thought makes you smile, but nowhere near as much as Peter’s own smile does.

221 notes · View notes

julemmaes · 3 years

Note

Zero pressure cuz I know you’re working on other things but are u still planning on writing the sequel to I Love You with Cal?

I’m Sorry

acotar next gen fan fic

part two for this one shot here

A/N: I won’t be giving any summary cause it’s 1am and I’m crying cause I just want to be able to sleep, I just hope this will satisfy you all and maybe makes you cry a little cause it was hard to finish it. Please if there’s any mistakes don’t point that out to me, I’ll check tomorrow. Enjoy!

Masterlist

Word count: 3,857

Cal had returned home shortly after dinner. His family had already finished eating and he just wanted to get some rest after the long day he'd had with Raina.

They'd stayed up all night the day before because her parents hadn't been home, and during the day he'd found it difficult to focus on his classes, so much that he'd skipped one in order to take a nap in the university gardens. All of this, of course, hadn't stopped him from going straight back to Raina's house to spend more time together, and while they were supposed to be studying for the upcoming exam they were both taking, they had decided to spend the entire afternoon doing the nasty.

Now, lying on his bed, he tried not to laugh too loudly at the memes he was looking at, so as not to disturb Ezra who was studying despite the hour. Unlike him, his brother couldn't afford to fail an exam and his mother would surely hit him repeatedly if he tried to mess that up.

He was about to shut everything off and warn Raina that he was going to sleep, when Ezra sighed too loudly to be casual. Thinking it was just for the studying, Cal didn't give it that much thought and opened up the chat with his girlfriend, starting to type his goodnight.

"Fuck it." muttered Ezra, closing the book, "Cal, man?"

"Hmm?" he hummed from his spot on the bed.

"Yesterday after you left, something happened and I think you should know because it's partially your fault too and the rest of us have all apologized already." he said in a tone that was far too serious for the relaxed situation they were in.

Cal's head snapped towards him for a second as he saw Ezra get up and walk towards his bed, before returning his attention to the screen where Raina was telling him she was going to take a shower - and think about him in the process. An idle grin appeared on his lips and he held his breath when she sent him a picture in front of the mirror wearing only a pair of panties.

"Can you please listen to me without looking at your phone?" asked Ezra a little more pressing.

Cal huffed, running a hand through his hair and turning off the screen. He crossed his hands over his chest, smiling sarcastically at his brother, "You have my full attention."

It wasn't true. If he wanted to sleep that night, he too would have had to take a shower to get rid of that uneasy itch between his legs. The picture Raina had just sent him shone brightly etched into his eyelids, but he wasn't going to risk Ezra grabbing his phone out of his hands and seeing pictures of his half-naked girlfriend.

Not again, at least.

"You're not listening to me," Ezra blurted, his voice low.

"God you sound like mom when she gets pissed," he snorted. He pulled himself up on his elbows, jerking his chin, "What?"

"I caught Celia coming out of the tavern yesterday and she was crying," the other said, slipping off his shirt to put on his pajamas, "Mom and dad have already talked to her and me and the girls have apologized more than once, I slept in there with them last night, but-" he cleared his throat, running a hand over his face.

Cal forgot about Raina in a split second.

If Celia had cried and Ezra had felt the need to tell him, it meant it was something important.

"But?" urged Cal to continue, sitting up and setting the phone down on the nightstand.

Ezra looked him straight in the eye as he took off his jeans as well, then looked away, shaking his head, "Before I tell you, it's not your fault specifically, it was a lot of things that built up that made her break down for a moment-"

Cal interrupted him, "Can you get straight to the point, please? You're worrying me."

"It's not even that important, I just think you need to know."

"Jesus Christ, just tell me," he snapped.

"Celia had a complete nervous breakdown last night," Ezra said in one breath, kneeling on his bed without even looking at him. Cal's heart clenched in his chest. "She said we don't love her like we love the rest of us," he sighed, "that mom and dad never have time for her basically."

Then Ezra's icy eyes pierced into Cal's hazel ones, and he knew that whatever he said next would be the heaviest bit to hear. He tucked into his shoulders, breathing through his nose.

"She also said that Nora hates her. That you hate her."

Cal closed his eyes, bringing a hand to his forehead, "Fuck." he muttered, "She mentioned me and Nora specifically?"

Ezra didn't answer and Cal opened his eyes, seeing him nod with a grimace on his face, "Dad told her that's not true, obviously, but I think it would be good for her to hear it directly from you."

"Fuck." muttered Cal again. He put his feet on the ground, leaning forward and taking his head in his hands as he remembered how he'd dismissed Celia not once, but twice in the space of a few minutes when she had needed him.

To go have sex, of all things.

"Why didn't you call me? Texted me?" asked Cal, looking over his shoulder at Ezra, "I would have come home sooner." he sighed again when he suddenly remembered the conversation that had taken place only a couple of hours earlier with Celia.

They had been sitting on the couch in the living room in silence when Cal had asked her what movie she wanted to watch and she hadn't answered him right away. She hadn't even looked at him when she'd said, "You don't have to be pretend like you like to stay home with me." before getting up from the couch and going upstairs, probably to her room. Cal had been surprised by those words, but hadn't dwelled too much on his sister's tone of voice or her hurt expression, continuing to text Raina.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." he cursed himself again, thinking about how much that indifference of his had done nothing but prove her fears. He didn't dwell on the image of a distraught Celia crying that appeared in his head too.

Ezra clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, "Listen, if you go in there like this you're just going to scare her," he told him softly, "Calm down for a moment and take a couple of minutes to think, because it sounds like you've been given the worst news you can get, so breathe, think and if you can't get it all done before eleven maybe you should wait until tomorrow morning."

Cal wanted to tell him that it was one of the worst things anyone could say to him, but looking into his eyes he realised that he must have felt the same way the night before.

"Did you find her crying or..?"

Ezra lifted a shoulder, tucking himself under the covers and folding his arms behind his head, "I told you, she was downstairs and I didn't understand what she was doing there, then dad saw her and she burst into tears." a short pause before he resumed speaking in a lower voice, "I haven't heard her cry like that in a few years. She has to be holding it all in for so long."

Cal ran a hand over his face, puffing out his cheeks.

His phone screen lit up with a notification from Raina.

He opened the chat without even checking the last picture she had sent him:

'I'll text you later princess, something came up and I'm not really in the mood to send you pictures. Sorry.'

Her reply didn't even take ten seconds to appear, 'No, I'm sorry, I wouldn't have sent anything if I knew something was wrong. You need me to call you?'

Cal smiled slightly at the phone, 'Don't worry, you couldn't have known.'

The message that followed sounded more threatening than anything else, 'Okay, but you didn't answer my question, do you want me to call you? I can be there in five if I have to. Or you can come back here, you know I'm alone.'

As tempting as that invitation was, Cal shook his head, knowing full well that it held no double meaning, just genuine concern. 'It's Celia. She wasn't well last night and no one thought to warn me.'

'Oh, what happened?'

'Can I text you later? I have to take care of this now. It's nothing to worry about, just, I'll tell you later.'

'Alright.' Cal chuckled. It was just like seeing her, biting the inside of her lip, thinking of all the possibilities.

'Love you.'

He didn't wait for her reply and lay back down on the bed, putting himself in the same position as his brother.

"Do you think I was an asshole?" he asked at one point, looking up at the ceiling.

He heard Ezra moving around on the bed and when he turned around, his brother was lying on his side, his head resting on one arm. He looked so much like their mum. "She didn't really elaborate when she said you hate her-"

"Could you stop saying I hate her as if it were true?" interrupted Cal, frowning.

Ezra arched an eyebrow, "Sorry." then looked at him attentively, "I was saying, she didn't say anything in particular, so I wouldn't know. What did you do to sweep her off her feet like that?"

Cal looked at him with a slightly wide mouth, "For someone who says it's not my fault, it sure as hell looks like you don't believe it."

"I'm just fucking with you, though, she said you kicked her out of the room," then grimaced, "Actually, dad and I did that too, so don't worry if it's true."

Cal shook his head, amazed, looking up at the ceiling again, "We're all assholes then."

"What did you tell her?" asked Ezra again.

"I just told her I'd help her with her homework, I guess, and then I left," he replied.

"For?" Cal turned to him with an expression that said it all. Ezra scoffed, "You could have helped her five minutes, before you went off to fuck."

Cal flinched at those words, knowing full well how true they were, "You could have done the same. What were you and dad doing anyway?"

Ezra took a while to answer, "We were supposed to be fixing the bike, but we were actually playing darts."

"Busted." he muttered, "We should scold dad too then." joked Cal, trying to lighten the mood a little.

"I think he's regretted it enough already," the eldest said in a serious tone, "He barely touched his food at dinner yesterday and then went straight to bed."

"Maybe he was just tired," Cal assumed, trying to kill time before the inevitable.

"I don't think so, he pretty much spent all day staring at Celia like she might break at any moment." he ran a hand through his hair, mussing it, "Sometimes I wonder how they manage with five kids. It must be hard."

Cal frowned, looking at his brother, trying to figure out if he was just playing around or not. When he saw Ezra staring at the ceiling with a lost gaze, he realized that no, he was one hundred percent serious.

That he didn't realize the help he gave his parents? It was true, Ezra was only four years older than Cal, but there was no way he shouldn't be considered some sort of third parent. The eldest of the siblings had taken care of all of them from day zero and had never backed down from such duty.

Cal's eyes widened, deciding not to broach that subject that evening.

One thing at a time.

"Do you think you'll talk to her tonight?" asked Ezra, "I only ask because - even if you don't have to tonight - I think you should go say goodnight, tell her you love her before you go to sleep."

"Give me ten more minutes and then I'll go," Cal murmured.

"As long as you need."

***

"The other day when I went out with Iria and we met one of the boys in her class," Nora said with bright eyes, "he asked me to give him my number and I don't think I should tell mom."

Celia giggled, hiding her face against the duvet on her bed, "She'd definitely tell dad and at that point you'd be quicker to jump in front of a train on your own."

Nora burst out laughing, looking up at her from the upside down position she was in, "Iria said the same thing too."

"What's his name?"

Her sister's face lit up, "Zeke. I don't know his last name." then she cackled, "Maybe I should ask him."

"Is he cute?" asked Celia just as the door opened and Cal appeared.

"Who's cute?" asked their brother, just the instant Nora said, "Don't you know how to knock?"

"An actor." replied the younger one, as any sort of excitement vanished inside her.

She didn't want the strange bubble that had been created over the last few hours to burst. She had finally managed to convince Nora to spend some time with her as they hadn't done in months and she hadn't had that much fun in too long.

Cal shifted his gaze from Nora to her, keeping his eyes fixed in hers for a while before turning back to Nora, "You're not telling me the truth."

"Why are you here?" the older one asked, turning on her stomach and looking at her brother standing in the doorway.

Celia felt herself blush for some reason when Cal's eyes settled on her again and said, "Could you come with me for a moment?"

She arched an eyebrow, "Why?"

The boy seemed to hesitate for a few seconds, "I'd like to talk to you."

Nora yawned, not covering her mouth, "The two of us would be talking."

Cal turned to the older of the two of them, "Stop being so bossy."

"I wouldn't have to if you knocked before coming into our room and then claimed to steal Lia from me," Nora replied tensely.

Celia pulled herself up to her seat, rubbing her hands over her face as she tried to suppress a smile.

She knew they weren't really fighting, but they were bickering to win her attention, her time, and she'd be lying if she said it wasn't warming her heart.

"I-" stammered Cal, gesturing to Nora, "What- I'm not trying to steal Cece from you, I just want to talk to her for five minutes."

"What do you want Cal?" she asked trying to figure out what she needed to discuss at this time of the night.

Cal gave her an exasperated look, "Ezra told me what happened last night, I wanted to apologize."

Both she and Nora straightened up, but Celia was the only one who held her breath, blinking a couple of times, hoping to erase any trace of surprise from her expression.

Nora cleared her throat, sitting up, "I think I'll go brush my teeth." she said getting up.

Celia frowned, "You've done that before with-"

"Brush my teeth!" she repeated loudly, closing the bedroom door behind her.

Now only she and Cal stood in the room.

"Cal, you don't-"

He interrupted her before she could say anything else, crossing the room with two wide strides, "I want to apologize."

Celia looked at him, pulling herself up to sit cross-legged as he plopped down on Nora's bed in front of her. She nodded her head to tell him to continue, "You already said that."

"I know," Cal whispered. Then he shifted his gaze outside the window that separated the girls' beds, "I know."

Her eyes fell on his hands and she saw that he was torturing his ring she knew Raina had given him for their first anniversary. A nervous tic that characterised practically every adult in that house. Celia was just waiting for the day when Nora, too, was given a ring and she, too, would start twisting it between the index finger and thumb of her opposite hand.

They were silent for a few seconds and Celia was about to speak, make his task easier by telling him that everything was fine, that it had just been a particularly tiring day, but the words caught in her throat when he looked back at her and in the most serious tone of voice she had ever heard him use, he said, "You know you're my best friend right?"

Celia didn't know how to respond. She wasn't even sure if she was actually breathing. That's why she forced herself to get some air into her lungs. That strained breath must have sounded like a sob or a gasp, because Cal grimaced before resuming.

"I know it's not always like this Cece, but you're my best friend.

"I'm sorry for leaving you like that last night. I was an asshole and I shouldn't have acted like that. I have no excuse for ignoring you and then leaving for Raina's without helping you first, but I want to tell you something." he looked at her with such intensity that she didn't understand how he could speak. She nodded slowly.

"You will always be my sister. You will always be the person I love most in the world. You, Nora, Andra, Ezra." he swallowed noisily, "You are my life and I love you. Understand?"

Celia nodded with slightly wide eyes.

"We're growing up. These years won't be like the ones we had when we were younger, but that doesn't mean I don't love you as much as ever. That I hate you." he shuddered at those words, "Hell, Ce, I could never hate you. Not even if you did me the greatest wrong in the world.

"We'll go back to being close, as close as... as-" he grunted, throwing his hands to the sky, "Like two broad beans in a pod."

Celia chuckled, frowning, "What are you talking about?"

"I don't know, it's not important," he smiled. "What is important is that you understand that no one in this family hates you. No one could ever hate you."

The words were out before she could stop them, "It seems that way sometimes."

Cal contracted his jaw, "I know, I'm sorry," he said in a lower voice, "I can tell you something that will probably make you feel better."

"Alright."

"Ezra and I are essentially five years apart, and," he straightened, running a hand through his hair, "There was a time when I was a senior in middle school, just like you, and when he was a junior in high school at the same time."

"That must have been hard for you," Celia whispered.

Cal nodded, smiling at her reassuringly, "It was one of the worst times of my life, I think. I was sure Ezra wouldn't consider me a friend anymore, just a brother, because he's legally forced to be that, you know." they both chuckled, "But no, Ezra was just growing up and you get to a point where your interests are too different to keep getting involved in everything the other does.

"It definitely happened to Nora with me and it's going to happen to Andra with you," then, seeing the scared look on her face that one day she would make her little sister feel the way her older siblings were making her feel at that moment, he added, "But Cece, that's life. I'm not saying it's easy, but it's not your fault. It happens."

"It still hurts." she pointed out again.

Cal reached out to her, putting both hands on her shoulders, "I know, but I can assure you that the second you get old enough and mom and dad will let you hang out with Nora, you'll completely forget you ever felt that way."

"Was it like that for you and Ezra?"

He nodded, getting up to sit on her bed next to her, "It took me a little longer than it will take you, because of the bigger age gap, but yeah." he nodded, smiling at her, "When Ezra and I started 'playing together' again," he said mimicking the quotes with his fingers, "It was like all the years we were too far apart to actually have fun together faded away. It was like finding an old friend you thought you'd never see again." he put an arm around her shoulders, bringing her against his side, "That's why I'm telling you not to worry."

Celia closed her eyes, muttering, "You were still an asshole, though. And so was Nora. And a little bit Ezra too."

She felt Cal shake while chuckling, "Andra wasn't? At least she's safe."

"Oh, shut up," she said, breaking free from her brother's grasp.

Cal looked down at her, a smile all too similar to their father's on his lips, "I love you, Cece." he said under his breath.

She nodded, feeling her cheeks heat up, "I love you too."

Then Cal laughed, running a hand over his face to stop the giggles and avoid waking their parents.

"What's up?" asked Celia in an amused tone.

"God," Cal breathed, trying not to laugh, "I can't wait until you and Nora are old enough to drink. Ezra and I have to take you to see so many places."

Celia rested her hands on her knees. She still didn't understand all that drinking hype, but she was sure her brothers would give her unforgettable experiences.

Cal let himself fall backwards on the bed, covering his face with an arm, "I'm sorry for acting like that yesterday, I'll try to pay more attention to your needs or whatever you want." he murmured after the laughter was fully subsided.

Celia lay next to him on the mattress, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body, "It's nothing, I'm fine now."

"It's not nothing," Cal said, firmly, "The fact that you had to reach such a breaking point that you couldn't hold back the crying isn't nothing, don't even think that as a joke."

When she didn't answer, he took it as an invitation to continue.

"And I know dad already told you, but talk to us before you break down like that."

Celia swallowed, trying to chase away the tears, "I will." she finally whispered.

She heard Cal sigh, "Come here," before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her towards him. Celia closed her eyes, letting her older brother hold her, letting him give her the love they all said they felt for her.

Finally feeling the entirety of that weight being lifted from her shoulders, she fell asleep with Cal's voice promising her incredible adventures and memorable nights in a future Celia never imagined would be so close.

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nooneelsecomesclose17 · 3 years

Text

I’ll leave what I’m chasing - part 3

I’m not entirely happy with this but I think that’s my own issue with my writing. Next time: Sarah and Aaron try to make it all better.

(AO3 Link)

The bed is empty when Aaron wakes one morning, a few weeks later and for a second he panics that it had all been a dream, when he hears a noise from downstairs.

The past weeks have gone pretty well after Robert’s little breakdown, he and Seb had got to know each other again, having their own little part of the day, just the two of them, when Seb came home from nursery. Things with Ana hadn’t been quite so easy, she’d taken to crying when Robert picked her up and no matter how many times Aaron assured him she was just cranky his words fell on deaf ears. He was so stressed out about doing something wrong still that Aaron was sure she was picking up on it.

Checking the clock he’s shocked to see it’s half past nine, he can’t remember the last time he slept so late and he can’t help wondering how Robert had got on with the morning routine all by himself.

He’s still pulling on his t-shirt when he starts down the stairs, stopping when he hears Robert talking. He can just about see him, flitting about the kitchen like he always did, constantly turning to check on the little girl in the highchair at the table.

“Do you think Daddy will like pancakes, eh? I think he will. Don’t worry, I made one for you because you were such a good girl this morning when we took your brother to nursery. I know I haven’t been here but I promise from now on I’m going to be the best Daddy ever, aside from Daddy Aaron obviously.”

“Mornin’.”

“What are you doing up? We were going to bring you breakfast in bed.” Aaron gasps at Ana making her giggle. “Sit. This will have to do.”

“I reckon I’m in trouble. Morning sweetheart. So to what do I owe this honour?”

“Do I need a reason?” Robert presses a kiss to his lips as he sets a plate in front of him.

“S’pose not. How was Seb?”

“We had a slight crisis when he just had to take his bear to nursery and I couldn’t find it, but he was placated with his giraffe. I thought...well, you’re going back to work for a bit today aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” He mumbles around his pancakes ignoring the wrinkle of Robert’s nose at his manners. “Paperwork. I’ll only be an hour or two. Why?”

“I thought I might take her out for a bit, walk round the village, have lunch in the cafe.” Aaron looks up, startled.

Robert’s been reluctant to spend much time in the village since he came home, only the trips to nursery with Seb the exception. Aaron hasn’t minded, has enjoyed spending all their time together as well as glad he hasn’t had to run into any of his family.

“I can leave the paperwork if…”

“No. I meant just me and her. I can’t stay shut away in here all the time, and I can’t have you there to hold my hand either.”

“Ok. How’s about that sweetheart, a trip out with Daddy. Sound good?”

“Maybe we can go to the pub tonight. I’m sure Mum can babysit.” Aaron almost chokes on his breakfast. He’d hoped to avoid the inevitable conversation for a while longer, but obviously Robert had other ideas.

“Oh yeah. No, wait. She has book club on Thursdays. Another night yeah?” It wasn’t a lie, not really. Sarah did have her book club, but he also knew she’d drop it at a moment’s notice if they needed her.

“Sure.”

Thankfully no more is said about it and he leaves the house as Robert is trying to convince Ana that she doesn’t want to stay in her high chair all day. His mind isn’t on his work though, it’s on Robert. He has to tell him why they’re avoiding the family, everything that went on and he knows it’s going to hurt.

They might not have got off to the best start but he’d really thought when they got back together that his family had accepted Robert, and how much in love they were. The way they’d all helped with the wedding had seemed genuine enough but now he doubted it. The way they had all turned on Robert when he was sentenced had told him different. The worst thing had been his Mum, and Paddy getting into Liv’s ear and ruining the relationship she’d built with Robert over the years.

They haven’t spoken about prison or how Aaron coped either, both of them skirting round the issue every time they came close to mentioning it. That was something else that needed to change.

In the end he gives up and heads home needing time to work out how to broach the subjects Robert might not have wanted to be out and about in the village all that much but that would no doubt change, so they’d inevitably run into one of his family. He didn’t even know if they knew he was out. Liv did, or she’d known it would be soon and that’s when she’d decided to move to Dublin, still angry at Robert, probably fed up of being in the middle of everyone. He’s surprised he hasn’t heard from his Mum but he’s relieved.

“Aaron!” He stops, key in the lock as Sarah’s voice comes from up the drive. “I’ve been calling Robert but he’s not answering.”

“He’s taken Ana out for the day. He might be in the cafe. Here give me those bags. Did you leave any food in David’s?”

“Oh hush. I thought I could cook you and Robert dinner tonight. I can give book club a miss.” Aaron looks down at his feet. “What?”

“He wanted to go out, to the pub, ask you to have the kids. I begged off, telling him you weren’t free.”

“Love, he’s going to run into them sooner or later. Come on, put these bags in the flat for me, then you can make me a cup of tea.”

“How come I’m always making you a cup of tea?”

“Because you once told me mine tasted like the last puddle you stepped in if you remember.”

“I didn’t know you then!” He can remember going bright red when Robert introduced them. He’d taken Aaron to Whitby for the day not long after they’d got together and when they’d gone for a cup of tea in a cafe he hadn’t told him that it was run by his Mum. Aaron hadn’t spoken to him for the rest of the day as punishment and had been embarrassed about it ever since as Sarah could never resist bringing it up.

They’re still laughing as he puts the kettle on, jumping as the front door banged open and they’re greeted with Ana’s screams and Robert cursing under his breath.

“Rob? What’s happened?” Aaron reaches him first, hand on his arm as he releases the baby from her pushchair. Robert doesn’t answer, keeps fiddling with the buggy as if it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen. “Robert!”

“Saw your Mum in the cafe.” He’s jiggling Ana in his arms as he speaks, to no avail as she keeps crying and Aaron looks back at Sarah, eyes filled with worry.

“What did she say?”

“Nothing to me. But she had plenty to say to Brenda, whispering away like a pair of witches around a cauldron. They knew I could hear.”

“Here, give her to me.” He holds his arms out for her but Robert takes a step back.

“I can do it!”

“I never said you couldn’t. Just thought you might want to take your coat off.”

“Let me take her, love. I think the two of you need to talk.” He nods, not taking his eyes off Robert. Sarah takes Ana and her bag, pressing a kiss to Robert’s cheek as she goes, and then they’re alone.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on now?”

“First I’m going to make us both a cup of tea. Then, yeah I’ll tell you.”

He draws out making the drink as long as he can, ignores Robert’s irritated sighs, trying to get his head together, but then he can’t put it off any longer and sits himself down next to him, hands clasped round the mug, the warmth comforting him.

“So Mum didn’t say anything? Nothing at all.”

“No. Just gave me her death stare and went up to the counter. Then Ana started crying and I know what they were thinking, that I can’t cope with her. Maybe they’re right, she cries whenever I pick her up...”

“No they’re not. Besides, my mother is the last person to know what Ana’s like seeing as she’s never even met her.” That has the desired effect of stopping Robert in his tracks.

“You what?”

“I gave her a choice. So now you know why I’ve been putting off going to the pub.”

“But...you can’t just leave it there. This is because of me isn’t it? Not only did I mess up our lives now I’ve messed up you and your Mum too. I should never have come back.” He gets up before Aaron can stop him, storming into the kitchen, clinging to the kitchen worktops, breathing hard. “You’re all better off without me.”

“Oi.” He’s on his feet before he realises, pulling Robert round to face him. “Stop that right now. There’s no time or anywhere where I, or the kids better off without you. Never, you hear me?”

“But Aaron, your Mum…”

“My Mum, and the rest of ‘em made their choice just like I made mine both times I married you. I don’t need them. I do need you.”

“All I do is hurt you.”

“Yeah, you’ve hurt me, same as I’ve hurt you. But we’ve got through that, and we’ll get through this. You’re back...home, that’s all I care about.”

“But...I still don’t understand. How did...what happened?” Aaron sighs, knows Robert won’t let it go until he knows everything. He sits back on the sofa, managing to rearrange them so they were comfortable and Robert was right next to him, showing him how much he loved him as best he could.

“It started not long after you were sent down. Like I said before I might not have liked you cutting off contact, but I got why, but they didn’t. Mum went mental, said if you could do that then you obviously didn’t really care about me or Seb. She was in my ear every time I set foot in the pub. Paddy too, then they pulled Liv into it and I know part of it with her was her family being broken again and she was angry but I’d just had enough of it. They hated that I took no notice.”

“You didn’t ever think they might have a point?”

“No. I could cope with that, nothing I’d not heard before was it. It was…” He looks over at him, eyes shining with hurt and he can’t tell him. “Never mind. It’s done now.”

“Aaron, come on. Tell me. I’m sure your Mum will shout it at me at some point. I’d rather hear it from you.”

“You know we hadn’t told her Natalie was pregnant, we were waiting like you’re s’posed to. Well after the first scan, I wanted to tell you more than anything, that this tiny little speck on a screen was all ours and as I couldn’t.” He grabs Robert’s hand as he moves away slightly, guilt written all over his face. “As I couldn’t, the next best thing, or so I thought, was to share it with my family.”

“And?”

“Mum was fine at first, said all the right things, and I thought maybe the thought of another grandchild would mellow her, bring her round. Then all night, all she did was tell everyone ‘look at my son’s baby’ and how great a Dad I would be.”

“She’s right.”

“But she didn’t mean it like that. I knew what she was doing, blocking you out of Ana’s life. No mention of you. She’s ours, always has been.”

“Ok, but that’s not it, surely?”

“Next day I went round, told her that the baby was ours. She went off on one about you again, how I could do better, how I should get rid of you because you were in prison, that you were violent.”

“She thought I shouldn’t be around them? Aaron I’d never…”

“Don’t even finish that sentence. Don’t even think it. You don’t think I’d hurt them do you?”

“Of course not! Why would I?”

“I’ve been done for GBH, same as you, so by her logic...Anyway, I don’t think she even meant it, she was just saying anything to get me to do what she wanted. It didn’t even seem to register with her that whatever she was saying about you she was also saying about me.” He sniffs, brushes away a tear that has escaped. “I didn’t speak to her for weeks after that, only having Cain on my back made me try again.”

“And it was no better.”

“If anything it was worse. Paddy was there backing her up.”

“Well he’s never been a fan.”

“Idiot.”

“Still, surely you could see why she was so angry. I mean I had cut off her baby boy, leaving him to deal with having a baby.”

“Course, but that was before…listen, he didn’t hear anything, he was playing,” Robert’s eyes darken a little and he wishes he didn’t have to tell him. “I’d left Seb with Lydia, just for an hour. Mum was out so I said he’d be ok going with her to the pub. He was feeling poorly so I kept him off nursery but I’d arranged to meet your Mum at the station and I didn’t want to drag him there. Mum must’ve come home early, and we walked in to see him playing on the floor while the two of them were gossiping about you in front of him.”

“Gossiping how?”

“Katie, Rebecca, Paddy, ripping off Kim, Lee.”

“All my greatest hits. Wonderful.”

“He didn’t hear, I don’t think he would’ve even understood, but that was the last straw for me. If she couldn’t even keep her bile to herself while he was in the room then I didn’t want her anywhere near Ana. So I told her, she either accepted that you were my husband and promised not to speak about you like that anymore, in front of Seb or otherwise, or me and her were done and she wouldn’t get to know her granddaughter. Like I said she made her choice. The others fell into line like good Dingles. Except for Cain and Moira, they’ve been same as always.”

Robert doesn’t say anything, almost like he’s stunned, and Aaron can’t do anything except keep his arm around him.

“Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say, is there? I should’ve known they never really liked me. Wouldn’t have them pegged as good actors though, should give ‘em credit for that.” He jumps to his feet. “I’m going to lie down.”

“Rob…”

“I just want to be on my own Aaron.”

#robron fic

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kalimagik · 4 years

Text

Innocent

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Based on the song “Innocent” by Taylor Swift

Word Count: ~1700

Warning: death, saddness, I’m sorry...

A/N: I cannot be held responsible for the words that flowed through my fingers and onto the page. It’s sad and angsty and I’m really, really sorry. ANYWHOOOO...first Draco fic that I’m posting! If you enjoy reading, like, reblog, comment, or even follow! I’d love to hear from you all! Happy Reading <3

*Not my GIF - Credit to owner

The ink on his skin felt as though it burned when no one touched it. Even when it was covered up. Returning to Hogwarts seemed pointless for his 6th year. He was now a part of something bigger, why did he need to be at school for any reason besides fulfilling the Dark Lord’s wishes. Not to mention, facing his girlfriend at the time was not something he was looking forward to.

Knowing her, she would see the mark right away. How could he explain it to her?

Draco managed to avoid Y/N on the Hogwarts Express and he managed to avoid her during the welcome feast, but when she sought him out after, he had nowhere to hide.

“Draco! There you are, love! Where have you been?” she asked sweetly. Draco couldn’t meet her gaze. He instinctively pulled his sleeve further down his arm, but he wasn’t slick enough to hide it from her. “What are you doing?”

“It’s nothing. I’ve got to go,” Draco tried to brush her off. He walked towards the dungeons and to his dormitory where she couldn’t reach him. He felt awful, but he knew she’d be disappointed in him if she found out about his Dark Mark.

He was successful in avoiding her for a few weeks until she cornered him in the courtyard.

“Malfoy! What is wrong with you? I haven’t seen you in weeks!” Y/N demanded.

“I’m fine. Just busy with school work.” Once again, Draco tugged at the sleeve covering his left arm.

“School just started. Why do you keep doing that?” Y/N grabbed for his arm and before he could stop her, she pulled his sleeve up. Open mouth and wide eyes was all she could manage. She had no words for him.

Draco quickly pulled his sleeve back down. “I have to go,” he said abruptly.

“No. You don’t. I know you don’t have any classes right now. You need to talk to me!”

Draco couldn’t hold back from her any longer. Grabbing Y/N’s hand, he led her to the 6th floor boys bathroom.

“I can’t go in here, Draco! It’s the loo for the boys,” Y/N insisted.

“No one uses this one. Just come here so I can explain everything.”

Before the words could leave his mouth, the tears began to roll down his cheek. The pressure was already amounting. Katie Bell was still in St. Mungo’s and he hadn’t meant to hurt her.

Y/N was the first to speak. “I guess you really did it this time, huh? Left yourself in your warpath. Lost your balance on a tightrope. Lost your mind trying to get it back.”

“I had to, Y/N. He was threatening my family. He was threatening you. You don’t belong anywhere near this fight…it isn’t fair.”

“I can handle it.”

“You say that, but I can’t handle it. I- I think we need to take a break. We need to break-up. It’s the only way I can protect you.” The tears on Draco’s cheeks picked up in volume. Y/N could tell how genuine he was being and how he didn’t want to hurt her.

Taking a deep breath, Y/N changed the subject. “Wasn’t it easier when we were little? Wasn’t it easier in our lunchbox days? There was always a bigger bed to crawl into. Mum would hold you close and care for you. Draco, I remember when we were little so fondly. Wasn’t it beautiful when you believed in everything and everybody believed in you? We didn’t have to worry about an impending war then.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” Draco managed.

Y/N leaned towards Draco’s body, pressing her lips to his cheek. “It’s okay. I’ll wait for you…”

----------------

The year continued and Draco’s state became worse and worse. Y/N could hardly recognize him. He seemed distracted and paranoid. One evening, Y/N found him in that same 6th floor bathroom. The end of the year was nearing and Draco had a job to do. A job that Y/N knew nothing about.

“Hey, hey!” Y/N ran to him and pulled his head down to rest on her shoulder. She tried to soothe him with her words. “It’s alright, just wait and see. Your string of lights is still bright to me. Who you are is not where you’ve been. You’re still an innocent. You haven’t done anything you can’t come back from.”

Draco’s breakdown hurt Y/N more than he could know, but she knew she needed to be strong for him. He had a rough few years ahead of him.

----------------

When the war finished, Y/N was there waiting for Draco. He was pardoned for his affiliation with Voldemort and was free to continue his life. Soon after his pardon, he proposed and married Y/N as soon as he could. He was finally happy. The days were good, he had Y/N beside him.

Draco did some things he couldn’t speak of, but at night he’d live it all again. He wouldn’t be so shattered in his life now if only he had seen what he knew now then. Nevertheless, he would relive his past life in his nightmares.

He would awake with a start every single time. Sweat encasing him and heavy breathing that he could not control. But, without fail, Y/N would wake up and take his shaking body into her arms and whisper to him. “Wasn’t it easier in your firefly catching days? And everything out of reach, someone bigger brought down to you. Wasn’t it beautiful running wild until you fell asleep? Before the monsters caught up to you? I know it's a hard life, but it’s alright, just wait and see. Your string of lights is still bright to me. Who you are is not where you’ve been. You’re still an innocent.”

Y/N would hold him until he was able to fall back to sleep.

Starting a family and raising a son kept the couple busy, but that didn’t stop Draco from being influenced occasionally by those from his past. It didn’t stop him from hearing the sneers and comments made about him. They still stung.

Even at 31, almost 32, Draco was starting to teach his son how to ride a broom. He couldn’t even do that in peace without passersby whispering about him. They brought up the worst of him. The parts of him that he didn’t want his son to know about because he wanted his son to have a chance to make his own reputation.

Y/N could see his face harden with every single word, so she’d have to remind him how great everything was for them. She would have to remind him that they are still young. “Hey, Draco.” She would call his attention. “It’s okay, life is a tough crowd, 32 is still growing up now. Who you are is not what you did. Never forget that.”

Time turned the flames to embers. The family had some new Septembers. Scorpius started at Hogwarts and began to make his own place. As Draco saw all his old classmates for the first time in years, sending their kids off to school, Y/N reminded him that every one of them (including herself) has messed up too.

Life continued to change like the weather. Scorpius was enjoying school and starting to form his own life, away from his father’s reputation. Everything seemed to be going well, until Y/N got sick. Then life got hard for the Malfoys.

Draco sat with Y/N for hours on end. He didn’t want to go to work. He really didn’t want to go anywhere that would take him away from her. But, as much as Y/N held on, Draco knew she wouldn’t be able to forever. The end was coming soon.

“Draco?” Y/N choked out one evening when Scorpius was on break from school.

“What is it, love? Do you need something? I can do whatever you need me too. Scorpius, can you go get your mum some water please?”

Scorpius nodded and hurried out of the room.

“Draco, look at me.”

Draco brought Y/N’s hand to her cheek and she stroked her thumb across his skin. “Even after I’m gone…”

“Don’t talk like that. You’re going to make it.”

Y/N smiled softly, wishing that he could be right. “I hope you remember today is never too late to be brand new. Okay? You can be everything that our boy needs if you let yourself.”

“I can’t do this without you.” Draco felt his eyes begin to swell and water. “I don’t want you to go.”

There was that smile again. It seemed as though the hope it held was so misplaced, but it also seemed so full of peace. The tears began to fall. Draco wanted to be strong for her this time, but he couldn’t stop them from coming.

“Shhh. It’s alright, just wait and see.” Y/N started as she always did when he was upset. “Your string of lights is still bright to me. Who you are is not where you’ve been…You can do this.”

----------------

The sun shined and the birds sang. Draco knew that Y/N would have thought of today as a perfect day. The dreary English weather seemed to have let up just for her.

There was a beautiful turn out for her funeral and Narcissa had taken Scorpius back to the house when the crowd started to disperse. Only Draco remained at her grave. How could he be strong now?

A slight breeze blew past his figure, wrapping him up in a warm feeling.

“Hello, love. I don’t understand why you had to go. You were still an innocent. This shouldn’t have happened to you.” Draco wiped his nose on his sleeve. He felt as though he had lost his balance on a tightrope again. But then he thought of Y/N, he knew that it was never too late to get it back.

#draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy fic #draco malfoy fanfic #harry potter x reader #harry potter fanfic #harry potter fanfiction #hp #hp fandom #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #ron weasley x reader #ron weasley #golden era #heir of slytherin #new fic #kalimagik #happy reading #taylor swift song fic

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nostalgic-pancakes · 3 years

Text

Room 73- Chapter 4/8

Summary: D&D is planned, two characters get their very own breakdowns, Thomas reminisces, and Virgil has one good day

Pairings: (eventual) QPP’s Remus and Patton, Pre-Relationship prinxiety, sibling-y Virgil and Original Character, Creativitwins

Read on AO3

Word count: 3326

Warnings: Questionable parenting, period-typical homophobia, the foster system, semi-graphic (?) depictions of violent death, rage breakdown, nervous breakdown, minor arson.

Other notes: None!

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Logan quite frankly had no idea what Janus meant by ‘friendly hissing’. All hissing was a warning sign to potential prey, and wasn’t friendly in any incarnation! How could certain kinds of hissing be friendly? They all sound the same!

This was a level of insanity nearly topping Neil DeGrasse Tyson playing Merlin in the fucking Sharknado movies. But not really. That would top everything. Either way, Janus, someone who also hissed rather often (information citation being Patton) was likely the superior authority in tonal hissing. Logan’s a bit too sleep-deprived looking up resources for ghosts and surviving midterms to care too much.

Either way, the Dungeons and Dragons planning session was starting today. Everyone would be there at lunch this time and that meant that one, he would get to see his brother for the first time since homeroom (no common classes on Wednesdays was not ideal), and meeting with the rest of their newfound friends.

(Logan had never had anyone other than Virgil, and the rest seem to be alright. Janus knows, anyways, and he didn’t hate Logan for it, so it’s probably alright. He hopes it’s alright.)

“Lo-Lo!! Over here!” comes a friendly voice from his northeast. It’s Patton, who’s waving at him, glasses crooked, big smile. Logan fixes his glasses, and tries to smile back. It works, and even feels real.

Patton from up close certainly looks a bit tired, but he’s still happy enough, so Logan refrains from pointing it out.

When they reach the lunch table tentatively labeled as ‘theirs’, Virgil scoots over to let Logan slot between him and Roman, while Patton curls up next to Janus, relishing being with their siblings again, as much as friends are ‘neat’.

(Maybe he’s been getting back into Welcome to Night Vale. Maybe Amma cried and hugged him, calling it progress and Mom sat next to him and listened to her own show, the Magnus Archives and held him close. Maybe Virgil squeezed him tight and brought out the ‘What the Fuck is Happening in Night Vale’ board they’d made when they were twelve. He’d never tell)

Remus starts to hand out sheets of paper, asking everyone to draw their characters while he and Virgil work on plot, and it’s quiet in that little space of three pairs of siblings sketching out D&D characters, later talking about little things, big things and everything in between in the courtyard because the senior kids had exams and therefore none of them had last period. It was pleasant, and they’d all be paying their third ever group visit to Thomas later in the afternoon, too.

This was nice.

…

“Hey, Vi?” Hildi asked from behind him. They were sitting back-to-back, on her bed listening to a new album from All Time Low. The name didn’t matter too much yet.

“Yeah, Di?”

“Wanna do low level arson?” she asked, turning to face him and reclaiming her earbud. This was probably a terrible idea, but Hildi was the one person he wasn’t scared of acting out horrific ideas with. He smiles, and it’s reflected in Hildi’s eyes, dark green like the forest she lives in.

“Sure, why not?” he gets up, and Hildi turns around again for him to take his binder off and put on a sports bra, before putting his jumper (that Patton had given him for his birthday last week) back on, and patting his jean pockets for his phone. Once he knew everything was there, Hildi turned back to him, took his hand and led him outside. - “Okay, so how did you possibly, in any fucking timeline convince me to set fire to your old ‘Secret Diaries’ in the middle of the very flammable woods as if it was, at all, anything REMOTELY RESEMBLING a good idea?!”

“The power of friendship, Virge. Don’t fret, the damages are going to be well hidden in a week.”

“Oh my god but this is how forest fires start, were we crazy?!”

“Virgil calm down, nothing is more than slightly scorched, nothing is dead, and we caught every last ember! You’d know!”

“How would I know? Isn’t that more your department?”

“Spend enough time with a witch, and this is what happens. I regret nothing.”

“I regret so many things.”

“Sadness.” - “Hey, scaredy-bro, Love you.” Hildi whispers into the night, and Virgil remembers nights like this in middle school, when he started to realise that not everyone was as scared as him all the time, and he’d become more scared because everyone was watching, and laughing, and--

And Hildi had been there, a casual acquaintance from primary school becoming his best friend becoming his kind of sister because what other word is there (?), offering him trash earbuds that made the grunge music sound that much grungier, and holding him close on the nights Logan came home, unable to speak, covered in bruises, never letting Virgil tell their parents even though Logan was their twin and Virgil was so scared-- She caught him as he fell, and he hopes that she knows that he’ll forever be grateful for it.

“Love you too, you fucking danger noodle.”

Hildi chucks a throw pillow at him. It misses by at least three feet, falling off the shared bed. They both giggle, loud enough that Hildi’s mum ‘ssh’’s them from her own room, audible even with the closed door.

Three hours later, knowing full well that Virgil’s been on tumblr this whole time, Hildi whispers again.

“Hey, let’s look for Kelpies in the creek tomorrow”

This is an awful idea. But it has fewer environmental ramifications.

“Sure, why not. After December break?”

“Fuck yeah.”

They don’t last a lot longer after that.

…

Virgil wasn’t sure what he was expecting to find when he went to check on Roman, after it was ten minutes past final bell and he still hadn’t shown in the chemistry room after going back to pick up his papers.

Having a minor breakdown was not on that list, even though murder was. Virgil’s brain needed new priorities.

“Ro-Ro, Roman, what’s happening?”

“I-I can’t Virgil, I can't do it, please, I’m sorry” Virgil’s hands clenched tighter onto Roman’s shirt collar, knuckles white from the worry.

“You can't do what, Roman?” he asks, as gently as he can

“I-I’m so scared, Virgil. Mom’s not doing well, Dad’s doing the opposite of helping, and Remus and I don’t know what to do, Virgil. They keep f-fighting. The last time we tried to tell, it was by accident, and Mom had gotten so mad, and she’d said “If you keep talking about how Mom and Dad fight, then there won’t be a mom and dad’ and I can’t-- I can’t live without her, I can’t, Virgil!” Roman blubbers into his shirt, staining his hoodie and and pressing against his (currently unbound, but no big deal) chest, but Virgil literally could not give a shit about his hoodie right then, pulling him closer and cradling Roman’s head in the crook of his neck, one hand in his (fluffy, holy shit is this cotton?) hair, the other cradling his back. Roman smells like wood and some kind of flower.

“Have you told her any of this, Ro?” Virgil asks, and Romab lets out a bigger sob, burying himself into Virgil’s torso. Virgil knew that Roman’s parents weren’t on the best of terms right now, even though they kept trying to be good parents, but this? This was new.

“I c-can’t because-hic- She’ll get more upset, and she’s alsways so close to snapping and i can’t tell dad because he’ll get angry and I can’t tell Remus because he knows but he doesn’t, he doesn’t---fuck”

“Doesn’t?” prompts Virgil, softly into Roman’s hair, muffled by the soft chestnut curls.

“know, not same as I do, he doesn’t get sad, he gets mad, and he doesn’t want to become like dad but he stops talking and locks himself in rooms to not yell at people and I don- I don’t wanna make it worse.” he says softly, and Virgil starts stroking his hair, as a way to try and calm Roman down, trying not to cry a bit himself. He wishes, in a horrible way, that this was a panic attack. He doesn’t know what to do here.

“Could you find a way to maybe more quietly tell her to stay, perhaps?” asks Virgil again, even quieter this time. Roman more feels the words than he hears them, a soothing sort of humming.

“But it’s so selfish, isn’t it? That I think that? She deserves to be happy, and if being without us is happy, then she should, right? But I can’t do this with just my dad- he’s trying, but I can’t, help, please.”

And Virgil doesn’t know what to do, or what to say anymore. So he just holds Roman tighter in that very small corner in the 9-D classroom, and Roman clutches back until he’s cried it out entirely, and is ready to face everyone else. It’s been a few minutes, but they can clean up real quick.

Virgil takes out his spare hoodie and changes into it, Roman with his back turned in the boy’s bathroom, while Roman fixes his hair and washes the drying tear tracks off of his face, which were starting to feel like a mask on his face. He tries for a smile, and it’s small, but at least it’s real.

Virgil passes him a granola bar, and Roman hesitates for a second, before smiling again, taking it in hand and pocketing it. Roman offers his hand for Virgil to take, and he does, feeling the softness of Roman’s hands in comparison to his own, long and calloused with fidget rings on both hands. He squeezes.

Virgil looks up at Roman again, and they share a small smile, before walking out of the bathroom, hand in hand.

Wait- why are his hands glowing?

“Fuck you, Hildi.” he muttered under his breath.

“Huh, what?” Roman looked back at him, questioningly.

“Uh, nothing. Just thinking. ‘Cmon.” he smiles again, and he means it. With Roman, it feels like all his fears can be kept aside for another day.

…

“Oh my god, Remus, no you cannot make yourself a dwarven stripper this is a PG-13 D&D game oh my god--”

Remus looks up from the (probably very gory) conversation he’s having with Patton to reply to Virgil. “And why not? Minnie could be a stripper in the way back!”

“Just… no, thanks.”

“UUUUUGH, you’re no FUN, Virgey.”

“C’mon Bro, you could be… I dunno, a taxidermist?” Remus gets the manic glint back in his eye, snatching his sheet back from Virgil to add in the new information, scribbling frantically. His handwriting is already nigh impossible to read on a good day, so he’d better be able to read his own character sheet.

“Hey Thomas, what do you want to be?” asks Janus, undoing his loops to start a new string game, having finished his character profile- a Tiefling Wizard, about ten minutes ago while Logan became his work partner and roommate (Oh my god they were roommates), a human wizard. Virgil was the DM, therefore without a character other than an ominous voice with anxiety and a god complex at the same time, and Patton and Roman were both Elves, though Patton was an Artificer and Roman was a Bard.

Logan quickly jotted down Thomas’s responding morse code, chuckled, and read it aloud. “He says, and I quote: Can I be the thing that goes bump in the night? But also offer tea and biscuits to wayward travellers.”

Virgil smiles in Thomas’s vague direction, trying to make eye contact with the static. He fails, but Thomas thinks it’s quite nice of him to try.

“You’re too nice, T. I’ll write it down for you.”

You’re too nice

He was too nice to not let them get away with it, to stop them from killing him, to stop them from--

”Oi! You fruitcake, too nice to go running to your boyfriend, huh? Get a taste of this and see whether you’re nice enough to take it.”

He was. He didn’t object to the stuff in the bottle going down his throat, burning up his organs and destroying his body from the inside.

He didn’t have enough vocal chords left to scream, even as the other boy, final year, shook him as if trying to see whether he’s wake up, even as a hole formed in his throat, bleeding and burning and burning and burning--

It’s the last thing Thomas remembers.

“Thomas? Thomas? You’re making static-y noises again. You okay?” it’s Virgil, and it’s been nearly a hundred years and they’re dead and he’s dead and there’s nothing left of anyone he remembers but memories and he pushes aside his last memory, the worst one, to try and think of Valerie, his amazing sister who got to go to his school, sit in the same chemistry room once it was converted into a public school. Terrence, his family friend who came to his gravestone specially when segregation ended, and he could finally come and visit.

Everett, his boyfriend, who kept visiting, every day at four P.M on the dot until he was twenty and left town for college. It feels better to remember them as they were, in loose clothes playing in the woods, hide and seek and dolls and Valerie-the-Nurse and Everett-The-Soldier and Thomas-The-Film-Star and finding ways to get Terrence away to play with them too, as Terrence-The-Mechanic who could fix anything, even emotional problems as their Mom’s tittered and their fathers scowled but they didn’t matter because they were having fun.

He snaps out of it proper when Virgil manages to locate his hand, semi-visible ...

Patton’s pulling at his hair, not enough to fall out but enough to hurt, Sarcastrophe by Slipknot raging through his headphones and he knows that this is bad for his hearing, but at this point if it can drown out the absolute rage pounding in his mind, then going deaf is worth it.

He doesn’t even know why he’s mad. It’s just there and he’s screaming into his sleeves, tears caking on his face for moments before the anger arrives again and there’s a new layer of saltwater on top of it, endlessly endlessly going and he can’t stop it and why can’t it just stop--

There’s someone calling. It’s Remus. And Patton has to be happy and he thinks he might just implode with the… everything building up in him, but he has to do this so he picks up the phone.

“Hi Patty-Cakes!” The nickname makes him want to puke, even though he doesn like it, but he swallows the imaginary bile in his throat and replies.

“H-Hey, Remus.”

“Patton? You alright?” No, not at all he wants to scream and kick and cry but also freeze and never move again and his head hurts and there’s a pit in his stomach that won’t go away!

“YEAH! Uh, yeah. I’m good.” he sniffles, and he hopes Remus didn’t pick up on it. Judging by the silence on the other end, he probably did.

“Pat, please, tell me what’s wrong. I won’t say anything. Just let it out. It usually works for Roman and I, but just- see for yourself, okay?” Remus sounds a little concerned, a little desperate, and Patton thinks Remus can hear him trying to stifle his crying. He tries a little harder and all that comes out is one long moan with hitches for cries and the tears are drying, and Remus starts again, concerned, but Patton can’t hear, because the tears are catching up again and he’s screaming again and his fingernails have cut little red crescent moons into his cheek and it drips a little and Remus is still talking, soothingly and Patton latches onto that voice like it’s the only thing that could possibly carry him through this because it damn well feels like it.

He hears footsteps but not really, too focused on trying to regain control of his breathing, following Remus’s count.

When it's been a few minutes of following the count, and Patton’s breathing has evened out, he wipes off his face in his old faithful broom skirt, always ready for days like these, and he buries himself a little further into his hoodie, covering with it the phone on his ear.

“Patty--”

“No, not that, please.”

“Patton, Do you want to talk about it?”

Yes, actually, but he doesn’t really see the point, since nothing lasts for him. He’s a fucked up foster kid ™ style. Good things don’t happen to him. (Maybe to Janus. Janus deserves good things, good people, better than him--)

“Why wouldn’t this last? And you’re a foster kid?” fuck, he said that aloud? Well, rest in fucking pieces, brain to mouth filter.

“Yeah, f-foster kid here.”

“Janus too?”

“Yeah.” he whispers, throat too tired for anything else. He’s not ready for the universal ‘how’ question, but he’s not been prepared for any of this so far, so maybe he should just not bother.

“Okay. Do your foster parents show any signs of wanting to let you go?” no, not really. In fact, he’d seen Remy and Emile trying to quickly hide a sheaf of papers any time Patton or Janus entered a room, and Patton’s been pushing down the hope as much as possible, even as he sees Janus start to believe it eventually. Patton has to be ready for something to go wrong, he can’t afford to let down his guard, lest he can’t protect Janus anymore. He has to make sure nothing can faze him.

But he wants. He wants so, so badly that sometimes he lies in bed for hours, pushing down the want and trying his best not to cry, until it’s morning and he’s waking Janus up even though he could barely push himself out of bed. He says this to Remus, because he still wants. He wants to stay near Remus forever, recite oddly dark facts and binge-watch the Sharknado movies again while Logan and Janus screech in betrayal and huddle up close and he wants to have this. He wants this so badly.

“Pat, I didn’t know how to say it, but I want to be with you forever too. You like my weird facts, and you stay by me when I’m mad and I want to be there when you’re sad, Patton. I want this too.”

“R-really?”

“Of course, Patton. I don’t lie. Especially not to you.” Patton laughs, somewhat wetly, and Remus’s tone brightens when he hears it, and Patton can feel the smile on the other side of the line, manic-looking but inherently full of kindness, and everything feels a little more okay.

The hurt isn’t gone, but at least he isn’t forcing it down into his large intestine anymore.

“Thanks, Re. I-I’ll talk to Emile and Remy when they come home, okay? I’ll tell you what happened. See you in school tomorrow?”

“Course, Patton. Now I’m gonna go get something for Roman to eat before his stomach acids digest his entire body, eyes and all.”

Patton laughs. “Okay! Just don’t miss your therapy appointment, okay?”

“Never do. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The call finally cuts off, and the timer reads 37:19:73, and he probably spent a good chunk of that time having a breakdown, but strangely enough, Patton doesn’t feel super bad about it. The want is there, and he’s still not super sure about what to do with it, but he knows that he wants it to be real, and even if something does go wrong, he’ll still have Remus’s number.

The door swings open as Janus enters the house, and creaks closed downstairs, and Patton flops onto his bed, eyes still a little red, putting his phone on charge to take a nap. He’ll have emotionally charged conversation, but after this nap, thanks.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #ts logan #ts virgil #ts patton #prinxiety #intruality #tw foster system #tw homophobia #vee's writing #series: room 73

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ramblings-of-a-mad-cat · 3 years

Note

thank you for coming up with that ship name, it's so pretty <3 Anyway have a Faywood HC: Penny crushes on Aurelie in the early years before slowly realizing that Aurelie doesn't appreciate her (I agree with you she was so shallow) and realizing Luca lied about the trinket when Aurelie has no memory of giving it to her. But she's not mad ofc, she's touched <333

...I don’t know what inspired me to write this. I don’t even particularly ship Luca with Penny in general, but I guess you caught me in the right mood, and I’ve enjoyed our back n forth, and somehow this just came spilling out of my fingertips. I hope you enjoy -

Dear Jacob,

I’ve told you this before, no doubt, but I really dislike lying. Especially to friends. A first year could tell you as much, that it’s wrong to deceive the people you care about...and yet I’ve done it, time and again. I kept my misgivings about Rowan a secret and that led to us falling out for months. I had my reasons, and Rowan themself has even said they were understandable, but that fight was still my fault. But there have been other times as well. I lie to cover for Talbott and Chiara virtually any time I talk about them. And in those cases, I genuinely think I’m doing the right thing. That’s the trouble, lying sometimes feels like it would be the right thing to do, for the best outcome all around, so that's what I wind up doing.

It’s what I did to Penny, when her pen-friend visited from France. I lied, more than once, to protect her feelings. First by keeping my suspicions quiet, and second by giving her that ornament “from Aurelie” when it was not, in fact, from Aurelie at all. Well, it was from her...to me. But it should have gone to Penny if you ask me, so it did go to her...from “Aurelie.” and by that I mean me.

Of course, I was only a second year at the time and I didn’t really think it through. Didn’t have a contingency plan for getting caught in the lie, and I probably should have thought of that. For all I knew, Penny could have immediately written to her pen-friend to thank her. But it never came back to haunt me like lying to Rowan did, so with time, I mostly forgot about it. Until tonight.

I’m pacing around the Hufflepuff Basement, looking for a certain Mitten who is not yet awake for her breakfast. With term having ended and the winter holiday begun, most of our friends have left school. Most of us. Rowan’s sticking around and we’re making up for lost time, (not like Mum wants to see me anyway, apparently…) and Penny’s parents would have to drag her home in chains - she’s not about to leave Beatrice stranded for Christmas. So there aren’t too many people to ask about my cat’s whereabouts.

Just as I’m thinking about leaving to search for her by the dungeons, in case she’s seeing Bitten, I hear a familiar “Mrooow…” from within the girl’s dormitory. Door isn’t shut, so I peer inside to see Mitten on the floor, rolling around with whatever stray object she has claimed ownership of this time. It’s blue and looks far too fragile for her to be batting it around, but that’s Mitten. In another moment, I blink and recognize it - Penny’s ornament.

I’m about to step inside and extract the makeshift “toy” from Mitten’s hold, when I see that Penny is already there, sitting on her bed and watching the show. Okay, well, that’s good - at least playtime has permission this time. I still owe Diego a new Ballycastle Bats poster...and to this day, I have no idea how Mitten knocked it down from the wall to convert into a scratching post.

“Hope you’ve worked up an appetite.” I call out to Mitten gently, holding up her breakfast bowl and waving it slowly. Mitten looks up, and I swear her eyes dilate before she dashes over to circle me, mrowing up a storm. “Okay, okay, right here…” I lead her away from the ornament, setting the bowl down and rewarding her with head rubs as she chows down, before glancing back up at Penny. “Thanks for that.” I really owe her one for her patience.

Penny stares back at me with an odd, misty look in her eyes. She doesn’t say anything at first, and I don’t press her too. These haven’t exactly been easy times for her, Jacob. For the past two weeks, someone - usually me or Tonks - has to gently tug her away from Bea’s portrait so that she doesn’t sleep there. It’s no exaggeration to say that she’s a wreck. Still, she’s been brewing a calming draught to help quell her nerves, and when she takes it, that does seem to help. I can’t tell if she took some last night or not (I camped with Rowan) so I slowly approach, keeping an eye on her. “Did you sleep okay?”

Penny doesn’t answer, and I feel fear rising in my heart that she may have had another nightmare. Like most things, they aren’t as bad when she takes the calming potion, but they still happen from time to time. Yet when I study Penny’s face, she doesn’t look upset. Emotional, maybe, but...not upset. Sitting down next to her I notice she’s holding something in her hands - a letter, by the looks of it. With very fancy handwriting. Penny has lovely handwriting, nothing like your wild chicken scratch, but she didn’t write this. She must have received it. Trying not to pry, I keep my face level with hers, before she folds up the letter and sets it aside.

“You know, three years ago.” She speaks softly, and turns to look at me. “You told me that the blue ornament was a gift from Aurelie.” I feel my heart skip a beat. An old lie resurfacing, one I haven’t thought about in ages, and now I’m caught with no excuses. Yet Penny, predictably, doesn’t appear to be angry with me. She doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. “But we’ve been trading letters, and she asked about you. Asked if you ever wear the robes she got you, or if you kept the trinket she gave you.” I...have never worn those robes in my life, I’ve only just realized. Not even sure where they are. But never mind that, Penny’s frown is a gentle one. “Why did you tell me it was for me?”

I bite my lip, feeling the back of my neck heat up and I’m not sure why. But no, it’s time to come clean. “Because...because it should have been.” Maybe I’ve matured, maybe things are just coming together, but my fifth year has really led to a lot of conversations that should have happened ages ago. Making up with Rowan, making up with Jae...Tulip and Merula finally made up this year, in a sense...and now there’s this. “I’m sorry Penny, I guess I just didn’t want to spoil anything for you. But I…” Slowly rubbing the back of my neck, why is my skin prickling so much? “I feel like Aurelie should have gotten something for you, not me. You’re the one she’s closer to, and you were the one she lied to, back then…” I hesitate from going any further. Whatever my feelings, I’m not going to bash someone she cares about.

Penny is looking down, her hair falling in her face. Jacob, have I ever mentioned that she has the most intense case of bedhead that any human being has ever had before? We both agree Tonks’ would be worse if her hair was actually long, but it’s not, and Penny’s practically hidden by a straw nest by now. Which is why...damn, I’m not sure what makes me do it, but it’s not like we’ve never been affectionate before. Still, I don’t know why I decide to start pushing her hair out of her face, but that’s what I do.

Looking at me, she shakes her head, taking my hands. “No no, I’m not upset with you Luca. I just didn’t understand.” For the first time, she laughs a little. That is a good sign - she’s definitely still medicating with the calming draught. “Thought I may have just badly needed some morning tea. No, I...appreciate it. A lot, actually.” Her eyes meet mine, and I don’t let go of her hands. “Aurelie and I haven’t been writing to each other as often these days, though that’s at least partially my fault. I haven’t had the energy to write to anyone these days.”

“That isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault.” I try to comfort her, but it’s never easy. There’s nothing that can be said to fix her situation, no spell to be cast. We simply have to break the curse - but we’ve done it before, and we’ll do it again. “You’re doing your best, and whatever that is right now, it’s enough.” I promise her. The room falls silent, except for the soft sounds of Mitten munching on her breakfast nearby.

Penny shuts her eyes for a second and takes a deep breath. “I hope that’s true. It’s taken me awhile to realize it but, even when I give everything I have, people don’t always give the same amount back.” My stomach twists slightly. If she’s talking about Aurelie, I’m hesitant to agree even now, though of course I do...maybe I just need to listen and let her get this off her chest. I’m not sure. “I know that no one is required to give any amount of effort, but sometimes you-you’re led to believe they will, or that they want to, and...oh, I don’t know. Maybe she and I are simply growing apart. Maybe we’ve grown into different people. I’m certainly not the same.”

“No, you’re wiser than you used to be,” I respond softly, squeezing her hands. “You’ve seen more of the world and not all of it is nice, but you still see the nice things. You ARE one of the nice things. Now, I haven’t talked to Aurelie in years, so, it’s probably not fair for me to make judgements, but...if she’s taking you for granted, she definitely hasn’t grown any wiser.” I had to hold myself back from saying that she was “still” taking Penny for granted, but it’s true.

Penny sniffs. I don’t think she’s going to cry, but she’s usually closer to breakdowns than even I am these days. Bowing her head, she lets our foreheads nudge together and with no real rhyme or reason, we just stay like that for a while, still with our hands clasped. “Thanks Luca…” She finally whispers, sniffling again before sitting up more. Lifting her arms, I feel her cup my face, feel lips brush my forehead. After another moment’s pause, she sighs. “I need to start getting ready for my day, or I’ll lose my mind...am I keeping you from anything, or can you stay…?”

I nod, knowing full well that Penny’s morning schedule lasts an hour at least. “I’ll be here.”

Love, Luca

#Luca Fawley #Penny Haywood #Faywood #HPHM Fanfiction #HPHM Fanfic #Penny Haywood x Jacob's Sibling #Penny Haywood x Luca Fawley

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izzy-b-hands · 3 years

Text

Assembled Here The Volunteers

Set in 1985. A birthday present for one of Brian's kids has him a broken man (because it comes broken into at least fifty pieces that need to be put together, by him, and said pieces refuse to let him do that.) But he has a team of helpers, at least! They won't necessarily make things better per se, but if the present still gets built, isn't it still a victory?

TW for what took me out midway through writing this and what I didn’t realize I was writing about until it hit me hard: emotional immaturity in parents and the realization and apologizing for that from said parent, due to the accidental harm it’s caused a child. I may have had a minor breakdown while writing this as a result, and that might show. But I hope folks will enjoy it regardless.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

"If you can put it together, I'll fucking pay you," Brian muttered, gesturing to the play house. "Barely even fits in the fucking yard."

"Breathe," Roger instructed with a smile. "It's one play house, versus four dads."

"Four?"

"Freddie's a dad to his cats," Roger explained, and Brian nodded sagely. "So this can't beat us?"

"Not all of us together," Roger replied. "Tell the kids not to cry, we will have this together within the hour!"

---

"Thanks for stopping by," Freddie said to what felt like the fortieth guest. For a kid's party, it seemed like entirely too many people; he couldn't have imagined having that many people at a party for himself at that age.

"Are they alright?" One of the mums asked gently, gesturing to the corner of the yard.John was fussing with the instructions booklet, Roger was kicking at a piece of the play house, and Brian had taken a break to lay facedown in the grass.

"In a manner of speaking," Freddie replied. "It'll be fine."

She nodded hesitantly as she ushered her child away.

"Daddy looks sad," Louisa tugged at Freddie's shirt. She looked sad too, as it happened, and he couldn't blame her. It wasn't a great fourth birthday, to have your mum and older brother off visiting relatives during it, unable to make it back in time, and then to watch your dad have a minor breakdown over a play house.

"He's not sad," Freddie lied, picking Louisa up as the last few guests left the yard. "He's just tired."

Brian chose that moment to let out an aggravated, weak shout as he sat back up, and Freddie winced as Louisa immediately fell against his shoulder in tears.

"None of that on your birthday," Freddie said softly, walking away from the increasingly loud grumbling from his overly frustrated bandmates. "They'll have that put together soon enough, and things will be better."

"I can help," she offered miserably, and wriggled out of his arms, racing back towards the scene at the barely-put-together play house.

"I don't know about that," Freddie sighed, but followed after her.

She had a piece of it in her hands, nearly as big as she was, and was trying to hand it to Roger. "It's a wall!"

"We know sweetheart, but the wall doesn't want to stay where we put it," Roger said, only half paying attention to her as he fussed with what looked like roof tiling.

"Because you need the floor!" Louisa cried, sounding not unlike her father in tone and level of frustration. She slapped at Brian's leg until he moved away from the pile of pieces, and started to grab and lock parts together as best she could.

"No," Brian laughed. "It's not that simple."

"Looks like it might be," Freddie nodded towards Louisa's progress. "Sure we weren't overthinking it a little?"

"It's a house, you can't overthink how to put together a house," John scoffed.

"Give it!" Louisa grumbled, yanking the small hammer that had come with the kit out of John's hands.

"Ask nicely," Brian scolded.

"Give it, please," she repeated sarcastically, and Brian's scolding turned to the three of them as they giggled.

"Don't encourage her," Brian mumbled.

"From what, going into construction?" Roger asked. "Of course we should encourage that, she's clearly got a mind for it."

"Move please," Louisa tapped at Roger's leg as she retrieved more pieces from where they sat at his feet. The house had a floor, and a wall, and she was only ten minutes into her attempt at constructing it.

"You want help?" Roger asked her gently.

"Are you gonna really help?" she spat back, and there was no hiding their laughter at that.

"I have been pretty useless at this, haven't I?" Roger giggled. "How about you tell me what to do?"

Louisa rolled her eyes, but handed him a piece. "See the wall? Put this on it."

"Your daughter now thinks I'm the biggest moron to walk this Earth," Roger smiled.

"No,"Louisa protested. "You all did a bad job."

"No beating around the bush, hm?" John tutted. "We should bring her in the studio. Can't go wrong with a little 'this is good or this is shit' meter."

"Hold this," Louisa instructed John, as she started to layer parts of the plastic roof tiles together, starting with the one he was holding. "Freddie!"

He strode over, eager to see how she might call him into service.

"Can I have a snack?" she asked sweetly.

"Why are you asking him and not me?" Brian laughed. "Dad is the one here who can say yes or no to snacks!"

Louisa gave him a look, then turned back to Freddie expectantly.

"Think you've been demoted," Freddie giggled to Brian. "Sorry about that, but it's out of my hands."

"She's four!"

"And the foreman of this site, and it's her birthday as well," Freddie said. "I don't know who else I'm supposed to listen to, if not her."

"Please?" Louisa yanked at his shirt. "Birthday cake?"

"It's your cake, of course you can have more!"

"That's so much sugar," Brian hissed. "She'll never sleep!"

"She's been working hard on this, sure she'll sleep," Freddie said as he started towards the house for her cake. "Won't you, Louisa?"

She shrugged and giggled and looked back to John. "The roof is done! Put it on!"

"Oh goodness, sorry," John laughed. "I'm going to get myself fired."

"I finished the walls at least," Roger noted. "That should have been your cue, I think."

"Well you could have said you'd finished them!"

"You have eyes, don't you?"

"No shouting!" Louisa shouted as she took the offered plate of cake from Freddie. "Thank you."

"You're welcome; this is the best," Freddie smirked. "Your dad-"

"Has given up, because I have completely lost control of this," Brian interrupted, flopping back onto the lawn.

Louisa frowned, handed Freddie the plate back, and rushed over to Brian. "Get up!"

"The house is done," John offered. "You could go in it now."

“You go in it!” Louisa shouted. “Daddy’s sad!”

John shrugged, and crawled into the playhouse, banging his hip on the plastic door. “It’s nice!”

Louisa wasn’t paying attention though. She’d flopped onto Brian’s chest, wrapping her arms around him. “Don’t be sad anymore; I fixed it!”

John crawled back out of the house into the tense silence, and they watched as Brian slowly sat up, with Louisa in his arms.

“What do you mean?”

“The house made you sad, so I fixed it,” Louisa whined. “You’re still sad; you aren’t supposed to be sad anymore!”

“You...” Brian hesitated. “You know you don’t have to worry about whether I’m sad or not, right?”

“Yes I do!” she protested.

“No,” Brian shook his head. “You don’t. Only I have to worry about that. You worry about playing and having fun...and your cake, remember?”

Freddie held up the plate, but she didn’t so much as turn her head.

“You and Mummy are always sad,” Louisa mumbled. “I wanted to help. I’m a good helper, you said that!”

“Oh boy,” Roger hissed under his breath. “Brian, shall John and I go in and clean things up for you?”

“Sure,” Brian nodded, but tears glittered at the corners of his eyes. “Thanks.”

“I’ll go-” Freddie started.

“No,” Louisa interrupted. “Stay.”

“But...” Freddie stammered. “Okay, fine. I don’t know why, but fine.”

“You make Daddy happy,” Louisa said, in a tone that suggested he had to be an idiot not to realize that.

“Okay,” Brian sighed. “I owe you an apology, sweetheart.”

“Why?”

“Because you shouldn’t ever have had to feel like this,” Brian continued. “It isn’t your job to worry about me and Mum, no matter how we’re feeling.”

“But-”

“Oh, she’s so much like you,” Freddie murmured.

“Yeah,” Brian sighed. “Yeah, she is. I get it, sweetheart, I do. You’ve been feeling like you should be able to help make us happy again, right?”

Louisa nodded.

“And if you can’t do that, then it must be your fault?” Brian’s voice finally cracked, and the tears fell faster than he could wipe them away.

She nodded again, sniffling herself.

“I don’t know how you got that into your head, but I want you to know,” Brian said. “It’s never your fault. Not ever. Grown ups get sad for so many reasons, so many stupid reasons. But none of that is your fault, and it isn’t your fault if we seem sad a lot. It’s just stupid grown up things, I promise.”

Freddie watched tentatively; he could see the wheels turning in her head. It was like watching Brian mull something over, in miniature, right down to the wrinkled forehead.

“My present didn’t make you sad?”

“No!” Brian laughed. “No, I was sad because I couldn’t figure it out, but the present itself didn’t make me sad. I’m happy you have it, I just felt silly I was having trouble with it. And that was sillier still, because look! We got help, and we didn’t even need it! You figured most of it out yourself.”

“My birthday didn’t make you sad?”

“No,” Brian hugged her tightly. “Your birthday could never make me sad. Nothing about you could make me sad, my being sad or upset isn’t your fault or your job to help me with. And I should have seen that and realized how you were feeling, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Louisa pressed a kiss to his cheek, and for a moment, Freddie could feel the tension slip.

“It isn’t,” Brian said, and the tension filled the air again, but blessedly only for a moment. “But I’m going to make sure it doesn’t happen again, okay? I’m going to be more careful, so you don’t ever have to feel like you need to look after me like that. I’m your dad; I’m supposed to look after you, not the other way around! So you let me look after you, no matter how I’m feeling, and if you ever feel like this again, you tell me straight away.”

She nodded, but hesitantly.

“He means it,” Freddie offered. “That’s what dads are supposed to do. Look after you, and apologize if they mess up.”

He swallowed down his own feelings, that hit like a train. There wasn’t time for those, however. Not right now.

“Okay,” Louisa smiled and wrapped Brian in a tight hug, and the tension finally dissipated completely.

“I think,” Brian stood up with a groan, hanging on to Louisa as he moved. “We should go in, and you finish your piece of cake while we finish cleaning up. “

“I can help,” Louisa said softly.

“After your cake, and only if there’s anything left to clean up,” Brian said. “But thank you for offering.”

“Meet us inside?” Brian asked as he took the plate from Freddie.

“Yeah,” Freddie nodded. “There’s tools all over the grass yet. I’ll get those and bring them in.”

The look they shared let him know Brian understood. He needed the moment alone.

“What a fucking mess,” Freddie tutted as he wrangled tools from the lawn. “And all your fault, you know that?”

The play house, being a play house, said nothing in reply.

“And yet, it was a good thing,” Freddie continued. “What a fucking party.”

The play house stood silent, except for a lone roof tile that slid off.

He replaced the tile, and headed inside. The night wasn’t quite over yet.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic

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ilovefanfics2019 · 4 years

Text

Her own path

Part 2: A caring mother figure

Warnings: Some angst. Mentions of torture. Mentions of abuse. Mention of injuries. Mention of blood, cuts and bruises. Fluff between reader and mum Kurogiri.

Characters: Shigaraki, Reader, mum Kurogiri and a mention of Toga and Dabi

Description: After another training/torture session the reader gets some TLC from mum Kurogiri.

Also: Y/n = your name, f/c = favourite colour and sf/c = second favourite colour.

Side notes: Reader doesn't like to acknowledge Shigaraki as her father so she doesn't call him dad or father a lot.

I hope you enjoy this part I worked hard on it 🥰

Deep in the league of villains base screams and crys of pain rang out echoing around the barren empty halls. The scream and cries coming from young Y/n Shigaraki being tortured for failing to follow orders given to her in another training session. The one doing the torturing is none other than her father Tomura Shigaraki even though the young girl will never class him as that.

Y/n's pov

Pain ran though my body after another punch was thrown to my side and followed by a series of more punches and kicks. This continued on untill my abuser had enough and I sank down to the floor laying on my back struggling to get my breath back after being punched and kicked multiple times. The cold flooring feeling nice against my bear arms as I welcomed the silence in the room. But that silence was soon broken by a voice. A voice that I hated and dreaded hearing everyday of my life from the age of 4.

"I really thought you learnt your lesson after last time but I guess not" a male voice rang out somewhere to the left of me. Footstep drawing closer to me.

"I can't believe you still disobeyed me during your training" the voice sounding closer. Untill the face of said voice appeared above mine staring down at me.

"You lucky we need you alive for the plan or eles I would of killed you along time ago" he said with a cold look. I sat up and stared directly at the wall in front of me refusing to look at him waiting for him to asked the same questions he always asked after torturing me.

"Why do you refuse? Your going to have to given in eventually you have nowhere else to go and your never leaving us" the voice stated.

"I refuse because I don't want to be like" I turned my body to face him and raised my eyes to meet his to emphasize on the last word "you" I sneered out meeting my green eyes with his red ones but it doesn't faze him but I continued to answer his last statement whilst slowing rising up from the floor.

"You know I could always go to the heros and tell them everything like how you kidnapped me. Killed my mother who was a pro hero. How you abuse and torture me. And how you plan to use me for your sick evil plan" fully standing my voice getting louder after each point I pointed out untill the last word rang out and echoed around the room. After the echo died out and faster than I could blink the male held me up by my throat with his pinkys held away not touching my skin. His red eyes stared down into mine as he chuckled out.

"Like they would help you after all why would they believe you a 11 year old who looks small and weak" I glared at him for mention my very small appearance. But he ignored it and continued on.

"Do you know why they also wouldn't believe you?" He asked then answered by himself.

"Your no more than a pune little villain and after all" he sneered out pausing. Bring his mouth up to my ear he continued.

"Being a villain is in your blood so no matter how much you try and refuse your future is already sealed which is to kill All Might and become the villain you are ment to be" he silently chuckled out. His face drawing away from my ear to lock his eyes with my wide ones. Dropping me to the floor as I winced in pain whilst trying not to cry. He walks to the door whilst putting on his special gloves so he doesn't disintegrate the door handle, as he puts his hand on the handle he turns to face me.

"Return to your room and stay there for the rest of the night" his cold voice says then he faces back to the door opening it and walks out closing the door behind him. As soon as I hear his footsteps disappear down the hall I breakdown bursting into tears I've been holding in. Tears from being in pain, tears from things he said and tears from not being able to do anything about this. I used to hate my father before but now after everything he had just said to me I hate him even more and I wish I could disappear and just be back in the arms of my loving mother which is impossible thanks to the devil himself. My father.

After composing myself and drying my remaining tears and throwing on my jacket that had been discarded before all of the torturing had began I returned to my room even if you could call it that. The room itself it's not that very big but big enough for a single bed, a small desk with a chair and a small nightstand. As soon as you walking into my so called room through the door the first thing you see is my small desk which has a small plant on it along with some art supplies that Kurogiri gave me for 5th birthday so that I wouldn't be bored and a chair with a pillow on the seat which Dabi and Toga got me. To the left of my desk is my nightstand which has a small lamp on it along with a pile of books which Kurogiri also gave me on one of my birthdays. To the left of my nightstand is my single bed which is pushed up to the far side of the left wall. Then on the right side of the room is a door that leads to a small basic bathroom.

I closed the door behind me and went over to my bed and collapsed onto it with my face buried deep into the pillows not caring if I got blood on it. A small gentle knock came from my door. My door then opened and closed I already knew who it was so I didn't bother look up. Footsteps came towards my bed then the person sat down on my bed rubbing small comforting circles on my back.

"He gave you a hard time again" the voice of a male spoke gently. I turned my head to face him as I gave him a glance with a look of 'what do you think' as his yellow eyes looking into mine. He let out a small sigh as he then ask what he always asked me after coming to check up on me after my training/torture sessions.

"How badly are you hurt this time?" He asked sadly. I just turned my head back into the pillows refusing to answer his question. He sighed a long sigh before speaking again.

"Y/n please show me" he ask the tone of desperation clearly evidence in his voice. I let out a small sigh turning and sat up to face him on my bed. At seeing my face his yellow eyes seems to give a look of shocked. The mist man looking shocked continue to sit there patiently waiting for me to make a move to show him any hidden injuries that were hidden by my clothing. Slowly I took of my jacket to reveal my bare arms then a small gasp was heard from the mist man. Many more gasp from the mist man soon followed as I rolled up my f/c tracksuit bottoms and as I took my sf/c vest top off leaving me in my black sports bra a large gasp left the mist man.

"Y/n" he said quietly his eyes seem to have a soft look whilst looking over my form.

"Come on let's get you cleaned up so we can patch you up" he said gently with a caring tone. We move to the bathroom and whilst he was running me a bath I took a look at my form in the mirror attached to the back of the bathroom door only to let out a small inaudible gasp shocked by my own appearance.

My legs had dried blood running down them mostly likely from the cuts I got when Shigaraki had thrown knives at me in an attempt to get me to use my Decay quirk. My arm had bruises that already had started to form along with small cuts that were still bleeding a bit. My face was littered with small cuts and dried blood coming down from a cut that was just under my bottom lip. My right side had an enormous bruise that had already formed and ran from under my arm to my hip. My hair was a mess stick up in all directions with dried blood and grime decorating it. I then turned and headed towards the bath when the mist man told me it was ready.

He left to go and wash my clothes whilst I washed myself gently and carefully and made sure to shampoo and condition my hair. Once done cleaning myself I climbed out of the now bloody bath water, drained it and wrap a towel around myself. After drying myself and my hair I then put on some clean panties and bra and I slowly exited the bathroom to see the mist man sitting crisscrossed on my bed that had new, fresh and clean sheets on with a med kit and hairbrush on my nightstand ready to use.

I sat down on the bed in front of the mist man facing him as he attended to my leg wounds first taking great care when doing so. Once done with my legs he gave me some long f/c pj bottoms to put on and then started on my arm mostly just put some cooling gel over the bruises then doing same to the big bruise on my right side. He then asked me to turn around, with my back now facing him he lifted my long hair over my shoulders so he could see my back. He let out a loud gasp making me ask him.

"What's wrong?". But he didn't replie. So I got up from my bed and went to the bathroom to look at my back in the mirror. My eyes widen seeing why his reaction was what it was. I had a huge deep gash on my back that went diagonally down from the bottom of my left shoulder and stopped above my right hip. I left the bathroom with the look of shocked still plastered on my face as I sat down with my back facing the equally shocked misty male.

"I'm going to have to stich it" the misty male said gently and carefully trying to gage my reaction. I gave him a small nod as permission to do so. He stitched it up whilst talking to me to keep my mind of the pain then once he was finished he wrapped it up with a bandage. He then gave me my long sleeve f/c top to put on then started to brush out my long light blue pinked streaked hair before tying it into two pigtails. He then stayed to talk to me whilst I ate the buttered toast and drank the hot chocolate he had made me.

Third pesron pov

After chatting some more and giving the young girl some medication to ease the pain he tucked her into bed with a cuddle and a somewhat form of something that classed as a kiss from him to her forehead.

"Thanks for your help again Kurogiri" Y/n said sweetly to him.

"Its okay I take great pride in caring for you" he replied caringly.

"Goodnight Kurogiri" the young girl yawned. Kurogiri lets out a quiet chuckle.

"Goodnight Y/n" Kurogiri said quietly and gently before making his way to the door. Before closing the door the male with a sad and gentle look glanced back at the young girl who was settling down for the night before letting out a small inaudible sigh before closing the door and leaning back on it before saying to himself.

"One day I hope she get the chance to get away from here so she can change her life for the better and become someone who she want to be" before letting go of the door handle and continuing to say.

"But untill that day I will still care for her as I love her like she was my own daughter" Kurogiri exhaled a small breath before retreating down the hall to his own room. Whilst the young girl in question was snuggled up with her blanket in hand given to her by her new mother like figure preparing for the long night of nightmares ahead she too wishing she had a better chance of life.

But little do both of them know their wish would soon become true. In the form of a bunch of teenage trainee heros, a loud mouth of a teacher, a very tired caterpillar teacher, a tired looking indigo haired boy and a small one horned girl who may just become the young girls new friends and family after a evil plan gone wrong.

#bnha fanfiction #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #my hero academia #mha shigaraki #mha x reader #mha fanfiction #mha #mha kurogiri #mha league of villains #bnha shigaraki #bnha kurogiri #Dad Shigaraki #Mum Kurogiri #Dadigaraki #Mumrogiri #league of villains #child reader

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 2: Chapter 2

Harry’s Birthday & Wedding Planning: February 2016

Word count: 2.4k

PART 1

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

Following her breakdown in the studio, Steve and Tony both accompanied Aurora to the hospital to get her hand x-rayed the next day. It turned out she had split open the most recent incision but given the fact that she would be back the following week for more surgery, Dr Walker opted to close the wound with steri-strips instead of more stitches. She got a small lecture about being more careful and as soon as they returned home, Sam was waiting for them. Aurora walked with him down the hall towards her private living room in silence.

“So, what happened yesterday?” Sam asked after the sat down.

“I’m sure you know already,” Aurora replied. “Dad would have told you everything.”

“He did but I was hoping to hear your side of it,” Sam said.

“I don’t know Sam.” She huffed out a breath, tucking her hair behind her ear as she collected her thoughts. “I finally went downstairs, and I started painting for the first time since the shooting…”

“That sounds like a good thing,” Sam said. “What went wrong?”

“I kept knocking the paint over,” Rori sighed. “And it just felt wrong, like I was off balance or something. I’m right handed so I didn’t really think I needed my left hand to paint but I guess I use it more than I realised. Any way I got frustrated and then I just lost all motivation for the work, so I left and went down the hall to the recording studio, but that was so much worse.”

“How so?” Sam prompted when she didn’t seem to want to continue.

“For as long as I can remember, music has been everything,” Rori tried to explain. “When I had nothing, I had music. When mum died, I wrote about it, and when I moved here, I wrote about it. Playing the piano, writing songs, it’s what I do. My art is all if have. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life and yesterday I couldn’t do any of it. I got so angry Sam. I just got so angry and there was nothing I could do to channel that, so I just blew up.”

“And you trashed the studio,” Sam finished.

“I did,” Rori mumbled. “I don’t know what I do now Sam.”

“Would it help if we got a clearer picture from your surgeon?” he asked. “Maybe a firmer timeframe of when she excepts you to be able to do certain things again? We could work out a clear plan of what surgeries and physically therapies are needed to get you where you want to be. Maybe having some milestones to work towards will help.”

“I think I’d really like that,” Aurora agreed. “I’ve got another surgery next week when Harry and I get back from London and then I’ll have my check-up appointment 2 weeks after that. I could probably discuss the long term plan at the follow-up, but could you maybe come with me?”

“Of course, I’ll come with you,” Sam said. “When do you leave for London?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, but I can feel Dad gearing up to fight me on it. After yesterday I can’t really blame him for freaking out this time, but if I spend one more day moping around the tower, I’m going to lose it again.”

“Why don’t I talk to him about this trip being a good thing while you go for a run in the park to clear your head?”

“I would really appreciate you talking to him,” Aurora admitted, “and a run sounds perfect right now.

They both stood back up and Sam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him for a few long minutes, before he left to go talk to Tony. As he walked away, Rori went to change into her active wear.

xXx

It was late by the time Aurora’s flight arrived at Heathrow, and she ordered an uber for the 45 minute ride to Harry’s north London house. He was waiting up for her and the moment the car pulled up to the curb he was out the front door to grab her bag. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked into the house.

“How was your flight?” he asked while she kicked off her shoes and hung her coat in the hall closet.

“Exhausting,” Rori sighed. “Mind if we just go straight to bed?”

“Of course, love,” Harry replied, taking her hand in his as he carried her bag up the stairs towards the bedroom. She barely kept her eyes open long enough to change out of her clothes and brush her teeth before she collapsed into his bed and snuggled up against him.

xXx

Aurora woke up well before Harry given that she was still running on New York time. She quietly slipped from the bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee before pulling out what she needed from the fridge. She had an omelette in the skillet in front her and the smell of freshly brewed coffee was in the air when she heard Harry shuffle into the kitchen behind her.

“Morning,” he mumbled his voice low and gruff with sleep.

“Damn,” Rori chuckled. “Was trying to get this finished before you woke up so I could bring it up to you. Happy Birthday baby.” She skipped over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Harry hummed into the kiss, his hands slipping lower as he licked at her lower lip and she opened her mouth to him. “Omelette’s gonna burn if you don’t stop groping my butt,” she murmured against his lips when they pulled apart.

“Let it burn,” Harry groaned, chasing after her lips as she pulled away from him. She giggled when he refused to let her go.

“Harry,” she whined. “At least move us over to the stove if you won’t let go.”

He did as he was told, shuffling them through the kitchen, turning her in his arms until he plastered along her back. She managed to salvage the omelette before it completely burned, sliding it onto a plate and bending over to pull the other one from the oven where she’d placed it to keep it warm. Harry chuckled darkly when she bent over, squeezing her hips when she pushed back against his pelvis.

“None of that mister,” she chided. “Breakfast first, then we can fool around.”

He pouted but took the plates she held out to him, moving over to the kitchen table as she made their coffees before joining him. The moment they’d finished eating Aurora squealed as she was scooped up into Harry’s arms and carried off towards the bedroom.

xXx

They headed into the city as it started to get dark, meeting Harry’s family and some of his friends at a little Chinese restaurant in SoHo. They were shown to a large round table and Aurora quickly hugged Louis, Niall and Liam before she sat down next to Harry with Gemma sitting on her left and Anne on Harry’s right. Conversation flowed easily as the food was brought out and Aurora swiped one of Harry’s spring rolls from his plate.

“Oi!” he gasped, jabbing his chopsticks at her, causing her to giggle and lean over to kiss his cheek. “You’re bloody lucky you’re so cute,” he told her.

After the meal, a waiter brought out a tray of cupcakes with candles lit and the table erupted into a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday. Aurora took a few photos with her phone before Harry blew out the candles and then divvied the cupcakes up around the table.

“How long are you in town for this time?” Gemma asked after they’d finished off the cupcakes.

“Just a few days,” Rori replied. “We’re meeting with our wedding planner to go over some things, but I need to be back in New York by the end of the week.”

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Really well, we’ve got the venue, caterer, photographer and the cake all organised already. I had a lot of spare time on my hands after the proposal, so I really got stuck into it all last year.”

“What are you getting done this week then?” Gemma asked.

“We’re doing another walk through at the venue to finalise layout and decide on decorations, colour schemes, all of that.”

“I know the boys have their suits sorted already but we’ll have to start shopping for dresses soon,” Gemma pointed out, an excited smile on her face. “I’m honestly so excited to be Harry’s Best Woman. I really wasn’t expecting him to ask me.”

“Are you kidding me Gem?” Rori laughed. “There’s no one else he would have asked. Especially after I called dibs on Louis being my Man of Honour.” The two girls burst out laughing, drawing Harry’s attention away from his conversion.

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” he asked, looking between his sister and fiancé who were both still giggling.

“Just discussing the bridal party,” Rori said, kissing Harry’s cheek.

“And the fact that you stole my best man?” Harry asked.

“I’m feeling so wanted,” Gemma joked. “And you’re not really that annoyed about it, admit it. You’d give her anything she asked for.”

“I really would,” Harry replied, leaning into kiss Aurora, his hand cupping her cheek as he smiled into the kiss.

“Oi! No snogging at the table!” Louis yelled from across the room, throwing a wadded up napkin at the pair, Niall laughing hysterically when he hit Harry in the side of the head.

“It’s my birthday so if I wanna kiss my fiancé, then I will,” Harry replied before returning to the kiss. Aurora broke away from the kiss in a fit of giggles as Liam and Louis started to boo them.

They all said their goodnights not too much later, and Aurora promised to call Gemma soon to organise a time to go dress shopping with Ella and Lottie soon.

xXx

After breakfast the following morning, they both pulled on their winter coats and walked from Harry’s Hampstead house across the Heath towards the Hill Gardens. They met their wedding planner Rebecca and a member of the grounds team at the Pergola and followed them inside. Even in winter, the place was absolutely beautiful, and Aurora was smiling brightly as they were shown around. Becca pointed out where they could have an arch placed for them to stand under and where the chairs would be placed.

“It’s perfect Harry,” Rori whispered after they had wandered the space for a little while. “I’m so glad we decided on here.”

“And just imagine it with the spring flowers,” he added, wrapping his arms around her as they gazed around the space.

“Well I think we’re good to go,” Becca said, walking back towards the couple after speaking with the staff. “Rori you’ve given me pretty clear design ideas, so I’ll get all the furnishings confirmed and send you through the photos for you to sign off on it, but I think we’re good for the ceremony. Let’s go talk reception.”

The three of them walked out of the gardens to where Becca had parked her car and, in a few minutes, they were back at Harry’s house where they had decided to hold the reception.

“The plan is to have the guests walk back here after the ceremony while we go into the Heath to take photos,” Harry explained as they walked into the house. “We’ve got a large back garden and we were thinking two long tables down either side, dance floor in the middle, bridal party at a table across the back.”

“I’d also like some lights strung up in the trees and maybe over the dance floor,” Rori added, walking Becca around the space.

“And colour scheme is still navy and creams?” the older woman confirmed while she took a few photos of the yard.

“Yes,” Rori agreed. “I don’t want to go too over the top, just something simple and tasteful.”

“Tasteful is definitely something we can do,” Becca promised.

They all headed back inside out of the cold and Harry set about making tea as the two women sat down at the kitchen table to discuss details. Becca had her laptop open and Aurora shared her the link to a Pinterest board where she’d been collecting images of details she liked. They spent a few hours discussing everything until Becca was satisfied, she fully understood what the young couple wanted.

“Thank you again Becca,” Rori said when they started to wrap up. “You’ve made this entire process so easy, and I honestly don’t know how we would have gotten anything done without you.”

“Just doing my job, darling,” Becca replied. “And I should be thanking both of you. I’m so used to dealing with Bridezillas that it’s so refreshing how laid back you’ve both been about everything.”

“There’s enough stress in our lives without letting this become another thing,” Harry said, his arm draped across the back of Rori’s seat. Becca smiled warmly at them.

“So, when are you going dress shopping?” she asked Rori.

“I’m hoping to fly back over next month or in April to go with the girls to get their bridesmaids dresses. They boys’ suits are already getting made, so that’s one more thing ticked off.”

“You’ve already got the suits sorted?” Becca asked in surprise. “You guys have really got this organisation thing down.”

“Harry’s getting his suit made by Gucci,” Rori explained, “and they offered to make the groomsmen’s suits as well, so we just decided to go for it.”

“You two are so down to earth I sometimes forget you’re famous,” Becca laughed, “but Gucci. Damn.”

“I know,” Aurora laughed as well. “I’m working with them to design my dress as well. Maybe we should have got them to sponsor the wedding.”

Becca stayed for a little while longer, chatting with the couple before heading out with promises to email Aurora soon.

“I really don’t know why people make planning a wedding into this super stressful thing,” Harry said when she left.

“Right?” Rori agreed. “I have complete faith in Becca. She knows the vibe I’m going for and I trust her to decide on all the finer details. I just don’t see the point in hyper-fixating on it all. I just want to be able to enjoy the day and have fun.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark

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peachesandcreamsthings · 4 years

Text

Sand Pit and Summon · Mythical Lives

⛱ Genre: Fluff. Angst. Fae!Jimin. Devil!Taehyung. Witch!Yoongi. MythicalCreatures!AU. 🧙🏻‍♀️ Word Count: 4.5 K ⛱ Warnings: Bullying. Physical and Verbal Abuse. Blood. Cursing. Inaccurate representation of Witchcraft. Please do not read if it makes you uncomfortable. Please read with caution. 🔮 Author’s Note: The second installment of Mythical Lives is finally here! Took me a while to find the will to write this as this is heavier compared to the stories that I usually write, but I made it! I hope you enjoy it. Comments and Feedbacks would be greatly appreciated💜

Jimin sighed for the nth time that day, he was currently at school and it was almost lunch. Bored out of his mind, he zoned out. Charming spells did not seem as interesting as it usually was to the young Fae and all he wanted to do was to go home and nap until dinner was ready or even hide in Yoongi hyung’s bedroom. Jimin turned his gaze away from his desk to the classroom, his classmates were all sitting in pairs, with him as an exception. Some of them were paying attention to Mrs. Merlin, while others were busy playing with their seatmates. The young Fae frowned at the fact that he had to sit at the back of the class alone with no one sitting next to him. Mrs. Merlin said that it was because he had transferred to the school in the middle of the semester. Jimin felt lonely— he wanted to have someone to sit next to him too, but being the timid young Fae that he was, he couldn’t speak up.

The bell finally rang and Jimin sighed in relief, at least it’s closer to the end of the school day. Jimin stood up and brushed off his uniform. He braced himself for the busy wave of young creatures as he stepped out of the classroom. Being small due to his Fae nature, he hated walking through the hallway during lunch time as it was one of the busiest times in school— packed with young mythical creatures who attended the same school as him, not to mention how aggressive they could get due to their empty tummies. After finding a gap, Jimin managed to throw himself in the busy hallway. He tried to pick up his pace before he could get trampled in a sea full of young creatures. However, his pudgy legs could only keep up for a few moments until he tripped. Jimin whined— irritated at the fact that he tripped again as it was a common occurrence for him to trip or slip while trying to navigate the busy hallway.

“You alright?”

Jimin whipped his head to the voice to find an older boy, crouching with his hand stretched out for Jimin to take. Relieved, Jimin nodded and took the hand as the boy pulled him up.

“Thanks, Yoongi hyung.” Jimin mumbled.

“That’s okay, Dimminie.” Yoongi smiled, showing his gum and dental brace— the culprit to his slight lisps. He then took Jimin’s pudgy hand and wrapped it in his own, guiding the younger boy to escape the sea full of young creatures.

Jimin huffed as they exited the hallway, heading to the playground where it wasn’t as busy as the hallway or the lunch room. The younger boy tugged on the older boy’s hand, leading him to the swings.

“Have you had lunch?” Yoongi asked, concerned for the younger boy’s wellbeing. Yoongi has known Jimin for years and he knew that the young Fae was quite fussy when it came to food.

Jimin shook his head, and sat on the empty swing. “Not hungry.”

“You need to eat your lunch, Diminnie,” Yoongi huffed, sitting on the other swing next to Jimin with his lunch in his hands. “That’s how you grow!”

The Fae whipped his head to the side to face the older boy, his face full of surprise, “I can grow if I eat my lunch??”

Yoongi nodded, before handing him the other half of his sandwich. “Here, you can have some of mine. It’s bacon and eggs sandwich.”

“Mummy said that I won’t grow as tall as you cause I’m a Fae…” Jimin said, still confused as he took the sandwich from the older boy’s hand, “Thank you, hyung.”

Yoongi winced internally, knowing that Jimin’s mother wasn’t really lying but he didn’t want to hurt his younger friend’s heart, so he lied instead. “That’s not true. You’ll be as tall as me when you turn eight, trust me.”

“I trust you!” Jimin said cheerfully, his eyes glittering with innocence as he started to dig in on the food in his hands. “Can I come over after school?”

“Of course, Diminnie.” Yoongi mumbled, his mouth full of bacon and eggs sandwich.

Taehyung whimpered at the sight in front of him. Living in Hell seemed fun to other young mythical creatures his age, but he hated it— The sight of people suffering, hearing their screams, the heat, the barren land and the eternal fire— it didn’t suit him. Taehyung loved the human world— he loved the flowers, the blue sky, and the bakeries. He had never experienced it himself but he knew all these from the story books smuggled into Hell by his older sister who had been working with the witches in Beaumont, a small town closest to the Portal.

“Move, boy!” A man roared as he shoved Taehyung to the side, causing the young demon to whimper at the shrill of the man’s voice and the rough impact of his action, as the man guided a bunch of sinners to their final destinations. “Scram!”

Taehyung immediately stood up and moved as soon as he heard the Demon. Tears pooled in the young demon’s eyes as emotions flowed in his system. He clenched his fists and jaw as he picked up his pace, letting his little legs to carry him away from the Demons. Taehyung couldn’t understand why such a place existed in the universe and he couldn’t accept the fact that he was a part of it. Years and years of constant harsh criticism from his dad for not being the young demon that he could be proud of and also the torment he received from the fellow young demons crossed his mind and it made him feel trapped and isolated. I hate it here, I hate it here, I hate it here, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hat—

“Taehyung?” A voice called out softly.

The young demon snapped his head in the voice’s direction, losing his train of thought. He looked around only to find himself standing in front of his older sister. “Oh…”

“You alright?” The older demon asked, her voice filled with worries at the sight of her younger brother. She then pulled him into her arms as soon as she spotted the tears that pooled in his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

Taehyung sobbed as soon as he was pulled into his older sister’s embrace, he circled his arms around her neck and hid his face on her chest as he continued crying. “I… I hate it here.”

“Oh, Tae…” Taehee softened at the revelation as she rubbed his back.

This wasn’t the first time that Taehyung had a breakdown over this matter. His sister knew that he hated being here— he hated the way their father treated him and he hated the bullying that was caused by his fellow young demons. Taehee wished that there was something that she could do to help but unfortunately her father was too stubborn to listen and she knew the young demons were just a bunch of little meanies due to their evil trait.

“Taehyung, listen to me,” Taehee put her younger brother at an arm’s length, her voice strict, making sure that he would be looking into her auburn eyes. “I know that this is hard, but I promise you that once you’re my age, you can escape Hell. You can work with the witches and you won’t have to come back to Hell unless it’s necessary. I promise you that.”

The young demon nodded at his older sister’s statement and sniffled as he felt better after the reassurance that Taehee gave him.

“So until then, I need you to be strong and I need you to hold on.” Taehee said cheerfully as she wiped the tears sliding down his cheeks. “Promise?”

Taehyung hesitated. He wasn’t sure that he could be strong enough to go through the torment that was caused by his father and his friends. Gnawing on his bottom lips, the young demon’s shoulders slumped. “I don’t know…”

The older demon clicked her tongue at her younger brother and booped his nose, “Come on, I promised you that you’ll get to escape and work with the witches when you grow up.”

“That’s what I ask in return for my promise, Tae. I don’t break my promises.” She continued, “And you know that nothing is free in life, right?”

Taehyung nodded, knowing that fact well enough as it had been drilled into his head by his evil father as soon as he was able to talk.

“I can… try?” He said, still unsure whether or not he could fulfill his promise. The younger knew how important promises were and hence he would only promise someone when he was sure that he could fulfill it.

“I guess that’s good enough, for now.” His sister snorted and straightened up after matching to her younger brother’s eye level. She then gently took the younger’s hand, before wrapping it in her larger one. “Come on, I’ll take you home.”

Jimin winced at the slam of the door as he sat on Yoongi’s bed while the older boy left the room to ask his mum for some refreshment for the both of them. Looking around, the young witch’s room wasn’t as messy as it normally would, the young Fae assumed it was because the older was reprimanded by his mum. Still, books were scattered on his desk— some opened and some neatly stacked in one corner, and being the curious little Fae he was, he glanced at the messy pile. Jimin knew that Yoongi didn’t like anyone looking at his books. It’s witchy business, the older boy said once. However, the fact that his hyung was so secretive about his witchy business made him want to know even more. Yoongi never kept any secret from him, afterall. Biting his lips, Jimin started to consider his options— he could take a little peek at one of the books while Yoongi was away or he could be a good little boy and respect his hyung’s wishes. Maybe if the older boy is in a good mood, he might be able to show Jimin a few little spells he learned in school.

After considering her options, he figured that being a Fae meant that he could probably charm his way with the older boy. Hence, he stood up from the bed and headed to where Yoongi’s desk was located. The young Fae paused and sharpened his senses to avoid being caught by the young Witch. Once Jimin was sure that Yoongi was nowhere near his room, he then turned to the spell books. He traced the letters on the front page of each book, trying to find one that was interesting enough for him. Potions 101. Nope. How to Use your Broom. Boring. Spell books. Meh. Mythical Creatures 101. I’ve got one of these. How to Take Care of your Altar and Ritual tools. Ugh, he had to learn how to take care of them too? That sucks! Herbology 101. Huh, Namjoon hyung would ace this subj— Aha! Demonology 101. There it was— the book that caught Jimin’s attention, sitting on the bottom of one of Yoongi’s book piles.

Carefully, the Young Fae started to flip the pages. The first of the few chapters were mostly about Demon, their origins, and their history. Fascinating, Jimin thought as he briefly scanned through each paragraph. The curious boy’s pointed ears twitched once in a while as he read while he listened for Yoongi hyung’s arrival. Jimin kept on flipping each page carefully to avoid it being ripped, only pausing when he found something that interested him. How to summon a Demon— Chapter 13. Huh, this is interesting.

What you would need:

Chalk

Sigil of said Demon

Spell to summon said Demon

Offerings

Step 1: Draw a magical circle around you to protect yourself.

Step 2: Wear Sigil of the Demon you want to summon.

Step 3: Relax and clear your mind of any thoughts.

Step 4: Start chanting the spell to su—

“Dimminie, what are you doing?” Yoongi stood in the door, with a tray full of snacks and juice in hand before gasping. “Is that one of my textbooks??”

Jimin froze like a deer caught in the headlights. Oh no, he thought. “H-hyung, I-I’m sorry!” The young Fae exclaimed, “I was uh… I was just looking at the pictures, promise!!”

The older boy squinted and tilted his head, suspicious of his friend’s action. “What did I tell you about those textbooks?”

“That they are dangerous and I shouldn’t touch them…” Jimin mumbled, feeling guilty for not listening to his older friend.

Yoongi sighed and walked to his desk before putting the tray full of food down. He then faced the young and charming Fae, eyes searching for any emotion on the younger’s face.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jimin said while he pouted, knowing well what Yoongi was doing as it was one of his habits, “ I’m okay. I didn’t see anything bad.”

Yoongi breathed out in relief, knowing that the younger didn’t get to see anything horrific that was written by his great great great ancestors. He knew that there were some nightmare inducing topics in some of the books and Yoongi didn’t want Jimin to see any of it.

“That’s good.” The young Witch said softly and took the book out of Jimin’s hands. “I don’t want you near those books, okay? It’s for good reason, trust me.”

“I’m sorry, hyung…” Jimin looked down, disappointed that Yoongi wouldn’t let him anywhere near those goddamn textbooks but also guilty for not listening to him in the first place. It’s just books, why won’t he let me read any of it?

The older boy nodded and grinned as he gestured to the tray, “I got you some of your favourite snacks. Let’s have some before I take you home!”

Jeongwon smirked at the weak boy crouched on the floor with his hands covering his head, satisfaction filled his whole system. He sneered as he heard the boy whimpered, “You’re weak. It’s disgusting.”

“P-Please stop…” Taehyung winced as he could feel the impact of Jeongwon’s actions. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for him to heal from all the injuries this time.

“Why should I?” Jeongwon snickered and with a snap of his fingers, Taehyung started to convulse helplessly. “You’re useless, ugly and weak. The Dark Lord would be offended to see such a weak Demon existed in his realm.”

“Oh wait, you don’t even deserve to be called a Demon.”

Taehyung gasped, his whole body felt like it had been thrown into the Eternal Fire. He couldn’t do anything to fight back. Jeongwon was 7 years older and stronger, he knew how to control and use his power to his advantage. The younger demon regretted coming to school today— he should’ve begged his sister to take him out of Hell. Taehyung screamed in agony, aside from feeling the burn, he felt like his body had been torn and ripped into pieces repeatedly. Dear Lucifer, please end my life. I don’t want to be here anymore, he begged. The boy cried and gasped. He would rather be gone from this realm than to stay here for another minute.

“Come on!” Jeongwon roared, his patience running thin. He wanted to have some fun, and yet Taehyung wasn’t willing to fight him back. This is getting boring. “Fight back, you coward! Use your power.”

“N-no, p-please!” Taehyung groaned and coughed. He could feel his body slowly giving out and at that moment, it seemed like it was the easiest thing to do— to give up.

The older demon sneered and snapped his fingers again, causing the torture to stop. Taehyung breathed a sigh of relief, grateful the torment had finally stopped, although the boy knew that Jeongwon wasn’t done.

“You’re so boring, you know that?” Jeongwon crouched in front of Taehyung. “And ugly— I mean look at those horns! They’re so tiny!” He laughed, mocking the younger as he tugged on Taehyung’s horns roughly, causing the latter to whimper.

Jeongwon hummed, as he stood up and circled the weakened boy, deep in thought. He looked at his environment— an empty cottage, located in the forest just behind the school. He was aware that no one would be able to interfere with what he was doing as no one would ever enter the forest since it was known as a cursed forest, which Jeongwon knew was a lie the elders created to scare young demons. Should I leave a scar? Or should I transport him somewhere? I’m sure I’ll be able to transport him with what I’ve learnt from class. Maybe I should do both! And more! Yes, that is a great idea and I am sure that Father will be proud of me.

The older boy kneeled in front of Taehyung and took his chin, forcing the younger to face him. Taehyung cowered in fear, but he was too weak to get out of Jeongwon’s grasp. He could only shiver in fear and avoid Jeongwon’s deadly stare. He wasn’t sure what the older boy was going to do— He could only hope that this will end soon and that he wouldn’t have to feel all the pain anymore. This wasn’t the first time that Jeongwon had done this to him and he knew well enough that this wouldn’t be the last time.

“Look at me, you coward.” Jeongwon spat, forcing Taehyung to look at him. “Look at me and remember this: You. Are. Worthless. You. Are. Disgusting.” The evil boy closed his eyes, preparing himself to inflict pain to his victim. He cracked his neck and took a deep breath, before looking deep into Taehyung’s eyes. Jeongwon smiled evilly, causing Taehyung to shiver from the sheer menace and wickedness. Being a Demon suits him a lot, Taehyung chuckled internally, feeling bitter and defeated.

Jeongwon traced a line on Taehyung’s face with his finger, from his forehead through his left eye and down to his cheek. Taehyung screamed from the pain, it burned him to no end, and it felt like he was being stabbed with a sword. He screamed and screamed and screamed. He had never felt anything this painful before. He thought that scraped knees were the most painful, but he was wrong, and it was far worse than being abused by his own Father. The pain was excruciating for the six years old boy to handle. Taehyung cried and screamed, and it didn’t help. He started crying blood and made the wound stung even more. He started to lose the sight on his left eye from the impact.

“No, no, no, please! I c-can’t… Please…” Taehyung begged the older boy— his hands stretched out trying to find Jeongwon, or anything to hold on to, “Please stop… I can’t see.. I-It’s dark!”

Jeongwon chuckled darkly.

“Goodbye, Taehyung, you weak bastard.” He said before snapping his finger for the last time.

Jimin gaped at the sight in front of him. It was messy, blood everywhere— on the sand, on the pit, on him, on the boy in front of him. His eyes widened in horror. It worked! It worked but what did I summon? Wait, I mean who! Oh my Goodness, why is he bleeding??

The young Fae looked around at his surroundings. The playground was empty as it was dusk— everyone had gone home and he was the only one there, squatting in the Sand Pit and trying to Summon a Demon— following the instructions from Yoongi hyung’s textbook. At first, he wasn’t sure if drawing stars and hearts as the Sigil, and cookies and milk as offering would suffice when it comes to summoning a Demon— but it seemed like it was working, since a boy whom he assumed would be a Demon as he had horns on his head, appeared not long after Jimin chanted ‘Open Sesame’ repeatedly.

“Okay… Think, Jimin. You need to help him!” Jimin stood up slowly, panicking at the bloody sight in front of him. The young Demon seemed to be unconscious so Jimin wasn’t too worried about the boy attacking him, but still, he was concerned and beyond sad to see a boy around his age to be in this condition. The young Fae started to breathe heavily, anxiety and panic flooding his system. Uhh, what do I do? What should I do? What would Yoongi hyung do in this situation?? Should I get someone? Oh no, no! What would I say if they ask where this boy came from?? I can’t tell them I summoned him!

“Oh, gosh!” Jimin jumped up and down, his mind and heart were all over the place. He then kneeled next to the young Demon and started to gently brush the sand away from his face. Jimin gasped as he finally noticed a gaping wound across his left eye. He had never seen anything this gruesome before and he couldn’t believe that someone was mean enough to inflict pain to others. Before Jimin knew, tears flowed down his chubby cheeks. He was filled with anger and sadness. He was angry at the person who caused this Demon boy pain. He was sad to see the boy suffer. His heart was broken at the sight of the unconscious boy. “Oh.... What did they do to you…?” He questioned the young Demon sadly, still carefully brushing the sand away.

Jimin realised that at times like this, the only person he could only count on was Yoongi. He knew that the older boy wouldn’t be happy at him for summoning a Demon, but he couldn’t care any less. Jimin would gladly receive the silent treatment from the Witch as long as they could save the boy’s life. The young Fae scrambled to his feet, his pudgy hands shoved into the pocket of his dungarees. After finding the crystal that was given to him by Yoongi, he then covered it with both of his hands. Jimin closed his eyes, as he murmured wholeheartedly, “Please, help.”

The young Fae could feel the crystal starting to warm in his tiny hands after rubbing it for a while. I’ll be there soon. You’re doing great, Diminnie. He breathed out a sigh of relief as he heard the older boy. It’s working. Jimin snapped his head down as soon as he heard a groan. He could see the boy was in excruciating pain with his face all scrunched up.

Jimin gasped and scrambled to his knees, kneeling next to the boy, “Hey, hey. You’ll be okay. What’s your name?”

“W-where am I?” The boy asked as he came into consciousness, his voice hoarse.

“You’re in Beaumont. You’re safe. I’m Jimin, what’s your name?”

The boy could only groan in response. “N-none of your b-business!”

“Diminnie!!” A voice yelled from the corner, causing Jimin to tear his gaze from the young Demon. Yoongi was breathless— it seemed like he ran straight to the playground near his house as soon as he heard Jimin asking for help.

“Dear Lord!” Yoongi gasped as soon as the bloody sight unfolded in front of him.

“Hyung, please, help…” Jimin cried as he gestured to the young Demon, “I d-don’t know… I t-tried to s-summ—”

The young Witch walked slowly into the sand pit, his eyes glued to the injured boy. He was horrified, but he tried to stay calm for the sake of Jimin and to not freak the Demon out. “We don’t have time, Diminnie. We need to help him.”

“Here, take my jacket, put it around him.” Yoongi said as he took his jacket off, handing it to Jimin before continuing softly, “Can you get up? Let me help you.”

“W-who are you?” The boy questioned harshly, he tried to get away but his whole body was in pain. He couldn’t get away. “Why should I t-trust you?”

“I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi. I’m a Witch.” He softened, before pointing to the young Fae. “He’s Dimin. Park Diminnie. He’s a Fae.”

“Please, let us help you.” Yoongi begged the boy, his voice desperate. “We can’t leave you like this. I promise I won’t ask you for your name.”

The injured boy froze, tempted at the offer but still wary of the strange boys who were so willing to help him, despite the fact that he appeared out of nowhere.

“You know what, I don’t care.” Yoongi snapped, his patience running thin and his emotions running high. “I’m going to take care of you. Come Diminnie, get him up.” He continued, before lifting the injured boy up as he worked with Jimin.

“We’ll take him to my house. My mum can help.” Yoongi explained as they started to walk out of the playground to the streets.

The injured boy choked out as they helped him walk, one boy on each side, “So this is Beaumont huh?”

“Uh-huh!” Jimin replied, sounding too cheerful compared to the situation at hand. “Welcome to Beaumont!”

His cheerful greetings caused the young Demon to chuckle, “Thanks. I wish I wasn’t covered in blood, though.”

“Don’t worry about that, boy.” Yoongi smiled softly, “We’ll help you get cleaned up, and we’ll help you heal.”

“We sure will!” Jimin nodded, excited to help his new friend.

The walk from the playground to Yoongi’s house didn’t take long. The three boys were busy talking to get to know each other— Jimin was busy to explain what Beaumont looked like as the young Demon wasn’t able to see. The young Demon was busy asking questions, wanting to know more and more about Beaumont and its residents, while Yoongi was just listening to their discussion fondly. As soon as they got to the young Witch’s house, they were welcomed by his mother.

“Oh, dear!” Yoongi’s mother shrieked, before ushering the boys inside, “Here, bring him to the kitchen, Yoongi. Up on the table, Yes.”

Taehyung groaned as he felt himself being gently hoisted to the table with the help of strangers. He felt too weak to question what was going on so he gave up and let whom he assumed as Yoongi’s mother to help him.

“Jimin, I think it’s time for you to go home, love.” The female witch gently coaxed Jimin as her hands were busy preparing tools and herbs for Taehyung, “Your parents are going to be worried. It’s dinner time, isn’t it?”

“B-but Auntie!” Jimin protested, his eyes glued to the young Demon. “He’s my friend! I wanna be there for him!”

“I know,” Sehee smiled at Jimin. “He’s in good hands, though. You trust me, don’t you?”

“I do, but—”

“He’ll be okay, Jimin. Don’t worry.” Yoonseok, Yoongi’s older brother, said as he entered the kitchen, washing his hands and ready to help his mother. “Go on, go home. You can come and see him after school tomorrow.”

Jimin sighed, “Fine,” He said while pouting. “Bye, Auntie Sehee, Yoonseok hyung, and Yoongi hyung. Bye, Demon friend.”

After saying their goodbyes, Yoongi finally turned his gaze on the wooden table. He cringed, knowing well that they would have to get rid of it after this. Oh well, he thought.

“Ready, boys?” Sehee smiled widely at her two sons in front of her as she put her rubber gloves on. “Let’s save our new friend here, yeah?”

Yoongi and his brother could only sigh at their mother’s excitement. Here we go again.

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