#I SPENT SEVEN YEARS WITH THAT FIC HANGING OVER MY HEAD

[wileys-russo]

Hey first off I love your fics and I was wondering if we could get a head over (tar) heels ticket x

head over (tar) heels ficlet

"ahh so you found your lady balls then less?" lois grinned wolfishly as lotte nudged the girl and sent her a disapproving look. "what? she did!" lois defended, alessia rolling her eyes as the three of them jogged around the pitch for warm ups.

"yes i found my lady balls and kissed her, thank you for that lojo." alessia sighed as lois nodded happily stating she was welcome. "anyway! so then what happened?" lotte redirected, the three of them speeding up at the coaches request.

"well i asked her on a date...tonight." alessia admitted nervously, both girls beside her whipping their heads around to stare at her in disbelief. "tonight! where? when? what?" lois spluttered out in shock.

"so you weren't even going to admit you liked her yesterday, and now you've kissed her, admitted your feelings and asked her on a date? you're working fast here less." lotte laughed as the blonde groaned.

"don't remind me."

~

"hello you! you look lovely." you beamed at alessia, standing up from the bench you'd both agreed to meet on outside your dorm building, both too aware of the lingering nosy eyes of the student body that would follow if either one of you picked the other up from their rooms.

"and you look beautiful." alessia smiled, eyes roaming you up and down taking you in properly as the two of you started to walk off campus. again wanting to avoid the rumor mill alessia had booked the two of you a table at a local restaurant in town.

the conversation flowed like normal as you sat pressed together in the back of the uber, no different than any other time the two of you would be hanging out.

though once you reached the restaurant and sat down together, the reality of the situation dawned on alessia and suddenly things weren't as they seemed.

normally the blonde was confident and sure of herself, and though she could be soft spoken at times most of the time you spent with her she was doing anything and everything she could to make you laugh or smile, two things of which were her favorite to see and hear.

but tonight there was a different energy and as you rambled away like normal alessia found herself stumbling over her words, developing a stutter that hadn't surfaced she was about seven years old, finding herself overthinking everything and anything she said and did.

you tried to ease her through it and pretend like you didn't notice, making every effort you could to try and settle her, asking simple questions and being the one to make jokes for once to try and get her to relax.

though when that didn't work and the poor girl knocked over her full coke onto the table, face flushing bright red and stammering out an apology, shooting to her feet and trying her best to mop it up with napkins.

you assured her it was fine and tried to speak up again but as the waitress arrived the footballer excused herself and rushed off to the bathroom. you watched her go with an empathetic frown, waving the waitress back and asking if you could both grab your food to go instead.

"less? can i come in?" you spoke up quietly and knocked on the bathroom, a beat of silence passing before you heard it unlock and you gently pushed the door open stepping inside.

"hey. whats wrong?" you asked with a concerned frown, alessia sighing as she splashed a little water on her neck and straightened up. "i don't know!" the taller girl groaned hiding her face in her hands which was still blushed rosy pink.

"alessia." you smiled, grabbing her hands and gently tugging them away, interlocking your fingers and squeezing.

"we've been for dinner here like ten times. maybe not as a date but still sometimes it was just us and it was fine. you need to get out of your own head, just because this is a first date doesn't mean we have to go through the whole nervous awkward small talk thing." you teased lightly as she cracked a smile.

"i grabbed our food to go. how about we just go back and eat somewhere on campus, no fancy location, no awkwardness, no tables to spill a drink on!" you grinned as the blonde pouted and mumbled to stop being mean.

leaving her behind to actually use the toilet you grabbed the bags of food and waited for her outside, the tall blonde joining you and finally appearing much more like her normal self as the two of you went for a walk.

finding a park nearby you sat down on a picnic table and began to unpack the food, the conversation flowing like normal as alessia seemed to feel much more herself now the setting was a little less formal.

your food finished and rubbish discarded the two of you were laid down atop the picnic table watching the clouds as the sun set, the warm weather meaning the sun was still up and the days were longer which was one of your favourite times of year.

"that one looks like a rabbit!" alessia pointed out as you laughed. "i don't know what sort of rabbits you have in england but they're not like american ones." you teased as her shoulder bumped into yours.

"do you think they see the same clouds in england as the ones here?" you commented with a slight frown. "well its night time there right now so.." alessia trailed off with an amused smile. "thats not what i meant and you know it!" you smacked her lightly as the girl grabbed your hand, sliding her fingers in between yours.

"very smooth russo." you teased, leaning over to kiss her cheek and looking back up to the sky above.

"oh that one looks like a football! you pointed out another cloud, glancing up in surprise as alessia now hovered above you with a grin. "what? it does, doesn't it?" you frowned in confusion as the blonde shook her head.

"you said football instead of soccer ball and i didn't even need to correct you, i'm rubbing off on you!" alessia beamed proudly as you groaned and she flopped back down beside you wiggling happily.

"don't get used to it." you shook your head withholding a smile. the cloud replaced by stars quite quickly though it wasn't completely dark the two of you hopped down and raced over to the playground.

"go on, i'll push you." alessia challenged nodding to the swings as you sat down and grabbed on tightly. "okay high enough less." you laughed as the footballer continued to step back and back. "alessia!" you shrieked as she lifted you even higher, toned arms held well above her head.

"oh my-" you yelled as she let go and pushed at your back, the swing flying wildly as you clutched on tightly and the english girls laugh echoed around the park and she pushed you somehow even higher.

"okay enough!" you warned with a laugh as she gave you one final shove and jogged around toward the front. "jump off." the striker grinned as you gave her a look of disbelief. "i'll catch you i promise, go!" alessia laughed opening her arms as you took a deep breath and launched off.

your body hurtled into hers a lot faster than she expected as to her promise she caught you, your legs wrapping around her hips but with the force in which you collided she stumbled backwards and fell with you landing on top of her.

"see! i caught you." the blonde groaned as you collapsed into her laughing, face pressed into her neck as her arms moved to hug you tightly. "i think the ground caught us actually." you teased, pulling yourself up slightly as you looked down at her.

it would seem words weren't needed as your eyes stayed locked and you started to lean down as alessia pushed herself up, your lips connecting as her hand moved to gently grip the back of your neck, deepening the kiss further.

"hey you two get off the ground and get out of there, thats for children!"

[ilyasorokinn]

mary's song (oh my my my) , quinn hughes

note, this fic is part of the "taylor's version" series, but all the pieces in that series are stand alone. a side note, i might use the whole song or just a quote for the fic. i also might not use the entire verse. just depends. sorry if that's confusing. feel free to ask questions. another note, okay i haven't touched this series in literally a year, but i will try to write it more. i'm still excited about it and want to write it! so, i'm starting out with a popular player so you all get excited lol pair, quinn hughes x reader summary, a fic based on "mary's song (oh my my my)" from taylor swift's debut taylor swift album. warnings, none :) word count, 2494 words

(gif not mine)

she said, "i was seven and you were nine" i looked at you like the stars that shine in the sky, the pretty lights and our daddies used to joke about the two of us growing up and falling in love and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes and said, "oh my, my, my"

You lived right down from the Hughes family. Your parents were good friends so you spent lots of time with their family growing up. So, growing up you, your brother, and the Hughes boys would have tons of playdates and would go to the park together.

Growing up so closely with them, little Y/N did develop a crush on her neighbor Quinn. Everyone around you, all the adults, could tell. Kids weren't exactly subtle with their feelings.

One summer night, you were all in your backyard, post-barbeque. All the adults were sitting in lawn chairs, watching the five of you play. Well, it was more like Quinn, Jack, and your older brother Y/B/N, were playing and you were sitting in the grass watching all of them while baby Luke was asleep in his mom's lap.

They were trying to play a game of hockey, but the numbers weren't even. No one wanted to be goalie, so it was just one on one on one, "This would've been easier if you'd play, Y/N." Your brother pointed out.

"Leave her alone," Quinn spoke up in your honor.

"Yeah." You butted in, glaring at your brother.

Your dad chuckled as he watched you watch Quinn's every move, "What?" Your mom asked.

"Y/N. She's always watching Quinn." Jim and Ellen looked over and saw you watching Quinn.

"Can you imagine if those two ever got together?" Jim joked, sharing a laugh with your dad.

"That'll be the day." Your dad clinked his beer with Jim. Your mom and Ellen shared a look, before rolling their eyes and shaking their heads.

take me back to the house in the backyard tree said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me you never did, you never did take me back when our world was one block wide i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried just two kids, you and i oh my, my, my, my

"Come on," Quinn called after you. He knocked on your door one day after school and told you to follow after him. So, you did. You ran as fast as your legs could take you, but you still couldn't keep up with him.

"Come on, you're so slow." Quinn groaned, slowing down for a second, "If you don't run any faster, I'm gonna beat you up." You couldn't tell if he was joking, so you stopped running.

"Y/N, what're you doing?"

"You said you were gonna beat me up." You narrowed your eyes at him.

"Cause you're moving too slow." He whined, "I wasn't actually going to beat you up. I was just joking."

"Well, it wasn't funny." You started running again alongside him before you finally made it to the treehouse in the Hughes's backyard.

You and Quinn finally made it to the tree and looked up at the treehouse then looked back to each other, "You go first." You pushed him up in front of the ladder.

"No, you." He grabbed your arm and shoved you towards the ladder.

"You." You managed to get your arm back and push him back in front of the ladder. He finally cracked and began climbing up the ladder. Once he was halfway up, you began your descent up.

Once you were both up, you sat down on the ground together, "So, why did you bring me up here?"

"Just wanted to hang out." He shrugged, "We always hang out with Jack and Y/B/N. It's never just the two of us."

"Well, what do you want to do?" You asked, posing a good question.

"Truth or dare?"

"It's not fun when it's just the two of us." You frowned.

"Then we'll just have to think of really good truth or dares," Quinn stated.

"Fine." You crossed your arms, "I dare you to..." You pursed your lips as you thought about it, "... kiss me."

"Kiss you?" Quinn repeated.

"Yeah." You nodded.

"Well..." Quinn hesitated, "Okay." He shrugged and leaned in, lips pursed. When you realize he was serious, you quickly stood up and climbed down the ladder of the treehouse as quickly as you could.

"Y/N? What the heck?" Quinn called down.

"I have to go!" You shouted, running all the way home and shutting the door loudly when you got home.

i was sixteen when suddenly i wasn't that little girl you used to see but your eyes still shined like pretty lights and our daddies used to joke about the two of us they never believed we'd really fall in love and our mamas smiled and rolled their eyes and said, "oh my, my, my"

Somewhere in between the playfights, childish dares, and first days of school, the five of you grew up. Your brother and Quinn had graduated the year previous and were getting ready for college.

Y/B/N, being the responsible older brother, was in charge of driving you to school. So, on the morning of the first day of school, you both walked out to the car.

"Hey, Y/N, Y/B/N!" Ellen hollered, "Why don't we get a picture of all five of you together?"

"Mom," Jack whined.

"Just one photo," Ellen reassured. You all got into position and smiled, "All right, see, you're all done." She turned off the camera, "All right you three, have a great day." She kissed both her kid's heads before hugging both you and your brother.

"Bye, Q." You waved.

"Bye, Y/N/N." He waved back.

"So, what're you gonna do with all your spare time now?" Ellen asked, watching as the four of you drove off.

"Probably sulk 'cause Y/N's not gonna be around." Jim joked.

"Shut up." Quinn tried to hide his laugh as he made his way back inside the house.

"Y/N and Quinn, sittin' in a tree." Jim teased, following Quinn inside the house.

-

You smiled to yourself as one of the little girls in your neighborhood chased a boy around the yard, "Proposition for you." You jumped when you heard Quinn and quickly turned around to find him joining you at the picnic table.

"All right." You nodded.

"You go on a date with me."

"Oh, yeah? And what do I get in return?"

"An awesome free dinner paid for by me." He flashed you a smile.

You pretended to ponder it and think about it, "I guess that sounds nice."

"You guess?" Quinn balked.

"I guess." You shrugged watching his reaction shift from excited to confused, "I'm kidding." You then watched him break out into a nervous laugh.

"Oh, cool." He tried to play it off as if he wasn't freaking out inside.

Your parents were, once again, sitting in lawn chairs, watching you and Quinn awkwardly flirt, "Our babies are growing up." Your mom spoke dramatically.

"All grown up." Ellen nodded.

"Never thought he had in him, I gotta admit." Both your dad's kept talking and laughing about how you and Quinn were finally getting together.

take me back to the creek beds we turned up 2 a.m. riding in your truck and all i need is you next to me take me back to the time we had our very first fight the slamming of doors instead of kissing goodnight you stayed outside till the morning light oh my, my, my, my

When Quinn would come back from school, he would always come over in the early hours of the morning and he would whisk you away to the place you had designated as your spot.

"Shooting star." You pointed up to the sky. You were both laying on the hood of his car, looking up at the sky. You looked over at him, only to find that he wasn't looking up at the sky but at you, "Why aren't you looking at the sky."

"Cause you're my whole world." Your heart soured and turned your head to the side so he wouldn't see the shy smile making its way onto your face.

"You sure know how to make a girl feel special, Quinn Hughes." You leaned into him. He only hummed, pressing a kiss to your head as you continued to look up at the sky.

-

You had little spats before, tiny disagreements here and there, but your first fight, it was something you never wanted to experience again.

"Are you serious right now?" You spat.

"I just don't get why you're making such a big thing out of this." Quinn shrugged.

"Quinn, this is big. I was gonna introduce you to all my friends and you just didn't show up."

"I'm sorry, I just lost track of time." He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants.

"Quinn..."

"What do you want me to say?"

"Anything!" You shouted, "I want you to give me a better explanation than you just forgot."

"It's the truth!" He raised his voice.

You scoffed, "I'm done." You raised your hands in surrender.

"What do you mean "you're done"?" Quinn asked.

"I mean I'm tired. We're going in circles and getting nowhere, so I'm gonna go home." You rubbed your eyes and headed for the door, "We can talk in the morning."

He stared at you, silent as he tried to figure out what he was gonna say next, but when no words came out, you walked out the door.

The next morning, you woke up and didn't want to move," Good morning." Your mother knocked before entering.

You groaned, turning away from her and trying to go back to sleep, "Before you fall back asleep, just thought you'd want to know there's someone waiting for you on the porch."

You quirked a brow before pushing the covers off and making your way out to the porch of your house where Quinn was laying, asleep, a couple blankets thrown across him.

You stared at him frozen, "He was here all night."

"How do you know?"

"Heard someone on the porch last night, came out this morning, and saw him." Your mom explained before closing the door and giving you both some privacy.

You sat down on the step next to him and just watched him for a second before gently waking him up, "Q." You whispered, shaking him gently.

He moved, rubbing his eyes, before opening them and locking eyes with you, "Hey." He yawned.

"Hi." You smiled, "Heard you were here all night."

"Yeah." He stretched a little before sitting up and giving you all his attention, "I didn't really like the way things ended last night."

"Me either." You sighed.

"I'm really sorry, Y/N. I really did lose track of time, and by the time i realized what time it was, the dinner was over, and I know it's a sucky excuse, but it's the truth."

"I might've been a little harsh. There's another get-together in like a week..."

"I'll be there." He cut you off with a firm nod of his head.

"I know you will." You smiled, reaching over and squeezing his hand.

a few years had gone and come around we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

After you had graduated from college, you moved up to Vancouver with Quinn and got a job at a hospital. You both got into a nice comfortable routine.

During the break, you went home to visit family and celebrate the holidays. Before you could even breathe, you were both wrapped in a million hugs by both sets of parents.

"It's nice to see you too, Mom." You chuckled, hugging her.

"How's work? Tell me all about it." You were whisked off to the kitchen table where Ellen quickly followed and you were soon immersed in a deep conversation about all the gossip you had missed while you were gone.

After dinner, everyone retreated to their own spaces so you and Quinn headed out to the treehouse that was somehow still standing in the Hughes' backyard.

"I can't believe this is still standing." You laughed as you climbed to the top.

You laid back and looked up at the stars, "We used to come up here all the time, remember?"

"How could I forget? We'd come up here and you'd tell me all those crazy facts about the solar system."

"I knew you probably didn't understand anything I was saying, but you being there, it was sweet." You leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"Listen, I have a proposition." You smiled.

"All right." You nodded.

"Marry me." He stated.

Your eyes widened and your mouth opened in shock, "Are you serious?"

"So serious." He nodded, pulling out a ring box from his pocket and popping it open.

"Quinn Hughes..." You couldn't find the words you were so speechless.

"What do you say? You and me forever?"

"God, of course. Is that even a question?" You tackled him in a hug, "You're crazy." You laughed, letting him slip the ring on your finger.

take me back to the time when we walked down the aisle our whole town came and our mamas cried you said, "i do", and i did too

Quinn felt like he was going to explode with nerves, "Dude, calm down." He looked out into the crowd and literally everyone you knew was there. Every grandparent, aunt, uncle, former coaches, current coaches, teammates, former teammates, everyone.

"This is worse than my first game." He took a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves.

"You're gonna be fine." Jack reassured, flattening his tie, "Just breathe." He took another deep breath, "There you go."

"All right." He shook off his nerves the best he could and stood straight at the front. The music started and the doors opened. The bridesmaids and groomsmen walked in, then everyone stood.

He felt his breathing hitch as he saw you walk in. You smiled at him and every nerve in his body, he felt it disappear instantly. You met him at the altar, and kissed your dad on the cheek, watched him shake Quinn's hand, then handed your bouquet off to your maid of honor.

The reception felt like it went by too quickly, "Do you Quinn Hughes take Y/N Y/L/N to be your wife?"

"I do." Quinn nodded.

"And do you, Y/N Y/L/N, take Quinn Hughes to be your husband?" You could hear both your mothers' crying and being comforted by your fathers.

"I do." You nodded.

"Then by the power vested in me, you may now kiss." You couldn't help the smile on your face when you both leaned in for the first kiss. You linked hands as you made your way back down the aisle, big smiles on both of your faces.

-

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[babydollmarauders]

AUGUST PT 2 — QUINN HUGHES

quinn hughes x fem!reader

THIS IS A VERY LATE PART 2 TO THIS FIC

summary: in which y/n has been in love with Quinn for years and now she deals with the emotional consequences of a summer situationship.

specific lyrics: “you weren't mine to lose.” and “i can see us lost in the memory, august slipped away into a moment in time. 'cause it was never mine. and i can see us twisted in bedsheets, august sipped away like a bottle of wine. 'cause you were never mine.”

warnings: underage drinking

notes: this is almost five months late…. better late than never, right? ummm….. i hope y’all enjoy 🫣

**SEPTEMBER 21ST 2018**

the last week of this summer passed by in a blur. my final seven days being spent with Jack and his friends, and my nights being taken by his brother. i never did confess my feelings to Quinn, and as a result, i now sit back in my bedroom at home, watching snapchat stories of him at a party. my focus zeroes in solely on the girl clinging to his arm in the most recent picture. he wears a smile on his face and in the hand not occupied by the girl, he holds a generic red solo cup.

i have no right to feel jealous. to be so upset. he was never actually mine, no matter how much i wanted him to be. we were never exclusive. our rendezvous last month were just good times for him, and i knew that. so why did it still hurt? why did it still feel like my heart was broken?

i suppose i could chalk it up to the fact that he never clarified anything. he never outright admitted that our escapades meant nothing to him, but he also never said they meant anything either. however, they meant everything to me. they gave me hope that maybe he felt the same feeling that i’ve harbored for four years. but then he left with a simple ‘goodbye’.

i foolishly hoped that he would call me when he got back to school, that maybe he was just too nervous to say anything to my face, but now it’s 3 weeks later and the only Hughes’ i’ve heard from are his brothers. Jack texting me random updates of his life every day, and Luke and i speaking on the phone when i wished him a happy birthday earlier this month.

and i can’t make the excuse of ‘he’s busy.’ because i see him on social media, partying after wins and hanging out with friends between classes. he surely has enough free time to call me or even send a simple text. but, i suppose he doesn’t care to contact me because it never meant anything to him; and i guess he assumed it wasn’t anything to me either.

**NOVEMBER 16TH, 2018**

a glass of wine secured in my hand, i’m sat on the couch, scrolling through social media. my parents went out for a date night, leaving me with a house to myself for the night, and i’ve taken advantage by cracking open a bottle of wine and actually leaving my room. it wasn’t much, but i was relaxed. my thumb swipes over my phone screen, scrolling down my instagram timeline, and i stop at a picture of Quinn.

His arm is around a blonde girl’s shoulders as she hugs his waist, a small smile gracing his lips while she wears a large, toothy grin. it’s been months since i’ve last spoken with him, yet it doesn’t make it sting any less to see him with another girl. tears well in my eyes at the remembrance of his easy dismissal of me. the way that he left at the end of the summer with nothing more than a ‘bye.’

maybe it’s the adrenaline pumping through my veins, maybe the fact that i’m over feeling worthless over a guy, or maybe it’s the nearly entire bottle of wine that’s flushing through me right now; but i’ve finally had enough. swiping out of instagram, i scroll through my contacts until i find the one i’m searching for, my thumb hovering close over the call button but too hesitant to actually press it.

“this is stupid.” i mutter to myself, hanging my head. it’s in that moment that my dog decides to come over, sniffing me and nudging at the back of my phone, resulting in the tapping of the button. “shit!”

it’s too late now, the damage is done. he’ll get notified that i called him, regardless of if i were to hang up right now anyways, so i bring the phone up to my ear, listening to it ring. once. twice. a third time, before it connects.

“y/n? what’s up?” his voice is raspy and i wonder if i woke him. it’s only ten at night, but if i remember correctly, he has a game tomorrow, so it doesn’t surprise me that he would be asleep this early. i take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself for the words that need to be said.

“you’re a shitty person, you know that?” i surprise even myself with the anger that comes through with my words. my honest feelings being spoken.

“i’m sorry?” he sounds confused, but it’s not an actual apology, it’s more of an ‘excuse me?’ if anything.

“you heard me. you’re an asshole.” i tell him, rising to my feet to pace around my living room, my dog following me like a shadow. “i wish i had never met you.”

“okay, ouch, hold on, what did i do?” he questions. i hear shuffling in the background and i assume he’s sitting up in his bed now. “we haven’t even spoken in like, what? two and a half months?”

“exactly! that’s the problem!” i’m acutely aware that i’m raising my voice at this point, but i just don’t understand how he doesn’t see the issue with this.

“you’re mad at me because i haven’t talked to you lately? i still don’t understand.” i halt my pacing at his words, my dog bumping into the backs of my legs at my abrupt stop.

“i’m mad because you strung me along this past august. i’m mad because you left me with nothing but a simple ‘bye’. i’m mad because i’ve liked you for the past four years and then you didn’t even have the decency to explain to me whatever it was that we were doing this summer!” i huff. “i would’ve understood if you just told me it meant nothing to you. that you just wanted some action or whatever. but instead you didn’t tell me shit! you let me believe that maybe you liked me back. that maybe we could have been something. and then you just left me with radio silence and i have to see you on social media with girls hanging off of you and wonder if i just wasn’t good enough. that’s why i’m mad.”

Quinn is silent for a few moments, maybe holding out to see if i’m done, maybe gathering his thoughts, but it’s eerily quiet. but then as quickly as the silence started, it ends.

“y/n.” he sighs my name, sounding exhausted. “if i knew how you felt, i would’ve tried to define what we were doing. i wasn’t sure what was happening, just that i liked spending time with you and i liked being close to you.”

“being close to me? or fucking me?” i ask him.

“both, y/n/n. is that what you wanna hear?” he’s getting frustrated, i can hear it. “yes. i liked fucking you. and i liked being with you. just us two. i’m sorry that i didn’t call you, i thought that’s how you wanted it. but, i see now that i should’ve talked to you about it instead of assuming. i didn’t realize that what we were doing meant so much to you. but you could’ve ended it at any point.”

“why would you think i would do that? that i would end it? i’m literally telling you right now that i wanted more.” i heave out a breath, dropping back onto the couch and pulling my legs up to my chest. “Quinn, i just wanted you to call me. to say something, i don’t know! say you had fun this summer, say you can’t wait to see me next summer, say you like me, say you hate me, anything. just don’t go silent on me and make me think i’m insane for thinking you like me as much as i like you.”

“i’m so sorry, y/n.” he mutters, i quiet and slow. “i should’ve talked to you. i should’ve told you that i felt the same. i should’ve thought about how you were feeling and not just me. but now that i know, i’d really like to try.”

“you would?” i inquire, keeping my antsy fingers busy by picking at a stray string on my hoodie. “how?”

“maybe… maybe you could come to one of my games? and we could go out to eat afterwards?” he sounds unsure, like maybe he’s afraid i’ll say no.

“like a date?” i ask meekly.

“yeah,” Quinn chuckles and my heart picks up at the sound. i’ve always loved his laugh. “exactly like a date.”

i’m quiet, my bottom lip captured between my teeth, holding back a squeal.

“what do you think?” he pipes up again, once again seeming nervous.

“i think, i’d really like that.” i confess before burying my face in a throw pillow beside me, muffling my excited scream.

when i raise the phone back to my ear, Quinn is laughing; apparently the pillow didn’t cover as much of noise as i thought it would.

“next friday, i have a game against Wisconsin, does that work?”

“sounds perfect.” i grin, nodding my head, even though he can’t see me.

“okay, i’ll see you then?”

“i’ll see you then.” i confirm.

“goodnight, y/n/n. i can’t wait to see you.” he tells me and i repeat a ‘goodnight’ before we hang up.

i look down at my dog, who stares at me with his head tilted.

“Ollie, you are a matchmaker.” i coo, scratching behind his ears. his mouth drops open, his tongue falling out in content as i dote on him.

**November 23rd, 2018**

today is the day.

i spent all morning getting ready; my hair is done, my makeup perfected, and i tried on about six different outfits before my mother told me to stop worrying and just go.

and after a three and a half hour drive, in which i had to pull over twice to shake myself out and get my jitters out; i’ve pulled into Yost Ice Arena with 10 minutes to spare before the game starts.

Quinn and i have texted non-stop since we planned tonight, and he assured me last night on the phone, that there’ll be a ticket waiting for me at the front.

pulling the keys from the ignition, i grab my purse and do a once-over of my face in the rearview mirror before exiting the vehicle. stretching my legs, i make my way inside the arena, stopping to get my ticket before i head in towards the seating.

i’m sat towards the middle, a perfect view of the ice. my legs shake in anxiety as the crowd roars, the players filing on the ice and getting faceoff position.

it’s amazing how much i’ve learned about hockey in the past four years of knowing the Hughes’.

it’s a rather uneventful first period, neither team scoring. the second isn’t much better, Wisconsin scoring once mere minutes into the period, but that’s the only goal. Michigan ties it up in the third, with Quinn landing an assist on the goal, and i’m shaking in nervousness as i hope for a second Michigan goal. but it never comes.

moving onto overtime, neither team scores, resulting in a tie. but the teams still go on, starting a second overtime of three-on-three to determine who gets the extra point. it’s not even a minute into the second overtime when Quinn passes the puck to Josh Norris, who i’ve met once or twice at the lake house, and Josh lands the puck in the back of the net.

the crowd goes wild, me included, jumping up to our feet and cheering as the guys celebrate.

both teams file off of the ice relatively quick, and in result, the crowd begins to fan out. fans leaving the arena. but i stay back.

Quinn told me to meet him out front of the arena in half an hour, so i opt to lounge here for an extra few to kill time, scrolling through instagram and reading Jack’s texts; asking why i’m in Ann Arbor and if i plan to come see him before i leave. stupid Life360.

i call him rather than text, making my way out of the arena as he picks up.

“what are you doing in Ann Arbor?” he cuts straight to the point, not bothering with any catch up.

“well hello to you too.” i chuckle, rolling my eyes.

“yeah, yeah, hi. what are doing in Ann Arbor?” he repeats.

“i came to see Quinn’s game. i promise, i’ll come and see you tomorrow morning before i drive back home.” i assure him. “wait, are you even gonna be back from Illinois in the morning?”

“yeah, we’re on the bus back now.” he assures me.

“okay, good. i saw online that you got an assist! congrats bub!”

“thanks. we still lost though.” he tells me, his voice full of dejection.

“you’ll get ‘em next time!” i reassure, pacing outside Yost, pulling my jacket tighter to my chest to keep myself warm in the cool Michigan air.

“yeah.” he breaths. “so why are you at Quinn’s game?”

his tone is teasing, as though he doesn’t actually believe i’m here for Quinn.

“we’re going on a date.” i admit, preparing myself for his response.

“oooh! you’re finally getting out of the friendzone?!” he exclaims, and i can hear Trevor’s voice chime in from beside him, telling him to quiet down. which i find ironic, considering Trevor is ever the loud mouth.

“what?! you knew i liked him?!” i question, making him chuckle.

“uh, yeah. it was so obvious.” he replies through laughter. “i also know you were hooking up with him this summer. you weren’t very subtle.”

my jaw drops in astonishment.

“we were so subtle!” i shout, and i can hear Trevor piping up again on the other side of the phone.

“who? y/n and Quinn? oh yeah, everyone knew.”

“shut up, Zegras!” i yell, and i can hear both boys bark out in laughter.

“why didn’t you say anything?” i ask.

“who was i to say something, when you were trying so hard to keep it on the down low?” he teases.

i look up from my pacing feet when i hear footsteps, locking eyes with Quinn, who smiles at the sight of me, nearly taking my breath away.

“i gotta go.” i breath out, and Jack lets out an immature ‘oooooooh’

“have fun with my brother!” he calls out and i groan.

“shut up. i’ll see you tomorrow.” i sing, before hanging up.

“my brother?” Quinn questions, as if he already knows the answer.

“yeah.” i nod. “apparently, i found out, we weren’t as subtle as we thought, in August.”

“we were so subtle!” he exclaims, making me giggle.

“that’s what i said!” i tell him. his hand reaches out towards mine, and i anxiously intertwine mine with his. “so, where are we going?”

“there’s a really cute diner, about a fifteen minute walk from here.” he explains, as we begin walking. “i figured we could go there.”

“sounds perfect.” i breath out. his eyes are glued to the cement, watching his feet, but i watch him. “congrats on the assists! i know a tie wasn’t really the outcome you guys were hoping for, but it was a riveting game.”

he laughs, his head dropping back, and a bright smile overtakes my lips at the melodious sound dropping from his.

“babe, there were only two goals in a full hour of game play.” he reminds me.

“babe?” i question, and his hand tightens around mine for a second.

“yeah.” he shrugs, attempting to seem nonchalant, but i can tell by his face, when he turns to me, that he’s nervous. “you’re my girl now.”

“i’m your girl?” i smirk. “i like the sound of that.”

“me too.” he brings us to a halt, turning his body to mine.

his hand rises to cup my cheek, his face lowering to mine until our breaths mingle together. my eyes flutter shut, slowly, and the next thing i know, his lips are crashing against mine in a deep kiss.

and i know, in this moment, i’ll do anything to keep him. because now, he’s mine to lose.

[ofstoriesandstardust]

miss americana & the heartbreak prince (b.r.b.)

note: if this fic looks familiar to you... well, that's because it's been here before. and the response was less than kind but i've cleaned a house a bit since then so it's coming back. remember that this fic is told with intertwining timelines and if you have something mean to say you'll get blocked. enjoy the read (or re-read!) :)

summary: The year Bradley left and the year he returned.

same mistakes

warnings: swearing, alcohol mentions, my general same mistakes warnings

word count: 4.9k

“It’s been a long time coming/it’s me and you”

You slip out into the warm September air from Sarah’s car. 

“Bye! Have a good-” 

The door shuts as you tug your bag higher on to your shoulder. You take a deep breath, beginning the walk down the stairs to the courtyard. 

Almost immediately, the whispers begin. 

“Did you hear-” 

“Bradshaw won’t speak to her anymore-” 

“Feel kind of bad-”

“How could she-”

“I hear her Dad put her into therapy-”

“Heard she kinda lost it-”

“Bradshaw is better off-”

You squeeze your eyes shut, willing to block the words out. 

They didn’t know a single thing about you nor your family. They just knew what Bradley had reveled in telling them, with no care to the fact that you had to come back to this place. 

You feel someone watching you, causing your eyes to fly open. Across the hall is Sienna and Ben, Matt and Madison, Andrew joining them from around the corner. And there, at the head of the group, is Paige. 

Just a year younger than her older brother Lucas, Paige was someone who had spent so much time in your house. Where Bradley went, Lucas followed, and where Lucas went, so did Paige. 

While Lucas graduated the year before with Bradley, you and Paige were in the same class together, had been since their family, also Navy, relocated to the Miramar base in the 4th grade. 

Paige, who’d sworn she'd be caught dead before hanging out with the likes of Sienna and Ben, after you’d caught Ben cheating on you with the girl who was supposed to be your best friend just less than six months prior. 

The bell ringing, signaling the need to head for your homeroom, does nothing to alleviate the weight of the year that you know is in front of you. 

-

Bradley squeezes your hand as you walk up the steps of the house (read: mansion) April had rented for her birthday. 

“You excited?” 

You shrug, stepping closer to Bradley as an ocean breeze blows through. 

“Are you?” 

He nods. “It’ll be fucking amazing to see everyone. It’s been a few years since the whole group has been together. I mean I’ve seen Lucas and Paige any time we’re all in town, and Morgan has finally re-located back here, but I haven’t seen Andrew in like six or seven years.” 

You swallow, feeling your nerves grow as you walk up the stone steps. 

It felt like you were walking towards the death sentence of your relationship, uncertain about what (or rather, who) you would face on the other side of that heavy oak door. 

Bradley rings the doorbell as he says, “Actually, Andrew texted me to ask if I was bringing you.” 

Your stomach drops as you hear movement on the other side of the door. “Why?”

He shrugs. “The dude’s always been nosy. I think-” 

You never know what Bradley is going to say as the front door opens, revealing a grinning April. 

“Bradshaw!” She shouts, pulling him into a hug. “I’m so glad you could make it.” 

“Happy to be here.” He says, words muffled into the girl’s shoulder. She lets him go, her smile equally as blinding when she sees you. 

“You actually brought your girlfriend. Was starting to think you were hiding mini Mitchell away from us.” 

She pulls you into a hug of her own, but it’s not fast enough, you catching Jameson Hall over her shoulder as he pokes his head around the wall to see who’s arrived. 

You don’t miss the way his eyes widen and the way he chokes on his drink. 

-

“Maybe you should join the cross-country team, I know tryouts are this Tuesday.” Ice says nonchalantly over dinner. 

You raise an eyebrow. “Why?” 

He shrugs. “It’ll be good for you to get out of the house, focusing on other… things.” 

He says things in such a way that you know really means Bradley but no one was really willing to discuss his absence, not since that last night at Ice and Sarah’s. 

“Plus, didn’t you get into running after seeing that grief counselor?” 

Your Dad had put you and Bradley both into grief counseling when Carole passed in the spring, but you’d only gone for three sessions before seeing the old dude with an office that smelled like fish and a receding hairline had gotten to be too irritating as he tried to tell you how you were supposed to feel. 

The only thing that had come out of the sessions was the suggestion of picking up an activity that allowed you to decompress and focus on other things. And you leaned into running, something that Slider teased you for doing willingly. 

They didn’t need to know that every time you went a run, you went running to see if this would be the time you’d run so far you never came back. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

-

“Thanks for inviting us, April.” Bradley says, the girl shutting the door behind you as the two of you step into the foyer. 

“Of course, I’m happy you guys came. You guys are earlier than the rest, you know how it is. Angelina and Jameson are in the living room-” She pauses as you both see the ill-hidden twitch of Bradley's lips. She holds up a hand, cutting off whatever he’s going to say. “Save it, Bradshaw. I already know.” 

He shrugs. “Good.” 

“Anyways, they’re in the living room and Alex is in the kitchen. Morgan and Paige are out by the pool, and Lucas and Andrew are on their way. I invited Ben and Sienna as well-”

Now, it’s your turn to raise any eyebrow. “April, that’s not funny.” 

She gives you a weird look. “I wasn’t kidding, I-” 

You sigh, letting Bradley’s hand fall. “I need alcohol if I’m gonna deal with the two of them.” 

“Oh, c’mon, it was like two decades ago-” 

“April.” Bradley says sternly as you turn, walking through the door next to you, avoiding the living room. 

It takes you a few minutes to find the kitchen in the house, Alex perking up when you do. 

“Hey mini Mitchell-”

“Why the hell did April invite Ben and Sienna?” 

The question is rhetorical as you wrench the fridge door open, but Alex sighs. “Because my little sister has always cared more about being liked than being a decent friend. Hey, I hear you and Bradshaw are finally together. Congrats, that’s a long time coming.” 

“Shut up Alex.” You mumble, popping the can open. 

-

Your skin is sticky with sweat, but even that can’t stop the little skip in your step as you fish through your bag for your car keys. 

You weren’t sure why you’d ended up trying out for the cross-country team like Ice had suggested, but it had felt so good to hear that you’d made the team. 

Sure, they kind of accepted everyone who could run a decent mile pace but you aren’t sure that really mattered to you.

You finally had something that was yours. 

Someone calls your name and you turn, catching sight of Morgan, the captain of the cross-country team for the last three years. 

She offers you a beaming smile, tossing her bag into the back of the truck. “Congrats on making the team.” 

You run her smile, feeling your cheeks go a little warm. “Thanks.” 

She nods. “I’m glad you tried out. We don’t get a lot of upper-classmen trying out and I bet it can be kind of intimidating trying out for the team as a senior.” 

You shrug. “Well, my godfather kind of suggested it. He thinks I need an activity, so…” 

Her eyes are filled with mirth as she lets out a little laugh. “Makes sense. Say, uh, the other seniors and I are going to get ice cream. Would you want to join us?” 

You begin to rock back and forth on your heels. “I don’t know…” You trail off, unsure if the invitation was genuine or a nicety. 

Morgan was a leader as much as she was kind, why she had earned the role of Captain as a sophomore. She’d never let anyone feel unwelcome or excluded. 

She shrugs. “It’s up to you, but we’d love to have you. If not, you should at least join us at the team barbeque at my house this weekend.” 

You swallow. Dad was all about you making new friends and Sarah was always encouraging you to give people a shot so- what did you have to lose? 

“Yeah, why not? My homework can wait a few more hours.” 

-

You can hear people filling up the house as you stand in the kitchen, avoiding leaving and seeing people you’d rather not.

“Hey.” Alex whispers, glancing back out towards the source of the sound. “Now, you didn’t hear this from me, but Jameson filed for divorce last weekend. They haven’t told anyone yet.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Wait, why?” 

Alex drops his voice even lower. “Apparently, Angelina slept with one of the Chippendales dancers on a trip to Vegas a few months ago. Jameson just found out.” Your eyes widen at the information and Alex nods. “Yeah, sometimes how we get them is how we lose them. C’mon, let’s go join the group.” 

You follow Alex, despite the fact that you’re still reeling. “How am I supposed to pretend to be normal?” 

He shrugs. “Just play along.” 

The two of you don’t get very far before you’re intercepted by someone who looks oddly familiar to you, Bradley at her shoulder.

You blink. 

-

“Senior night is tonight?” Your Dad asks as you step off the last step. You wince, turning to face him, the letterman jacket you’d be instructed to wear suddenly feeling too heavy. 

“Yeah.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me? This is so exciting-” 

“I didn’t think you’d have time to go.” 

He deflates at the flat tone in your voice, the paper crinkling in his fingers. “Well, I’d- I’d like to go if you want me there.” 

“If you want.” 

“Are- are you leaving right now?” 

You nod, feeling the keys grow sweaty in your hand as you stare at your Dad, who seems to be growing smaller. 

“Yeah. The meet is at 4, senior celebration at 6.” 

“Well, I- uh, why don’t I meet you down at the school?” 

“Sure Dad.” 

-

“Hey!” The girl says brightly.

“Hi?” 

A soft smile plays on her face. “You don’t remember me, do you?” 

Bradley sighs, taking your hand. He intertwines your fingers, the rough calluses of his palm comforting you as he does. “You remember Janie, yeah?” 

Alex lets out a laugh and an “Oh shit.” from his place next to you, lifting his hand to try and hide it. 

“Have you ever thought about minding your own business Alex?” Janie asks, a smile still on her face. 

“Have you ever known me to?” He shoots back. “But, alas,” he sighs, “I have enough respect for these two to start now.” 

Alex disappears into the crowd, as Bradley’s grip on your hand tightens. 

“I was just telling Bradley how happy it made me to hear that the two of you were finally together.” 

Janie and Bradley had started dating just weeks before Carole had shared her diagnosis with the two of you. She’d tried to see him through it, coming to the hospital and cooking and getting his missing homework assignments, but after months of things getting worse with no end in sight, she’d broken up with him. 

In hindsight, Bradley hadn’t even been all that sad, saying it was a mutual decision, that he needed to focus on his Mom before he could focus on a girlfriend. 

“I always kind of hoped, you know, that after Brad and I broke up, that the two of you would figure things out. I always knew you liked him.” 

You swallow. “Janie-” 

“No, no, it’s okay!” She exclaims, waving a hand. “Really. Even then, I knew, and honestly, I was okay with it. The two of you were meant for each other. It wouldn’t have been right if it had been me and Bradley who’d ended up together. It was always meant to be the two of you. ‘Bout broke my heart when I heard the two of you weren’t speaking to each other.” 

“Thank you, Janie.” You tell her honestly. “That’s- that’s incredibly kind of you to say.” 

“Well, I mean every word of it.” 

“Yo, Bradshaw!” Someone shouts and all three of you turn to the sound of voices entering the crowded living room. 

Bradley’s face lights up, his hand leaving yours as he goes to hug the man. “Andrew!” 

“God, you’d think they were dating.” You mutter into your drink, earning a chuckle from Janie. 

-

You and your Dad walk in silence out to your separate vehicles. Any conversation he’d tried to start after the meet had been ignored, you desperate just to get home after seeing who’d be in the crowd tonight.

Why couldn’t they all just fucking leave you alone? You hadn’t done anything, not to them, not to Bradley. They didn’t even like cross-country-

“Hey.” Morgan calls, followed by the sound of a car door opening. “Mitchell.” 

You swallow as you turn, gripping your track bag. 

“Hi Morgan.” 

She watches you with guarded eyes, leaning up against the side of her truck. “You know, when you tried out for the team, I wasn’t sure what to expect. You know, Bradshaw didn’t have a whole lot of nice things to say about you, so I’m pleasantly surprised by how you’ve done this season.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you take a step closer. “You know Bradley? I didn’t know that.” 

She nods. “Friends since freshman year.” 

Horror dawns on you as your stomach drops. “And you ran to him the minute I joined the team. Everything that I’ve told you this season, everything I’ve confided in you this season as my friend, you turned around and told him?” 

As Morgan more or less confirms your words, it feels like the bottom is falling out on your life. You swallow down the nausea rising in your throat, the burning feeling making it all worse. 

“Why would you do that? Why would you do that to me?” 

“Oh, mini Mitchell.” Andrew sighs, from behind you. “Always with that victim complex of yours.” 

-

“So is it true?” Andrew says with a grin as he pulls away, leaving his hands on Bradley’s shoulders. 

“Is what true?” 

“You and mini Mitchell, man! Did the two of you finally make it happen?” 

Bradley chuckles as he nods. “Yeah, yeah, she came with me tonight.” He takes a few steps back, nodding to you as he does. Andrew’s face lights up, hand outstretched as he does. 

“Mini Mitchell! How’ve you been?” Your eyes flicker down to his hand and back up to his face. 

“You really expect me to shake your hand, Andrew? Really, after everything?” 

His face falls, confusion taking over. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, I remember the last thing you had to say to me not being very kind.” 

“Damn, it’s been like twenty years, can you not let that shit go? You hold a grudge as bad as Bradshaw. Then again, he’s fucking you, so I can kinda see why he let that go.” 

Your eyes narrow as they shoot over to Jameson. 

Why in the world was he choosing to get involved?

“Jameson, isn’t your wife cheating on you?” You ask, tilting your head. He falls silent, shrinking back into the couch. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You play stupid games, you win stupid prizes.” 

-

You turn, spotting Andrew leaned up against his car. His trunk is open, where Ben and Sienna are sat, Paige next to them. Lucas is leaned up against the opposite side of the car. 

You shake your head, tears pricking at your eyes. “I’m being ambushed in the parking lot of my own senior night.” You say miserably, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“Bradley has had one hell of a lot to say about you.” Lucas comments, folding his arms. 

“You guys used to be my friends.” 

“Kind of hard to be friends with someone as awful as you.” Paige responds. You can do nothing but look at them, tears already trickling down your face. 

This felt like betrayal in the worst way.

And it was all Bradley’s fault. 

“Look, the bottom line here, mini Mitchell, is that you’re just a bitch. You’ve done the worst things you could do to someone and you’ve never once taken accountability or responsibility for what you’ve done to him. You’ve never once apologized and you just expect us to let that all go?” Andrew heaves a dramatic sigh, pushing himself off his car. “Then again, everyone has always liked him more than we liked you. You’re like a leech we can’t get rid of. Life-sucking.” 

Your feet move before you give them permission, turning as your Dad calls out. Your tears are burning, same as your chest, as you slam your car door shut, throwing your bag into the back with little care as a sob bubbles out. 

-

“Whoa, the tension is high in here.” Ben jokes. 

Your throat grows tight at the sandy-haired boy, the shiny ring on Sienna’s finger. Bradley steps back, pressing a hand to your shoulder. 

April huffs. “This is what I get for having friends who can hold a grudge like nobody’s business.” 

Sienna laughs lightly, moving to give the girl a hug. The tightness in your throat blossoms into your chest as Sienna’s vision pivots to you. 

She says your name softly, offering you a smile. “Would it be wrong to give you a hug?” 

“Twenty years no apology from you and you want a hug.” 

Your voice crackles somewhere along the way as you cross your arms, hoping to protect yourself from her. 

“Don’t tell me you're still mad about that.” Ben says. 

“How could I not be? My best friend fucked my boyfriend while one of the people who raised me was lying in a hospital bed dying of cancer.” 

“Well, if you aren’t gonna put out sweetheart, you shouldn’t be surprised I found it somewhere else.” 

Your body fully recoils at Ben’s words, disgust ripping through you. 

“Fuck you. You have no idea what I’ve been through, how badly what you did fucked me up. I did not deserve that.” You say emphatically, tears tracking down your face. You wipe at them to little avail, before straightening up. “Fuck this, I’m a fucking one percent Navy pilot, I don’t deserve this-” 

“I mean, don’t you?” 

It all goes silent in the room as everyone looks at Paige. 

“I mean, it’s not exactly like the Navy’s fond of you. There’s a reason why your old team hated you so.” She says, a coy smile playing on her lips. “There’s a reason why that all played out the way it did. You’re no victim in all this, sweetheart.” 

“Paige, shut up.” Bradley’s words are sharp. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. You know nothing.” 

She smirks. “I’d bargain I know a hell of a lot more than you do. And I’m sure that we’ll be able to talk about all of that, when you realize what the rest of us do that this won’t last-” 

“Okay, wait, that’s enough-” April intervenes, but it’s too late, you already shouldering past the people in the house. 

You’re trying to gulp for air when you finally make it outside, fighting off the sobs. 

Bradley’s only a few steps behind you, offering hurried apologies. You shake your head, desperately swallowing around the lump in your throat. 

“Please just take me home Bradley.” 

-

You’re unable to stop the flow of tears as you dial the number scrawled out in Ice’s handwriting on the scrap piece of paper. 

Ice had tracked down a number for “emergency purposes” though you aren't sure how. Still, now though, it didn’t matter as you sink to the floor of Ice’s study, unable to take it anymore. 

You hear the line come alive and a muffled, groggy “Hello?”, a voice you never thought you’d hear again. 

“Bradley.” You whimper. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.” 

You hiccup as your sobs catch up to you and you think you can hear him let out a breath from the other side. 

“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”

The line goes dead.

-

“Why are you people always in my house?” 

Fanboy turns, grinning at you as he clutches the spatula. Bob is next to him, stirring something on the stove. Your eyes flash over to Javy, who’s sitting at the kitchen table. 

“You know when I gave you a key, this is not what I intended.” 

“We’re making you breakfast, at least try to be grateful.”

You roll your eyes, giving him a look before joining him at the kitchen table. 

“So how was the party last night?” Bob asks, wiping his hands on a dish towel.

You make a displeased sound in your throat, shaking your head. “Awful.”

“What happened?” 

“Just… stupid shit. A bunch of kids from my high school were there, including these two Navy brats I grew up with and one of them said something kind of fucked.” 

“What’d they say?” Bob asks curiously. 

“Just something to the extent that I deserved what I got from my old team.” 

Bob shakes his head while Fanboy pulls a face. 

“Where do you keep finding these people?” Javy asks incredulously. 

“They’re Bradley’s friends.” You say with a shrug, watching Bob and Fanboy turning back to the stove. 

You realize belatedly they’re making eggs benedict, a favorite of yours. 

“What did they say?” Javy asks, his voice a little lower. 

You shake your head, signaling to him that you don’t want to talk about it. You chew your lip for a few minutes before you lower your voice, watching Bob and Fanboy carefully. 

“I did some digging last night on the girl who said that, where she’d been stationed where she might have heard about that.” Out of the corner of your eye, you can see Javy nod, showing you that he’s listening. “Her brother has always worked as an engineer, followed in their Dad’s footsteps, but she went a different route and worked in communications.” You swallow, looking at Javy. “She was there, on that aircraft carrier when we went down. She knew what they did.” You all but whisper as the pieces fall into place on his face. “It’s all still following me.”

-

The dinky little cell he’d gotten when moved out to UVA buzzed against his cheek. He blinks a few times, barely lifting his head up from the pillow to glance at the screen. 

He didn’t recognize the number, but he knew the 619 area code meant it was a San Diego number. 

He felt a tug in his gut against his better judgment and answered the phone. 

“Hello?”

“Bradley.” She whimpers. “I want you to come home. Please come home. I don’t want to fight any more. No one is gonna win here. Please, please, please God, please just come home.” 

Please don’t cry, he thinks. Please don’t cry, because if you cry, I’ll cry-

She hiccups from the other line and his chest begins to ache. 

He lets out a breath, mind whirring as he searches for something to say to her to make it all better. 

“Please B, I’m so sorry for whatever it is I did, please you have to believe me. Plea-”

And then he remembers.

His fingers move before his heart realizes it, ending the call. 

The screen goes dark as he slumps back against his pillows.

-

You hear the Bronco before you see it and you hear Bradley before you see him. 

You’re standing in the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes from breakfast, the boys long gone. 

You pause in your movements, as you wait for Bradley to say something, but he doesn’t. 

“B?” You toss out cautiously, setting the soapy sponge down. “Is that you?” 

He appears in the kitchen a moment later, looking haggard, though you can’t say that you probably fare much better at the moment. 

“I’m so sorry.” He whispers hoarsely. “So sorry.” 

Your eyebrows furrow as you wipe your hands off on a dishtowel, walking over to him. 

“What? What are you sorry for?” 

“I’m sorry that I hung up on you that night. You were in so much pain and I- I had no idea how awful they were to you. I had no idea what they had been saying and- and- and- here you were asking for help and I just ignored you. I was being selfish and I-” 

“Bradley.” You whisper, reaching out for him. “What- Where is any of this even coming from? I’m not angry at you for that any more, you know that.” 

“But I’m angry at me. And you should be too. What I did was fucked up and you just forgave me-” 

“I did not forgive you overnight, you know that.” Your eyes search his, finally deciding to take his hand and intertwine your fingers. “B, I’m- I’m kind of lost. Where is any of this coming from?” 

He heaves, his chest shuddering. “April called me this morning. Apologized profusely for how last night went, that she knew better than to stick you in that room with those people, that she should’ve known how badly they hurt you. But I didn’t- I didn’t know about them-” His breath keeps catching on his words and your concern grows. “I didn’t know about them showing up at your senior night.” He finally lets out in a hushed whisper. “I didn’t know.” 

Your face falls as you squeeze his hand. “Let’s- let’s go sit on the couch.” 

Bradley nods and you follow him out to the living room. He wipes at his eyes before sitting on the couch, you following behind him. 

“I didn’t know what Andrew said. I had no idea they’d shown up there to taunt you. I- I- I- never would have let them get away with saying it.” 

“They weren’t the only ones saying it.” You whisper. “Bradley, they just repeated what the whole school was.” 

“And it was all my fault-” 

“Bradley.” You say sternly. “I’m not going to sit here and say you don’t carry some responsibility in how it all played out. But I forgave you for all that. Neither of us were kind to each other in those years, you have to know that. I carry just as much responsibility as you do. And you’ve apologized, recognized that you hurt me. I’m not mad anymore.” 

“So you can forgive me, but not them?” 

“For the record, none of them except Morgan has ever offered me an apology. So I don’t know why I'd forgive them for things they aren't sorry for. Second of all, they have done and said things to me that you would never dream of doing and that’s what sets you apart. And yeah, maybe they’re right that I do know how to hold a grudge. I know that I hold what Ben and Sienna did to me a little too close to my heart, that them turning their backs on me cut deep. But I don’t hold that against you.” 

Your fingers rest in Bradley’s curls as he sniffs. “I should’ve been there-” 

“You’re here now. That’s what matters to me.” You take his hand again with your free one, gently kissing his knuckles as you do so. “I love you.” 

His eyes water before he swallows, his adam's apple bobbing. “I love you too.” 

You smile softly at him, pressing another kiss to his hand. “I know.” 

The two of you sit there for a few minutes before you sigh. “Fanboy and Bob broke into my house to make eggs benedict this morning and there’s some leftovers I just put in the fridge. I can warm you up some if you haven’t eaten yet-” 

“I don’t want you to think that we aren’t going to last.” 

You pause, halfway up from the couch. “What?” 

“What Paige said last night. That they think we aren’t going to last. I don’t think that and I don’t want you to think that either.” 

You falter, sitting back down on the couch. “I-” 

“It was bullshit and it’s not what I believe. I want us to last, more than anything else in this whole world. I know it’s only been just over a year but-” Bradley takes a shuddering breath. You’re my best friend in the whole world. I want you as long as you want me here and I know we’ve had our shit over the last year, we’ve had our fights and our people from the past but I don’t care about any of that as long as it’s you and me.” 

“It’s always gonna be you and me.” You pause before sighing dramatically. “Well, maybe you, me, and a dog. If that’s okay.” 

The corners of his lips twitch upwards, giving you a ghost of a smile. “Perhaps.”

[ahonice]

Thunder

Thunder - Lana Del Rey

Trevor Zegras x Fem Reader

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: !!!This is a work of fiction, real people in this story are depicted differently then who they truly are!!! Buckle up this one is rough (imo…read note for more context) ANGST, Trevor being a bad boyfriend (I’m sorry, I spun the wheel and he was who it landed on for writing this about like actually I have a wheel to decide who I write about) reader is going through it and cannot catch a break (who can though??) Cursing, drinking (underage, blacking out, drunken confessions) 

Note: This is my favorite Lana song ever, it’s so good (also describes my relationship with my ex PERFECTLY) um so this fic is literally just a telling of my past relationship in fiction form. But new series WHOOP WHOOP more Lana song fics coming soon

*Italics are song lyrics*

***

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Town ain’t been the same since you left with all your friends.”

Trevor Zegras, your alluring, passionate, loving best friend. Trevor Zegras, your manipulative, callous, apathetic boyfriend. 

You met Trevor when he moved to Michigan for hockey, he was sitting in your unassigned, but assigned, seat in your study hall period. You told him, as nice as someone could be at seven in the morning on the first day of classes after break, that he was in your spot and he immediately got up and moved to the spot behind you. Which surprised you, most people would be assholes about that and refuse to move because there wasn’t assigned seating in that class. What didn’t surprise you was that the guy you had moved out of your seat was now bothering you.

“Would you stop talking? This is a study hall, people might be doing work or studying, that’s what this period is for.” You told him, not very quietly making others in the classroom turn towards you. After he kept talking to you, well to the back of your head, about how god knows what. 

“Sorry, it’s just my first day here and I’m a little nervous.” The boy said, ducking his head in shame, immediately making you feel guilty.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were new here.” You said, a light blush spreading across your cheeks. “Do you want help figuring out where your classes are?” You offered in hopes to make up for embarrassing him. 

“Sure, that would be great” He smiled at you, “I’m Trevor.” 

“Y/n.”

***

The two of you hit it off, instantly becoming friends. You drove to school together, you hung out during your study hall period every morning, you sat together at lunch, you both had after school activities but afterwards you would meet up to work on homework or just hang out together. After a few months Trevor had asked you to be his girlfriend, and everything was going great, until it wasn’t.

Trevor was a year above you in school, having met when he was a junior and you were a sophomore. The gap never was an issue until the last month of his senior year came crashing in, he was moving to Massachusetts for college in August and you were staying in Michigan to finish off your senior year. The talk went well, you were worried that Trevor would want to break up because he was leaving and didn’t want to do long distance, but Trevor made it very clear that was not what he wanted and he was fine with doing distance for a year because he was sure you were going to get into any school you applied to and that meant you could go to school wherever he ended up after the draft. You were happy in the moment, but you later wished he would’ve just ended things with you then.

“You roll like thunder, when you come crashing in. Regattas in the wind, that's why you’re visiting.”

The first month of long distance seemed to be going great, over the summer you accompanied him to the draft where he got picked to play for Anaheim. Immediately after the two of you spent time researching schools in California, Trevor freaking out once he realized UCLA was under an hour away from the area where he would be staying. 

The second month of long distance went decent, his hockey season began so he was a bit preoccupied, but that was nothing you weren’t used to he had been playing hockey the whole time you were dating. What you weren’t used to was not being in close proximity with him, even with hockey seasons going on the past two years you still were able to see him after his practices got out, now you had to settle for text messages and the occasional phone call.

The third month of long distance is when it all started going to shit, he had a game against the University of Michigan, which you had attended of course, but there was a weird tension between the two of you. There was no flirting, no secret glances which ended in a fit of giggles once you were caught, no sneaking out of his hotel room to meet up with you, he didn’t even take you out to hangout just you two, he kissed you twice the whole time he was there. When he arrived and when he left, they weren’t even real kisses, just grazing of the lips. After he got back to Boston it was radio silence except for one text message.

From: Trev <3

It was nice to see you this weekend.

It was nice to see you this weekend. No I missed you so much, and I miss you even more now that we’re apart again. No I love you, no plans to visit or even call soon, nothing.

“You act like fucking Mr.Brightside when you’re with all your friends, but I know what you’re like when the party ends.”

By the fourth month of long distance your relationship was no longer a relationship, you texted a couple times a day, basically all being stupid imessage games, the only time you got anything close to a real emotion from Trevor was when he was drunk and he called you, he always called when he was inebriated, but you never liked what he said.

“I miss you, but I can’t do long distance anymore.”

“We aren’t the same anymore.”

“Next year when we’re in California I’m worried things will be different between us.”

“I don’t think I love you anymore.”

Each confession was worse than the one before, you’d always end the phone call telling Trevor to call in the morning to properly discuss your future together when he was sober, but he never did and he never remembered the conversations you’d had, leaving you to deal with the drunken confessions yourself, having to stomach knowing that your boyfriend who you love so much no longer feels the same and he won’t even admit it to you. 

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Everyday you waited for the text, the one where Trevor asked to talk to you. The one that would result in the ending of your relationship, but it never came. It got to the point where you wanted to do it for him, to rip off the bandaid he couldn’t. You knew you would never though, because even if he didn’t love you anymore, you still loved him, and at the end of this all you hoped next year, when you were living near each other again, everything would go back to normal between you two. You wish you weren’t so naive when it came to him, you knew you needed to break up, if not for his sake, for yours. It was taking a toll on you, on your mental health, on your school work, you ended up with a C in one of your classes at the end of your first semester of senior year, you had never gotten anything but an A, let alone a C.

“You roll like thunder, pouring all your drinks. The parties lit and you, my friend, half cut when it begins.”

The drunken confessions didn’t stop, they only got worse.

“I never opened the gift you got me for Christmas.”

“I hooked up with a girl last night.”

“When people ask if I’m single I say I am.”

“I’m doing amazing down here, without you.”

“When are we gonna break up?”

Each new confession was another knife to the heart, but you just sat there on the other side of the line listening to each new piece of information your boyfriend, if you could even call him that, would give you.

“You roll like thunder, you’re tryna catch that wind. That lightning in the bottle, that moonbeam in your hand.”

Senior prom came around, you weren’t surprised when Trevor told you he wasn’t coming. You didn’t blame him, even if your relationship wasn’t a shit show and he still cared about you in the slightest bit he had hockey stuff going on that night, and besides who wants to go to a high school dance after they’ve graduated?

What did surprise you was the phone call you received after you sent him a picture of you all dressed up, hair and makeup professionally done, the dress you saved up for months to buy.

“Hello?” This would be the first time the two of you would talk on the phone since November where Trevor wasn’t drunk.

“You look beautiful.” Whiplash rang through your body, Trevor had complimented you. He hadn’t done that in months, the smile that had grown on your face quickly dimmed when you came to that realization. 

“Trevor, why haven’t you broken up with me yet?” The question coming out of your mouth surprised you. You never thought you would be brave enough to face the reality of your relationship.

“Y/n, what are you talking about?” Trevor’s shocked tone of voice riled up your anger. Had he really not been able to pick up on the very obvious changes between the two of you? Was he that apathetic? Could he not tell how much of a toll this was taking on you? Was he even aware of how much you were hurting everyday just by the thought of him.

“We’ll talk later, please don’t drink tonight. I need to have this conversation with my boyfriend–” The words hurt to say, because he wasn’t your boyfriend and he hadn’t been since August, “-not with the drunk asshole he has become.” You hung up before he could say anything in response.

“And you try to see the brightside when each new day begins, but you’re not satisfied at the rainbow’s end.”

To your surprise, Trevor did end up staying sober that night, he waited by the phone for your call for hours, a nice analogy to how you’ve been spending your Saturday nights since you went long distance. You had gone to an after prom party with your friends and had a little too much to drink. You called Trevor, and this time you spoke the drunken confessions that would break your lover’s heart.

“You break me more and more everyday Trevor.”

“You cheated on me, and told me about it like it was no big deal. Do you remember that?”

“Do you remember when you told me you didn’t love me anymore?”

“I got into UCLA, I’m not going. I’m not following you to California.”

“Somehow, after all of this, I still love you.”

“You have to be the one to end our relationship, because I can’t do it.”

You hung up before Trevor could get a word in, hoping that he would take what you said to heart and finally, officially, break up with you.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

Trevor didn’t do it. He didn’t break up with you, he told you the next day he was determined to make it work. That he wasn’t giving up without a fight, which made you laugh seeing that he had given up and your relationship ended months ago.

The day of your graduation, you walked the stage and heard cheering from your friends and family. You heard him, you shouldn’t have been shocked that Trevor showed up, you had sent him the details to his ticket the night before, but seeing him and hearing him in person for the first time since the game he played against Michigan in November was enough to have you crying. You ran into his arms, he ran into yours. He whispered apologies in your ears, but they went in one and out the other. This was your swan song, the last time you would be his girlfriend, the last time he would be your boyfriend, the last time you would be in each other’s arms, it was bitter sweet.

“Cause if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, ‘til rain. Baby keep me ablaze. Honey if you’re on fire, you’re on fire. Just keep burning, keep me alive. Spare your blade.”

You stayed together, Trevor started acting like the boyfriend you once knew and loved, still loved. But you knew. You knew it was all an act, in august he was gonna move to California to get settled in before preseason and you were moving to Connecticut. You committed to Yale, not UCLA like Trevor had wanted. When you told him you could tell he was upset, he was hoping you would take back what you said to him the night of your prom, he was hoping that you were too drunk to remember you said it and didn’t mean it. Just like you had hoped all those times when he was the one calling you blackedout. 

Anyone around you could tell that your relationship was on its last life, they were shocked you even made it through the school year. You didn’t, but they didn’t need to know that.

It felt like your relationship was the only thing keeping you alive, it was all that kept your flame burning, but all flames die out eventually.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, honey, better walk away. Just do it. Just do it’ don’t wait. If hello just means goodbye then, baby, better walk away.”

Today was your last night with Trevor, you sat by the fire with him in silence until the final flame went out.

“We need to break up.” You stated, the second the two of you were surrounded by the darkness of the night.

“I know.” Trevor stated, looking at you, but he couldn’t see you. You couldn’t see him, you two were in pitch black darkness. The fire was the only thing providing light, but it was now dead. A cruel metaphor for your now dead relationship.

“Just do it. Just do it; don’t wait.”

***

Note: Hope y’all enjoyed, this gets pretty fucking sad. I’m toning it down a bit though just for the sake of my mental health (idk if I can handle reliving this in full honestly…again fuck you chris) Leave feedback, this one might not be everyone’s favorite but I need to write about my feelings because I’m still torn up about this (once again…fuck you chris) (chris is my exes name if you haven’t put that together yet) (I’m gonna stop spilling my guts to strangers on the internet) (goodbye.) This took two hours to write so it might not be my best work, but I proofread (no editing needed kinda worried about that lol) so I hope this at least a little bit decent. Love y’all babes <3

[spreadyovrwings]

My Love, My Life

it’s been about a year since i deleted the tim blog (if any of you remember that) and sometimes i miss the little fandom that got me through a pandemic and an awful time in my personal life, but just as i was starting to regress haha my girl informs me that she saved one fic before i deleted the blog, so, here it is, reposted.

i doubt i’ll ever write about him again but i do think some instance of tim should stay up on tumblr. i’m very proud of the weird little guy we made and so here he is again as a reminder of good times and good friends.

//

It hadn’t stopped raining all day. It was there before he first opened his eyes that morning. It was there on his walk to work. It was there when he locked himself away in his office, during the weekly meeting, while he was trying to work. It even followed him home.

Now, it was dark outside and water still struck the windows of his little apartment. Tim watched it reproachfully. Rain was supposed to bring life, to wash away all that had gone before. To him, it was just unsettling, cruel and cold.

He usually felt safe here, in the little home he’d built for himself. He could usually just curl up under a blanket and block out the noise as he waited for sleep to claim him. But this was different.

Tim had spent all day trying to figure out why, why the cold anxiety in his chest felt even worse than usual, why it felt like there was a rope tied around his middle, pulling tighter and tighter as the day wore on.

It wasn’t until he passed the kitchen door that he noticed the date on the calendar, hanging crooked by the phone. It must have been sitting in the back of his subconscious all day.

Tim stood in his empty kitchen, watching rivulets stream down the window pane out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t know what to do. He didn’t know how to fix this. He didn’t know how he could make himself feel better. He glanced at the clock. Well, there was one thing he could try.

Lex picked up after five rings. Tim almost hung up, fearing that she wasn’t home, but just as he moved the phone away from his ear, he heard it click.

“Hey, Tim.”

“Lex-”

“Did Ellie leave her book bag at your place? She can’t find it anywhere.”

Tim squeezed his eyes shut as thunder rumbled cross the sky.

“No, I don’t think so. I’ll check.”

“She had such a good time last weekend. She keeps telling her friends that her uncle is Indiana Jones.”

That made Tim smile, his first reprieve from the noise in his head all day.

“He’s an archeologist.”

Lex sighed.

“She’s seven, Tim.”

“And a thief. Indiana Jones, I mean. Not Ellie.”

“Did you call just to rag on Indiana Jones?”

“I just don’t think he’s a good representative f-”

“Timmy.”

The nickname stopped him in his tracks. No one ever called him that, not since he was a kid. Only Lex was allowed and only in special circumstances, when she was teasing him or when she thought he was talking too much. It was her gentle way of bringing him back to the present. But the present is exactly where he didn’t want to be.

“Do you know what today is?”

She laughed softly.

“Uh, Tuesday?”

“Lex.”

“June 11th, Tim. Why? What does-”

She broke off so abruptly, he thought for a moment they’d been disconnected.

When Lex spoke again, her voice was low and quiet.

“Oh.”

Tim pressed his knuckles into his forehead, hard. He leaned back against the wall, teeth gritted so tight that his jaw ached.

He was an idiot. He was a stupid, spiteful idiot. Just because he was overwhelmed by the memories, that didn’t mean Lex was too. She was happy. She had moved on. He’d ruined everything.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Tim turned and pressed his head against the wall, trying to keep his breaths even. “I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, no, it’s okay, Tim.”

“No, you’d forgotten and I made you remember. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have called.”

“I’m glad you did. And I hadn’t forgotten. I don’t think I c-” Lex went quiet for a moment, then she asked, “Do you want to come over? We’re just about to have dinner, I could save you some?”

Tim shook his head, even though he desperately wanted to accept.

“No, no, it’s okay.”

“Are you sure? It won’t be a problem, we can just-”

“Lex, it’s fine. Thanks.” Tim forced a smile, even if there was no one around to see it. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Well, okay. If you’re sure.”

Lex didn’t sound convinced. He wasn’t surprised. She could always tell when he was lying, even when they were little. She could read him like a book. But she knew better than to push, especially on a day like today.

“Ellie would love to see you.”

The thought of his niece made Tim smile again.

“Maybe tomorrow.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

He didn’t wait to hear her hang up. Tim put down the phone, keeping his hand pressed against the receiver as he tried decide what to do.

His head was so loud. Memories of the park, of his grandfather, the rain and the mud, swarmed like bees. More thunder rolled outside but all he could see was the flash of jagged teeth, burning yellow eyes, and his sister’s screams.

Tim passed Angela on his way to the door. She watched him grab his jacket, tail waving uneasily back and forth. She gently called out to him as he walked past again, arching her back towards him hopefully, but Tim only scratched her head.

The sound of the front door slamming shut behind him echoed through the apartment.

/

You were just settling a pot of water on the stove when you heard the loud knock at the door. You frowned, glancing up at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten, who on earth could be hammering on your door at this time?

You turned down the hob till just a tiny flame remained then pulled your old cardigan tighter around your body as you moved through your apartment to the front door.

Heart pounding, you peered through the spy-hole and gasped when you saw who was there. You moved back and wrenched open the door.

“Tim?”

He was dripping wet, rainwater slid down his face and off the ends of his hair. Tim’s shirt was two shades darker than it should have been and he’d left a small puddle on your doorstep. His shoes squeaked slightly as he stepped closer.

“Can I come in?”

You stared, too shocked to move. When you regained your senses, you moved to the side, gently pulling Tim inside.

The warmth of your apartment was almost painful. His skin smarted as you guided him into your living room, leaving a small trail of rainwater in his wake.

“I’m sorry,” Tim’s voice was hoarse, his throat raw. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have- You’re probably busy.”

“Shut up, of course I’m not. I’m never busy.” You squeezed his elbow, grimacing when water seeped onto your hand. “God, you’re soaked. Lemme take your jacket.”

He let you undress him, his eyes unseeing as you carefully guided his arms out of his thin outer layer. You threw it over the radiator, leaving it to dry as you went back to help him out of his shirt.

“Were you working late again?”

“No, I- I was at home and then I realised what day it is and I couldn’t- I didn’t feel- I had to get out of there,” Tim’s gaze flicked between you and the floor, his voice shaking. “And I was just walking around and I realised I was near your place and I had- I just had to see you. I-”

Your voice was gentle as you carefully began to unbutton the front of his shirt.

“Why were you walking around in the rain?”

“I…”

You paused, glancing up at him to make sure it was alright for you to keep going. When Tim nodded, his gaze fixed on you now, you moved onto the next button, carefully working your way down until you could push his shirt off his broad shoulders to reveal the plain white shirt you knew he would be wearing underneath.

“It’s been twenty-six years. Today. Twenty-six years today.”

Tim shuddered as you stepped closer, hoping you’d think it was just because of the cold and not the effect you had on him. It was the most he’d been touched in… Well, he couldn’t remember how long. It was enough to make his stomach lurch as your hands brushed his bare skin.

“Twenty-six years and I still can’t hear the damn rain without feeling like I’m gonna be sick.”

Your stomach twisted. You knew all about the incident. Tim had spoken about it only once or twice in all the time that you’d known each other, but you’d seen his scars, you knew the story, you knew how the fear he felt as a child still had its claws in him, even now.

“Tim-”

He looked down at the floor. He’d left patches of water on your carpet but you didn’t seem to care. His face felt hot, his eyes scratching. Soon, warm tears sliced through the cold water on his cheeks.

“It’s pathetic,” He spat out the words, angry and frightened and sad all at once. “Why can’t I- Why can’t I just get over it? I’m not a kid anymore, I shouldn’t be so scared all the time. I hate it.”

“It’s not pathetic,” you murmured.

There was a pause, just a beat, and then you moved closer.

Tim had half expected you to keep him at arm’s length, just like his parents, just like everyone he’d ever known, but you pulled him into a tight hug. He was soaked through and freezing, but you held him close against you, so close that he could feel your heart beating.

Then you were speaking to him, speaking to him in a voice so soft but so firm, a spark in your eyes, as you held his face between your hands.

“You went through something that no one else can understand. There’s no… Time limit for recovery.”

Your warm hands stung his skin but Tim leaned into them, wanting more, more of your warmth, more of you.

“I just… I wish I could…”

He rested his hands over yours, his long fingers completely covering your own, pressing them tighter against his cheeks.

“I know.”

Your thumb brushed away a stray tear. The thunder still growled outside but neither of you noticed it now.

“I know.”

Tim closed his eyes, taking in a few deep breaths.

He knew if he saw you, he would feel better. There was just something about you, this burning, golden light. It surrounded you, glowing stronger when you looked at him. He could feel it like sunlight on his skin. He couldn’t help but become addicted to the way you smiled at him, the shimmer of your voice, the warmth of your touch.

He could very easily stay like this forever, but he’d interrupted your evening, stormed in here jabbering about his problems, probably frightening you half to death at this late hour.

“Sorry,” he whispered, gently moving your hands away from his face. “I’m sorry, I should go.”

But your hands found his shoulders before he could go anywhere.

“Stay,” your murmured.

It was the most beautiful word he’d ever heard. Tim felt a shiver seep over his skin as your hands slipped down his arms, then around to his back.

“I shouldn’t have barged in like that-”

“Stay,” you said again, firm but gentle.

Tim gazed down at you. He wondered what on earth he had done to deserve you, he wondered how you always knew just what to say. He wondered if this is what love felt like, real love. He wondered if you knew that you felt like home to him, but like no home he’d ever known. He wondered.

“Have you eaten?”

Tim blinked, still dazed by your gentle touches.

“What?”

“Dinner. Have you had any?”

When he shook his head, you smiled and took his hand, guiding him to the sofa.

You left him for a moment to check that the pot on the stove hadn’t boiled over, then disappeared into the bathroom.

When you returned, you had a towel in your hands. You walked around to sit beside him on the sofa, shifting closer until your knee pressed against his thigh.

Instead of just leaving him to it, you began to towel his hair dry for him, moving the soft material around so carefully that Tim almost burst into tears. No one had ever been so gentle with him. You hummed to yourself as you worked, an unfamiliar tune but lovely all the same.

It was such a comforting feeling; he’d never really been looked after before. Tim had to hold in a soft moan as your fingers worked deep into his hair, moving from the roots all the way to the tips until it was no longer damp and he felt a lot warmer.

“Do you want the TV on? Music?”

Tim immediately missed your gentle touches when you stood up, his heart aching. But then you tugged a blanket from the back of the sofa and lifted it up high above his head so that it fell behind him, settling on his back. You pulled the corners around his shoulders, pushing them gently into his hands.

“Music would be nice.”

You left him on the sofa again, turning to run your fingertip along the spines of your CD collection. When you found the one you were looking for, you pulled it from the ranks with one finger, prised open the case and slipped it into the player.

Tim pulled in a long breath, and at last the tension in the pit of his stomach eased. He drew in another breath and another until he no longer felt that fearful ache. Then familiar music encircled his head with the same warmth as the blanket still wrapped around his shoulders.

‘I’ve seen it on your face, tells me more than any worn-out old phrase. So, now we’ll go separate ways. Never again we two, never again, nothing I can do…’

“I love this song.”

You smiled, laughing softly as you slipped the CD back onto the shelf.

“I know you do.”

And there it was. The terrifying, wonderful, strange truth of it all. You knew him. You knew.

You told him you were just going to start dinner but he could stay there, if he liked, in the warm. Tim agreed at first, happy to just do as he was told. But as the soft music soared around your apartment, he felt courage guide his body.

Soon he was in the kitchen with you, gently wrapping an arm around you waist.

Surprised, you turned away from the pasta boiling on the stove, and let out a relieved sigh as he pulled you against his chest. It felt so good to hold him, so good to be held by him, to have Tim’s hands on your back, his chest against yours.

“Thank you,” he murmured, turning and pressing a soft kiss to your temple.

It was just a quick, chaste thing, but it made your heart pound. You were worried he’d be able to feel it as he pressed closer against you.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“You did. Trust me.”

Tim moved away but not far, his gaze drifting between your eyes and your mouth. Thunder boomed outside but he didn’t even flinch.

He bent his head forward, his hands warm even through all your clothes.

“Thank you,” he murmured again, letting his forehead bump gently against yours.

Your breath shuddered as your eyes closed, and you bit your lip, embarrassed. Your heart seemed to be pushing against your ribs, pushing you forward against him, guiding your hands as they rose to press against his chest. You could feel his heart hammering under your palm.

“Can I..?”

He was so close now that his breath brushed your lips.

“Would it be alright if I..?”

You smiled.

“Yes.”

First his nose brushed yours, his hands smoothing down your sides to rest on your hips, then his lips just grazed your own. It was so gentle, you hardly felt it, but it was enough to set your heart racing.

You wanted more than anything to pull him tighter against you, but you waited patiently for him to move again. You would wait forever if he needed you to.

But then Tim’s hands pressed in, pulling you tighter against him, and your breath caught, lips parting as his mouth moved against yours, slowly, tentatively, but so, so, lovingly.

Tim found himself forgetting every worry that curled around his heart, every doubt he’d ever had about himself. All that mattered was you, just you and him, kissing in your kitchen on a stormy night.

You were disappointed when he eventually pulled away but he didn’t go far. You felt the tip of his nose brush past your cheek, then his forehead was pressed against yours again.

“You wouldn’t believe how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

He was warm, inviting. You didn’t want to let go. You were so stunned, you couldn’t even bring yourself to open your eyes, and when you finally managed to speak, your voice was small and breathless.

“Probably about as long as I have.”

You were so close that you were murmuring into each other’s mouths.

Tim let go of your hips with one hand, gently holding your face instead. His hands were rough and calloused, you could feel the raised lines of his scars against your skin. All you could think about was how they would feel running down your body, but that was another thought for another time.

Tim smiled to himself as you leaned into his hand, just as he had done to you.

“I came here because you’re the only thing that distracts me, from the rain, from all of it.”

You opened your eyes at last. In the low light, his gaze was warm and soft.

“I think that’s a compliment?”

Laughing softly, he moved closer still, and now Tim could feel every curve of your body against his. He felt a shiver run over his skin.

“It is, promise.”

There was a pause, just a moment, and all you could do was look at each other. Then your hands slipped up to his shoulders, pulling him back to you and you pressed your lips against his, much harder and more desperate than before, pulling at his bottom lip with your teeth, earning yourself a groan.

With a delighted laugh, you slipped your hand into his hair, pulling softly. You felt Tim practically melt against you, and you knew that he knew that you loved him, that he was safe, that everything was going to be alright, that you had him.

Tim groaned as your tongue pressed against his, moaning your own name into your mouth. His voice was so soft, almost like he was praying. He spoke your name pleadingly, quietly, kissing you so desperately that your whole body curved into his.

His hands were everywhere, excited and eager, on your back, pressing under the hem of your shirt, making you break the kiss with a gasp.

Tim took the opportunity and tried to catch his breath for a moment, his forehead pressed against yours again. He pulled in a shaky breath, hoping to settle his nerves but it had little effect.

Instead, he laughed, breathless and hopelessly happy as you pressed kisses all over his face, letting him know that you wanted him, loved him, needed him, whilst the storm raged on outside.

Instead, he just laughed, breathless and hopelessly happy as you pressed kisses all over his face, letting him know that you wanted him, loved him, needed him, whilst the storm raged on outside.

[venerable-sun]

Mångata (Nuidis Vulko x Reader) Pt. 1

Nuidis Vulko (Aquaman) x reader

TW: mentions of death and funerals

Summary: You never thought you'd return to Amnesty Bay. You definitely never thought you'd find love there.

2128 words

Part One | Part Two

So I know I'm super late to the Aquaman fandom, and to be honest I've never really liked superhero movies but I watched it yesterday and fell in love. In typical me fashion, it's the older mentor type that I'm drawn to and not the actual hero. Imagine my shock when I found out there are virtually no Vulko fics, much less reader inserts. Of course, I had to change that. I plan on this story being about 10 parts so buckle up, buttercups.

Little has changed in Amnesty Bay since you’d left seven years ago. 

The same men sit at their usual spots in the bar, albeit with a little more gray in their hair. The same store-clerks gossip with their customers, the town as close-knit as ever. The same lighthouse sits at the top of the cliff, shining its light out over the sea. 

You’d never meant to return, but as you stand on the porch of your parents’ house and breathed in the salty air, you find it hard to remember why you’d ever even left in the first place. 

The setting sun paints everything a golden yellow as you push open the creaky door and enter into the main foyer. You stifle a sneeze as wafts of dust are kicked up by the breeze, taking in the cobwebs that hang from the ceiling and staircase. You set your bags down with a sigh, the exhaustion of the last day finally catching up with you. 

You’d spent the last three days driving up the East Coast to get here, having packed up your things as quickly as possible after receiving a phone call from your uncle. 

You decide to unload the rest of your things from the car tomorrow, choosing instead to explore the house you’d grown up in. 

Just like the rest of Amnesty Bay, little had changed. 

You pause by the kitchen door, stooping slightly to examine the little lines marking your height as you grew older. The kitchen is the part of the house in the best condition, no doubt thanks to your mother. She’d loved to cook, and even as her and your father’s health waned you knew she’d still have wanted to maintain a good kitchen.

Your eyes trail to a piece of paper sitting on the counter, and you can’t stop the tears that well up when you read your mother’s handwriting. 

So focused on simply getting to Amnesty Bay, you’d left yourself little time to grieve, but standing in your parents’ house that was now yours, and reading something as simple as your mother’s discarded grocery list, the grief finally catches up with you. 

A loud knock startles you out of your stupor, and you hastily wipe the tears away as you go to answer the door. 

A man you’re very familiar with stands there, silhouetted against the growing dusk. There are more wrinkles lining his face than you remember, but his kind smile is the same. 

“Uncle Thomas!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around him. 

He hugs you back tightly, and the two of you embrace on the porch for many minutes before you pull away. 

“Look at you, all grown up.” He says, examining you from head to foot. You laugh, leading him back into the house. “I could say the same, Uncle. The years finally catching up to you?”

“Never,” Thomas says, lowering himself into a chair with a groan. “I’m as young and spry as I was twenty years ago.” 

You shake your head with a chuckle, moving into the kitchen to order a pizza for you to share. When it arrives, the two of you eat and talk about your life away from Amnesty Bay, how going to university went and your old job. 

“Do you know if there are any teaching positions open at the schools up here? I’d love to continue teaching.” You ask. 

“I’m sure I can ask around.” Thomas pauses for a second. “... so you plan on staying, then?”

You glance away, looking out the window at the moon’s reflection off the sea. “I never thought I’d come back,” you say slowly. “Growing up, all I ever wanted was to get away from this sleepy town, to live somewhere as young and vibrant as I was. But now, being back by the sea, here in this house, I don’t know how I stayed away so long. I just wish my return was under better circumstances.” 

Your uncle reaches across the table and lays a comforting hand on your arm. You meet his gaze, the grief in his eyes matching your own. You may have lost your parents, but he’d lost his brother, too. 

Silence reigns for a moment before you clear your throat and stand up. “As much as I’ve appreciated this visit, I’m exhausted.” 

Thomas stands too, and you accompany him to the door. The two of you embrace again before bidding each other farewell. You are left alone once more, the old house creaking as you make your way upstairs to your parents’ old bedroom. 

The room is as dusty as the rest of the house, but you pay it little mind as you unceremoniously drop your bags on the floor and open a window to let the breeze in while you sleep. 

You go through your bedtime routine in a fog of tiredness and grief, not bearing to look at the pictures lining the walls or your parents’ belongings still strewn about. When you finally collapse into bed, sleep takes you immediately. 

~~~

You rise with the sun the next morning, enjoying a mug of tea on the back porch while you plan on what to do with your day. 

You decide to unload your car first, making a quick call to your friends from your old home to make sure they would be sending the rest of your things in the next few days. You spend the rest of the day cleaning the first floor, sorting your parents’ things into “keep” and “give away” piles. You stop at about midday, covered in sweat and dust as you look over your work. 

You’d started with the living room first, and were quite proud of what you’d accomplished to say the least. You’d rearranged the furniture to your liking, swept and mopped the hardwood floors, and cleaned out your father’s old bookcases to make room for your own books that would be coming. Most importantly of all, you’d vigorously cleaned the grande piano sitting in the window, its ivory keys now gleaming. 

You sat on the bench, pressing down on a random note and wincing at the out-of-tune pitch that filled the room. You would definitely need to call someone about getting it tuned. 

The antique grandfather clock in the hall chimes noon, and you jump up, having forgotten about the plans you’d made with Thomas to meet him for lunch. 

After a quick shower you dash out the front door, hopping onto your bike and pedaling into town. Your uncle is already at the restaurant, the only one in town, when you get there, and you apologize profusely for keeping him waiting. 

“It’s no problem,” He smiles easily. “An old man knows how to wait.” 

You scoff before biting your lip as a thought occurred to you. “Where’s Arthur? You didn’t mention him yesterday and I’d really like to see him.” 

Thomas sighs, suddenly looking his age as his shoulders sag. “You know he’s always been surly and moody. He’s been away the past few years now, but he calls every once in a while. He’s coming back for the funeral.”

You nod, swallowing the sudden lump in your throat as the waitress comes by and takes your orders. 

“Oh, I asked around like I said I would, and I think I found something you’ll be really happy about,” Thomas says conspiratorially. “The high school has an open spot for a music teacher, and they want you to take it.” 

You raise an eyebrow in suspicion. “There was no music teacher when I went there. How can there be an open spot for a job that’s never existed before?” 

Your uncle simply shrugs with a twinkle in his eye and mimes zipping his lips. You shake your head in amusement at his antics. “Thank you, uncle, for abusing your power as an eligible bachelor and convincing the principal to create a job for me,” you say teasingly. 

The rest of the meal passes lightheartedly, and he accompanies you to the market afterwards for groceries before giving you a ride back. 

“Make sure to board everything up tonight,” he warns as he helps you gather your bags. “There’s supposed to be a really bad storm blowing in. I’ll swing by in the morning to check on you, but call me if anything happens.” 

The two of you part ways once more, and you pass the afternoon on your hands and knees scrubbing the kitchen floor. The wind picks up outside as dark clouds begin to creep over the horizon, hiding the beginning of the sunset from view, and you decide to stop cleaning for the evening to watch the storm. 

You’d forgotten how the ocean can be both beautiful and terrifying, and you watch in awe as large waves crest and crash against the beach. Lightning flashes brilliantly through the sky, illuminating the bay as thunder rolls in the background. 

You gasp suddenly, spotting a shape crashing onto the shore as waves pounded relentlessly. You press yourself against the window, trying desperately to see what it is. Lightning flashes again, the unmistakable shape of a man struggling to stand sending you dashing out into the storm. 

You’re soaked almost instantly you race down the cliff stairs as quickly as you dare, rain whipping into your eyes making it hard to see. Your feet sink into wet sand as you descend onto the beach, pushing wet hair from your eyes as you frantically search for the man. 

You hear a low groan between peals of thunder, spotting a dark shape laying on top of the sand. You run over to him and fall to your knees, turning him over to rest on his back. You barely register his handsomeness as you feel for his pulse, faint but still there. You look over the rest of his body, pushing away your curiosity at his strange attire when you see the chain twisted around his ankle and the metal lobster trap dragging at the end of it. The skin around his ankle is rubbed raw and bleeding, and you struggle with the chain as you try to remove it. 

“I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt,” you say through gritted teeth, giving the chain a harsh tug that frees it from the man’s leg. He groans in pain as you toss it away, the rain beginning to fall even harder. 

You somehow manage to get him sitting up, wrapping his arm over your shoulder as you prepare to stand. “If you can hear me, I’m going to need you to help me get you standing.” 

He doesn’t reply, but you feel his fingers grip your shoulder for a moment before his hand falls limp again. 

You take in a deep breath before pushing yourself to your feet, your legs shaking under you as you shoulder most of the man’s weight. You begin walking one step at a time through the rain, exhaustion and cold starting to sap you of your strength. 

You push yourself to continue though, knowing that if you stop even once you might not be able to start again. After what feels like hours, you finally make it off the beach and up the cliff to your house. 

Water streams off your forms as you awkwardly maneuver your way into the living room, plopping the man unceremoniously onto the couch as the last of your strength leaves you. You collapse onto a chair, panting hard and shivering violently as the storm continues to rage outside. 

As you catch your breath, you take the opportunity to finally fully examine the stranger you just saved. Dark hair streaked with gray falls across his shoulders, and while he isn’t brawny, you can see the outline of muscle on his body. His face is peaceful as he sleeps, but you can see the fine lines from worry and stress that he must carry during his waking hours. Despite being on the older side, you can’t help but find him incredibly handsome. 

It’s then that you remember his ankle, your legs screaming in protest as you stand once more to fetch the first aid kit. You clean and bandage the wound as best you can and place a pillow underneath his foot to elevate and stop the bleeding. You run your fingers tentatively over the material of his clothes, pulling away at the almost scaly feeling. Leaving that mystery for when he wakes up, you drape a blanket over him and place a glass of water on the table before heading upstairs to change into dry clothes. 

After a hot shower, you can barely keep your eyes open, and stumble into bed where dreams of crashing waves and ocean blue eyes plague you all night long.

Don't forget to like and reblog! My requests are open, check my pinned post for more details. If you'd like to be tagged for this story, please message me or leave a comment.

[cinematicnomad]

4, 6, 10, 14?

004. do you outline before you start writing? if so, how far do you stray from that outline? do i!! sometimes. lol, it’s not typical of me? i’ve gotten into it a little more in recent years. honestly, i wish i could just show you guys my outline for taste your beating heart. it’s a fucking monster. the first 1.5 pages is basically the very early broad original draft and then it dives into a chapter-by-chapter outline and continues on for...another 63 pages (which is now almost all in red bc every time i finished a chapter i’d change the font color). and it’s pretty detailed! like entire dialogue sections are in there or descriptions i think of or a vague idea of someone’s emotion or background research for the magic stuff. i definitely can stray from an outline. but i’ll usually then go back and rework the outline itself lol! like originally the TYBH outline was planned for 18 chapters, and i eventually realized i needed to change a plot point which wound up adding a whole extra chapter to the fic. 

but honestly for the majority of my fics i do not use outlines. mainly bc for the most part i tend to punch out my fics in one or two sittings and don’t really need an outline (unlike TYBH which, again, took me seven years to write). at most i might jot down some minor outline-ish ideas for the rest of the fic so i don’t forget things, but that’s pretty much it. 

006. if you’re really concentrating, how many words can you write in a day? i mean, i pounded out like 13k+ in about 30 hours when i wrote the first draft of so show me (family). and i mean, not in one day, but i churned out like 43k+ in the month of october when i was finally wrapping up taste your beating heart (which YOU know because you edited it all for me <333). i wrote 17k+ in less than 24 hours when i was writing the last 2 chapters (according to my notes on that post i did nothing that day, not even really eat, just sat in my room and wrote). 

010. do you enjoy writing dialogue, exposition, or plot the most? dialogue! exposition kind of? plot not so much lol. so like, dialogue comes pretty easily for me—maybe it’s my lifetime of dreaming imagined conversations but i can often hear my characters speaking to each other when i’m working through a scene. exposition i enjoy...not in the sense of like, conveying necessary information for plots sake, but like...those meandering, wandering thoughts where the character is thinking back on their life or having quiet regrets or yearning. love to write that kind of stuff. 

plot is hard for me, it’s why a lot of my fics are much more ‘this person has FEELINGS and they THINK ABOUT THEM and FEEL THINGS and sometimes there’s a conversation and a kiss! tada!’  once again taste your beating heart is a serious outlier. 

014. if you were stuck on a desert island with only two characters, which would you pick? already answered :)

behind the scenes of fic writing: 30 questions for authors

[firstbeachgoblin]

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Twenty-One

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: as someone who is physically incapable of reading fics and other long tumblr posts line by line and word for word, i think it’s so fucking cool that a bunch of you regularly, excitedly read what i post. i would not blame you at all for skim reading. thank you.

***

The majority of Cassian’s life was spent battling with the fact of his own existence. First he was fatherless, then motherless, then homeless. Being taken in by Rhys’s parents, who bought him nice clothes and nicer gifts, was like putting a bandaid over a stab wound. It couldn’t change the questions that made up Cassian at his core: was he equal to everyone else in this world, or had he been born inherently inferior? Did he deserve the same happinesses that his friends so carelessly reaped, or should he step back and know his place?

The older he grew, the more he grappled with those questions—until the night he learned who his father was, and the truth behind his existence. That he was likely a product of rape. Nearly driving himself drunk off a mountainside in Monte Carlo was enough to make him realize with a startling clarity: he couldn’t keep asking himself the same questions for the rest of his life. At some point, he was going to have to buck the fuck up and make his peace with the world, whether he believed he deserved to be in it or not. And though it might have taken him a while to reach that conclusion, Cassian can proudly say he did it. Not long into his post-college years, Cassian finally grew up.

By twenty-seven, he was secure enough in himself and his place in the world to not have to deal with those doubtful voices every waking minute. His life was figured out, and his ego was unshakeable. Until Nesta Archeron entered the story.

Now at twenty-eight, Cassian is again unsecured—this time in a less tragic but more confusing way. Because everything he thinks he knows about himself, about life, she insists on proving wrong.

Including the issue of celebrating his birthday.

“I feel like I should have asked this earlier,” Cassian mutters to Nesta as they stand in the cozy resort lobby, “but why is Az here?”

Nesta looks both humiliated and resigned when she mutters back, “He wouldn’t pay for the resort unless I let him come with us.”

“At that point you should’ve just let me pay, babe.” He watches Azriel’s back as he chats up the lady at the front desk while getting their room keys.

“On your own birthday? It would have ruined the point,” Nesta says.

Cassian doesn’t retort that having his brother present at their couple’s retreat also ruins the point. He’s sure she already knows.

Nesta’s reaction when Cassian told her that he didn’t celebrate his birthday was unforgettable.

“No one in our inner circle really cares about birthdays,” he had shrugged. “Feyre’s birthday is the exception because she’s sort of the outsider, and Rhys will find any excuse to worship at her feet. But the rest of us? I don’t know, it was never a big deal.”

As someone who’s never skipped a birthday once in her life, even when she was isolated and ignoring her family’s phone calls, Nesta took this as a personal offense. “I need to get you out of this cabin,” she stated.

Which brings them here, to Colorado’s finest ski resort situated high in the Rocky Mountains. The lobby is littered with overstuffed armchairs and a crackling fireplace, and huge windows look out over the blinding white mountains.

Az starts heading their way, key cards in hand, when Cassian suddenly turns to Nesta. “We need to find him a woman,” he whispers.

“What?”

“We can’t let him third wheel with us for the whole weekend. We’ll never get time alone.” Cassian is set on this new plan, already scanning the lobby for women around Azriel’s age.

“I agree, but—”

Azriel reaches the two of them, tossing a room card to Nesta. “You can stop talking about me now. I’ll be spending most of my time hitting the slopes.”

Cassian and Nesta mumble a halfhearted, “We weren’t talking about you.”

He narrows his eyes at them. “Uh-huh. Just remember whose credit card this is going on.” Picking up his ski gear and duffel bag, he turns for the elevator.

Nesta frowns up at Cassian once Az is gone, more adorably than she probably intends. “Do you think he’s upset?”

He scoffs. “We should be upset at him.” He doesn’t want to have to worry about his brother while he’s on vacation, and Az definitely wouldn’t want him to worry either, but it isn’t something that can be helped.

Despite his irritation, he might go skiing with Az later this afternoon. Just to keep him company.

***

Nesta will give it to Azriel—he’s a man of fine taste, and also generous with his spending. She originally wanted a normal room for her and Cassian, preferably the cheapest one, but Az went behind her back and upgraded them to a fully decked out penthouse suite.

“This is too much for just a weekend,” she tells him over the phone while Cassian is in the bathroom. “How am I supposed to pay you back for this?”

“Why would you pay me back?” he says dismissively. “I’m rich.”

When Nesta tries arguing with him, he only replies, “I don’t take money from poor people,” and hangs up on her.

Which leaves Nesta to enjoy the four-spray shower and heated bathroom tiles free of charge. By the time she comes out of the shower, Cassian has already left with Azriel to hit some slopes before dinner, though not before leaving her a note promising to teach her how to ski tomorrow.

Nesta doesn’t even get to unwrap her towel from her body before realizing her phone is ringing incessantly, all the way from the other side of the suite. Jogging over to the living area, Nesta answers Emerie’s call. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” Emerie greets without introduction.

“At the ski lodge?” Nesta answers, confused. “I already told you, for Cassian’s birthday.”

“I know that,” Emerie hisses. “I mean what room are you in? This place is huge.”

“Wait—you’re here?” Nesta looks quickly around herself, as if Emerie will pop up from behind the couch.

“Not just me. So is Gwyn.” Nesta hears rustling on the other side of the line, and then Emerie saying from a distance, “Answer for your crimes, Gwyneth. Say hi.”

A new, clearer voice comes over the phone. “Hiii, Nesta.” Gwyn sounds weak, like she is not having fun at all.

“What the hell do you two think you’re doing?” Nesta demands.

“Well, it’s a long story and I need to see you first. Also, I have to pee. Where is your room?”

Five minutes later, Gwyn and Emerie are sitting obediently before the roaring fireplace in Nesta and Cassian’s suite.

Now fully dressed, Nesta stabs a finger at Emerie. “Explain.”

“I didn’t do anything,” Emerie says indignantly. “Gwyn barged into my place at eight in the morning and dragged me all the way here—”

“It was an emergency!” Gwyn tosses her hands in the air. “It still is an emergency. That’s why we’re here.”

“I’m here because Gwyn is scared of traveling alone,” Emerie interjects. “And driving on highways.”

“Guys!” Nesta snaps.

Gwyn makes a whining sound of defeat and drops her head into her hands. After a long moment, she speaks. “He asked if we could go to dinner together. Like, right to my face. And I panicked and said yes, because I couldn’t think of a reason to say no, but obviously I can’t do that. So this morning I cashed in my sick days and told him I was going on vacation for a whole week.” Gwyn looks up at Nesta with pleading teal eyes. “Please can we stay here the whole week?”

Nesta stares at Gwyn, feeling like her brain was just sucked dry. “First of all, who’s ‘he’?”

“Max!” She stands in her outburst. “The love of my life. The man who works on the fourth floor of the library. Do you pay attention to the groupchat at all?”

Oh yeah, that guy. “You came all the way here,” Nesta drawls out slowly, “so you wouldn’t have to have dinner with your crush?”

“It wasn’t just any dinner.” Gwyn flops back onto the couch. “It was a date. I can’t go on a date with him. First dates lead to second dates, and second dates lead to—sex.” She whispers the last word.

“Really?” Emerie frowns, not missing a beat at the mention of Gwyn’s deepest fear. “What kind of dates have you been having?”

“I haven’t been having any dates,” Gwyn says. “Why, how long do you usually see someone before doing it?”

“First date, at most,” Emerie shrugs.

“No,” Nesta steps in, sending Emerie a bewildered look. “Gwyn, you’ve known this guy for a while now. If he’s half as decent as you think he is, he won’t expect sex by the second date. And even if he does—”

“What does it matter?” Gwyn wails. “It’ll come up eventually. And when it does, he’ll think I’m a freak.”

“He won’t get a chance to think anything before I kill him,” Emerie says, eyes darkening.

Nesta says nothing, knowing this is something she can’t advise Gwyn about. Whether or not Gwyn chooses to share her past and unresolved trauma with another man, and whether or not that man reacts in an unshitty way isn’t something Nesta can determine. So she just states for the record, “You��re not a freak.”

“But it’s what he’ll think.”

“Then you shouldn’t be with him in the first place,” Nesta says firmly. Even though she knows better than anyone that it isn’t always that simple.

Proving her point, Gwyn scoffs and looks away. “You don’t get it.”

“What I really don’t get,” Nesta says, “is why you took your lie so literally. Why did you come all the way out here instead of hiding out at home for the week?”

“Merrill sees and knows everything. I can’t lie to her.” Gwyn cringes. “If I stayed at home, she would sniff me out as soon as she got me on the phone, and then I’d really be screwed.”

Nesta cocks her head at Gwyn, squinting her eyes in something akin to fascination.

“I had the same reaction,” Emerie pipes up. She shakes her head at Gwyn. “I’ve never met a more melodramatic idiot, truly.”

Gwyn curls into herself on the couch, looking ashamed.

Nesta sighs sharply, then whips out a hand. “Give me your wallets. I’ll go downstairs right now and see if I can book a room last minute.”

Emerie sits up at that. “Uh… I’m not sure I can afford a place like this.”

“Neither can I,” Nesta says. “That’s why Azriel paid for all of us.”

Gwyn’s eyes go comically round. “Azriel’s here?”

“Unfortunately.” She snaps her fingers at both girls. “Credit or debit, now.”

“So… I’m assuming we can’t just share this huge suite with you guys, huh?” Gwyn says hesitantly.

There might be actual flames in Nesta’s eyes. This is Cassian’s birthday, goddammit. Cassian, who hasn’t celebrated a birthday since he was eleven. “Please don’t push me.”

Gwyn and Emerie, very reluctantly, hand their cards over to Nesta. Emerie hands over two, just in case.

In the end, Nesta doesn’t use any of their money, but charges the new room to her own account. She’ll work it off by putting extra hours into Night Court, she tells herself.

When she returns to the penthouse suite, she spies tracks outlined in melted snow at the doorway. Shit. She barges inside to find Cassian and Azriel standing in the middle of the living area, with Emerie looking awkward on the couch.

“Uh, we just got back—” Cassian starts.

“I can explain,” Nesta interrupts.

A faucet turns off in the distance, and Gwyn peeks her head out of the bathroom door.

“Oh, shit,” Azriel says in delight. “Freckles is here too?”

Gwyn looks like she’s about to turn right back around to the bathroom. Nesta and Cassian both throw Az a baffled look, but Nesta says, “I can fix this. I’ve already fixed it.” She goes over to Emerie and hands her a key card. “You and Gwyn are going to stay on the first floor, and you won’t bother me or Cassian for the duration of our stay. It’ll be like you’re not even here.” She whips toward Gwyn, who still hovers near the bathroom doorway. “And at the end of this weekend, you’re going back to work like the adult you are and taking care of your shit.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gwyn says quietly, lowering her head.

Cassian comes over to Nesta, whispering, “So, you didn’t invite them to keep Az company or anything, right?”

“I can hear you,” Azriel says.

“Of course not,” Nesta whispers back. “That’s a terrible idea.”

“Really? Because I thought it was kind of convenient—”

“I can still hear you,” Az repeats.

“So can I,” Emerie nods.

“Shut up,” Nesta hisses at the both of them. Grabbing Cassian’s still-gloved hand, she drags him upstairs and away to their bedroom. When the door shuts behind them, she turns to him and blurts, “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only laughs, taking his ski jacket off and brushing away the wet snow from the back. “I’m not.” He tosses his jacket and gloves over a chair and approaches Nesta, tugging her closer by her oversized turtleneck. “And what did I tell you about wasting your apologies?”

Nesta doesn’t care. “I ruined your birthday.”

“My birthday’s not until tomorrow,” he says with a straight face. “But honestly, I like this a lot more than just you, me, and Az. At least he can’t third wheel anymore, right?”

She shakes her head insistently, frustration boiling in her blood. “Everything’s going wrong.”

“But you solved our problems.” He finds Nesta’s clenched fists and unfurls them with gentle hands. “You got the girls their own room, and now Az can be distracted with those two. We can still be alone. We win.”

Nesta purses her lips, unconvinced, when Cassian adds, “But seriously, though—what the fuck are they doing here?”

She exhales deeply, letting her head drop forward onto Cassian’s chest. “I don’t know,” she mutters. “Gwyn panicked about some personal stuff and thought it was a good idea to come to me. I don’t want to make her leave, though.” Gwyn is being stupid right now, without a doubt, but Nesta won’t abandon her. Neither will Emerie.

God, having friends sucks.

Cassian threads a hand through her loose hair and hums. “Gwyn was smart for coming to you.”

***

Dinner is held outside in the snow and cold, but everyone bundles up and sits down at a table that surrounds one of the multiple fire pits in the courtyard. Cassian convinced Nesta to let Gwyn and Emerie hang out with them for the weekend, because what else are those poor girls supposed to do, and now the women babble over each other as they decide what to drink.

Cassian sits back and takes it in, the sight feeling heartwarmingly familiar and strangely brand new at the same time. Nesta ends up being the one to order everybody’s drinks, and once the waiter scampers back inside, Gwyn releases a terse breath. “Sometimes I still get scared of that tone.”

“I’m always scared of it,” Az mutters, eyeing Nesta from the corner of his eye.

“What tone?” Cassian laughs. He knows Nesta is still a little wound up from her plans going off the rails, but she hasn’t done anything scary.

“I’m used to it,” Emerie says through a mouthful of fries, “but I think that waiter almost cried.”

“That’s how I sound all the time.” Nesta shrugs, sitting back.

“What tone?” Cassian repeats.

Nesta clicks her tongue impatiently. “You know how I talk. I’m straightforward.”

“And harsh,” Azriel adds. “Even aggressive.”

“Watch it.” Gwyn turns stern eyes onto him over the fire pit.

“I have no idea what you all are talking about,” Cassian says. He turns to Nesta. “You sound perfectly normal to me.”

She narrows her perfect brows at him, and Emerie laughs, “I don’t know if that’s romantic or ignorant.”

But now that they’re discussing it, Cassian does distinctly remember Nesta having a sharp edge to her words while they were getting to know each other. Did it disappear over time, or has he really stopped noticing it?

He doesn’t get to think about it before their drinks arrive, followed soon by a dinner of fancy sandwiches.

Cassian cuts his beef sandwich in half and gives the other half to Nesta, and she does the same with her turkey sandwich. They eat and drink around the crackling fire, laughing and talking about tomorrow’s plans (“It’s not your birthday, Azriel,” Nesta says. “Stop asking about gifts.”). Cassian and Emerie talk idly about video games over wine, and even though it isn’t really his thing, he can see her excitement over it and gladly indulges it.

Once everyone is finished eating and is slightly drunk, Gwyn pulls a small sleeve of crackers out of her puffy jacket, followed by a fun-sized Hershey’s bar and a handful of mini marshmallows.

“What are you doing?” Nesta says.

“Making dessert.” Gwyn builds a mini s’more and places it carefully on her fork so she can toast it over the fire pit. When it’s done, she leans forward even more to try to put it on Nesta’s plate. “For you. Thank you for letting me and Emerie stay.”

Nesta jumps, catching the s’more with her plate and batting Gwyn away from the fire pit at the same time. “You’ll set your hair on fire,” she hisses.

Gwyn’s hair remains safe, but now Cassian catches his brother watching Gwyn amusedly from the corner of his eye. “Can I have one?” Az says.

“I’m all out.” Gwyn says while building another s’more, refusing to meet his eyes.

Cassian and Nesta share a look, a hundred words thrown back and forth between them in that glance. She scoots her chair closer to him to slip her cold hands into his warm ones, but while the conversation carries on around the table, she leans in and whispers, “I’m not a busybody but…”

“I am,” he whispers back. “Az is being weird, weirder than usual.”

Nesta nods. “I’ve never seen him so—outgoing.”

Neither has Cassian, but before he can mention anything else, he looks up to find that Gwyn and Azriel’s seats at the table are empty. “How much did those two drink?” he breathes.

Nesta follows his gaze, seeing what he’s seeing: Azriel and Gwyn wandering clumsily around the snowy courtyard. Or rather, Az is trying to chase Gwyn down for a s’more, while she clutches her mini marshmallows to her chest and vehemently yells, “They’re mine!”

Meanwhile, Emerie is half asleep at the table.

Cassian watches as Gwyn nears the towering fir tree at the center of the courtyard and slips. Az shoots out a hand to catch her, but not before her ass hits the stone, hard. He pulls her back up, no longer fooling around, and Gwyn rubs her butt in pain.

Cassian suddenly feels Nesta squeezing the life out of his hands, and he looks over to find fury written across her face. For a heartbeat, he feels worried for Az.

“Go deal with him,” Nesta says lowly. “Before I do.”

Not needing any more words to understand, he stands out of his seat and heads out into the courtyard. He doesn’t know why Nesta thinks Gwyn needs protecting, but it makes him feel protective himself. Approaching the duo, he sees that Azriel finally acquired the leftover s’more ingredients from Gwyn.

“There’s only like half a cracker left,” Az mutters to himself, shaking the baggie.

“Is he bothering you?” Cassian asks Gwyn, who still looks grumpy over losing their skirmish.

Whipping her head to Cassian like he’s her savior, Gwyn nods furiously. “Please make him stop.”

Cassian turns to Azriel with rage in his eyes, a clear What the fuck do you think you’re doing?

But Az shakes his head in denial. “It’s not like that. Look, she’s smirking at me!” He points over Cassian’s shoulder.

When Cassian looks, Gwyn is already walking back to the fire pit, holding her bruised ass.

Az starts, “What a fake little—”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Cassian interrupts. “Yesterday you’re crying over Elain and today you’re flirting with Nesta’s friend?”

Azriel goes serious, his face turning colder than the night air. “How do you know about Elain?” he says gruffly.

“Everyone knows, Azriel.” Cassian stares down his brother, wondering if he’ll finally get him to get his head screwed on straight after these past weeks of secretive bullshit.

Azriel sets his jaw, but a muscle there ticks.

“Will you finally at least tell me what’s going on in your head?” Cassian pleads. “Because I can’t keep guessing.”

Azriel glances toward the dinner table, as if checking to see that no one is paying attention to them. Looking back, he inhales a breath. “You want to know why I left Velaris?”

Like Nesta, Azriel is not one to quickly make himself vulnerable. So there’s no blatant emotion in his voice when he says, “I started seeing her at the end of summer, not long after she broke up with her ex. And it was so…nice after every other relationship I’ve been in has gone wrong. We kept it quiet, and because of that, it was peaceful.” Azriel’s eyes meet Cassian’s twin ones, and he smirks without humor. “But you already know what that’s like, don’t you?”

He does. Cassian crosses his arms, waiting for Az to continue.

“Anyway, we had a good run. For a long time, it was mostly just sex, but I liked her. I liked her a lot.” Az kicks at the snow-dusted cobblestones. “Then Christmas came around, and Rhys found out.” His face darkens as he remembers, and Cassian stiffens, knowing what’s next isn’t good. Sometimes Rhys forgets the boundary between boss and brother.

“He didn’t say anything about it to Elain, of course,” Azriel says. “But he dragged my ass aside and gave me this huge lecture about us using each other as rebounds. Said ‘Feyre’s sister’ deserves better or some shit. I told him there was more to it than that, but he wouldn’t listen. Instead he brought Vanserra & Co. into it, like his business matters had anything to do with me and Elain.” Azriel’s eyes crinkle at the corners in a puzzled way. “So I got to thinking, ‘why would he bring the Vanserras up?’ He made it seem like such a big deal.” The toe of his boot digs a hole into the ground.

Sympathy churns alongside anger in Cassian’s chest for Azriel’s situation, anger at Rhysand for crossing that line between brothers. He’s only momentarily grateful that Rhys never tried doing something similar to him and Nesta.

“I thought she was over that other guy, Lucien,” Az continues. “But maybe she’s not, if Rhys is so concerned about what Lucien’s stepfather thinks. Anyway, that’s why I ran. Because I knew she liked me, but I also knew she didn’t love me. I didn’t want us to cause all that trouble with Rhys just to end up backed into a corner one day, having nowhere else to go because she loves someone else and I’m just a rebound. It would be awkward for everyone involved.” He scratches the back of his neck. “It’s mostly my fault, for always chasing after women I can’t have.” He finally looks up at Cassian. “When you talk to Elain, does it sound like she hates me?” The question is quiet, straightforward.

“No,” Cassian answers, voice rough. Even if Azriel wants to hide his feelings, Cassian won’t. “She doesn’t seem like she hates you. I don’t even think she’s mad at you.” Concerned, anxious, upset—that’s Elain as far as he knows.

“She should hate me,” Azriel says. “She should get pissed, burn my old clothes, and swear to never talk to me again. That’s the only way she can move on.” Maybe even move back to Lucien, is what goes unsaid.

Cassian isn’t so sure about that. Even as he feels for Az, he thinks both of his brothers should get slapped upside the head for how they’ve been acting lately. He won’t be the one to do it, but he might get Nesta to relay a message to Elain. It’ll be the same thing. “I’m sorry,” he tells Az instead. “I know I’ve been hard on you lately. When we get home, I’ll start doing better.” He claps Az on the shoulder and squeezes.

Azriel surprises him by scoffing, looking away in disbelief. “Wow, being compassionate is really a full time job for you, huh?” He claps Cassian’s shoulder back, pulling him into a sudden hug. “You’ve already done more than enough,” he says into Cassian’s ear. “Go to your girlfriend and take a rest.”

Taken aback, Cassian nods and pulls away. He’s about to turn around and leave when Az says, “By the way, I wasn’t flirting with Gwyn.”

Cassian raises a brow. “You were definitely doing something.”

Az rolls his eyes. “I’m not giving her anything she can’t handle. But in case you haven’t noticed, I have no interest in other women right now.” He makes a face. “Especially not her.”

Cassian chuckles. “I believe you. It’s Nesta you need to worry about.”

“Whatever. I’m not scared of her.”

That makes Cassian laugh even harder, but he turns around, ready to go back to said girlfriend. As he nears the fire pit, though, he finds that Gwyn is already there and cuddled up to Nesta. On Nesta’s other side, Emerie now sits in Cassian’s chair, asleep on her friend’s shoulder. He stops in his tracks.

Cassian wasn’t lying when he told Nesta that he was happy about their changed vacation plans—he believes the more the merrier, and he loves these people. Yet he can’t help but wish the two of them could be alone for just one day. Only one.

God, sometimes having friends sucks.

***

a/n: this is a two parter so next chapter we’ll finally be getting more nessian alone time

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland

[starkerscoop]

Little Touch of Heaven (Ch. 1)

Written for the @starkerfestivals​​ Summer Bingo

Prompt: Love at First Sight

And no, they do not get together in the first chapter. Despite my fluff rep, this fic will have some drama and angst, so buckle in!

Tag List: @snowstark​​ @nerdylocksandthethreebears​​

ao3

Tags: omegaverse, high school au

-

“Did you hear about the new kid?”

Tony’s ears perked up at the excited question, and he spared a glance at the direction it came from. Two girls stood by the blue lockers with animated expressions, and Tony wondered where they got their energy from. It was seven in the morning, damn it. It shouldn’t have been legal to be awake at this time, let alone to chatter loudly in the hallways.

“Yes!” the second girl said in response. “Have you seen him yet? He’s so cute.”

Tony scoffed and continued moving through the hall. He had no time for romance or aimless gossip. He was only attending school so that he could go on to university, escape his parents, and never return to his hometown. There was no need to concern himself with who was or wasn’t conventionally attractive.

The notion of a new student did intrigue him, however. It wasn’t often that teenagers or children moved to what was essentially the middle of nowhere. The most that the town got was retired elders seeking a quiet life.

Tony reached his locker and jerked on it harshly, getting its stubborn door to swing open with practiced ease. He pulled out the textbook he needed for his Physics class and stuffed it into his bag. After zipping it up, he shut his locker and turned, ready to make his reluctant way to his classroom, only to come face to face with James Rhodes, his best friend of twelve years.

“Hey, Tones,” Rhodey greeted. “You ready for Markovitz’s test?”

Tony quirked an eyebrow. “Are you doubting my skills? Please, I could do it in my sleep.”

“That makes one of us,” Rhodey grumbled, annoyance passing over his face. “The least he could’ve done was make the test later on in the week. But no, we have to take it first thing in the morning on a Monday. I haven’t even had coffee yet.”

“You’re good at Physics,” Tony insisted. “Markovitz is just a shit teacher.”

Rhodey gave a helpless shrug. “Nothing we can do about it. We need his class to graduate.”

Tony nodded in agreement and they stepped into the classroom, which was halfway full of students who resembled zombies more than the teenagers they were. Their faces were marred with stress lines and deep eyebags, but that was no shocker. It was their last year of high school, and they were overcome with a need to both work themselves to the bone and give up, letting life take them where it pleased. A great deal of the graduating class wanted to move to the big cities and become more than small-towners following in their parents’ footsteps. It took a lot out of them.

Tony and Rhodey took their seats, which were, unfortunately, on opposite ends of the classroom. That wasn’t much of a problem for Rhodey, who was charismatic and got along with most people he encountered. For Tony, who preferred for people to stay away from him at all times, with the exception of a select few, it was equivalent to the end of the world. But he made do.

It didn’t take long for the rest of the class to file in, and by the time the bell rang, they were all at their desks. Mr. Markovitz cleared his throat, bringing their attention to him.

“We have a test today, so you better hope you studied, because this one’s a tough one.”

He allowed them a brief moment to groan and roll their eyes, and continued:

“But before we start, I have someone I’d like you to meet. Come in and introduce yourself, Peter.” He finished speaking and turned his head to the door, his students mimicking the action with curious eyes.

A boy walked in with his head down, his brown curls flopping over his forehead with each short step he took to the front of the classroom, where he stopped and looked up at them with a grimace. Tony could sympathize. He’d never had the ‘new kid’ experience, but he imagined it wasn’t good.

The boy began to speak. “My name is Peter Parker, I’m from New York, and I want to be a chemical engineer.”

Peter gazed around the classroom, his stare lingering on each student with a curiosity of his own, until it landed on Tony. Their eyes widened as they met, and Tony felt his breath catch in his chest. The tenseness of Peter’s jaw seemed to melt off of him the longer they stared at each other, and Tony’s heart fluttered at that. He’d never calmed anyone at sight before, and he thought that, that was what might’ve been happening at the moment. A smile, small but bright, started to grow on Peter’s face, and Tony found himself blushing.

“Take a seat, Peter,” Mr. Markovitz interrupted, and the eye contact was broken.

Peter shuffled to the only available seat, the one two rows in front of Tony’s, and sat down next to Ned Leeds, an omega who led the only Lego Club in the entire state of Montana.

Mr. Markovitz walked through the rows at a hurried pace, tossing a test face-down in front of every student. He’d handed everyone a test in the span of a minute, eager to begin testing.

“As usual, there’s no multiple-choice in my class. You have forty-five minutes. I’ve set the timer; you may begin your test.” Once he finished speaking, Mr. Markovitz perched on his desk with the timer next to him, and didn’t move an inch for the entirety of the test, watching them all with strong focus.

He’d said more than once that he hated cheaters, and he took enough precautions that no one doubted him. Aside from keeping an eye on them as they tested and making all their questions short-answer, he also gave his students different versions of the test, so they couldn’t ask each other for help.

Tony gripped his pencil tightly, attempting valiantly to forget Peter’s presence for the duration of the test, and read the first question.

You have a mass of 71 kg and are on a 51-degree slope hanging on to a cord with a breaking strength of 165 N.

(a) What must be the coefficient of static friction between you and the surface for you to be saved from the fire?

(b) If the coefficient of static friction is zero, what would the incline angle have to be in order for the cord to not break?

He’d read up on static friction over the summer to prepare for Physics. This was something he knew the answer to. And yet, his mind was drawing a blank.

As the minutes ticked by, heat flickered at the base of his spine and rose up as panic stirred in his gut. He’d never stumbled over himself in a science test like this. What was going on? What was wrong with him?

Despite his alarm, he glanced up from his papers to look at Peter, who was scribbling away on his test. Perhaps Tony had gotten the harder version, and Mr. Markovitz had overestimated the students’ ability to pass Version B. That had to be it.

Tony sifted through the pages, skimming every question to identify ones he could answer, but his search came up fruitless. The questions, though phrased in terms he was familiar with, weren’t bringing any answers to mind, and he released a distraught whimper. Thankfully, no one seemed to notice, all engrossed in their tests.

Forty-five minutes flew by quickly, Tony’s stress making each second spent frantically scanning the test for something he could answer, shorter.

Mr. Markovitz collected each test with the same rushed demeanor he’d handed them out in. He tucked them into a drawer in his desk, locked it, and faced the class with his hands clasped before his stomach.

He announced, “Your tests will be graded by the end of the week. For homework, read the next chapter of the textbook, and be ready to discuss it tomorrow. Class dismissed.”

Everyone stood up, pushing their chairs in and rushing to their friends, no doubt to gush over the test. Tony made his way to Rhodey with an awful feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“That was horrible,” Rhodey sighed, massaging his hand to rid it of the soreness it had acquired during the test. “I bet it wasn’t for you, though, boy-genius.”

Tony shook his head mutely.

“What?” Rhodey placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. “It’s all right, man. Even if you failed, one grade won’t do anything to you.”

Tony didn’t agree. “I need to pass if I want to make it out of here.”

“One bad test won’t tank your grade,” Rhodey asserted. “I promise.”

Tony smiled grimly. “We’ll see what my parents have to say about that.”

[usmsgutterson]

Yellow- Pin Hawthorne

OKAY, YES-- I’ve wanted to write for Pin Hawthorne since having finished the show, and I’ve decided to do it, because I simply can’t resist and Pin is my favorite moody horseboi, plus, this blurb (imagine? I don’t know how long it’s gonna go yet!) is entirely inspired by the songs Yellow and Sparks by Coldplay, because the show is modern and the songs were released W A Y before the years that show is set in, so yay! 

Pins aged up in this, as well. In the show he’s around 16-17? In this, he and the reader are both 20!

I might have Pins characterization a little off because I’ve only watched the show once (I’m gonna rewatch it before I do a shadow and bone rewatch,, moody pin is just a bit too endearing) but other than that, lets do it!

The reader is American for this, and I did mostly keep it gender neutral, aside from an outfit description! Even then, though, I did try to keep it androgynous

Fic type- fluff

Warnings-none

It took a ton of convincing on Pins part to get his dad to let him use the castle for something that, to anyone else, might’ve seemed small. He’d known it might’ve, and started the process a good month before the event was even to happen. A decision that he’d made that wound up working in his favor. 

“You really love them, don’t you?” His father asked, pressing the keys into his palm as Pin gave a nod. “Even with all the stupid nicknames?” Pin grimaced, but nodded again. 

“Even the stupid nicknames, Dad,” he assured. “All of them.” His father broke out into a smile, pulling Pin in for a hug as he tucked the key away into his jacket pocket.

“Well then, happy anniversary,” his father mumbled. “Five years? Gotta admit, I had faith, but I didn’t think you’d make it this far. Not with someone like them.”

“I know,” Pin retorted. “I’m pretty lucky.” Pin knew that ‘pretty lucky’ might as well have been understatement of the year, but went along with it anyway, pulling away from his father and slowly approaching Elvis, patting his side a few times before climbing onto the saddle and riding down to the castle that he, as the duke, could technically call home. 

The castle was big and at times, tough to get around, but he made his way just fine, letting Elvis move at a slow gallop rather than a run, figuring that he had the time, considering you’d agreed to meet at 8 and it was barely 7:15.

When he arrived, he put Elvis away safely, and made his way through the entrance and up to the outdoor balcony, which had a view outlooking the expansive land on which the castle was built, and the trees that went around the outerrim of the space.

He grabbed his bag off the chair on which he’d had his butler leave it the day previous, almost grinning to himself as he sat at the glass table, rummaging through the bag for everything that he’d put in it.

A bottle of wine, because why not, several sweets, a ton of the polaroids you’d taken in the seven years you’d known each other, some fairy lights that he’d hang up so that you weren’t totally and completely in the dark, and a bluetooth speaker that Becky had gotten him that Christmas; one that he’d still not bothered to use, despite the fact that it was almost June. 

“Can I get you anything sir?” Arthur poked his head through the balcony door way, and Pin found himself startled. 

“Uh, yes please. Wine glasses,” Arthur gave a single, solitary nod.

“The dinner that you requested will be here by the time you requested for it,” he responded. “Though, are you really sure fast food is what you want? It doesn’t seem right to celebrate an anniversary with fast food.” Pin forced his gaze to his lap so that Arthur wouldn’t glimpse his smile. 

You’d come from America, just like Zoe had, but you’d moved with your family to the island when you were eleven. You’d met Pin when you were thirteen. 

One summer, Pins father was insistent that he get away from the stables, spend some time somewhere he’d not gone before, travel a little, and your family had agreed to let him spend the eight weeks of summer with you in the united states. 

You’d had your first date in a McDonalds that same summer, when you and Pin were fifteen. He’d felt weirded out, at first. The fact that he’d never eaten from a McDonalds, despite there having been a couple on the island, almost made him confused. You’d gotten chicken nuggets to split and a couple of the pastries to count as a desert of sorts, and thus sparked the relationship.

“No reason,” Pin murmured. “It’s quick. It’s easy, and the last meal that they ate was lunch.” Arthur gave another nod, and Pin began fiddling with the speaker as he heard Arthurs footsteps grow farther and farther away. 

It was a speaker that was almost the size of his hand and designed to look like a vintage radio. Forest green was the color, and the dial on the right side would control volume. The three buttons below the dial were the power button, the on/off button, and the skip button. Pin turned it on, checking the sound quality by playing two MCR songs, silently bopping his head as Arthur returned, the supplies that Pin had asked Arthur to gather in a bag perched neatly on his arm.

Arthur placed the bag on the table wordlessly, leaving Pin to do his thing as he stopped using the speaker,  deciding that the sounds of nature; the river, the rustling of trees and the beautiful view of the sky as the sun grew closer and closer to setting was much better company than Gerard Way scream-singing his lungs out. 

He’d spent the remainder of the time he had working on your gift. At the end of it, he felt proud of himself, even despite how dumb he’d thought the idea was at first.

It was all of his favorite photos of you--polaroids he’d taken via polaroid camera and polaroids that became polaroids when he’d used a polaroid printer alike-- neatly put into a big picture frame, plus a couple of his sweaters that you liked to steal, some of your favorite sweets, and a journal he knew you’d been eyeing at one of the shops. 

Arthur put the McDonalds onto the table in the last ten minutes before eight, putting the wine glasses beside the bag. “I’ll send them here when they’ve arrived,” he murmured, shooting Pin a smile as he turned and walked away. 

Sure enough, ten minutes later, Pin had the dinner mostly set up, the chicken nuggets at the center of the table, fries on either side, wine glasses filled the appropriate amount. 

“You’re lucky I love you, Hawthorne,” Pin was almost breathless as he glanced over to you, putting the bag that he’d put your gift in on the ground to his right. “If you were anyone else, I’d not have waited so long to eat dinner.” You’d worn a simple pair of black jeans, with a black turtleneck and a dark gray blazer overtop. You styled your hair like you always did, and your smile was bright, eyes warm as you looked at him.

“McDonalds and wine,” you sat, putting the gift you’d gotten Pin on the ground to your left, reaching across the table and taking his hand in yours. “The perfect way to a persons heart.”

“Do you like it?” He asked, gesturing to the fairy lights Arthur must’ve put up while he was busy in the world of gift making. They weren’t lit yet, as the sun had barely begun to dip over the horizon, but he’d light them once it grew darker. You nodded.

“It’s absolutely lovely,” you responded. “I didn’t think you’d put this much effort in, to be totally honest.” You were poking at him, pricking gently at his work ethic in the hopes of getting a kiss across the table. 

“I’d have been fine just cuddling the day away,” you admitted. “And I know you would’ve, but thank you. For everything.” He smiled, feeling grateful for Zoe’s suggestion that he use the castles balcony to his advantage when he’d brought his plans up to her and Marcus. 

“You’re welcome,” he responded. 

After that, you lapsed into a comfortable silence, making occasional conversation as you ate and drank. You let Pin ramble about the sick horses at Bright Fields and made a mental note to visit the hospital part of the stables, see how they were doing and make sure they knew that they were loved. As you cleaned up, putting your garbage back into the McDonalds bag, you gave Pin updates on some of the horses around the stables and the wild horses that you and Jade had been tracking. 

“There’s a foal, too!” Pin loved seeing you get so excited, and that was no exception. “I know that we shouldn’t name the wild horses, but I couldn’t help myself, so I named the horse November.”

“Why November?”

“The foals coat is white. Snow is white, and snow happens in November. It just seemed fitting!” You grabbed the bag, going inside only briefly to put it into the nearest trash bin before walking back out and sitting back down. 

Pin grabbed the bag with your gift in it at the same time you grabbed the bag with his. He slid yours to you with a bright smile, and you slid his to him with the same.

You opened yours first. “Your hoodies!” You yelled out, smile turning into a full on beam, “Pin, you know that we’re moving in together in the fall, right? You’re just gonna get these back!” Pin shrugged.

“You get them until the fall, I’ll wash them, wear them a couple of times, and then they’re yours again. I get to see you in my clothes and you get to be warm and comfortable constantly! I call it a win-win situation!” 

“Can’t disagree with that!” You put the sweaters back in the bag, grabbing the photo frame next. 

You sighed, feeling your legs turn to jello as your heart melted. You looked up at him, feeling tears well up in your eyes as you did. “Five years of polaroids,” you whispered. “And you’re giving them back to me?” Pin just shrugged, feeling tempted to round the table, crouch next to you and kiss you senseless, but he resisted. 

“I took photos of them,” he responded, pulling his phone out of his pants pocket and waving it around. “I can always get more copies from the polaroid printer.” You laughed lightly.

“Thank you, Pin, so much.” You’d never stop saying it. You had so much to thank him for. Every smile, every laugh, every dinner date, every ride out into the countryside and every kiss. 

“You don’t need to thank me, love,” he responded. “Theres one more thing in there for you.” He gestured to the bag as you put the photo frame back into it, pulling out the journal you’d been eying a moment later. 

“No fucking way!” You cursed, turning it over in your hands. Pin leaned back into his chair, shrugging while he nodded. 

It was a simple journal: a brown leather bound thing that was the same color as Elvis’s fur, but it had pages that were suitable for practically anything.

“I know you’ve wanted it for a while, and, well, I figured you could use it for just about anything. Sketches, diary entries, even putting bank statements in the thing would make a good use for it,” You slightly stood, planting a kiss to his nose across the table. 

You put the journal back into the bag and gestured to the bag he’d put in his lap. “It’s your turn, duke.”

“Don’t call me that,” he whispered. He narrowed his eyes at you, but the smirk that followed after told you he’d not been serious. 

The first thing he’d pulled out was a scrapbook of the years that you’d spent together. From photos like the victory one that Ted had taken after you’d completed riding lessons, Pin doing a thumbs up on the right side of your horse while you sat on it still, throwing a peace sign and smiling, to random photos you’d taken together. 

Blurry ones that’d been taken with the timer feature. You flipping off the camera while Pin flopped back onto his bed. One from when you were both sixteen, in the middle of turning around, his arms snaked around your waist and yours resting on his shoulders as you kissed, the screen blurred but not so blurred that you couldn’t tell what was happening. 

A couple that Zoe, Jade, Becky and Marcus had taken. You, exhausted, with your head in Pins lap as he fiddled with a camera, curled up and almost hidden from sight in the haybales. You and Pin at the pony prom, slow dancing, looking at each other with nothing but love in your eyes. A shot taken as you and Pin left the stables, backs to the camera, hands interlocked. A photo of you and Pin in the haybales again, you with your head on his chest, his arm around your shoulders, hay in your hair. A laptop sat discarded beside Pins sleeping body, playing old episodes of Criminal Minds. Both of you had sleepy smiles on your faces. 

Pin laughed as he saw more than one picture of you two asleep in the haybales, some taken by Jade, most taken by Zoe, though there were a few shots that’d been taken by his father. 

“I love this,” he glanced up at you, then to the speaker that sat on the edge of the table. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, horse-boy!” He snorted, putting the scrapbook on the table and grabbing the next thing in the bag.

It was a sweater; one that he’d not seen since before his eighteenth birthday. “Thief,” he murmured, folding the sweater and putting it atop the scrapbook. 

“You’re my favorite person,” was your lovestruck retort. He blushed as he grabbed the last thing in the bag.

It was a camera; a polaroid to replace the one that’d been broken in the months before, and it was vintage. 

“You didn’t,” he looks up at you, face showing disbelief as clearly as his voice did. In response, you just shrugged.

“We’ve taken a lot of photos, and you loved the polaroid camera. I used a connection or two that I have and I grabbed it for you.”

“How much was it?” He asked. “We had a limit! No more than fifty pounds!” 

“It was forty nine pounds, and the taming of a wild horse found just outside the coast of Maine. She comes in a couple of days, by the way.” Pin put the things back in the bag and stood, grabbing the speaker and turning it on, connecting his phone to it a minute later.

“You love chaos,” he teased. “But I love you, so I love it by association.” He held his hand out to you, and you took it, giggling as he pulled you in close, bringing you into a passionate kiss that lingered on your lips even after it’d ended. 

He paused only to have Yellow by Coldplay stream through the speaker, putting his phone on the table next to it.

“May I have this dance?” He asked, emphasizing more on his accent in a silly way to get you to laugh. It worked, to his delight, as you nodded, cheeks flushing bright red.

“You may have every dance, if you so wish it,” he felt his cheeks heat up as he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead and gently swaying with you as your arms moved to rest at his shoulders and his moved to your waist, wrapping around it, his hands meeting and folding at the small of your back. ‘

He’d found a way to loop the song so that it played a couple of times back to back, but you didn’t mind. You had Pin. You had Pin and his sarcasm, his smiles, his voice, still drenched with sleep in the mornings and his peaceful face while he slept. You had tea in the mornings, quiet afternoons spent riding or in helping horses, and evenings laughing with your friends, Pin at your side. 

You’d known Pin for seven years, and you’d been dating him for five. He was like the lgiht at the end of a very long, very dark tunnel, and he embraced you tightly as you finally escaped it. 

“What makes you happy?” he asked you absentmindedly, just to get to hear the melodic sound of your voice again. You laughed, meeting his gaze with a smile. 

“You, Pin,” you responded. “You make me happy.” He stared at you for a long moment, wishing that he had what he’d kept in his sock drawer since Christmas. 

“What makes you happy?” You repeated.

“You, Y/N. Always you,” you leaned up, pressing your lips to his without so much as thinking twice.

The kiss was messy, and you stumbled backward a little, but you giggled as you did. When you pulled away, you were delighted to find that Pins cheeks were burning as bright as yours, the same red that coated some parts the sky as the sun dipped down the horizon. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Pin was almost in awe at how easily you said it, like you’d been reading off a grocery list or ingredients for a recipe. Pin had wanted to say it since he’d bought the thing that sat in that pathetic little sock drawer, but he’d still not figured out how to say it and make it worthwhile.

“Do you want forever?” The closest he’d get, but he was fine with that, and relieved as you’d nodded. “I promise you forever then, Y/N.”

[twilightdruig]

help?

pairing : george weasley x fem!reader

summary : “hi i’m your neighbor and while i know we’ve never spoken but you’re a single parent of two and my sister recently died leaving me to raise her infant and i have no idea what i’m doing, help?” au

warnings : swearing , mentions of character deaths , fluff , au where george lives alone with his two children in a cottage near the burrow , au where fred and cedric live.

words : 2.6k

a/n : this is my first fic so it’s probably gonna be shit (as you can probably tell i’m not good with titles either) but yeah hope you enjoy :> and i might do a little part 2 on this soon

holly l/n was loved by multiple. a sweet hufflepuff student who was favored by all the teachers and students. her sister, y/n was a scary and intimidating gryffindor who hung out in the library.

ever since the battle of hogwarts death eaters have been imprisoned in azkaban. but, that didn’t mean all harm was gone.

now here y/n l/n was, standing in the heat of the summer, her nephew connor l/n mourning the death of a family member.

the service was beautiful. a few hogwarts students came including luna lovegood and neville longbottom and professor sprout and professor flitwick decided to pay their respects. headmistress mcgonagall sent her condolences through a letter as well.

conner wasn’t old enough to go to hogwarts yet. there was no one else for holly to leave connor with. her husband, ronan died during the war, all connor’s grandparents died and the only appointed godparents were holly’s best friend cedric diggory and her sister y/n.

cedric diggory was now teaching first year flying at hogwarts and is married to cho chang.

y/n was currently doing nothing with her life. she wanted to live alone in a cottage, reading, stitching, picking apples and getting drunk on fruity cocktails. but now? she had to take care of her sister’s spoiled son.

y/n hated children more than she hated the people in her own hogwarts house. more so, she didn’t know how to take care of them.

she had to enroll her nephew in hogwarts, teach him basic life skills and other stuff like that. there goes her life goal on being that cool stoner aunt that hates love and children.

—

“shit, connor!” y/n exclaimed as her 3 year old nephew accidentally ate a ton tongue toffee made by the joke shop in diagon alley owned by the weasleys.

“sorry aunty y/n”

she was never close to the weasleys. all of them, stereotypical gryffindors, loud and chaotic and always the main characters.

the only thing she knew about them is that one of the twins live next to her. y/n didn’t know how to shrink his tongue and thought it was quite the convenience that he lives next door. he was a single dad with two daughters, maybe he could help her control her nephew and technically her adopted son, now.

she sighed. “put on your coat, we’re visiting our neighbors, ok con?” the little boy nodded in response

—

went the small cottage came into view, there were two little girls picking flowers on the front yard and a tall red-headed man on the porch watching them.

“hey! weasley!” she yelled with a small smile as she approached the small gate.

“l/n? what are you doing here?” george asked

y/n gestured to her nephew who was holding his now 3 foot long tongue. “he accidentally ate one of your products and i’m not entirely sure how to fix it”

“right, right” he laughed “come on, connor right? i’ll reverse that”

y/n felt a tug at her oversized cardigan. she looked down to see two identical ginger twins.

“hi there!” one smiled.

“hello!” y/n tried to sound as nice as possible. looking back at her teenage years she remembered laughing at kids who fell of their brooms their brooms when she’d watch first year flying. she remembered laughing at seamus finnigan when something blew up in his face. or when she’d laugh at any kid accidentally getting hurt.

“these are for you! they’re pretty just like you” the other twin exclaimed.

“i’m charlotte and she’s billie” charlotte giggled.

“how do u know our daddy?” billie asked

“oh! um, we went to school together and i live just next door” y/n replied

“do you know our uncle freddie?”

“i know all your uncles and your aunt ginny, aunt hermione and uncle harry. they were all famous when we were in school”

“wow!” they both exclaimed

george and connor came back out. “look aunty y/n! my tongue’s normal again!”

“aunty?” george questioned. “holly. she died quite recently.”

“oh! i’m so sorry. i heard about her. yeah. i believe mum sent some flowers for the service”

“yeah we received them”

“i’ll see you around?” george inquired

“yeah, yeah. and i might need some parenting advice? you knew how i was back at hogwarts”

“i am flattered, dear l/n”

“oh hush. and they get along.” she pointed to the three children running around.

“they do. and yes, i would love to help you tame that little rascal” george laughed.

“thank you, george. really.”

“i’m just next door, yeah?”

“yeah” y/n smiled “come on, connor. we’re going home. but we’ll definitely be seeing these lovely ladies soon.”

“bye pretty lady!” y/n heard two young voices call after her

“daddy, who was she?”

“is she gonna be our new mommy?”

—

george and y/n had been hanging out for the past weeks. he had given her advice on taking care of connor and how to deal with children. they also spent time talking about family and their time back at hogwarts. she was told about the attack of death eaters at one of his brothers’ wedding and how his daughters were named after his brothers bill and charlie.

a knock at y/n’s door interrupted her reading.

“oi, l/n!” she heard a familiar voice on the other side of the door.

“weasley” she muttered.

connor recognized george’s voice and the twins’ giggles, he decided he would take matters into his own little hands. connor knew how stubborn his aunt was at the young age of seven.

“hi billie! hi charlotte! hi uncle george!” the little boy squealed.

“hey there, con!” george ruffled his hair while billie and charlotte ran over to y/n.

connor and the twins were two years apart. connor was going to hogwarts the next year. no doubt would he be trouble to professor mcgonagall but everyone knew they were always her favorites.

“aunty y/n! uncle george brought cookies!” connor yelled excitedly. y/n was never the type to bake or cook. she did try to but it always ended in almost burning the house down. she usually fed connor fruits or store bought food.

“you didn’t have to” y/n responded while taking the plastic box.

“oh yes i did” he teased “i heard you’ve been starving this poor little fellow”

“daddy didn’t bake those cookies” charlotte stated “grandma did” billie continued

“oh” she smirked at george then turned to the twins “tell your grandma i say thanks!”

“uncle george! i wanna show you something outside! the twins can come too!”

“connor, what are you gonna show them?” y/n grumbled.

“your paintings! they’re amazing” her nephew jumped.

“paintings, eh?” george smiled “okay, let’s go, champ. see those paintings of your aunt.” the two scurried outside, two redheaded girls following after.

y/n groaned and fell back into the couch, finishing her book.

—

it’s been a few days since george and the twins came with cooking to y/n and connor’s cottage. she wanted to throw connor a little surprise birthday party.

connor has loved the twins and george so much, he thinks of them as blood relatives. y/n decided to call up cedric and cho to look after connor while she’d do some errands.

the two arrived exactly on time as y/n was preparing to go out. she had on a simple cardigan and loose denim pants.

“ced! cho! hi, how are you guys?” y/n greeted as she saw her old friends apparate into the cottage.

“hi y/n!” cho greeted “hey nerd” cedric snickered.

she sent cedric a small glare before connor jumped at the two.

“uncle ceddy! aunty cho! you’re here” he shouted.

“yeah buddy! your aunt’s gonna run some errands and visit your uncle georgie?” cedric winked at y/n. she had been owling cedric about george and how he’s been helping her with connor.

“are you going out with uncle george?” connor asked, eyes twinkling.

“i don’t know, actually. i might check him out next door.”

“george weasley?” cho teased.

“yes, cho,” y/n rolled her eyes “but on that note, i have to go”

“bye, connor! behave okay?” she crouched down and squished his cheeks.

“bye, ced! cho!” her voice faded when she dashed out the door.

—

y/n passed george’s cottage to see if he actually might want to come with her and do errands.

she was standing outside the small gate, hesitating. ‘maybe he was busy’ ‘he wouldn’t want to do errands with me’ ‘maybe he would if i told him it was for connor’s birthday’ she thought. y/n didn’t know why she was overthinking her choices. the first time she was standing right outside the gate she bursted in and demanded george to fix whatever happened to her nephew. now, she was nervous. her palms were sweaty and clammy.

she pushed herself in and walked to the front porch. she knocked a few times and was met with a head of messy brown hair.

“hermione?!” she squealed

“y/n!” hermione jumped to hug her old friend.

there were overlapping voices in the background and when they pulled away she was met with multiple mops of ginger hair, a head of blonde hair and another with black hair behind hermione.

“l/n?” ginny weasley asked, quite shocked what she would be doing outside george’s door.

“oh! did i interrupt something? i am so sorry!” she said feeling a bit nervous.

“oh! you must be the dearest y/n george keeps talking about!” an old woman she thought was mrs. weasley approached her from behind her children.

“hi there!” y/n said feeling a little embarrassed she might’ve barged in on a family reunion.

“ah! l/n? i have heard of your family! muggle-borns right?” arthur weasley joined his wife.

“uh, yeah!” she pursed her lips “i am so so sorry i interrupted! i should go. tell george i’ll swing by next time”

“oh it’s absolutely alright, dear” molly reassured her.

“george! there’s a really pretty girl! get your arse out here!” fred yelled to george who was probably inside the house.

“is she here?” charlotte and billie ran to the door.

“hi girls! tell you dad i was here yeah? say i’ll come by next time” most of the weasleys came back in. she took it as her time to go on with her day.

“oi! y/n! wait up” the voice she recognized as george’s called after her.

“george, hey”

“where’r you off to?” george pointed to the small bag that was swung over her shoulder.

“errands. connor’s birthday is coming up so i thought i’d prepare something for him. first birthday without his mum, you know”

“his birthday’s coming up?” george looked as excited as a child on christmas morning.

“yeah. why?” she smiled

“you’re talking to one of the best party planners there is. you also did talk to another one of them… i think”

“fred?”

“oh yeah”

“i wanted to ask if you wanted to come but seeing as to your family is in your house… i’m gonna take a wild guess and say you aren’t available right now” she giggled.

“maybe if you went another day” he said sympathetically. george really wanted to go and prepare connor’s party with her. he treated him like his own and boy did he remind him of how fun it was to be a kid. he loved his aunt so much it was adorable.

“george. seriously, it’s okay. spend time with your family” she laughed.

“yeah, yeah. i’ll see you when you get back” he waved.

—

connor’s small birthday gathering was in full swing. y/n became acquainted with george’s siblings. bill, charlie, percy (whom she was actually friends with back in hogwarts), fred, ron and ginny. hermione was a very good friend of hers and so was harry. she recognized fleur from that day in the cottage as beauxbatons triwizard champion.

connor had quite a bunch of guests for his birthday. cedric, cho, luna, neville, fred, percy, ron, harry, hermione, bill and fleur and their little victorie. of course, billie and charlotte helped george and y/n fix up the party. mr. and mrs. weasley sent a small cake for connor when they heard about y/n not knowing asingle thing about cooking.

fred offered to take care of the twins and connor while george and y/n ran off somewhere. the two found themselves near a small creek. y/n explained how the cottage was where she’d go off exploring and the only person who knew was holly. she was overjoyed when her sister got the cottage she used as a hideaway.

george was surprised when there were lights and blankets and everything. the soft sounds of running water was calming.

the two were pretty intoxicated when they sat down; stumbled onto the picnic blanket. y/n was sober enough to not spill her deepest darkest secrets. george on the other hand…

“have i ever told you how pretty you are?” george mumbled next to her. y/n only snickered and blushed.

“um, can i hold your hand?” he continued, taking a look at the girl next to him.

“sure” she winked.

“you know” he started again “i actually fancied you a bit back in school”

“yeah?” she rolled over to her side “i wonder… what did you like about me?”

“i don’t even know. my heart just felt so full with you. still does, right now, holding your hand, under the stars by a stream.” he had this glint in his eye when he looks at her.

“hey,” she brushed some hair out of his face “these past few months have been great. and you’re a huge help with connor. you know i’ll always be there for you, right?”

“yeah darling,” he yawned “yeah”

“wait, george!” she sat up “no. don’t fall asleep!”

“fuck” she groaned before falling back down on the blanket.

“i think i love you” she whispered.

—

morning rolled around and they were still lying somewhere in the forest behind the cottage. some childish chatter and laughs were heard from where they were still sleeping soundly.

until, a red ant bit y/n and george’s intertwined hands. “ah shit!” y/n woke up from the bite. her yell also woke up the sleeping man next to her “what?! what happened?” he jumped.

“oh. did i wake you up?” she asked.

“no. it’s honestly no worries” he said “but i do have a killer headache”

“an ant bit me” she muttered, wanting to scratch it.

“hey, no don’t scratch! i’ve had a lot if experience with insect bites” he explained “want me to kiss it better?” he teased.

“oh, ha-ha” she rolled her eyes but blushed.

“we should probably head back” he checked his watch while standing up.

—

“ah! there the lovebirds are!” fred exclaimed.

everyone was cleaning up from last night. there were children running around while chasing balloons and each other.

“yeah,” george started “we, um, fell asleep”

“sure ya did” this time ron teased the two.

“i’m gonna clean up here,” y/n offered “you guys should go home. you know, get some rest”

cedric gasped “y/n l/n! are you kicking us out?” he said in mock offense.

“technically, yeah. i doubt connor got any sleep”

“maybe we should,” fleur said with her accent “victorie was very excited for the party she is very worn out”

george snuck behind y/n “i think i love you too” he muttered under his breath. he wasn’t sure if she heard it. she did.

“i’ll see you later, y/n!” he yelled “come on, princesses, we’re going home. we’ll see connor and y/n later”

connor and the twins hugged while y/n said thank you’s to all the guests.

maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to ask for help.

[wandsandwheezes]

505 | G.W

WARNINGS // SMUT 18+, If you know the song, you know what’s coming. Mutual pining, kissing, a lil sadness, George being a simp, 

I wanted to celebrate me reaching 500 followers (something I legit never saw happening) by writing a fic for you all!! I went back to one of my favourite songs... it seemed pretty fitting. 

ps. please don’t post my work elsewhere, it breaks my heart!!

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

505 New Harleston St. The place where it all began, your childhood home. It had been years since George had seen you and every part of him dreaded the thought of you loving someone that wasn't him. It hadn't been easy for him to move on, when every beat of his heart was beating for you. As he turned the ignition of the car and rolled out of his driveway, the destination was set in his mind. Each road and turn was like muscle memory as he set off on the forty-five minute drive in the pouring rain to see you. He prayed you still lived with your parents and that you weren't in the arms of another man. He pictured you in your bed, back arching as you touched yourself to the thought of him. The imagery was sinful, and distracting, so distracting that he had almost veered the poor ford Anglia off the side of the road. He however couldn’t pull himself away from the soft melody that was your moans as they echoed around his brain. 

Only when he was parked outside your house, looking up at your window, which was only dimly lit, did he contemplate driving back home. But he was sure he was meant to be there, after all even if it had taken a Seven hour flight, he had to be there to see you. 

He stepped out of his car, the heavy rain drenching him from head to toe within a few moments. He checked his watch, it was nearly midnight and he hesitated once again. He then noticed the kitchen light flick on. 'it's now or never' he thought, his feet dragging him to your front door, ignoring the doorbell to knock gently on the painted wood. 

The knock on your door caused you to spin around and look at the clock, confused at who would come knocking at this time, you assumed it could only be that your cat, Ernie, had snuck into the neighbour's house again. You quickly walked towards the door, words falling from your lips before you could even process who was in front of you. "I'm so sorry, Mrs Jame- George?" 

Stop and wait a sec

Oh when you look at me like that my darling

What did you expect

The way you looked up at him with a look of pure innocence and love drove him absolutely crazy. An old oversized t-shirt was hanging against your thighs as your eyes went wide with shock. you blinked a couple of times, thinking your mind was playing tricks on you. He didn't disappear, however and something inside of you roared as you darted forward, hand sneaking up to rake your fingers through the hairs at the back of his neck as you pulled him down and into a kiss. You didn't care that his clothes were soaking wet and that the rain was gusting into the house, you had George in front of you and that was the only thought plaguing your mind. 

It was as if all the time you had spent apart had never happened, your body slotting perfectly against his as soon as he had you in his arms again. The kiss you shared was passionate and needy, before you knew it, he had you trapped between him and a wall, making out like teenagers again, your hands frantically pulling off his jacket and letting it fall to the floor. 

"Georgie.. I've missed you." Your eyes were wide, looking up at him innocently and full of passion, it was a look he was obsessed with. The nickname you used for him brought back so many old memories that he knew that he had to have you back and he would do anything in his power to call you his once more. His hands had slipped under the t-shirt to rest against your waist, the feeling of his large hands on your warm skin was familiar and intoxicating. "I couldn't stop thinking about you, my angel, I miss us."

His confession had you weak at the knees. Despite the fact that your break up was messy, the love you shared for each other had never left. Having both gone through the war with each other and gaining trauma that neither of you knew how to process, resulting in more frequent arguments, less affection, more ange and more more resentment until you both decided it was best for the both of you to part ways. Over the years, you had taken the time to heal but George however, grew insecure and lost confidence of his own worth. He didn't know how to move on in life without you by his side. 

That's why kissing him felt so natural, his lips and arms felt like home to you. It was why you were willing to risk it all and take him back. It was also why you were sure you were sure you'd let him fuck you senseless in the hall out of desperation. You were still in love with him and a part of you had truly never stopped loving him, even after all this time. 

I probably still adore you with your hands around my neck

Or I did last time I checked

You'd pulled the boy up to your room, stripping him of his damp clothes and admiring every inch of his skin, you had to pinch yourself every time because having him here felt like a dream. As you lay on your bed, your head on his chest, you listen to the in and out of his breath, letting his heartbeat remind you that he was in fact here, and not hundreds of miles away. 

He didn't try to initiate anything you didn't want to do, talking into the early hours about everything you'd done since you'd last seen each other. You confessed that you would take him back if he wanted you. George's eyes went wide at that statement, his breath hitched in his own throat. He took the opportunity to kiss you again, the soft, open mouthed kisses turning quickly to a more passionate exchange as your tongues brushed against each other. He pulled you on top of him so that you were straddling his hips, his hands guiding your own to gently rock back and forth against his. 

You were grinding against him, feeling the desperation for him grow inside you as you were reminded of the mind blowing sex life you used to have, you adored him even as he was fucking you relentlessly, hand wrapped around your neck. You missed being touched the way he touched you. You picked up the pace, causing a string of moans to fall from your lips, it was enough for him to buck his own hips up to meet yours. As if he could hear your thoughts, a hand moved up to grasp at your neck, a smirk plastered across his lips. "Always knew you liked that, Princess."

The string of moans that fell from your lips were pure filth but nevertheless, music to his ears. You were adults, pining over one another, in a situation not too dissimilar from one you had with him as teenagers, sneaking away from your group of friends and up to the dorms. Coincidentally, it was the same day he'd told you he loved you. 

Your mind was flicking back and forth to the present and the past as George's hands trailed gently up your sides. The look in his eyes was pure lust as he pulled you in for another kiss. His kisses were intoxicating, and you couldn't stop yourself from going in for another, and another, and another. 

"We don't have to do this, not if you're not-" You cut him off with a simple kiss, before pressing your lips to his neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to his collarbone, slipping between his legs with a content sigh. "I want this George, I want you." 

You had started by palming him through his boxers, watching as his head fell back into the pillow. There was no rush, just gentle, meaningful movements. When you finally pulled his cock from his underwear, his heart sped up, you rested your cheek against his thigh as you stroked him, his hand smoothing over your hair as warm moans fell from his lips. You looked up at him through your lashes, as amazing as George's more dominant side was, to see him completely at your will as his cock was in your hand made you feel so powerful. Your hand was perfect, small enough that when you wrapped your hand fully around, the squeeze was enough for him to feel like he was in heaven, not to mention the way you looked at him. You truly were his angel. 

He had flipped you over before you could even take him in your mouth, he was gentle as he pulled your shirt over your head, kissing every part of skin he could. This moment with you was everything he was waiting for, to be with you, intimate and in love. He slipped your underwear to the side before pushing into you. It felt like everything you could've needed in that moment, he didn't make it rough or push you. He simply made love to you as the sun rose, mumbling words of pure praise against your lips. "You're doing so well, Princess, taking me so, so good."

His fingers found your clit, rubbing circles with his middle and pointer finger as he brought you close to your release. His hair was hanging messily as his hips rocked into yours. "That's it baby, cum for me, such a good girl."

When you came over him, your mind went blank except for the thought of him. It was perfect, he was perfect, he was repeating over and over that he loved you. Godric, did you love him too. 

Not shy of a spark

A knife twists at the thought that I should fall short of the mark

You and George had been back together a whole month before he offered for you to move in with him. You’d be lying if you said that you hadn’t hesitated when he asked. You were worried that perhaps since getting back together things were moving too fast again, but as soon as he’d shown you his beautiful home, all worries seemed to fade. When George bought the house, he imagined what life would be like with you sharing his home - your home together. Everywhere he looked, he imagined what your future children would be doing as they ran around the halls. Everything he seemed to do was with you in mind.

It was one particular evening where you’d come back to your now shared home to find George sat alone on the sofa, all of the lights still turned off. He hadn’t even noticed you enter, he was silently sobbing as tears rolled down his cheeks. Thoughts swimming in his head of not being good enough for you, that he fell short of being everything you needed. He didn’t know how to process these feelings, he hadn’t learned how to cope with the negative thoughts, let alone how to tell himself that they were all bullshit. 

You noticed the tears glistening off his cheeks, lit only by the lamppost outside, quite literally dropping everything, not caring where it fell. You pulled the crying boy into your arms, his head resting against your chest, the salty tears transferring to your t-shirt. Once he had come to his senses, no longer lost in his own bubble, the bubble in his throat prevented him from speaking, hardly able to string a sentence together. You did your best to console him, but the pain in his chest felt like someone had stabbed him in the chest and continued to turn the knife. 

“I-  I know don’t fucking deserve you.” He was babbling over his words as you rocked him, playing with the hair that he had grown out especially for you, pushing the strands out of his eyes and off his forehead. George only managed to calm down by the grace of your soothing hum and gentle kisses into his hair. He still felt the pang of sadness that didn’t want to shift, as a shallow breath rattled around his lungs. “You are enough for me George, I love you and I’ll always love you.”

But I crumble completely when you cry

It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye

You were sitting together on the sofa, your head on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined as you watched a movie, something you’d insisted on bringing into your home together.  You had been feeling overly emotional In the past week, breaking down into tears over nothing. Just yesterday the sight of orange peel made you tear up. You’d told Fred about it today and he simply laughed at the notion that George had ‘made the orange naked’. While Fred found it hilarious, George hated the sight of you crying. Crumbling completely into a mess to care for you at the very sight of a tear. 

Fred and Lee often joked over dinner that George was ‘whipped’. He shrugged off the taunts, retorting back that at least he had a girlfriend. To which the other two boys imitated, un-phased by the younger twin’s attempt at seeming menacing. Lee told you about how they used to call him ‘Whipped Georgie’ back at Hogwarts, a nickname you knew you had heard too often in the quidditch changing rooms. You marvelled at how it was nice to have them all back, but really the group was incomplete without Alicia and Angelina here, you note that you must have them over for dinner soon, or at least another girl’s night.  

More recently, however, you and George had been like passing ships in the night, It was kicking into the busiest time of year at the shop and he more often than not crawled into bed with you in the early hours of the morning, only for you to kiss his forehead goodbye as you left for work only a few hours later. The mornings didn’t get any easier, leaving his warm arms another day, to return to him not being there. You feared he would slip away again, a heavy feeling sitting in your stomach as you wake for your day, to see your boyfriend only just slip through the door. You had greeted him once again with a goodbye, your eyes hanging on to his for a pleading moment, as you considered never leaving his hold again. 

I'm always just about to go and spoil a surprise

Take my hands off of your eyes too soon

George had strolled into the shop, ready for the afternoon and evening rush, his eyes deep set and tired. It was back to sleepless nights for him. Fred noticed the exhaustion in his brother’s eyes, making a quick decision to send him home. They had only just yesterday had the conversation that George had seen almost so little of you that it didn’t even feel like you were together. That feeling broke his heart. 

There were so many thoughts running through his head as he walked home. The usual quick walk was slowed way down as he pondered on every running and passing thought. He was a man filled with worry, what if you had stopped loving him? He couldn’t lose you twice.

He arrived home to you, his precious girl, sat on the bed sobbing, looking down at something in your hands. His whole body ached, seeing the tears physically fall, when you smiled up at him his heart softened, perhaps it wasn’t as bad as he thought. He caught a glimpse of the small blue box in your hands and his eyes widened. George Weasley was always shit at keeping secrets. 

His mind told him ‘fuck it’ as he got down on one knee next to you as you were sat on the bed. A thousand ways of saying what he wanted swirled around his brain, he wanted to say the right words and make it a special moment for you. Every moment you had shared together flew past his eyes, it was like watching a star go supernova. Every bright smile and giggle, every kiss and longing look. It was the perfect movie shared between the two of you. 

“I think you already know what I’m about to say, and based on the fact that you’re still crying I hope this isn’t a bad time. But Merlin, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want you. I want you to be mine forever. I’m sorry that I still haven’t healed and I’m sorry that I wasn’t there when you needed me the most. My life is you and if I don’t have you, it’s thunderous and wet and lonely. So, my sunshine, will you marry me?

I'm going back to 505

If it's a 7 hour flight or a 45 minute drive

In my imagination you're waiting lying on your side

With your hands between your thighs

...and a smile

The red-haired boy was sitting at his desk, a dim lamp emitting only the faintest glow. Once again his mind was on the thought of you. The thought of you waiting for him at home, His gorgeous wife, her fingers desperately trying to find a release at the thought of him.  He contemplated running home, in a full jog, just to devour you. He flicked back to the day he travelled to 505, how he was so desperate to see you, that he would’ve climbed every mountain just to kiss your perfect lips and see your perfect smile.

George realised that It was never 505 New Harleston St. that kept pulling him back. It was you. You were 505. 

@starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half  @wand3ringr0s3​ @vogueweasley​ @loony-loopy-lupinn​

[1kook]

commercial break; SEVEN

this is part of my netflix & chill series ! happens a few months before part 7 

summary; And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare. It’s a perfect plan.  warnings; horny jk, jk wants to roleplay... everyone point n laugh, mentions of his impreg kink lol, making out, tits, honestly jk is just very horny n in love lol, jk in a vampire costume w fangs O_o rating; mature (18+) wc; 2k

notes; if u don’t know who lindsay is first of all ur sick, second of all here’s my queen’s top moments. also i just gotta say, this was originally gonna be a larger fic (a halloween special) for my ncouple, but i got a lil busy with school n ultimately didn't have time to invest in this as a whole installment so..... enjoy this commercial break instead!!

Jungkook loves Halloween.

He loves the pumpkin carving and the decorating. Loves the spooky music and the abundance of candy. He loves it, absolutely adores it, and for the second year in a row, he gets to spend it with you! Yet another person he loves very much.

He doesn’t remember ever being this excited for Halloween. Last year, you had roped him into going to some frat party with him, had egged him on, begged so cutely that it was your last year in college, baby until he caved. The two of you had spent the night drinking until you blacked out, Ubering home with your costumes half on, and then unceremoniously fucking in his living room with the blinds wide open.

(The next neighborhood meeting had been very awkward for Jungkook.)

It was his first time ever drinking with you like that, and he vaguely remembers, through his own drunken gaze, how cool you had been. Had absolutely owned a bunch of greasy football players at beer pong in your little sexy nurse costume. And when the crowd cheered your name, shrieked in awe, it had been him that you turned to for praise. “Did you see me, baby,” you had giggled, crowded him against the wall of this random house until Jungkook was sweating profusely. In lieu of a costume, he had worn a silly jogger set with a skeleton design that was supposed to glow in the dark, according to Amazon. You had told him he looked adorable, had kissed and squeezed his cheeks until Jungkook was a flustered mess.

It was still early into your relationship— if Jungkook did the math, you were only about five months in at that point —so he didn’t know how else to cope with the rapid thundering of his heart, the confession sitting on his tongue, the then scary L-word begging to be heard. So, he took you home and fucked you until your little nurse cap slid off your head and you were begging for him to let you cum, thus earning him his first ever offense for violating the neighborhood rules (i.e., traumatizing a group of middle schoolers by fucking in plain sight).

Long story short, Jungkook loves Halloween, and he loves it even more when he gets to spend it with you.

(He’ll never admit it, but he’s a hard romantic. He wants to do cheesy things with you, like cuddle you into his arms when you get scared, pat your head until you can look at whatever is happening on screen again. He wants you to feel safe in his arms, wants to be your refuge when things become too much. He likes to think he’s done a pretty good job so far.)

Jungkook’s plan goes like this:

First, welcome you with that Halloween basket you’ve been sending him tweet links about all month. The cute little Jack-O-lantern candy bucket stuffed with candy and hair ties and a soft Halloween themed blanket. It’s so cheesy, makes him blush when he catches sight of it in his closet, but Jungkook will do anything to please you.

Next, after presenting you with your Halloween gift and having you coo and tell him he’s a good boy, he’ll invite you to break your new soft blanket in. The living room will be prepared with an assortment of your favorite foods, the flat screen ready to play whatever horror movie the two of you settle on.

And lastly, Jungkook will bring it full circle by indulging you two in some good old fashion spooky sex where he nuts inside you because the only thing scarier than a scary movie is a pregnancy scare.

It’s a perfect plan.

It’s the best way to spend his favorite holiday, with his favorite girl by his side and some of his favorite horror films on the big screen. Jungkook spends all of October geeked up for it, even considers hanging up lights around the living room to really set the mood. He’s so excited, can’t wait to spend another wonderful holiday at home with you, that he doesn’t fully realize why you haven’t brought up the long awaited topic of costumes.

“You like?” you ask, standing at the door of his bathroom with a sultry look in your eye, tits practically pouring out of the tight top you’ve wiggled into, skin oiled up scandalously. He fumbles with the fake vampire fang prosthetics he’d been trying to glue in for the better half of an hour.

He had heard the door open downstairs when you got here, had called out his mandatory greeting as he heard you come up the stairs. But none of that had prepared him for the sight of you in… whatever this was.

Jungkook doesn’t really understand exactly what you’re supposed to be dressed up as until the two of you are back downstairs—blinds drawn, full moon slipping in through the cracks—with some random horror movie pulled up on the TV. “I’m Lindsey,” you whine, brand new fluffy blanket wrapped around your shoulders. It shields your boobs from view, but he’s not sure if that’s a win or a loss. “From Total Drama Island!”

He settles in beside you, doesn’t get too comfortable because it’s nearing sundown now and he knows the herds of children are bound to start flowing in. “Uh huh,” he says mindlessly. His collar feels itchy, the overly-detailed vampire costume he meticulously scoured the internet for being one size too small. You snuggle into his side anyway.

“You don’t know anything about cinematic masterpieces,” you frown, avidly tuned into The Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning, because apparently you love horror movies all of a sudden, a fact that genuinely throws Jungkook off. He’s not sure what it is about you that had deluded him into thinking you would be a scaredy cat, but he doesn’t take the new bit of information too hard.

The doorbell rings right as the first gorey scene ends and you make a big show of huffing and whining as he rushes to answer it. But it’s only the beginning of the long night that awaits, and, as Jungkook comes to find, running back and forth from the door to the couch is harder than it seems.

Anyway, Jungkook’s neighborhood is a little posh, or ‘bougie’ as you like to claim, and trick-or-treating hours end a little before eleven pm. By then he’s tired, having refused your offer to switch places in fear that your boob might fall out of that scrap of fabric you call a top and earn him his second neighborly offense.

However, that doesn’t mean he’s opposed to your boobs falling out in private.

“Stupid,” you giggle when he gets caught in his long cape, the sound slowly melting into a whimper as he slips his hands beneath your top, fighting with the ridiculous push-up bra you’ve donned tonight. Hands tangle in his hair, mess up the careful side part he’d styled up for tonight, and legs lock around his waist. “Your curtains closed?” you tease.

He huffs, catches your chatty lips with his roughly, presses and presses until your mouth must bruise. He belatedly remembers about those sharp fangs he’d glued on—hey, if he was going to dress up as some gaudy monster it might as well be realistic—and doesn’t realize until he tries to bite your neck and you let out a little yelp. Truthfully, he feels bad right away, but then you’re practically dissolving in his arms so he plays along. “Shh,” he hisses.

The roar of a chainsaw and terrified screams fill the living room, almost drowning out the soft sounds you release by his ear. “O- Or what?” you pant, flinch when he pushes your sad excuse of a skirt up over your waist. “Gonna b- bite me?”

And so Jungkook does.

You shriek. “That hurts, you idiot!” you scold with a tiny whine in your voice, but Jungkook’s cock is so hard. Your tiny, tight outfit does you no favors. Tits in his face, tiny thong against his bulge. He wants to make you sob, litter bites and marks all over your skin until his love makes you ache. You must see the crazed look in his eyes, because you drop the scowl. “Hey,” you say slowly, hand on his chest. “You look like you’re gonna eat me.”

He lets go of a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. He wonders if you can feel his thundering heart beneath your palm. “Fuck,” he sighs, leaning away to regain his senses. Was it something in the air? Was it the fatigue? The full moon? Why did he want to fold you in half and fuck his cock into you until you were a crying, shivering mess? Something about you tonight, laid out for him to take, makes him feel absolutely insane. Starved and psycho; he just wants to take and take until you don’t have anything more to give. He purses his lips, tries to ignore the hot feeling in his lower abdomen when your hardened nipples register to his eyes. “I think I’m becoming evil.”

Of all the idiotic things his brain can come up with, this one is definitely top five. His cheeks flush right after, fueled by the boisterous laughter that escapes your lips at his statement. “Oh my god,” you gasp in glee, hands falling down beside your head. “You’re becoming evil?’

Jungkook frowns, flopping down on top of you to hide the embarrassment that paints his face. “Shut up,” he mumbles against your neck, warm and safe.

A hand cards through the back of his hair, nails dig lightly into his scalp. “Aren’t you the cutest little vampire,” you coo, seemingly ignoring the rock hard cock Jungkook presses against your thigh. He’s still so horny, has this sick thought that he could just pin you down right here, tear that silly costume to shreds and swallow you up in his lust. But your voice is so sweet, has his eyes fluttering shut as you gather him in his arms. “Silly vampire,” you hum, one leg thrown around his hip, a subtle roll of you hips up into him.

Jungkook huffs, licks a flat strip along the base of your neck. It draws a shaky exhale from you, has your hands digging into his back when he begins to slowly lap against the skin, nibble and tug until your back is deliciously arching up into him. “Wanna push you down,” he confesses quietly, hands securing themselves against your hips as he leans back. You're all dazed, eyes trained on his fanged mouth when he hesitantly adds, “l- little human.”

You could laugh, tease him for his sudden weird need to role play with you, but you don’t. A look of understanding crosses your face, sly smirk slowly following. “Oh?” you grin, hand coming around to cup his cheek. “The little vampire wants to use my body?” Jungkook tightens his jaw at your jab, but nods nonetheless.

You’re a feast before his eyes. Boobs in his face, pussy begging to be filled. You’re his, just like Jungkook is yours. And when you indulge him and his stupid whims—kinks, he should say, occasional interests that sometimes make him question himself—his heart feels warm and full. Proud and unashamed, like the truest version of himself when you look at him with those eyes. And your words only confirm it.

Your hands reach down for your top, pull the flimsy material over your head in one swoop that has your bra coming off with it. It drops to the floor. If it makes a sound, Jungkook doesn’t hear it over the shrieks of terror on screen. the blood deaths, the suspenseful music. All he hears is he hammering of his heart. 

It’s two of your sneaky fingers that come up to play, pinch one nipple tenderly as you meet his eyes. “It’s all yours,” you purr. “I’m all yours.”

And the thirst he feels, well. It’s a little vampiric, to say the least. 

—

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[the-bau-quinjet]

Both of You

Tony x Reader based on this request!

Warnings: mention of nightmares

Word Count: 1803

a/n: This one makes me feel warm inside. We're just pretending Pepper does not exist because any mention of killing her off is too sad for me to deal with right now. Tony deserves happiness. Featuring The Best Day by Taylor Swift.

Also, I'm currently working on a Reid request, two Steve fics, and an idea I had for Bucky, but somehow this one was the one that got me motivated.

Masterlist

You were relaxing, aka being forced to recover from a gunshot wound before going on any more missions, on the couch in the living room for the third night in a row. To say you were absolutely bored would be underselling it.

You spent the past few days alone roaming the compound because everyone else was out on missions. Typically this would mean hanging out with Morgan, but Happy's been monopolizing her time.

You were just about to start another movie when your phone started ringing.

"Where are you?" The voice was desperate.

"Nice to hear from you Happy. How are you, today?" You sassed him back.

"Y/N, I'm serious." His tone put you on high alert.

"I'm in the main living room, what happened?" You sat up from the couch, ready to come to him at a moments notice.

"I'm in the elevator, I'll explain in a minute." He hung up before you could ask any follow up questions.

You were up and standing at the elevator in no time, anxiously awaiting Happy's arrival.

After what felt like an eternity, he emerged from the elevator carrying a sleeping Morgan in his arms. He walked past you to set her on the couch before explaining.

"May had a bit of an emergency, I need to go pick her up. She's fine, just a little shaken up. Can you watch Morgan?" You could see the lingering fear in his eyes.

"Of course. Please, let me know if there's anything else I can do!" You spoke in a fast whisper, getting the words out quickly but quietly to account for Happy already boarding the elevator and Morgan still asleep in the living room.

"I'll call you if anything else happens."

And with that he was gone.

You made your way back into the living room while trying to decide if you should bring Morgan back up to her bed. She would sleep better there, but you might wake her up on the way.

You were just about to pick her up when she let out a strangled sob.

"Morgan?" She still appeared to be asleep, but her face showed fear. "Morgan, honey, wake up."

You spoke gently while running a hand soothingly through her hair. Despite your best efforts, she woke with a start. Her little fingers balled into fists, tears pooling in her eyes before you could say anything.

"Morgan, it's okay! You're okay. I'm here." You gathered her in your arms to rock her back and forth. "You're okay. Everything's okay."

You continued rocking her back and forth while whispering words of affirmation until her crying stopped.

"I- I want my- my dad." She hiccuped.

"Oh sweetheart, he's not home right now." It broke your heart to disappoint her. "Do you wanna tell me when you dreamed about?"

She nodded slowly, but clung to your arms.

"I had a bad dream." You could tell she was till scared. "There was a monster and he took Peter away!" She was getting worked up again.

"Peter's fine, baby. Do you want me to call him?" You spoke softly while reaching into your pocket for your phone.

She nodded solemnly. "With video, please."

"Of course, honey."

It didn't take long for you to facetime Peter. You could only hope that he would answer on the first try. While it rung, you angled the phone against a candle on the table to include you and Morgan in the frame.

"Hi Ms. Y/N- oh! Hi Morgan!" Peter's cheerful voice rung through the living room.

"Hi Pete!" Morgan's voice matched Peter's cheerfulness, but you could still tell she was shaken up.

"See, baby. Peter's okay." You gently prodded her mind to accept that the dream was just that, a dream.

"Petey, I'm so glad you're okay! I was so scared." She ignored your comment, but you could tell the call was helping her.

"Oh Morgan, did you have another nightmare? I'm sorry! You can always call me whenever you need to. I promise." He did well to cheer up the young girl.

You sat back against the couch, just listening to Morgan and Peter conversing for the next hour or so.

"Alright, I think we've got to try to go back to bed now. Say goodbye to Peter."

Morgan pouted, but didn't put up much of a fight.

"Bye Petey! I love you!" She called happily, the nightmare all but forgotten.

"Bye Morgan, I love you too. Bye, Ms. Y/N!" Peter called out.

"Bye, Peter." You smiled as you hung up the phone. "Let's get you up to bed."

"Nooo!" She whined. "Can I just lay down here with you?"

You knew you were a goner the minute she started pouting. With a sigh, you easily gave in to her demands. "Yes, but you still have to sleep."

"Yay! Can you sing to me?" She laid down on the couch, putting her head in your lap.

"Sure, sweetheart. What song?" You began running your hand over her hair in an attempt to calm her down.

"The one about being 5 and having a good day!"

You let out a small chuckle at her description, but you knew the song she meant.

"I'm five years old, it's getting cold. I've got my big coat on. I hear your laugh and look up smiling at you, and run and run."

As soon as you started singing, she closed her eyes and stopped moving around. You didn't really believe her, but she's always said your voice makes her feel calm inside.

"Past the pumpkin patch and the tractor rides, look now, the sky is gold. I hug your legs and fall asleep on the way home."

You were so intently focused on Morgan, that you didn't hear the elevator doors opening and closing just down the hall.

*In the elevator*

"Someone's singing?" Steve phrased it as a question, but he knew he could hear it as the elevator moved up a few floors.

"Who?" Tony, although uninterested, asked.

"I hear it too!" Bucky chimed in, feeling weirdly at peace just from hearing the melody.

Everyone else in the elevator strained their ears to hear the voice, but came up empty until the elevator doors opened.

Slowly, Tony, Steve, Bucky, Nat, Sam, and Wanda piled out of the elevator.

"I don't know why all the trees change in the fall, but I know you're not scared of anything at all."

"Y/N..." Tony whispered, so as not to disturb you.

"Why would she be singing?" Wanda questioned. You always refuse to sing karaoke with them, so it doesn't make sense to her that you would be singing to yourself in the middle of the compound.

Suddenly, a much younger voice joined in on the song.

"Don't know if Snow White's house is near or far away, but I know I had the best day with you today."

"Hey, missy. You promised me you'd try to sleep. That means no singing, just listening." Tony felt his smile grow as you playfully scolded his daughter.

"Sorry! Sorry, I'll be quiet." Morgan promised.

The group of Avengers listened as you began singing again. They slowly made their way toward the living room, moving silently so you wouldn't hear them and stop singing.

"There is a video I found from back when I was three. You set up a paint set in the kitchen and you're talking to me."

Tony was just far enough past the doorway to peak over the edge of the couch. The sight of Morgan curled up in your lap made his heart flutter.

"It's the age of princesses and pirate ships and the seven dwarfs. And Daddy's smart and you're the prettiest lady in the whole wide world."

The entire group of Earth's mightiest heroes wore matching expressions of complete and utter adoration watching you sing to Morgan.

Tony silently gestured for the rest of the group to leave, ultimately staring them down until they did so. He watched as you sang the rest of the song, stroking her hair until she fell into a restful sleep.

"I didn't know if you knew, so I'm taking this chance to say: that I had the best day with you today."

You hummed a bit to ensure Morgan was asleep before you stopped singing entirely.

Tony realized you were going to pick her up, so he softly cleared his throat to gain your attention as he walked around the couch.

The soft smile on his face warmed your heart.

"Hi Tony." You greeted him as he picked up his daughter. "She'll be glad you're home." You decided to leave out the heartbreaking detail of her tears and broken cries for her father.

"Where's Happy?" He questioned lightly.

"C'mon, I'll tell you on the way." You grabbed Morgan's stuffed Iron Man from the couch and started toward the elevator.

"Happy had to go pick up May. He said she was fine, but it was some sort of emergency." You spoke quietly so as not to disturb Morgan.

"Thank you for watching her." Tony couldn't hide the smile that grew on his face at the thought of you and Morgan being so close. "Even if you kept her up way past her bedtime." He added playfully.

"She was actually asleep when Happy brought her down. He was probably going to take her with him if he couldn't find me." You felt yourself start to smile just from looking at Morgan in Tony's arms.

"What happened?" Your smile fell at the memory of Morgan's tear stained face.

"She had a nightmare. Something about a monster hurting Peter." You couldn't stop your eyes from welling up at the memory of how scared and upset Morgan was. "She's okay now though. We talked to Peter for a while on facetime. Well, Morgan talked to Peter. I just rocked her back and forth so she'd stop crying."

"My poor baby." He pressed a kiss to Morgan's forehead, lingering close to her. "Thank you for helping her with that."

"Of course, Tony. She's a brilliant little girl. You're doing a great job raising her."

You let out a small chuckle when you suddenly realized neither of you pushed the button for the residential floor.

Tony laughed as well when you leaned forward to push the button.

You walked with him to Morgan's room, helping to tuck her and her stuffed toy into bed. Just as you gently closed the door, Tony cleared his throat again.

"Y/N, I really mean it. Thank you for being there for her. It means a lot to me." Tony's face show a rare vulnerable side as he spoke. "You mean a lot to me."

"Oh, Tony. You mean a lot to me too." You glanced back at Morgan's bedroom. "Both of you."

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