#he fears she's gonna turn to dust one day even after marrying her and having children together

[diathadevil]

Day 7 - Scatter

His biggest fear.

(Bonus doodle underneath because I felt bad for Fakir so I ended up making this into a dream sequence comic :'] )

[reidslovely]

That’s the Price: Cruel World (Chapter Two) (Mob! Peter x Reader)

Request: Sort of. @mango-mastani brought up turning this into a mini series and i caved.

A/N: This could be a heavy chapter for some so please be aware of that, and please read the content warnings before continuing this fic.

Pairing: Mob Boss! Peter Parker x Fem! Reader 

Content Warning: Sexual allusions, mentions and brief descriptions of abuse/neglect on part of reader’s father, threats of gun violence, there is a gun present towards the end. Passing mention of blood, and beatings. 

As always please reblog and if you feel like it comment!

Dating normally was not an option in this business, Peter knew that from a young age. He had heard the stories of how his parents met, how May and Ben had met. From the age of eight he knew the pattern, knew how he would meet the woman he would one day marry.

“So this is the first date you’re having? With her I mean?”

Asked Harry, as he lounged on the blue velour couch. Peter flattened out his curls with the palm of his hands, looking in the mirror at the blonde. “You’ve known you were going to marry this girl for years and you’ve never talked?”

“I’ve..I’ve sent her letters, and flowers. Besides we’ve talked..just not alone. And I haven’t known for years I’ve known for a year.”

“Does she return the favor?” Harry laughed. “Letters I mean get your head outta the gutter.”

“Doesn’t matter Har, we gotta do this.”

“It’s sad..going on your first date with your arranged wife..at nineteen.”

The way Harry drew it out made Peter bathe himself in embarrassment and guilt. He should have tried harder, harder to get (Y/N)’s affection- break her away from her fathers grip. Harry was lucky, Norman had gotten rid of the arrangement idea for himself after his failed marriage. Now Harry got to indulge in any girl or guy who paid him any bit of their time and affection. Peter grabbed the sports coat off the back of his desk chair, heading towards the door of his bedroom.

“Goodbye Har.” Sarcasm, and annoyance dripping from his tongue. The dirty blonde laughed, raising a glass to him as his friend passed.

“Yeah, tell me all about it when you get back.”

The park the two had agreed to meet at was even more private than (Y/N) had mentioned. This was a blessing to both of them, neither were technically supposed to meet without chaperones present. Peter paced nervously looking back and forth between entrances waiting for her, his sense perking up at the sound of the entrance gate opening. Soft footsteps approached him, he stood turning to meet the girl.

“Hi..(Y/N)…” He fumbled his words out.

“Peter.” The way she looked at him was one of fear, and confusion. But under it all there was a softness. Peter looked at the flowers that rested on top of the chess table, he grabbed them, thrusting them out to her.

“Hydrangeas..they’re your favorite.” Her cheeks pushed up as she smiled slightly, suddenly forgetting what their future held. It was like a normal date.

“You remembered.”

“Of course.”

“Pete..”

Peter lifted his head finding his wife's eyes, her cheeks soft and dusted with her fancy blush. Luring a soft, content hum from his lips as he reached out for her. (Y/N) smiled sweetly, taking her place on his lap, her hands holding his shoulders. “What are you thinking about?”

You..I’ve always thought of you.

“How much of a coward your father is for pulling out of lunch. I mean c’mon I was gonna pay for him.” He laughed bitterly, the two knowing the real meaning of his words.

“I’m sure you were, baby.”

Peter hummed out a laugh, his fingers rubbing over the exposed skin of her legs. (Y/N) hummed looking at him, holding his hand there. The two had gotten closer in the weeks since their wedding, even sharing the bedroom now. However, Peter had only ever gone as far as holding her as she slept at night regardless of her ache for more. Peter Parker was raised a gentleman, for better or for worse.

“Our guests are here.” She says against his cheek, his hands holding her closer.

“And you’re up here with me, instead of downstairs playing hostess?”

(Y/N) giggled, her nose brushing against his cheek. “I find you much more interesting, Mr. Parker.” Peter laughed with her, his hands rubbing her sides.

“Up, Dove. This is in celebration of you.” Peter settles her onto her feet, fixing her dress. “You’re all bunched up. Go to the bathroom and fix that up, and I will go play host? Sounds good?”

(Y/N) nodded, wrapping her arms around his waist in a hug. Peter’s lips pressed against her forehead before sending her off to the bathroom. He closed his office door, fixing his tie and started down the stairs, Miles and Harry blocking his way halfway down.

“We have a problem..” Harry says leaning on the railing. “(Y/N)’s disappeared and we have an unwanted guest.”

“She’s not missing, she's in the bathroom cleaning up.” Peter looks over the two men’s shoulders, knowing whose face to be searching for.

“We can’t find him. He came in through the back, and ran off when we spotted him.” Miles answers as calmly as possible, not wanting to draw attention to themselves. Peter sucked in a breath, his irrational brain wanting to lock (Y/N) in the bathroom until the coast was clear. As always, the rational part took over.

“Okay, Harry, you take the front. Miles, can I trust you with both backdoors?” The young man nodded quickly, rushing off towards the back. “Harry, I need you to set parameters for the outside. He’s not leaving here.”

“But-”

“Alive, I mean. He wants to show his ass here, I’ll let him but he’s gonna deal with the aftermath. If you excuse me, I need to go get my wife.”

Peter coughed under his breath as he turned loosening his tie. Soon he was rushing back up the steps, pushing the bathroom door open; he was not met with the sight of his wife.

Here’s where the irrational part of his brain took over.

“Goddamn it.”

Peter pushes through the different bedroom doors, looking in his upstairs office once again. Peter pushed his way into the locked door of their bedroom. The handle rips off as he slams his body into the door opening it.

“What the fuck!” (Y/N) yelled out a scream covering her naked body with the new dress. She stared at her husband, whose chest heaved up and down all of his feelings boiling to the surface at once. A cold, and painful shiver ran over her body- in that moment she knew something was wrong.

“Why did you lock the door? I..was worried. I couldn’t find you.” Peter calmed himself before approaching her. (Y/N)’s hands shook as she held the dress to her, tears swelling in her eyes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Peter covered his mouth, as he held her arms.

“My zipper broke on my dress when I was fixing it in the bathroom. I needed..needed to change, I’m sorry.” She apologized to him, her heart pounding in her throat. What had she done to make him upset at her? She hiccuped as he zipped up her new dress, pulling her into a hug.

“Shush, shh shh.” Peter petted her hair, shaking his head. “It’s not you baby, I thought you were in danger was all.”

“Pete, why- why would I be in- he’s here.” She let out a shaky sigh.

“He is, was. I’m not sure where he is, but we can’t let it ruin the night okay? I will be by your side all night. I’ve got people on it.”

He grabbed her face tenderly, pulling her eye to eye with him. She nodded, her jaw tense as she held her hands over his. “If he shows back up here, I guarantee you the only way he’ll be leaving here is in a body bag.”

Peter picked up the old dress that was laying on the bed, patting the fabric on her cheeks. “Do. Not. Leave my side tonight.” He dropped the fabric pulling her into his arms.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She whispers, nuzzling her head under his chin. (Y/N) let out a shaky breath, her hands dropping from his sides as they broke apart. She tilted her head back to look at him, his lips pulling down slightly as he stared at her.

“C’mon they’re going to get restless. That’s the last thing we want tonight.”

(Y/N) hummed softly, a forced laugh leaving her lips as she and Peter made their way downstairs.

She lit up on his arm, moreso, Peter lit up on her arm. His friends and colleagues had never seen the brunette with such a loving, whimsical smile. (Y/N) couldn’t help but let out a little laugh each time Peter introduced her.

“Ah Curt, Curt. This is my beautiful, adoring wife (Y/N). (Y/N) this is..well I shouldn’t call you by that here, Dr. Connors.” He teased the older man, his grip still firm on (Y/N)’s hip. She had never fel so cared for, so adored. Almost forgetting she should be on high alert for the ghost to make his appearance, but there comes a time where she believes that maybe he had finally left her alone.

“He talks about you like that all the time you know.” (Y/N) turned to the temptress-like voice, before her stood three women all holding a drink. The dark haired girl thrusted the other glass out to her smiling. “You did what none of us could do.” She grins. “I’m Felicia this is Gwen and Mary-Jane.”

The women had been mentioned in passing, all women Peter had dated with in one way or another in his teen years. “Yes, I put two and two together.” (Y/N) smiles at the women.

She laughed taking the glass filled with the red liquid, like clockwork she looked over her shoulder checking Peter was still in her line of sight. Swirling the wine, she thought of conversation topics; this was still all so new to her.

“I mean it’s not like we had a choice, we’ve practically had this arrangement since we were kids.”

The girls laughed in response.

It wasn’t a joke.

However, she forced out a laugh with them. “Well congrats, really.” Gwen smiles. “You’re one of us now.”

“I am honored. Are there any expectations from me?” (Y/N) joked, settling into the dynamic. Mary-Jane shook her head, her hand grabbing (Y/N)’s forearm lightly.

“Of course not, you’re the wife you just have to tell us the juicy details.”

(Y/N) jumped at the sudden firm hand finding her lower back, a thumb stroking it’s way across. “Have you inducted my wife to your coven Miss Hardy?” Peter teased, nursing his whiskey.

“She was a willing participant.” Felicia's sweet voice hummed. Peter scoffed with a laugh, pressing his lips to (Y/N)’s temple. Her eyes peered up at him watching his every facial movement, he talked with the women so politely and respectfully. Asking about their jobs, Gwen and Harry’s newborn letting them know that if they ever needed anything to reach out. It was astonishing to (Y/N), that a man of Peter’s status treated women like equals.

“I need to refill my glass.” He says, (Y/N) jumps from their embrace taking his glass from his hand. “Dove, I’m a grown man, I can get it myself.”

“No please. I’ll be right back, Harry is at the bar. I'll have eyes on me.”

Dodging his argument, (Y/N) turned and rushed to the bar before Peter could say no. The bar was lined with liquor, grabbing the bourbon from the bottom shelf she poured it over the ice in his glass.

“Mrs. Parker.” Harry says urgently, as he rushed around the bar. “I need you to follo-“

A hand reached over the bar clamping down on (Y/N)’s forearm, shock settles over her body as the glass crashes to the ground.

“You think you can just throw me out of your own wedding? Forget about me?” The ghost she had forgotten abut yells in her face, practically pulling her across the bar. Osborn threw himself across the bar, pulling Tony back; pulling (Y/N) further across the bar in the fight.

“Peter!”

There was a mix of voices yelling the name, and (Y/N) wasn’t even sure if he heard them. Her eyes screwed shut, her mouth agape in pain. “Let me go, please, please. I’m sorry”

Her tears felt hot against her cheeks, as they rolled down into her mouth.

“You are so ungrateful. Without me you wouldn’t be here, you would be nothing. And you throw me out of an event I spent your whole life putting together. You fucking bitch. I have half the mind to pull you across this bar and show you your-“

Click.

The steel click of the handgun is the only other sound that filled the room besides (Y/N)’s begs and plea on top of her fathers yelling.

“You have not even five seconds to step away from her or I will lay your brains out on this floor.” Peter’s calm demeanor set an eerie feeling over the room.

“Yeah or wha-“

Peter pushed the barrel of the gun deeper against Tony’s temple, the sheer force pushing Tony’s head the other direction.

“I said. Walk. I don’t like repeating myself.”

Peter grabbed the back of Tony’s suit pulling him off (Y/N). Forcing him to walk towards his office doors. Harry grabbed the other side of Tony’s jacket, leading the way.

“Party is over, thank you everyone for coming and for your lovely gifts. Now, Miles will show you all to your cars and you can expect thank you cards very soon.”

As if nothing happened, everyone had gone back to chatting as they exited the house. (Y/N) dropped behind the bar, shaking and holding her legs closer to her. There were no tears, she couldn’t cry even if she wanted to.

“(Y/N)..” Gwen’s soft voice overtook her sense, her freshly manicured hands reaching out to her, (Y/N) took them as support as she lifted herself from the space behind the bar. She glanced at Peter's office. There were no screams, no arguing, not even a gunshot.

“No, no. Let’s get you to lay down.”

There was no fight left, she leaned on Gwen as she walked up the steps her body finally giving into the tiredness that washes over her. Gwen laid (Y/N) on the bed, and pulled her shoes off before covering her up.

“It’s alright, you need to stay up here. Go to sleep, okay.” Gwen walked to the door, closing it softly behind her.

As much as she wanted to give into the sleep she couldn’t, she tossed and threw herself around. Even using what little strength she had left to get up and change into her nightgown thinking she just needed to be more comfortable. Subconsciously, she knew it was the missing body in the bed. The only touch that could comfort her in moments like these.

(Y/N) let out a shaky breath, rolling in the bed to watch the door. Counting down, wishing that he’d walk in- but ultimately she had no idea how long it would be. She didn’t know how long it had been since the argument. She closed her eyes holding Peter’s pillow close to her chest, her eyes closing. Finally feeling warm, her body started to drift into that sweet comfort; the creaking sound for the wood door opening her sense back up.

“Peter?”

“Oh, Dove, I'm sorry.” Peter held himself at a distance, something he never did with her. Avoiding her gaze in the dark room, his hands shoved into his pockets. “Go back to sleep, I’ll be in soon.”

(Y/N) watched as he disappeared into the bathroom, the door shutting behind him. The water in the sink ran for what felt like forever, she waited like a kid for him to walk out. Finally, when the door opened and Peter settled into bed everything felt normal again. Except his distance, he laid on his left side tonight, not his right facing her. She stared at his back for only a couple seconds before pulling the fabric of his shirt. Without words he knew what she wanted, he turned to her pulling her to his chest. As his hands pulled on her she saw the red that lined his nail beds, the bruising on his knuckles, and the busted vein that left a ugly mark. Refusing to let her see it he moved his hands flat against her back, holding her as close as humanly possible.

“I’m so sorry Peter.” She says her hands rubbing his chest. Her guilt building in her chest, she drove him to that point.

“No, no. None of that- you are not to blame. He is the monster, not me. Not you.” Peter brought his hand to cradle her face, his thumb rubbing softly.

“Did you kill him?”

The question shocked Peter to a point of laughter. “No. I wish I had.” His breath came out rough, his thumb stroking her cheek. ‘Harry pulled me off. He’s dropping him off at a hospital, no questions asked.”

(Y/N) kissed his palm, her eyes fluttering closed.

“That is the price I pay for you. For my love for you.” The devotion in his voice could drive her to tears. “I would do anything for you, you know that right? Protect you to any extent I have too.” He spoke so tenderly, the tears overflowed.

“I know, I do.”

Their lips found one another like magnets, her hands grabbing his shirt in the heat of passion. This was what safety felt like, here in this moment she knew that nothing would ever take away the love they had for each other.

Tags: If you were forgotten let me know!

@a-lumos-in-the-nox @bxcketbarnes @sincericida @megmehz @andrews-lovr @helloheyhihowdyheya @toomanyfictionalboyfriends @lateridk @thatsassyhufflepuff @adhdhufflepuff @theonlymaddie

[rhaenyratargayen]

dance, baby // f.w.

summary — fred weasley is feeling sappy a month before his big brother gets married, so he takes his girlfriend out to ask the big question.

word count — 2.7k

warnings — marriage, proposing, cursing.

a/n — hi loves! this is for my bby kai’s @rcwenaclaw 1.5k followers writing challenge! congratulations my love <3 my prompt is “care to dance?” “there’s no music playing!” “so?” 

Fred held your hand tightly in his as he led you through the tall grass behind the Burrow. It was just after sundown, the air cooling as the stars appeared in the sky. You tugged Fred’s old flannel you were wearing tightly around you, squeezing Fred’s hand in the process. He looked back at you, chuckling softly when he realized his long legs were practically leaving you in the dust behind him.

“Sorry, love.” He laughed, slowing his pace.

He lifted his hand still in yours and wrapped it around your waist, pulling you close to him in the process. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and one to your lips before he continued on.

“Where are we even going, Freddie?” You asked, squinting your eyes as you looked out into the empty field.

“Patience, darling.” He chuckled, “It’ll be worth it.”

While all the other Weasleys had gone to bed after a long day, Fred was outside your door and ushering you outside before you could protest or ask why. It was June, the weather was warm and days were filled with playing quidditch and water fights with the garden hose. Even as an adult, summers spent at the Burrow were anything but uneventful.

Still, your mind often wandered to the place it was so many summers ago, reading a book with Hermione in the shade while the others played quidditch, or helping Molly cook dinner in the kitchen. Those memories were fond as they held the warmth of the burrow and the peacefulness in mind – no anxious thoughts of the Dark Lord or fear of the next war.

Your most prominent memories included your current boyfriend, although he wasn’t so fortunate to hold that title years ago.

“Fred. You prick, give me back my book.”

You were sixteen years old, hot from the beating sun, and absolutely furious at the lanky redhead before you.

Fred laughed at your harsh tone, always proud to get a rise out of you. He began running around the yard, tauntingly, with your book held high over his head and completely out of your reach.

George, Ginny, Harry and Ron all stood on the ground with their brooms, waiting impatiently for Fred to return to their game. Hermione rolled her eyes at Fred’s antics from where she sat under the shade tree, clutching her book tighter as if he would return to steal hers as well.

But you stood firm in your place, heels dug into the ground and arms crossed over your chest. You clenched your jaw, exhaling a heavy breath like a bull preparing to charge. Fred turned when he realized you weren’t after your book and looked to you with a confused frown.

“I’m not going to chase you, you git, give it back.” You scoffed, holding your hand out expectedly.

“Y/N,” Fred whined, “You’re always under that shade tree reading, come play a game with us.”

“You mean come play a game with you?” You quipped.

Fred tilted his head and scratched the back of his neck, “I mean yeah… I’ll be there too.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You huffed out a laugh.

You turned on your heel, without your book, and began stomping back to the shade tree. But a gasp left your lips as you felt a hand grab at your wrist, you whipped around to see Fred’s larger hand holding your wrist. It was one of the moments you hated Fred Weasley most; when he made you feel light as a feather with him as your only tether to the ground.

“One game,” He pleaded, “Please?”

“Oi!” Ginny’s booming voice was heard behind Fred, “Didn’t Mum ever tell you stealing isn’t a good way of flirting?”

Fred sighed dramatically as soon as he heard the cackles from his brothers at Ginny’s comment.

“Sod off!” He scoffed.

“Let’s go mate, we wanna play again.” George huffed, standing with his hands on his hips.

“‘M trying to get Y/N to play with us, then we’ll have an even six.”

Y/N sighed as the others perked up at his suggestion, suddenly in on his plan if that meant a fair game for them.

“Come on, Y/N, what do you say?” Ginny grinned.

“It’s too hot,” You protested, “I was just about to head inside, anyway.”

“Too hot? I’ve got a solution for that.”

It took you too many seconds to realize what George meant, and before a scream of protest could leave your lips you were being soaked from head to foot as George raised his wand in the air, the garden hose raining over you and Fred like a downpour.

All were silent as the water stopped, revealing your absolute furious expression and clenched fists.

“This is your fault, Weasley.” You spoke dangerously quiet to Fred.

He bit his lip to contain the bark of laughter he so desperately wanted to let out, and he couldn’t help but find you absolutely adorable in that moment.

“And you’re gonna pay for it.”

You began chasing Fred just as he had wanted in the beginning. He laughed loudly as he weaved through the tall grass, slowing his speed to allow you almost close enough to catch him before he ran off again. Soon enough your screams of fury were cut up by laughter and Fred finally let you catch him, laughing uncontrollably when you knocked him to the ground.

Memories like that kept you feeling afloat, kept the light burning when things became too hard to handle. Any memory you had with Fred you held close to your heart, treasuring them all individually, afraid to lose them.

It wasn’t long after that you had become Fred’s official girlfriend. After years of mutual pining and immaturely making each other jealous as teenagers, all it took was one insufferable Dolores Umbridge to bring the two of you together ultimately on the day of the twin’s escape from Hogwarts.

Your boots clicked rapidly against the floor as you rushed to the top of the stairs where the boys were waiting. You desperately hoped you weren’t too late.

The thought of not having Fred in your life overcame any pride you had. Not having him scared you, and with the clock ticking down on your realization, you rushed to find Fred to let him know how you felt before he was gone.

“Fred.” You sighed in relief as you spotted two redheads looking over the balcony of the staircase. Below you could see the hall filled with students taking their exams as Fred and George waited for their opportune moment.

“Y/N?” Fred turned back with a surprised grin.

He wasn’t sure he would see you before he left, after all you two didn’t get along. He worried that the banter you two had wasn’t a cover up for your feelings for one another, he worried maybe you truly didn’t like him, but all of his anxious worries washed away the moment he saw the adoration on your face as you saw him.

He rushed towards you and wrapped his arms around you, digging his face into the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent as your arms wrapped around his neck. He felt his stomach fill with the familiar flutters he felt around you, but it was different this time because he knew you were feeling them too.

“I was afraid I was too late.” You sighed as you pulled back.

Fred kept his arms around you, keeping you close to him and savoring the moment he longed for before he was off and out of this school forever.

“I would’ve waited ages for you, darling.” The sincerity in his tone stole your breath, your vision now only filled with everything Fred Weasley.

“I’m gonna miss you, Freddie.” You muttered, afraid if you spoke up you might break under the thought of him leaving after you finally confessed.

“Hey,” He cooed, petting your hair, “It’s only two months before you're out of here for good too, and when you are I’ll be waiting for you to get off the train and we can pick up where we left off, yeah?”

You nodded, holding on to the promise of his words and the love you felt for him. With a confident inhale, you put on a smile as you blinked up at him. You fell for the mischief in his eyes in that moment, the mischief that couldn’t wait to go out with a bang and start up a joke shop with George.

“I’ll see you soon, then?” You giggled softly.

“Sooner than you think.”

Suddenly you felt his hands cupping your face as he stared down at you in adoration, like he was holding his entire world in his hands. He waited for you to nod slightly at him before he dipped down and connected his lips with yours.

It was euphoric, to finally kiss him after so long. The kiss held a thousand meanings; a hello and a goodbye. You clung to him at the thought, sucking lightly on his bottom lip and feeling him tug you closer in return. You chased his lips as he pulled back, and he indulged you with one last kiss before he was off on his broom.

“I’ve been patient long enough, Freddie,” You laughed, “Are we almost there now?”

Fred smiled back at you but didn’t answer, he only continued with your hand in his until the two of you reached the peak of a small hill. You gasped as you reached the top, his question suddenly answered as you caught a glimpse of floating lights circling around a picnic blanket laid out in the grass.

“Oh, Freddie.” You sighed happily, taking the lead as you rushed towards the comfortable spot.

“I told you it’d be worth it.”

Fred placed his hand on your waist and spun you to face him, his lips colliding with yours before you could even comprehend his actions. You smiled instantly, pausing the kiss to giggle softly before you wrapped your arms around his neck and sunk to the ground over the blanket.

“I love you.” You sighed against his lips.

Fred hummed in return, moving to hover over you. His thumb ran softly over your hip as his lips peppered kisses along your cheek and the corner of your mouth.

“Trust me, not as much as I love you.”

You scoffed, playfully, fighting back wordlessly as you caught his lips again in a kiss. He exhaled a breathy laugh at your actions, pecking your lips several times before he pulled away and sat up.

“Merlin, you’re perfect.” He muttered to himself as he watched you sit up to face him, pure innocence on your face as he knew you had no idea of the events to come for the night.

A smile rose to your lips, along with growing affection in your chest as you moved to sit beside him, tucking your face in his chest as he wrapped his arms around you once again.

“You’re rather needy tonight, aren't’ you love?” He teased.

“Well you’re being awfully romantic.” You quipped back.

He chuckled to himself, “You have no idea.”

You sat there for a moment, enjoying being in each other’s arms under a starry night sky. His scent filled your senses, lulling you to a state of uteral peace, a state your mind brought you to everytime you thought of him. Fred was where you always wanted to be, not only was he the love of your life but he was your home as well.

“Care to dance?” He spoke up, suddenly.

Your brows furrowed as your head shot up to face him. He had an obnoxiously adorable smile on his face, one that could unknowingly make you do absolutely anything. The air had started to cool and you were much warmer cuddled up beside him, but his smile was far too adorable to immediately shut down his offer.

“Fred,” You laughed, softly, “There’s no music playing.”

Fred scoffed playfully, immediately standing to his feet confidently.

“So?” He shrugged, holding his hand out to you, “When has something like that ever stopped me before?”

You bit your lip as your eyes met his, sharing the mischievous glint you used to hate so much. It had grown on you in the best possible way, becoming one of the things you loved about your boyfriend most.

With a knowing head tilt from Fred, you playfully rolled your eyes in protest before you slapped your hand in his, snickering as you heard his laughter roar as he pulled you to your feet.

He pressed a kiss to your forehead before he twirled you around and into his chest. His hand fell at your waist, the other holding yours delicately in the air beside you. You hadn’t even thought about the absence of music, instead finding yourself getting lost in how he held you.

Being near Fred was simultaneously dizzying and grounding. Your overwhelming love for him sometimes had you feeling like you were floating on cloud nine, slipping out of this reality and into one where you could be with him forever, but the tenderness in his voice as he spoke to you, the firmness in the way he held you; grounded you to the point where you didn’t feel like you needed to drift away to another reality, this one was just fine as long as he was in it.

“What’re you thinking about, princess?” Fred rested his head on yours, not even needing to look at you to know what your silence meant.

“You,” You sighed, honestly, “I love you.”

Fred stopped swaying and pulled back to look at you, cupping your face in his hand the instant you raised your head.

“I know you’re scared, Merlin, I am too,” He sighed, “But it doesn’t seem so scary when I look at you. It doesn’t seem like some mountain to overcome, it just seems like an obstacle to face, and we will face it. When I look at you, I don’t worry about the fear because I know when we come out on the other side you’ll still love me like you do now.”

Your eyes flitted between his, holding on to every word he said. You sank into the feeling of his hold on you, your own hands clasping together around his neck. He bit his lip as he paused, tearing his gaze from the landscape behind you to look you in the eyes.

There it was, that mischievous glint. And before you could question the suspicious romantic actions of your boyfriend, he had lowered himself on one knee before you. You gasped as he took your hands in his, running his thumb along your knuckles comfortingly, like he knew how rapid your heart was racing as his was too.

“I’m scared, fuckin’ hell I am,” Fred nodded rapidly, “But Bill and Fleur are getting married in two months. They aren’t letting the fear stop them from being with each other and that’s how I feel with you, Y/N. Whatever happens is worth it to me if you and I are together in the end.”

Your hands shook in his, silent tears streaming down your face as you longed to jump into his arms. You knew your answer, he knew your answer, but you awaited the moment and welcomed it graciously.

“You are the love of my life,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black velvet box, opening it to you to reveal a stunning ring, “Love, will you do me the honor of marrying me?”

Your tears fell as the words left his lips, and you were nodding before you could choke out a coherent, ‘yes’. Fred cried as well, his tears falling rapidly as he slid the ring on your finger, he took a moment to admire it, capturing the image in his mind.

He held you tightly as you jumped into his arms once he stood, your lips finding his immediately. You kissed Fred Weasley with a passion you hadn’t felt before, melting into his embrace as the weight of the ring on your finger sunk in. You were to be his and he was to be yours, fully and officially.

“I love you.” Fred mumbled against your lips as he pulled away, breathless.

As your eyes searched the face of your fiance, no trace of fear settled in either of your minds. You were joined in a love much deeper than any dark magic or fear could penetrate.

“I love you, Fred Weasley.”

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

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[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

“You will learn to love me.” - With Heisenberg and restorator darling, please? Perhaps when this is her first experience?

Heisenberg/F!Darling: "You'll learn to love me."

TW: Dubcon, loss of virginity, forced marriage

Weddings were usually a joyous affair. Gorgeous dresses, dancing and enjoying your loved ones' company, celebrating the life you wanted to share with your one-and-only... ____'s wedding was not at all like what she or her family might have hoped it would be. For one thing, none of them even knew where she was; she'd spent the last few months trapped by the terrifying man who'd kidnapped her from the Romanian wilderness, a man named Heisenberg who had a gift with metal that bordered on supernatural. As a restorator she would've been fascinated if she wasn't terrified of what he could do with that power of his, especially when his "work" littered his factory with corpses and their scattered body parts. The only other company she had were the wolflike monsters and patchwork creations that followed Heisenberg's orders.

He'd actually bothered to get a wedding dress for her, an admittedly beautiful traditional gown made by the women in the village. The delicate lace along the sleeves and the vibrant embroidered flowers and patterns on the vest looked so out of place in the dusty and rusted-out factory. The villagers were eager to celebrate their Lord's marriage and hadn't stopped sending flowers, pastries, clothing, and handmade talismans for long-life/love/fertility to the outskirts of Heisenberg's property until he'd stationed some of the Lycans to scare off the throngs of annoying worshippers and well-wishers. ____ didn't know if it was better or worse that Heisenberg and her would be the only ones at the wedding; she was terrified of being alone with him, but the way the villagers stared at her and threw themselves to the ground while reverently calling her "Lady Heiseberg" left her uncomfortable to say the least.

____ stared at her reflection in the mirror and tried her best to prepare herself for what was to come. I can still try to escape, but...being his wife just makes it feel more hopeless. She bit the inside of her cheek and glared at the reflection of her dress through her veil. I'll have to be tied to him, even if I'm being forced to say those fucking vows to always stay with him until "death to us part."

She didn't hate him, at least not as much as she did when he'd first taken her. She definitely feared him, but that was just common sense when your captor has an army of corpse-machines, werewolves, and can control electricity and metal with his mind. He'd been more accommodating than he'd expected for a kidnapper. He had been sexually forceful sometimes whenever he groped her or turned her head to kiss her, or lightly rutted against her body when the two of them slept in the same bed. But he'd also given her a room to herself, and insisted on not forcing himself on her completely until he'd made her his wife--another reason she was dreading this day. He'd appreciated her restoration skills and the two of them had actually shared some enjoyable conversations while spending time in his workshop. And he was fiercely protective of her when it came to his equally monstrous siblings and mother. Part of it seemed to be selfishness, not wanting them to go after HIS woman, but he'd consoled her after that wretched little doll of Lady Beneviento's had insisted on "playing" with her by chasing her and tearing at the flesh and skin of her legs. His voice had been soft when he'd promised to not let anyone hurt her, and having him hold her was comforting.

The sound of her bedroom door opening snapped ____ out of her thoughts, and she saw Heisenberg walk into the room. He wasn't wearing his usual trenchcoat, and instead had on an outfit that ____ had never seen him in before: a black vest with similar embroidery to her own outfit, along with a white blouse underneath with fur-trimmed black sleeves. His pants were also black, save for the bit of dust around the hem from walking around the factory. His shoes were made from dark leather and had the same fur trim as his shirtsleeves and the inside of ____'s vest. His signature sunglasses were absent, and his hair was freshly washed and combed.

Heisenberg stared at ____ for a moment, looking her up and down as she stood in her wedding clothes. He had seen what they'd looked like folded up and hanging in her closet, but it was nothing compared to her wearing them. He wasn't used to seeing something so delicate and beautiful, especially in his factory. "Everything's ready," he said. He put one arm around ____'s waist and kept a gentle yet firm grip around her. "Since Miranda gave us her 'blessing' beforehand, we don't need to have her here to watch and attend in all her glory," he quipped. "God knows that bitch would ruin this whole thing just by being here."

____ let Heisenberg lead her to his own room, where a small leather box lay on his bedside table. He used his powers to shut and lock the door behind ____ while he went to grab the box. "I don't have much from my real family," Heisenberg said, carefully opening the lid. The inside was lined with cloth, and inside was a pair of exquisite wedding bands. There were some signs of age in the metal, but the small opalescent jewel nestled in the center of the bridal ring shone as if it had been polished just yesterday. The other ring was less flashy, with the only flair being am etched ridge in the shape of a mountain on the top, inlaid with gold. "This ring's one of the only things I've got from them." He took the groom's ring and slipped it on his own finger. "I want to say it was one of my great uncles who made it? One of them was a jeweler, I think." He shrugged and held his hand out to admire how it looked. "My mom slipped them into my things after Miranda's people had come to take me and my cousins away. I think she knew it'd be the last time she saw all of us together."

____ noticed the strange tone in Heisenberg's voice as he recalled his last memory with his family. She'd never heard him reminisce about them before; with how far-off and melancholy he sounded, she knew why it wasn't something he discussed that often. Just as she was about to try to say something to try and comfort him, he took the bride's ring with one hand and slipped the box into his pocket. He took ____'s hand and squeezed it. "There's no set of vows we have to take," he explained with a half-smile. "One of the perks of being royalty in this shit hole is anything you do is fine, no matter how informally you do it. Not like the villagers are gonna complain about us not following all the traditions, so it saves a lot of time. But..." Heisenberg stared intensely at her as he slipped the ring onto her trembling finger. "One day, you'll learn to love me. I promise that."

____'s hand felt as if it were chained to a sinking weight, pulling her through the ground and crushing her. There was no way out. She'd be "married" to this man who'd ruined her life, isolated from the rest of the world and completely at his mercy. Her heart leaped into her throat and she suddenly felt a rush of dizziness; she stumbled forward and Heisenberg caught her, helping her back upright and holding her in his arms. He brushed her clothed hip with his thumb and then lifted her veil to fully reveal her face. Before ____ knew it, Heisenberg's lips were against hers as he tilted her head back slightly to deepen the kiss.

Heisenberg ran his fingers through her hair as he lowered her onto his bed. ____'s heart raced and panic ran up and down her spine as she lay on the bed. He was taking off his shoes, unbuttoning his vest...reaching down to take off her veil. "K-Karl," she stammered, "I'm not...I've--"

"Never done this before?" He rested one hand on her vest before unbuttoning the golden clasps and sliding it off of her shoulders while she just tried her best to stay still. "I figured as much." Heisenberg smirked and moved one hand underneath the skirt of her dress, creeping up her thighs and stopping just inches from her panties. "You always get that funny little look on your face whenever I touch you for a bit in bed, almost like you're feeling a certain way for the first time. Wouldn't surprise me if you've never even touched yourself."

Goosebumps rose on ____'s legs as Heisenberg ghosted his fingers over her pubic mound, and she looked away as she rubbed her thighs together. Was she really THAT obvious about it? "I know I can't stop you," she said quietly. She bit her lip and tears welled up in her eyes as she tried her hardest to not envision what ____ was about to do to her. Maybe he'd start to tire of her once he finally fucked her and got what he really wanted, and he'd let her go. Would she get blood on the sheets and her dress when he entered her? Would he even care? She could already feel his cock prodding her through his pants; it was a strange, foreign presence that filled her with dread. She knew that some men had penises so large that they could fill someone up all the way to their cervix...just how painful was this going to be once he took all of his clothes off? How harsh would he be now that he didn't feel the need to be so accommodating and kind once he finally claimed her?

____ sniffled and looked up at Heisenberg pitifully. "Please be gentle," she begged. "I don't want...I know it can hurt a lot during your first time, so just..."

Heisenberg cocked his head slightly and rested his fingers on the flesh of her right thigh. "It can hurt if you don't do it right," he replied, sounding a little confused. "What, you think I'm just gonna whip my cock out, go in dry, and finish after a few pumps?"

____ looked up at him, not sure of what to say. "You want to f-fuck me, don't you?" She sounded more confused than accusatory. "That's why you kidnapped me. That's why you've tried to be nice to me and make me trust you." Her shoulders drooped slightly and she clenched her jaw. "I just figured that you wouldn't care that much about...about making me feel good, at least not as much as yourself."

Heisenberg's brows furrowed, but only for a moment before leaning down to kiss her again. ____'s eyes widened at just how gentle this kiss was compared to the one he'd given her after slipping his ring on her finger. "I didn't kidnap you just to be a cocksleeve," he replied with a slightly disappointed frown. He caressed the inside of her thigh and trailed his lips down to her collarbone. "If I wanted that, I would've just raped you the first night you were here." ____ moaned softly as he moved one hand underneath her blouse to massage her breast, and a sudden rush of heat pooled between her legs as he used his other hand to play with an extra-sensitive bundle of nerves through her underwear.

"Kidnapping you doesn't really help my case," he said begrudgingly, "But I do love you, you know. As much as I can love anyone after the shit I've been through." He toyed with her nipple and smiled when he felt her hips rock a bit as he circled around her clit through her panties. "You're not my whore, you're my wife. So tell me what you want, and how you want it. And I'll give it to you."

____'s entire body felt so warm underneath her wedding dress. The places he was touching her felt so tingly, just like how they did whenever he groped her before tonight. Somehow though, this was different. Her fear wasn't as prevalent and the heat bubbling up underneath her skin wasn't from shame. This felt gentler. This felt good. So, so good. He wasn't lying to her about doing whatever SHE wanted; for once, she felt like she had a semblance of control while in bed with him--previously her kidnapper, but now her husband.

____'s voice was breathier than she expected whenever she spoke again. "C-could...could you put your mouth on me?" She rested one shaky hand by her chest on top of his own. "On my breasts, where your hand is right now. I want to f-feel more of...of this." She was struggling to articulate just what she was feeling and what she wanted, but Heisenberg just grinned as if he'd heard her loud and clear. When he lifted her thin white blouse over her head, leaving her in just her skirt, panties, and stockings, he immediately latched onto her right breast while he continued to play with her left nipple. ____ gasped and bucked her hips as he swirled his tongue around the pebble of flesh; his stubble grazed her soft skin, and the texture made her shiver.

Heisenberg finally moved his lips back with a small pop and switched to her other breast while he circled even faster around her clitoris and occasionally stroked the damp spot around her cunt's lips. "Can you feel how wet you are down here?" He chuckled and hooked one finger around the waistband of her panties before pulling them off of her completely. "I definitely won't hurt you if you're dripping like this from just my fingers." He slowly inserted his middle finger inside of her tight walls and eagerly looked at her face as she moaned and moved her hips to take even more of his hand. "Does it hurt, honey?"

"Ah, n-no..." ____ had never felt so hot and lightheaded and FULL. There was a stretch, but it wasn't painful; if anything, she wanted to feel more and more of it. "It feels good, so good..." Heisenberg curled his finger inside of her and laughed again at how his wife cried out in pleasure, practically shoving her pelvis forward to fuck herself on his hand while her pussy clenched around him. "More, more, please! That felt even better, do it again--o-or, or put another finger inside, or your whole hand or your cock or--"

Heisenberg shushed her and slightly increased his pace as he slipped another finger inside of her. "Easy, tiger," he teased with a smile. "I'm not using my cock until you cum at LEAST once on my hand. I haven't even gotten to taste you yet!"

"But...don't you want to feel good t-too?"

Heisenberg felt his hard-on stabbing through his clothes as he rutted his hips against the mattress. He'd get some relief soon, but for now he wanted to show her just what she really meant to him. He could fill her up with his cum and fuck her silly later--right now, he wanted to make sure his perfect little wife enjoyed every single second of her wedding night the way she deserved.

This WAS a celebration of their love, after all.

[missymurphy1985]

The Entanglement (part three)

Warning - cheating / abuse / domestic violence

Taglist @queenshelby @margoo0 @being-worthy @peakyscillian @peakyciills @janelongxox @elenavampire21 @ysmmsy @cloudofdisney @lauren-raines-x @namelesslosers @misscarolineshelby @screemqueen @cilleveryone @peaky-cillian @misselsbells06 @datewithgianni @heidimoreton

"You gonna tell me where you were last night?" He snapped, without even saying hello.

Becky was making breakfast when she heard the familiar sound of her husband walking through the door and down the hallway the morning after her 'night'.

"I told you. I went to Paddy's birthday party and came home around 10."

"You came home, huh? Funny, because I was here and you fucking weren't." She turned round sharp, a stunned expression on her face.

"Daniel..."

"I was here. Waited for you. Wanted to surprise my wife. She, apparently, had other plans. So where were you?"

"I stayed at Laura's. I know you don't like her much so I didn't want to say.."

"Lies!!! Fucking lies!! Who was he?!" He moved to her quickly, his hand gripping her jaw as he pushed her against the wall. She tried to scream but his hand gripped tighter. She knew fighting him was pointless - he overpowered her every time.

She felt a sharp pain across her cheek and fell to the floor. She couldn't even cry, all she felt was numb. After nearly 2 years of it, she came to expect it. What she wasn't expecting, was the knife he pulled out and held to her throat as she lay on the floor.

"No one. I mean NO ONE touches my property Becky. And YOU belong to ME. Now tell me who he was, or I'll cut out each of your teeth - one for every lie you tell me, including the ones you've already told..."

"Please, Danny, don't do this! Please! It was all me, no one else is to blame okay?"

"I give you one night to go to that party. One night out with your Aunt as she hadn't seen you in 'so long'.. why you'd want to spend any time with them is beyond me. All you need is ME - haven't you ever wondered why no one bothers to contact you anymore? They hate you! Couldn't wait to marry you off to me so you'd be my fucking problem instead of theirs! I've been here for you through everything, and THIS is the thanks I get?!"

"Danny please!"

"Tell me his name. TELL ME HIS MOTHER FUCKING NAME BITCH!!!" Another slap, the blade of the knife tighter against her skin. Tears streaming down her cheeks now. She'd felt fear before but this was something else. Sheer terror flooded her entire body. The knife was digging so hard into her skin, she could feel the blood trickling down her neck.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, she couldn't tell him, she wouldn't tell him. This wasn't his fault.

"Do what you need to do Danny. I won't tell you his name."

"You're an idiot, putting some random man's life over your own."

"You call this a life? Having my every move watched and monitored. Having my life controlled? Taking a slap or a kick when I over cook your steak, or forget to put sugar in your coffee, or miss a speck of dust on the coffee table..."

Her sudden strength was rewarded with a knee to the stomach, winding her.

"You're an ungrateful little slut, you're lucky to have me!! Who else would put up with your sorry ass huh? NO ONE!"

She cowered down, feeling the knife leave her throat as he backed away from her.

"I'll find out who you were with, and he better be ready to lose some blood when I catch hold of him. Get this fucking kitchen cleaned up before I get back."

************************************************************

A few days later, she was out grocery shopping. Her phone pinging every ten minutes with text messages reminding her that he knew her exact location at all times. His phone tracking her phone and it's every move.

She rounded the corner of the supermarket, and froze. He was there. Right in front of her. Her palms sweating as she started to panic. He turned around, and made eye contact and the look of annoyance in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Becky." Cillian spoke, taking a deep breath. "Sunglasses indoors is an interesting look."

"Cillian..."

"Don't bother. I don't think an apology is gonna cut it, do you?"

She wiped a tear from her eye, wincing slightly as it passed over the bruise, covered by the large sunglasses. He moved towards her slowly, and reached a hand up to them, stopping when she flinched.

"It's okay..." He whispered, and his hand gently lifted the glasses. He didn't flinch. He didn't say a word.

"Let me guess. Walked into a door?"

She didn't move. She looked around her, panic in her eyes.

"I'm clumsy, what can I say. I have to go."

"Becky!" He called after her, but she was away in seconds. He wanted to follow her, he couldn't explain why, but he felt an overwhelming need to. He watched her pay for her shopping, and practically run out of the store. Picking up his phone, he called his brother.

"Pad? I need your help, man."

[wicked-hg]

Love, The Weasleys || g.w.

Day 12 of @jamilelucato and @whack-ed Very Harry Potter Christmas.

George Weasley x muggleborn!reader

Prompt: Writing Christmas cards

Summary: George never knew about Christmas cards until you.

A/N: This ended up being more about Christmas cards in general than writing them. Hope you all enjoy! I’m thinking about maybe writing more.

WC: 2.3k

Y/H/C- your hair color ; Y/L/N- your last name ; Y/H- your house (except Gryffindor. Sorry. I didn’t realize my mistake when writing this. You’ll understand at the end. Forgive me.)

First year George wasn’t expecting anything from you during Christmas break. You were a muggle-born he had met one day running away from Filch after getting separated from Fred. You two became friends as you became a silent partner and helped with their escape plans. George didn’t realize you had an owl. 

George opened the envelope and stared at the strange letter that had a picture on the front with reindeer pulling a fat man in red robes in a red cart. The front read “May all your wishes be granted”. George curiously opened the strange letter. A still photo of your family stared up at him. He moved it to the side. Printed inside was “Happy Christmas with lots of joy!” Signed underneath was The Y/L/N Family. On the opposite side was a note from you. 

George,

I hope you have a Happy Christmas with your family! I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything in time. I promise to have something for you on the train. Miss you lots dear friend!

Sincerely,

Y/N

“Mum, Dad,” George asked. “Do you know what this strange letter is? My muggle-born friend sent it to me.”

“That’s a Christmas card,” Charlie piped up. “We learned about muggle Christmas traditions before break. Muggles send cards out to family and friends during the holidays. Sometimes they send pictures and longer notes to catch up with people. It’s just a way to celebrate the holidays. Professor Quirrell didn’t really understand them.”

George nodded and stared at the card. He looked over at the picture of your family. You were in the middle with a giant grin and a red sweater. Peeping up from the bottom of the photo, he swore it was the beginning of a gold G. “I like these strange letters. Christmas cards you say, Charlie?”

———————

George stared out of the window in hope. Fred watched his twin while he sat on his bed and worked on pranks for their shop. “She doesn’t even know we’re here, Georgie. How can you expect Y/N to send you a Christmas card when she doesn’t know where you’re staying?”

“She will!” George argued. “She always does.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you George? It doesn’t matter that she is finally your girlfriend after you both finally got it through your thick heads.”

George shook his head. “I didn’t tell her. She knows we are not at the Burrow. She thinks we’re staying with Aunt Muriel. I told her to send the letter to the Burrow. Errol is there waiting for the trade off. Told her it was too far for Sova to fly the whole way.”

Fred shook his head. “You’re letting Errol deliver your happiness? Oh Georgie. You’re doomed.”

George stuck his tongue out at his twin before turning back to the window. Soon, he thought, Errol should be here soon. As if by magic, the shadow of Errol appeared in the distance. George scrambled to grab the owl treats he had waiting on the window sill. 

“Cmon, you stupid old owl. Come get the treat and give me that letter,” George almost shouted. Fred shushed him. The last thing either of them needed was for someone to wake up and discover what they are both up to. “Incoming, Freddie! He’s coming in hot!”

Fred quickly stumbled out of bed and grabbed a pillow as George made the window wider and grabbed another pillow to go under Fred’s. Errol blasted through the window and hit the pillow at Fred’s chest before falling onto the pillow George held underneath. George laid the treats next to the owl and snatched the letter. This year glittery snowflakes adorned the front with “May your life be full of flurries of happiness”. The inside read similar like every year with something about having a happy Christmas, the family signature, and the family picture. Just like always too, there was a note from Y/N. 

Darling George,

Give my love to your family. I do hope your father is okay and recovering well. I also hope that the hag of an aunt you call Muriel is treating you all well too. It was a bummer to end term without you, but alas I know I’ll be doing it once more. One of us has to have a diploma, even if I will end up working with you. Don’t throw a fit, my darling George. I know I can do more with my life, but this is what I want. I already made that clear to my parents. They’ve accepted my choice. Back to end of term. It was okay. It would have been better if Umbitch wasn’t there. She did leave me alone though...unwillingly. Somehow she kept getting fed your nosebleed nougats and lost quite a bit of blood. Hmmmm. Who knows how that happened. I certainly don’t, and neither do Peeves or that elf Dobby your brother knows. Mum and Dad and those idiot brothers of mine say hello. They’re all glad I finally officially have you as mine. Apparently they’ve always known too. Perhaps I should tell them the truth about our Yule Ball last Christmas and we went as much much more than best friends. I’ll give you your present on the train back. Take care, darling. Do enjoy your break. Miss you tons, but I love you more. 

Love always,

Y/N

George grinned at the card. “She’s brilliant, Freddie. Absolutely brilliant.”

——————

George was nervous as he handed Fred the card. It was still early in the morning. The Hogwarts express had gotten back the day before, which meant the holiday rush will be hitting soon. Y/N was managing the store with Verity while George and Fred were going over some inventory in the back. Fred stared at the envelope before gingerly opening it. He smiled at the card with a fireplace wishing him a warm and festive holiday. “Well finally, Georgie boy,” Fred grinned. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to tell the Y/L/N to include me in their list of Christmas card receivers.”

George didn’t say a word and just motioned for his brother to open it. Fred opened the card. Staring back at him was a muggle photo of Y/N and George. Both were grinning in the midst of pine trees. George’s arms were wrapped around Y/N and she was leaning into his chest. Fred moved the picture to be greeted with the typical Y/L/N family picture, but he very quickly noticed his twin was a part of the family photo. Moving the photos he saw the card was signed by The Weasleys, but it was in Y/N’s handwriting. On the left side of the card, Fred was greeted with the familiar sight of George’s writing. 

Forge,

Y/N told me I didn’t have to write you a note updating you on my life because we live and work together and see each other every day. But where is the fun in that? I want you to have a true Christmas card experience! We’ve been through so much this year, Freddie. I’m just glad I got to experience it with you along the way. As you can see, I’m a part of the Y/L/N Christmas cards now. Y/N is my everything. I have to thank you. Thank you for giving me the pushes to make her mine. It’s no lie written in the card, Forge. She’s gonna be a Weasley. Will you be my side as I celebrate my new life? There’s no one else I’d want. Let’s celebrate Christmas with a bang. 

Gred

Fred immediately looked up. “You serious, Gred?”

“Absolutely, Forge. There’s no one else for me, and with the war and her being a muggle-born. It’s just going to be a quick muggle ceremony. Once the war is over, we’ll do the real thing.”

“Why muggle?”

“She’s read about wizard tradition. She wants to experience that and have her family see it too. Besides, if we did a quick magic ceremony, her family wouldn’t be allowed to come. With a muggle ceremony too, if anything happens she can easily blend right in and be taken care of.”

“You sure about this, George? I’m not talking you out of it. I know she’s perfect for you, but I want you to be happy.”

George smiled and hugged his brother. “I am, Fred. I have everything I want right now. Her. You. The store. I just want to make her as permanent in my life as you are.”

Fred chuckled. “Well I am amazing. It’s only a given. But George, have you told mum and dad yet?”

“They’re getting a Christmas card from Y/N and I. All the family is. They also got one specifically from her family.”

“I meant do mum and dad know you and Y/N are getting married?” George stayed quiet. “Oh Gred. What have you gotten yourself into?

————————

George found you at the kitchen table writing a list. “Making a list and checking it twice, darling?” George joked. 

You smiled and kissed him. It was good to hear those little quips from him. When the war hit hard and Fred was killed, you worried he wouldn’t laugh again or joke. You feared the store would stay closed and layers of dust would settle over the products. It took George a few months, but they got the store up and going again. You knew he wouldn’t be the same without Fred, but it was good to see him somewhat the same again. “It’s what he’d want, Y/N,” he told you when working on cleaning up the store. “He wouldn’t want me to give up everything we’d ever hope for.”

“Very funny, George darling. I’m making a list of who we need to send Christmas cards too. My mum called and said the prints were in. Which reminds me, you need to make a list of which friends and extended relatives you want cards to go to and get their addresses.”

“We’re still doing this?”

You gave him a funny look. “Of course, darling. Why else would we have taken pictures with my family and gone to Selfridges to buy cards and some decorations?”

“Well I knew your family would still send cards out and that’s why they needed us there,” he answered. “They haven’t gone through a war.”

“But isn’t that why we should do this?” You asked. “So many people have gone through pain and sorrow this year. Let’s give them something to smile about, George darling.”

George gave another weak smile. “Fred loved the cards,” he whispered. “He always got excited when I got them and started bugging me 3rd year that he wanted to be in on it. He was so excited when I gave him his first card. I don’t know what I’ll do this year.”

You brought George closer to you. “You can still write him a Christmas card, George. The box is down stairs that you guys started your business out of. You can keep all the Christmas cards you write to him in there. It might sound weird, but I think it’ll be good for you. Include the pictures too. What do you think, darling?”

George kissed your cheek. “You’re an angel. You know that? You don’t think it’s weird?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought it was. I think it’ll be good for you, George. It’ll be therapeutic in a way.” You pushed a card and envelope towards George. “This can be his. Why don’t you go grab your coat. We can go pick up the photos and then grab some lunch at the fish and chip shop down the road.”

“Maybe on the way back we can stop at that bakery by Flourish and Blotts,” he suggested. “I saw you looking at those cauldron cakes and strawberry trifles the other day.”

You grinned and kissed him. “Of course, Georgie darling.”

———————

“Y/N!” George shouted. “Where is the box? I have Fred’s card done.”

“Check the office, darling!” You answered. “I put it there so we didn’t lose it. I’m off to the station now. I’ll be back in a half hour.”

George entered his office and found the orange box he stored Fred’s Christmas cards in. A mouse wearing Christmas tree sunglasses and a Santa hat. He stuck the picture inside the card before putting it in the box. No longer was the photo of Y/N’s family included when sending out cards. Instead the photo was of George and Y/N wearing their Weasley sweaters. In front of them were two smaller red heads and a light haired Y/H/C also wearing their Weasley sweaters. 

George smiled as he put the box back on the book shelf. “Until next Christmas, Forge.”

———————

Dear Forge,

It’s been a crazy year. The last of this Weasley clan has joined Hogwarts. It’ll be interesting to see if the twins follow in our footsteps. Anya is in Gryffindor and Fred is in Y/H. Part of me is glad Fred isn’t in Gryffindor. It would’ve been cool, but this way I hope he will be able to forge his own path. Forge. Hah! Get it? Clara is studying for her OWLS this year. I found some of our old charms, defense, herbology, transfiguration, and potions notes. I let her into our little secret that we are quite smart but just never turned our assignments in. She was thankful. She’s definitely my daughter. She acts like me so much, but she’s definitely loud like you with that Gryffindor bravery. I miss you, brother. Y/N was right though; this has definitely helped me. Hopefully you get these wherever you are. Happy Christmas, Freddie!

Love, Gred and his Weasleys

[anonniemousefics]

hi!! i’ve read all al your “his monstrous bride” and cardan pov fics and i’m in love with them, could you do maybe one about the scene when you declares his love for jude just before they face madoc, i’d love it 🥺👉🏻👈🏻

You guyyyyys 😂 I feel like this is the laziest writing ever. 🙈 Like, the dialogue and the action are already there - I’m just hacking into Cardan’s brain and rehashing what we already know? I feel like it’s the writing equivalent of lying on the floor and dumping Doritos into my mouth. I mean, I’m still gonna do it. Just...don’t judge me. 😂

For reference: His Monstrous Bride Parts I, II, III, and some other Cardan POV stuff.

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

The day after Jude took him on the floor, Cardan wakes before his wife and watches gentle waves of dust play in the golden sunlight streaming across her bare shoulders. Jude still sleeps, turned on her side, facing him. Her auburn hair spills over the silken pillowcase next to his. 

“I missed you,” she’d whispered in his arms the night before, bare and tangled in his limbs. “In the mortal world, when I thought you were my enemy, I still missed you.”

His heart soars at the memory. He brushes fingertips to her soft, kiss-swollen lips, and she sighs in her sleep and inches closer to him, never opening her eyes.

How glad he is she’s returned. He has never before woken to such peace.

He pulls her into his arms, fits her head beneath his chin.

For the next two days, this is how he wakes. In fact, his whole waking world is shifting now that his days are bookended with Jude in his arms. He spends his waking hours with Jude and their war council, hunched over maps and battle strategies – a thing he never imagined tolerating. Jude makes all things tolerable.

He tucks each day away in his memory, so that, regardless of how this ends, he will always have this to savor.

Because it does very much feel as if an end approaches.

Madoc’s forces have been spotted. A meeting has been arranged.

Evening falls when preparations for parlay have concluded, and Cardan waits in the royal chambers with Jude and her family, preparing to walk to the dais. Jude looks every inch a High Queen, wrapped in green and gold with a gilded crown at her brow. Her lips have been stained a formidable blood-red, and, as much as it makes Cardan want to kiss them, he wants the world to see her like this more. His queen. The fierce creature he’s always known her to be.

For a moment after her family leaves, it is just the two of them, and she looks…Jude looks like someone who could win a battle all on her own. She could go forth from these rooms and command the attention of every fae in these halls.

She looks like she doesn’t need him.

And that’s all right, he supposes. She wants him. She missed him. She may even like him. That’s enough.

Her brows are furrowed now as she looks up at him. She’s worried. She – along with everyone else, Cardan included – has feared Madoc’s manipulations and his desire to draw Cardan into combat.

“Madoc says you will duel for love,” she says, quietly.

“Whose?” Cardan asks, frowning, because Madoc must not know him at all if he’s kidnapped some fae maid Cardan flirted with once in an attempt to goad him.

The only person Madoc could use to goad Cardan stands before him now, shaking her head as if she is completely clueless. As if she hasn’t spent these last nights in his bed. As if she isn’t the girl he gazes at in golden sunlight.

Tell her.

What does she think of herself, really? It’s true, he does not have a history of chivalry, but he had thought he made himself clear on his feelings toward her. He did marry her, after all.

Tell her.

He curses this nosey busybody of a conscience he’s grown. Jude has only recently seemed to begin to care for him – this is all but certain to mortify her. But, he thinks, for the sake of their plotting and strategizing, she must know. If Madoc means to use her against him, she must be prepared to protect herself.

“It’s you I love.” He has to choke it out like he’s reading a report. He must not attach feelings to this – it is simply in her best interest. She has been clear that she could never reciprocate.

Jude looks so flabbergasted, so taken aback, he finds he must defend such a statement.

“I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours.”

Jude’s only growing more wide-eyed and uncomfortable, and the impending rejection looms like a tidal wave over him. He can’t bear it.

“You probably guessed as much,” he says, moving for the doors. He wants to get away from this as fast as he can. “But just in case you didn’t.”

And he throws open the doors, much preferring the company of the Living Council to whatever’s about to happen in the royal chambers. At least now she knows. At least now she can protect herself.

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

Tagging: @yellowavocadopit, @dagypsygirl, @ireallyshouldsleeprn, @booklover-sleeplover, @mwejh, @courtofjurdan, @faeriequeenofwest, @sugawsites, @loveyourselfsolid, @owl0y0s, @feelinglikecleopatra, @akaloto, @charrise, @persephxnecoven, @raging-bisexual-alert, @rteme, @nahthanks, @addies-invisible-life, @elorcanislife, @snusbandxknifewife, @poeticbrownmermaid, @duarteegreenbriar, @thefolkofthefic, @alittledribbledrabble, @carmensworld17, @annejulianneh111, @amandlas, @elriel4life, @idk-what-name-to-use, @thewickedkings, @juliazato, @woodsbeyond1, @booksmusicandgoodvibes, 

[peachbear88]

A Whole New World (Pt 3)

A/N: So I have another idea for a oneshot or maybe series. "Forbidden Love". I think the name might already have been used but THIS IS THE PERFECT NAME FOR THE NEXT STORY AHHHHHHH! Anyways, back to the actual story at hand.

-----------

You sit down cautiously in the leather seat in front of you, almost sighing. The chair is much more comfortable then you thought.

"So... what do you want from me?" You ask timidly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat as his gaze sears into you.

"Why do you think I want something from you?" He asks and you meet his eyes, noticing the amused glint in them.

"Because you didn't hand me over to the police and instead, brought me here." You gesture to the spacious, glamorous office. He chuckles, standing up to look out the massive floor to ceiling window.

"Touchè." You fidget nervously, waiting for him to continue. "I saw you paying a visit to the youngest Maximoff." Your breath hitches in your throat as he turns to look at you. "Very skilled, the whole, swinging from the tree branch." You flush and he smirks. "Young love. I presume you'd like her hand in marriage as well." Your face turns an even brighter shade of red and he chuckles. Not a genuine, hearty chuckle but a cold, dark laugh.

"She has to marry someone that benefits the company though." You pause, letting the smallest sliver of hope leak into your speech. "Right?"

Loki laughs cruelly, crushing the liquid hope you had.

"Correct. But. I can help you." You look up into his icy green eyes and he smirks. "I can make you rich enough to qualify for her hand in marriage. Powerful enough." You lean forward eagerly but he leans back, knowing fully well he had you wrapped around his little finger. "Nothing comes for free though."

You reach into your pocket, pulling out the brooch and examining it. You take a deep breath, steeling your resolve before turning back to him.

"What would I have to do?"

-----------

"All I need is for you to go into that cave and fetch me an object. A simple oil lamp to be specific." You arch an eyebrow.

"Easy peasey." He stops you, pulling you back from the mouth of the cavern.

"Not so fast. You cannot touch any of the treasures in there, no matter how tempted. And trust me, you will be tempted." You gulp, noting the ominous tone in his voice.

"Got it. How hard could it really be?" You mutter, slowly inching down the cavern. A pebble slips, sending you tumbling down the semi-smooth stone slide. You scream as you fall, hitting the bottom of the slide with a grunt. "Didn't see that coming." Dusting yourself off, you slink through the dark, ominous cave. The further you descend into the cave, the more tempting the mounds of gold and jewels become. The cavern expands, leading into a massive area, dozens of tall, sharp pillars looming above you. Dead in the center, perched upon the tallest pillar is the desired lamp. You smile, stepping towards the pillar only to be upended by a small gem. You go flying, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare yourself for the harsh impact but it never comes. Instead, you find yourself on a fluffy carpet. It ripples beneath you, and for a moment, you fear the whole cave is coming apart. Then the carpet pushes you off it and you shriek. The carpet, the carpet that just caught you is moving. You examine it curiously, pacing around it.

"A frickin' magic carpet." You exclaim as it watches you inspect it, impatiently gesturing towards the giant slab of stone crushing it. You scratch your chin before slipping your fingers between a small gap under the rock. "Alright, here we go." You grunt, heaving the rock. The carpet tugs and the moment the stone lifts a little, the carpet zips out, dipping and whirling around the cavern, sending gold cascading everywhere. Eventually, it calms down, circling around you and patting your shoulders enthusiastically. "Not a problem bud." You return your attention to the towering pillar in front of you. "Alright. Let's do this."

You pull yourself up, following the pre-set trail you had created for yourself as you grip another sharp handhold. A bit of blood trickles down from a thin cut on your palm and you grimace before continuing your steep climb. Your muscles are on fire, the thin cut on your hand tearing wider and wider every second. With one final pull, you reach the top of the pillar, the dusty lamp shining right back at you. Not wasting a second, you grab the lamp and slowly lower yourself down to where the carpet stands, watching you with anticipation.

"All right! Now to get out of here..." You dust of your thin, ragged pants, leaving a thick line of blood smeared on the fabric. After a few moments, you locate the tunnel you came from and make your way up the steep slope. Your footsteps echo off the large cave as you reach the large stone slide. A gem next to your foot catches your eye and you lean down, examining it. The carpet frantically waves at you, even slapping you but you push it away, picking up the gem. "No one's going to notice one small gem missing. I could go without stealing for a whole month without this gem." You shrug before slipping it into your pocket. The effect is instantaneous, a roaring voice echoing through the cave.

"You have touched the forbidden treasure. Now, you will never again see the light of day!" Molten lava spews forth from the cracks in the cavern, rapidly covering the stone. You jump up, leaping from stone to stone, clambering up the rocky slide. At the mouth of the cave, Loki stands, watching you frantically scale the rocky wall, unable to find the strength to pull yourself up the last bit of the wall.

"A little help would be nice!" You cry and Loki peers down at you, golden staff in hand.

"Give me the lamp first." He sneers and you resist.

"No. Your hand first!" He leans closer to you and his once handsome features contort into an angry scowl.

"Give me the lamp first." He repeats and you relent, reaching into your pocket and handing him the lamp. He examines it greedily while you cling onto the rock face.

"Now your hand!" He looks back down at you, all the kindness from before gone.

"How about my foot?" Your eyes widen as he raises his foot and steps on your hand, squishing it. You cry out in pain as he relentlessly twists his foot, agonizing pain shooting up your arm. Unable to hold on any longer, you fall, the sweltering heat radiating against your body before you hit a soft surface, soaring up into the air. Prying your eyes open, you look down to see carpet, speeding towards the entrance of the cave where Loki stands, still entranced by the lamp. The carpet speeds up and you reach out, snatching the lamp from Loki's hands. Loki roars in anger, pushing you backwards with the butt of his staff as the cave crumbles. Rocks tumble down, covering the entrance as you fly backwards towards a certain doom. Right at the last moment, carpet catches you and the two of you go tumbling back down into the darkness of the cave.

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

"Ugh..." You groan, your eyes fluttering open. You're greeted by a brightly colored carpet hovering above you. "Hi." You mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position. The lamp is still tightly clutched in your hand and you stare at it, wondering what that man could've possibly wanted from such a dusty relic. You sigh, rubbing the back of your neck before returning your attention to the carpet. "Well, you know any way out of here buddy?" The carpet makes exaggerated gestures with it's golden tassels at the lamp. You hold up the lamp, confused. "This old thing?" The carpet nods vigorously (at least you think it's nodding) and you shrug. "What's the worst that could happen." You take a deep breath, slowly rubbing at the lamp with your injured hand, blood smearing over the dusty brass surface. Slowly but surely, a thick blue fog spirals out of the lamp, revealing a massive blue figure. You stumble backwards, still clinging onto the lamp.

"Oh great one who summons me, terrible one who commands me, I stand by my oath, loyalty to wishes three." The figure roars. Your mouth opens but nothing comes out, just a pathetic little whimper.

"Eh..."

He clears his throat, peering down into the darkness.

"I said, 'Oh great...'" His eyes land on you. "Excuse, me, dude, where's your boss?" You stand there, gaping as he waves his massive blue hands in front of your face. "Help me out here, where's your boss? If I was just gonna talk to myself, I could've stayed in the lamp."

"Eh... Uh...." You gulp as he stares at you impatiently.

"Hellooooooooo!"

"I uh.... I'm talking to uh.... Smoking blue giant?"

"No! BRRRRRRRRR." He hums out, shrinking down and swirling around you. "I am not a giant, I am a genie. There is a difference." He retorts, waving his finger in front of you. "Giants are not real." He reclines back, leaving you frozen in shock. "Where's your boss?"

"Uh, my boss?"

He sighs.

"Look, kid, I've been doing this a long time, all right? There's always a guy, you know..." You watch his hands, noting how he uses them to gesture with every word he utters. "He's cheated somebody, or buried somebody." He explains, teleporting behind you and floating around. "I mean, you get my point. Where's that guy?" You nod in understanding.

"I know that guy. He's outside." The genie's face lights up.

"So, it's just you and me down here?" A telescope appears in his hand with a blue puff and he scans the cave through it, his brown eye bulging out from the glass. You nod, unable to form coherent words. "So you rubbed the lamp?"

"Uh-huh." He scratches his goatee.

"Huh. Do you mind if I just, you know, stretch it out over here?" He asks, already floating away from you. You look around the cave, searching for another being that the genie could possibly be asking.

"Uh, are you asking me?" He groans as he stretches out.

"Yeah, you're my master." You laugh dryly, swallowing.

"Yeah no, you look like you should be my master."

The genie shrugs, looking you up and down.

"Yeah, but that's not quite how it works." You stare at the lamp, mystified.

"How long have you been in here?"

"'Bout a thousand years." You stare at him skeptically.

"A thousand years?"

"A ThoUSanD YeARs." He mocks you, sitting down on a rock. "Is it just me or does everything surprise you?" You don't answer and he sighs, floating towards you. "So you really don't know who I am. Genie, wishes, lamp, none of that ringing a bell?" You don't respond and he looks taken aback. "Wow. Well, that's a first." He teleports a few feet away, snapping his fingers. "Monkey!" A small, frail looking monkey appears with cymbals and a band drum attached to it's back. It starts clapping the cymbals together rhythmically and blowing into a small kazoo. You stare at the monkey and the genie brushes you off. "Oh, don't worry 'bout him, he's fine." The genie starts clapping along before bursting into song.

"Well, Ali Baba, he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales."

"But master, you're in luck,"

"Because up your sleeves, you got a genie that never fails!"

He finishes with jazz hands, the monkey's kazoo dying off with a slight squeak. You look at the carpet apprehensively only to see it clapping it's stray threads off.

"Whoo!" The genie exclaims, zooming around. "I'm the best." You stare at him, unbelieving. He sighs.

"Not enough, huh?" You don't reply. "I'm kidding, watch this."

A beam of blue light shoots out of his finger tip, hitting the monkey, who goes flying. The monkey lands on a tall pile of rock, behind a drum set. A jazzy upbeat tune fills the dark cavern.

"Here I go!"

"Uh! Ooh! Whoo!"

"Back up!"

The carpet disappears, reappearing on another tall pile of rock, shaking a pair of maracas rhythmically.

"Uh-oh! Watch out!"

He scats and a trumpet appears in the monkey's mouth, blasting out a high note.

"You done wound me up!"

"'Bout to show you what I'm workin' with. Uh!"

"Well, Ali Baba he had them 40 thieves,"

"Scheherazade had a thousand tales!"

"But, master, you're in luck because up your sleeves,"

"You got a brand of magic never fails."

The genie appears behind you, the golden shackles on his forearms glowing with power.

"You got some power in your corner now,"

"Heavy ammunition in your camp!"

His arms turn into golden cannons that fire bright blue blasts to emphasize his point.

"You got some punch, pizzazz,"

"Yahoo, and how?"

"All you gotta do is rub that lamp,"

"And then I'll say,"

"Missus, man what's your name, whatever, what will your pleasure be?"

"Let me take your order I'll jot it down,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He picks you up and plops you into an elegant restaurant where a menu is thrown in front of you.

"Life is your restaurant and I'm your maître d'."

"Come whisper to me whatever it is you want,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me!"

"We pride ourselves on service!"

"You the boss, the king, the shah!"

"Say what you wish, it's yours, true dish!"

"How 'bout a lil more paprikash?"

You disappear behind mounds of the Sokovian delicacy, reappearing between racks of clothing.

"Have some of column A,"

"Try all of column B."

Blue strings attach themselves to your arms and you find yourself being whirled around, dancing, but from your point of view, you look like a flailing chicken.

"I'm in the mood to help you dude,"

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

He starts scatting as he pulls you around like a puppet.

"Can your friends do this?"

You point to a clone of the genie, who's standing on his head, his lower half spinning around like a disco ball.

"Can your friends do that?"

You point the other way to another clone of the genie who is whirling around a magic lasso.

"Can your friends pull this,"

"Outta they lil hat?"

He reaches into a top hat and slowly pulls out the magic carpet.

"Can your friends go,"

He starts beatboxing, bright flares shooting illuminating the cave.

"I'm the genie, of the lamp, I can sing rap dance if you give me a chance."

A couch appears behind you and you fall backwards, landing on the plush cushions.

"Don't sit there buggy eyed,"

"I'm here to answer all your mid-day prayers."

"You got me bona fide,"

"Certified,"

"You got a genie for your charged affairs."

He slaps a certificate into your hands and the couch zooms forward at light speed, throwing you off. You wave your arms desperately, attempting to balance yourself as you teeter precariously above a pit of molten magma. The genie pulls you back by the hook of your jacket.

"I got a powerful urge,"

"To help you out,"

"So whatcha wish,"

"I really wanna know."

"You got a list that's 3 miles long no doubt."

"All you gotta do is rub like so."

The lamp goes flying into your hands as the genie appears next to you.

"Missus?"

"Y/N." You reply.

"Yes!"

“One wish or two or three?"

"Well, I'm on the job, you big nabob,"

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never had a friend,"

"Never had a friend."

"You ain't never."

"Had a."

"Friend."

"Like."

"Me!"

He scats as fireworks go off, lighting the cave up in blue, red, green, gold and purple.

"You ain't never had a friend like me."

The scene fades and you stand there, still trying to comprehend the turn of events. The genie's large blue face appears in front of you.

"You can clap now." He smirks, imitating a mic drop. You raise your hands slowly to clap and he immediately stops you. "No, no no, please, please. You can thank me outside. In the sun. When you wish us out." You smile numbly before shaking your head.

"Wait so.... how does it work?" The genie's face drops into disbelief.

"You're.... You're kidding right?" He sputters, shrinking back down to a normal size. "The- The whole song was the- The instructions!" He grabs your hand, sighing. "Obviously you can't dance and listen at the same time. "So here's the basics." The lamp appears in his hand and he mimes rubbing it. "Step one, rub the lamp." A second head appears on his body. "Step 2, say what you want." A third head appears. "Step 3." The other two heads disappear as you continue walking hand in hand with the genie. "There is no step 3! See, it's that easy!" He waves his hand. "You get three wishes.They must begin with you rubbing the lamp and saying 'I wish' got it?" You nod slowly.

"I think so...." He smiles.

"Great! A few more rules. You can't wish for more wishes, 3 is enough. I can't make anybody love anybody." Pink hearts float around his head. "Or bring anybody back from the dead." Papyrus wraps around him, muffling his speech and giving it an eerie feeling. "Feel free to interrupt me anytime you don't understand." You give a sigh of relief, opening your mouth to ask a question but he immediately cuts you off. "I'm kidding, don't ever interrupt me, no matter what." You close your mouth. "Now, I usually don't have to go through all this because by the time the guy." He emphasizes 'the guy' with little quotation marks. "Gets to me, he already knows what he wants and it generally has to do with," He clears his throat expanding to a large size, a red glow hugging his blue skin. "Tons of money and power! Mwahahahaha!" He exclaims evilly, money raining down from the roof of the cave. He shrinks back down into his normal size. "Do me a favor, do not drink from that cup. I promise you, there is not enough money or power on Earth for you to be satisfied. Good? Well, what's your first wish?" You scratch your chin thoughtfully.

"Well, I have to think about it. I mean, if there are only 3," The genie scoffs in disbelief. "I mean, why are there only 3 anyways?" He cuts you off, waving his hands about.

"I don't know! Who cares?" You smirk, approaching him.

"You don't know? I thought you were all knowing."

"That's 'cause you don't listen. I never said I was all knowing, I said I was all powerful." He quips. "The most powerful being in the universe." He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Look, whatever I don't know, I know I can learn it. Outside in the sun. Why are you playing hard to wish?" He exclaims exasperatedly. "Give us some sun!" You relent, smiling and placing the lamp behind you.

"All right Genie. I wish for you to get us out of this cave."

"Boom! Booyah!" The genie zooms around excitedly. "She has made her first wish!" He reappears in a flight attendant uniform holding a safety brochure. "Thank you for choosing Genie Airlines. Please don't forget to tip your genie on the way out!" 3 more genies appear behind him in similar uniform, waving at you. "Hold yourself kid!" He whirls around you, bright blue fog enveloping you until you finally reappear outside on the outskirts of Sokovia.

"Whoa." You mutter, nauseated at the sudden movement. The carpet does a flip, soaring off into the air. "Why is the monkey still here?" You gesture to the little frail monkey next to you.

"Oh. Uh, consider it a gift." You shrug, picking the monkey up and depositing it on your shoulder. He snaps and the two of you are sitting under a makeshift tent, a chess board between the two of you. You gulp, holding your head. "Can you warn me before you do that?" He waves you off.

"You'll get used to it. So, have you decided what you're going to wish for?" He bites into an apple. You shrug.

"Nope. Haven't really thought about it." The genie laughs, depositing the apple on the chess board.

"Wow. You really are not that guy." You sit up in the woven tanning chair, watching the genie.

"So what would you wish for." The genie examines you thoughtfully before staring back at Sokovia.

"Easy. I would wish to be free." He raps his knuckles against the golden bands on his forearms. "To not have to say," Poof! He reappears in front of you in a waiter's uniform. "How may I help you?" Poof! He reappears in the chair beside you in his normal outfit. "Freedom. I wish to be human." You look at him curiously.

"Why don't you just set yourself free?" He laughs derisively, clapping.

"Only way I can be set free is if the owner of the lamp uses one of their wishes to set me free. The last time that happened was like, the fourth of Never-ary."

"I'll do it." You volunteer. "I've got 3 right?"

"Actually, 2. You used one to get out of the cave." The genie corrects and you smirk.

"DId I? Or did you? I thought I had to be rubbing the lamp."

"Okay little street-girl. Let's rewind the tape." He imitates a cassette tape rewinding. He examines the playback. "Okay! I see what you did there." You smile at him.

"At least now I can use my last wish to set you free." He leans forward in his woven tanning chair..

"See this is the thing. The more you have, the more you want." You look out at Sokovia.

"That's not me." The genie hums skeptically.

"We'll see about that."

"But... There is something." You sigh and the genie instantly notices the lovesick expression on your face.

"Oh! Seen that look before." With a blue puff, he appears in front of you, lying on his stomach, his chin resting on his hands. "Who's the guy?" You don't look at him.

"It's.... It's a girl." He smiles at you supportively.

"Well, I can't make anyone fall in love with anyone." You quickly shake your head.

"No, no. We had a connection." He quirks an eyebrow at you.

"Alright, alright."

"She's smart, kind, incredibly beautiful. But she has to marry- Hold on, can you make me rich?" The genie teleports back to his chair.

"Kid, there is a lot of gray area in 'Make me rich'." He snaps his fingers and a rich business man in a stylish black suit appears a few feet away. "I could just make you rich." You immediately backpedal, shaking your head.

"No, no, no." The genie nods.

"Right 'cause then you'd be stuck with this guy. Be specific with your words. The key is in the detail." He advises and you nod. "Which I don't really understand because if she already likes you, why change?"

You shrug.

"I told you, she has to marry someone that benefits her family's business." The genie stands up, fiddling with his fingers.

"Alright, I can do that. An official wish this time, for those of us that are counting." You clear your throat nervously.

"Genie, I wish..." He snaps his fingers, pointing at the lamp. "Oh right! Sorry." You pick up the lamp, rubbing it. "All right. Genie..." He raises his hands in mock surrender.

"Don't hurt em Genie."

"I wish... to become rich." You squeeze your eyes shut, preparing for the worst. The genie smiles, waving his hands.

"Back up kid, I need some room to work. I'm gonna fabulize you."

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

Taglist: @username23345 @musicinourlips @gingerbreadcookieforlife @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @trikruismybitch @ima-gi--na-tion @nicole-rayleigh-hot

[lookatyoustrawberrynerd]

Forgiven - Gajeel X Levy

WARNINGS: Light swearing

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

GENRE: fluff, slight angst

FANDOM: Fairy Tail

PAIRING: Gajeel x Levy

The guild hall was loud and rowdy as ever as Gajeel sat alone at the bar, drinking whatever the hell Mira had put in his mug. It didn't matter to him as long as it got him drunk.

"Getting a head start today are we?" Gajeel turned around and saw the small master of Fairy Tail climbing into the stool next to him.

Gajeel chuckled as he took another swig, "It's gonna take a lot more than this to get me drunk, old man."

"Oh I don't doubt it," Makarov replied. He signaled for Mira to pour him a drink, then promptly chugged it down as if it were nothing but water. "Your tolerance must be impeccable if this is what you're putting away this early in the morning."

Gajeel smirked, "years of practice."

The two men chuckled as they drank together, falling into a comfortable silence as the guild hall roared behind them.

A small pair of arms wrapped themselves around Gajeels shoulders as a kiss was planted on his cheek. Gajeel turned his head to face his bright eyed girlfriend Levy.

Gajeel couldn't help the smile that came to his face every time he saw her. "Hey short stack," He said as he gave her a quick peck on the lips.

Levy ignored the nickname, "Me and the guys are heading out on a job for a few days."

Gajeel grunted, "is anyone else going?"

Levy shook her head, "No, but the job isn't that dangerous. Just a simple escort mission for a Lord and his daughter."

"Still, I'd feel better if you took Lily with you," Levy puffed our her cheeks.

"I can h-"

"Trust me Lev, I know you're capable of kicking so serious ass, it's the other two I don't trust." Gajeel looked behind Levy at Jet and Droy stuffing their faces.

Levy sighed, "fine, you big baby."

"That's my girl." Gajeel leaned in to whisper in Levy's ear, "I'll make it up to you when you get back."

He couldn't help but laugh as his girlfriend turned bright red in front of him. "I-I gotta go now!" Levy gave Gajeel a chaste kiss on the lips. He watched her as she met the black exceed by the door.

"Hey," Gajeel called out to Jet and Droy before they could join them. They walked over to Gajeel who then grabbed them both by the wrist and pulled them in close. "If she comes back with a single scratch," he hissed, "I will put you two in a fucking coffin."

Jet and Droy both shivered as they nodded frantically. Gajeel let go of them and they practically ran out of the guild hall. Sighing, Gajeel turned back around to take a drink, already missing his girlfriend.

"I must say Gajeel," The master started, "when I first took you in, I never would have imagined you would have fallen for my little Levy."

A faint blush dusted over his cheeks, "Well," He didn't like thinking about his time before Fairy Tail, the person he was, but he couldn't help it as the memories came back, "I was a real piece of shit back then."

He didn't realize how hard he was gripping the handle of his mug until he let go of it, revealing dents in the shape of his fingers.

"Shit," he muttered as Mira came up to grab the mug from him, "I'll buy you a new one."

Mira just laughed it off, "No need Gajeel. If we had to replace every dented mug in this place, we'd go bankrupt!"

"Mira, could you give us a minute?" Makarov asked. Nodding, Mira walked into the back room, leaving the two men alone at the bar.

"I was wondering when you were gonna cut to the chase," Gajeel said.

"Yes, but I believe it is you with something to say, my boy." The two men sat there in silence for a few seconds before the master asked, "Can I see it?"

The box in Gajeels pocket suddenly felt like a weight dragging him down. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the box and slid it to the old man next to him, careful to not let anyone see it.

Makarov pulled back the lid to reveal a small iron ring. Intricate designs of swirls carved to look like vines and flowers decorated its sides, meeting in the middle to hold a heart shaped diamond.

"How did you know?" Gajeel asked.

"I know a lot of things, Gajeel. I just happened to catch you staring at it when you think no one is watching." Makarov said as he twisted the box around to look at the ring from all angles.

Gajeel nearly choked on his drink, "fuck," he muttered. The master chuckled and clapped Gajeel on the back.

"It's a beautiful ring Gajeel," he said, sliding the ring back to him. "You must love her a great deal."

Gajeel smiled softly, "Yeah," he looked at the ring and closed the lid with a sigh. "I don't deserve her."

"How so?"

"Are you serious?" Gajeel asked, but Makarov stayed silent. Softly, Gajeel said, "I hurt her."

Makaraov hummed in acknowledgement, "So that's it huh?" Memories flooded into Gajeels mind. Him attacking her that night, the way she screamed, her nearly lifeless body hanging from that god damned tree. Gajeel swallowed down the bile rising in his throat.

"I hurt her, Master. I hurt her and her friends and laughed about it, bragged about it. But the moment I joined the guild, she treated me like nothing had ever happened. I wasn't 'Black Steel Gajeel', I was just Gajeel Redfox. If I'm being honest, it kinda pissed me off."

The master hummed, "Really?"

"Yeah," he replied, "it pissed me off because I had no idea why she would even bother being nice to me. I wouldn't have been. But of course, she's just that wildly forgiving of other people. I didn't deserve her forgiveness, and that's why it pissed me off."

"You have long since been forgiven for your sins of the past, Gajeel" The master said. Gajeel whipped his head to face him.

"What?"

"Do you know why I chose to recruit you instead of the other members of Phantom Lord?" Makarov asked and Gajeel shook his head. There was no hint of sarcasm or condescension in his voice, just plain sincerity. "I picked you because not just because I wanted to help you find the right path, but because I knew that it was possible. I saw a light in you that had been clouded by Jose and his teachings. The things you did were deplorable, and you know that more than anyone, but answer me this. Would you have done the things you did that night if Jose hadn't ordered you to?"

No. He wouldn't have. He didn't even go as far as he was supposed to that night. Jose had ordered him to kill Levy, Jet, and Droy, but he refused.

Makarov continued on, "Ever since I took you in, you have done nothing but prove me right. You have shown that you are willing to fight for your family and that you're proud to be a fairy, and we're proud to have you."

Gajeel looked around the guild hall as he processed the masters words. He looked at the people he had met over the past several years, and he realized he was proud. He had made legitimate friends in a guild he once tried to destroy and fell in love with a girl he had almost killed.

All those nice thoughts however couldn't stop the doubt from creeping into his mind. "Even still, I can't provide for her. It took me months to work enough jobs to even buy the materials for that ring, and it's not like those jobs were easy."

"You and I both know she doesn't care about that."

"But I do master!" Gajeel slammed his fist on the bar a little louder than he wanted to. Some people looked their way for a moment but quickly resumed doing whatever it was they were doing. "She deserves the world, but I simply can't give it to her."

Makarov took another swig of his drink, "You're right. She does deserve the world. But she wants you," He stood up on the bar stool and made eye contact with the man across from him. "We all have our demons, Gajeel. We all have scars that will never fade, those voices in our heads that tell us to just give up and that we'll never be good enough. But you are lucky enough to have a family that will support you in every choice you make, and a woman who loves you with her entire heart.

"You will have to live with the things you have done for the rest of your life. You cannot go back and undo it no matter how much you wish you could. What you can do is live every day showing how much you've grown. You have atoned for your sins. Levy, Jet, and Droy have forgiven you. I have forgiven you. Now you must work to forgive yourself. And if you never do, that's okay. Just don't let it stop you from living your new life.

"Never forget Gajeel that you deserve happiness just as much as everyone else under this roof. If that means a future with Levy, then I will spend every remaining second I have left ensuring that future comes to pass, and every second after that protecting it. On my honor as the master of the Fairy Tail guild."

Gajeel didn't know at what point he had started crying. No one had ever told him that he deserved to be happy, but here was someone saying it as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.

"Master I-"

"Do you love her, Gajeel?" Makarov asked.

In that moment, Gajeel saw Levys face. Her bright smile, her eyes that always sparkled, her blue hair that reminded him of the sky, the way she puffed her cheeks whenever he teased her.

He remembered all their missions together, their time in the military, all the times they had nearly died; Tenrou Island, Tartaros, Alvarez, he had never felt fear the way he did when he was confessing to Levy as he was slowly dying, and the pure elation he felt when he finally saw her again.

He thought about what he wanted in the future, and in his mind he saw Levy in a white dress walking down the aisle. He saw with a hand on her rounded stomach. He saw her reading to their children and him singing to them. He saw them growing old and gray together. His heart swelled with emotions he had never felt before as he looked into the future.

Every day he wakes up to Levy lying next to him, and he always thinks that he'll never be able to fall for her more than he already has, and every day he is proven wrong.

Gajeel smiled as he wiped away a tear from his face, "more than anything."

Makarov returned his smile, "Then marry her Gajeel. You have my blessing. Make a family with her. Make a life that both of you can be proud of living. Make her as happy as she makes you." Makarov held out his hand and Gajeel took it in his.

"I promise I will," Another tear fell down his face, "Thank you master."

"You're welcome, my son."

[thelittleboyfromloveactually]

Two Shorten the Road

Part 2

Joel dawson x reader

Warnings: none I think

Word count: 1951

Promt: you and joel are of to a great start on your journey, that is until your get attacked by one of the mutated monsters

I’ve always hated goodbyes, especially when they might be forever. Joel and I had packed quickly and said our goodbyes.

“So joel, you gotta use your advantages, so like your small and fast, so ya know, don’t fight! Just run, run and hide” Tim told Joel

“Take care of him Y/N”

“Stay alive you two!”

“For real! Do not die!”

I met joel right under the bunker’s exit hatch. He looked at me, fear and excitement in his eyes

“You ready?” He asked as he adjusted his backpack

“As ready as I’ll ever be” I said looking up at the ladder

“You know you don’t have to-“ he stared before i cut him off, what was ur gonna take for him to understand that I was coming and that was that.

“I want to, really, I do” I said smiling at him

“Alright then” he said. He looked up and began climbing up the ladder, I followed after him.

We pushed the hatch open, and Joel helped me out. The sun was hot against my skin. I looked at joel. He was looking is all directions, amazed by the sight of the trees and grass. I smiled at him, remembering how long it had been since he’d been outside. We made eye contact, he took a deap breath. Joel jumped down and I followed.

“Ok so, we need to go west” he said looking at his map

“Right…West” I said looking around, I had no idea which way was west, i normally just followed everyone when i went out hunting.

“This is not….very helpful” he said looking at the map

Joel began walking one way, still looking down at his map. He turned noticing I wasn’t following him. Then he began walking the other way

“We’re gonna die” I said

“Hey just because I’m not entirely sure which way is west does not mean we are screwed” he said defensively

“Actually Kato that’s exactly what it means” I said, grabbing the map from his hands

He looked around, thinking for a second as I studied his map. Suddenly he began walking again, i quickly ran up behind him

“Let’s go this way, ya west is this way” he said, nodding confidently “split the difference, done! First decision made”

And we were off

It’s so weird being outside with Joel. I’m hardly used to being outside in general, and joel. Man I cannot even believe why joel is thinking right now, I mean he hasn’t been outside in 7 years. We have been walking for about one hour. We were walking through what seemed like a deserted neighborhood. There were a lot of cars and busses. Covered in vines, rusting away. Preoccupied with what was around me and not what was below me, I tripped, falling on my face.

“Oh shit! Y/N are you ok?” Joel ran over helping you up

“Yup, ya I’m good” I said dusting myself off. I looked up at joel, his eyes had worry behind them. I smiled telling him I was ok. His hands slowly let go of me. I looked down at what I had tripped over. A hot pink frisbee, how convenient.

“Ya I know, I know, your like an strong bad ass” he said jokingly

You laughed and pushed his arm as you began to start walking again

“Y-ya know I never thanked you and stuff, for ya know? Coming with me, I’m actually really glad you came, I don’t think I could do this without my best friend” he said, looking at his feet

“You don’t need to thank me joel, I don’t think I would have been able to stay one day in that colony without you” I smiled

“Also I really do need to thank you because I’m pretty sure I would have been killed already, to death” he said nodding his head

“Killed to death? Really? Wow sounds gruesome” u said laughing

“Wow” he said and we broke out laughing.

Suddenly a sort of rumbling sound came from somewhere, I couldn’t tell which direction. I looked at joel, panic now rest in his eyes.

“Run and hide” he said repeating what he had been told before leaving the bunker “hide….hide in the house! Y/N this way!” He said running toward the house, i threw my bow over my back, adjusting it and then running after him.

The house was quite, the wood creaked under my feet. I took off my bow and grabbed the arrow. Now I was ready to fight whatever bastard was gonna attack us. The sound got louder causing both me and Joel to run outside through the back door. We stumbled out of the house. I looked over at him and he shrugged. Suddenly another sound came from behind us. Bubbles. Me and Joel slowly turned around to see a little pond that had bubbles emerging on its surface. I grabbed an arrow, threading it through my bow as I began walking toward the pond.

“No Y/N!” joel demanded in a whisper

I stumbled back as a creature emerged, it was huge. I slowly backed away. Shit. I could hear Joel trying to tell me to run. He began counting

“Run on three Y/N! One, two, three!” we both broke off in a run toward the gate. I Pulled back my arrow and prepared to shoot but I was too late. Before I knew it I was being thrown into the fence and then dragged toward the toad-like creature. I grabbed desperately onto a log but it just came along with me.

“JOEL! shit! Help me! Grab my bow!” I yelled trying everything I could to slow this thing down. I could feel it’s tongue in my shoe. Joel was frozen in place. Shit. Then barks, something I hadn't heard for 7 years. A small brown dog came running toward me. It bit and chewed at the creature's yellow tongue. It quickly released me and I staggered up. I ran toward joel.

“Come on! We need to go!” I said , guiding him. I stopped to grab my bow before running out of the gate. The dog was behind us. But so was the Toad. The brown dog ran toward a deserted bus that had been decorated, painted. The doors opened and he ran inside, Joel and I followed.

The bus looked like it had been someone’s home at one point. Many different things hung from the room and pages of magazines and drawings covered the windows. I looked around as Joel caught his breath and calmed himself down. I walked over to a table and sat down, looking at what seemed like craft supplies.

“Nice place” Joel said still out of breath “mine if I sit?” Now this man was talking to a dog, figures. The dog looked up as if to say “yes”. Joel sat on the bed and I moved next to him.

“Are you ok?” He asked sweetly

“Ya, I’m good” I said smiling

Joel nodded, but he didn’t seem convinced. “Are you all alone?” I asked the dog, he was laying on a bed made out of a quilt and a pillow that said “boy” on it. The dog shifted its head away from us in response. I really love dogs, and this was breaking my heart. I sat down next to the animal and began petting it. I could feel Joel’s eyes on me. Eager to break the silence I decided to test my theory for the dog's name.

“Boy” I said and the dog sat up, he was suddenly all ears. “Is that your name? Boy?” I asked, smiling and giving him more pets. Joel smiled.

“Your names boy” joel said “I’m Joel, and that pretty lady is Y/N” he said gesturing to me “she’s my best friend, thank you for saving her” he whispered

I smiled, how could anyone not love this boy? This Aimee chick is quite lucky. I am worried though. What if she moved on? Joel would be broken.

“Nice to meet you” I said kissing the dog on the head

Joel smiled and then continued to look around. His eyes fell on a red dress.

“Is this a dress?” He asked picking it up

“No, it’s a hat” I said sarcastically, Joel looked at me, confused. “I’m kidding” I said and I could see the realization in his eyes. Suddenly Boy moved and grabbed the dress out of Joel’s hands and brought it back to his bed.

“Ok, I won’t touch it again” Joel said, throwing his hand up in defense. I looked carefully at the dog. He looked sad

“Was that your owner’s?” I asked, the dog stayed still. I laid down to get closer to him “it’s ok, you don’t have to talk about it” I looked at Joel and shrugged. Then I realized “wait did you think I was her?” I asked the dog, still he lay avoiding eye contact. I sighed, this poor dog.

“Hey um, I’m gonna lay down too” Joel chimed in “is that o…” he stopped to take off his backpack which seemed to startle the poor thing. “No it’s ok! It’s just my backpack” Joel reassures the dog. He plopped it down on the floor and moved his feet up on the bed. I laid down next to the dog bed, laying my bow and arrows next to me.

“Wait hey” Joel said sitting up a little “you don’t have to nap on the floor” he told me

“It’s fine, I like to be close to Boy” I responded smiling

“Are you sure? I mean I feel like I should really let you sleep on the bed since you almost died and I couldn’t save you” he said sitting up fully

“Joel, it’s fine! I'm serious, and please do not beat yourself up about that. It’s not your fault!” I told him, trying to ease his worry.

He nodded “kkkkkkkkkkk” he said “just take this though” he took off his red jacket and handed it to me

I gave him a look that said “no really I’m fine” then he returned the look with an “I insist” look. I gave in and used the jacket as a blanket. I closed my eyes, almost drifting off to sleep…..but then Joel was up and at em. He put his backpack on and began to walk out of the bus. I scrambled up and followed him. Guess we are leaving…. Boy followed us out and for some reason Joel seemed surprised.

“Oh hey are you coming with us?” Joel asked and Boy ran back inside “ok then” then suddenly Boy was back out with the red dress

“Oh yes of course, Joel,” I looked at Joel. “We cannot forget the dress!” I told him as if it was obvious

“Oh right ya, here Boy let me put it in my backpack” he tried to pull it away from Boy but he wouldn’t drop it

“Hey it’s ok, he’s gonna keep it so safe in the safe pack” I said kneeling down to sooth the dog. He let go and Joel put the red dress in his backpack. I adjusted my bow and we began walking. Me on the right, Joel on the left and Boy in the middle. My weird brain couldn’t help but think about if we could all be a family. If everything was normal. We would get married and adopt Boy. That is if I ever get the courage to tell Joel how I feel and if he feels the same. Welp! Until then I am stuck in my imagination as we venture closer toward our destination.

[collecting-stories]

Cowboy Blues - pt. 01 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: You swipe right on Tinder with some interesting results. 

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

You weren’t traditional by any sense of the word. You’d given up all those crazy ideals that had been ingrained in your personality when you realized that you weren’t going to find a high school sweetheart to settled down with. Or a college one for that matter. You settled for nice dates with average guys and tried to remind yourself daily that you needed no one to complete your life. It was fine on its own.  

“I think the literal class of guy has gone down,” your best friend Nina mentioned as she scrolled through your phone. You loved Nina but she was tone-deaf to most of your single life complaints. She was already married, to the same guy she had been dating since middle school. After HSM came out she had been madly in love with Zac Efron and had managed to find the one guy in your school that looked almost just like him and they’d stayed together.  

“You’re on tinder right now, just to put that commentary into perspective for you.” You pointed out, annoyed mostly. Nina had invited herself to come have lunch with you while you worked on finalizing your classroom for the coming school year. While you tried to get actual work done, Nina just scrolled through the guys on your tinder and bitched about their profiles, as if she expected to find some great life partner for you.  

It was probably cynical of you to say but, if you never dated again, never settled down with anyone, it probably wouldn’t matter. Wedding fever sprung up whenever someone else was tying the knot or having a kid but when that passed you weren’t particularly eager to look for someone. People had been, for the majority, disappointing since you had turned 18 and, for the past eight years you hadn’t been proven right.  

Someone to cohabitate with might be nice. You certainly thought about it on nights when you were feeling particularly isolated from the rest of the world, but all that disappeared when you considered how used to being alone you actually were and what cohabitating would actually mean. Someone who would leave dirty dishes in the sink, leave water on the bathroom floor and track it through the house, who would chew too loud or hate the food you liked or snore too obscenely or drink too much. There were a million flaws with your imaginary future suitor and you listed them all anytime you got the bug to start dating again. But twenty-six was old, according to Nina, and you needed to get married.  

“What about him, he’s cute?” She held the phone out to you, the guy in the picture was smiling, sitting in front of a table with food. You looked up briefly from the lesson plan you were writing out, nearly losing your mouthful of coffee.  

You swallowed and took the phone, staring at the picture, maybe a little too long.  

“He’s cute babe, but he’s not like People Magazine’s hottest man alive.” Nina said in response to your out burst.  

“No, no, I know him.” You explained, eyes still on the picture. God, you couldn’t help thinking that he looked good. Did you look that good? He was the spitting image of what he’d been in the stairwell at Duke. Attractive, self-assured, a little cocky. “We went to the same college. I hooked up with him one time at a party before spring break…I uh, he told me to call him and I lost his number.”  

“On purpose?” She asked, plucking the phone out of your hands. She lingered on his picture, waiting for your either glowing recommendation or scathing review before she swiped. He was cute, she’d give you that. He was tan, tall, even in the picture it was obvious, and just nice to look at.  

“No,” You admitted. “I was gonna call him and then I got back together with Ian.” Your ex-boyfriend be damned, you left out the part where you thought about your random hook way more often than a sane person should. After spring break it hadn’t been hard to dodge him, Duke had a massive campus and you didn’t have any of the same classes but every time you and Ian had it out you couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve been like if you’d called him back. Even after you graduated and moved back home to Boston, you still couldn’t quite shake the memory of him.  

“Well Ian’s getting married and you’re not...so,” she swiped and then closed the app, sliding off your desk to take a slow appraisal of your classroom while she dug the knife in deeper, “are you going to Ian’s wedding?”  

Nina kept asking, as if you had much say in the matter, and you kept answering, deflating your ego every time you had to say yes. “I have to…it’s my grade partner. She even made me a bridesmaid.” Admittedly, you and Anya had been much closer before your boyfriend of three years dumped you and immediately started dating her. Now it felt hard to be around her for too long, like going home for the holidays and trying to keep quiet when your drunk uncle brought up the political climate in the country. Anya told you she had held off the wedding because she wanted to ‘wait until the dust settled’. As if it hurt less now. For different reasons, sure, but not less.  

In a month’s time you’d be sitting through a bridal shower that her sister kept texting you to help coordinate and plan. She’d tried to be nice, giving you a plus one to the wedding because you didn’t know any of her friends or family. The only other person you knew was Ian, ex-boyfriend and groom, not exactly who you wanted to be hanging out with. Of course, you knew his family and that just made the whole ordeal so much more awkward.

The plus-one was an empty gesture though. Just a reminder that there was no one for you to invite. But you kept hoping, maybe you’d meet someone. Maybe you could transport yourself into a Hallmark movie and rent a date or something. Fall madly in love in a week and move to their small town and never look back. Then, at least, you could miss the wedding altogether.  

“She’s a fucking back stabbing bitch.” Nina commented, as if this was some new piece of information that she was finding out about now.

“Anya is super sweet.” You defended, only because it was true. Anya might’ve been marrying your douche of an ex-boyfriend but she was categorically the nicest person that you had ever met. “It wasn’t like he cheated on me, we broke up.” You didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. Not two weeks before the beginning of school. Two weeks before you had to look at her face every day until the honeymoon.  

“They got together pretty quick.” Nina pointed out, not that she ever needed to. “Well, whatever, so what was this guy like, what was his name?”  

“Did you swipe right on him and not even look at his name?” You asked, reaching for your phone to check.  

“Yeah, so? She asked, “You said you knew him.”  

“I said I slept with him.” You corrected.  

“Same thing.” She shrugged, “name?”

“Rafe. Cameron.”  

She ‘ohhhh-ed’ appreciatively, “What was he like?” She asked. “He sounds rich.”  

“Hot,” you shrugged, “I don’t know he was probably a total fuck boy. He asked me to call him the next morning after breakfast and I said sure and then when I got back to my dorm Ian was there.” You provided the short story of events, omitting any major details about that night. You told Nina everything but you had never told her about Rafe, always a little wistful about the encounter. As if it was some personal memory that would lose its importance should anyone else know about it.  

“He made you breakfast?”  

“Yeah, so?”  

“That’s like jackpot. God you could be like, married right now, popping babies out for some Swedish Au pair to run around after.” Nina replied raising her eyebrows suggestively.  

“I’m glad you’ve created this weird ‘rich kid’ narrative but I have no idea. It’s not like I was checking the guy’s financials while I was sucking his dick.” You lowered your voice at the end of the sentence, just in case the pushing 80 secretary walked past and heard you.  

“Please, have you seen him? That is a baby-faced, rich boy living on his daddy’s money. And you could be too.”  

“Okay, look, I was 20, I wasn’t trying to settle down and get married. At least not to some random guy I only hooked up with because my boyfriend was a douche.” You replied. Not to mention that breakfast had essentially consisted of one bite of toast before he was eating you out on the counter of his off-campus apartment. Not exactly the romantic beginning to a relationship. “Wait, did you swipe right?” You asked, almost immediately horrified at the thought.  

“Maybe.”  

“No,” you groaned, “fuck, he’s gonna think I’m so weird!”

“He will not. Besides, if he’s as much of a fuck boy as you say then guarantee he doesn’t even remember you.” She replied. “Besides, if he answers, it’ll be kinda nice ya know? Go out, have a nice dinner, get fucked, all your problems melt away.”  

“He better not remember me.” You grumbled. You were not prepared for the absolute humiliation that would come from him seeing you on Tinder and remembering you.  

“Did you really sleep with so few guys in college that you remember him?”  

“You’ve slept with one person in the last decade…” you pointed out.  

“And?” She slipped her sweatshirt back on and grabbed her bag, “whatever, I’m heading out. I have work in 30.”  

With Nina gone, you slumped back in your chair and grabbed your phone. You had a tendency to never get rid of anything; it was the great downfall of your life. Someday you would accumulate so much stuff you would become a hoarder and then no one would love you but the cats that used your belongings as a litter box. It was a terrible habit but it lent to usefulness sometimes, especially in moments like this, as you scrolled through your phone, finding Rafe’s contact. You had told Nina that you’d lost Rafe’s number but in actuality you had kept it stored in your phone even though you’d never used it.  

Now, this wedding fever was doing nothing but confirm your fear that you were one step closer to an unfulfilling life alone. Even Lorelai Gilmore didn’t stay single forever.  

You stared at his name in your contact list, a little fire emoji next to it and you could remember laughing at him when he typed it in. It was more a playful jab at the way your Boston accent had pronounced the word fire than anything to do with him though you thought it was an accurate description.  

You wondered if he had the same number. If you’d called him that night, would it have been another failed relationship to catalog away for when you were feeling especially shitty. Or would he have left you for the bubbly grade partner that you wanted to hate so much but couldn’t. Nina had swiped right on him but you didn’t even know where he lived these days. You were living in Boston again. You’d moved home for your masters and stayed when the teaching internship turned into an actual job.

North Carolina had been fun for school, being 12 hours away from home had given you the most incredible sense of freedom but nowhere was New England and you’d been itching to go home again just as soon as you’d arrived down there. Though coming back to Boston, you had found it different than you’d left it. Even with Nina here, she was married, she had her own life away from you. As much as you tried to settle in and pretend that everything was fine, you couldn’t help but admit that Nina was right, you did need someone.

Single life felt a lot more routine than you imagined it would. A call from your mother, complaining that your sister was acting out and being generally awful, a call from your sister, accusing your mother of being overbearing, and hours of alone time filled mostly by reading, walking your dog, and binging TV shows.  “At least you got a dog and not a cat.” Nina had said when you brought Fivel home. He was pre-named and you were always partial to An American Tail.  

“Only so I would exercise.” You had replied, knowing you had to walk the dog, a black lab mix that was a puppy when you got him. “You hear that Five, I’m using you for my own gain.”  He had gotten big since then, fully grown now with a personality that included forgetting his size and spreading out on top of you when you laid on the couch.  

Your apartment was small, an old converted brownstone with three apartments, yours on the top floor above a middle-aged couple with a very spoiled seven-year-old. They were nice when they weren’t blaring Disney movies and you resented that even in your house you couldn’t escape children but you couldn’t be too upset. The place was nicer than you could’ve hoped, truthfully. Especially living alone.  

Even with a nice place to live though, it was always the same. Walking Fivel, making whatever dinner that came in the Sunbasket boxes at the beginning of the week, and watching Top Chef.  

You closed out of your contacts, going back to Tinder as if Rafe would’ve already messaged you. All Nina had written was ‘hey’, as if that was supposed to entice someone into replying. You doubted the stupid picture of you from last year at the beach really did anything special. You weren’t surprised to find that there was no reply yet. You read his profile over again, unsure what else to say. The night the two of you hooked up you had both been at a party though these days your partying had been replaced with drinking alone.  

Whoever said don’t waste your twenties would’ve recoiled in horror at the way you were living.  

-  

“Leaving so soon?”  

You turned away from the double doors leading out onto campus, the click of the bar as it released echoing in your ear for a second, drowned out mostly by the music that was coming from the various dorms that had their doors open. It was a floor party; one you’d come to with some friends in high hopes of forgetting your current ex-boyfriend Ian once and for all. Three months of condescending comments and gaslighting finally pushing you over the edge.  

“I was just...getting some fresh air.” You replied, shrugging. Trying to look calm, unaffected by this stranger’s sudden entrance into your life. He was cute, far more so than Ian. Taller too. You thought you recognized him from the lacrosse team your roommate was so obsessed with. “Lacrosse players are never unattractive.” She had argued once when she dragged you to a game.  

He definitely fit the bill for her ideal of the lacrosse playing frat boy. Hot, tall, tan, his cap was on backwards and he looked so relaxed but also so sure of himself. Like whatever was going to happen in this hallway was going to go exactly how he wanted.  

“Want some company?” He asked, taking a sip from the cup in his hand but not taking his eyes off you.  

You felt like your heart was hammering in your chest, head swimming and you’d not even had anything to drink that night. “I uh…” worse case scenarios increased by tenfold in your head given the context of the situation. You were alone in a hallway, potentially about to go outside, while everyone else was partying, where they couldn’t hear you, with some guy you didn’t know at all. A guy who gave off some pretty strong ‘get-whatever-I-want’ vibes and he’d said no more than two sentences to you. “I uh, kinda wanted to be alone.”  

“Cool, cool.” He shrugged, “no problem.”  

For whatever reason that possessed you to think it was a genuinely okay idea, so you walked out, the door clicking open as you stepped onto the pavement. You kicked the stopper so it wouldn’t shut all the way because you’d rather be able to get back in than somehow have both of you trapped out here if he did decide to follow you. No alcohol, your brain was just malfunctioning or maybe your roommate was right and your usual suspicion of everyone had turned a nice moment into an awful one.  

It was significantly colder outside than it had been in the dorms, even in the hallway, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You wanted to scream at Ian for not even letting you have a good time when you were out with friends because you kept thinking of him. He was off somewhere, already on spring break, no doubt hooking up with girls you’d never know about because you had told him it was over. And it was, you were just so completely unsure-  

You’re silent berating ended mid-sentence when you turned around to see your lacrosse playing stranger sitting on the steps just inside the door. He smiled at you and waved and you almost laughed at the oddity of the moment as you came back inside.  

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding the door open and letting some of the cold air deep in.  

“You said you wanted to be alone. Figured I’d wait.”  

“For?”  

He shrugged, standing up and leaning against the bottom of the railing, “you, to not want to be alone.”  

“Well,” you were momentarily caught off guard, a nervous laugh escaping. Truthfully, you had never had someone flirt with you like this before, so directly obvious about liking you. Not necessarily one with quick-witted comebacks, you were still fairly good at deflecting when you needed too but somehow, he had rendered you speechless.  

He nodded his head toward the steps, “we can just sit? Door’s right there,” he offered, referring to the dorm room less than six feet away. The door was open and you could hear a mix of chatter and music.  

“Okay.” You agreed, letting the door close on the stopper, the slightest wave of cool air seeping in while you walked over and took a seat beside him. You introduced yourself, unsure what else to do, and probably sounded like every middle-aged family member he had when you asked him what his major was.  

“Rafe Cameron,” he replied, “economics.”  

“Oh god,” you said before you could stop yourself. He was the full package clearly, though of what you weren’t sure. He sounded rich, by the name alone, econ major, lacrosse player, potentially, and absolutely fuckable. There was no other coherent way to describe it. “I took an econ course as an elective freshman year, it really fucked me up.”  

“Not a math person?” He asked, another sip of his drink and you really wished you had one. Anything to occupy a little corner of your brain so everything wasn’t so solely focused on him.  

“No, no, not at all.” You shook your head. “So…do you live in this dorm?”  

“Nah, my roommate’s dating some girl in one of these,” he replied, the same head nodded toward the rooms as before, “I’m just here for the booze, and the company.”  

That wasn’t even that smooth of a line and you were melting at it. You weren’t sure if you were just dying for some positive attention or going through the motions of a breakup but either way you were seriously considering your roommate’s earlier encouragement of ‘letting yourself go’. Have fun, she had said, be bold.  

“You play lacrosse, right?” You asked, because you were 95% sure you’d seen him and it was eating at you a little bit.  You felt like you were grasping at straws trying to think of what to say. You were fairly positive that he was only talking to you because he wanted to have sex with you but honestly, you really wanted to have sex with him too.  

“I do,” he grinned and you knew you’d basically given him the upper hand. “You’ve been to a game?”  

“I’ve been to all of them.” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, my roommate’s a big fan of lacrosse or lacrosse players, not sure, so we always go.”  

“Not a fan yourself?”  

“No, I mean, I like it, you guys have a good team.” You shrugged. This was going terribly, or you would think it was if he wasn’t looking at you like that.  

“Yeah?” He grinned, sliding a little closer to you on the stairs.  

“I should close that door, it’s getting cold in here.” You mentioned, standing up suddenly.  

Rafe couldn’t help his smile as you walked down the steps to the door. He had come out into the hallway because the party was boring, the music was subpar, and Topper was starting to annoy him. He had considered going back to the apartment altogether but he’d just sat on the stairs instead, as if he was waiting for something. And then you’d come along. “We could head back to my place? It’s warm.” He offered. A stupid line, sure, but the last one had played well for him so he tried this one.  

You almost laughed at the cheesiness of his comment. The way he said it, even with how you’d felt when you first realized he was there, was easy, letting you know that the decision was yours entirely. Maybe it was a decision you shouldn’t have been making right this moment but he was gorgeous and anything that had you not thinking about your ex was good enough for you. “Yeah, but I’ll be cold on the way there.”  

His lower lip jutted out, pouting at you playfully, “We’ll drive, you can stay warm in the car, promise.”

-  

Sans Nina stopping by, the next day played out the same as the day before. You managed to hold off checking your Tinder until halfway through lunch. It wasn’t like you’d stopped thinking about it or forgot the whole exchange with Nina the day before. You’d locked the whole thing away to reminisce about at some later date when you were no doubt alone once again. Alone and-  

And he had sent you a message. It just said hey back, and a subtle compliment about your profile picture, telling you that he would kill for beach weather right now and that ‘blue is his favorite color’, you clicking back a second later and realizing that the bathing suit you had on in your profile picture was, in fact, blue. You half wondered if he remembered you and that’s why it was so casual. But he was arguably that casual the night you met too. If you’d been in a less hyper aware state of mind you would’ve never realized he was flirting with you.  

You stared at the message for half of your lunch hour wondering what to say in return. Something witty maybe, though you were feeling as tongue tied as you had that night six years ago. Not at all the confident person you always envisioned yourself being at this point in your life but the nervous one who said dumb stuff that you didn’t mean to.  

-I went last weekend with a friend and it was literally too cold to take my sweatshirt off...fall’s a bitch-  

You replied, attaching a frowning emoji to the end of your sentence. You hated your inability to be cool online. What else could you say though? You couldn’t ask if he remembered you. Say that if he did remember you than you were sorry for never calling and you know how much of an ass matching with him on Tinder probably seems. Or that pathetically enough for you that night and following morning are arguably the best sex you’ve ever had. Or even that his profile picture made him look better than you remembered, god why did you get back together with Ian.  

-  

Rafe had seen the match almost immediately. Working from home that afternoon, he’d only been half paying attention to the zoom meeting that he was on, scrolling through his phone when the notification popped up. He had clicked into Tinder, staring at your name and profile picture off and on for a good hour while he tried to think of something to say to you.  

Something clever.  

He wasn’t exactly the most sentimental person anyone had ever met and he’d slept with plenty of people in college but he knew you the minute he saw your picture. You looked exactly the same as you had that night, though the picture you used for your profile didn’t quite do justice to the way your eyes lit up when you smiled or how ridiculously easy it had been for him to be completely infatuated with you that night.  

You had never called him and he couldn’t fault you for that, it wasn’t exactly like he was screaming boyfriend material back then. He barely was now. Whenever he thought about you, and he was sure it was more frequently than it should be for a one night stand from college, he assumed you’d probably met someone, settled down...all that ridiculous stuff his sister was into.  

He said he liked the blue of your bathing suit in the picture of you and that he wished it was beach weather because seeing you honestly had him missing the Outer Banks more than he expected to. He sent the text and spent the rest of the night feeling like a dumbass. There he was, blowing his chances all over again. But then, halfway through the next day, you texted back.  

-You Bostonians need to work on your weather. -

He responded, as soon as he got the message, and then,  

-I’ll get right on it...any specific requests?-  

Your reply came back a few minutes later, after he checked his phone three more times.

-Warm enough to take you to the beach.-  

Rafe responded a little faster than he probably should have. Maybe a little more desperate than he should have too but he couldn’t be bothered about that.  

-Sans the sweatshirt? -  

-Exactly.-  

He followed the text up immediately with a,  

-but since I can’t take you to the beach, are you free for dinner this Friday?-

-I am, yeah. Where did you have in mind?-  

-Have you been to Menton? -  

-

It was warm in the apartment, even for mid-March with the windows opened. The kind of weather that made you want to stretch out in bed and do nothing all day. Except this wasn’t your bed or your room and the noise coming from the kitchen was definitely not going to help lull you back to sleep. Opening your eyes to the sun streaming through the window, you climbed out of bed, grabbing the t-shirt from the carpeted floor and pulling it over your head.  

You hadn’t intended to stay the night at Rafe’s but really, once you were there you hadn’t wanted to leave. Even now, all you really wanted was to find him and take him back to bed. Maybe not to sleep but definitely to sleep with.  

“Oh my god, you’re so loud,” you teased, walking into the small kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, back to you. He turned at the sound of your voice and you had to appreciate the lack of clothing he had decided to wear to attempt breakfast, just a pair of navy-blue briefs.  

“Watch it, you won’t get any of these world class scrambled eggs.” He replied, pointing his spatula back to the frying pan on the stove.  

You walked closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around you and pull you into his side. “Those do look like some quality eggs,” you observed, putting your arm around his waist.  

This felt so easy you were dreading going back to your dorm eventually. Ian hadn’t even made a guest appearance in your brain and he’d been pretty much the star since the two of you broke up. But right now, all you wanted to focus on was Rafe and getting to spend as much time with him as possible.  

Rafe moved the skillet off the stove and laid the spatula down, using his free hand to grab your waist as he maneuvered you around in front of him. You yelped in surprise when his hands fell to your thighs and he hoisted you up onto the counter.  

“Careful! You almost burned me!” You laughed, swatting his hands away.  

“You’re not even near the burner.” he laughed, pushing your legs apart so he could stand in between them.  

“I thought we were having breakfast?”

“We are.” He reasoned, the innuendo evident as he leaned down and kissed just above your bare knees. “When do you have to be back?”

“Whenever.” You shrugged, more than happy to have this moment play out, uninterrupted.  

-

Menton was the kind of place that other people went to. Not first grade teachers on first grade teacher salaries. Even when you were younger, growing up in the more affluent part of western Massachusetts, you had never really been part of a ‘fancy restaurants’ family. Menton was just some place Nina mentioned when she talked about restaurants too expensive for normal people.  

“What if he remembers me?” You had asked, a few hours earlier, when Nina showed up at your apartment with shoes for your outfit.  

“Did he say he did?” Honestly curious about this guy you had never mentioned to her before.  

“No. But what if he does?” You couldn’t help being paranoid about the whole date. You could still remember the feeling of being around him, of being with him. Rafe hadn’t mentioned to you that he remembered you, and thank god too because how awkward would that conversation had been? Just a ‘hey, aren’t you that girl I hooked up with six years ago in college?’. Why did Nina have to swipe right. Why couldn’t she have minded her own business and believed you when you said that you were over Ian and not at all concerned about the wedding.  

You were freaking yourself out for nothing. Or because you were dressed nicer than you had been in two years and standing outside Menton.  

“Hey.”  

You turned toward the sound of someone calling your name, seeing Rafe walking across the street. You felt very much like you were twenty again, finding him watching you from the stairwell, butterflies in your stomach.  You teetered for a moment on the sidewalk, unsure if you should wait for him to make it all the way to you or just walk up and hug him. That seemed a little extreme, honestly,  

You could still remember the feeling of his arms around you but if he didn’t remember you, and you were banking on him not remembering, it would be odd to just grab him in the street. He eased the tension for you though, reaching an arm out for a side hug once he was close enough. Casual but still not too personal.  

“Hey,” he repeated, stepping away from you for a brief appraisal. “You look beautiful.”  

“Ah, thank you...this place looked so fancy online, I wasn’t sure what to wear.” You admitted.  

“You googled it?” He sounded amused, even as he stepped in front of you to hold the door open and you could just imagine the smirk on his face. The same one he’d worn when you told him that you had seen all of his lacrosse games. (You had seen all the ones after that night too but you always made sure to sit high up in the bleachers and you never stuck around after a game.)

“Well, yeah...I wanted to read the menu.” You replied, pausing briefly as Rafe gave his name to the hostess and she grabbed two menus, walking you through the restaurant to a nice table in the back. Quiet but not too quiet.  

“Hopefully it’s lived up to its reputation so far?” He asked, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying that he remembered how bizarrely neurotic you could be, even in the few hours that he had spent with you.  

“I mean I haven’t eaten the food.” You stressed, looking at him over your shoulder as he pulled your chair out for you. “Thank you.”

He grimaced, as if the possibility of you rating this place, or the date, badly, was still an option then. “The oysters are really good...or the cappotelli.” He suggested, moving around to his side of the table, “do you have a wine preference?”

“Red, otherwise...not really.” You replied, letting him order a bottle for the table. This was somehow exactly the person you’d hooked-up with in college and not that person at all. As if you could see little cracks in the facade of his put-together appearance. “So, are you from Boston?”

“No,” he shook his head. He looked up at you for a moment, breaking his concentration with the menu before he laid the paper off to the side, “I’m from North Carolina, the Outer Banks, I actually ended up moving up here for work.”

“I know this sounds crazy-”

He hummed and you scrunched your nose at him.

“-I’m always like, surprised when people are like, from the beach.” You explained, “like I only think of the beach as vacation place not like a, live there all the time place.”

“That’s cause it gets ridiculously cold up here.” He replied, “No one wants to live on a beach where it snows.”

“The beach is nice off season!” You insisted. “It’s not crowded and you can just like, walk around-”

“If I have to wear a coat to go to the beach, it is not nice.”

“Okay,” you sassed, sticking your tongue out and making him laugh. “So what do you do then? Why’d you move to Boston?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Rafe noted, “I work for an economics firm here. Mostly I moved for the job opportunity but the distance from my family was an added benefit.”

“Well, I say this from a place of extreme bias, Boston is the best city.”  

“It has it’s perks.” He could’ve been talking about a good parking deal but the way he smiled at you when he said it made you feel like he was talking specifically about you.  

-

The date ended with Rafe walking you to the train, his coat over your shoulders because the light jacket that you’d worn had proven not warm enough for the early autumn chill that settled in. You talked about your first-grade class and being nervous for the impending year and he listened, saying that sometimes he felt like he was working with six year olds.  

“At least I can curse in front of my co-workers though.” He lamented.  

You laughed, “I’ve definitely let my fair share of curse words go...and heard quite a few from kids in my classes.”  

“Oh man, I’d fucking lose it if some kid started cursing at me.” Rafe replied.  

At the train station you argued for a few minutes over his coat, him insisting that you just hold on to it (“trust me, if I go 24 hours without seeing you again, I’ll be shocked.”), but you told him you had a severe inability to remember to give anything back and likely he’d never see it again, something he doubted, the implication that this would progress far enough that he would be in your apartment eventually there beneath the surface of his words.  

When the train pulled in, the coat left in your possession, Rafe pulling it tighter around your shoulders and promising that he would get it back eventually. “I’ll text you.” He said, as the doors closed. And, by the time you got home, there was a text from Rafe waiting for you.  

-

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[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

A Place Like This 2

Warnings: this short series will include dark elements including noncon, possible violence, mentions of mental illness, and other explicit content. I’m not your mother, curate your own consumption.

This is dark!Lumberjack!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You start asking questions but you might not like the answers.

Note: I’m a filthy liar and this is gonna be obv more than two parts and I dunno what I’m doing.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your office was the room across the hall from Andy’s, just beside the bathroom and furthest from your mother’s.

You had a routine; it helped you keep on track. You woke up, had a coffee and a small breakfast, and climbed back upstairs to begin your work. At noon, you took a break, you went for a walk or just sat on the porch with your mother if she wasn’t in her room. You returned to work and later in the afternoon you came down to remind your mother about her pills. Then you started dinner as the day was in its final decline.

Andy only changed that slightly. He woke earlier than you did and was on his way out as you got up. He came home around dinner time and you left a plate for him in the oven if he was late. He was quiet, he ate, and went upstairs. The first week went by as such. You almost pitied him for living in what seemed a crowded isolation.

Then the weekend came. Like the other lumber workers, he had those two days to himself. It would be the first real test of your arrangement.

You woke at your usual time and went down to make your coffee. You only wrote for a couple hours on weekends. Breaks were good. You measured the grounds into the percolator and filled it with water. You turned on the decades old stove and turned as you heard the old stairs groan.

Andy appeared in the door. He wore jeans and a thick knitted sweater. His hair, overgrown and shaggy, was pushed away from his face, his beard a shade darker and starting to puff out from its length. You suspected that as a lawyer, he never looked so unkempt and yet even now, he still managed to look refined.

“Hate to be selfish but you think there’s enough for me?” He crossed to the table and sat. 

“Should be,” You rubbed your hands together. You wore an old sweatshirt with a grizzly on the front and your old faded jeans with the bleach stain on the knee. Unfashionable but warm. ‘“Cream, milk, sugar?”

“Black’s fine,” He said as he scratched his chin. “I was thinking today I could stock us up on wood for the fireplace. Since it’s snowing now, it’s better to get it done before the winter is really here.”

You squinted at him and played with the frayed cuff of your shirt. “So, you got a lot of snow in the city?”

“Not as much as here, I’m sure.” He let out a long breath and you saw the cloud in front of him. 

You paused and listened for the rattle of the furnace. “Fuck.” You pushed yourself away from the counter. “I gotta light the furnace.”

“Where is it? I’ll do it.” He offered. “Since you made the coffee.”

“You sure?”

“Think I can handle it,” He stood. “City boy and all.”

“Basement door’s outside. It’s a pain but this place is old and not very well put together.” You said. “There’s a lighter in the drawer.” You pointed at the counter. “Thanks. Oh, and the key too. Hanging by the door with the green tag.”

“Alright,” He crossed to the door. “Think I’ll figure it out.”

He disappeared down the hall and returned with his big boots. He put them on before the back door and unlocked it. He tramped down the steps as the door clattered behind him and you listened to his crisp footsteps. 

You wrung your hands as you thought. Nice enough, you surmised, but evasive. Maybe he wasn’t running from some heinous offense but he was trying to get away from something. You could tell by the way he always seemed to direct the conversation, especially when it turned on him.

You heard the sudden rumble of the furnace and the vents hissing. You turned as the percolator began to shake almost in tandem and the small glass knob bubbled with brown coffee. You took it off the burner as the basement door squeaked and the jingle of the key accompanied the snowy steps across the yard.

Andy kicked off his boots and slipped through the back door. He hung the key and he shook the snow from his hair and smoothed it back. He left his boots on the mat as you poured two mugs. He approached and you slid one to him. He took it with a soft thank you.

You added milk to yours and sat at the table as he did the same. You regretted it almost immediately. You should've taken it up with you and hid in your office. 

"Any plans today?" He asked. You blinked and he rested his palm against the hot mug. "Sorry, it's none of my business."

"Nah, nothing planned," You replied. "So you just plan on chopping wood on your day off?"

"Not much else to do up here. It's nice. Mindless." He shrugged.

"You have a lot you don't want to think about?" You wondered.

His jaw ticked as he eyed you and his lips curled slightly.

"Don't we all?"

"You'd have to to come all the way up here from wherever you're from." You commented. 

"Hmm," He chuckled under his breath. "You'd make a good prosecutor. You don't miss a lot."

"I'm a writer. I write about people, so I gotta study them closely."

"I thought you wrote about animals."

"That's what I'm paid to write about but… I have my own projects." You lifted your mug and tasted the rich brew.

He sucked his bottom lip in as his thoughts wrinkled on his forehead. "Uh huh," He uttered carefully. "Guess that's true then."

"So… is it too much to ask why you ditched being a lawyer?" You asked.

"You do anything long enough and you get bored."

"And you never did anything else? Never got married?" You prodded.

"Well, what about you?" He challenged as he hooked two finger through the handle of his mug. "Not many fish in this pond, huh."

"Touche," Your lips slanted, "You definitely are the lawyer type."

🍂

Later that day, after you gave your mother her second round of pills, you ventured out into the forest that skirt around the old property. The snow was only just past your ankles, the powder fell in spurts but didn’t seem to get much deeper. When you were met with a block or an impasse in your writing, you always came out to the trees to clear your mind. You were done for the day but you had a long week ahead of you.

You kicked the snow of a fallen tree by the river and listened to those critters not yet in hibernation in the blanket branches above. You thought about the man staying in the room next to yours and the answers he would give you; the questions you were too afraid to ask him. 

He wasn’t telling you everything, perhaps he didn’t owe you everything, but the lines in his forehead, the crinkles beside his eyes, the depth of his irises as they watched you. There were things you needed to know about a person and you feared you didn’t know enough about this stranger you’d invited in. You had been too intent on the money, on your own keeping.

Or maybe you were paranoid. You were starting to sound like your mother when she claimed the birds were listening to her and taking the messages back to the monsters of the forest. When she had barricaded herself in her room and refused to come out for fear you were one of them in disguise. The day it had all fallen apart.

Your nose was numb and tingling. You pulled your scarf up over your face and turned back. The snow was crisper now. The temperatures fell with the sun and that happened quickly in the winter. The sky was a dark grey as you came back to the house, the chimney billowed up toward the quarter moon and a soft amber light shone between the curtains of the front room.

You dusted your boots off before you stepped inside. The voice didn’t stop as you took off your coat, scarf, hat, and gloves. You slid your boots off and listened. The scene was unexpected as you peeked into the front room.

Your mother sat with her favourite blanket over her legs before the fire. A fresh stack of wood sat beside it, the basket full of split logs as well. Andy bent to poke at the embers and send up sparks as he got the fire going higher.

“So, this book you’re reading,” He said as he set the poker aside. “Did she get away yet?”

“I don’t think she’s gonna,” Your mother replied as Andy stood and brushed off his jeans. “I don’t think that’s what the story’s about.”

“That’s too bad.” He looked up and his eyes met yours. You moved so that you stood in the doorway. “But I guess that’s truer to life. Not everyone gets their happy ending.”

“Well, I’ve been taking my time because it doesn’t have an ending. Yet.” She explained. “I’m waiting for her to finish.”

Your blood went cold. You crossed your arms and cleared your throat.

“What book is this, ma?” You asked.

She looked around the chair at you and blanched. Andy sat on the sofa and you pushed yourself away from the door frame. Your mother shook her head. 

“I told you not to read my stuff.” You grimaced as you came closer. “It’s a first draft. Unfinished, unedited. It’s… personal.”

“From what she says, it’s pretty good regardless,” Andy offered. “Can’t blame her for her curiosity.”

You looked at him sharply and sighed as you dropped your arms.

“Whatever. Just don’t look at it again til I’m done.” You reprimanded. “Please. I’ll give you a look when I’m ready.”

“Dunno why it’s such a big deal. You write for the magazine all the time.” She grumbled.

“Because this isn’t an article on leaf fauna, ma,” You rubbed your cheek. “You already eat?”

“Just about to. Andy put a casserole in the oven.” She smiled. “Never knew a man who cooked. Your father, he couldn’t even salt his own eggs.”

“Mmm,” You sniffed as the smell of the burning wood melded with another more savoury scent. “Well, thank you, Andy. That was considerate. I’m sorry I waited so late, I was a bit distracted.”

“No problem,” He shrugged. “Really, the least I can do.”

You glanced between him and your mom. She hadn’t been this awake in ages. Her meds usually had her napping until dinnertime and asleep just as quickly after. She was vibrant and more friendly to this man than people she’d known for decades. You felt as if you’d walked in on something. 

“Well, let me know. I’ll be upstairs.” You backed up. “There’s some strudel left from yesterday we can have for dessert.”

You left them and stopped at the bottom of the stairs as you looked back into the front room. Andy’s voice droned as he spoke to your mom and as she chuckled his eyes found yours. They narrowed for just a moment before he turned back and smiled at the older woman. 

Nice enough, you presumed, but why didn’t you believe it?

🍂

The next day, you watched Andy through the window. The snow was thicker, a harbinger of the storm that had been brewing for over a week. He crossed to the trees, his boots barely higher than the blanket below. He sank down with each step. Only a fool would venture out as the windows billowed and flung the snow errantly.

You tore yourself away and pulled the curtain shut. You crept out into the hall and listened. Your mother slept late that day and when you gave her her pills, she’d just rolled over and fallen back to sleep. 

You neared the door of Andy’s room and your hand hesitated on the knob. You took a breath and twisted it. You entered and were struck by the man’s smell; of his sweat and the deodorant that always lingered around him. The bed was made and the room barely looked lived in. 

You walked slowly to the closet. Flannel shirts and jackets hung within above a single suitcase.

You felt a pang of guilt. Had you not just chided your mother for her snooping? You bent and unzipped the bag. It was empty. You checked the pockets; empty too. You stood and slid the door back into place. You went to the bed, the table next to it with the drawer that didn’t quite shut all the way and you wiggled it open.

The bible your mother left in there as if it were a hotel and pack of smokes. You’d never seen Andy smoke, never even smelled it on him. You took the carton and flipped open the top. Inside, a folded picture. You tiptoed to the window and looked out. His footprints faded into the trees.

You slid the photo out and opened it with shaky hands. It was Andy, shorter hair, trimmed beard, smiling, his arm around a dark-haired woman and a young boy in front of them. You folded it quickly and pushed it back behind the sticks in the pack. You placed it as you had found it and forced the drawer shut. 

Was he running from his own family? Or maybe, what had happened to them?

You fled his room and closed the door guiltily. You were only more confused than before. You descended the stairs and hastily pulled your coat from the hook. Your hat was pulled on carelessly and you tied your boots without thinking. You pushed your hands into your gloves and angled yourself out the door. It was fucking cold; the fleece lining of your coat made little difference.

You grunted as you forced your boots through the snow and followed Andy’s tracks as they filled with a new layer of powder. You weren’t sure what you were doing, why you were doing it. What could he be doing all the way out in the woods which would be incriminating?

You went on, even as the questions floated in your mind. You followed his large boot prints, placing your feet in them as you followed his path. You came to a stop before the river, the overturned tree showed where someone had brushed aside the snow. The tracks veered off away from the log and you looked around.

You were forced back into an upright trunk, the breath knocked out of you as Andy pinned you with his arm across your chest. His eyes seared into you as he leaned his weight into you and you gasped for air as you smacked his shoulder.

“Why are you following me?” He growled.

“What? Andy, let me--” You gasped, barely able to breathe, the snow clumping in your lashes. “And--”

“Hmm? I see you watching me. I see the way you look at me.” He hissed. “I help you, help your mother and what? What do you think I am?” He grabbed your chin, his hide glove rough against your skin. “Am I that villain you write about? Is that what you think?”

“No, I…” You smacked him again and again. “I was just---” He let off just a little as you gulped for air. “There’s a storm. You shouldn’t be out here--”

“You think I can’t handle a storm?” He snarled. “You’re not a very good liar and trust me, I’ve known a lot of liars.”

“Let go of me.” You pleaded. “Jesus Christ, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I followed you, okay? I was just… curious.”

“Uh huh,” He turned you and forced his arm around your neck as he bent you over. You kicked as he dragged you through the snow towards the river. “WHat do you think? I’m hiding some big secret like one of those books you read?”

“Let--go,” Your feet slid through the blanket below. “Stop! What are you--”

“You think I’m what? A criminal? A murderer!?” He pulled you up and spun you away from him. You stumbled backwards as you faced him. 

Your boots slid beneath you and you hearth the hard thunk of your sole against the the ice. Thick but not thick enough. You held out your hands as you looked down at the river coursing below the brittle surface. Your heart raced in your ears. You tried to take a step forward but he was at the bank, watching you.

“Ah ah,” He raised his hand. “You stay where you are.”

“What are you doing?” You pushed your feet apart. “Andy--”

“Terrible accident you falling through the ice like that. There’s just so much snow, you can’t really tell where the water begins.” He smiled and tucked his hands in his pocket as you heard the slow crack beneath you. “Your mother will be devastated.”

You swallowed as your eyes wetted and you looked between him and your feet. You lifted your boot and the snap below you had your heart in your throat. You plunged into the freezing water with a shrill shriek, your arms flying up to grab onto the ice. 

The frozen sheet broke as you tried to latch on and you kicked as the water soaked your coat and dragged you down into the depth further. You flapped helplessly and spun in circles in the waves. The water filled your lungs and you choked and you stared up through the frigid foam, the blurry shadow staring down at you.

The cold bit deep into your flesh and your limbs weakened the more you struggled. The water smothered you and your body spasmed in the thralls of finality. Your eyes rolled back and the dark water flowed around you in welcome.

[horansqueen]

Stuck With You - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Things I’ll Never Say

🡪chapter 1  🡪chapter 2  🡪chapter 3  🡪chapter 4  🡪chapter 5  🡪chapter 6  🡪chapter 7  🡪chapter 8  🡪chapter 9  🡪chapter 10  🡪chapter 11 🡪chapter 12 🡪chapter 13 🡪chapter 14 🡪chapter 15 🡪chapter 16 🡪chapter 17 🡪chapter 18 🡪chapter 19 🡪chapter 20 🡪chapter 21 🡪chapter 22 🡪chapter 23 🡪chapter 24 🡪chapter 25 🡪chapter 26 🡪chapter 27 🡪chapter 28 🡪chapter 29 🡪chapter 30 🡪chapter 31 🡪chapter 32  🡪chapter 33 🡪chapter 34

College Enemies To Lovers AU

characters // masterlist // instagrams // mood board

If I could say what I want to say I'd say I want to blow you, away Be with you every night Am I squeezing you too tight If I could say what I want to see I want to see you go down On one knee Marry me today Guess, I'm wishing my life away With these things I'll never say

It don't do me any good It's just a waste of time What use is it to you What's on my mind If ain't coming out We're not going anywhere So why can't I just tell you that I care

click here to be on the update list

DEVON

                                                  I woke up with a groan and felt my head throb and ache just like it would do if I was hungover. I hadn't had a single drop even if I should have when I remembered the way I painted and for how long. I was pretty sure I had fallen asleep on the floor but when I opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was Niall's pretty face very close to mine.

My heart jumped in my chest and my lips parted before I licked them. He was sleeping and he looked so peaceful and motionless that I started wondering if he was actually breathing. I slipped my hand under the cover to reach for his naked chest and held my breath at how warm his skin was. It was a miracle my cold hand didn't wake up up but I still waited a few seconds, trying to feel his heart beating in his chest.

Every time I looked at him, I felt something twist in my stomach. I knew he wanted us to be official and if I listened to my heart, that's what I wanted too, but risking it was so scary I couldn't find the courage to give in to his request. I thought about Henry and how he had broken me, and I thought about Abby and how Niall could break me even more. There was no was I could heal my heart if he hurt me, it would be turned to complete dust and I knew it.

I found myself jealous of the way Niall was in love with Abby, and how he would have done anything for her. I was jealous of a past relationship of the man I had refused to date and I hated myself for it. I knew it wasn't rational and that it made no sense but I couldn't help it.

Perhaps, if I had met Niall before I met Henry... maybe if he had met me before he met Abby... In that specific case, maybe we could give each other the chance and the love we both deserved. The problem was that we both went through the exact same thing, or almost, and apparently, two persons who went through the same thing can understand each other, but can't help each other. I didn't know how true that saying was but I had heard it enough to hear it echo in my head every time I wanted to love again.

I brought my hand up to his face and brushed my fingertips on his cheek so softly that I felt a shiver run in my back. One of my fingers reached his bottom lip and I felt myself tear up. I had never met in my life a man like Niall and he was slipping through my fingers because of my fears and anticipations. It was unfair, and it was stupid, but the knot in my stomach was there permanently and I couldn't make it disappear. All the feelings that came back when I saw Henry again made me remember how bad love hurts and at that exact moment, laying in bed in front of Niall, I knew it was true.

I desperately wanted to kiss him but I knew he didn't want us to do anything anymore so I just swallowed hard and got out of the bed slowly. I searched for my painting and found it on the desk in a corner of the room, sighing low. I hated it and started nibbling on my bottom lip, trying to remember that I always hated my art in the first few days after making it, and that it was normal. Besides, artists are the worst critics of their own art.

I heard Niall move in bed and turned around just in time to see him reach for a pillow and bring it against him. He let out a short whimper and it made me wonder if he would have cuddled me if I was still in bed. I shook my head, trying to push that thought away, and finally search for a pen in the room, finally finding one in one of the drawers. I sat on the couch and started scribbling a few words on a paper. I really sucked at writing songs, but I could clearly remember a melody, especially one that really touched me, and it came in handy at that moment.

When I was done, I re-read what was written on the paper and raised my nose up before sighing again and folding the sheet, putting it away in my bag. I decided to take a quick shower to take the paint off my arms and face and when I walked back in the room, Niall was awake. I stopped walking and held my breath at the sight of his naked back. It's not like I had never seen Niall only wearing boxers but perhaps knowing I'm never get to touch him again made something twist in my stomach.

"Oh, hey." he let out when he turned around. "How did you sleep?"

I wanted to tell him that I slept better than I had in a while, if only because he was with me in the same bed. When I woke up, I felt the warmth of his body emanate on mine even if we weren't touching and I loved it way too much. I couldn't tell him that it would have been even better if he was holding me all night, but I wanted to, because I felt it all over my body. I felt it so intensely that I had to swallow a lump in my throat.

"Was nice, and you?"

"Good, thanks." he said, putting on sweatpants. "Better than the floor."

I sent him a small smile that he sent back and I licked my lips. "Thanks for bringing me in bed and tucking me in, last night. I vaguely remember."

"You're welcome, Devie."

I felt my heart flutter at the nickname and I realized I'd never get over it.

"So, you're going skiing today?"

"Snowboarding, yea." he let out, searching for his stuff in his bags. "You're gonna join us downstairs in a few hours?"

I nodded quickly and pressed my lips together as I stared at him. I loved how he moved around the room like it was just a random day and we were just used tp be around each other like that. To some extent, we were, since we shared the same room on campus, but it felt slightly different at that moment, more intimate, maybe. I let my mind wander, imagining what it would be like if we ended up dating and living together. Was that what I would see in the morning before he actually went to work?

"Okay, I'm ready. I'll see you later?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Mmhm." I nodded as I imagined him walking closing to me and bending down to kiss me.

Why did I like this scenario so much it made my heartbeats accelerate? I watched him leave and when the door closed behind him, I felt extremely empty and lonely. I got up after a few minutes and walked to my painting again, running my fingertips slowly on the colors I had used. Was it crazy to start painting with light colors so early after a break up? I turned my head to look at the door, hoping it would open again as my heart thumped hard in my chest. It was Niall, I knew it. It was him that brought in me all these new emotions and I liked it so much I felt myself tear up.

Without thinking, I searched through my bag and found a few pictures I had taken. I had taken the time to develop them by myself in the college darkroom and I had loved the result. Despite myself, the lights had added a few pale yellow spots and it looked amazing. At first, I wanted to numerize them and modify them but I realized I didn't need to.

I sat in bed and looked at them carefully. There were no full faces on any of them. My favorite was one of  Niall's naked shoulder with a bit of his back and hair. We could also see the top of my head and part of my forehead in it too as I lied down beneath him, and his fingers were slipped in my hair. I had no idea why this specific shot made me feel emotional but it was strong and it made something twist in my chest.

I got up and grabbed the piece of paper I had put in my bag earlier before I walked to the desk, sitting down in front of it. Slowly and carefully, I copied the lyrics I had scribbled while Niall was asleep behind the picture, along with a few lyrics that didn't belong to me. I had taken a lot of pictures in my life, but nothing like this one. Perhaps it was only because it meant so much to me... because he meant so much to me. It actually made me want to pain that picture and I quickly grabbed a blank canvas from my stuff before grabbing a pen. I was never really good at drawing people, I felt like the human body was too complex to draw, but I decided to make an exception this time. It didn't really matter anyway. When I'd add paint, the forms wouldn't be as defined and even if I knew nothing could be better than the actual picture, I felt like not painting it would eat me up inside.

I couldn't tell how long it took me but when I didn't stop until I was done. Normally, a painting like that could take me many days to create but somehow, it had turned out the way I wanted after only a few hours. I left it on the floor and decided to finally take an other shower, if only to take the paint from my hands, arms and face. I got out and quickly dressed before checking my phone. I had no message and I raised my nose up, telling myself they were probably busy skiing but I still decided to get downstairs, to the common living room. I loved how all the couches were placed with a fireplace in the middle. The first thing that made my heart jump in my chest was a laughter. I recognized it because I had to hear it for hours on a certain night and every time, it made my heart drop in my chest. Today was no exception. My eyes roamed around and found Abby who was laughing, throwing her head back. She was still wearing her beanie and coat and when I noticed Niall was the one she was talking with, I felt nauseous. He laughed too before taking a sip of his drink and Abby moved closer, placing her hand on his arm and letting it slip down.

I swallowed hard, knowing it probably meant nothing but telling myself that if this simple gesture made me feel like that, I'd never be able to be around Niall if he was dating an other girl, especially if that girl was Abby.

I held my breath and my lips parted when Niall turned around and our eyes met. I felt myself tear up and shook my head lightly before turning on my heels and leaving. I tried to keep my tears in, knowing it was ridiculous to be sad for that, and just as I was reaching the elevator, I felt his warm hand on my arm.

"Hey, Devie, where are you going?" he asked softly as I turned around. His face changed when he saw mine and took a step closer. "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying!" I let out a bit too roughly, taking a step back. "I didn't want to annoy you while you were flirting with your ex girlfriend."

"Devie, we weren't flirting." he argued. "At least, I was not."

"She was all over you." I just replied.

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "So? That's what Abby does! Besides, you're texting with Henry and I haven't thrown a tantrum about it!"

"I'm not texting with Henry, what are you talking about?"

"You told me he messaged you when we were at my apartment!" he pointed out, making me frown.

"Yes! But I never said I answered him!" I let out a but louder. "Because I didn't!"

His face changed, his traits softened and he took a step closer. "You didn't?"

His voice was low and gentle and it calmed me instantly.

"No. I want to move on from him, I don't love him anymore."

Once again, Niall took a step closer and took his beanie off. I felt my lips curl very slightly on the light at the sight of his hair and he quickly passed his hand in it, messing it even more. He looked so pretty I felt my head tilt a bit on the right.

"If... If it makes you feel better, I don't have feelings for Abby anymore either. I can't even understand why I ever was in love with her." he added with a shrug. "Not that you really care, because you don't love me like that, right?"

I stared at him and blinked a few times, trying to decide what I was supposed to say. I could be mad at him but I loved the way he was looking at me, as if I was the only person that mattered in the world, as if he was about to jump on me to make me feel all the damn feelings he had for me inside him.

"Did I say that?" I just asked with an amused smile before licking my lip, taking a step back.

"Hey, stay with us, we were about to go out for dinner." he quickly proposed as we heard the doors of the elevator open. "You came here to spend time with your friends, right?"

My eyes roamed on him and I finally nodded. "Alright."

----

Niall was still telling me a story when we walked back in our room. It was late but neither of us really cared. I had a small talk with Louis who presented me his new girlfriend Eleanor, and I immediately liked her. Lewis was funny and the way Daxia looked at him made me happy. I tried not to give too much attention to Noah but he still bought me a drink and we had a small chat. All I wanted, though, was to be close to Niall, and I ended up scared he'd be annoyed that I followed him better than his own shadow. At some point, he had placed his hand on my thigh, moving closer to me to ask me if I wanted an other drink, but all I could think about was the fact that he was touching me.

We didn't drink too much though and when we closed the door of our room behind us, I was laughing because he was funny, and not because I was tipsy. He turned around and took a few steps back as I followed him, but when his lips curled into a cheeky smile, it made me frown.

"What do you have in mind?" I asked, unable to stop smiling.

"Are you tired?"

I frowned more but it only made his smile bigger. "Mm, no. Why?"

"Do you trust me?"

That question took me by surprise but I didn't have to ask myself the question. The answer came naturally. "Yes."

And I trusted him. I trusted him more than I trusted pretty much anyone, and it was one of the things that scared me in this relationship, whatever it was.

"Thank you." he just whispered, holding out his hand to me.

I breathed in but still slipped my palm on his and quickly, he pulled me out of the room. Instead to take the elevators, he brought me to the stairs and we ran down until the main floor, stopping abruptly in front of a door. I held my breath as Niall opened it very slowly, peeking out for a few seconds and finally holding his hand back for me. I grabbed it and he turned around to look in my eyes, bringing his finger on his lips to tell me to keep quiet. I nodded and followed him on the other side of the door until we reached a second door. He tried to open it but groaned and raised his nose up when he realized it was locked.

"Fuck."

I moved to look through the window and my lips curled when I noticed a pool. The lights of the room were off but there were a few at the bottom of the pool and the sight was great.

"I'm gonna try to steal the keys." he added, taking me out of my thoughts and making me blink.

"No wait!" I stopped him in a whisper, holding his arm. "What if you get caught?"

He sent me a small smile and his eyes roamed on my face before he shook his head. "Don't worry."

He left and I felt my hand slip from his arm. I held my breath and remained motionless as I waited for him to come back and it seemed to take forever. When he appeared again, my heart jumped in my chest, scared that it could be someone else, but he stopped right in front of me as I raised my eyebrows. A smirk quickly draw itself on his lips and he moved his hand up, showing me a  keychain with at least 20 keys on it.

"Okay, I'm impressed." I admitted low, making him chuckle.

It took him a few tries and he finally unlocked the door. We walked in slowly and when he closed the door behind us, I turned around to look at him.

"I don't have a swimsuit." I admitted, tilting my head.

"You have underwear." he chuckled, making me raise my eyebrows. "What? Nothing I haven't seen, isn't it what you said the other day?"

I pressed my lips together and moved my chin in his direction. "You, first."

He chuckled again and without hesitation, grabbed the bottom of his shirt, moving it over his head. I let my eyes travel on his chest as he worked on the button and zipper of his jeans, finally taking them off along with his socks. He looked way too good, illuminated by the soft lights in the pool, and my heart skipped a beat. I moved my gaze up until my eyes met his again and he sent me a soft smile.

"Your turn."

[belphegor1982]

not sure if you're doing the prompt list, but parenthood (6) with leonard snart and janet? 👉👈 i'm in love with your characterizations of len and his wife 💕

It took me two weeks, but there it is :D

Parenthood (DCAU)

When she’d been a kid, Janet had – very naturally – assumed that her adult life would match her parents’, or their neighbours: a house, a husband, a dog, a white picket fence, not necessarily in that order. And kids. Like an afterthought, something not really important so much as vaguely necessary.

She hadn’t thought about it until a couple of years or so into her and Len’s marriage. They’d had somewhat rocky beginnings: she’d been fierce, he’d been grumpy, and they’d both been so damn young they hadn’t seen how ridiculous they were, dancing around each other like they weren’t sure they were allowed this… that. ‘Relationship’ was too big a word. Whatever they had, though, they had kept, because it was good and it was theirs. One day it had hit Janet that Len basically only went back to his crappy little apartment to shower; one night they’d been in bed, sweaty and tired and stupid happy, and as Janet reached for the book on her bedside table afterwards while Len scribbled on his ‘heist ideas’ notebook like he’d been struck with sudden inspiration, she had realised in a rush that she wanted the rest of her life to be like this.

“Wanna get married, one of these days?” she’d asked, almost not nervous at all.

Len had stared at her long enough to make her start to regret asking. Then he’d given a small smile, the very rare sort that showed in his eyes.

“Sure,” he’d said, and that was that.

They’d gotten married six months later. Janet wore blue. Her parents showed up, despite the disapproval hanging thick in the air – her father convinced that she could ‘do a lot better than a thug’, her mother ice-cold at the thought of her daughter marrying ‘some two-bit crook’. Len had only invited his sister, a stunning young blonde who’d been friendly to Janet but still appeared put-out that the invitation didn’t extend to her boyfriend.

“He’s a jerk,” Len had said later, making Janet laugh.

“You’re a jerk, Len.”

“Not the same kind. He’s stuck-up. Lisa’s too good for him anyway.”

“Yeah, well. That’s not up to you to decide, is it? It’s your sister’s choice.”

“I know, I just… She deserves better. Better than she got as a kid.”

Janet had looked at him, long and careful, suddenly a little tense.

“Do you think she’s… not safe? With him?”

Len had blinked, then shaken his head.

“Nah, nothin’ like that. You can tell Dillon’s actually good to her. Nothing like…” He had trailed off, something hard and cold and sudden in his eyes like someone had slammed closed a pair of shutters. That had only lasted for ten seconds before he’d shrugged. “I just wish he wasn’t such a dick, that’s all.”

Then he’d abruptly changed the subject, and Janet had followed, because she knew precarious ground when she saw it.

* * * *

Living with someone in the intimate way meant noticing a lot of things about them, more or less willingly.

Len had cottoned on pretty early to her tendency to snap when she was tired or angry, and of holding nothing back then. She also caught him looking at the crisscross pattern of scar tissue on her knuckles from when she’d punched a wall, repeatedly, after the girl who’d been her best friend in school was battered to death by her boyfriend. “I only slapped her around a bit,” the bastard had said, and ten years later Janet still wished that she’d had the guts to punch him instead. She’d finally told Len about it one day, and seen his face go stone and his eyes ice. His cold fury had been comforting.

It went both ways. She noticed things about her husband, too. Like some odd scars she had a feeling he hadn’t picked up in juvie, the trace of a cigarette burn in the hollow of his right shoulder, or the mark – still chillingly precise even years later – of a belt buckle in the small of his back. She wondered whether Lisa had similar scars. Not that she’d ask. She and her sister-in-law didn’t have that kind of relationship.

Janet had a past. Len had a past. That was what being human meant. Sometimes that felt more like dragging a corpse through the dust wherever you went than a happy set of picture-perfect memories, but it was part of the whole package.

The major reason Janet didn’t entertain the idea of kids for longer than a passing thought was because she didn’t want any – for the moment, she told herself, even as she kept forgetting to really think about it. She’s grown up with the distinct impression that she hadn’t been wanted, or had come at an inconvenient time to her parents. The last thing she wanted was to make a kid feel like that.

The lesser reason was everything Len wasn’t saying. He wasn’t crazy about opening up about things either important or trivial, though he did anyway because they both liked to get their point across clearly. But she’d never, ever heard him say anything at all about his life before he’d struck out on his own, a couple of years short of eighteen years old. His sister Lisa was six years younger, and that was all Janet knew. Family, parents, home life – Len didn’t let anything slip. This, combined with the scars and a few odd reactions, carefully hidden under a lot of attitude, told her more than he appeared willing to share.

One day, when he’d been nicely mellowed out by a good score and a shared bottle of the good stuff to celebrate, she had asked him, “Do you ever think about having kids?”

The split-second look he’d given her still haunted her to this day. She had seen him angry, she had seen him silent, cheerful and surly and balking at house chores, but it hadn’t crossed her mind that he could ever be afraid.

“No,” he’d answered curtly. “Why?”

“Just wondering. Kevin from logistics just had his third the other day. Kept asking me when I’d finally get started on my own.”

“Kevin from logistics needs to mind his own damn business.”

“That’s what I told him,” said Janet, and Len smirked. “Anyway, he got me thinking. Turns out I don’t think I want kids. You know, at all.”

The relief on his face was as fleeting as the fear, but just as stark.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like what we have.” A pause. “You’ve really never thought about having kids one day?”

“Sure I did, once – for about five seconds. Weirdest five seconds of my life.”

She’d given him a look, half amused, half a smile. Relax, Len. You’re not getting interrogated.

“That bad?”

“Look, I don’t… Kids are weird, all right? Adults I can deal with. Besides, all I know is how not to be a father. No way I’m risking—no way.”

That was as close as he ever came to telling her why she’d never even heard Snart Sr.’s first name. But it was enough. They closed the subject and moved on to other things.

* * * *

And then it turned out that Metropolis and Gotham were not the only cities that could boast an actual superhero, because Central City quickly became aware of a lean, young-looking man in a red costume who called himself the Flash and went after burglars and thieves with superhuman speed. Whoever he was, whatever he was, he added an element of danger to her husband’s chosen profession, and Janet took an instant dislike to him and his big smug smile. Then she dismissed him from her mind quickly enough.

Len, though, was a very different story.

While he didn’t like the Flash any more than Janet did, the guy’s addition to the tried-and-true equation of cops and robbers added an edge that hadn’t been present before. Having an actual superhero in town made all of Len’s old research on absolute zero – and tinkering in the basement – not only relevant but useful. He designed a ‘cold gun’ from plans he’d stolen years ago, looking more excited than Janet had seen him in the last eight years, and worked hard to ‘up his game’.

Privately, Janet thought that, for a man who claimed to be as serious about his trade as Len did, creating a brand-new persona complete with parka, visor, and goofy moniker was hilarious.

Not that she ever actually laughed at him. Especially not the one time Len came back from a heist with an armful of cash and a weird look on his face.

“He’s a kid, Jan,” he said when Janet had asked him what could be wrong when he’d clearly got away with the loot unscathed. “He’s a goddamn kid. I don’t think he’s even old enough to drink.”

“What the hell is he playing at, then?” she exclaimed. “This job is not kid’s stuff! What was he thinking, that he could waltz in and play Superman, just like that?”

“I don’t know.” Len took off his visor and pinched the bridge of his nose. Then his eyes hardened. “And I don’t care. I like my job. If this guy thinks he can stop me, then he’d better be prepared to try harder.”

“I got him good today, though,” he said hours later, in the small hours of the night, after Janet’s hands had searched for his, cool and calloused, under the covers.

Something tensed inside in the region of her stomach.

“You didn’t kill him, did you?”

“Of course not,” he snapped, looking annoyed that she’d even ask. Janet’s guts relaxed. “I’m a crook, not a murderer. Besides, you know the second someone offs that guy, Superman or another big hero is gonna show up and turn the city inside out in revenge. It’d be like when a cop gets killed. They close ranks and start shooting indiscriminately.”

“So when you say you ‘got him good’ –”

“I just sent him packin’. Didn’t rough him up more than I would a cop. The kid’s got a mean right hook but he has no idea how real cold works, speed or no speed.”

Janet closed her eyes again and murmured, “Maybe he’ll quit, then.”

“Maybe.” Even half-asleep, she could tell that this ‘maybe’ meant ‘fat chance’.

“So… on the off-chance that today didn’t put him off, what are you gonna do?”

“I was thinking I might hit Drake & Hall Savings on Infantino Street next month.”

“I meant about the Flash.”

Len’s voice was low but certain when he said, “Me too. I’ll just keep doing my job, and if this joker is as serious as he claims to be, he’ll keep trying to stop me. But I’m not gonna drop everything just because of a kid in a onesie and a mask. I’ll just have to find ways to slow him down.”

The last thought that coalesced in Janet’s mind just before she nodded off was Did my husband just become a supervillain?

She fell asleep before the laugh passed her lips.

* * * *

While ‘supervillain’ might have been stretching things – not to mention the word made Janet choke up on laughter – Len’s new approach to the job was certainly different from the one he’d had before the Flash came along. He still refused the label, though, arguing that supervillains had powers, costumes, and delusions of grandeur, while he just had a cold gun, a parka, and banks to rob.

“Okay,” said Janet when she was in a ribbing mood, “what’s the Joker’s power, then?”

This usually earned her a deadpan look.

At least Len didn’t remain the only crook with a gimmick and an eccentric costume for long. Soon her husband had colleagues, fellow not-supervillains, some of whom not only willing to work together but also seemed to actually appreciate it. Their ‘powers’ were not innate, nor did they get them in freaky accidents; like Len, they either stole tech or were savvy enough to design it. And they all rejected the label of ‘supervillain’.

They were ‘rogues’. Or rather, Rogues. And Len – who knows why – took the place of the de facto leader.

Of her husband’s coworkers, Janet got on with Mick Rory the best. She liked his even temper, his slight smile, and the fact that he generally found it easy to keep a level head. Digger Harkness was his exact opposite, and her whole life she could never quite shake off the urge to slap him whenever he opened his mouth. The others were scattered along the scale between those two extremes: some were never quite sure what to do with her (or she with them – apart from making sure the old couch in the basement could be slept on and keeping an eye on their quickly-dwindling stock of coffee and beer packs), while others were more accommodating about having to spend time with ‘Len’s missus’.

One day Janet caught James pilfering one of the cookies she’d baked herself for the next night she’d have to spend alone. He looked so terrified at being caught red-handed that she refrained from rolling her eyes and told him to help himself and share with his musician friend.

She drew the line at pointing out Hartley was too skinny, though. Just because the young man was friendly and polite and, indeed, looked rather underfed didn’t mean she had any right to turn into her Aunt Debbie. She’d rather die first. Besides, she wasn’t the kid’s nanny, was she?

Nevertheless, the cookies proved a success. Like the couch in the basement, like the stocking up on beer packs, like the occasional patching-up of scrapes not serious enough to warrant a trip to the hospital, they surreptitiously became a habit.

* * * *

Over the years, Janet Snart slid smoothly into middle-age never regretting once her decision not to have children. Turned out being a woman, a wife, a friend, and a sometimes kind-of-support to a bunch of Rogues was quite enough.

Parenthood was overrated, anyway.

______________

Hope you liked, @orion-nottson 💜

Timeline notes thingy: Janet and Len met when they were about 25-27 and got married a couple of years later. ‘Dillon’ is of course Roscoe Dillon, the Top, who has a blink-and-you-miss-it cameo in the JLU episode with the Rogues, but since I don’t want to kill him or Lisa, I’m thinking he was her ice skating trainer, they fell in love, and didn’t go into villainy.

Wally was the first Flash of this universe - maybe the second and Jay was a superhero in the 1940s? - since he says “my uncle’s flying in” for the ceremony. Also, when he first pops up in this story he’s not quite 16, while Len is a bit over 30.

...I really overthink these things, huh 😅

[a-singleboat]

Green-Eyed Valentine

Word Count: 1.7k

Request: Hey! I really liked what you did with my last request, so I was wondering if you could do one where Damien (or Shayne) get jealous because reader gets a valentine's day gift from someone else, please? - @lula132

A/N: We’re getting into all those Shayne requests!

Warning(s): Mentions of alcohol, mentions of cheating, swearing

Valentine’s Day. Objectively the worst holiday in your eyes. On top of still having to go to work, it’s only really socially acceptable to give another person a box of chocolates as a gift. Where was the variety? The flavor? 

Additionally, you and your long-term boyfriend, Shayne, had decided to forego gifts that year in favor of saving up for a house together. That meant birthdays, Christmas, and yes, Valentine’s Day gifts, were off the table because you both spend an outrageous amount of money on each other each year. So imagine your surprise upon seeing a gift neatly wrapped in the same red gift wrap the two of you had in your apartment sitting on your desk early Valentine’s Day morning. 

“I thought we agreed on no gifts, Shayne.” You picked up the wrapped item, turning it over in search of a tag. When you found there was none, it only made you more suspicious of your boyfriend. 

“That wasn’t me,” he said, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you fiddle with a loose piece of wrapping paper on the side. While he recognized the wrapping paper, he was one-hundred percent sure that he hadn’t bought you anything. You could check his bank statement if you didn’t believe him. 

“Yeah, I’m sure thousands of people have that exact same wrapping paper,” Courtney chimed in. You had no idea where she had come from but judging by the still-steaming coffee in her hands, you were willing to bet from the office kitchen. “I’m pretty sure Ian has that wrapping paper, too.” 

You blinked, unsure on how to process that information. “So you think Ian got me a Valentine’s Day gift?” 

“Why would Ian--?”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” Courtney cut Shayne off with a laugh, settling her coffee on your desk. She took the gift from your hands, smoothing back the bit of wrapping paper you had been playing with. “I’m just making a point. This could have been literally anyone in the office.”

You gave her a smirk. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Uh, a who-dunnit in which we figure out who put this present there?”

Shayne looked a little more than peeved at that. “And when you find out who left the gift there, you can tell them that you’re in a loving relationship and have been for the past eight years.” 

You pinched his cheeks, making kissy faces at your boyfriend. “Don’t worry. I’ll be sure to tell them that my incredibly handsome, loving, and amazing boyfriend didn’t appreciate their gift, bubba.”

Shayne’s cheeks reddened at the nickname, eyes rolling as you leaned in to pepper his face in butterfly kisses. He could be as jealous or as grumpy as he wanted but as long as he knew you were his, all was well. You trusted him and you were sure as hell that he trusted you as well. 

“Go find out who sent you the gift.” He moved his face out of range of your constant kisses, taking one of your hands in his and pressing a soft kiss of his own to your knuckles to let you know he wasn’t mad. “And don’t call me bubba at work, that’s reserved for home and home only.” 

With a laugh, you agreed. The nickname ‘bubba’ would stay home from thereon out. You turned to Courtney, who had taken to shaking the box in an attempt to figure out what was inside. The item rattled slightly, most likely having been swaddled tightly by tissue paper within the cardboard casing. 

“It sounds like pottery,” Courtney deduced, giving it another firm shake. The rattling, similar to the sound of a metal spoon hitting the side of a ceramic bowl, made you wary of the way your friend was manhandling the gift. 

“Maybe someone left it here on accident and it’s not actually for me,” you suggested. “After all, there’s no note or anything. I think even if it was from a secret admirer--which it’s not--” you gave Shayne a pointed look-- “I still think there’d be a note of some kind.” 

“But we still can’t strike one out,” Courtney pointed out, setting the box down. The shiny red paper sparkled under the shitty office lights, the glitter already wearing off on, well, everything. “Okay, maybe if we start by eliminating people in the office we’ll find who the gift came from faster.”

“Good idea,” you said, pulling out a spare sheet of paper from your desk. Your fingers sought out a pen, yanking the cap off with your teeth. Quickly, you scribbled down the names of all the coworkers you can into regular contact with“So we already know it’s not from Shayne or you--that’s two people down already. And despite the fact that Ian also has this same wrapping paper, I really don’t think he would have left this for you.” 

“Okay that’s three people down,” you crossed the names out, marking a heart next to Shayne’s name. You flipped the paper over, showing him the little heart you’d drawn. He frowned but caught the kiss you blew his way anyhow. 

“Here’s an idea,” Shayne said, rolling his chair closer to you. Courtney took a noisy sip of her iced coffee, looking between the two of you like a tennis match. “Maybe, someone accidentally left it on your desk. Like any second now, someone’s gonna come by looking for that thing.”

You glanced at the neatly wrapped box, a little battered from Courtney’s thorough examination. It was possible that it wasn’t supposed to be meant for you. It was half-on-half-off your desk originally, the original cart it had shared had been pushed away by now, moved to the other side of the room. 

You pulled the box toward you, running your finger along the middle and feeling for the sticky residue that would be a tell-tale sign of the tape that had once been there. Once you found it, you tapped the pad of your finger a few times watching as the paper clung to your skin before separating. 

“The label’s fallen off,” you voiced your observation, looking around the floor for it. “If we find that, we’ll find who this was addressed to and who sent this in the first place.”

Courtney immediately set her drink down, getting on her hands and knees in search of the label. You set the box back down on your desk and got on your hands and knees as well, tying your hair out of your line of sight. You pushed Shayne away, laughing as he rolled back a bit further than you thought he would. 

“Do you see it?” you asked, using your phone’s flashlight to look in the dark shadows under your desk. You squinted as the flashlight caught on something shiny, frowning when you saw that it was only a scrap piece of laminate. You picked it up anyways, disposing of it correctly and sitting back on your heels. 

Courtney’s arm was halfway under your desk on the other end, reaching for something. You watched as she extracted a thin piece of cardstock. She waved the paper around, blowing off the bit of dust clinging to the corner. 

“To, Jessica… who’s Jessica?” 

You crowded over her shoulder to read the label. “I have no clue who Jessica is, but if we know the sender we can get it back to them.”

She unfolded the paper a bit more. “From… Ian? Is Ian dating?”

“This is way more exciting than me having a secret admirer, oh my God!” You took the label from Courtney, taping the label back down onto the box. “We should really get this back to Ian though.” 

Courtney took the box from you, subtly glancing over your shoulder at your still-pouting boyfriend. He was trying to be sneaky, looking over at the two of you when he thought you weren’t looking. You rolled your eyes, laughing as you realized what was happening. 

“He’ll get over it,” you said. “He’s just a little embarrassed. I’ll talk to him.”

Courtney nodded, wishing you luck. 

You turned on your heel, looking at your ridiculous boyfriend and giving him a smile. You chuckled, sitting in your seat and sliding over to him and forcing his seat to spin so that you could slot your knees between his. You took his hands in yours, pressing soft kisses to his knuckles. Instantly, he relaxed, unclenching his fists and lowering his shoulders. 

“You know that you have nothing to be afraid of, right? I love you and only you,” you reassured him. “Ten years and counting, remember?” 

You pressed another kiss to his knuckles. This was nothing new, the extremely light PDA at work. Everyone had gotten used to the two of you by now, not caring as long as you weren’t fucking on the desks. 

“Yeah,” he said, distracted. His thumb traced over where your ring finger met your palm. It wasn’t difficult for you to guess what he was thinking about. You waited for him to say the words, which you would inevitably reject. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry him because you did. It was just that growing up around parents that fought all the time made you wary of the idea of marriage. At the beginning, your parents had been the most in-love people you’d ever known but as the years drug on, you watched as their “love” disappeared into booze for your mom and other women for your dad. 

But sitting here in the office setting, as mundane and most likely cliches as it sounded, you wouldn’t hate the idea of marrying him. He reminded you of everything your parents weren’t and he managed to remind you every day that the two of you were not your parents and never would be, though the fear lingered. 

“You’ve got work to do, lover boy,” you teased, pressing one last kiss to his knuckles. “And I have a video of your dorky ass to edit.” 

Shayne sighed so lightly that if the printer had been running copies you would have missed it. But he let you get back to work, this wasn’t the time or place for that kind of conversation. 

“I love you,” you reminded him. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“I love you, too.”

TAGLISTS

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@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​ @lemirabitur​ @grandmascottlang​ @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​

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@andreasworlsboring101 

[buckthegrump]

Are You Leaving My Love Behind?

Summary: At lot can happen in five years, but even more can happen in a few months.

Warnings:  Angst, pregnancy stuff, mentions of violence, fluff kind of

Word Count: 4.9k

A/n: this is for @wkemeup​ ‘s writing challenge my prompt was “please tell me that isn’t your blood” sorry it took me so fucking long to get it out

2018

“Ok, we’re gonna start trying,” Charlie smiled as his wife, Y/n, who smiled back at him. 

“I think now’s the best time, I mean we’re never gonna be really ready, ya know?” She lifted her wine glass.

He lifted his glass to tap against hers. But they never touched. Just as they were about to, Y/n’s fell to the ground and shattered. Charlie turned his attention to the mess she had made while Y/n stared at her hand in horror. He looked back up at her with a question on his lips that was never fully formed.

Painfully slow, they watched as Y/n’s body slowly turned gray then to dust. She looked her husband in the eye.

“I love you,” was the last thing she said before she disappeared. 

Charlie sat on the couch watching as the dust particles of his wife slowly fell to the ground.

2023

Y/n was sitting on a couch in a house. Her house, but this wasn’t her couch. The room looked like her living room, but there was something off about it, something different that she couldn’t identify. And it was more than just the fact that the couch was different.

“Y/n?” A familiar voice filled her eyes and relief washed over her. That is until she turned around.

Charlie was standing there with another woman. He looked different, older, tired, still hot though. But it was the other woman that stood there with him that had most of Y/n’s attention. It was the possessive hand on his bicep, and more so the blinding ring on her left hand.

“Charlie,” Y/n whispered, unable to hide the fear and hurt in her voice, “Who’s this?”

* * *

Y/n stared at the snack table in front of her. All the donuts had been sliced in half despite the fact that it was a full dozen and there weren’t even six people in the room. And she highly doubted that anyone else would join, her therapist said that it was a smaller group. 

Maybe it was so small because not many people knew about it. It didn’t help that it was in the gym of an old high school that was not only creepy but a little hard to find. Or maybe people were scared off by the superheroes that were sitting around the circle. Even though there were only two of them.

Y/n grabbed two whole donuts silently daring anyone to say anything about it and sat down in a chair. The two superheroes and one civilian sat next to each other and the leader of this grief group sat in a chair that was meant to be the head of the circle. While Y/n had secluded herself from the group.

“I think now is a good time to start,” the leader spoke, “My name is Sarah, for those of us who are new.”

Sarah very pointedly looked at Y/n who was still chowing down on her donuts trying to turn invisible.

“Anyway -” Sarah then made everyone introduce themselves and share something.

Sam and Bucky were here because they’d lost their friends. Y/n couldn’t tell if they were talking about Tony Stark or Steve Rogers, or maybe both. Maddi was there because while she’d just given birth when she got dusted and came back to a child that she didn’t know, which made Y/n feel stupid for her thing.

So she told them that she was just having trouble adjusting to life after ‘the blip’. Which wasn’t a complete lie but at this point, she was much more interested in finishing her donut.

Y/n didn’t talk much the rest of the time and let the others speak and work through their problems.

“Y/n,” Sarah addressed her at the end of group, “Are you sure you don’t have anything you’d like to share?”

“Not this week,” she answered.

And for a few weeks, she would answer the same way and Sarah would give her the same look. As time went on a few more people joined the group until there were a whopping eight people there, not including Sarah. (Still not enough for them to have any real reason to cut the donuts in half, in Y/n’s correct opinion.) Y/n hadn’t really bothered to commit their names to her memory but it’s not like she ever talked to anyone outside of this.

She hadn’t planned on saying much in group at all, she only came because her therapist said that if she continued to come he would bring some of his wife’s baking to one of their sessions. And she really wanted some cookies.

But, earlier that day she’d sat in an office across from Charlie. 

“Y/n, anything you’d like to share this week?” Sarah asked as she did every week. She was clearly expecting Y/n to say no.

“I shouldn’t hate Daniella, I know logically I shouldn’t but apparently the smart part of my brain is much smaller than the stupid part,” Y/n said. She almost left it at that just to get it off her chest.

“Why?” Bucky asked. Y/n and he locked eyes for a moment that seemed way too long for the setting there were in before she answered him.

“Why what?”

“Why do you hate her?”

Y/n laughed humorlessly. “She’s living the life I want. I know how that sounds but it’s true. I was dusted out of existence and when I came back apparently it was five years later and my husband, who watched me die, had fallen in love with someone else and asked her to marry him. So you can imagine his shock when I reappeared on the sofa in the middle of the afternoon as if nothing had happened.

“He still wants to marry her,” she could feel the lump in her throat begin to rise and did nothing to stop the tears from flowing. “So he asked for a divorce. And I know that it was five years ago and he’s changed, he had to live through my death. But he didn’t. . . I didn’t change. It’s only been four months since I’ve been back and he didn’t even try.”

She paused but no one spoke. They all sat there staring at her.

“And I know that my problems aren’t half as bad as some of the shit that y’all are going through but I just -” Y/n tried to swallow but it was hard. “Why the fuck does she get my life?”

* * *

Y/n was sitting in a forgotten hallway of the school, yes with the box of donuts in her lap. But she had lost her appetite.

“Ya know it’s considered rude to run off with the donuts.” She looked up to find Bucky Barnes standing next to her. She opened the box and offered him some. He grabbed one of the jelly-filled ones and sat down next to her. 

“We were going to try for kids, probably adopt some too, he really loved kids.”

“It’s really shitty of him for doing that to you,” he whispered.

“I lied, he didn’t ask for the divorce,” she admitted, “I did.”

“Why?”

“For the first month, I lived with them. I watched them interact and I -” she paused to compose herself. “He used to look at me like that. It’s not his fault I’m still living in the past. For a week I thought I was pregnant, and I was so relieved when I wasn’t. I don’t think I would’ve kept it if I had been.”

Bucky didn’t say anything and he hadn’t taken a bite of his donut yet.

“Sorry, group is over I shouldn’t be unloading all my bullshit on you.” She began to stand.

“It’s fine I don’t mind,” he told her.

“You’re very sweet, but it’s not like we’re friends or anything,” she smiled down at him.

He stumbled to his feet before she could walk away. “We could be.”

She looked at him expecting to see pity behind his gaze but she found none. What she did find was something that she couldn’t put a name to.

“Ok,” she agreed, “I don’t have many friends these days. Walk with me.”

So he walked her ‘home’ which was more of a temporary living situation. She had always been a babbler, it was something that Charlie constantly said would get her in trouble sooner rather than later. That day had finally arrived.

“I was sorry to hear about your friends,” she said as they walked.

“Thanks,” he said with a shrug.

“Do you miss him? Captain America, I mean. What do I even call him? Captain America seems so formal but calling him Steve Rogers seems too casual ya know?”

“It’s complicated. It’s not like we were dating or anything but I thought -” the nearly forgotten donut in his hand made its way to his mouth. Y/n walked silently waiting for him to continue his thought or change the subject. “I just assumed that we were something different.”

“Were you in love with him?” She blurted and he nearly choked on his bite. “You don’t have to answer that. In fact, forget I even asked.”

“I think so,” he answered once he was able to speak. “But clearly he didn’t feel the same way about me.”

“Why do you say that?”

Bucky chuckled. “That’s a little harder to explain.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” she said as she stopped in front of a dingy motel. “This is me.”

Bucky’s brows knitted together and his lip twinged in disgust. “You live here?”

“Well, I couldn’t really continue living with the happy couple, could I?” She asked. “Good night, Bucky. I’ll see ya next week.”

* * *

Charlie was talking about something to do with the divorce, but Y/n wasn’t really listening.

“Y/n,” he said pulling her from her daydreaming.

“Huh?”

“I know when you’re spacing out, is everything ok?”

Y/n let out a quiet sigh. What a loaded question. But the short answer was no. Of course, she wasn’t ok. How could she be? She was about to get a divorce that she wasn’t sure she wanted. Sure, she was the one who asked for it, but the look of relief on Charlie’s face when she suggested it-

If she hadn’t had said it when she did, sooner or later, he would’ve.

The paper was just sitting there on the table in front of her. The legal side of the divorce was pretty straight forward with a little leeway for Y/n after being gone for five years.

“I’m fine, Charlie,” she said. After taking a deep breath she flipped the pen in her fingers and signed the paper without a second thought. “I’ll see ya around, Ace.”

“Y/n,” he said.

Before he could get another word out she rushed through the doors. She walked faster than she needed to away from the building once she was outside knowing that Charlie would probably try to follow her. Well, at least her Charlie from five years ago would’ve. 

She wandered around the city for hours until she found herself outside the high school, that had recently reopened, where the grief group was held. It wasn’t until she saw Sam and Bucky walking towards her that she remembered that it was Thursday and they did have group today. She was also painfully aware of the tear streaks that stained her cheeks.

Sam made a b-line for the high school entrance, while Bucky walked right to her.

“What’s wrong?” He started to lift his had but put it back down at his side thinking better of it. She began to shake her head ready to deny that anything was wrong. “Don’t bother lying to me.”

“I signed the divorce papers today,” she whispered.

Bucky pressed his lips into a thin line. “Do you wanna skip today?” She nodded and he gave her a small smile. “C’mon, I know of something way more fun than dealing with our emotions.”

* * *

Y/n was still crying but now they were tears from laughing too hard. Bucky had fallen on his ass for the seventh time in two minutes. One would think that a highly trained assassin would know how to stay upright on a pair of roller skates.

“Who knew that all they need to defeat the great Bucky Barnes is a pair of skates,” she giggled as she rolled over to him to help him up.

“Keep laughing,” he grunted, “I’m about to get the hang of this stupid thing and lap you so hard.”

“Oh, I don’t think so baby blue.” She offered him his hand, which he gladly took. But once he was standing he instantly almost fell again but Y/n caught him helping him balance. He was gripping her for arms as he steadied himself. He looked up from his feet to her face.

The lights of the roller rink dimmed and the disco ball was the only thing illuminating the floor, some 80’s love ballad started playing, and the rest of the people skating around them ceased to exist for a brief moment.

All the pain that she’d been feeling for that past few months, every thought of Daniella and Charlie, everything, except for Bucky, melted away. And for one glorious second, her heart wasn’t heavy.

But then the moment was over and it all came rushing back hitting her like a semi-truck barreling down the highway. 

She smiled and gently prompted Bucky to stand up on his own.

“Here’s your chance hot-shot, get the hang of it and lap me.” She stuck her tongue out at him and skated away from him.

Once she was facing away from him her smile dropped. If she had stayed in that position even a half-second longer she would’ve done something stupid. Like, try to kiss him, which only could’ve ended with him rejecting her. For a multitude of reasons on his end, and she just wasn’t ready for something like that. 

The universe was clearly playing some sort of cosmic joke on her.

About an hour later they were walking down the street in the general direction of Y/n’s temporary home but she almost didn’t want the night to end.

“Thank you,” she said bumping her shoulder against Bucky’s as they walked. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted to be friends.”

She looked down at the ground smiling. He shouldn’t be affecting her like this, she’d just signed divorce papers for fuck’s sake.

“Give me your phone,” she said when they stopped in front of the motel. He handed it over to her unlocked and she put her number in and handed it back. “There, now we don’t have to wait a week to talk to each other.”

“You might regret this choice,” he teased then bid her goodbye.

Later that night she got a text from Bucky. It was some video with the caption ‘I thought you would find this funny.’

* * *

A few days after she signed the papers, she found an apartment that was move-in ready. Things were finally starting to look up for her. She wanted to text Charlie and just talk to him but she restrained herself.

Instead, she distracted herself with social media, and apparently she hadn’t unfollowed her ex-husband because the first thing she saw on Instagram was a picture of him and Daniella. It was obviously some of their engagement photos, and whatever good feelings she’d had, flew out the window.

On a whim, she texted the only friend she had these days. She wasn’t expecting anything to come from it, but about forty-five minutes later Bucky was knocking at her door.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she opened the door.

“I brought treats,” he said walking in not waiting for her to invite him in. He set the brown bag down on her coffee table and sat on her couch. “And there are a bunch of movies that I’ve been told are classics that I haven’t seen yet, so help me catch up.”

She smiled at him as she sat next to him on the couch and dug into the bag of snacks.

They were halfway through the first movie when she was hit with a sudden wave of emotions and she started crying.

“Woah,” Bucky whispered putting down his drink on the coffee table. He turned to her. “What’s wrong?”

“He’s my best friend, or he was,” she wiped the tears off her cheeks, “Any time someone talks about getting a divorce they don’t talk about that you lose your best friend. I saw something stupid on the street a few days ago like right after the signing and I wanted to text Charlie so bad. And I had the message all typed and ready to go when I remembered that I can’t do that anymore.

“Not to mention that all my friends pre-blip weren’t blipped away and now they have all moved on and I’m still in the same place I was five years ago.” She looked down at her hands and picked at her thumbnail. “I just - all my life I was afraid of being left behind, and now I have been.”

“Well, I like stupid things,” Bucky said, “so next time you can text me. We’re friends, and I know what it’s like to be left behind.”

* * *

As the week went on Y/n realized a pattern in her behavior. Any time that she found something funny or just wanted to talk to anyone, Bucky was her first choice. She had other friends but Bucky had quickly become her best friend.

Thursday came faster than she expected it to. And for once, she was actually looking forward to it. 

That is until she opened Instagram. Charlie had posted again, and it used to be that he would post maybe once every month if that. So him posting again so soon after the most recent one, surprised her a little, but, she could handle Charlie and Daniella being cute in one post.

She was sitting in the chair in the circle while the rest of the patrons trickled in, and that’s when she finally really looked at the post and her heart nearly stopped.

“Alrighty,” Sarah said calling attention to herself, “Let’s begin. Does anyone want to start us off?”

Everyone was silent, Y/n sent a pleading look to Bucky who was across the circle from her. She knew that if no one else started it Sarah would -

“Y/n,” Sarah said as if she could read minds, “We missed you last week. Anything you’d like to share?”

Y/n snorted. “Two seconds before I was turned to dust, my husband, well ex-husband, and I had just decided to start trying for a kid. And now we’re divorced, and his new fiancee is pregnant. Or at least they just announced it, which means they’ve known for a few months. But I’m just trying to figure out what the fuck I did in a past life to warrant this kind of bullshit. Ya know?”

“Well,” Sarah started but Y/n wasn’t paying attention. All of her attention was on Bucky who was staring back at her. His gaze was unwavering. He offered her a small smile, which she returned.

At that moment, something deep inside her sparked back to life. She knew the feeling, she hadn’t had these feelings since the beginning of her relationship with Charlie. She had this feeling of almost despair with the knowledge that she could easily fall in love with this man if she wasn’t careful.

And Y/n was one clumsy fucker.

* * *

Y/n would like to say that she held out for months before she fell in love with Bucky.

It would be a lie, but ya gotta lie to yourself sometimes.

Three weeks had passed since Charlie’s announcement and Y/n hadn’t thought about it in a long time.

No, instead she was spending most of her free time acting like a high school girl who had a crush. When she was in bed at night texting him she would be grinning like an idiot. Or anytime he called her, her heart would skip several beats.

It even got to the point where one time at the support group he said something to her that was mildly flirtatious and her palms started full-on sweating. It was getting ridiculous.

Crushes weren’t supposed to feel like that as an adult. The butterflies in her stomach were supposed to be subdued, her heart wasn’t supposed to completely stop every time he so much as smiled at her. And yet, that’s exactly what she was going through.

* * *

There was one Thursday when Bucky wasn’t at group. He had sent her a text telling her as much, but she’d hoped that he was lying and was going to show up anyway. Because yes, they were friends and hung out outside of Thursday nights, but with the group, they got to see each other every week.

But then she didn’t hear from him for a few days, then a whole week. Which wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, people get busy Y/n understood that. She didn’t start to worry until another Thursday came and went without a word from Bucky.

Y/n was pacing her living room after group and was three seconds from calling Bucky and then the police if he didn’t respond. Then there was a knock at her door.

She opened it to find a beaten and bloodied Bucky standing at her door, and her heart dropped to her stomach.

“I forgot to text,” he whispered, but she was no longer worried about the lack of contact for the past week.

“Please tell me that isn’t your blood,” she whispered.

He gave her finger guns and the weakest smile. “I can’t.”

“Jesus, Barnes,” she pulled him in and closed the door behind him.

Y/n led him to the bathroom and sat him down on the toilet.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked as he watched her sort through everything in the bathroom looking for the supplies she needed.

She glanced at him sideways before wetting a washcloth with warm water. As gently as she could, she began to wipe the blood away from his face. Y/n focused solely on his blood-stained cheeks, but she could feel Bucky’s gaze glued to her.

“Ya know that I’ll take a shower and be fine, I’m a super soldier I don’t need you to patch me up,” he said softly sending a shiver down her spine.

“Do you want me to stop?” She started to pull her hand away but Bucky caught her wrist in his hand.

“No.”

Y/n continued silently cleaning off his face, he hissed when she found a cut on his left cheekbone. She mumbled an apology but then found yet another half-healed gash on his face.

“Is this punishment for not telling you I had to go on a mission?” He teased.

“Is that where you were?” She raised an eyebrow at him and he smiled sheepishly. “Well, now the lack of communication during the week makes sense. But what I still don’t understand is why you decided to forego a shower before showing up at my doorstep battered and bruised? Especially if you knew that you would heal up in a few hours. You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll tell you what’s going on next time. And shower before I come over.”

“As long as you come over,” Y/n shrugged.

* * *

Sam was sitting on the couch when Bucky returned to their shared apartment. The grin on Sam’s face didn’t go unnoticed but Bucky was trying to ignore him.

“You didn’t even bother to shower before you went over to her place,” Sam unnecessarily pointed out. “How bad do you have it?”

“I do not have it bad-”

Sam interrupted him with a laugh. “Barnes, she got you acting like a damned fool. And don’t think I haven’t seen the way that you stare longingly at her during support group. And the stupid smile you have on your face anytime she texts you. Not to mention -”

“Ok, ok, I get it. You know I like her.”

Sam stared at him in disbelief. “That’s what you’re calling it? ‘Liking her’? Boy, I got some news for you.”

Bucky sighed and sunk into the couch next to Sam. “I can’t be in love with her Sam. We only met a few months ago. Not to mention she just got a divorce.”

“Well, you were apart of two different fights for the universe with no break in between. Your concept of time and the time you have left on earth has been altered. The timeline that you normally would’ve given yourself doesn’t really apply anymore. And if I’m right, which I am, you’re probably not gonna tell her that you’re in love with her for about 80 years after being on ice for 70 of those years, fighting a war or two and then leaving your best friends with little to no warning. Then somehow making your way back to your friends only to, I don’t know, take off your arm and saying ‘you’re in charge now’,” Sam said only mildly bitterly.

Bucky snorted.

“If it’s any consolation,” Sam said after a moment, “I think that she could be falling in love with you too.”

* * *

Y/n was sitting on Bucky’s couch. It was only the second time she’d been to his apartment. And she was trying to relax but she was trying not to think about the fact that she was falling in love with Bucky.

It was the fact that she was already so enamored by him and she’d just gotten a divorce.  She felt guilty. For what? Having feelings? Moving on with her life?

“Steve isn’t dead,” Bucky blurted.

Y/n looked at him, eyes wide. “What?”

“Rogers,” Bucky continued. “He didn’t die in the same fight as Tony. He went back in time to be with Peggy, which is his own choice. But it’s like every time I got him back I lost him again, and this time he chose it. I don’t know, I just feel like I’m wanted.”

“I want you,” she said. His eyes were wide when he looked at her. “No, that’s not really what I meant but like -”

“I get what you mean,” he said then whispered, “I think.”

“Do you want pizza?” Y/n asked getting off the sofa.

“We’re not gonna talk about how you want me? Specifically for my body,” Bucky got up and followed her.

“I’ve decided to kill you and then you would be a joke in your community. A supersoldier, taken out by little old me, a human. You have a metal arm, Barnes, why was I able to take you down?”

“Well, I hope that you do well in your life after you murder me in cold blood.”

“It wouldn’t be in cold blood, besides I don’t even know how to throw a proper punch,” she shrugged.

Bucky chuckled. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to fight.”

Y/n looked down at the floor with the hint of a smile on her face. “Ok, thanks.”

“But do you actually want pizza?” He asked as he grabbed his phone. Y/n looked up from the ground at him. “Because I could order some and then have Sam pick it up on his way home.”

“Pizza sounds good.”

“Great.” Bucky unlocked his phone and started typing away. 

“You’d really teach me how to fight? I’m not coordinated at all, but I’m great at giving people bruises, so prepared for that,” she gave him finger guns.

Bucky chuckled. “Ok, Sam is gonna pick up the pizza and -”

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Y/n blurted.

She and Bucky stared at each other silently for a moment. Y/n let out a noise that was halfway between a squeal and a laugh before running towards the door. Bucky grabbed her arm before she got far.

“It’s not fair to tell me something like that and then run away,” he said softly.

“But what if you judge me?”

“I have no place to judge you.”

“I shouldn’t have blurted it at all because now you might feel pressured to say something you don’t mean. Listen if you don’t feel the same way and want to just say friends just tell me right now, I can handle it.”

Bucky tilted his head to the side. “What makes you think I don’t feel the same?”

A beat. 

The tension between them got so intense Y/n almost couldn’t stand it. For a brief moment, she thanked her lucky stars that Sam wasn’t in the apartment because he definitely would’ve made a joke that ruined the moment.

“Do you wanna kiss me as much as I wanna kiss you?” Bucky asked.

“No,” she said and his face twisted in confusion, “Clearly I want to do it more.”

She cupped his cheeks with her hands pulling him into her. Once their lips met every worry she had about falling in love again went out the window. All the guilt and anxiety that had been building up over the last few months was gone. 

The door to the apartment opened and in walked Sam. Bucky and Y/n were still in each other's arms and they stared at Sam who stared back blankly.

“Shit, the pizza,” was all he said before he walked right back out the door.

“Just so there’s no confusion, I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you too,” Bucky said.

“Good because that would’ve been awkward,” Y/n chuckled.