#sorry guys he got hungry and they are broke no other option :(

[bugisbonkerz]

marinating for later

[haunted-xander]

She was hungry- no, scratch that, she was starving. And tired. She felt about ready to collapse any moment now. Sadly, it's not as easy to find safe spaces for rest or edible foods as it is in video games. At least those games have taught her a few tips for survival.

The sound of screaming and crying nearby snap her out of her thoughts, alerting her to danger. The sound seems to be coming from the abandoned grocery store up ahead. I guess someone was looking for food and got in trouble... Not wasting any more time, she quickly dashed towards the grocery store to see what's going on.

Standing in front of the pried open doors, she heard a vaugely familiar voice cry out. "I-I-I'm sorry! I d-didn't mean t-to get in the way! I-I'll leave and I promise n-not to tell anyone, s-so please let me go!" Gruff, unstable laughter burst at the poor victims plead for mercy. "AHAHAHA you really think we're just gonna let a delectible little coward like you go? I don't give a shit about you tellin' anybody about us, it's not like I can't handle some weak-ass bastards." The scraping of metal pipes dragging across the floor was almost enough to make her cover her ears, but the sound of a body scurrying backwards and hitting the wall kept her alert.

"W-what do you want from me then?! I don't have anything to give you, no money, no food, no nothing! J-just let *sob* m-me go alre-ready" The victim broke out into loud sobs, no longer able to hold back the tears. "What, you cryin' already? Man, what a total wuss! If this is all it takes to get 'im crying his eyes out, then he won't even last a minute of what I've got planned!" One of the attackers cracked his knuckles, preparing to grab and restrain the victim.

Having had enough of this harrassment, Chiaki grabbed the pipe holding the doors open and rushed inside the store, quickly hitting the nearest attacker over the head and knocked him unconscious. The two other attackers turned to her, but before they could ready themselves to strike, she kicked one of their legs in and wacked the pipe into the others abdomen. She then hit them over their heads as well to make sure they didn't get up.

The victim -who she could now identify as Ryota Mitarai- looked up at her with a shocked yet hopeful expression. "N-Na-Nanami-san...?" A small smile graced her face, but quickly switched back to a determined look. "...Wait a moment. We shouldn't start talking until these guys are properly taken care of." Chiaki gestured to the unconscious attackers, hoping Ryota would understand what she meant. When he gave a nod in reply, she glanced around the store for... "...Hey hey, Mitarai-kun. ...You don't have any rope or anything on you, do you?" Surprised for a moment, he thought for a second, "A-ah, um, n-no I don't have any on me... B-but! I-I saw some down the aisle on the... l-left, I think." Nodding her thanks, Chiaki went down the mentioned aisle and quickly located the ropes. Taking a few with her, she hurried back to the entrance and tied up the attackers.

"...Yep, that should do. Now they can't cause more trouble even if they wake up." She turned back to Ryota, who she noticed was still shaking despite being much calmer than earlier. "...So, Mitarai-kun. It's been a while, hasn't it? It's good to see you again. ...Even if the circumstances could be better."

"Y-yeah... It's good to see you too... Nanami-san." Awkward silence filled the room, as neither knew what to say to the other. If this where a visual novel, my dialouge options might be something like... [ Comfort: Hey, it'll be okay. I'll protect you! ] Or... [ Casual: What a way to start a class reunion, right? ] Or maybe... [ Serious: We should go gather some food. It's gonna be tough out there, but at least we've got each other now, right? ] ...If only I knew Mitarai-kun better...

The growling of her stomach snapped her out of her thoughts. "...Well, I guess we should get some food first, huh?" Mitarai finally stood up from the wall and approached her. "Y-yeah, I guess we should." Ryota Mitarai has joined your party!

[threadandlace]

Piano Man (Sam POV)- seamstress for the band series part four (2.3k)

I know POV’s aren’t everyone’s cup of tea, but each boy will have one VERY short POV chapter during the course of Seamstress. If y’all like it, let me know. If you hate it… I’m sorry! It’ll only be 4/15 (and a bonus 16th part to wrap our dear seamstress’ story up…)

Masterlist- to start from the beginning

Why the hell did I just wink at her, the fuck was that for? 

Danny smacked you back to reality, literally. He was whacking you lightly on the back, pulling you into him as you made your way to the stage. “I was really worried you wouldn’t make it, man,” he said, giving you his signature crooked grin. “Yeah, we were really worried that we were going to have to push the opening back, play some more tracks,” Jake said absentmindedly. You heard the final song from the pre-show playlist finish playing in the auditorium, the crowd erupting in screams and cheers. Josh jiggled as he removed his shoes, the stagehands checking his mic pack. A roadie helped you step out of your shoes as another assisted in slinging your bass over your neck. The never ending movement of people checking and plugging things in finally ended and you all nodded to each other before taking the stage. “Let’s do this gentlemen,” Jake said, beaming as he started up the steps to the stage. 

____________________________________________

The show had gone fantastically, an absolute dream of a set. You walked off stage and into the arms of your family, the six of you walking side by side down the ramp to backstage. 

“So, what’s the plan for dinner?” Josh said. “Churchill’s?” Jake threw out the suggestion to the group and everyone agreed. The family split off and headed to the restaurant to grab tables while the rest of you changed and showered. 

You made your way back to the dressing rooms and found her sitting in a chair in the hall, pencil hovered over her open sketchbook in one hand, a soft pretzel in the other. “I didn’t even know they had pretzels here,” you said as you walked by her, noticing how her hair had fallen into her eyes as she was leaned over, lost in thought. You broke her from her trance and she glanced up at you, her brain seeming to take a moment to catch up to her eyes. “Oh, yeah,” she said with a sheepish smile. “They’re new. I got kinda hungry so I did a lap around. They have some decent options.” You nodded, “yeah, we used to come to hockey games here back when we were kids.” “The corn dogs were the best!” Josh cut in, giving her a smile. Danny moved in to sit down in the chair next to her, the three of them chatting briefly about the show. “You guys probably fucking smell, leave her be. We need to get a move on,” you barked as you turned to walk down the hall to your dressing room. 

You showered quickly and ran a brush through your hair before shaking it loose. You put on the clothes that had been laid out for you, suddenly feeling very grateful for the crew that helped keep everything running smoothly. You turned off the bathroom light and threw your towel onto the counter after running it through your hair one last time.

You fixed yourself a shot and threw it back before mixing yourself a drink. You swirled the liquid, watching the ice cubes rattle against the plastic cup. So much money and we can’t even get real glasses? You gathered your book bag up and headed out to the hall, knowing a roadie would collect everything from your dressing room and your clothes from earlier in the day would end up on your bus, laundered and folded. 

She was still sitting in the same chair, although she was now engrossed in an actual sewing project. You watched her for a moment as you sunk into a chair across from her. Her brows were furrowed as she expertly moved the needle through the fabric, attaching some sort of embellishment to what appeared to be a shirt. “You work pretty damn fast,” you said softly, breaking the silence. She glanced up at you, her face relaxing as she shifted her focus from her work. “Twenty years will do that,” she answered, giving you a smile. 

A worker from the venue approached her and asked her a question about wardrobe. You zoned out of their conversation as they talked. You watched the way she leaned in and explained whatever she was talking about, gesturing the entire time before sitting back and laughing, the worker giving her a thumbs up and walking down the hall towards the dressing rooms. She smiled to herself as she returned to attaching the lacy thing to the shirt. 

“Do you want a drink?” you asked her, realizing your cup was now empty. “I’m okay, I don’t think I am supposed to really drink when I end up taking the pain meds I’m on,” she said, never looking up from her work as she answered you casually. You felt your chest squeeze as your eyes fell onto the still slightly black eye she had that she’d clearly covered with makeup. The cut on her cheek was still red and angry, and, you were sure, painful. You nodded and headed to the closest dressing room to make yourself another drink.

You knocked on Danny’s door and entered. He was bent over, a towel around his waist as he put products in his hair. He straightened and looked at you in the mirror. “You good?” he asked, continuing to twirl some pieces of his hair as he turned to face you. You had turned your back to him to stand over the liquor and mixers in the corner, but you heard him start to pull his clothes on. “You want a drink?” you asked over your shoulder. “Nah, I’m okay for now.” You nodded and turned, taking a sip of your drink. He was watching you as you drank. “What?” you blurted, gesturing at him with your drink. “You seem… off,” Danny replied before sitting in a leatherback chair, reaching for his socks. “I’m fine. I’m tired,” you shot back, taking another sip. “Yeah, okay. How many years together and you still think you can lie to me?” Danny said as he slipped on one of his shoes. He sat back to catch your eyes before tying it. 

“Josh said you had a panic attack. Is that true?” You shook your head, your face growing warm with irritation. “I did not. I was fine, it was just annoying to be stuck in a dark ass elevator,” you spat back, ignoring his worried glances. “Okay, we don’t have to talk about it,” Danny replied as he bent to tie his shoe. “I really don’t know why it had to be your grumpy ass stuck in that elevator with her. From now on, I’m riding in the elevators with her,” he said, giving you a playful smile.

 You nearly choked on your drink. “What?” you asked. “What? It’s no secret I think she’s gorgeous. Smart and artistic too. What’s not to like? I guess unless you’re you and you smacked her in the eye with your stupid phone and have been constantly rude to her. And are still stuck on some girl who was no good for you and…” You cut him off, “you’re one to talk. At least we were the same age.” Danny stopped what he was doing, frozen. 

You’d gone too far, but it was too late to turn back now. “Whatever. We both have baggage, it’s fine. So, are you going to fuck her or what?” you asked. He shook his head before looking up at you. “Not everything is about that,” he cracked back at you. “Don’t you go soft on me now, Danny boy. Starting to sound like Josh, wanting a spiritual connection and shit. It’s not fucking worth it.” 

“Sound like me about what?” Josh said as he walked into the room, Jake close behind him. “Oh, Danny just has a little crush,” you sneered, laughing as you finished the rest of your drink. Danny rolled his eyes. Hearing Josh say her name made your blood boil for some reason. Danny nodded and Josh shrugged, “I get it.” “Not you too,” Danny said, giving Josh a playful shove. “Oh no, I don’t have time for any of that, too much going on,” Josh said, shaking his head and waving his arms. He was probably feeling the three shots he took on stage along with the adrenaline rush wearing off. “Shall we go?” Jake asked, edging closer to the door. You all nodded and walked out towards the back of the venue.

“Hey, you coming to dinner? You’re definitely invited,” Danny said, leaning down to rest his hand on her shoulder. She jumped slightly at the contact before turning to face him and smiling. 

You always need to talk to her before you touch her, she’s jumpy as hell. Come on, Danny. 

“No, I am going to go get on the bus and clean everything and get it put away. I need to finish altering Sam’s suit for tomorrow and I’d like to get some rest tonight,” she answered as she started to gather her things. “I think they moved all of our stuff off of your bus, so you should have your tranquil workspace back,” Josh joked as he reached forward to hand her the journal she had left on the table. She took it from him and gave him a warm smile. You cleared your throat. “Shall we head out?” you asked, pointing towards the exit. You all told her goodbye and headed on your way. 

____________________________________________

Dinner had felt comfortable, familiar even. Yet you couldn’t shake this feeling of general annoyance, especially with Danny. The way the whole table laughed when he told a joke, how your mom made sure to always include him in any story, the way he texted her to see if she wanted anything from the restaurant. You knew it was ridiculous. You didn’t want a relationship. Especially not with her, she wasn’t even your type. 

You had another couple of drinks before the tab was closed out. Telling your family good-bye was bittersweet. You always missed your parents and your sister, but you were constantly reminded how lucky you were to have your older brothers along with you for this ride. Even if they could be generally irritating, the way siblings were. 

The ride back to the venue was quiet. Everyone was exhausted and pleasantly buzzed. You all collectively walked towards the wardrobe bus, almost unconsciously. Albert greeted you as he opened the doors and you all climbed on. 

She stood, leaned over a laid out back of a suit jacket, drawing on the fabric with what looked like chalk. Her eyes snapped up and she straightened, giving the group a warm smile. “We wanted to check in with you before we started on our separate, yet identical journeys,” Josh said, gesturing wildly as he spoke, nearly taking her water bottle clear off the edge of the table. He was clearly drunk, speaking in what you called his ‘bad poetry tongue.’ You snickered and Jake shot you a look. 

“Oh, yeah, I’m good! Ready to roll! Oh, Sam…” your ears pricked at the sound of your name leaving her mouth and you looked up and worked to focus on her. “... I finished taking in your jacket, so I’ll need you to try it on in the morning. I’ll actually need all of you guys to try on your stuff if possible. So I have enough time to make any adjustments.” You all nodded. “Of course, we can’t wait to see everything,” Danny said and you rolled your eyes. Damn, lover boy. Laying it on thick. The look of appreciation she gave him made your stomach flip. You broke the silence. “Well, good night. We will see you in Pennsylvania ,” you grunted as you turned to head off of the bus. Josh gave you a weird look but the rest of the group gave their good nights and followed you off of the bus. 

“Shit, I left my phone,” you mumbled before turning to walk back up the stairs to the bus. Albert was watching something on his phone and paid you no attention as you walked back to the large table in the middle of the bus. “You okay?” she asked you, her eyes searching your face. “Oh, uh, yeah. I forgot my phone,” you replied, reaching to grab it off of the table. She reached forward and placed her hand on yours, sending electricity zapping up your arm. She stood up and walked around the table to stand next to you. “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know today was pretty stressful. And you had a panic attack,” she continued, squeezing your hand. 

Something about the way she was so concerned for you despite how much of a dick you’d been and the alcohol in your system pushed you forward. You placed a hand on her waist and pulled her into you. You leaned in and gently pressed your lips onto hers. She was tense at first but slowly relaxed into you. She pulled away suddenly, her wide eyes searching yours. “Sam, I uh…” she stammered, taking a step back. You released your hand from her waist as she moved, allowing her to move further away. She pushed her hair back from her face and took a deep breath before looking up at you. The look on her face told you all you needed to know- she was not interested. You held up your hands and took an unsteady step backwards. “Sorry, just forget about it,” you said, giving her a nod before turning and walking back off the bus.

You had just royally fucked up.

Taglist: @radmads-gvf @eyelinerjake

Let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist! <3

[novasdarling]

If you’re still doing the prompt list requests, could I ask for yandere Tamaki with noncon and oh please stop crying, I just couldn’t stop myself? Especially if he’s had her kidnapped for awhile but she’s still terrified of him. Your writing is awesome, btw, I hope you’re having a great day! :)

A poor skittish darling, who wants to be better, but just can't.

Couldn't Stop Myself

TW: Noncon, Smut, Past Kidnapping, Crying/Dacryphilia-ish, Female Reader, Aged Up!

Crying was all you did nowadays. It didn't matter if he was there or not, you still cried. Even if he was doing something as simple as bringing you food. It all felt like hell. As if just being around him was torture, and it was. He had done so much to you, kidnapped you, locked you away. He was your prison guard and nothing more in your eyes.

Tamaki tried to be nice. Tried to be gentle and sweet, but your affection back never came. Weeks after weeks you still cried when he entered the same room as you. Only getting a tiny bit better after all this time. It wasn’t enough though. He wanted more, it was only right. You two were a couple, couples were supposed to kiss and cuddle. Smile around each other, but you never did. You just cried. Tamaki wanted to be with you normally. If he was honest, he was getting annoyed. At himself and you. He swore he was doing everything right. Letting you adjust on your own. He knows maybe kidnapping wasn’t the best option, but he had to. There was so much wrong in the world. Danger everywhere, he had to protect you. It was a wrong that could be ignored, a wrong for a greater cause.

He got you flowers almost every day, got you gifts that he knew you would like. Always let you pick the movie on movie nights. Doing anything he thought would make you happy, things he read about in those couple magazines. Tamaki tried to get you to warm up. To make you smile with him, yet the most you gave was a smirk when he made a joke.

Finally, he broke, it wasn’t his fault. You looked so sweet sitting on the couch in one of the dresses he got you. So sweet and cute. It was foolish to think he could control himself. You were happy with his gift, actually enjoying them. It was the thing that broke the damn. He greeted you and then rushed to you. You flinched when he sat down so close. Stroking your check before planting a kiss on both of them. It was obvious you didn’t want it. Allowing him to kiss you had different meanings for the two of you. For Tamaki, it meant you were loving him back now. That you were okay with everything now, wanting him the same way he wanted you. While for you it had a different motive. The idea of acceptance had only just started to enter your head. You still despised his affection, wanting him to just leave you alone, but you knew it was better this way. Let him have a small piece of affection so it doesn't snowball into him wanting more later tonight. Tamaki didn’t realize that or didn’t care. Didn’t bother to go in slowly. No, he was an all or nothing guy. This was the most he had ever been allowed to touch you, he never realized just how badly he needed it, until now.

“You look so pretty baby.”

He kept peppering kisses on your cheek. His hands held your face still, while you tried to move. You weren't ready for this, all of this was now becoming too much. But Tamaki was a greedy lover. Especially when he had been denied something he craved for so long.

“N-no A-Amajiki-"

“Shh sweetie, it’s okay. I’m just so happy baby. I’m gonna make you feel so good.”

There was nothing you could do as Tamaki pushed you down on the couch. The tears began to fall hoping that would make him stop, but it didn’t. They never did. Sorry's and pleas fell from his lips as he continued. Along with sweet words, trying to get you to stop crying, to enjoy it too. His hands brushed over your body. Feeling under the dress. His lips staying on yours. His kisses were sloppy and hungry. Eager and demanding. The smile that spread on his face just couldn’t be helped. This was something he had wanted for so long. You had hoped it would never come this far. That he would either give up eventually and let you go when he realized you weren't playing his game. Or he would at least wait until you asked for it. For so long you thought he would choose one of those options, but now your hope was lost.

This was a different side to Tamaki. Before he had been rather kind for someone who had kidnapped you. Caring even in his own odd way. Always stopped when your tears became too much. This time, however, he didn’t stop. Even as your and his cheeks were wet with your tears. You could barely breathe. Whimpering between kisses for him to stop. All you received was him hushing you, trying to calm you down between kisses. It didn’t work.

“Please sweetie, hush. I-I won't hurt you. I promise.”

Tamaki's hands kept wandering your body. Though he pulled away from your lips. Looking at you, wiping away your tears. He wanted this so much, had been dreaming of this since he first saw you. But you looked at him terrified. Wanting this to end. Your dress was pulled up, allowing him to see the cute set of underwear you had. Lacy and sweet. He loved these on you. You just looked so sweet like this, laying under him in this little outfit. How could he ever stop himself? After all, you were his.

He leaned back and begin to shed his outfit, but by the time he was working on his pants. He got impatient. Needing you right then and there. His pants barely came down below his hips. Quickly getting between your legs again. There was no moving away from him, that was a lesson learned long ago. Usually, your tears had deterred him from trying to get more from you than just touching and kisses. Now though, it was clear your tears weren't working as they typically did. Seeing you now, under him crying, it did something to him.

“Oh, please stop crying, I just couldn’t stop myself?”

You tried to stop the tears from falling. While he used his thumb to rub them away. Tamaki was settling himself between your legs. Pushing your underwear to the side. Letting his fingers slide past your lips. It was hard for you to ignore him. Hard to pretend it didn’t feel good. Having his finger rub against your clit. Once he heard a gasp from you, he let himself go. Focusing on your clit to get more out of you. You looked so lovely like this. Laying there and whimpering for him.

“N-No stop. T-too much!”

“Shh, I’ll go slow baby. I-I promise.”

His fingers circled your clit. He knew you couldn’t fight off the pleasure building. There was no stopping it. The knot began to form in your stomach. His fingers were making you feel so good. It wasn’t fair, all you could do is lay there, cry and moan for him.

Tamaki couldn’t help, but smile. Here you were, finally wanting him as much as he wanted you. This was driving him crazy. He needed you, needed to be in you, needed to hear you moan his name as you finished on his fingers. Working your clit as he slid in a finger. Slowly pumping it until you were grinding against him. You were enjoying yourself, enjoying how he made you feel. His fingers were bringing you closer and closer. Finally, you snapped and grabbed onto his arm. Needing something to centre yourself. Looking into your eyes. Tamaki was revelling in how they were clouded. You were out of it. He had done this to you.

“See, was that so hard.”

Tamaki leant down and kissed your temple before lining himself up. He needed to be in you at this moment. He had waited long enough, this was something he had thought about for so long. Lining himself and pushing in slowly. It took everything in him to not just push all the way in. He needed to take his time with you, he didn’t want to hurt you.

“That’s it, I promise I’ll be slow-you feel so good baby. S-so tight.”

He was finally fully in. Resting for a moment, letting you adjust, letting himself calm down. Your moans were soft and sweet. They were addicting, knowing he was causing them. That he was the one right now in you while you laid there. To him, you were letting him have you. As if this was your idea and not his.

His thrust began to speed up, and his control began to slip. He needed this. Wanted you so badly, wanted to fuck you, to cum in you. Your moans were being drowned out by his whimpering.

“Please baby, I need you. I need you so badly.” He was a stuttering mess. “Fuck, I-I can't s-stop.”

While your face was a mess, covered in tears. He was a mess with pleasure. His thrust sped up. His control was gone now. He needed everything you had to offer. Everything he could get his hands on. Tamaki buried his head between your shoulder and neck. Trying to muffle his sounds. His pleas and cried for more. His apologies and excuses.

“A-Amajiki, no please. Too much. Too m-much.”

“No, no. Not enough.”

He was close, wanting nothing more than to have you filled by him. It was a sudden urge, he needed to finish in you. Like it was some way to claim you. He knew there would be consequences. That you could get pregnant and you weren't ready for that. It was too early, but hell to it. He needed this, and he believed so did you. You would understand your place with him then.

“I’m c-close.”

The words could barely come out. His ability to make sense was slipping away every second he got closer. His thrusts were hard and fast. Chasing his own high. His arms wrapped around you harder while he buried his head further. Giving one last thrust before he spilt into you. Finally, stilling. Tamaki was in pure bliss. Everything he wanted just happened. It was a shame you were still crying. Trying to muffle your whimpers. It was an odd feeling, almost like you didn’t want to ruin his moment. Finally, looking up at you, he gave you a shy smile.

“I’m sorry baby. I, uh, I just got excited. I’ll be better next time.” He pushed himself up, laying gentle kissed on your face. “I love you so much. Y-you know t-that right?”

There was nothing you could do, but nod. Tamaki was a monster in a way, but one who loved you. One who kept you away from the other monsters. Just to keep his own claws on you.

[t-h-i-n-g]

Hello! Could I request Percy Jackson hcs with a platonic! Gn best friend reader who thinks they're not good enough/too boring of a friend for him? Thank you in advance!

a/n: hi! Thanks for requesting. Sorry if this is crappy- i haven't done headcannons before but I hope you enjoy it!

word count: 530+

summary: percy was was way too amazing for you to even compete. He's fought gods, monsters, and everything in between. you were just...you.

warning: reader is insecure and doubting themselves, nothing too major.

PHO/HOO - masterlist  m.masterlist

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

You were always skeptical when it came to your and Percy's friendship.

He was Poseidon's son. One of the big three’s children. The guy was a celebrity practically at camp, while you were just kinda… there. You didn’t go on quests or any other fancy adventures.

Yet for some reason Percy decided to choose you to spend time with Which you didn’t understand. Why was he choosing to hang out with you when Annabeth or Grover were just a walk away?

You didn’t even know the two personally. You were just acquainted with them when Percy invited you to hang out.

You had other friends of course, it was just that Percy was kind of an outlier of them. Not in a bad way just the fact that he got way more attention than anyone else did.

One night when you were lying in bed unable to sleep you decided that distancing yourself would be the best option. Whenever you did go with him, Annabeth, and Grover it was always awkward. You weren’t included in a lot of conversations as most of their topics had to do with things that happened when you weren’t there.

This would be the best for everyone’s sake was what your mind was telling you.

The next day when Percy invited you to breakfast with him you declined, telling him you weren’t very hungry that morning. He brushed it off thinking you must have had a big dinner yesterday.

Later on when you were training he approached you once again asking if he could spar with you. Again you denied saying you were just finishing up and that you were pretty soar. He was skeptical as he saw you walk in not even 15 minutes earlier but once again brushing it off. Maybe you overdid yourself the day before.

He finally confronted you about your weird behavior when you passed up the opportunity to watch Lilo and Stitch. You never passed up the opportunity to watch Lilo and Stitch.

Percy asked why you were acting so weird today. 

You feigned innocence telling him you had no idea what he was talking about.

There was an awkward wave of silence that washed over you. He broke it first.

Asking if you were sick of him or something. Your eyes widened denying the accusation.

If that wasn’t the case then you had to tell him what the hell was going on with you.

It took some coaxing but you cracked eventually. Letting out all of the negative thoughts that were eating you up inside. The thoughts that said you just weren’t worth his company.

He took in everything you said. Trying to think of the best way to respond.

Percy decided by telling you that there was a reason he wanted to spend time with you and not others. He enjoyed it plain and simple. You were always a joy to be around, cracking jokes, and bringing light to any bad situation. 

You listened to the factors he listed. Confidence slowly grows within you. Once he was done you spoke.

Making him promise that he ever gets bored of you to let you know. He responded with a laugh.

Telling you to never change and he’ll never ever be bored.

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likes and reblogs are appreciated :)

[sunsents]

Content 2/2 - F.W (M)

Empty Chapter II

IT'S. OVER. Holy shit, this took way longer than I expected it to be. Yes, it’s 20k mf words and what abt it. Don’t look at me like that. I warned ya’ll 🙄. Now, I definitely made up some words while writing this. Like a shelved corridor, the heck is a shelved corridor?!?! Please tell me it makes sense…please for the sake of my sanity. The smut is kinda tame so I’ll whip out the chains on the next one.

CROSS POSTED TO WATTPAD HERE

Summary ���> Years later you find yourself face to face with the person that caused your ruin - yet this time, somethings different.

Pairing: fredweasley x fem!reader

Word count: 20k... honestly I completely get it if ya'll wanna sit this one out

Warnings: *deep breath* a poor attempt at humor / gingers / pining idiots / normal idiots / excessive cursing / fred weasley in slacks / alcohol consuming / very little angst (its mostly just overthinking) to fluff / minor character death / smut / oral, (fem) / fingering / cum play / sexual mf intercourse mfs / protected sex (dont be silly protect your willy) / dirty talk / sappy stuff

Rating: 18+

DON’T REPOST MY WORK

tagged: @opalsheart @ronsbadidea @uselessmoonlight @boxofbadaddiction @lovenonymously @sergeantkilowog @rudypankowisdaddy, @nobutfredweasleytho some names didn’t come up when I tried, so what do we get from this? I can't properly use Tumblr <3

Five Years Later, 2003

"____, will you just calm down." Aleyna lets go of the book box full of bathroom supplies and they clink together, to which you wince because these are your stuff and you’re in a far too dangerous position to lose more money.

"How can I calm down?!" you exclaim dramatically, tossing your wand on the nylon wrapped couch. "It's all Stacey's fault."

Aleyna quirks a brow, "Whose Stacey?"

"That one chick from Magical Catastrophes who always has lipstick on her teeth."

"I don't think her name is Stacey though."

You send Aleyna a look that screams, stop being reasonable at a time like this. No, this was when you overpaid your TV cable to air The Twilight Zone and drank cheap wine while cursing out your boss who cared about your well being. Hermione had become The Minister of Magic, and of course you were proud of her. Though, this didn't mean she could let you have time off work whenever something insignificant happened.

"Probably not," you mutter, opening your fridge and coming face to face with the painful truth that it’s empty, and you’re hungry. Your hand unintentionally flies to graze over your scar as you survey your options, a small pack of ketchup and left over chips. "Suits her though, feels good to say 'Goddamnit Stacey' when something goes wrong in my life."

Stacey deserves it because Stacey doesn’t refill the staplers on purpose.

Aleyna snorts, though it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. "What did Stacey ever do to you?" Then she wheels across your new apartment to retrieve more boxes from outside.

You’re grateful for the support of all your friends, but the pitying looks they give you whenever someone mentions the words house and fire is enough to fuel into your secret want of setting their houses on fire. It was an accident, you were just trying to make the delicious recipe Molly had sent you, ignoring the small fact that you didn't know how to properly use an oven. The savings you lost from your bleeding bank account were not worth pasta with tomato sauce on it.

Though, your new apartment is big, bigger than your first because after making a name for yourself as an Auror money came easily. Wide walls for a projector TV, long tail shaped couch standing firm on varnished wood floorings, and two bedrooms that have their own - kind of unnecessary - bathrooms. Not to mention the giant kitchen with an island, only rich people had islands, where you could make plenty of Italian recipes and not worry about burning the house down because Aleyna fool-proofed it for you.

The flat was at the top floor of the new bar she just built, and she was kind enough to let you start renting the place. The residents of Diagon Alley had been fighting for this apartment for months, and you were proud to have snagged it before anyone could even offer.

Gripping the last two boxes, Aleyna pushes the front door with her foot and navigates herself backwards through the other dozen boxes you had just tossed on the floor. "These are the last two, are you sure you don't need anymore help?" she offers.

You shake your head, "I can just use magic, not in the mood for pursuing the muggle lifestyle right now."

Aleyna frowns, this reaches her eyes though. "That bad huh."

Simply nodding, you don’t bother getting into an in depth rant about how a simple fire didn't mean you had trauma, and that you didn't need to stop working for a few weeks. Not that being an Auror was hard, your work days have been quite uneventful if you didn't count a few "Revalutioners" sticking a muggle's head in a toilet.

"I know what will cheer you up," Aleyna chimes, already clad in her pea coat and sneakers. "Dinner, and it's on me."

You couldn't possibly say no to free dinner, also making food for yourself was probably not a good idea right now. Stay clear of ovens, you reminded yourself.

After getting snug in your coat and fluffing your hair, you fall on step next to Aleyna as the two of you chat.

The London cold is brutal, shivering whomever until their noses turn red and making their hands feel itchy when sudden warmth overtook. You’re used to it, as is anyone in Diagon Alley. People are crowding the stores, chatting loudly and waving their wands around at stores to reserve whatever crappy gifts they were going to buy for their family's.

You hate the holidays, refusing to go back to America and visit your own family. Your mother couldn't cook, nor could your father. Though, that didn't stop her from insisting every year and giving you, your father and the Burke's food poisoning.

After three years of sitting through awkward family dinners where everyone ignored the fact that you were almost Head of Aurors, and focused on Eva's collapsing career of Healer only to praise her, you had about enough and stopped attending. It had been two years since then, they didn't bother to write. Your dad occasionally sent you money in a horrible christmas card with an even more horrible pun written in red glittery letters that also sang Run Run Rudolph.

"Ugh, everyone's crowding the joke shop aga- oh." Aleyna pauses. "I'm sorry."

She knows about your past with Fred Weasley, considering whenever you rant about work it ends up with you cursing him and Eva out. He had such a blame-able face, just like Stacey from Magical Catastrophes.

You give Aleyna a look. "You act like I'm not a grown woman who can't get over something that happened eight years ago." you say, shaking off the small snow particles that begin to lightly fall. "You should be like this with, I don't know...my relationship with Theo! We broke up last year, why aren't you fragile with him, hmmm?"

Aleyna claps your back in a friendly manner all the same. "I know I know, but come on. This is childhood trauma we're talking about."

"Now that I think about it, seeing Eva's coochie was traumatic." you grin, and Aleyna's jaw gape even if she heard the story hundreds of times before. Not that Eva's...modesty was bad per say, just not a pleasant sight seeing as you guys grew up together.

Other than that fact, you hadn't talked, even seen Fred after the war ended. Sure, you occasionally stole glances at their very successful joke shop, but there was no point in dwelling and trying to fix an already withered away friendship.

You had fixed your relationship with Ron and Harry, having had no choice since the three of you worked together. "You were right ____, we were assholes. You don't need to apologize." they had told you, and that was that. The two families and well, you did weekly dinners and enduring the two men for Ginny and Hermione got easier as days passed, finally ending up in a good friendship like old times. It was casual between you, easy when no one mentioned how abruptly your friendship ended. No one dared to either.

Also, Harry was your boss and him remembering that you called him a drama queen wouldn’t do you any good in your career.

People bump at your sides as the two of you squeeze your way towards Sacree Fleur. The end of Voldemort brought a new, reformative era in the Wizarding World. Diagon Alley expanded, new buildings were built and culture grew. You were happy to see that Ollivendar's Wand shop renewed, along with other crumbling buildings that needed desperate attention.

Bandits lessened, and the utter arrogance some parents had by not sending their children to get magical education faded, partly because there was nothing to fear, and partly because more job opportunities arose, like said, money came easily.

Fleur Weasley, your good friend and someone who had done the impossible and won over a Weasley brother - though she was gorgeous and possibly the sweetest person you've ever met, so really they were perfect for each other - had decided on a whim to open a french restaurant. Bill couldn't say no to his wife, the rough man you had met years prior was softened with age and the struggle of raising children.

Good wine, deliciously soft steak that melts in your mouth and warm atmosphere that makes five o-clock feel like midnight. It’s by far your favorite restaurant and you'd much rather spend your Christmas Eve curled up next to a warm candlelit dinner on a terrace.

"Bonjour!" an obscenely attractive woman, Fleur greets the two of you when the revolving glass doors are pushed, and you break out in a wide smile seeing your friend at the door. "____, Aleyna! Come here, give me a big hug!"

"Fleur! What are you doing here?"

With dopey smiles, the three of you embrace.The door closes on it's own, and you shiver unintentionally, just now realizing how cold it is. Usually the big marble fireplace keeps Sacree Fleur warm, but even that seemed not enough and the restaurant is adorned with small muggle heaters, floating up above the ceiling and adding to the red light of the candles.

"You'll see. Came at a most amazing time too, silly girl always knowing when to show. Saw all the juicy drama when you were younger..." Fleur continues to joke lightheartedly, pulling away and leading the two of you through occupied tables as she faux scolds. People are content, it feels warm and almost soft. Conversation seems to flow easily and the unease you feel for the Holiday melts. Almost.

You blech whenever someone brings up the line ‘love is in the air’. It never made sense to you, because love was simply a fairy tale that would wither away with time. Also, how could love simply float? Of course, unless you count Amortentia fumes - which yours always smelled like sweat and crushed hopes. So frankly, you prefer expensive Dior perfume in the air rather than love.

Though now you find yourself doubting whatever you engraved in that well protected head of yours, love is truly in the air at Sacree Fleur. All kinds of love, mothers lovingly wiping food off their children's mouths, happy newlyweds clinking their wine glasses together with nothing but adoration in their eyes, friends enjoying sharing a simple dinner far more than should be done.

"My family, they're upstairs having dinner. The kids like the ice cream here, Mr Fortescue provides it well."

"Family? Ginny and Hermione are here?" you ask, lazily climbing the steps to the second floor to reveal the more, private part of the restaurant. Now, instead of wooden chairs with red cushions attached at the middle, there stand long booths with comfortable blankets and pillows with empty, eerily clean tables - except one.

The long table near the terrace is much livelier today, people sitting there whom you consider your own family. The three post luster that hangs low from the ceiling is turned on - it’s the first time you’ve seen the glamorous glass orbs in action. Its light ricochets off of several bright orange heads, simply calling it a lamp does no justice. The hue is yellow, low and it reminds you of the Christmas Eve fantasy you planned.

Said orange heads turn at the noise of delight you let out. "Oh Fleur! This is gorge- oof-"

"Auntie ____!"

A pool of orange locks squish into your stomach, snug in the soft fabric of your coat and you let out a chuckle. You can’t help it, even if you would never admit, he’s your favorite by a small number that-

"Well well, if it isn't Teddy Lupin."

The small boy chuckles, hair matching your black coat like a chameleon sticking itself on a flower and absorbing the color of the petals. You ruffle Ted's hair as the orange fades, he’s delighted to see you, and so are you yet your attention is quickly cut off by several disembodied voices thrown your way.

Bill Weasley is standing up, wine glass on one hand while grinning wide. “Look who my dear wife brought in!” his tidy yet visible scar stretches when his face brightens, you remembered again that day, just how much love you have around you.

“Hey everyone, hope we’re not interrupting.” you apologize, wincing but Bill quickly shakes his head and pushes his chair back.

You waddle your way towards the marble table, Teddy following suit with his face still smushed in your coat. He grips you tighter and you have to peel his small little limbs off your legs.

Aleyna scoffs, arms crossing together as she surveys Ted. “The blatant favoritism!”

Teddy rushes on his little legs to jump in Aleyna’s arms, and only then are you able to acknowledge the other - a little less important - people in the room.

“Happy holidays!” echoes around your head as several people embrace you all at once, and you have to simply stand and awkwardly loop your arm around whoever you can get a hold of.

Once the formalities are over, Ginny throws her arm around your shoulder. The red tresses of her dress hike up her leg from her slightly bigger stomach, and you can see the small broom tattoo on her thigh that she loves to display like a trophy. “You should’ve told us you were coming! We would have saved you a seat.”

A round of yes’s resonate around the room, and you take a quick moment to scan who’s afternoon dinner you’ve just interrupted. Hermione, hand resting on her very pregnant belly, is smiling warmly at you, and Ron quickly shoots up from his seat and wipes his mouth to catch up to his wife. Harry follows in his friend's wake, his hair has a white streak at the front and you furrow your brows.

“Age catching up with you Potter?” you grin, rubbing Ginny’s back fondly before she separates from you and greets Aleyna. “Or is it the pregnancy?”

Harry scoffs, pulling you in his embrace for a quick friendly second. “Always the charmer ____. I’ll have you know I’m handling it wonderfully, right Gin’?”

Ginny pauses, “Erm, yeah…”

Harry’s face feigns faux disbelief, and it quickly melts as you bombard the man with questions about how Ginny’s first trimester is going. You mentally take note of asking Ron about Hermione’s as well, your two best friends are fucking pregnant. It’s almost too happy, and slowly the anxiety creeping up from your spine wraps around your throat, ready to suffocate you whenever.

It was always like this, the past ready to make it’s deathly move, because nothing is perfect. Happiness doesn’t come this easily.

And you’re right, because not only a minute after the warm embraces of your friends comes the voice of the person you’ve been dreading to see.

“____?”

And then, you’re suffocating.

He’s a man. Of that you’re sure, because now his muscles stretch well over his broad shoulders, maroon satin shirt loose on his frame, tight around his biceps - properly sculpted of course - portraying defined collarbones.

His eyes are somewhat duller, though the same glimmer of loveable mischief he always had is evident. It will never go away, even after all these years, yet it’s tamer. That mischief caused him quite the trouble back in school, and now it seems he knows when to act, when to speak and when to stay silent.

His silhouette catches you off guard, his features are sharper, much sharper than how much Harry has matured. His biceps bulge obscenely when he rests his - also generously sized you might add - hand on the table, and the table suddenly doesn’t seem that long.

His forearms, on display with his sleeves rolled up, glistens under the soft lighting of the balcony. Your eyes fall on his bracelet adorned right wrist, one of which in particular catching your attention.

He’s still wearing the bracelet you gave him.

His face, always glowing, wears a large expression displaying his set of perfect teeth. He’s awestruck, you think.

You watch him push his large body out of the small chair, and wow chest, is your only thought. Then further down and...god damn thighs. Burly thighs - probably very comfortable too - squeezed in black tight fit jeans, however he managed that you don’t know but it was nice to imagine.

He’s leaned back, casual as he strolls towards you in two large steps, his long sculpted legs never disappointing.

Fred Weasley is genetically designed to ruin you and your insides with just one look, and you’re ashamed to have realized it all too late because when he speaks again you swear you saw stars.

“Wow - you,” he breaths, walking towards you with slow, unsure steps. “Grew!”

You raise a brow, Aleyna snorts. Grew? His steps should be unsure, because you want him to take them back, sit his fine fit ass back on that chair and pretend he never saw you.

Because this wasn’t your plan for tonight, seeing him wasn’t in your checklist. You woke up today, thinking nothing but coffee and a stressful moving day ahead. Not of the boy - the man you’ve been in love with since childhood, the man you blamed for your problems as an excuse to hide the heart squeezing pain of loneliness, the man you hadn’t seen in so many years you forgot what his voice sounded like.

You could have never guessed, and now you want to go back. Somehow rewind the clock to this morning when you were safe of your tucked away feelings trying to bulge, safe in your own little circle. All your efforts of leaving your house just a little early so you wouldn’t run into Fred seems stupid now. Your strategy ran smoothly for five years, it could’ve ran for more.

You would have continued avoiding him like your life depended on it, and his stupid joke shop, and the way he stupidly looked at you everytime he saw you. You’re reminded again, because no matter how older he looks he’s still Fred, and he still looks at you the same.

“I mean - beautifully! Shit I - fuck.” he groans, and George claps his brother on the back with a chuckle. Wherever he came from, because you were so entranced by Fred that you didn’t see George standing tall next to his family.

“____.” George stops before you, hands in his pockets. it happens too quickly that you’re forced out of your panicked state.

You raise a brow, and only then - Fred’s out of view with George’s figure towering over you - are you able to find your voice. “George.”

He pulls you in his tight embrace, “How come you never visited!” he scolds, chest stretching back to bring you with. “You’d think she’d bloody say hello once in a while! Maybe drop by our shop after 5 years, you quack!”

“George - can’t,” you heave and your legs wobble when he sets you on the ground again. You clear your throat, grinning widely at your...friend?

It would be fair to call him an acquaintance, right? You don’t know where you stand with the twins but you have love for them. This is clear from the way you can’t stop smiling like a sappy idiot - or perhaps it’s because of how contagious George’s smile is. You thought they hated you, but the youngest looks anything but displeased. He gives you a squeeze again before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“I thought - I dunno. I thought you guys didn’t wanna see me.”

George scoffs, “Because you told us off that one time in seventh year?” he laughs, arms folding and displaying a set of bulging biceps much like Fred’s. “Yeah mate, you’re not that intimi-“

“George Weasley, finish that sentence I dare you!”

His eyes grow wide. “Sorry Ma’am.”

Someone clears their throat.

It’s Frederick Weasley, probably here to beat you to death.

“Hey Fred.” you greet, mouth dry. Get a grip, you scold yourself.

Fred opens his arms, “Well well,” he laughs, pulling you into a hug with a polite smile. His cheeks tint red when you shuffle closer, you would have missed this but you’re a creep, and you can’t stop staring at the beautiful man before you. He displays his beautifully indented smile lines, as if he was saying look at me! I’m perfect and sexy, I also broke your heart that one time, too bad I had no idea!

And it’s true, Fred never knew about your feelings. You kept them well hidden and they ate away at your organs from the inside, there was no reason to blame him. The realization is probably what compels you to accept him with open arms and wrap them around his neck.

You feel him shiver, dismissing it quickly because of the cold.

He smells good. Way too good that you melt in his arms and let him engulf you in his dangerous warmth. Manly, musky cologne, mixing with hints of cigar smoke that lingers on only certain areas of his shirt. You recognize the scotch in his breath when he whispers how much he had missed you, and his nape still has that cinnamon deliciousness he would parade whenever he came out of the shower, you fought the urge to shiver yourself, and it’s not because of the cold either.

It’s dizzying, and before you can start a detailed essay about how good his muscles feel, firm and digging into all the right places, he pulls away.

The past hits you like a ton of fucking bricks and crumbles down the firm foundations of the walls you have been building for eight years. You feel guilty, have you learned nothing? The loud pounding of your heart is a warning, yelling at you to stop getting swept away. Yet you can’t control it, just like how you can never control your feelings.

“I missed you guys too.” you breath shakily, you have to make sure to keep your distance. For your own good, you tell yourself.

Teddy pulls away your attention, and you silently add buy Teddy an expensively dumb toy to your checklist.

He sticks to your leg and is adamant on staying there. “I grew taller.” he says, looking at you between his eyelashes. “He says I didn’t, but I know I did!”

You chuckle, ignoring how Fred looks at the boy with such a warm expression, ignoring the way your heart nearly catapults out your chest.

“Well, stand straight soldier!” you demand.

Ted immediately lets go of your leg and straightens, hand going to his forehead to salute you. A giggle escapes him when you bend on your knees and act like you have a measuring stick on your hand. “Oh yes yes, seven feet tall and growing.” voice mock deep, you nod sternly.

“By this rate - I’ll pass you! Hah!” Teddy stomps his little foot on the stone floor, little sneakers barely making a sound.

You stand up again and fold your arms, “Well, I grow too you know! You can never pass me.” smirking slyly, you egg him on to see how much he’ll endure before he demands a ride on your shoulders - because that’s how giants saw the earth he told you. You doubt giants compare to a twenty four year old woman with attachment issues

Ted stands on his toes, struggling to tug on your shirt and bring you down. “No, I don’t like this game anymore…”

“Alright alright.” and with that you pick him up and prop the little boy on your shoulders.

Ted happily kicks his feet on your chest and you groan. He’s supposed to be five, not a midget wrestler. “Easy buddy boy.”

“You’re amazing with him, little twerp barely lets me tie his shoes.”

Fred’s voice startles you, only now do you realize that he had been watching you and Teddy. Speaking of, Ted’s busying himself with your hair, small hands pulling and twisting locks and mumbling incoherently.

Ear tips slowly catching fire, you chuckle. “Buy him a broom at four and see how he handles it.”

Fred shakes his head, tongue poking at the side of his cheek and you remind yourself to breathe. “You spoil him then? They say the way to a five year old's heart is money.”

“Damn, I’ll drink to that.”

Nuff words said, everyone soon sits on their designated chairs, and you pull one from another table, being the uninvited one.

Aleyna isn’t slick, you knew she had something up her sleeve the moment she had offered to pay for dinner. Though, this is your fault. You let her without calculating whatever end result was waiting to catch you off guard and ruin your entire life plan to avoid Fred Weasley.

Being the snake she is, snake Aleyna enticed you with nice food, dragged you to Sacree Fleur and did her little snake magic.

Awkwardly angled next to your best friend, you chat with Harry and Hermione while they tell you what you missed from work. (Not that you missed much, actually nothing different seems to have happened other than boring paperwork and Mrs Newersman’s new hairdo.)

Swirling your wine in one hand, the reflection of Fred from the rim of the glass keeps distracting you.

He’s changed, not personality wise though there were tweaks. Nor looks, he’s an adult now and his boyish charm is gone, but it isn’t quite that.

You can’t put a finger on it either, and you watch him laugh, carefree with his sister.

He looks relaxed, or maybe it’s merely the wine. Is it - no, couldn’t be. He looks happy. Genuine happiness and adoration for whomever. Love in his eyes as he looks at - Ah. He’s looking at you.

You jerk your head away and tip your wine glass back to gulp down liquid courage - because you need it tonight.  This is bad, you tell yourself, kick you on the shin and punch to your gut bad. This can’t keep up or else you’re going to end up right back in that hollow pit of empty hope and gooey saturday lasagna.

“So, any plans for Christmas Eve ____?”

Ron’s timbre voice thankfully grips your arms and pulls you away from said hollow pit.

“Uhh what?” you cough awkwardly, setting your now empty wine glass down.

“Christmas Eve, what are you doing? Going back home?” Ron asks, raising a brow.

You can lie but something compels you not to, maybe it’s how warmly they always welcome you, how they’re welcoming you now with open arms and nice food.

You shake your head, answering honestly; “No actually, I’ll just celebrate with Jambo and Christmas movies.”

And that’s exactly how you’ve been spending your Christmas Eve these past few lonesome years. It wasn’t that lonely, you had Aleyna and people loved her bar, you’d drop by and count down with people you didn’t know, at least you got to kiss a random stranger.

“Jambo? He’s still alive?” Hermione chuckles.

“No no, this is Jambo Fitzwilliam the Second, who is also a cat but don’t you dare tell him that!” smiling, you joke lightheartedly to conceal the harsh news.

Your hand reaches to trace around your scar as you speak.You know their eyes follow, and you know they stare at it when you’re not looking. Teddy asked you one day, even after Ginny’s scolding but you happily told him your heroic story and how Bellatrix smelled like piss and rum.

Sighing, you set your hand on your lap.

Jambo had unfortunately passed away because apparently dogs couldn’t live two hundred years, which you were disappointed because clearly Dumbledore could. You had already grieved and mourned, it left you with the happiest memories of your precious dog and you were grateful.

“Poor kitty doesn’t know he’s adopted?” George frowns, banging his fist on the table.

You roll your eyes, “I’m sure he’s caught on by now, he’s three.”

“So, you’re spending Christmas Eve alone?” Fred asks, too suddenly and you flinch. He probably sees this, his effect on you.

You nod, and your friends gasp. Surely it wasn’t that big of a deal, or maybe it’s because of how normal it felt for you to be alone.

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” Ginny says, hand shooting out to rub your arm.

“I’ve been trying to get her out for ages-“

“Aleyna, don’t.” you nudge her arm.

“No Aleyna, do!” Ginny protests. “You’re spending it with us and that’s that.”

“Wha-“

George throws up his finger to shush you, “No objections!” he declares fiercely. “We’re having a party at our flat and you both are coming!”

“Oh! Unless you and Blaise have any other plans.” Hermione’s quick to ask, she isn’t being slick though.

Aleyna chuckles, “We had dinner reservations but we can make it.”

Hermione grins, and you watch Aleyna pretend that she didn’t notice her friend ready to snoop in her relationship with an amused smile. Not that it matters - she and Blaise have that kind of love you hoped for as a young girl. There was truly no two other people so perfect for each other.

“How’s Blaise doing by the way?”

Aleyna takes a sip from her almost empty glass and tuts on the bitter after taste. “Amazing, actually. He just got promoted…”

Almost empty glasses are soon emptied bottles, and two steaks turn into a large brownie for the middle. You know that it’s a good meal, because as you stand outside in the midnight cold, arm around Aleyna, your legs wobble and your stomach aches from all the deliciousness you’ve consumed. More like inhaled, you only realized how hungry you were until the second steak arrived.

“Thank you so much you guys!” you wave your arm, overly theatrical, forgetting about what a day you’ve had.

Though, the thoughts catch up as you lay awake in bed.

It had gone by too quickly, and your heart is still beating louder than any chirping of the bugs outside. Your bedroom lacks furnishing, it only adds to your wild imagination. Your mind paints pictures on the blank walls as your eyes dart around, Fred didn’t look in your direction once that night.

Or maybe he did, only you didn’t see.

It’s strange, whenever you turned your gaze his way, he seemed to be busying himself with whatever, whether it be his fork or napkin. How interesting can a damn napkin be? Hopefully not any lesser than you.

And are you just going to ignore that goddamned bracelet? The one you carefully sculpted with beads in such a way that you were sure Fred would suspect at least a drop of your raging crush. He’s still wearing it, that piece of string and glass - the symbol of your love and effort - survived through a war.

Are you reading into things? Surely not, he greeted you as anyone else would. Or maybe he remembered - you don’t dare think of that night.

How can they act so normally, so brazen after everything? It’s been almost six years since you saw them, have they got nothing to say to you? Maybe an apology?

Frustrated, you turn to your side and force your eyes shut.

————————

When night bleeds into morning, every cat has a tendency to quip over to their owners on their cushioned paws - which makes no noise but simple claw scratchings on the floor.

Jambo’s no different.

So, you’d imagine the poor creature's shock when he finds your bedroom empty. If he’d bothered to check, you’re seated on your island stool, pen and parchment in hand and mug of hot coffee (instant given the circumstance) in the other.

You hung your new curtains this morning, and were making use of them by shutting them halfway on the hooks while your window stood half open. You watch the snow flurry outside and gulp. If this week was to go horribly wrong... at least you have nice curtains waiting for you at your ritzy new apartment.

Jambo wraps his tail around your dangling ankle like he always does and you barely hum in acknowledgement. He’s purring, and it brings you comfort even if it’s for a small moment. But your question still remains unanswered, What would a five year old boy want for christmas?

It had been exactly two days since Ginny invited you to spend Christmas Eve together, and you busied yourself with buying them gifts - a tradition you hated because 1. coming up with gift ideas is infuriatingly hard. It’s way too time consuming, nit picking every single personality and deciding what they’ll like and what they’ll pretend to like. Pretend like they’re going to use it, and then never touch it until that one very specific occasion.

Maybe it’s excessive, but you actually like these people. They somehow give you - a sad, lonely sewer rat that’d been a neglected child - joy.

And 2. you feel like those people you make fun of every Christmas. Though, somewhere deep in your heart, you know you enjoy being those people. You would never admit it though.

What? You actually relish in the idea that you belong to a group, and that said group causes you to carry out cliche holiday traditions?

Absolute blasphemy.

Finally deciding, you leave your apartment in warm but cher clothing. It isn’t as crowded this morning - or maybe it’s because it’s seven forty in the crack of fucking dawn. Though, with the amount of caffeine you’ve consumed, it feels like ten.

Would they even be open, you ask yourself, jogging quickly about the streets on your heels to avoid the cold. It’s Christmas, they have to be.

Of course your logic sucks.

Shivering, you round the corner tea shop and fasten your pace. Ass freezing, lip tucked in between your teeth, you realize you have underestimated the morning London cold.

Soon, thankfully, the giant head of George(?) you assume, comes into view. The animatronic is motionless, big porcelain eyes closed and displaying sinister gaping holes. You shiver, and not because of the cold either.

Keeping your eyes low on your feet, you push the glass doors of the shop open. You don’t bother to check the inside from the generous glass displays, it’s way too cold and you don’t want to spend any more time outside with the giant George doll.

A bell rings, a little jingle up above that puts a smile on your face. Jambo’s collar jingled like that whenever he got excited, whether it be a pesky squirrel ready to bum off your house food, or maybe a friendly one showing its face to piss off the house dog.

You sigh, and only then notice the delicious scent of fresh coffee roast. Invading through your nostrils and turning you into a drunkard, and you can’t help but gravitate towards-

Woah, you’ve had your coffee today.

“Who's here so early, couldn’t a man enjoy breakfa-”

You smile apologetically, it’s only natural that Fred just woke up. He isn’t a morning person, after years of knowing him you found out one way or another. In your case, he was mean to you and that’s when it clicked. Fred doesn’t like the early hours of morning, where his hair isn’t as tame and his lips feel like they’re about to pop. You find it charming.

“____?”, the man of the hour comes into view, standing at the top of the spiral staircase. The first step is a rung, rolling on the hinges of the wall's edges. The staircase rattles when Fred steps down, and you quickly jump forward in panic.

Mug in one hand, his fingers rake through his mussed morning hair then settles on the checkout counter. “Morning,” He smiles, and those dang smile lines greets you, as if they’re mocking you again.

“Morning, I know it’s early and-”

“It’s okay, have you had breakfast yet?”

Taken aback, you nod. Disappointment flashes through his face, and before you can analyze he straightens. Taking a sip of his coffee and humming, he fixes his pyjama bottoms. Red and checkered, loosely hanging from his hip and giving you a teasing view of his lower abdomen. “Can I get you anything?” he asks again, adamant on offering you something.

You shake your head no and you watch his face fall. Merlin, you would have come starving if it meant having breakfast with him. The view before you is enough to fulfill your darkest fantasies, and this is enough. Because you know that this is all you could get. His friendship.

But is it though? Is it truly enough? Will it ever be enough?

The questions that linger around your head have an answer that you wouldn’t dare set free. Everything you’re doing right now is wrong, how you’re standing in front of him, letting his delicious scent compel you further into him.

He smells almost alluring - he always does - less piquant than yesterday. Probably the after taste of neglecting a shower, yet his natural fragrance is just as charming. You remember those mornings at the Burrow when Fred stumbled down the stairs, sun early and bright, woken up just like himself. He smelled ama-

Woah, down girl.

Fred clears his throat, and only then do you realize how long it has been since you spoke.

“I need to buy something.” you blurt. Fuck, this couldn't get more embarrassing. “For Ted, his gift.” You finish lamely.

“Ah,” Fred chuckles, giving you a quick lookover. You flush. “You have come to the right place.”

It’s true, the shop is truly...something. A gateway to heaven for anyone twelve or younger. Fascinated, you take your time to linger your eyes on every little nook and cranny that catches your eye.

The shop feels much tamer without the telltale rowdy crowd, it’s almost comforting. You can really see a piece of each twin on each display, Fred’s being the Deflagration Deluxe. ‘A deluxe selection of Weasleys’ Wild-Fire Whiz-Bangs’ read on the big cardboard. You chuckle, he always had a bag full of them that he carried around religiously.

“Those!” he exclaims, scurrying over to the display, “New and improved by yours truly.”

You chuckle, and Fred breaks out into a smile. “Here, I’ll show you around.” he mutters, before you can utter a protest, he takes your hand in his and drags you to a shelved corridor. “This is his favorite section, explosives and quidditch.”

You smile as you scan the heaps of colorful products lining the walls, all engraved with the shop's signature logo. Fingers coming out to touch a few, you subconsciencly swing your encased hands together. “These are real neat.”

Fred smirks, though his palms feel hotter than usual, “Not so much when he’s blowing up the bloody flat.”

You chuckle softly, eyes fluttering to imagine little Ted shaking up a pair of fireworks, unknowingly setting them off and resulting in a giant black mark on the ceiling. Because only that explains the small black stains on the walls of the shop.

“See anything you like?” Fred offers, almost in a whisper.

“No I,” you turn back to him, and something flashes between the two of you. “I’m still…looking.”

The air feels tense, warm, affecting your body. Your breath catches in your throat, Fred’s eyes bore into yours with such intensity that you don’t know what to do. Even your breathing feels on edge.

He moves closer to you and your heart flutters. His exhales hit your ear, only a breadth away from your neck and you flinch. Chills lift up the hair on your arms, “No...erm.” you mutter.

“Alright.” he says softly.

His eyes are hooded, displaying a perfectly long set of eyelashes.

How, is the question. They’re long and thick, and you’re jealous. Yes, you might have ruined yours with your curler but still, if you were born with eyelashes like that you wouldn’t even need a blasted curler.

“What are you thinking ‘bout.” he whispers, long digit lifting to stroke your cheek. So soft that you barely feel it, before he trails it up your cheekbones, to the panes of your face.

The same alarms blast in your ears, and you can’t ignore them this time. It isn’t that you don’t like this, on the contrary you’re ready to jump him.

“Eva!”

Fred takes a step back, face falling. “What?”

You shake off whatever just happened seconds ago and focus on reality. “Gosh, I forgot to ask.” you exclaim, over excited but at what cost. “How is she doing? Is she up there in the flat?”

Fred winces. “Actually-”

“I’m guessing you guys moved in together, after all those years you know. Don’t tell me you guys got marr-”

“____!” he takes a deep breath, “We broke up a few years ago.”

You freeze. “What?”

They broke up? “Why, oh Fred-”

Fred shushes you with a finger. Embarrassed, warmth spreads through you like a tidal wave. “I fell out of love, but it felt nice to have someone around, you know?”

You don’t say anything, yes you know but his loneliness and yours is much too different.

Growing up, Fred had the support of his family, he always had someone there. You knew it was bad to dismiss him like this, but the aching in your heart wasn’t going to allow him to speak like that. He always had someone affirming that it would be okay, someone to pat his back whenever he scored a goal through a hoop, whenever he got a good grade or did a cool trick with his broom. He still had them, even if he was at his worst. He had endless support. You didn’t.

It wasn’t easy after the war, living alone with nothing but the collar of Jambo gripped tightly in your hands. He had died shortly after Voldemort fell, and you had to hang onto the last piece he left until your agony died down. That was your only support.

Ginny, Hermione and Aleyna were there of course, but everyone's way of coping is different, and they didn’t understand yours nor each other’s. It’s worse to try and forget, run away from that fear because it would always catch up with you, and you found that the best way is to sit and feel.

But that doesn't mean your friends weren’t any less supportive. The after effects of the war were way more harsh on you than you let on, you were stuck on autopilot - a painful loop that made your life feel worthless. Work, money, survival - the three main aspects occupying your mind at all times. You didn’t have the love and attention to give to friends or a relationship (maybe that’s why it never worked out) but soon, Ginny and Hermione had reached out to you.

It was a simple letter delivered by their family owl Nebula - a descendant of poor old Errol. You remember tears pooling in your eyes when they told you how much they missed you, they gave meaning to your life. It was no longer the painful loop, they invited you over for dinner, visited every other day after hooking up your house Floo Network, you were always a welcomed guest in their homes.

They made you realize that friendship didn’t need much energy nor hard effort, just being there for each other was enough. Love for someone came naturally, and you didn’t need to extract some of your own self-love to give to others. They were two different things.

Skimming past that, you watch Fred show you three different options of Make Your Own Fireworks kits. You smile solemnly, accept a random one and quietly follow him to the checkup counter.

“So.” he starts, wrapping the product with the paper design you picked. “How about you, anyone special?”

Drumming your fingers on the counter, you shrug. “I dated Theo Nott for a year, I knew nothing would come out of it but like you said, nice to have someone.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Nott? Really?” he frowns. “Can’t believe that tosser managed to-”

You snort, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Shrugging, Fred hands you the package. “Nothing, it’s just that -” he pauses and his eyes look at you like you should know what he’s talking about. As if the two of you have some sort of telepathic connection, Fred was always like this.

He would look at you like you understood a word you said, even though he’s been silent for the past minute or so. He always struggled to express himself, and you’re sad to see that this habit followed him into adulthood.

Nonetheless, you smile. “Just that what?”

“Nevermind,” he sighs. “That’ll be twenty five galleons.”

“Twenty what?” Your eyes widen. “You heartless man!”

Fred gapes at you, struggling to keep a straight face.

“Twenty five, to your oldest pal? Twenty and a stick of gum.”

Fred pretends to think. “How about you keep the gum and give me twenty four.”

“Twenty two.” you narrow your eyes, leaning forward on the counter. “Oh come on, it’s Christmas!”

Fred scoffs,“I am giving you the holiday discount!”

Grumbling, you reluctantly stick your hand in your purse and take out your wallet. “I won’t forget this. You’re in my book.”

Fred gasped dramatically, “Not the book!” he exclaims, “Twenty two then, please for the love of merlin not the book.”

You lift your chin, head tilting to the side to survey him mockingly. “Twenty two it is, you won’t get away so easily next time.”

The two of you giggling, you pay him the money and leave a few sickles. “For the great service.” you say, him pretend-blushing at your words and tucking a strand of his shoulder length hair behind his ear.

He speaks after some time, the laughter has died down and left it’s comforting after taste. “I missed you ____, why didn’t you visit?”

That turns the after taste into pure panic.

How can he ask that when the answer is so obvious. Fred’s still cruel it seems, he doesn’t bat an eyelash as he speaks. He knows the reason.

“Oh you know,” you start after some time, “Work and stuff.” you lie, and fight the urge to cringe at your words.

Though Fred doesn’t buy it, he doesn’t push it either. He simply nods, looking down at the checkout counter. You’re glad he’s avoiding your gaze, because it makes your departure much easier. “See you at the party Fred, thanks for the...uh. Yeah.” you awkwardly lift your bag up and give him a wave before pushing yourself outside. You can finally breathe.

——————

You look good.

Or, at least you think you do.

Blaise was arriving in exactly seven minutes and you barely just put on your dress. You’re sure of this because Blaise is always on time, he even has an unnecessarily expensive watch on his right hand that he obsessively likes to check. At least Aleyna’s into it, frantically trying to strap her heels, she’s wriggling herself towards the front door to somehow track her lover. You don’t know how love works, maybe they can smell each other from a mile away or something.

Shaking your head, you fluff your hair and wipe a hand across your under eye after wetting it with your tongue. You think Aleyna calls for you, you’re not sure because you’re too occupied trying to decide if you’re going to wear lipstick.

“Hey,” you walk out of your bathroom door and scurry towards her, “should I?”

Aleyna raises a brow. You scoff, “Stop doing that, you know I can’t raise mine individually.”

“Sounds like a you problem.”

“I’m about to make it your problem too if you don’t help me.”

As reflex, you roll your eyes. You only do this because you know it reminds Aleyna of that one chick from Blaise’s workplace - she knows no boundaries, apparently. It’s a shitty move, but it’s a shitty world.

Aleyna carefully inspects the two products you hold tightly between your hands. A simple shimmery gloss and a nude, almost dark red lipstick you stole - borrowed - from her. “Depends, who are you smooching?”

Throwing her an incredulous look, you hold out the two products on your palms. “I’m not smooching anyone.”

Unless of course Fred Weasley asks, if he does you would pull out makeup wipes from thin air and jump into his arms with naked lips ready to be kissed. Though, that’s only a fantasy and Fred is emotionally unavailable...scratch that, you are.

You’re not sure how tonight is going to end, and you can’t help but be aware of that looming clump of anxiety, clutching on your chest and refusing to let go until you're assured that it’s going to be fine.

“The gloss, just in case.” Aleyna stops your train of thought before it trashes off its tracks and crashes somewhere in Fred McDreamy land.

You nod, making no further inquiries and getting yourself ready as best as you can. Fixing your bodice and giving your scar a quick look, you finally hear the doorbell ring after a few long minutes, followed by Blaise’s deep voice greeting his girlfriend. You give the couple a few seconds to smooch - if you will, before walking back to the living room.

Blaise grins when he sees you, he’s wearing a sleek black suit with its first two collar buttons undone - you expect no less class from him.

“Happy Christmas!” you chime, pulling him into a hug and squeezing him tight just enough so you can whisper in his ear. “I hope you picked out the second ring, Zabini.”

Blaise swallows thickly before laughing, you know this because you physically feel him start to sweat. “I swear I did, don’t worry I have a plan.” he winks after letting go.

“I knew you were going to say that,” he loops an arm around Aleyna’s waist and pulls her by his side. “Only the best for my girl.”

Aleyna gives you both questioning looks.

You quickly clear your throat, “Anyways, let’s go before the serenading and the rose petals start.”

The three of you finally leave, the walk down your apartment building feels way too short, and the moment you exit you’re hit with the wonderfully chilly Christmas air.

For a moment, you forget where you’re going.

Lights are hung up everywhere, across shops, tangled through trees and some floating in the air. You can’t see the night sky, Diagon Alley has one of its own, adorned with radiant moons and luminous stars just bright enough for people to navigate themselves through crowds with zero accidents. It feels breathtakingly overwhelming.

Glass ornaments are charmed to fly across, a special show prepared by Madame Mulkin, and Mr. Eyelop tuned in by letting out a few snow owls rest around random trees to add to the warm atmosphere. There’s flavour wafting around the air, you inhale again to identify it better.

Speeding your way through - it hits you, gingerbread and chocolate.

You clutch your bag towards your chest, suddenly you feel disgustingly sappy. Though, you are in public so you decide to shake off that small warmth threatening your heart and continue walking towards Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.

The walk towards the shop feels too short again, you almost check your watch to see if Hermione’s playing with the time turner again.

You almost turn on your heel, dump the bundle of presents you’ve bought on their front door and leave. You can, in theory, you’ve separated from Aleyna and Blaise midway through and you can just run and never look back.

Tough luck, when you walk through the generously decorated shop and up the stairs, you’re disappointed to see their flat door wide open.

You stare at it, it feels too inviting. Frank Sinatra blares through the walls, you can smell hints of incense, trailing through your nose and tickling you, causing you to sneeze. You were always sensitive towards smells, and it never bothered you until now.

“Bless you!” George Weasley appears, rounding a corridor and greeting you with open arms into his neat dress shirt. He hugs you like you’re family, and if you weren’t holding a sack like Santa Clause with his your jolly ass hanging on by the mere piece of fabric of your dress you would have hugged back.

“Thanks, Happy Christmas George.” you smile when he takes the sack from your hands and weighs it with raised brows.

“You didn’t have to buy anything ____!” he pats your shoulder, hand trailing to your lower back to navigate you inside. “We are the gift givers, you’re our guest.”

You chuckle, walking through the long entrance corridor, “Of course I’m getting gifts you quack.”

George scoffs, “Using my words against me now are we?”

When you gaze up at the famous joke shop as a little civilian in the streets of Diagon Alley, you don’t expect to catch the sight of a flat this large. You knew it was sizable since two grown men somehow fit and live there, but you underestimated just how successful Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes was.

The floors are wood, clean with even several shoes stepping around, chattering with wine glasses in their wobbly hands. A bulletin board hangs next to a quidditch rack filled with different kinds of equipment - old and new.

Too entranced by the cozy interior, you don’t bother stealing glances at the bulletin board. The kitchen and living room are connected, yet they still somehow feel like completely different rooms. The den is lit up by a brick fireplace, lightly crackling and making the atmosphere all the more comfortable. The soft fur (faux you hoped, though Mr Weasley did have a muggle hunting rifle phase which you thoroughly discouraged) carpet tickles your ankles and you have to hold onto George’s arm for support

“Bevvy?” he offers you, holding out a pint beer glass and you shake your head, admiring the apartment further.

Most couches are leather yet they still look comfortable, the kitchen is big but not obnoxiously so, you can hear the clinking of a foosball table - commotion makes sense in their apartment - the wide living space narrows through a corridor, leading to what you assume must be bedrooms.

You’re glad Fred and Eva broke up, because you decide then and there that you’re going to visit the twins everyday despite your history, just to step into this apartment again.

“____!”

Angelina’s sweet voice causes your unease to vanish in an instant and you crush her in a tight hug.

“Merry Christmas!” you smile, looping an arm around her shoulder and letting her guide you through the flat. “You changed your hair!”

Angelina nudges you with her hip, “Thank merlin you noticed, George is clueless.”

“Oh? George? You never told me - Hey Cho!”

You’re cut off by several familiar faces greeting you and telling you to make yourself comfortable. And you do, right next to Hermione and Ginny, two pregnant and fierce women that keep bickering with their husbands because of their weird cravings.

“I’m with you on this one Gin’!” you snort, eyeing Harry. You have a wine glass in one hand and the power you hold makes you feel too confident. “If the woman wants sausages marinated with toothpaste, she’s getting sausages marinated with toothpaste!”

Harry grumbles, “Will you please stop fueling this!” he protests, downing his drink and banging this on the table. “Look sweetheart, you wanted onions and mustard just a second ago so I got you ‘em, what made you change your mind?”

Ginny bangs her fist on the coffee table, in addition to Harry’s outburst. It seemed everyone was banging stuff on tables, so you do too.

“You think I know? Sod off or get me my toothpaste!” Ginny yells, banging another fist after you.

Harry kneels down next to the foot of the couch and holds his wife’s hand, gently massaging her knuckles. “We can’t get you toothpaste,” he says calmly.

“Why!” says Ginny, banging another fist.

“I think you know why,” says Harry.

“Stop damaging my property.” says George, materializing out of thin air.

You feel bad for Harry, you truly do but it only lasts for a second because this is even more entertaining than watching Aunt Muriel try to play foosball while shouting ‘Come at me you haired back marys!’

You’re enjoying yourself, the buzz, the warmth, the scent of fire. It’s comfortable and not at all like a party. It’s as if you’re visiting your friends for thanksgiving, homely and welcoming.

Though, the first crack forms when you see Fred, eyeing you from the small bar of their kitchen.

Dressed in navy slacks and a red, turtleneck sweater, he leans against the counter with a glass of Firewhiskey clutched on his big hand. He swirls it as his lips twitch, keeping his gaze set on you. His hair falls on his eyes, mostly pushed back but how strong hair gel can really be?

He looks good, way too good for a party. But it’s not the outfit, it's his entire presence. The way he holds himself, acts, speaks - shit, it’s attractive. He can do anything and he’ll always have that charismatic charm, it makes you feel envious, not to mention incredibly horny.

It’s Christmas, it’s a sacred holiday. You can’t let Fred sexy Weasley get to you, no matter how unapproachable and out of your league he looks.

You’re the bigger person - apparently - and you decide to greet him first.

You don’t know what compels you to do this, but it must be quite a strong force because you feel yourself start to quiver when you abandon your place on the couch. It’s so strong that your wobbly legs carry you while you push through tipsy friends and hold you up all the way to the kitchen area.

“Merry Christmas.” you croak, pulling him in a quick hug which he returns happily.

“Merry Christmas yourself.”  he smiles, gaze drifting lower to your dress only for a second before he swallows.

His signature cologne that you’ve engraved deep in your head this past week bursts out again. You smile softly, relishing in him.

“You look,” he seems to be giving much more thought on whatever he’s about to say, he settles on; “Beautiful, you’re, uh - the dress.” he finishes lamely.

“Oh,” your face falls. The dress is beautiful, not you. Of course. “Thank you, I would say you don’t look too bad yourself but that would be a lie.”

Fred raises a brow, putting his wine glass on the bar with a clink before slowly turning on his heel. “Aw, cheers love.” he says casually, “Wore it for you,”

You raise both your brows, “Is that so?” you fight a grin.

“This little number is my lucky charm.” he smirks, pulling on his shirt. “Made women fall at my feet back in the day, maybe you will too.” he finishes, more bashfully than before. His cheeks are tinted pink and, now, for the first time, you feel clueless.

Your heart stutters when you speak, “Trying to butter me up Frederick?” you say shly, nudging the tip of his shoe with yours.

Fred winks. “And what if I am?” he suddenly straightens, arms folding together. His head bows as he continues with a smile, “I’m joking, got this a week ago for the party.”

You fight the urge to smile, “Ah, so not the chick magnet.”

“Well,” Fred laughs, “It’s still very wolfish.”

“Whatever you say, big ole pussy cat.” you pat him on the shoulder.

Fred scoffs good naturally, “Ah, you hurt my pride ____.”

When you don’t say anything, his gaze falls on you. He takes the time to look at you, really take you in and it makes your efforts feel appreciated for once. He takes a deep breath, head careening left for a moment.

“It’s not just the dress.” he rubs the back of his neck, eyes falling on your scar. “You really are beautiful.”

Your hand immediately flies to your brow, tracing a finger down the gash. It’s not as noticeable anymore and your hair grew back - thankfully - but the knowledge that it’s still there, parading itself to everyone makes you feel much more self conscious than you should.

Fred’s hand closes over yours and you freeze. “You might not think so, but not only is your scar a wicked bedtime story, it’s very attractive.”

Your ears feel hot, “You think I’m attractive?”

It’s a nice compliment - especially when it comes from a man like Fred.

“Do I think you’re,” he gasps, giving you an incredulous look. “Of course you’re - ! I mean you can’t be asking me that - are you, gah!”

A chuckle bubbles from your throat. It’s quite amusing watching Fred Weasley struggling to speak, clearly embarrassed. The knowledge that you made him this way, you were sleeping like a baby tonight that’s for sure.

“Look, ____. I actually wanted to tell you something really important.” he fidgets with his cuffs.

You furrow your brows, “Of course, what is it?”

“I used to, well I think I still do because it never truly went away but - okay, this is harder than I thought.”

You chuckle nervously. “Fred, you’re freaking me out here.”

You hear him mutter something along the likes of what’s wrong with me, until he speaks again.

“What I meant to say was, I wan-“

“Oh my god, ____, Fred!”

When you left your apartment a few days ago, your mind didn’t calculate the outcomes of meeting Fred Weasley.

The impact is so strong that it causes your past to - not flash, because this is painful - slowly start playing before your eyes, like a play you have to sit through because the seats were expensive, and the star of the show, the star of your own life is standing right in front of you.

She’s wearing a gorgeous, gold cocktail dress. The costume design is delicate, it’s the type of dress you flutter your fingers in (the fabric is ticklish and soft, you just had to touch it) before moving onto the next. The rack is full of other suitable options, because you know you can never wear a dress like that.

But Eva can. She was always gorgeous, you couldn’t compare.

Fred’s eyes are wide, the way he’s tugging on your dress makes worry wash over you. “Eva? Erm - who invited you?” His words sound more bitter than he intends them to, or at least you think so.

“Oh, is that how you treat guests around here?” she fucking giggles, playfully slapping his shoulder.

You can’t tell if she’s purposely ignoring you - you’re standing right there - or just forgot your existence after seeing Fred in those pants because sweet merciful heavens.

Fred shifts uncomfortably, “Right sorry well, Merry Christmas!” he’s back to normal, addressing her as he addresses anyone else you can’t help but smirk.

Of course, you immediately jump on this opportunity. Eva may have ruined most of your childhood, she may currently look gorgeous - mockingly so, but you’re not kids anymore. No matter how insignificant you feel, you still have your pride to protect.

“Merry Christmas,” you add, jumping forward. “How long has it been?”

Eva’s expression turns sour, though she conceals it quickly. “____! Oh I love your dress.”

She doesn’t wish you a merry christmas.

“Happy holidays Freddie! Where can a girl get a drink around here?” she squeaks? You’re not sure, her voice is too sweet and you don’t know how to act.

Fred grins, “Right there,” he points to a corner far away from the kitchen. “Lee’s in charge of drinks, I’m sure he can hook you up with something.”

Eva ponders, pausing for a beat. She’s expectantly staring at Fred, though when he shows no intention of accompanying her she gives you a menacing look and leaves.

You didn’t expect a big reunion because you saw Eva a few months ago at the hospital, you had sprained an ankle while training with Ron, and she tried to heal you before the Head Healer cut in and told her to take a walk.

Fred’s weight relaxes as soon as Eva’s out of view, it doesn’t take much to know something happened between the two - it wasn’t a harmless breakup like Fred had told you. You don’t push it though, if he wants to tell you he will.

“Well that was,” you say, and he hums in response, swirling his drink in one hand. You watch the gold hue with him for a moment. “Interesting.”

He snorts, “She drops by every Friday to give me green apples. I hate green apples.”

“How long did you guys date?” you can’t help the words that tumble out of your lips.

He stares at you for a moment, you swear his lip almost twitch in a smile before he clears his throat. “Three years, I thought I loved her for a year.”

“Well what changed your mind?”

Fred looks at you like you just asked the dumbest question a joke shop owner could hear. “You, daft idiot, you did.”

“Wha-” you stammer. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Fred groans. “I need a drink.” and with that, he leaves towards where Eva previously walked on her precious Chanel heels. Leaves you alone.

It wasn’t like you called the man's family a disgrace and cursed his entire bloodline. Confused, you decide that maybe you need a drink as well to survive this night.

Everyone you had talked to so far ended with a disagreement, except George because he probably felt bad for you and your huge red gift sack. Embarrassment fills your cheeks as you walk towards the beverage table, you shouldn’t have come tonight.

The cherry on top gets dropped on the shit sundae when Eva Burke bumps into your shoulder and causes you to spill your drink.

“Oops! Babe I’m so sorry,” She pulls a red cloth from the glass table filled with different types of intoxications and rubs it on the fabric of your dress, further ruining it.

Embarrassment turns into frustration, this turns into pure anger. You see red.

You snatch the cloth from her hands and lightly push her forward, Eva dramatically - and very theatrically - falls on the ground with a yelp.

“Oh get up!” you hiss, throwing the cloth on the ground.

Eva scrambles to her feet, holding her right ankle with dainty, perfectly manicured hands. “Oh, now we’re turning to violence are we? Some things never change.”

You let out a frustrated grumble, stumping your heel on the ground. “I really don’t have time for this Eva.”

“We’re just talking babe, I don’t understand why you’re so upset over this.”

“I’m not upset, I’m tired.” you sigh.

Suddenly with her magically healed ankle she trudges forward. “Is it the dress?” she pouts, bending down to eye the splotch on your chest. “I can pay for it, say...two sickles?”

Your eyes narrow, “How about this, you show me how your career is going and I’ll decide if you can afford a wash.”

Eva barks out a laugh, “How about this, I’ll show you a family picture album.”

Gasping, you hold back the urge to slap her. You never expected Eva to stoop this low, and you know you shouldn’t be upset over it but it hurts. It hurts how easily she can use your family against you with no remorse.

Beyond pissed, insulted and done with tonight, you pull out your wand and get ready to apparate. This time it’s not to run away, nor do you feel like a coward. You feel tired, using your palms to press into your temple and relieve your throbbing headache.

Eva grips your wand and tries to pull you forward with failed force. “Let’s get this straight, Fred’s not interested in you.”

“And you think he’s interested in you?” you laugh, “You broke up remember?

Eva flings her long hair back, “And I’m gonna get him back. No one breaks up with me.”

“So, you're still a narcissistic bitch.” you smile.

“And you’re still pathetically clinging onto whatever I touch.” She takes a step forward, and it hits you then and there that you aren’t going home sooner or later. “Wanna know why we broke up?”

You hold your breath, her perfume is too sweet and you can’t process her words.

“He caught me cheating.” she smirks. “And he still begged me to stay, after all that.”

Your nostrils flare, and you’re about ready to punch her. You’ve never seen someone so prideful, so proud to have done something so obaminable. But it doesn’t surprise you, you pity her.

“Some loser from the bank.” she mockingly wipes a nonexistent tear with her jeweled wrist. “See, that’s the difference between me and you ____. “

You almost scream bloody murder. “Oh do enlighten me.” Your voice is weirdly high pitched but you don’t seem to care.

“He begged me, not you. He’ll never want you. You’ll always end up with the leftovers ____, accept that.” she hisses, taking another step forward.

You don’t know what you’ve done to the woman standing before you with nothing but red fire in her eyes, she looks ready to pull out your hair follicle by follicle, yet it makes you smirk. With a shit eating grin on your face, it hits you. “I knew it.” you laugh.

Eva stutters, “What?”

“Why you’re actually delusional to think he’s taking you back.”

“Oh but he will.” she protests, stomping her heel.

“No, he won’t.”

When you see Eva stay quiet, you continue. ”You grew up spoiled rotten, your parents love you, hell my parents love you, you always had the most friends and always got your way.”

She smirks, you’re tempted not to continue but years of pent up anger is ready to burst through your chest. “Yeah, jealous are we?” Eve mocks, and you quiver as you speak. Stating the obvious doesn’t hurt you anymore.

“No, because you grew up thinking everyone will love you, no matter how wrong you are, or what horrible things you do, you’ll always think that people won’t stop being by your side.” you shake your head, tutting. “But you’re wrong. I guess that’s what too much love does to you - you think a simple sorry will fix what you did? Because no, it won’t.”

“Oh stop it, Fred wants me back, it’s painfully obvious.” Eva speaks, but she doesn’t sound sure at all.

“I’ll make it clear for you.” you smile. “Fred won’t take you back for cheating, you won’t get a second chance in your career, and you sure as hell won’t be getting an apology from me.”

By now, you don’t care who's listening, because they are. Oh, they’re eating this kitty fight up like free dessert Monday at Fleur’s. Your childhood friends are watching you with intense, widened eyes. And somehow, in a cruel, wicked way, you feel satisfaction. The harsh words slipping out of your lips like nectar, in comparison to the way they slap Eva across the face fills you with nothing but disgusting satisfaction.

Sure, it’s immature and yes, you could’ve worded everything much better to be even more impactful, but the way her eyes are bloodshot and vengenceful, it’s enough for you.

Eva grits her teeth, and you know she doesn’t have much to say. “I don’t need an apology from you, ____.” she speaks, and her next words cause you to freeze, because no matter what wrong doing, she’s still right. ”You’re right, I might not be forgiven, but in the end I will always be better than you. People will always favour me more and you can never change that.”

You try to lunge forward, teeth gritter. With harsh impact, you topple backwards. Strong arms are wrapped around your chest, holding you back from gouging Eva’s eyes out with the toothpick from the martini glasses.

“Nice weather we’re having,” Fred says, a deep rumble coming from his chest and against your back. You fight the urge to shiver, though you’re way too angry to be thinking of how good he smells. “Why don’t we sober up sweetheart.” he asks you, whispering.

“No!” you shriek, struggling to move forward. “This isn’t over until I break her nose!”

Eva laughs, “Oh come at me, babe! Let’s see what a traumatized neglected child can do, yeah?” her eyes flash.

A deep, growling of distress leaves you. “Oh let me go! Let’s see what a filthy adulter can do!”

“I didn’t mean to cheat you know!”

You groan, “Heaven’s above let me go Fred.”

Eva takes two steps forward before Lee grasps her arms. “But these things happen for a reason!” her shrill voice causes you to wince.

“Yeah, you!” you cry.

Eva shrieks, lunging forward in an attempt to reach you again, and at that moment Fred seems to have about enough.

“Alright, that’s it.” His stern voice causes you to flinch, muscular arms still holding you close to his chest, he yanks you backwards and starts walking towards the corridor. “That’s enough with the both of you, Lee take Eva outside, get her some fresh air.”

——————

Fred has the decency to take you to his bedroom rather than toss you outside like he had done with Eva.

If the situation was any different, you’d be over the moon right now. Alone? With Fred Weasley? In his big bedded, fireplace occupying, additional bathroom having bedroom?

Said situation did not have you sitting on a leather rocking chair, big mug of coffee in hand while Fred lectures you like a parent. Actually, you wouldn’t know.

You’ve been quiet for the past fifteen minutes, too scared to say anything and anger him further. You knew how much this party meant to him, and you had ruined it with your childish, pent up jealousy. It wasn’t just you per say, but you had let Eva get to you.

“Can’t the two of you act your age for one fucking second,” he groans, hand propped against the brick fireplace. “I know how infuriating she is, but you-” inhaling sharply, he strides towards you. “Say something will you?”

“Why didn’t you tell me she cheated?”

Fred’s expression softens. “What?”

You gulp, you shouldn’t have brought it up when he was agitated, but you can’t listen to him while the words echo around your head. You feel awful, insensitive, anything else to call yourself that makes you feel better towards your lack of judgement. “She cheated, you didn’t tell me. Why?”

Fred pauses, after what feels like a seconds he bends down on his knees in front of you while you watch him, engrossed.

“Been waiting for you to bring it up.” he chuckles, his smile disappearing in an instant. His ginger locks hang in front of you and you realize that his shampoo, like the rest of him, smells amazing. You fight the intense urge to card your fingers through.

“Merlin, I just,” he meets your eyes. “I felt ashamed.”

Suddenly standing up, your hands flail. “Why?”

Fred stands up as well. His stance alarms you, arms wrapped around himself, brows furrowed and defensive. “Not ashamed because of you, because of myself.”

You take a step forward when Fred indicates that he’s going to continue. “I thought you were going to judge me. Bloody coward, can’t even break up with his cheating girlfriend.”

You scoff, “Fred, I’ve known you since I was eleven. Sure we had some tough times but do you really think that low of me?”

Now he scoffs, it’s nothing short of mockery. “Tough times my arse. You avoided us like the plague, ____.”

“I had my reasons,” you raise your voice, wincing slightly and it only fuels Fred’s anger.

“Proper liar you are, you didn’t even write, or even just explain why you suddenly walked out.”

You don’t feel ashamed for what you did, it was for your own good. Though, Fred’s right. You never gave a proper reason other than those childish insults at Hog’s Head. But now, with your head banging, you can’t think logically.

“Again.” you grit your teeth, words spilling between like venom. “I had my reasons.”

Fred quickly stalks towards you, enough so you can reach a hand, grab his jaw and smash your lips against his. But you don’t. “Excuse me for not giving a rat's arse about your reasons, do you know how worried I was!”

His words pull a small gasp from your lips, you refuse to believe him. “If you were so worried, you could’ve spoken to me all those years. How about that summer huh? I stayed over.”

“But I did speak to you!” Fred shouts, and your fists clench. “You were a bitch to me, remember?”

Your groan is filled with contempt. “You take that back!” your fist lifts to smack him on the chest, and you curse his overwhelmingly hard and attractive biceps. Shit, you really shouldn’t be feeling like this during a fight.

“You wanna know why I did all that?” you cry out, tears ready to strain your cheeks but you won’t forgive yourself if you cried in front of him.

“Oh do tell?” he seethes, grasping your fist in a quick motion and holding it beside him before you can smack his chest again. “Merlin woman keep your-”

“Because I was in love with you, you dickwad!”

Fred freezes - second time that night.

Your heartbeat pounds against your chest, you feel vulnerable. Oh so vulnerable and stupid, you shouldn’t have said it.

Fuck fuck fuck.

You should have just kept your stupid mouth shut, dragged your stupid ass back home and took a stupid shower.

But it was too late.

Fred takes a slow step back, continued by several until he’s on the other side of the room with his arms propped against a wall, head hanging low. He’s breathing heavily, you’re finally crying.

“So you aren’t going to say anything?” you yell, stomping your heel on the ground. “Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you and Eva all those years, you wouldn’t even look at me.” you choke on your sobs, remembering everything. The painful memories, the emotions hit you like the Ford Angelia with Ron behind the wheels.

“The Yule Ball, I saw you two together. It hurt so much and I cou- umpfh”

You almost swallow your tongue.

Soft lips, those are the only words writing out in your mind. Fireworks erupting around the letters and causing shivers to run around your entire being. Taken aback, you can’t move until your mind processes that Fred Weasley is kissing you.

Fred groans, opening your mouth with his and grazing his tongue against your bottom lip. It’s so gentle that you doubt you feel it, until his hand grips the back of your head and presses you against him harder. Now you can taste the wet, warm feel of his tongue against yours, the certain flicks of the tip gracing your own.

He pulls back only slightly, panting against your lips and causing your breaths to intermingle intimately. “The Yule Ball,” he starts, going back in for another, hurried kiss.

“She told me, you - closer.” He yanks you in by your waist with his other hand, palm gripping your ass and kneading it with vigour.

“Told me she saw you with someone else,” he pulls you closer when your hands wrap around his shoulders. “It broke me ____.”

“Fred,” you sigh, gripping on his sweater tighter.

“That’s Freddie for you, love.”

Heat curls in your lower belly. His lips are on yours again, begging you for something you didn’t quite know yet. “Freddie,” you chant.

“That’s right.” he chuckles lowly, his rumbling voice against your chest.

You merely shiver, latch onto the tufts on his neck and anchor him lower to your lips until your lungs are overwhelmed with nothing but slow, languid kisses. Fred kissed really good - oh who were you kidding, he was the best kiss you’ve ever had. It’s addictively so, and you chase his lips when he pulls away.

“I,” he breaths, whispering. “I was so devastated by what Eva told me,” he hugs you tighter. “I loved - still love you so much, I didn’t know how to cope.”

“You love me?” Now, there’s more tears. You aren’t sure if they’re of pure joy, frustration or the ache between your legs. “For how long?”

“Since third year,” he murmurs against your cheek, breathing in your scent and shakily exhaling. “I still wear the bracelet, never took it off.”

“I saw,” you nuzzle your head in his chest, your heart feels like it’s about to burst. “It made me so happy, I thought you would have lost it by now or something.”

“Oh Flower, there you are hurting my pride again.”

The nickname knocks all the breath out of your lungs. You only hug him tighter, not daring to mention that throughout these years you flinched whenever someone said flower, or how you simply refused to visit any flower shop. Yes, it did cause problems during holidays and of course, funerals but at least your Disney gift cards contained sentiment.

“I wasn’t with anyone during the Yule Ball.” you mutter.

“I know.”

“Then why didn’t you come back?”

Fred shivers. “I didn’t know back then, Merlin if I had…”

“You’re an idiot.” you chuckle, hurriedly wiping away the drying tears from your cheeks.

“That’s right,” Fred rasps, pulling your face towards his. “I’m a stupid, stupid prat.”

That was, if the loud countdown roaring outside Fred’s bedroom door didn’t ruin the most pleasurable lips you were going to taste - yet again.

Your eyes widen, Fred whines and pulls you back into his arms but you’re already rushing to the closed door. “We’re missing the count down!”

“Oh come one,” Fred steps behind you, hand over yours to grip the knob. You struggle under his hold and try to turn it. “I’ll make you count, hop on the bed, love.”

You have to gulp down nothing but air to keep yourself at bay. God, yes, you would have shouted, stripped naked and let him have his way with you.

But you can’t, not with your friends right outside the door, slightly tipsy and merrily counting down from ten. Speaking of, they’re nearing seven - you have exactly seven seconds to push Fred off and throw yourself outside.

Six seconds until you turn the knob and ignore Fred’s protests, five until Harry and Ginny throw their arms around your shoulders, four until George decides not the comment on you and Fred’s flushed appearance, three until Fred does, two until you’re suddenly pulled forward - one, Fred’s kissing you in front of his friends and family.

Fuck.

It was that one, long second that Ron lets the confetti burst in utter silence while everyone stares at you. It’s a quick yet passionate peck - enough for couples to abandon their new year's kiss and focus solely on yours.

“Finally!” George yells.

Ginny cheers after his brother, “Took you ten bloody years!”

Last of the Weasleys, Ron, gapes. “When did that become a thing?” he mutters, completely oblivious but still happy nonetheless.

If Hermione and Ginny hadn’t swept you away, you would have spent your night glued to Fred’s side, demanding to show him off after all those years of pining.

Your two friends keep asking questions - not overly detailed considering Fred’s Ginny’s older brother. Your lips hurt from smiling by the end of your overly exaggerated story,

The end of the night brings tranquility over the apartment, after presents are ripped open and everyone says their goodbyes, you’re left alone the twins, helping them clean the flat with quick flicks of your wand.

Your watch reads one thirty, you need to leave soon. Aleyna and Blaise hadn’t shown, which only means the proposal was a success. You want to go home and congratulate them, but also spend some time with Fred.

Fred himself is busy wiping pint glasses and lining them neatly in empty cupboards. The both of you keep stealing glances at each other, and it would have been more romantic if George would stop scoffing whenever Fred bashfully smiled in your direction.

“____.”

You hum in acknowledgment, watching Fred’s back shuffle as he washes the dishes.

“Thanks for giving a hand, you didn’t have to.” George smiles kindly, hands tucked in his pockets.

You smile back, “Oh it’s alright.”

“I just wanted to apologize.” he looks down, it isn’t the dorky shyness George casually sports at times, he looks sorrowful.

“For what?” you ask, lips lowering into a frown to match his.

“For being a git all those years back. I was young and a shit head. I’m sorry.” he sighs, leaning his shoulder on the wall.

You chuckle, just the familiar voice of George resurfaces pleasant memories you wished you never forgot. “It’s alright, I’m over it.”

“Really?” he raises a brow. “Because I wouldn’t forgive myself personally. Go on, give me a smack or something.”

“I’m not smacking you George.” you say, you make sure your tone sounds playful to put his mind at ease. “We all had our issues, I probably should have talked to you guys instead of just storming off. Partly my fault.”

George smiles, “It wasn’t your fault, but I’m glad you can forgive me.” He squeezes your shoulder in a way to reassure you, while it feels like he needs it more. You nod fondly.

“And about Eva, we didn’t really like her, y’know. She told us that you needed space, and that we should leave you alone. Just now realizing how rubbish it sounds.”

“Took you long enough.”

He chuckles again, much more genuine like you prefer and pushes himself off the wall. “I better get some sleep,” he glances at Fred, “leave you two alone. And ____, please don’t distance yourself.”

“I won’t.”

Your lie slips so easily.

It’s the welcoming silence that accepts your doubts with open arms - everything was happening overwhelmingly quick, or was it just your fear of being left alone again?

You smile at George when he retires to his room, it’s more of a constipated grimace but George seems to have bought it.

You take this time to finally think, let your protective walls analyse what the fuck happaned in the last five hours because it was too good to be true. Fred couldn’t simply love you that easily, after everything he did. It didn’t explain why he started dating Eva without consulting you first, or how he was with her that night after the Yule Ball. If he loved you this much, why would he bury himself between her legs, abandon you in the hollow halls of Hogwarts? Why would he believe her so easily?

“____.”

Even his voice sounds distant. You can’t tell if it’s him speaking or your past.

“____, darling.”

Nope, that’s definitely Fred. His frustratingly sexy cologne is mocking you like every other amazing aspect this man has.

“Huh?” you snap out of your thoughts. “Oh, yes hello.”

Fred tilts his head to the side, expression softening the moment you speak. “You okay? Something on your mind?”

You tentatively shake your head. Fred sighs and reaches out to stroke your head - you close your eyes but the feeling of his calloused hands never show.

Eyes fluttering open, you realize your fears are coming true. He’s going to tell you that he changed his mind, that he doesn't love you and this is all a big mistake.

“Sorry,” he breathes, cheeks alight. You hold in your breath, ready to face the truth.

Fred’s silent; he’s doing that thing again. The thing where he somehow magically thinks he can communicate with you without saying anything.

“Fred,” you sigh, and his face drops. “Why did you date Eva if you loved me so much?”

There, you asked it. Because if you hadn’t, it would haunt you for the rest of your days, crawl around your heart like an infectious disease. You have enough of those, you don’t want another.

Fred breathing sputters, he looks at you like you know the answer. “Because…it was the closest thing to you I could have. I know it sounds awful-“

“Yes it does, and stupid!”

“I know!” he exclaims. “I didn’t know how to cope, she gave me the affection I longed to get from you.”

Your eyes start to swell, the sentence should make you remotely happy but it doesn’t. “Why did you stay with her for so long?”

“Look.” Fred cups your face, breathing heavily. “Yes, at first it was because I was petty. I thought you were with someone else that bloody night, I was heartbroken and needed a distraction. She was the closest thing.”

“That doesn’t explain the rest-“

“Let me finish!” He sounds earnest, adamant on wiping all your doubts and replacing them with nothing but his love. If only it was that easy.

“I can’t do this tonight Fred-“

“Please just call me Freddie.” he whimpers, kissing your cheek harshly. He stands there, face close to yours like if he let go you would leave.

I“I’m tired, I have a headache and my feet hurt.” you’re crying, again. Nothing out of the ordinary considering you’ve been doing it damn well for the last eight years.

“Stay over the night, it’s late. I’ll make you some chamomile, you always loved chamomile. Please.” Fred begs, lips against your cheek and you can feel the wetness of his own tears. His forehead presses against your temple. “Don’t leave me again.”

Your heart aches, it’s the most painful kind of hurt you’ve been dreading to feel again after all these years. This was worse than the neglect of your parents, the pain that night in the Burrow caused, watching Fred introduce Eva to his mother. This was why you’ve been avoiding him.

Because this time you know what to do, you know what’s for the best and it takes all of the protection you’ve built for yourself to push Fred off. Now, there’s none. Now, you’re standing before him, vulnerable and all your emotions on display.

“Goodnight Fred, merry christmas.”

This time, the door you walk out of feels much smaller and suffocating.

————

It’s ironic how the weather matches your mood for six days.

Saturday; clear skies with a blizzard hidden beneath the clouds. Aleyna’s engagement celebration. Show up with puffy eyes enough to make you blind, sit through nice dinner without crying, eventually start crying when she shows you the ring, act like you’re crying because you’re happy, get snot all over Aleyna’s ring, walk home while the storm finally presents itself and tells you that you’re a miserable piece of shit.

Sunday; small flurry. Spend your day weeping quietly and eating leftover takeout while browsing through your tv cable. Eventually watch a romantic movie, weep more.

Monday; cloudy, soft breeze. Cry more, hug your slightly overweight cat and get dragged outside by Aleyna because she figures out that you didn’t sob in front of an entire restaurant because your best friend was getting married. Sit at her bar, drink beer and stuff your face with cornish pasties while you tell her what happened, until you eventually pass out.

Tuesday; cloudy and dark. Spend your day thinking if you’ll ever be loved again. Regretful, pained, hungover and miserably under caffeinated.

Wednesday; crazy fucking blizzard that catches you so off guard you forget you ruined you chances with Fred Weasley for a moment. Aleyna tells you how stupid you are, you realize how stupid you are, then find out Aleyna is more of a snake than she lets on because she lets you eat a whole pack of doughnuts and that amazing Shepherd’s Pie her mom makes.

Thursday; clear skies. Not a cloud in sight. Your head is unusually clear, maybe too clear because you forget to feed Jambo and take out the trash. You think about running back to the joke shop, tell Fred you love him and that you don’t give a shit about the past anymore. But you don’t.

And now it’s Friday. You’re sitting on your bed, Aleyna in your closet, flinging clothes at you for you to try on because she insists you go out. It’s been a week since you walked out on Fred, again, and perhaps made the biggest mistake of your life.

“Stop wasting away your pathetic life here and do it outside!” she yells, voice getting closer when she comes into view.

“Aleyna, I’m really not in the mood.” you dismiss, laying back on your bed. “I just, should I go to him?”

Aleyna groans, pained. “Merlin forbid, this is the millionth time you ask me. I tell you yes, you don’t do it.”

“What if he says it’s too late, and it is! I don’t deserve-“

“Shut up. Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t. What matters is that you need to at least try.”

You need to at least try. Aleyna’s voice echoes around your head after she leaves and you're back to your routine. Get up, brush your hair because the tangles bother you more than you let on, (and sometimes your teeth, if you feel like it.) then stay in your pyjamas all day while lazing around your apartment. You’ve started making coffee for yourself again, which is a small step but still encouraging. Plopping down on your couch, you sigh. Jambo follows, leaving fur floating around the air in his wake.

Love To Love You Baby by Donna Summers plays softly in the background, your magic radio is mocking you yet again on how single and sad you are. Especially after how long it has been since you’ve had sex. It’s painful, but you can’t help but think of Fred whenever you try to at least relieve some stress. Of course, this ends with you curled in a corner and crying, it’s frustrating how much he turns you on, and now knowing you can never have him-

Jambo’s loud meow reminds you that you haven’t brushed him today and you slowly get up, striding to the kitchen. You try to relax your mind but your chest feels even tighter with your effort. Your house is an organized mess, you didn’t bother cleaning up throughout the stages of your grief.

You should talk to him. You should go outside, get fresh air, make out a game plan and at least talk to him. Fred’s kind, the funniest, most lovingly stubborn man you’ve ever met. He doesn’t deserve what you’re putting him through. You don’t want to leave things so bittersweet again, you want to keep seeing George, even Fred if time allows.

The pain of your past doesn’t allow you to follow your desires. You hate yourself for it and it’s only a matter of time before you break and go back to your old, quiet self. It’s as if the past got your wrists on lock, holding you back whenever you try to sprint free and love again. You thought Fred would have unlocked the chains and swept you away, but that was before you decided that he shouldn’t.

Gripping the fur comb on your left hand, Jambo watches you walk over to him with big eyes. He looks triumphant, lying on his chubby stomach and readying himself for the brush of his three year life.

Knock Knock

Perhaps this is why Jambo hates Aleyna. You chuckle. “Sorry Bo, give me a minute. She probably forgot her coat again.”

You put down the comb and rush over to the door. Not bothering to check through the peephole, you fling the door open while laughing. “Forgot your condoms or some-“

By the look Fred gives you, you’d think he hits it raw.

“Fred.” you whisper, frozen with your hand gripped on the handle.

He looks haggard, eye bags under his eyes with slightly damp hair sticking out obscenely from the sides. It looks longer, or perhaps it's the way he quickly runs a hand through it and smooths it back. You probably look no different, yet Fred still looks unfairly handsome, eyes dripping with honey and curved bottom lip tucked between his teeth.

Your heart hammers in your chest as you take in his appearance. He’s wearing a simple black pullover with a pea coat messily tucking in the material of his hoodie. You can see the after effects of the snow outside visible on his grey sweatpants, you can’t tell if he came to your house straight after working out for…however long he works out to have thighs like that.

“Can I-“ he gives you a look over and you blush. There’s a hundred different things you want to say, and you merely stay quiet and look at him with hopeful eyes. Coward. “Can I come in?”

You step aside wordlessly. He takes one, big step and he’s inside. Cursing his giant legs, you close the door behind him.

“Wow,” he clears his throat, looking around your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Thank you.”

Fred’s hand twitches when he hears your voice, as if he hadn’t heard it since he was a child. As if he was hearing it for the first time.

As soon as he steps in, his cologne engulfs the air around him - as if he’s marking himself in your house and leaving his delicious after taste. You would tell him he smells amazing but the air between you is too tense to say anything but;

“Fred I-“

“I wanted to-“

Fred breaks out into a smile, and you follow. It looks like a grimace, a hopeful one though. “I wanted to apologize.”

Your heart swells. You know it shouldn’t, because you don’t deserve an apology but the fact that he thought of you makes you feel like you have another chance. Of course you do, the poor man walked over to your house in the middle of a snowstorm. There’s got to be something there, right?

“Fred,-“

“No, let me finish this time.”

You stay silent.

“Been trying to think of the right ruddy words to say this past week but fuck that.” he growls, shrugging off his coat when you offer. “I’m not waiting any bloody longer.”

“I admit that at some point,” he starts, taking a deep breath. “I had feelings for Eva. That’s why I didn’t break up with her. It was well after three months of us dating and I thought I moved on.” you usher him to sit down, quickly following behind. Your legs feel wobbly as he continues.

“That’s why I didn’t break up with her, and I won’t deny that what I had with her was nice, but it wasn’t you. No one ever compared to you ____. I was fine until you decided to stop being our friend.”

“I didn’t decide that, It was something I had to do.” you defend fiercely, sitting next to him on the bar stool of your kitchen island. Damn rich apartments.

“I know that now, but at that time I thought you hated me. I clung onto Eva because I thought - seeing as she was your childhood friend - we’d be friends again.”

You scoff. “Look how that turned out.”

Fred raises a brow.

“Sorry, continue.”

“I started getting over it until that summer happened. It killed me to see you again, that’s when I realized I could never stop loving you. I blamed myself for everything, for fucking up all my chances even though I-“

You put a hand on his shoulder, “Freddie, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

Fred pauses, squeezes your hand and gives you a wide, hopeful smile that punches you right in the heart. His head dips down to rest on your shoulder and he sighs. “You called me Freddie.”

“I did.” you smile.

“I wanted to talk to you, but you kept avoiding me. With the war and everything I just couldn’t, especially after that near death thing.”

“Near what?” You gasp.

Fred chuckles, as if it was no big deal. It makes your chest ache. “I got trapped under a wall, Georgie saved me. Owe him my bloody life. Took me sometime to get over it though, those were the times I needed someone the most.” he takes a deep breath before continuing.

“It was around those times that I found out Eva cheated on me. She was acting dodgy the past few months, and I feel awful for feeling relieved when we broke up.”

“But, that’s not your fault.” you sigh, hand caressing his back gently. He relaxes at your touch and a smile tugs at your lip at this. “You don’t owe Eva a damn thing. It’s okay to feel like that, because I do.”

Fred laughs, a small melodic sound that brings you pride that you pulled it out of him. “Oh, is that how it works now?”

“Yep, I said so.” you give him a toothy grin, and he chuckles, further causing your ruin.

But you can’t let things get too comfortable, not before you’re completely honest with him. Here he is, vulnerable and open, telling you his entire life story and you sure as hell are going to do the same - minus some embarrassing parts.

“Do you,” you clear your throat, awkwardly shuffling on your stool. The seat is uncomfortable and it makes everything all the more frustrating. “Do you want to know what I was thinking before you showed up?”

Fred pauses, gaze lingering over your face attentively. Breath catching, you let him look at you. Directly, fully look at you. He flushes, quickly hidden away by his hand when he nods his head slowly and leans on his palm.

“I was thinking of you.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I was thinking if I should just go to you myself.”

Fred takes a quick breath. Shuddering because of the cold, surely, his tone is soft and barely above a whisper. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared you’d reject me. I was going to apologize to you, get on my knees and beg for forgiveness until you gave me a second chance.”

“Oh.”

You let him grasp your chin and turn your face towards his, he lovingly strokes your cheek, long finger somehow reaching easily. “I’m sorry Freddie, I love you.”

“I’ve waited to hear those words for so long.” his chest heaves when he responds.

“Well, how much of a let down is it?” you smile, nuzzling your hand in his palm.

He leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead, then to your cheek. “Let down?” he tells you, as if he heard the most obscene thing. “It’s so much better than I could have imagined, and I’m sorry too. I hate myself for letting you go through so much pain on your own. If I wasn’t such a clueless git I could’ve done this much earlier.”

“Do what?”

Fred kisses you. It’s not urgent, nor wanton, it’s soft and tender that still leaves you breathless. He leans his forehead against yours, and you ruin the kiss by smiling but he couldn’t care less. Opening your mouth, you let him flick your tongues together until it’s a sloppy, needy mess.

He groans, and that’s when you know the kiss progressed much too far to stop now. The needy ache between your legs pushes you to hover yourself over him, and his strong arms grasp you by the waist. His lips aren’t a perfect fit, it makes the kiss all the more pleasurable and it’s until he’s slowly walking towards your bedroom with your legs tucked around his hips that you break away.

“Fred,” you sigh when he sets you down against a wall. “I want you.”

He frowns, “It’s Freddie, how many times-“ he gathers your knee in one hand and pushes his crotch against your center with a grunt. “Do I have to tell you?”

You barely respond, clawing at his back. The curve of his thick cock gradually growing, his thighs encasing around your legs feels too damn good and you don’t know how long until you’re fully at his mercy. Fred roughly rolls his hips, a deep grumble leaving him and the stimulation is enough to make you whine. “Again,” you rock your pervis.

“Oh yeah?” he smirks, humping you harder. “You like this? How much? Let me feel.”

You rut against him desperately, trying to get off on the friction Fred barely decides to provide.

True to his word, Fred kisses you again with a groan, this time sparing you no tenderness and sucking on your bottom lip until it throbs. His hips continue to rut all the while his free hand slithers down your clavicle, down the sides of your waist - he makes sure to spread his palm wide to feel you everywhere - until he teasingly snaps the band of your pyjama bottoms. You yelp, relishing in his moans.

“If you like it so much- well shit.” his eyes flutter shut the moment he feels your slick from your underwear. “My love, you’re so wet that I bet I can taste you through your panties.”

If you weren’t wearing your yellow duck polka dot panties this would have been more sexier, and it takes Fred talking about eating you out to realize - oh my god, you’re wearing your duck panties.

“Fred, don-“

Fred has already pushed your bottoms down, revealing the abomination and further causing your face to feel hotter.

“Oh?” he smirks. “Sexy lingerie, all for me?”

You groan, hiding your face in his shoulder while he laughs at you. You feel his chest bob, and you can’t help but giggle alongside him.

“Now, strip.” he commands, and all the humor in the situation vanishes in an instant.

He lets go of your knee and you easily slip out of your bottoms, then slowly said polka dot panties. He grips your thighs, hoisting you up on his hips again and before you know it, he’s stumbling into your room.

His hand is cupping the back of your head, somehow gone there the moments he walked. You wouldn’t know, it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when the heat of his cock between your thighs feels like that.

Fred deposits you on the messily scattered forest you call your bed, and the smell of linen mixed with his cologne is enough for you to grind your hips on nothing.

Fred tuts, pushing a palm flat on your hip. He trails his hand between your legs and palms your pussy, bare. “Babe, you’re dripping. Since how long?”

You whine, “Since the moment you walked through - ah, my door.”

Fred’s eyes glaze over with nothing but dangerous greed. Dipping his knee on the mattress, he manhandles you into submission. “You think you can just get away with saying shit like that?” he groans, eyes fixating on wherever it lands on your body. It’s like he’s trying to take it all in, overwhelmed yet still wanton.

He shuffles to sit against your headboard and pats his large thigh, you waste no time crawling towards him. He quickly grabs your waist before you can approach him. Pulling you against him with your knees propped between his thighs, he’s face to face with your pussy and drooling.

“Such a sweet, pretty cunt.” he breathes, gently kissing your clit. You cry out, knees buckling but Fred’s large palms are flat on your ass and adamant on keeping you up and against his lips. Your center throbs, this is all you have ever wanted - the both of you have ever wanted and Fred has the audacity to tease.

“I know, I know.” He gently sushes. “I need to,” his head leans on your abdomen, desperate. “Need to get you ready for my cock.”

You barely nod, Fred seems to be in battle with himself. You don’t know which side wins, until he starts to suckle your clit with continuous, obscene kissing noises. You grip his shoulder, body bending in half. It feels so good, too good that you can’t hold straight. “Please - Fred,”

Gasping, your pelvis rocks forward. He keeps you still with his muscles digging in your hips, ass, back - everywhere he’s desperately roaming and memorizing.

His tongue finally darts forward - you knew that goddam tongue would be what did it - you nearly collapse, melting forward. It’s wet and warm and god - almost what you imagine his dick might feel like if it ever prods at your entrance.

He’s licking with bold, textured strokes. Your thighs are quivering, it’s the sudden brush of pleasure that meets your cunt every other second that causes this.

“Shit,” Fred pulls back, one hand holding your thighs wider. His thumb circles around your entrance and you cry out in pleasure. “My balls feel so fucking tight ____. If I keep this up, I might just come before I can put my dick in you.”

“Then - ahh Freddie!”

“Don’t get mouthy with me.” he smirks, sliding a finger inside. “I knew what you were gonna say before you opened that sweet mouth of yours.”

He fucks you like this, wet squelching noise mixing with your pants and moans. Working you open, Fred curls a finger inside and your thighs finally give out. “Merlin, you’re gonna get it,” he gives you a sweet kiss on the stomach. “I’m just as desperate to fuck you. Look,”

You do look, very gladly at that. He adds a second finger the moment your eyes fall on the wet patch of his bottoms. He’s rutting against nothing, all the while scissoring his fingers inside you - and from the look he gives you, you know he’s imagining what it's like to be inside you.

“Fred!” you gasp, rocking faster until your legs start to jerk and twitch. You don’t want to come yet, want to savor the way Fred’s fucking you with nothing but two fingers and it’s better than any sex you’ve had.

Your arousal pools between his fingers, dripping down his bracelet adorned wrist, all the way down to his veiny forearms. It’s a sight for sore eyes, Fred watches in a trance, gaze half lidded. You can see his cock twitch in his pants and he moans, “Fucking hell babe, look at the mess you’ve made.”

His thumb presses against your center with his two other fingers working, and he roughly drags it over to your clit to press. He’s licking again, slurping noises mixing with the pats of his tongue quickly dragging across your pussy.

That does it. Whining, and with quick breaths you hurtle towards such an intense orgasm that you swear you see Santa himself and his jingle fucking bells. It’s sudden and weakening, you barely register. Fred’s there all the while, desperately licking every drop of his hard work until there’s nothing. He groans and moans, like he’s having his thanksgiving now.

He’s not like a starved man, or any other cliche line you can think of. No, it’s like he has made a deal with the devil and is captured by the dark vitality of greed. He can’t stop, and merlin, do you not want him to.

“That was,” you breathe, taking a seat on his thigh when he allows.“That was the best orgasm I’ve had.”

“And that was the most gorgeous sight I have ever seen.” Fred smiles, it slowly turns into a smirk. The cocky bastard is way too proud of himself. He should be though, it’s been a while since you’ve had sex - if it always felt like this you would have never stopped.

But you know it never feels this good. No, it’s because of Fred. It’s him, and how much you love him, and how attractive he is - how skilled, amazing, passionate of a man he is. He’s perfect and way out of your league but you don’t care because he’s finally yours.

Said man is breaking out in a sappy grin, kissing your lips sweetly to whisper against them. “Get used to it.” He kisses you again. “I’m going to make you come again, and again, and again until you can’t walk.” he’s lowering you down onto your back, hands caressing your thighs.

“Really?”

“Especially now that I know how sweet and tight you are,“ Fred runs a finger through your pussy and you whimper. “How amazing you smell,” he dips down to lazily suck a hickey on your collarbone. “How soft your skin is,” his hands are lifting your waist up to unhook your bra. “How much I’m in love with you.”

Your gaze softens, and you let him undress you, bra after shirt until you’re left bare beneath. He shivers, his eyes are darting everywhere, to the curve of your hips, up your stomach - and finally, the slope of your breasts. He sucks in a breath. “You,” he rasps. “You had this bikini, that summer.”

“Wha- which one?”

“The white one.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

“We all loved that bikini, especially the days when the lake was particularly cold. Your nipples would be crystal fucking clear.”

You should feel embarrassed, fuck you really should but you knew what you were doing when you bought that bikini. That doesn’t stop you from acting clueless though, “Fred you big oa - oh!”

Fred dips to suck on your nipples, mouth wide open and hungry. “From that day onward, I fucking knew your tits were amazing.” he groans, gazing at them for a moment. “ Shit, was I right.”

You feel his clothed cock rub against you as he speaks - and it finally becomes a problem.

“A-ah, Fred. Clothes,” you barely gesture, though Fred understands you quickly. Sitting back on his heels, he swiftly removes his hoodie overhead.

Of course he isn’t wearing anything underneath.

Of course he has abs.

You curse under your breath - Fred’s chest is well defined, as you expected it to be. Well toned pecs, pert nipples hard and on display, golden skin stretching over his abdomen and six pairs of muscles you’d like to mark. He’s lean yet buff, corded well with muscle and now you know where those enthusiastic years of Quidditch have gone into

You reach for his arm, Fred quickly obliges and lets you guide his palm flat on your body. You breathe heavily - you love how you're he’s feeling you up like this. His hand lands on your breast, and he gives it a rough squeeze before rolling off the bed to get out of his bottoms.

“Are you trying to kill me, doing that? Huh?” he rasps, stumbling slightly. He swings his socks somewhere and gets back on the bed. “Is that what you want?”

When you don’t respond, he chuckles. Slowly, he pushes down his boxer briefs. It’s teasing, this motion. But then again, everything about Fred Weasley is.

His cock slaps against his abdomen - that’s how big it is. You feel yourself salivate, pupils expanding at the thought of such a thick, attractive cock inside you. You almost jump forward and sit on it but when you see the angry red color of his cock, the twitching of his head and the pre-cum that drips, it becomes clear how much he has been holding back.

Fred grips his cock and the head gushes slightly, you feel your cunt flutter. “Come here.”

You let him grip your body and settle you on his lap, entrance inches away from the head of his cock. You’re making eye contact, it’s almost intimidating how intense his gaze is. On your heat, breasts and fucked out face. “Merlin, I’ve been dreaming about this for fucking years. Let me,” he breathes. “I should just take a picture and stare at it all day.”

“Why take a picture when you have the real thing.” you smirk slightly.

Fred groans, “Ohh, you’re such a good girl.”

You smile, “Freddie, please get a condom. Flattery won’t get you that far.”

“Damn it.” he smiles jokingly, reaching for your night stand.

“Wait, shit.” you get off his lap and down your bed, legs wobbling a bit as you stride towards your dresser with hurried steps. Fred whines when you leave but you pay him no mind. “Been a while, here.”

Grabbing the pack, you stumble back on the bed and sit on your knees.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Fred nods his head. “Put it on, baby.”

You rip the packet open and slowly roll it on him, his cock is already wet and glistening enough for it to be quick. Your center pulses with want as you do this.

Fred pushes you down and crawls on top, centering his cock with your entrance. “No more,” he grunts. “Gotta have you now.”

Gasping, you feel him rub against you. He continues to tease, until the tip of his cock finally pushes past.

You cry out and glance down at where his cock bulges, it’s a type of pain you’d love to feel everyday. “A-ah Fred!”

“I know baby,” he whines, pushing further in with a quick thrust. He strokes slowly to work you open. You cry out, arousal gushing out.

“Such a sweet pussy, taking all my cock so well.” he kisses your jaw, feathering his lips around your throat and lazily sucking. “Feel so good.”

It’s true, it feels so fucking good that you can’t hold in your moans anymore. Not that you were trying to, but the desire to chant his name becomes reality when he rolls his hips against your center. He’s so close to bottoming out and the woozy cloud floating in your head grows. “Oh my god, don’t want you to stop.”

The stretch feels so good that you can’t help but clench around him, pain jerking your hips up.

Fred's balls deep in, his chest heaves and his eyes squeeze shut for a moment. He pauses, letting the two of you adjust to the euphoric feeling of his cock inside. ”Why the fuck would I wan’t to stop?” Your insides are throbbing, and you find yourself arching your back every time he gives you a sweet kiss on your chest. “Why would I ever stop. Shit, baby, I love you.”

“I love you too - oh!”

Fred withdraws, then slams into you with such vigour that you scream. Another shameful flow of your juices gush out as pleasure rips through you. He continues this, another harsh thrust into your cunt that makes you arch in pleasure. “Freddie!”

“Just like that.” he grunts, rolling his hips. “Love when you call me that.”

His hand hooks your leg around his waist, and he speeds up his motion, soothing the needy ache you feel.

lt’s dizzying, how good he can make you feel. Like you’re the center of the universe and all that matters is Fred fucking you open with sweet, yet untetheredly rough thrusts. It’s scary how lost you can get in him, and it becomes haunted when he captures your lips in a kiss and lifts your leg up on his shoulder.

“You’re so tight, oh fucking hell. Look at you, my goodness you’re absolutely perfect.” he murmurs against your lips, muting your moans.

“Fred! Oh god - ah!”

Your cries egg him on, he’s ruthless with the way his fingers dig in your ass to slam into you faster. The angle, his thick cock, how he’s biting down on your lower lip, you can barely take in. You feel helplessly at his mercy, and soon he’s fucking you too hard to keep kissing. “Easy, baby,” he coos when you squirm underneath him. “I’ve got you - my sweet little flower. Feel good?”

The question itself is clearly hysterical, your pleasure is etched on to your face and your thighs quiver underneath him. His mouth hangs open, eyes droopy, yet he still wears that infuriatingly attractive smirk. “Yes! Feel so good - ah you cocky bastar - umpfh!”

He drapes your other leg over his shoulder, your breasts bounce as his thrust turns more languid. Your back arches, mouth hanging open. “Oh my god - Fred!”

It feels so fucking good like this, so deep and good and - fuck, everything else other than him becomes a distant memory.

“Ahh - shit baby. Doing so good,” he grunts, his moans turn more high pitched when you meet his thrusts halfways. “Drown me baby, my flower takes me so well,”

Fred’s hand curls around the mattress as his other grips your thigh. He slams into you, stretching you out so good that your orgasm builds rapidly within. With your legs draped over his shoulder, he bends forward further until he’s sucking in your chest and leaving red marks. “OH - Freddie,” you whine, clawing at his back.

“That’s it my love,” he croons, head thrown back yet still adamant on watching you. His hands tangle in your hair, carding through and gripping them hard. “Come on my cock - make a mess of your sheets. Doing so well for me, wanna feel you clench around me.”

His face contorts in pleasure when your cunt does clench, hair draping over his eyes to cover his glazed, blown out pupils. Fred reaches between your legs to sweetly thumb your clit, squeezing it between two fingers and it’s the final straw until you break.

You arch in pleasure, shuddering violently underneath him. Fred’s letting you ride it out, finally gasping and his hands clench around your thigh and the mattress. Your hand finds his, interlacing your fingers together as you messily grind your hips and finally come down. Ropes of hot cum fill the condom around your sensitive walls. You tighten, aching a little from the warmth that you can’t feel directly from the plastic barrier.

Fred collapses on top with panting breaths. His head rests in the crook of your neck, arms wrapped tightly around your waist.

“Well shit.”

“Yeah.” you chuckle breathily. The post orgasm clarity makes you realize; fuck, I love this man way more than I let on. You suddenly feel the need to show him, and yet you settle for tenderly brushing his hair back when he lifts his head.

Fred smiles, grin lazy and sappy. After pecking your lips, he slowly pulls out. You whine from the sudden coldness when he rolls out of your arms, then he grins at your noise of distress.

“Hold on love, be right back.” Fred pulls off his condom, ties the top and tosses it to the trash before collapsing next to you - way more dramatically. His arm drapes over you, pulling you to his chest and pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I love you.”

You sigh, content. “Love you too,” you smirk. “Would love you more if you cleaned me up.”

Fred’s eyes flash dangerously. “Oh?”

“Not like that you idiot!” you smile, gently slapping his chest. “Swish your wand or something, I don’t wanna get up.”

“Hm,” he taps his chin. “Give me a tour of your apartment and I’ll think about it.”

You sigh, propping yourself on your arms. Fred whines and tries to pull you back in but you don’t relent. “Alright alright.”

Rolling off the bed, you rush to the bathroom, ignoring the pulsing soreness in your core. “Wha - come back! What about my tour?” Fred yells after you.

You laugh at his eagerness. “You’re not getting it!”

After cleaning yourself up, you practically hurl yourself in his arms. Fred catches you with something between a grunt and a chuckle, leaning against the headboard and letting you rest your head on his chest. Your eyes lull around, begging to give into your exhaustion. “Close your eyes, flower,” he whispers sweetly, gently running his hands across your hair and massaging your scalp.

The snowstorm outside has gotten intense, the wind howls against your sealed windows yet the world feels much brighter from this morning. It’s hard to focus on anything besides the way your heart flutters, and the feel of Fred beneath you. Snuggling closer, his fingers gently trace around your shoulders.

“Freddie?” you murmur, cheek pressed against his chest.

He hums in response.

“You’re staying over, right?”

Fred peers down at you, his brows are etched together and the concern on his face nearly makes you sob. “Do…do you not want me to?” he answers shakily.

You let out a breath. “Of course I want you to!”

“Good.” he smiles, letting out a bigger breath than you. For a moment, you think you broke the man. “Because you’re not getting rid of me anytime soon.”

[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.

[ray-ray-writings]

drabble idea: after Wilbur is killed by Phil, Fundy finds a smol arctic fox hybrid reader and cuz they're both foxes and the hybrid child looks abandoned, he adopts them. Then Ghostbur shows up and Fundy doesn't want him to have anything to do with his child. maybe some other relationships for fluff??? i'm just craving this rn -💍

So imagines won right? I sit down and go to write the imagine, and I just end up staring at a blank screen for what felt like forever. I know I said I would give you the option but I honestly couldn’t put anything in my brain for it. And because I spent so long staring at it, I lost a lot of time and so this is the only post for tonight…. I feel so bad. I’m sorry guys, I should have more stuff tomorrow. <3

TW: Parental abandonment.

This idea is so cute though. 

So we all know that Wilbur wasn’t the best father. He really messed Fundy up and gave him some of those good good daddy issues to where he has a hard time trusting people. But I think that he would be out on a walk, clearing his mind, trying to think of anything but his father. He’d be in a snowy biome when he hears footsteps. At first he thinks it’s a mob of some kind, so he draws his weapon and creeps toward the sound. He catches sight of something white and at first he thinks it’s a skeleton, but then the thing moves again and he can very clearly see it’s an ear, a white fluffy ear… That’s odd. “Hello?” he finally decides to call out. There is a small squeak and a lot of rustling. When he wasn’t attacked, he figured it safe to move forward. He carefully approached and as he pushed some of the bushes out of the way to reveal a small child. In one quick glance he could tell this was no ordinary child. It was an arctic fox hybrid, the fluffy white ears and tail a dead give away. In his glance, he could also tell this child was in rough shape. Their clothes were tattered and torn allowing him to see just how skinny they were. His heart ached for the poor child, “Hello little one,” he greets softly, “What are you doing out here?” 

You’d been on your own for a really really long time now. Your parents had brought you out here, told you to stay put, and left. You listened and so you waited for them to come back. But as the days went on, you began to understand what had happened. But nevertheless, you sat there and waited. Munching on the berries of the bushes, but it never quite fills your stomach. One day as you’re moving from bush to bush, a voice calls out. It startles you and you can’t help but let out a squeak as you fall to the ground in surprise. The bushes shuffle a bit and from over the top you find an orange headed man peering at you curiously. His eyes scan you quickly before he speaks, “Hello little one,” his voice soft and comforting as he speaks, “What are you doing out here?” You give him a little shrug and allow yourself to look him up and down. You’re heart thuds a little faster as you notice that he is also a fox hybrid with orange and black ears, an orange and white tail, and sharp canines poking out from his lips. “Where are you parents?” he tries again. Again, you give a little shrug and figuring you can trust this man, you speak, “Gone… Let me here.” His heart breaks at your sad and defeated tone. “They left you here? All by yourself? When did they leave?” Another shrug, “Two… three….. Weeks.” you mumble, looking down to the berry bushes, your fingers grazing them carefully. Fundy’s heart burns in anger as he thinks about how horrible your parents were for leaving their obviously amazing child to die in the woods. He’s about to speak when your stomach grumbles loudly causing you to flush in embarrassment. “Hungry?” Fundy asks, then mentally smacks himself. Of course you’re hungry your stomach just rumbled. But you nod sheepishly, still plucking at the leaves. “How would you like to come home with me. I can fix you up some fish. I have lots of fish at my house. You could eat as much as you’d like and you could stay as long as you want.” Not even caring if this guy was lying to you, you accept his offer, simply desperate to get out of the woods. Your head slowly rises from the bushes as you stare at Fundy who is smiling at you ever so softly with an outstretched hand. Carefully you raise your own arm and gently rest your hand in his, shivering at the warmth that spreads throughout your palm. “Let’s get going then kiddo.” 

Fundy leads you out of the forest and towards his house. As you two walk, you two talk… Well he does a lot of the talking and you give small answers here and there. You tell him your name and he tells you his. He talks about where you’re going and how it’s extremely safe there and how he thinks you’ll like it. He leads you inside his house, sits you at the table, before making up some fish for you and him. He places the plate down in front of you and before he can sit to eat his own meal, yours is finished. To say he’s shocked is an understatement, but he quickly remembers you were out in the forest all alone for two to three weeks, maybe longer with nothing but berries. You’re looking at him super embarrassed, like you want to ask for more but are too scared too. “Hey, it’s okay,” he soothes, walking back over to you, setting his own plate down in front of you, picking up the empty one, “You don’t have to feel bad. Like I said, I have plenty of fish, eat as much as you like.” And so you do. You eat until you’re so full you can barely move. Your eyes are sleepily closing and then jerking back open as you try to force yourself to stay awake. Fundy notices this and laughs quietly to himself. Your eyes close for a little while, giving Fundy enough time to put his plan into action. He quickly stands up, moves to you, picks you up, and carries you to his bed. He carefully lays you down, tucks you in, and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “Sleep well darling,” he mumbles, not thinking much of it. “Thanks dad” you mumble back, clearly out of it. But the simple word stops Fundy’s heart before a huge smile grows on his face. He decides that he wants you to be his child, if you want. He can feel a connection and a strong desire to care and love for you and he wants to be that strong father figure that he himself did not have. The next morning when you wake up, you don’t remember what you said obviously. You also plan to leave and go back to the forest. You would thank Fundy for feeding you but you already feel you've overstayed your welcome. You make your way down to the kitchen, ready to tell the man who saved you, who you don’t want to leave, goodbye. Fundy is standing over the stove and at the sound of your footsteps his head turns and he grins brightly at you, “Hey kiddo! Have a seat! Eggs are almost done! I hope you like them scrambled!” Not wanting him to feel bad, you do as you’re told and decide to tell him after breakfast. True to his word, the eggs don’t take that much longer and soon he’s served you some eggs. You two eat together, talking a bit about how you both slept and stuff. And after you’re done, you’re just about to tell him but then he begins to tell you about his plans for the day and asks if you want to tag along and you do. You really do. It is then you decide that you’ll stay until Fundy asks you to leave, and if that means you’re staying forever… So be it. 

Okay on to some more general headcanons and less plot type stuff haha

You two help each other in grooming your ears and tails all the time. I feel like they can be hard to get perfectly clean by yourself so you two do it together as a bonding activity. You would do Fundy’s first because it takes less time. Fundy does a lot of it and you just get the hard to reach spots and stuff, and makes sure there is no spot left unclean. However, when it’s your turn, Fundy takes complete control. He will make you just sit there and let him groom and take care of you. He is so careful as he does it. He cleans your ears and your tail carefully, making sure no dirt is left. And then he takes the time to carefully brush out the hair and make it very soft and very fluffy. It feels so nice. I would imagine you didn’t have the nicest parents, they literally left you in a forest to die, so you never got this special treatment or attention for your ears or tail. So the first time you two did this, you would be so confused. You didn’t understand what was happening or why you were being treated so kindly, which broke Fundy’s heart. I feel that’s also partly why he doesn’t let you help because he wants to make sure that you know that you will be loved and cared for as long as he’s in your life. 

So that being said, you two are so affectionate with each other. Like you curl up together and cuddle on the couch all the time. It has a lot to do with the fox side of both of you. It feels really nice to be pressed against family of your own ‘breed’ so to speak. A lot of the time it’s a lot of you sitting on his lap or laying on top him while he holds you tightly. Again, he wants to make sure that you feel loved and wanted. 

I feel like it wouldn’t take you long to call him dad. Like you accidentally did the first night, but you weren’t really awake for it. But I do feel like it would be a slip of the tongue on your part again. Just he does something for you and you give a quick “thanks dad” before you dead stop and stare at him. His eyes are also wide and filling with tears. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to call you that. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. It just that you have taken care of me from the moment I got here and I--” Fundy would cut you off by pulling you into a tight hug. “It’s okay Y/N. It really is. It would be an honor if you called me your father” he tells you. Your heart soars in your chest as you hug him back. “Okay… Thank you dad.” You two go to sleep that night with the biggest smiles on your faces that you’ve ever had.

…….. Speaking of dads….. Ghostbur comes back. One day there is a knock on the door. You’re both confused because no one should be coming over to your knowledge. But Fundy gets up and he opens the door and his confusion turns into anger. “What are you doing here?” He spits out. You slowly make your way to the front room, hiding behind a wall but peeking your head around the corner to see what was happening. There in front of your father stood an extremely pale man in a yellow sweater and a red beanie. “Hello Fundy!” the man greets, oblivious to Fundy’s harsh tone, “I came to visit you! I wanted to see my son!” A gasp catches in your throat, this was your dad’s dad. He hadn’t told you much about him, he just told you that he used to be close with his father but as he grew more obsessed with politics, that bond broke bit by bit until it was completely severed by his death. “Well that sucks because I don’t want to see you. Go away now” Fundy snaps back, waving him off. Ghostbur catches his harsh tone now and a frown settles on his face, “Fundy please. I want to talk. I want to mend what was broken. You’re my son and-” “And nothing. You should have thought about that before you went and blew up our nation and then got stabbed by grandpa… So goodbye now.” Fundy moves out of the doorway and goes to close the door. When he moved out of the doorway though, he accidentally gives Ghostbur a direct line of sight of you peeking around the corner. He lets out a gasp and points, “Fundy who’s that.” Fundy looks over his shoulder and pales a little but because oh fuck. This is the last thing he wanted to happen. He clears his throat and looks back to the ghost of his father. “That’s Y/N… My kid” “I have a grandchild?” “No you don’t because you are no father of mine. Now if you’ll excuse me” and before Ghostbur can respond, Fundy has slammed the door closed. You’re a little worried as to what he’s going to say to you so you speak first after you walk all the way in, “I’m sorry” you whisper. “No, no, no baby. It’s okay. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it.” The rest of the day, Fundy is a little off. He tries to act normal but you can tell something is off. You don’t call him out on it though, you just let him do him. 

But yeah. Fundy does everything in his power to keep you away from Ghostbur. He does not care a single bit if Ghostbur isn’t Wilbur, they were both still his father that practically abandoned him and so therefore he will not be around his child. His child will only be surrounded by those who love them unconditionally and will always love them. If you and him are out and public and Ghostbur appears, Fundy will take you back home. He doesn’t care if what he is doing is super important, he will leave and take you home. He also will not let Ghostbur in his home. Ghostbur does show up occasionally, hoping to catch another glance of you, but Fundy barely opens the door to the point where Ghostbur can hardly see him. Fundy will let Phil, Techno, and Tommy see you occasionally which hurts Ghostbur a lot, but there is nothing he can do about it. Fundy does not want his ghost father to be anywhere near his child. 

But Fundy would be an amazing father. He knows what it’s like to be/feel abandoned by a parent and to feel ignored in a world full of family. So he makes sure you never feel like that. He loves you so much and makes sure you know that. Fundy would do anything for you, give anything for you. He loves you so much. His precious baby child. 

Okay that ending sucked lololol. Again, I’m very sorry that this is the only post tonight. I got a much later start than I planned and it fucked everything. I’ll see you guys with more content tomorrow though (hopefully).

[mysticalrambling]

Hey there hope you are doing well🥰🥰🥰Saw you were open to blurb request...can you please write a fluff related to my second steve rogers x reader story...where the reader forgives steve after his tiresome efforts to win back his family..Like can you write about how a domestic sunday willl be in their lives Steve's, reader's and Ollie's? how they will enjoy breakfasta and Steve enjoys the day with his wife and son❤❤❤

A/N: This is basically an alternative ending to Regretting his Decisions. The original one basically ended in all angst so I hope you guys like this as well. It is totally different from the first one. Just something new :)

Regretting His Decisions (S.R)

Steve Rogers AU (Fan fiction Masterlist)

Summary: Steve and reader come together after she forgives him for all the things that he had done in the past. Now, they are spending a Sunday together with their son, Oliver. It is all fluff.

Warning: None. Fluff all the way.

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There were times when you thought that you shouldn’t have forgiven Steve because society thought that you were in a toxic relationship. They thought that he shouldn’t have come back into your life as he chose Peggy. But Tony told you the real reason. Peggy had hijacked the time machine and Steve had to spend his whole life in the past to rebuild that time machine. That’s why he didn’t come back to you.

However, Steve came back to you like he promised he would. He got Scott to help him reverse the past and become his old self. He was going to choose you and that’s what mattered the most. Your husband knew that the things he did in the start of your marriage were cruel and he didn’t deserve you. But he had suffered a lot and he was truly in love with you. That’s why you gave him a chance. You deserved to be happy as well and your family needed a proper chance.

At first, your interaction was just limited to Oliver and you lived separately even though you knew the truth. It was hard to forgive him for the things he had actually done like belittling you or abandoning you. But as time progressed, you saw how he was with your son and how he treated you with nothing but respect.

Steve gave you as much space as you needed and he was there for you when you needed him. He was there when your library burnt down during a fire hazard. He was there to console you when your parents suddenly died in a car crash. He was there when Ollie broke his arm while playing football. He was always there and that’s what got you to eventually open up to him. You finally asked to try again and for him to move into the house. Your family was happy and that’s what mattered. Other people can go to hell.

“Stevie, mommy needs pancakes.” Your three year old was sitting on the counter with his legs swinging back and forth. He was currently arguing with his father about your breakfast preference because apparently he knew you better than your husband.

“No, Mommy loves waffles. You want pancakes so you’re telling me to make them.” The little boy had been up for the past two hours because he had a nightmare. He always wanted to cuddle with his father afterwards and now, he was angry. “I’m your dad, buddy. Not Stevie.”

“But Mommy calls you Stevie.” He whined as he jumped in his place. Steve was quick to hold him in his place before he could fall. Oliver was never afraid to get hurt because he healed too quickly. The serum running through his veins always made him feel like a super hero. In a way, he was but Steve was always worried about him.

“She can do that. Not you.” At this point, he was just messing with his son.

“I can, Stevie.” Oliver asserted his point.

“Okay, buddy. Can I call you Ollie then?” This was going to get interesting, really fast.

“No! Mommy calls me that name only.” Giving him a pointed look, Steve laughed out loud. “Okay, daddy. I get it now.”

“Good boy. Now, let’s start making the breakfast.” Tying an apron around himself, he started taking out all the ingredients.

It was Sunday so you didn’t have work today. You always slept in late on Sundays and Steve always made sure that you got your much needed rest. A twelve hour job and a hyper three year old sucked out most of your energy so he didn’t like to disturb you for anything. Morning breakfast was your family’s tradition.

Steve didn’t know how to cook properly but you never complained. His burnt french toasts are better than any five star chicken steal and that was saying a lot. You loved him too much to ever say that you didn’t want to eat the breakfast made by him. It was such a sweet gesture that you teared up whenever you saw them entering the room with a tray in their hands.

“Baby, you have to hold on to the vase tightly.” Your husband’s hushed voice filtered through the door and woke you up from your deep slumber. Footsteps echoed through the wooden floor and soon the door opened.

“Mommy!!! Look I made you breakfast.” Jumping on the bed, he completely forgot about the vase of pink flowers and dropped them on the bed.

“Oh, thank you, baby.” Oliver’s knee accidentally hit you in the stomach and knocked the breath out of your lung. Gasping, you slightly cradled your child, “Be careful, bubs.”

“Sorry, mommy.”

Laughing, Steve corrected his son, “Oliver, we both made the breakfast and I did most of the work.”

“I beat waffle mixture.”

“You dropped it all on the kitchen counter. Not the same thing, baby.” He got up on the bed but still was not a match for his father’s height.

“I made it. I’m better than you.”

Interrupting them before Oliver truly got angry, “My baby is better than everyone. Stevie, don’t tease him.”

“’kay, darling.” He raised his hands in surrender and joined you both on the bed.

Steve was thankful for his little family and he tried to spend every waking moment with them. He didn’t want to miss the special moments so he made sure to take time off from missions. Nothing was more important than his family. There was still regret in his heart for treating you like crap in the early years of marriage. He would never forgive himself for the heinous acts that he committed. He will spend every moment making it up to you.

Finishing the breakfast with a lot of teasing and jokes, you went to get ready for the day. Meanwhile, your husband took Oliver to his room and gave him a shower. Oliver was a total boy in the sense that he ran away from the idea of shower. Only Steve could make him sit in a tub long enough to actually bathe him and by the end of it, no one knew who actually showered. Steve would emerge out of the washroom with water dripping down his hair and drenched clothes.

Today was no different. ”Help this little devil with his clothes while I go change.”

“Aw. Thank you, babe.” You tried to hold in your laughter when you saw his condition but you couldn’t help it.

“Next time, you’re doing it.”

“Sure sure.” Pecking him on the lips, you went into Ollie’s closet. He always said this but he was there to take your son before you could even think about taking him to shower. He would never admit it but he liked this chore. It was a bonding time for him and Oliver.

For today you all agreed that it would be best to just relax around the house. With the upcoming Hydra missions, the media had been loitering around your house to have an interview with Steve. You both decided that the best way to attain some privacy would be to stay home.

“Incredible, please!” The little boy sitting on your lap looked at you with puppy dog eyes that you didn’t have the heart to refuse.

“But we have watched that movie a hundred times.” Steve whined from his place on the couch.

“Not a hundred times, daddy. Just seven times.” Counting on his fingers, he showed you both eight fingers instead of seven.

“That’s eight fingers, baby.” You put one of his fingers down and squished his cheeks. He was too cute for his own good. “And we can watch it one more time but that’s it.”

Steve knew that he would be outnumbered in this match so he just gave up. At this point, he knew the dialogues by heart. But he preferred this over being lonely. He stocked up on all the snacks a day before so you were all set for a movie marathon. It was going to be really fun.

In between the movie, Oliver made you sing all the songs and you all cried when Mufasa died. Even Steve had slight tears in his eyes. Fate was cruel to the Lion King and he could never think of leaving his family alone. It was too much but then the happy ending always brought him joy. This movie truly was a true roller coaster.

“I wanna watch Boss Baby now.” The little boy demanded as soon as credits rolled in.

“Okay, boss.”

“He truly is the boss, isn’t he?” You looked down at the snuggled up child on the couch.

“Yes, he is.” Ruffling his hair, Steve gave his son an adoring smile.

The whole day, you kept going through movies that were demanded by Oliver and around five, you all fell asleep on the couch. It was a really good nap and you woke up before both your boys. You made them dinner because you wanted to eat proper food. Steaks and broccoli was the best option so you went with it.

“You made dinner?” The two hands snaking around your waist startled for you a second but you relaxed when you heard his voice.

“Yeah. Got up before you guys so just thought to start working on dinner.” You kept your hands on the side of his face while he nuzzled his face in your neck. He was extra clingy today and you loved that about him.

“Okay, I loved spending time with you both today.”

“We both did as well. I love you.”

“I love you too.” You were interrupted before you could kiss your husband.

“I’m hungry!” Oliver came waltzing into the kitchen and Steve picked him up.

Both of you looked at each other before saying it together, “We love you, Ollie.”

“Family hug!” Your son was demanding and you both would never deny his wishes. Your family was too cute and you loved them too much.

Hope you guys enjoyed it!!

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A/N: Tell me if you guys enjoyed it. I am open to blurbs and requests so feel free to send in asks. Love you guys!! And tell me if you want to be added to my tag list.

Tag list: @peculiarpenman, @kalopsia-flaneur, @justile, @agnesk, @caanyoonmoon, @nostxlgia18

Like, comment and reblog.

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[justkending]

Moral of the Story. Chapter Six.

Summary: Marrying too young out of highschool leads to a naive and failed marriage. Now 10 years later, word comes that the divorce was never actually completed. Bucky and Y/N have to come back together after all these years to settle what wasn’t all those years back. Passive attitudes, miscommunicated endings, and reminiscing of old loves and lives all comes back for the two.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/N

Word Count: 3700+

A/N:  Tags are closed for the rest of the series!! Please turn on your notifications if you want updates:) Also, this chapters a good one;)

Chapter Six:

That night, Y/N had plans with Wanda and Vis to go out and get a drink. However, when she called to double check, they asked if they could reschedule for another day. She told them that she was actually planning on staying a full week from Monday and that anytime that week would work for them. 

So she spent the afternoon hanging out with Chloe who came home in the late morning. They went shopping in the art district and caught up over coffee before going thrifting and heading back home before dinner. 

Once dinner was over, where Sherri, Thomas, Chloe, and Y/N hung out as a family, the parents went to bed early and Chloe went over to a friend's house to hang out again. Leaving Y/N by herself reading a book on the back porch. 

After reading the same page for the 10th time, she let out a huff from not being able to still her mind from the events of the morning. 

She looked over at the clock, seeing it was only 9:00. But in her head, it was six. She bit her thumb as she stared at the clock ticking away with each second. After about 14 tiks, she rolled her eyes before going upstairs and changing. 

Maybe a night in town by herself would be nice. She noticed there was a bar Wanda and Vis had mentioned that was next to where they planned to eat and figured she deserved a drink after today. 

So she put on a pair of nice jeans and a simple t-shirt with an old jean jacket that was twice her size from highschool. She fit into a little better now, but it was definitely still giant on her figure. Grabbing her dad’s car keys, she made her way to the mystery bar. 

______________

Upon arriving at the bar, she realized it was a Saturday night, so it was busier than she had planned. 

She found a seat at the bar and ordered a local beer before scanning out the place. 

It was nice. Not really a dive bar, but an actual nice bar. There was still a pool table and a little game spot to the side, but there were booths full of people eating and talking, and even a DJ with a small dance floor on the other side. 

It was a neat little place. Nothing special, but they seemed to know how to make a good drink given the reviews on the menu they proudly displayed from past customers. 

Y/N was going over the menu having finished her last drink pretty fast, but before she could even read the second option on the menu, a familiar voice sounded behind her. 

“Well, looky here. If it isn’t Mrs. Barnes herself.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows turning at the comment and instantly, her eyes widened. 

“James?”

“Hey, sweetheart. What are you doing here?” he sauntered to the empty barstool by her. She noticed a weird sway in his walk that helped her put two and two together that something was off with him. 

“I’m getting a drink,” she answered confused, lifting the beer bottle in her hand. 

“I thought you didn’t drink,” he slurred. “And a beer, hmm? I figured that if you ever did start drinking, it would be the fruity stuff,” he chuckled, leaning his head in his hand that was propped on the counter. 

She paid no mind to his thoughts and shot him a glare. “Are you drunk, James?”

He pouted his lips and shrugged with an ‘I don’t know, am I?’ look on his face. It quickly dropped and turned into a smirk as he readjusted in the seat. 

“You know, I hate that you call me James now,” he huffed, swiveling in his seat to face forward at the bar. 

“It is your name,” Y/N shook her head with a sigh. Lord this was going to be interesting. She looked around trying to find Steve or Sam even. “Are you here by yourself?”

“It’s only my name to people who don’t know me. My friends call me Bucky and you’re my friend,” he pouted again, but wasn’t looking at her. Only swirling the amber liquid in the glass tumbler she realized he had in hand now. 

“Friend’s a stretch,” she mumbled, taking a long swig of the new drink. He didn’t hear her though. She looked around a little harder and couldn’t find any sign of someone they knew. “Really. Are you here alone?”

“Yes, and so are you,” he noted, finally turning to her. 

“Yes, but I’m not plastered.”

“Give it some time and you could be,” he winked. 

She shook her head watching as he almost slipped from his chair. 

“Ja-”

“Please don’t call me that, doll. I don’t have it in me to hear you make me feel like a stranger,” he mumbled flagging down the bartender. “Can I get another one please?” He asked, raising his now empty glass. The bartender looked at him with a judging eye, and Y/N jumped in before he could possibly say yes. 

“A water. He’ll have water instead,” she smiled softly. “Please and thank you.”

“Got it,” the bartender nodded before going to get him a glass.

“That’s not what I asked for,” Bucky groaned. 

“We don’t always get our way, do we?” Y/N sighed, taking a long pull from her own drink. When she finally pulled away, almost emptying the glass, she noticed Bucky staring at her. “What? What are you looking at?” she said, slightly off put by the longing look he was giving her without even trying to hide it. 

He broke when he noticed her giving him a weirded outlook and stood up. 

“I need to go to the bathroom.”

Without a second for her to react, he stood up quickly and walked to the back where the restroom signs hung above.

The bartender came back a minute later and slid the glass of water across the counter in replacement to the empty tumbler that he took back. 

“You know that guy? Is he bugging you?” he asked, looking at Y/N who was now holding her head in her hands. 

“I do. He’s an old family friend,” she answered looking down. “Can I get another?” she asked, shaking the now empty beer bottle to the man with a small pleading smile. 

“I can get you something stronger you know? I feel like you may need it,” he said, and she noticed his tone had changed from just a server to something a little more flirty. His smirk giving away his intentions. 

I mean, he wasn’t a bad looking guy. He was a young, probably early 30 year old guy, who for sure made time in his schedule to go to the gym. He had a clean shave, showing his sharp features too. 

“Is it that obvious?” she chuckled, sending him back a small smirk of her own. 

“You look a little strung out,” he chuckled, going to get another drink made up without her having to say yes. 

“Saying it's been an eventful day, would be putting it lightly,” she sighed loudly. 

The guys nodded his head in understanding and smiled as he shook up a new concoction. He poured in impressively into a glass and placed a cherry and lime on top before handing it off to her. 

“On the house for that one then,” he winked. She smiled, adding a hint of flirtatious eye contact to the man, might as well. She was single… Kinda. “Hey, we make a mean batch of shredded chicken nachos too if you're hungry. I might be able to get you a discount.”

“Oh, I’m actually-,” she started, but was quickly interrupted.

“She’s vegetarian,” Bucky practically growled at the man behind the bar as he took his seat back. 

“Oh,” the guy said, taken aback. 

“He’s right, but thank you for the offer,” she smiled politely before sending Bucky a glare. Unfortunately he didn’t see it as he was sending a glare of his own to the man on the other side of the counter. 

Knowing Bucky would make matters worse, she decided to move on from the bartender for the moment. 

“I’m so sorry about him,” she scoffed, placing a hand on Bucky’s shoulder to bring his attention back to her and deter his evil stare from the innocent person. “I think I’m going to get him home actually.”

“I’m not going home yet,” Bucky spoke up, being ignored by the two anyway. 

“Probably a good idea,” the mystery bartender man nodded before looking back at Y/N with that flirty grin again. “Listen, I don’t know if you’re here very often, but I’ll be on shift tomorrow the same time if you wanted to drop by. Maybe I can get you some of our famous fries instead,” he winked, leaning more her direction. 

“That actually sounds nice,” she began.

“Well, I hate to break it to you sir, but she’s married,” Bucky said with a deep voice almost perfectly sober now. 

Y/N shot him wide eyes and saw that any form of drunkenness was hidden in that moment. He had become a big alpha male right there and was showing he was not one to mess with. Was he seriously jealous? Of a man offering her a drink and fries?

“James!” Y/N smacked his arm. 

“What? Am I wrong?” he responded, a hint of anger in his response to her as his eyes showed pain when he made eye contact with her finally. 

“Yes! Very!” Y/N responded. 

“On the contrary, I’m not,” he said, taking a step closer. 

The two were now chest to chest as he looked down at her and she looked up at him. The tension high and their eyes staring into the others soul. Anger and hurt in both their stances and stares. 

“I need to go help another customer,” the bartender spoke up awkwardly. 

Y/N broke from the stare down and sent him an apologetic look. Bucky was still looking at her as if his eyes were magnetically attached to her face. 

“I’m so sorry,” she paused looking for a name tag and seeing Bradley inscripted on a metal plate pinned to his shirt. “Bradley. I don’t know why,” she hissed looking at Bucky for a second who rolled his eyes at her before she turned back. “He’s acting this way.”

“It’s fine. You guys have a good night,” he waved off with a kind smile before sending Bucky a weary look and going back to his job. 

Y/N took a deep breath before turning to Bucky who was still inches from her and looking down at her. His face was stoic and grumpy. 

“How did you get here?” He didn’t answer her harsh tone. “James, how did you get here?” she said, this time leaving no room for silence as she gave him a death glare. 

“I drove,” he answered deeply. 

“Give me your keys,” she laid her hand out in front of him. 

“No.”

“Stop acting like a literal child and give me your keys.” The stubbornness between the two only grew as the other refused to break. “Fine, don’t give me your keys. I’m driving you home either way.”

“I’m not ready to go home,” he slurred some. His facade of trying to cover his drunkenness was fading as he eased up on trying to intimidate someone now. 

“Well, I say you are. Come on,” she rolled her eyes, taking his hand and dragging him to the door. 

“Hey!” he fought back, but she was walking too fast that his alcohol soaked brain was only focused on not tripping and couldn’t work on stopping himself. 

“God, you are a mess. Can’t do anything without fucking supervision,” she mumbled once they were outside.

“You have a mouth on you,” he said as he crossed his arms and waited for her to fish out the keys.

“Yeah, well, some of us have changed since college,” she retorted.

“I’ve changed,” he said softly. 

“You sure as hell aren’t acting like it,” she said through her teeth, frustrated in not finding the keys fast enough. 

“Do you only remember our bad moments? Is that all you allow yourself to think of?” he shot back, but she ignored him and opened his door before moving to the driver side.

The car ride to Bucky’s shared apartment with Steve was filled with tension. Bucky sitting like a scolded child on the side while Y/N was the parent furious with him for causing a scene in a public place. 

“That Bradley guy flirts with every girl that walks in there,” he mumbled about 5 minutes into the drive. He didn’t get a response. When he looked over to see if she had reacted at all, all he saw was a bitch face on her that was focused on the road ahead. “He’s kinda a dick from what I’ve heard the girls say about him that go in and out.”

“Are you there that often that you know the waitstaff's dating profiles?” she sassed. 

“No, I’m just saying from what I know, he doesn’t deserve you.” He had said the last part so softly, that if the car wasn’t as awkwardly quiet as it was, Y/N wouldn’t have been able to make it out.

She turned to look at him finally and saw him with his head propped against the glass of the window. He was avoiding eye contact and had opted to watching the city lights pass by for the rest of the car ride. 

Y/N wasn’t sure how to respond or if she even should. What was the point anyway? He wouldn’t remember any of this in the morning and she wasn’t supposed to care… At least that’s what she told herself. 

She was able to get to the apartment after Wanda sent his and Steve’s address thankfully. 

“Ok, we’re here,” Y/N parked in the front of the apartment. 

It was one of those buildings that looked like a house in a neighborhood where all of them were side by side going up 3 floors. But in their case, each floor was a different flat/apartment. It was updated and in the nicer part of town, so clearly he and Steve were well off. 

From what Wanda had said, Bucky was on the top floor and Steve was renting out the middle floor within the next month. So he had been crashing at Bucky’s until the lease for the current tenant was up and the space was open. 

“Thanks,” Bucky groaned. He had sobered up some from the drive, but considering how far gone he was earlier, he couldn’t be that much better. 

He opened the door and sloppily got out of the car almost tripping on the curb and stumbling to the steps.

Y/N groaned leaning forward and hitting her head on the steering wheel by her hands. 

“Don’t do it Y/N. Don’t do it,” she repeated, but when she looked back up, he was sitting on the middle of the steps with one hand rubbing his temple. “And you’re going to do it…”

She got out of the car and came to the front of him. Her anger had dissipated some and now she felt pity for the poor guy. 

“You good?” she asked, and he looked up with her in surprise. 

“I got a little dizzy,” he answered before going back massaging his head. 

“Need some help?” she sighed, offering her hand. 

He slowly raised his eyes to look at the gesture before looking at her.

“Why are you being nice? I’ve only been a drunken dick to you tonight,” he groaned, taking her hand anyway. “I’m surprised you didn’t dump me off and speed away.”

“Yeah, well. We’ve all been dicks at some point. Doesn’t mean we don’t deserve a helping hand here and there,” she nodded as they walked up the steps. “What button do I push?”

“Last one on the right,” Bucky said, putting his head back down as he stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned on the door for support from the world spinning around him. 

She did as told, and the button let out a blunt ring as it called the floor above.

“Hello?” a voice replied. 

“Steve? It’s Y/N,” she answered. 

“Y/N? What are you doing here?” Steve asked in shock. 

“I’m delivering you your drunk best friend. Mind ringing me up?” she answered in a tired tone. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah! One sec.” The bell sounded, giving the two access to the unlocked door now. 

Bucky rolled away from it as Y/N opened it for them both and they started their way to the nice elevator off to the side by the stairs. 

Once the doors shut, Bucky looked over to Y/n who had been avoiding eye contact the entire time. He finally took in her presence and noticed she was wearing one of her favorite jean jackets from highschool. One that he had actually gifted to her. He chuckled a little at it as it still hung loosely on her even after all these years. 

“What are you laughing at?” she asked.

And when he met her eyes, he didn’t see the harsh bite back that he had received most of the evening. Instead, there was a small sense of amusement in her question. 

“Nothing, just the jacket,” he pointed. 

She looked down as if she forgot what she was wearing and then it registered. 

“Right, you gave me this for one of our anniversaries,” she chuckled some. He hadn’t heard a genuine laugh from her this entire day. Sure it was the smallest and diluted chuckle ever, but It sounded nice. 

“Still have the patch?” he asked. 

She pulled it away from her body some and looked in the breast pocket, nodding. 

When he had got it, it was nothing special but an older, worn out, and thrifted jean jacket. But to make it special, he found a little iron on patch of the world to put inside the pocket. He had told her that she always had the world in her pocket with the light that she was for it. She would and could do just about anything to make a room and this entire planet light up just by smiling. 

Bucky couldn’t help the goofy smile that came across his face knowing she didn’t rip it out in spite at some point in all these years. That jacket had a little more meaning to them then just being a shield from the brisk air. 

Once the elevator reached the floor, Y/N motioned Bucky out. 

“I don’t know where to go from here, so I hope you’re sober enough to point me the right direction,” she smirked playfully. 

Bucky returned it, not wanting to chance taking away the civil actions happening in the moment. 

“Right,” he agreed, coming out and making his way down the new hall. “Steve,” he shouted loudly. Lucky for them, they had the whole floor to themselves. 

Steve’s head poked out of the door less than a second later. 

“Hey,” he said with a confused face that was attempting to be covered by a kind smile. 

“I’m going to go inside before I made more of a fool of myself,” Bucky mumbled, pushing past Steve who moved to the outside of the hall. “Thanks for bringing me back, Y/N,” he said with a tight embarrassed smile. “Sorry for being a dick again.”

Not that Y/N would have said anything back, but even if she had, he stalked away with his head low and disappeared into the apartment before she would have a chance. 

“Do I want to know?” Steve sighed. 

“Uh, even I’m not too sure what went on tonight,” Y/N responded, putting her hand in the jacket pockets and rocking on her feet. 

“Do I need to apologize for his actions?” Steve chuckled, looking down at her bashfully. 

“He’s a big boy Stevie, he can take responsibilities for his actions,” Y/N chuckled back. 

“Right. You would think he would act like the grown man that he is, but it looks as though we were both thrown for a loop tonight.”

“Guess so.” 

“Hey, Wanda told me you’re here for the week now. Your travel plans changed. Are the rumors true?” Steve asked, moving the subject away from the awkward one. 

“Uh, yeah. I was going to text you tomorrow morning, but looks like I was beat to the punch.”

“Well, we’ll all have to hang out soon then. It’s been too long,” he winked. The two gave each other a quick hug, but Steve didn’t let go and looked down at her. “How are you doing? Clearly the other part of this equation isn’t doing too hot,” he noted, looking in the open apartment door before back at her. 

“Seems we are handling the second part of this divorce a little different than the other, but I can’t say it’s been fun,” she responded, following his eyeline. “Uh, listen. I hate to see you for like two seconds after all this time and split, but I’m kinda beat from the day.”

Steve pulled away and patted her back nodding. 

“No, no. I completely understand. I know from experience, drunk Bucky isn't an easy one to take care of. Plus... Everything else on top of that.”

“Yeah...”

“You go ahead and head home. I’ll call you later to set up a time for the team to meet and catch up. Sound good?”

“Sounds like a plan, Cap,” she winked. 

He rolled his eyes with a smile before waving her off. “Want me to walk you down?”

“Nah, I parked right out front. I should be fine,” she shook her head as she headed back for the elevators. “Um, his car is still at the bar by the way. You may need to go pick it up tomorrow. I didn’t want him driving home, given his state.”

“Thank you for that. I’m sorry again,” Steve grimaced. 

“Don’t apologize, just uh… Just get him some advil and lots of water. I’ll see you later.”

“Will do. Bye, Everest!” he bantered back with her own nickname. 

“God, haven’t heard that one in years,” she laughed before the elevator doors shut. 

With a heavy sigh and lots of thoughts on her mind, the car ride home felt like it never happened. 

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[hotpinkhoshi]

kiss it better | five

pairing: mark tuan x reader

genre: angst, eventual smut, brother’s best friend au (sort of)

warnings: tw for death, death of a parent, reference to drug addiction

word count: 4.5k

summary: you were off limits for more reasons than mark could count. but everything changed for him the day you walked into his tattoo shop with those big innocent eyes and a laugh like his favorite song. he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. and yet…

a/n: hi babies thank you for your patience, i know it’s been many many months since i’ve updated! the last time i posted for kib was all the way back in may, which is crazy, i know. but life has been weird and it’s been difficult for me to find the motivation to write. it’s slowly coming back for me and i’m so glad you guys have stuck around with me even if i haven’t been consistent. i’m more grateful than you know!

✩ index here ✩

“She did what?” Dahyun asked, her bite of gimbap nearly falling right out of her mouth. 

Youngjae threw his head back and broke into laughter entirely at Mark’s expense. 

Mark ran his tongue over his teeth and refused to look up at his friends, focusing awfully hard on the sketch he’d been working on in between appointments. He quickly realized that they had absolutely no sympathy for him. 

“Yeah.” 

It had been two weeks already since that night, and Mark was just now feeling comfortable enough to spill what had happened after he took you home. He liked to take his own time to process his thoughts before he revealed them to others, and quite frankly, he hadn’t even wanted to tell anyone. But he was starting to think maybe he needed an outside perspective. 

“She has guts,” Youngjae said, after finally pulling himself upright in his chair. “Was it good?” 

“Dude,” Mark warned, far from amused. 

Dahyun cut in. “It’s a good enough question. From what I’ve seen, you guys have some intense sexual tension. If the kiss was hot, maybe it’s worth exploring.” 

“We don’t have sexual tension,” Mark defended. 

Youngjae snorted. 

“Sure. But, let’s say if you did, and the kiss was good…” Dahyun trailed off, wiggling her eyebrows. 

Groaning, Mark tapped the end of his pencil against the desk. He glanced up at the wall, his eyes naturally drawn to the photo of your shoulder, of the tattoo he’d designed and permanently inked onto your skin. It wasn’t the only photo he had pinned up of his previous work, but it was the one he looked at the most. 

“She’s a kid,” he said, little to no conviction in his voice. 

But you weren’t a kid. Mark knew in every way, you were an adult. Even mentally, emotionally, you seemed more mature than he felt most days. Packing up your belongings because you refused to live a life you weren’t satisfied with? He couldn’t imagine anything more grown up than that.

“Mark,” Youngjae’s tone was firm, serious this time. “It’s not the worst thing in the world if you have chemistry with someone. I know it may not be the most convenient girl for you, but… you’ve been by yourself for a long time. You can’t tell me you aren’t lonely.” 

He hadn’t thought he was lonely until you came into his life. He had been fine, so fine, living on his own. Waking up alone, eating dinner alone, focusing on his work and living one day to the next. 

But now, he looked forward to the sound of your keys in the door when you got home from your evening shift. He bought your favorite brand of orange juice instead of his. He didn’t mind watching outlandish and obviously fake reality shows if it meant that he got to hear your commentary along with it. More than anything, he’d gotten used to the way you made him feel. In the simplest of terms, he was happy. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Mark said. “I already fucked it up.”

Dahyun narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?” 

He rubbed some of the tension out of his forehead, relaying the conversation he’d had with Taehyung that night to his friends. The exchange wasn’t longer than a few minutes, but it was long enough for Mark to potentially ruin everything you’d built for yourself in the last couple of months. 

“I didn’t tell him everything - I couldn’t do that. But I told him I’d seen her in the city, that I thought maybe she worked in one of the restaurants near the shop…” A knot of guilt coiled in his stomach. “Fuck.” 

He’d just wanted to do the right thing. You were young, you couldn’t see that your parents cared about you. Taehyung cared about you. They deserved to know where you were, especially after everything they had done for him. He could at least point them in the right direction. 

“Well, shit,” Youngjae offered, a sympathetic frown on his face. 

“I fucked her over, and I haven’t been able to look her in the eye since. We’ve just avoided each other for the last two weeks and I-” Mark heaved a breath, leaning back in his chair. “I hate it.” 

He missed you. Even if he couldn’t say it out loud.

“I have an idea,” Dahyun said, her whole body perking up. “Don’t look at me like that, sometimes I have good ideas. Why don’t you invite her along for Yugyeom’s camping trip?”

“You mean the couple thing?” 

Dahyun sighed. “It’s not a couple thing. It’s just… everyone there is part of a couple. Anyway, it might be a good way to make things less awkward.” 

Mark blinked a few times, waiting for Dahyun to say ‘just kidding’ because it was an absolutely ridiculous idea. “What? How would that make things any less awkward?” 

She shrugged. “I mean, it’s a great opportunity to break the tension. If you know what I mean.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Mark scowled. 

You spent your entire shift thinking about Mark. Thinking about how you had completely messed up your relationship, and trying to figure out how to fix it all. It had been a stupid, drunken mistake, and you would take it back in a heartbeat if you could. 

The past two weeks had been torture, tiptoeing around and trying your hardest to avoid him. You’d picked up extra shifts almost every day, figuring that if you were working, at least you didn’t have to pretend like everything was normal. 

All you wanted was to come home, curl up on the couch with Milo and watch your favorite ridiculous TV shows while Mark snickered next to you, entertained by the disgustingly wealthy families on the screen no matter how much he pretended to hate it. You wanted to be able to lean into him, feel the body heat radiating off of him when his shoulder brushed yours. 

You missed Mark. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud. 

After much debating, you decided that the best way to apologize started with food. And you owed him, anyway, after he opened his home to you and let you stay there free of charge. A dinner was the least you could do. 

You could tell once you walked into Paradise Tattoo just before closing time that Mark hadn’t been expecting you in the slightest. He was at the desk, going over papers with Dahyun, when the bell dinged to signal your entrance. 

In his ripped jeans and muscle tee, all of his tattoos were on display for you, even the large quote he had inked onto his ribcage. You gulped and shoved your feelings down. That would only make things worse. 

“Hi,” you said, greeting both Mark and Dahyun. 

“Hey.” Mark scratched his head and straightened his posture. “What are you doing here?” 

“Well,” you started, wringing your hands in front of you. “I wanted to see if you wanted to get dinner? On me. I owe you, anyway.” 

Dahyun piped up, a mischievous smirk on her lips, “That’s a great idea. Mark was just talking about how hungry he was.

Mark cleared his throat and shot his co-worker what looked suspiciously like a glare. “No, I’m fine. You really don’t have to-” 

“Come on,” you said, hiding a smile. “How about burgers? There’s a good place around the corner. It won’t kill you to let me pay, will it?” 

You could see Mark weigh his options as he chewed his lip. Either end up hungry, settling for some quick frozen food later on, or bite the bullet and let you pay for his dinner. You knew it would hurt his pride to do so, but you wouldn’t back down. It was more than just the free room and board that you wanted to make up for. 

“Alright,” he finally agreed. “Let me grab my stuff.” 

It only took less than ten minutes for you to walk down to the burger place, but it felt like an hour as awkward silence hung around the two of you. It wasn’t until you were both seated at a corner booth inside the restaurant that you finally spoke up. 

“Listen, Mark,” you said, looking up from the packet of ketchup you’d been nervously squishing between your fingers. “About that night…” 

“No, you don’t-” Mark was quick to interrupt, but you held your hand up. 

“Just let me, okay?” You sighed. 

You’d rehearsed these words countless times in the bathroom mirror, and right now it felt like they were slipping right out of your fingers. Where were you supposed to start? With the kiss, straight away? Or getting so drunk that you’d needed to be taken care of in the first place?

“I’m just… really sorry. I was stupid to drink that much and it’s not your job to watch after me. I should be able to take care of myself.”

Mark stopped you again. “I didn’t mind taking care of you.” 

“But it’s not your job, Mark. I’m an adult, and you’re letting me stay with you and asking for nothing in return. The least I could do is make it easy on you.”

“Y/N, if you could have seen me at your age, you wouldn’t feel so bad. We all get drunk and stupid sometimes,” Mark said with a shrug. It almost relieved some of your guilt until you remembered the kiss in the bathroom. 

“Well...” You shook your head and looked back down at your hands. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for this one. “I really shouldn’t have ki-” 

“Hi! My name’s Lana, I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you two something to drink while you look over the menus?”

A cheerful brunette appeared in front of you, a pen behind her ear and a wide grin plastered on her face. You glanced at Mark, then up at your waitress, not sure if you were grateful for the interruption or not. 

“Um, can I just have a water?” you asked, voice small and uncomfortable in your throat. 

“Same for me,” Mark agreed. 

“Perfect! Let me know if you have any questions about the menu!” 

You let out a long breath before you were able to look at Mark again. He was biting his cheek, his lips all twisted and holding back a laugh. 

“What?” you asked. 

“Her timing,” Mark got out, just as he let go of his laughter, throwing his head back. 

To your own surprise, you found yourself shaking with laughter as well. Either from Mark’s contagious laugh giggle or the simple ridiculousness of the situation. Here you were, in a burger restaurant, apologizing to your older brother’s best friend for kissing him while you were heavily intoxicated.

You covered your face with your hands to suppress your own laughter, letting your back slump against the cushions of the booth. It all came to you then, just how silly you’d been the last two weeks. 

“I am sorry, though,” you said, after you both settled down. 

Mark’s eyes glinted as he watched you from across the table, the ghost of a smile still on his lips. “It’s alright. I mean it. Last time I was that drunk, I’m pretty sure I ran around the block in my underwear singing the Canadian national anthem.”

You giggled again at the mental image. “What? How did you even-”

“No idea. It’s like I was possessed by a drunk Canadian mischief demon.” 

It was strange to imagine Mark and Taehyung in their teen years, since you’d been so young at the time, you could barely remember anything from that time of your life. You remembered Taehyung wearing the same pair of purple skinny jeans for three months because a girl at school had told him she liked them. 

You remembered Taehyung letting you sit in the basement in your favorite cushioned chair while he and Mark played video games on the big screen. It had been your favorite place to read then, tuning out the rambunctious cries of defeat while you got lost in other worlds. 

“So we’re okay, then?” you asked, after Lana had come back to take your order and left once more. 

Mark nodded, a genuine smile on his lips. “We’re okay.” 

“Maybe it’s weird, but…” you began, staring down at the wrapped silverware on the table instead of looking Mark in the eye. “Even though I grew up seeing you as Taehyung’s friend, that feels like a lifetime ago. And now I just kind of see you as… my friend. Like somebody I can trust.” 

When you finally looked up at Mark, his expression was unreadable. His bottom lip was between his teeth, but his eyes looked somewhat uncomfortable. You worried for a second that you’d crossed a line. 

“I owe a lot to your family,” Mark said after another long moment passed. 

Even though you didn’t remember much about Mark from your childhood years, you knew his upbringing had been rough. His parents had been addicts, the kind that never should’ve been together, let alone bring a child into the world. 

You’d never met his mom, but your own mother had made enough snide comments about her after Mark had gone home for you to understand just what kind of person she was. 

“One of those low life, worthless drug addicts. Sleeping around with anyone that can help her out, if you know what I mean. Never should’ve been a mother.”

She had a funny way of showing her compassion sometimes. 

Taehyung brought him over once after school and your mother had gotten one look at his threadbare clothes and hollow cheeks and taken him in as her new project. At first, he ate dinner with your family almost every night, and then she started making Taehyung pass over his any extra clothes he’d gotten that didn’t fit properly or that he simply didn’t like.

Mark did owe a lot to your family. 

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so young there was no way you could take credit for anything your parents had done for Mark, but still, you itched to comfort him. Even now, with the unsaid words lingering in the air, you sensed that he had never been able to fully open up to anybody. Though you didn’t deserve it, you wanted to be the first. 

“Your mom,” you found yourself saying. “Is she…?” 

Mark shook his head. “She’s gone. Passed away a couple years ago.” 

Your face fell. If anything, you had expected her to have taken off for good or maybe gotten into some trouble she couldn’t get herself out of, but you hadn’t expected her to be gone. 

“Oh, god, Mark. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

To your surprise, he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “I hadn’t seen her in a long time before that. Maybe two, three years. Then my aunt showed up on my doorstep with a box of her things and told me she OD’d in a gas station parking lot a week before.” 

His voice wavered only slightly, but enough to tell you he cared more than he let on. You could only imagine how painful it would be to hear of your own mother’s passing a week after the fact. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again. 

Mark shook his head. “Don’t be. It’s weird,” he said, tongue running over his lower lip as he paused. “I’d stopped seeing her as my mother so long ago that… I felt like I’d already mourned her death. Fuck, that sounds bad, doesn’t it?”

“No,” you answered as you reached across the table, fingers laying across the back of Mark’s hand. “It doesn’t. At all.”

A moment passed between the two of you. You caught Mark’s eyes glancing down at your hand resting on his skin, but he made no move to avoid your touch. 

“I never even went through her things. The box is just sitting at the back of my bedroom closet collecting dust.” 

“Do you want to go through her things?” you asked. 

Mark paused, chewing at the inside of his lip before he answered. “I don’t know.”

You nodded, somehow understanding exactly what he meant. Though you hadn’t gone through the same thing, you were familiar with avoiding a potentially painful and uncomfortable situation by simply pretending it didn’t exist. Hence why you had four unopened voicemails from your brother and parents. 

You found yourself stroking the back of Mark’s hand with your thumb. It didn’t feel wrong to touch him like this, even though maybe it should have. All you wanted was to bring him a shred of the comfort he had deserved to have for much longer than you’d known him. 

“Alrighty, and here we’ve got the bacon cheeseburger and sweet potato fries for the lady,” Lana exclaimed, immediately bursting your bubble as she returned to your table with your food balanced on a tray. You were quick to snatch your hand from Mark’s. “And a BBQ cheddar burger with curly fries for the handsome man.”

You didn’t miss the way Lana winked as she placed Mark’s food in front of him. This girl was not getting a generous tip from you, that was for sure. 

“I told you, after that depressing dinner conversation, we need to do something fun,” you told Mark as you carried your skincare basket out from the bathroom into the living room.

“And this is fun for who?” 

You threw him a playful glance and plopped down onto the floor in front of the couch on your knees, setting your basket on the cushion and sifting through it. 

“Both of us. Just trust me.” 

Catching the skeptic look on Mark’s face, you could only grin to yourself as you pulled out a tube of your favorite clay mask. He didn’t know just how relaxing a good face mask could be, but you were willing to show him. 

“I’ll even go first,” you told him. 

Mark lifted his feet to prop them up on the coffee table as Milo curled up like a tiny ball of cotton on his lap. You’d both changed out of your work clothes into comfy clothes, and you couldn’t help noticing how warm Mark looked in his white joggers and oversized black hoodie. You wouldn’t mind snuggling up into that space between his side and the couch cushion… 

You sighed and shook your head, attempting to clear the less-than-platonic thoughts from your mind. If you were going to make this friendship work, you would need to stop thinking about him like that. Immediately.

“Can I ask you something?” Mark said after a beat of silence as you popped open the cap to your mask. 

“Hm?” you asked, propping your personal sized makeup mirror on the couch so that you could see yourself while you applied your mask. 

“Yugyeom’s family has a yearly pass to this campground, and every year he does this weekend camping trip…” he trailed off for a moment and you forced yourself not to react, instead focusing on applying your charcoal mask to your cheeks. “This year, it somehow ended up as a couple thing, so Dahyun suggested I invited a friend along. So…” 

Lifting your eyes from your own reflection, you watched as Mark struggled to finish his thought. 

“So…” you said, helping him along. “Are you asking me to come with you?” 

Immediately, a neon flashing red alarm screeched in your mind. ‘This is a terrible idea! You must say no!’ it screamed.

“Only if you want to. I mean, it’s a cool place. Their lot is right by this swimming hole and there’s a fire pit, so we normally bring a ton of booze and cook our own food over the fire…” 

Mark ran his fingers through his deep red locks of hair, his nerves displayed clearly on his face. You weren’t sure why he was so nervous to ask you, but it came off as incredibly endearing. Despite the warnings blaring in your mind, you found yourself nodding. 

“Okay.” 

Mark looked at you then, his eyes finally locking on yours, and the corner of his lips lifted in a hopeful smile. “Really?”

You couldn’t help grinning as well. “Yeah. I mean, on one condition…”

“Oh?” 

“Mhm,” you replied, holding up the mask tube and popping the cap back open. “You let me put this mask on you.”

“Aish,” Mark said and shook his head. “No way. Not worth it.”

“Oh, come on, you big baby!” 

You stood from the floor and climbed onto the couch, crawling to his side and squeezing some of the mask onto your index and middle fingers. “It’s not that bad!”

“Get away from me!” Mark exclaimed with a laugh, dodging your fingers. Milo hopped up onto the arm of the couch, stomping his cute little paws a few times. 

“Just let me pamper you, Mark!” 

He let out another laugh, louder this time, trying to reach for the mask to steal from your grasp, but he wasn’t fast enough. You giggled, ducking to miss his hands as he grabbed for your wrists. 

Somehow, you found yourself straddling him, thighs resting on either side of Mark’s waist. 

“Real men wear face masks!” you exclaimed with a shout of victory as you finally managed to smear a good amount of the clay mask across Mark’s left cheek. 

“Oh, you little-” he replied, hands reaching for your sides underneath the long sleeved shirt you were wearing. He tickled your sides, a joyful laugh falling from his lips when you started squealing. 

Milo yapped a few times from the arm of the chair, presumably because he thought that you were hurting Mark or vice versa, but his protective barks only made you laugh harder. 

“Mark! Stop it!” 

You gasped for breath, wriggling on top of him and dropping the mask tube, fighting between giggling and trying to swat his hands away. 

“It’s what you deserve, you sneak,” he said, his hands still squeezing and tickling your sides, unknowingly drifting further up your shirt to your ribs. 

Twisting and turning, you finally managed to grab his wrists and yanked them from under your shirt. You held them firmly in between your bodies, even though he could have easily overpowered you. 

Your chest heaved up and down with the last of your giggles. Mark stared up at you, still smiling and out of breath. The air suddenly became thick as you held eye contact, your hands falling from his wrists to his chest. 

“Y/N,” Mark whispered. 

‘Danger! Danger!’ your mind yelled. 

Mark’s hands, now free from your hold, landed on your hips. You felt his thumbs slip under the hem of your shirt, stroking the bare skin of your stomach. Your heart pounded beneath your rib cage at his gentle touch. 

“Mark,” you said, intending on telling him to stop, but it quickly died in your throat. 

His chin tipped up, making you realize just how close you were to him now. You weren’t sure who had leaned in first, but only a few mere inches separated your lips from his now. If you only bent forward a bit, you could… 

It reminded you, all of the sudden, of the kiss in the bathroom. It had been quick, but long enough for you to slide your tongue past his lips. You remembered the shock to your system the moment you had felt the cold metal of a tongue piercing. 

“Y/N,” Mark said again. “Tell me to stop.”

His voice was quiet but you felt like you could read between the lines. He didn’t want to stop, and the only way he was going to stop was if you made it clear that you didn’t want this. 

But you did. You’d wanted it from the moment he ran his fingers over the tattoo he’d inked onto your skin one of those first nights, a soft ghost of a touch that made goosebumps form on every inch of your skin. 

You weren’t stupid, you knew that this was all wrong for a variety of reasons, the least of which being that he was your roommate. But that meant nothing to you compared to the way his hands felt on your skin.

Before you could open your mouth, tell him that you didn’t want him to stop, an 8-bit version of the Mario Kart theme blasted from somewhere behind you. You jumped, your heart skipping several beats from the surprise. 

Mark took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, blinking a few times before he gently guided your hips to climb off of him. “Sorry, I should…”

The ringtone felt familiar but you couldn’t figure out why. Even as you watched Mark grab for his phone off the coffee table and immediately silence it, you wracked your brain to try and remember where you had heard that ringtone before. 

It was as if Taehyung had known, the moment that Mark quieted the little voice in his head telling him not to be so close to you and that this was wrong in so many ways, and finally accepted his feelings for you.  

Maybe he had a sixth sense. 

The moment that had passed between you then had been effectively ruined as soon as he was reminded of two things: you were his childhood best friend’s little sister, and he had already ruined your life even if you didn’t know it yet. 

But he’d been so close to giving in. You’d been on top of him, smiling in that innocently beautiful way that you did, your thighs caging in his hips. He hadn’t missed the fact that he could feel you with every inch of him, considering how he’d begged his body not to react, not to harden beneath you. Between the thin layers of his sweats and your sleep shorts, there was no way you wouldn’t notice. 

Later, after you’d grabbed a washcloth so you could both wipe the face mask off your faces and awkwardly watch TV for an hour before enough time could pass for you to realistically head off to bed, Mark listened to the voicemail Taehyung had left. 

“Hey man. I just wanted to let you know that uh, I’m going to try and head to the city and look for Y/N in a few weeks. If you see her again or have any idea where she might be, let me know. I really appreciate it, my mom’s been going crazy… anyway, maybe we can grab a drink or something once I’m in town. I’ll hit you up. Thanks again, Mark.”

Mark was glad he was in the privacy of his own bedroom when he listened to the message so you didn’t see the way he threw his phone down on the bed, muttering curse words to himself and trying to forget how heavenly you had felt on top of him. 

It was impossible. All he could think about was your skin under his fingertips, how your lips had been so soft and smooth and close to his, and how the weight of you on top of him had been enough to make him hard. 

His only option was to shut himself in the bathroom and crank the shower all the way to the coldest temperature that he could stand and pray that it would be enough to keep him from sneaking into your bedroom that night. 

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Oh Baby!

(baby!Tommy x motherly!Reader)

(lets see if this gets any attention. if it does i’ll see about doing other characters as babies! maybe wilbur or techno lol.)

--------

You were minding your own business, just relaxing at home in L’Manburg with a good book and some of your favorite drink. But the peace and quiet was all at once interrupted by frantic knocking at your front door. Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked at the front entrance, wondering as you got up who in the world could be knocking so hard on the door.

You cautiously went over and raised an eyebrow when you heard… crying and then the sound of someone running away? Now more confused than ever you tentatively cracked the door open and looked around but didn’t see anyone. Though the crying was still close and when you looked down your eyes widened at the sight of a covered basket sitting innocently on your front porch. 

The crying slowed to only whimpers but it was definitely coming from the basket and you hurried to pull the door open all the way and lean down to check the abandoned basket. But you hesitated when you saw a slip of paper stuffed in the side of it. You pulled it out and quickly read it, and felt your stomach drop when you read out loud,

“Reader. IDK what happened. Tommy and I were dungeon hunting and there were skeletons shooting at us and he didn’t have a shield and got hit with a tipped arrow of some kind and then he turned into a baby. I can’t handle kids but you seem like you could. Don’t worry, it should wear off eventually. But don’t tell Philza, he’ll probably kill me. -Quackity.”

You let out a confounded ‘what the fuck?!’ then finally pulled the blanket off the basket and froze when you looked into a VERY familiar pair of bright blue eyes. Only instead of being on a teen boy’s face they were on a little baby’s face. A baby face that was streaked with tears. Your shocked face softened when you saw how distressed the little guy was. Without thinking about it too hard you reached down and scooped the little bundle up into your arms.

Tommy stared up at you with his wide watery blue eyes and sniffled before whimpering again. You cooed at him and began to rock him in your arms, trying to soothe his distress as best you could. 

“Oh no baby, shhh, it’s okay. I’m here. C’mon, let’s get you inside,” you said as you brought him and the basket in. 

You noticed he wasn’t actually wearing anything and the only thing keeping him covered was the blanket he’d arrived in. So first things first you crafted him some cloth diapers and got him cleaned up and changed. Then you held him up in front of you and smiled while you baby talked to him.

“Oh there we go! All dressed huh? Not nakey no more!”

Tommy giggled and kicked his chubby little legs and reached for your face. You pulled him close so he was snuggled to your chest and he instantly used one hand to grab some of your hair, but thankfully he didn’t yank on it and just held it. While his other hand patted your face while he babbled.

You wondered if Tommy could understand you, or if he had any memories of before he was turned into a baby. Then you wondered how long he’d be like this, or… if he’d go back to normal at all. But when Tommy started fussing you let those thoughts drift to the back of your mind so you could take care of him, for as long as he needed you.

-0-

Turns out he’d been hungry so you’d warmed him up some milk, which he’d more than eagerly drank til there was nothing left. Then you’d had to burp him, which was cute and thankfully he’d not thrown up on you at any point. He was a cute little baby but nobody wants baby barf on them.

But now you were playing with him on the carpet, doing the ‘this little piggy’ game on his toes (which he apparently loved more than anything) and each time you’d recite a line about a ‘piggy’ you’d wiggle one of his toes. He was giggling and watching you with bright eyes, knowing when you got to the last piggy you’d tickle his feet. 

You played with him well into mid day, but then you noticed him getting fussy again. And he’d eaten not too long ago so you doubted he was hungry again. You also checked his diaper but he was clean, which meant he was sleepy. So you scooped him up and started walking to your bedroom, rubbing his back and telling him it was nap time. He continued to fuss as you closed the curtains and shut off the lamp. There was still enough light to where you could see but it was dim enough to make sleeping easier.

You got into bed and laid on your side and nestled him so he was on his back with his head laying in the crook of your arm, making sure he was between you and the wall for safety. He didn’t want to sleep it seemed because he started whining and kicking his feet, clearly upset. But you shushed him and hummed to try and get him to settle down. It didn’t work though and he continued to fuss. You sighed and thought back to how your mom said she got you to go to sleep. 

So you turn him on his side so he was facing you and then start to gently run your nails up and down his back in a soft scratch. Your mom swore by this, it could put any baby to sleep. And true to her word the moment you started scratching Tommy’s back his eyelids drooped and he yawned. Soon his eyes closed all the way but you kept scratching until you could tell his breathing had evened out. 

You stopped scratching and waited a minute to see if he’d wake up or stir at all, but luckily he stayed sleeping. You brushed his honey colored hair from his face and kissed his forehead then slowly inched out of the bed. You’d have napped too but you had chores that needed to be done that you were supposed to do earlier but couldn’t because of Tommy’s surprise visit. 

After successfully getting out of bed you surrounded Tommy with pillows to keep him from rolling off the bed and hurting himself. Then you silently crept from the room and cracked the door behind you so you could keep an ear out while he slept in case he woke up.

-0-

You managed to tend to your garden and harvest the carrots and potatoes without trouble, then handle your laundry, but it was when you were washing dishes that you heard it. Tommy wailing. You dropped the dish you’d been washing into the sink of soapy water then practically sprinted upstairs to your bedroom. You were cursing yourself for not putting more pillows around him, fearing he’d fallen and banged his head or something.

But when you burst into your bedroom you let out an audible breath of relief when you saw he was still safely on the bed and not the floor. You hurried over, cooing at him as he saw you and raised his arms up towards you, making grabby hands to show he definitely wanted to be picked up. You happily obliged him and lifted him into your hold and kissed his wet cheeks and lovingly rubbed his back while he calmed down from his crying.

“Oh baby I’m so sorry, did you wake up all alone? I’m sorry, I’m here, don’t worry~” you murmured sweetly against his crown.

He clutched onto your neck and refused to let go, but you didn’t try to pull him away, instead you just rocked him and took him downstairs to be with you so he wouldn’t cry anymore. You were starting to get hungry and you knew seeing you eat would make Tommy hungry so you decided to warm him up some milk while you prepped some carrot sticks for yourself. You figure if he wanted some of your food a carrot would be the safest option for him to gnaw on.

But while you were standing at the kitchen sink filling a glass with water for yourself you glanced over when Tommy hiccupped and saw him blink as potion swirls hovered around him. Before you could see what was wrong he hiccupped again and suddenly the weight sitting on your hip was MUCH heavier and you stumbled a bit before realizing the blue eyes you were looking at were sitting on a teen boy’s face and not a baby’s…

All at once it hit you both that Tommy was naked save for the underwear he was in (how’d his diaper turn into tighty whities?) and you were holding him up on your hip. Once it hit him he screamed and flailed until you let go of him and he fell to the floor. You wanted to laugh but asked him if he was okay instead. Or you tried to but he screeched,

“DON’T FUCKIN’ LOOK!! I’M NAKED!!”

You turned your head away from him but you could see him scrambling to his feet and trying in vain to cover himself with just his hands. You helpfully directed him to the bathroom and said you’d bring him some clothes to change into. A second later you heard your bathroom door slam closed and you finally broke out into snickers. Once you composed yourself you went to grab some spare clothes of yours from your bedroom. 

You knocked on the bathroom door and passed the clothes through, not taking offense when Tommy quickly slammed the door closed after getting the shirt and pants. But once he was dressed he came out with a red face and looking huffy. You asked him if he remembered anything and he grumbled before swearing.

“Well fuckin’ Quackity and I were exploring this weird dungeon and there was a hidden spawner or somethin’ because suddenly we were trapped with like 7 skeletons and they were shooting these weird glowing arrows at us. An my shield broke and I got hit by one. Then… I don’t know, it’s blurry after that..”

He would never admit that he remembered everything from when he was a baby. He remembered how you looked after him, soothed his cries, and just loved him. He couldn’t remember anyone ever caring for him so nicely before. Ever. Not even Philza was that loving and he was his dad pretty much. But saying anything like that out loud would be humiliating! So he faked remembering nothing. 

You shrugged and filled him in briefly, saying he’d been a baby for the day and you’d made sure he didn’t die. He gave an embarrassed ‘thanks i guess’ but you just grinned and said you’d never let anything bad happen to your “widdle baby~!”. Tommy’s face flushed red and he sputtered angrily and started shouting that he wasn’t no BABY! He was a MAN! You just laughed and agreed, yes yes, very macho.

Things returned mostly to normal, though if your relationship shifted ever so closer in a familial way after that then neither of you mentioned it. But truthfully Tommy grew quite attached to you and you to him. Like the family you both weren’t aware you’d needed.

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Out Of Time ~ 132

MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 3,065ish

Summary: The aftermath of Thanos’ snap.

It was like the universe had just crashed into her. The weight she was feeling was absolutely crushing. Y/N’s had went up to her chest, as began to feel like she was choking. 

“Y/N,” Steve called as he rushed up from where he was sitting and to her. “Y/N, look at me.”

But Y/N didn’t respond. Her vision was blurry and she wasn’t able to hear anything. It was like all her senses had gone numb. Y/N’s strangled breathing was getting louder, more noticeable, more struggle some. She was trembling as everyone surrounded her.

“It was… I was… I was su-supposed to… stop this,” she choked out. “I… fa—failed…”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Nat quickly said, getting down in Y/N’s line of sight. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You tried your best, like everyone else.”

Y/N’s heart was pounding and she could feel a burning in her chest. Like a growing ball of power just waiting to be unleashed.

“I can’t—“ Y/N’s voice broke as tapped her chest. “There’s… this pain… it wants to be let out…”

“We need to see who’s left,” Steve stated, standing up and looking around.

“Steve, you stay here with Y/N,” Rhodey said taking over. “The rest of us will check out the kingdom.”

“No, I’m coming—“

“Steve,” Natasha reprimanded, standing to met Steve. “You haven’t seen her in two years. She’s your sister and she’s struggling.”

“We all are.”

“Bastard,” Y/N panted, trying to calm her breathing. She looked up at Steve, glaring. “You bastard… you will never understand, will you?” Shakily, Y/N pushed herself up, with Rhodey rushing to help steady her. “The world doesn’t revolve around you… and your wants and needs. There are other people in this world… and your actions affect them… whether you even notice it or not.” She tore from Rhodey’s helping grip, still not all that stable. “I don’t need to be watched over…” She stumbled as she went up to him, pointing a finger in his chest. “Especially by you… Not anymore.”

“Y/N, just listen to me—“

“I’m done listening to you, Steve! Done!”

“Hey, Y/N,” Rhodey said, softly, trying to pull her attention to him. “Let’s go together and check the battlefield for survivors.”

Keeping a hard glare at her brother, she let Rhodey lead her away.

~~~

All of the leaders of Wakanda had been turned to dust, leaving Okoye as the only option to lead the small, yet advanced, country. People were crying out, screaming, so incredibly shaken up. And if it was this bad in Wakanda, knowing that the rest of the universe had experienced this as well made Y/N heart break more than it already had.

Rhodey was keeping a watchful eye on her. Though all it took was one look away to help someone and Y/N had disappeared. She reappeared outside of Bucky’s hut, tears flooding her eyes as she looked around. Even half the goats were gone. 

Entering the small hut, Y/N ran her hand along the wall. She tried to calm herself as tears slipped down her face. She looked around the small kitchen and living area before heading to the bed room. The bed was unmade, not surprising. Slowly, Y/N laid herself on the bed. She laid on her side and grabbed Bucky’s pillow. Holding it closer to her, she dug her nose into the pillow, taking in his unique scent. That’s when she let loose, sobs wracked her body as the weight of what happened fully crushed her.

“Guys,” Rhodey called over the comms, “anyone have eyes on Y/N?”

“You lost her?!” Steve panicked.

“I turned away for a split second and she disappeared.”

“She has a room in the palace,” Okoye told Steve as she stood bedside the Captain. “We should check there.”

Steve ran with Okoye to Y/N’s room, only to find it empty.

“Y/N?” Steve called, frantically searching the room. “Y/N!”

“She’s not here,” Okoye stated. “There’s only one other place in Wakanda I could see her going. Other than that…”

“She could be anywhere… tell me where you think she could be?”

Okoye didn’t even get the words all the way out of her mouth before Steve was racing down the hall and out of the place. Pushing himself to the absolute limits, he ran to Bucky’s hut. He had known since Siberia that he had been a terribly awful brother. Today only proved it. But to think that Y/N had left, to do who knows what, was terrifying him. Breathing heavily, Steve came to a sliding stop in front of Bucky’s hut.

“Y/N?!” Steve shouted, rushing into the hut. “Y/N!”

“What do you want, Steve?” Her voice was soft, yet rough and clearly in pain.

“You disappeared without saying anything.”

“Why do you care?”

“Y/N…” He sighed. “I… I need to apologize.” Y/N scoffed. “I do.” He sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry for my attitude earlier… I was just… they disappeared right in front of us.”

“You don’t think I get that? It felt like I was dying…. Again…”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m sorry for the last two years as well, for not reaching out. Being on the run—“

“I was on the run too, Steve. From more than you would even know… do you even know what happened to me?” Steve and Y/N made eye contact, his eyes showing clear concern. “I… I was pregnant in Siberia.”

“What?” He questioned softly.

“He was a boy… AJ… I lost him the same day.”

“I didn’t—why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I was trying to keep you all from killing each other… it cost me everything for a while there… now it looks like I’ve lost everything again.”

“No.” Steve quickly took hold of one of his sisters’ hands. “You haven’t lost me. Not ever again.”

“I love Bucky and I love— Tony.” Y/N snapped up. “Oh my gosh, Tony!”

Without even thinking, she portaled both her and Steve to Titan. The breeze on the planet was floating their hair in the wind and what Y/N could only hope was ash.

“Tony!” Y/N screamed. “Tony! Peter!” She pulled her hand away from Steve’s and began running around. “Tony! Peter!”

Steve followed her, looking around as well. His heart grew heavier and heavier the more they continued to search and find no one. 

“T-Tony…” Y/N’s voice broke as she began to cry. “T-Tony…” 

She let out a heartbreaking cry of pain as she collapsed onto her knees. Steve rushed over to help her only to be blasted back by a wave of energy exploding out of Y/N. The whole planet tremble as the wave of energy rippled out. Steve crawled over to his sister and pulled her into his chest.

“They—they’re gone,” she sobbed, clutching to him. “They’re gone…”

~~~

When Steve and Y/N showed up in Wakanda again, everyone that was left was waiting in the palace for them. Y/N was still holding onto Steve. Natasha gave him a worried and questioning look, only to receive a sad shake of his head. Natasha flew Steve, Y/N, Rhodey, Rocket, Thor, and Bruce back to the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. 

It was empty, with a few piles of ash here and there to remind the remaining team members of what happened. Nat, needing to keep herself busy, immediately went looking for Fury and others that they knew. She got a location on his vehicle in New York City and immediately left with Rhodey.

Steve guided Y/N to her bedroom, which she had shared with Tony. He opened the door only for her to freeze in the doorway. She stared at the room, looking around as the overwhelming smell of Tony filled her senses.

“I can’t…” she said softly before swallowing. “I can’t stay in here…”

“Okay,” Steve responded with and. “You can stay with me in my room—“

“I want to be alone.”

Steve sighed. “Y/N—“

“I'll take a guest room.” 

She pulled herself out of Steve’s hold and headed towards another hall. Steve stood there, watching Y/N walk down the hall until she disappeared into a room. He sighed before turning back and looking at Tony’s room, slowly shutting the door.

~~~ 

Natasha and Rhodey couldn’t find Fury but they found an old pager that Natasha had sworn Fury kept on him. She brought it to Bruce who immediately began running tests on it. With really no government left, the remaining team members set out a request to all the countries to do a population count. 

None of them could get Y/N out of her room, or even open the door in the days that slowly followed. The only reason they knew she was alive was because of FRIDAY. But there was a catch, Y/N had FRIDAY covering for her was she searched Titan for any sign of those she fought beside. Cause unlike with Bucky, she didn’t see Tony disappear. So she would continue to have a sliver of hope that he was still out there until she saw proof with her own eyes.

Y/N would only come home when she was hungry and when she felt extremely tired. Her powers were taking a lot from her, especially as of late. It’s like she could feel that the Stones were tired from the amount energy they used to snap away half the universe. 

It had been about a week and a half since Thanos snapped when Y/N finally exited the room, letting the others see her. Everyone was surprised to see her, but they didn’t quickly jump on her and overwhelm her. Quietly, Y/N grabbed some food before joining Nat and Steve in a side room. They were watching hologram numbers continue to rise as the population counts and death tolls came in.

“This is a nightmare,” Steve stated.

“I’ve had better nightmares,” Natasha replied.

“I’ve been searching Titan,” Y/N said quietly, playing with her food. Nat and Steve’s heads snapped in her direction. “There’s nothing, except…”

“Except what?” Steve pressed gently.

“It’s probably nothing, but… one of the ships are missing. But since I’ve never been inside the ship or got a good look at it, I can’t reach it… I think someone survived.”

Steve came over and knelt in front of his sister, putting a caring hand on her knee. “If anyone survived and got a ship to work, it would be Tony. If he’s out there, we’ll find him.”

“Hey,” Rhodey called, coming into the room. The other three turned to look at him. “So that thing just stopped doing whatever the hell it was doing.”

Rhodey, Nat, Y/N, and Steve hurried to where Bruce was analyzing the pager.

“What do we have?” Y/N asked.

“Whatever the signal is sending, it finally creeped off,” Bruce answered.

“I thought we bypassed the battery,” Steve stated.

“We did,” Rhodey responded. "It's still plugged in, it just... it just stopped.”

“Reboot and send the signal again.”

“We don't even know what this is,” Bruce said.

“Fury did,” Natasha replied. “Just do it, please. You tell me the second you get a signal. I want to know who's on the other end of that thing.”

Natasha turned around only to freeze in her tracks. The others quickly spun around to see a woman standing in front of them.

“Where’s Fury?” The woman asked.

“Why do you want to know?” Rhodey retorted.

“Cause he paged me. And I was in the middle of helping people when half of them turned to ash.”

“He turned to ash as well,” Y/N said. 

“Damn it. Do we know who did th—“

“Thanos,” Steve cut in. “With the Infinity Stones, he snapped away half of the universe.”

“What’s the plan then?”

“Right now, we’re trying to get a list of the dead,” Natasha explained. “And find any of our team members that could be alive.”

“Wait,” Y/N stopped everyone. “How do you know Fury?”

“We worked together a few years back to stop the world from being destroyed,” the woman answered. “How do you all know Fury?”

“Basically for the same reason. Y/N Rogers,” Y/N held her hand out to shake.

The woman took it. “Carol Danvers.” Everyone went around the room introducing themselves. “So, what can I help with?”

Without prying in Carol’s mind too much, Y/N knew what she was capable of doing. “I need you to find a space ship.”

A few confused “what’s” and “whys” were heard from the group. Steve put a supportive hand on her back.

“A few of our friends fought Thanos on Titan,” Steve explained. “Y/N’s been there a few times since, trying to find them.”

“There was a ship on the planet,” Y/N continued. “It’s now gone. I believe that one of our friends survived.”

“I can go and check,” Carol sad with a nod.

“You think Tony may have survived?” Rhodey asked.

“I do,” Y/N answered. “But there’s only one way to find out.”

~~~

Another week and a half passed and there had been no news from Carol, which only began to increase Y/N’s worry. She tried to throw herself into helping with other things, only to be quickly distracted. Night had fallen, not that the days were all that bright anyway, and Steve was standing there, arms crossed, watching Y/N walk towards the river. He had been trying his best to be a better brother, but he knew he couldn’t fix what Y/N had lost. And, in all honesty, he was praying that Tony would be found alive. Steve didn’t want to know what would happen if he wasn’t. Natasha soon joined him.

“How’s she doing?” She asked, looking Y/N’s way.

Steve sighed, shaking his head. “I’m scared,” he told her honestly. “We haven’t heard from Carol in a week and a half. If she can’t find the ship… or if Tony’s not on the ship… I don’t want to think about how much she’ll be hurting.”

“She’ll get through it, she always does.”

“Yeah, but when is enough, enough?” The friends watched Y/N in silence for a while before Steve spoke up again. “Did you—did you know about the baby?”

“I did.”

“And you didn’t say anything?”

“It wasn’t my place, Steve. I wasn’t the one pregnant. Would it have changed anything for you anyway?” Steve clenched his jaw, unable to look at Natasha. “Thought so. You were going to go against the Accords and protect Bucky anyway.”

Over where Y/N was walking, she felt exhausted. She knew that she was being watched, but didn’t care. She was trying to clear her head and hoping that she might catch sight of Carol and, hopefully, others returning. Suddenly, Y/N stopped. Her breath hitched as she felt like someone had got into there body and grabbed her heart. Something was wrong. Failing to turn around and call for Steve, she collapsed on her knees.

“Y/N?” She heard Steve’s voice, but it was like it was underwater.

Like her heart was being quickly ripped from her chest, Y/N let out a horrible cry of pain. A wave of power exited from her, shaking the buildings and nature as it rippled out. Falling unconscious, Y/N fell sideways, blood trailing out of her nose and ears.

“Y/N!” Natasha and Steve shouted, rushing towards her.

Sliding in on his knees beside her, Steve lifted Y/N into his arms. Both him and Nat stared in horror as blood trickled out of Y/N. The others, feeling the trembling, came running out to meet them.

“Steve, we need to get her inside,” Bruce instructed. “Fast!”

Not another second was wasted. Steve sprinted inside, with Y/N extremely limp in his arms and the others close behind him. Bruce and Natasha worked together to get Y/N hooked up to all the necessary machines.

“What’s going on?” Thor asked, worried. He had lost everything, he didn’t want to lose anymore friends.

“I don’t know,” Bruce answered. “With her abilities tied to the Infinity Stones, it only makes sense that they would be unpredictable.”

“How do we help her?” Steve wondered.

“We wait. That’s all we can do.”

~~~

Tony shakily reached forward to turn on his busted helmet. He was sitting on the floor of the Guardians ship. The weight of the events could be felt in the air. He was extremely skinny, as it was obvious that he wasn’t getting what he needed to survive. Tony sighed as he tapped the helmet.

“This thing on?” He questioned. The helmet scanned him as he leaned against the wall, all while taking deep breaths. “Hey, Miss Rogers…. Y/N. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so. Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it. And Y/N/N, honey, I... I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt… I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about you. Because it's always you. And… I’ll say hi to our son for you… I love you.”

next chapter >

NOTES: from now on the taglist when be added by a reblog. I will reblog it using my second account, @just-dreaming-marvel-2​. Just so that my main page doesn’t get too cluttered.

If you want to be added to the tag list, please dm me or send in an ask.

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy (2)

Welp, I guess I am expanding on this. I may have already been planning to write a part 2 but I wasn’t expecting to do it this quickly. While I am doing my own thing with the content initially inspired by the previous comic I did steal one of Plagg’s lines from their continuation comic cause it was too funny to be ignored.

So anyhoo! Here’s a part two!

---

“Geez, you would think Hawkmoth would give us one morning off,” Alya groaned. Marinette, Nino, and Alya had been heading towards the station to meet Adrien when that giant robot akuma came out of nowhere.

Now the girls returned to a worried looking Nino who embraced Alya happily. Marinette lingered a bit away from them looking pale and sweaty. Alya sighed and went back to comfort her. “Don’t worry, girl, I’m sure things with Adrien will work out.”

“Yeah...about that…”

The train slid into the station. The doors opened and people started flooding out. Marinette grabbed Alya’s arm and pulled her down to whisper in her ear. “I freaked out seeing Adrien while I was Ladybug and might have, sort of, asked him out to the movies.”

“As Ladybug?”

“Yeah.”

“What is wrong with you! That wasn’t the plan! You were going to do that only if he rejected you as Marinette!”

“I know but I didn’t want to get rejected so I jumped the gun. Do you think this will mess things up?”

“I don’t know! We don’t know what his reply is gonna be. What did he say after you asked him out?”

“Nothing. I left before he could answer.”

“I love you but I am going to kill you.” Alya pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Heads up,” Nino called for the girls’ attention, “I can see Adrien.”

“I’m gonna make a run for it.” Marinette took two steps before Alya pounced on her and forced her back.

“You dug this grave, now lie in it.” Alya grabbed her arm and pulled her down the platform towards Adrien.

Adrien was walking in a dazed state and his face was beet red. He almost walked completely past them before Nino hooked an arm around his shoulders. "Hey dude! It's great to have you back."

"Oh hi, Nino," Adrien snapped out of his daze, "You didn't have to come meet me."

"Sure we did," the three of them started walking back out of the station. Adrien clung close to Nino as he told them about his trip. His gaze kept flickering down to Marinette who walked in step with Alya. Nino would have found it funny if it wasn’t for the fact that Marinette looked like she wanted to melt into the ground.

After their initial phone call two weeks ago Adrien had been really quiet about the whole confession thing. He sent lots of pictures from his trip and talked to him but anything having to do with Marinette was nonexistent. He figured he was working through his feelings on his own. It may have been because Marinette was his friend or Alya’s aggressive shipping of the two but he hoped Adrien chose her. They really were made for each other.

The girls left early and Nino invited Adrien back to his place to hang out. "I'm glad you had fun on your trip. You must have had a lot on your mind regardless."

"A lot on my mind?"

"We were gonna have to talk about it at some point," Nino collapsed into a beanbag chair, "About Marinette?"

Adrien went rigid. "Ma-Marinette? What about Marinette?"

Nino looked at him deadpanned. "Dude, she confessed to you? Remember?"

"Yeah," Adrien sat down next to him, "I remember."

"So did you come to a decision while you were away?" Nino asked.

"Not really, I keep flip-flopping about it. I know being with Marinette would be the easier option and she's great. I would be lucky to call her my girlfriend."

"But?"

"I still really love Ladybug and after what happened today…"

"What happened today?"

Adrien recounted to Nino about the akuma and how Ladybug and Rena Rouge saved him. Then how Ladybug had asked him out to see a movie.

"HOLY CRAP!" Nino gaped, "Ladybug asked you out? Why didn’t you lead with that?"

"I guess because I was still processing it happened." Adrien leaned back so he was staring up at the ceiling, "It feels like I'm dreaming. I'm happy but it also confused me more."

"I wouldn't blame you for being confused. Having a friend confess to you and then your crush asking you out...it's a lot to think of."

"I feel like the answer should be obvious. But it doesn't feel that way anymore."

“So what are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know. Marinette said she wasn’t expecting an answer but I still owe her something. I don’t even know how serious Ladybug was with her invitation. She could have just been messing with me but I don’t really see casual flirting as something she would do.” Adrien pondered it some more. Nino could see the gears turning in his head.

“I’d like to see you and Marinette together but I can’t force you to be with her. If it turns out Ladybug is who you really want then that’s okay too. Marinette’s strong and for the most part it sounds like she just wanted to let you know she had feelings for you. You don’t have to feel guilty about either option. I hope you know that.”

“You’re so sagely. It’s throwing me off,” Adrien laughed, “Go back to saying dude and talking through a mouth full of hot cheetos please. But seriously though, thanks for talking with me about this. It helps.”

“I’m always here for you, brother,” Nino tossed him a controller, “Now let me whip your butt in Mario Kart.”

---

Adrien returned home after a few rounds of Mario Kart with Nino. He was already pushing things with his father by going off with his friends earlier instead of heading straight home. He received a cool welcome from his father when he walked inside the mansion before he was gone again. At least he had deigned to greet him when he got home. That’s more than what he expected out of him.

He climbed the stairs to his room. “Alright, you can come out now,” Adrien told Plagg.

“You couldn’t have snuck me some cheetos while you were hanging out with your friend?” Plagg whined, “I’m starving!”

“There were three full camembert tins as well as an emergency string cheese in my bag. How are you starving?”

“I ate those on the ride back to Paris. Now I’m hungry again!” Plagg crawled across Adrien’s bed, “I’m so weak, Adrien. I can hardly move. Everything around me is going dark. I can hear the angels singing.”

“You are a menace.” Adrien picked him up and tossed him into his cheese cabinet. “Happy?”

“I feel rejuvenated!” Plagg cackled as he dove head first into a new tin of camembert. Adrien rolled his eyes and closed the cabinet door.

He went to the window and looked out over the lights of the city. He couldn’t wait to be back running across that skyline. Two weeks without being Chat Noir had been torture. Ladybug assured him that she and Rena had things covered when he told her he was going away for a bit. Still, it didn’t stop him from feeling guilty about it.

Maybe he could tear Plagg away from his cheese hoard for a quick jaunt around town. Maybe he’d even see Ladybug.

Oh Ladybug. All this time he had been trying and failing to woo her as Chat Noir and then without any prompting she asked Adrien out. He still wasn’t sure if she was serious. How badly he hoped that she was though. He wanted it to be real. He wanted Ladybug to love him. Now it looked like he had a chance at that but there was only one snag. Marinette.

Sweet and wonderful Marinette. He already broke her heart as Chat Noir. Could he stand to do it again as Adrien? He really didn’t want to but neither did he want to leave her in suspense of an answer. He wished things could be simpler.

He thought back to what Plagg said on the train and scoffed. “Monogamy is a concept invented by humans.” he repeated it back to himself, “As much as I would love to be in the middle of a Ladybug/Marinette sandwich I don’t think that’s an option. I think I would combust at the mere possibility.”

He pressed his head to the cool window and sighed. His eyes fluttered close. He should just go to bed at this point. He would stay up all night worrying himself into knots about what to do at this rate. He opened his eyes once more and fell back with a startled yelp.

“Oops, sorry,” Ladybug waved at him upside down through the glass, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Oh no, no you’re fine.” Adrien shot to his feet, “What are you doing here?”

“Well,” she righted herself and perched on top of his open window, “I wanted to come by and talk to you. I realize I kind of gave you a shock today during the akuma attack. The whole asking you to go to a movie thing.”

“Right, yeah, I was certainly surprised.” Adrien rubbed the back of his neck. Ladybug was in his room! Okay, she was sitting on his window but that was still in his room. “I gotta know, were you being serious or were you just fooling with me? I won’t be mad if you were but I just wanna know.”

“Yeah, about that,” he could swear he saw Ladybug blushing. Ladybug was blushing around him! “I did mean what I said. I think you’re a nice guy and I know that we haven’t ever interacted that much but I like you. I have no idea what you think of me but now you know what I think of you. So...thoughts?”

“I think you’re amazing.” Adrien answered without hesitation. His feet brought him closer to the window so he could better gaze up at her. Her head was silhouetted in moonlight casting a bright white halo around her dark hair. Her eyes sparkled like stars as she gazed stared back at him. Her lips slightly parted and her cheeks pink.

Adrien cleared his throat and spoke again. “I’ve actually had a crush on you for ages. I had trouble believing anything would come of it though.”

“Oh really?” Ladybug smirked, “Ages you say?”

Adrien’s mouth went dry. He nodded his head.

“Well if that ain’t a kick in the head,” she chuckled softly, “I’ve had a crush on you too.”

Wait. Hold up! Ladybug had a crush on him? He knew that she liked him but a crush? For how long? Adrien’s mind flashed back to when Ladybug told him she was in love with someone else. Was the someone else Adrien? Had he been getting rejected all this time because Ladybug was already in love with him?

“Adrien?” Ladybug waved a hand in front of his face, “Did I lose you? Was that too forward? I’m sorry if it was.”

“No! I’m just really happy!” Adrien blurted out. “I...I uh…if you still want I would like to go to that movie with you.”

Ladybug smiled. “Great. Are you free tomorrow?”

“I will be,” he would move the heavens themselves in order to be free if so needed.

“Awesome. They’re doing a classic movie night at the theater tomorrow. We could see the original La Belle et la Bete or Citizen Kane or Roman Holiday.”

“Aren’t they playing Psycho as well?”

“A horror movie?” Ladybug’s eyes widened. “I mean if that’s what you want to see...well um…”

“Wait,” Adrien said, “Are you--are you scared of horror movies?”

“Yeah, I know, big bad hero Ladybug gets scared watching horror movies. Laugh it up.” she shook her head.

“I wasn’t laughing. I wasn’t!” Adrien couldn’t help but smile though. He learned something new about her. “La Belle et la Bete sounds nice. I don’t think I’ve ever seen the original. I’ve only seen the Disney version and the live action remake they did back in 2014.”

 “Well then,” Ladybug twisted her yo-yo around in her hands. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening for our date.”

“Can’t wait.” Adrien was smiling like a fool. Ladybug gave him another wave goodbye before leaping off into the night. Adrien watched from the open window with a dreamy smile on his face. He had a date with Ladybug!

Then his heart sunk. He was gonna have to reject Marinette now. He hoped she wouldn’t take it too hard.

---

“I have a date with Adrien! I have a date with Adrien!” Marinette danced around her room. The kwamis were all out and celebrating with her. Alya sat on the chaise with a knowing smile. This wasn’t what Alya had planned but it looked like it worked out in the end. She had never seen Marinette so happy.

“Oh no,” Marinette stopped abruptly. “I have a date with Adrien!”

She ran to her closet and started pulling out clothes. “What am I gonna wear? It’s a movie date so it shouldn’t be anything too fancy but I don’t want to look like a slob. Should I wear something warm if the theatre is cold? But with all that body heat it’s bound to be warm so should I dress lighter? Alya, what do you think?”

“I think that you’re going as Ladybug so what you have on under your costume won’t make much of a difference.” Alya was trying not to laugh.

“Oh right,” Marinette threw her clothes back down, “Forgot about that part.”

“And you’re okay with dating Adrien as Ladybug? You don’t think that’s gonna cause any problems down the road? If you want this relationship to go anywhere in the future you’ll need to tell him who you are.”

“I know, but that isn’t for a good long while. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.”

The words of a fool in love. Alya decided to let her have her moment and not say anything. Tomorrow night would be interesting indeed.

---

(Previous) (Next)

[dreamsfreckles]

[7:21p.m.] A Couple of Whipped Besties, One Could Say...

~

Sapnap x reader

Fluff

A couple of sus betsies - enjoy!

~

Sapnap smiled proudly at the beautiful view in front of him: you sitting in his gaming chair, beating the shit out of George on a minecraft PVP server.

Naturally, as Sapnap’s best friend, today marked your third night sleeping over at his house, the usual.

You two simply couldn’t get sick of each other.

Sure, he was annoying and relentless sometimes, and maybe you were a bit stubborn and moody; but regardless, both of your personalities clashed and complimented each other perfectly - creating a close friendship. 

Even though your friendship was his most precious treasure, Sapnap couldn’t help but be dissatisfied with it. 

Not because he wasn’t happy with you... but because he wasn’t happy with you. 

incase you need further elaboration:

Sapnap done went and caught feelings for you. (no earnings)

Leaning over your left shoulder as you gamed, Sapnap side-eyed your facial expressions as you passionately played on the computer monitor in front of you, flexing your weirdly amazing skill at PVP.

He admired you; you looked cute while concentrated. Critting George’s player with your diamond axe was Sapnap’s favorite sight to see. Your eyebrows furrowed the slightest bit and your eyes shined as you attempted to predict George’s next move. 

Not to mention you were also hot as fuck. Sapnap didn’t need to admit that though...

Not only were you his cute best friend, but you were also a super skilled player. He seemed to get the best of both worlds when it came to you.

You can be risky, fun, daring and stupid, but at the same time smart, soft, sweet, and safe. It’s rare to have someone as unique and different as you. You were irreplaceable. 

It also just makes things 1000x better when you’re the reason George regrets his entire PVP career.

Sapnap leaned back into his spare chair, laughing in disbelief at you mercilessly owning George in the game. He could hear George’s screams of absolute terror leaking from the headset on your head; his headset. (dollar tree)

Goddamn he’s whipped. (what a shrimp)

The headphones were a little big on you, which added to the cuteness. Sapnap secretly peered at you love-sickly, sighing in content. It was rare for him to be completely in a haze by you simply doing nothing; for some reason you had him completely under your control today.

Your sudden yell broke Sapnap from his trance and brought his attention to the monitor showing the signature “victory” screen. You squealed hopping up from your chair and doing a small victory dance, laughing at George as he wallowed in defeat. You turn to Sapnap, a wide smile on your face. “Were you watching that? George is SHIT!” You laughed. Sapnap shook his head in disbelief. “Have you been practicing? I have to get you to duel Dream... I doubt you could beat him though. Gogy is just trash.” You giggled with Sapnap at his open criticism towards George, while the trash PVP player on the call scoffed and mumbled incoherent curse words. (ignoring the fact Sapnap lowkey called you trash)

“Well,” you start, relaxing back into his gaming chair. “I’m kind of hungry now. Do you want to go get Chick-fil-a or something?” Just before Sapnap could respond, he was rudely interrupted by George screaming on his headset. “YOU’RE GOING TO GET CHICK-FIL-A?!” The headphones rung. “Are you trying to get cancelled Sapnap?” George joked, making literally no one laugh. You glanced at Sapnap in amusement. His face is twisted in playful annoyance as he ends the call with George. “I guess George is right... Don’t want our precious Sappy getting cancelled.” Sapnap scoffs and rolls his eyes at you playing along with George, a smile on his face. You smirk evilly, standing up to walk across his room to grab your purse. “Whelp, looks like you gotta get your own fast food.” You sling your purse over your shoulder and start heading towards his bedroom door.

Sapnap’s eyes widen at your statement. There’s no way he’s letting you go along with George’s stupid-ass joke.

Before you could leave, Sapnap scrambled to wedge himself between you and his door, stopping you from exiting the room. “Um? You’re dog water if you think you’re pulling that bullshit on me?” He sasses, backing you away from his door.

You hold in your laugh and shrug, putting up a serious face. “We should probably have a break from each other anyway... Why don’t you go out and get McDonald’s instead? I’ll be back in like,” you check your phone for affect. “Like 45 minutes.” You state, looking back up to his pretty eyes filled with betrayal.

Sapnap is frozen. He didn’t think that this Chick-fil-a joke would actually be taken some-what seriously. You wanted time away from him? What the fuck? You two have always been clingy to each other! You can barely go to his fucking kitchen by yourself! 

He took a second longer looking into your shining eyes. Then it all clicked.

You little rat. How cruel are you to be playing with his little heart like that?

Sapnap could turn this situation around in a few different ways.

1.) He could call out your cap right now and you two would go out and get your chick-fil-a, or whatever you want to eat.

2.) He could football tackle you to the fucking ground and make you apologize for saying such buffoonery.

3.) He could go along with your cruel joke, and make you think that he 100% agrees that you two “need to take a break.” He can even go as far as calling it a night and telling you that he’s too tired for another sleepover night.

Sapnap was never the merciful type. As much as he is unconditionally in love with you, he don’t play. 

Option 3 was game.

Sapnap looked up and to the side, pretending to think about your suggestion of “taking a break” like it was a valid choice. Stepping away from his place in between you and the door, Sapnap motions for you to go. “You know what, you’re kinda right. You can go ahead, I think I’m going to call someone.” Sapnap whips out his phone from his back jean pocket and turns away from you, pretending to scroll through his contacts.

This makes you stumble for a second. Did he just... agree with you..? Your heart stops beating for a split second and you debate if you should tell him that you were joking or not. You can barely go to the kitchen by yourself, why isn’t he catching on that it was a joke? You stand still there, looking at his turned back. “Okay... I’m just going to go then.” You say, still not making a move to leave. After a moment of him not acknowledging a word you just said, you start again. “Do you like...” you pause. “want me to bring you back something...” Sapnap turns back to you at that, suddenly deciding to pay attention to you. “Uh no thanks, I’ll just eat something here. You should probably call your mom, she probably wants you home. You’ve been here for what-” he checks his phone for the date. “Like 4 days?” He states, looking back up to you.

Your mouth drops. Hurt fills you heart. Did he really just say that?

Yeah... you have been at his house for a while... but you didn’t think that he was getting sick of you. You usually stayed over there for 4 nights on average before you went home.

You’ve stayed there for 6 days before! And you both STILL mourned the loss of each other’s presence when you left!

(Isn’t this simp culture?)

What does this mean? You stand there is silence just looking at him. It’s not like you could argue; you were the one who said you needed a break first.

You felt like crying. Yes... Sapnap is your best friend and this literally isn’t that big of a deal, but... you love Sapnap. You’d spend forever with him if you could. And you thought he would too. You stiffen for a moment. You know he isn’t your boyfriend; as much as you wish he was, you need to stop acting like he is. 

Him saying he wants to be alone shouldn’t be that big of a deal to you! You guys are friends! He’s standing there, looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to go on, do anything.

While you stand there debating your life choices with hurt written all over your face, Sapnap’s mind is racing a million miles an hour. He literally can’t decide if he should burst out laughing from how well his plan worked or hug you and say sorry for being so mean.

He literally can’t decide - so he does both.

Just as you feel your eyes getting the tinniest bit glassy, Sapnap roars with laughter and pulls you into a bear hug, squeezing your waist with one arm and using the other to pet your hair fondly. “I’m so sorry, I had to, it was too good, that literally couldn’t have gone better-” he rambles. You immediately sulk and smack his shoulder, aggressively hugging him back. “YOU ASSHOLE I GOT SO SCARED!” You groan in embarrassment. You literally almost cried.

Sapnap giggles and hugs you tighter, his smile couldn’t possibly get wider. You sigh in relief, snuggling into his arms. “You actually scared me so bad. That was so weird.” Sapnap laughs again, leaning back from you slightly to get a look at your pretty face. You were pouting. Cute. Sapnap smirked and squeezed your cheek with the hand that was previously petting your semi-tangled hair. “You did it to me first you dimwit, what the hell did you think I felt like?!” He exclaimed. “You literally told me to go home you asshole!” You exasperated. Sapnap threw his head back laughing, pulling you back towards him again. He nuzzled into the side of your neck, sighing happily.

As hilarious as it was watching you go through the 5 stages of grief over this situation, it was also heart breaking all at the same time. He hopes he never has to see that again on a serious note, if he’s being honest. If you ever looked like that when you guys were being legit - it would quite literally kill him.

After what felt like 20 minutes of hugging, you pulled back from the hug and looked up at Sapnap, his arms still attached to the ends of your sweatshirt, keeping you in place. 

As he stared down at your pink cheeks and flustered expression, he felt like he could stand with you here for hours. He wishes he could kiss you.

You rolled your eyes at him as he giggled. “Whatever.” You state, walking out of his hold and over to his bed side table. Sapnap watches your movements in confusion. Once at the table, you open the top drawer and snatch his wallet from inside, your back facing him. “I’m getting fucking Chick-fil-a and if you don’t come, I’m literally going to buy the entire menu with this.” You turn facing him and hold up his wallet. Sapnap’s eyes widen in realization at what’s in your possession. He makes a move to run over to you and snatch it back. Unluckily for him, you were already bolting out the door and to his car.

Hello 🥺

I hope u enjoyed sorry it took so long hehee

I’ve had lack of motivation, as we all in this tough pandemic - I hope you guys are all doing well and stay happy and safe 💕

Thankfully we have our fav mcyt gang to help us through tough times :)

Ik sapnap says fuck you, but think of it in an endearing way LOL LOVE U GUYS

[jaalismyhusband]

Took you long enough

Title: Took you long enough

Pairings: Sebastian Stan x f!reader

Warnings: angst with a happy ending, explicit language, age gap, corruption kink if you squint

Wordcount: 2.9k

Masterlist

To say that these past few months have been stressful is an understatement. You were an aspiring actress and somehow landed a pretty big role in a movie. It already had some famous names attached to it and you were quite intimidated to star along the other actors. But nonetheless, you put on your big girl pants and took the opportunity. Caught in a loop of constant stress, memorizing the lines, filming the scenes, promoting the movie, you had only so much time to really appreciate what was going on. It was only after the first month of filming you realized what the hell was actually happening.

Your co-star Sebastian Stan has helped you a lot with handling everything. You remember, when you found out he was starring in the movie as well, you almost passed out. Getting to know him was such a surreal experience. Although you had a big crush on him, you stayed respectful towards him and you two became rather close friends.

To be honest, the more you got to know him, the more you liked him. And this time it wasn’t just a platonic crush. You tried to fight it, but your struggles were fruitless. You had it bad for your best friend. Acting on your feelings was not an option however. It was no secret that no woman occupied his bedroom for more than one night. You knew it was bad news to fall for him, yet you couldn’t help yourself. You liked how he didn’t pretend, but actually listened to you. How he seemed to remember even the little details you mentioned to him. How protective he was of you from the day you met, especially while defending you when people called you “the new kid” - the nickname stuck with you during the whole period of filming, much to your dislike. You knew they meant well when they called you that nickname, trying to make you feel like a part of the group. You were much younger than most of the cast, but you didn’t think of yourself as a child anymore. It seemed impossible to convince others of that, though.

Only a few people respected you enough not to use that nickname - one of them being Sebastian. At times you thought he didn’t see you as a kid with the way he treated you and you were naïve enough to get your hopes up. That was a mistake, you thought, as you watched the interview Sebastian had done earlier that day. He was asked about the cast members. You anxiously waited for your name to be mentioned, palms sweating as you guessed what he would say about you.

“What about Y/N? You seem close, not to mention how often you are spotted together.” The interviewer raised his brow, as he waited for an answer.

Sebastian smiled widely as he answered: “Yeah, we are really close. She’s like a little sister I never had, you know?”

Your heart clenched painfully, as you stopped the video. You just had to accept that it would never work. How could you be so stupid to think he’d actually like you, when he had so many women at his feet, begging to be noticed by him. You were thankful you were his friend - that had to be enough. It wasn’t, though. No matter what you told yourself, you always ended up thinking about him in inappropriate ways.

The door on your trailer opened and revealed happy Sebastian with take out.

“Hey, I thought to bring you some food, since it’s going to be a long day today.” He smiled at you as he sat down next to you on the couch, handing you your food.

“Thanks.” You smiled back. You didn’t waste time and dug in, only now realizing how hungry you were. He seemed to know you better than you knew yourself.

Sebastian broke the comfortable silence: “Hey, so, I want to ask you for advice.” Did he seem nervous? No, you thought as you hinted him to ask away.

“There’s this woman, that I like. I shouldn’t, but something about her is so intriguing, I can’t help it. And I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

“I can’t believe you are asking me for an advice on how to pick up women. You getting rusty, old man?” You joked, as his face fell in disappointment.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I think I’m ready to go all the way with her. But she’s not really – uhm, how to put it – available. That’s why I’m so nervous about it,” he sighed, as he ran a hand through his hair.

“Right, sorry. But still, I think you’re perfectly fine. Just ask her out. She’d be stupid to reject you,” you spoke sincerely.

“Thanks, I’ll go for it then.”

The rest of the lunch was enjoyed in silence.

Few days have passed and your mood seem to only decrease as the time went on. You secretly hoped Sebastian was talking about you and that he would ask you out later. But this was your life, not a romcom. Your hopes were crushed, when you asked Sebastian about it and he confirmed what seemed like your worst nightmare.

“She said yes!” he exclaimed excitedly and you gave him a hug to hide the mixture of unpleasant emotions plastered on your face.

“I’m so happy for you,” and you were, truly. As long as he was happy, you would be too. But why did it hurt so much anyway?

Ever since then, you just weren’t your ever smiling self. What you were was a millennial and you did what millennials knew best – repressed your emotions. Stuffed them deep inside your soul where nobody could acknowledge them, not even you.

The days seemed repetitive. You were exhausted from putting up a show not only when you were filming, but now also when you were in a company of your friends. Luckily, there was only one scene to film and then a much needed vacation awaited.

“CUT!” screamed the director. “What the hell Y/N?! This is the seventh take and you still can’t get it right.”

“I’m sorry, sir. I’ll get it this time, I swear,” you apologized and immediately took your spot, wanting nothing more, than to finish this scene, go home and curl up in bed while watching your favourite show.

Today was just one of those days, when it seemed like the whole universe conspired against you. First, your alarm didn’t go off, which resulted in being late on your last day. Your hands were shaking by the time you got to the set and you managed to knock over the cup of coffee, just barely missing your costume. Not to mention how anxious you were, since you were purposely avoiding Sebastian. You only missed him more and yet, you couldn’t stand being in his presence. It hurt not being able to look into his eyes. This all held you back from giving a flawless performance in front of the camera, which only frustrated you even more.

“We believe in you, kid. Breathe, focus. Action!” You were truly thankful for the support, as you finally got the scene right.

“And cut! We got it! Ok, that’s it, guys. It’s been pleasure to work with you all. As you may have heard, there will be an afterparty, if you will, tonight. Please, do come! Till then have a great day everyone!” Finished the director and people started to clap. There has been a heavy boulder of a rock lifted from your shoulders as you realized this was it. You quickly said your goodbyes to everyone, eager to go home and hide.

“Y/N! Wait!” you were on your way out when you heard your name being called. You sighed and put on a smile, before you faced Sebastian.

“Hi, I’ve tried to call you, but you weren’t picking up. You’ve been distant lately. Have you been avoiding me?” He accused.

“No! No, I uh… My phone has been malfunctioning these days, I’m getting it repaired soon,” you weren’t proud of yourself for lying to him, but you weren’t ready to tell him the truth just yet.

“Are you coming to the afterparty?” It was obvious he didn’t buy your white lie, but decided not to ponder on it.

“Oh, I don’t think I am. I’ve had an extraordinarily shitty day and I don’t wanna be a party pooper.” You immediately gave him a list of excuses.

“Yeah, yeah, quit it, queen. I’ll pick you up at 7.” He left you no space to argue and just walked away. You shook your head in disbelief and made your way home.

“Finally,” you exhaled a big breath once you collapsed on your bed. Sleep was an alluring way how to avoid your problems. So, you did the reasonable thing and took a nap.

You woke up right as the sun was setting. You still hadn’t decided if you were going to go to that stupid get together or not. You knew it would be a nice change of pace, to let go for one night. Afterall, it was a celebration of the hard work the cast had done. On the other hand, Sebastian would be there. And now that you thought about it, he would probably bring that woman, he asked out earlier. You weren’t ready to see Sebastian all lovey dovey with someone else, god no.

But this was also the chance to see him for the last time. You weren’t sure if he would keep hanging out with you after the movie was done. Tears stung in your eyes as you realized that he would probably cut ties with you. Sure, you would call each other once a week, then once a month, then only on holidays and then he would eventually stop calling you whatsoever. You were going to lose him. You were so sure of it. The tears were now streaming freely down your cheeks as you hyperventilated. All of those emotions that were supposed to stay stored away came at you at once, demanding to be experienced, to be felt.

You couldn’t calm down and there was only one person who was able to soothe you. Your best friend from high school. Due to your career you two weren’t hanging out as often as you’d like, but your bond hadn’t suffered because of that. You dialled her number after you blew your nose, so you were able to somewhat form words.

“Hi, Y/N! Oh my god, it’s been so long since we’ve actually talked!” You sobbed even harder when you heard her enthusiastic voice.

“Baby, what’s wrong? Talk to me,” she pleaded, as you tried to calm yourself enough to talk.

“Today has just been such a shitshow,” you cried out. You told her all about your day, but the topic soon enough changed to the real reason why you were crying – Sebastian.

“You know what’s the worst thing? I love him. So fucking much. And I know he doesn’t feel the same. He sees me as his little sister. SISTER. No way he would be attracted to someone he considers a sibling. Oh, and have I mentioned that now he’s suddenly had a change of heart and stopped sleeping with random women because he mEt SoMEoNe sPeCiaL?” you mocked him, “I just can’t. I know that I did this to myself and it’s not his fault, but fuck! I can’t even tell him how I feel, because there is only one scenario to this – him ending our friendship because of it. I don’t know if I’m ready to lose him completely.” You kept on rambling as your supportive friend listened, offering you her kind words here and there.

Soon after she apologized profusely, as she explained her break was over and she had to get back to work. You assured her it was okay and that you were thankful she found some time to listen to you pour you broken heart out through the phone. She ended the call by reminding you that she loved you and hung up.

You sighed and blew your nose again. You stood up from your bed, taking the used tissues with you.

“Fuck.” You stopped dead in your tracks, feeling like a deer in front of a headlights. There stood a very shocked Sebastian.

“How did you get here?”

“I came to pick you up, remember? Front door was unlocked, so I let myself in. You didn’t respond when I called your name. I looked for you and found you here, crying,” his voice cracked at his last words: “I have never seen you cry before.” He seemed truly sad, but you were too frightened to notice.

“How much of it did you hear?”

“Everything.” He exhaled and you struggled to meet his gaze. You huffed, storming out of your bedroom, leaving him behind. You just wanted to disappear right on the spot and avoid this confrontation.

You almost ran to the kitchen, throwing the tissues to the bin. You hoped this was all just a bad dream and that in fact Sebastian wasn’t here, but all that convincing was futile once you turned around and saw him sitting in your kitchen. There was a tense silence, as none of you knew what to say next. The air grew heavy, suffocating you.

“So,” Sebastian cleared his throat, “you like me?” To which you only nodded, as you leaned on the counter.

“Why?” he asked. You laughed at that, the sound so alien to you because of all the crying.

“You were nice to me from the first day. You gave me a chance to get to know you. Once we started hanging out I just, I don’t know. I like how you talked to me, like I wasn’t just the new kid. You actually listened to what I had to say. You made me feel special, Seb. Not to mention, you look like a fucking Greek god,” he chuckled at that.

“Weren’t you discouraged by my age? Or the fact that ‘I slept with random women’?” he asked, using your words against you.

“Well, I can’t blame you for that. And I can’t blame those women either. And your age never bothered me. In fact, it’s just another thing about you that turns me on.” You realized too late what you were about to say and just said it. Your eyes widened and your face heated up, as you tried to shrink your existence and hide from Sebastian’s piercing gaze.

“I turn you on?” Sebastian asked, amused by how embarrassed you were. He stood up and walked up to you. You shied away, but he trapped you in between his arms against the counter, so you wouldn’t run.

“I’d like your advice on something,” he started as he looked you straight in the eyes, “There’s this girl I’ve befriended. She’s really young and innocent, like an angel. I think I liked her right from the start, but I knew I wasn’t good for her. And yet, I can’t help but be attracted to her. I’ve tried to forget, but all those meaningless nights and faceless women couldn’t fill the void. Couldn’t erase the feelings she brought up in me every time I thought of her, saw her, touched her. I think about her almost every night. About how I’d hold her, kiss her, make her moan my name.” You squirmed under his gaze, but he paid no mind as he continued his monologue: “I fantasize about deflowering her, turning her into a mess, while I transform her into my greedy whore. The image makes me painfully hard. And now, I have a chance to make her mine. What do you say, doll? Should I go for it?” You gasped at his confession and only weakly nodded.

His lips met yours in a desperate kiss. It was all tongue and teeth. He wasn’t gentle with you by any means, not that you wanted him to be. His hands pulled you impossibly close, as they squeezed your ass, making you moan into the kiss. You both had to stop and take a breath, your foreheads connecting as you panted.

“I made her up, you know,” spoke Sebastian softly.

“What?”

“The woman. She doesn’t exist. It was you who I’ve been talking about, but then I chickened out.”

“Why?” you were curious and anxious at the same time to hear his answer.

“You called me an old man! I thought you would be creeped out!” he got defensive.

“That was a joke, Seb,” you laughed, “Why did you tell me that she accepted?”

He awkwardly scratched his neck, as he mumbled: “I didn’t want to disappoint you, that your advice hadn’t worked.” You just burst out laughing at that. Sebastian didn’t like that, as he faked getting offended and hurt, which only caused to make you cry-laugh. You finally calmed down, after a while, only now seeing how Sebastian was watching you the whole time. He gently wiped the tears away with the pad of his thumb, as he held your face.

“I love you, Seb,” it felt good to finally say it out loud. You were absolutely lovestruck and at this point you didn’t care.

“Took you long enough,” you rolled your eyes at him, as he smirked.

“I love you too, doll.”