#then mum was talking today about how i wasn’t into messy play at all as a kid

[vigilantejustice]

sometimes i think there’s definitely something like. diagnosably wrong with my personality + the more i examine my childhood the more i’m convinced there’s an explanation.

got gifted a guidebook for the sims that had a SUPER detailed multi-generational tutorial playthrough which was just a cool way to highlight all the fun new mechanics of the game but kid me followed this tutorial with complete unwavering rigidity every time and felt like i was somehow playing the sims (a game with literally no rules) wrong or that it didn’t count if i didn’t follow the guide letter for letter what kind of...

[deepdonutkid]

Kismet

Requested: No

Paring: Shelby!Sister Reader x Isaiah

Words: 5624

Summary: For a year now, you had a secret relationship with Isaiah and even when he is still in the same room with you, you can’t stop feeling lonely. It’s not that you don’t love him anymore, it more about the weight of the secret you have to carry. But with Tommy as you big brother you can’t risk, telling the truth or your man might get shot.

Note:

I was in the mood for a Shelby!Sister reader x Isaiah and it turned out to be way longer than I expected it... and I even cut out dialog... So here it is!

It’s also flavored with Junior Peaky Boys fun at the beginning. And I was inspired by my homegirl’s one shot called star and my story is an addition to hers, it’s the same night, but Bonnie has some other adventures than the reader and Isaiah.

Somehow I feel like everybody is a little ooc, but I couldn’t correct it.

Requests and tag list are still open, feel free to dm me or send me an ask.

tagging: @bonniesgoldengirl​ @justalonelyslytherin​ @theshelbyclan​ 

Warning: swear words, drinking, binge drinking, gambling, a hinted smut and a sweet ending

It was one of those nights, nothing special, just the usual fellows around the same table in the Garrison.  You had fun nevertheless. All your friends were right there, you had enough to drink and you had a luck hand today. The cards seemed to work in your fortune.

Deviously smiling you revealed your hand. You just had won this round and it gave you unholy amounts of satisfactions. “Ha”, you cheered: “Suck it up.”

Your friend shrugged and shoved his coins in your direction. All he said was a very grumpy “There you go”, but it pleased you.

You took the money and peaked around the corner. Where was Michael with the drinks? He was like a brother to you, but he was just your cousin. Maybe it was because you were born just two months before his older sister, Anna. Even though, she was gone Michael came back to his real family and now you were closer than ever. You cared for him, more than your siblings did.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t hit him, if he just left the bar to fuck with some random girl. It was not about him having sex, more about leaving without telling anybody. Especially when he was supposed to get drinks for the table. You moaned and said: “Where is Michael?”

“Probably doing somebody”, Isaiah joked and lit a cigarette. Then he offered you one and you took it gladly. Actually, you bit your lip and gave him the side-eye, but you had to hide your smile in front of the others. Bonnie and Finny weren’t the smartest boys in Small Heath, but you wouldn’t risk it.

You had so much fun with Isaiah that you didn’t even know when it started. Months passed by, while you were completely caught up in your little game with him. Nobody knew it. That was mainly Isaiah’s fault. At first it amused you to keep your relationship with him secret, but now you were ready to tell your family about it. Your boyfriend didn’t like the idea.

Somehow you thought Michael started to notice. He gave you the glace, which said: “I know, dear”, but maybe you were just getting crazy. You just had to be more careful around others now and everything was fine.

The night was still young and you were keen to make Bonnie lose all his money today. He had won the boxing match earlier and the bruises were still visible, but unfortunately for him, he couldn’t win against you. It was just a card game, but it filled you with gleeful joy. This and the fact that Isaiah was sitting next to you. Sometimes he would brush your thigh with his fingers, which made you giggle even more.

“There he is”, yelled Finny while being so fucking drunk, like you never had seen him before. Michael arrived with messy hair and his tie was undone, but he had your drink and that was all that you care for. “Finally”, you fluted and ripped the glass of his hand: “Thank you, babe.”

And the whiskey was still cold, which meant he fucked the girl first and ordered the drinks afterwards. “How was she? Good?” you asked before you took a sip from your whiskey. You weren’t a lightweight when it came to drinking, maybe not as well as Arthur and John, but you could tolerate much more than Ada and Finny. Your little brother was so drunk, he looked like his head was all empty and yet filled with bullshit.

Michael sat down next to you and answered: “Mhh, she was okay, but she talked too much.” Then you felt the weight of a hand on your thigh again. A shiver rushed down your spine, but it was the wrong side. Your cousin had put his hand on your knee. “Everything alright, Y/N?”

You nodded. “Yeah, everything is perfect”, you blabbered hoping he wouldn’t keep asking questions, but he did. “Don’t be so worried, every time I’m with a girl. I know you’re still a virgin, but you can get some too. Tommy wouldn’t be against it.”

How wonderfully wrong he was. Neither were you a virgin nor would Tommy be okay with this. After all, you were his little sister and he wouldn’t accept the guy, you were sleeping with. Of course, Isaiah was a friend of the family, but after the whole thing with Ada and Freddie you had something to worry about.

The best snarky comeback was right on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t say it without letting something slip. ‘What gives you the idea I’m still a virgin?’ And yet you were silent as the guy who fucked you, sat right next to you. You felt trapped and decided to go straight forward. “Yes, he would. You know it and everybody in Small Heath knows it.”

“Oh whatever”, Michael mumbled: “Just drink enough and you eventually forget about it.”

You grinned and emptied your drink. “Fuck it, let’s play some cards. I’m not done with Mr. Gold over here.”  Then you took the cards and dealt them to start the next round.

Much later that night when you brought Finn back home and went straight back to the pub, in front of the entrance, you stumbled into Bonnie. “Is there a reason why you’re smirking?” you asked him. He was gleaming red and smiling like an idiot.

Then you remembered. “The singer, right?” Bonnie nodded and his grin got even wider. “You talked to her?” Again he gave you a silent answer. You grabbed his arm and pulled him back inside. He was a lot heavier than you thought, but then again, you were just a girl and he was a boxer.

Sometime it was weird to only have male friends, it just happened. Maybe it was because of your brothers. Maybe that’s why you never acted like a proper girl. Of course you felt like a woman and you liked your body, but in your eyes it was so much easier to talk to guys.

“Eyy, where did you found him?” Michael slurred and helped you to put your friend on a chair again. With your hands finally free you had the chance to explain. “Found him outside. I don’t know what he did there, but he talked to the singer.”

Both, Isiah and Michael nodded. It was only logical for Bonnie to freak out after it talking to her. He was there every Friday night looking for the singer and now his brain seemed to melt, just because she said something to him. But neither of you knew, what she said exactly. Maybe this was a problem for another night. It didn’t look like Bonnie was able to answer.

So you ordered some more drinks and sat back down again. In this separate room, which was reserved for your family, it was almost too tempting to get close to your boyfriend again. Isiah looked so good that night and it hurt to be unable to touch him… or to kiss him. But you would be satisfied with just holding his hand now.

It was a curse; you knew it soon after you realized that you loved him. He was handsome, charming and a loyal friend. There was no better man for you, even though you wished you could be together in public. And again you bit your lip and moved your chair away from him.

But you couldn’t think about this anymore, it was too frustrating and luckily somebody else caught your attention. It was Bonnie who mumbled very quietly: “I think she kissed me, but it could be a dream as well. It felt so surreal.”  You padded his shoulder and nodded to underline your compassion.

It was just the same with Isaiah. Whenever you two were alone, it was amazing and beautiful. He was so soft and romantic and he just made you happy. But every time you woke up and he was gone, the sweet scenery shattered. And out in public it was getting annoying to find excuses to be with him or getting away, so you could spend some time alone with him and you had to lie to your whole family about your whereabouts. Slowly it became exhausting.

There was nothing you could do about it, so you just drank your whiskey and talked with the boys about Bonnie’s singer and the girl Michael had. It was so easy for them to display their relationship in the public, but of course you didn’t have this privilege as a girl. Apparently, you needed to be protected. Or so it has been explained to you. You wasn’t concerned for your safety but for your freedom. Tommy said it was his job as your big brother to care for you, even if it felt like he was controlling you. You have always been the wild one among your siblings and everything was fine, until your mum died and your dad left. Then Tommy was in charge and sometimes his opinions would vary from yours, which led to fights. And yet you feared what he might do, if he found out about your secret.

All the sudden Bonnie fell from his chair and you groaned. Now somebody had to bring him home as well. First Finn and now him… but why they couldn’t take the whiskey today? You weren’t nearly as drunk as them, but still.

Isaiah stood up and picked his friend up. “I’m taking him home. I’ll be right back”, he said, before leaving.

Now Michael and you were alone. It wasn’t what you wanted. The only thing you could think of was smooching the sweet lips of your boyfriend. You were caught up in your little fantasy, when your cousin woke you up again. “Isaiah is acting weird lately.”

“Oh… really? I didn’t notice”, you replied: “He seemed normal to me.” Your hand grabbed the fringe of your dress. Talking about him made you nervous.

Michael moaned and fumbled for his cigarettes. He put them out, you took one and he turned his between his fingers, when he added: “I don’t know, maybe I’m getting paranoid, but I think he is hiding something from us.” Then he lit his cigarette and took a drag from it.

You inhaled sharply and stared into the void for a second, before answering: “Don’t be silly, he is just as loyal as ever.” Then you laughed and Michael joined in. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I just needed to get this off my chest.”

The rest of the conversation went just like usual. You chatted, you bickered and you had fun. While the bell already announced the new day, Isaiah came back.

In this tiny glimpse of a moment you couldn’t hide your smile and he reciprocated. Actually, you were just waiting for Michael to leave now. It was your plan all along, but patience has never been your strong suit.

It took three more rounds for Michael to say goodnight. “Take care of her, will you?” Isaiah nodded. When Michael finally grabbed his jacket and headed to the door, you felt unbelievably excited. Your fingertips slapped a melody on the table, while you watched him leaving. The door shut and now you had what you longed for all night.

You turned around and looked at him. Gosh, waiting felt like an eternity. Now you were the one smiling like an idiot. Slowly Isaiah came closer and his hand pulled you to him for a kiss. “Finally”, you whispered against his lips, before giving him what he wanted.

After you two parted you rested your head on his shoulder. Now you were getting tired as well, but you didn’t want to go to your bed. “I was waiting the whole evening for this”, he moaned and stroked your hair.

The smell of his perfume made you realized how much you missed him too, even though he was with you since you went to Garrison tonight. You moved closer to him and wrapped your arms around him to give him a tight squeeze. Then you signed: “I wish we didn’t have to hide” and buried your face in his shirt.

“Babe”, he replied: “We already had this conversation. It wouldn’t end well. Let’s just enjoy what we have as long as we can.” It hurt, but Isaiah was right. There was no chance Tommy was getting you off the hook, once he knew about it. And no matter how you explained it to him, he would still be against it. You were too young for stuff like that, as if he didn’t fucked Greta, when he was the same age.

You leaned back to see his beautiful face again. There was something in his eyes, a twinkle or something like that, but it always made you feel comfortable. A lick of your lip was enough to purpose the idea of doing something nasty. He knew you since you were children and it was like he could read your thoughts, especially the dirty ones.

Isaiah started giggling and asked: “Hey, babe, I still can cheer you up, right?”

Maybe it was time for some fun, different to the fun you had before with your friends. The word pleasure would describe it well and with his knowing look he gave you so many ideas. You laughed and nodded. “I think it might help when you do the thing with your tongue.”

“Oh”, he responded amused: “Like this?” And then grabbed you for a kiss and god, what a kiss it was. His tongue brushed your upper lip just to enter your mouth and explore it as if it was your first kiss. He even bit your lip playfully and kept going until you couldn’t breathe no more. Your knees started shaking and it was needless to say, he was the best kisser you ever had.

It took you a while to catch a breath again, but then you answered: “Yeah, just like this… But maybe we could go to your place and do a little more?”

He didn’t seem to be so sure about this suggestion. His thumb stroked your shoulder as he held you in his arm. Because he was so quiet for a second, you knew, he thought about this backwards and forwards. “But right when the sun comes up, you have to go back home”, he argued.

Again, Isaiah was right. You should take too many risks. Otherwise you might get caught and neither of you wanted that. All you could do was to shrug and agree: “Just don’t shoo me after we fucked.” There was bitterness in your voice. What wouldn’t you give to wake up next to him every morning?

The pub was almost empty, when you left. You couldn’t hold his hand on the way out. Everybody in Small Heath was Tommy’s spy. Back on the streets a cold wind blew. Now you had an excuse to go near him and he shared his coat with you. Isaiah was always so sweet and caring. You knew you wanted to spend your future with him. There was no other man and you wouldn’t get over him, not now and not in five years.

You even took off your shoes before entering the Jesus household and followed him on your tiptoes to his room. It was completely dark in the house and the silence was haunting, but good for you, you knew the way by now. The excitement made your fingers tremble.

Finally you arrived where you wanted to be the whole day, in his room. Isaiah closed the door as quietly as possible and started smiling. You walked up to him and started to unbutton his shirt. Now you didn’t want to waste any time.

And neither did Isaiah. He was ripping down your dress, which only worked because the straps were so thin. His hands were all over your body and you couldn’t stop kissing every inch of his skin. It felt like magic whenever he touched you. You moaned, when he played with your bare breasts. To silence you he put his thumb on your lips, which you took as an invitation to suck it. Maybe it was mean to tease him like that, but you were desperate for his affection.

An hour later you laid next to him, your head on his chest as he stroked your hair. “You should leave, before we both fall asleep, babe”, he whispered, which caused you to sign. Leaving now was draining, even exhausting. After this wonderful sex, you were too tired to move anywhere, not to the bathroom and certainly not back to your cold bed.

You pouted your lips and tilted your head, so you could give him your puppy eyes and a pretty please with cream and a cherry on top. “Just ten more minutes. Your bed is way comfier than mine.”

He laughed and kissed your forehead. “That’s just because I’m in this bed and you like to use me as your personal giant pillow.” Your fingers hovered about his belly. Even though his muscles weren’t tense now, you could still feel the strength lying beneath his skin.

While your index finger drew circles around his bellybutton, you whined: “Maybe… just maybe that is true, but I still want to lay here for a bit. Otherwise I start to feel like a whore, who only comes for sex and leaves silently afterwards.”  It wasn’t a knock against Lizzie or her job, but you didn’t like the feeling, when you got home and had to find sleep in your own bed. Even though you had a relationship with him, you still felt lonely. Especially when the sun was rising and nobody was by your side.

“You’re not a whore and you know that”, he argued looking a little concerned.

Then you turned on your back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m a Shelby and that is probably worse”, you scoffed.

Now Isaiah was silent and had no witty comeback for that. Maybe, because it was true. If you weren’t part of the family, you could be with anyone, whoever you wanted. Carrying the name Shelby was the only reason, why you had to hide your relationship with Isaiah.

After a while he mumbled: “Okay, stay for a while, but you should be back before they open the shop.” By that time you were already half asleep and yet his words made you smile. He wrapped his arms around you, the little spoon and purred like a cat. Just in this position the both of you fell asleep.

Loud steps were coming near the door, but they wouldn’t wake you up. The screaming of Isaiah’s name did. It was a familiar voice and it took you a couple of minutes to notice, it was your brother Finn who shouted and ran down the hall. Suddenly you were wide awake. You startled up and looked around the room. The sun was already up and shining through the window. Then you saw Isaiah, who was just as frightened as you were.

If Finn came rushing through that door, your secret relationship was no longer secret. “I locked the door last night”, he whispered, which was relieving to you, but still no perfect solution for this problem.

Now Finn arrived at the other side of the door and was knocking on it like crazy. “Isaiah, wake up! Y/N is gone. Nobody can find her and Michael said you were the last one with her in the bar”, your brother yelled. You could hear the panic in his voice, but you couldn’t get caught. Not now.

You stumbled out of the bed and collected your clothes, when you heard Isaiah ask: “What are you going to do? You can’t go out there. He will find out.” And you knew your boyfriend wasn’t concerned about Finn, more about Tommy.

The tension in the room was immense. You had to come up with a plan or your brothers would shoot your lover in front of your eyes.

Suddenly you knew what to do. You pushed the pile of clothing to your chest and squeeze it thigh, when you explained in a lower tone: “I’m gonna hide in the wardrobe and then you open the door and go with Finn away. Afterwards I can come out and then I go to the betting shop and tell the others I have fallen asleep on a bench or something.” It was not the best plan, but yet your only option.

Isaiah nodded and you climbed into the cabinet where he stored his shirt and jackets. The second you entered the small wooden space, you knew it was all going down. Call it intuition, call it divination, call it whatever power Polly owned, but you felt it rushing through your body. He closed the door behind you and then you could hear him stumble into his pants.

Only half clothed he unlocked the door to let Finn in. Isaiah was still sleepy. He wasn’t the morning type of person and before he hadn’t had his breakfast he wasn’t really available. Finn strode up and down. You heard is nervous steps. “Everybody is freaking out right now. Polly thinks somebody kidnapped her or worse. I mean, she has always been unratable in her doings, but this time my sister is really going of the edge. It’s already past lunch and nobody has seen her”, Finn explained: “This morning her bed was empty and I thought I shouldn’t worry, but now I’m afraid I should have said something sooner.”

The cabinet was very uncomfortable and yet you tried not to move or to make a noise, which would cause Finn’s attention. However, being in Isaiah’s position didn’t seem to be pleasant as well. He had to lie to his best friend about the whereabouts of his missing sister, knowing she was sitting right here. Isaiah patted his friends shoulder and said nothing.

Finn didn’t calm down and seemed to be upset, Isaiah wasn’t panicking like him. “C’mon, get dressed. We have to look for her. She might be lying somewhere in the dirt. We shouldn’t waste even more time, standing around.” Then he walked to the closet and opened just the door where you had been hiding.

Butt-naked you fell down to the floor and looked up to your younger brother, who had the same face expression as the one time you told him where the babies were coming from. Some when later you would look back at this moment and would have a good laugh about this, but right now it felt like your world was collapsing.

He should have seen you like this and it took you a whole minute to gather the mental energy to get back up at your feet and greet him like it was the normal thing to do in a situation like this. “Hey, Finny, there I am.”

Your brother froze mid movement and stared at you as if you were the first pink elephant the world has seen or a bear riding a bike. Then he broke the silence. “What?”, he winced. There was no anger in his voice, just total confusion.

Finn looked to Isaiah and then back to you. “You screwed my sister?!”

There was no answer to this question.

“How long?” Finn asked: “How long did you hide that from me?”

You glared over to you boyfriend as if you were asking him for permission to say something. Isaiah signed and nodded. There was no point in denying this anymore. It was over.

Now you had to tell the truth. “A couple of months, maybe a year or so”, you croaked and your voice sounded strange. Like it was not your own and even though you dreamt about finally opening up, it shouldn’t have been like this.

Your brother yelled: “A year?! A whole fucking year? Damn, I should be proud because apparently you two are excellent liars with no moral issues… you two deserve each other.” You heard the disgust and disappointment, when he spoke and it broke your heart. Back then, when the whole thing started you though he might be the only one of your brothers to understand you. How wonderfully wrong you were.

“No”, you said under your breath: “Don’t fucking do this to me. I would have told you, if you wouldn’t have run straight to Tommy after you knew. Everybody knows you can’t keep a secret. So don’t act like it was my fault or my mistake, because it’s not. I would have gladly told everybody, I’m like him very much, but you and Tommy and Arthur and John made it impossible for me to even talk with a guy who is not part of the gang. You can’t turn this around and act like you are the victim in all this.”

It was time for you to stand up for yourself and your decisions… and time for you to get dressed. You didn’t seem as responsible as you were when you were still naked and in front of the closed you have been hiding in. Now you knew how wrong it was to lie and hide your relationship, because it wasn’t their concern. It was your life, your body and your choice. Nobody could take that from you and certainly not your brothers. You weren’t afraid of them. All your life you saw how your brothers treated women and you said nothing about it, but this should change right now.

So you stood there, furious and filled with rage, put on your dress and your shoes and said one last thing, before leaving: “This madness has to end.”

You stormed out of the room- not caring for Isaiah or Finn- and heading for the King of Small Heath to throw him out of his high throne. Your hair was a nest and you smelled like a bar after a dirty old night, when you entered the betting shop. Nobody was there, just the regular family members.

Everybody seemed to be relieved to see you again and then came close to hug you. Ada was right next to the door and the first to greet you. “Oh my god, you’re back, sweetie”, she muttered.

Next was Polly who examined your appearance for cuts and other injuries. Of course you had none, besides the hickeys Isaiah gave you. She tried to take a closer look of your neck, but you pulled away, which caused her to ask: “What happened? Where were you all night?”

Now Tommy was coming up to you. His steps were slow, but fierce and the glare in his eyes was pinching. “Just from the smell I would guess, she was with a guy this night”, he scoffed: “She probably had a lot of fun, but now she should say, who that guy was, so we can take actions.” You knew he was addressing you, even though he didn’t phrase it like that.

“I don’t think, this is your business”, you replied with a grin on your face. You wouldn’t back down. Not this time. “But yes, I was with a guy tonight. So you don’t need to worry. I’m completely fine.”

Your older brother led out a little laugh, pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Well, well, well, I don’t care what you think. I’m your brother and it’s my job to make sure you’re safe”, he explained: “And now you tell me who he was.” Ah, past tense, a hint of what was going to happen.

You crossed your arms and tiled your head to give him a dismissive look. “Who said it was your job?” was your comeback, but your brother wasn’t remotely impressed. Neither of you would let the other win. You were too stubborn for this gesture of insight.

Others, including Arthur and John, were somehow intimidated by Tommy’s behavior, but not you. Actually, you learned too much from him to take his shit.  He taught you to help your head up high and how to outsmart your enemies.  Now you could use the same strategies against him.

“Ever since our father left and mom died, you act like you are in charge, but you’re not. We are your siblings, not your pawn, waiting for your command”, you hissed: “I have my own life and I make my own decisions and who I meet shouldn’t concern you.” Slowly your anger grew. It was a boiling feeling in your gut, like you were fueled with fire.

Tommy was getting gleaming red. You had hit the right spot and you knew you would hurt him with your words, but otherwise he wouldn’t understand. The words were stuck in his throat as he killed you with his looks.

Patiently, you waited for his answer. He wouldn’t give you the satisfaction, but silencing your brother was the best thing ever, since he was the reason why you felt miserable lately. “No comeback? No arguments, dear?” You loved to poke his wounds and you did it with a huge smile on your face.

“As if you would listen to me… You even said it yourself. You wouldn’t take my advice”, he responded and bid his lip. “But I don’t need to talk to you to teach you a lesson. You’re too young to fuck around town and I’m going to find the bastard who did this and kill him.”

The door was opened behind you and soon Finn entered the room. You gave your little brother the death glare you were known for. He shouldn’t get the idea he was allowed to talk about what he found out.

You should be raging right now, but all you could do was laugh. His empty threats weren’t as daunting as he thought. With nothing but spite you whistled: “I would love to see you try. I kept this a secret for over a year now and you noticed nothing. And now I can wait another year for you to find him… or I could run away… whatever you prefer.”

Now you’re pushing your luck. Finn could ruin everything, if he just said one wrong word. The palms of your hands were sweaty. It was a dangerous game you played there, but it was not like you could back out of it now. This was road of no return.

Tommy seemed to be more surprised than fuming, when he asked: “You slept with some geezers for a year now?” He respected your talent to keep it under the radar. Everybody who could shirk his rules deserved acknowledgement for putting up with this risk. Maybe he was finally realizing how much you had grown. You weren’t his little kitten anymore.

“No, not geezers, just one guy”, you corrected him: “But yes, that is true.”

You watched Tommy as he walked around the table, heading for the whiskey, while he nodded understandingly. “Mh, so you would say it’s love?”

A sign came from your lips. You already knew the answer, but you weren’t so sure, if you should say this out loud. After all, you didn’t even have a proper talk about this with Isaiah. Silence was filling the room, while you calculated your risks. If you said, you loved him and Isaiah wasn’t as serious about the relationship, you would look like an idiot. Good for you, he didn’t come to the betting shop to witness the fight between you and your brother. Finally you decided to tell everybody: “Yes, I do.”

“Good”, Tommy mumbled while he poured his whiskey: “Then you should have my blessing. Just give us the name now.” He took a sip and seemed to be amused by your embarrassment.

Talking about Isaiah, while he wasn’t present, was weird, but you knew why he stayed in the comfort of his own room. You weren’t mad at him for not running after you. This was your fight and not his. And after all your brothers were a little scary, when it comes to stuff like this.

But you had Tommy’s word now and nothing should happen to your man. You shrugged and rolled with your eyes. The fuss they made about this was still annoying.

Ada patted your shoulder and encouraged you to speak. “Do we know him?” The answer was yes, but it was also the reason, why you struggled to say it out loud.

Even John chimed in and kept pushing: “Yeah, what’s up with this fella?” He was smiling to let you know the mood had changed. Nobody was against you anymore.

“It’s…”, you started and fumbled for the seam of your dress: “It’s Isaiah.”

At first it was dead silence, while the others processed the information, then Arthur and John burst out in laughter. Finn seemed to be relieved, because he would have hated it to keep a secret like this. Your older sister was hugging you a little too tight and even Polly was smiling.

Tommy had a smug on his face when he muttered: “If that’s the case, then you should have your happiness.”

“Isaiah is a fine fella. You will be alright”, hummed Arthur. Apparently everybody was happy with your choice. You just had to stand up for yourself.

It felt like a huge weight was lifted off your shoulders and then you could laugh about it too. But suddenly you remember that Isaiah was still waiting for his death in his room. “I should go and let him of the hook”, you fluted and already went to the door when you heard Tommy said: “Don’t get pregnant or he has to marry you.”

[beccascribbles]

hcs series detailing what it is like to be a manager for the various haikyuu teams

karasuno | seijoh |

warnings - swearing, karasuno being their usual selves with the addition of a chaotic manager

word count - 1.7k

being their manager was chaotic enough without the addition of the new first years

you were a second year, joining as a manager in your first year at the insistence of ennoshita, who had not wanted to deal with the likes of tanaka and nishinoya by himself

however, while kiyoko was the calming presence that warmed the boys hearts, you were her more chaotic counterpart

often, you could be found playing pranks on the boys, filling the club room with volleyballs, hiding the bibs

kiyoko was the one to rope you in, stop you from messing around too much, especially when your pranks had increased after the broom incident. you had just wanted to cheer everyone up, but it had only annoyed them

daichi had become irritable and snappy, while sugawara, despite the smile, looked exasperated

tanaka was the only one who didn’t seem too annoyed, giving your hair an affection ruffle

anyway, with the arrival of the new first years, you were determined to turn over a new leaf, make a good first impression

that plan didn’t work out

expecting it to be tanaka, ennoshita, kinoshita and narita walking towards the gym, you had hidden yourself in preparation to scare them (how you managed to mistake the sound of two people for four was beyond you but you did)

you leapt out from your hiding place, letting out a loud roar only to be greeted by a blonde beanpole with glasses and a freckled boy cowering behind him

you then proceeded to let loose a torrent of swear swords

“shit. fuck. sorry. shit. i can’t believe i did that. can we start over?”

you stuck out your hand towards them, the blonde looking at it with disdain while the other moved forward and grasped your hand

“i’m l/n y/n, and i’m one of the managers of the volleyball club,” you said, giving his hand a firm shake, a grin on your face. “this wasn’t how i planned to introduce myself. i thought you were the second years and i wanted to scare them. i promise i’m not always like this.”

cue sugawara piping up from seemingly nowhere, the rest of the team trailing behind, “don’t be fooled. she’s always like this”

“kiyoko is the responsible, lovely manager,” sighed tanaka, causing you to shoot him a glare, “and y/n is the chaotic one but we love her anyway”

“speak for yourself,” scoffed daichi, the ruffling of your hair as he walked past enough to tell you he was only teasing

“rude,” you mumbled before turning back to the two first years with a grin. “anyway, what are your names?”

the freckled one gave you a grin in response, introducing himself as yamaguchi and saying he was pleased to be playing for the team. the blonde refused to reply, walking past with a haughty tilt to his chin, though yamaguchi was quick to introduce him as tsukishima

but you were quick to wear him down, his coldness towards you gradually thawing the more you talked (although he insisted you were just being annoying)

he clearly wasn’t that annoyed as he would often share his music playlist with you

yamaguchi was quick to warm to you after the little scare. you were one of the first he told about wanting to learn the jump floater serve and happily encouraged him

meeting the monster duo of kageyama and hinata went much smoother, considering you had bribed sugawara for information on the pair before you met

the key to kageyama’s heart was milk, so when you introduced yourself and gave him a cartoon, he already knew you would be a great manager

honestly the boy is probably going to become a bit attached to you, constantly asking you to toss the ball to him to practice

definitely asks you to help tutor him as well if he knows you are good at school. kageyama feels far more comfortable with you than tsukishima

hinata was just a literal ball of sunshine, enthusiastically greeting you

probably comes to look up to you a lot and will help you play pranks so long as it doesn’t interfere too much with volleyball practice (you teach him all he needs to know, and enlist his help in executing the great balloon fiasco at the end of your third year)

all the third years definitely see you as a little sister

daichi is fiercely protective over you, steering you away from any volleyball boys who show an interest. literally stares down kuroo when he speaks to you at the training camp

sugawara is definitely the more relaxed one, sitting with you as you gossip about boys. he knows about all your crushes before anyone else. has let it slip on occasion but only to tease you (and to see the way daichi will immediately list off everything wrong about the person and why they don’t deserve you)

asahi is so soft for you. if you’re thirsty, he will scramble for a water bottle. you’re feeling tired? he will give you a piggyback. you don’t even need to ask him directly as he will just do it on instinct at this point (although he was very hurt after you told him off for abandoning the team)

you and the second years are the ultimate friend group, equal parts bitchy and calm

your group chat is constantly pinging, whether you’re in class or not (this is mainly due to tanaka and nishinoya being very bored and deciding to play games together. you will occasionally join in if it’s bowling or pool)

kinoshita and narita know all the gossip. they are your gossip buddies. tanaka walked into a wall while staring at kiyoko? they’ve got photographic proof and a whole video

if you want to know who’s talking shit about who, go to them. honestly, it pays to be quiet sometimes. the stuff daichi lets slip when he thinks no one is listening…

ennoshita is the group mum. he’s responsible for getting you all to practice, though this mainly includes tanaka and nishinoya. the rest of you are very responsible

in ennoshita’s mind, however, you are clubbed in with the two idiots. he believes that without his constant reminders, you’d never be anywhere on time. this is true but you aren’t going to tell him that

the dynamic between you, tanaka and nishinoya is so chaotic. for one, you’re all simps. you indulge their kiyoko obsession and they will listen to you thirst over the people you find attractive. no judgement goes on in these simping sessions, though you do use it as ammunition when you annoy each other

also definitely overprotective of you as well, though constantly show you and the other managers off to other teams to demonstrate karasuno’s superiority

kind of pisses you off and, while kiyoko walks off with yachi, you will hit them on the backs of their heads and tell them to shut up

they would prefer it to be kiyoko but both ultimately agree that you are hot when you are angry so will find out ways to do it more often

yachi and you get on well. personally, you think she’s an adorable mess (the perfect compliment to your chaotic energy)

though she is mainly kiyoko’s responsibility (daichi agreed with kiyoko when she said it would be better that you didn’t show yachi the ropes), you are the one to make her feel more at ease with voicing her opinion. she’s seen you rant at the boys enough times to know they won’t be offended

team sleepovers are a mess (honestly, you wonder why you still host them. answer - team bonding and tradition)

after hinata and kageyama tried to play volleyball with a cushion in your living room, resulting in sending a coffee table and all the glasses it was holding clattering to the floor, you refused to hold them at your place

this is also the reason why daichi, along with kiyoko, requested permission to hold a sleepover at the gym every two months

truth or dare gets crazy, though daichi draws the line when you are dared to strip and run around the school

“tanaka,” he barks, shooting the boy a glare, “that is very dangerous. it is cold. do you want y/n to get hypothermia?”

he will look sheepish and amend the dare to something a bit more tame and school friendly

there is always arguments on who gets to sleep where. when nishinoya and tanaka tried to sleep either side of kiyoko, daichi declared, while ennoshita pulled them away, that boys and girls would slip on opposite sides

you poked your tongue out at a pouting nishinoya and tanaka. you got to sleep next to the love of their lives. you were oblivious to the pout hinata was sending your way. he’d wanted to sleep next to his senpai and was now sandwiched between tsukishima and kageyama

sometimes you will prepare snacks for the boys, much to their horror (while you like to pretend you can cook, rock hard rice is not edible)

surprisingly, the only one honest about it is kageyama, who will hold the food away with a frown. “what is this shit?”

he’ll be hit over the head by tanaka, who shoots you a scared look. he was too slow and kageyama is now at risk of your anger

you plaster a sickly sweet smile on your face. “i won’t be tossing to you for extra practice today”

the worst punishment you can give him. he has to secretly ask the others until yachi finally agrees, too soft for her own good

you and the team are like a family, a messy family that argues and fights, but a family none the less

when the third years left, you may have shed a tear while you were crushed in a group hug and made them promise to keep in touch (which they were obviously going to do)

and, when you and the second years left the year after, you promised that you would keep in touch, that you’d be waiting to see kageyama and hinata on the world stage, threatening tsukishima to ensure he would reply to your messages, crushing yamaguchi and yachi in a hug. ennoshita had to pull you away otherwise you probably wouldn’t have left

[sunflowerdarlingx]

Fred Weasley - “Fred doesn’t date” 3

H everyone, I hope you’re all okay! 

PART ONE 

PART TWO 

Thank you all for the kind comments on the previous parts of this imaine. I post these chapters before I go to sleep and waking up to all your lovely comments and messages really give me the best start to the day.

This is the final part to this series. I’ve had a lot more interaction with people from this story so if anyone would like to request a piece please let me know :)

I hope you all liked the ending, it’s a bit longer than I thought but hopefully its what you all wanted x  

Female Reader.

Warnings: None

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

Fred felt his chest get tight, the sound of her voice alone made his heart ache. He felt the overwhelming need to cry again, tears threatening to spill whilst a lump formed in his throat. Fuck she can’t see me like this.  

His body urged him to look at her, he sucked a deep breath in and turned his head to look at her, shit she looks so fucking cute. She was stood in a pair of shorts and one of Fred’s hoodies with a blanket wrapped around her loosely. Her hair was messy, and her glasses were resting a little low on her nose before she pushed them up.  

His eyes trailed down her body, he felt a small sense of pride seeing her in his hoodie, like he had some sort of claim on her when she wore it. Take that perfect Diggory, she likes my clothes better. I wonder if she wears it when she’s with him?  

Fred hadn’t realised how long he’d been staring for, “I..if not I’ll just go, sorry Freddie, for interrupting” Y/N turned on her heels, tears blurring her vision before he made a noise. A sort of squeak left his mouth before he cleared his throat “it’s okay, you can join me”, his hand patted the spot next to him.  

She patted her hand on the grass to make sure it wasn’t wet before sitting beside Fred. The sat in silence for a bit before Y/N decide to speak, “I’m sorry Freddie, I’m not really sure what I’ve done but I’m sorry if I’ve upset you. I don’t like seeing you upset… especially if I’m the one who caused it” her voice broke and Fred looked down at her, even sitting down he still towered over her slightly.

He wrapped his arm around her shoulder “don’t worry about it” a fake smile took over his face. He wanted to tell her how much he wanted her, he really did but she was with Diggory now.  

“W..what did I do Freddie?” Her voice was a hushed whisper as she leaned her head on his shoulder. Fred looked down at her, internally battling himself about what he should say. He wanted to tell her, he hoped she would change her mind, but if he told her, would she leave him? She had become one of his closest friends, the thought of not having her in his life at all was a thought he wanted to have.  

Fuck it.  

“I em…I saw you and Diggory, outside the kitchens”, that statement alone filled his body with anger as it replayed in his head, Diggory making her laugh, touching her, kissing her. His body tensed beside her, he removed his arm from her shoulders, his jaw clenched and he averted his gaze back up to the sky, sending the moon a deadly glare.  

“Oh…that was nothing” Y/N noticed the shift in Fred, she couldn’t help but admire him in that moment, the way the moon reflected on his skin, the way his jaw tensed and honestly she thought he looked sexy.

Fred averted his gaze back to her and watched her closely, the way her eyes skimmed his body, “didn’t look like nothing to me” his voice was cold.

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, shocked at his tone, “it didn’t mean anything Freddie” she placed her and on his shoulder, “it just sort of happened”.

“Well I heard you were very cosy behind me at dinner so it must have meant something” he shrugged her hand off his shoulder. He usually loved having her touch him but he was angry, so fucking angry.  

He wondered what had happened once he left, for all he knows the exact same hands that were touching him had been all over Diggory. That then lead to him thinking about Diggory having his hands all over Y/N, touching her and holding her all the ways that Fred wished he could have done.  

Y/N was close to getting up and leaving, she was hurt by Fred’s words, why did he hate Cedric so much? So what if they kissed? Then realisation hit, “Freddie, are you jealous?”, his head shot down to face her.  

“No, I don’t get jealous” he stated. Shifting slightly, his eyes were dark as they stared into hers, his jaw still tense.

“Yes you are” she chuckled lightly “you’re jealous because Cedric kissed me”.

Fred groaned, his chest heaved slightly whilst the moment replayed in his head again “ugh don’t remind me, you shouldn’t have kissed him”  

“Why?” her perfect doe eye looked up at him through her glasses, batting her eyelashes as innocence filled her eyes.

“Don’t act like you don’t know” he grunted and looked back up to the sky.  

“Well Freddie I don’t know, why shouldn’t I kiss Cedric?”

“Cause you should be kissing me Y/N, not Cedric! For the last god knows how many weeks we’ve spend so much time together, a lot more than you and perfect Diggory have and you still chose him! We’ve been on dates down to Hogsmeade, spent nights cuddled up sleeping in the common room and even talked about spending Christmas together! Like what on earth went through that pretty little head of yours when you decided to kiss him? Is he really that much better than me?” Fred’s whole body had turned to Y/N, his eyes pleading with her for some sort of explanation as to why she chose Diggory.

She smiled slightly “Freddie, did you ever actually state that those were dates or ever ask me to go on a date with you?”

His eyes widened “no, I thought it was fairly obvious what they were” he huffed.  

She turned to the side and sat up on her knees, “how many girls have you taken on dates from school?”.

The question shocked Fred, why was she asking about other girls?  

“None, I don’t date girls”  

“So, why did you think I would just assume they were dates?”, Y/N was confused, she never really thought Fred would like her like that, obviously what she was told today gave her a hint but she never knew what to think about the dates, she could only hope they meant as much to Fred as they did her.

Fred couldn’t come up with an answer, he sat with his mouth open and closing like a fish out of water for a minute and a half, “it wasn’t obvious?”.Y/N shook her head no. “Well what did you thunk they were?” he was so curious as to how she never figured out they were dates.  

“Well I… I mean I thought we were just hanging out. I kinda hoped they were dates but you don’t exactly have the reputation for dating do you Freddie? I kinda just always thought I was like Angelina or Katie or Alicia. I always wanted to ask but I was scared, I didn’t want to lose you as a friend”  

Fred couldn’t believe what he was hearing, was his reputation really that bad? I mean just because everyone knew he didn’t date didn’t mean he never dated anyone. “Oh” was all that left his mouth.  

“Yeah, oh” Y/N chuckled as she watched Fred’s brows knit together as his thoughts took over.  

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Fred decided to speak “so, say if you knew they were like… official dates, would you have kissed Diggory?”  

“Of course I wouldn’t have” she shook her head quickly.

“Would you have kissed me instead?” A cheeky grin took over Fred’s face.

“If I knew they were dates I would have kissed you the first night we came out here” she giggled and Fred couldn’t help but grin.  

“So what’s going on with you and Diggory then?” Even saying his name pissed Fred off.

“Nothing, he kissed me and then sat with me at dinner out of the blue, I’d hardly call that dating”.  

“What about me and you? Are we…you know…dating? Just since we’ve agreed that we have been on plenty of dates” he emphasised plenty as he chuckled at her.  

“Well that’s up to you Freddie, I thought you didn’t date” she teased, poking his chest.  

“I don’t date, unless I know the girl is right for me and someone I can see a future with so…”

“You see a future with me?” She interrupted him mid sentence.  

“Of course I do, the second I laid my eyes on you, I knew you were special. You literally took my breath away that day on the train, I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you. And these last few weeks…months, have only shown me how well we work together. Seeing you every morning in the hall just makes me feel so.. so good, and then when we are alone it’s like no one else exists. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, I’ve had my guard up for so long, sticking with people I know and am comfortable around and then you came along and the walls I’d built up crumbled. I’ve told you things that not even George knows. I just can’t explain it, I think that if I lost you now I’d be lost.”  

A few tears slipped down Y/N’s cheek whilst Fred spoke. He looked back up at the stars and wrapped his arm around her waist beside him.  

“Of course I can see a future with you, I picture it all the time. We’d have our own little house out in the country and a massive garden where the kids could play quidditch or some muggle sport that you’d get them into and we’d have a good space for outside summer parties like what we have at the burrow. Our kids would each have their own room so they didn’t have to share like George and I and they’d be little pranksters like me but just as smart and talented as you. oh and we’d have a dog, mum never let me have one …”

“We’d have kids?” Y/N’s soft voice brought Fred back to reality.  

He looked down at her “of course we would” he smiled “and we’d have a big wedding, like what Bill and Fleur are planning but we’d have to wait a bit after school before all that started”  

“Wow…you’ve really thought all this through Freddie” she giggled “so now that I know all about the future that you have planned for us,  what do we do now?”

Fred gave her a puzzled look raising his eyebrows whilst he raked his brain for an answer. “Uh….”

Y/N laughed “shouldn’t you ask me something?”

“Oh yeah right, I forgot. Would you like to go on a a date with me?”.  

Y/N frowned slightly, Fred’s eyes widened “what did I do something wrong?”  

“No..it’s just… never mind. I’d love to go on a date with you” She smiled up to him, cuddling into his side. As much as she would have loved the official title of being his she would wait as long as it took.

He pulled her blanket away from her and wrapped it around him. “Oi Freddie that’s mine, give it back” she giggled as she tried to pull the blanket back from him. Fred stretched his arm and held the blanket away from her, she got on her knees and leaned over Fred trying to get it. She placed her knees at either side of his thighs as she tried to reach over.  

She finally gave up and rested in his lap, “Freddie it’s cold” she pouted. Fred’s breath caught in his throat as he looked down at the position they were in. His eyes looked at her lips, then her eyes and then her lips again. God he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to see how it felt.  

Y/N leaned forward and placed her lips on Fred, he was surprised that she initiated the kiss but quickly responded, his hands dropped her blanket and went to her hips and pulled her closer to him, making sure his hands didn’t sit to low. His tongue glided across her bottom lip asking for entrance which she gladly excepted, their lips moving in perfect harmony.  

Y/N couldn’t help but think about how right this felt, Cedric was nothing compared to Fred, as cliché as it sounds she saw fireworks and butterflies fluttered in her stomach.  

Fred had never had a kiss this good, in all honesty he never really kissed the girls he had sex with, it just made the encounter far to intimate for him. But kissing Y/N felt amazing, he loved being so close to her. He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers “I hope you know you’re mine now”, Y/N nodded eagerly before pulling him close for another kiss.  

They spent the rest of the night cuddled up under the stars watching as the sun came out. They walked hand in hand to the castle and sat at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. George was the first to come down and see them sat together “ah no more tears over Y/N then Freddie, did you finally convince her to give you a chance?” he poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.  

“Yes Georgie he did” George choked on his juice slightly before grinning like the Cheshire Cat.  

“Finally! It’s taken you both long enough, sorry for the glares yesterday Y/N, they were mainly at Diggory, I just don’t like seeing Fred upset”.  

Y/N just shrugged before smiling at George “It’s okay Georgie, I don’t like seeing him upset either” she laughed and took a bite of the strawberry she was eating.

The rest of Fred’s friends came down, congratulating the two for finally getting together. Ginny came and sat with them, a big grin on her face. “All worked out in the end then ay Freddie” she teased as she ruffled his hair, “you made the right choice Y/N, perfect diggory is nothing compared to our Freddie”.  

Fred rolled his eyes as Y/N chuckled “you’re right about that”. They ate their breakfast in peace, Fred noticed Cedric come in and pulled Y/N close for a passionate kiss, all of his friends whooping and cheering making sure everyone’s eyes were drawn to them. They both pulled away, Y/N blushing and burying her head in Fred’s chest.  

Ron came over just as they were leaving “here’s the letter to mum gin, just Fred and George left to say if they’re taking anyone home for Christmas” he handed the parchment to George who lazily scribbled Lee’s name down with a little message before handing it to Fred.  

“Do you still want to come?” he looked down to Y/N whilst everyone else engaged in conversation, “If you want me to come I’m there” she smiled up at him and watched him scribble on the parchment.  

Hi mum,

I hope you and dad are good, I miss you both.  

I’m going to take my girlfriend home for Christmas, her name is Y/N Y/L/N, give her a sweater that would fit me please – she keeps stealing mine!

See you soon.  

Love, Freddie x  

He handed the letter back to Ginny before pulling Y/N away from the table, “time for our first date as official boyfriend and Girlfriend” he smirked before leading her to one of the secret passages to Hogsmeade.  

-

Having his girlfriend at the burrow for Christmas was everything Fred wanted and more. He never realised how much he had missed out on. They spent their days cuddled up on the couch watching old films whilst drinking hot chocolate, or out in the snow sledding or building snowmen. Every night was filled with more movies, games and of course Y/N reading muggle tales to Fred as they cuddled in front of the fire (although some of those tales were interrupted by mr Weasley who was so fascinated by the things muggles came up with in their stories).  

It was Christmas Eve and all of the family were heading up to their rooms, Fred tugged Y/N over to the front door and slid her jacket over her shoulders before securing her hat to her head and tying her scarf loosely around her neck. “Get on your boots cutie, I’ve got a surprise”. As Y/N got on her wellies, Mrs Weasley came over with a basket in hand.

“Everything you asked for Freddie” she popped it on the floor, “good night dearie, Freddie is so lucky to have found you” she wrapped her arms around Y/N, she did the same to Fred after he was ready. Walking over to the stairs she stopped and turned on her heels “remember when you get back to go to your separate rooms, I’m not ready to be a grandmother just yet” with a wink she made her way up the stairs.  

“She’s honestly something else” Fred chuckled taking Y/N’s hand in his and leading her out to the garden.  

“I think she’s great”  

Fred used his wand to conjure up a seating area for the two of them and a little fire in front of them. In the basket was blankets, two mugs, a flask of hot chocolate and some marshmallows.  

“Freddie this looks great” Y/N couldn’t help but smile at Fred, she was so lucky to have him.  

He grabbed her wrist and looked at her watch, “five minutes to go” he wrapped a blanket around them both before getting the hot chocolate for them.  

He wrapped an arm around them as they watched the stars “they look so much prettier here than they do at school” Y/N looked up at Fred who was already watching her.

“You look just as pretty here as you do at school” he kissed her forehead. The clock struck midnight and suddenly fireworks started going off.  

Red ones, green ones, white ones, ones in the shape of Santa, ones in the shape of snowmen, Y/N couldn’t look away from them, they were beautiful. Suddenly the fireworks made two figures, they showed two people that Y/N recognised very clearly, it was her and Fred sat in two chairs, the scene sort of reminded her of the times they spent in the library. Next showed the two of them near a circle of blue, this reminded her of all the times they’d spent at the black lake.  

Finally the fireworks showed them kissing and “merry Christmas Y/N” was spelt above them, with “I love you” underneath.  

Y/N gasped as she looked over at Fred, a few tears had escaped her eyes and Fred softly wiped his thumb across her cheek, smiling down at her. “Do you really?” She asked in disbelief.  

“I love you” he placed a kiss to her lips, slow and gentle before pulling back. Y/N was practically grinning from ear to ear “I love you too Freddie”. They sat outside a little longer continuously saying those three special words to each other. They made their way back inside, sitting on the couch for a cuddle before bed. “Merry Christmas Freddie” Y/N yawned and cuddled into his chest.  

“Merry Christmas cutie” he kissed her forehead, his eyes shut.

They woke up the next morning to Mrs Weasley standing above them “I said separate rooms” she said sternly before breaking out into a smile “merry Christmas you two” she kissed both of their foreheads before going into the kitchen.  

Fred and Y/N were the first ones up, when they joined her in the kitchen they both apologies only to be waved off my Molly.

Soon it was time for presents, everyone received a jumper from Mrs Weasley and she followed Fred’s instructions, ensuring the jumper with Y/N’s initial was the same size as Fred’s.

Fred and Y/N left opening each other’s presents until last. Y/N got Fred a new beater for quidditch, some sweeties from honeydukes and a big teddy in the shape of a dog, “I know how much you’ve always wanted one” she winked. Fred grinned from ear to ear as he showed off his new bat to George.

It was now Y/N’s turn, there was a small box on the floor with her name on it, she carefully took off the wrapping paper and opened the box to reveal the most beautiful bracelet she had ever seen, there was a W charm attached with a broom and a star either side. “Oh Freddie I love it, thank you so much!” she practically flew into Fred’s arms giving him a big cuddle and a kiss.

“I love you” he whispered into her ear.  

“I love you too”  

Tagged

@jenniweaslee @britishspidey @parkeroffline @westyywifee @gloryekaterina @pineapplesandpinas @manuosorioh @itsbebeyyy @nojamsonmytoast @blackqueens01 @mahvelous @supermassiveblackhope @justmesadgirl @fandomlovver

[navalcriminalimagines]

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.

[sunrisefairy]

Last chances

Pairing: George Weasley x reader Warning: Alcohol, swearing, angst (but worth it i promise) Summary: Y/N is getting married. To someone that isn’t George. 

A/N: this was written for @inglourious-imagines​​ 1K writing challenge (i just realised i didnt tell you before hand what prompts i was gonna do so i hope thats okay) based off the prompts ‘you need to leave’ and ‘d-did you just k-kiss me?’

Taglist: @hufflepuff5972​ @inglourious-imagines​ @klausdatprettyboi​ @georgeweasleyswhre​ @horrorxweasley​ @amourtentiaa​ send me an ask if you would like to be added

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George felt all the air being sucked out of his lungs as he read over the golden cursive words printed onto the crisp white paper. He could feel Fred’s pitiful stare burning holes into the side of his head, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the paper in his grasp. George’s brain was overflowing with thoughts, but his head was empty at the same time, as if every time he reached out his thoughts were dissolving into liquid and slipping through his fingers.

By the time George managed to make eye contact with Fred, his eyes were red and burning with tears, the only thought he could wrap his fingers around was the one which was destroying him the most, “she’s getting married?”

~~~

The sun was beating down harshly making the sand feel like tiny grains of lava, but George didn’t care. It was the middle of summer and the Weasley family had invited the Y/L/N’s to the beach. John and Nancy Y/L/N had been very good friends with Molly and Arthur Weasley for many years having met during high school. But soon after graduation John and Nancy got married and decided to travel the world which they had done for a few years before having their daughter Y/N. They moved around a lot while Y/N was a baby, still wanting to explore and see what the world had to offer. But now, Y/N was 7 and they decided it would do her and themselves some good to settle down somewhere, plant some roots so to speak. Which is how they ended back in the small town John and Nancy grew up in, the one where the Weasleys were still living.

Giving that it was summer, and the weather was reaching high temperatures the Weasley family decided to spend the day at the beach so the children could kill some energy and excitedly invited their old friends, John and Nancy to catch up.

George was particularly thrilled not only because he loved days at the beach playing with his siblings and making sandcastles just to pretend he was a giant and stomp on them, but he couldn’t wait to meet Y/N. His parents had told him and Fred that Y/N was their age and although Fred wasn’t very interested in playing with a girl and would much rather prank Ron, George had a good feeling about Y/N.

George had just finished constructing a sandcastle he named ‘Castle Weasley’ and was about to jump on it when his mum calls for him. He drags his bare feet through the hot sand over to his parents who are chatting with 2 people he doesn’t recognise.

“Fred, George this is John and Nancy, and this is their little girl Y/N.” Molly gestures to the timid girl hiding behind her mum’s leg.

Reluctantly Y/N moves from her previous hiding spot and stares doe eyes up at the twins in front of her. George’s mouth is dry and his palms are clammy, but he doesn’t think it’s from the blistering heat. George Weasley is staring at the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen.

~~~

It’s been 3 weeks since Y/N’s wedding invitation arrived in the mail and George had shoved it under a pile of bills he was also planning to ignore. Although he doesn’t need to see the invitations to remember the words which were written on the paper ‘kindly join us for the wedding of Y/N L/N and William Chapman. Saturday the seventeenth of April at 11 o’clock.’

It was the 10th of April today, just 7 days till Y/N’s wedding. George felt bile rising in the back of his throat every time he thinks about Y/N marrying someone which wasn’t himself. George has had a crush on the girl ever since he first met her that day on the beach. Back then he only ever saw it as a silly little crush which he hoped he’d eventually get over. But years went on and his crush only grew and grew until it was suffocating. When they reached high school, George planned to tell Y/N about his feelings but chickened out each time, scared of ruining their friendship.

To be honest George always felt (maybe he just hoped) that him and Y/N were meant for each other and sooner or later they’d be together. He held tightly onto this when Y/N started dating William. George was optimistic that William and Y/N’s relationship wasn’t serious and eventually they’d break up and George could finally confess his feelings. All of that went down the drain the second George open up that stupid envelope.

“I ran into Y/N today. At the store,” Fred says carefully trying to gage his brother’s reaction to her name. George just offers a grunt in response, eye staring blankly at the tv in front of him. “she asked about you, wants to know if you’re going to the wedding since she hasn’t heard anything from you.”

George doesn’t reply. Fred just sighs, ”c’mon mate. You’re really not going to go? It’s Y/N we’re talking about here. She’s your best mate.”

George racks his ringers through his already messy hair, squeezing his eyes closed. “That’s exactly why I can’t go. It’s Y/N. How can I sit there and watch Y/N marry some other guy and pretend I’m okay with it?” George feels tears threatening to fall down his cheeks, it’s a wonder he has any tears left to cry.

Fred moves closer to George on the couch, wrapping his arm around his twin who chokes out a sob, “I know buddy, I know it fucking hurts.”

~~~

Since graduating high school George and Y/N made it tradition to catch up once a week if not more so they wouldn’t lose touch. But their newfound busy lives with university and work meant they hadn’t seen each other for a month. They finally found a day that they were both free and decided to meet up for coffee. George had paid for Y/N’s latte while she found them a table by the window. He set their drinks down admiring how beautiful Y/N looked, she was practically glowing.

“So, Y/N what’s new with you? I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you,” George takes a long sip of his coffee.

George knows Y/N must have some important news for him, judging solely off the smile that she’s failing to conceal. “Well, if you must know. I met someone.”

The colour drains from George’s face and he coughs trying to regain his composure. “Like a boy?”

“Yes a boy silly, his name is William and I met him at the library. It was actually really funny I was turning down one of the aisles and he” George drowns out Y/N’s voice, he can hear his heart thumping in his chest, threatening to jump out.

George knows, he knows it’s his own fault for not telling Y/N how he feels sooner. He knows he doesn’t have anyone else to blame but himself, but it doesn’t make this hurt any less. Sweet, kind Y/N, who had gently cradled George’s heart unknowingly since they were 7, has squeezed it between her slender fingers like a stress ball.

“George?” Y/N words break him from his trance.

“That sounds amazing Y/N, I’m really happy for you.”

~~~

It’s Monday and Y/N has been trying to contact George for days with no luck. She ran into Fred last Saturday who said George has just been super busy with work, she didn’t believe it one bit, she needed to find out why George has been ignoring her.

She pushes the store door open and the bell above chimes announcing her arrival.

“Sorry we’re closed for the day!” a voice travels through the store before it’s owner exits the storeroom to see who the culprit is, who clearly cannot read the ‘closed’ sign hanging on the door.

George’s eyes land on Y/N who is standing by the front door unmoving and twiddling with her fingers, playing with an engagement ring that seems out of place on her left hand. “What are you doing here?”

Y/N steps closer, not noticing the way George takes a small step back, “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

George doesn’t speak, he’s certain that his voice would be unsteady if he did. Y/N hates the silence, so speaks again, “I’m getting married you know, on Saturday.”

George sucks in a breath, turning his back to fix one of the displays. “Yeah, congratulations,” he mumbles.

“I didn’t know if you got the invitation or not, kind of expected you to call.” Y/N shoves her hands into the pockets of her jeans, moving so she is standing beside George who is avoiding her gaze. “What’s the matter Georgie?”

George shakes his head, “kind of fast isn’t it? Why the rush to get married to that twat?”

Y/N rolls her eyes, ever since George met William, he made it very clear he didn’t like the bloke. “George stop it. He proposed and I said yes. We figured why wait to start our lives together, y’know? So on Saturday I thought that-“

“-I’m not going.” George’s words felt like a hot knife to Y/N’s chest. When George finally mets her gaze he continues, “I’m not going to the wedding Y/N.”

“Why?”

“Because! Because William is a prick and doesn’t deserve you. I can’t sit there and watch you marry some idiot.” George knows his voice is getting louder and that his hands are flailing around but he doesn’t care. “He’s an absolute tosser! You deserve better than William.” You deserve me.

“William has done nothing but love me, George.” The thought of George not being there at her wedding breaks her heart. George was her best friend; how could she not have her best friend at the wedding. “Are you really not going to be there for me?” Y/N’s voice is quiet and timid.

It shatters George to see her so upset and the next words almost kill him.

“No, I won’t be there.”

~~~

Click.

Click.

Click.

“Okay mum that’s enough photos now!” Y/N giggles trying to hide her face behind her hands.

“Just one more please! George put your arm around her this time.” Nancy says holding the camera up to her face.

George wraps his arm around Y/N waist pulling her closer to him very aware of the way Y/N leans into his side. It’s the night on the school dance and somehow he had gathered enough courage to ask Y/N to go with him, she agreed of course and now they were standing out the front of Y/N’s house in front of the rose bushes while Y/N and George’s parents took photos.

“Okay now one with the four of you together,” Molly says pushing Fred and his date over to the rose bush. The four of them stood together smiling at all the flashing cameras which almost blinded them.

Molly wipes a tear that slips down her cheek, she always got emotional during things like this, “I cannot believe my little babies are growing up. 16 and going to a school dance with their gorgeous dates.”

“Right mum that’s enough, we’re gonna be late,” George groans although he didn’t mind having his arm around Y/N’s middle.

Molly nods agreeing, “right fine! Don’t want to keep you from your dance, have fun!”

Arthur drops the 4 of them off at the school hall reminding them he’d be back at 12 to pick them up.

All 4 of them spend most of the night dancing together and laughing at Fred’s questionable dance moves. Soon the upbeat song comes to an end and a much slowly one started playing. Immediately Fred extends a hand to his date, “m’lady. Care to dance?”

George turns his body to face Y/N who is gazing up at his tall frame, he gulps “Y/N do you wanna dance with me?”

The smile that spreads across her face could light up the room, “yes please.”

For the remainder of the night George and Y/N sway slowly to the music, Y/N moves closer to George until her head is resting against his chest and his arms find their place on her hips.

Y/N can hear George humming to the music above her and she smiles giving his shoulders a small squeeze, then whispers so quietly she’s worried George doesn’t hear her. “I hope we are always best friends Georgie.”

“I promise we will be love.”

~~~

Friday night and George hasn’t spoken to Y/N since she visited the shop. He’s ignored her phone calls and text messages; she came into the shop again on Wednesday, but George locked himself in the backroom telling Fred he had to do stocktake.

George could feel himself falling apart, Y/N was upset with him, Fred was annoyed at his childish behaviour. George felt himself fall deeper and deeper as his heartache and sorrow grew stronger every time he remembered Y/N’s engagement. The only thing which seems to numb his feelings was the alcohol.

At this point George wasn’t sure how much he had had to drink, but the buzz running through his system was better than the bitterness he was feeling before. It had just hit 11:30pm at night and he had finished the last of the tequila from the bottle. With no alcohol to distract his brain his eyes drift over the numerous photo frames he has hanging on the living room wall. His eyes stop at one photo in particular, it’s of him and Y/N from the day at the beach when they were 7. Despite it being the first time the two had met, they looked like they’d known each other since birth. Y/N had been very shy when she was introduced to the twins, but George quickly made her feel comfortable and the day was spent with lots of laughter and smiles. In the photo George and Y/N are stood side by side on the sand, grinning up at the camera. They had just made a huge sandcastle village and were very proud to show off their creation. George’s eyes wander down the photograph to their hands which are tightly intertwined. He bites his lip before stumbling out the front door.

~~~

“Do you ever think about getting married Georgie?” Y/N questions, she’s lying beside George outside on the grass, staring up at the clouds moving above them. They did this a lot, gazing at the sky trying to find the funniest shapes in the clouds.

George is only 12 but he knows exactly who he wants to marry, not that he will admit that.

“No, not really.” George tries not to freak out when he feels Y/N’s hand intertwine with his own, “do you?”

Y/N nods, “yep, I want to marry someone who is funny and will let me eat ice cream for dinner.” She giggles and it makes George’s heart soar, it the 5 years of knowing Y/N it had quickly become George’s favourite sound.

He turns his head to face Y/N, she’s still looking up at the sky, there’s a faint smile on her lips.

“I’m funny.” George isn’t sure what he’s insinuating.

Y/N turns to face him, “you are. Would you let me eat ice cream for dinner?” he nods eagerly.

Y/N purses her lips before smiling, “well then Georgie, maybe I’ll marry you.”

George can only hope that’s true.

~~~

George’s fist hammers against the wooden door. It knows it late and there’s a chance William will answer instead of Y/N but in this moment he doesn’t care. “C’mon Y/N open up! It’s me George.”

The door swings open and Y/N is standing on the other side in a fluffy dressing gown wrapped snuggly around her body rubbing her eyes. “George what the hell are you doing here?” There’s a trace of annoying on her voice, mostly because he’d woken her up but also because she’s been trying to talk to him all week and he decides to show up at her house at midnight the night before her wedding.

“I-um,” George stammers, his words getting stuck in this throat. He has spent practically his whole life wanting to tell Y/N he loves her but never being able to find the words, this time was no exception. So, in George’s alcohol fuelled mind he decides if he can’t use words then actions are the next best thing.

Y/N is staring blanking at the redhead on her porch, eager to know the reason why he’s standing in front of her after ignoring her all week. George timidly steps closer towards Y/N before resting his hands on her cheeks and pressing their lips together roughly.

Y/N is stood frozen on the spot until her hands reach up to rest on George’s chest. She can taste the strong alcohol on Georges mouth, and she’s pulled back to reality and pushing him away. “D-did you just k-kiss me?”

George nods.

Y/N is filled with anger and it starts to bubble up inside of her. “What the fuck George? You’ve been ignoring me all week not answering my calls or texts and-and then you just come here drunk and do that? You can’t come here the night before my wedding and kiss me. It’s not fair!”

George’s shoulders slump, “I’m sorry, I just had to say- that I…” he pauses again, his eyes scanning over Y/N’s face hoping somehow she’s learnt how to mind read.

“What? You had to say what George?” Y/N is aware that she’s yelling but she can’t bring herself to care.

“That I love you.”

Y/N doesn’t speak her brain is running a hundred miles a minute. The silence is unpleasant and unbearable, George looking into Y/N’s eyes trying to read her expression.

“You need to leave,” Y/N utters, her face unmoving.

It’s like George’s feet are glued to the ground, he’s brain is screaming at him to move but he can’t.

“You need to leave George.” Y/N’s voice is firmer this time, “I’m getting married tomorrow and you need to leave right now.”

~~~

George Weasley is an idiot. No, he’s more than an idiot, George Weasley is a dickhead, plain and simple.

He hadn’t been able to fall asleep when he got home, he kept replaying the night over and over. Every time he closed his eyes, he was met with Y/N staring back at him. Except she’s staring with so much disgust it makes George feel sick, he can still hear Y/N’s voice telling him to leave. George Weasley not only managed to lose the life of his life in one night but also his best friend. He feels like a dickhead.

George glances over at the clock next to his bed. 10:30 am. Y/N is getting married in 30 minutes. His chest pains, he thinks he might throw up.

George staggers out of bed and towards the kitchen, he needs water. His journey is interrupted by a harsh knock from the front door. He sighs, he knew Fred would come around to try and convince him to go to the wedding. George figures he couldn’t go to the wedding even if he wanted to, sure that his invitation was no longer valid after last night.

“Fred, seriously I’m not going,” George flings open the door and he almost passes out.

Y/N was standing there looking like an angel, he thinks maybe he died from alcohol poisoning and was actually in heaven. Y/N’s hair was laying loosely across her shoulders, she was wearing a breathtaking white gown which hugged her body perfectly.

George mouth is gaping open his voice coming out breathless and in a whisper, “what-what are you doing here?” He’s half expecting Y/N to slap him across the face for his antics last night.

“I couldn’t do it,” Y/N also whispers, as if this is a secret conversation, only meant for the two of them.

“Why?” George squeaks.

“Because I love you.”

Y/N steps closer and drapes her arms around George’s neck pulling him closer so their foreheads are resting against each other.

As soon as she woke up this morning Y/N felt ill. It wasn’t until she was standing in her wedding dress by the church did she realise why she felt sick. It was because the man that was waiting for her inside the church wasn’t George. Her mum sensed her daughters doubts and offered a comforting hand on her shoulder, “darling, you tell me right now if you want out. I’ll get a car, I’ll sort out this whole thing, you won’t have to worry about a thing.”

Without thinking Y/N had responded, “I want out mum.” That lead to Y/N zooming away in her dad’s car straight for George’s place.

Y/N gazes into George’s warm and gentle eyes, she felt home, “I love you even though you’re an idiot who waited to tell me you loved me till the night before my wedding to someone else.”

George chuckles, “yeah I guess I am but I’m your idiot.”

[dcforts]

[week 3: i can still recall our last summer]

1.6k, pre s12.

Dean said it was too hot. He’d said it fifty times already since they left the bunker this morning and they were not even halfway through the journey.

He huffed and puffed, saying how uncomfortable he was in his jeans and tshirt and how much he hated his sweaty skin sticking to the vinyl seat. Cas tried to look sympathetic.

“I can’t even look at you right now,” said Dean, his eyes on the road, little drops of sweat above his upper lip. “At least loose the trench coat. I feel like I’m wearing it, it’s making me physically sick,” he said overly dramatic.

Cas indulged him and slipped it off, took off his jacket as well and loosened his tie.

Then he unbottoned his cuffs and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. He did a pretty nice job of it, he thought. He'd had done it a couple of times before, but Dean always said it looked messy and usually rolled them down again to do them himself.

Cas didn't mind that too much; Dean's fingertips travelling up his arms felt different than anything else he'd have ever experienced and he kind of started anticipating it.

Dean must have felt really bad today though, because he didn’t do anything but throw a quick look at him. Despite not being affected by it, Cas could tell the weather was unusually hot and Dean was definitely not used to it. Still, he could do with a change of topic.

Dean seemed to cheer up a bit when they passed a sign saying they were nearing a gas station, but then spent the time it took to get there to complain some more and apologize to his girl for not thinking of getting her a drink sooner. Cas managed to avoid making a comment on Dean talking about his car like that.

The place was pretty much empty. There were only two pumps that looked pretty old and a little store behind them. Dean stopped the car at the pump closer to the road and wriggled in his seat to take out a few dollar bills from his jeans, “I’m gonna get gas, could you go ahead to pay and get me something to drink?”

Cas nodded, “Sure.”

So he stepped into the store where the A/C was blasting and some mellow music was playing in the background. He wandered towards the fridges that held the beverages and spent a while trying not to feel overwhelmed by the choices available.

He knew what kind of beer Dean preferred, but it was too early for that. He scanned the shelves and looked for something that seemed refreshing.

There was one kind of juice that promised to be a "Natural Fruit Drink" and was stored in little colourful pouches. It looked refreshing enough. He grabbed two lemonaded drinks and a big water bottle.

“Would you consider this being a refreshing beverage?”

The old lady at the cash register smiled at him as if he was being funny, “Sure. There’s only one*, right?” she said, winking. She looked like she was expecting a reaction from him, but Cas didn’t know what to say. First of all, he was paying for two pouches.

“Uh –"

“Nevermind, dear,” she huffed a laugh, “you were probably too young to remember.”

That was highly unlikely, Cas thought. Thankfully she was handing him his receipt already so he was able to get away from the conversation with a, "Have a good day, ma’am.”

When he got outside Dean was waiting for him leaned against the Impala. There was no one else still, so he wasn’t in a hurry to free the space and lose the shade of the canopy over his head.

He had his arms crossed and looked like he was thinking intensely. Probably a way to murder the Sun.

He looked up when Cas approached, “What you got for me?”, he said and when he saw what he was carrying, he had the funniest reaction.

He started laughing.

“What?”

“Capri Sun?” he laughed some more, genuinely delighted, “God,” he said, taking one of the pouches from Cas, “Wh-why did you get these?” he asked in a silly voice and didn’t even wait for Cas to reply. “I haven’t had one of these in like – forever.”

He turned the pouch in his hands and then his smile softened and disappeared. He cleared his throat and knitted his eyebrows.

“You don’t like it?” Cas asked, confused by the sudden change of expression. “I also got you water.”

“Uh – no,” said Dean, “No, nothing like that. It’s just –” he was still turning the thing in his hands and not making any move to start drinking it. “These remind me of my mum?” he said like it was a question. He looked up at him and let out a little laugh. “It’s – weird. I can’t really – I mean I was three. I know I can’t possibly remember, and maybe most of the things are like – a wish or a dream or something, but – You know when you get like, memories from tastes and stuff? Like in In Search of Lost Time.”

Cas didn’t really know.

It must have read on his face because Dean snorted, “Forget it,” and kept going, “It brings me back to when I was a kid and – I don’t know.” He looked at the pouch. “I think it was summer? Must have been summer. I don’t even – She’d like, take me to the park, I think. I don’t remember Sam being there, so it must have been the last summer where it was just me and her, you know, before she – ” he trailed off, his hand gently squeezing the pouch. “Yeah. Anyway, I don't even know if it's real. Could be a commercial or something." He clicked his tongue, then finally jammed the straw in the plastic and brought it to his lips.

Cas was still standing there, his hands full, watching him as he drank. There was more to the story and he didn't want to interrupt. Sure enough, Dean added, “Anyway, when she was gone and we got on the road, money got a bit tight. I remember crying and kicking ‘cause my dad wasn’t buying it for me. That I remember well. I remember I learned not to ask for it anymore. So I had kind of – forgotten about it.”

He fell silent. Dean's childhood had been unfair and tragic and if Cas could have had the power to do something to set it right he would have. Dean rarely talked about it so casually. He didn't seem sad like other times, but as he finished his drink, Cas still felt the need to tell him, "I didn't mean to upset you."

"No, I'm not upset," he was quick to reply, shrugging, "I mean, real or not, it makes me feel good." He flashed out a smile, "It's making me feel good right now," he said, raising his eyebrows playfully at him, "Guess it'll remind me of today now too. And at least I'm sure this is real."

“Is today really a good memory?" asked Cas, skeptical, "You complained all the way here. And I thought you said, 'I'd rather go back to Hell than live another day like this.'"

Dean snorted, “Yeah, well," he said, one corner of his mouth going up in half a smile, "the weather is not all there is."

He looked away and walked a few steps to throw out the empty pouch. On his way back he headed straight towards Cas, and came to stand very close to him.

Cas blinked, “Do you want the other one?”

Dean smiled like he was being funny. “Nah, I’ll drink that later,” he said, but still took out of his hands both the water bottle and the juice and Cas didn’t understand what was going on when Dean sent them bouncing onto the backseat from the open window, barely taking his eyes off of him. Cas could not help but stare back.

“What-" he tried to ask, but Dean was already cupping his left elbow with one hand, soon joined by the other and unrolling the sleeve of his shirt. Oh.

Dean lowered his gaze as he worked and Cas took the chance to stare at him from such a short distance, focus on his eyelashes, his sweaty brow, the dark freckles on his skin. He was really close, closer than Cas thought he'd like to be in this heat. Cas' arm dangled by his side like a dead weight when he released it and his right arm was already halfway up in offering. Seeing that made Dean smile a little.

They were really close.

They were really close and Cas kind of wanted to step closer.

“You are so bad at this,” Dean huffed, his fingertips and knuckles brushing his skin. Cas thought it hadn’t looked that bad, but Dean would surely know better than he. He'd almost finished rolling up the other one as well, and he was slowing down his movements.

Cas wished he had four other arms.

"So -" Dean said, taking his time to smooth the last of the wrinkles, "How about a deal? If I start complaining too much, you -", he pursed his lips like he was thinking it through, but he was just trying to be funny. Cas found him funny, "you can play some music, drown out my voice."

"Do I get to choose the tape?" Cas asked, feigning innocence.

Dean looked up to give him an unamused look that said he was taking it too far, but when their eyes met he realized Cas had been waiting for that and was actually holding back a grin.

So Dean puffed a sigh to smooth the smile that was threatening to curl his lips. It didn't really work so he had to look away to hide it.

"Fine," he said in the end, finally letting go of his arm. He gave him a pat on his shoulder as he walked past him. "I'll let you choose the tape." He pointed a finger at him from the other side of the car. "Just this one time."

Cas was fine with that.

*a reference to the 82' commercial you can see here - just a fun a coincidence that it's the same year Dean's referring to :)

@bend-me-shape-me said #deancassummerprompts21 and I said YES

[booksarelife-stuff]

Dancin’ is a Dangerous Thing

James Potter/Lily Evans Potter (jily)

The moments in which James Potter and Lily Evans danced with each other. Pure fluff. 

Word Count: 2,556

Read on AO3

The first time Lily Evans danced with James Potter, it was a complete accident. 

It was fifth year, Gryffindors had not only won the Quidditch Cup, but the House Cup as well. The music is loud and blaring some wizarding band that Lily thinks is trying way too hard to be Queen. 

She’s tipsy, but not drunk. Her fingertips are tingling and she knows her face is flushed. She just finished her second firewhiskey of the night before Mary pulled her to the part of the common room where most of the other Gryffindors were dancing. 

She’s passed from partner to partner. She remembers Sirius at one point, watching him trying to teach Peter how to swing his hips. She laughed hysterically before Marlene pulled her back in.

She was sweaty when she spun right into James’s chest, almost knocking him over. He grabbed on to her to save himself from falling, his hands on her back, Lily’s face in his chest. 

“Oof,” Lily said. 

“A bit drunk there, Evans?” James asked as Lily pulled away.  She was so close he could hear him over the music. 

“Nope,” she said, stumbling. He snorted just as a new song started. This time it was Killer Queen. 

“I love this song!” she yelled. Lily would deny that she was the one to grab James’s hand and pull him in to dance, but all she could remember was the warmth of his hand in hers and how she laughed when he twirled her. 

The second time started with a question. 

“Do wizards even have their own dances?” Mary asked, scrunching her nose. All the sixth year Gryffindor’s had snagged a table in the common room and were quietly doing their work until Sirius asked a question about Muggle traditions for his Muggle studies class. 

“Nah,” James said from beside Peter. His feet were kicked up on the table as he leaned back in his chair. Alice had been doodling on his shoes, which Lily was sure James knew, but didn’t tell her to stop. 

“I mean, we have the same,” Sirius said with a shrug, “Just use them in different places.”

“These pureblood boys had to take dancing lessons,” Marlene said, smugly.  Sirius scoffed. 

“Yeah, so we could dance with whatever cousin Mummy and Daddy picked out for us,” he said. 

Lily blanched at that. 

“Mum made me do it to get out my energy,” James said. “Never worked. I would just waltz around until I broke something.”

The table laughed. 

“Lily, don’t you know how to waltz?” Mary asked. Lily sighed and nodded. 

“We learned in primary school for some reason,” Lily said. “Like anyone one of us in Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge.”

“Show me,” James said, his bright hazel eyes meeting hers. Lily raised an eyebrow at him. 

“What?” she asked, feeling the heat of a challenge from him. He smirked at her, a hand reaching up to his hair to mess it up. 

“You said no one from Cokesworth was going to need that knowledge,” he said. “So I’m asking you to show me.”

She knew what James was doing. It was plain as day. It was either a challenge or an excuse to dance with her, but frankly, she really didn’t care which it was, based on the way the butterflies erupted in her stomach. 

“I need a partner,” she said, sticking her hand out towards him. 

“You’re on,” he said, closing his book and dropping his feet to the ground. 

The warmth of his hand made her whole body tingle and she hoped her face wasn’t bright red as she felt his other hand appear on the small of her back, the starting position. Lily wondered when he got so tall, as she would have to crane her neck up to look at him. She decided to stare at the knot of his tie that was peeking out from his gray jumper. 

Marlene started humming, and they started off clumsily, but it was fine. 

“So, um, bad time to tell you Evans,” James started, glancing down at their first. “I’m bloody rubbish at dancing.”

He stepped on her foot and punched him in the arm. 

~~~

The third time they danced, Lily realized she was in bloody love with the bloke. 

Seventh year had brought a lot of surprises to Lily, including James as the head boy. It seemed since he walked into the prefect compartment on the very first day on the train, he was all she could think about. 

But they were just friends, she reminded herself every time he would playfully knock her shoulder during patrols, or stay up past midnight talking. 

When Petunia’s wedding invitation arrived at breakfast, Lily didn’t want to go, but an accompanying letter from her mother confirmed that Lily had no choice in the matter, but she could bring a date. 

When she asked James to go, her palms were sweating and her heart was jumping in her throat, but he had said yes, like it wasn’t a big deal. 

Petunia's wedding was on New Year’s eve, going into the new year. Lily had been in a bad mood as a result of her family bossing her around to get the wedding all ready. 

But when James arrived, everything seemed to change for Lily. He was dressed in nice muggle clothes and Lily could tell that he had tried to manage his hair. She hugged him tightly. 

He charmed her whole family in minutes, besides Petunia. Whether because he was a freak like Lily or because he had brown skin, Petunia glared at him constantly, her mouth pinched in a sour expression. 

Lily wanted to apologise for even bringing him into the situation but he wouldn’t hear of it. She instead, grabbing his hand, lacing her fingers with his, and didn’t let go of it once. 

During the ceremony, Lily could only focus on James’s hand in hers. He had always been fidgety, normally bouncing his leg, up and down, but he instead used Lily’s hand. Either drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb or just playing with her fingers. Lily didn’t mind it one bit and she realized that she let him do it forever. 

At the reception, Petunia and Vernon cut the cake before quickly going to their first dance. James leaned over from his spot next to her. 

“I thought Muggles smashed the cake into each other’s faces,” he whispered. Lily nodded. 

“Yeah, sometimes, but I highly doubt Petunia would go for that. Especially with how much her dress cost,” Lily replied. James pouted a little. 

“I came to see cake smashing,” he said. “I was going to write a whole paper on it for Muggle Studies.”

Lily laughed, causing a few people to give her some nastly looks because Petunia and Vernon were still doing their dance. 

“I’ll gladly smash some cake in your face,” she said. James squeezed her hand. 

“Save it for the wedding, Lils,” he whispered. 

If Lily’s heart could have leaped out of her chest, it would have in that moment. 

When James pulled out to the dance floor, she knew that she was in trouble, especially when a slow dance came on. She couldn’t help herself as she got closer to him, their bodies touching. 

“I don’t want to step on your feet,” he said, his hazel eyes sparkling as he looked down at her. 

“I don’t care, James,” she replied. “I wore closed toe shoes for a reason.”

He chuckled, Lily feeling his chest move. 

“Sorry I’m a horrid dancer,” he replied. “I practiced with Mum yesterday and I about broke her toes.”

“You practiced with your Mum?” Lily asked, feeling like the whole world stopped. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “I didn’t want to make you look like a bloody fool out here.”

She loved him, every doubt leaving her body. She stopped their lazy swaying and pulled away to look up at him, smiling like a fool. James, who had no idea what Lily was thinking, smiled a little confused. 

“Evans?” he asked. “Everything alright?”

“I bloody love you,” she replied. His eyes widened for a second, but they quickly closed as Lily pulled him into the best kiss of both of their lives. 

~~~

James’s hands were sweating profusely the next time they danced. 

Their small little cottage in the village of Godric’s Hollow was slowly becoming more like home to them, despite the random boxes that still linger two weeks after they moved in together. 

It had been a learning experience for both of them, despite the fact that they practically stayed with each other every night since they graduated Hogwarts some six months ago. 

Lily was a bit messy, rivaling James’s need for clear space. Lily walked through the house on light feet, but James seemed to make as much noise as possible, despite his efforts to be quieter. But all in all, they were happy and adjusting to each other. 

James did a once over of their house again, making sure things were in place. He used his mirror to talk to Sirius and Remus, basically nervously rambling until Remus looked James in the eye and told him he needed to calm down. 

But when the fireplace turned bright green, James quickly stuffed the mirror under the couch cushions and waited for Lily to emerge. 

He smiled widely at her when she stepped through. Her robes were covered in stains and she had a smear of something on her face. She immediately sat her bag down and started taking off her robes. 

“You would not believe what happened today!” she said, barely looking at James, who was smiling like a fool. 

“Was it that Cormic fellow?” James asked. Lily gave him a look, expressing her exasperation. 

“I have no idea how he even got this internship!” she said, her robes finding the ground. “He tried to put mercury in a pepper up potion. Literal poison James!”

Lily stepped forward, hugging James tightly. He squeezed her. 

“And when I put a gram of extra valerian root to increase the time of a pain relief potion, I have to write a whole report to justify it so I don’t get fired. I’m sick of it!”

“It’s absolutely not fair love,” James replied as Lily buried her face into his chest. He ran a hand through her hair. “Why don’t you go unwind in a bath, and I’ll take care of dinner, yeah?”

Lily nodded against his chest. Once she was up the stairs, it was go time. 

James quickly went to the kitchen, and lifted the spells that were keeping the smell contained. He knew if Lily smelled his Mum’s special curry when she first got home, she would be suspicious. The treacle tarts, Lily’s favorite, were kept warm in the oven. 

James quietly transformed their living room, dimming the lighting and starting their fireplace instead. He turned their coffee table into a dining room table, and shrunk the couch, placing it on the mantle for it to return to its normal size later. 

Lily was never long for baths, as she hated getting pruney, but he was adjusting the candles on the table when Lily descended down the stairs. 

“James?” she asked, causing him to jump. Lily was standing on the bottom step, nothing but her dressing gown on, which was tied tightly around her waist. 

James felt a lump in his throat as he took her in. She was so gorgeous and even though James had explored every part of her body, he still felt giddy. 

“I thought a romantic evening would be nice,” he said, gesturing around. Lily smiled. 

James went to the stairs and offered her his arm. 

“What is on the menu tonight?” Lily asked, leaning her head on his shoulder for a moment. 

“Euphemia’s special curry and rice, along with a treacle tart dessert,” James said. 

Lily beamed at him as he pulled out her chair. 

It wasn’t until the plates were empty and her dad’s old record player was playing an Elton John record. 

Just as Your Song by Elton John started, James finally mustered up the courage to start speaking. 

“It’s weird how we’ve been together for less than a year,” James said. Lily hummed in question. 

“Why?” she asked, snuggling up to his chest as they swayed back and forth. 

“It feels like we’ve been together forever,” he said. Lily thought quietly for a second. 

“Yeah, I feel that way too,” she said. “It’s weird. How we went from barely standing each other to missing you every second we’re apart.”

“Still can’t believe we thought we could live apart,” he said. Lily laughed again. 

“Won’t happen ever again, that I’m sure of,” she said. James' heart fluttered happily and the weight of the ring in his pocket seemed a thousand times lighter. 

“Living together forever, then?” he asked softly. 

“I plan on it,” she said, confidently. 

James released her. She looked up with questions in her eyes, but they quickly got the answers as James got on one knee. 

“I plan on forever too,” he said, looking at Lily who’s eyes were filled with tears. “We’re not even 19 yet, but Merlin Lily, I can’t wait. I can’t wait to start the rest of our lives together. I just know that you are the only person for me.”

He pulled the ring out of his pocket. It was a family one, but one that his mother had brought from her own family in India. Euphemia had insisted that this was the right for Lily. It was a simple opal ring, with an intricate band.

“Will you marry me?” he asked. 

Lily nodded, words failing her. She practically tackled him to the ground with kisses. 

~~~

Lily’s eyes opened up. She couldn’t identify the source of what woke her up, but as she turned over on her other side, there was no James besides her. It took a second before she heard the creak in the floorboard, coming from Harry’s room. 

She got up, knowing that Harry normally slept through the night with no problem at his age of a year and a half. The last time he woke up in the middle of the night, he was sick. Lily slipped on her slippers and walked down the hallway. 

Standing in front of the window was James’s silhouette, swaying back and forth. She could see Harry on his hip.

“You just wanted someone to cuddle, did you Harry?” she heard James whisper. Lily smiled widely.

James started humming as he rocked Harry back and forth. He pressed kisses to the top of Harry’s head.

Lily stepped forward, the wood creaking beneath her. James turned around. 

“Did we wake you?” James whispered to her as she crossed the room to him. 

“Probably,” she whispered, a smile on her lips. “But it’s fine.”

She wrapped her arms around the side of James that wasn’t holding Harry. She rested her head against his chest, coming face to face with wide green eyes. She joined in on their swaying. 

“Hi Harry,” she whispered, taking the hand that wasn’t wrapped around James to pat Harry’s back. His eyes started to flutter close. 

“He really just wanted to snuggle, huh?” she asked. 

She felt James chuckled. 

“And dance with us,” he said.

[mahixa]

so @maxricciardo messaged me earlier today and maybe possibly probably inspired me to write this cute, fluffy lestappen fic. Listen, she’s great and she deserves to read something nice and comforting about Max after today’s race. And for any of you searching for something sweet and a short fic about the boys being happy together - I hope you will enjoy it as well.

You can read it on ao3 [HERE]

ship: lestappen

word count: 1734

fluff. It’s fluff. Boys kissing. Fluffity fluff. Let there be fluff. Max realises his feelings for Charles and thinks Charles is pretty. We all agree with Max.

The interviewer is someone Max has never seen before during their press conferences. He looks like he could live and survive on drama alone. Beastliness shines dangerously in his eyes and the way he tilts his head before he asks Max the question indicates deviousness.

Max doesn’t like this at all.

“So, Max,” his voice is obnoxious already. “We all know how painfully honest you can be. Let me ask you about Charles Leclerc.”

Something stings Max’s chest. It has been difficult couple of days for Charles, with his bad last racing weekend and a lot of family burden going on right now. The Monegasque, if asked about it, would kindly state that everything is fine and there is nothing to worry about.

But Max knows Charles and he is aware when things become too much for him. And it’s obvious that Charles has his ups and downs. Should anyone be surprised by that? No one. And yet the media keep doing what they do best – they wait for the smallest mistake, the tiniest inconvenience, and they dig deep into the topic. They remind Max of vultures, always ready to find a person during their weak moments and portray such person as the biggest victim possible. A loser. Rend their vulnerable skin and make them bleed for the sake of the headline. Pain them black and white.

For the media everything is zero to one. You either win, or you lose. You drive or you crash. There’s no in between.

And Charles is sitting right next to Max during this press conference, and Max can feel him switching his position uncomfortably as they both hear the begging of question.

“Charles seems to like creating controversy,” the man states the biggest lie Max has heard in a while and dares to continue speaking. “And recently he has been loosing his nerves in the most crucial moments. He is, let’s say, not good under pressure these days. Does it even make him a good driver then?”

Something boils inside Max.

“Does any of it have something to do with the upcoming date of Charles’ father’s death? Should Charles continue to drive during this weekend, or is he a threat to others? Clearly he might be, with his mental condition.”

The conference room goes completely silent.

Max doesn’t take his eyes off of the interviewer. He doesn’t even blink. His gaze must look dangerous enough for everyone to make them to look at him and the man multiple times, anticipating the answer. Max lifts his chin defiantly and squints, and it sends unspoken fulmination all across the room. Someone clears his throat nervously.

“You know,” Max starts, joining his hands together. “I think it takes some fucking audacity to come to this room and say such things about one of the greatest driver of this generation.” Someone gasps in the room and everyone lifts their cameras up. “So you come here, and you have your confidence, and well. You have to be confident, for sure, to ask such dumb questions and state such idiotic statements, clearly not understanding what does it mean to be a normal human in this sport, having better and worse days. So no. Charles is more than the questions about his father, he is more than your silly cheap mind games and neither him, or me, will waste our time on you. And he will drive with us on Sunday. He’s the best person out there when it comes to mental strenght and he doesn’t deserve such crap from the media. So shut up. Next question,” he finishes and points at another man.

His heart is beating incredibly fast and he can hardly hear another question. His mouth is dry, palms sweaty and his legs bouncing nervously.

He does his best to ignore Charles’ stunned look on his face and Lewis’ dropped jaw.

When Max comes back to his hotel room he is exhausted and doesn’t really know why. He has dealt with stupid interviewers on more than one occasion by now, and he thinks he should be able to handle this situation better. Not that he regrets saying what he said.

He just doesn’t know why it caused such him such an emotional response.

Before he can think about it more, there’s a soft knock on the door and there’s only one person who knocks like that.

“Come in, Charles.”

Charles’ smile is small and almost timid, as he enters the room and then looks around. Max smiles to himself, observing a very awkward Charles. As if he wasn’t here yesterday to see the room. And the day before.

“I, eh,” he starts, putting his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I wanted to say thank you, Max.”

Max doesn’t know how to react to his cheeks which turn bright red.

Charles has always been like that. Like that? So like what? Max thinks, forcing himself to finally understand what he has been feeling for so long, searching in his head for the best word to describe the other man.

Lovely. Charles has always been quite lovely, he admits to himself.

That describes Charles pretty well, actually. And now Max thinks about all those moments they shared together, from the early karting days too. Their fights and arguments when they were children, and Charles coming to check on Max after their races. Bringing him his home-made cookies or lemonade, and thanking Max. Or saying he is sorry. And these confessions were always a bit clumsy, always a bit awkward, but the words were always there. Charles might not always look the most confident during moments like this, but he always is there. Ready to speak and be tender when other people hide themselves and run away from confrontation. Charles is ready to say the things Max is often unable to.

Today’s press conference was different, though. It was the first time Max said so many things about Charles. In a room full of people, on top of that – people who were paying attention to his every word. Wasn’t that rather stupid, to go off like that? But that question has to be one of the dumbest and most arrogant he has heard in a long while. And it was about Charles.

No one should ever talk about Charles like that.

Not about Charles. How dare they? Have they ever seen the way he drives? The way he trains? How he can stay under pressure? The way he achieves his goals and keeps his cool even in the most stressful moments?

Have they seen the way Charles smiles? The way he rolls his eyes when he sees something silly or the way he wrinkles his nose when he laughs, but truly, truly laughs? Have they seen the way Charles can’t cook or dance, but he likes to do these things and it makes it even more enjoyable to observe him?

And what about the way Charles sleeps, with his lips slightly parted and his strong chest moving up and down? Or the way he gets excited over the stupidest TV programs Max doesn’t understand, but doesn’t mind when Charles asks him to watch them together, already too fascinated by the way Charles comments on things? And the way he plays the piano. The way he chooses songs and hums to himself when he plays.

The way he sneezes and then apologizes for it. The way Charles can assemble furniture from IKEA, and refuse to use any instruction, but somehow his chaotic energy helps him manage? And Max knows how it looks like.

Because Charles helped him with his furnitures.

Charles has always been there. When Max was sick and didn’t want to take any pills, Charles was there. Brining him his mum’s soup and talking how much he likes the fact that they both live in Monaco now. And when Max got completely wasted in one of those bars they like to go to, it was Charles who helped him get clean from all the unpleasant post-party aspects of the night. And he didn’t complain. He didn’t make a sound. He took off Max’s clothes, leaving him in nothing but his boxers, and helped him shower. He made sure Max made it to bed and he placed a glass of water on his bedside table.

Charles was there when Max won his most important races and he was there to celebrate it with him. He was there when Max argued with his father and when it all looked like a lost cause. He was there to rub soothing circles on Max’s back with his gentle hand and embrace him with his soft voice.

And he always says “thank you” and “I’m sorry” when other people could never do it, for different reasons. Charles has always been brave and able to rise above others. Be a bigger person.

Charles is kind and lovely.

And so damn handsome.

It all makes Max’s head dizzy. The realisation of his feelings washes over him and he has to grab the chair not to stumble. What now?

Charles looks beautiful in his blue hoodie, messy hair and his confused smile. He looks way too soft to remain reasonable or sensible about this.

“Those things you said during the press conference, did you mean them?” he asks, finally breaking the silence between them.

Max nods, coming closer to Charles who doesn’t move away. His eyes are focused on Max’s and he licks his lips.

“I meant every word,” Max says, his voice becoming almost a whisper, as he moves even closer and cups Charles’ face with his hand. “Jesus, Charles.”

Charles closes his eyes at the contact and breathes in through his nose. He looks stunning and Max is mesmerised.

“Kiss me,” Charles whispers, not opening his eyes. “Please.”

Max feels like melting. He slowly cups Charles’ face with both his hands.

“Look at me,” Max whispers back, and when Charles opens his eyes slightly, Max places a kiss on Charles’ forehead.

Then on his cheek. And then the other.

And then they kiss. They kiss and kiss and kiss, Charles’ arms around Max’s shoulders and Max’s hands on Charles’ waist. It’s the softest thing to kiss Charles, his lips eager and opened and lovely, lovely, so, so lovely, and warm.

Max moves them around the room so Charles can fall on the bed, and as soon as he does, Max climbs on top of him. The way Charles’ reaches out for him, the way he holds him closer, kissing him harder and deeper – that definitely goes on top of “the different ways of Charles Leclerc” list Max has made.

And Charles is beautiful under his touch, and he glows like a golden, Autumn sun, and he sounds like the softest, warm melody.

“I meant every word,” Max says between kisses and touches, between moans and sighs. “Every word.”

[moralesispunk]

Between the sheets

Chapter 5 of the Caramel Latte series

Chapter 4 / masterlist here / chapter 6

Summary: the morning after sharing confessions of love, Marcus begins to worry that you regret the night before.

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), penetrative sex, soft smut

A/N: thank you so much for the patience for this chapter! It took me a while to find time to sit down and properly right and edit!

Mornings in the Moreno house were usually quiet. You had noticed this after your first few times staying here when Marcus, who was usually so composed would moan like a small child who was being woken for school before his first cup of coffee. Missy was definitely her father’s daughter, the same glum look on her face for the first hour out of bed.

This morning, you woke surrounded by blankets and pillows and the two snoring Moreno’s still in dream land. Marcus’s arm was draped across your middle, weighing you down to the pillows underneath. You lifted his arm carefully, moving slowly from underneath, before padding to the kitchen and turning on the coffee machine.

As you waited to the mug to fill you sat at the kitchen counter, your mind wandering to the night before. While there was something so domestic about this moment, sitting in the kitchen in your pyjamas waiting for the coffee to pour as the man you loved and his daughter you cared so deeply for were still sound asleep in the next room, you couldn’t stop the weighted feel at the bottom of your stomach.

You knew from the moment you said yes to a date with Marcus that a relationship with him would not be easy to navigate. He was a widowed, single father who had already lived a life before meeting you, while you were younger by the best part of ten years and a string of bad relationships meaning you hadn’t quite lived the family life you thought you would have by now. You loved Marcus and you loved Missy but you weren’t sure what life Marcus wanted from here on or even where you fit into their family.

You were so in your own thoughts you hadn’t heard the sound of Marcus walking into the kitchen, not noticing his presence until his hands were wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder. You jumped a little and he chuckled against your neck before pressing a kiss.

“Morning, honey.”

“Morning, sleepy,” you turned your head to press a soft kiss against his lips.

You turned in the kitchen stool to watch as Marcus walked over to the coffee machine. His hair was standing in all different directions and his eyes were still half shut as he rubbed one with the heel of his hand. You liked waking up to Marcus like this, in his sleep shorts and t-shirt, his hair messy from sleep and his eyes still not quite awake to the morning sun, straining to see without his glasses. This wasn’t to say he wasn’t just as handsome when he was dressed smarter for work. Some mornings when he had to be up before you he would lean over the bed to give you a kiss good morning, the smell of his clean aftershave filling your senses before his lips had pressed against your head. You didn’t enjoy seeing him like that any less but when he wasn’t quiet awake to the world yet you couldn’t stop your chest from warming at the softness.

You hadn’t noticed you were lost in your own thoughts again until you noticed Marcus staring at you, one eyebrow raised a little.

“What was that?”

He chuckled before lifting the mug you had placed under the coffee machine out, “Where’s your head this morning? The coffee is cold already.”

“Oh,” you stood from the stool and walked to take the mug from his hand, pouring the now cold coffee out, “sorry.”

You placed the mug back under the machine, reaching to grab another from the cupboard for Marcus. The machine buzzed to life again, pouring two new fresh coffees as you leaned against the worktop next to Marcus.

“What were you so lost in your thoughts about then, hm?” Marcus moved you to stand in front of him between his legs that were stretched out as he leaned against the worktop. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you into his chest.

“Just… us,” you sighed looking up at Marcus and upon seeing his raised eyebrow you continued, “how happy I am but also how worried about how happy I am.”

You looked back down again, playing with the bottom of his t-shirt as you didn’t know how to word whatever it was you were feeling inside. You felt you had to tread that much more carefully with Marcus than with previous relationships. You wanted him to know that you were happy with this relationship, that you didn’t care he was a single dad and that didn’t change how you were feeling, but you didn’t want to overstep. Marcus’s hand came under your chin, tilting you back up to face him.

“That… doesn’t make sense. What do you-”

Marcus was interrupted by the sound of Missy now joining you in the kitchen, her footsteps dragging as she moved to sit at the kitchen table.

“We can talk later,” you smiled up at Marcus in an attempt to reassure his racing mind, standing on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek before lifting your fresh cups of coffee to the table.

Marcus followed behind, with bowls, milk and cereal.

You were glad that breakfasts were usually quiet, not having to pretend to concentrate on what was going on while your mind still raced at your worries of the morning. You could feel Marcus’s eyes on you, watching when you stared into space every so often before you would turn and give him a smile. He tried to smile back but it didn’t quite reach his eyes as he hoped that whatever was on your mind wasn’t regret at admitting your love to one another the night before.

“Am I still going to Grandma’s today?” Missy’s voice came from between you both.

“Yeah, you can go get ready after breakfast,” Marcus turned to face her.

After finishing up, the three of you moved around clearing the table before you went upstairs for a shower. As the hot water hit your body you felt your shoulders relax and your mind ease. You trusted Marcus would understand what you were finding so hard to describe. He seemed to know you better than yourself.

You stepped out the shower, wrapping a towel around your body before wrapping your hair in another. After drying your body, you shook your hair in the towel, removing any water droplets before walking into the attached bedroom.

You noticed as you walked out the way your toothbrush sat next to Marcus’s in the holder, how your shampoo and conditioner was sat on the edge of the bath next to his, your moisturisers and other creams next to his hair moose. You walked by the drawers that were now full of your clothes and the table at the side of the bed where sat your book and phone charger.

On the bed, Marcus was sitting at the edge playing with his hands. When he heard the door click open his head shot up, watching you closely as you moved to sit next to him on the bed.

“Missy at her gran’s?”

“Yeah, my mum just picked her up there.”

You watched as Marcus’s eyes desperately searched your face, his lips parted slightly as he looked for any hint at what was wrong.

“Nothings wrong Marcus,” you reached over and grabbed his hands in yours, “I promise.”

“So, you don’t regret last night?”

“No,” you laughed softly, “not in the slightest. I love you, Marcus. I have known I have for a while I’m glad I finally admitted it to you.”

“Then what have you been thinking about?” he moved to turn his body to face you properly.

“I am so happy but I’m worried something will ruin this happiness. I do love you, Marcus, more than I thought was possible if I’m being honest. I love waking up to you even when you’re grumpy and going to sleep next to you after spending a day with you. I love how special you make me feel every day. I love how good a dad you are and I love Missy too. But you’ve had a life before me, you’ve made this family home that I’ve slowly started encroaching on,” you looked around the room at your items scattering the room, “we haven’t discussed where this is going or what you’re looking for and I’m worried one day I go further than you want or- or,”

“Or that I wont go as far as you want,” Marcus finished for you.

“Yeah,” you sighed.

“Well, I guess we better talk about,” Marcus smiled, lifting your head towards him by you chin. “I did have a life before you but you had a life before me in your own way. I was married and I had Missy. I loved my wife but that doesn’t mean I can’t love you because I do, just as much but in a different way because you are different. Us,” he moved his hand back down to squeeze your hand, “doesn’t mean any less to me because of what has happened before in my life. In fact it means more because you’ve accepted that. Accepted me and Missy. Also, you aren’t encroaching on this home because I want you here and so does Missy.”

You couldn’t stop the tears that quietly fell down your cheeks as he spoke gently to you, washing away whatever worries you had with every word he spoke. He softly hushed you as he pulled you into his side with an arm around your shoulder, placing a kiss to your head as he rubbed his thumb over your shoulder.

“What do you see in your future? Before me, what did you want?” he asks.

“I- marriage I guess. A family, the usual,” you turned to lean into his side even more.

“I know we haven’t been together that long but do you not see that with me?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted that. You’ve already been married and have Missy…”

“Well, you’ve never asked,” you could hear the smile in his voice without even having to look up again, “I would get married again,” he gives your shoulders a squeeze, “and I love being a Dad I would do that again too. Obviously, if Missy was comfortable with it but I don’t think she wouldn’t be, so long as she trusted I had the right partner by my side. She loves you too, you know.”

“You think?” you sniffed.

“I know.”

You looked up at him, your smiling boyfriend looking back down at you.

“I love you, Marcus.”

“And I love you.”

His head dipped down as his lips found yours. Your mouths moved against each other gently before his tongue found yours and suddenly you were breathless against one another. He pulled away and you sighed as he stood at the end of the bed, holding his hand out for you to take it. He pulled you to stand with him before his hand reached for your towel tied around your chest. When you nodded he pulled it apart, letting it drop to the floor.

His eyes dragged down your body, noticing every curve and drip of your skin, every freckle that marked your skin. As he took his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes flicked back up to yours now darker than before as a smirk toyed on his lips. You lifted your hands to pull at the bottom of his t-shirt, his arms lifting to allow you to lift it over his head and drop it on the floor next to your towel.

You stood on your toes as you attached your lips to his again, hungrier than before. He grabbed you by the back of the thighs, lifting you onto the bed and lying you carefully on the pillows at the top of the bed. He moved to kneel between your thighs. His hands dragged down your sides and thighs before resting above your knees.

“You are so beautiful,” he sighed, making you blush, “you are.”

He leaned down, kissing just above your belly button and whispering I love you into your skin. He repeated this, kissing down your stomach and each thigh before resting between your legs. His eyes found yours looking down at him and he reached for your hands, holding them in his on top of your stomach as he continued kissing and nuzzling his nose against the inside of your thighs. When you started to squirm below him, unable to stop your thighs from pressing together any longer in attempt to release some of the pressure pooling at the bottom of your stomach, he rested his head on your thigh and looked up at you with a lazy smile before moving to lick up your folds before attaching his mouth to your clit.

You gasped and your head hit back against the pillows, unable to stop the moans that fell from your mouth. You forced your head to lift slightly, looking back down at Marcus between your legs. His eyes were still on you, his lips smiling slightly before he want back to gently licking and sucking at you. He felt the way your legs tensed by the side of his head and knowing you were getting close his thumb began to stroke over the back of your hand. He moved one of his hands away, pressing two fingers slowly inside to feel the way you would tense around him.

Your back arched off the bed, moaning his name at the feeling. He moved his head away to rest on your thigh for a moment, his thumb circling your clit for a moment.

“Cum for me,” he sighed before attaching his lips back to you.

With those words you did. You let the wave wash over your whole body as it tensed around him. He kept his tongue moving against you as you rode our your high before your hands gently pushed his head back when you couldn’t take anymore.

“Good girl,” he moaned as he kissed once on the inside of each of your thighs.

You reached for his shoulder, grabbing to pull him up towards you. He moved to kneel, pulling his shorts down and letting his hard cock spring free. Your mouth fell open as you watched the pre-cum drip down his length. He leaned forward, resting a forearm at the side of your head before moving the shorts down the rest of his legs before kicking them off the bed..

Your hands reached up, holding the side of his face to bring it down to kiss him deeply. He held his cock at your entrance, slowly pushing in and causing both of you to break apart in a moan. His head fell against your forehead as his free hand wrapped around your thigh to pull it around his waist. His hips stilled for a moment until you begged him to move and he started slowly thrusting into you as he lifted his head to now rest against your forehead.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you,” you whispered back.

You moved your other leg to wrap around his waist, holding your heels against the bottom of his back as he thrusted in. They were slow and deep, hitting the right spot each time causing you to gasp. He kept his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Marcus, I think I’m go- Im gonna cum again,” you moaned.

“Cum for me, let me feel you,” he begged, keeping his thrusts at the same rhythm.

Your toes curled as your second orgasm of the night came, even bigger than the first. His name fell from your lips like a prayer along with moans of how much you loved him. Your hands gripped tight to his shoulders, your nails digging in until you came down from your high. He felt the way you tightened around him, holding his cock in place for a moment making him groan.

Marcus’s thrusts started becoming faster, losing their rhythm as he neared his own peak.

“I love you, I love you, I love you,” he moaned with every thrust until he came undone inside you as his lips attached to yours in a deep kiss, thrusting a few more times until he collapsed in your arms while still inside you.

His head is buried in your neck before he pulls out and collapses back onto your chest. Your hands reach up and play with his hair, combing through the short curls at the back of his neck. His breathing falls into steady breaths as you feel him grow heavy on top of you.

You know you will have to wake him soon so you both can clean up, but just for a while you hold him like this. You listen to his steady breathing and notice the feel of his curls between your fingers. You let yourself be with the man you love, in his home that is slowly becoming yours too, with no worries in your mind.

//

Marcus tag // @heythere-mel @over300books @computeringturtle @a-skov @leias-rebelion 

Permanent tag // @phoenixhalliwell @asta-lily @hb8301 @princess76179 @sarahjkl82-blog 

[entertainment]

Entertainment Spotlight: Sherry Cola, Good Trouble

You may recognize comedian, actress, and writer Sherry Cola as Alice in Freeform’s Good Trouble. Additional TV credits include jewelry maker Natalie on I Love Dick, special agent Lucy Chen on Claws, and the iconic Lil’ Tasty. On the big screen, she can be seen in the upcoming Endings, Beginnings with Shailene Woodley, Jamie Dornan, and Sebastian Stan, and in the indie Sick Girl with Nina Dobrev and Wendi McLendon-Covey. No stranger to ambition in comedy, Sherry is also a successful stand-up comedian, performing regularly at The Laugh Factory, The Improv, and The Comedy Store. Sherry took a few minutes to chat with us about comedy, Good Trouble, and more. Check it out:

What is your experience of portraying comedy-aspiring first-generation Asian-American Alice? Can you talk about any similarities or differences between you?

I’m grateful to play a character that I never saw on TV when I was growing up. The deeper we get into filming these episodes, the more I realize how much it’s been missing. From speaking Mandarin to her best friend/ex-lover to diving into stand-up as a queer Asian female, Alice’s journey is so specific and overdue. Alice is adorably apologetic and she’s still finding her voice.

I’d say I’m more outspoken than she is, but we’re also similar in people-pleasing to the point of getting us in trouble. I heavily relate to Alice because I also have an immigrant mother who wasn’t well-versed about the LGBTQ+ world at first, but the more we show these stories on the screen, the more we can open minds!

Can you tell us about any funny or wholesome moments on the set of Good Trouble?

The scene in the pool for Malika’s birthday was super fun. It was almost 4 AM, and we’d already been floating in the water for 2 hours. I gotta give it up to our incredible crew for nailing all the messy shots of people jumping/falling in. It was hilarious being in that cloudy, chlorine-less human soup, just splashin’ around like little kids. Our entire cast adores each other so we’re always in good company. It’s a celebration when we have those big group moments.

Do you have a routine before you go up on stage to do stand-up? What is it, and how did you come up with it?

I do lots and lots of breathing because I’m nervous right before I hop on stage, no matter what. I also get very thirsty so I find myself going to the bar last-minute to get water. This happens every single time. I never think ahead and have the water prepared! I look over my jokes to remember which ones I wanna do. Then when I get up there, the throwing-up feeling disappears and I’m on cloud nine!

What is something you wish people knew about being a comedian in the industry as it is today?

Sometimes people take comedians too lightly. We deserve more props! There’s heavy stuff happening behind that microphone. We have the power to educate and touch the audience, in an almost brain-washy fashion, but not in a bad way. I can use jokes to shine a light on something like climate change, and people will walk away with a new perspective. Pretty cool!

If you could give any character on Good Trouble some advice, who would it be and what would you tell them?

This is the first time I’m officially saying this, but I’m team Callie and Gael. Y’all have something special, damn it! The fiery chemistry! It was spicy, but also tender...like a chicken nugget! Please give it another try and make some perfect babies!

Can you tell us a funny joke?

I saw this on a popsicle stick when I was in elementary school, and I’ll never forget it:

Q: What did the girl melon say to the boy melon after he proposed? 

A: We’re too young, we cantaloupe!

What advice would you give to your ten-year-old self?

STAY TRUE TO WHO YOU ARE! Things that made me self-conscious back then like non-American food that I’d take to school, or the fact that I never wore make-up, and just the general vibe of being unordinary - now I fully embrace it!

Who do you look up to?

I can’t even count on my fingers/toes/teeth/strands of hair how many people I look up to! From Sandra Oh to Lena Waithe… I have respect for all women of color who are pushing the culture forward. They motivate me to keep going so I can make just as strong of an impact.

Who inspires you?

My mom inspires the hell out of me. She came to this country and busted her ass off to make sure I have a comfortable life. Money means nothing compared to the feeling of making her proud. I get all my work ethic from her, from giving 110% to the importance of being on time, so she gets all the credit!

Can you tell us how Lakers-loving, jersey-wearing, Timberland-rocking Lil’ Tasty came about?

Lil’ Tasty is dear to my heart! She was a viral queen in 2016 because she was a breath of fresh air who said the most darn things. My friends Adam Episcopo and Rick Schaberg started a mockumentary-style series on Facebook called “Luber” which showed the lives of drivers who got rejected from Lyft/Uber. They asked me to create a character and naturally, as a lover of hip-hop, I knew this girl had to come equipped with obnoxious freestyle raps. Then I found an old Kobe jersey in my closet (RIP to the GOAT) and the rest was history. We shot these silly videos on a whim. We never expected to hit millions of views. Since then, Lil’ Tasty has built quite a fanbase, and I still have some things up my sleeve, so stay tuned!

If you could wake up as one of your characters tomorrow, who would it be, and why?

Waking up as Nuocki Mum would be dope. She’s an older Vietnamese lady who tries to keep up with the times. She’s completely oblivious but means well. She hits the nightclubs every weekend to stay young. I wouldn’t mind that!

Thanks for taking the time, Sherry! Check out the Good Trouble Tumblr for more.

Photos: Storm Santos

[wonderful-writes]

Oooh! For the Charlie Weasley prompt list, 5, 8, and 14, where the reader and charlie have lowkey had feelings for each other for a long time, but then he went to Romania, but finally the reader is about to go into their last year, and they're spending summer at the burrow when Charlie comes back and they talk about being together after the reader graduates

Next Year

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Summary: You had always been close to the Weasley family, and the second-oldest, dragon-loving brother was no exception. He was a few years ahead of you, tall, funny, and ruggedly handsome — all that you could ever want in a boy. It was a shame he didn’t feel the same way. But could one summer together at the Burrow change all that?

Prompts:

5) There’s always next year.

8) I never forgot you.

14) Is that my jumper?

“Y/N! Y/N! Over here!”

You turned to see Ginny Weasley calling to you from the entrance of the Burrow. At her side was a broom and a dustpan. Mrs. Weasley had probably asked her to sweep the front porch.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed, running over to her. You had apparated to the Burrow with nothing but a small suitcase, so it didn’t take long for you to reach her.

“Oh, I’ve missed you so much!” the young red-headed girl gushed as she pulled you into a hug.

“Where is everybody?” you asked when she finally let go of you.

“Percy, Ron, and Harry are upstairs cleaning the bedrooms with Mum,” Ginny answered. “Hermione was helping me out here, but she went inside to grab paper towels for the windows.”

“And Fred and George?”

“They went out with Charlie. I’m not sure when they’ll be back.”

“Charlie’s here?” you asked in surprise. “I thought you said he wasn’t coming. In your letter.”

“Huh, I probably made a mistake,” she said. “I meant to write that Bill wasn’t coming home this summer, not Charlie.”

“Oh,” you said. Part of you was excited to see Charlie again, but another part of you dreaded it. You hadn’t seen him since the end of your fifth year at Hogwarts, an entire year ago. You had finished your fifth year when he finished his seventh, and he headed straight for Romania after that. He had left immediately after graduation, not even staying to spend one more summer with you.

It was not like he had any reason to spend another summer with you. You were only a family friend, after all. The Weasleys had loads of family friends, and you were no different. Charlie probably thought of you like he did Harry or Hermione. But you couldn’t help but wish that he thought of you as something more than that.

You were heartbroken when he left, but you didn’t let it show. You spent that summer with your family, who missed you dearly when you were away at school. You had a happy time, taking trips and enjoying the company of those you love, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that Charlie was gone.

When fall came, you returned to Hogwarts to begin your sixth year. You had school to occupy you — and you were very busy with that, being your studious and ambitious self — but you never let go of the memory of Charlie Weasley. You often looked back at why you fell for him in the first place.

You had met in your first year and his third. As members of the same house, you saw each other frequently and became fast friends. Over the years, you became acquainted with the rest of the Weasley siblings and grew to consider them your second family. You spent parts of your school breaks at the Burrow, and your muggle parents became close friends with the Weasleys as well. It was hard not to fall for Charlie when you were constantly around him and his wonderful family.

Though he was two years older than you, he treated you like an equal, not like some bothersome younger sister. He was kind and respectful and had a love for animals. In your mind, he was perfect. But you never had the courage to tell him so. You were always too embarrassed about your crush and too scared that your feelings wouldn’t be reciprocated. He never showed any signs that he fancied you, so why would you humiliate yourself by admitting that you fancied him?

“I’ll take that for you, dear,” someone said, breaking you from your thoughts. You looked up to see that Arthur Weasley had come out of the house and was reaching for your suitcase.

“Thanks, Mr. Weasley!” you said, handing over the suitcase. “I assume I’ll be staying in Bill’s room since he’s not here?”

“Sure are,” he replied. “He’s been so busy at Gringotts. They just shipped him out to Egypt not even a week ago.” Mr. Weasley smiled broadly, clearly proud of his son.

“Wow, Egypt?” you marvel. “Bill must be some curse-breaker.”

“He sure is,” said Molly Weasley, joining the throng conversing on the front steps. “Hello, Y/N. How are you, dear?”

You stepped into Mrs. Weasley’s outstretched arms and told her that you had never been better. School was swell, your friends were keeping you sane, and there was nothing getting you down. She seemed happy at your reply and led the way back into the house.

Inside, you greeted Ron, Hermione, Harry and Percy. Unlike Ginny, whom you haven’t seen since Christmas holiday, you saw the four the them at school everyday. Percy was a year younger than you, and Ron, Harry, and Hermione were itty bitty soon-to-be second years. You were happy that Ginny would be starting at Hogwarts in the fall. Your last year would be her first, but at least you could go to school with her for one year.

For the rest of the day, you helped the family tidy up the house and prepare supper. When evening rolled around, Charlie, Fred, and George returned from wherever it was they went to. Fred and George said hello to you first, before heading upstairs to work on a new prank idea. Charlie was the last to approach you.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said. “Long time, no see.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, looking up at him. He hadn’t changed a bit. Same messy red hair, same freckles dotting his face. He was as handsome as ever. You quickly looked away, feeling the heat creep up your neck. The last thing you wanted was to out yourself on having a crush on Charles Weasley, especially in front of Charlie himself and his family.

“Hey, Y/N!” called Ron. “Wanna play a game of chess before dinner?”

“Sure,” you answer gratefully. You wanted any excuse to distance yourself from Charlie. Being around him only intensified your feelings for him.

After a heated round of chess, which Ron, the strategic genius, obviously won, Mrs. Weasley announced that dinner was ready. Everyone took their seats at the table, you squeezing yourself in between George and Ginny. To your dismay, Charlie chose the chair directly across from you.

He flashed you a smile. You smiled back weakly before quickly looking down at your plate. Act normal, you told yourself. When you still went to school with Charlie, you had gotten the same nervous, fluttery feeling whenever you were around him. After he left to pursue his dream job in Romania, he wasn’t nearby to make your stomach do somersaults anymore. It had been a full year since you felt this dizzying feeling, and now it was all rushing back to you.

“You okay, Y/N?” asked Hermione, who was sitting next to Charlie.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why aren’t you eating?”

You looked around and quickly realized that everyone had already piled food on top of their plates, but yours was still empty. How long had you been sitting there?

“Right,” you said as you picked up a serving spoon, about to dish mashed potatoes onto your plate. “I was thinking about someone, and I guess I zoned out for a bit.”

Hermione raised her eyebrow at you. “Who were you thinking about?”

You froze. You replayed your words and realized that you had accidentally said you were thinking about someone instead of something.

“Did I say someone?” you asked with a laugh, attempting to pass off your error as a simple mistake. “I meant something.”

“Sure you did,” Ginny teased, winking at you.

You rolled your eyes at her. You acted as if it was all a joke, but you were dying of embarrassment on the inside. You hoped you weren’t being too obvious.

“Pass me the green beans, Y/LN,” Charlie said.

You felt your face burning as you handed over the green beans. Even though you didn’t touch him, extending your hand that close to his sent electricity through you.

“Thank you,” Charlie said cheekily.

You spared him a glance, flashing him a smile. You were trying to act as casual as possible, but it was difficult when your stomach churned every time you looked at him. There was no denying to yourself that you were crushing hard.

After dinner was done, you helped Mrs. Weasley wash up. When everything was cleaned and put away, you headed over to the living room, where Fred, George, and Charlie were playing cards around the coffee table. Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny were talking upstairs, Percy was in his room reading, and the Weasley parents had decided to retire for the night.

“Can I play?” you asked, taking a seat next to Fred.

“Sure,” he answered, not looking up from his deck. “Next game.”

“So, where did you guys go earlier today?” you questioned.

“We just went to town,” George replied nonchalantly. “Fred and I needed to get some stuff for our next prank, and Charlie offered to take us.”

You hummed in response. It made you feel warm inside to know that Charlie was so attentive with his siblings. Family was very important to you, and you were glad it was important to him as well. Just another reason for you to fall even harder for him. Godric, why did he have to be so perfect?

The boys continued to play. The game finally ended when both Fred and Charlie ran out of cards, leaving George the winner. You began picking up the cards and shuffling them, preparing to deal them to everyone.

Before you could complete your task, however, George interrupted. “Actually, Fred and I are going upstairs to work on our new idea.”

Giving them a wave goodbye, you watched as the two younger boys got up from the coffee table and headed upstairs.

“You and me?” Charlie asked, a mischievous smile on his face

“Sure,” you replied.

You handed him his cards, and the two of you began to play. You were both concentrated on the game, and the only noise that could be heard was the sound of cards slapping on the table.

“So, how have you been?” Charlie asked, trying to make conversation.

“I’ve been good,” you responded. “You?”

“Never been better. Working at the dragon sanctuary has been a dream come true.”

You were genuinely happy to hear that he loved his job and his new life. Although, you wished you could be a bigger part of it. Charlie wasn’t much of a writer, and he hardly sent letters to his family, let alone his friends. You had written to him once when he was away, and he had responded. That was the extent of your communication over the last year. You didn���t bother to send another letter, fearing coming off as clingy or obsessed. When he failed to write to you again, you knew you had made the right decision.

“Wanna tell me more about Romania?” you asked, setting your cards down.

“Sure!” he answered enthusiastically. “But can we sit on the couch? My bum is sore from sitting on the floor.”

The two of you moved to the sofa and sat about a foot away from each other. He told you all about his experiences working with dragons. He went into detail about the training process, the proper way to handle a baby dragon, and the different breeds he got to study. You smiled as he talked, enjoying the way his eyes lit up whenever he discussed something he was passionate about.

“So, what about you?” he asked finally. “What have you been up to?”

“Well, I just finished my sixth year, which you already knew,” you said. “I aced most of my exams, I was invited into the Slug Club, and I’m currently working towards becoming Head Girl.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Charlie said. “You must be proud of yourself.”

“I am proud. Exhausted, but proud. Sometimes I wonder how I got this far. I look back at all the hard work I put in and still can’t figure out how I managed to do all that.”

“You’re pretty incredible,” said Charlie. “If anyone could accomplish that much, it would be you.” He paused. “Well, maybe also Percy. He’s a know-it-all.”

You blushed at his compliment. “Thanks, Charlie.” When you first told him about your achievements, you were worried he would think you were bragging. But his kind words put your fears at ease, reassuring you that it was okay to be happy for yourself and to want to share your goals and successes with others.

“You know, we should keep in touch more when I go back to Romania,” he said.

“Agreed. We hardly exchanged two letters in the past year.”

Charlie smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, I sort of didn’t write to anyone at all. I mean, unless they wrote to me first.”

“It’s alright,” you reassured him. “You were probably too busy taming dragons or something,” you teased.

“I never forgot you,” he said, as if he had to make sure you knew his lack of communication wasn’t personal.

You felt your breath hitch. You knew he was probably only saying because he felt guilty for not sending letters to someone who obviously wanted to, but you secretly wished he had meant something more by those words. Did he miss you when he was away? Or did he just feel bad for cutting off a family friend who was desperate for company? Could he sense how you felt about him?

“I know,” you said. “You don’t have to feel bad for not writing. I know it’s nothing against me.” You really hoped he didn’t pity you or think you were pathetic. Your Gryffindor confidence truly gave out on you when you were around him.

“I-it’s not that,” he stammered. “It’s just, well, um.”

“It’s just what?” you questioned. Since when did Charlie Weasley get so tongue-tied?

“I, uh, I want you to know that I never forgot about you,” he finally spitted out, red in the face. “You’re, you’re different to me.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Was Charlie Weasley, the boy you’ve been swooning over for years, confessing his feelings for you?

“Different how?” you asked, wanting him to get to the point. You needed to know how he felt about you, but you were slightly afraid of the outcome. What if it was all a misunderstanding? What if you had been reading the situation wrong, and he didn’t actually have feelings for you?

“Well, you’re like a friend,” Charlie began slowly. He seemed to have regained his natural confidence and composure. “But more than that.”

You stared at him, unable to speak.

“You’re like family,” he went on, “but I don’t see you as my sister or anything like that. I see you more as someone I could fancy, or rather, someone I do fancy.”

You were dumbstruck. The boy you were head-over-heels for actually liked you back. He had said it himself. He fancied you. No one else, you.

“Could you please say something?” Charlie asked.

You looked down to see him fidgeting with his hands. Was he really that anxious? The calmest person you knew was nervous around you?

“I can’t believe you just said that,” you said, looking him in the eyes. Those gorgeous brown eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, turning red again. “Forget I said anything.”

“No, no, it’s not like that!” you hurriedly told him. “I like you, too.”

“You do?” he asked, breaking into a grin that could make you melt into the ground.

“Yes, I do. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I never had the courage to say anything. I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

“Same here,” Charlie admitted. “I’ve liked you for a while, but it felt wrong of me to say so. You are my friend, after all. Plus, you’re two years younger than me.”

You nodded in agreement. You often questioned if it would be wrong to date someone who wasn’t your age. Would people think weirdly of you and Charlie if the two of you were in a relationship? Would either of you get in trouble?

You couldn’t help yourself from asking, “How long have you liked me for?” You were still flabbergasted and didn’t think you’d ever get over the news.

“Well, I’m not sure. Maybe since my sixth year? Although, it could’ve been before that. We were always such close friends that I didn’t notice when platonic feelings started to turn into something more.”

You nodded in understanding. “I get it. Although, I can’t say it was the same for me. My feelings for you weren’t gradual like that. I knew I liked you all at once. From the moment we first met, actually.”

“Oh, did you?” he teased. “Did you find me that charming?”

“Oh, shut it, you git,” you said while rolling your eyes at him. It felt nice to banter with him without the awkward tension from before. Knowing that he shared your feelings made it easier for you to talk to him.

“So, what now?” Charlie asked you. “Are we dating or...?”

“Well, you have to ask me out first, don’t you?” you said playfully, trying to hide your smile.

He let out a loud sigh. “If I must.”

“Go on,” you said with a smirk. You had missed his goofy side when you were apart from him.

“Y/N Y/LN, will you go out with me?” he asked dramatically.

You rolled your eyes again. “Yes, you doof. I will go out with you.”

He beamed. “Brilliant!”

You smiled back at him, reaching for his hands. You gripped his hands in yours and looked into his eyes. Those soft, brown eyes that never failed to make you weak in the knees.

“But what will your family think?” you questioned, finally breaking his gaze.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Will your family be okay with this?”

“I’ve, uh, already told my parents about you,” you said sheepishly. “They’ve known I liked you for a long time, so they won’t have a problem with us dating. It’s your family I’m worried about.”

Charlie nodded. “Maybe we shouldn’t tell them? Not now, at least?”

“That would probably be best,” you agreed. “I don’t particularly want to deal with their judgement right now.”

Just then, the thudding of footsteps coming down the stairs could be heard.

“Charlie, Y/N, it’s bedtime!” Ron called from the landing. “Mum told me to tell you!”

“We’re coming, Ron!” Charlie shouted back. He turned to you. “So, I guess we’re keeping this a secret?”

“Guess so.”

That night, you couldn’t sleep as you laid in bed. You didn’t have to share Bill’s room with anybody, so you were utterly alone with your thoughts. Part of you was too excited to sleep. You couldn’t believe you were dating Charlie Weasley, the boy of your dreams. But part of you was also terrified of what the Weasleys would say once they found out. You already knew they liked you; you had been a friend of their children for a long time. And Charlie was their own son. But would a relationship be too much?

Aside from your worries about Charlie’s family, thoughts about how to make a relationship with him work also occupied your mind. He would be returning to the dragon reserve in Romania at the end of the summer, and you would be starting your last year at Hogwarts. Would you break up? Would you do long-distance? How would you make it work?

The next morning, everything proceeded as usual. You had breakfast with the Weasleys, along with Ron and Hermione, of course, and helped with the dishes afterward. You spent the rest of the day spending time with everyone, particularly Charlie. The two of you snuck off whenever you could, but it was difficult finding time to be alone with so many people at the Burrow.

The rest of the summer went accordingly. You spent your days playing games with the younger children, helping Mr. and Mrs. Weasley around the house, and enjoying quiet moments with Charlie. During your time alone, the two of you talked, made plans, and fell deeper in love with each other. You were infatuated with him, and he felt the same about you. Both of you dreaded the end of the summer, when you would eventually have to part ways.

You would miss the hot nights laying in the field, counting fireflies together. You would miss the sweet way you held each other’s hands underneath the dinner table. You would miss the rise and fall of his chest when he had fallen asleep on the banks of the nearby pond after a long afternoon of splashing around. You would miss the blush that crept up his cheeks when you caught him staring at you when he thought you weren’t looking. You would miss him, everything about him.

The last day of summer crept closer and closer. Before you knew it, it was your final night at the Burrow. You were set to leave with Percy, Ron, Harry, Hermione, and Ginny early the next morning. A part of you was excited to finally start your last year at Hogwarts, knowing that this would bring you another step closer to your adult life. Some days, there was nothing you wanted more than to be done with school and to start working in the wizarding world. You weren’t sure if you wanted to be a healer or an auror or some other profession, but you knew you wanted to make a difference and do good things for others. But another part of you was saddened. You didn’t want to leave the warmth and comfort of the Burrow. You didn’t want the carefree summer days to be nothing but a distant memory. And you didn’t want your blossoming relationship with Charlie to come to a close either.

It was past midnight, and you were the only one awake. Having had trouble falling asleep, you had gone down to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water. After downing your drink, you had decided to perch on the sofa to contemplate your current situation. Physically, you were exhausted from a long day of frolicking in the fields and slinging rocks into the pond, the perfect end to the perfect summer. Mentally, you were restless as thoughts ran wild through your head. What would happen when you returned to school and Charlie went back to Romania? Your body was telling you to sleep, but your mind was keeping you up. You would be able to sleep on the train the next day, anyway.

“Y/N?” a voice sounded through the silence. “Why are you up?”

You broke free of your thoughts and glanced up to see Charlie staring back at you from the foot of the stairs.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged. “Went down for some water and decided to sit here.”

Charlie grinned before plopping down next to you. “Well, then, I’m glad I happened to wake up just now. We can have one more moment together before we both leave tomorrow.”

You smiled back at him. “I think one more moment with you is just what I need right now.”

“What’s on your mind, love?” he asked as he draped his arm around you.

You snuggled closer to his side. “Nothing much. I was just thinking about us. What’s going to happen after tomorrow?”

You peered into Charlie’s eyes and found that he looked utterly content, relaxed even. Was he not fazed by the idea of having to leave you?

“Well, you’re going back to school,” he began, “and I’m going back to the sanctuary.”

“But what about us?”

“We’ll do long-distance, I guess,” he answered with a shrug. “I don’t want to break up or anything.”

You smiled at that and leaned up to give him a peck on the cheek. You were glad he wasn’t too worried. It eased your nerves to see how well he was handling this. “I don’t want to break up either. But you better write me, you git.”

Charlie smirked. “Alright, I’ll write you.”

You punched him playfully. “You better.”

The two of you stayed on the couch for a while, just enjoying being close to each other. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his steady heartbeat. Its rhythmic pounding soothed you, let you know that everything was going to be okay.

“Hey, is that my jumper?” Charlie finally spoke, gesturing to knitted red garment you wore.

You grinned sheepishly, looking down at the jumper that hung oversized on you. “I wanted to have a piece of you before we go our separate ways. I didn’t think you’d miss it too much. You have a bunch of them.”

“You can keep it, love,” he said with a grin. “It looks better on you anyway.”

“Thanks, Charlie,” you replied happily. You knew he wouldn’t have minded you taking his jumper, but it was nice to hear him say it himself. Something about the way he said it looked better on you made you cling onto him even tighter.

You and Charlie fell asleep on the couch that night, entangled in each other’s arms. In the morning, you were awakened by the sound of stomping footsteps and rowdy laughter as the other children got ready to leave. Soon enough, Molly Weasley was ushering you and Charlie to get ready as well. She didn’t seem at all surprised to see the two of you sleeping on the sofa together. Like everyone else in the house, she knew of your relationship without having to be told.

Charlie decided to accompany you and rest of the returning Hogwarts troupe to the train station. He didn’t want to miss seeing you off, wanting to say goodbye one last time. By the time you reached Platform 9 3/4, it was finally hitting you that you would be leaving him again. But this time, it hurt a little less because you knew you wouldn’t be leaving behind an unrequited love. You would be leaving your boyfriend, someone who did feel the same way and would never stop caring about you no matter the distance.

Your goodbye was bittersweet. You were thrilled to be parting ways as two people who were dating at long last, but you were dismayed to leave him at all.

“Did you pack my jumper?” Charlie asked as he pulled you into one last hug.

“Sure did,” you grinned at him. “I’m going to miss you, Charlie.”

“I’ll miss you too,” he said, planting a kiss into your hair. “But there’s always next year.”

You finally pulled away and boarded the Hogwarts Express with the others. Sitting in between Ginny and Hermione, you waved out the window frantically as the train pulled out of the station. You continued to wave as the train continued to chug forward until the figures of Charlie, Molly, and Arthur Weasley became nothing but specks on the platform.

Tired from staying up late the night before, you allowed yourself to shut your eyes during the ride to school. As you were drifting off to sleep, the last words Charlie had said to you turned over and over again in your mind. But there’s always next year. He was right. Although you’d be apart for your last year at Hogwarts and his second year in Romania, you had your whole future ahead of you. You had the rest of your lives to be together, so it didn’t matter that you weren’t together now. You sank deeper and deeper into a peaceful slumber, letting the noise of the train inching along the tracks and the thoughts of your future with Charlie lull you to sleep.

[watermelonsugar2612]

'MY DREAM WEDDING'

Okay- I'm sorry but I skipped some of the story, like wedding prep. I really wanted to write about their bachelor parties. In the story now, they're getting married in a week. Also, now the story is from Ginny's POV. I read a bunch of fics from her POV and fell in love. Sorry its so late too, I had exams. Now read on.

Ginny’s bachelorette

“I can’t believe we’re getting married in a week, fiance dearest!” I smiled as Harry and I sat in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. We had just finished breakfast and we had our bachelor and bachelorette party tonight. “Me too fiancee,” Harry grinned, gave me a little peck on the lips and took his dish to the sink. He put it down and washed his hands. “Are you all set for your bachelorette tomorrow?” I asked him as I washed the dishes and he changed into a shirt. “Yeah. A few of the blokes are going for drinks.” he said unimportantly. “Cool,” I said and put away the last dish. He stepped away, his shirt was buttoned except the top two buttons, and his raven locks were messy as usual. “Bye baby, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you, I’ll miss you” he said, gave me a short kiss. “I love you too, I’ll apparate to Grimmauld if I can’t sleep okay?” I made a cute face. “Of course baby, I probably won’t be able to sleep without you anyway, I’ll miss you,” he gave me another little kiss. “Me too, I’ll miss you so much Harry,” I said again and kissed him. After a few seconds, he pulled away, “I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you, I’ll miss you!” I chanted. “How will I sleep without your little caresses and without your hand in my hair?! Gin-” he said with a raspy voice. By now, I was pinned to the back of the sink and my legs were between his. “Harry, do you think Kingsley would mind if you were a little late?” I smirked as he pulled my skirt and knickers down. He kissed me really hard. Fuck. I thought it would be the end of me. I made my way to unbutton his shirt as he kissed my neck. I tore his shirt off and he did the same to mine. I winced because of the few seconds of missed contact. He continued kissing my neck and made his way down. He kissed my collarbone and unclasped my bra, kissing my breasts. I moaned loudly. He continued his pecs and licks as my hand traveled to his junk. I stroked it a few times.“Fuck- I need to be inside you,” he groaned and I could distinctly feel his huge bulge between my legs. I quickly unbuckled his belt and took his pants off. I was already naked, so he pulled away for a brief and slammed inside me. “Harry!” I moaned at the top of my lungs. “Fuck Gin, you’re still so tight!” he said in response. He thrust at high speed and I whimpered and moaned at the pleasure. “Harder Harry! Go faster!” I moaned again and he followed my command. He thrust and continued to kiss my neck, now fondling my breast. He made way to clit and massaged it. I felt my insides tighten and he stopped massaging at once. “I’m coming, Harry! HARRY-” I clenched around him and a huge wave of pleasure overtook me. “Ginny!” he moaned and came on his high. He slowly rode us out back low. “That is going to be one to remember! I think we came in like record time,” Harry grinned. “You git, if I told you, you wouldn’t believe how much I got turned on when you told me you would miss me.” I blushed as he pulled out. “No fiancee dearest, you wouldn’t believe how much the fact that I wouldn’t have you in my arms to sleep was a problem. I really will miss-” and I cut him off with a little kiss, I didn’t want to be turned on again. Though honestly, what I was doing would probably turn us on too, so I bit his bottom lip and pulled away. “You have to get to work darling,” I grinned and pushed him away. “Ugh! Fine,” he rolled his eyes and put on a fresh set of clothing and so did I. We were in the bedroom and he apparated away with one little kiss and said, “I can’t wait to make it up to you in the bedroom tomorrow. We’ll go nonstop for hours. I’ll miss you so very much baby.” FUCK! How dare you Harry James Potter, you git! He turned me on again. I mean, me and Harry, on average would shag twice a day, but we because we weren’t going to be able to do that tonight, we’d shagged like 4 times the previous night and once in the morning, in the shower and well, the kitchen. Oh god, I’m blushing like crazy. Someone save me from this man.

Well, for my bachelorette as I had already told Harry, me, Hermoine, Luna, Hannah, Fleur, Angelina, Audrey and mum would have a few drinks at the burrow and gossip.

We were starting celebrations early, we would make dinner and make some treacle tart. Dad would be out for the night, with Harry. Oh, that little piece of eye candy, I thought about Harry and closed my eyes. Ugh, I need help. I wasn’t supposed to think about him, not today. Okay deep breaths. I spent the rest of my day definitely not thinking about Harry and the way he touched me, the fact that he had chosen me of all women, and we were about to get married, nope. Oh! And by the way, I didn’t have quidditch practice because I had taken leave for the wedding and honeymoon, so for like 2 months. It was about 6 pm, we were going to make dinner, I remembered and apparated to the Burrow. I was greeted by all of my bridesmaids (and mum). We made a big dinner and treacle tart for dessert. Now, it was about 10pm and we had all taken our seats in the large living room of the Burrow. I sat in the settee in which I would generally sit in Harry’s lap. He would softly play with my hair and give me little pecks during conversation with my family. He would feed me cookies during Christmas- “Ginny, Ginny, Ginny, GINNY!” my mom interrupted my thoughts. I had an unavoidable blush on my face. “Sorry mum! Yeah, I’m here now,” I said. “Okay, let’s play never have I ever, each time you have done something, you take a shot of firewhiskey” Angelina suggested and everyone nodded. “You go first Hermione,” she continued. “Okay, never have I ever, shagged in public.” Hermione blushed. “You gotta be more specific ‘Mione! Like a restaurant, or a clothes shop-” I was interrupted yet again by Hermione, “Okay, a restaurant?” she finished her question. “Ha! That’s simple, I have, a bunch of times!” I shrugged and I felt a tinge of blush as those memories came back to me, but I shut them off and gulped down a shot. My mum looked at me with a deadly look. “Well I haven’t!” Luna said and Audrey, Hannah, Hermione and mum chimed in and said, they hadn’t either. Fleur and Angelina downed a shot, oh my god! I had to ask Bill and George myself later. “Well, next question!” my mum interrupted before we could get really deep into conversation. “Never have I ever,” Fleur said, “ditched someone for my husband, or vice-versa?” she finished. “Tons of times!” I said as I lifted a glass high up in the air and drank it. “Wait! The time you said you got “emergency practices” or Harry or you had gotten very sick or you had to go to a team meeting or Auror function were all excuses to ditch us?!” Hermione said with her mouth agape. “Not always, but yeah most of the time, we were probably shagging,” I shrugged and took another shot. “Hermione looked furious and honestly so did everyone else, I gave a slight smile. “Never have I ever bought anything from Lady Lilac’s Lingerie,” I asked with a grin and immediately downed a shot. Everyone else looked at me with pure shock. “Do we even want to ask how many times you have bought- lingerie from there?” Hannah said with a disgusted expression. “I mean, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had it ripped off myself, so no probably not,” I said, suddenly in horror as I saw the number of shocked faces turned toward me. I. should. not. have. said that! It should be illegal for me to talk even when I’m slightly drunk. “Uh-uh next question?” I said with a confused smile. The faces didn’t turn away for quite a long time when mum finally spoke up, “Oh god, everyone, this is her night, let’s not be shocked by my daughters sexual appetite!” everyone laughed. “Never have I ever, had sex in the burrow, this only applies to after you moved out!” mum questioned. I downed another shot, no one else did, and the horrified expressions returned. “I can’t believe I’m asking this, but with which room, Ginny Weasley?!” mum almost screamed. I wasn’t sure if I should answer this question but my drunk brain did anyway, “Ron’s, and even the living room, when we were staying here for Christmas!” I grinned. “You are a dead woman Ginny!'' Mum got up and walked toward me. “Fuck. Sorry mum! We scourgifyed it later?” I said as I winced. Mum rolled her eyes and

sat back down. “Okay, this game is a little too much for some of us to take right now, let’s play something else,” Hermione said. “Yeah sure, let’s play 21 truths.” Angelina suggested. “Perfect!” I said. How this game worked was, we would go in a circle and say numbers, one person could say three numbers max in one turn and the person on which ‘21’ landed had to answer a question. The first few rounds went easy and I wasn’t asked anything. It was like the 6th round when, unfortunately, the 21 landed on me. “Okay, shoot a question, who wants to ask me one?” I said accepting defeat. “Well, I think since Ginny is the bride and everyone will have tons of questions for her, everyone gets to ask her one.” Hermione suggested. Everyone grinned and nodded. Fuck. I was so dead. “When was the first time you and Harry had sex and where?” Luna asked. “The room of requirement, sixth year.” I said. That one was easy, thanks Luna. I thought and turned to Angelina. “With who was the best you ever had- wait, let me reframe it, it's pretty obvious its Harry, where was it?” she asked. “Oh! Wow, that's difficult! I mean, all over Grimmauld Place I guess! The kitchen, bedrooms, living room, balcony, bathroom. The locker rooms at Quidditch pitches. And… sorry about this, but at Hermione and Ron’s wedding, in the bridesmaids room, after the ceremony, before dinner. Also, maybe in the Great Lake-” I continued but I was interrupted by mum, “Next person!” she laughed a bit and Fleur continued, “Have you ever had sex on a broomstick?” she said with a little contemplation. “Well, we tried- but it didn’t really work, we kinda tumbled to the ground and finished there, but yeah, no.” I replied. “When you were living at the Burrow, how often would you sneak into the boys room, when I had asked you not to?” mum asked. Shit. “Well…” I cleared my throat, “every night?” I said with a slight shiver and continued, “Harry would switch places with Hermione to sleep with me and at one point all of our belongings were shifted and we didn’t go to the other couples’ room.” I finished. Mum looked at me with those eyes that scared the crap out of me. Her expression softened, “oh well!” she rolled her eyes. “What is the longest you and Harry have lasted while having sex?” Hannah asked. “This is an interesting one, basically we had this bet of who could last longer and I came first after we had sex for like 2 hours. No big deal.” I shrugged as I finally took another shot of firewhiskey. “Wow!” Hannah sighed. “I’m gonna regret asking this, but how many times have you had sex in last night and this morning?” Hermione said, twiddling with her fingers. “Fuck. Do I have to answer that, you are probably going to think I’m insane…” I said insecurely. “Yeah, actually…” Angelina said softly. “Ugh. fine. No one judges me. Like six times- only because I wasn’t going to spend the night with him, so we had decided that we could do it like an extra time at night, and, and, we kinda got carried away, so we did like 3 extra times. Then in the morning, Harry had woken up late and I was in the shower, washing my hair, when he came in to brush his teeth, he saw me and got in, and it kinda just- happened. Then again, we had finished breakfast and Harry was saying that he would miss me, that he couldn’t sleep without me and I was saying it too, somehow it really turned on the both of us, so then, it's pretty obvious Harry would be late for work.” I finished, realising I had said too much. “Wow. I bet you and Harry can’t go till your wedding without having sex!” Hermione spoke up. “Of course we can!” I said loudly, but somewhere, even I knew we couldn’t, but what was wrong with a little friendly argument. “There is no way you could Ginny.” Angelina chimed in. “How can you say that?!” I said as I stood up. “Because you and Harry are like bloody rabbits! We’ve seen you at the Burrow, you cannot be kept apart from one another! Hell, you had sex like 4 extra times because you wouldn’t spend one night togehther!” Hermione said again. “That’s- different!” I said unsurely. “Okay, then prove it

Ginny!” mum said, “You can’t have sex till your wedding night, six days.” she grinned as she finished. “FINE!” I said as I took the bottle of firewhiskey and went to my bedroom. I would be sharing my room with Hermione, Angelina would be with Fleur in Bill’s room, mum would be alone, in her own room, and Luna would be with Hannah in Ron’s. I had started drinking from the bottle directly and was really drunk by now. Then realisation came rushing to me, I wouldn’t be able to have sex with Harry for six days, SIX FUCKING DAYS! I’ll probably go insane, and what about Harry’s promise to me, to ‘make it up in the bedroom’. Fuckkk!! Someone needed to kill me, this very instant. While I was mourning on the floor of my bedroom, Hermione walked in. “You are the worst Hermione! Get out!” I screamed. “What’s up?” she asked unknowingly as she came in and opened her hair. “I bet Harry and Ginny can’t go without having sex till their wedding! Meh,meh,meh,meh.” I said mockingly. “Well, I bet you can’t!” she said normally. “You bitch! I know I can’t but what will I say to Harry?! ‘Harry I can’t have sex with you for a week because my bridesmaids are such bitches for betting on my sex life!’' I continued mocking her. “Ginny, it was harmless, you don’t actually have to do it!'' She continued her business and I continued downing shots. “YES, I DO! It is now on my pride Hermione Granger!” I screamed. “Well then, do it I guess?” she said again. “Fine!” I said, pouring another shot. “But what about his promise?!” I muttered to myself but I guess I was louder because Hermione heard. “What promise?” she said as she sat down beside me and took the bottle of firewhiskey from my hand, pouring herself a shot. “Well- uh, in the morning, after we had sex in the kitchen. Ugh wait. Let me tell it to you from the beginning.” I said, sighed and continued, “We were just talking randomly about our bachelorette party tonight. We had just finished breakfast. Harry was standing near the sink of the dining room putting on a shirt, he came out, looking… What's the word, yummy? Properly buttoned up shirt, messy hair and those green fucking eyes… He said something like ‘Bye baby, I’ll miss you.’ and boy was that hot. Then I said that I would- apparate to him if I couldn’t sleep. He said, ‘I probably won’t be able to sleep without you anyway.’ I said I would miss him too, a lot. Then I was chanting into the kitchen that I would miss him. Then he was like how would he sleep without my hand in his hair and the tiny caresses I would do on his bare chest. Fuck, that chest. Mmmmm…” I said getting lost in the imagination of his chest. I was bought back from the world of imagination by a nudge from Hermione’s elbow. “Yeah sorry. So yeah the tiny caresses. He pinned me to the back of the sink and well, then we just had sex there, standing. I’ll skip the details, afterwards, we both got dressed and I said that he was a git for having me so turned on by the tiniest things and he said that it was true, he couldn’t sleep and would be thinking of me. When we were done he made a promise, ‘I’ll make it up to you in the bedroom tomorrow. We’ll go nonstop for hours. I’ll really miss you’ he said something like that and apparated away!” I finished. “Wow, you two have some serious issues. Do you have any idea why he still has that effect on you, you’ve been dating for 4 years, you're about to get married?” Hermione muttered. “I have no fucking idea! But that’s not even the problem! How will I tell him?!” I said. Me and Hermione chatted for a while and went to bed soon enough. I woke up the next morning, hungover as fuck. I had dark circles and my hair was all messy. My breath, yuck. I brushed my teeth and took a bath, went downstairs to find everyone except Hermione (who was in the shower) dressed and having breakfast. The hangover potion lay on the table and I took it and got almost instant relief from the constant throbbing of my head. “Morning guys! I just wanted to inform you that I am taking the bet!” I said proudly. “Great, we bet 100 galleons, together.” Angelina said as

Hermione walked downstairs. “Great!” I said and grabbed a piece of toast and egg. I finished and said. “The party was great! Thanks, I will see you all later.” I said as I apparated to Grimmauld Place.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

Princess

Harry Potter AU Marauders ERA

Summary:  You grew up in the Black household. Regulus was always your playmate and best friend. Now that the two of you are nearly grown things are changing. They changed a long time ago. In your mind, you had always belonged to Regulus. Now a war is going and things will become harder than ever.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader 

Rating: E- smut. Smut series. Don’t like smut? Please stay away from this series

_____

It was 6 am when you heard the front door slam closed. You yawned and glanced at the clock. This was the latest that Regulus had ever come home after a death eater “meeting.” It had been two weeks since Regulus had said a word to you and it was driving you batty. Going from being Regulus’ pet to nothing was beginning to wear on you.

You had been living in the Black family household since you were two years old. After your mother was killed and father sent to Azkaban for being a dark wizard. Your aunt Druella talked Walburga and Orion into taking you in. Walburga would finally get the daughter that she so desperately wanted. That was your life. You would go between Walburga and Orion to Druella and Cygnus Black. To some, Walburga treated you better than her own sons. She pampered you senseless. You were her “special” one and you were to grow up knowing that. She wasn’t able to produce another child after her rough pregnancy with Regulus but she ended up getting what she wanted anyway.

Reggie...your heart fluttered thinking about him. As children the two of you were inseparable. It was decided early on that you would be Regulus’ pet and eventual wife. Neither of you seemed to be opposed to this arrangement. As children, the two of you would scowl at each other when Walburga would mention the betrothal. The two of you were practically siblings. Falling in love with the other would seem so weird!

When it came to starting school, you began to notice the subtle differences in Regulus. You began to notice his jealousy when another boy would talk to you. It didn’t matter to him that it was on himself that you would cling to. In Regulus’ mind, the two of you grew up together and each other was the only thing that either of you needed.

It didn’t take long for you to begin to notice Regulus for the man he was. Puberty was a literal bitch who smacked the two of you over the head and changed everything about the other. Both of you grew into haughty good looks that turned a lot of the members of the opposite sex’s heads. You had lost your “baby fat” and grew slender with violet eyes. Regulus grew taller and you began to notice his chiseled jawline and romantic eyes. The attraction was building until the point the two of you were desperate for physical love. You didn’t mind that Regulus’ hand started staying on your lower back longer than normal or how he would “casually” stare at your breasts. His hands and mind were on you and not the other girls (who were desperate for his attention.)

The pivotal change in your relationship came when Sirius left home. Your memory from that day was still strong….

You had been out shopping that day with your aunt Druella. She decided that it was time to start buying you more “ladylike” lingerie. Druella hadn’t said it directly but she assumed that you were already sleeping with Regulus. It was time that you learned to please him properly.

Kreacher popped up the moment that you stepped into the house with your shopping bags.

“Mistress Y/n, let Kreacher take your things upstairs.”

You let the elf take the things out of your hand before picking up on the sullen mood in the house. It felt darker than normal. You automatically called Kreacher back.

“Is something going on?”

Kreacher winced before speaking.

“You should go to see my mistress. She ordered Kreacher to tell you that she wants to see you upon your arrival. She is in her sitting room.”

Kreacher said before popping out of the room. You shrugged off Kreacher’s words. In your mind, you assumed that Walburga was probably upset over some childish prank that Sirius played.

Stepping into the sitting room, you noticed Walburga elegantly placed on her chaise lounge. A half-empty glass of wine sat beside her as her dark eyes peered into the flames.

“You wanted to see me, mum?”

Walburga didn’t look up.

“Y/n, I’m glad that you are home. Sirius is no longer with us.”

You frowned, confused by her words. Did she finally kill the boy? You wouldn’t have been surprised. The past few weeks had been beyond tense in Grimmauld Place. You had found yourself asking Sirius to tone it down a bit but he refused.

“No longer with us, mum?”

You repeated her sentence as Walburga stood and closed the distance between your bodies. Her beautiful face took in your appearance before she reached out and touched your face.

“He has decided that he no longer wishes to be part of this family. Therefore, he is dead to us all. Do you understand?”

You nodded but, no, you didn’t understand. Where was Sirius? Was he alive? The two of you had little in common but you still cared for him. You also knew in the beginning, you had been intended to be for Sirius. He was the heir after all and would need a suitable wife. You, however, took to Regulus first. Walburga wasn’t about to upset her favorite son by taking away the one person that he loved the most.

“I do, mum. Are you alright?”

You asked, sweetly. Over the years you had learned to be sweet as pie to Walburga and she would eat of your hand. If you played into her “perfect daughter” role then you could get anything that you wanted.

Walburga smiled.

“You’re a sweet girl. I will be fine. You should go tend to Regulus. I believe he is taking this hard.”

You didn’t have to be told twice before quickly going up the stairs. Walking by Sirius’ room, you couldn't help but question what “actually” happened. Was there something that you had not seen or something that Walburga hadn’t told you? Your best guess was...yes.

Stopping outside of Regulus’ half-closed door, you could see the outline of his body lying on his bed. His hand was hovering in the air to catch the golden snitch that whirled above him.

“Regulus?”

You said his name gently as you stepped in and closed the door. Regulus didn’t look up at you. His messy curls were sprawled over his pillow like a crown. Your pampered prince...you thought with a smile.

“Where have you been?”

He asked, simply.

“Druella took me shopping.”

Regulus nodded. He wasn’t surprised. Druella had been “stealing” you from him a lot lately. Regulus figured Druella was tired of his possessive nature when it came to you.

“I suppose that you heard about Sirius.”

Regulus added. You nodded, trying to gauge his reaction. Regulus was a master at making his true emotions and today was going to be no different. You didn’t doubt Regulus’ love for his brother. Now that his brother was gone, Regulus was destined to be sour. Sirius abandoned the two of you in Grimmauld Place as if you both meant nothing.

“I did. Are you alright?”

Regulus rolled his eyes.

“Fine.”

You took a breath before climbing onto the bed beside him. Wrapping an arm around his chest, you nuzzled your face against him.

“Why would he do such a thing?”

“He’s a selfish toad.”

Regulus snapped.

“My only worry is you.”

You said, gently. Regulus didn’t reply for a moment. You were doing exactly what he wanted. You were comforting him...or at least trying to. Regulus had you and that’s all he needed. The two of you could be alone in the world together and be just fine.

“What did you buy today?”

Regulus asked, wanting to change the subject. He was already tired of discussing his feelings and if the subject wasn’t changed then he would be sobbing in your arms soon.

You sat up before blushing.

“Lingerie.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“I wanna see.”

Regulus smirked when your mouth dropped.

“Reggie…”

Regulus reached out and pulled you onto his lap.

“We’ve been kissing for years. You’re mine, after all…”

You quickly unbuttoned the blouse, not needing to be told twice. Regulus, meanwhile, sat back with his typical “Black family scowl.” He was surprised that you agreed to undress for him so easily. There was also the thought that he was finally getting what he wanted. Regulus had been watching you closely for a long time. As your body started to “change” so did his own curiosity about how it would feel to touch you...to put his mouth on you.

Regulus ignored the thought of the muggle porn that he had seen. Sirius was a shameless git and didn’t mind admitting that he liked watching the stuff. Regulus, on the other hand, didn’t want to admit that his own curiosity had him wondering how it would feel to have you underneath him? Would you move the way these muggle women did under their lovers? How long would it take Regulus to gain your permission for physical affection? It had been too long. Regulus didn’t care that the two of you were extremely young to be doing such things...he wanted it!

The moment that your blouse was fully unbuttoned and the tops of your breasts came into view Regulus bit his bottom lip. He had seen you in a swimsuit but this was different. This was intimate apparel that only he should see. You were his and only he was going to look at you in such a way.

“Don’t laugh.”

You whispered as you tossed your blouse on the floor…”

Your mind was still on the memory of your first time in order to pull on a cream-colored dressing gown. Neither Regulus nor yourself had intended to have sex that day. It just happened. After he saw your bare breasts the two of you were making out heavier than normal. The next thing that you knew Regulus was thrusting into you. Maybe this was the best way that you could have provided him with comfort?

The rest of the house was quiet as you slipped out of the bedroom that you now shared with Regulus. Slipping down the stairs, you prayed that Walburga and Orion were sleeping in that morning. You wanted some time with Regulus alone.

Your lover’s increasing distance and lack of being home were getting to you. It wouldn’t be long until both of you returned to school and your chances of “being close” diminished greatly. Having to sneak around to gain some private time with Regulus was a bit annoying. You also had the feeling that as soon as Regulus was around his male friends; you would be forgotten about to an extent. It was no secret to you that your cousin Evan was a death eater and so was Barty Crouch Jr.

Regulus stood in the kitchen, staring out the window when you stepped in. He had taken off his robes and stood only in the black jumper and matching trousers all of the death eaters had taken on as their “official uniform.”

“I’ve missed you.”

Regulus turned around the moment that he heard your voice. He internally thanked his mother and father for being “sound sleepers.” You had just woken up and looked like a total goddess standing there with your arms crossed like a pouting child. The dressing gown left little to Regulus’ imagination.

He waited a few seconds before gently pushing you against the wall. Spreading your legs, Regulus took his place between them.

“Yeah? Why don’t you show me how much you missed me?”

Your fingers tangled in his curls before pulling him into a long kiss. Reaching down, you tugged the jumper over his head. Regulus shook his head to free himself from the garment. He waited all of two seconds to push the dressing gown from your shoulders. You were left only in the lingerie that you had slept in. The chill of the room on your exposed skin left your shivering closer to your lover.

“You’re such a tease.”

Regulus hissed as your hand right hand caressed up his chest and down his left arm over the dark mark. Your left arm was around his waist to make sure that he didn’t get away too easily.

“Take me to bed, Reggie.”

You whined against his mouth. Regulus quickly lifted you into his arms and carried you up the stairs. He forgot all about the abandoned articles of clothing that were in the kitchen.

Locking the door behind him, Regulus tossed you onto the bed as he began to unbuckle his belt.

“Well, come here and show me how much you’ve missed me.”

You were on your knees without having to be told twice. Tugging Regulus’ trousers down, you pressed kisses to his thighs and hips. Regulus groaned as he ran his hand over his length. It had been two-fucking-weeks since he had last touched you and he hated it.

Regulus’ negative thoughts vanished the moment that your mouth was wrapped around his length. His eyes rolled back as you took him inch by inch to the back of your throat.

“Fuck.”

He growled, wrapping a hand through your bedridden curls for leverage. You, meanwhile, let your eyes flutter open enough to look up at Regulus’ face. His eyes were closed as he muttered “good girl” and “fuck yes” over and over. You smiled knowing that you had the talent of turning prim and proper Regulus Black into a cursing stuttering mess with one touch.

Regulus pulled away enough for his cock to pop out of your mouth. He reached down and tugged you onto the bed. He sunk down in front of you with a shit-eating smirk.

“Has my princess been a good girl?”

He asked in a mocking tone. You only nodded. Regulus tugged your knickers down and tossed them over his shoulder before stroking his index finger down your folds.

“How many times have you touched yourself here?”

“Just once.”

You confessed. Regulus raised an eyebrow before turning his attention to your thighs. The evidence of your last time together was healing. Love bites and healed scars from his biting, littered the places that only he could see.

“Are you sure?”

He asked, dropping a kiss to your plump flesh. You, again, nodded.

“I used my fingers.”

Regulus chuckled and quickly wrapped his hands around yours. He took your index and middle finger into his mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits as if it were your clit that he was lavishing affection on.

“These fingers?”

Regulus finally asked as he removed the digits from his mouth. You nodded as Regulus took your soaking fingers to rub yourself. His hand guided yours as he smirked up at you.

“Reggie, please. It's been two weeks.”

You whined. Regulus didn’t budge and you knew that he would only make love to you when he was ready. Your lover was in “dom” mode and he was going to play like a naughty boy.

“I know it's been two weeks. Trust me, love. I know very well. You’re going to have to get used to going some time without being fucked. You know how hard it is at school. It's just one more year, sweetheart. I foresee a lot of dates to the astronomy tower and room of requirement in our future.”

Regulus was proud to see how much of a withering mess that he caused you to be.

“You could always sleep in my bed.”

He added, smacking your mound lightly. You gasped as Regulus repeated the motion.

“Do you seriously want to be making love to me in front of your friends?”

You squeaked. Regulus raised an eyebrow.

“They all know that we have sex. Evan’s bitching to his mother that I get to have you sleep in my bed every night and he has to stay downstairs with his mother and girlfriend. Barty...well...the closest Barty has ever come to sex is watching us snog.”

Regulus was right on that one. Barty had zero luck when it came to women. The poor boy seemed to be living vicariously through Regulus. You couldn't count the number of times that Regulus’ on-again/off-again friend had sat and watched the two of you snog jealousy.

“He’s fingering her in front of everyone!”

You internally laughed at the tone of Barty’s voice when Evan finally had enough of Regulus’ shenanigans and pulled the other boy out of the common room. Evan didn’t seem to care that the two of you would practically be fucking in front of everyone until he got sick of watching it. You smiled at the memory of your cousin's disgust.

“It's hard to study when you have someone’s tongue down your throat. Will the two of you stop?”

Regulus pulled away from you for a moment before lust drove him right back. Even slammed his book closed.

“I can hear you two kissing! I’m going to the library. Let’s go, Crouch.”

“We can really scare them this year.”

Regulus commented as his index finger slowly pushed inside. You gasped and threw your head back onto the bed. Regulus moved up enough to join you. He pulled you into his arms as he continued to manipulate your body.

“You won’t forget me like you have this summer, will you? I feel neglected.”

Regulus stopped his movement at your comment. You knew that annoyed him. He quickly took his place over you and shoved inside. You would have moaned loudly had Regulus not crammed his hand over your mouth.

“Neglect you? I’m inside of you right now. You don’t go without! I’m working to make sure that we have a nice life after graduation.”

Regulus increased the speed of his thrusts. Again, you found yourself praying that Walburga was sleeping through all of this. The last thing that you wanted your “adopted mother” to hear was the sound of Regulus’ skin slapping against yours.

“You can be a bit selfish.”

Regulus grunted. His eyes had closed as he focused on not coming. Truth be told, he was as selfish as you. When it came to you, he could be a selfish little tyrant and he didn’t care. You were his to kiss and his to please.

“So can you.”

You snapped back. Regulus’ dreamy eyes opened and he smiled.

“Yeah? You think so?”

You nodded with a smirk as Regulus pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach. He pushed back in before you were able to formulate what he was doing. Regulus was trying to make you come. If you came first, he would win your “fun little game.” The head of his cock shoved against your cervix, leaving your gasping.

“I’m making you come. How is that selfish?”

He asked with a grin. Regulus bit down on your ear before snaking his hand around your waist and teasing your clit.

“Reggie…”

Your teasing tone softened. Regulus pressed a kiss to your cheek.

“I love you.”

You gasped as he shoved in balls deep, sending you into a powerful orgasm. Unable to move a moment, you simply enjoyed the feeling of Regulus rocking into you muttering in French. You turned, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“I love you. I know that you want to come.”

Regulus wrapped his hands in the sheet and increased his pace as you whispered sweet nothings in his ear.

“Coming.”

He managed to get out as you tugged on his hair the moment he exploded inside of you. Regulus remained in his kneeling position before pushing your legs off enough to collapse on top of you. His head snuggled against your breasts as you gently ran your fingers through his sex ravaged curls.

“Such a selfish girl.”

Regulus said with a smirk as you pressed a kiss to his forehead. He yawned, finally feeling relaxed. Selfish was the last thing that Regulus thought that you were but it was fun to tease you.

“Sleep, sweetheart.”

You cooed, feeling suddenly tired yourself. Regulus didn’t move. He remained on top of you before dozing off. Your hand interlocked with his as you too fell asleep.

This was how Walburga found the two of you an hour later. The two of you were nude and wrapped up in each other. Orion said, putting a hand on his wife’s back. He didn’t have to look at his son to know what the two of you were doing.

“Let them be.”

_______

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[anika-ann]

Attached: Words We Don’t Mean

(...and Those We Do)

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 7950 👀

Summary: Your parents decide to visit for Thanksgiving, which alone is a trial. 

The fact that they haven’t met Steve yet and they have no clue who he is… yeah, you better brace yourself for a storm.

A/N: Attached: Words We Don’t Mean (and Those We Do) is a one-shot to the Attached series. Technically, you can read it as a standalone.

A/N: In the Stockings fic, I mentioned that no one in their household talked about (last) Thanksgiving. Here’s why. Also: I named the parents Paul and Jane, it’s enough of a mess to work around with nameless reader; if that offends you, sorry, feel free to move on from this fic.

Warnings: angst, parents-daughter fight, mention of sexual relationhips and of using one’s body to earn money (negative view), mild flashback, emotional H/C, swearing, sprinkles of fluff and Disney

Story masterlist

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“Sweetheart, please, sit down for just a second,” Steve requested gently; however, there was no mistaking the drop of amusement in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words and continued scrubbing the bathtub clean.

Everything had to be perfect. Had to be. You bought the tinniest of the giant turkeys yesterday – just so you wouldn’t have to eat leftovers for a month –, ingredients for the stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce. Your mum had promised to stop by somewhere to get four slices of a pumpkin pie. But cooking was on your list later today; first you needed to make sure that the apartment would shine with cleanness.

Not that you considered yourself a neat freak, thank you very much… maybe occasionally. And Steve? Yeah, he was more of a neat freak than you were and now he was telling you to rest and take it easy? Uh-huh, nope.

Nope, because… your parents -- gosh, your parents.

“Honey-“

Your head snapped to him as he bounced off of the doorframe, soft steps leading him right to you.

“Did you just call me honey?” you asked incredulously.

Not that you didn’t like it, it was just-- you were Steve’s sweetheart, his babygirl, his good girl… now honey? That was new and frankly, it might have freaked you out a bit.

Also, your heart skipped a frantic beat upon looking at him.

Damn, you forgot again about what he had done yesterday and it always startled you to see him like that. Too unusual – not bad-looking by any means, just… unusual.

Steve chuckled as he crouched to you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and cupping your mildly sweaty cheek. He grimaced a bit at your surprised tone.

“Not a fan?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, hun, it’s just that… it’s a bit ominous, the change.”

One corner of his lips rose at your choice of a petname. “That’s because you’re freaking out and I need you to calm down a bit, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you scoffed, rather offended. Mostly because he was right – but also because he was being a damn hypocrite.

“Oh, am I? Me? Did I spend about an hour in front of the mirror yesterday, trying and almost failing to solve the dilemma whether I should or shouldn’t shave off my beard?”

Steve’s face turned entirely sour at your snarky remark.

“Don’t be mean, it’s a valid concern to-- I don’t want them to hate me,” he murmured and dropped his gaze in shame along with his hand, seemingly shrinking into himself, his insecurity returning.

You sighed and mentally cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

You dropped the brush to the tub with a thud and lost one of your gloves, wiping the ew feeling onto your old sweats before you tried to smoothen the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“They’re gonna love you, Steve,” you assured him again, letting you fingers travel over his clean-shaved jaw, lightly pulling at his cheek to make him smile again. “I miss the beard, not gonna lie, but you do have an extremely sweet boy-next-door look now, you are my handsome, funny, smart as hell guy, who’s somehow all grown up and has life stuff figured out and you’re making me happy. You’re the epitome of the guy a girl wants to bring home to meet her parents.”

Despite slightly panting from exertion, you took care to sound as convincing as possible, pushing away your own worries for a bit.

Steve was your perfect guy, perfection incarnated; you weren’t worried about him not making an impression… except for the fact that Steve did have a few years on you and worked at the uni and—well.

Yet, you couldn’t but dread the moment your parents realized that you were everything but perfect since they let you loose on the world. You had never been the daughter to show off like the epitome of everything good and wholesome, but you always tried your best to please them…. Now though? Darting your professor? Even if he wasn’t exactly your professor?

Yeah, you didn’t think that a spotless apartment could make up for that, but it helped to ease your anxiety when you kept lying to yourself that it just might.

Steve grasped your palm in his, planting a tiny kiss there – a gesture to warm your heart, always – his lips once again curled up a fraction as his gaze met yours, his mesmerizing blues kind and hopeful.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

And with the way he was looking at you – you finally figured it out. Just a fleeting thought and an answer to an unspoken question you had been failing to grasp at since yesterday; it escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Gosh, you look like a Disney prince!”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, laughter erupting from his throat and he pulled you to him in one swift motion, falling on his ass with you in his arms in the process and nearly getting crushed by you. Clearly, he did not care one bit as he shook with laughter, kissing your nose, your cheeks and finally your lips despite your protests that you were gross.

“That’s golden! Oh babygirl, you’re the-”

“Tell me I’m Cinderella, I dare you,” you grumbled, but Steve just shook his head and kissed you breathless, fingers of one hand curled around your nape to guide you closer, to breathe you in, while his other hand stayed wrapped around your waist.

You tried your best not to touch him with your gloved hand, having it ridiculously stretched out to nowhere in order not to spot his clothes, but your free hand clutched at his t-shirt with enthusiasm.

His lips left yours only when the world started spinning and your mind turned blank besides the thought of Steve’s mouth being on yours and how much you loved it when he stole all the breath from your lungs – and how much you always missed him when he withdrew.

You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he watched you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, your messy self in baggy clothes, your heart growing three times its size, your insides positively tingly from the heated make-out session.

Steve was smiling again too at last, brushing your nose with his and planting one last soft kiss on your lips.

“Okay, babygirl, now hand over the brush.”

You had to blink several times, your oh so lazy brain taking its time to realize what he said. Huh? Also, did he just said it as if he was asking you were a robber holding a hostage on gunpoint and he was asking you to lay down your weapon?

The thought made you internally snort.

“Why?” you demanded, suspicious.

“Because I’m taking over.”

You instantly shook your head. “No-“

“Yes. I promise I’ll make sure it’s spotless-“

Okay, yeah, that was one of our arguments against him doing the clean-up. However, there was one more. “But you still have papers to grade and lessons to prepare!”

“And you want to cook too and then we’ll have to clean up the kitchen. And you’ll want to take a shower and and and. Papers can wait. Gimme the brush.”

“You make it sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction… or I am,” you muttered, but you kissed his cheek – such a strange feeling, you truly missed the sensation of his beard scraping your lips – and climbed out of his lap with a meek and cautious thank you. He cackled at your antics, but quickly fished out a new pair of gloves from the bathroom drawer and started working.

You swallowed your smart remark about him being the Cinderella now. Mostly because his gesture was one of the sweetest things and really – seeing Steve scrubbing the bathtub might not be the sexiest thing in the world… but it kinda was.

It pulled at your heartstrings as you imagined that this might be how it would always be; you and Steve, settling together, taking care of the household, then cuddling on the couch—the domesticity you hadn’t always been sure you craved.

Now you were certain of it; but to get to that, you had to survive your parents’ visit first.  

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You had somewhat stayed in touch with your parents, mostly with your mum; you two had been calling on a so-so regular basis, sometimes with video, and both her and your father were obviously aware that you had a boyfriend (gee, that sounded kinda trivial, a boyfriend). In fact, Steve played a huge role in them deciding to purchase their plane tickets… besides wanting to see New York City… and you.

The thing was… you had managed to keep Steve’s identity secret so far; you never used a videocall when he was around, so your mum only had heard his voice, sweet and polite in the most Steve fashion possible, you sort-of danced around his age and his job. Yeah, you found it strange as well that you kept it up so long, a divine intervention even; or maybe your mum simply had a good idea of your dirty secret all along and purposely didn’t probe.

Now, with your parents in the apartment, your dad’s eyes more on Steve than on you (your mum’s eyes wandered too, you noticed, but she had enough decency to show you she missed you first), you felt dread fill every cell in your body. Your heart was pounding in your chest with too much ferocity, your temples pulsing, your palms uncharacteristically sweaty and if it wasn’t for Steve’s warm hand on your lower back, its weight oh so comforting, you might spontaneously combust because of your nerves.

You were suddenly entirely grateful that Steve had shaved off his beard, was giving less of a an incredibly hot (and still very young, thank you very much) professor vibe and looked--- well, kinda like he could be your classmate.

But of course, of course the subject came up. Inevitably, after the small talk about your parents’ flight, about how their job was going and if they picked up a new hobby (…or heard some gossip), you and Steve became the centre of attention.

First, things went smoothly enough; you talked a bit about school, about Penny and some of your classmates and professors, about your part-time job. Steve had been subtly drawing small comforting circles on your thigh whenever he wasn’t eating and he in fact succeeded in lowering your heartbeat so much that you might appear even calm.

And then it oh so predictably went to shit.

Because apparently, your materialistic father had to ask Steve what he was studying and what his plan for his future career was.

“I actually finished my studies,” Steve admitted in an admirably dispassionate manner.

Meanwhile, your own heart started racing again, sending you to the verge of a cardiac arrest; your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a hint of a smile played in the corners of his lips in effort to remain polite… for now.

“Oh? Was that recently?”

You deflected that question by bringing up the pie and snatching Steve with you to bring it to the table since you two were the hosts.

The question forgotten, your mum – god bless her, she had caught up enough to know you did not want to discuss Steve’s age, even if it wasn’t that bad – asked about Steve’s field of study.

“History, minoring in pedagogics.”

“Oh? So you are a history teacher?” your dad chimed in and you swallowed as Steve confirmed that claim, walking straight into a death trap. You had seen it coming, you had, but you still winced when your father’s icy tone cut the almost festive atmosphere. “And it wouldn’t be that you’re more of a university professor, would it?”

His hand balled into a fist on the table, your mother’s lightly covering it as she whispered his name; the gesture of comfort, a silent plea for him to stay calm, didn’t quite work.

Steve, to his benefit, looked only a bit sheepish, meeting your dad’s eye with bravery worth of the Disney prince you had called him earlier that day. Also, with the same honesty… why hadn’t you agreed on lying to them again?

“It would, sir.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose then that it is a coincidence that you two met in school?” your dad continued and you sighed, your breathing progressively turning into a more and more of a difficult task with the anticipation of a storm.

“It is not, sir,” Steve replied calmly and you honestly didn’t know whether you should kiss him or punch him, unsure if his attitude made your father madder or not. “However-“

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and enraged; you felt yourself sink into your chair involuntarily, your mind travelling years back to the moments when he wasn’t pleased with you at all, yelled and sputtered words tasting of venom.

“Do you have any explanation for this inappropriate joke?” you father hissed, not caring he interrupted whatever Steve was about to say to your defence.

Your chest grew heavy, edges of your vision blurring subtly; your eyes burned and suddenly, you weren’t only remembering. You were reliving a memory, feeling like your child-self, like your teenage-self, being scolded for every imperfection; and there had been generous amount of those as you had been growing up.

Steve’s hand somehow slid under the table again, squeezing yours, a gentle wave of attempted comfort washing over you.

But it took one glance at him and you understood that silent support was not the only goal of his when he sought your touch.

His jaw was set tight, his grip a little too strong; he was trying to maintain composure, while not at all impressed with the tone your father was speaking with you.

Yet, Steve’s gesture did provide you with something you hadn’t had whenever you faced your father before; strength and true support, the essential reminder that you had done nothing wrong.

“Dad, this is not a joke,” you said, your voice shaking only slightly as you squeezed Steve’s hand back, “Steve and I are dating. Yes, he is teaching at the same college I study, but-“

A fist hit the table, causing the remaining tableware clank with the force behind the blow and you winced in fright, all muscles tensing in an instant.

“There is no ‘but’ applicable in this case!” your father spitted out, the anger in his voice making your guts twist, the sting in your eyes intensifying. “We help you to pay for school so you could study, not sleep around!”

Several things happened at once; your mother admonished your father, a level-headed whisper of his name. Your voice, too quiet as always when your father reprimanded you, tried to protest, to defend yourself.  And Steve’s patience ran out, his outrage at your father’s demeanour showing.

“Paul-“

“That’s not what’s-“

“Don’t talk to her like that!“

“You keep your mouth shut now,” you father snapped at Steve, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning his rage towards you again, the deep disappointment in his eyes somehow more hurtful than the anger. “Is it that bad with your grades that you have to—to--- Jesus Christ.“

The world stopped for several frantic beats of your heart, everything else in standstill. Multiple sharp breaths were drawn in, but you didn’t think either of them was yours.

Your father’s unfinished sentence echoed in your ears as if from a terrible distance and just like that—just like that, you were thrown several months back to the days before your graduation.

Rogers’ whore

Bet she’ll get the highest score

The icy feeling that froze your bones and crystalized the blood in your veins made for a stark contrast to the few hot tears you were distantly aware of that were running down your cheeks.

Many had thought of you that you were a set of holes to fill for the professor in exchange for passing an exam or two, which was disgusting, deeply insulting and obviously wrong. But those people didn’t know you- they weren’t your blood.

Your own father was now seconds from calling you a whore. The dinner turned into a stone in your stomach as the verbal punch knocked all air from your lungs.

“Paul!” you heard a swift reproach, quickly followed by Steve’s voice, dangerously low in a threat. “I’m sorry, what did you just imply about her?”

“You zip it-“

“Paul!”

It felt like a fucking elephant stomped on your chest, the spiral of pity and despair, mocking voices swirling wildly, tossing you around with a quickening speed as the circles got smaller and smaller, as if you were circling down the drain, your breaths coming shorter and shorter too-

And yet your father still continued, ignorant to all warnings and your inner turmoil.

“That’s over, my dear. I refuse to support such disgusting thing. And you, I don’t see how it’s possible that you still have your job-“

“DAD!” a loud cry cut off the monologue and it took you a moment to realize that it was you who just snapped and yelled, despite the unmistakable addressing.

Your father stared at you in mute shock as you dared to interrupt him; and frankly, with the world spinning, your stomach twisted and your chest constricted with anxiety, you were shocked by your actions too.

It was the fact that he doubted Steve’s position at the uni, flashed through your mind, the way he insulted the man you loved and who deserved all the good things. Or maybe it was his fucking attitude towards Steve and you in general and you just finally reached your limit. You weren’t sure; but shit, this ended now.

The silence that fell on the room granted you a few moments to breathe and calm your frantic mind.

“He is not using me like some f-“ -fuckdoll- “-fling or whatever. And he’s not even my professor, he’s-“

“Like it matters!” you father snapped from his trance, spitting the words, a vein on his temple visibly popping up as he rose to his feet swiftly, nearly sending the chair flying to the ground.

You stared up at him, the coil of despair and rage in your gut burning hot as he literally looked down on you.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You hadn’t been ready for your father to despise you for being in a relationship with a great man, to judge you so harshly without being able to listen for a damn second.

“It DOES. But even if he was-“ you tried to explain again, losing patience and the ground under your feet too as Steve’s hand started practically crushing the bones of yours.

You could physically feel Steve trying to hold back and slowly succumb to his not so nice emotions no doubt swirling in him just like in you.

“How can you not see that’s he’s only looking to get his---” your father gestured wildly towards Steve and rather low and you could hear Steve’s teeth grinding at the implication. Your blood reached the boiling point. How dared he to- “-that he’s only seeking a physical thing-“

“That’s not what this is. I love your daughter-“ Steve emphasized, expression fiery, voice surprisingly measured for a man who you believed was one moment from punching your father.

“Sure you do, son, until something with long legs and tall heels walks by-“

Steve’s chair scrapped against the floor and you quickly laid a palm over his chest to stop him from jumping to his feet and succumb to his righteous anger.

“Steve-“ you whispered soothingly, seeing the light tremble to his hands, tendons dancing under his shirt with the effort to hold back.

“Paul, that’s enough,” your mother interjected, grabbing her husband’s wrist to keep him back as well.

“I do love your daughter, I respect her and I fully intend-“

Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled shakily to compose himself. In the very back of your mind, you spared a single thought to what he was going to say before he shook his head and looked your father dead in the eye again.

“-I am serious about her and I want to and will be with her as long as she’ll have me.”

You had two full seconds to sink into the gentle sentiment behind his words, to cherish how much he did respect your choices and strangely, how he still doubted he could be enough for you, before your father scoffed dismissively.

“Well, I hope you are serious, because if she comes crawling back in few weeks, the door and the account will be closed.” He shot you one disdainful look that made your heart stop before twisting his arm from your mother’s hold and stepping away from the table. “We’re leaving.”

Your eyes slipped shut, a fresh wave of hot tears painting your cheeks, all strength leaving your body, darkness enveloping your mind.

He was cutting you off. He was going to disown you no doubt; that much of a disappointment you were to him.

Your own father hated you.

Dull ringing filled your ears, muffling your mother’s low voice.

“I’m so sorry for his behaviour.” She sounded truly regretful, her voice quivering a bit, you thought. “I’ll talk to him about what he said. Thank you for the dinner, baby. It was nice to meet you, Steve, truly.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve responded firmly, his voice the only solid thing in the room. “I’ll—I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary, Steve. But thank you. I’ll call you, sweetheart.”

A low whisper about a promise fell from her lips next as she brushed your shoulder, but you couldn’t hope to understand what she was saying, the buzz of blood in your ears growing louder.

And then you knew she was gone along with your father. You knew because a warm hand touched yours, another gently wiping way the endless waterfall of your tears and then you were pulled to your feet and practically dragged to the couch in Steve’s protective embrace.

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You wouldn’t be able to tell how long you were drenching Steve’s shirt in tears, sobbing into his chest as he held you firmly and yet tenderly, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort empty and yet so meaningful.

You couldn’t tell how long it took for the tremble subdue, for the sobs to turn into sniffles and then die out entirely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” Steve whispered to your hair, caressing your scalp, your back the next, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know,” you creaked back, gripping the fabric of his shirt for one last time before you gathered your breath and courage to face him; you had to. You might be a mess, but it was vital that he heard you say this: “It’s not your fault.”

You withdrew slightly, meeting his eyes, so big and regretful, a bit watery as if he was the one crying. The corners of his lips, apparently having been turned down the whole time, twitched, his whole face twisting in a grimace; little sad, little defiant, but he didn’t protest even though you were certain that he wanted to.

Perhaps it was a testimony of how well you two fit, how your thoughts worked on the same wavelengths; you understood what he must have been thinking. If you were dating literally anybody else, this wouldn’t have happened.

So you had to assure him that you didn’t blame him; even if he did so himself. You didn’t have the energy to be angry with him for such thing. Mostly because that in a way, there was a tiny bit of truth in him thinking so.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I chose you. Yes, this relationship is on both of us… but we knew the risks and went for it anyway. And—it’s worth it, it’s just… fuck, this is so fucked up. I’m in such a mess now,” you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears burned in your eyes.

Steve’s fingers were quick to dry your cheeks, gently stroking, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We are, babygirl. We’re in this together. What’s mine is yours,” Steve said, determined. You couldn’t find yourself sharing his optimism, but his eyes locked onto yours, serious as his words. “We’ll figure it out. Find ways of saving more. Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll try to find a job that pays better-”

Your palms landed on his chest, pushing away, putting some distance between you; his hand dropped from your face.

Say WHAT?

“Absolutely not!” you protested instantly, sobering from your despair and letting indignation take over, ignoring entirely the voice in your head sweetly nudging you with the idea of what Steve was willing to give up for you. “I’ll drop off college before I let you give up being a professor, Steve-- you are made-“

“Not an option, sweetheart,” he shot back instantly, expression turning strict. “You leaving college is off the table.”

Mentally, you threw your hands up in the air, growing confused and frustrated by the minute.

“Why? How is that different from you finding a new job, giving up something you worked for so hard?”

“The difference is,” Steve raised his voice slightly, speaking slowly as if he wanted you to remember every word, “-that the chances are that I could come back at some point, that I might only lose a few years. You dropping off, on the other hand, would affect your whole future.”

The same exasperation you felt burned in his eyes now and you gulped, realization hitting you that… yeah, okay, that was a good point. But you hated it anyway.

“…okay, that’s a fair point. But I rather work three jobs and didn’t sleep at all than seeing you leave the university.”

“And work yourself to the ground? I don’t think so, babygirl,” Steve shook his head, just a smidge of patronizing which stung more than you would expect.

Obviously, he was presenting you with more of a feasible option, but you had a feeling that the primal instinct to be the provider played a role in his attitude too – and at any given moment besides this one you would like that; you were completely fine with him wanting to ensure you were secured, taking the larger portion of the burden on his shoulders.

Except now it reminded you of your father in the worst possible way despite knowing that the sentiment was nothing but sweet, no malice in his intentions. It chased tears into your eyes.

Steve’s expression instantly melted, panic flashing in his eyes as he must have figured out that this was not the right thing to say… or not the right way.

His hands were quick to frame you face, tender but unwavering, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s just… we’ll work it out, somehow, okay? We can even move out and share an apartment with someone else if we need to. Though you’re forgetting I used to pay this rent and bills on my own.”

Your lower lip quivered, your heart fluttering in fondness for this incredible man, your chest constricted at the idea of taking anything away from him, even if it was comfort. God, the distance he was willing to walk…

“You were living on school cafeteria food and ramen,” you mumbled, corners of your lips twitching upwards for the shortest moment.

Steve’s smile, on the other hand, was almost blinding, tight-lipped but honest, thumbs sweeping at the tears that appeared yet again.

“See, another possibility to save money. Don’t cry, my pretty girl…” he pleaded lowly, kissing your nose before shaking his head lightly. “Or cry if you need to. I’m here, sweetheart, okay? Whatever you need.”

Shit, your heart couldn’t hope to contain this amount of love-

How could anyone ever doubt Steve was the right man for you? The best man? The most wonderful loving human being? How did your father think he was just looking for a mindless fuck?

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, smiling through your tears. “Fuck my father. He can’t bully me into being his perfect daughter by cutting me off, can’t make me behave. There’s nothing wrong with me loving you.”

“Or me loving you.”

There was no questioning his honesty; it was written all over his features, his irises bright with emotion. And yet, you worried your teeth over your lower lip, insecurity, your old friend, crawling into your head.

“You do, really? Even with my asshole of a dad?”

You didn’t mean it. Entirely. Though momentarily, your dad was being an asshole, not for the first time.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re my everything,” Steve promised, releasing your face in order to tuck messy loose strands of your hair behind your ears.

“That’s the sweetest thing to say, but you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth-“ Oh. Even though… maybe that would be an option? “Well, technically-“

All the gentle warmth radiating from Steve’s expression turned ice cold, smile dropping so fast it startled you.

“Don’t you even-“

“Hey, why not, I mean how much do you think-“

“Stop that right now!” Steve’s voice cut you off, razor sharp voice as if cutting into your skin.

You flinched at the mental blow on instinct, air stuck in your throat, muscles in your back straightening enough to inflict a sharp pounding in your head.

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling painstakingly slow, as if he got punched in his gut too. His fists on your sides clenched and unclenched, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he looked at you again, it was obvious he realized he had scared you – and that he regretted not keeping his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, babygirl, I didn’t mean for it to come out this harsh.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on nothing but your breathing and keeping yourself from sobbing again as you were reminded of your father’s yelling. With each long second, you could see Steve’s face twisting and his body sinking into the couch in shame.

Well. As much as you hated him snapping at you, you had to give it to him – it sobered you up. Frankly, you didn’t blame him for being so harsh.

But you were also aware that Steve was a painfully kind and gentle soul and he never wanted to be rough with you… well, except under certain very consensual special circumstances.

“I know,” you forced an unconvincing smile, laying your palm on his cheek, affection Steve was quick to lean into with a sigh – probably both relieved and content. “I’m sorry for talking stupid.”

He covered your hand with his, carefully manipulating it so he could brush his lips over your palm.

“You’re not, not really. Our heads are a mess, rightfully so. I know people still do that, some purely by choice, but—I don’t want that for you, ever. That’s the same level on a will-never-happen scale like you not continuing your masters. Not an option for me. You’re my girl and if someone’s gonna change their habits, it’s gonna be me first.”

The surge of affection at his words filled your stomach with butterflies, wrapping around you like the softest and warmest comforter.

Great, now you wanted to cry for a whole different reason.

“I don’t deserve you,” spilled from your lips before you could think twice. Steve���s sweet smile made its return.

“Other way around, babygirl. Other way around…. Now how does a bath and a bed sound?”

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Steve hadn’t planned on you and him having a bath when making the suggestion. He found a bath-bomb even and few candles so the light wouldn’t have to be on and hurt your previously teary eyes.

But then you looked at him with wide eyes, pleading and so vulnerable, a single look so heartfelt that it would make the devil’s black heart break and the angels weep – and he was done for, sinking into the bath with you even if the bathtub was not meant for more than one person, especially when one of them was of Steve’s built.

He couldn’t tell you no. Less so after the shitstorm the dinner had turned into.

Yes, Steve’s own emotions were running high, anger, disappointment and self-hatred he knew he couldn’t confess to, certainly not at the moment, but you. You were the priority here because he had a feeling that no matter how overwhelmed he felt, he had nothing on you.

The ceramics of the tub was hard against his back and against his knees at the side, but you fit into his arms and between his legs so perfectly and contentedly that he wouldn’t dare to complain. Head in the crook of his neck, your back to his chest, you melted into him, eyes closed, fingers absently and yet affectionately running over his forearms above water, sometimes along his calves.

You didn’t talk much, mostly repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that you loved him – something he found himself echoing every time – and it slipped through your lips too that while you would never change the fact that you picked him… you were sorry for being a disappointment to your father.

At that, something in Steve’s chest cracked and he swore to himself – that he would never ever be the cause of you feeling like a disappointment. And why would he – you were his perfect girl, his best girl. As much as he regretted that he indirectly did have a hand in making you feel like this now, he wouldn’t change who you were to each other and who you were had he had the chance. Never.

What he could do was to hold you tighter after your admission and whisper more sweet nonsense that made perfect sense to him to your ear.

By the time the water got cold, you were practically asleep, completely groggy, pliant. Somehow, you both climbed from the tub without sustaining any injury. He might have been holding you upright a bit as you both brushed your teeth and pulled on a pyjama.

You fell asleep almost instantly, face hidden in Steve’s chest, few stray tears dampening his sleepshirt as you mumbled one more love confession into the fabric.

“I love you, Steve... I’m sorry… you have to put up with such bullshit…” Your words slurred but Steve didn’t need to hear them to understand what you were saying.

He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the sting of guilt in his gut.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, earning a hum that might have been a sign of contentment… or you being entirely drained. “Let’s go to sleep now. Clearer head in the morning.”

Another hum and then nothing but your deep slow breathing, the last remnants of tension leaving your body.

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Steve didn’t think he would follow you to the dreamland anytime soon, too agitated, thoughts swirling wildly in his head, but he caught himself snapping back to consciousness at some point, unsure when he fell asleep – and what woke him up.

An intrusive buzzing on your nightstand provided him with the answer, your phone lit up.

Steve spared you one glance as you stirred only to nuzzle deeper into his frame, sighing.

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, he stretched over you and checked who was calling.

Blood crystalized in his veins, heart sent into frenzy as he read a simple short word.

Mom.

He squeezed the side button, silencing the vibration as he pondered what to do; and yet, even as his heart jumped to his throat – as if he was a teenager about to face his girlfriend’s parents after he took her virginity – he had already made a decision, accepting the call as you sank into the cushions without him as a pillow.

He slipped from the room as silently and quickly as possible, announcing himself before you mother could say something not meant for his ears.

“Oh. Hello, Steve,” your mother greeted him, clearly surprised – but much to Steve’s relief, not angry.

He could do this, he could talk to your mother even with the lump in his throat; could have been much worse. Could have been your father and Steve wasn’t so sure if he would manage him. For one, he would hate to be reminded, once again, of what the numerous hate letters had told him about being a total perv; for two, Steve feared he might exchange words with your father that couldn’t have been taken back and would seal the damage done to the relationship with your parents .

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She fell asleep and—I can wake her, of course, but-“ He stumbled over his words and was immensely grateful when your mother saved him from his misery; more se when she said what she did.

“-but she had a rough night. We all did. I’m okay to talk to you, Steve.”

“Alright… how can I help, ma’am?”

“Tell me how bad she is, Steve? She stopped crying before she falling asleep?” the woman on the other side asked softly, causing Steve’s heart to squeeze in a painful memory of his own kind mother, God bless her soul.

And perhaps it was that very memory that encouraged him to speak openly, the genuine worry of a mother who cared deeply for her child, her heart full of love.

How such woman could end up with such an asshole and stay with him was beyond Steve’s understanding, but he certainly wasn’t in position to judge the choices of the women in your family – after all, he was your choice and there was a long line of people who looked at the two with disdain.

“For a while,” Steve admitted with a sigh, his gaze automatically flickering towards the bedroom. “She’s—she feels like she disappointed you in a way, she’s scared of the what’s next, but she’s angry too, because she doesn’t think she did anything wrong by being with me.”

And Steve thought the same… to a point. Didn’t matter that sometimes he would find himself in a dark place where he simply awaited the moment you’d change your mind and left him; for someone your age, with better looks, someone smarted, someone funnier, someone who didn’t have to shave off his beard just so your parents made it through the front door without yelling.

Such gloomy images always left him more desperate than he was comfortable admitting and with searing jealousy in his gut.

He needed you. Yes, he’d survive if you left – but he was certain that you’d take his heart with him, leaving him unable to fall in love ever again… or to feel whole, for that matter.

“She wouldn’t leave you to get her financial support back, Steve,” sounded gently on the other end of the line and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in alarm, brief wonder if he had said any of his latest thoughts out loud.

He supposed he didn’t – your mother was just too intuitive, just like his used to be. He gulped against his dry throat, suddenly guilty for – in a way – forcing you to leave them.

“…I suppose not… I’m sorry if-- it was never my intention to steal your daughter from you, but I’m- I’m not gonna pretend I mind that she would rather be with me than had her money.”

“This is not your doing, Steve, don’t you think I don’t know that,” she continued, a subtle smile in her voice, Steve thought. “And it’s good that she’s willing to make this choice. We wouldn’t want the bride to get cold feet, after all.”

Steve’s heart stopped altogether, he was sure of it. Colour him mortified.

How the hell—but- she couldn’t--- he hadn’t proposed yet and he- what?

His stomach twisted in a tight knot. He couldn’t but ask, voice barely above whisper.

“…how did you know?”

“You stopped yourself mid-sentence, Steve. And as cliché as it sounds, you had fire in your eyes, defending my daughter. It is clear to me that you are serious about her, that you love her, and from the little I heard about you, you are the kind of man who would put a ring on it to seal the deal.”

You mother was definitely smiling now and Steve found himself doing the same, even if the lift of his lips turned sour.

“I would have asked for parents’ blessings, but…”

“I give it,” she was quick to assure him and Steve’s breath hitched, his chest puffing with pride, filling with endless relief and joy. Your mother approved of him. Even knowing who he was, how old he was, how—she was willing to give him her blessing! “You seem like a good man, Steve.”

Steve was both embarrassed and ridiculously proud when he realized he was blinking against tears gathering in his eyes, enormous weight falling from his shoulders.

“That, uhm—that means a lot, truly,” he choked out, swiftly clearing his throat, the embarrassment definitely winning now. He had to get it together before he gave out how weak he could be in front of your mother… she had given her blessing; she could easily take it back.

“I like you, Steve. You’re a good blend of an old-fashioned and modern man. Don’t mess it up and keep my daughter happy.”

“I will try my best, ma’am,” he declared in an instant, meaning every word.

A sigh sounded from the speaker. “That’s all I ask for… now the less happy reason to call. I talked to Paul, but he… I’m sorry, Steve, as for now, he still isn’t fond of you.” That didn’t surprise Steve, but it hurt nonetheless. Then again, he was grateful that your mother tried to put in a good word for him; that meant a lot too. “He only agreed to pay for three more months.”

Steve’s free hand balled into fist, the other clutching the phone considerably tighter as hot surge of anger flooded his veins.

Three more payments. As if the relationship with your family was a damn job contract and this was the notice period.

Steve was sure he was going to be sick.

“Thank you. That’s… we appreciate it,” he managed to grit through his teeth, trying his damnest to remember that he wasn’t mad at the sweet woman – only at her husband.

“You really are a good man, Steve. You’re good for her. I’m glad she found you.”

Steve would once again be entirely joyful at being at least your mother’s favour, but he heard you call out his name from the bedroom, low, hoarse and utterly confused and all he could focus on was the idea of you, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair and still adorable, looking for him in the dark room with a pout to your lips.

“Steve?” your mother called out unsurely and Steve snapped from his reverie.

“Sorry, uhm, she’s awake-- do you want me to hand you over or-“ he blurted out swiftly, hoping the answer would be no as he couldn’t wait to crawl back to bed with you.

“No, just tell her I called. I believe you two have things to talk about. Take care of my daughter, Steve. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jane, Steve,” she offered kindly just as Steve heard the soft patting on your fluffy socks on the floor.

“Yes, Jane,” he corrected himself then, unable to contain the satisfaction as he tested the name on his tongue. “Thank you, really. Goodnight.”

He ended the call as you emerged from the bedroom, squinting to the low light, your eyes instantly finding him – he automatically smiled for you, unsubtly splaying his arms wide. You didn’t hesitate, aiming straight into his embrace even if it was at snail pace.

It was funny and strange and wonderful how Steve still loved simply holding you, his heart calmer the moment he found you melting into his frame. Christ, he loved you… and clearly, your mother noticed; he was so obvious, that-

“You were gone,” you muttered into his chest discontentedly, nuzzling into him and Steve automatically cradled you to him tighter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admitted bluntly, propping your chin on his torso to look up at him, eyes growing wide and surprisingly soft with emotion. “More so because I was talking stupid and crying into your shirt instead of comforting you after my dad accused you of the things that--- those things that aren’t right.”

Steve felt the painful nudge to his consciousness, because he knew there always would be some truth to ‘those’ words; but you were here to dilute the pain and make it all better. Your care for his well-being served like a shield for the sticks and stones for now at least, when you were the priority. You had it worse at the moment, no matter what his former colleague had accused him of in those hate letters – and now your father.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about me now.”

You gazed into his eyes, pushing on your tiptoes to peck his lips and the small gesture of affection was like a balm to his soul, much like your words.

“But I do. Always. I love you, Steve… I’m sorry we can’t catch a break… but we’ll… somehow, we’ll push through, right?” you whispered, hopeful and wistfully determined and Steve could only nod, feeling the corners of his lips rising.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re my girl.”

“And you’re my guy. My prince charming,” you hummed, cradling his unusually smooth cheek, irises full of wonder, the sensation was as foreign to you as it was to him. But it was your babble that made him chuckle, the nickname that seemed to catch on; you were too cute for words. “Guess I am Cinderella after all and somehow you accidentally fell in love with me.”

“Damn right I did,” he confirmed, brushing your forehead with his lips before tugging you back to the bedroom. “Not all that glitters is gold.”

“True. Though you might have some glitter from the bathbomb on you.”

“Cheeky girl.”

He didn’t bother pretending to be offended or grumpy; he was simply too happy to see some of your snarky teasing side making its return, that was always a good sign.

“I try… but really, are you okay?”

Steve didn’t respond at first, climbing to the bed, manoeuvring you to his arms where you belonged and fit so naturally. Only when the lights were out and you were both comfortable, he replied, truthfully.

“I will be. I have you. Plus, your mum seems to be okay with me.”

More than okay, apparently.

Steve’s heart fluttered with a bit of nerves as his mind wandered to the ring he kept in the very room you fell asleep every night.

“As she should,” you hummed, sounding very pleased. “She has a nose for good people. And you’re the best.”

“After you at least.”

“Best man, then,” you argued playfully and Steve was perfectly content to have you think that. It would play in his favour when he would finally find the courage to sink to one knee in front of you.

“Well, I’m certainly a lucky one… I have the best woman.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest over the fabric of his sleepshirt and sighing blissfully. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

If you only knew how much…

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S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

Stockings (next in timeline)

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Wink wink. I once again stretched this quite a bit, but hopefully you reached this very end without skipping something ;)

Thank you for reading and extra thanks if you happen to like, reblog and/or comment. Stay safe and happy!

(Also, to American friends: I hope you'll have better Thanksgiving than this ;) )

[peeterparkr]

perennial;tom holland|eleven.

chapter eleven: snapdragons & sunflowers (Vol. 1) 

↳ flower meaning: snapdragons: deception. sunflowers: unconditional love.

chapter summary: to ask for a kiss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: fluff, angst, comedy, all in one, mentions or allusion to sex but not smut :), you’ll see, alcohol. 

You’ll hate me. 

word count: 11.2K

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles  

ten (Instagram): in which they share set pictures

ten (tweets & texts:in which the groupchats are…loud

previous chapter next chapter   perennial masterlist.

perfidy  ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

So, please help me out I think tags aren’t working. So yes, hope you enjoy this :)

Y/N was made of the people she loved or once loved. Everyone is, really, but y/n probably made sure it showed.

 Like her habit for photography had come from her very own best friend, of the way she started watching cooking videos because of her other best friend and always read the ingredients on any of the food she ate. Her clothing style had come from her very own first boyfriend who had introduced her to the magnificent world of the 80’s.

Her love for 80’s movies had come from Louis introducing her every night to a different one, a new story, a new song, and honestly it was good he showed her to it, y/n found her one true love. Louis, really, had shown y/n a lot of things, like how to lie to see him at indecent hours, and how  And how Louis taught her that love doesn’t have to last and that sometimes people aren’t what we expect.  

How she loved pancakes because that’s what her mother used to make them every Sunday, and how she’d learned from her father that sometimes sitting outside in the grass on a sunny day could bring back happiness to us. 

How her grandma had taught her how to have a perfect poker face, and how her grandfather had shown her how to peel an orange in a ‘correct way’. 

 How she had started to drink her tea with lemon and honey because James had once given her one like that and it brought nice memories. And how James had told her that it’s okay to love, even when people tell you not to, you have to fight for your love, you shall never be afraid of who you love. And James teaching her that she should love for herself, for her own, and not having to share her feelings if she didn’t want to. 

How y/n had started to watch subtitled films because Timmy had shown her some hidden gems. Or how she had learned from Tim to enjoy little moments, like the sunrise if she ever had to wake up early, or how she opened the windows to listen to the rain splattering. Tim had taught her too much about life, like enjoying wasting time. 

Y/N was made, the most, of the people she loved the most. Like how she made pasta the way James had taught her to once when their parents had gone out and James was left in charge. 

Or how when she was sad she’d watch that movie her childhood friend had introduced her to, and how they didn’t talk now. How y/n had learned that music was a way of healing because of that same friend. 

Or how to make a story sound great with Harry, and how Harry had shown her songs that probably were her favorite ones. How Harry and her knew that they didn’t like tequila because of that one time, and how they had learned that mixing cranberry, and grape juice and vodka tasted great thanks to Sam’s idea. 

The way that Emma had taught her to use certain hair products, and how Emma had taught her that sometimes we have to sing out our feelings, and scream and shout. How Emma had taught her the importance of a friendship and having someone’s shoulder to cry on. That she didn’t have to be lonely. 

How when she kissed she usually liked to place her hands behind their neck because she’d done that on her very first kiss with Tom, or how she usually ate some of the chocolate chips when she baked cookies because Tom and her used to do that. She had learned how to wrestle from a very young age and beat Tom, and she had learned how to play with his hair in a way to make him smile. She had learned the meaning of a rose, when all her life she had never understood about it, Tom had shown her how to approach a dog, and Tom had taught her how to cuff her jeans in a cool way. Or the habit she’d picked from him of undressing the beer bottle when they were talking or how he opened it with the table. How Tom had taught her how to kiss, from their very first one to the last one, different kisses each time, how he’d taught her each and every kiss is a journey, a mystery. How she’d learned how to deal with heartbreaks and to fall in love all over again. And how she had learned that he’d come back to her. But really, how a heartbreak feels when it’s real. 

That’s who y/n was. All the beautiful things of the people she loved. 

But she was also the bad ones, unfortunately, because people shape us. Y/N was also made of the ugly parts, very ugly parts. 

One that stood out the most, she’d learned from Tom, from James, from her family, was to avoid talking. 

Everybody wanted to talk, everybody except y/n. She knew she was being immature, but she’d learned that from everyone around her, not to care if you don’t have to. But she was too overwhelmed, everyone had something to say about, except her. How could she talk if she didn’t know what she wanted? 

Tom, Harry, Emma, Tim, James, Sam, Cherry, Aunt Eliza, even Josh and Clark.  

Everybody wanted to talk. She didn’t. 

She had caught on to what Tom was doing. She'd go along with it, he was the only one she wanted to talk to, honestly. 

And Emma, because she knew Emma didn’t judge her, Emma understood y/n, and Emma had been the only one who really didn’t tell her she was wrong. Even if Tim was her best friend, Ema understood that y/n’s heart belonged to Tom. 

“Clark is great, I may have fallen in love with him,” Emma had stated. 

Y/N nodded. “He’s great, I—“

“Why didn’t you know?” Emma asked. 

“I did know. But I didn’t—James was—you know how I’ve only dated three guys?” Y/n asked, she was putting on makeup, she had a date. 

“Yeah.” 

“James is exactly the opposite, he’s dated like half the gay population his age in London,” y/n scrunched her nose, as she was choosing between lipsticks.. “So I just—Never paid attention to any guy he dated because I never thought it was serious.” 

“Are you talking to him now?”

“I did today, only because of Clark,” y/n admitted, giving up on the lipsticks and instead choosing to work on her hair. “James is still angry I am in love.” 

“Not angry at that, you know that,” Emma pointed out. 

“Is it that wrong I am so in love with Tom?” Y/n left the brush on the table as she turned to look at Emma. 

“It’s completely bollocks y/n, but then again,” Emma sighed, “I wish I could be more like you and just love—I mean and I also wish Harry wasn’t so scared okay? He’s just so bloody scared, I wish he’d just say hey, Emma, d’ya fancy to go for a stroll? But no, we are both so… Gosh, I wish we were more like you and Tom, throwing everything down the drain.” 

“We are-” 

“You are, y/n,” Emma rolled her eyes. “He blows your mind and you basically want to yell it to the world, and he gets you all stupid, and you’re happy again, that’s alright, though-” 

Emma was laying down on y/n’s bed, her feet up against the wall, as she was nibbling on a popsicle. 

“Yes, I know, we have to talk,” she sighed. 

“Who says it has to be right now?” Emma had said. “Right now you barely have time to think, and I see you all happy and giggling, and besides, talking doesn’t have to be dramatic.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s just… I don’t get it why James wants it to be dramatic, it’s just hey, you guys love each other, what else is there to know?” 

Y/N nodded, turning back to the lipsticks. 

“You do have to tell him you know about Cherry, though, which-” 

“Yeah, n, no, but I get it,” y/n sighed.

“Which, I love you’re ignoring, just pretending like she doesn’t exist, ” Emma laughed. “She just arrived yesterday, didn’t she?” 

“She did,” Y/N sighed. “Ugh, I don’t want to see her and she wants to talk, what does she want to talk about? We’ve never cared about each other before, met her like three times growing up because my mum and hers didn’t get along, which by the way, I’m scared James and I are headed in that same direction.” 

“You won’t,” Emma said. “James loves you too much to ever leave you.” 

“You never know,” y/n said. “Besides that’s not my point, my point is why does she want to talk? We have nothing in common!” 

“Dunno, you’re blood related and you both rode the same dick, seems like you’ve got a lot in common.” 

Y/n closed her eyes as she forced a laugh, “Emma!” 

“I’m just saying, y/n, that’s why you and I became close, we’ve both kissed the same two guys.”

“It’s different,” Y/N scoffed. “I—just don’t want to see her okay? Because I know I’ll be reminded of every single insecurity I have,” she admitted. “Because I know that the moment I see her I’ll get just so anxious, you know? She’s so pretty, and she’s so perfect and from what-” 

“From what I’ve gathered from Eliza, she’s also a mess,” Emma added. 

“That’s an issue, that’s Tom’s type, just look at me,” y/n laughed as she stared at a bright red lipstick. 

Emma scoffed. “Oh, hadn’t thought about that, Tom’s into messy girls with your genes.” 

“It’s so fucked up, though,” y/n said, as she looked up at the wall, she needed to change the flowers, they were drying out. She hadn’t changed them in a while. 

Emma shrugged, “considering how small his brain is, he probably thought it would feel the same way if he closed his eyes.” 

“As if it would,” y/n replied cockily, finally choosing a light pink, changing it up a bit, she’d always used bright red lipsticks with Tom,  “I’ve known him his whole life, and now I’ve—“she cleared her throat. “ I know exactly how to work him up.” 

Emma let out a loud and long laugh. “I can tell, Jesus, what did you do to him to have him oh, so mesmerized? Are you a sex goddess or why are those two men so bloody entranced by you?”

Y/N blushed and shook her head laughing. “You’re an idiot.” 

“How do you really feel?” Emma wondered, getting the conversation back as serious as it was supposed to be. 

“I don’t know,” Y/N admitted, she was still on some pair of pjs. “I… I’ve been talking with Tom, or…” She rolled her eyes. “He’s found a way to talk, and I think it’s worked out for both of us.” 

“Oh, what is it?” Emma sighed. 

Y/n walked over to her closet, it felt so weird to choose something to wear, Tom had warned her to be casual, something her style, something very her. 

“We use the script so we can… I guess we’re projecting it all, and well, I think he’s been understanding about it, and I think I’m starting to understand his point of view, about Tim at least.” 

“Please, I don’t need to listen to him to know why he feels that way,” Emma pointed out. 

“Really?” Y/n turned back to Emma as she was choosing between them. 

“I like the red one,” Emma suggested. “But please, y/n,” Emma scoffed. “Timmy was the one who stole his chance, Timmy was the one who got the girl when he had fucked up and everyone around Tom said it, we’ve all said it at some point, Tim is perfect for you.” 

“But—“

“and besides, Timmy was the one-” 

“The one who opened the door when Tom came to apologize,” y/n finished Emma’s sentence as she sat down hugging the red dress Emma had suggested. 

Emma frowned. “What?” 

“Guess Timmy had secrets, too,” y/n said.

Emma seemed confused. 

“He never told me about it, how Tom had come a second time, and…” She sighed. “I mean I guess I’m thankful he didn’t but I’m… I’m only wondering—“

“Oh, back when you first started dating,” Emma recalled. “He did tell me about it, and I.. was the one to advise him not to  tell you.” 

Y/N gulped. 

“Would you have run back to Tom?” Emma wondered, embarrassed. “Honestly I told him not to because—Well, I had asked Harry about it, you know? Harry had said you hated each other and that you had been avoiding Tom for a while now. That you were enemies.” 

“We were.” 

“And I mean—Back then, you really hated him.”

Y/n nodded. “Yeah, I did.” 

“So I told Tim not to tell you about it, because I thought—I didn’t know the background but I thought Tom was going to—hurt you, you know? And I guess, we all did, and we all kept that mentality even when he wasn’t trying to.”

“Yeah.” 

“Wow, I’ve never thought about that,” Emma nodded. “Even when I knew you were dating back in New York, we were just waiting for it, for Tom to—“

“Yeah, for Tom to pull a Tom,” y/n ended the sentence. “And I mean—He kind of did, but it was my fault.” 

“Tom really sabotages himself, it seems.” 

Y/N reached out to hug her frog, she was thankful James had brought it, “he does, but because he’s expected to, you know? Maybe that’s why— I haven’t brought it up because I’m not—I’m not expecting the heartbreak this time, and I know bringing up the whole Cherry thing is looking for it,” y/n explained. “I trust him this time, and he really wants to make it work out.” 

“Would you have gone back to him? Had Tim told you he had showed up?” Emma questioned. 

Y/N breathed in heavily. “Dunno,” she said. “I was so heartbroken back then, I thought— and I had promised myself back then I would never fall back for him, and… I mean, I had even thought I would never love again because that’s how dramatic it was, I really didn’t want to see him, that heartbreak is what led to all this mess, you know?” She explained. “Now Tom knows that, I think he really understands it, and he feels guilty and I mean, I was angry when Tom told me about it, because… Tim, well he didn’t know back then, he just was too sure that Tom loved me but—After learning all of this? Tim should’ve told me, because just now, learning it, I guess it changed a lot of things, not that it erased anything, but I lived all this time thinking he hadn’t… He really hadn’t cared, and it took him a lot of time, still, but he had tried to apologize again, and Tim keeping it to himself knowing that what broke me the most was that Tom had never shown up? Tim keeping it to himself is just—so selfish.” 

Emma bit her lip. “He’s still in love with you.” 

Y/N remained quiet. 

“I mean, you can’t blame him,” Emma said. “You guys were… I mean before Tom, you really seemed to be hitting it off, I thought you’d end up dating again.” 

“I did, too, at some point,” y/n admitted. “But-” 

“But you love Tom, I know,” Emma shrugged. “No but… Y/N you also, have to acknowledge it, you can’t keep playing with Tim which-before you say anything, I mean it’s also on him, he knew it, but then again, I… I believed it at some point y/n, that you were going to get back together with him because… The way you looked at him just… and it was just—” 

“I know, I know and I thought… I don’t know, okay?” y/n admitted as she sat up. “I… It’s cause I never… I had closure with Tim, alright? I gave him the ring back because I thought, I know it, I want Tom, okay? It’s Tom, yes, it’s Tom.”

“But?” 

Y/n sighed, “Timmy—alright as I said before, I had said I would never love again after the whole Rome thing,” she cleared up. “And then Tim came along and just showed me this beautiful life and taught me how to love again, and I—He became a very special part of me.” 

“Yeah, and? That doesn’t explain your flirting.” 

“I didn’t—flirt.” 

“Well you answered to his flirting,” Emma pointed out. 

“We were—“

“You guys were flirting y/n!” Emma replied quickly, slightly stressed. “You guys don’t flirt like everyone else! Your flirting style with each other was by showing each other songs and him watering your plants, y/n! You were basically having sex with each other,” Emma rolled her eyes. 

Y/N stayed quiet. 

“But I know, Tom, Tom—“

Y/n gulped. “Yeah, Tom.” 

Emma watched y/n, confused. “Why are you acting like it’s the last time?” 

“What?” 

“Like it’s your last chance with Tom.” 

“I...don’t know, because what if it is, you know? It’s… stupid, we’ve had plenty of chances and… Last time, I just… Had I known it would lead to that. I know it’s my fault, and like we’ve both blown it up so it’s—“

“Neither one of you will fuck up.” 

“I know—But Tom… We are trying and I’m happy but I feel-” 

“Y/N you are pretending, I know, you won’t be happy until you talk about it with him.” 

She sighed. “I know, and we’ve been talking and I…” She coughed. “I really want to try it out.” 

“But…?”

“Am I allowed to forgive something like that? Am I even allowed to get angry about Cherry?”

Emma sat up as well. “Y/N, had he slept with anyone else I wouldn’t be so sure but that’s your cousin, that’s fucked up and-” 

“What if he finds out about Tim?” 

Y/N grabbed the pillow that had once been under her head and proceeded to get it in her face and scream into it. 

“Wait, I’m… I’m gonna try that,” Emma laughed, doing the same. 

Both of them were screaming into the pillows, pitying their sorrows and problems. 

Timmy had walked in. 

“What the hell?” He asked. 

Emma was the only one to peak her head out of it. “It’s therapeutic.” 

Timothee had only chuckled. “I bet.” 

Y/N had stopped screaming but kept the pillow over her face. She didn’t know how she felt about Tim, there was no point in being angry at something from the past, but it did change a lot of the way she saw him, maybe he had forgotten. But Tim was never one to forget, he was observant and he was quiet, and he was all about the stories. 

“Um, y/n?” Tim said. 

Emma watched Tim, and the small object he had in his hand. She shot him a warning glare, scared of the inside. 

“Yeah?” y/n answered from her pillow which now had a nice stain of makeup on it. 

“Can I talk to you?” He asked. 

Another person wanting to talk, what was it with everybody wanting to say words and listening and whatever? Y/N thought to herself. 

Though Timmy hadn’t asked for it yet, she knew it, but he hadn’t really said it, not the whole y/n we should talk. 

She wanted to say no, but she knew that she couldn’t keep doing that. Counting the days until it finally had to blow up, and then end up with bruises, no, she didn’t have to do that. 

She finally let the pillow down, “Yeah, sure,” she said before walking out of her room. 

“Sure, leave Emma behind,” Emma pointed out. 

“I… well,” Y/N looked at Tim. 

“It’ll be quick, darling, Emma dear,” Tim assured her. 

Emma rolled her eyes. “It never is with you both.” 

Tim rolled his eyes before leading the way outside of the apartment, y/n frowned, asking him to wait up so she could put on her sneakers, still wearing her pj’s. 

“So your birthday is tomorrow,” Tim had said as they had walked out, he had sat on the stairs. 

She chuckled as she sat beside him. “Yeah.” 

“You look really pretty,” Tim had said. 

“These pj’s really accentuate my features huh,” y/n joked. 

“Your makeup looks pretty and hair, idiot,” Tim chuckled. 

She only gave him a sad smile. 

“So, what are your plans?” He asked. 

“For… tonight? I’ve got a date,” she explained.

“No, tomorrow.” 

She shrugged. “Tom’s got some plans, apparently, he hasn’t told me anything about it, honestly I don’t… I don’t want to…” 

“What?” 

“Do anything you know? I will be too tired after filming, and I… I just feel like… Dunno, James and Clark will be there and I don’t want to talk to James still, and apparently Cherry invited herself, too so… And you’ll be there, and Harry and Emma… and Josh, and I just... ” She chuckled. “I’ve got a bad feeling.” 

“Why?” 

“Dunno, seems like a perfect combination for disaster.” 

“I met Cherry today,” he admitted. “Well, we’d met before but-Yeah, I thought you’d be at the flower shop. “And she was there, instead.” 

Y/N scrunched her nose. “Yeah I know she’s there, that’s why I haven’t gone there,” she explained chuckling shyly. 

“Why?” 

“Because then I’ll start feeling insignificant, because let’s face it and don’t you dare say no, but she’s really… Pretty, like she’s everything a girl would want to be and I’m jealous of her,” she admitted, truthfully. “I’ve never been the jealous kind but with her, I feel like—Of course anyone would choose her over me, and don’t—Say anything okay? I just feel that way. And if I see her I’ll be reminded of the elephant in the room waiting to be addressed, and I… If the conversation about you went wrong I don’t want to know how that-” 

“About me?” 

“Yeah,” she looked down. “Dunno.” 

Tim bit his lip. 

“How did he-?” 

“I don’t want to talk about that, Tim,” she quickly answered. “I can’t blame him for feeling the way he feels and that’s on me, too, I mean… I… really.” 

“What?” 

She looked down. “I— well, I don’t…know alright? If I feel anxious about Cherry I can only imagine how he feels about you, no, I can’t even imagine it, and look Tim, I—you know you’re very important to me but I’m… I’m dating… Or whatever is going on now, but It’s Tom right now, alright? And I know it’ll be for a long time.” 

“I know.” 

She looked at him, confused by his statement because it really didn’t feel like he knew it.. “And I don’t… want you to think there is an open door or-” 

“Y/N, I know,” he said. “Yeah, I know it’s Tom, now.” 

“But it’s not just—“

“I know,” Tim looked away. “I know.” 

She looked down. “I’m sorry.” 

“Just….” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s him, but that doesn’t… I mean, we’ve been friends, and I—I just ask you not to push me away, alright? I don’t know how I’d live without y/n in my world, and if having you around means having you with him, then I just have to deal with it, move on you know? And I know we are friends, so this is… This comes from your friend, Timmy.” 

She smiled, just slightly, very timidly. It hurt, hurting him but of course, keeping him around meant jeopardizing her relationship with Tom, and she really didn’t want to give it more excuses. 

“Timmy,” she sighed. 

He smiled. “I’m serious, it’s alright, no… no resentment, alright? We both know we… I don’t…you know it, I’ll always love you, but we—I mean you—you love someone else and it’s be stupid of me not letting you love him, that is just pathetically selfish. And don’t get me wrong, it hurts like a bitch…. Yeah, I know it, but… I don’t want to lose you, I am not stupid… but I also… I know that if I give this to you tomorrow, Tom will lose it and I… don’t want that, so I’m giving you this, today.” 

He pulled out a film canister. And it felt like one of those times when life likes to punch you with reality. She felt a fear deep inside her stomach. Last time he’d given her one of those an engagement ring was hidden in it. 

“It’s… It’s not what you think,” Tim rolled his eyes. “Oh, you really thought I’d propose again?” 

She let out a soft chuckle. “No--I… I mean,” I’m-I didn’t think you would-” 

“Your face,” He chuckled softly. “Yeah, no, I… I’m…” 

“Yeah, just last time you gave me one of those-” 

“Yeah, and look where it led us, I’m not… I wouldn’t… No,” Timmy laughed. “No, it’s not… and—do you really think I’m the type of guy to propose on a bad time—-Actually don’t answer that,” he chuckled. “Okay, open it.” 

She grinned, and took the film canister from him. “Man I hope it’s an iPad,” she joked, warning a laugh from Tim. “No, you—you shouldn’t have.” 

She shook it just slightly, listening to no sound coming out from it, before finally opening, carefully. “A…there’s nothing?” She asked. 

“Yeah,” Tim laughed. “I know.” 

She frowned, confused but then chuckled. “I love it… I hope I… can get to wear it soon,” she joked. 

“It couldn’t fit there, but I—Well, you know, we had that tradition, ,” he said before finally giving her the box that sat beside him. 

She took the box and smiled, opening it, an old vintage Polaroid camera stood there. 

“I know you’ve—I think it works, it’s—It’s an original, I've noticed you haven't really taken any Polaroids, and I know you love them,” he coughed. “So, yeah, happy birthday.” 

Y/N had only looked up, giving him a true smile. 

“Thank you, I love it!” 

But of course, the timing could not have gone any worse. Tom had arrived. Y/N had momentarily  forgotten she had agreed to spend the night with him, nothing too serious but Tom had insisted because he had a surprise for early in the morning and he’d come pick her up for dinner and then she’d stay with him. 

Maybe she should’ve seen the trouble coming. 

Tom cleared his throat loudly, “hello,” he said, standing with sunflowers. Yellow flowers with pretty meaning, y/n thought. 

Y/n looked up, calmly, knowing that if he saw any hint of her freaking out it would blow it up because his mind would go places.

“Oh hi!” She grinned. “sorry—I’m not—“

Tom clenched his jaw at Tim, but then turned to y/n and chuckled, “Darling,  when I said casual—I didn’t—“

She chuckled nervously standing up. “Sorry, I—“she squeezed her eyes shut. “I was discussing with Tim something about some pictures he’s planning on—yeah,” she lied, as she hid the film canister and box behind her back. 

“Yeah,” Tim said, clearing his throat, standing up as well. “Hello, Thomas.” 

“Tim.” Tom was nervous already, y/n could tell. 

“Are those for me?” Y/n questioned staring at the flowers  before they could say another word to each other. 

Tom chuckled between his teeth, “yeah, they’re most certainly not for Tim.” 

“Oh,” Tim said, “and here I was getting excited about them.” 

Tom faked a very quiet laugh and then turned to y/n. “So? Don’t get me wrong, you literally look so beautiful—but—“ He smiled looking down at her clothing. 

“Yeah—right!” She excused herself, not forgetting to kiss his cheek, before running back to her room, where Emma was waiting with the red dress and had pulled out some heels for her. 

Emma  walked out of the room, “hello, Tom, long time no see,” she said with sarcasm. 

“I know, these couple hours have been long,” Tom joked back, as he had walked in. 

Tim had followed after. It felt so tense, Emma could swear she could cut the tension with a knife. 

Emma hummed a fake laugh. “There are flower vases over there, you can guess which ones are y/n’s now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna steal Tim from you just a bit, I hope you don’t miss him as much.”

Emma had dragged Tim to her own room. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Emma snapped. 

“A lot of things,” Tim answered. “But let’s not go there, please.” 

“Oh don’t play that with me, I know exactly what you’re doing, and Tim—“

“I’m not—“

“Don’t fucking pull the whole I’m not doing anything bullshit with me,” she rolled her eyes. “I know exactly what you’re doing, and I’m sure you gave her the Polaroid today, really? Exactly when you know she’ll go on a date with Tom? And you take her to the stairs? So he can see it right?

Tim clenched his jaw. “I—Well.” 

“Sabotaging her relationship is not the way to go, Tim,” Emma warned him. “And I—I just told you—Best thing you could try is...move on, alright? I know you love her and that she was—She seemed perfect for you, and I still think you guys worked so well together but… She is so in love with him, and by doing this you’re only hurting her more—Besides, really Tim, you know her better than this,” she pushed. “I—“ Emma sighed. “I'm telling you this because I love you, I don’t want to sound harsh but—“She closed her eyes. “I know she is confused, and making her even more confused won’t help you, let her settle it, let her have it right now.” 

Tim didn’t say anything and just walked out of the room. He had gone to his room and unfortunately had left his door open to see y/n walking out on a red dress to run over excitedly to Tom, who had pulled her close to him to kiss her cheek and smell her perfume. 

Timmy knew Emma was right, y/n was in love with him. So, very deeply in love. And it hurt, seeing her. And Timmy asked for more patience, or for more time, or strength to move on. 

It felt weird, Tim felt lonely and broken hearted, and he just missed her, and it was stupidly incredible that she lived right there in the same apartment. He knew she loved Tom, that was it but it…. It still didn’t make any sense. Honestly, it felt like they were completely strangers. 

Especially y/n, she really felt like a stranger, even to Tom it seemed. She seemed too… distant to everyone.

Tom felt it, too. He felt that y/n was just off, even if she was happy or tried to be and even if she was kissing his cheek, she was being… different. And Tom only wanted to get over with it, the awkwardness. 

And he wondered if she wanted to get over with it, too. 

They went out for dinner, not in the place where she’d imagine Tom would take her, it was a nice dinner place with lightbulbs hanging around, a flower in a glass bottle, candles around, very… cozy, and romantic, and they were talking about barely anything, and maybe for a bit it felt like they were each other again. 

Y/N knew this, she felt weird with herself, as if even when she seemed to be saying what she wanted to say, she really wasn’t saying what her heart wanted, but as if her own heart was keeping secrets. It felt like Tom didn’t know her, though. And it had never felt that way before, but it felt like they were both trying to get to know each other again. Because neither of them were being themselves, not entirely. 

“So, you were clearly not talking about pictures with Tim,” Tom had mentioned. 

y/n looked at him and nodded. “Yeah, I wasn’t….”

“So?” Tom seemed anxious about it. 

“He gave me a birthday present, a…he gave me a polaroid,” she cleared up. “A vintage, original one.” 

“Oh, that’s cool,” Tom nodded, and gulped. “As long as he doesn’t give you a ring.” 

She rolled her eyes. “Tom.” 

Tom shrugged. 

“I… told him,” she cleared her throat. “That well… it’s you.” 

“It’s me?” Tom wondered, and a smile came to his face. “What am I?” 

She rolled her eyes, chuckling softly. “An idiot, that’s what you are.” 

Tom chuckled. “Uh-huh, I am, and what else?” 

She blushed. “Nothing.” 

Tom hadn’t pushed it any further. Their conversation kept flowing. Talking about them. What made them so… them. 

“I remember that everyone was in love with this one guy, ugh, what’s his name? The one that bullied you,” Y/N tried to recall. 

“Edward,” Tom remembered. “He was so big.” 

“Well, everyone had a crush except me, because well, I was the idiot, you know?” 

“You loved that scrawny guy who-” 

“Adorable guy,” she added. 

“Scrawny guy,” he continued. “Who did ballet and everyone crushed on Edward, who-” 

“I actually was… dating Louis back then,” she recalled. “But…” She chuckled. “But my point is… I was the one who… hid a rat in his car.” 

“No way!” Tom’s eyes popped as he leaned over. “You’re kidding.” 

“I… Look, nobody could be an asshole to you unless it was me, that was-” She was nervous. “I was so angry at everything he said at you, I…” She rolled her eyes. “And I… genuinely don’t know.” 

“Where in this bloody world did you get a rat from?” He wondered. “I mean thank you but I didn’t think you’d-” 

“Please I had experience from pranks for you so of course…” She gulped, hiding a laugh. “I...Well, there was a rat in Louis' house, and well they trapped it and instead of… you know killing it I… well told Louis to break into Ed’s car and I hid the rat there.” 

Tom was shocked. “And that was because of me?” 

“No, I hated Ed,” she looked away. “He was the biggest asshole.” 

Tom grinned. “Are you sure? Because I remember that rat incident being right after he had hit me in the hall.” 

“Really?” y/n coughed. “I wouldn’t remember,” she blushed looking away. 

“Which actually brought attention to me, they said it had been me!” He recalled. “I got into detention.”

Y/N grinned. “Yeah, killed two birds in one shot,” she smirked. 

“I’m serious did you-?” 

“Yeah, maybe I did it for you, okay? Whatever, yes, I had feelings for you and I was angry someone else was taking away my job, let’s remember we were enemies back then, alright?” She was nervous. 

Tom smirked. “You had a crush on me.” 

“Shut up,” she chuckled. “You had a crush on me, too.” 

Tom shrugged, smiling. “Yeah, I did. I’m not trying to hide it.

Y/N avoided his gaze, not believing he was actually making her feel butterflies, even after all this time, she was still nervous. In a good way. She wasn’t always nervous, most of the time, she didn’t, she felt so calm around him, but on the edge, as if she didn’t need to worry about being herself but expectant of each other’s attitude. 

Tom watched her, “Why do I always feel like there’s always something on your mind?” 

“Because there is,” she laughed. “Don’t you?” 

“No, I’m dumb, remember? I can actually blank up my mind,” he smirked. “Or well, not at all. There is a constant on my mind,” he had reached for her hand. 

“Oh?” her eyes had brightened up, a timid smile on her face. 

“Yeah, Spiderman,” he joked, earning a glare from y/n. 

It was so stupid. But they were… back being them. Probably because they were alone. As if someone was brushing y/n’s dream, and she couldn’t get enough of him, his laugh was her everything. She couldn’t help but sigh and run out of breath, and never stop blushing, there was no doubt about it. And she had once thought about it, ‘the day that Tom loves me, the world will party’. She had been wrong, the world wasn’t partying, and there were no flowers blooming and no fireworks. The world instead, stopped, as if it was them and only them. The stars were probably jealous of them seeing them shining even more brightly than them. 

“You know, from the moment we met,” he had said. 

“When we were kids, you mean?” She chuckled . 

“Truly met,” Tom gulped. “Rome, I mean.” 

She blinked. “Yeah.” 

“I… Why didn’t you kiss me?” He asked. 

“Hm? When?” 

“That one night, you know the one, lovely evening, I remember I asked for a kiss,” he recalled. “And… you said and I quote: ‘No, Thomas, don’t ask for a kiss’.” 

She looked away, remembering. “Because I didn’t want you to ask for it.” 

He frowned. 

“It’s silly but that’s the way I am, I didn’t want you to ask for it, I was clearly begging for one,” she explained. “I wanted you to… do it. One should never ask for a kiss, or not… verbally.” 

“How so?”

“I mean certain contexts,” y/n said. “But that night? I thought I had hinted it enough 

“So you did want me to kiss you,” He grinned. 

“Of course!” She beamed. “I—it’s not secret by now that I—“she cleared her throat. “Well, enjoy when our lips come together.” 

“Oh, so you enjoy that?” He mocked. 

“Very much so,” she answered shyly. “And—it had been the perfect evening! It would’ve cost you nothing,” she smiled. 

“Cost me nothing,” he laughed. 

“I think you’ll find that kissing me is quite cheap,” she pointed out.

He scrunched his nose. “That’s a lie.” 

“No, no, I was the one who could lose there,” she sighed.

 “No, y/n. Because kissing you costs a lifetime.” 

She scoffed. “How so?” 

“I kissed you once when I was 13 and never stopped thinking about it,” he said. “And after that evening.” 

“Would I have been so bad?” She questioned, “if we had realized it back then.”

“Think we did,” he said, “but you didn’t kiss me either.” 

“No, but—because you had asked for it.” 

“You’re right… I should’ve, but there’s a lot of things I should’ve done...still can’t believe it, how stupid I was,” he said. 

“It didn’t click you know,” she nodded. “When you broke my heart,” she continued. “I mean, the excuses you gave me… They didn’t make any sense.” 

Tom looked down. 

“And…” She sighed. 

“Would you’ve forgiven me? If I had come earlier?” He asked. 

She stared at him. “Maybe,” she admitted. “Probably, if I’m honest… I did wait for you to come again with yellow flowers, and I’d have my hand right in my heart, and I would wait for you to come and apologize and I would see it, you know, wait for you to stand up in the rain and said you didn’t mean it, and I… I was angry, alright? It was stupid letting my life pass by waiting for it besides the whole scenario...but then again, it wa shot and it’s still you and I’m—it’s silly.” 

“It’s not silly,” Tom said. “It’s you,” he took a deep breath, “and I knew you’d like that… kind of stuff, but when I finally realized it, it was too late.” 

“But it’s not late now,” she admitted. “We’re finally on time. And I’m glad I’ve always been so stubborn when it comes to you because otherwise we wouldn’t be here.” 

The evening had continued to flow, as both of them had become quieter, in a way that they didn’t need to talk to communicate, between whispers and giggles and hand brushing, it was all they needed. 

The ticking had stopped, y/n had noticed. It’d come, she knew but… God, when she was with him, she didn’t have to worry about anything. Because it seemed that it was made for them, all her doubts disappeared because he was the answer she needed. It was them against the world. 

They hadn’t talked about Valerie and William, not that night. It was Tom and y/n,.

They hadn’t kissed. Tom had ceased the kissing when James had arrived, which y/n hated, she missed his lips so much her own were begging for them. She wouldn’t ask for it. Never ask for a kiss, not out loud. 

She was wearing his jacket back on their way, he had said: ‘I wasn’t cold but I knew you’d be so that’s why I brought it’. Her hand was on his hair as he drove, listening to music, windows down as they hummed the lyrics, and as y/n stared down at the lights the city was giving her, her hair flying. 

She was sad, though, Tom hadn’t even tried to lean over and kiss her, not even seeing a hint of him trying to do so. 

They had walked in, the guys seemed to be all too invested in a video game, all except for Clark who was rather interested in playing with James’ hair as y/n’s brother yelled at the screen. He looked up when seeing them walk in, he smiled at the sight of y/n’s shoulders being covered by Tom’s jacket. 

“Hello, you two,” Clark had greeted them. 

Tom peeked to see the screen, not letting go of y/n’s hand. 

“Hi,” y/n said, knowing she’d most likely lose Tom’s attention to the screen. 

“How did it go?” Clark asked.

“Bloody hell, Samuel!” James yelled. 

“Piss off,” Harry yelled, too. 

y/n chuckled. “It went well,” she said. 

“Well?” Tom lost focus of the screen, as he turned to her. “Well?” 

She ignored him and kept staring at Clark. “Can you believe the evening has gone by so splendidly but he still hasn’t kissed me?” 

Tom immediately blushed. 

“Good,” said James. “Kissing is gross.” 

“Is it?” Clark asked before kissing his cheek. 

James coughed. “Straight kissing is gross,” he corrected himself. 

Harry laughed. 

Sam scrunched his nose. “Why haven’t you kissed her? you usually bloody eat each other’s faces.” 

Harry scoffed. 

“Don’t you dare eat my sister’s face,” James warned. “Or anything for that matter.” 

“James,” y/n closed her eyes. 

Tom laughed. “We’re gonna…” 

“No, why don’t you guys stay? We were about to play Mario Kart” Offered James. “So why don’t you both play with all of us, you know you can sit over there with your brother and y/n can sit over here, everyone’s happy.” 

“Jamey, love, don’t be a dick,” warned Clark. 

Y/N chuckled. “Fine, I want to play,” she admitted. 

“Great, mario kart is the real deal breaker between couples.” 

Of course, they hadn’t followed James’ instruction for their sitting arrangement, y/n had sat on the couch, and Tom had sat on the floor, resting his back against her. Y/N was still bothered by the fact she hadn’t yet been kissed that night, but she soon forgot it as it felt like one of those nights when they were younger, all of them playing and yelling at each other. 

Tom had left the room without any explanation at some point, but she was too busy trying to beat her brother at rainbow road to even notice. 

Time went by, and before she knew it, the lights had gone off, and they all had turned with a smirk as Tom had walked in with a cake with candles. 

‘Happy Birthday’ they all sang as she stared at the cake, pretty cake, sunflowers again. Tom kissing her cheek. 

It felt… like years ago, the Holland’s, James, and now Clark, too, of course it was Tom holding the cake now, not Harry, and now she didn’t have a wish, usually she’d plan ahead her birthday wishes, because that’s something James had taught her to. Instead, she wished for everything to keep flowing as easy as it could with Tom. Funny, how many birthday wishes had not involved him already. 

They had sat and ate cake like old times, y/n smearing some frosting to Tom’s cheek and then kissing it off, making the boy blush and getting James to glare at her. Laughing at each other, telling old jokes as y/n was laying against Tom, his arms around her and his lips brushing against her head. 

How many years had they not wasted by being enemies. 

Eventually, they had all gone to bed knowing the next day would expect them, except for Clark and James who had stayed in the kitchen. 

Tom and y/n had stayed on the couch. 

“So, I’m gonna be honest,” Tom had said as he had sat with her, he had left yet again to get something 

She only stared into his eyes, begging her with her sight to kiss her already. She should’ve probably wished for that, instead. 

“I—this wasn’t going to be your birthday present.” 

“You didn’t need to get me anything,” she said. 

He had sat up and pulled out a small box, he seemed nervous, but excited. The box… gave her shivers. But it couldn’t be. 

Y/n only smiled watching him, resenting her head against her palm. 

“I—back when,” he gulped, “back when I was still in London debating whether or not to direct dos-a-dos,” he continued. “I—well.” 

“Yeah?” 

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you because—Well,” he grinned. “I am so stupidly in love with you.” 

She only blushed. 

“So—one day,” he gulped. “I went—Well, you know, to the mall and whatsoever, and—I saw this shop.” 

“Right.” 

“And so I bought a pair of boots for me,” he said, leaning against the couch, trying to recall. “They were very—nice, you know?” 

“Uh—huh,” she rolled her eyes. “And did you bring those boots to LA?”

“No, I didn’t,” he side eyed her, “should’ve, you would have loved them.” 

Y/n rolled her eyes giggling. “I bet.” 

“But anyway, after I bought the boots—I passed by that shop you like.” 

Y/n blinked. “Care to be more specific?” 

“The one with the vinyls, and vintage stuff,” he reminded her, but she looked down at the tiny box he was holding, it definitely wasn’t anything from that shop. 

“Oh, yeah, love that place,” she smiled. 

“Yeah, and I—went in,” he admitted. “And I couldn’t stop thinking about you, everything they had… so I—“

She just waited for him to continue. 

“I bought a fee vinyls for me, too,” he nodded seriously.

 Y/n bit her lip, holding back a laugh, “amazing, which ones did you buy?” 

“I bought a Beatles one… uh, Queen.” 

“Great choices,” she grinned. “I’m proud.” 

“And of course Rolling Stones, because I thought of you,” he said. 

Y/n scooted closer to him to gently run her hands through his hair, he couldn’t hide his smile. 

“And then—One day, I went out again,” he grinned. 

“Hm-hm?” 

He coughed, “yeah, and I walked again to that one other shop you like, the one with the clothes.” 

“With the clothes,” she laughed. 

“Yeah, you know the one,” he chuckled, avoiding her gaze. 

“And did you get in?” She asked. 

“No,” he grinned. “I went for an ice cream, you know, I was really craving one.” 

She stared at him, so mesmerized by him, even when he was being the silliest. “God, I love you,” she blurted out, without really thinking of it. That’s how it should be, realy. Nothing wrong with that. 

He finally locked his eyes with her and smiled, he took her hand in his and kissed it. “Yeah, so—“he grinned, “none of that has to do with your birthday present.” 

Y/n chuckled. “Really? I thought the birthday present would be seeing you with those boots and dancing with you to the music on those vinyls and eating ice cream.” 

“Ah, that would’ve been great huh,” he grinned staring into her eyes. 

“Would’ve loved that.”

“I actually did bring the vinyls,” he admitted. 

She kissed his temple. “Great, let’s play them—“

“Yeah, but—I haven’t finished,” he admitted. “I… Well, I've had a lot of time, you know? To reflect on—on the script, on us. But especially the script.” 

Y/n stared at the features on his face, fixating on the freckles on his nose as he kept talking. 

“So, I kept avoiding the script, even if I wanted to direct it because—Well, it was your dream, I remember and I think I’ll never forget how in Rome you told me your biggest dream was making a film of a ballerina,” he said. “I—well, and I wanted to read it, but I couldn’t because I thought—well, dunno, having something yet to read was something I still had to look forward to, you know? And so I kept listening to the vinyls because they reminded me of you, and I kept—trying to find you everywhere, alright?” He confessed. “On every single face and—The days just went by and I—eventually read it.” 

Y/n silently watched him. 

“And I fell in love with it, because—it’s you. The script is so—you, it was like reading an open book about you, and I don’t mean it in the way that it’s our story, like I genuinely—you really poured heart and soul in it, the songs you put in, the setting—and, well, it was really you, you know? I know you’ve always loved 80’s movies because they seem so ridiculous but so magical.“

Y/n chuckled nervously. “Where are you going with this?”

“I know it’s your biggest dream,” he sentenced. “And well—I’m sorry I didn’t get you a pair of boots like mine.” 

She laughed rolling her eyes. 

“And I didn’t get a vinyl.” 

“Tommy,” she nudged him. 

He only handed it to her, the small box. A very stupid and scary suspicion in her head had completely been erased as she picked the small box.

As she opened it, it revealed a necklace with a small pendant of a ballerina hanging from it. The brightest beam had appeared on y/n’s face. 

“I know you’ve—never liked the idea of someone giving you jewelry, especially bracelets or necklace because they don’t hold any meaning, but—I think—I know you’re not a dancer but, I think Valerie is your own special project, and—“Tom grinned. “I was saving it to give it to you on the premier but—“

“I love it, I...No, really this… This is perfect,” she whispered looking at it. Tom had once taught her that roses weren’t always basic. And Tom had now proven to her that this didn’t have to be either, because it was them, and it held such a special meaning to her. 

She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he only smiled. 

“I was gonna give you a T—“

“As in Troy?” She mocked. 

“That’s exactly why I didn’t.”

She laughed. “I love it.” 

He looked deep into her eyes and she just waited for it… But he didn’t kiss her. 

“Yeah, so, let’s go to sleep,” he quickly stood up, letting her fall flat on the couch. 

“Thomas,” she hissed playfully. He had already left, and she could feel his smirk from afar, so she followed after him. 

“So, you can have my bed, I’m gonna leave to sleep on the couch because that was my agreement with James,” he explained, picking up his stuff as soon as she got to the room. 

She frowned. “No?” 

“Yes,” he replied cockily. 

“I’m not letting you leave until you bloody kiss me,” she replied. 

He paused and then turned with a proud smug smirk, “Then that gives me even more reasons not to kiss you.” 

She opened her mouth to complain, but really she was in such a state of shock that not a single word came out. 

“Goodnight love,” he grinned as he headed to the door. 

“Why are you like this?” She rolled her eyes, giggling. 

Tom took a deep breath before staring her down. 

“For the love of god, kiss me.” 

“No.” 

“Why not?” 

“One shall never ask for a kiss,” he replied smugly. 

“Are you kidding me?” She closed her eyes, not believing it. 

“No, you said it yourself,” he grinned. “Not verbally.” 

“Just shut up and come here, idiot,” she laughed before pulling him close to her, finally placing her lips on him. It felt like just the very first time, Tom and her had that magic, of making each and every kiss feel like they’ve never kissed before, so unique and so perfectly synchronized with each other. 

“Don’t you guys fucking dare to do anything,” James was just walking by with a glass of water. “People need to sleep.” 

Clark had mouthed an apology before following after. 

Y/n had pulled away and then smirked. “Want to prank him?” 

Tom had only given her a weird face. 

Y/N knew James was staying right on the next room, and that she definitely was not going to be able to do anything without him hearing, that of course, meant she could piss him off, to get back at him for being a dick. 

Y/N explained her idea to Tom, and he immediately accepted, with the sole condition to leave the door open so his life could actually be spared. 

Both Tom and y/n had settled in their places, sitting right on top of the bed, right against the headboard which was conveniently against James’ wall. 

And so they started.

Both of them repeatedly, and in perfect sync started, Tom hitting his elbows against the headboard, making sure the noise it made was perfectly identifiable as something else as y/n was jumping on the bed. 

A faint “no, no, no, no, fucking hell, no,”  had been yelled from the other room. 

Tom and y/n tried to hide in their laughter, but proceeded to make it even worse, adding dramatic moans and “oh yes!” “Y/n!” “Right there!” “Tommy!” In between. 

“NO FUCKING WAY!” Now it had been louder. 

“Jamey, love—“ 

Tom and y/n smirked and went in even louder, “yes!” “So tight!” “Harder!” “Yes, yes, yes, yes!” 

“No! No! No! No! Bloody hell y/n I’m in the bloody next room!” James yelled. “I’m gonna kill you, Thomas!” 

And then they heard the loud and quick stumping as James’ door was open as he ran to knock on y/n’s and Tom’s door, but instead, the door was wide open and he could see what actually was happening, Tom and y/n, fully clothed and not even an inch close. 

That’s when both y/n and Tom lost it, bursting into laughter. 

“YOU GUYS FUCKING SUCK!” James yelled at them before joining in their laughter, red from embarrassment. 

Clark had followed right after, laughing with them. “So that—“

Y/n couldn’t stop her laughter, even tears had come down her cheek as she stared at her brother so embarrassed, watching them. 

“I can’t believe you fell for that!” Y/N had laughed. 

Clark couldn’t stop giggling either. 

“And by the way, thanks Clark,” Tom laughed, “you’re a real one.” 

“I fucking hate you all,” James rolled his eyes. 

“Now let’s go for the real one,” Tom had joked, probably with a death wish, but he quickly regretted it, “no, no, no, I’m joking! I’m joking!” 

“You bet your ass you’re joking,” James warned before laughing again, defeated, “I hate you both.” 

He had left with Clark laughing behind him, leaving y/n and Tom still laughing at their prank. 

Laughing and laughing until they ran out of breath and laughed again. 

“Shit, I love you so much,” Tom had said with one last breath after laughing. 

“I love you, too,” she had said, “that was the best fake sex I’ve had in my life.” 

“Hm, I’m pretty sure I’ve given you the best non fake one, too,” he had said cockily. 

“Non fake,” she scoffed. 

But then they’ve gone back to laughing, eventually somehow it transformed into kissing, and they had spent the night kissing, and giggling and nothing more, probably because they were aware that it was a very risky situation having James right beside and honestly, they were decent but mostly because they didn’t need more. Just the two of them laying down, and merging their lips together, becoming one with the other, was all they needed. 

The next day was rather perfect, filming had gone as smoothly as it could go, and though they kept their distance because they were professionals, y/n could tell there was something different about her and Tom. Not sure what but it felt like things could work out. A ray of hope, if one must say. 

There had been more cake, more people congratulating her for her birthday and just—Flowers. Sunflowers here and there, Along with blue hydrangeas. Pretty combination. Tom had made sure to fill up the place. She did love the sunflowers. Her mother calling her, auntie Eliza sending her pink carnations, it was—good. Especially after they told everyone about their prank, that made it even better. 

“You do have that fake sex aftermath glow,” Emma had joked. 

Perfect day, a perfect day until the sun was yawning down, she had put on her best clothes, and she was nervous. Not sure why though.

Tom had invited the cast as well. Nothing could go wrong, and it definitely wasn’t going to, right? Y/N had thought maybe it was a good day after all. 

The place had been packed and the first song playing had been Ironic by Alanis Morissette, James had been the first one to point it out, he really liked that song. And though the combination of friends seemed like the perfect recipe for disaster, y/n thought it had gone calmly. At least at the beginning. 

The club seemed to be picked out of y/n’s dreams, an 80’s and 70’s paradise playing the songs she loved to sing along to. There was a karaoke, too, in the background, separate from the dance floor. Honestly, the place was perfect. Fun. 

And y/n had ignored Cherry’s presence as long as she could, she hadn’t been rude, but of course she’d been avoiding her, because the moment she saw her, y/n did feel insecure. She had shown up with a tight dress that gave nothing to the imagination, and her hair perfectly falling down her shoulders, her whole body shimmered. She was beautiful, beyond compare, perfect. 

“Y/N!” She had greeted her. “I’m so glad I see you, I love your dress, hun, happy birthday!” 

Her high pitched tone had only made y/n even more insecure. And y/n had seen her dancing, she’d caught Josh’s attention, it had seemed. Even Asa’s and Gregg’s attention. Because of course she would, the girl was perfect. 

“Is Tim your boyfriend?” Cherry had asked y/n. 

“What?” Y/N didn’t know if she’d heard right. “No… No, he’s not.” 

“Oh, I thought he was!” 

“Happy birthday!” Someone had yelled as they popped off a bottle. 

Y/N could take care of Cherry later, who was actually picking out mostly everyone’s attention. 

“Who is she?” Josh had asked her. “If it weren’t for Emma, I’d say she’s the prettiest girl in the world.” 

There was a lot to unpack from Josh’ statement. 

“That’s my cousin,” she explained. “She’s single, so why don’t you give it a go?” Y/N had suggested, knowing perfectly that if he did, she’d take away another problem. Because she’d seen Harry anxious the moment Josh had showed up.  

Y/N didn’t know why she felt like Harry did know about Josh, she wasn’t sure but the same face Harry was giving Josh was the face Y/N gave to Cherry. 

Initially, she had seen Cherry approach Tom, she had whispered  something in his ear, and he had only gulped before walking off to one of his brothers. It made y/n anxious. 

“You know what? You should go and sing Jolene,” Emma suggested, y/n could tell that Emma probably was slightly dizzy, as she had dragged her, Clark and Auli’i to the dance floor, a...very strange combination. Y/N was just a bit bothered by this, since she wanted to be with Tom, or rather, she wanted to pull him away from where Cherry was. 

“Jolene?” Auli’i laughed. Felt rather weird for y/n hanging out with celebrities. Tom didn’t count… Not in that way, at least. 

“Yes, Jolene,” Emma said. “I’m begging you please don’t take my man!” 

“Your man?” Auli’i had asked. “As in Tom?” 

Y/N chuckled. “Uh...Well….er.” 

“Please, you’re dating, right?” She laughed. 

Y/N didn’t answer. 

“Please, it’s kind of obvious,” Auli’i explained. “You guys have tried to be subtle but we all know it.” 

Well, there goes their attempt at trying to be professional. It didn’t matter, honestly. But it did bother her knowing that Cherry was the only girl in there, but thankfully, her own brother had kept Cherry occupied, thank god.  

Y/N was also bothered by the fact Tom wasn’t by her side,  just slightly bothered. She guessed, however, that he was having fun with his brothers. She wondered where Timmy was, because all she could see was the guys, and Cherry, at the table getting their asses drunk. 

Especially Timmy. 

Emma had dragged them back to the place, y/n had  tried to get close to Tom, who had also tried to pull her close to him, but somehow she had been dragged away again. It was annoying, and the night kept going like that. She hadn’t had one single minute with Tom, and it was bothering her. Tom, too, it seemed. 

Tom was very bothered by the fact that y/n kept being pulled by her friends, not that they were doing it to specifically bother him, but it was… annoying. Also, having Cherry around, was not a perfect situation, especially because she was insisting on talking to him. What in this world was she trying to do? 

He didn’t want to deal with that, he only wanted to have fun. Besides, a club with loud music was definitely not the place to talk. Not on his… girlfriend’s? Birthday celebration. 

The night was getting blurry, to him, to everyone. Half past twelve, it was getting darker, and the drinks had come and gone, drink after drink.  Everyone seemed to be having a very good time, and he wasn’t sure but the lights on the club had probably lowered, flashes green and yellow were blinding him. The group was constantly divided, and he had had only a small chance to dance with y/n. The music was buzzing too loud, as he escaped through the crowds, trying to find y/n, and he saw her, dancing with everyone and then, Timmy had dragged her close to him, she didn’t even notice as she danced and sang along to the… 70’s, yeah 70’s song playing. Tom feared it, because it’s not difficult to know when someone wants to kiss the person you’re in love with. Tim was drunk, Tom knew this, and the look in his eyes was saying everything. And though he didn’t see that look on y/n, he feared it. 

Tom quickly had pulled her by the hand and finally wrapped his arms around her so they could dance. 

Tim had only rolled his eyes but kept dancing with Emma. 

“Hi!” y/n had cheered as soon as she saw Tom. 

“Hey!” 

“Where have you been?” She asked, leaning to his ear.  

“Here and there,” he admitted, she only giggled to lean over to kiss him. 

Everything was going too quickly, the lights and music were not helping. They had barely danced before Emma had dragged y/n. 

“I’m sorry, Tom, but it’s y/n’s and I turn to go to the karaoke!” Emma had said before getting her away. 

“You were getting too comfortable,” Tom had barked at Tim. 

“Pff,” Tim had scoffed. “You’re scared it’ll happen again?” 

“What?” Tom frowned. “I’m-- she’s with me.” 

“Yet she slept with me just before you arrived,” Tim had blurted. 

Tom had felt the music getting louder, and louder, just as Tim had left and Tom was sunk into the dancing crowd. 

He didn’t have to believe him… right? 

In the state of shock, he only tried to follow after where Emma and y/n were heading.The karaoke music was playing, Emma had chosen ‘Gimme, Gimme, Gimme (A Man after midnight!)’ for her and y/n to sing, and they had started, happily singing as she was so unaware of what Tom was feeling right now. Not sure if it was anger, disappointment, jealousy, or all at once. 

The group had followed after them, too, as they were expectant to see the birthday girl, first receiving a very flattering shot of… Tom thought it was probably vodka as soon as she got to the stage. Emma and her sang and yelled, and the group danced and danced. Emma being such a crowd pleaser, yelling and making them cheer. 

Tom couldn't. 

Is there a man out there? Someone to hear my prayers…

There was no sight of Tim, that was alright, he guessed. But then it… Tom’s mind went to every single time he’d seen her around Tim. It was so fucking obvious, of course they had slept together, and y/n probably still had feelings for him. 

Tom was the only one who wasn’t dancing. 

Emma had jumped off the stage to land on Josh, and then without even thinking about it, she had kissed him, right in front of Harry. 

Sam and Clark had joined y/n on the stage, everyone was just too bloody drunk, and the song seemed to be never ending. Or maybe Tom hadn’t noticed when it had changed, it sounded like another ABBA song. And it was… ‘Voulez-Vous’. Now it was Y/N, Sam and Clark. 

Tom didn’t even realize when Cherry was around him, and it probably was the alcohol working out but he danced with her. Not sure why. 

Y/N saw it, right from the stage, but luckily Clark had been kind enough to dance with her as someone else had hopped to the stage to sing with them, now that y/n was definitely not able to sing. 

And just as the song was ending, and as the next group of girls had popped on the stage,  she saw it, perfectly happening, Cherry’s lips were on Tom’s. 

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