#did i even mention at any point that my mum died here. that was pretty fucked

[danielnelsen]

of all the albums to discover and really get into while my mum was dying, it really had to be the raven locks. like i was listening to it last year, especially the first few songs, like yeah this is gonna make me feel very weird in a few months

#it’s now a few months later #im listening to it for the first time since..things. #and it’s still so so good but god i wasn’t trying to feel Emotions #but i can’t just skip solemn dream. it’s one of those albums where you HAVE TO listen to the whole thing #personal #dirt poor robins #it’s not like i got really into it for that reason. it’s just a bit of a coincidence ig #that’s not my only association at least. like the second half is about anders lmao #it’s not that bad it’s only really the one song #not like the really insanely good album i had ruined by a relationship that one time. kinda mad about that #but the things i was feeling back then were back enough that i don’t think it’s worth trying to enjoy it again #hey can you tell i don’t use twitter anymore so im having more feelings on tumblr again rip #did i even mention at any point that my mum died here. that was pretty fucked #um. go and listen to the raven locks it’s very good lmao

[bibuddie]

what if.. chris dying is the thing to bring buddie together.. the grief??

oh. oh anon.

i'm going to give you the absolute benefit of the doubt and say this message wasn't sent out of malice, it was just out of ignorance and that's fine. you're human. but i have more than a few things to say about this so it's going below a read more for anyone who's interested.

tw for talks of death/dying and the grieving process in quite a lot of detail, as well as mentions of cancer/treatments. you've been warned folks!

okay, so. my dad died when i was 11, and my mum died when i was 20, and just this last month my maternal grandmother died. i'm not saying that for any kind of sympathy or anything, it's just so you know i have some sort of idea as to what i'm talking about. i've seen up close and personal how losing a loved one wrecks someone. take my mum as an example: after my dad died, things got dark. i'm not going to go into detail bc tbh it's not any of the internet's business but my mum really spiralled after losing my dad. she was utterly lost and for a long while, i wasn't sure my mum would ever go back to the way she was.

taking it from a different perspective, when my mum died, i saw what it did to my grandparents. for a bit of background, my mum was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer in 2018 pretty much out of nowhere. she went through 7 cycles of chemo, 2 surgeries and 4 weeks of radiation and she was declared cancer free, and then she was killed by a pulmonary embolism. we were all kind of lulled into a false sense of security and then the rug was completely and utterly pulled from underneath us, and it hurt like hell. but i watched what it did to my grandparents in particular. my grandad was pretty much the same as always, maybe a little quieter (a product of the stoicism of his generation maybe).

my grandmother, on the other hand, wanted to go into excruciating detail all the time. in the months immediately after my mum died, she wanted me to recount the night she died in as much detail as i could. for context, my grandparents weren't at the hospital when my mum died, but i was. i was my mum's next of kin, and so a lot of the burden fell on me in terms of making decisions about continuing/withdrawing care. so my grandmother needed to know everything, and i was kind of stuck between a rock and a hard place because it hit a point where i wanted so desperately to help, but i had no idea what to do because the one thing my grandmother wanted me to do was ultimately hurting me.

now, how does this all link back to your original message? a child dying is not a reason to begin a new relationship, basically. a relationship started in the wake of grief, especially grief that profound is never going to be healthy, and it's never going to last. look at what happened to eddie after losing shannon - he spiralled, and he spiralled hard, and that's completely understandable. much of eddie's arc in s3/4a was coming to terms with life after losing shannon, and trying not to get stuck in his grief. even when he's dating ana, we see that he's not really ready for that - a relationship centered around his grief is never going to work in the long run, and that plays a role in his whole breakup with ana in the first place.

if christopher died? eddie wouldn't recover from that. sure, maybe he'd survive the acute grief. he'd go back to work and maybe he'd even have some fleeting moments of happiness here and there. but he'd never be the same eddie that we know currently. it took him so long to move out of the grief surrounding shannon and the circumstances around her death. but, as we've seen on the show for seasons now, christopher is his life. everything eddie does, everything eddie is is for chris. if christopher died, eddie would become a shell of his former self. he wouldn't be able to move past that, and he wouldn't be in any place to be in any sort of meaningful, romantic relationship.

buck would obviously also be grieving, but his grief would look different to eddie's. neither of them would be in any sort of place to get together romantically in the wake of christopher's death, and i think implying that they could do that isn't fair to them or to their characters. they'd be too aware of a major missing element in their relationship, and i don't think it's fair to insinuate that they could feasibly get together in the wake of christopher's death. i just can't ever see that conceivably happening, i'm sorry.

(also insinuating a child dying would...encourage his parent to begin dating someone...almost in a hopeful tone...it isn't the one for me)

#buddie #christopher diaz #anon #asks #rebecca rambles #tw grief #tw cancer #tw death #look. this is long but it all needed to be said.

[jamiewintons]

Why I Think Jamie Winton is Autistic

An anon sent me an ask asking why I think Jamie is autistic, so here is my explanation. I'm autistic myself, but every single autistic person is different, so I can't speak for everyone. Please forgive me if I didn't explain things clearly. If anyone has any thoughts they'd like to share, or examples to add, please let me know! (Explanation about why I think Thomas has ADHD is coming soon!)

Reliance on daily routines - Pretty much the first thing we learn about Jamie is that he loves his routine. All of his work outfits are on coat hangers labelled with each day. He has the exact same breakfast every single morning. He doesn’t like stepping out of his comfort zone whatsoever.

There's also the part where he temporarily gives up on finding Layla, and he keeps going to work despite the end of the world;

Paula: Jamie, why are you bothering?

Jamie: Because I'm a bank manager. I mean, what else of me is left? At least here, I know where I am.

I know that this is because he’s depressed and protecting himself from more pain, but as an autistic person myself, I tend to bury myself in my routine even more than usual when I’m depressed.

Finding it hard to understand what others are thinking or feeling - We know that Jamie is definitely a kind, caring person, but sometimes he doesn’t recognise that he’s not the only one feeling things. For example, he doesn’t realise that Paula would be upset about him not calling her for a week until Dave brings it up.

Dave: Listen, I know Layla did a number on you, and I’m sorry, I really am. But it’s time to start thinking about other people now. Like Mary, like Paula.

Jamie: Paula? What’s Mum got to do with this?

Dave: Paula rescued you from the car park! Paula raised you! I mean, have you called her this week? No. I know you haven’t, because I did, and she’s gutted. Look, you’re upset, of course you are, but we’re all upset, mate. Everyone’s scared.

Also, the scene where Dave says he wants to car surf and Jamie is quite blunt with him:

Dave: This is not just about you. You’re not the only person who’s got stuff he wants to do before he dies.

Jamie: Right. Yeah. Okay. But my stuff actually means something, doesn’t it?

After both of these conversations, once Dave has explained things to him, Jamie clearly feels guilty about the fact that he’s disregarded other people’s emotions. He’s not a jerk, but sometimes he just gets so caught up in his own head that he doesn’t think.

Having increased empathy or immense care for people - On the other hand, Jamie can also be incredibly empathetic. I think that the best example of this is when he goes back to working at the bank, and he lets homeless people come and sit inside where it's warm, and clears a lady's mortgage so she doesn't have to worry about getting kicked out of her house.

Difficulty regulating emotions - Jamie definitely has a lot of emotional meltdowns over the series; for example, when he’s banging on the glass yelling at the cops, and the “I’m not having a meltdown!” scene. Also, Layla mentions him getting “high-pitched and shouty”, so these kinds of things still happened before she disappeared and Jamie got depressed.

Difficulty with relationships - He'd never had a girlfriend before Layla, and he was an adult when they got together. Not necessarily an autistic thing, but I think I can count it.

Extreme interest in one particular topic - This one is just a headcanon, but since Paula mentions that Jamie was obsessed with Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles when he was a kid, I like to imagine that was one of his special interests. He's also intensely single-minded when it comes to finding Layla to the point that nothing else seems to matter to him.

#autistic headcanon #autistic headcanons #autism headcanon #autism headcanons #jamie winton #ymata #you me and the apocalypse #mat baynton #mathew baynton #six idiots

[yespleasetommyshelby]

Temporary - Oscar Diaz imagine Part 6

Previously...

"De nada princesa." He winked before stepping out into the yard, a chorus of 'spooky!' coming from the Santos as he closed the door behind him.

A cough from beside me brought me back to earth, turning to see three sets of eyes on me, Ruby and Jamal looking as though I'd killed somebody right then and there and Cesar with a knowing smirk on his face.

"What?" I asked innocently.

------------------

"What did you do?" Jamal asked, still stood staring at me with wide eyes.

"I have never, ever, seen an actual smile on that guys face." Ruby muttered, watching the front door as though Oscar would magically walk through it any second.

"He's got a point." Cesar added making my eyes move to him. "He's my brother and I've never heard him call anyone 'princesa' before, let alone offer to let a girl stay over with no repayment, if you get what I mean." He smirked as he looked at me, his eyes holding a knowing glint.

"Maybe I just have that effect on people." I shrugged with a slight laugh. "Anyway, what's this about a school dance?" I asked in attempt to change the subject.

"It's on Friday and we're gunna get freaky with it." Jamal sung as he moved his hips in what I think was supposed to be a 'sexy' way.

"Okay, that's gross." I stated pointing at the younger boy as he slowly stopped dancing, crossing his arms before flopping down on the couch besides me.

"What is with you people and throwing water on my flame?" He groaned to himself.

"Jamal, baby, you need to have a flame for someone to put it out." I spoke with false sympathy, laughing as he rolled his eyes and mimicked me.

"How were the school dances in Cali?" Ruby asked leaning against the kitchen counter as he watched me.

"Uh, I didn't actually go to any." I shrugged thinking back to how me and Jess would just take a couple bites down to the beach and drink the night away.

"You didn't go? Like, to any?" Cesar asked with a surprised look on his face.

"Not that I remember no, I used to just go down to the beach and get drunk." I shrugged with a small smile.

"You should come." He continued making me look up to him in slight confusion. "To our dance." He clarified with a smirk.

"Oh, well in case you haven't realised I finished school a couple years ago, and I didn't even go to yours." I smiled at his offer.

"So? We can bring dates from other schools, or not from school at all, this is freeridge, it's a pretty relaxed deal." He shrugged, the smirk still on his face.

"I'm not sure that's going to a school dance with a fourteen year old is such a great idea." I muttered unsurely.

"You're overthinking things here Lia." Jamal said loudly as he pushed himself up and stood next to Cesar and Ruby. "God, you're definitely related." He spoke to himself as he looked up to the ceiling.

"Hey!" Me and Ruby yelled at the same time making Jamal raise his eyebrows in an 'I told you so' style. "But he's right." Ruby shrugged. "It's nothing serious just a dance, besides, I thought you'd be up for some fun after whatever just happened." He continued.

"Ruby's right." Cesar nodded, all three boys stood watching me and waiting for an answer.

"Fine." I sighed in defeat. "You're on." I smiled.

--------------

"Thank you again." I smiled as Oscar grabbed what he needed from his room before spending the night on the couch.

"Ain't nothin'." He shrugged as he headed towards the door, fresh shirt and shorts in hand.

"I'm going to the school dance with your brother." I blurted out stopping him with his hand on the doorknob. "Oh my god that sounded so much stranger out loud." I groaned as I flopped back onto his bed staring at the ceiling.

"Why?" He snorted as he turned round, dumping his stuff on a set of drawers before he stood at the side of the bed looking down at me in a mix of confusion and amusement.

"They was talking about the dance and I mentioned I'd never been to one, then Cesar offered to take me." I shrugged before sitting up and looking up at him. "It's not that strange right?"

"You're 19 and going to a school dance with my brother." He said matter-of-factly as he looked down at me with a raised eyebrow.

"I know it's so weird." I half groaned, half laughed as I thought about what I had agreed to. "You know you don't have to sleep out there right? I'm more than happy to, this is your bed after all." I mentioned, running my fingers through my tangled hair.

"A princesa should sleep on a bed, not a couch." He gave me a small smile and a shrug.

"And what about a caballero?" I asked making him look at me in confusion. "Well, you were my night in shinning armour." I teased with a smirk, and I'm sure, I saw a hint of pink lining his cheeks before he cleared his throat and it was gone. "Oscar Diaz get your culo into the bed before I tell all your little home boys that you cried at Marley and me." I smirked knowing that seeing Spooky Diaz crying earlier was going to come in handy, not that he'd admit he was.

"A) I wasn't crying, and b) even if I was you wouldn't dare." He muttered narrowing his eyes at me although the small smirk on his face let me know that he wasn't quite 100% serious.

"Try me." I smirked.

I let out a laugh as he sighed loudly throwing his head back before huffing his way over to the opposite side of the bed, pulling his top over his head before throwing himself down dramatically.

"You're such a drama queen, you know that?" I laughed as I lifted the cover and settled down on the pillow.

"Let's remember who's bed this is yeah." He muttered, both of us laid on our backs and watching the plain white roof.

"Was you close to them? Your parents I mean." I whispered remembering Ruby saying that the Diaz brothers had been alone for the majority of Cesar's childhood.

"My mum died when I was younger, couple years after Cesar was born, I don't remember much about her other than she was a jumped up crackhead." He muttered, my eyes widening slightly at how blunt and open he was being about it. "Me and my dad were kinda close when it came to gang business, I guess, but other than that I barely knew the man personally." I felt him shrug from his place besides me. "What about you?" He asked making me scoff quietly.

"Well, I don't know if you've noticed or not but me and my mum don't exactly have the greatest relationship. She's constantly on my ass trying to put me down, she tried her hardest to make me into the housewife that she's always been, and that's just not me." I shrugged laughing slightly. "But my dad." I trailled of with a sigh, a small smile on my face. "He's the greatest man I've ever met, I mean sure, he's had some troubles in the past but he's always put me and mum above it all. Even when it costs him more than he has, he always finds a way to make sure we're alright." I smiled at the thought of the hero that was my dad.

"He sounds like a good man." Oscar whispered making me turn to face him only to realise that he was already watching me.

"He is." I whispered with a small smile, my eyes captured by his as the familiar butterflies from earlier suddenly reappeared, his eyes moving between my own and my lips.

Not risking another interruption he quickly leant forwards and captured my lips with his own, moving our lips against each other's slowly, the cliché of butterflies and fireworks never really making much sense to me until this moment, when I felt it all.

I kept my eyes closed as we slowly pulled away, his forehead resting against mine as he released my bottom lip with a slight pop. Taking a deep breath I opened my mouth to speak before I was interrupted by a quick kiss on my lips before he pulled back completely.

"Sorry, I uh, I shouldn't have done that." He said quietly, looking into my eyes briefly before reaching over and playing with the small 'D' pendant that hung around my neck. "I know you got a boyfriend." He muttered scowling, dropping the necklace as though it had burned him.

"It's alright Oscar." I smiled slightly, bringing my hands up to the sides of his face my thumb rubbing his jawline gently. "I'm done with him, enough is enough, right." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"It's okay." I smiled bringing my hands to the sides of his face, my thumb rubbing over his jawline gently. "I'm not with him anymore." I shrugged making him chuckle slightly.

"Good." He smirked, placing his hands on he sides of my face forcing me to let go of his and hold onto his wrists instead. Giving me one more smirk he leaned in placing his lips against mine as his hands disappeared from my face, reaching behind my neck as I felt the weight of the necklace disappear.

Pulling away I couldn't help but laugh as Oscar threw the necklace towards the drawers opposite his bed, the small chain sliding across the surface before dropping down the back. Letting out a chuckle of his own he laid himself down pulling me towards him do that my head was resting on his chest, his arm wrapping around me waist from behind while his other was folded under his head.

"Night Lia." He mumbled, placing a small kiss on my forehead.

"Goodnight Oscar." I whispered into the otherwise silent room, placing a brief kiss to his bare chest before drifting off into the darkness.

——————

"Aye Spooky! Where you at?" Accompanied by a know at the door make me jump the next morning as I was getting myself a glass of water in Oscars kitchen the next morning.

Since I'd always been an early bird, as my mother would put it, it was no surprise that I had woken up before Oscar and Cesar, my head resting on Oscars chest with his arms wrapped around me tightly.

"Spooky man, open up!" A different voice called from outside again accompanied by a know that was more like banging.

Sighing to myself I debated whether to go and wake Oscar or to just answer the door myself, yet another knock on the door answering my question for me.

"Can I help you?" I asked as I opened the door to be met with the same Santo that had stepped up to Diego yesterday along with another one that I recognised from the Monse and Cesar fight, the one who tried to step up to me, bitch.

"Where's Spooky?" The bitch asked as he looked me up and down with smirk, only then did I remember that I was in the same clothes I'd slept in, a pair of Oscar's boxers and my tank top, luckily I had remembered to put my bra back on when I'd gotten up this morning.

"How 'bout you show me a little respect before I slam this door in your culo feo." I smiled sarcastically crossing my arms over my chest before the other guy got my attention.

"Hey, uh, Lia right?" He asked with furrowed brows like he was trying to remember. "I was there when your boy came for you." He smiled slightly.

"Right." I nodded. "Thank you for that." I smiled sincerely, genuinely thankful that he had stepped in.

"I'm sad eyes by the way." He smiled as he stuck his hand out for me to shake. "And that's Johnny." He nodded over to his companion.

"Lia." I smiled putting my hand in his and shaking it lightly. "But you already knew that." I laughed.

"Is spooky here or what?" Johnny huffed against the door frame, once again letting his eyes roam my half naked body.

"Spooky's gunna kick the shit outta you if you don't stop looking at her like that." Cesar's voice made me jump as he came to the door with a glass of juice in one hand. "Here." He smiled as he handed me the juice while taking the water from my other hand.

"Oh, thank you C." I smiled as I took a sip. "Oh shit yeah, you guys wanna come in?" I asked quickly remembering the two Santos stood waiting in the doorway.

"Thanks." Sad eyes laughed as he made his way in, fist bumping Cesar on his way.

"Apologise." I said, putting my arm across the doorway before Johnny could walk in, looking up at him with a smirk as he glared down at me. "Apologise for acting like a jackass or you can wait for Spooky out in the yard." I shrugged as he looked at me in disbelief. "Oh, and it rained last night so the couch is slightly damp." I shrugged again as I went to close the door before his hand stopped me.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He smiled sarcastically as he tried to take a step inside.

"You're sorry for what exactly?" I smirked as I stepped in his way again, getting a kick of amusement at the scowl on his face. "Well, I'm waiting." I sighed tapping my invisible watch on my wrist.

"I'm sorry for being a jackass." He groaned rolling his eyes. "Happy?" He sighed as he looked down at the smirk on my face.

"Very." I smiled as I moved out of his way to let him in, closing the door behind him.

"Aye spooky! Where you been man? Damn hyna trying to make me wait inside." Johnny cheered as Oscar appeared from the hallway in nothing but the pair of shorts that he'd slept in last night.

Sure, Oscar Diaz wasn't exactly rocking an eight pack and abs of steal, but my god was he something to look at first thing in the morning. I couldn't help but blush as his eyes landed on me, scanning me up and down quickly before he looked back to Johnny, giving him an uninterested look before shaking his head and heading into the kitchen.

"Lia." He called looking over his shoulder at me. "Come here a second." He added, motioning for me to go over to him.

"What's up?" I asked standing next to him as he opened the fridge only to from when it came up empty.

"I was gunna ask if you wanted anything but I gotta go to the store." He groaned rubbing a hand over his tanned head.

"I can take a walk to that cafe down the street, mama coco's is it?" I asked recalling seeing the small cafe a few times since I'd been back in town.

"Nah." He muttered shaking his head, closing the fridge and heading back into the living room. "Johnny, go down to mamma coco's and grab me a coffee and one of those roll things I like." He told him before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a twenty and throwing it onto the Santos lap.

"Do you normally sleep with cash on you?" I asked amused knowing that he had slept in those very shorts. "My bad." I giggled as he turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised and an amused smirk playing on his lips.

"Nah, the girl just offered man." Johnny shrugged as he picked up the cash and held it out for me to take.

"I don't care." Oscar muttered as he pushed his outstretched hand away. "What do you want?" He asked looking over his shoulder at me.

"I'll have a tea with two sugars please." I smiled at him. "Oh! And a blueberry muffin!" I added excitedly, smirking when Johnny rolled his eyes.

I laughed as Johnny stood up with a huff before making his way out of the house, with one last laugh I made my way back to Oscars room to put on my clothes from yesterday since the rest of my stuff was back at Ruby's.

"Weren't you wearing that yesterday?" Monse's voice made me jump as I made my way back into the living room that was now occupied by Oscar, Sad eyes and the core 4, plus Olivia. The core 4 was dotted around the room, Sad eyes was laid back on the recliner in the corner while Oscar and Olivia was on the couch, their thighs brushing slightly, a wave of jealousy washing over me before I shook it off, he wasn't mine, I had no right to be jealous over silly little things like that.

"Uh yeah, I haven't been back to Ruby's because, well, ya know." I shrugged slightyl before turning to the blonde girl. "You must be Olivia." I smiled over at the young girl, I'd never met her before, or even heard of her before mum and Geny told me about he staying.

"That's me." She smiled. "You're Lia right?" She said, crossing one leg over the other subconsciously pushing hers and Oscars legs closer together.

"And my date to the dance on Friday." Cesar grinned as he came over to where I was stood and out his arm over my shoulders.

"Strictly friends only, got it." I raised my eyebrows as I looked to him, making him chuckle and nod in agreement.

"Since when are you taking her?" Monse asked confused, ignoring the looks that the rest of the crew was giving her instead opting to keep her attention on me and Cesar.

"Since last night when she told me that she'd never been to her own school dances." He shrugged casually, to him it was no big deal but I could see I'm Monse's eyes that she was hurting.

"You know I don't have to go, not if you two were planning on going together." I said quickly, not looking to be in the middle of a teenage love triangle or whatever this shit was.

"Nah, we're just friends, right monse?" Cesar shrugged as he pulled me close to his side, Monse not missing the gesture.

"Right." She mumbled looking at the ground just as Johnny stormed in and threw a paper bag down onto the ktichen counter before putting the drinks down considerably gentler.

"Oh food!" I grinned as I pulled away from Cesar's hold, jumping up on the counter and opening up the bag, immediately pulling out my blueberry muffin and digging in, sending a muffin filled smile in Johnny's direction. "Gracias." I smirked as he shook his head and leant against the wall.

"Aye where's mine foo'?" Oscar piped up, leaning forward in his seat, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched me finish my muffin, throwing the wrapper to the side before taking a sip of my tea.

"I'm the bag." I shrugged with a smirk, watching as his eyes lit up with amusement while Ruby and Jamal watched with horror on their faces.

"Is that right?" He asked smirking at me with an eyebrow raised.

"That's right." I nodded as I blew into the lid of my tea before taking another sip.

"You not gunna bring it here?" He asked tilting his head to the side slightly like a confused puppy.

"I'm sorry, remind me how much you're paying me to be your waitress again?" I asked sarcastically, laughing as Ruby and Jamal's eyes widened that little bit more.

"I'll get it for you Mr Spooky Sir." Jamal said quickly getting up from his seat and rushing towards the bag only for me to grab the bad and hold it behind my back.

"Nu-Uh." I muttered shaking my head with a chuckle. "I'm gunna need the owner of the bag to come and collect it thank you." I smirked looking from Jamal to Oscar who was watching me with an amused smile on his face before he pushed himself to his feet and walked over.

"I'm right here." He smirked making Jamal jump as he appeared behind him. "Can I get my food now?" He asked as Jamal scurried back to his spot making me laugh.

"Of course." I grinned handing the bag over. "What do I get for keeping it safe for you?" I asked quietly, knowing that the other people in the room were watching the interaction.

"I could think of something." He muttered, a smirk on his face as he stepped closer.

"Oh yeah?" I smirked back as he took another step so that we were basically chest to chest only having to look up at him slightly from where I was sitting on the counter.

"Yeah." He mumbled before taking my head in his hands and bringing his lips down on mine in a slow but butterfly filled kiss.

The joint "Oh my god." From Ruby and Jamal making us pull apart slowly with small smiles on both our faces.

#on my block imagines #cesar diaz #on my block #on my block imagine #ruby martinez #monse #spooky diaz #Oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz imagines #Oscar diaz series #on my block series #temporary part six #temporary #temporary series #spooky diaz imagine #spooky diaz imagines

[farfromharry]

Call me when you get this | College!Tom fic

Summary: you knew it’d be difficult for your relationship when you and tom went away to seperate universities. but now you were missing each others calls, your only form of communication, living off of the sound of your lover through a voicemail.

Word count - 14.3k+

Warnings - language, mentions of underage drinking, suggestive content, angst

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

Friday, 7th September

Standing in front of your boyfriend’s house before nine in the morning on a cold Friday in September was not the place you really wanted to be right now, especially when you were having to say goodbye to him for who knows how long.

“I guess this is it,” he said, his voice lacking that usual boyish excitement it possessed when he was around you.

Today was the day you and Tom had been dreading for so many months. The day Tom left and really solidified the fact that the two of you had to part to go to different colleges, which were also quite a few hours away from each other. Your heart was aching as he stared at you with those sad, brown, puppy dog eyes, but you were sure your own eyes were exactly the same.

You began to tear up as you watched him pack his bags into the back of his mum’s car, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout directed at him. When he turned his head he noticed you staring and opened his strong arms for you, inviting you in. You obviously immediately accepted, rushing into his warm embrace. He squeezed you tightly in his arms, feeling your body begin to shake as you let out a broken sob.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He cupped your cheeks, making sure you were looking at him before he spoke. He had a comforting smile on his lips, one that always made you feel all warm inside. “This isn’t goodbye,” he promised, kissing your head a few times, “‘m gonna visit as much as I can, we’ll see each other soon. I’m not leaving forever,” he said.

“I’m going to miss you, so much,” you whispered, letting his strong, calming, scent overwhelm you when you buried your head back in his hoodie. “I’m so used to seeing you everyday.”

“I’m going to miss you too, more than you know Y/N.” You sighed sadly, nuzzling your face even deeper into his chest, if that was possible. Tom smiled, running his fingers through your hair as you both swayed softly in your embrace.

The moment was ruined all too soon by Nikki shouting for him. She felt bad for breaking up your moment, but the drive was already long and they wanted to arrive before lunch.

“Tom, we have to go,” his mum announced, trying to motion for him to start heading to the car. All his stuff was already packed inside, you’d helped with most of that part earlier this morning just so you got to spend more time with him, and now he was all ready to go; even if you wish he wasn’t.

Nikki offered you a sympathetic smile, knowing you were struggling to part from her son. She’d always called it ‘puppy love’ but she didn’t quite understand the extent of your affection for one another.

“I love you, and I’ll call you as soon as I can,” he promised, pressing no less than three quick pecks onto your lips. You nodded, plastering on a fake smile. He wiped your tears with the pads of his thumb, his heart fluttering as you giggled at how silly you were being.

He leaned down to kiss you one more time, ignoring the mixed taste of both of your salty tears. Only then did you realise Tom was crying too, your heart aching.

“We’re idiots aren’t we?” you asked. He nodded, chuckling as he pulled away from you. The only touch you had now was from the way your pinkies were still locked in a promise that you were going to make this work.

“I’ll see you later, bub.” “See you later, Tommy.”

He placed one final kiss on your head before turning on his heel to walk down his driveway. As he climbed in the car you were tugged into a hug by one of the twins.

When you looked up you noticed the wild curls and rolled your eyes at Harry, but nonetheless rested your head against his chest. “I still don’t know how you put up with him for so long.”

You laughed, playfully pushing Sam for the comment to scold him.

“Seriously Y/N, he’s so in love with you. Everything’s gonna be fine,” he admits in Tom’s absence. He knew that if Tom were here right now he’d probably hit him for saying so out loud.

“He’s right, he never shuts up about you,” Harry added. “Always gushing about everything you do,” he fake gagged.

“He’s whipped,” Paddy said, the youngest of the brothers making you giggle. Your heart swelled in your chest, your body suddenly feeling warm, even in the cold London weather.

Within the time of your conversation, Tom had already left, shooting you one last longing glance along the way, a smile forming on his lips when he saw you laughing with his family. You eventually had to part from the brothers and head home to pack your own things, saying your goodbyes and then starting your short walk home.

»»——⍟——««

You didn’t expect that Tom would already be desperately missing you by the time it turned dark. But your computer ringing on your desk proved you wrong.

Seeing his contact name on your screen for a facetime call made your heart flutter, sitting down in your chair to answer his call. It was slightly glitchy for the first few seconds, just while it connected, but within a minute Tom’s pretty face was lighting up your screen.

“Missing me already, Holland?” you poked fun. You watched him roll his eyes, completely ignoring your comments. “Hi, angel,” he greeted.

You bit back a smile, tucking some loose hair behind your ear to try and tame it after you caught sight of the mess you looked like in the small box at the top of the screen.

“Hi, how was your drive?” you asked. You shuffled around a bit, trying to get comfortable in your now much more bare bedroom. You’d been packing your stuff for most of the day after you got home, so your hair was a complete mess that had just been thrown out of your face when you started getting too hot to have it in your face all the time. You had one of Tom’s many hoodies you’ve stolen clinging to your body, his scent surrounding you.

Just bringing the sleeve up to your nose was enough to make it feel like he was really with you right now and not just on a screen.

“It was long, very boring too,” he whined, running his hands through his curls. “I suppose my mum made it at least a little better.” You giggled, pouting playfully for him. “How awful.”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t help you pack,” he said, motioning to the boxes stacked behind you, a soft pout on his lips that just made you want to kiss him. He’d already told you he’d felt guilty that you helped pack for him, but he wasn’t there to do the same for you in return.

“S’okay, one more box and then I’m all ready to go in the morning anyway,” you reassured, motioning around your pretty much bare room with your arms.

“It looks so empty,” he commented, recalling in his head how nicely decorated it’d looked during his millions of visits. You nodded, frowning as you looked at your childhood room that held almost no kind of decoration on the walls.

“Anyway, let’s stop moping, I don’t want to cry again today,” you demanded, hearing a chuckle come from his end. He nodded his head, quickly changing the subject to something more positive.

You and Tom were talking for hours. In that time he showed you his new dorm room, and told you that he’d need your assistance at some point to help decorate, but it was more of an excuse to get you to come visit already. Your parents also made themselves known at one point, greeting your boyfriend and asking how everything was going so far. You kicked them out after a while, playfully irritated that they were hogging your boyfriend from you.

“Get out,” you said, trying to hide your little giggle. Tom was laughing on the other side, watching this all go down. “I am so sorry about them.” He was still giggling, making you smile and roll your eyes.

“I love them, don’t worry,” he reassured you. You huffed. “I’m pretty sure they love you more than me,” you told him. He shrugged his shoulders, flashing you a cheeky grin.

“I can’t really blame them.” You scoffed, shaking your head at him, feigning disappointment.

Over the course of the call you could see him growing more and more tired. His words would come out slightly more slurred, his movements slower and his eyes fluttering shut every few minutes, craving sleep desperately.

“Is it bad that I miss you already?” he asked, eyes drooping as if he was about to fall asleep any second. You smiled, watching him with a heavy heart.

“No,” you whispered, so gently Tom almost didn’t hear it. “But i told you so.”

Your lips twitched into a grin, hearing an unimpressed groan come from the other end. When the moment died down you took another long look at your boyfriend. “You should get some rest, looks like you’re going to fall asleep any second.” He hummed, smiling at you sleepily as he rested his chin on his hand.

The simple action, even after seeing it a hundred times, still made your stomach erupt with butterflies, yet another smile overtaking your features. You were sure that at this rate your face was going to end up hurting from smiling so much, but you suppose those are the kind of sacrifices you have to make when your boyfriend’s adorable.

“Goodnight Tom, I love you,” you said, your finger hovering over the end call button. You waited for his reply patiently, knowing his very sleepy mind often took longer to process things.

“G’night. Love you.” He nuzzled his face into the blanket you’d given him before he left. The one you normally take with you to sleep at his house, the one that smelled just like a mix of your shampoo and perfume.

It made Tom’s heart pang, but your smell also comforted him in a way he couldn’t explain in words. You took one last look at his sleepy face before ending the call with a small sigh.

You fell back on your bed, your eyes landing on the box of stuff that you had to finish up before you could head to bed, your body and mind screaming at you for not doing it earlier. You begrudgingly pushed yourself up, moving over to the wall of your room that held your photos of your friends and you.

You smiled as you looked through each one, some of friends and family, others with Tom or Tessa or the other Holland siblings that had built up over the years.

One specific picture caught your eye, one where you and Tom were happily slow dancing together at his cousin's wedding in late June of the same year. The memories from that night all came flooding back all at once, your heart overflowing with love and adoration for the male for the thousandth time today.

“Ow tom, you just stepped on my foot,” you whined, frowning at him. Instead of apologising like a normal person would’ve, your boyfriend instead chose to burst into laughter. You gawked at him, trying not to crack up yourself, trying to keep up your angry facade.

“I-i’m sorry-“ he wheezed. You started to giggle yourself due to his contagious laughter, shaking your head at how childish he was.

“That hurt. You’re heavy,” you laughed, “You’re such a dick,” you mumbled, your smile refusing to fade. Tom beamed unphased by your attempted insults, kissing your head and somehow pulling your body even closer to him.

“But you love me,” he whispered, his head tucking into your neck, placing another barely there kiss on the skin of your bare shoulder. You rested your cheek against the side of his head, fingers stroking the short hair at the nape of his neck, listening to the sound of him humming along to the song.

“Yeah, I do.”

You didn’t even know Nikki had snapped the picture until you were in the car with his family driving home that night. Tom had fallen asleep in the car, his head on your shoulder after one too many drinks, the boy taking much advantage of being over the legal drinking age for the first time.

His mother had grabbed your attention in the silence and showed you the beautiful picture on her camera, watching as your face twisted into one of delight. “Nikki, it’s beautiful,” you told her, being completely honest with yourself, you were in awe.

“Well, I thought you two were just completely adorable.” She smiled at you. The romantic aura had your heart melting, asking her if you could have a copy for yourself. She was more than happy to oblige and the next day she was handing you a physical copy of the image.

Now here you were, taking the picture down after only two or so months of having it up. You felt your eyes welling up again, wiping them with the back of your hand. “Damn it Tom, you cursed, chuckling to yourself over how obviously in love you were with this boy.

»»——⍟——««

Monday, 10th September

Tom's classes at uni were scheduled to start almost a week earlier than yours, which is why he had to leave home before you. Today was his first day of classes, he only had the one today but he had already promised to tell you about it as soon as it was over. He also knew that you should’ve arrived at your own campus this morning, making a mental note to ask you how it was going so far when he called you later.

Everything on your end was going well, you ended up driving there by yourself because your parents were unfortunately busy, but the unpacking process was coming along well.

Tom left his first drama class after the hour with a wide grin on his face. He'd just had arguably the best class of his life and he could barely contain his excitement long enough to wait to tell you about it. He pulled his phone out almost as soon as he stepped out of the classroom, stepping out of the way of the students piling out of the class. He pulled up your contact and hoped you weren’t too busy with unpacking your stuff, so he could talk to you while making the long journey back to his dorm.

Your loud ringtone filling the silence in your room interrupted your current task, shuffling over to see Tom's contact lighting up your screen the same as the night before. You knew you couldn’t be annoyed at his little interruption, especially because you’d already missed the sound of his voice so much and it’d only been a few hours at most.

“Goodmorning, angel.” You smiled as he greeted you, almost as soon as the line connected.

“You sound cheerful today,” you pointed out. You held the phone between your ear and your shoulder, putting the last of your books on the small wooden bookshelf in your room.

“I just had an amazing first class.”

“Well, I’m glad, tell me all about it,” you told him. He talked to you about his morning class for almost 20 minutes, rambling and gushing about how much he enjoyed it and everything that happened, down to a T. You couldn’t have been happier for him. After your long discussion, making sure you asked him lots of questions to give him the chance to let him give you every detail, he seemed to finally take a breath and turned the topic of conversation around. You ended up talking about you now, one of Tom’s favourite things to talk about as he’s told you tie and time again.

“How’s unpacking going?” he asked, finally arriving back in his own dorm. You heard him greet someone with a hello, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Who was that?” you asked.

“My roommate,” he answered casually, like he hadn’t forgot to mention he ever even had one.

“You have a roommate, since when?” He paused and thought for a minute.

“Since I got the room I think, his name is Harrison,” he suddenly lowered his voice, cupping his mouth around the speaker of the phone, “He’s a bit of an arsehole though, I won’t lie.” You laughed loudly, glad you didn’t have your own roommate to share the small dorm with. You quickly got back on topic, Tom asking you even more questions.

“How are you settling in?” he asked, just as you had asked him last night.

“I'm okay, have some unpacking left to do, and classes don’t start until next week.” He hummed along with what you were saying, listening to every little word. “How’s the campus?”

“It's nice, but it’s lacking a certain pretty boy that I’m so used to seeing.” He awed, teasing you thoroughly about how sappy you were. You always got nervous when trying to flirt with your boyfriend, scared it wasn’t going to come out as smooth as you’d hoped.

“Shut up,” you said, trying to mask your embarrassment. He always managed to make you flustered when you talked about your feelings for him. He didn’t let it linger too long though, changing the subject as quickly as you’d moved on to it.

“So,” he started. “When do you think you could come help me decorate?” he asked, once again changing topics, this time however you were rather grateful he did.

“Need to see me in person already, Holland?” You turned the teasing around onto him, pausing what you were doing to give him your full attention.

“You know I do,” he said. You rolled your eyes when he didn’t end up nearly as embarrassed as you had just been. Sometimes his confidence in flirting really did infuriate you.

“No, but really, I want to see you. I miss your cute face,” he said, groaning towards the end of his sentence. You giggled, shaking your head. “Well, I have all this week that I can come down and see you,” you offered.

“How's Friday? You could stay the weekend, go back Sunday,” he suggested, “If that’s okay with you,” he added, not wanting to sound so demanding like he was forcing you to come.

“That sounds perfect, but check with your roommate, I don’t want to give him a reason to be more of a dick.” Tom laughed, nodding his head. “I appreciate that,” he chuckled. “and I will, don’t worry,” he promised.

There was a sudden, unintentional shift in the mood, the two of you becoming rather quiet as you both thought for a few moments. There was still the traces of your smiles on your lips, but they were quickly fading.

“How are we supposed to do this for so long?” you asked after the laughter completely died down, finally showcasing your worry to him that had been eating up at you practically since you got your college offers.

He smiled, shrugging his shoulders to himself as if it was obvious. “We’re Tom and Y/N, a fucking power couple, we got this,” he said, quoting something your school friends used to call you, all while calming your nerves about if your relationship would work long distance. “We had this discussion plenty of times before we left, I promise you, we’ll be okay.” You smiled, not that he could see.

“Good, because I'm not letting you go that easily mister.” He chuckled.

“I wouldn’t dream of letting you go either, you’re one of a kind Y/N.” You grinned, the two of you just basking in the knowledge of each other's presence.

“How did this get so cheesy so quick?” he asked, making you laugh.

“That’s just who you are,” you said.

You heard a childish scoff on the other end. “Am not.”

“You so are!” The two of you stayed on the call until you realised how much work you really had to do with your room. The boxes were still stacked up and unopened, you hadn’t even unpacked half yet.

“I appreciate your company, but I really need to get back to putting stuff away.” You didn’t really want to stop talking to him, but you couldn’t deny he was a massive distraction from your original task.

“Yeah of course, but I can't wait to see you Friday,” he said, making that giddy feeling linger in your chest. Butterflies were erupting in the pit of your stomach the more you thought about it.

“Me too, and we’ll have to plan when you can come down here sometime,” you said. “Unlike you, I have a room to myself,” you pointed out, having a slightly suggestive undertone to your words.

“I’ll remember that,” he paused, “Princess.”

You shivered, chills shooting down your spine, the nickname was something he would only use when the two of you were having, adult time.

“You bastard,” you said, referring to the way he said that with such ease, knowing it’d play on your mind for the rest of the day.

“Alright, well i’ll text you later,” he brushed it off, making his promise instead, hearing an ‘alright’ from you on the other end.

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you more, see you later Tom.” You ended the phone call with a fuzzy feeling all over your body, smiling to yourself, dazed. Tom was exactly the same all those miles away, laying back on his bed with a lovesick grin painted on to his face. You were both so in love, and so, so confident that your relationship would make it through this distance.

»»——⍟——««

Friday, 14th September

Friday thankfully came very quickly, something you were very, very happy about. Before setting off on your long, lonely journey, you pulled your phone out of your pocket to call Tom.

“Hello Thomas,” you greeted, unable to wipe your grin from your face. You were seeing your boy today.

“Hi beautiful, what’s up?” he asked, sounding rather out of breath. You furrowed your eyebrows. “Do you need an inhaler or something, or-“ you teased.

“I woke up late, I'm currently running across campus to my class.” You laughed at him, receiving an annoyed scoff from him.

“I just wanted to tell you I'm leaving now, I should probably be there just after lunch,” you said.

“That’s amazing, I’m sorry you’ve got to drive all that way alone though.” You shook your head, once again forgetting that he couldn’t see you.

“It’s okay, but I should let you get back to being late for your class, good luck,” you said.

“Thanks, very funny, I'll see you when you get here,” he said. You could practically hear the smile in his voice, even over his dog-like panting.

“See you later.” You hung up with a small squeal, a small smile staying glued on your face, even well into the drive after the conversation had ended.

You had to admit, the car ride was lonely by yourself, but it was also so worth it for Tom. It’d only been, not even two weeks, but you missed him greatly already and from what you’d heard from him, he felt exactly the same.

The silence in your car was filled with the sound of your different playlists playing through the speakers. Some were just from random playlists, others from the playlist that you and Tom seemed to most enjoy together.

You could feel your heart starting to beat faster, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you got closer and closer to your destination.

You sent him a quick text when you hit traffic just outside of the campus, telling him you’d be about 10 more minutes. You just received a simple smiley face in response. You and Tom both had your locations on for each other anyway, so he’d know when you arrived. It’d become a promise that you always would after one night when you’d been out with your friends getting drunk, and you’d gone a little bit too far.

You could barely even stand straight anymore, having already forgotten about a few drunken messages you’d sent to Tom before the last shot you’d taken. You were drawn out of your daze when you felt your phone buzzing against your leg, seeing Tom’s contact on your screen. You squealed like a little girl, answering his call with a slurred yell of his name.

“Where are you, baby?” he asked, concern laced all through the tone of his voice.

“ ‘M having fun with m-my-” he heard you huff, “I can’t find them.”

Tom’s eyes widened at the thought of you being alone and drunk in now an unknown location. He cursed under his breath, trying to think of a reasonable thing to do.

“Can you turn your location on for me, Y/N?”

You hummed, pulling the phone away from your ear. You tried to steady your vision, telling Tom that the room was spinning. It made things ten times more difficult, but you eventually managed to do it, alerting Tom with a cheer.

“I did it, Tommy,” you said, “Are you proud of me?” you sounded like a scared child, desperate to receive Tom’s validation.

“So proud of you, angel.”

Tom pulled up your location on his phone, noticing you were at a bar. He wasn’t sure how you’d managed to successfully get in underage, being only 17, but you managed.

“Can you stay where you are for me?” You nodded your head before realising he couldn’t see you. You giggled to yourself quietly before mumbling a quiet yes. Tom offered to stay on the phone with you but you told him you needed the bathroom, feeling as though you were going to throw up.

When Tom arrived, he had to ask the bouncer if he’d seen you, showing him a picture. The large man motioned to where you were sitting on the curb by yourself, shivering from the cold hitting your bare arms. He bent down beside you, reaching out to place his hand on your arm, shocked by how cold you were.

“Tommy,” you gushed, wrapping your arms around his neck, “By the way, I didn’t throw up,” you stated, almost as if you were proud of that achievement.

“That’s good, but let’s get you home.” He pulled off his jacket to wrap around your shoulders, helping you up off of the floor and guiding you to his car. You were heavily drunk but you weren’t completely out of it, so when Tom drove past your house, you began to whine at him.

“I’m not letting your parents see you like this, they’ll kill me and then you.”

You huffed like a child. “You’re too pretty to die.” Tom laughed, reaching over to grab your hand and press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Yeah?” “Yeah,” you sighed dreamily.

Tom helped you inside his house, making sure to avoid any creaks in the floorboards so he wouldn’t wake his family. He guided you up to his room and then started the process of being a good boyfriend. No matter how tired you were, he helped you change into some of his clothes, helped to take off your makeup and tied your hair up and then made you brush your teeth by yourself, even when you complained.

The last move was getting you under the covers off his bed, seeing you pass out almost as soon as your head hit the pillow. “Goodnight angel, you’re going to have a horrible hangover tomorrow.”

And true to Tom’s word, you woke up the next morning in his bed and clothes, your head pounding and only a faint memory of the previous night. Tom strutted into his room clad in only a pair of plain black joggers, his abdomen on full show.

“Ah, you’re finally awake.” He placed a glass of water and two pills down on the nightstand beside you, telling you to drink up so you could feel better. He filled you in on all the basic details and you just wanted his, ridiculously comfy bed, to swallow you whole.

“Maybe we should keep each other’s locations on from now on,” Tom suggested. You nodded, rubbing your side head and leaning into him. “I think that’d be a good idea.”

That’s how he knew you’d arrived in the campus car park. You had barely even stepped out of the car when he practically tackled you in a hug, taking you off-guard. You laughed loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling your nose into his cheek.

“I'm so glad you’re here,” he said, squeezing you tightly. You couldn’t push away your grin, your heart feeling like it was going to explode as you held your boy in your arms.

“I missed you bub,” you whispered, pulling back to kiss him. Your lips molded together perfectly, the two of you feeling as though you were complete again.

You weren’t sure you’d ever shared a kiss like this with Tom, and the two of you had shared lots of kisses. This one was different though, it felt like every moment of emotion from missing his person these past two weeks was being poured into this kiss and you loved it.

“Oi, Holland, cool it with the pda.” Tom turned his head, spotting one of the lads from his drama class and suddenly feeling embarrassed. You tried to turn his head to kiss you again, searching for his lips with yours and ignoring the obvious moron that interrupted you, but then huffing when he denied you. You followed his gaze, seeing a boy standing a few feet away.

“Who’s that?” You watched as he flipped him off jokingly, making some comment about how he at least had a girlfriend.

“That's Tuwaine, he’s in my drama class, met him the other day.” You nodded, smiling before turning back to look at your boyfriend.

“So, are you gonna show me to your dorm, or do we have to stay out in the cold?” you teased. He laughed, helping you take the bag you packed out of the back of your car and offering to carry it for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you commented.

“That I am,” he said, bowing playfully. You shared another round of laughter before you silently decided you really should get out of the cold weather.

“Lead the way, handsome.” He laced your fingers together, leading you in the direction of his building. You walked slowly, giving you both a chance to catch up. Over the small journey you’d shuffled closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder and wrapping your other hand around his arm.

“Right in here,” he said, guiding you through the door of his building. His hand resting comfortably on the small of your back. He unlocked the door to his room, opening it and like the gentleman he claimed he was, let you go first.

The two of you entered his dorm room, Tom holding out his arms and muttering a quiet ‘voila,’ making a show of it. You giggled at his behaviour, humming as you looked around at the messy and pretty much bare room.

“Very nice, it practically screams boy,” you pointed out, sending him a tormenting smile.

“Hey, hey, be nice.” He pointed his finger at you, scolding you teasingly.

“I’m always nice, whatever do you mean?” you smirked, playing dumb. He tossed your bag on his bed and pulled you in by your waist, he kissed you again, more passionate this time now it was without the interruption of the public eye. You gently pushed on his chest, ignoring his whine when he tried to follow your lips again, just as you had done earlier.

“I came here to help you decorate, not to sleep with you.” Tom rolled his eyes.

“We could do both,” he muttered. You tossed one of his pillows at him, seeing him raise his hands in defense.

You punched his shoulder lightly, kissing him quickly.

“Alright, let’s decorate,” you said, clapping your hands in front of you. Tom pulled out the boxes he had yet to unpack from his small wardrobe, handing you one that had pictures in it.

“Where do you want these?” you asked. He motioned to the wall next to his desk.

“Right there, so I can stare at your beautiful face when I don’t want to do my school work.” You giggled, nodding your head.

“Alright then, can’t argue with that.” You started pulling pictures out of the box, some of you two together, some of his family.

“Do you remember this?” you asked, holding one of the pictures of you both between the tips of your fingers. It was you and Tom at his family’s cabin in France, the one where they go skiing almost every year. You were both in big coats and snow trousers, trying to keep warm on the snowy mountain. You both had your ski goggles resting on your head, the two of you grinning widely. “Yeah, I do, he smiled, “That was such a great trip.”

“That reminds me, my mums been asking about if you’ll come again with us this year.” You smiled at the thought of Nikki thinking about you and wanting you to be around her family.

“I'd love to, I always have so much fun there,” you said, trying to be heartfelt and honest.

“Me too,” he winked, referring to the separate ‘fun’ you two always have right after midnight on new year's day, just to start the year off right.

“Behave,” you warned, pointing your finger at him.

“When's your roommate coming back?” you asked, changing the topic while stretching to put up another one of his pictures. He laughed, pressing his solid front to your back, cheekily nibbling on your neck.

“Why, something on your mind?” he asked, hinting at something else, squeezing your waist underneath his hands.

“No, stop that,” you scolded playfully, shaking your head at your boyfriend. “Just wanted to know if he’d have an issue with me being here, that’s all.” Tom hummed.

“He said he’d be fine with you being here, in his words ‘as long as he doesn’t have to hear us fuck,’ so.” You laughed, nodding your head.

“Well, he won’t have to worry about that,” you said, a cheeky smile on your lips. Tom pouted, however accepting your kiss as apology.

You spent the next few hours unpacking Tom's things, focusing more on hanging up some of his clothes on the racks he had, rather than the pictures you were doing earlier. At some point you did steal one of his hoodies, pulling it over your head just to have a sense of him close to you, even if he was already in the room with you, receiving the comment of, “Just can’t stand to be away from me, huh?” tugging at the material of the pink hoodie. “Shut up.”

After it went dark, you and Tom put off the rest of the decorating until tomorrow, not that there was much left to do anyway. You agreed on just watching movies for the rest of the night, calling for pizza. He got some extra too, to thank his roommate for letting you stay.

You spent what felt like forever searching for a film on your boyfriend’s laptop, finally settling on one that you and Tom both thought sounded good. The two of you sat together on his bed, your legs in his lap and his hand rubbing the scratchy fabric of your jeans.

“I’m starving,” you whined, burying your head in Tom's chest. Your stomach growled just to prove your point, making Tom laugh.

“It'll be here soon,” he reassured. A knock on the door made both of your heads perk up.

“That was good timing,” you joked. Tom jumped up from his bed, pulling some cash out of his wallet and opening the dorm door.

He frowned slightly when he saw his roommate.

“Forgot my key, sorry,” Tom nodded, seeing your face drop knowing you had to wait even longer for your food. “Someone did hand me this on the way in though, said it was for our room.” He held up 2 pizzas, a cheer coming from you that made Tom laugh. He handed them both to Tom. Tom however handed you one of the boxes, then the other one to the blonde male, who looked at him confused.

“This is actually for you.” He handed him the box of pizza, receiving a rather shocked thank you. “Just a thank you for letting Y/N stay,” he explained.

“This is Y/N by the way, Y/N this is Harrison,” he introduced. You smiled, waving to the blonde.

“You can join us if you’d like, we’re just watching a film,” you offered, just trying to be polite.

“No it’s okay, I’ll let you enjoy your time together, but thank you.” Tom smiled before making his way back over to you, climbing back into his bed behind you. He kissed your head, wrapping his arm around your waist and getting himself comfortable. Harrison put in his own set of headphones, watching something on his computer.

The movie dragged on, finding it growing harder and harder to keep your focus on it.

“Are you tired?” he asked. You hummed, turning your face over your shoulder to look at your boyfriend.

“We can finish the movie tomorrow,” he said. You thanked him, nuzzling your face in his chest and wrapping your arm around his stomach.

“Get ready for bed, I’ll pack this all away,” he said, motioning to the food and things on his bed and nightstand.

“Okay,” you mumbled, begrudgingly letting go of him and climbing out of his bed. You stretched your arms, your shirt riding up slightly and exposing the bottom of your stomach. Tom playfully jabbed you, making you squeal at the ticklish feeling.

“Stop,” you whined, slapping his hand away, pouting as he laughed at you. Tom kissed all over your face until you smiled, getting rid of your pout.

You grabbed your bag off of the floor, sticking your tongue out at your boyfriend childishly. You headed to the attached bathroom to change. You changed out of your current outfit, putting on some comfortable shorts to sleep in that you’d brought with you and then leaving on Tom's hoodie that you stole earlier. You put your hair up, just so it wouldn’t get in your face, tying it in a messy ponytail at the crown of your head.

“Y/N, are you decent?” Tom asked. You furrowed your eyebrows, opening the door for him.

“What’s up?” you asked, pulling your makeup remover out of your bag.

“I need to brush my teeth,” he said. You nodded, shifting to give him enough room by the sink as you began to take off your makeup. He watched you like a hawk the entire time, following your hand movements with every gentle swipe of the cotton pad on your face.

“What are you looking at?” you asked, causing him to snap out of his slight, dreamy daze.

“You’re just so pretty.” You huffed, shoving his shoulder.

“Stop being such a sap,” you commented.

“Only for you,” he teased, sending you a wink through the mirror.

Halfway through him brushing his own teeth, you began to brush yours. Playfully bouncing your hip against his own to push him out of the way of the sink. He stumbled and you let out a muffled giggle, watching him glare at you.

“Oh it’s on, I'll get you back,” he promised, receiving a teasing ‘oo’ from you.

After spitting in the sink, he flashed you a toothy grin through the mirror, one that made you giggle. Now that he had nothing left to do, he moved over to start bothering you, wrapping his arms around your waist and gently prodding your stomach to try and tickle you and get you to laugh.

“Tom,” you scolded, trying to focus on brushing your teeth.

“Hurry up, I wanna go to bed,” he whined, sounding almost like a pouty child. You finished up brushing your teeth, holding your hair back as you spit your toothpaste into the sink.

You wiped your mouth with the towel and then turned to Tom with a smile. He playfully pinched your cheeks, telling you you looked cute.

“Okay, I’m done,” you said, slapping his hands away. He placed his hand on the small of your back, guiding you out of the bathroom.

Upon entering his room again, you saw that he’d actually cleaned up his mess for once, receiving a proud, but sarcastic, clap from you. He caught on, telling you to behave.

“Come on, get in.” He pointed to his bed, letting you get in first. His bed was barely bigger than a single, so the two of you had to cramp together, not that either of you would ever complain. He climbed in after you did, pulling you back into his chest and burying his face in your hair.

“You smell really good.” You giggled tiredly at his comment, eyes fluttering shut.

“Thank you bubba, now go to sleep.” He turned off the light above his head, kissing your neck and closing his eyes.

“Goodnight,” he mumbled.

“G’night Tommy.”

You had to admit to him, his bed was almost as comfy as sleeping on a cloud- not that you’d know what that’s like, but still. It was possibly the best night's sleep you’d had in months, and you weren’t sure if it was because of the bed or because you were back in Tom’s strong arms. When you woke up though you were alone in the bed, looking around to find you were alone in the room too, Harrison’s bed already having been neatly made.

The door opened right on time and Tom strolled in. He noticed you were awake and flashed you one of his charming smiles.

“Good morning,” he greeted. You stretched your arms above your head, making a soft noise that almost made Tom melt in his converse.

“Morning,” you smiled, pulling his covers up so they were right underneath your chin. Tom thought you looked so precious, pulling out his phone to snap a quick picture of you, even after you protested against it.

He leaned down, kissing you gently.

“I went and got us some breakfast.” You pushed yourself into a sitting position, thanking him quietly. You ate together, making happy conversation. Tom asked about how you slept and also admitted he slept better with you in his arms. He basically forced you out of bed, after you refused to leave the warmth.

“Let’s finish decorating and then we have the rest of the day to spend together, doing whatever you want,” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

The rest of the weekend after that went by quicker than you would’ve liked. It felt like only hours before Tom was walking you to your car, ready to say goodbye to you again.

“I hate this,” you whined.

“Me too,” he mumbled. “I'll come and see you soon though, I promise,” he said, squeezing you tightly before opening your car door for you.

“Such a gentleman,” you teased, referencing the moment when you arrived a few days ago, kissing his lips.

“I’ll see you as soon as I can,” he repeated.

“I love you,” you muttered, running your fingers through his untamed curls.

“I love you more.” He kissed you one more time. You climbed into your car, waving to him through the window as you started up the engine. You sighed as you drove out of the gates of the campus, not really ready to start your long journey back to your own.

»»——⍟——««

Friday, 18th November

Unluckily for you and Tom, ‘soon’ ended up being almost a whole two months later. Tom was so busy with schoolwork that just kept piling up and by the time he was free, you were busy. The cycle kept repeating and it was horrible. You missed your boyfriend greatly and you were hoping he missed you just as much as he said he did.

Tom had arrived at your campus early in the morning, at a time you wished you didn’t have to be awake, just so he could spend longer with you. At least you could appreciate the gesture, even if you were losing out on sleep.

“And this is where the magic happens,” you said, opening the door to your dorm and guiding him in. He chuckled, kissing your head.

“What kind of magic?” he asked, an underlying dirty meaning to his question.

“Shut up.” you flushed.

“I can’t believe I haven’t been able to touch you in almost two months,” he whined, his boyish attitude dissolving and being replaced by your whiny, adorable boyfriend, nuzzling his face in your neck.

“I know,” you said, getting completely distracted by running your fingers through the overgrown curls that were peeking out from underneath his cap. You thought it was adorable, but you knew he’d grow to hate it soon enough. “You need a haircut,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple.

“I think I like it longer,” he said as you pulled off his cap, tugging at the long strands of dark hair. Tom stared at you as you did so, watching how fascinated you seemed to be with his hair. He couldn’t help leaning in, connecting his lips with yours.

“Uh-uh, not now,” you told him. “Later, baby.”

He huffed, pulling your lip between his teeth, running his hands up and down your body.

“Come on, you can decide if you like my hair longer.” His sentence had an underlying tone of lust to it, just like his earlier comment had too, trying to hint at a very non-pg act the two of you could be doing right now.

“Nope, later though, I promise.” He whined, throwing his head back. You bit back a grin, taking in the way his jaw looked sharp and very much attractive from this angle.

“Well, get dressed handsome, I’m taking you to dinner.” He lowered his head and looked at you with a smile, kissing you softly. “Are you trying to woo me, now?”

“Of course, now put on something pretty and let’s go, I need my arm candy.” You slapped his butt playfully, moving over to your wardrobe to pull out a slightly raunchy dress. Tom recognised the fabric instantly, one he’d seen time and time again that made him go wild.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” he asked, in a state of shock just imagining you in the material.

“Got a problem with that, Holland?” you asked. He rapidly shook his head, unsure if you were joking or not. “Good, now if you don’t mind, I’m going to go change.” You made your way into your bathroom, changing into the risky dress without any more interruptions from your boyfriend. 

You took your time getting ready, wanting to make Tom wait just to build up even more anticipation.

“Y/N, hurry up,” he whined. “I want to see you, already,” he complained, whining like a child on Christmas who didn’t get the toy they wanted. You opened the bathroom door slowly, leaning against the frame, staring at him innocently.

“Oh wow, you look incredible,” he said, getting up from his seat on your bed to shuffle over to you, sliding his hands around your waist. You made eye contact with him through the mirror, giving him a seductive smile that had his hands wandering around your body.

“How is my girlfriend so attractive?” he asked. You giggled, leaning back into his touch.

“We need to go, we don’t want to be late,” you said, dodging having to respond to the compliment that made you feel all warm inside, taking his hand and your purse and leading him out of the door.

Tom was in awe of the restaurant when you arrived, he didn’t realise you were taking him somewhere this fancy. “This place is really nice,” Tom said, looking around the restaurant. His hand clinged to your waist nervously as you told the hostess about your reservation. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been somewhere this nice that hadn’t been some sort of family function, so he felt like royalty right now.

“Are you trying to bankrupt me?” he asked, poking your stomach. You slapped his hand away, turning your attention back to the woman.

“This is my treat, come on.” You snapped him out of his daze, guiding him with you to your table. He pulled your chair out for you, kissing your head and almost daring you to make the gentleman joke again.

“You know I’m not letting you pay for this, right?” he asked. You stared at him with a furrowed brow. “Why not?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m visiting you, let me spoil my girl.” He changed the topic of conversation before you got the chance to object.

“I’m so glad we got to do this,” he said. You shook your head, a grin growing on your face. You couldn’t lie though, you were happy to see him in real life again.

“Me too, I know we say this like every day,” you laughed. “But I really missed you Tom.” 

He leaned over the table, kissing you gently before sitting back down in his own seat. You went straight for and picked up the drinks menu, making Tom laugh and shake his head. “Already on the alcohol.” 

“Oh hush.” You scanned the list of wines, finding one that you and Tom had purchased before on a special occasion. You pointed to the name, seeing the cheeky grin spread across his face.

“I remember that night,” he chuckled. “How many rounds- I’m sorry I mean bottles, did we have that night?” Your jaw dropped, giggling at his false cover up. You shook your head.

“We’re in public, stop being inappropriate,” you warned. He shot you a wink, making your whole body flush for the thousandth time since he’d got here this morning.

“Hi, are you ready to order?” the waitress asked, glancing between you two and interrupting your reminiscence into the past. Tom looked up at her with a smile, her eyes widening.

“Could we just have a bottle of red wine for now, please,” he pointed to the one you meant. She nodded, trying to give him a flirty smile that made you snicker. She glared at you, timidly touching Tom’s shoulder before walking away.

“What was that?” you asked, a playful smirk that told Tom you weren’t mad at him.

“You can’t blame me, I’m just that irresistible.”

Her antics continued for most of the night, and you were growing more and more frustrated with how she was blatantly ignoring you to flirt with your boyfriend.

“If she flirts with you one more time, I won’t hesitate to knock over my wine on her,” you threatened, seeing Tom’s lips twitch into a smile. 

“Are you jealous?” he asked, intertwining your fingers on the table. He raised his free hand in defense when you glared at him. 

“Shut up.” You kicked him gently as a warning, seeing the wince cross Tom’s face.

“But not the red wine, you know that’ll stain,” he continued to tease, sarcasm lacing his words. You huffed, flipping him off. Tom didn’t let up on teasing you about your spontaneous hatred for the waitress all night. When she brought out your food he couldn’t help but make a few sly comments in response to her flirting.

“Do you want to try some?” he asked, holding his fork to you. He was trying to make up for pissing you off. You nodded, taking the food off of his fork with a hum.

“That’s really good.” He nodded, taking a sip of his wine. 

“Do you want to try some of mine?” You offered, doing the same for him as he’d done for you. He took it with a thank you, telling you he really liked it. Your food didn’t last long, you were both starving and it was exceptionally good.

You and Tom grew more and more tipsy as the night went on. You began to flirt with him some more too. You’d forgotten how much you enjoyed spending time with Tom.

“Oh here she comes,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. Tom laughed, squeezing your hand in his.

“Do you need anything else?” she asked, her flirty gaze focused on Tom. You rolled your eyes, teasing your heel up his thigh under the table as you sipped on your drink. He coughed nervously, trying to ignore how close your foot was to his crotch.

“C-can we get another bottle of wine, please?” She nodded, leaving you both as you were.

“Spoiling me today are we?” you teased. He laughed, nodding his head. “Always, gorgeous.”

After your second bottle you didn’t waste much more time at the restaurant after paying the rather pricey bill, calling a taxi to take you back to the campus.

You could barely even stand straight by the time you were pushed up against your dorm room door. Your hands were working on unlocking it, struggling with the way his lips were attacking your neck and shoulders. You still weren’t wasted, but you could definitely feel the alcohol in your system, making everything feel lighter and Tom’s touch even more amplified than normal.

“So, when’s your roommate coming back?” he joked. You giggled quietly, throwing your jacket somewhere in the room. 

“Very funny, now shut up and just get in my bed.” He laughed loudly, picking you up by your thighs. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grinning up at him when he dropped you back on your bed. “Get ready for the night of your life,” he whispered, attaching his lips to your neck.

“I’ve been ready.” 

»»——⍟——««

Wednesday, 3rd April

As the months went by, the visits became less frequent, finding it increasingly more difficult to find time to actually physically go and see each other. Rather than at least once every two weeks, it started to be once in a while, and then eventually you wouldn’t see each other until the trip over Easter break. 

You both tried to call as much as you could, but you eventually started missing each other's calls more and more. It got to the point where you could not talk to each other for a minimum of 3 days, with the exception of a quick text in a morning or just before you went to sleep and the occasional voicemail.

It felt like everyday one of you was waking up to the notification of a missed call on your phone, followed by the message you’d received a voicemail. They all went the same way, a greeting, making some kind of light hearted joke that you’d manage to plan badly again, a simple i love you and then a call me when you get this.

When Easter time finally rolled around, painfully slowly, you and Tom were able to organise a time when the both of you would be free so you could plan the trip you wanted to take together.

The familiar sound of your ringtone blared through your dorm room, a small smile creeping onto your lips when you saw Tom’s contact picture lighting up your phone. The picture was an old one you’d taken of his a few years ago, reminding you that you should probably update it soon with a more recent one, that is if you had one.

“Hey, Tom,” you said, greeting him sweetly. You got a hello back, followed by a rather uncomfortable silence that the two of you had never experienced before. “So, um, where are you thinking we should go?” 

The man on the other end was biting his lip nervously, not sure if you’d like the sound of his idea or not, but this also had never happened before, so what was he supposed to do? He always came up with ideas you loved.

“I was thinking we could go to this cabin I found, really pretty view, um-“ He hated that he was unable to see your face right now, not able to see what kind of reaction you were giving off to his words. “You can say no of course, but I thought it’d be nice.” His voice trailed off towards the end and he spoke much quieter, almost like he was scared to hear your answer.

“That sounds really nice. I’d love to.” You could hear him let out a sigh of relief, the man feeling as though a weight had been lifted off of his chest.

“Great. I’ll make sure to call the place.” “I can’t wait.” 

When the day of your trip rolled around you were nervous. You hadn’t seen your boyfriend in forever and you weren’t sure if things were automatically going to jump back to the way they’d been, even if you were hoping they were.

Your eyes landed on Tom with a smile, the man opening his arms to you for a hug. You had no problem practically jumping at him, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly while his snaked around your waist to hold your body close.

“I missed you, so much,” he whispered, his nose buried in your neck to take you all in. You agreed silently, pulling back to be able to press your lips onto his sweetly, sharing your first kiss in months.

Tom had been generous enough to pick you up from your campus and then drive you both down to the cabin, rather than you having to drive yourself. The car ride was full of the stories you hadn’t been able to tell each other yet, filling what would’ve been an awkward silence.

You were more than happy to be back with him, and little did you know he felt the exact same.

However, it felt like for the first few days of the week that you weren’t really there. Of course you and Tom were both physically there but it felt like you were sending longing gazes and looks from a distance rather than really feeling that natural spark between you both.

You’d be sitting on the couch in the cabin, both of you in silence as you watched any random movie that played on the TV in front of you. Normally the two of you would be making constant unnecessary commentary throughout the duration, but here you were, sitting stiffly next to your boyfriend.

“What is wrong with us?” Tom asked. You turned your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the pretty boy who was staring right back at you with those puppy eyes. 

“What do you mean?” you asked. You had an idea that he was talking about the atmosphere between you both.

“This is so awkward, we- we’re usually so natural and us,” he complained. You sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder with the first display of affection that night.

“Yeah, I know. We’re probably just out of practice, right?” you suggested. You didn’t want to believe that your relationship could be going downhill, you were Y/N and Tom, that couldn’t possibly happen. “We’ve got this Tom, we’re still us.” 

That short conversation seemed to have worked. Over the next few days, and the last few remaining days of your trip, you and Tom were practically back to your normal ways. Your affection and love was able to come naturally again, calming all your racing thoughts about the pair of you drifting apart.

Unlike the past few days, now you’d be in the kitchen cooking, laughing and making jokes while having mini food fights. Or you’d be getting ready for bed, brushing your teeth when Tom would wrap his arms around you from behind and start placing kisses up and down your neck, making you flush and giggle sweetly. You spent your mornings sharing sweet words and kisses that made you completely weak for the man, and even thinking about giving it up again for who knows how long brought you physical sadness.

When it came to the time you had to leave you were obviously sad, more than you thought you’d be when this week began. You and Tom had almost managed to rebuild your relationship to the strength it once was, so now it was hurting just as much as the first time he left on that Friday in September.

He drove you back to your campus in mainly silence, the two of you keeping your fingers interlocked while he drove, soft music playing over the radio in the background. 

“How much longer?” you asked, hoping to have at least a little longer with him. He flashed you a small smile. “Under twenty minutes.” 

You sighed, feeling him squeeze your hand in response while his eyes stayed fixated on the road.

In a very short twenty minutes Tom was pulling into the College, parking quickly and turning off the car. The two of you just sat there for a minute, not saying anything but at the same time saying everything that needed to be said.

“Well, I guess this is it,” you said, turning to him with a sad smile. He nodded his head, lifting your hand from where it rested in your lap to place a gentle kiss on the back of it.

“‘m gonna miss you,” he whispered, leaning forward to rest his forehead comfortably against yours. You hummed, quickly pecking his lips.

“Don’t forget to call me, Holland,” you warned, pointing your finger at him playfully.

“Wouldn’t even dream of it.”

»»——⍟——««

Sunday, 29th May

By the time June was about to roll around you hadn’t seen Tom in almost two months.

He never did call, and the calls you left for him only ended up being missed. Everything had gone back to the way it was before. Almost two whole months. You still had faith in him, and almost everyday you’d wait to see if he’d call. Most of your calls to him would go straight to voicemail, so you simply gave up on putting in the effort.

It was the same routine everyday. Wake up, go to class, wait for Tom’s call, give up. Today was slightly different because you had plans for the night. You tried to wait as long as you could in your dorm to see if Tom would call, but when the clock hit six you gave up.

Some girls you’d begun to be friends with from your History class had invited you to a party they were going to, so to take your mind off your boyfriend not calling, you agreed to go. You did some light makeup, curling your hair like you knew Tom liked, then slipped on a black dress that would’ve made him drool.

You snapped a few pictures, some of just your face but then others of you in your dress too, debating on whether or not you wanted to post them to your account where Tom would definitely see. 

After staring at them for probably way too long, you gave in and did it anyway. You smiled as your friends gave nice comments, waiting to see absolutely anything from your boyfriend.

A sudden knock on your dorm door startled you away from your entrancement with your phone, opening it to see your new friends with large smiles. They held up a bottle of alcohol that would no doubt be for pre-drinks, making you laugh. You ignored their attempts at trying to get you to do a shot, telling them you were waiting on something from Tom. 

“Are you ready to go yet?” one of them asked. You sighed sadly and nodded.

“Let me just grab my purse,” you said, you walked back over to your bed, checking your phone one last time with a sigh, still nothing. 

“Alright, let’s go.” You smiled, closing your door behind you and heading off to the party to forget. You laughed together along the way, internally grateful for them trying to take your mind off your boyfriend.

But even in the party atmosphere, after they’d gone to get drinks or find someone to hook up with, you struggled to tear your eyes away from your phone. 

“Y/N, I don’t want to see this phone again,” Lainey said, holding two drinks in her hands. You were guessing she was already tipsy.

“Hey, fuck him okay? He’s the one missing out.” You giggled, thanking her and nodding. You put your phone in your bag out of sight and took the drink from her outstretched hand.

“Now, let’s party,” she announced, dragging you into the crowd of people where you’d end up being for the remainder of the night.

When you finally got back to your dorm after the party, it was the first time you checked your phone in hours. You saw a couple missed calls from Tom, as well as a voicemail. Your excitement from the night faded and your heart clenched, frowning that you’d missed him again. Even when you were waiting for any sign of contact from him, you weren’t expecting him to call you today and now you just felt guilty for mentally cursing him out earlier on.

You played the voicemail on speaker as you were taking your makeup off. The sound of Tom’s voice still made you feel all warm inside, even when you were mad at him, and you were addicted to the feeling.

“Hi beautiful, looks like I missed you again.” He laughed. “We really need to get better time management.” You nodded your head with a smile, agreeing. “I just wanted to hear your voice, I had a pretty shitty day and uh, yeah,” he paused. After hearing that you were able to hear the obvious signs of sadness lingering in his tone. “I saw your post by the way, you looked gorgeous, I hope wherever you went you had fun.” It was quiet for a few seconds.

“Call me when you get this, I love you.” 

Your heart ached, you didn’t know he’d had such a bad day. You planned on calling him back straight away, but upon noticing the time and realising that at three in the morning Tom would most likely be asleep, especially due to him having classes in the morning, you didn’t have much faith in him answering.

Just as you suspected, the call almost straight away went to voicemail, telling you to leave your message after the beep.

“Hey Tom, I’m so sorry I missed your call,” you started. “I-I was at this party and just got so caught up in it all, I didn’t even see my phone ring,” you paused, the line going silent again.

You knew when he listened to this voicemail that he’d hear how happy you sounded talking about the party. For now you knew you needed to say something else before the line cut you off.

“Well, I’m really sorry your day was bad. Call me back, I want to hear what happened, ‘nd know what I can do,” you told him. “I love you tom.”

Your eyes wouldn’t let you stay awake much longer after that. Letting you change into comfier clothes before you passed out for the night.

The next morning was a Monday, and you had absolutely nothing to do all day due to having no classes. You woke up earlier than you would’ve liked, having a quick snack for breakfast and then climbing back into your warm bed.

You pulled out one of the books Tom had bought you over Christmas, smiling as you traced the hardback cover. You could still vividly remember how happy you were the moment he’d given it to you.

“So I know I already got you something,” he stated, grabbing the wrapped book from out of his suitcase, “but I also know how much you’ve been wanting this.”

He placed the present in your hands. You thought it felt quite heavy, beginning to tear away the wrapping paper until the mystery was revealed. Your eyes widened as you read the front cover, over and over, just to make sure your eyes weren’t deceiving you. It was the same book that you’d been trying to find since its release, however it’d been sold out everywhere and you’d complained to your boyfriend countless times.

“Tom, oh my god,” you gasped, staring at him in shock, “How did you get this?”

“I have my ways.” His lips curved into a smirk and you pulled him into a tight hug, practically suffocating him.

“Thank you, you angel.” You kissed him softly, but it was a kiss that was filled with so much passion and adoration that it made your head spin. “You’re perfect.”

“I’m guessing this means you like it?” he teased. You rapidly nodded your head, even if he was being sarcastic.

“I adore you.”

You were engrossed with reading it for the next hour or so, a soft smile on your face as you got lost in the storyline. It was arguably unlike anything you’d ever read and you absolutely loved it.

The loud, blaring noise of your ringtone filled the silence in your room, making your heart leap, alerting you of an incoming phone call. You reached over to your nightstand, picking it up and glancing at the caller ID.

Seeing Tom’s name splayed across the screen made you smile, bringing the phone up to your ear after answering.

“Hi Tommy, I wasn’t expecting to hear from you today,” you said, smile wide as you answered the call. “I was just reading the book you got me for that one Christmas, d’you remember?” You heard him clear his throat, taking a deep breath before he spoke.

“I think we should talk.” Your heart dropped, smile falling from your face, putting down your book and sitting up straighter because he definitely didn’t sound happy.

“What?” you asked, following with a nervous laugh. It probably wasn’t what you thought it was right? It was just a harmless phone call. “Where is this coming from?”

Tom felt vulnerable. He was never one who was amazing at having deep conversations where he’d wear his heart on his sleeve. And he was positively in love with you, so this was torture. “I never talk to you anymore- We never talk anymore. You’re always out having fun and I-I feel like you don’t want to be with me now.” You frowned, tears beginning to cloud your eyes at his confession. You weren’t even aware he felt like that until now. You were glad he’d told you, but your heart ached at the idea of you making him feel like this unintentionally.

“Tom, I love you, with my whole heart and I-“ You heard his shaky breath and quiet sniffle down the phone line, your heart breaking at the sign he’d been crying- or maybe even still was. “Tom.” 

“No, I, it’s breaking my heart Y/N,” he cleared his throat. “I just-“ he stopped talking, sighing loudly. He was starting to get frustrated with himself. He didn’t know how to confess his feelings and it felt to him as though he was making it harder. 

You weren’t able to process what was happening right now. Your thoughts were running wild and you were scared to death that he was about to break your heart, something he promised he wouldn’t do when you started dating. As cliche as it sounds, you thought he was it for you. You weren’t able to picture anyone else in your life besides Tom, and even though you were young, you were certain this would be endgame.

You were crying now too, tears racing down your cheeks, dripping from your chin to your lap as you sniffled. You whimpered his name into the phone, prepared to fix this and fight for your relationship, you couldn’t lose him like this, not this easy. Part of you was hurting for him, you felt utter sympathy for what you’d been putting him through, you wish he’d told you sooner so you could’ve tried harder. But, another part of you was angry at him, for springing this onto you so suddenly, for doing it over the phone and for being so selfish.

“What are you saying?” you asked, your voice coming out weak and filled with obvious desperation. “Tom, please, I can’t lose you.”

There was a few moments of silence. A few hours away from you Tom was sitting alone in his dorm room. At least he thought he was alone. For the entirety of the phone call Harrison had been standing outside of their dorm room. He was about to enter when he heard Tom talking on the phone, not wanting to interrupt he decided to wait, but the course of the call clearly took a turn from the usual lovey-dovey conversations he overheard.

Tom had his knees pulled up to his chest, his head leaning back against the wall and his bottom lip tugged between his teeth as he played out all the things that could happen from now on in the call.

He was evidently stressed, tears streaked across his cheeks as he took shaky breaths to push down his sobs. “I-I think we should talk about this another time,” he said, the sound of a small sniffle following down the phone. You squeezed your eyes shut, more tears spilling down your cheeks.

You didn’t know what that meant. Did he want to break up? Did he want to fix things? When was another time? There were so many questions floating around unanswered and you wanted to scream at him for leaving things so open ended.

“I-I don’t understand. We can figure this out- Please.” Your voice broke towards the end, showing your pain through to the man who was struggling to hold back all of his emotions. 

He hated knowing he’d put you in pain but his own heart was hurting too, and it was almost like part of his resented you for that.

He gave up a little bit, deciding he couldn’t do this anymore, not today. “I’ll call you some other time Y/N. Goodbye.” You let out a sob as the line went silent. 

Tom, for one, hadn’t told you he loved you when ending the call, and two, he’d said goodbye. The one thing you promised that you wouldn’t say to each other while you were gone, a promise you made on the very first day he left. It was always, see you later, and now you didn’t know where you both stood.

When Harrison heard the call ended he took it as his chance to enter his room, only to find Tom with his head buried in his hands as he tried to muffle his heartbroken cries.

“Hey, man.” The brunette looked up nervously, furiously wiping his eyes and trying to pretend as though he hadn’t just been bawling his eyes out. “You okay?” he asked. 

Tom wasn’t an idiot. He knew he looked a mess, he knew Harrison noticed, and he didn’t particularly feel up to lying right now. He just needed a friend.

“No,” he answered honestly. Harrison frowned, taking a seat next to Tom on his bed. The two hadn’t been that close since becoming roommates, but were much closer than when they’d first met.

Harrison pulled Tom close to him in a friendly hug. He hadn’t quite been through a breakup so he didn’t know what to say to Tom to help him, but for Tom this was enough.

“Things will get better, I promise.” He shook his head, almost laughing at how ridiculous his roommate sounded right now.

“I don’t think they will. Not anymore.” 

»»——⍟——««

Thursday, 3rd June

It got to the point where you hadn’t heard from Tom in four days. You were almost sure it was over at this point if he didn’t call you soon. You’d tried calling him of course, left countless voicemails and texts, as well as the ones to wish him a happy birthday, something you were rather upset you missed.

You’d barely left your bed in days, it felt like you were too heartbroken to even move. Little did you know Tom was exactly the same. He’d overthought everything he’d done, refusing to speak to anyone but Harrison, who was only making sure he still ate and drank, meaning he missed lots of messages and calls on his birthday.

With a lot of persuading and guilt tripping from his roommate he finally decided to do something about it. “You need to talk to her, mate. Don’t let this ruin everything you have.” 

After that he showered for the first time in days, which Harrison was very grateful for, and got dressed and was ready to head out with one last burst of reassurance to himself.

When you heard the knock on your dorm door you didn’t even consider moving to see who it was, choosing instead to keep ignoring the world like you’d been doing for the last near week. You’d ignored pretty much everyone that had tried to see if you were still alive this week, messages from friends included.

It was only when the knocking became more urgent that you started to get frustrated. Normally after a few short minutes your friends would give up and just leave, but this only seemed to be carrying on.

You groaned, wiping your dried tears and pushing yourself out of bed begrudgingly. You didn’t care that you looked like a mess anymore, so you didn’t care that this person, whoever it was, was going to see you like this. 

You pulled open the door open rather angrily, your eyes widening in shock when you saw Tom standing there with a bag on his shoulder, looking almost as broken as you did, but possibly more cleaned up as he’d actually made an effort.

You didn’t know how to react at first. You didn’t know where the two of you currently stood and you didn’t want to push his boundaries, but seeing him standing there told you he was ready to fix this. When he flashed you a small smile you didn’t waste another second, nearly flinging yourself into his arms, almost crushing whatever it was he was holding.

“Oh, thank god,” you cried, wrapping your arms around his torso. You were scared he wouldn’t hug you back at first, confirming what you thought about your relationship truly being over. That wasn’t the case though. Tom wrapped his free arm around your shoulders, squeezing you tightly in his grasp, his hand drifting to the back of your head to keep you tight against him.

The two of you thrived being in each other’s touch again after so long without it, feeling as though your heart was finally mended again. 

You were reluctant to pull away. However, you unfortunately had to at some point. You led him inside your room, trying to quickly tidy at least a little bit of your mess that had collected over the past few days, even if that meant just making your bed for you both to sit on.

Tom set whatever had been in his hands down on your desk and then placed his bag on your floor before sitting down next to you on your bed, finally letting you see the mini cake he’d brought with him. You felt your heart flutter, the idea that he still wanted to be able to celebrate his birthday with you was too precious for you to handle.

You didn’t talk for a few minutes, messing with the sleeves on your jumper that was probably Tom’s as you waited for him to talk.

“Y/N,” he said, watching as you raised your head to look at him. “C’mere.”

He opened his arms for you, not feeling physically close enough to you as he wanted to be. He helped you crawl into his lap, your legs thrown over his while your face tucked into his neck. His hand rubbed up and down your back when he felt the way you were shaking slightly.

You were trying to string together the sentence of words you wanted to say to him but for some reason it was just too emotional for you.

“I-I was so scared Tommy,” you admitted. “I didn’t want us to be over,” you cried.

Tom hated seeing you like this, knowing that he’d been putting you through this for days without returning your calls or messages, even if he was no better on the other side of the phone. He shook his head, cupping your cheeks and making you look at him so he knew his words would sink in. He gently wiped away your tears, even if they just kept on coming.

“I would never, I promise,” he said. “I could never let you go that easily, not without trying to make it right. I’m sorry for putting you through that.” You smiled, for the first time in days.

“Good, you’re too hot to leave me,” you teased. He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “I’m sorry too, by the way. I didn’t know I was hurting you.” 

It fascinated you that all you needed was to apologise and pretty much all was forgiven. Things clearly weren’t going back to normal straight away but you were glad you were able to at a minimum not break up.

The whole moment felt like something from a movie. Tom was looking so lovingly into your eyes, silently pouring all his love for you in the simple action of holding you while his thumb stroked your cheekbone. You looked back with an exact reflection of his own emotions, your heart feeling as though it was mending everything that had broken it this past week.

Tom took the moment to lean down to kiss you, his lips curving into a frown when you turned your head for his lips to meet your cheek.

“Why can’t I kiss you?” he whined. He looked like a scolded puppy, his expression bringing a smile to your lips. Your expression changed though when you remembered why you didn’t let him kiss you, letting out a huff that twisted into a frown. Tom gently kissed away the crease that had formed between your brows, your face heating up at the simple gesture of love.

“You said goodbye,” you said, hitting his chest lightly. He cocked his head in confusion. “What?” he asked, innocence lacing his tone.

“On the phone. You said goodbye, and you told me we wouldn’t do that.” 

He could tell you were getting worked up again, his hands coming up to wipe any stray tears that fell. “Oh bub, I’m sorry. I’m an idiot for doing that over the phone,” he apologised, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear to keep it out of your eyes.

You smiled at him, letting him think you’d forgiven him enough to finally let him kiss your lips. He leaned in again, only inches away this time when you pulled your head back, giggling quietly to yourself as he let out an audible groan.

“Now what?” he asked.

“You need to tell me what that cake is for first,” you grinned. He rolled his eyes, reaching over as much as he could to grab it from your desk.

“I thought, seeing as we missed my birthday, we could celebrate together a little late.” 

Your heart melted as he confirmed your thoughts. You rested your head against his shoulder, letting out a sigh as you allowed your eyes to close for a few seconds.

“I missed you,” you mumbled. It was something the two of you said a lot, but even then every time was just as true as the next. He hummed quietly, kissing the top of your head lovingly.

“I know, I missed you too.” You gave in this time when he gently guided your chin so you were looking up at him, letting him press his lips to yours gently. Your hand snaked into the hair at the back of his head, keeping him close to you so he couldn’t pull away from you prematurely.

When your lips parted you rested your forehead against his, your eyes tracing the freckles that decorated the skin of his nose and cheeks. 

He lifted his hands up slightly, a motion to show the object he was holding. “So, how about some cake?” 

You let a soft giggle slip past your lips, nodding your head as you wiped away and excess tears that still remained on your face. Tom rummaged through a few things in his bag until he found some utensils to eat the cake with, making you laugh at how he’d come so prepared.

“Happy late birthday to me,” he said, taking a bite of the cake with a content look on his face. You hummed, watching him with complete adoration glittering in your eyes.

“Happy late birthday, Tommy.” 

The two of you ate in a comfortable silence, relishing in the fact you were back together again. Your mind was brought back to the bag you’d seen him bring, catching his attention long enough to ask him a question.

“Are you planning on staying?” you asked, trying to contain any excitement just in case you’d end up getting your hopes up. He nodded, trying to suppress his grin as he saw your eyes light up. “I want to take the time to make this right again, Y/N,” he admitted. “As long as it takes.” 

You agreed, pressing another kiss to his soft lips. “As long as it takes.” 

━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━

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#tom holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland fluff #tom holland oneshot #frat!tom

[aro-is-gay-af]

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader

As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.

Anyway!

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.

I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.

Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 7816 (!)

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.

Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.

You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.

What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.

So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.

You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.

At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.

You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.

You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.

Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.

You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.

You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.

At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.

When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.

The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.

You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.

You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.

For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.

By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.

"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.

When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.

At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.

However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.

As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.

A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.

You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.

You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.

When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.

You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?

You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.

Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.

“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…

“It was just for sport,” she tried again.

You snorted in annoyance.

“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”

As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.

You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.

“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.

“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.

You walked into the house with Bella.

“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.

“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.

“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.

While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.

“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.

“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.

It was your turn to roll the eyes.

“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”

Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.

Alice took no notice of you.

"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."

You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.

"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.

"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.

You grabbed her hand.

"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.

"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."

You snorted in disbelief.

"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.

“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.

“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.

You looked at Bella expectantly.

“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”

You heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.

After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.

“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.

“But Alice...” protested Bella.

“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.

“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.

“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.

When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?

One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.

⋎⋎⋎

On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.

“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.

Alice let out a sigh.

“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”

If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.

“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.

Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.

“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.

“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.

"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.

Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.

"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”

You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.

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This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?

You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!

“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.

Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:

“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”

He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.

“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.

Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.

“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.

Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.

When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.

You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.

“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.

When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.

“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.

As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.

“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”

You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.

“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.

Aro smiled to Edward.

“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.

“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.

You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.

“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.

“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.

You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.

“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.

“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.

Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.

"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.

"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.

Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.

“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.

“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.

“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.

Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.

"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”

The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.

“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.

You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.

Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.

"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.

Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.

"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.

"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?

“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.

“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.

“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”

“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”

You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.

Aro was smiling continuously.

“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”

You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.

“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.

Aro turned directly to Edward.

“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.

She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.

“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.

“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.

You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.

“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.

Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.

What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.

"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.

"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.

“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.

“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.

You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.

“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”

Bella looked devastated.

“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.

“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.

After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.

They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.

You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.

"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."

You took his arm gratefully.

"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.

Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.

"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.

"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.

Part 2 | Part 3

#volturi kings imagine #volturi squad #volturi coven #volturi kings x reader #aro volturi #caius volturi #marcus volturi #aro volturi x reader #caius volturi x reader #marcus volturi x reader #volturi kings #the twilight saga #twilight revival #the twilight series #volturi #original writing #original story #aro volturi imagine #caius volturi imagine #marcus volturi imagine #my writing #female reader #bella swan #edward cullen #alice cullen #jane volturi #alec volturi #felix volturi #demetri volturi #volturi kings x fem!reader

[sunrisefairy]

Cameras and crushes

Pairing: George Weasley x reader

Warning: Alcohol, small mention of death, pure fluffiness 

Summary: Y/N is used to being a background character someone you glaze over but never really notice. But more recently she longed for someone to see her, well she longed for a certain redhead to see her. 

A/N: Wrote this for @theweasleysredhair​​ writing challenge based off the prompt “You remembered?” very proud of this fic so i hope you love it as much as i do. All feedback is welcomed :))))

italics represent a flashback 

Taglist: send me a message if you would like to be added @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​​

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Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. Growing up with 3 older and much louder brothers she was pretty happy with sticking to the sidelines, letting them be noisy and crazy while she kept to herself. Y/N grew up with mostly boys around her, her mother passed away when she was young. Y/N would always beg her brothers and her dad for stories of her mother, wanting to feel closer to her. Y/N’s dad would fondly retell memories of his beautiful wife, reminiscing on how witty and charismatic she was. He’d mention all the small, quirky things she would do which made him fall hard and fast for her. Y/N longed for that kind of love, she longed for someone to take notice of her in the way her dad did for her mum. Ever since Y/N was a little girl she yearned to be heard and seen but that proved difficult when you’re as shy and quiet as her.

Judging by most of the people in Y/N’s life she seemed to attract the boisterous types, guessing her quiet nature balanced them out. She loved her friends with her entire heart, even if their personalities were the opposite of hers, Y/N wouldn’t change their qualities if she could.

One of her friends, although still lively and vibrant as the others, also had a calm and tranquil side to him. George Weasley. Y/N had only known George for a few years having met at Lee Jordan’s 18th birthday 3 years ago. Somehow that night she had ended up climbing a tree with the tall redhead whom she had only met 30 minutes prior.

“How the hell did you get up to that branch?” Y/N mumbled, trying to figure out how to reach the higher branch where George Weasley was currently sitting, his long legs swinging back and forth as he chuckled at the girl below him.

“I used that branch sticking out there and then swung my leg up to get here.” George points to the branch to the girls left. 

Y/N grunts as she attempts what George said but huffs and pouts her lip feeling defeated, “you forget that I have little legs, unlike you Mr. giraffe.”

George rolls his eyes and stretches his hand out, “try again, I’ll help pull you up.”

Somehow, George manages to pull Y/N up and they sit comfortably next to one another up high in the tree. “There you go little bunny, don’t go falling off now.”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the nickname wishing she had brought her cider up with her feeling very self-conscious and unsure of what to do her shaking hands.

The pair fall into a comfortable silence, watching the party goers below them gathered around a very intoxicated birthday boy chanting as he chugs another beer, “we love to drink with Lee cause Lee is our mate and when we drink with Lee he gets it down in 8…7…”

Their voices drown out as George gently nudges Y/N’s shoulder pulling her attention back to him, “soo, Y/N I hear you’re not much of the talker?”

Y/N blushes hard grateful for the lack of light outside. “No I guess not. Not many are interested in what I have to say.”

George smiles, his eyes not leaving the girl beside him, “well I am. Tell me something.”

Y/N chews on her bottom lip nervously and looks back at the drunk crowd, “like what?”

George shrugs, he didn’t really mind what the conversation was about, he just wanted to hear the pretty girl speak. “I dunno, anything. Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Y/N racks her brain for something to talk about, her palms getting sweaty from the long silence. Finally, she settles on something that always fills her with joy, her mother.

“Um okay so,” she starts staring at the leaves swaying in the tree, pushing down the anxiety. “Before my mother died she always had this film camera with her, my dad used to joke around saying that she loved this camera more than him,” Y/N chuckles quietly before continuing “She would take photos of the most random things, we have this big box back home filled with all the photos she ever took with that camera.” Y/N pauses, fumbling with her fingers. “I wish we still had the camera. You see after my mum passed, dad had to look after us 4 kids and with only one income coming in, it was pretty tough. For my 12th birthday I reeeaaally wanted a new bike, I’d complained for years that I couldn’t have my brothers old one because it was a gross boy’s bike. So, my dad sold my mums camera to get me a pink one. Kind of wish he didn’t because I would have loved to still have mum’s camera with us.”

Y/N finished and chewed her lip realising speaking about her dead mother probably wasn’t a great conversation piece, but any story of her mother always made her feel warm inside.

George hadn’t taken his eyes off her throughout the whole story, his heart fluttering when her eyes had lit up as she spoke about her mother.

“I’m sorry, probably not what you wanted to hear, it was the first thing that popped into my head.” Y/N mumbled.

George simply shook his head and replied, “you don’t ever have to apologise to me for saying what’s on your mind Y/N. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

For the first time in a while, Y/N felt seen.

Y/N’s phone dings and she pulls it from her pocket to read the message.

-Hey bunny :) so 4 tonight, we’re aiming to get to urs at like 7. does that work for u?

It was from George. Even if she didn’t have his number saved, she’d be able to tell it was from the redhead simply from his choice of nickname. Y/N hated when he called her bunny but George insisted on using the nickname ever since Lee’s 18th mainly because he thought it was cute not that he would tell her that.

Y/N’s heart thumped harder in her chest purely from the fact that George had texted her. Her crush on George had amplified over the years of knowing the boy, feeling both thankful and uneasy at the fact that he had so effortlessly slotted into their tight friendship group mainly because he was always around making Y/N a stuttering mess.

Y/N’s fingers fumble as she types out a response, it was her birthday today and all her friends we’re persistent in throwing her a party. They had agreed to a small gathering at Y/N’s place, Y/N didn’t want them to make such a fuss over it.

-Hey Georgie, 7 is perfect! Cant wait.

-See u then bunny, hope ur ready to get ur drink on ;)

-IDK, after the other weekend I dont think im ready to face alcohol again

-nope! no excuses from u, u only turn 21 once

Y/N chuckles at George’s message and goes back to tidying her house, ready for tonight.

~~~~

As soon as it hits 7pm her friends are barging through her front door lugging drinks.

Each of them greet Y/N giving her a hug and wishing her happy birthday.

“We’ll do presents later, first let’s get some drinks into us!” Angelina cheers as she starts to mix some deadly concoction. Alicia connects her phone to the speaker, the living room filling with music.

Y/N jumps as a voice pipes up from behind her, “happy birthday little bunny.”

She turns facing George as he places a brightly coloured wrapped box on the counter with the other presents. He opens his arms, engulfing her into a giant hug. Y/N wraps her arms around his waist, giving him a tight squeeze, “thanks” she mumbles into his chest before pulling away looking up at his warm eyes. They stare at each other for a second before the moment is broken when Fred places something on Y/N’s head.

“A birthday tiara for the birthday girl” Fred states loudly, Y/N glances at the mirror hanging from the wall on her left sees a plastic silver and pink tiara perched upon her head.

“Oh god,” Y/N mumbles adjusting it slightly.

Lee shouts over the music, drawing everyone’s attention over to him. “Okay everyone, the ever lovely Angie has made us each a questionable looking but delicious drink to start the night. So get your butts over here and let’s get this party started!”

A few hours and many, many drinks later, everyone is huddled in the living room, sitting on the couches watching Y/N open her presents. So far, she had gotten some perfume from Angelina, chocolates and a gorgeous photo frame from Alicia and Fred and Lee had gifted Y/N with a bottle of wine and voucher from the little boutique at the corner of her street. Y/N’s cheeks were hurting from smiling so much and her heart swelled at the sweet gifts her friends had gotten her.

“Okay, only one left,” Alicia says, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Probably the best one,” Fred whispers to Lee.

“Of course it’s going to be the best one you idiot,” Angelina says as a matter of fact, overhearing the two boys.

George, who is sitting to Y/N’s right, hands over the brightly colour box, trying to hide his excitement and nerves. “Here you go Y/N, happy birthday.”

The box feels heavy in Y/N’s grasp as she places it in her lap tearing off the wrapping paper. Y/N glances around, noticing everyone’s eager eyes on her. She sees Angelina nudge Alicia’s side smiling at each other knowingly. Y/N furrow her brows, slightly confused then draws her attention back to the box. She ripped off the paper carefully and uncover a brown box, no hints as to what is inside.

“Oh my god, hurry up and open it the suspense is killing me!” Fred says impatiently, George whacks him across the head telling him to shut up.

Y/N take off the lid and immediately her mouth gapes open finally seeing what’s inside. She shakily lifts the film camera out of the box and hold it so gently as if it’s made of diamonds and gold.

Small tears prick in Y/N’s eyes, shocked and surprised at George’s gift, it looks exactly like the one her mother had.

She manages to squeak out a small, “you remembered?” referring to the first conversation they had 3 years prior.

George has a small smile etched onto his lips. “Of course I did, I remember everything you tell me. I take a lot of pride in knowing everything about you actually.” He says, puffing his chest out proudly.

“Yeah like what?” Y/N cradles the camera in her arms.

“Well,” George starts. “I know that you hate the smell tequila because it reminds you of your 18th when you spent most of the night by the toilet. I know that you can’t sleep if the room is dead quiet. I know that you love buying plants but can never seem to keep them alive. I know you never wear matching socks because you think it’s a fun way to spice up an outfit.” He finishes smugly.

Alicia and Angelina let out a small aww in the background reminding Y/N of the 4 other sets of eyes watching her and George right now.

“Well there’s one thing you don’t know about me.”

“Yeah? What’s that then?” George counters.

Y/N doesn’t know where she musters up the courage from to speak the next words, maybe from the alcohol buzzing through her body or finally being sick of keeping this to herself for the past 3 years. Whatever it may be, she’s rather proud of herself, ignoring the way her stomach churns.

“That I have a huge crush on you.”

She expected George to laugh in her face before rejecting her gently. What Y/N definitely didn’t expect was him to cradle her face in his large hands, pressing a sweet but passionate kiss to her pink lips. She squeaks in surprise before melting into the kiss, gripping onto his shirt tightly, scared he would slip away.

Much to Y/N’s dismay George pulls away from the kiss tucking a strand of her hair back behind her ear, “no I knew that too.”

“Wha-how?” Y/N stutters.

The attention is pulled to Alicia as she begins to speak, “it wasn’t much of a secret babe. Everybody knew you were crushing on George. Can’t believe it took either one of you so long to do something about it.”

“Little Georgie here spent months trying to find that camera for you as a way to confess his undying love for you.” Fred reaches over and ruffles his twin’s hair who shoves him off.

“Yep, we were all so bloody excited for you to open his presents so you two can stop pining over each other.” Lee adds downing the rest of his drink then standing up. “Right, now the two love birds have finally confessed their feelings. Who’s up for a round of beer pong? Reigning champion here has yet to be defeated.”

“You’re on Jordan, that ego of yours has gotten large enough.” Fred challenges, everyone moving over to the table to set up for beer pong. Leaving Y/N and George alone on the couch.

George wraps his lanky arm around Y/N’s shoulder pulling her into his side, “I hope you’re enjoying your birthday bunny.”

Y/N grins widely, playing with her new camera before lifting it up and aiming it at George. “best birthday ever Georgie, thank you.” She squeezes the button down, snapping a picture of George who is staring at her like she’s the only person in the world.

Y/N is very content with being a background character, she’s quite used to it actually. But for once she doesn’t mind being the centre of someone’s undivided attention.

#George weasley #George weasley one shot #george weasley x reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fanfic #george weasley fluff #george weasley fan fic #Fred and george #george weasley imagine #twrh9kwritingchallenge

[makeste]

Do you think Deku will ever get mad at All-Might for keeping so many secrets from him? Deku has been giving All-Might free passes on things he should have known about like AFO, previous holders of OFA and now that Tomura is Nana's grandson. It feels like AM needs to be held accountable at some point.

I think it’s likely; he’s gotten fairly mad at him about this before, back when All Might hid the truth about his falling-out with Nighteye.

and he’s probably going to feel a bit betrayed at the realization that All Might is still keeping things from him even after this conversation. and it’s not like it’s just small things, either; these are some pretty major things that Deku is still getting blindsided by as a result of All Might’s secrecy. it feels like AM hasn’t really learned his lesson at all and is still Dumbledoring his way through this mentorship.

but the thing is, I can understand All Might’s point of view here as well, and I get why he keeps doing it, even if I don’t agree with it. I’ve been meaning to write a post about this anyway, especially since it ties into the matter of the Fourth OFA User and his quirk, so let’s take a look at All Might’s ever-growing List of Secrets, because there’s a pattern there.

1. OFA

starting with the big one. now obviously Deku is very much in on this particular secret. however it is still a secret from just about everyone else, and it’s probably the one secret that All Might has been the most adamant about keeping, going to increasingly elaborate lengths even as it becomes more and more obvious that all of these efforts are eventually going to prove futile.

the thing is, it’s pretty obvious why he’s been trying so hard to keep the truth of Deku’s quirk hidden. OFA paints a huge target onto Deku’s back, one that would attract notice not just from the villain side, but from the hero side as well. OFA is basically the ultimate prize. it’s probably the most powerful quirk in existence, aside from AFO. and once word gets out that this power can be passed on to literally anyone simply at will, things could start getting very ugly.

Deku would suddenly come under pressure from all sides, with people trying to use and control him (well, I say “people��, but mainly I mean the HPSC sob). that’s if they see him as a useful tool and a weapon in the battle against the League, mind you. but if they decide that he’s not, or that he’s not ready, there would instead be pressure for him to give up OFA to a “worthier” candidate. either way, Deku himself isn’t going to be taken into account. his thoughts, his feelings, what he wants, what he deserves; none of that is going to matter to these people.

and these are the good guys, mind! that’s not even mentioning the villains, who have already destroyed an entire city in pursuit of him. Deku is in a lot of danger now. and so far, Tomura/AFO have been surprisingly honorable in their attempts to get ahold of OFA, in that they’ve been targeting Deku directly. but AFO is a notoriously underhanded guy, and it concerns me that there are a ton of more underhanded methods still on the table for him to try out. because we’ve already established that Deku is notoriously self-sacrificing. I mean literally notorious, as in both his friends and enemies alike have all picked up on this trait and made a note of it. so imagine if Tomura ever decides to take hostages, for instance. “give me OFA or I’ll kill so and so.” then what?? jesus.

so yeah, all in all it’s pretty clear why All Might has been exceedingly careful about keeping OFA a secret even from most of Deku’s allies. this isn’t even getting into the whole U.A. traitor thing as well, but I mean, you get the idea, right? the reason All Might has gone to such lengths to keep OFA a secret is to protect Deku.

2. AFO

and now we get to the first of many things that All Might kept hidden from Deku himself! and these are generally going to be a lot harder to defend. like yeah, you probably should have told this barely-pubescent child that that the quirk you were giving him came prepackaged with a built-in mortal enemy, All Might. might want to actually lead with that part next time.

so why didn’t he tell Deku about AFO? well first of all please understand that I’m not trying to justify this decision, lol; I’m just trying to rationalize it from All Might’s point of view. he was less than six years removed from his fateful battle with AFO in which the both of them were gravely injured. and yes, he said that he believed AFO had died from his wounds; but if he really thought that was true, why didn’t he listen to Nighteye and pass OFA on to someone else back then? why did he stubbornly stay in the field for as long as he could? his actions just don’t line up. if he really thought AFO was dead, you’d think he would have been able to retire in peace, as there wouldn’t have been such a great need for the Symbol anymore.

so honestly, what I’m learning towards here is that he didn’t really believe it, deep down. but once his powers really started to wane, he felt like he had no choice but to pass the quirk on to someone else and just hope for the best. and then, once he met Deku, I think he really started to want to believe it was true. because he empathized with Deku and he saw himself in him, and he wanted to give him that chance. Deku wanted so badly to be a hero, and All Might saw that he had the heart and the spirit of one, and only lacked the physical ability. and there All Might was, with a quirk he could bestow on him that could potentially make his dream come true. he wanted to believe he could do that. he convinced himself that the threat of AFO really was nonexistent -- after all, it had been six years! -- and that it wasn’t a burden he was passing down onto this child anymore, but a gift.

and so he didn’t tell Deku about AFO because he wanted to believe it wasn’t something Deku needed to know. so in this case it wasn’t just Deku he was essentially lying to, but himself as well. so yeah, not the best rationale in the world, but a very human mistake for him to make, and one that once again has its roots in wanting to protect Deku. or more precisely in this case, wanting to protect Deku’s dream. he wanted to believe it was all right for him to hand down this power which he so strongly believed that Deku deserved.

3. the Vestiges

honestly it’s a bit up in the air whether or not this one was really a secret, because All Might genuinely didn’t seem to realize that the Vestiges were conscious inside of OFA. or so he says at any rate. regardless, I’m going to include it in the list because he was definitely acting pretty cagey about the subject back during the sports festival, and I’ve never been fully satisfied with his explanation.

if you ask me? I think one of the reasons why he didn’t want to discuss this more in depth with Deku back then was because he was afraid it might inadvertently lead to some other topics that he wasn’t yet ready to discuss.

the idea of the previous OFA users living on inside the quirk is comforting in some ways, but that’s also a conversation that inevitably leads to the subject of AFO and AFO’s brother just for starters. not to mention Nana, whose death was deeply traumatizing for him and which I don’t think he was emotionally prepared to bring up just yet.

but I think the biggest factor that led to All Might being mum about this was the fact that he himself was included among the Vestiges. because I’m thinking he might have been a bit paranoid about avoiding a conversation like this:

All Might: “hey Midoriya-shounen, I just wanted to let you know that those weird little shadow figures you saw during your fight were the ghosts of the previous users of OFA, who are all living on inside of the quirk. my master once told me, 'even if I die one of these days, we can always meet again inside One for All.' so you know, that’s nice.”

Deku: “huh okay, so you’re telling me I have the souls of eight other people trapped inside my quirk, well that’s pretty trippy but I’m a weird little boy who lives for this kind of wild quirk shit so I’m okay with it! but it’s not like it matters though anyway since you’re still here to guide me haha! it’s not like you have any reason to suspect that might not be the case in the very near future, right?”

All Might: “...right.”

so yeah. once again, the reason for All Might keeping this a secret is because he doesn’t want to burden Deku. spoiler alert, the next two secrets also have the exact same reasoning behind them. in fact I’m just going to go and lump them both together.

4. Sir Nighteye, and 5. Sir Nighteye’s prophecy

so #4 is the one that actually finally set Deku off in the scene I posted earlier lol. and yeah, All Might should have told Deku, especially since it was inevitable that Deku was going to find out anyway. once he learned about Nighteye and All Might’s falling-out, him finding out about the prophecy was a given. and so once again I want to stress that I’m not actually trying to defend All Might’s decision here lol. just trying to relate to it.

anyway but that said, the reason why he didn’t tell Deku is pretty straightforward: he didn’t want to burden Deku with that knowledge. he knows Deku looks up to him. he knows that Deku looks to him for support. and All Might has spent his entire career doing everything he could to be that strong support for everybody, for the entire nation. he wants everyone to feel secure and safe. he wants nothing more than to be able to keep them safe. and it’s so hard, when you have that mindset, to let yourself show weakness and allow the cracks to show and to admit and accept that you can’t protect people from everything, no matter how bad you want to.

how do you tell the kid you’re mentoring, the kid who’s come to depend on you for so much, that there’s a good chance you might not be around much longer? that there’s a good chance he’ll be left to deal with everything all on his own, the same way that you were? how the hell do you even begin to approach that conversation? especially knowing what kind of person Deku is, on top of everything else. for a hero, someone who’s dedicated their whole life to helping and protecting others, nothing is more devastating than being told that something terrible is going to happen, and that no matter what, there is nothing you can do to change that fate. that alone would have been reason enough to not want Deku to know. he didn’t want him to experience that kind of helplessness.

and Deku is still just a kid!! Nighteye, a fully grown man and a hero with years of experience, completely fell apart after that prophecy. meanwhile Deku just started hero school less than a year ago. he’s only sixteen. he is far, far too young to have to deal with all of this. yes, he needed to know, both as a matter of trust and as a matter of practicality. but the fact that he needed to know is pretty fucking cruel on the universe’s part, and I get why All Might was so reluctant to tell him. I get it.

side note!! I feel like it’s worth mentioning that this one is still a secret as far as a certain other person goes. like, I feel that’s pretty noteworthy. pretty much every other person who knows about OFA also knew about Nighteye’s prophecy, including Rat Principal, Recovery Girl, Gran Torino, and Nighteye himself. (although it’s not clear whether or not Naomasa knows, come to think of it. but it’s likely, since All Might probably physically can’t lie to him lol.) and of course, Deku now knows as well.

but aside from Naomasa, there is one other person who’s notably missing from that list.

Kacchan knows about OFA and AFO, but neither All Might nor Deku have told him about the prophecy. even though Katsuki has firmly elbowed his way into the OFA Scooby Squad and knows about all sorts of other things including SIXQUIRKS and the Vestiges and all that jazz, and he’s been helping Deku train and has been included in pretty much everything for months now, he still doesn’t know about this.

and honestly, this might be the one time where I actually agree with All Might’s decision. I say that as someone who loves Katsuki to pieces and very much wants him to find out about this, because I’m mean and because I love angst. but once again, I get it, though. because you probably don’t want to tell the kid who was thinking this...

...that at the time, when you came to save him back at Kamino, you were thinking something like this:

yeah. I’m just saying. I don’t think it does Katsuki much benefit to know that All Might originally went out to Kamino fully expecting that it would be his last battle, and fully prepared to die the horrible death that Nighteye foretold. like, on the one hand there’s definitely an argument to be made that Katsuki should know about the prophecy just so that he’s prepared in case anything does happen, because he would then be the one to have to step up and replace All Might as Deku’s primary support. (and this is something All Might already seems to have been grooming him for in recent months, which is a bit of a red flag as far as All Might’s mortality prospects are concerned, but that’s another discussion for another day.)

but on the other hand, Katsuki is a pretty smart kid. and if and when he does find out about this, there’s a good chance he’s going to connect the dots and realize that Kamino was actually a hell of a lot riskier than All Might ever let on. and there’s close to a 100% chance that he starts blaming himself all over again if he ever learns that. I don’t think it would set him back too much, because he’s made a lot of progress, but I do think that even now it’s still something that he feels a lot of responsibility for. and so really this is just an additional burden that he doesn’t need to be carrying on his shoulders. Deku’s not the only one who’s still just a kid.

anyway! so tl;dr this is yet another case where All Might was keeping something a secret because he didn’t want to burden Deku. and is, in fact, STILL keeping it secret from Katsuki because he doesn’t want to burden him, either. basically just trying to protect both of these kids here.

6. Nana’s relation to Tomura

almost done with the list now! for real though, it’s crazy how many of these there are. how can one man have so many secrets. like seriously, calm the fuck down, All Might.

so! again, Deku should arguably have been told this as soon as it became clear that the responsibility of dealing with AFO and Tomura was going to fall to him. except, I guess, the thing is they didn’t think it was going to fall to him. or at least they hoped it wouldn’t. AFO was in Tartarus, and Naomasa and Gran were planning on hunting down Tomura and the League themselves. and Deku is just a high school kid with an internship. so in an ideal world, he would have never gotten near Tomura, and vice-versa. the adult heroes in BnHA may be inept as fuck, but I’ll give them credit where due: none of them wanted this kind of responsibility to ever fall on any of the kids until they were ready. even during this arc, the kids were all originally assigned to the evacuation teams, and the handful who were on the front lines were there because it was essential to the mission. and even then they pretty much had assigned babysitters (Midnight, Fatgum, etc.) shadowing them the whole time and ready to haul them back out as soon as their tasks were accomplished. like, don’t get me wrong, the child soldiers thing was and is still very fucked up, lol. but they were clearly trying to keep them out of harm’s way.

anyway! and so of course this applies to Deku as well. never mind that he’s All Might’s heir and well on his way to becoming more powerful than anyone could have ever dreamed. he’s still just a teenager. and we don’t send teenagers out to hunt the bad guys. we leave that to the adults, supposedly. and so in these guys’ minds, there really wasn’t any reason to tell Deku about the whole Nana/Tomura connection, because even if it was true, in their minds it’s not really relevant to Deku. they weren’t planning on him and Tomura becoming arch-nemeses. and so it was really just another thing that All Might presumably didn’t want to burden him with at the end of the day. “by the way, Midoriya-shounen, you should know there’s a possibility that Shigaraki Tomura is actually the grandson of my late mentor whom All for One killed.” that’s basically just a very unfun fact that Deku can do absolutely nothing about, except feel bad about it. it doesn’t change the fact that Tomura is still a mass murderer who’s eventually going to have to be captured or killed. so in All Might’s mind there’s really no benefit to telling Deku about any of this.

anyway! and so now finally, last but not least,

7. the Fourth OFA User

so now we finally get to the one secret we don’t actually know yet! OFA IV, and his whole mysterious deal.

All Might, after doing all that research on the previous OFA users and their quirks, suddenly changed his mind at the last second and decided not to tell Deku about this one specific user and his quirk (and notably, his cause of death). why is that?? “I don’t want to speculate and talk about things I’m not sure of...” really?? so you think the better option is for him to be unprepared and to not have any idea of what’s coming, then??

no, seriously. I’m seriously asking that. does All Might, in fact, think that it’s actually a better option for Deku to not know anything about the fourth user than for him to be aware of it. I am genuinely asking that question, because I truly suspect that this might actually be the case.

because, you see, that’s the pattern. if you look at all the other things he’s kept hidden either from Deku, or from others on Deku’s behalf, that’s the one thing they all have in common. he kept them secret in order to protect Deku. either to shelter him from the burden, or to keep him safe from people who might try to do him harm.

so I think it’s safe to say that even though we know absolutely nothing about this particular secret yet, it’s still going to follow that same pattern. All Might isn’t telling Deku about the Fourth yet either because he doesn’t want to burden him with something, or because he thinks there’s some other reason why Deku is better off not knowing.

here are a few other things we can extrapolate here:

All Might’s next line after this is “because I’m worried for him”, so yeah. whatever the reason, he’s trying to protect Deku somehow.

All Might has a history of avoiding truths he’s not ready to face yet, such as AFO still being alive. so even though he says here that he’s “not sure of” whatever it is he found, it’s very possible that he is in fact pretty sure of it, but just doesn’t want to believe it.

the fact that he wrote something down but then crossed it out would seem to support that as well. he says “not yet”, but I’m definitely not convinced that’s actually the case.

whatever this secret about the fourth user is, it’s something All Might isn’t willing to tell Katsuki either, even though Katsuki specifically presses him about it. this makes me think that it’s not just something shady or unpleasant about the fourth user’s past (like him being a villain for instance), because if it was just something like that, I don’t think he’d be so insistent on hiding it from Katsuki as well. and also that wouldn’t explain why he’s keeping the quirk a secret, especially since he knows Deku is going to manifest it at some point.

so my thinking is that it’s not something about the Fourth’s history, but rather something about his quirk. and after all, the Vestige storyline is mainly about the SIXQUIRKS anyway, so that tracks. and so if it is something related to the Fourth’s quirk, and this something also convinced All Might to hide the Fourth’s cause of death, I think the most likely explanation is that something about the Fourth’s quirk ended up killing him, and All Might fears that this quirk could potentially harm or kill Deku as well.

“but if the Fourth’s quirk is potentially dangerous, then wouldn’t it make more sense to tell Deku about it so that he can be prepared?” well, yeah. definitely it would. unless, of course, All Might has somehow concluded that the danger to Deku is actually GREATER if he knows than if he doesn’t know. in other words, the risk of the quirk manifesting with Deku unaware of what it is, is outweighed by the risk of Deku knowing and manifesting it on purpose.

and this, I think, is where the rest of Katsuki’s conversation with All Might in ch 284 comes into play:

All Might has no doubt observed the same thing himself. and so what I’m thinking is that this must be some kind of super high-risk, high-reward quirk that Deku, if he knew about it, would be tempted to use while battling someone like Tomura, even knowing there was a risk of it hurting or even killing him as well. this is Deku, after all. Deku, who takes himself out of the equation. Deku, who is ALREADY pushing himself to extremes with OFA and has been doing so from the start. Deku, who barring a miracle will be lucky to have even 1/10th of the normal function in his arms when this arc is said and done. and that’s just with normal, everyday OFA and Blackwhip and Float. if you were to go and add some sort of super-self-destruct quirk on top of all that?? jesus christ. they’d be picking up the pieces of what was left of him, probably.

so yeah. if this really does turn out to be the case, and the Fourth’s quirk really is a potential suicide quirk? I could absolutely understand why All Might would keep that hidden from him. once again, it’s all about protecting him and keeping him safe.

and it’s problematic though, for sure! and most likely futile just like all of his other secret-keeping efforts have been. at some point he’s just going to have to start trusting Deku to handle this stuff, and letting him know these things. like it or not, he’s not going to be a kid forever, and Destiny is currently being Thrust Upon Him at a fairly alarming rate! pretending like all of these threats will just magically go away all on their own is not it. if you didn’t want peril lusting over him at every corner then you shouldn’t have chosen a motherfucking Shounen Protag as your motherfucking heir, my dude.

anyway! so those are all of my thoughts about All Might and his secrets. I do think Deku is gonna call him out on it again soon, and I think All Might will be apologetic for not telling him about Tomura and Nana, but I don’t know if it will be enough to finally get him to change his ways and reveal everything else. he is an overprotective dad filled with anxiety over his trouble magnet son and his arm-exploding ways, and it’s a tough position for him to be in, knowing that either way there will be pain that Deku can’t avoid. it’s rough. anyways, maybe I’m too soft, but while I don’t necessarily want him to just keep getting free passes on everything, I kind of hope they don’t rake him over the coals too badly for it either. he means well!! he is doing his best. hopefully they can manage to talk it out, sob.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #all might #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bnha meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #I'm so behind on my metas that while everyone else is posting about dabi and enji #I'm only just now getting around to organizing my thoughts on stuff that was revealed seven chapters ago lol #ah well #no chapter this week so I'll have some time to catch up maybe

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

In addition to the "ambitious workaholic perfectionist" thing - which is a huge (and hugely significant) similarity between Paul and his mum, don't get me wrong - I think there's also the less-discussed propensity toward caregiving. It's complicated by Paul's less comfortable relationship with his more ~stereotypically feminine through a 1950s lens~ traits and his myriad other issues with Being Vulnerable, so he's more upfront about it in relation to kids and animals (and women, certainly after Linda got sick but probably predating that a bit). It seems pretty automatic for him when someone's in physical distress, thinking in particular about the horrible incident with the dying au pair in 1980. Emotional issues are more complicated, but it feels like the impulse to Make It Better, the notion that he can somehow Fix It (without, of course, acknowledging any of his own Damage or meaningfully dealing with it, lol), is very much a Thing - I think he's done this with his kids and, to some extent, Linda, but less successfully with John and HM. And I think it's really hard for him to accept when he can't fill that gap for someone or when doing so would necessitate going to Bad Places in his own brain.

(This all makes vague sense in my head, sorry if it's total rambling ridiculousness when typed out. XD)

You're so right though anon! I do think it's a bit weird when people call Paul cold and distant, completely ignoring his compassion and warmth for animals and children. I saw someone on here, don't remember who, mention they think it came from him being distrustful of people who might take advantage of him, which animals and kids wouldn't, which does make a certain sense to me.

I think you're right that Paul both wants to help but is afraid of getting into the dirty, nitty, gritty of it all.

When Stu died, Paul wasn't cold or distant; according to Astrid, his first reaction was to hug her. But I don't think Paul could have ever given her direct advice on how to deal with her grief like John did, even though Paul too had dealt with excruciating grief in the past. I also believe him when he says Magical Mystery Tour and Get Back weren't vanity projects but true efforts to bring the band back together (even if his own narcissism peaked through in the end).

I think the problem with "fixing" John is, for one thing, that John's issues were not easily explainable. Reading the Davies bio was kind of eye-opening, because John will be describing what sounds like clinical depression (sitting on the stairs or lying on the couch for hours on end thinking; not talking to people for days) and it's barely framed as an issue. He himself seems to almost frame it as a philosophical or religious thing. I'm not sure how I – and I dare say I'm relatively emotionally intelligent – would even begin to approach that, try to make it better.

Another thing I note is that Davies says that John "came alive" when he was working with Paul (that isn't to say it cured his depression but it seems like it was one of the few still enjoyable activities for him during this low point), and maybe Paul picked up on that too. Maybe him egging John on to get back to writing and come back to the studio was what seemed to work best, at least for a while.

Anyways your thoughts are so cool, I love them and keep them coming if you have more to share!!!

#its actually really hard when theres something that in 99% of the cases cheers up your friend #but it takes effort and you have to convince them every time itll help #(speaking from experience here) #ask #anon #paul #analysis #jp #mine

[harrypotter-imaginess]

A/N: I got a tiiiiny bit of power and my first thought was my need for validation through my fanfiction lol. Hope you enjoy!

<This is Part 1!> / Part 2 Here!

- You’re in the middle of a blizzard, reading to pass the time, the power cuts in and out- giving you just enough time to scramble about trying to make your home just warm enough so you don’t freeze to death

- You sigh when it flickers off again, taking a sip from the hot drink you managed to make while you still had electricity

- Eyes turn back to the book in your hands, with the poor cell reception, and lack of television you’ve found the only thing you can bear to do it read and sleep

- Only occasionally withdrawing from both to eat whatever cold meal you can

- You’ve settled on reading the Harry Potter books, easy enough to read, even in your current condition

- The books are waterlogged, in terrible condition, you treated them quite rough when you were a child, though not all the blame is yours

- It’s an eclectic group, some hardcover some paperback, some borrowed from friends and never returned, some you got as a good deal at your local used bookstore

- You smile when you see all the parts with Fred and George are highlighted

- They always were your favorites

- You stiffile a yawn, you’re just getting to a good part-

- But a small rest won’t hurt will it?

- You feel your eyes drift close

- When they open again you’re looking at rolling hills, a wisp of steam curling into your view every so often

- Huh what a nice dream

- You close your eyes again only to feel a sharp sting in your neck that your eyes shoot open

- You don’t feel pain in dreams

- You’re in a train compartment an empty red bench in front of you

- You’re alone, the green hills rolling by outside the window

- You’ve seen this type of scenery before maybe in a movie, or a book-

- It looks a lot like something out of Harry Potter

- Your thoughts come to an abrupt hault, the memories slowly filtering in

- You’re a witch- your parents passed away in the first war, and you were brought up by your muggle godfather

- Don’t be mistaken, this isn’t some unfortunate Harry-Potter orphan story, your god father loved you a lot

- Even though he was a bit of a sl*t, the revolving circus of women that left his room every Sunday was practically your childhood form of television

- You even did a report on it in muggle school, high left several faculty members feeling concerned

- Still he loved you a lot, and he tried to be as honest as he could about your heritage, and your parents

- But well- he was a muggle, there was only so much he could do

- Still, he took you to kings cross himself, taking you to your gringott’s safe where your parents meager savings had increased by ten fold over the years, helping you pick your wand and books

- “Now I can’t go with you onto the platform, so write and let me know when you’ve reached safely alright?” You nodded, as he pulled you into a hug

- “I’m going to miss having you home���

- “But now you can bring women to the flat whenever you want” You were only joking but it makes him sniffle

- “I’d trade all of that to have you at home for just a few more years”

- You only pat his shoulder reassuring him you’ll be back during the holidays

- You had tried your hand at a few spells, but nothing drastic

- You were excited to see what Hogwarts would bring, what you might learn, and the friendships you might build

- You were so excited that you didn’t sleep all night, finally succumbing to a nap when you collapsed in an empty compartment

- And that brings you to the present, where you’re practically sweating buckets in the red bench.

- Okay, so you’re in Harry Potter now- some how

- And yeah, you’ve always kinda wished you could go to Hogwarts-

- But not like this!

- For one every book, like 3 kids die

- Even the cute ones, like Collin Creevey-

- And honestly if a main character like Fred Weasley died, what chance do you have at surviving?

- You’re probably just one of those nothing characters that dies at the battle of Hogwarts- if not sooner

- You look down at your hands

- Not to mention you’re suddenly eleven years old

- How many times did you have a nightmare you suddenly had to go back to middle or high school again because apparently you missed a class?

- Well this is like a nightmare come true

- You look under your shirt, holding the neck out only to sigh

- It’s your body still, you vaguely remember looking like this when you were younger

- But god-

- It’s like a strangers body at this point

- Ugh you don’t have time to think about this

- your goal right now is to survive

- A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts

- “Change into your robs, we’re getting close” a muffled voice says from the other side and you sigh

- Of course you are

- You sigh as you pull out your plain black wizards robe, almost looks like a graduation gown to be honest

- And that’s the uniform here is it

- Strange

- As you tug on the sleeves you think how you’re going to get out of this

- If you’re right the year is 1990, a year before Harry Potter shows up

- Okay so as far as you know- nothing really happens this year

- You don’t have to worry about all the Pureblood crap because both your parents were wizards, so you’re a half blood at least

- Now it’s all about house-

- If the books are 100% accurate then it’s between Slytherin and Gryffindor, Snape will turn a blind eye to any of your transgressions because of favoritism

- And McGonagall would go to bat for you if the circumstances were unfair

- Still- the Slytherin house seemed problematic what with the old money in that group

- Not all of them were probably like that- just the most prominent characters- you’d really rather not get involved with all that if you could

- And then- Gryffindor was even worse, you might be safe this year, but next year you would be plagued with death flag after death flag- no thanks

- Sprout seems nice enough, but you’re not too sure about that common room, in the dungeons- hard pass

- That leaves Ravenclaw, Flitwick seems nice enough, and the dorms are in a Ravenclaw tower

- Luna Lovegood will be there soon, and well, that could be pretty fun

- So you’ll try for Ravenclaw you think- pulling on your bag and joining the horde of students

- You’re about to join the other first years when you feel a tug on your bag.

- You turn towards the feeling to see two identical boys, a splatter of freckles across their nose, and flaming red hair

- “Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?” The taller of the two asks, a grin curled onto his lips, and his eyes full of stars

- You only nod

- They’re both looking at you like they’ve just seen a movie star and you can’t figure out why

- You’re only eleven years old after all, what could you have possibly done?

- “Was you Mum-“ the shorter starts

- “Was she the famous auror?” The other finishes

- Ah- of course

- Your mother was indeed a famous war hero, known for her noble efforts during the war

- Your god father had told you that at least

- “I’m George, and this is Fred” the shorter - George- says jerking his thumb to his twin

- Oh

- So they’re Fred and George Weasley?!?!

- Honestly you should have known by the red hair

- You can’t believe you’re meeting some of your favorite characters

- You stick your hand out, hoping it’s not too sweaty

- “(Y/N),” you say, “but you already knew that”

- George grins as he takes your hand first, with Fred repeating the motion

- “What house do ya think you’ll go to?” Fred asks

- “We hope you’re aiming for Gryffindor” George adds with a sly grin

- You can feel your face warming up under their gaze

- Alright- change of plan- you’ll try to get into Gryffindor so you can be friends with George and Fred

- It’ll be a little risky, but until the end they weren’t really in any of the serious adventures.

- Besides maybe if you hang out with them, you can save Fred near the end

- “Maybe” you smile at them, hearing a voice call your name for a carriage

- “See you around!” You wave goodbye, stepping into you assigned carriage with a group of other first years

- It’s sort of a mismatch, you don’t quite recognize anyone in here

- Than again the children an age above Harry were never really mentioned

- “Ugh I can’t believe my glasses broke, what rotten luck” a girl besides you says- you turn to see a girl with long dark hair, fiddling with a pair of broken glasses in her hands

- “Ah here, can I?” You ask, holding out your hand, and the girl wordlessly hands you her glasses

- Your murmur a spell and watch as the metal expands curling until it wraps around the broken edge, resembling intertwined vines

- “It’s not the best, but it’ll do for now”

- It’s only when you look up to hand the girl back her glasses that you notice everyone’s watching you

- “How did you do that?” A boy asks, and you shrug

- “Oh well I just said the incantation-“

- “I’ve never heard that one before” another girl murmurs

- You shrug again

- “Anything can be an incarnation of you just put enough feeling into it right?”

- The children clamor at you all at once

- It turns out the two girls were Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott- both Hufflepuff’s if you remember correctly

- Guess they were a year older than Harry in this world

- And then the boy is Blaise Zambini

- You know in the books he’s in a morally Grey area at best.

- “So like this?” He asks and you shake your head

- “You have to put your wrist into it more”

- But now, as he’s begging you to teach him the repairing charm that you cast, all you see is a little boy who wants to learn

- Change of plans, if you get into Slytherin maybe you can watch over Blaise and be his best friend

- That way he won’t get all mixed up in that Death Eater crap

- Maybe you can even get him onto your side, make a coven of witches and wizards and do some non-alignment stuff during the war

- You’re all gathered in the hall, answering a roll call from a rather lithe and strict woman- professor McGonagall no doubt

- After that you’re left waiting, and feeling somewhat bored, and somewhat like you may have had too much pumpkin juice- you hobble off into the corridor looking for a bathroom

- “Hurry back I think we’re about to go into the sorting ceremony” Blaise says and you nod

- You do not, in fact, hurry back

- Because after relieving yourself- you are incredibly lost

- It doesn’t help that all the portraits keep on shuffling around, or that all the corridors here look equally dark

- It’s only on your third time around the portrait of a woman eating an apple do you see what appears to be a person

- “What are you doing in the corridor?” As you come closer you realize it’s a boy, a yellow and black striped tie around his neck. “Shouldn’t you be at the feast?”

- He’s quite pretty, with thick brown hair and rosy cheeks

- “I went to the bathroom and got lost,” you hear him murmur first year and raise an eyebrow “What’s your excuse?”

- He lets out a laugh, running a hand through his hair

- “That’s fair,” he admits. And then after a moment he says:

- “I’m hiding”

- Your eyebrows thread together

- “Like from a crazy ex lover or..?”

- He laughs again, shaking his head

- “No, from my professor.” And then after a moment, before you can ask ‘is it because you’re having an affair with them’ he says:

- “They want me to be prefect for my house next year, and I don’t know how I feel about that”

- You let that sink in,

- “I know I should do it- it would give me an opportunity to represent my house, and look out for all my friends, and I’m sure my dad would be awfully proud but-“

- But it’s a lot of responsibility

- You get it.

- You sit beside him on the floor

- “You should do it-“ and before he can give a reason why you say:

- “You would get your own bathroom and I think that means a lot in a place like this”

- He laughs again, only this time the laugh leaves in loud gaffs, somehow you feel like this is the first real laugh the boy has shown you

- “I’ve heard a lot of reasons, but having my own bathroom is definitely a first”

- He looks at you in a way that makes your hair stand on end and your skin feel hot.

- “I’m Cedric, Cedric Diggory.” He says with an extended hand

- Ah, so this is pretty boy Diggory.

- He does kinda look like a young Robert Pattinson to be honest

- You take his hand in yours giving a firm shake

- “ (Y/N) (L/N) “ and you see his eyebrows shoot up

- “ (L/N) like the-“

- “ Yeah that’s my mum, the famous Auror”

- Cedric’s mouth curls up in a lopsided grin

- “I was going to say inventor- the inventor for the portable infinity box”

- Ah yes, your dad was an inventor. You didn’t know much about it though. Just that his inventions had left you a small fortune

- “My parents were both pretty remarkable huh?”

- And even though they’re not really your parents, and this isn’t really your body, you feel a little sad thinking about them.

- Before you can give Cedric a chance to offer his condolences, you stand up brushing off your robe.

- “We’ll come on Mr. Prefect in the making, show me to where I’m to be sorted” you say with a wave of a hand

- He grins

- “As you wish”

- Maybe being in Hufflepuff wouldn’t be so bad,

- and if you can manage to get close to Cedric, maybe he’ll let you use the prefects bathroom

- Huh, that does sound enticing

- Okay change of plans, you’ll get into Hufflepuff

- For the nice bathroom privileges

- When you get into the hall you feel all eyes turn to look to you

- And even though you’re an adult, you feel awfully embarrassed

- “If you get in Hufflepuff let’s get a butterbeer to celebrate, my treat..” Cedric whispers in your ear, and you catch a glimpse of the lopsided grin curled onto his face before he pushes you forward towards the group of first years

- Your face still feels hot when your name gets called

- You gulp as you move towards the chair

- Well it’s do or die- and you don’t plan on dying here

- You gulp again as the cold wood presses against your thighs as you take a seat

- All you have to do is ask for it to put you in -

- Wait

- What house were you aiming for again?

- Logic dictates Ravenclaw, it’s your best chance-

- But well, you’ve always wanted to be friends with Fred and George it just seems like so much fun

- And then, Slytherin’s not so bad, it would be nice if you could change peoples opinions about that house

- Oh and Hufflepuff might be nice too, you would have someone to look out for you- and you in turn can look out for others like Susan and Hannah

- And so it seems you’ve made peace, no matter which house the hat chooses, you’re happy with the outcome because there’s good and bad in all of them

- These things aren’t one dimensional, they nuanced. And that’s okay

- You feel the hat place on your head, and several long moments of silence pass

- .

- ..

- ...

- ....

- Shouldn’t something be happening by now?

- Like at least whispers in your ear from the hat or something right?

- “I-“ it finally chokes out

- Ah good a decision

- Well what’s your future going to be like?

- “I don’t know” the hat finally sputters, a collective gasp filling the room

- You drop your face into your hands, as small murmurs begin to spread through the tables

- “F*ck me” you mumble

#harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter preferences #harry james potter #harry potter reader insert #Harry Potter x reader #George Weasley x reader #George Weasley imagine #fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #Fred Weasley imagine #Cedric Diggory imagine #cedric diggory x you #Cedric Diggory x reader #Draco Malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy x reader

[onlyfreds]

Chapter 3 - Running from the Public Eye | TRP

Summary: First lesson to learn when you’re royalty: The press never rests.

Warning/s: a bit of angst, mentions of a scandal

Series Masterlist

“You ready darling?” Fred asked, gently knocking on the door of Ginny’s room.

“Just a minute.” I answered, finishing up my hair and makeup before opening the door.

He grinned, “Love, you didn’t need to doll yourself up for me. You’re already the most gorgeous woman in the world.”

I giggled, “Flatter me all you want Weasley.”

He placed a hand on the small of my back as we walked down the stairs of the Burrow, “Hey! I’m not flattering you. I’m telling you the truth.”

I raised a brow at him, “Oh yeah? Since when did you tell the truth.”

“I always tell the truth.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Give me at least one occasion wherein you told the whole truth.” I challenged.

He gave a small smirk, “The day I told you that I love you, that wasn’t a lie.”

He did have a point.

The smirk of Fred’s lips widened, “Rendered you speechless love?”

I couldn’t help but give a small smile, “Shut up.” I said, lightly smacking him on the chest.

“My oh my.” Ginny mused from her spot on the couch, “Freddie, where are you going with the lady dressed in red?”

My boyfriend grinned, keeping up the act his little sister has started, “Why, Miss Ginevra, I’m taking her out and showing her a good time.”

The youngest Weasley then turned to me, “And may I ask Miss Y/N, that out of all the people in the world, why would you choose him to show you a good time?”

I laughed, “Miss Ginevra, whether you believe it or not, your brother is a very charming, and may I mention, handsome man and I couldn’t imagine anyone else showing me a good time.”

“Come on guys.” George said as he entered the room, plopping down on the space next to Ginny, “Drop the posh accent. You’re making my head ache.”

“And, on that note.” Fred said, “My sweetheart and I better be going. We still have a date to go to.”

George pretended to puke at what his twin said, “Go on, don’t let us stop you. Your mushiness makes me sick.”

Ginny smacked his shoulder, “Just wait ‘til you have a girlfriend yourself. Then we’ll see about that mushiness.”

After bidding the bickering two goodbye, we headed on to the muggle town just a few blocks near the Burrow.

Fred and I walked through the town, the two of us finally having some times for ourselves.

“Did I ever tell you how lucky I am to have you in my life?” Fred asked, interlacing our hands together.

I giggled, feeling a blush rising up to my cheeks, “And did I ever tell you how much of a blessing you are to me?”

He grinned, leaning forward and connecting our lips into a sweet, slow kiss.

I held onto his shoulders to maintain my balance, smiling into the kiss as he placed his hand on the small of my back.

We didn’t care that we were snogging right in the middle of the street. Besides, we have always lived in the moment.

At the back of my mind, I knew that this was somehow a bad idea. But the rest of my mind, was filled with nothing but the man kissing me as if there was no tomorrow.

Fred Weasley had completely taken over my senses. All my thoughts were filled with nothing else but his smell, his touch and his kiss.

We pulled apart as our lungs started to demand oxygen and my mind, once again, reminded me why it was such a bad idea.

I glanced at my side, and from afar, I could spot a group of people. They didn’t even need to come nearer for me to know that they were the press.

“Darling, are you okay?” Fred asked, seeing the worried expression on my face.

“A bit uneasy.” I admitted, grabbing his hand and running, “Come on, we’ve got to go before they catch us.”

“Who exactly is going to catch us?” Fred asked as we weaved through the crowds of people.

“The press and the paparazzi.” I said, silently being grateful for all those times we had to run away from Filch, that really gave us so much practice.

“Well, we better hurry up then.” He said, pulling me towards a deserted alley.

The both of us leaned against the wall, trying to catch our breath, the paparazzi just nearby.

“Have you seen where the princess has gone?” One of them asked.

“They just disappeared.” Another answered.

“I think they went this way.” Another one from the group said.

Their clamoring then died away as they kept on their wild goose chase.

Fred and I breathed out a breath we didn’t realize we were holding.

“So,” He said with a small laugh, “this how a day in your life is huh?”

I smiled, leave it up to my boyfriend to enlighten the atmosphere with a joke. But that’s what I loved about him.

“Yeah.” I said, “I’m pretty sure half my life was spent running from the public eye.”

“I’m also pretty sure that we’ll be making the headlines tomorrow.”

Fred chuckled, wrapping an arm around my waist, pressing a kiss on the top of my head, “Let’s go home. I think we’ve had enough of an adrenaline rush for one day and if I didn’t know better. You would just want to cuddle and watch some movies.”

I smiled, leaning into his touch, “You know me so well.”

--

Remember what I said about Fred and I making the headlines?

I was right about that.

“Well, you look at that?” Ginny said amusingly as the rest of them took turns looking at the paper, “Freddie has been deemed the mysterious companion of the princess.”

Fred chuckled, “Let me have a look at that.” He said, snatching the paper from Ron, as he read through the article.

“The least they could do was say that I was good-looking.” He jokingly scoffed.

I rolled my eyes at him, “That’s because the press has to worst taste.”

“You know.” Hermione said, “I’m quite surprised that your parents haven’t been asking you about it yet.”

Just as she uttered the last word, we heard a small thud and saw that Hedwig was by the window of the Weasley’s kitchen.

I opened the window, letting the owl plop the letter into my open palm before she flew towards Harry.

I opened the letter, already suspecting was what written in it.

The letter was from my sister, she said that our parents was furious about the headlines and they were calling for me immediately.

“Right on schedule.” I muttered, throwing the letter on the table.

“What did they say?” Fred asked, wrapping his arms around my waist.

I sighed, “The letter was from my sister. But my parents want me to head over to the palace asap. They want to speak to me there.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” He asked.

I shook my head, “I’ll be fine Freddie. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He placed a peck on my cheek, “Okay then, but if they lock you up in the dungeons just tell your sister to send me an owl and I’ll be there to rescue you faster than you could say royalty.”

I laughed pressing a brief kiss on his lips, “I’ll keep that in mind Freddie.”

--

That’s how I ended up sitting in the “meeting hall” of the palace.

“Do you know that you’re giving a press an opening for a scandal?” My mother spat as she threw the newspaper on the long table in front of us.

“What kind of scandal?” Christel voiced out the question I had been wanting to ask.

My mum softened her gaze as she looked at Christel, “Well honey, you know how the press are. Once they’ve found something interesting, they won’t care about the facts. They’ll write any story as they please. And if they find something that will definitely pique the interest of everyone, there’s a sixty-five percent chance it’ll be a scandal.”

As she stated the last sentence, she shot me a death glare from across the table.

“You should know better.” My father said from my mother’s right, “You’ll be crowned Queen soon. You know that you should avoid a scandal at all costs.”

I sighed, “Look, it’s not a scandal. There’s nothing the press can say about it. Fred and I were just hanging out.”

“In a crowded place?” She taunted.

“You always told me that, in order to avoid the press, I should always be in a crowded place.”

“You know that it’s a case-to-case scenario.”

I took a deep breath, “Look, Fred and I were just hanging out. We were doing anything that we’re not supposed to do. There’ll be no scandal, or anything like that.”

“How sure are you?” My father asked.

Silence overtook the atmosphere.

He had a point. How sure was I?

“Then, we’ll just have to trust Y/N’s word. If she says that there’ll be no scandal, then we’ll just have to take her word for it.” Christel came to my defense, giving me an encouraging smile.

I gave her a grateful smile, silently thanking her for her support as mum and dad continued to discuss about the planning for the coronation.

--

“How was it?” Fred asked as I climbed in bed next to him.

“As expected, they were furious. Saying that I’ll be causing a scandal and all. But, don’t worry, I sorted it all out.” I reassured him.

He kissed the top of my head as I leaned against his chest, “Just remember dove, I’ll always be here for you, no matter what the world throws at us.”

He took my hand, raising it up to his lips as he kissed along my knuckles, “It’ll always be us against the world.”

I smiled up at him, “Us against the world? I like the sound of that.”

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

@lumosandnoxwriting​​​​ @wand3ringr0s3​​​​ @famdomhideout​​​​ @nova-darling @gaycatlord-stuff​​​​  @pandaxnienke​​​​ @escapingrealitybyreading​​​​​ (If you are crossed out, that means I can’t tag you)

#fredweasley #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley fluff #fredweasleyimagines #fredweasleyfanfic #fredweasleyoneshots #fredweasleysmut #fred weasley angst #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #royal!au #fred weasley series #hpimagines #hponeshots

[starshipsofstarlord]

World Revelations

@etherealsxnder​

Warnings; spoilers for season 13, mentions of death, angst, lack of hope, some Alex Calvert x reader, and tiny bit of jack x reader, swearing, brief illusions to sex, angry brothers, mentions of a sex scene, insecurities, online hate, protective winchester brothers, apocalypse world, major character death, lucifer

(Y/A/N) – Your Acting Name.

A/N; it’s a little bit different from the request, so sorry about that, but I hope that any one that reads this enjoys. Also sorry about the wait, I had bad writers block, but when I started writing this it sorta figured itself out and I may have got carried away. Feel free to tell me what you think ☺️

“Look, I am not going to some other world to help stop Michael. But I can help you in another way, one where none of us get harmed.” Gabriel shrugged, reducing Sam’s expression to confusion. The archangel had felt like their last hope at retrieving their mother, into delving into the apocalypse world, and here he was, turning him down.

 He had tried his very best to make the celestial being better, and here he was, talking again, able to use his grace rather than have it removed and syringed into a demon’s veins. However, he still refused, and the hunter had no other plan in forcing Gabriel into helping. This was the last shot, and it had been blown.

 But however could he still help? This was the primary problem that had to be solved, there was no other route they could take to bring their family back together. And that was all that mattered in this life, saving people, remaining together.

 “What are you talking ab-“ Before Sam could complete his question, Gabriel set him with a poised glare, and snapped his magical fingers, a spark of electric blue grace sparking from the action. That was all Sam saw before he felt himself transported, and once he opened his eyes, he remained in the bunker, however there were cameras around him, and an entire filming crew.

 Gabriel had sent him to the other life, another world in which he presumed that he was called Jared. “What the hell Sammy?” Dean barked from beside him, twisting and turning his sights around, upon realising that although this looked like their home, it was an alternate version of it. A set, made of fake walls and truthless literature that was not at all necessary in this peaceful, monster-less realm. “Son of a bitch!”

 “Cut!” One of the cameramen called out, shaking his head exasperatedly at the line said wrong. Jensen had been doing so well, and Jensen seemed to have slipped far too into character, to the point where he had forgotten his lines. “Do you need to see the script again, or would you rather take a short break?”

 “I’ll go for the break.” Dean confirmed, grabbing Sam’s forearm and hastily dragging him from the onlookers, and towards which he assumed was his, well, Jensen’s trailer. It looked pretty much the same as last time. “Gabriel?” He asked, rightly assuming that the blame of this mishap ordeal was down to the glowing figure.

 “He refused to help us open a rift.” Sam licked his lips, his eyes jutting around the luxurious space. “And then he snapped his fingers, and we were here.” Here, another earth. However this was not their home, it was a disfigured writing of it, if anything, it was worse than the books Chuck wrote. There were more fans, and more complications that came along with being here in place of the actors.

 “We don’t have time for his tricks.” Sighed Dean, raking his hair with his rough hand. “Parading around as a painted whore is not on my agenda, all I care about is getting mum back, we have to get home quick.”

 “Dean, I don’t think that this is a trick…” Sam spoke to his elder brother, in thought of Gabriel’s words. “He said he could help us in another way. I don’t think he meant taking us away from the problem, there must be something else.” No matter how much he rolled the idea around his head, he could come to no conclusion.

 “What?” There was already plenty on the man’s mind, he didn’t need another incident coming their way. Dean was to begin speaking again, until a knock rapped against the door to his double’s trailer, intruding his mindset. Him and Sam shared a glance and frown until Dean called whomever was on the other side in, and to their dismay, he looked exactly like Castiel.

 Misha Collins. Last time they had visited this place, he had died, but the return of the real selves must have somewhat fixed the timeline, he looked well, even if he still was dressed as their angelic friend. “Hey, I was seeing if you are ready for the scene tomorrow.”

 “Scene? Which scene?” ‘Jared’ asked the colleague of his false identity, unaware of the context in which Misha spoke in. Dean only huffed and rolled his eyes, until Misha spoke, and he froze, both the brothers understanding Gabriel’s meaning for sending them to this world.

 “(Y/N)’s death scene. Apparently it’s gonna be quite emotional, and it’ll be strange after, not having the kid on set anymore.” It was a revelation, a nightmare that foreshadowed the truth in their own dimension.

 “Thanks uh- Misha.” ‘Jensen’ rubbed his hand over his face, shocked by the oncoming doom. They had already lost far too many members in their makeshift hunter family, but this was different. This was their sister, whom they had protected and vouched to continue doing since the day she was born. And now the universe had this grand plan of cutting her young life short, and sending her to either heaven or hell, where so many people they loved already were.

 “Do you know where um, (Y/A/N) is right now?” Sam asked, desperate to somehow convince her to remain on the show. It was the only way in which he could save his younger sibling, and he would, by the gods, do anything that he possibly could. Him and Dean had already had meetings with death himself, he couldn’t allow the new version to come and take you.

 Billy would not compromise, she was intent on having a Winchester under her cloak, forever taken from life, never to return to the living. And they couldn’t take a chance, any chance on not getting (Y/N) back, she was a legacy as were they, but she was supposed to live on for longer. Their names would otherwise be nothing more than memories in the world of hunters, until they faded into distant and dead members of the community.

 “In her trailer, I think. She’s rehearsing with Alexander I think.” The name that he mentioned was unfamiliar to the unfitting pair, but they spared no thought to it. Instead they sent him a quick smile before leaving the confines that they felt trapped in, and began their search for the actress of their sister.

 “We have to change her mind Sammy. If she stays on the show, then our (Y/N) lives. It is the simplest solution.” Dean spoke as they walked through the lines of trailers, unable to find the name that they were searching for on any door. “Where the hell is her damn trailer?”

 Sam squinted, until a name he had heard was seen on one of the doors. Alexander, whoever that was. Before he could even put any thought into his actions, he subconsciously knocked on the door, waiting a moment for an answer. And when the door opened, they were met with who looked like Jack, his hair a mess, and his shirt hanging over his shoulder, clearly put on in panic.

 “What’s up guys, need something?” He scratched the back of his neck, impatient with the situation, considering the one that he had been interrupted from. A part of him feared that this was one of Jared’s infamous pranks, he had mostly been on the end of shifted lines, but worse could have been heading his way for all he knew.

 Dean frowned at the sight of young man, it hardly felt right seeing the innocent boy that they knew with sex hair and slight bruises upon his neck. He cleared his throat, keeping up his expression, as he spoke to the boy. He had softened up to Jack, he was their kid in some ways, but this was no Nephilim, if anything it was worse, it was a man who impersonated they kid.

 “Heard that uh, (Y/A/N) was running lines with you. Y’know where she is?” Alex’s eyes shifted slightly inside of his personal space, before everything was given away by a familiar giggle. It sounded the exact same as the one that often left (Y/N)’s mouth. Dean knew it, he would never be capable of mistaking it.

 The noise had renegaded in his ears since she had been born, in the impala as John drove, through the halls of the bunker as her and Sam made jokes about his cholesterol. At the worst of times, before he knew that they existed, he liked to think that it was the voice of angel, she always guided him on the right path, and if she were to disappear from his life, he would sorely lose the track that he was hellbent on walking down.

 And he could see her face now, as she tugged the sheet over her body. A frown sculpted her expression, as she looked exasperatedly between Alex whom had tried to lure the tall pair from the confines of his trailer, and the intruders who had barged carelessly in. It wouldn’t have mattered so much if her and Alexander had actually been running lines, however the situation explained more than enough of the fact that they indeed were not.

 “Jared, Jensen, can you like, I don’t know, not cockblock me, for once in your elderly lives?” It felt peculiar, for both Sam and Dean. They knew that this was not their sister, but her calling them by other names was so foreign. Their skins crawled at the labelling, and it only reminded them farther of their cause, the reason that they were sent by an angelic being to be here in this very moment.

 “I am also getting bored of it.” Alexander tilted his head, in agreement with (Y/A/N), who only grinned at his compliance to suit her opinions, and Dean could only roll his eyes, just like he did with Jack the majority of the time. “But it’s cool, but can we hurry this along, I mean not to be rude, but aren’t you guys supposed to be filming a scene in like five minutes?”

 Sam cleared his throat, admittedly he did like Jack. The kid was sweet, however this was not him, it rather was a man who pretended to be a Nephilim for payment, and was bedding the doppelganger of his sister. If he were to see his sister and the devil’s child in such a compromising predicament, most people would assume he’d be the calm sibling, but they’d be wrong. He would go mad, and think of a way to keep the pair separate.

 But luckily for them, there had never been such adult situations insinuated between their dear (Y/N) and Jack, or at least not that they were aware of. This riled Dean, and so he couldn’t help but feel like exploding. It angered him that any man had laid their bare and lustrous hands upon his youngest sibling. No one was to have that pleasure, she was supposed to remain innocent, even if she were legal.

 “Seriously?! Jack of all people?!” He bellowed at (Y/A/N), shaking his head at their obvious exchange. If (Y/A/N) had any clothes on underneath the white sheet that hugged her body as she lay on the sofa, her instincts would have driven her over to Jensen and her palm would have met the side of his stubbly face.

 “First of all, you need to start remembering Alex’s name, and that goes for Jared too. You can’t just keep calling him Jack, even after I’m done here and move onto my next project.” Her words, although not having the intent to, had the effect of triggering Sam’s goal, in-deliberately reminding him of their foremost goal. It was not to get angry at the characters that played them and their loved ones, it was to save someone that was incredibly important to their world.

 “And second,” the woman in covering continued, “this isn’t exactly going to get me to stay on the goddamn show, if you barge in here, interrupting our privacy. If you don’t like what me and Alex are doing off screen, you sure aren’t going to like what is gonna go down between (Y/N) and Jack. Sometimes I do swear that you’re just like Sam and Dean.”

 The jab she made at them struck nerves, but they knew that this was not the real her. It may have looked like (Y/N), but this was only a woman who played the part of her. “We’ve been trying to make you stay on the show?” Sam asked, his voice soft. He didn’t want to be harsh, she was already uncomfortable enough.

 It was her unknowing that they were actually Sam and Dean that could be an element that they could use, a tool of convincing. “Yes, for weeks now.” (Y/A/N) sighed, pinching the point that was between her eyebrows. “And I’m getting tired of it, and overall, this character. I’ve played her for years on end, I think that her story should have a finishing point, a finale. I’m ready for bigger and brighter things, something that is not pretending to be a strong woman on set, and as soon as I walk away from the cameras, I go back to being weak.”

 “I think you’re going to have to explain a little more if I’m going to get any of that.” Dean prompted, both him and Sam had turned away, giving the actress in the sheets the privacy to change. The shuffling of fabrics could be heard, they had been in worse situations with their sister, small motel rooms, of which they could usually only afford one in the past, helped nobody. And none of them received the personal space that should have been an outright human right.

 “Of course neither of you understand.” Alex sighed, “she wants a smaller workspace, one where there aren’t so many eyes on her. The whole ordeal got out of hand, and now there are people online saying terrible things about her and I. Neither of you have made such a mistake, or had something so sacred and personal leaked on the internet. The things people say really digs in deep, she at least wants a break, can’t you understand that?”

 “Wait, what got leaked?” Sam’s curiosity often informed him of things that he did not wish to be aware of, and this was one of their instances. Alex huffed and rolled his eyes, walking over to where (Y/A/N) was now fully clothed, and took a seat on the sofa beside her, their eyes meeting and mirroring smiles shining at one another.

 The sight admittedly made Sam smile, but it made Dean feel internally sick. The sight of what looked like their sister and Jack fuelled a fire inside of him, he wanted his eyes to burn and the memory to be forever removed from his sights.

 “Look, you play a pretty badass character, although I’d say Dean has a bit more kick to him.” The man himself chuckled, but no one joined in, so he continued through a forced smile, coming to sit down next to Alex, his ignorance to what happened there merely minutes ago encouraging his brother to cringe.

  “But that’s not my only point, you’re here, whilst those sad souls that sit behind their computers all day waste their time typing crap. The life you have, the family that you have here, is worth more than the opinions of a few, invisible idiots, who are only jealous of everything that you have earned for yourself. Don’t breathe their toxicity win, because if you do, the bad guys win, and then you will only fade out of the spotlight and they’ll forget all about you, and all of the things they ever posted about you.”

 Alex had been understanding through all of (Y/N)’s decision to leave the cast, although to begin with he had tried to convince her to stay. And it seemed out of all of them, it was Jensen that made her reconsider her options, he could see it behind her eyes, the unravelling of interest, the flickering of hope.

 The only thing that the younger actor could not tell were that these were not Jensen’s words, they fell from the lips of Dean Winchester himself. A character that he knew of, and was an important symbol on the show that he was cast on. But it did not matter if he was not aware of that snippet, because it changed nothing, other than possibly (Y/A/N)’s mindful decision.

 “You know what, you’re right Ackles. It’s not often that I say that, but the thought of leaving everyone here, settling for something that I have no connection to or history with, it is undermining. And I’m going to talk to Kripke, he’ll be over the moon with the consideration, however if he chooses that (Y/N) is to die as was planned due to my indecisiveness, then that shall be the battle that I am to bargain with.” They had won (Y/A/N) over, it was victory.

 It was also the closest that they could do by themselves to save (Y/N). If this didn’t work, they would be nothing more than John’s broken tools, defined by all those that they were always mourning. And it would only make their sister another name on that sour list, even if her death would pain them substantially more than others.

 “I guess we’ll go then.” Sam awkwardly spoke, encouraging Dean to stand from the christened furniture and join him in leaving the sexually active couple alone. He sent the woman a nod, and Alex a raised eyebrow. He would have Jack’s head if he ever thought he had the guts or wings to be so intimate with their sister, he’d make him feel something, and it would be painful. Torturous even.

 They shut the door behind them as they departed from the actors, a smirk on Dean’s face. He felt victorious, he was the same hero that would read (Y/N) stories when it was dark and a storm was thundering outside, as she hid under the duvet of some dingy motel bed, a torch protecting her from the enveloping bleakness, but also her brothers. “I’d call this a win.”

 “They said about a video…” Sam had Jared’s phone in his hand, he scrolled through the feed with a wrinkled nose and scorned eyes. After he received an answer to what it was concluding, he put the device away, he could never look at Jack and (Y/N) around each other the same again. It was burdened by the facts of this world, contradicting the innocence that both the kids in their world showed. “It was a leaked sex scene of the show, Dean.”

 “Heck no!” Growled the elder brother, shaking his head. The instant images that flashed through his mind of the Nephilim atop of his little sister made his teeth grit in anger, and a pit of queasiness fold in the cave of his stomach. He already wasn’t too sure on Lucifer’s spawn, this only enhanced that formed opinion, and he wished to shoot the child more than ever in this instant, even if the real him was not around.

 “They’re not actually the people we know Dean.” Sam comforted him, easing his anger, but only slightly. “Nothing like that has happened between them, he is in another world, whilst (Y/N) is in the bunker, reading lore and trying to find a way to bring mum and Jack back to us.”

 “Yet Sammy, nothing has happened yet.” He allowed himself to shut his eyes for a second, and the next thing that he knew, he was returned home. His speech must have worked on the employee of the show Supernatural, otherwise, Gabriel surely would not have returned them to their home world.

  “He’s gone, for chuck sake. How are we supposed to bring Jack and Mary back if we don’t have archangel grace?!” The stressed voice of their younger sibling often triggered a debate from the brothers, but seeing and hearing her, it was a miracle. They couldn’t waste time and argue, instead Sam lurched forward, grabbing the girl and bringing her into the embrace of his giant like arms.

“We’ll figure it out (Y/N/N), we always do.” He spoke softly, earning a confused yet pleased smile. The hug had come out of nowhere, but it calmed her nerves, the rushing of the blood that hurtled around the veins of her body slowed, and it gave her a moment of peace, a blank mind before she began researching again.

 “I have a question.” Dean stated with his gruff tone, squinting at his female sibling. He suppressed a smile, she was oblivious to the blockade that had rested above her head like a raincloud, but he knew that she was here for good. And that she was not leaving to any sort of afterlife any time soon. “Do you have the hots for Jack?”

 (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, however she forced a scoff to hide the shock and cover up anything that her brothers could pick up on. She released herself from Sam’s hold, taking a couple of simple steps backwards, so that she could have a clear view of the expressions that both of them wore. “Are you seriously asking me that at a time like this?” Her sentence was finished with a sigh and a roll of her eyes.

 But her brothers knew their sister well enough, and that she indeed did not want to admit something to them. (Y/N) was much easier to read than (Y/A/N) was, they had known this growing woman since the day that she was born, the same day in which John rescued the shrieking baby from a mother that was fed and eaten by wolves. She would have been next, however the hunter saved her, as was in his job description, but he couldn’t bare to let her stream through the system.

 He felt an attachment to her, and looking at her was practically the same as the notion of peering at one of his boys. She was to be a Winchester, he hadn’t decided it, but God himself did. The universe worked in mysterious ways, it was as though it was all written out for the family, but this instant, none of them minded. It gave the boys another reason to fight, another person to love, and eventually another family member to lose.

 But it had been evaded this time, Gabriel had although not helped them with reaching their mother and the son of Kelly Kline, however, he had somewhat saved (Y/N) himself. Without his trickster interference, they’d have never known of her doomed fate, or have been able to fix it.

 “I’ll take that as a yes.” Dean was smug with being right, as he always was. Overall though, he was more pleased to know that they had stopped the crumbling of the bottom of the family tree, they had protected their sister, literally to the ends of the world.

 “Pick up a damn book and help me, I’m not doing all of this research by myself.” Another sign that he was indeed correct, changing the subject, how original. But neither of the brothers, more so Dean than Sam, even wanted to try and switch the mindset that (Y/N) had about the boy. They were allowed to have feelings, romantic and so on, and their sister appeared happy with the tether that was from her heart to Jack’s.

   The vampires were almost mutated. This apocalypse world had really taken a toll on all life. Michael of this plain had destroyed everything that was known to be true, even living itself. The habitat of these morsal creatures was dark, and disgusting. Humans had already tried to pass through the deadly lair to reach the other side, to get to the rebellion camp, however, no one had survived to the opposite end of things.

 (Y/N) felt hopeless, even as she walked through the home of the starving monsters. She had never been a fan of vampires, no hunter was, but this was cruel to every extent. They didn’t even appear as human anymore, their fates had been cursed by this ruined land. Without the world that was in her own, they would be worse off, everything in this dimension was.

 Everyone of their company was on edge, Dean ensured that he kept a sturdy eye forward, looking for any light. He knew (Y/N) would have to be okay, it was paved for her to be so in the other universe, she’d be fine. Of course, he still worried, that was what he did in retrospect, all day, every day, he worried that it was to be someone’s last.

 And he was right, as the monsters crept from the dark, tasting the scent of rushing blood in the air. They had lured them from their slumber, and they began to attack, dragging one of the travellers towards their death, where they would be fed on until he was completely drained. (Y/N) swung her machete, beheading one of the animals without a second glance, but perhaps she should have spared another look on the side, as she was a target.

 She was the prey to what she was raised to hunt, it wrapped its clawed hand around her leg like a coil, dragging her to the ground, and feasting its teeth into her supple flesh. This was it, there was no route away from her fate, and her body was already weak from blood loss, and so she gave up, and refused to fight. Her body was dragged into the abyss of the nest, and its members followed after her.

 Sam noticed their apparent glee, they had yet again prized food from them. He looked around to see whom it may be, and he was aghast with the sight. (Y/N) had her eyes shut as her limp form was being taken by vampires, and he froze, traumatised by the sight. And his surprised and hurt stature gave another of the beasts the perfect opportunity to rip into the rubber of his neck, and relish in the unstoppable river of blood that poured out from the fatal wound.

 “No!” Dean cried out, noticing that his sister too had disappeared. Before he could follow after the menaces and get vengeance, and possibly save his family from being the meal of savages, Castiel grasped his arm, pain rendering in the blueness of his vessel’s eyes.

 “They’re gone Dean.” His words rang through the hunter’s head. This was his worst nightmare. Gabriel’s warning had not helped at all, because (Y/N) was dead, and so was Sam. He forced himself to trudge on, pained like no other time before. Sam had died before, but he had always found a way to retrieve him back into life, and even through his tragic absence, he always had (Y/N). Now, the only other Winchester was his mother, who also needed to be saved from this damned world.

   “Think about it Sammy, Jack is going to be so pleased to see you alive, but your little sis, well, I’m sure that is going to be one hell of a reunion between them.” Lucifer smirked, he was in Nick’s body again, using it as a vessel. “And he’ll think of me as a saviour, a knight that saved his princess from a terrible fate.”

 The fallen archangel always had ulterior motives, and Sam realised that he had no choice in whether he’d rather remain dead, or be used as a bargaining chip by the devil himself. His interest in Jack was not exactly pure, it was clear to the man that he sought the backup, the power of his biological son. His intent was to creep into the boy’s mind, and decipher for the kid the difference between wrong and right.

 “That’s what you want, to lie to him about who you are?” He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised, even more so that the audience of vampires were seething to break free from Lucifer’s force. He wasn’t even supposed to be here, he should have been in the bunker, his grace feeding away at Rowena’s spell, and keeping the gate open for their return.

 “I’ll just bend the truth to fit the story, and I care about my son. As you care about your dear sister, and it would be a shame if she were not to wake, and then the news will have to be delivered to my boy, and I’m sure that would just break his half and half heart.” The celestial being, the epidemy of evil tutted at the thought, only to send Sam a mischievous smirk afterwards. “You don’t want him to be like me, but without her, he’ll be in so much pain that he won’t think about his actions. If he has (Y/N/N), then that choice will be entirely up to him, and what he believes in, yada yada yada.”

 The sight of his sister covered in her own blood, motionless on the ground, bite marks on her shoulders and elsewhere drew out a desperation in Sam. He couldn’t not allow the villain to bring her back to life, and it seemed that no matter what he disputed, that Lucifer would do it anyway, to get himself in Jack’s good books. And so he hung his head low, awaiting the personal enemy of his to resurrect the most important woman in his life.

 On first instinct, (Y/N) gasped in air. There was a lack of it rolling around the vitals of her lungs, but her breath was taken away once more, when she saw the looming of a horrifying figure, a first son of god. He was supposed to be, even if forced to do so by the traditions of magic, be at the bunker, revelling them with a way back. Rowena had been left there also, to keep the spell brewing, and a fearful eye on the hellish shadow.

 Assumingly, he had escaped his sentence, and for some reason, brought her to life. It was no mistake as to what the vampires had done to her, she could smell the spilling of her own blood over her thrifted and worn clothes, and it was gruesome. Although it was not the hunter’s first time in being a sponge to her injuries, but nevertheless, she fought to stand beside Sam, who steadied her shaken feet, and balanced out the rest of her body by looping his supportive arm around her waist.

 “Come on.” Lucifer rolled the human eyes that he wore like spectacles into the lives of the Winchesters, unimpressed by the slowness of the world’s large cockroaches. “We have places to be and sons to meet.” At his verbalised of clarity for his ungodly presence, (Y/N)’s body became rigid. His intent was to get to Jack, she couldn’t allow him to provoke a fire inside the boy.

 He was sweet and innocent, even harmless, despite the accident that had happened when he accompanied her and her brothers on a hunt. If Lucifer reached him, he would only try and navigate the darkness inside of him to be what it was, rather than try and make him change it into something brighter, something that was good, like Kelly would have wanted.

 “No.” (Y/N) refused, earning a frown from Sam and a elongated groan from Lucifer. She had died, it didn’t matter if she were to return to that fate, not if she stood by what she truly believed in. Nothing much would change, other than the vampires getting another meal from the same body, Dean already thought that she was extinguished from life, and the news would be passed on before any of them were to reach him.

 “Oh, for crying out loud!” The devil shook his wolfish head, Winchesters were always so stubborn. “I’d allow it if Sam were to stand against the gift of life, I’ve seen what is inside of his head after all, but you! You’re the priority here, you are Jack’s weakness.” This gesture of good faith seemed to be more than it was worth, but if she didn’t comply willingly, then he would force her to follow him along, and live.

 “Where’d you hear that from? He doesn’t have a weakness, he just has a good heart. I’m just another person that he lives with, a soldier that is going to fight anyone that dares to try and hurt him. And I won’t mind if I have to give my life to try and kill you.” She spat at the disgrace of heaven, hardly moved by his goal. As a Winchester, the stubbornness ran through her veins, even if the bloodline itself did not.

 “I hear things, and I did in that bunker. Like how Dean was speaking about you and Jackie boy, and how it all made sense. The shared looks, the flushed faces, all that gross stuff. He didn’t seem too happy with the circumstances, but he was content with the fact that you were alive, like you are again, because of me.”

Lucifer was the last person that (Y/N) would thank for her existence, but she realised that there was no way out of his trap, she was the bait for Jack, that would reel the boy into the wings of his dreaded father.

He could sometimes be so naive, that she feared that Jack would fall for the extension of kindness, one that hardly suited Lucifer. But that was up to him, and in this apocalyptic version of her world, anything could happen.

“She’s dead.” Dean’s voice was gravelly, it had been dragged through hope, and now the realisation that his baby brother and sister were lost to life. The eyes belonging to Jack widened, and tears began to form.

He could quite comprehend how he felt. There was a tearing in his chest, he felt as though he was being split apart, his breathing rapidly increased, and his eyes flared like the bursts of the sun.

Until whispers hit his ears, and he looked up, only to see the girl alive and well. He was not the only one relieved in the circumstances, Dean and Mary were too, but they feared the fact that Lucifer had joined them, and was being trailed by the bloodied siblings; the ones that he had saved for his selfish purposes.

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[writings-of-a-british-fangirl]

Changing Spirits (Zuko x Reader) [Everything Has Changed Part 3]

Title: Changing Spirits Summary: You settled in with the gang, but are confronted by a very real issue when Zuko reveals that he's 'lost' his fire bending ability. You also relive memories of the past Warnings: None really Request: Some of you wanted part 3 so here it is!!

A/N: Been recieving a lot of positivity and love on the last two parts so thank you for that! xx

PART 1: EVERYTHING HAS CHANGED PART 2: CHANGE IS GOOD PART 3: CHANGING SPIRITS PART 4: A HEART OF CHANGE

Zuko~Changing Spirits

Waking up in a new environment was strange. It was colder than the fire nation, a gentle breeze could be felt through out the temple. It wasn't unwelcomed, however. You shifted in your bed, and glanced over at Zuko. He was still asleep, and for the first time in forever he looked relaxed. You gently rise and prop yourself up with one hand, and slowly take in the room.

     It felt weird to be in a place like this.

    The fire nation had always taught you growing up that it was the most glorious nation in existence: that it had the best architecture, the most clever scientists, the only worthy culture- and yet you find yourself almost in awe here. How different would've it have been had it not been for your people 100 years ago... You try not to think about it.

    Taking one last look at Zuko, you get out of bed. You decide to leave him sleeping. He looks so peaceful, it would be a shame to disturb him. And, besides, you know he needs the sleep. He hadn't slept well in the fire nation; he told you himself. He couldn't sleep, not with the guilt he felt. You wished you could sleep longer too; you know you need the rest. Hunger calls you, though, and so does curiosity. Although you feel nervous about how the gang will react to you, you know that they wouldn't deny you food. Or, at least, you hoped they wouldn't.

---

"Hi," you awkwardly say as you leave the temple, approaching the group of misfit teens in front of you, "Uh, I just wondered if I'd missed breakfast..."

    You feel stupid now after saying it out loud, and you want the ground to swallow you whole as there is no immediate reply from the gang. Your heart begins to sink, and you want to back away, but you lift your head as you hear Toph speak.

    "I thought you and moody were never going to get up," Toph teases with a smile on her face, "Breakfast is over there."

     "Thank you," you murmur, "Zuko is sleeping in- yesterday was quite a long day."

     You sit down next to Sokka, making sure to leave enough space between the two of you so that you don't offend him or make him uncomfortable. You grab a bowl of breakfast- it smells delicious. Doing your best to be quiet and let the others speak, you listen to their conversation. It's hard to imagine less than a year ago this is who you were hunting. So much has changed. You were deep in thought, only to be brought from it by Sokka's voice.

    "So what's the deal with you and the prince of darkness anyway? Are you dating or something?" Sokka asks and you are kind of taken aback. `      You look up, a blush on your face.

     "Ur, no... No, it's not like that," you insist.

     "Your heart rate says otherwise," Toph laughs.

     You shoot her a look that you're sure she can feel.

     "We're just friends. We've been friends since we were kids. His mum... She took me in when my parents died. My father- he lost his life in the war and my mother... She was very ill for a long time. I owe Zuko and his mother my life," you open up to them, "I'm sorry I overshared I didn't-"

     "-I'm sorry that happened to you," Aang says, "That can't have been easy to share."

    "I don't think I've told anyone else that. Showing emotion in the fire nation is weakness," you tell them, "I know it's no excuse but I was brain washed from a young age. I'm glad I'm out here, doing the right thing."

     "You're right it doesn't excuse the things you've done," Katara says, "And, it can never undo the things you've done."

     "Katara, I-"

    "-But, I'm glad you've joined us."

    "You are?"

    "I saw how hard you fought to save us from-"

    "-Combustion Man," Sokka interrupts.

    Katara glares at him before continuing, "Yes, Combustion Man, and I don't entirely trust you or Zuko yet because that comes with time but I'm glad you chose the right side."

    "I know I can never undo what I've done, but I have changed. I'm sorry for what the fire nation did to your village- to all of your homes, and all of your families... The fire nation did a lot more than attack other nations- first they started with their own. I don't want the fire nation to be seen like that anymore.

      My grandmother used to tell me stories of what the world was like before the war: all I want is to do my part in restoring that world. "

    You and Katara share a look, and for the first time since you joined the Avatar, you finally have a moment of understanding.

---

When Zuko wakes up, he is alone. Panic sets in and he thinks something is wrong. But, then he waits and listens; he calms down when he hears your voice. It sounds like you're talking to the gang. Zuko can't help but smile when he hears your laughter. He hesitates for a second, before getting out of bed, and following the sound of your voice down the halls.

---

You hear footsteps and your head turns. It's Zuko: you smile at him and gesture for him to come over. He follows your lead cautiously and sits beside you. You serve him a bowl of breakfast, and go back to listening to the group talk. From one side, you can feel Zuko looking at you. When you gaze towards him, he looks away.

    "How did you sleep?" you murmur to Zuko.

    "Good..." Zuko replies, "What about you? You weren't there when I woke up."

    "Oh, sorry," you say, putting your bowl of breakfast down, "I didn't want to wake you up. You looked like you needed a few more minutes."

     Zuko blushes, but doesn't say anything else.

     The day rolls on, and Zuko begins trying to teach Aang how to how to fire bend, which was proving more and more difficult by the hour. You decided not to watch them train. You'd sparred with Zuko on many occasions, and you thought your presence wouldn't make the situation any better. So, you decided to try and bond with the girls of the group.

     Meanwhile, Sokka was dedicated to annoying Zuko.

    "Come on Sifu Hotman," Sokka teased, "Where's your giant flames now?"

    "I'm trying Sokka," Zuko said through gritted teeth, "Maybe it's that I can't concentrate when the only thing I can hear is the sound of your voice!"

    "Maybe we should get your girlfriend to come and give you a pep talk," Sokka laughed.

    Aang suppressed a laugh under his hand.

    "Y/N isn't my girlfriend," Zuko yelled back.

    "I never mentioned anything about Y/N- but if the shoe fits..."

    "Go away!" Zuko fumed, resisting the urge to grab Zuko.

    "I think it's best if you leave, Sokka," Aang says trying to diffuse the situation.

    Sokka glanced at Aang and then gave a shrug. He made his way over to the rest of the gang, ignoring the glare he could feel in the back of his head- mostly likely from Zukko. ...Who was he kidding? It was definitely from Zuko. For some reason talking about you was a really good way to push Zuko's buttons. Sokka didn't mean anything malicious by it, but it was a small revenge to annoy him about you.

    The water tribe boy sat down beside his sister with a huff.

    "Got bored of watching the fire bending did we?" Katara asked.

    "No, mostly because there wasn't much fire bending going on," Sokka said, before looking at you, "And, by the way your boyfriend is being extra moody today."

    "He's not my- You know what, never mind," you stop yourself, "Wait, what do you mean by there wasn't much fire bending going on? Zuko's an excellent fire bender. You've all seen it- ah sorry Toph, I mean experienced it."

     "No sweat," Toph reassures.

     "I don't know," Sokka says, "All I know is that Sifu Hotman wasn't very hot."

     "...That's strange," you murmur.

---

When Zuko and Aang come back later, you can tell something is off. Zuko seems upset, and angry... And, disappointed. You paused for a moment before saying anything. Something big was off. You'd seen Zuko grumpy before, but this wasn't just some small irritation. This was something huge.

     "Listen everybody," Zuko announced, "I've got some pretty bad news. I've lost my stuff."

     He sighs and looks down. 'His what?' you thought.

     "Don't look at me," Toph exclaimed folding her arms, "I didn't touch your stuff."

     "I'm talking about my fire bending. It's gone," Zuko corrected.

     No, it couldn't be. That didn't make any sense. Zuko couldn't have lost his fire bending. He needed to teach Aang fire bending. Aang needed to master all four elements to defeat the Fire Lord. Oh, this was bad this was really bad. Part of you heard the others speak, but you weren't really listening. You were too busy panicking.

     You interrupt them, "There's got to be a way to get it back though right?"

     Zuko just kept his eyes to the ground.

     "He just needs to go back to the original source of fire bending," Toph says confidently, "I learned earth bending from the badger moles. They were the original earth benders."

     "The dragons," you murmur, "They were the original fire benders."

     "And, they're extinct," Zuko huffs.

     "How? What happened? Roku had a dragon," Aang says.

     "They just are extinct okay?" Zuko snaps, turning away from the group.

     Even though the dragons were extinct, the culture that worshipped them still had ruins. And, they weren't too far away. It was worth a shot. Anything was at this point. It was Zuko's destiny to teach Aang fire bending, you know it was- and, yet it was getting so difficult so early on. You sighed and put your head in your hands. No. No, it was too early for defeat. Zuko and Aang needed to visit the Sun Warrior's ruins. It was at least worth a shot.

     Zuko and Aang had packed basic supplies and set off for the Sun Warrior's ruins. You tried not to feel too worried for them, but it was hard not to when you barely knew anything about the Sun Warriors. ...But, they went extinct so nothing good could've happened to them.

     "Try not to miss me too much," you say to Zuko.

     Zuko gives a small smile.

     You hesitate then bring him in for a hug.

     "Stay safe, okay?" you murmur more seriously.

     You feel him hug back.

     "I'll do my best to come back in one piece."

     "You better."

---

You were thinking about Zuko all the rest of the day. They were gone too long for your liking.  Sleeping alone in the room without Zuko didn't feel right. You tossed and turned and settled on your back. Your eyes stared up at the ceiling before your forced yourself to close them. You think back to all the times you spent sleeping beside Zuko- from sleep overs as a child, to on his war ship, to the small room in Ba Sing Sei... It didn't feel right: being without him.

     You thought back to when you were children and you had snuck into his room.

~~~

    "Zuko!" you yelled out, "Help me up."

    The little prince ran to his window to see you clutching at his balcony. You'd scaled the side of the building, and had your hand wrapped around one of the rungs of the balcony. Zuko grabbed at your hand, and hauled you onto the balcony. You laughed as you fell into a lump onto Zuko.

    "What the hell are you doing?" Zuko whisper-yelled, "Are you trying to wake everyone up?"

    "No," you smiled, "I was trying to see you."

     Zuko rolled his eyes.

    "You could just use the door you know," he said, cracking a smile.

    "Where's the fun in that?" you beamed, "Besides it was a very important mission: I hadn't seen you all day. I had to sneak in to make sure no enemies caught me."

     "Yeah, sorry about that... I had 'royal stuff' to do with my father. I'd much rather spend time with you."

      You smiled and begin telling him about your day, and your plans for tomorrow. Soon, it got later and later. The sun had set and you were both getting tired. You told Zuko you were going to go back to your room, but Zuko insisted you stay in his. You know- in case any enemies caught you. You caved in and clambered into his bed with him. It was your first sleep over ever!

     And, it wouldn't be your last.

     Zuko's mother opened the door, to check on her son. She smiled softly as she saw you and Zuko tucked up into bed. She didn't want to disturb you both so she just whispered good night, and gently closed the door. She always knew you and Zuko shared a life long bond.

      If only she could see you now...

~~~

You hadn't mean to sleep in... It just sort of happened. It was probably a sign though; you needed the rest, and you had finally let the weight of everything sink in. The reality of your situation was finally settling in, and despite the conflict you had initially faced, you were here. Alive. And, for now well.

     You'd were finally drawn from your sleep from a commotion. Voices.

     Your ears practically pricked up at the sound of footsteps. Were Aang and Zuko finally back? Your question was answered when Zuko stepped into the door frame. You chucked your bed sheets off and ran to him. It was him this time that brought you in for a hug.

     "You were gone so long."

     "I know, I'm sorry," Zuko murmured.

     "I hope this means you found something there," you say, breaking contact with him, "And, that you're a fire bending master again?"

      "You could say that. Let's just say the dragons aren't as extinct as we thought."

      "Good, because I was getting worried I was going have to take up the role of the grumpy fire bender in the group," you teased.

      "Oh, so what role do you take?"

      "I'm obviously the fun fire bender," you smiled, "Who brings the life to the party."

      "Oh yeah, obviously."

      Little did you know, Zuko had been thinking of you all the time he had been gone. As he learned about the original source of fire bending, he couldn't help but think back to you. And, he took you into his heart. Once, he was driven by anger and the desire to catch the Avatar.

     That had changed: his motivations had changed. His very spirit had changed. He now wanted to save the world.

     And, protect you.

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko imagine #zuko imagines #prince zuko #prince zuko x reader #prince zuko imagine #prince zuko imagines #avatar #avatar imagine #avatar imagines #atla #atla imagine #atla imagines #Avatar The Last Airbender #Avatar the Last Air Bender #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender imagines #one shot #imagine #imagines #reader imagines #reader insert #character x reader

[spookyboywhump]

Would Nicholas ever do that? Like put a spider on Puppy Cain. As punishment or just for the fun of it.

I know you said once that Zander got rid of the spiders once Charles died for Cain, but like. Did he let Zander go give them to a shop... did he kill them?

Did Zander ever experience Charles making fun/forcing Cain to face his fear? How did he feel about it?

I'm pretty sure you named Cain after a character, but is there a reason that Charles would choose that name? Or did his mum choose it?

What age was Cain when he found out his mum was dead? How did he find out?

Would Wren ever exploit Cains phobia? Cause I know Zander wouldn't.

What's Charles afraid of?

I'm sorry, but last question.

Can I punch Charles Wittaker?

(I know this is long no pressure in answering, or if you prefer separate asks I can do that)

Oooo okie let’s see here

Nicholas absolutely would do something like this to him.

I don’t know if I specified Zander getting rid of them but, despite his disdain for the creatures, Cain wouldn’t have wanted to outright kill them, he would’ve called somebody who actually handles those things as pets to take care of them and get them the hell out of his house while he hid safely in another room. He probably did consider just telling Zander to take them all outside or some shit but the idea of one finding it’s way back into the house was too much for him.

He might not have seen any spider to Cain contact but he would’ve heard his father mocking and berating him for it. It pissed him the hell off but he’d already learned his lesson about defending Cain at that point.

In a way, Cain was named after the biblical Cain, because I took the name from a line in a song mentioning “the mark of Cain”. It was supposed to be Zander’s name, but the full line is “Carved In My Arm, The Mark Of Cain” so I made it Cain’s name, as a funny little haha because Zander’s brand was originally gonna be a scar, carved in his arm. As for his parents’ reason for choosing the name, they wanted to give him a name beginning with the letter C to match theirs (Charles & Caroline Whitaker), so they went off a list of those names. His father wanted to name his son after himself. His mother adamantly refused. His father liked the sound of the name Cain, his mother thought it was a terrible name for her child. A long argument finally came to the agreement that his father could choose the first name, as long as it wasn’t his own, and his mother could choose his middle name with no input from his father. So, Cain Augustine Whitaker.

Cain was around 7 or 8 when his mother “disappeared”, but he didn’t find out she was dead until he was 17, he overheard his father talking about it to someone else when he wasn’t supposed to be home. He did not take it well. He knows she was laid to rest somewhere but he still doesn’t know where.

Wren would but he wouldn’t have realized it was a full phobia. If he thought Cain was just a lil scared of bugs he would’ve done smth like held a spider up to him but once he realized by his reaction it was a full blown phobia even he would’ve felt kinda bad.

Neither god nor death that’s for sure. I don’t think he was scared of much of anything.

Please do. He deserves it.

#death mention #death tw #spiders tw #hehehe I had fun with these #oc stuff #wren #cain #zander #Charles Whitaker #as you can imagine from her dealing with that man #Caroline Whitaker could be a very stubborn woman #I love that whenever Cain’s dad gets brought up everybody wants to beat the shit out of him #which is the right course of action #fuck Charles Whitaker #unicornscotty

[zodiyack]

Under Stars

Requested by anon: Hi, my love! I have a request where Y/N take the bullets instead of John. Like, she put herself in front of him allowing him to kill those men. She sees herself alone, since Thomas is married, Arthur has Linda and everyone is kinda moving on with their lives. After discussions (which makes her fell alone and useless) , Y/N sacrifices herself for John and his happinness, saying before she dies something like "I want you all to be happy". Sorry if u already made something like that + (Addition to their request)

Pairing: Shelby Family & Gray Family + Shelby!reader (no romance)

Warnings: Death, angst, murder, mention of depression, sad soft stuffs

Note: TITLE IS INSPIRED BY AURORA’S “UNDER STARS” FOR THE MEANING OF THE SONG WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE  K BYE I’M SORRY! Also; extra bit at the end, I added it cause the title, I hope it’s okie! I cried while writing this oml

Taglist: @matth1w​ @redspaceace​

masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

“Got nothin’ better to do on Christmas morning?” John put down his gun when he realized it was only Michael.

“Tommy wants everybody at Charlie’s yard now, come on.” Michael gave a slight tilt of his head. Y/n creeped out next to John, hair messed up from her nieces’ and nephews’ game of climbing on their aunt human-sized-jungle gym the previous night. They sure were excited hear that their aunt would be staying for Christmas.

He turned, pushing his dog into the house and trying to close the door so they could get going. “Get in. Get in!” They walked around, “What’s going to happen? It’s fucking Christmas.”

“Look John, we don’t have time for this.”

“Alright, just come into the house.” Michael interrupted him, “Just come to the meeting-” but he continued like Michael never even spoke. “Have some food”

Esme rushed to the door, pushing John aside when he opened it, despite his “ey”s, and stomped over to Michael. She got extremely close to his face and angerly spat out her take on the situation, “Tell Tommy Shelby we can look after ourselves!”

However, Michael remained calm. “Tommy says they could come for us today, Esme-”

“’Tommy says’,” she turned to John and Y/n, repeating her mimic, “‘Tommy says’,” turning back to Michael, she released the same anger, “Are you his fucking parrot?!”

“Look, it’s the mafia! Alright? This is the New York mafia we’re talking about!”

“And we’re the Peaky fucking Blinders.” John stated, gun slung over his shoulder.

“No, we’re not, John! We’re not the Peaky fucking Blinders unless we’re together!”

Esme stepped closer to Michael, “You were together in the gallows, with one man missing.”

Michael took a second, then ignored Esme and returned to his calmed state. “John. John, come to the meeting. All right? Think about the kids.” John’s gaze began to move, as did his body when Esme turned to see his reaction, “Come to the meeting, and if you want to leave, then fine.”

“No. It’s Christmas day. We have a family now, we’re staying at home!” Esme shouted. Michael looked to Y/n with a pleading raise of his eyebrows. She closed her eyes and shook her head with shrug, there wasn’t much she could do to change Esme’s mind.

A man pushed over a hay bale, vaulting over it and readying his gun.

John, already facing the direction of the cart, did the same, cocking his gun and yelling to Esme and his sister. “In the fucking house!”

Michael lifted his head, noticing the man and cart. “Esme-” More men jumped out. Michael recognized the cart, which he had passed on the way here. The honking of his car’s horn as he rushed, a form of pleading for it to move out of his way.

John fired at them, hitting a hay bale but missing the men. “John!” Michael pushed Esme inside and tossed a gun to his cousin, who ran beside her brother in an attempt to help. She quickly realized her brother’s mistake in the choice of his gun. He was quick to shoot again, but the men were quick to shoot back, weapons faster than his shot gun.

Esme halted behind the door, glancing to the siblings with fear. No. It couldn’t be. It pained her just much as it would had it been the other Shelby. It wasn’t John, though he had been in the front, it was his sister. She pushed herself in front of her brother. Unknown to anyone but her, her mind flashed with thoughts of her family, of John’s family. Of Charlie and her other nieces and nephews. Of her mother.

The bullets hit her in repetition, over and over and over again. The bullets from the mafia continued hitting her stomach and chest leaving bloodied holes in her clothing and body. Time felt like it was moving in slow motion.

Y/n felt nothing but content. Peaceful. Free.

The violent scene resumed around her soon-to-be-lifeless body as she dropped to the ground. Michael was hit with a bullet, not enough to kill him, but grazing him just right, just enough, to make him drop to the ground as well, dragging John down with him.

A peaceful moment. Though she now lie hanging onto life as tight as she could, maybe just to say goodbye, she felt peaceful. A smile found it’s way onto her face, the shock and pain got to her, a dreamy look filled her eyes.

She could hear Esme’s painful screams, the agony and sorrow dripping from her throat. She felt John lift her head onto his lap and his tears drip onto her face. His face was red, nose snotty and eyes puffy as he cried for her to hold on. As he cried and told her that they’d find someone who could help. As he told her that they would kill the mafia for what they did to his sister.

“J-John.” She coughed up blood. Her head twitched slightly as John’s hand caressed her cheek, Esme and Michael now kneeling over her body as well. Y/n’s eyes scanned Michael’s wounds, to which he gave her a look. A look that read regret and possibly a message of “now’s not the time”.

“Take c-care of Esme and y-your kids. Tell them I-I love them. Tell all of our fam-family I l-love them.” She smiled up at his teary face, blood coating her teeth and spilling out of her mouth a bit. “I want you all to be happy.” 

With that last sentence, her eyes stopped acknowledging their presences and flicked up to the sky. A final breath left her mouth and her head lolled limp on his lap. His thumb, still stroking her cheek, felt the warmth leave her body, slowly being replaced with a dreadfully-familiar cold. The cold of the dead. 

His sister now lied dead in his lap, a smile still upon her face, no hint of regret anywhere. Esme clung to him once she processed Y/n’s passing. The way she shoved herself in front of her brother so carelessly, like she wanted it to happen. She thought of the way Y/n had been hesitant to join them or Tommy and Grace, or really any of the couples of the family, when they went places.

Before Y/n passed, when she was looking to the heavens, her mind showed her a sight. She stood before her mother, who was smiling and well in the afterlife. Y/n couldn’t think of anything else, but joining her. Her mother moved to the side, showing her more of what she could join in on. 

She knew all three of the women in front of her. Grace talked with John’s dead wife, both of them smiling at Y/n and eagerly beckoning her over to them. Her mum slowly moved her hand, welcoming Y/n to the paradise. 

So, she grabbed onto her mother’s extended hand and greeted her new company.

. . .

“Go fuck those bastards responsible!” Polly sobbed a yell at Tommy, returning to her place over Y/n’s body, brushing her hair from her face. Her lifeless body was brought to the family and chaos ensued.

Tommy grabbed handfuls of his hair and tugged while yelling until his face turned red upon the discovery of his dead sibling. Arthur threw items, flipped tables, and let the cries of agony escape him just as Tommy had. The rest of the family had pretty similar reactions, aside from Ada.

Her eyes were greeted with the sight of her sister, bloodied up and dead. Her hand darted to her mouth, tears spilled from her eyes, her legs moved to Y/n’s side before she could think of the action. Whimpers and small croaks of screams left her mouth muffled.

They knew one of them were likely to die at some point. They wouldn’t have handled that well either. But. Their sister? The kind and cheery one of the bunch. The one who hid her tough shield behind her forgiving smile? No one thought she’d be the first to leave the living.

Her depression was known, and her family helped her care for it, helped make her happy and let her know how much they loved her. They tried their hardest, and her thoughts of suicide were gifted to her in a disguise of murder. But why?

Why her?

“It should’ve been me...”

“Don’t say that John...she wanted you alive...”

“It should’ve though...” Pangs of guilt were sent straight to not just his heart, but his brothers’. His sister’s. His aunt’s. His wife’s. His cousin’s. They felt guilty for what had been done, the murder of Y/n was no one of the Peaky Blinder’s fault, but everyone still blamed themselves.

. . .

John and Esme cuddled into each other by the fire, no words being spoken, their hearts heavy and eyes watery. One of John’s children walked up to them, rubbing their puffy red eyes that matched their parents’ and tilting their head at their father.

“Are you crying cause you miss Auntie? Don’t worry, she’s just sleeping. Under those stars outside my window. She’s.. she has only fallen asleep.”

“What?”

“Auntie. She’s only fallen asleep. And when God says it’s time, he’ll wake her up.” The little boy climbed onto the sofa. “I hope she’s dreaming of me. What about you, mummy?”

Esme’s mouth had dropped in shock from the sentence. “I-I- uh yeah... I do too, my love. I think she’s dreaming of you, for sure. I- I think she’s dreaming of you, me, daddy, all of us.”

“I hope she has a good sleep. Speaking of sleep, can you tuck me in? Aunt Y/n did it a special way...I miss it when she tucked me in.” John and Esme’s hearts ached at the sight of their child, eyebrows scrunched in thought before he jumped up and his face filled with joy. “Maybe when she wakes up she can tuck me in again!”

“Of course sweetie...” Esme’s voice cracked with sadness laced through her words and smile. “Time for bed, dearest... Wanna show mummy and daddy how Auntie used to tuck you in?”

The boy beamed with happiness, nodding eagerly at the idea. “Mhm!” He grabbed his parent’s arms and pulled them into his room, telling them instructions. After he finished, they sat on his bed with him, their tears breaking free at his final sentences before he kissed them goodnight;

“Goodnight Y/n! I hope you wake up soon, we miss you! Sleep well and dream good dreams of me under those stars of yours!”

#they have only fallen asleep #tommy shelby #esme shelby #polly gray #michael gray #arthur shelby #ada shelby #thomas shelby #linda shelby #grace shelby #finn shelby #under stars #aurora #aurora aksnes #shelby family #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #by order of the peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders reader insert #john shelby x reader #john shelby x sibling reader #john shelby x sister #tommy shelby x reader #tom shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #cillian murphy x reader #joe cole x reader

[angeli-marco-writes]

∘◦ ♥ ◦∘ 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.

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