#i did get one of each golden house drop this week which is slightly better than last week but god

[hydrachea]

Oh boy monday!

[wizkiddx]

hiii!!! omg please please pleasee do a part two of 3 hearts broken cus it fucking slaps miss girl

part 2 to 3 broken hearts!!! ive been so 🥺 at all the lovely comments+interest pt 1 had so thanku all !

summary: serious serious angst again will tom somehow get it back (unlike looking cos boy is a fool)

warnings: again lots of swearing (im British sorry not sorry) / wayyyy too much tea / slating Dom abit (obvs fictional but idk if I like the guy sorry his opinions are :/) / commitment issues

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read part 1 here!!!!

That was three days ago now. Three days since you'd spoken to your boyfrien- well, Tom. It wasn't evident what the situation was.

The typical British weather brought with it the most ironic pathetic fallacy you could ever see. The clouds were dark and glooming, firing angry pellets of rain out as hard as they could. When you had pulled up on the roadside, it had just been a light drizzle but synchronised with your anxiety levels rising - so did the rain. When you finally opened up the car door, you threw your hoodie open with a sigh before running up the pathway to the front door.

It was the same burgundy red that you knew so well, but this time instead of just letting yourself in - you stood in the rain used the brass knocker thing twice. To be honest, you were hoping that no one was home - but in that house, it was pretty unlikely. After 30 seconds of getting drenched in the downpour, you were about to let yourself in with the spare key before the door swung open.

"Oh! Er Y/n?"

"Yeh um hi." You had to shout a bit over the sound of what must now be classified as a storm.

"Toms not-"

"I know. Can I come in?" As awkward and stunted as this conversation was, if you didn't get out of the rain asap you would literally end up drowned.

“Oh er yeh-yeh yeh come in.”

Harry stammered as he held the door open, gesturing for you to enter into the tiled hallway. Gratefully, you followed, throwing your sopping wet hood back down and wiping your feet on the floor.

"Sorry for just showing up, but I left some scripts here. My management are on my arse to read them and-"

"And you waited till Tom left for mum and dads?" The fluffy-haired boy has caught you red-handed; there was no defence, so you didn't even try.

Because yes, you knew on a Friday afternoon when Tom was home he would always, like clockwork, go to his parents just to kick back and watch gogglebox with both of them. It was only natural then that you chose Friday afternoon to come and pick up your stuff.

"I've been waiting in my car for half an hour till I saw him leave." Harry half laughed at that, still the two of you standing opposite each other in the hallway. "Um, do you… do you hate me Harry?"

Clearly, he hadn't quite been expecting your question going by the way his eyes almost bugged out his head.

"No, I-I, of course, I don't… look, I'm home alone so you fancy a cuppa?" Not being able to help the small chuckle, you nodded appreciatively, following Harry through the house.

"Your answer to everything is tea."

Harry had prepared the two mugs in silence as you sat at the table waiting patiently - if nervously too. You didn't miss how Harry had still used your favourite mug, having had to dig through the cupboard to find the weird square-shaped thing. Once done, he rounded the kitchen island and placed it in front of you, which you instantly cradled in two hands - for the hope of warming you up.

"You cold?" Obviously, it was pretty evident that sitting in your rain-soaked hoodie was not cosy at all. "Hang on a sec."

The boy sprung up again, returning moments later with a hoodie in hand, one he offered out to you with a little smile. The issue was that him and Tom shared clothes, so the hoodie he was kindly offering to you also had been worn by Tom before. Which made it hurt a little bit to wear. It was better than sitting soaked through though.

"How have you been then?"

"Not the best, to be honest, but uh… how about you?"

"Being with Tom while he's fighting with you? Oh, it's a barrel of laughs. You might've escaped it, but I haven't." He was trying to lighten the mood, and you appreciated it, offering him a half-smile that didn't really meet your eyes.

"Yeh sorry about that."

"Don't apologise; it doesn't sound like it's your fault Y/n."

That surprised you. Tom, especially when he was in moods like he was when you argued, wasn't one to admit when he was wrong. It was usually how the world was against him and how he was so hard done by. Accepting responsibility was something he hadn't said to you yet - but at least, small steps.

"He say that?"

"Pretty much… doesn't seem like he's angry at you, but-but he's still angry."

"At the world?" You rolled your eyes; this seemed to be the same old Tom through and through. Still immature. Still not with the right mindset.

"At himself." Harry countered, slightly entertained, when he saw the flash of surprise in your face as he sipped his drink. "And me… if I dare to so much as breathe this week."

This time you properly laughed, and Harry joined in too before the room fell back to silence - except the noise of the rain hitting the garden patio slats. You swirled the tea round in your mug, feeling the brunette's eyes on you. He'd always been your fake little brother too, since you'd met the Hollands way back 3 and a half years ago. Tom and yourself were barely adults, which meant the twins were still proper children. Harry had always been the one that understood you. Hollands, by nature, loved humans - loved to talk, to chat, to gossip. But sometimes, doing all that socialising got too much for you, as it did for Harry. He was the only one that seemed to understand social exhaustion. So when those moments had hit, you'd kept each other company in silence.

He got you, sometimes in ways your own boyfriend didn't.

"You know why he got so worked up, right?" You shook your head, looking up curiously. "Dad got under his skin on his birthday zoom thing."

Ah, now that did seem to coincide with the start of Tom's more petulant phase. To be fair, Tom had been asking to move in together for near enough a year now - but it was only in the past month it seemed to be the only thing you'd talk about and obviously only three days since the flight back. Dom's birthday barely a week ago, whilst you and Tom were both filming - except Tom had managed to get a day off where you hadn't. So you hadn't heard this conversation.

"What'd he say?"

"Was talking about how he and mum were settling down at Toms age, joked about how you rejected him, said maybe you were holding out for something better."

"Something better?" Harry sighed, leaning forward onto his elbows.

"He'd seen an article just off a trashy tabloid… it named you Hollywood's golden girl or something, said you could have the pick of any person on the planet…"

Of all the people in the world, why is Tom affected by shit journalism? He knows how much bullshit people write. He knows how it's all made up, exaggerated nonsense. And what he should know, completely and totally, is how much you love him. And if he didn't, was that your fault? Had you done something wrong, something to make him doubt you?

Harry seemed to notice the internal dialogue going on in your head, adding to the point. "It wasn't the article though, it was the fact dad said it."

Hmmm.

You and Dom got on; it wasn't like you hated the possible future father in law or whatever. Just…. you had very different outlooks. As much as Tom prided himself on how' grounded his family keeps him' -to you at least, they aren't entirely at sea level either. They'd never really had any particular struggles in life. They were the definition of middle class, and that's about it. They lived in a posh suburb of London, had all their family still around. It was the perfect family.

And whilst you were in no illusions about how privileged your life was now. It hadn't always been. You'd never had the 'nuclear' family. Instead, only your dad and a string of dodgy and fleeting stepmothers while struggling to make ends meet. So you were just always wary of Dom, of his opinions that so often his boys took for gospel. They always seemed pretty sheltered and close-minded.

And yet, Tom was a grown man.

"I get that, I just… Tom should know that we know more about our relationship than his dad. I mean,… have I done something wrong? Made him think I'm not in this for the long haul?"

"No nonono Y/n he's just… well he's an idiot, isn't he? I don't think he properly understands why you're cautious about moving and everything. He's just an idio- "

Harry was cut off for lightly insulting his brother by the sound of the front door opening, both of your heads swivelling towards the source. You then met Harry's eyes in a panic, to which he replied relatively simply.

"Just talk to each other. For my sake." You would've argued if it weren't for the fact you were so focused on Tom's shuffling around in the entrance hallway - back early from his parents.

"Baz? Where you at? I thought I saw Y/n's car and-"

"Kitchen!!!" Before Tom could say anything else, possibly landing himself in more trouble, Harry interrupted as his chair screeched while standing up. And then Tom was just there. Standing in the doorway, his arms dropping limply to his side as he noticed you. Everything about that moment seemed to freeze, when you locked eyes with him for the first time in three days. It didn't go unnoticed, the way his Adams apple bobbed, the way his eyes widen. The boy looked plain and simply terrified.

It was Harry who broke the silence, after giving you a stern look that said 'stay'. The younger Holland boy walked up to Tom and spoke.

"Try actually talking and actually listening about your problems with each other." And then he was gone, down the hallway and up the stairs.

For a few moments, Tom stayed absolutely stationary, now staring at where Harry had been when speaking to the both of you (but mainly Tom). Long enough to put your sense of unease at an all-time high, ready to make a break for it.

"If you don't want to talk, then I can leav-"

"NO!" Apparently snapping out of it, Tom exclaimed loud enough to make you flinch from your seat. "Sorry! I-I just… I wasn't expecting to… you know, to see you."

"Yeh I just uh- just came to pick up some scripts… Harry cornered me with a tea, though; otherwise, I'd be…."

"Baz thinks the whole world could be fixed with tea."

"that's what I said!" You instinctively responded, forgetting the fact you're supposed to be mad at him, and just for a second falling back into your normal flow.

Tom didn't even try to hide his grin in response, until you quickly corrected your face- then he did too. Turning around to put the kettle on for himself. Because right now, he needed to fix his whole world, and he needed all the help he could get. For a period, the only noise was the sound of the kettle boiling, then the teaspoon clinking against the mug as he stirred - until he padded over, taking the seat across from you.

"So."

"So."

"It's been a while," Tom stated the bloody obvious.

"You never called."

"Didn't think you'd want me to."

You thought that the early signs weren't all that auspicious. His ability to read a situation once again failing.

"I wanted you to say something."

"Say what?"

"What do you think Tom?" He replied to the sarcastic tone by sucking in a sharp breath, holding it for a second, before slowly exhaling. As if trying to compose himself, take time to think of a response - a mature move for him.

"Well, I think you want me to say sorry? For being so moody and not waiting for you and for upsetting those kids. And thanks too, for covering for me?"

You just hummed. Waiting for him to continue. Because yes, you did deserve all those things. But you also deserved more. An apology for, oh I don't know, saying he didn't think you loved him? It was a wait that never ended, he had nothing more to add.

"Going by your face, I take it I missed something?"

The bloody cheek of it.

"Theres nothing else? Nothing else at all? …" You gave him that chance, the opportunity but all he could respond with was a shake of his head. "You thought I was fine about you saying that I don't love you?" You hadn't intended on raising your voice, but really you hadn't realised you did till after the fact. To blinded by rage at his ignorance.

"You want to talk about this now?"

"When else Tom?" You sighed, realising he perhaps wasn't ready for this conversation. Maybe he needed more time to think things through, have sense talked into him by various wiser family members. Or maybe, he never would be. That was the worst-case scenario. But also… you're most likely prediction.

He shuffled in his seat, clearing his voice but not saying anything. Not a peep.

"I have spent three years of my life with you. I've had countless nights of too little sleep because that was the only time you could facetime. I've exposed my relationship to the world and people's opinions because you didn't want to hide. All I've done is love you. How could you even say that?" There might've been tears in your eyes, yet you were determined to keep them at bay. You needed to have this out, one way or another, to be clear and cohesive and logical. No time to cry.

"Y/n I know that, I…" He sighed, instinctively reaching for your hand, but you were quicker to pull it away. There was hurt in his eyes, but so there should be. "It just sometimes feels like that's it for you. That yeh you love me but you just want to standstill. That this is as much as it'll ever be."

Your emotions were suddenly uncontainable. Your voice croaked as you whispered, "Have I done something wrong?"

"No love, nonono if that's how you feel then that's okay. But it's something I'm not… shit this is hard." He took a pause to take a sip of his drink, your glazed eyes never leaving his. "I don't think I can stand still anymore. And yeh I was pissy and childish the other day because my dad got under my skin about the whole moving in thing… But these past few days, it just has got me thinking. Because I love you, so much."

This time when he reached out to grab your hand, you actually leaned into it yourself. Not because you were giving in, but because this hurt. This hurt so fucking much that you needed something to ground you, or else god knows. Because the way he was speaking, it sounded so finite.

"I love you too."

"I do know, which is…is why this is so hard." At the very least, Tom had conceded that.

The conversation ceased to silence yet again. The room felt so cold; even Tom/Harry's hoodie was doing nothing to keep you from the endless empty cold that seemed to be coming from within.

"When I re-registered my health card last month, and I made you my emergency contact on it. I-I made you my next of kin on everything actually. I didn't think about it twice. And-and this-"You pulled your phone out of your back pocket, immediately pulling up the app onto the open page. "This is my Pinterest board for our baby's nursery theme. I know-" You paused, to quickly wipe your cheeks clear of the tear tracks that may or may not have been there. "I know it's probably a long way away, but I just love the Scandinavian theme." You laughed at yourself, suddenly embarrassed at your blabbering and quickly pulled up a different app. "And this… this was from the other week when I was helping Y/bf/n start her vows." Hands trembling as you turned the phone around for Tom to see again. "She was finding it really tricky so she said, what would you say to Tom on your wedding, so-so I made this list." You only dared to look at him when you were sure he'd be reading through that note.

It was bizarre because he looked… well, he looked happy. Here you were feeling traumatised, showing things that you'd barely even deeped how committed they were - and he was pleased? Feeling the fire burn once again inside of your chest, you quickly swiped the phone away and back into your pocket. Only then did he look up, eyes widening - presumably at quite how psychotic you looked.

"So don't you dare say that I don't want a future with you."

You said it with such force, there was a pause. Tom letting those words sink deep into his brain. The way his expression flickered minutely gave you hope. You thought he got it. You thought he really understood now.

"But why don't you want to move in then?"

There it was again. He knew why. But he didn't get it. And, probably, he never would.

You were about to crash completely. So you ran. As fast as your legs could carry you, not even aware of your chair crashing to the floor in your wake. You ran out of that house and away from him. Away from who you had thought was the love of your life.

?give tom a final chance w one last part?

feedback is always v v appreciated <3

tom taglist : @lovehollandy12 @hollandlover19 @thefernandasantana @hunnybunimdun @hallecarey1@cedricdiggorysimpp @msmimimerton @hollandfanficlove @pandaxnienke @crossyourpeter @thegirlwiththeimpala @tom-softie @sunwardsss @spiitfiiires @radcloudenthusiast @ladykxxx08

people i think might be interestd in this (sorry if not just let me know and i'll remove the tag!!!): @obiwanownsmyass @wildxwidow @parkersvogue @coffeewithoutcaffeine @tomhollandlol @thefallenbibliophilequote @clumsymandu @hiraethenthusiast @mannien @abrielleholland @evermorehabit @niallberry @greatpizzascissorstaco @runawayolives @annathesillyfriend @letsgotothemoonlight @lovelybarnes

[cdelphiki]

Bruce wasn’t sure what he was thinking.

Well, that was an absolute lie. He knew exactly what he was thinking. He just wasn’t sure how he was going to explain to Alfred and Jason what he’d been thinking, because he certainly couldn’t tell them the truth.

He’d been considering getting Jason a dog, but hadn’t anticipated doing it so soon. How did he tell the twelve-year-old he’d recently taken in that he saw a starving, skittish puppy out on the street and thought of him?

Jason was such a skittish child, and tended to take everything Bruce said or did the entirely wrong way. Sometimes, Bruce wondered if Jason were doing it on purpose.

But other times… other times he was starkly reminded of how truly awful Jason’s life had been.

Like when Jason had dropped a glass, three days prior, and immediately cut himself on the shards, trying to clean it up in his bare feet, with only his hands.

“I’m sorry,” Jason had been blubbering, tears streaming down his face, when Bruce had to physically pick him up and set him on the kitchen counter, just to get him to stop.

He’d gone so tense and rigid, Bruce just wanted a list of every person who had ever hurt Jason, who had ever caused him to think, even for a second, Bruce would beat him over a cheap four dollar glass.

Or over anything, ever.

But Bruce already knew the name of the person who had caused his reaction, and since Willis Todd was already dead, all Bruce could do was pull out the first aid kit and silently started picking the tiny pieces of glass out of his feet with the tweezers.

“Hey there,” Batman said, his voice soft and completely void of his normal gavel. The small, grey puppy was backed up into the corner of the dead end alley, his tail between his legs as he shook violently.

Batman knelt down, a few feet away from him, as far back as he could be without giving the puppy an escape route. He knew that was adding to his distress, but Bruce didn’t want to risk him getting away.

The poor thing was absolutely starved. Bruce could see his ribs, jutting out along his side, marred with scrapes and scratches and welts. The poor little thing had had it rough, and he couldn’t have been more than twelve-weeks-old.

“It’s okay,” he soothed, making himself as small as he could, trying to get down at the dogs level, “I’m not going to hurt you.”

When the puppy whimpered, instead of relax, Bruce considered just picking him up, just like he’d done with Jason. Sometimes, the only option was to force the contact and prove it would cause no harm.

But the puppy wasn’t actively hurting himself, so Bruce stayed still and quiet, as he reached into his belt for a piece of his snack jerky.

“Here,” he said, tearing off a small piece he was confident wouldn’t choke the dog and holding it out, “Come here, I know you’re hungry.”

That was another method he used with Jason quite frequently. Being patient and waiting for him to come to Bruce. It didn’t always work. Jason had yet to come to Bruce about his nightmares. Or to ask for help with his schoolwork, or training, whenever he got stuck and worked himself into frustrated tears. But Bruce could be patient as long as Jason needed.

One day, he knew, Jason would trust Bruce to never hurt him. But in the meantime, he’d keep offering, and waiting.

Just like he did with the puppy, holding out the jerky so he could smell it, and then placing it on the ground, half way between them.

Jerkily, the puppy skittered forward, trying to sniff the treat better, between his quick movements back into his corner. After doing that a few times, each time staying near the treat a little longer, he finally snapped it up and jumped back into his spot.

“See, it’s good, isn’t it?” Batman said, tearing off two more little pieces. He set one right where the first had been, and the other a few inches closer to himself, in hopes of slowly luring the dog to him.

It worked.

Slowly, but surely, the dog came closer and closer, each time lingering just a little longer near Batman, before finally Batman held out the final piece of jerky, and didn’t set it down.

Warily, the puppy inched closer to him, sniffing at the air and eyeing Bruce, like he thought it was a trap, but wanted the food more than he wanted to not be hurt.

Bruce felt a little bad, because it was a trap, in a way. But not a bad one.

When the puppy put his nose right up near Batman’s hand, he slowly brought his second hand up to place on the puppy’s head, and gently started scratching it as the puppy ate the last piece of jerky.

“That’s a good boy,” Bruce said, continuing with his scratches, getting behind the ears in a way that made the dog tilt his head, “See, I’m not going to hurt you.”

Swiftly, before the dog could bolt, Bruce scooped his now empty hand right up under the puppy, and lifted him into the air.

The dog yelped, and struggled for a second, but stilled when Bruce pulled him close and kept scratching at his head. “That’s a good boy,” he murmured again, as he stood to his feet, “No reason to be afraid.”

He trembled the entire time, but Bruce kept with his rhythmic pets, careful to avoid any spot that looked tender, and tried his best to reassure the little guy that he was perfectly safe.

Perfectly safe and about to meet the little boy Bruce knew would love him unconditionally.

Jason loved dogs, Bruce had found out, two weeks prior when they were out for a walk in one of the parks in Gotham. They passed a woman playing fetch with a golden retriever, and Jason’s face had absolutely lit up at the sight. Bruce wanted to encourage him to ask if he could pet the dog, but Jason had seemed perfectly content to watch.

“I had a yellow lab when I was a kid,” he’d said, a bright smile on his face and his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah?” Bruce prompted.

Jason nodded enthusiastically and said, “Yeah. Well, he was a mix, but his name was Sparky.”

“Sparky,” Bruce had repeated, “That’s a good name for a yellow dog.”

“Yeah. But he bit Dad one day, so Dad ditched him in a park.”

The nonchalance with which Jason had said that was probably what broke Bruce’s heart the most. Jason just… said it. Without emotion. With a little shrug. To him, that was just how it was. Something that couldn’t be changed, and therefore shouldn’t be dwelled upon.

Bruce was glad Jason could be mature about things, but still. It killed him that his twelve-year-old had learned to be mature about it, long before the age of twelve.

He knew the puppy in his hands wouldn’t replace Sparky, or anything close to it. But maybe it would give Jason a little more feeling of stability.

Jason seemed to think his welcome in the manor was sitting on a razor thin edge. One little misstep, and Bruce would kick him out on his rear, send him back to the street to fend for himself and fight for his keep. No matter how many times Bruce said it, Jason just could not trust his ‘I will never kick you out” statement.

Apparently Jason’s own father had ‘kicked him out’ when he was a mere eight years old. It might have just been for one night, a night Jason spent sleeping on the fire escape, but one night was enough to destroy all trust in a little boy.

Sure, Bruce had only had him for three months, but that didn’t mean Bruce was willing to part with the sweet little boy he’d come to adore.

Bruce would never, never even think about kicking Jason out. Or moving him to another home. Or anything of the sort.

Jason was his, and that was that. It didn’t matter what Jason did, that would never change.

Maybe having a puppy. Maybe giving Jason a puppy would show him how permanent he was. How could Bruce kick him out, if he had a puppy to take care of? Jason seemed quick to believe in Bruce’s kindness to others, just not to himself. Hopefully he’d trust Bruce would never kick the puppy out, and therefore couldn’t kick Jason out, because he was Jason’s puppy.

And one day, when the puppy grew larger, as large as his little paws, proportionally massive compared to the rest of him, suggested he’d be, maybe he could also offer Jason a little security, too. Bruce had no doubt the puppy would bite anyone who dared touch Jason, just as Sparky had done, all those years ago.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated, as he approached the Batmobile, the quaking puppy whimpering in his arms, “We’re going home. We’ll get you cleaned up and fed, does that sound good?”

Batman opened the trunk to the car, first, and with one hand dumped out one of the crates he used to organized all his supplies. He couldn’t think of a better way to transport the puppy, without someone else there to just hold him. The last thing he wanted was for the dog to crawl around the car and cause trouble while he was driving. After he lined the crate with one of the blankets he kept on hand, just in case, he gentled settled the puppy inside.

He seemed to calm, slightly, once he was set down, and when Bruce folded on edge of the blanket over his body, so only his head was exposed, he snuggled down a little more and looked far more relaxed than Bruce had seen yet. Bruce scratched the top of his head as he carried the crate up to the front, and settled him down into the footwell of the passenger side.

It must have been cozy in the box, because in the twenty minute drive back to the Manor, the puppy fell asleep, the sweet sound of little puppy snores filling up the car.

Bruce might have wanted a dog for a long time, as well, he had to admit. Just could never justify getting one, with how little time he spent at home, and how inconsistent his schedule was. Alfred, also, always balked at the idea of pets in the house, so Bruce had never explored it much.

Even now, he was a tad worried about how to care for the dog, how to ensure the puppy received the care he needed. He hadn’t intended on getting Jason a dog so quickly, so suddenly.

He’d been doing the research, reading articles and studies about dogs and their effects on child abuse victims. Trying to decide what kind of dog he’d get, how they’d get one, and how they’d share the responsibilities. Jason, Bruce thought, would be the dog’s primary owner. The one responsible for walking him and feeding him and playing with him the most. But Bruce or Alfred would have to do a lot of the heavy lifting.

Jason was just a child, after all, and he had school. He hadn’t started school yet, they were still homeschooling him in order to catch him up to where he should be, but one day he would have school. And Bruce would likely have to take the dog out multiple times. Alfred did not even know Bruce was considering a dog, so it was unlikely he’d be very thrilled or eager to do any of the work.

Alfred had been quite clear, multiple times when Dick was a boy, that there would be no filthy animals in his house…

Then, of course, there was the issue of caring for the dog’s health, which would likely fall upon Bruce’s shoulders, not Jason.

As Bruce pulled into the Batcave, he tried to set all his planning aside, and just focus on the moment. He had quite a bit he needed to do with the puppy, to ensure he could be brought up into the house.

First and foremost, removing the fleas from his fur and getting him nice and clean.

Did they even have flea treatments in the cave? They definitely had some sprays for them, but Bruce was hesitant to spray down the puppy with them. It might require a quick trip to the store, to purchase pet specific supplies.

Jason was in the cave. That was the first thing Bruce noticed, when he pulled the car to the parking spot. Because the batcomputer was on, and the computer chair spun around to reveal the tiny twelve-year-old curled up in it, looking like he’d just been startled awake.

Bruce resisted the urge to sigh as he got out of the car. Jason was supposed to be in bed. His bedtime was midnight, and he knew it. Especially with Alfred not feeling well, and taking the night off, Jason was really pushing his luck spending the night in the cave, by himself, past his bedtime. Bruce had threatened punishment if he defied the rule, and thus far just the threat of punishment had been enough to deter him from misbehavior.

All Bruce would do was ban him from TV for the next day, and he’d told Jason as much, but sometimes just the thought of being punished made Jason a little antsy and nervous. Even though the punishment itself would hardly even faze Jason, since the boy rarely watched TV anyway.

But Jason being awake could be beneficial, Bruce thought idly, as Jason slowly stood up and smiled a touch nervously at him. He kind of wanted to surprise Jason in the morning, waking him up with the puppy, but Jason could help him a lot with settling the dog.

“Hi, Bruce,” Jason said, when Bruce shut his door and looked over at him, where he was standing about ten yards away. He put his arms behind his back, and smiled a little tighter when Bruce pulled down his cowl shot him a ‘you know what you did’ look.

“Aren’t you up a little late?” he asked. It was 3am.

“I was reading case files,” Jason said, as if that were a valid excuse, “I wanted to finish all the ones related to the Riddler tonight.”

“Hrn,” Bruce grunted, “And did you?”

Even if it was frustrating, Bruce couldn’t help but be proud, every time Jason defied him. He knew testing the limits and pushing the boundaries was going to happen eventually, and probably cause Bruce to gray prematurely, but he was so damned relieved it was happening. That finally Jason was starting to test to see just how far the rules went, and if the consequences were what Bruce said they were.

All he wanted was for Jason to feel safe. He’d put up with the frustration if that was what it took.

“I’m almost done,” Jason said, a little sheepishly. Bruce’s guess was he fell asleep not longer after midnight, and hadn’t actually got anything further accomplished.

Bruce hummed as he started to round the car. Jason took half a step backward, before he seemed to catch himself, and started warring on his lip instead. When Bruce stopped at the passenger door, however, and didn’t keep walking toward Jason, he stopped.

“Come here,” Bruce said, as he opened the door, “I need your help with something.”

“What?” Jason asked, a touch curiously, as Bruce gently picked up the crate.

Despite his best effort, the puppy startled awake at the inevitable jostling. The dog stood, and tried to shake the blanket off of him, so Bruce got a good grip on the crate with one arm so he could use the other to move the blanket.

Jason skipped over, then, but froze when Bruce held the crate low enough for him to look inside.

“Is that?” he whispered, a touch of awe in his voice. Carefully, he walked the last few yards to Bruce, and lifted a hand to set on the dog. Just before he touched him, however, he looked up at Bruce and asked, “He’s not, like, radioactive or anything, is he?”

“No,” Bruce said, a smile tugging on his lips. Although radioactive dogs wasn’t something entirely out of the possibility. Not in Gotham.

He hoped he never came across radioactive dogs…

The puppy shrank back at Jason’s hand, and gave him the most pitiful little whimper Bruce had heard yet.

“Just scared and hungry,” Bruce murmured.

“Oh.” Jason slowly finished his approach, holding two fingers out right in front of the puppy’s nose, letting him sniff for a long few seconds, before he started scratching the top of his head. “Why are you scared, little guy?” he whispered, moving so he was scratching behind the dog’s ears.

The dog highly appreciated that, because he tilted his head, pressing himself into Jason’s fingers more as he shut his eyes.

Bruce couldn’t help his smile. He always knew Jason was a sweet kid, but seeing it in action might be one of Bruce’s new favorite things.

Jason looked up, and his cheeks reddened a little when he did. “Where, uh,” he stammered, “where’d you find him?”

“That dead-end alley on Broad. I didn’t see any other puppies or a mother anywhere nearby, and based on his appearance I’m fairly confident he’s a stray.”

“Aw, poor little guy,” Jason murmured, looking back down at the puppy.

The dog backed away from Jason, the best he could inside the crate, but pushed his head forward for Jason to scratch a second later.

Bruce could already tell, they were going to be best friends.

“Can you watch him while I run out and grab some supplies?” Bruce asked, once Jason had pet the dog for a minute or so, and looked completely in love already, “We need to give him a flea bath before we bring him upstairs, or Alfred will kill me.”

Jason looked up sharply, his eyes a little wide as he asked, “What am I supposed to do?”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Bruce said quickly, “just keep him company and let him know he’s safe. We can put you in the locker room with the door closed, so he can’t run off.”

“Oh,” Jason said, nodding, “yeah, okay.”

“Okay,” Bruce repeated, “Here, let’s get you settled.”

He carried the crate into the locker room, and set it down on the ground, where Jason sat down right next to it. Carefully, Bruce picked the puppy up and set him down, semi close to Jason, in hopes of not scaring him too bad.

It didn’t work, because immediately the puppy backed up, his little tail between his legs and his whole head lowered, his piercing gray eyes darting between Bruce and Jason. When Bruce moved, with the intention of standing up, the puppy bolted, finding a bench up against the wall to cower under while letting out his pitiful little whimper.

“Aww,” Jason said, softly as he crawled a little closer, then laid on his stomach, “don’t be like that. We ain’t gonna hurt ya.”

“I’ll grab him something to eat, first,” Bruce murmured, as he stood and walked toward the door, away from the terrified little puppy, “you might get him to come out for some food.”

Jason merely nodded, as he rested his chin on his hands and kept his attention on the puppy.

“Are you hungry, buddy,” Jason said, softly, as Bruce was leaving the room, “I bet you’re starving. The food here is way better than street food, trust me.”

Bruce tried his best to ignore the twinge in his chest, as he went upstairs.

In the kitchen, Bruce looked through the fridge in hopes of finding something for the dog. If push came to shove, he could scramble an egg. He knew he was capable of that, but he’d rather not mess up a pan and hear it from Alfred in the morning about how he wasn’t ‘allowed’ to use his own damn kitchen.

Thankfully, though, he found what remained of a rotisserie chicken Alfred had made for dinner, two nights before. The left overs hadn’t been turned into anything else, yet, so it was basically plain chicken. Absolutely perfect for a dog.

Bruce made short work of peeling off the skin and cutting up about half a cup of it, into small, puppy sized bites. He really wasn’t sure if it was too much or not enough for the little dog. He’d find a good vet to explain all that to them, within the next few days.

Or he’d spend the morning researching.

Likely both.

He brought the plastic bowl of chicken he prepared, along with another bowl and a bottle of water, down to the cave where he found Jason in basically the same position, the puppy still pressed up into the corner, deep under the bench.

“Here, you can give it to him,” Bruce said, only walking in far enough he could hand the bowls and water to Jason, “I’ll be back in half an hour, 45 minutes tops. I’m just running to the Walmart up the street.”

“Okay,” Jason said. He sat up and took the bowls and water, and sat them on the bench above the puppy, before he opened the water and poured a little into the bowl.

“Call me if you need anything,” he added, pulling a still unused burner phone from his belt and handing it over. He needed to get Jason a real phone, eventually. But for the moment, a burner phone worked fine. “You have my number memorized, correct?”

Jason rolled his eyes dramatically and rattled off Bruce’s number.

Bruce might have made Jason repeat it dozens of times, until he didn’t have to think about it and could simply recite it without hesitation. And Jason was still not over how ‘cruel’ the method of memorization was.

“Okay, good,” he said, smiling a touch, “I’ll be right back.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Jason mumbled, as he turned back toward the cowering puppy and picked up the bowl of water, “here, buddy. Are you thirsty?”

Content, Bruce turned to leave, but paused when Jason called out a little urgently.

“Wait,” he said, “What’s his name?”

“He doesn’t have one yet. Why don’t you start thinking about that.” Bruce had some ideas of what he’d name the puppy, but if it was going to be Jason’s dog, Jason should get to name him.

It ended up taking Bruce fifty minutes to get back home. Between having to shower and change, then actually find the pet section at the maze that was Walmart, it took way longer than he wanted. Once he was in the pet section, he got a little lost trying to round up all the things he thought they’d need to survive the night.

A crate was a good idea. A real one, meant for dogs. A bag of food, too, but then he got distracted by all the options. He had no idea there was so many kinds of dog foods, all claiming to do something different. He ended up with a bag of the stuff meant for large breed puppies, and a box of canned wet food, as well. Just to have on hand. Then he bought a jar of treats, a couple toys, the flea shampoo and some other grooming supplies, and a collar and leash.

It was way too much stuff, he felt, but not nearly enough at the same time.

Once Alfred was awake, he’d probably have a much better idea of what they needed.

In the meantime, it was good enough.

Bruce felt bad, leaving Jason alone for as long as he did, but then again Jason had spent hours in the cave already, even though he wasn’t supposed to, so it wasn’t like it’d hurt him. Especially not when he spent the whole time watching over the puppy.

When he finally made it back down to the cave, with the grooming supplies and treats, it’d been nearly an hour. Bruce would be a giant liar if he said he wasn’t anxious about having left Jason alone so long.

But when he got to the locker room door and opened it slowly, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Jason jumped, of course, when the door opened. Bruce wished the boy didn’t have such strong reflexes, sometimes, because based on how he was curled up against the wall, the blanket wrapped around himself, he had been fast asleep. Bruce would have loved to snap a picture, if only to show Alfred, because not only had Jason been asleep, but the little puppy was curled up in Jason’s arms, sleeping against his chest.

Now that Bruce had entered the room, however, the dog’s ears lowered and he sank further into Jason’s hold.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jason whispered through a yawn, as he sat up, his hands holding the dog close, “It’s just Bruce. We like Bruce.”

Bruce couldn’t hide his smile as he shut the door behind him and crossed the room. “Everything okay?” he asked, as he knelt down and slowly ran his hand down the dog’s head, trying to reassure him a little.

“Yeah,” Jason said, his shoulders dropping a little, “You were right, he came right to me when I offered the food.”

“That’s good,” Bruce said, looking over at the half empty bowl of chicken, sitting up on the bench, “He only wanted half of it?”

Jason grimaced, a touch, and asked, “Remember when I first got here, I got sick cause I ate too much?”

With a nod, Bruce said, “Yes.” He remembered that clearly.

It had absolutely broke his heart to know three pancakes, a few pieces of bacon, and a scrambled egg had been enough to make Jason sick. Had been too much food.

They had to slow him down and put him on a rigid meal plan for the first couple weeks, just to get his tolerance back up. Three months later and he still was underweight, but at least he could eat a full meal and not get sick.

“I didn’t want the same thing to happen to him,” Jason said, turning his attention back down to the puppy, who looked up at him with big eyes, “so I was feeding him one piece at a time, and he started acting pretty full.” When Jason ran his hand down the dog’s back, he tried to stand up, and Bruce could see his tail twitch from under the blanket still wrapped around him. When he couldn’t stand up, he started licking at Jason’s arm, making Jason grin for a second.

“You’re a good kid,” Bruce said, setting a hand in Jason’s hair and ruffling it, a touch. A compassionate kid. Just when Bruce thought he couldn’t like Jason any more.

Jason hid his smile in the puppy’s fur.

“Come on,” Bruce said, standing back up and motioning with his head toward the bathroom, “Let’s get him a bath.”

Bruce led Jason to the large sink they mostly used for soaking things or washing things like their grapples, when necessary. But it was the perfect bathtub for a puppy, so Bruce scrubbed it down quickly, then plugged it up and filled it with a couple inches of warm water.

“Okay, set him down,” Bruce said, as he went through the various bottles of soap he’d purchased.

The puppy whined when his paws touched the water, and tried his best to stay in Jason’s arms.

“It’s okay,” Jason soothed, running his hands down the dog’s back, when he tried to climb out of the sink, “you’ll feel way better clean.”

Despite Jason’s reassurances, the puppy continued to whimper and try to escape the bath, so Bruce worked as quickly and as gently as he could, first washing him off with the regular shampoo, then with the flea shampoo, working it into his short, slightly matted fur carefully, sure to avoid his scrapes and cuts. All the while Jason kept murmuring at him and offering gentle scratches to his head, between his eyes, and his snout. The puppy’s ears remained down, and his tail tucked between his legs, but he did quit whimpering and trying to escape Bruce’s hands.

“Have you thought of a name?” Bruce asked, while he was gently pouring clean water over the puppy’s back, to rinse away the rest of the flea shampoo.

Jason merely shrugged, not even taking his eyes off the puppy, who was looking back at him pitifully.

“That’s okay,” Bruce said, “Take your time.” Bruce wouldn’t be able to name a dog on the spot, either.

Once Bruce was content the puppy was as clean as could be, he picked him up and placed him on a towel Jason spread out on the counter. Jason wrapped the towel around him, and rubbed him down, drying him off and petting him at the same time.

The puppy barked, the first not whimper sound Bruce had heard from him, when Jason flipped the towel over his face.

“What?” Jason asked, when he moved the towel, a big grin on his face, “You don’t like being blinded? How unreasonable.”

In response, the puppy barked again, and jumped up on Jason, putting his front paws on Jason’s shoulders while he started licking at Jason’s face, his tail wagging slightly behind him.

Leave it to Jason to win the puppy’s adoration in less than two hours. He’d basically done the same thing to both him and Alfred, after all.

Jason laughed, loud and clear, and tried to catch the puppy’s face with his hands and get him to stop licking at his face. “Stop it,” he said, through his laughter, “Buddy come on, that’s so gross.”

“All right, how about we take him outside first,” Bruce said, after he’d drained the sink and put away the supplies. Maybe if they took him outside first, Alfred’s introduction to the puppy wouldn't be cleaning up an accident on one of the carpets.

Alfred… Alfred would not appreciate that at all. And would likely begin demanding Bruce find a better home for him.

They’d also have to figure out where to keep him. Jason needed sleep, Bruce knew. And the puppy likely did as well. He just wasn’t sure where to do that. It was probably a terrible idea to trust the puppy in any room before they’ve had a chance to go through and make sure it was ‘puppy proof.’ And Bruce felt like all of them going to sleep was trusting the puppy alone, even if he was with one of them. Likely Jason.

Perhaps they should set up his crate, and get him acquainted to it. Establish it as a safe place that was all his.

“Hey, Bruce?” Jason asked, as they were taking the elevator up to the manor.

Bruce didn’t like taking the elevator, when not absolutely necessary. It was a good workout to climb the stairs, but Jason insisted on carrying the puppy, since he still cowered away from Bruce, and Bruce did not trust him on the stone stairs quite yet. There was no telling what would happen if they set the dog down free. Bruce had no faith he’d actually follow them, and if he did, that he’d be able to climb the stairs without falling.

And with Jason carrying the dog, he did not trust Jason on the stairs, either. Not that Bruce couldn’t easily catch him or the dog if the dog started squirming and Jason lost his balance or grip, but taking the elevator took away all the anxiety, so that was what they did.

“Yeah?” Bruce asked, when simply looking down at Jason hadn’t prompted him to continue.

Jason shifted from one foot to the other, his attention down on the puppy. He had a solid grip on the dog, with one arm under him and the other arm on top, holding him still. Not that he needed to hold the puppy still, since he had snuggled down into Jason’s arms and seemed content, just looking around at the elevator around them.

“Are, uh,” he finally started, but he paused to clear his throat, and asked a little more confidently, “Are we keeping him? Or just watching him until the shelters open?”

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened to the landing between the actual entrance to the house.

“Do you want to keep him?”

If Jason didn’t want to keep him, Bruce could certainly find him a loving home somewhere else, but he’d be a little shocked if, after how quickly Jason clearly has fallen for the puppy, he didn’t want him.

But Jason looked up at him, and Bruce could tell that Jason didn’t dare ask.

Another one of Jason’s little habits. Hide away the things he truly loved, play them down as ‘no big deal,’ all out of fear Bruce or Alfred would take them away from him. Why? Bruce didn’t know. And he was afraid to find out from where such a fear came.

All he and Alfred wanted was to give Jason the world. He’d spent far too much of his life without even the basic necessities. For once he deserved the things he wanted.

Bruce took a step to the side and wrapped his arm around Jason’s shoulders, trying to ignore how the puppy’s ears lowered and he tried to bury himself further into Jason’s hold. “If you want to keep him,” he said, pulling Jason to his side for a second, “We’ll keep him.”

“Really?” Jason asked, shifting in Bruce’s hold just a touch, but not pulling away, “You’re sure?”

“I wouldn’t have brought him home, if I wasn’t sure,” Bruce said, squeezing Jason a little tighter, “I’m ready to keep him forever.”

“Oh,” Jason whispered, as he looked back down at his puppy. When he didn’t say anything further, Bruce led him out of the elevator and into the manor.

Getting a collar on the puppy was quite the task. Every time Bruce tried to put it on him, he pulled away and tried to run. In the end, Bruce had to hold him still while Jason put it on him, whispering his reassurances the entire time. Just based on how the puppy kept flinching away, cowering from Bruce’s hands, he would have said fuck it, and let the dog be without a collar.

But he was terrified if they let the dog outside without a leash, he’d bolt and they’d never see him again. The coyotes or foxes or something would kill him. They did not have a fence, except for around Alfred’s garden, and Bruce knew letting the dog run free within the garden would not win any points with Alfred.

Finally, though, they got the collar secure and hooked the leash to it.

“If we’re keeping him, we really ought to have a harness for him instead,” Jason said, as he tried to lead the puppy out the door. He kept pulling on the leash, trying to run off, but would stop when the leash went taught and started pulling on his neck.

“I see what you mean,” Bruce said. It probably would be much safer and more comfortable for the puppy, in a harness rather than a collar. He hadn’t even considered that, when shopping. “How about I stay up here, so he stops trying to get away from me. You can take him out.”

Jason hesitated, but leaned over and ran a hand down the puppy’s back. The little dog looked up at him, then back at Bruce, and started to follow when Jason took a step down the patio stairs, toward the yard.

When Jason paused again, and looked back at Bruce, he said, “I’ll be right here watching, okay?” Being outside, alone, was not something Jason enjoyed much, completely understandably. Doing it while it was dark out hadn’t come up, yet, but Bruce could understand him being a little nervous about it. Even if the sky was starting to light up, with the twilight of the coming sunrise in an hour or so, Bruce wouldn’t go anywhere. He’d stay right on the patio, and wait for Jason and the puppy to get back.

“Okay,” Jason said, nodding a little, as he turned to lead the puppy out into the yard to do his business.

It took some coaxing, and about fifteen minutes, but finally the puppy relieved himself, and Jason rewarded him with one of the treats he’d tucked into his pocket, from the jar Bruce purchased. They’d both taken a few, just to start in on the training.

He had a lot of research to do come morning, on training.

Once Jason finished praising him and petting him, he started to lead him back up to the patio. It wasn’t until they reached the stairs did the puppy notice him, and start to pull on the leash to get away.

It killed Bruce, just a little, to think what other large men had done to the poor dog to make him so afraid. He’d warmed right up to Jason, but even with Bruce being gentle and kind and feeding him, he was still wary.

Just like Jason could be, at times.

“It’s just Bruce, buddy,” Jason said, kneeling down and running a hand down the puppy’s back, “I know he’s big but you don’t gotta be scared of him.”

“That’s right,” Bruce said, trying not to smile warmly and embarrass Jason. He took a few steps to the top of the stairs and knelt down, holding out a treat for the puppy. “Come here, bud.”

The puppy openly warred with himself, taking half steps forward and back, as he sniffed at the air in the direction of the treat. Bruce stayed still, and waited, until finally the puppy gave in and hopped up the four stairs, so he could sniff the treat more directly and snatch it from Bruce’s fingers.

“That’s a good boy,” Bruce said, pulling another treat out and holding it out with one hand, so he could scratch behind his ears with the other.

“See,” Jason said, smiling brightly, “Bruce is nice.”

Once inside, Bruce reluctantly let Jason take the leash off, and watched with a sigh as the puppy immediately found a bench to hide under in the mud room.

It was going to be a long process.

“Why don’t you work on getting him to the kitchen,” Bruce said, as he hung the leash up on the coat rack, “I’ll go prepare him another bowl of water.”

Jason nodded, and sat down on the floor, a good ten feet away from the puppy, so Bruce let him be and left, shutting the door behind him.

In the kitchen, he did as promised and filled a shallow bowl with water, and set it on the counter for when it was needed. Then he pulled out the crate he’d bought, one that was likely going to be too small once the puppy grew. It was meant for medium sized dogs, and Bruce had a feeling the dog would be squarely in the large category. It would work for the moment, though, so he opened it and started putting it together. They could figure out a good spot for it, later. When it was time for Jason to get some sleep.

He wasn’t quite sure what the dog’s breed was. Looking at his eyes, he looked a little like a pitt bull. His nose had some pitt qualities, as well, but the rest of his body looked more like a lab to Bruce. But he was gray, a solid gray, with light gray eyes.

Honestly, Bruce didn’t know a ton about dog breeds, so that was likely another thing he’d be researching, once Jason and the puppy finally went to bed.

Alfred was going to kill him, letting Jason basically stay up all night with only a couple short naps in strange spots.

Jason finally came into the kitchen a good fifteen minutes later, the little puppy trotting along, right by Jason’s side.

He didn’t startle, much, when he saw Bruce, but instead pushed to be right between Jason’s feet, and started looking around the kitchen.

“Impressive, son. Looks like he trusts you already,” Bruce said, as he continued opening all the toys he’d purchased. There were only a few, but each of them had zip ties and cardboard to remove before they could be given to the puppy.

With a bright smile, Jason took the bowl of water and knelt down, offering the dish to the puppy who eagerly started lapping it up, his little tail wagging happily as he did.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna name him?” Jason asked, sitting next to the bowl and watching as his puppy continued drinking, “He is your dog.”

Bruce paused from where he was freeing a little hotdog toy from its packaging and looked over at Jason. But Jason wasn’t looking at him, he was still staring at the dog, almost like he was pointedly not looking at Bruce.

“No, Jason,” he said slowly, frowning at himself that he obviously hadn’t been clear enough, “He’s your puppy. I brought him home for you.”

Jason didn’t say anything, just pulled his knees up to his chest, so Bruce ventured, “Unless you don’t want a dog?”

“No,” Jason said quickly, shaking his head, “I want him.”

“Okay.”

With the hotdog freed, Bruce crossed the room and took a seat next to Jason, who didn’t look over at him still. The puppy did, however, and took a few steps to the side, but warily hopped back over to his bowl after a second, pausing every few sips of water to look at Bruce.

Jason absently placed a hand on the puppy’s head, then withdrew it, and hugged his knees a little tighter.

“Are you okay, lad?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah,” Jason said, dully, nodding a little as he did. Clearly not okay.

Jason and his moods were so unpredictable. The strangest things set him off, sometimes, and Bruce often felt like he were navigating the woods in the dark, without a flashlight, trying to talk to Jason when his moods hit.

Sometimes placing a hand on his back was welcomed, but other times, it was very not. And only set Jason off further.

So Bruce kept his hands to himself, and looked down at the stupid little hotdog in his hands.

He held it out to Jason, tapping him gently on legs with it to get his attention. It was a pretty dumb looking toy, in all honestly. A stuffed hotdog with a little smiling face on the front of the weiner. He’d known the second he saw it that Jason would get a kick out of it, so he couldn’t not buy it.

As expected, Jason smiled when he looked at the hotdog, and shifted into sitting crisscross as he took it from Bruce. “That is so cute,” he said, inspecting the whole thing, before turning his attention to the puppy, “Have you ever had a hotdog?”

The dog, of course, didn’t answer, but did look up when Jason squeezed the stuffed toy and found the squeaker inside. His little tail started wagging slowly when Jason squeaked it a few more times, then held it out for the puppy.

Clearly the dog had no idea what to do with a toy, at first. Because when Jason offered it to him, he trotted up closer and started sniffing at it rather intently.

“Bite it,” Jason said, pushing the toy at him a little more, “It’s yours buddy, you can play with it.”

It took another minute of experimenting, but the dog eventually took it from Jason, biting at it several times until he had a good grip on it. He jumped backward, and leaped around a couple times with it, as he kept working on his grip.

Finally, he seemed to be satisfied with how he was holding it, because he started shaking it aggressively, his tail wagging a mile a minute while he growled, a cute, very non-threatening little growl.

“You got it,” Jason said, grinning wide, “Good boy.”

Bruce draped one arm across Jason’s shoulders, hoping that with his upturned mood, he wouldn’t be too jumpy at the action.

He wasn’t, but he did look up at Bruce before relaxing into the arm.

“I’m glad you two are getting along already,” Bruce said, running his hand up and down Jason’s arm for a second before letting go, content to just sit there with Jason for a bit, watching the puppy fight with his new toy hotdog.

If the dog was going to be as big as Bruce imagined, it was unlikely the hotdog would survive very long.

Not if he kept playing with his toys that violently.

They lapsed into silence for a few minutes, just watching the dog as he trotted around the kitchen, flinging his hotdog around and going to ‘catch’ it, just so he could shake it around again and send it flying.

Eventually, Jason shifted again, pulling away from Bruce’s arm, so he removed it with one pat to his back. He placed his hands on his own knees, while Jason started hugging his again.

Bruce didn’t bother telling Jason he was right there, ready to listen to whatever Jason had going on inside his head. If he did, Jason would roll his eyes and make some joke, or completely brush Bruce aside and try and forget about whatever it was.

So instead he waited.

The puppy bounced over to Jason after a few minutes, and set the hotdog down next to him. But when Jason reached out to pick it up, he changed his mind and quickly grabbed it, trying to pull it away before Jason could take it.

“Why this puppy?” Jason finally asked, while he taunted the dog by tugging at the toy. He acted like he was letting the puppy have it, then pulled it, pulling the entire dog with him.

The little growls he got in response were cute, though Bruce knew it wasn’t a behavior they’d be able to tolerate long. Growling at them, even while in play, probably wasn’t a good behavior to encourage in a dog.

Bruce shrugged and said, “He’s the puppy I found.” There hadn’t been anything special about him, he supposed.

Except that he’d found the dog in Crime Alley. And had been starkly reminded of Jason.

Which still was not something he was going to tell Jason.

Because Jason was not a dog, and Bruce did not think of Jason as a dog in the least bit.

Even if he had found Jason starving and alone in Crime Alley, too…

“But,” Jason said, when the puppy had ‘won’ the hotdog and carried it five feet away to keep playing with, “What if he turns out to be bad behaved and, like, pees on all the old rugs.”

Why was that even something Jason was worrying about? Of course the dog was going to pee on the rugs. He was pretty sure it was part and parcel to owning a dog. They’d be damned lucky if that was the worst thing the dog did.

“Then I guess we’ll buy some new rugs,” he said with a shrug.

“But,” Jason said, looking up at Bruce with slightly wide eyes, “what if he tears up all the sofas. And eats your shoes. And bites you. And, and—”

“Jay,” Bruce interrupted. wrapping his arm back around Jason’s shoulders. He saw the problem, now.

Willis had ditched Sparky at some park, all because he bit him. Likely protecting Jason, if Bruce’s suspicions were correct. Why would Jason believe Bruce would be any different?

Even though Bruce had been trying his hardest to be absolutely nothing like Willis Todd.

He’d rather die than be anything like that sorry excuse for a man. Jason deserved so much better than him. And while Bruce didn’t think he lived up to everything Jason deserved in a parent… he at least hoped he was better than Willis.

But Willis was Jason’s example of a father, so Bruce could not blame him for expecting Bruce to act like him.

How did one convince a little boy that unconditional love existed, when he had never experienced it before?

“He’s part of the family now,” Bruce eventually said, pulling Jason into his side when Jason didn’t shy away from his hold, “He might do things to make me upset sometimes, but that’s okay. I’ll still love him, and I’ll never hurt him or kick him out, because I’d never do that to my family. No matter what they did or how mad I got.”

Jason’s lip twitched, slightly, as he sank into Bruce’s hug. He took a moment, but finally sat up and asked, a smirk on his face, “What if I peed on the carpet?”

“Would it be on purpose?” Bruce asked, seriously. Because it did matter, even if Jason thought it was just a funny joke.

All Jason did was snicker, and say, “Yeah.”

“Well then,” he said, “You would clean it up and then we would have a very long, very serious conversation about what the hell you were thinking.” He jostled Jason a little, playfully, and offered him a smile when he looked up. “And then you would apologize to Alfred profusely”

“That’s it?” Jason asked, but he was outright grinning, so Bruce figured it was all landing the right way.

“That’s it,” Bruce confirmed, “Although Alfred might make you do a bunch of chores after.”

“Yeah, that’s fair.”

“I think we can forgive the puppy, though, if he does it on accident while being house trained.”

“Good,” Jason said. He pulled away from Bruce’s arm, again, so Bruce let go once more, “he’s just a baby.”

“That’s right. He doesn’t know any better.”

The puppy had laid down across the kitchen, his head resting on top of the toy hotdog while he just looked at them, his eyelids drooping more and more with each blink.

It was just about bedtime for all of them.

“I,” Jason started, before Bruce could open his mouth and voice that thought, “I was thinking ‘Gable.’ For his name.”

“Gable?” Bruce said, turning the name over in his head, “From Anne of Green Gables?” He knew that had become one of Jason’s favorite books, after he’d read it his second week in the manor.

“Yeah, because he’s gray, and Anne had gray eyes.”

“Ah.” It was a good name, he thought. “I like it. It suits him.”

Jason smiled, one of his sweet, shy smiles, and held a hand out to Gable. “Come here, Gable,” he said, “are you tired?”

“Yes, I think we should take him outside one more time, and then both of you need to get some sleep.”

Gable stood, at Jason’s continued prodding, and started to walk over to them, but then the kitchen door opened and Alfred walked in, carrying an empty breakfast tray, likely so he could begin preparing breakfast for them.

“Dear heavens,” he swore, dropping the tray to the ground as Gable ran past him, right toward Jason. But when the tray hit the ground in a loud crash, he jumped, and changed trajectory toward a small table up against the wall, that had a shelf under it and about eight inches of clearance between it and the ground. Gable squeezed himself in there, and turned around so he was looking out at all of them, but was as far under the shelf as he could be.

“Gable,” Jason said, scrambling to his feet to get across the room to where Gable was cowering, “it’s okay, shhh. It’s just Alfred.”

“Sorry, Alfred,” Bruce said, as he got to his feet and picked up the tray for Alfred, “I was going to warn you.” He did feel bad for startling Alfred so hard. He, too, would be a bit startled, he hated to admit, if he saw a dog he wasn’t expecting in the kitchen at 6am.

“What in heavens is that doing in this house,” Alfred asked, directing all his ire at Bruce.

Bruce shrank back, a little, but then looked over at Jason. Jason had laid out on his stomach, the same as earlier, and was completely ignoring them while he gently spoke to Gable, offering him a treat and promising him everything was perfectly okay.

“No one here’s going to hurt you,” he was whispering, “I promise.”

“We kind of adopted a dog last night,” Bruce said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Alfred opened his mouth, like he was about to dispel a whole pile of vitriol at that, and likely demand Bruce return the puppy immediately.

He had been quite clear, on a number of occasions, that there would be no animals in his house… Or, more specifically, no filthy animals in his house, causing him more work.

But they were interrupted by a little bark, followed by some laughter.

Looking over at Jason, Bruce found him still on his stomach, but the puppy now out from his hiding place. He had one of his paws in the air, and was batting at Jason’s hair as he jumped around, Jason with his face hiding in the crook of an arm, the other hand trying to catch Gable’s paw as he giggled. “Stop, stop, you’re pulling my hair.”

Alfred visibly softened, so Bruce whispered to him, quiet enough that Jason likely couldn’t hear them, even if he were paying attention, “I found him in an alley, starving and alone.”

With a sigh, Alfred ran a hand over his face, and finally murmured back, “I suppose this is the more… traditional stray you’ve brought back.”

Jason rolled on his back, and Gable bounced over to where he was, and started climbing up onto his chest to get a better angle to lick his face, only eliciting more giggles from Jason.

“They’ll be good for each other,” Bruce whispered.

Alfred sighed one last time, and turned toward the counters, where he dug out a pan. “I hope you know I will never hear the end of this from Master Dick. The number of times he begged for a puppy.”

“I know,” Bruce said, grimacing. Dick was going to throw a fit about it, because even Bruce had told him ‘no’ about a dog. But then he’d fall immediately in love with Gable, and likely get over it.

He’d understand, too. If he took the time to listen to Bruce’s explanation of why a puppy was good for an abused, anxious kid.

“Rule number one,” Alfred said, much louder for Jason to hear, “dogs are not allowed in the kitchen or dining room.”

“Aw, Alfred,” Jason started whining, picking Gable up so he could sit up with him, “But—“

“No buts, Master Jason,” Alfred asserted, “This manor is plenty big enough, it will not harm him to ban him from these two rooms. It is simply unsanitary to have a dog slobbering all over my kitchen while I’m cooking, therefore he is not allowed under any circumstances in these rooms, please train him accordingly.”

Jason frowned, for half a second, before absolutely lighting up. “Wait,” he said, hopping to his feet, Gable struggling in his arms to be let down, “So we’re keeping him? For real, for real?”

“Jay I told you—“ Bruce started, but Jason cut him off.

“Yeah, but we all know Alfred’s the real boss around here.”

“Hey,” Bruce protested, but there was no heat behind it.

It was true.

Jason set Gable down on the ground, and watched in amusement as he ran over to his hotdog and picked it up, then pushed his way back between Jason’s feet.

“Yes,” Alfred said, clearly trying, but failing, to keep the smile off his face, “If you can take care of him, you may keep him. He is your responsibility, not mine. I expect you do do the research necessary for training puppies up into well behaved dogs.” Half way through his spiel, he turned toward Bruce and raised an eyebrow at him, so Bruce nodded right along with Jason.

“All right,” Jason cheered, kneeling down to jostle Gable’s ears, while Gable licked at his face again.

“How about you take him outside again, Jay,” Bruce said, before Jason and the puppy lost the little bout of energy they’d both found, “I want both of you to at least take a nap this morning, and he should probably go before that happens.”

“Sure,” Jason said, hopping up to his feet, “come on, Gable. Let’s go outside. You’ll like it more now that it’s lighter outside.”

“Don’t forget his leash,” Bruce called after him, as Jason skipped out of the room, Gable following close behind.

“I know,” Jason shouted back.

Alfred huffed a short laugh, as he pulled out some breakfast sausage, and got to work preparing them a breakfast.

“Thanks for that, Alf,” Bruce said, once he’d heard Jason make it into the mudroom, “I think it’s really going to help him.”

“Of course my boy,” Alfred said, smiling fondly as he placed sausage on the skillet to cook. His expression shifted, and he turned to Bruce, pointing his spatula at him, “But I was serious. I will not be cleaning pee out of my carpets, do you understand? If that dog—“

“Got it,” Bruce said, holding his hands up, “We’ll handle it, don’t worry.”

Bruce was confident in his ability to clean a rug.

And if he couldn’t, well…

He was certainly capable of hauling it away to the dump and ordering a new one online.

If that was the price he paid for giving Jason the joy he’d already experienced that morning, then Bruce was willing to pay it a hundred times over.

Because for Jason, Bruce would do anything. He deserved nothing less.

[tinyhistory]

Hey! Love your stories so much I just had to ask! Do you have any favorite drarry authors/stories? I sometimes compare the quality of other stories to ROA (oops!) because ROA is just that good. My personal favorites are ROA (of course!), the Foundations Series (saras_girl), the ordeal of being known (louisfake), denouement (the_never_was), Good to Me (And I'd Be So Good to You) (AWickedMemory), and To Hurt and Heal (cassisluna). Have you read these? Have a wonderful day! :)

Thank you, so glad you’ve enjoyed my stories! And thank you for so patiently waiting for a reply. I haven’t been online much in the past couple of weeks. Unfortunately I haven’t read any of your recs, but I’m always happy to add another fic to my to-read list.

I did a rec post a few months ago, but I’ll post an updated version now. The Skyhawke Archives appear to be down, which is crushing news. I’ve had to update a lot of the links.

So here are my favourite Drarry fanfics:

And We Are At Our Apogee (PG-13) by angelgazing

Summary: Draco wanted revenge, but it didn't work out that way.

My notes: Californian beaches, supermarkets, road trips, and a bittersweet ending.

-

A Reckless State of Mind (T) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Draco is a Psyche-Diver, and his newest patient is Auror Potter, who’s been a pathological liar for over a year—and has just tried to violently end his own life.

Notes: The plot alone guarantees inclusion on this list. Probably the most creative fic I’ve ever read, and the twists and turns will keep you guessing.

-

Berlin, In the Year of Our Lord (PG) by Are

Summary: Harry is a green-tea addict. Draco stalks him.

Notes: Probably my all-time favourite fic, along with Blue Vase. It’s sparse and minimal and I love that writing style.

-

Blue Vase (M) by ivyblossom

Summary: Let’s pretend.

Notes: Draco finds an amnesiac Harry and befriends him, pretending they were once lovers. It’s pensive, short, and bittersweet.

-

The Boy Who Only Lived Twice (E) by lettered

Summary: Harry Potter is an Unspeakable. Draco Malfoy is the wizard who shagged him. Adventure! Intrigue! Secret identities, celebrities, spies! It's all right here, folks.

Notes: Action-heavy fics are damn hard to write, but lettered nails it. The action scenes are breakneck speed, the conversations are threaded with double meaning, and even the silences are tense.

-

Draco in Darkness (T) by Plumeria47.

Summary: Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight.

Notes: This is one of the first fics I ever read (when it was over on FF in 2003) so it’s probably here just for nostalgia points alone. I read it when I was a kid and just thought it was a lovely golden fairytale, the best romance I’d ever read in my (very short, thus far) life. I love reading it again, even years later as an adult when I can see the tarnish on it; the things my childhood eyes didn’t notice. I don’t care. It’s my soft and fuzzy comfort fic.

-

The Flesh is Frail (NC-17) by wildestranger

Summary: None

Notes: Draco has injuries from curses and spells, and Harry keeps him company. Draco is angry; Harry is stubborn. They argue their way into a grudging relationship. It’s a short read and well worth your ten minutes.

-

Good-bye to Yesterday (NC-17) by furiosity

Summary: Draco felt ready to face even a million years in Azkaban as long as it meant that at the end of it all, he would make Potter pay.

Notes: It’s not a dark fic, but it certainly dips in and out of the shadows. If you like your romance to be sharp as a razor and bitter as black coffee, give it a read.

-

Hymn to Color (PG) by Lomonaaeren

Summary: Months after Draco cast a curse that took Harry’s eyesight, Harry is still trying to come to terms with it. Draco still wanted forgiveness, which was probably the problem.

Notes: Probably my very inadequate idea of “fluff”. It’s a quiet, introspective fic. Draco and Harry are well-written.

-

Kings among runaways (PG) by enderxenocide.

Summary: Later, the toast will be slightly overcooked, Draco will burn the eggs, and there will be another fist fight in-between the living room and the front door, but they’ll eat breakfast with second-hand plates and Draco’s great-grandmother’s silverware.

Notes: Dreamy descriptions, abstract scenes, and the characters are lovingly delineated. Beautiful writing.

-

On Broken Glass (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: After the final battle, Draco is holding the shards that are left of his and Harry’s life.

Notes: Established relationship. Harry’s forgetful and seems to suffer both short-term and long-term memory loss; Draco stays by his side through six years of post-war amnesia. Very short, just a tiny ficlet. There’s sequels (in bite-size pieces) but I prefer to read the first ficlet and leave it there.

-

Paper Dolls (M) by cupiscent

Summary: In the final year of the War, Draco gets a letter, makes a choice and pays the price.

Notes: Short, succinct, and packs a punch. No character deaths, in case the summary has you feeling nervous.

-

Portrait (PG-13) by Silent Blast

Summary: None.

Notes: Dorian Grey, but Drarry. Of course it’s going to be good.

-

Shattered (NC-17) by femmequixotic

Summary: One damned accident involving one too-lucky curse, and suddenly you'd think he was five again, with their Harry, be carefuls and their quick Levitating charms ready the instant the potion gives way and his rebelling hands lose hold of whatever's in their grasp.

Notes: Draco’s an artist. Harry’s intrigued by his sculptures and paintings.

-

Snatch (PG-13) by didntyoupotter

Summary: Harry is comatose, Hermione and Ron aren’t much help, and Draco isn’t sure about anything anymore.

Notes: The opening scene fools you into thinking this will be a light read with a streak of good humour. Don’t fall for it. By the third act, you’ll be hanging onto every word and feeling a lot of emotions. Also, back in the day, this was one of the Draco/Harry fics. Everyone knew of it. Pay your respects to your fandom history and read this beloved classic.

-

The Stages of Acceptance (T) by Lomonaaeren.

Summary: Harry, already happily married to Ginny, receives the news that he's Draco's mate. Law and custom don't give him the option of ignoring the news. The stages of his reaction, one by one.

Notes: This is not a romance, and I love that the author just casually chucks all the Veela tropes in the bin and says “nope”. In Lomonaaeren’s own words, this fic is more practical than romantic. Harry is unfamiliar with the Veela concepts and hates the very idea of being “shackled” to someone; he rejects Draco at once. Draco is miserable and lonely. They do eventually come to understand each other better, but it’s a huge struggle with lots of setbacks. The general air of pessimism and misery does make the small glimpses of compassion and empathy feel so well-earned. I love a fic that rations out its happiness.

-

The Stately Homes of Wiltshire (E) by waspabi

Summary: Malfoy Manor has mould, dry rot and an infestation of unusually historical poltergeists. Harry Potter is on the case.

Notes: This one needs no introduction. The writing is polished, the characterisation perfect, and the dialogue is fun. I love the humour woven throughout it.

-

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain (E) by faithwood.

Summary: It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that's ever so cross.

Notes: Another one that most of us know. It’s a lighthearted and fun read.

-

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow (M) by novembersnow

Summary: In the war-torn years after Hogwarts, one man has no knowledge of his yesterdays.

Notes: Another classic back in the feverish heyday of the Harry Potter fandom, when books were still being released and everyone had worked themselves up into a shipping frenzy. And no wonder this fic was an instant hit. Draco has lost all his memories and Harry’s investigating as an Auror, but the longer you read, the more you start questioning everything. Good twists and turns that lead to a tender ending.

-

Turn by Saras_Girl

Summary: One good turn always deserves another. Apparently.

Notes: An inevitable inclusion on any favourites list. I think my favourite thing about it is the characterisation. Everyone is so well-rounded; the characters are brought to life and feel like old friends. All their habits, styles, mannerisms, even the way they walk or talk. While I love everyone in this fic, I have to admit that Blaise is just amazing. Of all the thousands of Blaises imagined by fanfic writers, I love this one the best. “Old bean” indeed.

-

Under the Ivy (PG-13) by coffeejunkii

Summary: It is impressive how much you can learn about someone by simply sharing a few rooms. They don’t spend time together, not really, but Harry still knows that Malfoy prefers raspberry jam over strawberry, that he hums along to the Wireless when he thinks no one is around, and that his leg is bothering him more than usual when the temperatures drop below freezing.

Notes: Another old, old favourite of mine. It’s like snuggling into a soft blanket. Remus owns a cottage and Harry moves in after the war. Later, Remus lets a room to Draco, who is an outcast after the war and has limited housing options. Harry isn’t happy at first with the new lodger, but he eventually warms up to Draco. A slow and gentle romance.

-

Vale Sanare (M) by rurounihime

Summary: Draco’s world gains a new component, just when he thought he’d sorted everything out.

Notes: London nightclubs, one-night-stands, loud music and lonely nights. Draco has seizures due to a curse from the war, and the seizures have led to a fear of intimacy. Short and sweet.

-

The Way Down (T) by lettered

Summary: Malfoy’s all, “Come out of there,” the way you say to a cat who is badly behaved. And Harry’s all like, “No, what, I’m a hermit! And I have a chest-monster! And I am crazy magically powerful!” and Malfoy’s all, “We all have problems, bub.” (thoughtfully) “You are crazy though. I’ll give you that.”

Notes: I just adore this fic. The fic starts well-grounded, giving you a solid backstory and matter-of-fact context, but as it goes on, it slowly unravels into dreamy scenes, lush settings, and repeated motifs. It’s just such a beautiful story.

-

When Love beckons to you, follow him (PG-13) by megyal

Summary: Draco wakes up, lost, somewhere in a forest. He has no idea where he is or how he got there. As he is blundering around trying to find his way home, he hears Harry's voice in his head, telling him what to do.

Notes: I generally like my fics to be bittersweet or with a bit of heartache — but this fic is just a little cloud of softness. If you need something light and lovely without being syrupy-sweet, this is a good choice!

-

The World of the Living (M) by fourth_rose

Summary: A traumatised war hero and a convicted criminal under the roof of an eccentric journalist make for a rather odd ensemble, but Luna has never had a problem with oddities as long as they make sense.

Notes: The story is told from Luna’s perspective, which gives everything a lovely dreamy quality. She takes in a couple of strays after the war — first Harry, who is avoiding his other friends and has quit his Auror job — and then she offers a room to Draco right after his trial. Draco is rude, angry, and ungrateful; Harry is churlish, withdrawn, and moody. Luna doesn’t seem to mind in the slightest, and over the course of the next few months, her house guests slowly warm up to each other.

-

Voices From the Fog (E) by noeon

Summary: After years of running away, Harry crosses paths with an all-too familiar face and follows him to Amsterdam.

Notes: Harry drifts across Europe, trying to forget the war. He ends up in a woodworking shop in Amsterdam, alongside a moody Draco. Atmospheric settings and solid characterisation.

[bunny-beloved]

an excerpt from "the return of protesilaus"

As Techno walked, he began to speak again, “I'm gonna destroy that prison block by block,” he growled, to which Phil knitted his eyebrows in confusion, clearly misunderstanding. 

“You were destroying it block by block?” he questioned. 

“No-” Techno sighed, as their steps fell in time with each other. “I’m saying that I’m going to, although technically we were, not very quickly, though . . .” 

He couldn't help but constantly take in everything around him, it felt so new, yet it was the most familiar place in the world.

“That would take weeks!” Phil exclaimed as he turned to face him. Techno whipped around, shooting him a glare.

“Oh, yeah, Phil, if only we’d had weeks,” Techno said through gritted teeth, his frustration rising once more.

“Techno, c’mon, I thought you’d said three months, and we can’t change that now,” he replied tersely.

“And why would I say three months?” He found himself wanting to cry, to scream at Phil and shout till his lungs were sore. He longed to turn around and go right back to the prison, this time armed, so he could end Quackity forever. 

The world seemed to crash and burn around him, and his ears roared as he stared down.

Techno lifted a hand to touch the emerald in his ear, only to remember that he had left it at the house. His hand dropped, and the frustration settled deep within his mind. He stalked forward and grabbed Phil’s shoulders, then hit their heads together. The gesture wasn’t gentle, considering the fact that it was full of frustration, but Phil could tell it wasn’t done with malicious intent.

Despite the shouting and arguing, Techno found himself leaning on Phil for support, wanting to tell him everything, wanting to explain why he was so upset, but he couldn’t. He wanted to fit his emotions into a sentence, to describe how deeply he cared for his friend, to describe everything, but he couldn’t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force his mouth to open.

Phil reacted first, grabbing a hold of Techno and snaking his arms around his waist, wrapping him into a comforting hug, each one accepting that they didn’t want to lose each other. Not because of Quackity, not because of a silly argument over plans that had passed. Techno pulled them down so they were seated together, exhaustion finally taking hold.

“I’m . . . so, so sorry, I shouldn’t have left you in the prison for three months,” Phil whispered into Techno’s hair, and he held onto him with an iron grip. They stared at each other, foreheads still touching, Phil’s immortal golden eyes boring into Techno’s, and his age and wisdom seemed to shine through as the embrace lengthened, two friends finally reunited. 

They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, just clinging to each other, before Phil finally pulled away. He got up slowly, dusting his knees off before reaching a hand out to Techno. The piglin smiled and grabbed it as he rose to his feet.

“Did you get any knowledge? Did you learn anything?” he asked, curiously cocking his head and looking at Techno. The other nodded and started to walk towards the house as Phil continued, “we’re gonna need all of it, cause that prison is very complex.”

They walked into the house and Techno took it in. The warmth seeped into his skin, so different from the overbearing heat of the lava. He turned his eyes to the books, still worn from countless hours that he had spent pouring over them, and to the anvil, where he slid his fingers over the cold surface. 

They got to work, Phil grabbing books he thought Techno might need as Techno fluttered throughout the house. He was slightly dazed as he grabbed equipment. They worked in silence, and Techno shifted uncomfortably now. He had once liked the silence, but being trapped in that cell where your own thoughts feel so loud that they might bounce around the room had changed him. And Phil picked up on that, of course he did, because he’s Phil. He knew Technoblade better than anyone else in the world. Phil cleared his throat as he grabbed another book , 

“So, what was it like in there?” he murmured quietly, not loud enough to break the ambiance they had set.

“Bro . . . it was boring,” he laughed, but the laugh fell flat and died quickly. He wanted to make a joke about it, but at that moment, he felt like Phil needed to know. “It . . . was quiet most of the time,” he whispered, not looking at Phil directly. He could vaguely see Phil nod in reassurance.

“The colour of the walls started to blend together sometimes, the different shades of purple almost warped, in a way? And the lava . . . if I stared long enough, it would sometimes change in speed . . . it was so small in there, Phil . . .” he stilled for a second, taking a deep breath before continuing,

“Dream and I took turns hitting that fucking obsidon, both of our hands were scraped up. There’s our blood on the walls, Phil . . . where we sleep, there’s our fucking blood staining the walls. And I was calm at first but then I got angry and upset, you know? At the situation, at Dream, at you. I had to stay calm, though, if I wanted to go home. Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed.”

He was rambling now, he knew. But he couldn’t stop the flow of words spewing from his mouth. He was practically vomiting sentences, itching to get them out, as he felt the desperation clawing at him. 

“I thought I was going to die,” he whispered, and a tear slid down his cheek. “I-I had a bell, though; I would drive Dream insane with it.”

Phil felt awful, the guilt stripping away at his insides and fogging his mind as he continued to work away. Neither spoke after that, but both were grateful that Techno had put his pain out to dry in the open.

“It doesn’t sound very boring, then,” he laughed lightly, trying to joke and instantly regretting it. He saw the way Techno reacted, the way he caved in on himself and his stomach sunk. He swore if it sank any harder he would fall through the floor with it.

“C’mon mate, you’re out here now,” he tried again, the sickly feeling of regret holding him tight. Techno whipped around and shouted at him, his voice now sore from the repeated outbursts. 

“I could have been out months ago! But I had to stay there, because somebody couldn’t read a book!” he was breathing heavily, and Phil’s breathing was beginning to match.

“It was titled ‘will’!” he cried back, “It’s what you read when someone’s dead!” He could barely hear Techno over the pounding of his heart; his hands were shaking too hard. He knew that he shouldn’t argue back, he had no right to. But he couldn’t help it.

Techno slammed the chest down hard, splintering the wood as he held onto the lid. His knuckles turned white, and he was heaving out his exhales. His voice was trembling with every word he spoke, and his jaw clenched so hard that it hurt . 

“It was so people wouldn’t realise! Don’t you know what good writing is, Phil? It was a fucking diversion, apparently not a good one, because you can’t read! ” The volume was loud, too loud, as his argument suffocated the room. And then the terrible silence had returned once more.

Both of their breathing was too loud, their heart beats deafening. The air outside was too painfully loud.

But Phil’s next words weren’t, “Don’t make fun of me,” he whispered, the pain was so clear in his voice that Techno flinched. “I read the part that said ‘go to the secret book club’, are you happy?” he hissed out. But he wasn’t done. “Aren’t you happy I got you out of death, Techno?” and before he finished, Techno chimed in with his own argument, 

“You helped eventually!” he shouted. Phil started walking out, he couldn't take it. He was suffocating in here. Techno followed him, close on his heels.  

“Do you have any idea how long it takes to punch obsidian?” Techno seethed, clenching his fists. The pain wasn’t held in his palms, but it might as well be. “So much progress was lost! We were monitored, w-”

“ I COULD HAVE LOST YOU, ” Phil screamed. The scream was terrifyingly loud, piercing through Techno’s heart before he could register. He looked at Phil, and when he did, his heart broke. Phil stood there, shaking, as tears ran freely down his face. He couldn't help but sigh and wish that the lump would leave his throat. He walked over, slowly, to where Phil stood, and rested Techno forehead against his once more. 

Techno whispered quietly, almost as if he was afraid of someone intruding on their moment, “I don’t hate you, I can’t hate you . . . I couldn’t if I tried,” and Phil could only nod. 

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Timestuck AU: The Power of Mabel ch.7 (finale)

While fighting over a time machine so one twin can win a pig or the other can win the heart of a girl, Mabel is left stranded in a snowy forest with no time machine and no brother. Oops.

ch.6

AO3 link

~~~~~~~~~~

Ford sat on the kitchen floor with his back against the cupboards, clinging to his knees, his glasses still in hand. His throat was sore and his eyes hurt and his nose was runny and his heart was raw and broken, and yet he wasn’t done crying. Though he was done sobbing and occasionally crying so hard he thought he would throw up, free-flowing tears still streamed down his face as he hid the bottom-half of his head in his beefy arms. 

“What do we do now?” He moaned.

Stan looked at the know-it-all who didn’t have a clue. He sighed and moved to sit next to him, his back against the cupboard and his knees up by his chest as he combed his mullet. “I dunno… Sit here and die?”

Ford hiccuped a cruel laugh and buried his face in his arms fully. “I wish I could.”

Stan snorted. “What’s that saying? The good die young?”

Ford groaned and started to sob again. 

Stan rubbed his back, his head against the cupboard and he looked up at the ceiling. “O-Okay, okay… Let’s think about this. So we never made up, or something else really bad happened between us, and that’s the timeline Mabel was from, right?”

“Right.” Ford gruffed, lifting his head up and rubbing his eyes dry.

“So, since that didn’t happen, or it happened differently… B-But that doesn’t mean she’s… She’ll still exist in our timeline, won’t she? She’s gonna be okay?” He asked the scientist, digging for some kind of hope.

Ford sighed and rested his cleft chin on his arms. “As long as what happened didn’t interfere with Alex’s life too much… Which I don’t know how it could… Mabel and Dipper should still be born in 1999. There’s a small possibility they’ll be different than what they once were, or because of some unseen butterfly effect, their birth might be different or might not happen at all… But…”

The eldest by fifteen minutes slipped his glasses back on, stood, and said stubbornly, “I’m going to do what I can to ensure it is a better future than what the kids had. Our entire family was broken because of what we did and didn’t do. Clearly either one of us went insane or died or something horrible, and I won’t allow that to happen.”

“I don’t think we gotta worry too much about that happening.” Stan said from down on the floor. “I mean, if Mabel changed things so much that an entire reality changed, then we don’t really gotta do much except not screw this up.”

Ford laughed and held out a hand to his twin, who gladly clasped it and stood. “You’re right.”

But the men were disheartened to finally notice the mess in the kitchen. Mabel’s cake batter sat on the flour-dusted counter, the oven was hot and ready for baking, and the muffin tray was on the floor from where Mabel dropped it. Ford looked down at the sweater he was wearing - the sweater she had knitted for him - and without a word he walked to the living room and saw Mabel’s knitting sitting on the couch where she had left it, a completed red sweater with a golden heart on it.

Ford smiled mournfully and held the sweater as Stan joined him and gasped at the sweater. The big brother held it out to the little brother and croaked, “We’ll see her again.”

Stan smiled, cleared his throat, and took off his hoodie and snagged the new sweater to slip it over his old white t-shirt. “Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~

July 22nd, 1980

Ford held the lantern up to better read the writing in the cave. He peered at it and was intrigued by a description of a being with answers. It would be summoned if he read out-loud, and though there were many clear warnings against this, the desperate scientist was extremely tempted.

“Sixer! Let’s move before we get caved in or some shit.” Stan called as he walked up to Ford. “What are you reading, cavemen graffiti?”

“Look, Stanley, there are tales of an all-knowing being with answers. It could help me with my theory…”

“Nope.” Stan grabbed Ford by the collar of his trenchcoat and dragged him away like dragging a child out of a toy store.

“Stanley! Let me go!”

“That shit’s got bad voodoo written all over it! You’ve gotta be inhaling toxic cave gas or something to think summoning a demon is a good idea!”

“We don’t know it’s a demon.”

“Really? Then why does that wall read in old blood ‘Do not summon demon!’?”

“Huh. Well, um…”

“That’s what I thought, now don’t make me pick you up and carry you. Let’s move.” And he lightly shoved Ford forward to lead the walk away from the cave and through the tunnels for sunlight.

~~~~~~~~~~

Alex’s wedding was wonderful and a joyous day, but it also made Ford and Stan nervous. They both agreed not to say a word to anyone (as far as Fiddleford knew, Ford had found the girl’s parents and all was over and ended well), and white they were happy to be one step closer to meeting the kids, they were slightly worried that something might be different than Mabel’s timeline.

She never told them her mother’s name. Did Alex marry someone else? Did they marry at the correct time? There was no way of telling, and they both agreed to allow themselves to enjoy the day and maybe drink a little. Or a lot. 

~~~~~~~~~~

When Shermie called and told them that Alex and Dana were going to have a baby, Ford choked on his coffee and Stan dropped the phone. They silently exchanged looks and were terrified that there was only one baby. But it was seven months before the end of August, so maybe the new parents were choosing to keep everything a surprise. Knowing Alex, that is something he would do, especially if there were twins. A beautiful surprise for his twin uncles.

So they congratulated Shermie and made him swear to call them if anything happened so they could be there. And despite their fear, they were very joyous of becoming grunkles again.

~~~~~~~~~~

August 31st, 1999

The entire week leading up to the day, the men were incredibly anxious. The birthday was on 31st, which meant Dipper and Mabel could be born at 1am on the 31st, or 11pm on the 31st. They had no way of knowing, but as long as that damn telephone stayed silent, they weren't leaving the house all weekend. Neither of them slept the night of the 30th, just in case.

Finally, a little after coffee on the 31st, the phone rang. Both Ford and Stan tackled each other and fought for it, but Stan sat on Ford and grabbed it first.

“Stanley, get off me!”

“Stanley, what are you doing to your brother?” Shermie chuckled on the other end.

“Nevermind that, Sherm!” Stan laughed. “What’s going on with you?” He asked casually, though he smiled down at Ford, who smiled back, despite still being sat on in the kitchen.

“Well, you guys know I’m gonna be a grandpa soon…”

“Really? Had no idea.” Stan said sarcastically as he stood up to get off Ford. “So? Is it happening now?!” Ford ran down the hall.

Shermie laughed. “Yup. I just got here myself and Alex and Dana got here about twenty minutes ago.”

“Piedmont Hospital, right?”

“Right.”

“We’ll be there in six hours.”

“It’s an eight hour drive!”

“I said six hours!”

“STANL-” But Stan hung up the phone.

Stan hurried up to his attic bedroom and dressed in his baby-blue Hawaiian shirt and slacks, while also grabbing a suitcase he’s had ready all week, prepared to stay as long as Alex and Dana needed him.

He ran back downstairs with suitcase in hand, with Ford by the door, and they sprinted into the Stanmobile and drove down the road.

~~~~~~~~~~

Shermie was waiting for them in the hall, beaming with joy, and his little brothers ran to him for a tackle-hug.

“Good to see you, Grandpa!”

“Congratulations, Shermie!”

“Thank you, thank you!”

“Did we miss it?!” Stan asked. “Has it happened yet?!”

Shermie grinned and nodded. “Yes, everyone is safe and fine.” And he opened the door.

The aged explorers beamed (and no, they weren’t crying) to find Alex holding one baby and Dana holding another baby. The eldest pair of twins high-sixed and cheered and then gently approached the little ones, beaming down at them.

It was like they had been holding their breath for twenty years, and now they could finally breathe.

“What are their names?” Ford asked quietly, seeing how each newborn was sleeping soundly.

“This is Mabel,” Alex introduced, giving the bundle to Stan.

“And this is Mason.” Dana said tiredly, giving her son to Ford to hold.

Stan and Ford were a bit concerned with the name change, but one look at the baby boy relaxed them. Of course a name like Dipper was a nickname.

“Matching names, huh?” Stan asked cheekily, cradling Mabel and looking down at her with shining brown eyes.

“We couldn’t help ourselves.” Alex chuckled.

Ford’s eyes were glued to Mason. While of course he had been dying to see Mabel again, he had also been excited to meet his science-loving nephew. He was so cute and small in his polydactyl hands and Ford knew it would take a lot more strength than what he had to let him go.

The author tore his eyes away to see his twin looking down at Mabel with tears in his eyes, holding her close to his heart and trying really hard to hold it together, but his joy and peace was far stronger than any bad habits that stopped him from showing his emotions. Stan lightly kissed Mabel’s cheek and Ford saw his lips barely move, though he didn’t hear what he said. Which was fine by him. Ford smiled back down at Mason, finally content.

No one heard him say it, thank Moses, but Stan couldn’t help himself. He had whispered to his niece as quiet as a mouse, “I’ve missed you, pumpkin.”

And finally, after all these years, the small hole in the boys’ hearts could be filled.

THE END!

[painless-innit-colourful]

Invisible

Potions of invisibility grant the user the ability to disappear, functionally: the concealment of one’s self through magic, distilled into a draught easy to swallow. For better and worse, Tommy’s familiar with the taste.

It tastes sour, primarily. 

Looking at the ingredient list, no wonder. Nether wart and fermented spider eye. Gross. There are some things a golden carrot just can't balance out. 

It's such a disgusting taste he doesn't notice the shimmering feeling, instead focusing his attention on scraping a thin layer of translucent brown sugar-mushroom-spider ick off his tongue. Not until: 

"Tommy?" "Y- Bleh- Yeah?" "Oh!" Tubbo waves his arms in a wild arc, smile growing, before his hand collides with Tommy's arm, and he picks up Tommy's wrist. "It worked!" "What do you- Ohhh..." 

If he blurs his vision, Tubbo's fingers circle around nothing. If he looks properly, he can just about see the edges of his wrist, the lines of his shirt sleeve. "Dude, how does that work?" "Which bit?" "Clothes. My clothes didn't drink it too." "Dude, I dunno... My turn!" 

They learn to spot the tiny signs of an invisible person. They learn to disguise them. Tommy tries to tackle Tubbo and misses completely, and both of them fall about laughing. 

Call that a drug van success story. 

--- 

He sprints past it, hoping they aren’t following, panic filling his bloodstream. He chugs the potion as he runs, drops spilling down his front, staining his navy coat with off-white shadows as he shimmers and disappears into thin air. 

Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

He stumbles into the shallow waters of the lake, wading - disturbing the water, too many signs, you're gonna be seen - towards Tubbo's tunnel. He takes three steps and slips under the surface, landing on his hands and knees on the tunnel floor, waiting, waiting- Where are they? 

There's the sound of an arrow seeking its mark and hitting true, and for a split second Tommy sees an arm with deft fingers and a dark blue sleeve fall over the side of the entrance, and then the body is gone and shit shit shit- 

Tommy sticks his head back out- Who was that? Wilbur? Tubbo? He feels the shimmering feeling again - "a quick escape", where are the others - and slowly drops back to the tunnel floor. 

Make a decision, what if they find you, Little Laddy One Life? He walks away, opting to live to fight another day, hoping that his friends will join him soon. 

--- 

Funnily though, while clothes disappear with the potion, armour doesn't. He doesn't know why; he's not smart enough to. And right now, as he yanks the shoulder straps of his chestplate tight, he doesn't really care. 

"Stop!" They don't stop, voices mostly drowned out by the overwhelming sound of rushing water. Dream, his face also hidden, but by his signature mask as opposed to the magic of an invisibility potion, holds his hand towards Tubbo and tells him "I need the disc." Tommy crests the wreckage of the Community House, no longer attempting to stay hidden as the water thunders down around his ankles, pulling him towards the platform in the centre. It's a bizarre version of the Pit. It’s an arena. It's a stage. 

"No!" He screams, as Tubbo takes half a step back towards the ender chest. Heads snap to his position, looking at the empty suit of armour that's just appeared beside and above them. Tubbo stutters something in quiet disbelief, and between that and the sudden attention, Tommy falters. If he took off his armour now, could he get out of there? Or would the same fate that once befell Wilbur catch him? The blame for this building is on him, after all. 

He jumps in, landing on his feet between Dream and the cabinet of L'Manberg. He is caught in the crossfire of their questions: "Tommy?" "Is that Tommy?" 

He shouts, and he screams, and he revolves like a merry-go-round, trying to keep his eyes on everyone, not trusting that his armour'll be enough to protect him from the sheer amount of enemies about. So many people hate him, he realises, it's 30 v 2. Technoblade would like those odds. Technoblade, who's standing beside him, not invisible because he went to get milk. He likes the protection; he thinks. 

They don't listen. Tubbo keeps insisting he betrayed them all by teaming with Techno, that he betrayed L'Manberg, but they don't understand, he didn't have a choice, "You don't know what he did to me in exile." Tubbo has the disc in his hands, and without having an inkling of where Dream's eyes are, he watches him consider simply snatching it from Tubbo's hands. 

"You're not gonna give him the disc." Tubbo looks at him like it's a dare, and why can't he see? Tommy's practically crying with the effort and exertion of watching his best friend betray him in slow motion, of being this close to his abuser, of being blamed for something he didn't do, of being beaten down every time he gets on his damn feet. 

"I don’t need to prove myself to you. This wasn’t me. Trust me. Jesus— for once in your life, Tubbo, trust me." Tubbo's eyes are cold, his mind made up. What happened to us against the world?  "I did trust you. Once. The first time all of this happened. And I won’t make the same mistake twice." 

There's a little moment where time stops, and everyone draws nearer like a crowd at the coliseum, and Tommy feels his invisibility ripple slightly, warning him it's about to wear off. Who the fuck cares. 

Tubbo takes a step towards Dream, and Tommy lunges to put himself between them. "Don't you dare." Tubbo's hand goes to his axe. "You betrayed me, Tubbo, you- Did you just-" Both of their eyes are on Tubbo’s weapon, when he puts the disc away, staring Tommy down plainly with his one hand returning to the axe at his waist, and the other taking out his shield. "I didn't betray you." His voice is level, all business. Okay then, Mr President.

"You betrayed everything that you'd built with presidents prior." Tommy's anger, and hurt, and frustration, and pain finally boils over, so much so that it's visible in the way he shakes as he brings out his axe. "You know what?" He bites into a golden apple, feeling its effects drown out the rushing water and the shimmering sensation of his invis. "You've got your axe up." Technoblade’s tone is surprised but light as he tells Tommy to make this decision wisely, but he’s already gone, his safety and conscience be damned. He throws himself at Tubbo, brandishing his axe as the pigman taught him, like he once practised with the brown-haired boy he’s swinging at, thinking You say I betrayed you? I'll show you a traitor. 

Poetically, perhaps, it's less like a fight, and more like a dance. They are a whirlwind - a hurricane - clashing and blocking and pushing and shoving across the otherwise empty floor. Somewhere in the gushing water, Technoblade's bloodlust has seized him, and he's gone for the L'Manbergians and the festival-goers and the unrelated parties that came when they saw the destruction, and he's scattering them this way and that, but who cares about that? 

They are not equally matched. Tommy shakes too much: there is too much of him vulnerable here, not just his mortality, something that neither invisibility nor armour can keep from being scratched and damaged. He's losing. He's quite badly losing, despite Tubbo's inferior armour and weapons and allies, and he leaps into the nearest watery wall, letting the Respiration helmet Techno made for him protect him as the water drags him under and away from his attacker. His best friend. He bites into another golden apple, his pleas swallowed by the torrent. He still hears Tubbo's shout though, permeating the water and being relayed through his communicator from wherever Techno is. 

"Where are you?" 

He pops back up, shaking and soaking wet and sees a familiar sight: an old friend, a brother - once - staring him down with death in his eyes from behind brown hair. He was wrong, oh so wrong, all those weeks ago: at once he is Schlatt, alone at the end of his days, and there's Wilbur, old pals who'll be the death of each other. No. 

No. 

"I didn’t betray you, you teamed up with the very person that destroyed us the first time!" He feels his invis shimmer one more time, and the timing is immaculate, really. Cinematic, one might say. 

"I went for the discs— Tubbo, the discs— The discs were worth more than you ever were!" "No... Wh- Th-" The world stands still, and it feels so good, it's so good to finally say it, to watch Tubbo's face fall, his shield slipping from his hand, listen to the reactions around their little arena, watch as Tubbo shuts his mouth and yanks on the strap of his chestplate and lets it drop to the floor, leaving him defenceless and open to attack and wait- no- wait- 

Mutely, Tommy’s gaze drifts skyward, and it should feel good because they know now, they know how he feels, but it's not, it's not good because that- that wasn't true. That wasn't right. 

And he looks back at Tubbo, and finally, finally, his invis runs out, and he hopes it shows on his face, that he knows he's fucked up because Tubbo looks destroyed, and a shiver goes through him because he no longer looks angry he just- He just looks sad. 

He takes off his helmet, breathing heavily from the ache and exertion, heart burning in regret. 

‘The discs were worth more than you ever were.’

How do you fix that? For one crazy moment, he considers the invis again. Turning translucent and running, back to Techno- back to Technoblade who'd congratulate him on 'moving on' and tell Phil like he was proud and probably write that line on the fucking wall, how could he be such a monumental ass- 

"Tubbo?" Their eyes meet. Tubbo says nothing. 

"Give him the disc." 

He looks bewildered, "You want me to give Dream the disc?" He says, the tiniest sliver of something they used to have peeking through, the bearest hint of kindness, and bless him, it's more than Tommy deserves. It makes him want to go invisible again. 

He smiles softly, and it can't reach his eyes, but he pours every ounce of good left in him into it and desperately hopes it's enough.

"Yeah." And because he's fucked up, because he knows they can never go back from this: "I'm sorry Tubbo." 

--- 

He's done it again, he keeps fucking up. Sam's hand is holding him down by the shoulder, firm fingers digging into him, keeping him from reaching Ghostbur. 

He tried so hard. His throat is sore from not coughing. His muscles hurt from the pure tension and adrenaline coursing through his bloodstream, from his stubborn heart to the ends of his fingers and toes. He thought he'd gotten caught when he drank the potion in the waivers room, and his heart had been beating so loud that he'd thought Sam could hear it. 

Yet, they made it. But it doesn't matter, because he pulled out the axe too early, and now he's busted, and Sam's gonna kill him or Wilbur's going to come back or both, and it's all his fault. 

Every time he tries. Every time he tries to fix things, or do what's right, or have something for himself, it's taken away, destroyed and he's kicked to the ground. Every time. 

It's enough to make anyone want to be invisible.

[awritingtree]

The Glistening Sun and The Glowing Moon

Remus Lupin x Hufflepuff!reader

Summary: Remus Lupin has finally gotten a chance to spend time with his long-term crush but he messes up. Will she forgive him? Will he ever build up the courage to tell her how he feels?

@slytherinquill’s writing challenge: Prompt 16. ***A: *In a conversation with B* So… What do we do now?C: “In the other room* What did they say?!A: Stop eavesdropping if you’re not even going to be good at it!*** The prompts have been bolded :)

Someone please tell me if they know the new url because I never know when people change it

Words: ~3.3k

Warnings: scars, self-deprecation/hate, body issues, slight bullying about appearance, pining, fluff, tiny bit of angst, 

A/N: so I tried my best with how having scars and everything feels. I’m posting after ages because I'm really busy studying for my med school exam and tbh I was lazy. But I finally posted!! I hope you enjoy this xx

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Remus Lupin often found himself pondering what he had done to receive a cruel fate. What had he been thinking when he fell for Y/N Y/L/N, the girl that brightly lit up every room she entered. The girl who was not only smart but kind and modest too, the girl who excelled in her lessons with hard work and perseverance. The girl that was so beautiful, she was a walking masterpiece.

They could not be more different. While Y/N spoke to almost everyone, had friends in every house, Remus could only call seven Gryffindors his friends.

Remus cowered in fear; made himself look much smaller than he is to hide away from the rest of the world. But Y/N Y/L/N; Y/N would walk around with her head held up high, wearing the scar that stretched from the beginning of her right eyebrow, down across her nose and cheek and to her left jaw proudly. Remus had always noticed her around, she was good friends with Lily but she had never interacted with any of the Marauders. Well not unless you count the times she'd tell them to be quiet when they were causing a ruckus during class.

Remus had spoken to Y/N once, on a complete accidental note. He’d heard her complaining to her friends about how she was nervous about the upcoming Potions assignment as they waited for Professor McGonagall to allow them into her classroom. He had blurted it out thoughtlessly like a complete and utter fool.

“I could tutor you!”

His eyes had widened, his face flushing as she turned around with a confused look on her face, wondering who’d spoken. When her Y/E/C eyes fell on his blushing face she’d smiled softly.

“Really?” she had asked with a hopeful glint in her eyes.

Remus’ hair had flopped everywhere as he had nodded vigorously, stuttering out a quiet yes. Her friends had giggled at his flustered behaviour causing his scarlet face to redden further. But Y/N, Y/N had taken no note of his embarrassing behaviour and thanked him for his offer saying she would talk to him soon. The hope in his chest had blossomed like a sunflower under the spring sun.

But that had been a week ago and Remus had not yet held one conversation with her. He’d often witnessed her walking around the corridors with her friends who seemed to always start giggling when he passed by them, probably laughing about their previous encounter, one he believed he had completely humiliated himself in. The only interaction Remus had with Y/N in the past week was the smiles they shared whenever they saw each other and so, his hope dwindled.

“Why don’t you just ask her out, Moony?”

Remus snapped out of his daydream at the sound of James’s voice. He blushed as Y/N sent him a smile, realizing he’d been caught staring. Sending a shy smile back he looked away.

He slammed his head against the wooden table groaning, “Kill me. Just kill me, Prongs.”

“I thought Padfoot was supposed to be the dramatic one,” Peter commented.

Remus lifted his head to send his friend a glare as Sirius exclaimed in protest.

“Why don’t you just ask her out?” Lily asked kindly.

Remus leaned against his arm, the heel of his palm tucked under his chin as his hazel eyes drifted back to the girl sitting on the Hufflepuff table.

“She’s just so beautiful, intelligent, kind and I’m just… me.”

He sighed, placing his hands on his laps and playing with them, his blond hair falling onto his forehead brushing against his eyelashes whenever he blinked. All his friends frowned at his insecure thoughts, they hated the way he saw himself. They desperately wished that their friend could see the way they saw him, the way everyone saw him, but himself.

“That’s not true-”

“Hello, Remus.”

Remus' head snapped up at the sound of the sweet voice, the voice that sounded like tiny bells chiming in the wind to his ears.

“Hi- hi. Hello Y/N.”

Y/N giggled slightly at his stuttering but in a manner that didn’t make him feel like she was laughing at him.

“I was wondering if it would be alright if we met up at the library today?”

Remus let out a sound, flabbergasted. Y/N’s eyes widened, quickly proceeding to justify her request.

“I mean you said you’d help me with the upcoming Potions assignment! I thought I would take you up on the offer,” she said in a hurry.

Remus stared at her in disbelief. Only when a sharp pain shot through his shin did he open his mouth.

“Oh um. Yes. Alright. Of course. Today. Library. Potions. No problem. Okay. Yes.”

Y/N relaxed, smiling at him gratefully.

“Thank you!” she said, bouncing slightly in place, “Is after classes alright?”

Remus mutely nodded, dumbfounded, his mind still processing what was happening.

“Great. See you then!” Y/N said before heading back to her group of friends who were watching the entire scene play out at the Hufflepuff table, walking with a newfound skip in her steps.

“You are pathetic,” said Sirius as he watched his friend slam his head back onto the table.

It would surely leave a mark based on how loud the smack sound was.

He had once again humiliated himself in front of Y/N and this time he believed there was no way to redeem himself. There was no chance in hell that she didn’t believe he was a complete moron.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Remus had been hyping himself up the entire day, barely concentrating on any word that left his professors’ mouths. He spent the full day preparing himself to not make a fool out of himself again.

He took a deep breath and shook out the nerves from his body before walking into the library at the end of the day towards the table where Y/N was already sitting.

Her Y/H/C was pulled back into a low ponytail, a few stray strands framing her gorgeous face. Her eyebrows were furrowed as she scanned the book open in front of her. The scar on her face was light, standing out prominently under the bright sunlight streaming in through the window she was sitting next to. In her hands was a quill which she was twirling around absentmindedly as she looked for information in the pages before her.

Remus stood afar for a while, admiring her simplistic beauty, one that never once managed not to take his breath away.

He slowly strode up to the table once he realized he had been staring at her for an amount of time that was borderline creepy. He quietly placed his bag near the foot of his chair as he sat down on it, slouching.

Y/N jumped in her seat at the quiet greeting he whispered. Her startled Y/E/C eyes relaxed as they landed on his figure. She pushed a strand of hair out of her face.

“Sorry,” she muttered, “I was a bit startled.”

Remus smiled endearingly at the sight of her crimson cheeks, “It’s all right. I should’ve used a better method to make you aware of my presence rather than scaring you.”

Y/N quickly pulled out her Potions textbook from her bag, removing another spare piece of parchment along with it.

“So where shall we begin?” she asked with a small grin.

The two got to work; Remus explaining the assignment and what was required while Y/N sat and listened. The sky outside began to change colours, the blue fading into an ocean of orange, pink, purple and red. The sunlight switched from a bright to a deep shade of orange.

Y/N admired Remus’ face as the setting sun cast shadows on his features. His light brown hair resembled a golden halo at the top of his head in the sunshine. His green-coloured eyes mesmerized her; she had always loved the colour of his eyes. They reminded her of the vast forest standing out at the edge of Hogwarts, the luscious grass, the mint that gave her the morning mint tea. Remus held the colours of budding spring in his eyes; ever-young, bold and beautiful. Y/N’s eyes trailed the shape of Remus’ eyebrows, the sharpness of his rosy cheeks, the prominence of his jaw. She outlined the curves of his mouth, his tongue poking out every few minutes to wet his pink chapped lips.

“Hello? Y/N?” Y/N blinked, almost comically, as Remus’ deep voice brought her out of her daydream.

Her cheeks unwillingly burned under his stare, ashamed that she had been caught daydreaming about him, not that he knew that in particular.

“Yes, yes. Sorry,” she said.

Remus peered at her through his eyelashes, “It’s okay. I know it can get a bit boring.”

Y/N paid no mind to his words, frowning as she noticed his slouching body, trying to make himself appear shorter than he was. His head was hunched over, his neck never fully straight, concealing his face from the world.

Y/N ignored the worried look on Remus’ face and reached forward to brush the hair covering his dreamy eyes out of his forehead. His hair was soft just like she’d had dreamt it would be.

Remus stared at her, his lips slightly parted in shock. The feeling of her smooth hand running through his hair putting him in a daze. Her hand trailed the side of his face, stopping under his chin lifting his head to stand straight up. Remus’ eyes dropped to the chipped wood on the tabletop as she whispered a question.

“Why do you hide yourself?”

Before Remus could respond, a band of Slytherins passed by their table snickering.

One of the members spoke, “Look what we have here. The scarfaces are friends.”

The group burst out laughing. Y/N went to stand up, enraged and ready to give them a piece of his mind but a hand pulling her back down stopped her. She turned to look at Remus confused as to why he was stopping her.

“Leave it,” he whispered, “Reacting will only make it worse.”

The pit of snakes walked out of the library yelling out other taunts and not quietening down even as Madame Pince shushed them.

Y/N gazed at Remus who could not seem to meet her eyes. Upon hearing the rustling of papers, Remus looked up to see Y/N packing her bag, upset.

“Y/N, wait!”

“I’m sorry Remus. Thank you for your help but I need to go,” she said before hastily making her way out of the library without giving him a chance to reply. Remus watched Y/N’s retreating figure defeatedly until she disappeared. Remus sighed, burying his face into his hands.

‘Why can’t you do anything right?’ he scolded himself.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

Another week passed by. During this week, Remus did all he could to apologize to Y/N but she would not give him the time of the day. She avoided him like the plague; leaving the Great Hall when he entered, sitting as far away as possible in the lessons they shared, took different longer routes to her lessons through which she knew there would be no chance of bumping into him. She even went as far as spending all of her free time in the Hufflepuff common room, never once stepping foot into the library.

Others didn’t know why she was so upset. No one knew what it was like to live with such imperfections displayed on their face for all to see.

Y/N understood that Remus didn’t like others to see his scars but that did not mean she didn’t. She had worked so hard to build her confidence up to what it was. She had put a lot of effort into priding herself on how she looked, not to be ashamed. She had taught herself not to cower away from her reflection or due to the weight of others’ whispers and stares. So when Remus, the one person she had expected to understand, had stopped her from standing up for herself, for them, she felt hurt.

It may be an overreaction and Y/N should’ve forgiven Remus by now but when he had told her to sit back and quietly listen to the horrendous opinions others had about them, she felt annoyed, offended, hurt. But most importantly she felt disfigured.

Remus knew he had messed up. He had messed up big time. He had never been satisfied with how he looked, the scars marking his face making him feel ugly. But that was until he had seen Y/N in their second year. The Hufflepuff girl with a scar similar to his, who wore the scar like a brave warrior.

Remus had believed he was helping her when he’d stopped her from fighting with the Slytherins but it seemed he had made things much worse because by not speaking up against their vile words. He had in a way confirmed their words, confirmed that the scars were ugly, a thing to be ashamed of and disgusted by. He had unintentionally said that he believed their words to be true, that he thought he was hideous, that Y/N’s face was repulsive.

“Talk to her.”

“What the bloody hell do you think I’ve been trying to do this past week?” Remus asked, annoyed as he shoved another piece of chocolate into his mouth.

It was his third chocolate bar of the day and it was only noon.

“I mean corner her. Give her no means to escape then she’ll have to listen,” Sirius shrugged, moving about their shared room to fall face-first onto his bed.

“Bad move. She’ll hate you even more,” James said, his voice muffled by his pillow.

“What other option does he have left?” Peter spoke up as he ate yet another piece of cauldron cake.

“I should just leave her alone,” said Remus quietly, playing with a loose thread on his sweater, “It’s clear she wants nothing to do with me.”

He gazed at the thread for a bit, his mouth turned down.

“I think I’m going to go for a walk. Clear my head,” he said, getting up and leaving.

Sirius lifted his head from his head to look at his two best friends, “I think we know what to do boys.”

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

After a long walk through the grounds of Hogwarts, Remus was making his way back to the Gryffindor common room, his head in a much better mindset than before. The corridor was surprisingly empty but he guessed everyone must be in their rooms, catching up on some much-needed sleep or doing the humongous pile of work they’d been assigned.

Remus paused and looked around the corridor thinking he had heard some footsteps. He shrugged and continued on his way when his eyes saw nothing but armours and portraits. Suddenly a push forced him into a classroom, the door locking behind him.

Remus stumbled before starting to bang on the door in a panic. “Hey! This is not funny! Open up!”

“Don’t bother,” a silky voice cut his shouting short, “I’ve been trying that for the past few minutes and no one is opening the door.”

Realization dawned on Remus. He turned around to face Y/N, a guilty look on his face, “I think I might know who is responsible.”

“Your friends. I know, it became obvious when you were shoved into the door.”

Remus smiled apologetically, “I’m sorry. I don't know what they were thinking. They shouldn’t have-”

“Remus,” she stopped his ramble, “It’s okay. I know you weren’t involved in whatever they planned.

“You never seem to be,” she shrugged.

Remus looked at her curiously, “What do you mean?”

Y/N looked down at the feet, trying to hide the blush on her cheeks as she realized what she seemed to have admitted.

“Your pranks. I’ve noticed you usually don’t participate in many of them.”

Remus raised his eyebrows at her confession, “Yo- you’ve noticed me?”

Y/N looked up and gazed into his eyes, “I’ve always noticed you.”

Remus gulped, lost on what to do next, “Why?”

Y/N smiled at Remus walking up to him.

To Remus, Y/N may glisten like the sun but to Y/N, Remus glowed. He glowed like the moon hanging in the night sky taking attention away from the billions of twinkling stars. He glowed to bring light on the darkest of nights.

Remus’s eyes closed in pleasure, suppressing a shiver as she traced his scars endearingly.

“Why?” she whispered.

Remus let out a shaky breath at her proximity, her breath fanning his lips.

“Because I find you to be exquisite, Remus Lupin.”

Remus gasped as Y/N’s lips touched his. His eyes fluttered shut as their lips moved against each other slowly and clumsily, testing the new waters they found themselves in.

Y/N pulled away and began to press soft kisses against his scars. In between each sentence she spoke, “You are intelligent. You are kind. You are caring. You are beautiful.”

She cupped his face in her hands looking directly into his teary eyes, trying to make him believe that she meant every single word that fell from her lips from the bottom of her heart, “You are perfect Remus.”

Remus pressed his lips firmly against Y/N’s, encircling an arm around her waist bringing her closer as his other hand cupped her face and tilted it allowing him to deepen the kiss. Y/N’s hands left Remus’ face and buried themselves in his hair, tugging at it. Their lips moved passionately against each other, their senses overwhelmed with the amount of serotonin coursing through their veins.

They pulled away from each other with giddy smiles on their faces. Remus tucked her hair behind her ear before trailing down to admire the crescent moon necklace that hung around her neck, the metal cold against his warm fingertips.

“So... what do we do now?” Remus asked insecurely.

Y/N was stopped from answering at the sounds of rustling and whispering, “What did they say!?”

Remus sighed in exasperation before shouting, “Stop eavesdropping if you’re not even going to be good at it!”

A thump of a body falling against the floor and a few curses later, the sound of receding footsteps echoed through the otherwise empty corridor and classroom.

Remus smiled lovingly at the sight of Y/N trying to hush her giggles by covering her mouth.

“I’m sorry about them,” said Remus after her giggling died out.

“They are not much different from my friends,” Y/N reassured him, “They were chaperoning our study date last week. I’m surprised you didn’t notice them.”

“Study date, huh?” Remus questioned with a smirk.

“Well yeah,” Y/N shrugged, looking at her hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of Remus’ sweater, “At least I hoped it was.”

Remus chuckled, glad to not be the one who was flustered for once. He placed two fingers below Y/N’s chin to lift her gaze to his.

“Actually, I was hoping I could take you out on a proper first date tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow? But it’s a-”

“Sunday, yes. But my plans don’t involve Hogsmeade.”

“That’s only if you have the time. If you want to,” Remus quickly added, hoping it didn’t look like he was forcing her into anything.

Y/N smiled lovingly, “I would love to.”

In Y/N’s opinion, the consequent radiant smile that overtook Remus’ face outshone the sun, moon and stars combined.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

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[atiny-ahgase]

The Promise And A Stray Pup

Title: The Promise And A Stray Pup

Chapter 2: Promise You’ll Be Good

Author’s Note: Okay so I usually write the author’s notes before I even write the story idk why… I just do. Anyway, I had no idea how this is gonna turn out soo..yeah.

Summary: Y/n returns home in search of a hybrid friend that she had left oh so long ago. Will she be able to help him? Did their friendship withstand the hands of time or did it crumble from the pressure? 

This is chapter 2 of the Series “A Pinky Promise And A Stray Pup, you can read chapter 1 here.

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Pairing: Hybrid Yunho x Gender Neutral Reader

Word Count: 4.1k

Genre: Hybrid au, Fluff, Smut

Warnings: Smut, Dom Reader, Sub Yunho, Edging, Controlled Orgasm, Masturbation

Contains: Hybrid Yunho, Gender Neutral Reader, Fluff, Smut

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

You paced through the narrow hallway of your one-bedroom apartment for what seemed like the millionth time. Releasing a loud groan you dove unto the soft cushions of your couch, burying your face in one of your many throw pillows. It had been exactly 2 days,14 hours, and 27 minutes since you had last seen Yunho...not that you were counting or anything. He seemed kinda off during your last interaction, his breathing seemed strained and his cheeks were a bright shade of pink, granted his face seemed to be tinted that light shade of pink quite often. His voice wasn’t the smooth sweet melody that you had already become so used to, it seemed deeper, almost huskier. Sure, he had just woken up but still, something felt off to you. Maybe you were overthinking it, over-analyzing the situation as you usually did but how could you not? He hadn’t contacted you for two whole days. Sure, he could be busy with work but when you visited his workplace they said that he hadn’t been in on that day. Then where was he? What could he possibly be doing?

What if he was sick? What if he had realized that you weren’t the same kindergartener that he had met so many years ago? What if he didn’t want to be friends with you anymore? What would you do then? Everything that you had done since the moment you and Yunho had parted ways was all done to meet him again. You studied extra hard to get a scholarship, you worked extra shifts to pay off apartment expenses, you settled on choosing this apartment because it was closer to your old school. Everything that you had done was all for him but...what if he didn’t want that? What if he was having second thoughts? Where would that leave you? What would you do when your entire reason for bettering yourself decided that you weren’t enough?

He said that he’d come to visit you again but it's been two days and still nothing, you were starting to worry. Sure you hadn’t seen him for twelve years prior but now even a day without him feels unbearable. You’d wondered how you had survived so long without having him by your side. Even your tiny apartment felt as though it had tripled in size since his absence, the walls seemed to have expanded overnight, feeling far too large for just you. Yunho seemed to fit so perfectly in your life so the fact that he wasn’t there next to you felt like such a foreign feeling even though he had only recently reentered it.

Your worrying carried on for the remainder of the week and before you knew it classes had begun. The first couple of days were pretty basic; mostly consisting of introductions and lesson plans. You had even somehow managed to befriend the bespeckled hybrid boy who sat next to you in your Math class. His hair was dyed a soft orange which highlighted the warmth of his smile, he wore an oversized hoodie and round-rimmed glasses. Even seated he towered over you, and to be quite honest you were originally incredibly intimidated by his large stature but that lasted a solid two minutes. His dog-like playfulness immediately shining through, casting away all of your prior fears. You had both managed to get pretty close before your class had started, him laughing at all of your jokes, his tail happily wagging behind you as he clutched his stomach, tears springing from his eyes.

He introduced himself as Mingi, a dog hybrid who only moved in a few months ago, apparently he wanted a fresh place to make a new start and opted for somewhere quiet. Surprisingly you both shared a lot of the same courses which was great for you because now you had a seat buddy. The rest of the day went by pretty smoothly and it was finally time for lunch, you and Mingi sat on the wooden benches across from the school library, taking in the way the yellow leaves danced in the wind as the breeze sang a gentle song. Your shoulders brushed each others’ as you listened to his stories about his hometown, your attention hanging on to every single word that he spoke. His way of telling stories captivated you, it was as though you were watching a movie, every scene that he set was so vivid, it was as though you were living through each moment. Before long your school day had ended and it was finally time to go home. Walking out from your final lecture for the day you looked up at the sky “, Looks like it’s about to rain,” you hypothesized.

“Please don’t jinx it, the UNI’s Shuttle doesn’t drop me off at the front of my house and I really don’t wanna walk through the rain,” he explained with an exasperated sigh. Soon after his words were uttered a thunderous roar was heard from the sky and raindrops began falling unto the earth below. You could hear the displeased groans from your friend beside you which caused you to let out a small laugh. “Alright Mingi tell me where you live and I’ll think about giving you a ride”, you jokingly said while pulling him in the direction of your car. “You’re the best Y/n,” he said before engulfing you into a hug from behind. “Mingi you’re gonna crush me then I’lldie before I drive you home,” you exclaimed while trying to control your laughter. Were all dog hybrids this affectionate?

Mingi lived fairly close to the supermarket where Yunho worked which was great for you since you found yet another excuse to ‘drop in’ after you had dropped Mingi off. Unfortunately, Yunho wasn’t there yet again and quite honestly it was starting to get on your nerves. You released a loud sigh before heading to your car and driving home. It was only upon arriving home did you notice Mingi’s jacket seated comfortably on your back seat. You playfully rolled your eyes before retrieving it and bringing it into your apartment. Pulling out your phone you sent him a quick text informing him that you were holding his jacket for ransom and if he doesn’t buy you breakfast tomorrow then he’ll never see it again. You know just a basic text. After that was done you decided that your couch was as good a place as any for Mingi’s jacket to rest for the night.

Not long after getting comfortable, you heard someone knocking at your door. “Who could that be?” you thought. You didn’t know that many people from around here and even if you did they didn’t know where you lived. Getting up from your couch you walked over to the door pulling it open to reveal who was on the other side.

“And here I thought that you forgot where I lived,” you remarked as you looked up at the dog hybrid towering above you. Of course, it was Yunho, the only other person in town that knew where you lived was your landlady, and something was telling you that she had little to no reason to come knocking on your door at this hour. “I’m really sorry Y/n,” you heard him say softly, if it had been any quieter you would not have heard him at all. Looking at his face it seemed a lot paler than you remembered and he wore a tired expression as though he hadn’t slept for days.

“I wanted to come to see you sooner but I was really sick and I wanted to call but I didn’t have your number,” he began to explain in a voice that was even gentler than what you were used to. Even the yellow of his eyes seemed to dull significantly, how could you stay mad at someone in that state. To be honest, he could have shown up at your doorstep in peak condition and no excuse, and you’d probably still forgive him. For the longest time whether you were together or apart you had the softest spot for Yunho, even with the greatest determination once you looked into those golden eyes your heart would surely falter.

“You should probably come in, it’s getting pretty chilly these days,” you smiled up at him before further opening the door allowing him inside. Closing the door you sat on the couch and patted the spot beside you expectantly. Yunho taking that as his cue quickly filled in the empty space next to you engulfing your body in his warmth. You had quickly become used to having him next to you so much that his absence for those few days had you feeling incredibly cold. “I really am sorry Y/n, I didn’t mean for this to happen,” he explained as he placed his head on your shoulder nuzzling into your neck.

Placing your hand at the nape of his neck you were about to comfort him about the situation; since he seemed to be beating himself up quite a bit. However, before you could otter a word you could feel his grip on you tightening slightly.

“Y/n” you heard him say no louder than a whisper, his voice deeper than you were used to, “Whose jacket is this?” Referring to the green jacket which was placed on the couch.

“Oh, that’s Mingi’s he forgot it in my car-,” you began but before you could finish you felt a sharp pain at your collar bone followed by the soothing sensation of his warm tongue gliding over your bruised skin. You could feel it caressing your skin so tenderly that goosebumps began to form all over your body. “Yunho,” you whimpered in his arms while struggling to escape his grasp.

“I don’t like it. Why are you spending time with other hybrids when you already have me?” he calmly stated, punctuating each word with gentle kisses running along your throat. “I’ve only just found you, I’m not letting another hybrid take you away from me. You’re mine and I’m yours” he continued on while tightening his grip on you even more. His body pressed firmly to yours as he continued to nip on the tender skin of your neck. 

The area began to burn with the most pleasant of pains, your body aching in the best way imaginable. But you knew that you couldn’t stay like that otherwise he would just continue to misunderstand you. “Yunho could you just listen-,” you tried to reason with him as best as you could even though you could hear your voice falter as his lips reached your collarbone. This was the second time he had done this and as pleasurable as it is also beginning to get tiring.

You kept on telling yourself that this was bad no matter how good he made you feel. You couldn’t deny that you could easily become addicted to the sensation of his body on yours; completely trapping you in its warmth. But you couldn’t just let him do as he pleased. It’s true that hybrids have a more difficult time controlling their emotions but this is not an excuse. He couldn’t just continue to act on impulse every time his emotions get too strong. It gets easier with time and a hybrid of Yunho’s age should already be adequately good at it.

But I guess that’s the difference between Yunho and other hybrids his age, they were probably trained better than Yunho. He lived his younger years on the street so there is a possibility that he still hasn’t perfected self-control. He was like a puppy in an adult dog’s body; succumbing to every urge that comes his way. Gathering your thoughts you took a deep breath before speaking. “Yunho sit,” you said in a stern voice, much more than you ever thought you could muster up. You felt his body become rigid against yours but he made no actions to remove himself from you. “Yunho sit!” you said with a little more force; your eyes piercing into his. You heard him whimper before he peeled himself away from you to have a seat. You had expected him to return to his previous spot beside you but he didn’t. Yunho opted to sit on his heels at the base of the couch; right where your feet had lain. His head hung low as his palms gently rested on his knees.

Seeing the sight before you left you struggling to remain seated, he looked so ductile, so obedient and something about it made you feel so hot. He wouldn’t even meet your eyes and you loved it, although you had been the one to stop his previous advances it was almost as though you were at the mercies of your instinct, you wanted nothing more than to completely devour him. You took a deep breath in the futile attempt to gather your thoughts before speaking to him, he’d probably let you.

“Yunho I let your behavior slide twice before, but at this point, I’m beginning to think that you want to be scolded by me,” you stated while coking your eyebrow up. “No I don’t I’m sorry,” you heard him mumble towards the floor. Placing your hand on his cheek you felt the way his body shivered at your touch. “Puppy shouldn’t you look at me when I’m talking to you,” you whispered your face only a few inches from his. You could clearly see his lips quivering as you took in the strained features of his face.

“You’re right I’m sorry,” he whimpered, his fists clenched against his jeans. “And exactly what is my puppy sorry for?” you inquired, your lip twisted up in a slight smirk. It amused you; someone so much smaller than him, could have so much power over him, just the thought had you shivering in your seat.

“I’m sorry for attacking you and for not coming to see you,” he stated, his pleading eyes drowning in your own. “And what was the reason that my dear puppy couldn’t come see his owner?” you continued on loving the pure look of ecstasy on his face when you referred to yourself as his owner. His knuckles tightened as his body began to tremble, clearly holding itself back from the pleasure that was clearly bubbling inside of him. “I was sick,” he said in a hushed tone.

“Oh were you now?” you edged on, your pointer finger gliding across his adam’s apple. “Please,” he whimpered before he began to hunch forward in an attempt to ease the pressure building up at his crotch. “You say that you’re sorry but apparently that doesn’t apply to all of you,” you confessed before gently placing your foot on his crutch. The sound that he released was probably the most beautiful you’ve ever heard; it almost made you want to end your teasing, almost.

Removing your foot from his crutch you stare in awe at the thin thread of clear liquid which connected your toes to the ever-growing bulge in his pants. “For someone who is soo sorry you seem to be enjoying yourself quite a bit,” you stated as you wiggled your toes, almost playing in the precum coating them. From your seat above him, you could see him frantically shaking his head as he rocked in place on the floor beneath you. “Oh, so you’re not,” you inquired as you brought your face on the same level before you continued, “then maybe you should start answering me honestly? There is no need to be this stubborn with me”.

“I was in heat,” he replied; his head hung low as his ears began to redden. “So my puppy left me worried and alone cause you couldn’t keep it in his pants? Seeing the state that you’re in I can’t say that I’m surprised,” you replied, your eyes never once leaving his quivering body. Leaning back into your seat you took one final glance at him before speaking, “Take it off.” You could hear him release a sigh before reaching for his shirt. “No,” you interrupted him mid-action, “just your bottoms.” With crosswinds coming in so quickly Yunho was dressed in a caramel-colored knitted turtleneck and a pair of black jeans. You didn’t think that turtle necks could turn you on to this extent, just the thought of Yunho wearing turtle necks to hide the marks that you’ve left on his neck got a fire burning deep into your core.

You were so lost in your thoughts that the only thing pulling you away was the load, animalistic groan which escaped the hybrid’s lips as he slowly touched himself. His nimble fingers teasing the tip of his erect cock, urging it to release even more precum than it already was. The clear liquid flowed from the tip of his reddened cock down his hand, coating it in the perverse liquid. “I don’t remember telling you that you could touch yourself now did I puppy,” you stated watching as he briskly removed his hand from his aching cock; wincing as the cold breeze caressed it. “Do you want me to touch you?” you inquired. 

“I do,” he began; his breathing short and strained, “but I’ve been bad.” 

“That’s true but that doesn’t mean that my puppy doesn’t deserve to be cared for now does it?” you rhetorically asked.

Finally leaving your place on the couch you crept beside him, grasping his dick in your much smaller hand, your mouth watering at the sight.  Almost immediately you could feel Yunho bucking his hips upward, chasing his much-desired release with great intensity. Taking your free hand you gripped his hip harshly, your nails grazing along his side. Yunho moaned at the pain, his body shivering as his head dropped to rest on your shoulder. “Stay still for me okay baby,” you whispered, your breath tickling his ear. Continuing at a rather snow pace you ran your hand along Yunho’s engorged dick, tracing its veins with your fingers and watching as his entire body twitched in response. You could feel him leaving tentative kisses along your shoulder but you didn’t stop him this time, he was finally being good so he deserved a little treat. Right?

You tightened your grip as you continued to pleasure him, enjoying the sweet sounds of his moans in your ear; you could listen to it all day but that might actually break him and you couldn’t do that to your puppy. “Close, I’m close. Please can I come,” he begged into your shoulder as his hands caressed your sides ever so slightly; the searing heat radiating from his entire body paled in comparison the that of his pulsating dick. He looked as though he was ready to burst but resisting until you gave him the go-ahead trying with the utmost desperation to be good for you. Should you allow him to release or should you let that pressure build up inside of him just a little longer to see how long he could fight against his instinct? 

Your thought process was interrupted by your phone ringing on the couch cushion behind you, you weren’t all that interested to answer but you had an idea of who it might be so you decided to play with your puppy just a little longer. “Yunho could you grab my phone for me please,” you asked, your free hand caressing his back to get his attention. Looking at his face caused shivers to run through your spine; it was nothing like you’ve ever felt before, your body was screaming with pure ecstasy. His face was flushed pink and glistening with perspiration, his teary, yellow eyes were almost engulfed by his dilated pupils and only heavy breathing could be heard from his swollen lips. Yunho was always irresistible in your eyes but seeing him in this state; he looked absolutely delectable.

You had expected him to put up some sort of resistance but he didn’t, he simply stretched forward; groaning at the new angle in which you were holding his dick, and grabbed your phone. “Who’s calling?” you inquired, already having a decent idea of who it is. From the growl that escaped Yunho’s lips, you already knew that you were right but you still wanted to hear him say it. You didn’t say a word to him you simply stopped the movement of your hand and looked at him, your eyes boring into his in an attempt to deduce his next move. Was he really that against you talking to Mingi? Or was it just because of the timing of the call? “Mingi,” he whispered before handing me the phone. Taking it from his hand you could see Yunho attempt to fix his clothes. “Stay,” you simply said to him before answering the still ringing phone.

To be quite honest you weren’t really paying any mind to what Mingi was saying; your senses focused on the whimpering hybrid beside you. You had already begun caressing his dick once more while still being on the phone with Mingi, you didn’t mind too much if Mingi found out what you were doing but Yunho on the other hand tried his absolute best to keep his noises at bay. This continued on for a few more minutes as you tried your best to keep Mingi on the phone, testing how long Yunho could hold out. Quickening your pace on his ever-flowing dick you could see Yunho convolve as he clung unto you, his teeth threatening to tear through his lush lips. He was almost at his breaking point.

“Mingi could you just hold on please my friend is calling the apartment phone,” you lied, “oh no you don’t need to hang up it will only take a minute.” Placing your phone against your shoulder; but not really attempting to muffle any sound, you turned to Yunho, “Are you coming today or not?” you enquired in the best nonchalant voice you could muster up. To Mingi it would just seem as though you had a friend over but Yunho knew better, his needy pants and muffled whimpers understood all too well. Looking up at you he nodded his head frantically before burying his face into your shoulder once more in a desperate attempt to muffle his sounds. He couldn’t hold it in any longer, if he was asked to his entire body would have surely combusted right there and then.

“Okay then hurry up,” you replied before returning to your phone call. “Yeah I’m gonna watch a movie with a friend in a bit, you should come next-,” you continued your conversation until you felt a sharp pain on your neck causing you to yelp, followed by a splash of liquid landing on your hand. “Are you okay?” you heard Mingi ask. “Yeah I’m fine I just bumped my toe,” you explained with a slight laugh trying your best to calm your breathing. “Well that’s good then,” he continued, “but please be careful else you’ll make me worry.”

“You don’t need to though, I already have someone like that and he’ll be here soon so I should go,” you stated before saying your goodbyes. You could sense a slight opposition from Mingi on the phone but that didn’t bother you much cause you had someone else to worry about. You look one last look at the quivering hybrid who had collapsed on your living room floor before you stood up.

Rushing to the restroom you began filling the bathtub before retrieving a damp cloth and heading back to the exhausted hybrid in your living room. After cleaning up most of the mess you told Yunho that he needed to take a bath which resulted in him releasing a groan before attempting to get up. Standing beside him you watched as his legs shook releasing a small giggle at the sight. “Shut up,” he said with a slight pout on his lips. “I really did a number on you didn’t I,” you continued.

“Please stop talking,” he groaned as he slowly made his way to your restroom. “Are you going to make me?” you pushed on loving the personality gap that he was displaying. You loved how he went from a whimpering mess to the playful yet slightly defiant Yunho that he currently is. You felt his grip on your arm, pulling you closer to him until your bodies were connected. “Do you want me to?” he inquired, his golden eyes searching yours. “Huh?” was the only thing that could leave your mouth, unbelievable, even after all that you’ve just done to him he can still reduce you to a deer in the headlights that simplicity? “I’m yours,” he whispered just softly enough for you both to hear; like it was a precious secret only to be shared between you too, “I’d do anything you want me to. Whatever you want from me I’ll give it to you.”

[gyuluster]

one last present | (f)

“Soobin gifts you something unusual, but oddly perfect.”

oneshot | established relationship! au | 1.7k words

s u m m a r y : soobin has one last birthday present to spoil you with, and you certainly did not expect it.

w a r n i n g s : literally just fluff, so much fluff, soobin is best boyfriend, a little nerd information about animal disease but nothing too grim, a little kiss at the end ):

a u t h o r ‘ s  n o t e : hello hi this sounds all over the place but idc because it’s @soobmint birthday and this is tailored very much to her liking anyway happy birthday chae i love u so much <3

back to masterlist

“I’M NOT ACCEPTING ANOTHER PRESENT FROM YOU.”

The said boy furrowed his brows, bottom lip jutting out slightly at your words. Despite the image being extremely adorable, you refused to submit.

Choi Soobin had spoiled you enough.

“But, ____,” he began, getting up from the sofa the both of you were cozily settled upon. A few of the opened presents fell on the carpeted floor from his lap, and, letting out a noise, he instantly dropped to his knees, picking up the objects.

“No buts!” you exclaimed, crossing your arms. “You’ve gifted me half the shopping mall! You can’t expect me to accept more!”

The pout was more prominent with every word of refusal. “Honey,” he murmured, and the endearment had your heart skipping a beat. He propped the fallen presents atop the coffee table before you, standing up straighter once again. “I like buying you gifts. I mean, It’s your birthday after all.”

Indeed it was so. Of course you knew, but your boyfriend made sure that you never forgot — the excitement which radiated from him these past few weeks almost became unbearable, knowing he was planning all these lavish outings and presents, but you could not help but go along with his wishful preparation. His pure, unadulterated joy at wanting to make your birthday as special as possible truly touched your heart.

“And plus, after this one, there are no more.” 

When you answered him with a raised brow, quite unconvinced, he raised his fist into the air, a little finger erecting. “Pinky promise.”

“Pinky promise, huh?” You could not help a small smile escaping. “That serious?”

Nodding, he hovered the finger closer to you. “This present will be your absolute favourite.”

Looping your own pinky with his, he helped you off the sofa, making sure you didn’t drop any of the gifts around you. Then, wrapping the rest of his fingers around your hand, he led you out of his living room.

Taking a long journey into the hallways, you both turned to the kitchen, a vast marble sensation of countertops and island bars, courtesy of his parents’ wealth. Catching sight of the wall-length, transparent doors, Soobin held out his free hand, careful to be quiet as he opened the doors into the nature beyond.

The Choi’s garden was another world entirely — perhaps bigger than his house, a fine collection of all the fruit trees, bushes and flowers, scattered upon the lush grass, freshly trimmed this morning. You closed the door after you stepped into the cool evening air, the sun on its way to descent below the horizon.

“Where is this present, Soobin?” you asked him, curious as to why he steered you outside. He only answered with a knowing smile, converse quiet against the grass, hand on yours unwavering.

Your confusion only grew as, swiping past the trail of gran old oaks and birches, you ended up upon the small pond right at the end of your boyfriend’s garden. It shimmered with the golden light of the dying sun, a few crickets resonating around its edges. The little reservoir was your favourite place inside his domain, a lilting peace always exuding from the calm waters, lapping against the slight bank. 

However, as your eyes wandered, there was a new addition, settled beside the pond. “What is this?” you wondered out loud, gazing over the small, wooden structure, slightly bigger than a sandcastle. Its detail was incredibly intricate, a tall arc carved out in the front, a moving creature fidgeting at the edge. The roof was slanted, like that of a miniature cabin, and your previous interest had only heightened, tugging on the sleeve of Soobin’s white shirt.

“Stay here,” he said, letting go of your hand for a moment. Carefully stepping along the edges of the pond, he kneeled next to the wooden construction, leaning in as his hands slid inside the open doorway. You crept a step closer, craning your head forward to catch a glimpse, but when you saw your boyfriend murmuring sweet nothings to the unknown inside, you stopped.

That was when he brought his hands out, now very much occupied. 

A gasp escaped you at what was revealed.

Two small ducklings snuggled in the folds of Soobin’s hand, making soft quacking noises as his finger stroked each of their heads softly. Your face morphed into one of infinite tenderness as a smile curled instantly upon his lips at the reaction.

Slowly, as not to disturb the animals, he walked over to you, eyes never leaving their faded yellow coats. Only when he stepped before you he looked up, sharing some of his elation within your gaze.

“My last present,” he declared. Hovering his full hands closer to you, he added, “Here.”

You did not dare answer him, holding your hands out as, ever so gently, Soobin dipped the ducklings into your care. Their webbed feet clung onto your palms as they curled against you, welcoming your warmth. Your nerves had to be thanked for that, rising with each caress of their feathers against your skin. 

Your eyes lifted to the boy before you.

He was not wrong at all — this really was your favourite present. “How…” you got out, but of course he knew, of course he knew that you had wanted these creatures for so long. 

It wasn’t exactly a secret that you wanted ducks — it was certainly a bizarre first pet to have, but you always found these types of birds adorable. Whenever you and Soobin would walk through the parks in your city, you would rush to the waterworks within nature, and stare at the families of ducks for hours on end. Sometimes, the poor boy had to haul you out of the forests, but he always found his heart turning in on itself whenever he stole a glimpse of your excited smile.

So when he ended up in the animal shelter one day, weeks before tonight, in search of these animals, he saw these two baby ducklings, and instantly made sure to whisk them away within his pond, hiding them and their little cabin from your curious footsteps. 

Until this day. When now, they nearly slept with the gentle stillness you kept them in.

He could see it in your eyes. You were already in love with them.

“What…” you gulped, thumbs caressing their tiny heads. “What did you name them?”

Soobin’s hand crept up to his neck, scratching awkwardly. “You better not laugh.”

You narrowed your brows. “Why?”

He pointed at the left duckling. “So this one is Aristotle,” he began, awaiting your teasing, “And this one—” pointing to the right, “—is called Plato.”

There was a long silence before you burst into soft laughter. 

“Hey!” he exclaimed, locking his hands behind his back. “I told you not to laugh.”

“I’m sorry, baby!” you gasped out, grinning. “I didn’t realise one semester of Greek Philosophy could change you this way.”

“Stop!” he whined, stepping closer as he observed the slumbering ducklings. “I don’t know, I just really liked the ring of it, okay?”

“Awww, don’t worry, Soobs,” you reassured him, nudging his leg with your foot. “I like the names.”

It was his turn to give you the unconvinced raise of his brows. “I’d bring out my pinkie, but my hands are a bit occupied.”

Satisfied, he nodded, watching you tend to your living gift with your fingers. “There’s something a little wrong with them, ____.”

Smile fading, you glanced up at him. “What do you mean?”

He crossed his arms. “The lady at the shelter mentioned some time of...preen malfunction?” 

You knew exactly he was inferring to. “Malfunctioning preen glands?” Your fingers brushed against the base of the ducklings’ tails, feeling an odd texture around their feathers. “I researched this while I was looking for ducks as pets. It means that their feathers don’t dry properly, which can be really dangerous for them.”

“Oh my God,” he muttered. “I should have looked into it further!” He groaned, swiping away his hair from his line of sight. “How am I going to take care of them properly?”

Your stare upon him seemed to calm him down. “Soobin, it’s okay.” Gingerly, you patted their backs. “I know how to treat this.”

“I’m sorry for putting this responsibility on you, honey,” he mumbled, taking one final step to you before planting his hands on your shoulders. “I wanted you to have some ducklings, but seeing these sick ones just...it did something within me.

“I felt like I had to get them somewhere safe, ____. And the only safe haven I could think of was you.”

Your eyes widened, his touch all the more prevalent. Soobin noticed, cocking his head. “What are you looking at me like that for?” 

His hands crept up, sliding from your neck to hold your face in his slender fingers. “Do you not realise that I associate you with all the good things in the world?”

You swallowed a lump in your throat, refusing to let the sting of tears win over you. “There’s a reason I presented you with the ducklings, honey. If you’re so good to me, then little Plato and Aristotle will forever be loved.”

Oh, God. How could you fight the waterworks after that?

Raising upwards, you closed your eyes as you captured Soobin’s lips, insides singing at how he welcomed the touch. His fingertips stroked your cheeks as he leaned further into the kiss, moving against your mouth like a lovestruck fool, yearning for you and everything you represented. 

As the sun fully descended, you opened up slightly for him, the boy clinging onto your bottom lip till a soft moan escaped you, causing him to lose nearly all of his senses. He might have gone further, may have teased his tongue along the swell of your mouth, but he held back. 

If it weren’t for the creatures nestled in your hands, he would have dared, but he pulled back, breathing a little panted as his thumb caressed the apple of your cheeks. 

“Happy Birthday, ____,” he whispered, eyes swirling with lifelong affection.

“I love you, Soobin,” you replied, lips curving upwards.

Then you looked down at the slumbering ducklings, smile growing.

And I love you two, too.

[euovennia]

Make Yourself Comfortable - C.C Imagine

summary: in which carlisle returns home after a long day of work

pairing: fem!reader x carlisle

word count: 1,396

a/n: this is based off the song 'make yourself comfortable' by sarah vaughn so feel free to give it a listen while you read. also, i've been a bit stumped on what i should write exactly so feel free to send in any requests you have! thanks for reading!

song link:

With a deep sigh escaping past his pale pink lips, Carlisle set down the pen in his hand on the desk as he leaned back in his office chair. If it weren't for him already being dead, Carlisle knew he'd have no problem betting that he'd soon meet an untimely demise solely based on the copious amount of paperwork that had carelessly built up over the course of the past week.

The man loved his job, it was the light in a life that seemed to offer nothing but an endless road of darkness. While he typically wasn't one to cultivate a pessimistic attitude, his vampirism still managed to hinder the confidence and level-headedness he so often prided himself on. He was still grateful of course. Being a vampire brought on many perks such as super-speed, impeccable strength, and strikingly good looks, but he couldn't help but still feel down about his kind. He was quite literally a killing machine and he was all too aware of it, often getting into his own head about it despite Edward badgering him about the fact he had no say in the matter. Still, he felt like a monster. A cold, heartless monster.

It was in those moments of self-doubt and hatred that he was especially grateful for his heightened sense of compassion and self-control. It allowed him to not only maintain a steady flow of employment but also allowed him to thrive in one of the most unlikely environments. He was bestowed with arguably one of the most valuable gifts and he couldn't help but thank his lucky stars every night that he was able to give back to the world, even in such a small way. It made him feel better about himself and that's all he ever wanted; to not be the monster he had so easily made himself out to be.

Snapping back to reality, he was suddenly all too aware of the darkness that was creeping outside of his office window. Brows furrowed, he looked to the clock on the wall.

1:53 AM

He pressed his lips into a thin line as he turned his attention down to the paperwork that sat on his desk staring back at him mockingly. He sat idle momentarily before shaking his head and standing up. He hastily packed his belongings into his bag, making sure to even slide a few patient files for further studying while off the clock before turning off the lights and heading out of his office ready to make the journey home.

___

Once pulled into the driveway, he gathered his belongings before exiting the car and shutting the door behind him. He took a quick glance around, his eyes quickly catching onto the absence of his children's vehicles. He raised a brow but opted to ignore the absence, regardless of how uncharacteristic it was.

Perhaps they went for an impromptu trip.

Locking the car door behind him, he began walking up to his front door before swinging the door open. Eyes widened, he looked around the dimly lit house as his ears immediately picked up on the sweet melody flowing through the air. Slowly, he stepped into the house as he dropped his belongings by the door entrance. He quietly shut the door behind him as he continued his walk toward the source of the music as it continued playing.

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable

Mmm mmm make yourself comfortable, baby

___

Reaching the kitchen entrance, his gaze softened as it fell onto his gorgeous wife and mate who was swaying around in the kitchen to the beat of the song. He watched as her eyes snapped opened and she turned to look back at Carlisle. A smile came over her face as she spoke, "I was beginning to think you were going to pull an all-nighter. You're usually home much earlier."

"I just lost track of time. It's been stressful lately, a lot more new patients have been coming." A small frown decorated her face but was quickly wiped away as she began to walk toward him before stopping when she was directly in front of him.

"Well, I'm glad you made it home to me."

At her soft admission, his hands enveloped hers as he pulled her closer to him.

"I am too. I must ask though, what's with all the lighting and music?"

A sheepish smile overcame her face as she pulled away slightly.

I got some records here to put you in the mood

The phone is off the so no one can contrude

I feel romantic and the records change is all demanded, baby

Sweetheart we hurry through our dinner, hurry through the dance

Left before the picture show was through

"I was anticipating you being home much earlier so I kicked the kids out a while ago. I know you've been feeling a bit stressed lately so I wanted you to come home to something nice. Music, food, maybe even a dance. You seem tired though so I can leave it. Maybe another day."

Carlisle's gaze filled with love as he stared down at the woman before him. His eyes trailed over her features as his hands found themselves securely wrapped around her waist.

"So this is all for me?"

She nodded silently, "All for you."

He took in a breath of air, his nose immediately catching onto the delightful smell of cougar blood; their favorite.

He lovingly pressed a tender kiss to the temple of her head before he walked over to the counter where the blood sat in wine glasses, a running gag present in the family. He picked up both of the glasses and turned back to where she originally stood only to find her gone and now standing directly in front of him. She swiftly took one of the glasses from his hand with a small smile present on her face.

"I didn't think you'd still be willing to have any, especially so late. I was just getting ready to put it away."

He smiled down at her as he clinked his glass with hers, "It seems I got here just in time then."

She intertwined their free hands before drinking from her glass with Carlisle following suit. They stood there silently for a few moments, sipping from their wine glasses as they took their time embracing the company of each other, something that appeared to be a rare occurrence nowadays.

Why did we hurry through the dinner, hurry through the dance

To leave sometime for this. To hug, hug and kiss and kiss, now

Take off your shoes in here and loosen up your tie

I got some kisses here, lets try one on for size

I'll turn the lights low while you make yourself comfortable, baby

Finishing off her glass, she set it back down on the counter as she craned her neck back to look up at her mate as she observed him. With a gentle touch, she grabbed the nearly empty glass from him and set it down on the counter next to hers before her hands moved down to his tie. She loosened the seemingly flawless knot before managing to tug it off his neck. She then draped it around her own neck before looking down at his dress shoes. She shook her head as she spoke, "You should really take those off. I just cleaned today."

Letting out a small chuckle, he obliged as he slipped out of his shoes and kicked them over to the side without a care in the world.

Once abandoned, her hands grabbed his before setting them into her waist. She then snaked hers up to his neck as she pulled his body closer to hers. Together, they began to absentmindedly sway to the music that played in the background, a perfect tune of love and admiration that filled both the home atmosphere and the hearts of the two lovers.

Make yourself comfortable baby

[olderthanthemorning]

gold rush (bill weasley) part 1

pairing: bill weasley x reader

summary: “everybody wonders what it would be like to love you.” bill weasley is a golden boy, but i don’t like a gold rush. (based on the song “gold rush” by taylor swift)

wc: 3.1k

warnings: none, someone walking in on someone else but nothing dirty, swearing

a/n: hello! so i didn’t mean for this to be so long lol but anyway, there will be more. once again, a song has inspired me to write. i feel like gold rush totally describes bill and so i tried to run with that. as always, i would love comments/feedback. also if you like it please reblog/follow! i want to start taking requests!

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

what a cliche it would be to be hopelessly in love with bill weasley. the charming gryffindor was the poster child of his house, his year, and his family. don't get it twisted, it wasn't that he didn't deserve all the praise; he was kind to younger students, witty in his classes, and bloody brilliant in your shared defense against the dark arts class. you just found it a little funny that everyone he met instantly fell in love with him. how could you take someone like that seriously?

"so you really don't think he's cute?" your friend, rose, asked you as you entered the great hall, the smell of fresh bread and pumpkin juice temporarily distracting you.

"no, that's actually not what i said. he's quite fit, it's just think people make too much of a big deal about it. sometimes i think you'll wet yourself when he looks at you in the corridor." you threw yourself down at your table and started reaching for the pile of sandwiches in the middle of the table. if you two wanted to make it to the beginning of the gryffindor vs ravenclaw game, this would have to be a quick lunch.

"well it's not everyday you see an arse like that in the corridor!" rose says. taken aback by her forward statement, you shove her shoulder, "gross, rose." after a few more minutes of conversation and inappropriate comments from rose, you down the last of your juice and pull your companion off the bench and toward the door.

you could hear cheers long before you were close to the game. after finding a spot with your house, you saw madam hooch release the snitch and the players shoot up to start following the quaffel. a flash of red hair passes in front of the stands as another weasley, charlie, flies at lightning speed.

The game was action packed, but not short. your cold muscles ached a bit as you moved them to walk into your dorm and sit on your bed. as if reading your mind, your roommates crowd into the bathroom to start the showers. you groan, knowing that at this rate, it'll be an hour before you can warm yourself with hot water. then a thought crosses your mind. the prefect bathrooms. your sister had been a prefect years before and had told you where they were, something you were silently thanking her for now. you gathered your towel and robe and slipped out of the room before anyone could ask where you were going.

The prefect bathroom was large and dimly lit, something that made it seem even colder when you walked in. on the far wall there was a myriad of knobs, all leading into a large bath that looked like it could hold your entire upper level herbology class. throwing down your stuff on a nearby bench, you rush to turn all the knobs you can, as blue, and green, and sparkling gold liquids splash into the basin along with steaming water. you slid out of your cold clothes and into the tub, hissing at the difference in temperature between your skin and the water. the water was heavenly and you sunk in until your shoulders were under the water, pulling your hair up from the nape of your neck so not to wet it. the room had filled with the scent of lavender and honeysuckle, and you closed your eyes to take it in.

suddenly there was a creak that you immediately recognized as the door opening. 'fuck, fuck, fuck,' you thought. you could chance jumping out and hoping the person didn't see you naked or you could wait to get caught. you decided that your clothes were too far, and started frantically ushering as many bubbles to you as possible, trying to cover your body. you turn your back to the entrance just as you see the shadow of someone begin to round the corner.

"oh, shit, i'm sorry i didn't realize someone was in here." you wanted to curl up into a human ball of embarrassment. not only did the voice belong to a boy, but you knew exactly which boy it belonged to, and it rhymed with will beasley. unsure of how to respond, you just let out a nervous laugh, not wanting to let your voice give you away as someone who was definitely not a prefect.

"okay, well... i'll just come back later." you waited until you could no longer hear footsteps to climb out of the tub. once dry and wrapped in your fluffy robe, you reentered the hallway, but only after sticking your head out to make sure bill wasn't waiting by the door. as you walked back to your dorm, you could only begin to imagine all the teasing rose would give you when she found out he had seen you in the bath. luckily, by the time you cocooned yourself in your comforter, she was already asleep. you would have to tell her in the morning, or maybe you wouldn't.

**

by breakfast the three days later, the bath incident had left your mind. after the first 24 hours, you felt sure bill hadn't suspected anything, and even if he did, there was no way he could tell who the student in the bath was. you had to pause with the spoon of porridge halfway between your bowl and your mouth, because rose's impression of flitwick had made you burst into laughter. an owl fluttered down in front of you, dropping an envelope with your mother's handwriting on the front. you ripped it open and began to read.

"Dear y/n,

Hello love, I hope you're doing well with all of your classes this term. I'm writing to tell you that we'll be spending part of the Easter holiday with one of my friends and her family. Her name is Molly and she has two sons at hogwarts. Be sure to say hello to them, Molly says they're nice boys. The three of you can leave school together to travel home for break. I miss you dearly and can't wait to hear about your term in person.

love always,

mum"

rose put her chin on my shoulder to read the letter. "i didn't know your mum was friends with the weasley's," she giggled, obviously thinking about bill. "yeah, well that makes two of us." to be honest, you never really realized your mum had close friends. there was no reason for her not to, it had just never occurred to you that your parents were people outside of being your parents.

"actually, it makes four of us," you whipped around to see bill and charlie, a letter you assumed was similar to yours grasped in bill's hand. "my mum wrote they met here as kids and ran into each other a few weeks ago in diagon alley." his easy smile was attractive and his hair fell effortlessly into place, with one soft strand too short to be pushed behind his ear. it looked almost like someone had written it in, it was so perfectly placed.

"wicked," escaped rose's lips as a strained whisper. you elbowed her, praying that she would come to her senses and start acting like a real person.

"listen, i got to run to practice, but let's meet in the main entrance tomorrow morning, yeah? 10am?" charlie butt in, reaching around his brother to grab a banana off your table and without waiting for even a nod, turned to catch up with the rest of his team at the other end of hall.

"sorry about him, he's..." bill was suddenly looking down at you with a slightly funny expression, a small grin on his face.

"preoccupied?" you finish his sentence, marking the first words you've said since he approached you.

"yeah," then, he leans down close enough that only you can hear him when he says, "next time you go for a soak, i suggest trying the orange blossom bubbles," maintaining eye contact with you the whole time.

taken aback, you feel yourself get blush and lean back, your brow furrowed, "what? how did you-"

"i didn't realize you were so interested in astronomy, y/n," he says a little louder, standing back to his tall figure and casually tapping the back of his neck.

you mimic his motion and remember the small tattoo of a moon that sat at where your neck met your shoulders. you close your eyes and cover them with one hand. maybe if you shut your eyes hard enough and clicked your heals he would disappear. or even better, you would. "i'll see you tomorrow," he sent another cheeky smile and turned to walk away, hands in his pocket, laughing quietly to himself.

"um... what the fuck," rose spoke, making you realize you were still watching his back. "what was that about? how does he know about your tattoo?"

"he might've walked in on my while i was bathing a few days ago," you said, bracing yourself for the inevitable.

"WHAT?!" it was even louder than you expected. honestly, you loved rose but bringing attention to herself, and by proxy, you, was something she had a knack for, but not in an endearing way.

"would you calm down please? everyone was taking too long in the showers so i went to the prefects' bathroom and he came in. he only saw my back so i didn't think he knew who it was, but i forgot to account for moony back there," you rolled your eyes, how could you forget about something that you had chosen to put on your body forever?

"merlin, that's so not fair, do you know what i would give to be seen naked by bill weasley?" once again, you were slightly horrified by a comment made by your best friend. this is what you didn't understand about everyone's fascination surrounding bill. even as he walked away, you had noticed a handful of other students following him with their eyes. it was a fact that bill was attractive, beautiful even, but the way people would do anything for his attention freaked you out. being treated like that had to go to someone's head eventually.

"okay, that's enough of that. i'm just glad he didn't give me detention or something," you went back to your breakfast, although you were no longer very hungry.

**

the journey to the weasley's cottage by the sea was uneventful. in the morning, you boarded the hogwarts express with charlie and bill. you didn't speak much, but read a book in your shared compartment while charlie talked to bill non-stop about the latest quidditch techniques. "and i've been reading about dragons, and how they fly, and i think it would be really cool to try some of their flying patterns on a broom. it would be really hard and i'd have to make a few adjustments, because obviously i'm not a huge majestic creature, but if it worked, it'd be brilliant!" you looked up to see charlie on the edge of his seat, trying to mark some of the flying patterns, and looking intently at bill, as if waiting for him to be just as excited. "that sounds great, charlie, really. how did you start on about dragons?" bill quickly caught your eye and tried to share some of the amusement his brother brought him. "hagrid gave me a book, they're really something, bill."

your party gets off at king's cross, and you followed the older boy through the station, until he stops in front of a women's toilet. "uh, i think the men's is over there," you said pointing behind you. charlie laughed. "hah," bill faked a monotone laugh, "there's a portkey inside that will take us to shell cottage. dad said it was a," he looked down at a paper in his hand, "toilet brush. lovely. right, we have three minutes until it leaves. ladies first." he gestured and you entered the room. it was somewhat cramped with the three of you and your trunks, but in the corner was a white, and thankfully clean looking, toilet brush. you grabbed it and held it out for the others to hold on too. after about 10 seconds of waiting, you felt your body being pulled up and then like you had just jumped off a high diving board at a pool. falling, but strangely still feeling like you were upright. before long, your feet hit solid ground again, well somewhat solid ground. the sand made your landing shaky, as it moved under your weight. you looked up and saw a cozy house with warm light glowing from the windows.

after lots of introductions and even more hugs, you finally settled yourself in to a guest room. the view was beautiful. the sun was just starting to set over the sea, the orange hues reflecting off the vast water. putting away the last of your things, you walked down the stairs and announced to your mum and molly that you would be going on a walk. they nodded and made you promise to be back for dinner before returning to their conversation. as soon as you got to the beach, you slipped off your shoes and feel the cool sand swallow each of your toes. it was crisp, but not too cold. you walk for a bit and then sit down on a dune, just taking in the picture the world had created for you.

you see a figure walking toward you and, as it gets closer, you notice it's bill. "mind if i join you?" he asked.

"of course not," you watched him as he sat. "it's beautiful here, your family has a really lovely house."

"thanks, mum has a talent for making any place feel like home." he looked out at the water, but for some reason you kept looking at his face, trying to find details. bill felt your gaze and his eyes met yours. normally, you would've looked away, but a new confidence allowed me to hold his eye contact. "so, tell me more about your tattoo." you chuckled, you should've known it would come up at some point or another.

"i got it with rose on holiday using fake muggle IDs," you explained.

"any special meaning behind it?" he asked, his eyes were now flickering from yours to your neck.

"nope, just liked the art," it was true, you knew you wanted to get a tattoo but didn't want something that held too much weight, so you got something that was simply beautiful.

"that's cool," he said, reaching to touch it with his index finger, "did it hurt?" you shivered at the contact and he pulled away, "sorry."

"no, that's okay," you said turning slightly away from him so he could see it better and indicating that he could touch it. he went back to tracing it with his finger, leaning in to get a closer look. "it didn't hurt as much as i thought it would. but now that you've seen it, it's only fair that you tell me if you have any secret tattoos."

you heard him laugh, "obviously, i've just got the gryffindor lion across my chest, nothing crazy," he joked. you smiled and turned back to him.

"seems very fitting for you."

"oh yeah?"

"charismatic prefect, brave older brother, top of our DADA class? if you were any more gryffindor-y you'd be called godrick," you poked fun at him and leaned back to lay down.

"merlin, you make me sound unbearable."

"well–" you start to trail off only to feel a foot hit your knee, just hard enough to show playful anger. "alright, alright, kidding!"

"do you know what you want to do after school?" he asked, also lowering himself to the ground, but staying propped up on one elbow, his body turned to you.

"not exactly, i really like herbology and history of magic, so maybe find a job where i can study how wizards lived in the past? like how they used plants and stuff" it was something you had thought a lot about, but hadn't really found an answer that fit well.

"you'd be great at that." you shot him a skeptical look. "what? it's not hard to notice you're brilliant in herbology. sprout has you practically teaching half the lessons." you felt a blush spread across your cheeks, and felt thankful that the sunlight was starting to dim. you hadn't even realized you two shared that class, you were always more occupied in the nearest plant.

"what about you?"

"something to do with defense against the dark arts, mcgonagall told me about a career in curse breaking that sounds good. i think it'd allow me to travel, which is a plus."

"that sounds amazing," you say, your mind whisking you away to all the places you wanted to see.

"you can come and visit me, wherever i am." bill chuckled, letting another heart-breaker grin fall into place on his lips.

"and what makes you think we'll keep in touch after we leave hogwarts?" the tone turning back to a lighter banter. you push yourself up onto your elbows

"well, for one thing, our mums. but i also just have a feeling." you're betrayed by your cheeks heating up again. you look into his eyes and find sincerity. they're a deep blue, almost like they've been taken from the nearby water. once again you're reminded of his handsomeness, but this time it's a little different. maybe it's because you've talked more and he's shown you the things he's taken time to notice in you. but his beauty feels warmer. like it was only for you, like it could engulf you. you can see he's started to move closer, and you start to mirror his actions. your eyes move from his to his lips and the light stubble that runs along his jaw, and back again to his eyes. "can i...?" you close your eyes and start to nod, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours, until, "kids! dinner!" and just like that, the moment is ruined. the two of you open your eyes and put space between yourselves. you clear your throat and stand up, brushing sand off of your legs.

"we should get back," you say.

"uh, yeah, totally." he says, also standing and following you back to the house.

on the walk back, you make sure to stay a few steps ahead of bill to allow yourself some time to think. what had just happened? did you like bill? surely it was just a weird moment following a minor existential crisis about the future right? you should just forget about it and try to focus on spending time with you family the rest of the trip.

[jaeminzie]

helping hand | l.jn

↳ lee jeno x gender neutral!reader

synopsis: being a transfer student in hogwarts, you felt the need to prove yourself and live up to the rumors of you being the best seeker in your previous school. though, in hogwarts, you had the lee jeno to compete against with. thankfully, he didn’t see you as a rival.

genre: fluff

word count: 1,959

part of ‘the dreamies in hogwarts’ series

everyone in hogwarts hears the name ‘lee jeno’ so frequently that it’s as if he’s professor snape who every student gossip over and try to keep an eye on. though unlike the notorious professor, the person who possesses the name ‘lee jeno’ has a pile of students from each of the different houses trying to score a date with him like how he scores the golden snitch every single quidditch match that he’s played. jeno — the sixth year hufflepuff who has struck everyone (even the professors) with his perfect manners, annoyingly good looks, and even more infuriatingly amazing abilities in everything he participates in. one of the many natural talents the boy has is making the people around him seem inferior.

being a new transfer student from ilvermorny school of witchcraft and wizardry, you weren’t aware of the man’s skill at first. heck, even if you did, that wouldn’t make you second guess joining your house’s team — slytherin which is the equivalent to your old house in ilvermorny, thunderbird. it only took a couple days for you to know random facts about the hufflepuff after constantly hearing about him in classes, the loo, the great hall, and even in the slytherin common room. still, you didn’t feel threatened since you were confident in your abilities, hogwarts was already starting to feel like a home to you. you navigate through the halls like you know every crevice of the campus. for some, it’s hard to believe that it’s only your first year in hogwarts since your name is the second most frequently talked about around campus.

everyone knew you of course, they were all curious on how wizarding school was like in the states. everyone, including jeno. although he heard many rumors about you being the best seeker in your old school, just like you, jeno didn’t feel threatened one bit, though, for different reasons. unlike everyone else, he honestly didn’t care about winning. he played for the fun of it, not for winning a piece of metal that’ll be eventually left for the dust. you, on the other hand, believe that the joy of playing quidditch is winning and you assumed every athlete thought the same.

the first game of the season is today and you have been practicing after school each day for the past three weeks. and never once, have you seen jeno practice in his own leisure time. the only times you did see him was during his weekly team practices that only lasted an hour and a half maximum. he must be that confident, huh? you were ready to teach him.

“we’re going out in three.” your captain yelled out in your little shared tent.

you straighten your green robe and flew out with your team on your broomsticks, forming a straight line. you flew in the air with a perfect posture and chin titled up, but not too high or that’d be trying too hard. your team halted when you all reached the middle of the field and met face to face with your opposing team dressed in yellow.

you and jeno floated directly across from each other and you slightly grimace at the smile he shot at you. a person with a functioning pair of eyes can recognize that jeno is indeed a handsome man with amazing body proportions, yet you would never admit it out loud. you are sure not to feed his ego further when he already has a crowd praising his every action each millisecond.

unaware of your opinions on him, jeno keeps the smile on his lips and eyes for you to see, hoping that you’ll reciprocate. before you could do so, you got into starting position with your full attention on the shaking case placed on the grass below your hovering bodies that held the golden snitch inside.

madam hooch opens the case and the snitch shoots up, flying around your heads in a mocking manner. everyone’s diverts their attention to the commentor in the stands, waiting for them to say the words as madam hooch throws the quaffle straight up into the air.

“the quaffle is released, and the game begins!”

everyone’s robes instantly flapped in the wind as people rushed to acquire the balls. you repeatedly hear the commentor yelling out various numbers as points for team hufflepuff which fueled you even more so.

everything and everyone surrounding your floating figure became a blur the second you get a glimpse of a tiny golden shine from afar. immediately, you fastened your pace to the ball.

jeno was amazed at how determined you are in catching the snitch, he followed suit right behind you, making you to see a hint of yellow at the corner of your eyes.

after many sharp turns and circles, you finally manage to catch up to the snitch, only having a finger length distance between you and the object while jeno seems to be too close by your side.

“lee jeno and y/l/n y/f/n are head to head!” the cheers and booing boomed louder. “who will be able to catch the snitch for their team!” all you heard were various yelled responses clashed together, almost making both your ears ring.

if you could just lean in a tiny bit more, you’d bring your house to victory. you scoot closer and closer to the tip of your broom in order to get be in reach with the shiny object. finally, you felt the cold metal brush your fingertips and it slinked into your palms. along with the feeling of coldness in your hand, you feel your entire body running cold as you plummeted down when you got too carried away with acquiring the snitch, causing you to lose balance on the tip of your broom.

“y/l/n has fallen from their broom!” there is a collective noise of the audience standing up from the benches and their gasps.

you look up to see your broomstick still floating in place, cursing at it and wishing you had upgraded the stick before transferring schools. what you can also see is jeno making his way towards you, seeming to get closer and closer every second as he went at a inhuman speed. instinctively, your grip on the snitch became tighter. his hair pulled back due to the power of the wind and his eyes wide open in panic as he approached you faster.

you look over your shoulder and realize how near the grass is, making you shut your eyes closed and hold the snitch to your chest since that is truly the only thing that mattered in your mind.

jeno inches closer to your falling body, forcing all his power to accelerate faster. he could feel his veins nearly popping from all the pressure and the wind, but he didn’t stop until he felt you secure in his arms.

everyone goes silent. “lee has caught y/l/n!” cheers erupt. you hesitantly opened your eyes as you could hear people ‘aww-ing’ and some praising jeno for the kind act toward his own opponent, only to make direct eye contact with the boy instantly. this is the first time you guys aren’t at a few feet distance from one another. previously, jeno would only be able to see you from afar, he didn’t get to see the marks and dots that splattered randomly on your cheeks, forehead, chin, and neck. nor was he able to see how adorably quick you are to get red whenever he’d step into the same room as you prior to this moment — you weren’t completely sure if it was out of frustration or timidness due to his overbearing presence — jeno made himself believe that it was out of coyness, that he was affecting you like this.

“you okay?” his arms are still holding you up bridal style. with his naturally moon crescent shaped eyes boring into yours, all you were able to do was nod into submission. now finally recognizing the reason why students and professors have only good words to say about the boy after he had just saved you from critical pain despite not been given the best treatment from you. surely, if it were you in jeno’s position, you would’ve sat there and enjoyed the show of your opponent falling to their doom. or the only reason you would go after him is the snitch in his hands. but he caught you and isn’t putting any effort in trying to get the ball from you.

you mumbled a ‘thank you.’ then you begin to feel the stiff wings attached to the golden snitch in your hands that you had shortly forgotten flickering against your palm. immediately, you get off jeno’s arms and placed each of your legs on both sides of his sturdy broom, facing his body and getting a better angle of his face. though, you are convinced that there isn’t any angle he didn’t look good in.

you shake away your thoughts and raised your hand up proudly with your back shot straight and the biggest smirk.

“y/n has gotten the snitch!” loud roars erupted from your house’s tower. “150 points to slytherin!” the smirk laid on your face turn into a smile which later turned into fits of laughter. you admired how your house cheered for you, almost too invested to catch the boy sitting in front of you staring shamelessly at you.

feeling as confident as ever, you joked, “enjoying the view?”

“actually, yeah. very much so.” you smirk at the smiling boy’s response. something about his smile right now was different from the previous pure ones he’s given you, he seems hungry. “the rumors were true, i’m impressed.”

you take off your gloves and clap your hands to dust them off, then shoving your gloves into the pocket of your robe. jeno maintained the eye contact. “yeah, you could put some more work, though.”

the boy dropped his head and shook it as he chuckled, tongue poking the inside on his right cheek. “maybe i could use some lessons.”

you quirk an eyebrow and hummed, waiting for him to continue. “possibly lessons from the best seeker in hogwarts, y/n.”

“so you admit that i’m the best?”

his lips turned up. “only if you agree to teach me and spend some time with me to build a bond, you know, so when we play, it’ll be easier-“

“we aren’t even in the same team.” your hands rested on your thighs and tilted your head while his hands came up to ruffle his own hair and waver them around as he tried to explain.

“well, it’s still nice to hav-“

you shake your head at his great reasoning. “deal but buy me a new broomstick.” jeno’s face relaxed and nodded firmly, his hands copied yours and found place on his thighs. he began to lower both of you down toward the grass without either of you speaking a word, just staring and smiling slightly.

you both hop of his broom, never leaving your sight on each other. you spoke first, “we practice everyday after school. we start on monday, don’t be late and don’t make me regret saying yes.” you point a finger at him and look him up and down to get a mental image of the boy’s figure for your own pleasure before walking away.

jeno took note of your last sentence as he stood there bashfully. now that you couldn’t see his face, he could let out the breath he’s been holding and his face heating — and for the first time, he wishes for monday to come sooner. smiling to yourself as you strutted back to your tent, you already knew you wouldn’t regret a single thing with lee jeno.

[mega-ultra-so-awesome-it-hurts]

Replaced... for the Better

A/N: OKAY LOVES I DID IT! HERE IT IS! I KNOW IT’S TWO MILLION YEARS LATE BUT HERE!  

Pairing: Paul Lahote x black!reader x Jasper Hale

Genre: Angst

Warnings: Heavy angst, sort of cheating. 

Requested: No, but pleeeease request. I’m booored

Word count: 1106 (eep SORRY it’s so short! I was in a mood when I wrote out the rought draft hehe)

Summary: You find out you’re not the only one Paul imprinted on. But how will you take it? There MIGHT be a part 2, if enough people want it.

(GIF’s are not mine. Credit to owners!)

You weren’t the most beautiful woman in the world, and you knew it. But Paul still loved you. You knew he did. Or, you thought he did. Allow me to set the scene:

 It was August, 2008. Slightly chilly outside, so it was cold inside, too. You were cooking dinner for the boys. You heard the door open, and you felt a cool Autumn breeze flow through your burnt orange sweater.

 “Angel?” You smiled. It was Paul, your fiance. But... you thought you heard another person with him. One of the pack, maybe? 

 “Kitchen, baby! C’mere, I want you to taste this gumbo I’m makin’!” You were from New Orleans, and you were always cookin’ up soul food for your boys. A lot of times, you’d try some new food that you weren’t familiar with, but they’d all turn out wonderful. You and Emily were the best cooks on the reservation, that was for sure. The Pack thought y’all were the best cooks in Forks, but that was a bit cocky, and cocky wasn’t really your thing. 

 Paul’s footsteps stalled in the hallway, and you could hear the faintest of whispers. You rolled your eyes, knowing how much Paul and Jared loved to sneak up behind you and steal tastes of whatever you were cookin’. 

 “Come on in, boys! I’ll let you have a taste, too, Jared!” You assured the other Quileute boy you were sure accompanied your man.

 “Uh... Y/N, I’m not with Jared...” Paul’s voice sounded hesitant, and you knew instantly something was wrong. He never ever called you by your name. He must’ve done somethin’ stupid again, you figured.

 “What’d you do now, Paul?” Your voice held a hint of amusement, but it was mostly tired. You’d been on your feet all day, and now Paul was being all suspicious, so you were not going to get to rest any time soon. Well, you were more right about that than you had thought. 

“Um, Y/N, can you come into the living room?” You put down the sharp kitchen knife that Emily gave you for your 18th birthday last month, which you were using to dice the carrots. Slowly, you turned the stove flame down, making sure the gumbo wouldn’t burn. Then, ever so slightly, you peeked your head into the living room. With Paul was another man. Pale, pale thing, honeyed hair, and golden eyes. You relaxed a bit. The Cullens came over from time to time, so you were familiar with the blonde doctor and his family. You smiled, walking over to be a good hostess and welcome him, when you noticed a minor detail you hadn’t seen before.

They were holding hands.

You stopped in your tracks, your smile faltering. Paul let go of the blond Cullen boy’s, (was his name Jasper?) hand, moving closer to you.

“Angel,” Paul began, walking towards you. “This is Jasper.” So you were right. “He’s my other imprint.” You dropped to the floor in shock, legs bent to the left, hands supporting your upper half to your right. 

“Y/N?” Paul knelt beside you, his brows furrowed in concern. You shook off his hand.

“When?” You inquired, eyes still trained on the ground before you.

“Y/N-”

“When??” You questioned once more. Paul flinched slightly, then closed his eyes.

“The battle with the newborns.” Your breath caught. That was only 3 months after you and he had met. Only two weeks after you and Paul had first kissed. You had forgotten to breathe, and now your lungs burned for air. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Forcing a smile onto your features, you got to your feet. 

“Hello,” Jasper said, nodding slightly. You softened a bit. You could tell he was nervous. 

“Hi, honey. It’s wonderful to meet you.” You offered one of your better, more sincere smiles. 

“You as well, ma’am.” Jasper stuck his hand out for you to shake.  You shook your head, pushing it away.

“Now, now, sweetie. None of that.” You opened your arms, stepping forward.

“I’m a hugger, shugs.” He opened his arms as well, and you both shared a sweet - albeit awkward - embrace.

“Come on,” you said, pulling away. 

“I’m makin’ some gumbo, and I need you to mince the celery.” You took his cold hand in yours and led him into the kitchen. You gave him a stalk of celery and handed him a knife, telling him to get to work.

And then, it was like you had both known each other forever. Because it had to be. You didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, and you definitely didn’t want to discourage Paul from happiness. So you laughed and smiled ‘till it hurt, locking your true feelings away in an iron safe so deep down, it was lost to even you.

Eventually, Jasper went home, and you stayed happy. For the rest of the day, you were all smiles, so bubbly it should’ve been suspicious. But nobody asked. Maybe they simply didn’t notice. Or maybe, just maybe, nobody cared.

                                                    _ _ _

Late that night, you and Paul were set up on the bed you both shared. You had your body resting against Paul’s chest, your lap housing a red bowl halfway filled with popcorn. You and Paul were watching a movie. It was one of the sappy romances that Paul couldn’t stand, but you loved them, and he loved you. Didn’t he? You were playing with Paul’s fingers when he asked you,

“You sure you’re okay with it?” He didn’t have to say what he meant. You knew. You put on your best act, looked up into Paul’s face, and you lied to him.

“Absolutely. Jas - He’s family now.” You couldn’t bring yourself to say his name. You hoped Paul didn’t notice. Paul’s expression changed, happy now. He pressed a kiss to your forehead, resting his chin on your head.

“You have no idea what that means to me, Angel. Thank you,” he whispered. You said nothing, not wanting to say anything else you couldn’t take back. You both went back to watching the movie. You were no longer playing with your man’s fingers, your hands now resting on either side of the popcorn bowl. Neither of you said another word. 

Once the movie was over, you tied up your hair, laying next to Paul for the night. You waited for Paul’s breathing to even out, then changed into some decent runners clothes. You packed a duffel, and then, slipping a note into the side of the bed that you usually slept on, you left, without uttering so much as a goodbye.

A/N: I know it’s late, but it’s FINALLY done lmao. I had it written out weeks ago on paper, but between studying for midterms and failing biology, I haven’t really had time to update. Now, this wasn’t the ending I ORIGINALLY planned to go with, but i’m a bitch so I decided to change it. Part 2 MIGHT include more of the Cullen fam, and there MIGHT be a slight shift in gravity MUAHAHAHA. I have many things planned for the dear reader... so follow my account (or ask to be added to my taglist) for P2 when it comes!! SOrry for the title... my brain is spent and y’all probs won’t even see any MENTIONS of a P2 until March hahaha. But anyway hope y’all enjoyed this!

[writingsbychlo]

smoke and fire (01)

word count; 6959

summary; after making a somewhat reckless decision in the heat of the moment, newt gives you some harsh truths, and some good advice.

notes; this first part isn’t all that exciting, admittedly, but these first few parts set a grounding for the rest, so you just have to rock with it.

warnings; reference to injury, building fire, reference to dementia.

Stepping into the main room, you glanced around, catching the eye of your friend and colleague, the blond who was waving at you from the tall counter. His foot was propped up on one of the taller stools, a plate of pancakes in front of him as he held a pen between his teeth, the newspaper out before him. 

Striding across the room towards him, the fireman you’d come to know as ‘Fry’ due to desperate love for cooking when he wasn’t on a call was grinning, flipping a couple more pancakes over the stove, and he reached for another plate, placing it in front of the Empty seat. Lifting his foot down, Newt left the seat available to you, and despite the chatter in the room, you could still hear his excited ‘hello’, even if it was spoken around the pen in his mouth, which promptly dropped, and he fumbled to catch it. 

“You’re chipper this morning?”

“I got here before Brenda, which means I get the puzzles in the paper.” He waved the paper at you, before putting his pen down on it and picking up his fork, not bothering with the knife as he tore off an extra piece of the pancake, syrup dripping from it as he lifted it to his mouth, a drip falling down his chin. “She always does the crossword before I can get there, and she messes it up by putting the wrong words in and quitting halfway through. Not today, though.”

“Close your mouth, you’re so gross!”

He made an extra loud smacking sound as he ate, leaning in as he chewed with his mouth open, and you cringed, laughing as you leaned away, the hot breath with a sickly-sweet undertone washing over your face. The plate before you was piled with three pancakes of your own, a bottle of syrup being passed over to you, and you turned to Fry, flashing him a grin and a nod in thanks, before picking the bottle up. Raising your hand, you pushed Newt away from you, laughing a little. 

The main door scraped loudly, your attention directed over to it, and the lieutenant you had already managed to get on the wrong side of was already staring at you both. His brows were furrowed, jaw tense, and eyes cold, and despite it all, you tried to offer him a polite nod, one which he simply ignored as he tore his eyes away from the pair of you, and watched you leave the room. He wandered away, taking a seat at the table with the rest of the crew, and you were happy to simply ignore him, knowing that engaging with the issue was only going to make your time here more miserable. 

Turning to your food, you focused your attention back on Newt, who had turned the newspaper around to sit equally between you both, his hand under the edge of your stool to pull you closer to look over it all, and you squeaked a little as you were dragged in his direction. “I need a nine-letter word that’s a synonym for ‘fair’. Starting with ‘I’.”

“I’m no good at crosswords.” You teased, taking a chunk out of your stack and bringing it to your mouth, chewing happily as he gave you a mock glare.

“Well, what fucking good are you as a partner then, huh?” You grinned, knowing he was joking, despite how hard he was trying to keep his face serious, the glint in his eyes and the twitches at the edge of his lips making it hard for you to take him with anything severity. “Fine, what kind of puzzles do you like?”

“I’m a sudoku fan.”

You tapped a finger at the empty blank grid, only a few of the numbers already put in, and he rolled his eyes with a groan. “You’re awful, the absolute worst, actually.”

He shoved at your arm, trying to push your way from him once again, and as he did, your body jerked, the food on your fork dropping down your front and rolling over half of your shirt to come and sit on your pants. You stared at it, the sticky food covered in fibres from your shirt and your pants, your brows furrowing and lips pursing, and when you looked back up to Newt, he was biting down on the inside of his cheek to hide his grin. 

“That was an accident. I swear it.”

“Uh-huh.” You picked the sticky chunk up, groaning a little at the golden sauce that had made a stain along the crisp white paramedic’s shirt you were wearing. You let out a sigh, brushing your fingers over it to try and clear the spot, but it only got worse, your skin getting sticky. “I’m going to have to go and change now, when I get back, you better be ready to do the sudoku instead.” 

He snickered under his breath, nodding his head and watching as you got up to leave the room, his eyes lingering on you as he went. 

Another set of eyes were lingering on you, every step you took until you had left the room, and Thomas huffed a little once you were gone, his gaze snapping over to his friend, who still had a small smile on his face, and evacuating his seat to travel towards his best friend, filled with the intentions for a not-so-subtle interrogation and questioning, he crossed the room, taking a seat in the stool you’d evacuated. 

“Well, you two looked awfully cosy.”

Newt looked up at him, raising a questioning brow, a cocky grin on his face, before he took in Thomas’ expression, and his facade fell away as he realised his best friend wasn’t joking. “Not quite my type, in case you haven’t noticed. I prefer my lovers with a little more cock.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Thomas huffed, and Newt ignored him.

“She’s exactly your type, though.” Thomas’ jaw dropped, the idea of such a thing making pure fire burst through him, anger surging in his system just at the idea of you. You irritated him, you made him want to pull his own hair out, and he’d only known you for two weeks, but in those two weeks, you were steadily growing on his nerves. “Paramedic, smart, cute, scalding kind of humour, pretty eyes. Worked for you last time, are you sure all this hatred you have for her isn’t just sexual tension?”

Thomas squirmed in his seat, and Newt waited for the laugh, for any kind of reaction, before sighing again. Thomas didn’t look up, instead, he busied himself with playing at the hem of his shirt, swallowing thickly as memories of the last paramedic the house had carried came flashing through his mind. 

“Okay, look, I’m sorry for bringing up Teresa.” Thomas finally glanced up, seeing that his friend really as sorry, and so he gave in, never being able to stay angry at him for too long. “You have to give her a chance, though. She’s sweet, she’s good at her job, and you were the one that kicked things off on the wrong foot, so-”

“I was clearly in a bad mood. She was eavesdropping and then held the things I said in the moment against me. That doesn’t count.”

“Uh, yes, it absolutely does.” Newt’s voice was monotone, and he knew not to argue with him when he got like this, because not once in over two decades of friendship had he ever won a fight when Newt took on that tone. “Listen, you two have been chafing at the bit to scream at each other once again, but I’m impartial here, an-” His face lit up, turning back to the paper in his hands, and he let out a loud cheer, writing the word ‘impartial’ down into the box, the final piece to complete his crossword puzzle, and that did earn a chuckle from Thomas. “What was I saying?”

“Nothing important.”

“Hey! Everything I say is important.” Newt grouched, flicking the pen at him, and as the main doors, scraped back open, all eyes darted up to you for just a second. 

Thomas was sitting in your seat, a steely look on his face as Newt sat beside him, folding the paper over to face the side with the sudokus on, and before you had a chance to think about how to approach the pair, you were being saved by the bell. The loud blaring of your signal call was sounding out, and everyone went quiet, waiting to see who was called from the slightly crackling speakers. 

Thomas and his team moved first, squad being called tot he scene, and before even hearing for medical assistance, you knew you’d be going along too. Newt fell from his chair, following after the crowds as they went, Brenda still with a piece of toast clamped between her teeth, breakfast being abandoned as the first call for whats was clearly going to be a long day coming in, and you followed after newt, a slight jog to your movements as you made your way to the van. 

Hoping up into the passenger side, your vehicle was the first to go, the trucks following only moments later when the gear had been grabbed and regular shoes swapped out for heavy-weight boots, neat rows of shoes matching up as the garage was emptied. Instructions were already flashing up on the dashboard, loud and clear, your fingers fumbling for the siren as the busy roads of rush hour traffic, mother's on their way for the school-run and office workers desperate to get in on time blocking the streets, and the loud wiling overhead took over. 

Smoke was visible from four blocks away, a mid-rise building of apartments curling up in flames, the acrid black clouds billowing up into the air, and Newt severed a little as he came crashing up onto the pavement. Police had already arrived, a perimeter being set u by offices and volunteers as groups gathered around, the pressure once again falling on you as your team took the spotlight. The public could be fickle, it was a problem you were familiar with, having seen so many good firemen, paramedics, doctors and all workers of the good fall, one bad story and a career would be ruined, and you could only wish that would never be you. 

Climbing between the seats and into the back of the vehicle, Newt rounded it, unlocking the doors from the back as you began to search for the equipment, still a little unfamiliar with the layout he held, half a month not giving you much time to adjust to everything inside. With a pack slung over your shoulder, blue flashing and the deeper honking of the horns on the fire trucks signalled their arrival, and you watched as each team disembarked from the vehicles. 

Swinging your pack up onto your shoulder, you chucked newt his own, hopping down from the truck and shouldering your way past civilians to reach the firemen of your house, Newt following, until you could find where they were all pulling on their masks, sitting atop their heads and ready to be pulled down, helmets in their hands as they waited for their instructions. 

Thomas was staring up at the flames, lips parted a little as he licked at them to keep them wet, the orange glow casting flickered across his face, and you could practically see the cogs whirring in his mind. 

“Okay, truck on the lower floors, search and rescue operations get everybody out to Newt, we’re not working on putting anything out until every soul in the building is clear.” 

Gally nodded, helmet on the top of his head as he adjusted his gloves, ensuring every patch of skin was covered, and despite the bickering that went on in house, the jokes and petty rivalries that ever lasted, it all seemed forgotten in the field. There was no denying that Thomas was a natural-born leader, he was undeniably the right choice, and everybody else seemed to know it too, because the pecking order became apparent when lives were at stake. 

“Brenda, I need you on equipment. I want the ladder up to the fifth floor. I’ll be sending people from the higher floors down to truck team, so be ready for that. I need you quick, because I’ll be climbing as you position it.” Thomas turned, glancing up at the building for his entry point. “There, north-face window. Already broken. That’s where I’m going in, Minho, you’re with me. Once we’re in, pull the ladder back, we’ll sweep the floors and come down.”

“Where do you want me after that?”

“Hoses, high as you can get them, truck can take them inside and we can start from the bottom, and work up, make it safe to get people out. We all clear?”

A symphony of mumbled agreements rose up, the team snapping into action, and you and Newt moved back to the truck, setting yourselves up for the task ahead. The loud whirring of the crane ladder set off, Brenda at the controls as she stared up at the building, and you stood in slight awe as you watched her work. 

This was your first call in which the squad engine equipment had really been used, your last house not having been big enough to have one, and this was your first time seeing the ladder unfold with your own eyes. Thomas was standing on the top of his truck, masking down and helmet on, staring up at the building as he waited for the ladder to move, and before it had even begun extending it’s second set, he was moving. 

Crawling up at the steep angle, it was barely a climb as it still began to raise, placing unwavering faith in his teammate as he went, moving toward the end of the ladder, the second set unfolding, and as he crawled onto it, he paused, letting it drag him closer to the building as it extended, before he was getting closer once again. His body was ducked down, the closer he drew to the broken window, the thicker the smoke got, the flames roaring out into the air, and he disappeared from sight as he slipped into the burning building. 

Minho was next, already moving up the ladder in chase of his commander, and when he disappeared inside too, your eyes snapped away. The splintering of wood, Gally kicking the locks open on the front of the building as the doorframe began to give way, the doors too hot to try and push with hands, and next up was the truck team. In the truck team went, the ladder retracting from the moment Minho had vacated the rungs, and Brenda was pulling it back down to the roof of the vehicle. 

Clint and Winston were unrolling the hoses from the truck vehicle, Chuck was screwing them into the hydrants dotted along the street, and then more of your team was running into the building. More of the team. You closed your eyes, dragging your gaze away from the building and reminding yourself not to get too attached to them all, because you weren’t even sure if at this rate you were going to make it sixth months here, never mind an entire year, or your career. With every house you moved to, it made it seem more and more likely that you just weren’t going to find your home.

Newt nudged his elbow into your arm, snapping you front he wallowing thoughts you were having to be able to look up, and the first two firemen were leaving the building, guiding a group out from the first floor, people who had been stuck there and were covered in soot and dust, eyes bloodshot and trembling violently in the shock. You took a deep breath, clearing your mind of everything that didn’t matter in this moment to be able to focus on what did, and as your thoughts cleared, you received the first person. 

Sorting the group into most needing of assistance to least, you started with the older members of the group as Newt worked with the kids, a packet of Disney-themed band-aids out to be used as he started to patch up cuts and clean the grazes, fingers wiping tears from little cheeks as he kept a bright smile, and you admired him. 

You didn’t know who the person who came before you was, and you weren’t too sure what happened to Newt or what made her leave, but you weren’t sure why she’d ever want to. If she’d been accepted by the people here, if she’d become a part of this family, you had no idea why she’d ever throw that away.

In the few weeks you’d been here, you’d already noticed that they were not only a team, but they were all connected. Every bond was special, even when they bickered and fought it was out of love, every teasing jab being made with affectionate undertones and bitten-back smiles, and you envied the way they never had to worry about someone having their back, about fitting in or not being accepted, because they had a home with one another. 

Volunteers of people on the street were volunteering to help, offering phones to the people who needed to call their families. Those who lived nearby had found blankets, bottles of water and supplies that they had brought over, the neighbourhood coming together to help one another in a crisis. Friends and family who had heard what happened, receiving desperate calls or watching the news had arrived, searching for their family members, and as you found a contact for every person coming out of the building, you made them fill out forms before being taken to the hospital. 

The squeaking of the hoses made you realise that the flames were slowly dying out, the smoke getting thicker and heavier as it was dampened, but the glass was no longer smashing and there was no more snapping of the building’s foundations to be heard. The lower floors were put out, the temperature in the air surrounding you beginning to drop down as it started to cool, the blazing inferno the building had once been was now being contained, and Gally emerged, from the doorway, large frame filling the entrance as she walked, an older lady carried in his arms as she trembled, and you moved to pull out the stretcher for her, knowing that she’d be needing to go to the hospital. 

She looked to be in her late eighties, possibly even early nineties, and as she was placed down, you smoothed her hair back, trying to offer her a soothing smile as you lifted an oxygen mask over her face. 

“I’m (Y/N), I’m going to get you all sorted out, and then we’ll take you to the hospital, okay?” 

She only nodded her head weakly, and you snatched up another form to begin filling out for her, the crowds beginning to dissipate slightly at the excitement and shock of it died down, situation being handled, and as less eyes were on you, watching you work, you felt like you could breathe a little better once again.

“Can you tell me what your name is?”

She nodded, a hand coming up to lift the mask off gently, and she coughed a little, fresh air not being as helpful to her as the pure oxygen had been, gasping slightly as she caught her breath. Her jaw dropped, lips moving to form a word, but no sound came out, and her brows furrowed slightly as she did. “Where am I?”

“You’re outside the apartment building, ma’am. There was a fire, but you're fine, it’s all just a  little disorientating.”

Just as you said those words, a loud explosion took off behind you, a rush of glass, dust and smoke racing over everyone, your eyes screwing shut tightly against the blast, and the firemen on the floor rallied once again, a gas main having burst that hadn't been turned off, and Brenda pulled on her own mask and helmet, following Gally back into the building as the flames took up again. 

She was startled, the elderly woman looking around frantically in her panic, and you took her hand, trying to calm her down, worried she may actually worry herself into a panic attack. “It’s okay, the team has it all under control, okay? They’re the very best at their jobs, you’re safe, alright?”

“Where’s that young girl gone?”

“Which young girl, ma’am?” Your brows furrowed, worry seeping into you once again, and before she could answer, there was a name being called out, louder and louder as it neared you both, before a woman who couldn't be any older than thirty appeared, looking completely and utterly frazzled, taking the older woman’s hand from yours. “Are you related to the patient?”

“This is my grandmother.”

“Great, okay, can you fill out a form for me while I do a check over?” You passed her the pen and the paper as she agreed, and she got to work on filling it out, letting you do your job as you lifted the ramp on the back of the ambulance down, unhooking it and securing it to the floor. Carefully as you worked, you secured her down, helping her to lay back in the pillows as you strapped her in, before rolling the trolley up and into the back. Fastening it down tightly, you set about, lifting a pressure cuff from the shelf and placing it along her arm, the beeping on the machine starting steadily as her granddaughter sat along the cushioned seats, still scribbling on the paper. “Ma’am, you said there was someone else with you, can you tell me who?”

“The young girl with the red curls.”

“Where was she?” You questioned, moving her from a portable oxygen tank to the one equipped with the truck, a steadier source of air that she wouldn't have to hold onto. 

“In my apartment. She was right there with me, a-”

“No, nana, nobody else was there.” You turned to look at the auburn-haired woman behind you, raising a questioning brow as she looked at you. “She has dementia, she’s thinking of me. My hair was more of a fiery colour when I was young, and very curly. She’s just confused.”

“No! No, there was a young girl with red hair!”

You nodded, stepping away from the pair for just a moment before reaching the front of the ambulance, wiring it to the right frequency and lifting it from its holder. “Any member of the team, this is the ambo’, is there anyone left inside now?”

“All upper floors are clear, truck is out, we’re working down on a final sweep now.” Thomas’ voice was filled with static as it came over the airwaves, and you gave a small nod to the woman. 

“See, nana? There’s nobody left in there.”

You moved back over, watching as the report you’d found had the exact opposite effect, the woman only seeming to become more on edge and upset, trying to sit up in the stretcher as she took the mask off completely. She coughed, violently at the sudden actions, and as both you and her granddaughter moved to try and lay her back down gently, she pushed your hands away, fighting to get free. 

“She’s in there! I know she is! The girl with the red hair!”

She was on the verge of a panic attack now, and you helped her put the mask back on, her relative taking over with breathing exercises, and the gnawing in your gut just wouldn’t go away. “Which floor does she live on? Which apartment?”

“She lives on the third floor, apartment fifteen.”

You hopped out of the truck, shielding your eyes with one hand as you stared up at the flaming wreckage of the building, asking Newt take over for you, before you were rounding the vehicle to the front once again. “Team, this is the ambo’ again, are you absolutely certain? Floor three, apartment fifteen, I have an elderly woman insisting that someone is inside.”

“I’m on the third floor now, I’m checking.” He left the mic open on his shoulder, just so ensure that you could hear everything that was going on, to reassure the panicking elderly woman you had hyperventilating in the back of the truck. His voice called out, signalling that it was the fire department and asking whether there was anyone left, telling you as he moved, asking four times, and silence coming back with each and every one. “There’s nobody here, I’ve checked, there’s no call out, and the smoke is getting thicker. It’s all clear, okay?”

“All clear, got it.” You clicked the radio off, turning to look at her, and there was a frazzled look in her eyes, shaking her head as she mumbled to herself. 

You’d seen it before, working in medicine did that to you, but it was still shocking every time you witnessed it, watching the fog suddenly clear, even if only for moments, watching the dazed kind of confusion clear on a persons face into something more determined and confident, as though a whole new spirit had taken over the body and mind. “No, it's not.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My nurse, she went to the kitchen, she was getting my medications. Our rota changed a month ago, she comes on Sunday’s instead of Saturday’s now. She’s trapped under the rubble, the roof fell through.” Her words were spoken clearly, no trace of her being lost or under the influence of her past, but instead, for just a few seconds, she was completely present in the moment. 

Hopping down out of the truck, you grabbed at your tatty rucksack, the medkit inside fresh, the good luck charm you carried everywhere, only slung over one shoulder as you made it to the door, Thomas’ figure emerging from inside as he stripped his helmet and mask from over his head. 

“There is someone still inside!”

He turned to look at you, raising a brow, a scowl on his lips. “I cleared the room, I called out, there’s nobody in there. I know how to do my damn job, alright?”

“No, she wouldn’t have replied. The woman’s mind cleared, just for a second, but her nurse is trapped under debris where the roof collapsed in.” He paused for a second, brows furrowing as he tried to process your words, before shaking his head, an incredulous laugh on his lips. 

“You’re taking the word of a woman with dementia?” You nodded, string up at him expectantly. “How do you know she isn’t still confused? Huh?”

You stared at him for a second longer, heart racing in your chest as you thought about the woman who was still trapped inside, before shaking your head at him. “Because I’m a paramedic, Thomas, and I know when her mind clears. I know how to do my job.”

You didn’t give him a chance to retort, shoulder past him and slinging an arm over your face, eyes stinging from the second that you were carried into the building, feet pounding against the floor. Only ten steps in, and the temperature was so hot sweat was lining your brows, your throat was stinging despite the arm you were breathing against, smoke seeping in to burn at your lungs, and tears were lining your eyes as you tried to see where to go. The lobby was glowing a dull orange, but the flames were burning bright, and you winced a little further.

Stairs just ahead of you, still standing string, and you headed straight for them. You almost put your hand down on the railing, flinching at the metal that was almost glowing from the heat it was under, and you snatched it back, skin singed a little just from hovering over it, and you regretted your decision only a little, fear crawling in at the back of your mind to combat the adrenaline, and you quashed it down. 

Only three floors, six sets of stairs, and you were there, fighting your way through a corridor you could barely see, squinting to find the numbers on the door. You were certain you’d found apartment fifteen, sure enough that you’d bet your life on it, and you were, because if you had the wrong one, you certainly didn’t have time to keep looking. 

The room was destroyed, flames crawling up the walls, and the tears in your eyes were now leaking down your cheeks, the air becoming too thick to breathe, and you were running on limited time. You let out a little sigh of relief as you spotted the pile of rubble, assessing it carefully, and catching sight of a hand that wouldn’t be able unless you were looking for such a sign in the right place, dropping to your knees beside it. Your fingertips burned as you touched the hot mess of stone and drywall, pulling it away, your nails ripping with each catch on jagged rocks, and you hissed a little under your breath. You could see her, leaning in close enough to press your fingers to her neck, and you let out something between a relieved laugh and a sigh as you felt a pulse under her skin, albeit incredibly weak. 

A hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you back, before a mask was being dropped down onto you, an oxygen tank beside it. You snatched it up, barley bothering to adjust it before you were pulling it on, taking deep and gasping breaths of the fresh oxygen, the pounding in your head making you squeeze your eyes shut, the rush of fresh O2 in your blood making your head spin and ache for a moment a sit rushed to your brain once again.

Her face was revealed, the fireman beside you having better luck with the debris, gloves making it a burn and pain-free experience, and when there was enough cleared, hands hooked under the woman’s arms, pulling the rest of her body free. Dropping your rucksack, you tore it open, zip running rapidly along its track and you searched for the cloths, a water bottle following it, and you soaked the rag, ringing it out quickly, before laying it over her face. Lifting her up and into his arms, the man waited only a second for you to bundle the oxygen tank and medkit into your arms, following behind him as he began to guide you back out of the building. 

The floors were creaking and giving way, shaking under your feet as you ran after him, down stairs that were beginning to grow weak, the metal bannisters now a bright orange and you flinched away from them, hissing slightly as your jacket brushed against them, zip getting hot just from the brief touch and burning across your hand. 

Hoses at the main entrance, spraying down everything they could reach without entering the collapsing residence once again, and as you stumbled out into the light once again, Newt was already waiting with the stretcher to receive her. She was placed down, dark red curls on her head that had fallen out, blood spilling from a cut along her head and she was matted with dust that almost made her unrecognisable, but she was wearing a distinctive nurses uniform, and pride welled up within you form the second her heart beat on the monitor, Newt fixing a cuff on her arm, before wheeling her to the ambulance again.  

Following after him, you noted that the elderly woman had moved to sitting beside her granddaughter, clearing the stretcher for the nurse, and before you could board the vehicle or help Newt load the stretcher, a large hand was wrapping around your upper arm, jerking you roughly and spinning you to face the one who’s grabbed you. 

Helmet dropping to the floor and mask torn off over his head, you were met with a face that he'd more rage than you’d ever seen him have for you before. His nostrils flared, jaw clenched so tight you worried his teeth would shatter, and his eyes were dark with the kind of anger that genuinely scared you. 

“Are you fucking insane?” You took your own mask off, everything under your arm dropping to the floor, the tank clanging loudly as it hit the pavement, but you didn’t even flinch, staring right back at him. “You are reckless, that was so stupid, you have no concern for the other lives you just put at risk!”

“We just saved a life!”

“And what if we hadn't, huh? What if you ran in there, and I had to follow you, and two people died, instead?” He made a valid point, but he was failing to see the fact that you’d save a person’s life, someone who must’ve fallen unconscious from smoke inhalation, trapped under rubble and thinking they were going to die, and they were saved. “You have no regard for the rest of the damn team, yo-”

“You just saved a life, Thomas.” His jaw snapped shut, confusion stitched into the anger on his face as he stared at you, head tipping to the side just a little, gaze never leaving yours as he continued to tower over you, shadowing you from the building, shoulders rising and falling quickly as his chest heaved for breath, adrenaline stile acing through him. “She thought she’d been left behind, and that she’d die. You just saved her. She gets to live because of you.”

He was breathless, everything seeming to halt for a long second, before he was taking in a shaky breath, letting it go as a long sigh, and his shoulders slumped a little as he did his best to quell his rage. Your heart was racing in your chest, and his head ducked down, for a moment, maybe two, before he was looking back up. 

“Maybe you should think about that the next time you want to act like a dick, for no reason.”

You heard a sigh behind you, knowing Newt had been waiting with bated breath for the calling of a truce between you both, but you didn’t back down easy, you didn’t cave just because a big and tall man got angry, and Thomas looked angry once again. “It was selfish. Even if you don’t care about the rest of us, you almost killed yourself.”

“I thought this was a team, if me taking a risk is such a burden to you, don’t follow me next time.”

Shoving the mask into his chest, he barely had time to grab it, before you swiping down to scoop up your bag, and turning your back on him to meet Newt. He gave you a look, shaking his head slightly, and you could read it perfectly, knowing that it had been the perfect chance to try and patch things up with Thomas, but you didn’t regret your actions because the woman who was still unconscious with a steadily rising heartbeat beside you was alive thanks to you, and so as he took a seat in the front and started up the vehicle for the hospital, you took over caring for her, and pushed it all away. 

Maybe it had been selfish, and maybe everyone else would see it the same way Thomas did, but it was clear this wasn’t going to be your permanent home anyway, and so it made it a little harder to choke back the anxiety as you realised you wouldn't have to deal with it for much longer anyway. As soon as a new transfer came up, you’d be recommended for it, you were sure.

It was silent for a long time, all the way to the hospital, the tension in the vehicle thick as you knew Newt was mad at you, the radio having been suspiciously quiet, and on the return from calls, it was normally buzzing between all trucks and vans with chatter and congratulations, but you had no doubt that due to your actions, it had gone silent. 

You checked in the elderly woman, who’s mind had slipped away from you once again, and the nurse, who was in and out of surfacing, the doctors taking over as the two of you were left alone, and Newt wandered away toward the vending machines. You made you way back to the truck, the pains and aches of the day beginning to set in, and you realised he’d taken the keys with him, leaving you to lean against it. Placing your bag on the hood, you pulled out a disinfectant wipe, using your teeth to tear it open, wiping the blood from torn nails and wincing a little at the skin, before trying to wipe your face and arms down too. 

You had acquired a lot more subtle grazes and burns than you’d realised, but each spit flared up in pain when the wipes moved over them, making sure you wouldn’t get an infection, and it was as you were applying burn cream in the reflection of the window that Newt finally approached you again. 

Turning to face him, his lips were set in a thin line, and you frowned, knowing just how much you had disappointed him, but still trying to be strong, swallowing thickly on a dry throat and putting the cream away, zipping up your pack and barging it onto your shoulder, turning to face him for the verbal beat down. 

“You scared the hell out of me, y’know.” You sighed, arms wrapping around yourself a little, because when someone was shouting at you, you could hand that, but the puppy-dog eyes he was fixing you with now and the wounded tone of his voice was a crippling attack. “Didn’t expect to see my partner running into a burning building alone.”

“There was someone in there and I know you’re mad at me, bu-”

“I think you did the right thing.” It was your turn to be speechless, caught off-guard by him agreeing with you, and he chuckled a little at the startled look on your face. “I agree with you, alright? It’s just terrifying. I know Thomas isn’t easy to get along with, you shoulda’ seen the rivalry he and Gally had for years, but forgive him for getting mad, alright? He’s got a big heart, but he’s been hurt a lot, and he locks it up pretty tight. He cares about his team.”

“I don’t think that curtesy extends as far as me.”

“Just give him a chance, he’ll come around.” Newt offered you a water bottle, and a candy bar, both from the vending machine in the hospital halls, and you unscrewed the lid, his eyes on you in a scrutinising manner as he watched you take a sip instead of replying, and you didn’t like that look, somehow feeling like he was staring right into your soul. “You’re going to transfer out again, aren’t you?”

“We both know I don’t fit in here, Newt.”

“Bullshit!” You now knew what real anger looked like on your blonde colleagues face, the look flashing over his features as fast as lightning, and you tore your gaze away, busying yourself with your drink. 

“Another transfer will come up in a few weeks, and we both know that Thomas won’t hesitate to sign the forms to get me gone.”

“One year.” You frowned, turning to look at him, your face painted with puzzlement, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You want the harsh truth?”

“Not rea-”

“You skip between houses without ever giving them a chance. Maybe some bad shit happened, maybe you just don’t fit in, but you’re not trying hard enough. Plant some roots, because I happen to think that if you just give us a chance, you’ll be a perfect fit for us.” You huffed out, lips rolling as you contained what you wanted to say, not used to someone speaking to you with such a crass attitude. “Give it a year, stick around here for a year, and if you still don’t think you belong here, then I’ll write you a personal letter of recommendation myself, and I’ll get both Thomas and Gally to sign it.”

“I’ve been at other houses longer than that and still not found my home, Newt.”

“You’ve never found us before.” Silence took over between you both, and he licked at his lower lip, glancing away from you for a second, eyes flickering over the car park, before looking back. “I like you, I think we make good partners, I want you to stick around. I think you should give us a go, even if it is awkward for a while. Just brave it through, for once. I think you’re running away from houses and refusing to settle because you’re scared, not because you can’t.”

Your breathing hitched in your throat, and you sighed, shaking your head at him, words coming out as a whisper; “That was mean.”

“Yeah, well, it was the truth and you needed or hear it. What are friends for?”

You glanced up, fiddling a little with the snack you held, the plastic crinkling, anything to break the tense silence “You’re my friend, then?”

“Of course, I am.” He cracked a grin at this, nodding his head, and stepping in close enough to nudge you, with a roll of his eyes. “Now, get in the truck, eat your cereal bar, and think about what I said. We have the team to get back to.”

[millllenniawrites]

delicate (Poe Dameron x Reader)

part six of dear love of mine

words: 1.9k

warnings: mention of hair but specifics aren’t given; reader has a last name; regency au for the aesthetic but it’s historically inaccurate for the *vibes*; afab!reader; slow burn; sexual themes throughout; eventual smut; pining; warnings will be added as the series progresses

a/n: it’s been ages since I updated this series but hello! We’re back! Reader is a mess and I love it! Hope you guys enjoy this chapter!

__

The late afternoon sun peaked out from behind the clouds and you basked in the light, tilting your face up to catch its rays. This was the reason you’d agreed to promenade all the way to town when you could have taken a carriage. The warmth, the light, the time outside, it was one thing who’s description in books just never measured up, no matter how talented the author.

Ana and Finn strolled ahead of you, close enough that your mother would have scolded them. Her elbow brushed his and their eyes met and you grinned like a fool, almost skipping beside the General. Your hand rested on his (very firm) bicep, which you used to keep a respectable amount of distance between the two of you.

Your dreams hadn’t fooled you. He did run warm. As warm as the sun that beat down on you both. You kept a light grip on him, scared he may be able to feel the way your heart raced through your palm if you held on any tighter.

The General leaned close enough to murmur, “It seems our plan is working well, Miss Dean.”

He was right, though you hated it. In the few days since he’d proposed his scheme, Ana and Finn had seemed to grow closer still. This whole excursion was Finn’s idea, to head into town. It worked out well that your mother had requested an order of fabric and that you could take over this task for your servants, who had been swamped preparing for the season ahead.

It would be Siena’s debut. She was still young, but your mother wanted to give her a chance to enjoy herself without the pressure of marriage on her first season.

You would be attending the parties too, as a chaperone. It would be easier to turn down suitors now that you and Poe had been seen in public together. Though when he began courting others, it might pose a problem.

He was well within his right to do so. It wasn’t as if the two of you were genuinely courting. Even if he was sweet. And had had flowers delivered to your bedroom two mornings this week.

You had tossed them out the window.

As you reached the edge of town, you stepped away from him, pretending that you needed both hands to lift your skirts. Luckily, the shop you had to pick up the delivery from was right along the road.

Finn bowed slightly to Ana before turning back to you. “We will collect your mother’s order.”

“We’ll be here.” Ana batted her eyelashes at him and you resisted the urge to groan.

This would make her happy. This was the entire point of putting up with the General at your side and his very warm, very large hands.

He stepped away from you, following Finn into the shop without so much as a backwards glance.

“So things with the General seem to be going well.” Ana’s elbow found a soft spot in your side and you coughed, which saved you from responding. “I never thought I’d see the day you let a man truly pursue you, sister.”

“This hardly counts as pursuit. And once the parties start, I’m certain he will get swept up with all the beautiful debutants.” One of those girls would do much better for a General, someone that had been instructed since birth on how to take care of a man and a household, rather than in matters of trade and employment and the upkeep of your property as you had.

Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper. “Have you seen the way he looks at you? I cannot imagine anyone else catching his eye the way you have.”

“A temporary interest, perhaps. But it is temporary.” And fake, though you couldn’t tell her that. She would most certainly object to any kind of meddling on your part, despite the fact that you had meddled and organized and made-happen most of her life.

The boys were quick. The General and Finn were at your sides moments later, the roll of fabric balanced over Finn’s shoulders. He looked like you imagined a sailor from one of your novels might, swaggering and sweet and able to carry double his weight if he chose to do so.

Those shoulders would be good for lifting children. And for taking care of your sister.

The General did not leave the shop empty-handed either. A small bag poked out of the pocket of his trousers, and he was clutching something tight in his hand.

“Miss Dean,” the General ducked his head, though his eyes didn’t leave yours. He held his hand up between you, opening it to reveal a pale golden ribbon. He smiled, small and almost timid, and something inside you melted. “May I?”

You nodded, though you weren’t sure as to what he was asking. He stepped forward and looped the ribbon around your head like a circlet. His fingers brushed your soft skin as he secured it with a knot at the base of your neck. You shivered despite the heat, goosebumps running up your arms as you gazed into his eyes.

“Cold, Miss Dean?” He asked. Though his words were innocent, they were tinged with something darker. Something knowing, as if he could read your thoughts in your eyes.

“Just caught a chill.” You forced a smile, turning to your sister. “Shall we head home?” The stain in your voice was evident, and she hid her grin behind a gloved hand as you turned back for the road home.

As Finn found his place at Ana’s side and the General found his place at yours, you began to seriously regret not taking a carriage. The walk home seemed so much longer, each step like running through molasses.

“Miss Dean, you’re shaking. Once we are out of sight of the town, if it would make you more comfortable, you may wear my coat. I can imagine your mama would not take kindly to you taking ill from a stroll.”

“I am fine,” you hissed, stepping even further away from him.

A carriage barrelled down the road towards town. And towards you.

You were nearly fully in the road, and the General reached for your elbow to guide you back out of the way. “Miss Dean, I must insist—“

“You will insist nothing.” You wrenched your arm out of his grasp, but moved off the road just as a carriage careened past.

The General skirted behind you, putting himself between you and the road and forcing you to walk further away from danger in order to keep your distance from him. “I will insist that you don’t end your own life, Miss Dean. I am courting you. Your death on my watch would tarnish my reputation.”

You would have slapped him if not for the warmth in his voice. He was… joking? Had you reached the point in your strange companionship that you could tease?

When you looked up at him, your elbow bumping into his side, his eyes were soft. There was a vulnerability to him, an openness that stole your breath.

You stuttered to a stop. He continued on, ending up in front of you and completely turned around to face you. “Are you feeling well, Miss Dean?”

“I am,” you breathed, unable to pull your gaze from his face.

“Shall we continue?”

You suddenly shouted, the words ripped from your throat. “A stone!”

Ana and Finn stopped and turned, looking at you curiously.

“A stone in my shoe. There is a stone. In my shoe. On my foot.” You rambled, your face burning.

Poe ducked his head to hide his smile. Only loud enough for you to hear, he said, “But of course. I would not expect an intelligent woman such as yourself to wear shoes on your shoulders.”

Poe knelt before you. He held his hands out and you let your foot peak out from under your skirts. Carefully, without touching your skin, he undid the buckle and eased the shoe of your foot, shaking it out before holding it before you once again. He did not comment that there was no stone, simply smiled up at you. Kneeling before you. A surge of power flowed through you at his physical submission.

You snatched the shoe out of his grasp, shoving your foot back in it and setting off without waiting for him to rise. He scoffed behind you, but you paid him no mind. You stomped past Finn and Ana, the buckle on your shoe clacking with each step.

You could feel Ana’s glare scorching across the backs of your shoulders, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. Not now. He laid you bare before him with a simple smile, and then returned your power to you, over and over again.

It was beginning to make your head spin.

The General returned to your side in silence, though you could still feel the burning of his smile. You did not exchange another word until the four of you had passed into the house.

The sound of the buckle on your shoe snapping against itself echoed in the large foyer as you stopped, turning to Ana and Finn. Mister Kirk took the fabric from Finn and disappeared, presumably to deliver it to your mama.

After glaring at you, Ana guided Finn into the drawing room with a promise of a game. The doors were left open, as was proper, and her ladies maid stood watch over them.

You did not realize how close the General was standing to you until his whisper tickled your ear. “Would you like to stop this charade? Your sister and Finn seemed to be progressing just fine without us.”

You startled back and shook your head, aggressively enough that the ribbon the General had tied for you fell from your hair and onto the floor. You weren’t sure what had come over you, but you were more than certain that your sister and Finn would need your help. You had to see this through.

“Then we shall continue.” He said simply. “You do keep things interesting, Miss Dean.” The General picked the ribbon up from where it had dropped and handed it back to you. “I cannot say that I regret accompanying my companion this summer.”

“I have a feeling, General Dameron, that Finn is the type to not take no for an answer. I am not certain you could have avoided following him in his pursuit of my sister.”

He chuckled again. “Perhaps we will end the summer with each a sister for ourselves.” The darkness in his eyes had returned. His tongue wet his bottom lip and you gasped involuntarily.

“Goodnight, Miss Dean.”

The General was the first to walk away, the edge of the brown bag just peaking out of his pocket.

You clutched the ribbon tight in your hand. You considered throwing it to the ground, or running outside and abandoning it to the creatures of the night, but you couldn’t let it go. Instead, you clutched it to your chest, the fabric soft against your palm, and you watched the doorway he’d disappeared through, waiting for him to return.