#he may or may not have hugged you so hard you heard an audible crack but wow does your back feel amazing now

[a-snowpoff]

Hi...it have been a particularly stressful day today and....I just need some Papyrus content in this moment?

Can I have an hug?

NYEH HEH HEH! LOOK HUMAN! A CONVENIENTLY SHAPED HUG! NYEH!

[taintedcigs]

For your birthday event, may I request the prompt: “don’t talk. just get the fuck over here and hold me." for sad Eddie who just wants some comfort after a hard time (argument, nightmare, fight, whatever!)

Thank you so much and happy birthday!! ❤️❤️

safe place.

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 800+

warnings: nothing rlly, hurt/comfort, reader comforting eddie after a bad day, anndd just some fluff! a little kiss, and VV cheesy!

a/n: yes ofc !! thank u!!! also sorry love i was very slow at writing this week so i got to this request now and tried to squeeze in a little short blurb i hope u like it and i did it justice <33

You couldn't even tell how the argument started, Eddie had a shit day, truly, the worst day, it started with his dad, reaching out to him from prison, he tried to swallow the lump in his throat when he heard his voice, shock quickly turning into anger as he slammed the phone to its place without answering his dad's question.

Then he made some stupid mistake at work after his mind was filled with the phone call, thanks to his dad, a customer complained about him, and his manager almost fired him, he spent the rest of the day with his jaw clenched, kicking the nearest trash can while he was at break.

And while you certainly didn't have as much of a bad day as Eddie had, you were tired when you came home from work, so tired that you didn't put up with Eddie's attitude, and it quickly led to a screaming match. Eddie shut the bedroom door in your face as you yelled at him frustrated.

An hour had passed when the two of you finally realized how stupid you were acting, when the anger had worn off all Eddie wanted was you by his side, murmuring sweet nothings into his ear as you gave him a warming hug. Your feet picked you up towards the bedroom before you realized, head hung low as you slowly opened the door to the bedroom.

Eddie's head quickly cocked at the noise, he was itching, dying to have you by his side the moment he shut that door, he didn't mean to be so harsh and shun you out, he wanted to tell you all about his shit day, while you played with his curls.

"Honey?" His words hung in the air, and the silence for the first time was comforting, you wanted to give him a smile, but your lips were too wobbly to do so, but you don't let your tears escape, you know Eddie needs you, and you want to be the one to comfort him this time.

"'m sorry." Your voice was meek, barely audible, but just the sight of you was enough for him, his heart filled with warmth, and he can almost feel the sadness he suppressed all day, bubbling up at the surface.

"No-no need to be sorry." His voice was on the edge of cracking and it made your stomach churn, hearing him so off made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Don't talk, please. Just get over here and hold me?" He implored, it wasn't even a question, he needed it, he needed you.

"Eds..." You murmured as you hurried to his side, not hesitating as you held onto him, and Eddie felt warm, like he was home, like everything is going to be okay.

Your hands were slow as they traced his face, gentle as if you were afraid of hurting him, and Eddie doesn't notice as he reluctantly met your eyes, licking his lips before he spoke up. "He... he called me." He murmurs, you don't dare to ask who called him, you knew by the crack in his voice that he was talking about his father.

He barely noticed that his fists had turned white from how hard he was clenching them, something he did when he felt anxious and angry, and you were quick to take his hands into yours, pressing tender kisses, letting him know it was okay.

"He-he fucking had the audacity to call me, and ask me for a favor." His voice was raised desperately, and your hold on him was so comfortable that a wave of emotions rushed over him, and every little feeling he had been suppressing all day tipped over, he started sobbing before he realized, mumbling curse words as he squeezed onto your shirt tighter.

You comforted him as you mumbled 'it's okay' and 'ssshh' to his hair, pressing soft kisses as you gently held onto him tighter, not letting go until Eddie looked up at you, almost in awe.

You were perfect, so fucking perfect, and he couldn't help but be grateful that you were there, no matter how much he thought he didn't deserve you, you were his safe place. Something he lacked in his childhood due to his father being a criminal and an asshole.

But now he had you.

You were quick to cup his face with both hands, a warm smile etched onto your lips as you leaned forward to give him a kiss, and Eddie swore all was well and that his worries had disappeared, losing himself in your soft lips.

"I… I’m sorry.” He avoided your gaze, “and thank you." He murmured against your skin, taking all of you in.

“I’m always here for you, Eds. Always.” You gripped his chin to face you, holding a sympathetic gaze as you peppered his face with kisses, causing Eddie’s lips to stretch into a mellow smile.

The night wasted away while you held onto him, whispering sweet nothings into the air until exhaustion washed over you both and the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms.

[ikaishere]

If you're doing prompts at the moment, may I request some Warriors and Wind fluff? Maybe Warriors comforting Wind after a nightmare?

I'm obsessed with their brotherly dynamic and honestly love them so much.

anon you made me so obsessed with it you are not only getting art, but a short drabble to go with it too!! i want to very dearly thank @arecaceae175 once again for proofreading it for me, giving me feedback, and helping with some language difficulties!! ****

*** The last thing Wind remembered was falling asleep on the grass, the air annoyingly humid, in a way that makes your skin feel uncomfortable and causes your hair to tangle. He laid down in between Sky and Time, with the eldest on his right, and the Skyloftian on his left. Surprisingly nothing interrupted him while giving in to his tiredness and allowing rest - not the chirping of birds, not the unusually hot temperature at such late hours, not the sound of Warriors cracking his knuckles as he sat on watch. He liked those nights. Despite the conditions not being perfect, he could fall asleep, safe and sound, surrounded by people he could, and would, trust with his life. The next thing Wind noticed, was his trembling body, and the lack of air in his lungs. It felt too heavy to breathe it in, and he found himself gasping for it. His hands were shaking, and his chest felt tight. He hated those nights, he decided now. He would much rather feel the unease since the beginning, not let himself fall for the false sense of security, of maybe having finally run away from the nightmares hunting him each night. Those nights made him feel weaker than ever. They made him want to scream at the top of his lungs, run until his legs couldn’t go longer anymore. Made him want to fall asleep and wake up as if nothing ever happened, spending his day trying to get rid of the fear and anxiety, keeping up his best act. They made him want to hide just how vulnerable he could be at times, because they all already saw him as such. Someone young, inexperienced, incapable. “Sailor.” A soft voice broke him out of his thoughts, and his head whipped to the side. He felt a hand rubbing his back, and he tensed up at the sensation. “Bad dream, huh?” Wind only nodded, turning his face away once again. Tears were running down his face, unnoticed, probably ever since he woke up. He woke up, with their Captain on the night watch, in tears and shambles. What a truly, perfect, night. “Want to talk about it?” Warriors still tried, but he got a quick response - frantic shaking of Wind’s head as if the vision of having to talk about something he did not even remember scared him more than Ganon himself. “Alright. It’s… It’s alright.” he whispered, trying to do the best job he could at comforting. The silence was only ever interrupted by Wind’s sobbing or Warriors’ silent hummus. In their slow and quiet moment, they managed to shift their position - the sailor sitting in their Captain's lap, being firmly held by him. “Let it out, Wind. Go on, kid, you’re brave. You are with us, safe here. Always. Promise.” they continued. “I love you, sailor” he mumbled finally, voice only barely audible. Such important, fragile words. Wind heard them from his sister a lot, even from Tetra once! He heard it from his grandma, he heard Time and Malon share those three words. He heard Sky talk about his love for Sun, and Ravio talk about his love for Legend (silent, through the doors of his, or well, their, bedroom. Wind eavesdropped that once on accident. but that was a story for another day.). Yet he never expected to hear it from Warriors. It felt warm, it felt like home. It felt as if Captain’s hands around his body were rays of the sun itself hugging it, welcoming him in its arms. It felt like early mornings and birds’ songs. Like the light of the stars on a night sky and like a lullaby you heard as a child. It felt familiar, yet so strange. Felt like family in a way that was hard to understand. “I love you too.” And most importantly, it felt like belonging.

[baphymittens]

Sitting on the antique sofa she does her best to listen to the devil seated beside her as he continues with his explanation. Though he's gotten very good at simplifying things for her, it's still hard for her to understand Demiurge as he goes on about the complex plans and strategies of the possible paths Nazerick may take going forward with the war.

The demon's pleasant voice continues to drone on with his methods and reasoning, and though she loves the sound, her mind can’t help but wonder elsewhere. To her next meal, possibly taking a hot bubble bath later, or to the metal tail that suddenly waves into her vision when Demiurge leans forward to grab another file from the low table before them.

It's without thinking that she grabs said tail, startling the man it belongs to.

“M-my lady?” The devil jolts, standing straight as he looks to his superior with an expression of obvious confusion and speaks with a slight crack in his voice. Satisfied with her catch, she pulls Demiurge down by his tail, so he is again seated next to her. He squirms a bit as she looks over the metal appendage.

“My lady, what are you-” She doesn't catch the rest, more focused on the prize between her hands and the thoughts pertaining to it.

“It looks so shiny and smooth to the touch…”

Gently she slides her fingertips over the metallic surface, rather surprised at the coolness considering the type of demon is attached to.

“I thought it would be warmer.”

“Aah!” The devil's reaction is immediate, stiffening from head to toe as his face and ears flush a shade darker.

Remembering the thing in her hands is actually attached to another person she glances at Demiurge and sees his reaction. “Huh, that's more of a reaction than I expected. I kinda assumed you wouldn't be able to feel anything with this being metal and all.” She returns her attention back to his appendage again, seemingly not caring about the effect she’s having on him.

Doing his best to control his breathing Demiurge attempts to speak. “I-erm certain areas can be sensitive, yes. It is a part of me after all.” He wets his lips with his tongue before digging his claws into his thighs, attempting to keep composure and not daring to move. A Supreme Being has the right to do whatever they please with him of course.

 “But if i may ask…why are you-”

“Maybe it's a type of exoskeleton instead of armor and that's why he can feel it?”

His words fail him as she continues her touching. Slowly running her hands over the smooth surface, starting from the base of his tail and stopping where his poisonous spikes form. The Devil squirms and shudders before moving a hand to quickly cover his mouth, a muffled noise coming from him as his whole-body shivering and causing his tail to twist and writhe in her hands. 

At that she makes sure to hug the guardian's tail against her person and unintentionally causes her soft breast to squish against it, which only sets him off further as an audible moan is heard coming from him. She only pauses for a moment at hearing the sound before looking at him with unreadable eyes as she rubs the side of her cheek against his imp-like tail.

The devil winces and tries to cover the front of his suit pants with a nearby throw pillow but it's too late. Her having already seen the rather large bulge and obvious wet spot staining the fabric. 

“So…I’m guessing this kind of thing feels good to you then?”

Demiurge struggles with his words. “No...well, erm…yes” Something akin to a whimper comes from him. “Please forgive me, I can't...”

“Hmm, just the rubbing gets him like this. What about stroking?”

The mighty devil is powerless as she begins to stroke a hand up and down the length of the appendage, keeping her other arm wrapped around it to keep his tail securely against her and her soft body. No longer bothering to hide the noise, he lets out a loud moan. Both his hands gripping at the couch as he knows he would grab her otherwise. 

Squeezing his crystalline eyes shut his erection becomes painfully worse. From his striped pants she can see it thick and twitching as it strains against the fabric, the wet spot spreading more on the cloth as her stroking doesn't ceast.

Back and forth she continues, letting out a pleased hum as she rubs her cheek against the part of his tail trapped against her. “It's so Smooth Demi…and thick…” A pleasant musk begins to invade her nose as she speaks those words, and then a sudden groan from the demon as his fangs sink into his bottom lip, causing small drops of blood to drip.

Curling into himself slightly the wet patch becomes much worse as the devil's seed seeps through his pants as he finally cums. Ignoring his pitiful whine doesn't let up on her stroking of him, speeding up until Demiurge is slack against the sofa and breathing rather hard. “Well, that's interesting…” Her expression stays blank as she looks from his soiled crotch and then to his face.

“Might be fun to see where else you're sensitive, actually…”

[desiredmalfoy]

Until The End

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Universe: Voldermort lives in this

Warning: Curse words were used (not too many). Not really edited, work has tired me out. :(  I’ll edit as I reread again. 

Masterlist

Draco and the reader love each other. But will she do anything possible to be with him? Even going against everything she was taught?

You didn’t know where your parents were. You didn’t know where any of your friends were. Your lungs were beginning to burn as you continued to run down the halls of Hogwarts. You had been running for what seemed like forever. Just running to get away from the chaos that engulfed the school. You were secretly hoping that you would run into Draco. You hadn’t seen him in a couple of months. He had broken up with you without much warning. When you had gone after him for an explanation, he had tried to push you away. 

-----

“Please understand”, Draco raised his voice slightly causing you to flinch a bit. It was rare for him to ever raise his voice around you. 

“I want to understand but you need to tell me what’s wrong.” You cried out as tears were now staining your cheeks. 

“I can’t be around you. I can’t risk him knowing how I feel about you and hurting you!”

“He won’t hurt me Draco! I can protect myself.”

“He will! You know he will. Please (y/n), for me, stay away for now.” Now he was crying, this stunned you as you had never seen him cry. Draco Malfoy simply did not cry. 

“Promise me we’ll be together after this, no matter what”, you reached for his face to wipe away the tears that were falling down his face. Your thumbs brushing away the tears.

“I promise”, his voice cracked. He kissed you one last time before you would be together again.

------

Still running, you heard a voice calling you from behind. You knew it was him. It was Draco. It was him. You stopped abruptly and turned around to face him. There he was in front of you again. Thinner and face features more sunken in, but he was alive and that’s all that mattered.

“I need you to come with me. I need you to be with me when this all ends.” He embraced you tightly in the middle of the hallway. He pulled away slightly to look at you more clearly. Draco ran his hand through your hair affectionately. 

“What do you mean Draco?” Your voice is barely audible at this point. He held your face in his hands, all you could feel were their softness.

“I meant it. Come with me. This war won’t end the way you want it.”

“What…”

“Potter will be dead if he already isn’t. He’s walking into a trap.” He was looking directly at you as he spoke. “This is ending in his favor. Darling come with me please.”

“We promised that after all this was over, we’d be together again.” He was now pleading with you. He let go of your face and ran his shaky hand through his hair. His hair now matted and dirty compared to his usual pristine image. 

Draco was running out of time. Before they came. He was running out of fucking time. 

“Please I just want to keep you safe.” His eyes now had tears coating them as he was practically begging you. “I love you so much darling.”

You didn’t know what to think or what to even say. Your ears began to ring as the seconds ticked by painfully slowly. Time was nothing but a joke, stifling truly. But you did know how you felt. You knew that you loved the man in front of you. He was everything to you. His love felt suffocating but in such a good way. You could never get enough of him. Of his touch, his hands that roamed every surface of your body. Every imperfection, every inch, no part of your body left untouched. His love, it was the thing you craved the most every day. The one thing you would never get enough of in your lifetime. You felt so damn selfish knowing you would never get enough of his love to completely satisfy you. But going with him meant leaving your parents behind. It meant leaving behind your friends. It meant leaving behind your life that you had lived up until now.

“I want you to stay with me. No, I need you to stay with me.”

“And I’ll always stay by your side.” You walked over to where he was pacing. He stopped pacing when he heard you and went straight towards you. He roughly grabbed your face and kissed you with such desperation. It was as if you would be torn from his side any second.

You pulled away in an attempt to catch your breath, your chest still heaving with every breath you took. Your fate had just changed in a matter of seconds.  “I could care less on what side I am as long as I’m with you.”

Draco made a promise once, that you would always be safe. 

And he meant every single word of it. Now, he had you by his side forever.

------

You knew it was coming, you knew what was going to occur. Harry Potter was dead.

With the death of Harry Potter came the death of all that was good. The fire that once burned deep within those who wanted justice to prevail had now been extinguished. Voldermort called for those to join him to do so now or face their fate. You knew what you were about to do.

Draco looked down at you once more before making his way toward his parents who stood on the other side. Beckoning him to join them now. He needed to be reassured you would be joining him as well. You held his hand tightly to show him you wouldn’t let him go alone. 

He took a step forward and you followed his lead. Sealing your fate in history. 

You could see the shock in the face of your peers. The disgust was prevalent on their face. How could you, the daughter of prominent aurors, be switching sides now? It was so twisted to them that you were now joining the evil that your parents fought so hard against. Where were they now? Were they looking at you with shame? You couldn’t hear them and you weren’t about to turn around now. You couldn’t do it.  They would never understand why you did it. To them, you were nothing but a traitor. But you were? 

Draco was all you had left.

He welcomed you with an awkward hug and a sickening smile. His thin lips twisted into an upward smirk at the thought of the fate of those who refused to join him. 

You could still feel the coldness of his skin on yours seconds after he detached himself from you. 

Maybe you were a coward. Were you really if you were doing this for love? But you would do anything for him and he would do anything for you. He would set the damn world ablaze but would never let the fire scorch you. 

Your love with Draco was bloody deranged but you didn’t seem to care. As long as you had him next to you, you had grown apathetic to everything around you it seemed. 

As you stood next to Draco on the side of Voldermort, his hand firmly grasping yours, you knew that you had made the right decision. 

Because Draco Malfoy may have not been your beginning but he was going to be your end. Whether good or bad.

I have read a lot of good works where the reader helps Draco choose to stay on the good side. I was wondering what were to happen but the opposite?? So, this was the result :)

Taglist: @daisyyy2516 @id-kill-to-be-an-assassin @slytherinambitious @bonkybabe @phatcrackdad @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @mischiefisbeingmanaged @instabull @gwlvr @dracostruelove @belladaises

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Reminder: None of my work can be reposted anywhere. It doesn’t matter if you give credit, please do not repost!

[futurewriter2000]

Back Home

A/N: The fact that I spent 15 minutes looking for a gif and still didn't find the one that would be perfect, I gave up and just put a photo on. I love this fic however, one of my favorites and I hope you will too.

REQUEST:hiiiii! i hope you’re having a wonderful day, filled with sunshine & rainbows !! 💫✨ may i please request sirius x daughter! reader imagine where the reader is staying with sirius for the first time since he went to azkaban and when she goes to bed he tries to tuck her in but struggles because the last time he’d have done it, he probably would’ve read her a story but she’s presumably grown out of that by now and so he’s not really sure what to do ? 🥺🍄

XX

All those easy days finally led to now- today. He had prepared thousands of different speeches, conversations, scenes inside his head but when it came to those last moments of seeing you for the first time since he had been taken away from you, nothing could make his heart beat faster than the simple thought of that. His hands were clamming up, his fingers were snapping due to all the anxiety, his knuckles cracking, his golden family ring twisting on his middle finger...

Nothing could have prepared him for today. Not thousands of different speeches or comforting words of his best friend, who had been taking care of you for the last few years. Maybe that was a bit comforting; for Remus to keep his promise to him, even though he thought he was a murderer, he still took you in. Remus with his good wolf-like heart, despite all the things he believed.

He told Sirius you wouldn't care how he was dressed but Sirius had changed about seven times already. Tie or no tie? Bow or no bow? A jacket or a blazer? Jeans or pants? Hair combed or natural? Shaved or not shaved?

It all led him to here; him pacing up and down the living room, twisting his family ring on his finger as another mistake has caught his eye. "This probably should be put away?" he continued to look at the black family vase. "KREACHER!" he shouted and the small elf appeared from thin air.

"Yes, Master-"

"Put this vase away. Hide it, throw it- I don't care. Just get it out of my sight." he spoke nervously and the elf obeyed, cursing under his breath.

He heard the door open and a loud laughter echo through the hall. Your laughter- it wasn't as small and high as he remembered it to be but it was still yours- that he definitely knew.

"Oh this place hasn't changed at all, Moony." you said as you had looked around the hall, a nostalgic rush of memories running through your head. "Grandpa told me he always hated this portrait of him. Said his nose was too large."

Sirius chuckled. That was true. He always did hate the portrait of him in the hall but never said anything because of his wife.

"Never said anything because of my wretched grandmother." you repeated his thoughts.

"Your grandmother was more than just wretched, Paddy." Remus smiled and grabbed your luggage. "I'll take these upstairs. I think you remember where your room was."

"Up, left, three doors down." you finger gunned him and made your way through the hall.

When you entered the living room, you were alone. Nothing but the same old black leather sofa, the magnificent fireplace you used to warm up with your grandfather when you visited- though where is grandpa. You swore his jar was right on the fireplace. A dark ugly vase.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you looked around if somebody has placed it somewhere else. When you did, your eyes met his.

Your breath got caught in your throat and you felt yourself standing completely still. Something cut you in half, maybe the way he had watched you but when you came out of your shock, you realised it was still the same warm, fuzzy, homely feeling that washed over you.

"Wow." he smiled, looking at you from head to toe. Your hair was long and he was quite surprised because when you were a child, you always hated long hair. Too much brushing- you used to say. Your eyes were welcoming, bright and similar. He used to tell you that they reminded him a bit of his younger brother, Regulus. He used to have that same welcoming and bright look in his eyes when he was a little boy. It wasn't much in the shape or the colour but in they way they saw the world, which scared him and inspired him at the same way.

You were not a little girl anymore. You had grown. You had gotten curves and a womanly-like shape. Of course, jeans and a leather jacket. Reminds him of himself when he was your age. Your face was full of youth and you looked taken care for.

"You're definitely not a little girl anymore." he said as he tried to catch his breath.

"Yeah." you smiled, sitting down and looking a bit around. "Twenty. Even I'm starting hard to believe it." you smiled and patted the seat next to you.

"Twenty." he sighed under his breath. He felt his heart sink and his shoulders slump. He had missed everything. From your childhood, to your first day at Hogwarts, your first date, graduation,...

"You haven't changed much." you said and he looked at you, laughing a bit.

"You think so?"

"Yeah." you shook your head. "Your hair is still long, your eyes a bit tired."

He kept quiet. Yes, he was tired. He was exhausted from hiding all the time, from living in that prison, filled with revenge for that rat. "He calls you Paddy still." Sirius smiled, referring to the nickname Remus had given you. "He used to do that from the moment you were born. Little Padfoot, he called you."

"Oh, he had told me all about the day I was born. You fainting in the middle."

"I just had to lay down for a while, okay. He's over-exaggerating." he started to defend himself.

"Bet." you laughed and he joined you.

"He told me you're training to become an Auror."

"Yeah. Guess, I take after my old man." you smiled brightly at him, melting his heart into a puddle of love and pride. When you saw him melt in front of your eyes, you put your hand on his knee and gave him a comforting look. "I always believed you were innocent. I just could never prove it."

"Oh, darling." he couldn't help himself, pulling you into a hug and letting tears fall down his cheeks at the words you had said. "I don't think you know how much I needed to hear that."

---

The whole experience of being here felt nostalgic. You knew you had been here before, stepped on those same stairs, dug your toes in that same rug, put your watch on that same night stand,... even the sheets felt as light and silky as it did when you were only a child. You didn't mind spending your time here. Your grandmother was strict, more than you heard but your grandfather was soft, nothing like you had heard from Remus or your dad or Regulus... not that you remember your uncle much. You had some faint memories of him but he simply disappeared one day and neither of your grandparents wanted to mention his name ever again. A forbidden name but it was his room, you occupied and whenever you laid here, more connected you felt to him and your roots when your father was away.

You spent weekends here or week days here. Remus was always in search of jobs and some months he couldn't provide for the both of you so you had spent some years here. Your grandfather melted at your sight, he simply adored you and he reminded you so much of your own father. Your grandmother always told you that you had made him go soft but grandchildren tend to do that. You knew she was softer to you as well, more than she was with your father and your uncle. Your grandfather said that she wanted to do right by you, not drive you away like she did with her sons. He knew because he did just the same.

There was a knock on the door that took you far away from the old memories. "Come in." you said gently and a curly-head lad popped his head in.

He gave you the usual smile- just the one that had been filled till your 6th year of life.

"I came in here to wish you good night." he said as he entered the room, keeping something behind his back. "Oh wow." he looked around the room, feeling a little chill run down his spine as the memories of his brother ran through his mind. "It's just as I remember it. You didn't change it much."

"No. I didn't feel the need."

"I wonder where is he." Sirius said in a low whisper, barely audible to you. You decided to let go of this topic.

"I wanted to ask you something."

He turned back to you and sat down at the edge of your bed. "Shoot."

"What happened to grandpa?" you asked, causing Sirius' eyes to furrow. "His ashes? Did you spread them anywhere?"

"What are you talking about?"

"The urn. It used to sit up on the fireplace. It was a large black one. I know this place he used to take me just before he passed away. Only me and him knew about it. He never told grandmother about this place and he made me promise that it will be out little secret. It's a cave somewhere in Ireland. Cliffs of Moher, I believe."

"Wait..." he stopped you a bit. "That big ugly black vase was filled with his ashes?"

"Yes?" you raised an eyebrow at him.

"Oh..." he felt his cheeks flush and you could see his eyes bulk out.

"Have you done something to the urn?"

"No, no. Of course not. I just put it in a much safer place." he lied and you could see right through it. He definitely did something to the urn but you let it pass, since the object in his hand pulled more of your attention.

"Alright. What's that in your hand?" you pointed and he quickly looked down.

"Oh, this." he pulled it out and it was a big thick book- a book you had a clear memory of. "It's silly, you probably don't remember it anymore."

You let out a laugh. "You're joking, right?" you sat up gently took the book away from him. "The Tales of Beedle the Bard!" you let out another excited laugh. "How could I not remember this? You used to read it to me every night. I could not fall asleep without it."

Sirius felt his poor heart explode in his chest. God, you still had that little girl inside of you. The one he tucked in every night but always resister with your tiny little legs because it was always too hot.

"I thought you'd have outgrown it.." he said quietly.

"If my friends ask me, yes but between you and me-" you leaned forward and whispered. "This is a little secret."

He let out another laugh. "Would you like me to read it to you again?"

You smiled widely. "I'd love for you to read it but dad-" you said and is eyes snapped to you, wide in surprise as it was the first time you had called him that in so many year. "- wouldn't you rather... get the Urn back first before Kreacher throws it away?"

"Probably a good idea but I'll be back." he stood up and ran out of the room, causing you to laugh at the sight but when he did come back with his father in his arms, he already saw you asleep in your bed.

He gently put his father on the desk and made his way to you. The book was open in the middle, one of yours and his favorite tales. He scooped the book up and placed it beside the vase. Then he remembered just how much his father hated these fairytale based books, so he pushed it far away from him.

"Even when your dust, I can't trust you." he said, narrowing his eyes at the vase before going back to you and observing you for a moment.

If he really thought about it, he didn't really lose you. Maybe time did take a way some of the precious memories he wanted to share with you but you turned out beautiful. You turned out to be this amazing, forgiving and understanding angel that still loved to read fairytales and take care of people when they were already ash.

He grabbed the edge of the covers and pulled it up to your chin, tucking you neatly just as he would when you were a child. Then he could hear something happening at the foot of the bed and see your bare feet poking out. He let out a small laugh.

"Some habits stay the same." he said, pushing away the strands on your forehead and giving you a gentle kiss. He then quietly took the book and his father, smiling that he gets to spend the rest of his life, creating new memories with you.

[omgbubbletea]

Dating George Weasley Would Include

Let’s get one thing straight, it doesn't matter what house you're in

Sure, it would be a bonus if you were in Gryffindor because that would mean he wouldn't have to sneak into your common room to be with you 

Blood status also doesn't matter to him

If he loves you, he loves all of you

The reason you and George are together is all thanks to Fred 

He had grown sick and tired of George constantly talking about you 

How pretty you were 

How nice you smelled 

How he felt butterflies every time you smiled at him 

The boy must have been in-love or something

On the other hand, Fred had found out you had feelings for George by constantly bugging you on the subject till you cracked and told him

Being the oblivious pair George and you were, neither of you had realised the others feelings 

This is when Fred decided to take matters into his own hands 

His plan consisted of locking both you and George in a janitors closet until you both confessed your feelings 

He had told you guys to meet him in this particular closet for an emergency meeting

With the two of you being so ignorant, you walked into this closet, wondering where Fred was and why he had chosen such a weird place to meet 

As soon as you guys crossed the line, that’s when Fred had locked the door 

“Fred! what are you doing? Let us out!” (you and George started to yell)

“If you guys want out, then there’s something you should get off your chest first”

You both knew instantly what he was talking about 

Fred’s plan was almost fool-proof except for the fact that both you and George had your wands and could just alohomora your way out 

Oh, wait...

Fred had known you too well and knew you both always left your wands in the dorm during free time before dinner 

“Fred this isn't funny”(George was starting to get on edge)

“Do you hear me laughing?”

The closet was small(but who said you found it a problem(; )

A couple of minutes passed 

“Look (y/n)...”(George began to say slowly)

“I- I like you”

“I like you a lot, more than a friend probably should”(was that his heart pounding in his chest George could hear?)

At that moment your head shot up to meet his gaze 

Did he just confess his feeling to you?

Did he feel the same?

Hope began to form in your heart 

“George...”(he was ready for his heart to be broken)

“I’ve felt that way since I first met you”(a smile began to break on your face)

When I tell you that that boys smile lit up the room 

Nothing more was shared at that moment except for a hungry kiss 

He had been craving your lips for awhile now 

Of-course the moment only lasted so long before Fred swung the door open

“Ew, gross guys!”

The two of you just grinned 

If you are not in Gryffindor, then your days usually consisted of sneaking into the others common room

It’s a usual thing

Cuddling on the couch 

Playing board games 

Your friends(and others in your house) are used to seeing George around 

Surprisingly, you guys have never been caught(thanks to the marauders' map)

He’s always waiting outside of the common room so you guys can walk to breakfast together

You guys always sit next to each other in the great hall

If you are in a different house, he will walk you to your common room at the end of the day and give you a kiss goodnight(which usually gets a bit heated)

Pet names

Darling and gorgeous are his most used

You can’t help but get butterflies every-time those words roll of his tongue

“Well hello gorgeous” 

Small forms of PDA

Hand holding 

Arm around your shoulder 

Arm around your waist 

Temple kisses 

Cheek kisses 

Knuckle kisses 

He LOVES it when you play with his hair and just melts into your touch 

I have a theory that the twins give the BEST hugs

Bear hugs that engulf you

Hugs from behind where he pulls you closer to him

(and he’s always so warm...like what?)

You love wearing his jumpers

Yes, they are always baggy on you

You love the smell of them though(strawberries, vanilla and a bit of a smoky hint)because it’s just like having George there

He gives you one of his jumpers to keep so you would stop stealing all his other ones

It’s your favourite item of clothing and you always wear it to bed

Your first “I love you” came out of nowhere

The two of you were in the common room studying for an upcoming test

You should have been in your bed by now but of-course this test was more important than your exhaustion

With papers strewn across the table and your hand cramping from writing, you continued with your work, although George had stopped

Suddenly, you had become aware of him gazing at you

“Can I help you?”

“It’s nothing, you’re just...so beautiful”

You couldn’t help the blush that bloomed on your cheeks

“I love you”

The phrase was just audible

You had looked up in shock unsure if you had heard right

George was yet to comprehend what he had said when it all hit him

“Oh (y/n), I’m sorry! It just sort of slipt out- I didn’t mean to say it- I mean I want to say it because I love you but not that-”

You just chuckled at his constant rambling

“George, calm down, I love you too”

“I don’t want to make you se- wait, what did you just say?”

“I love you too”(you said it gently)

“Really..?”(he didn't sound too convinced)

In gesture, you gave him a sweet kiss, melting into the moment

It seemed to calm his mind

Spending summer and Christmas at the burrow

Molly loves you 

She knits one of her famous sweaters for you for Christmas  

If you are muggle-born(or even half-blood), Arthur loves when you tell stories about muggle life 

When Ron was younger, he had a BIG crush on you 

Now when he thinks about it, he just gets embarrassed

Ginny looks up to you(and thinks you're a bad bish)

You and Ginny love to have sleepovers together and gossip about all the people in Hogwarts

You also get filled in on all her latest “love life” with Harry  

Fred is one of your best and closest friends 

He is happy that George found someone to make him happy 

You’re Fred’s wing-women(although he doesn't agree because you haven’t done the best of jobs)

You guys love to tease George together 

Although it’s mainly just Fred teasing you and George 

“Can you guys get a room?!”

It was in those moments that Fred may have regretted locking you guys in that closet 

As much as he loves you, he does get a bit tired of hearing George talk about you all-day(nothing changed since he confessed his feelings for you)  

Lee is also a close friend to you 

It was only inevitable for you guys to bond with the twins being best friends with him

Many times have the two of you tried to get back at Fred and George with a prank 

Sadly, the twins somehow always manage to know what you guys are planning 

Let’s just say they prank you guys twice as hard for trying to outdo the masters 

The twins are always playing “light” pranks on you 

From dying your hair bright pink

To slipping a small amount of love potion into your drink 

It’s always a risk being around the two of them 

They love to get you involved in their pranks 

This usually means standing guard though):

You remember this one time in potions when you were first learning about amortentia

There was a fresh batch of it at the front of the class and everyone around the room was trying to get a whiff 

“Do I even have to ask what it smells like to you darling?” 

You closed your eyes and gave a sharp inhale 

“Vanilla, candy apples and amber” (you had said it so innocently)

George’s face was painted in horror 

“What?!” 

He was in disbelief because he KNEW he didn’t smell of amber or vanilla 

“CEDRIC?!” (the twins spoke rather loudly in unison)

“But- I- wha-”(George began to stutter on)

At that point, you couldn’t hold in your laughter any longer 

“I’m only joking!”

When I tell you how quick that boy calmed down 

“Oh thank Merlin”

That was revenge for staining your teeth blue for a whole week!

In all honesty, the pained look on George’s face when he realised you may not love him pained your heart 

On the other hand, Fred thought it was hilarious 

(If) you play quidditch for Gryffindor, then you are a chaser, otherwise, you are whatever position you got placed into 

If you are not in Gryffindor, then you are always watching the quidditch game and supporting the twins(unless it’s your house playing)

He loves to find you in the crowd 

You’re his #1 fan 

Steamy kisses after the game

If they win the game then it’s going to be a lot more than kissing(;

He has ended up in the hospital wing a couple of times because of the game

It has never been too serious but you still can’t help but worry for him 

“You know, even with a black eye and bloody face, I’m still the better-looking twin”

Fred just cracked up 

“He must still be a bit loopy from all that pain killer”

If you don’t play quidditch, then George has defiantly tried to teach you

It didn’t go too well

You ended up falling off the broom at only 1 meter off the ground

Face-planted into the grass

Ended with you having a dislocated jaw

George felt guilty for the rest of the month and wouldn't stop apologising

Meanwhile, Fred had fallen on his ass from laughing too hard

Trips to Hogsmeade

Raiding Honeydukes

Dates at the Three Broomsticks

Drinking enough butterbeer to get tipsy 

Lots of puns and dad jokes 

You were once learning how to produce a Patronus in DA when someone had just spelled a deer

You looked over at George to see him struggling a bit with the spell

And that’s when the awful pun left his mouth

“Oh deer, I just can’t seem to produce a Patronus” 

You tried to hold in your laugh 

“Shove off Weasley”

He takes you to the Yule Ball

It’s a magical night 

Full of dancing 

Screaming the lyrics to the songs playing 

Drinking fire whisky that Fred had smuggled in

Drunk snogging to the point where Snape found you guys and took 5 points off each of you 

Dancing around the common room 

Sneaking into the kitchens to steal food 

Tickle fights(I feel like George is very ticklish)

Swimming in the Black Lake on a dare 

Snowball fights in the winter 

He never fails to make you laugh

He is more of the shy, reserved twin 

Sometimes you just have to remind him that he is loved and noticed 

He will compare himself to Fred and it will never be positive 

You will reassure him and hold him for however long he needs

If what he needs is a good vent then you are ready to listen no matter what you are doing 

He is more important 

He is also more of the jealous twin 

Don’t get me wrong, he won't go all psycho boyfriend when he sees another guy talking to you 

He respects you and knows you would never leave him for someone else 

But if there is flirting going on or the guy is trying to make a move 

Let’s just say his temper won't last long 

“Hello darling”

Que passionate kiss between George and you 

“Sorry mate, she’s already taken”

You had never seen a guys face go paler 

Or seen George go so smug 

He always knows what to do when you're sad

He will listen to your every last word if you have to vent 

Or he will hold you in his arms for hours while whispering sweet nothings into your ear if all you want to do is cry it out 

By the end of it, you can't help but feel just a little bit better because of him 

He loves to hear about your day and you can’t deny that he is the best listener

He low key has separation anxiety  

He LOVES to spoon

Definitely the big spoon

Although he can’t help but love to be the little spoon sometimes 

“Hey um...Do you mind if we?...”

“You wanna be the little spoon?”

“Yes please...”

He’s smiling on the inside 

He may be a little shy in public but he’s a freak in the sheets if you know what I mean(;

He’s usually top but it drives him crazy if you switch rolls 

I feel like he’s a hair puller?

Will always make sure you’re comfortable with everything 

Super gentle at times 

But also can be rough... 

Would never do anything that would hurt you 

Lots of cuddling after 

He loves to give you flowers just to see you get all flustered

One time he stole flowers from the school grounds

Little did he know, Mcgonagall had seen the whole thing

“Mr Weasley, are those flowers from Professor Sprout’s greenhouse?”

The look on his face was a dead give away

“Funny story actually Professor...”

Let’s just say it wasn’t the funniest of stories

Braiding his longer hair 

Showers together 

Piggyback rides to class

Studying in the library with Fred(but he usually just gets bored and leaves)

He reads to you 

Basically he is perfect in every way and will love you till the end 

[migilini]

I Do - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: I watched to many seasons of married at first sight and this came to mind. Just pretend that Charlie in this GIF is wearing a suit. Kinda a part two to Fifth Time Workes A Charm

Requests are open btw! (not just for Charlie)

words: 3k

warnings: none just fluff and a lot of crying

MASTERLIST

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

You barely slept during the night. You kept waking up what felt like every hour to check if it was time to get up. The bed felt awfully empty and you would give everything right now to be in his arms. Then finally, the clock strikes 9 am and you are up on your feet, the nerves getting the better of you. The hotel room was nice and clean, you didn't like it, it felt too white and too lifeless to you right now.

You looked at yourself in the mirror, glowing but tired eyes staring right back at you. Taking a deep breath you tried to shake the nerves with a silly little body shake, then you smiled at yourself before heading into the bathroom to wash your face.

A knock on the door interrupted you mid-splash and you went to the door with a dripping face. “We’ve arrived!” your best friend Elouise or Eli for short exclaimed and hieved her whole baggage onto your bed. “What do you mean we?” you leaned your head out of the room and into the empty hallway. Just as you were about to close the door, feet pounded on the carpeted floor. “Sorry, sorry! Had to finish the call with hair and makeup.” Tris, your other best friend screamed through the halls, as she frantically came running towards you, phone clutched in one hand while the other held two dresses that flattered behind her.

You looked at her in amusement "Need a glass of water?" You chuckled at her heavy breathing and closed the door behind you.

"Oh yes please"

"Y/N you're so not ready...well lucky for you we are here. So hop hop go shower ma lady." Eli shushed you into the bathroom "and scrub every inch! I'll check if I have to!” You still heard their laughter as you get rid of your clothes and step into the shower. The warm water relaxed your muscles and your nerves immediately.

Several minutes later, now smelling like a goddess and wrapped into a soft white towel, you sat on the bed in your now crowded hotel room. While you were showering your nerves away, your dress, the hairdresser and makeup artist arrived.

“There she is!” greeted the makeup artist “Come sit down, we’ve got everything out and you and I already discussed your look. Are we still okay with it?”

“Yes, Carlos. But make everything as cry proof as possible okay?” you said laughing slightly.

“I also brought you a coffee and a croissant. I know you don’t usually eat something in the mornings but we don’t want you to faint now do we?” Tris held a tablet in front of her with several cups of coffees and something to eat. You took a cup gratefully, shooting her a quick thanks, holding the cup as Carlos started on your face and Melissa, the hairdresser started drying and styling your hair.

“Can I have my phone back?” You said to no one in particular.

“Nope, sorry.”

“Emi! What--It’s my phone!”

“I do know that. And you should know that Tris and I know you very well and you would’ve called or more likely face timed him by now and put a bad omen over the whole day.”

“Yeah. You and Charlie can’t be away from each other for long.” Tris acknowledged and sided with Emi.

“You’re just jealous that I’m in love.” You shot back with a smile and stuck your tongue out at your friends which in return gave you a growl from Carlos and Melissa who needed you to sit still.

After what felt like an eternity you were done and now it was time for your bridesmaids to get ready. They purposefully taped a piece of cloth over all mirrors so could only see yourself when you were 100% finished with getting ready.

Now that you had some time to actually think about today, your mind started to wander. Was Charlie ready by now or were there some complications? Tris did get a call earlier to then just run out of the room and come back 20 minutes later. What suit would he wear? Was he just as nervous as you? Totally unaware of how much time you passed, you were ripped out of your thoughts with a forceful swat on your shoulder.

“Miss Bride? It’s time to get the dress on.” Tris squealed.

You took a look at your best friends who looked absolutely stunning, at some time they got changed into their dresses. Emi smiled at you with a glossed lipped smile, her brown hair up in a bun while little strands of glitter strings framed her face. She wore a turquoise halter dress with some nude heels. Tris wore a bit of a darker turquoise strapless dress, her colourful hair falling straight over her shoulder. Both had simple makeup, a nude smokey eye with eyeliner.

Your eyes started to tear up. “Guys...you look absolutely stunning.” Emi walked over to you and embraced you in a hug. “We look really fudhing good but you’re gonna look even better. Now hop hop get undressed we have to lace up the dress.”

While your friends were working on lacing your dress up, you wondered out loud. “How much do we wanna bet that Owen lost the rings?” You chuckled and then yelled, “That's way too tight!”

“Oh Owen is so gonna lose the rings but we'll be fine. You’re gonna have rings or I'll run and get you some new ones.” Tris reassured you with a smile.

“Can I finally look at myself? I want to see if I look like a bride.” Emi and Tris shared a quick look before agreeing. Emi ripped the cloth away from the closest mirror. An audible gasp was all that was heard, everybody fixated on your reaction to yourself.

“I look like a real ass bride. I- oh my god… I look so good.” You coaxed out, trying not to cry, this got all a bit real too fast.

And you really did look amazing. Your open hair fell over your shoulders and ended right underneath your boob. It had a lot of volume and little glitter braids in it and Melissa had curled them to perfection so they framed your face perfectly. Your makeup was stunning as well, the reddish-brown and glittery smokey eye complementing your skin tone and eye colour. Carlos finished the look with a pinkish nude lipstick. You were glowing.

The cream coloured dress sat perfectly on your figure, the A-line cut highlighting your waist, the flowery lace flowing from the corset top down to your feet. The dress was poofy but not too much. You looked more like Sofie from Mamma Mia and less like Cinderella. You adjusted the straps and smiled at yourself.

“And I’m telling you, Charlie will bawl his eyes out when he sees you.” Emi patted your back and finished lacing up your dress. Tris couldn't contain herself anymore and let out a little sob “I’m sorry. You just look so gorgeous. I can’t believe you're getting married.” You pulled her into a hug.

“We don't have that much time anymore. the photographer should be here in five minutes to take your bridal pictures and pictures with the bridesmaids.”

The photo session went by quickly and you could tell that they turned out amazingly, by the way, Paul, the photographer, smiled at his screen. Megan, Charlie's sister and your other Bridesmaid came in at the last minute, due to the fact that she just flew in in the morning.

Then it was time for the first look. At first, you weren't sure if you should do this or if it would be better if the first look would be at the ceremony itself. You thought it would be funny to send Tris to the first look instead of you. So you, Megan and Emi sat in the hotel room waiting patiently.

The door opened “You two are really made for each other.” Tris came back in with a huge smile on her face. “Why? What happened?” You asked, the nervousness in your voice was evident. “Was he mad?”. She started to laugh “No absolutely not because he had the same idea as you and sent Owen.”

The room erupted in laughter “Oh no he didn't!” “Of course he did”

The next couple of hours flew by so quickly. You got to the venue. Your parents came by to say hello to you and to shed some tears. They also told you that most of the guests have arrived and everybody is waiting excitedly.

Finally, it was time. You nervously cracked your fingers, as you waited for all the guests to take a seat, the closed door in front of you the only thing shielding you from your fiance, your dad standing beside you in a suit.

“Nervous?” he asked you with a slight smile, you could tell that he was trying hard not to cry.

“Very. But I’m telling you if he doesn't cry I'll turn around and we gotta try again.” you joked.

“Oh my dear...he will.” he quickly took a look at his watch and then linked his arm with yours.

“Ready?” you shot him a smile and nodded “As ready as I'll ever be.”

The outside speakers started to play the instrumental version of Cherry Wine by Hozier and the doors opened.

It was mid-May and you and Charlie decided on an Outside wedding. After searching for a great venue you finally found one. It was an old brick house with a small colonnade of bushes in the garden. It was absolutely perfect but you didn't even look at the decorations because as soon as your eyes met his, the world stood still.

He stood at the front of the colonnade where some candles burned beside him. He wore a forest green tuxedo and that dashing smile of his. The closer you got, the more you saw how much he was crying and all you wanted to do is hug him and wipe the tears away. Your cheeks hurt from all the smiling but you couldn't stop, some tears of your own spilling out of the corners of your eyes.

You kissed your dad on the cheek and let him sit down in the front row, your eyes only momentarily leaving Charlies. “Hi, handsome.” You smiled up at him and instinctively used your thumb to wipe away some tears. “Did you cut your hair?” you asked, nodding to his now chin-length hair (think October Charlie) He grabbed your hands in his and kissed your knuckles while slightly nodding his head “You look...just wow,” he whispered so that only you could hear. You just wanted to give him a compliment when the officiant interrupted you.

“Now it's getting serious.” you said while he said “No backing out.” with a wink.

“The couple standing in front of me met at the young age of 18 in the middle of the street. Y/N bumped into Charlie here and practically fell for him right there and then. She shot him a quick sorry and went her way but the universe knew that these two needed to be together so the next day he bumped into her, totally accidental of course.” the crowd laughed and you and Charlie beamed at each other. “Sadly for Y/N that day she carried an expensive Cake that flew to the other side of the pavement. Charlie felt so bad that he promptly invited her to the next bakery where they got a cup of coffee and a new cake. Today we’re gathered here today to celebrate that love.”

“I believe that the two of you wrote your own vows? Y/N would you like to start?” You nodded and turned around to take a piece of paper from Emi who stood behind you, already missing the warmth of his hands in yours.

“Charlie, you know I’m not very good with words so I really struggled to write this, but here we are standing in front of your family and friends to share our love. I knew I loved you…” your voice wavered and you let out a sob “sorry...I knew I loved you in the first week that we’ve met. We sat on a bench in the little park right around the corner from where we met. You were late and totally out of breath when you arrived. You apologized like crazy but I didn't care, you don't know this but I had a really shitty day that day and just seeing you made it all worth it. That smile of yours knocked me off my feet completely.

From that day on I only loved you more and more. I love the way you try to wake up every day with a smile. The way you always seem to have so much energy and that you try to share that energy and love with the whole world. I love waking up in your arms because they feel like home and I miss you like crazy when I don't see you for a day.

I never really believed in love at first sight before I met you and I’m so glad that you ruined my cake. I promise to try and make you smile at least twice a day, to listen and care for you, to dance with you in the kitchen while our pizza is in the oven. I also promise to try your questionable food combinations at least once every time.

I can’t promise you that we won't fight or that we won't have our ups and downs but I will promise that we’ll work it out, that we’re not going to bed with grudges, to talk about our problems and thoughts and to always make up. I promise to be your partner in crime and to take all the blame if we ever get caught and lastly, and most importantly...

I promise to love you more and more until my heart stops beating, even when the day comes that we're old and grey, I promise to always see you with the same eyes and the same heart that I see you with at this exact moment.” You took a deep breath to try and stop your sobbing. Now it was Charlie's turn to wipe away some tears.

��Baby, don’t cry your makeup will get ruined.” he joked and you let out a small laugh. “Charlie, I believe now it's your turn to speak your vow.”

He took a shaky breath in before taking a folded piece of paper from the inside of his tuxedo pocket. “I want to start off with a simple I love you. I love the way you still give me butterflies every time I see you. I love the way you care not only for me but for everyone around you. I love the way you're patient with me. I love how much you're willing to try new things with me to make me happy because you really didn't like swimming with sharks. I admire how hard you work to help others and above all, I love how you love me.

It's in the way you look at me with such patience and compassion, the way you listen to me even if I'm rambling on, the way you push me to try harder even when I feel like I've done enough. You love me without judgment and chose to see the beauty in my flaws. Today, I want to make promises to you that I will always keep. I promise to love you back forever and harder each day. I promise never to get angry at you for making honest mistakes, even if I asked you to turn the lights off every night for the past week...

I promise to never stop holding your hand or give you a goodbye kiss. I promise to walk through life, as your biggest fan, your shoulder to lean on, and your best friend and I vow to stay silly, to never take ourselves too seriously, and stay just immature enough for cake and breakfast for dinner.

You're my soldier, my lover and above all, my best friend and I'm so excited to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Both of you were grinning and crying like idiots. “Now can we have the rings please?” the officiant asked the crowd and a teary-eyed Owen stepped forward the rings clutched in his hands.

“Thank you.” the officiant gave each of you a ring. “Do you Y/N Y/L/ want to take this man as your husband in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” You smiled up at Charlie and slid the ring on his left ring finger. “Oh good it fits,” you murmured and made him chuckle.

“And do you Charlie Gillespie want to take this woman as your wife in sickness and in health?”

“I do.” He grinned widely and also slid the ring on your left hand.

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Charlie, you may kiss the bride.” Your lips locked with his and you couldn't be happier. Your hands found their way into his hair while his hands gripped your waist. His lips were soft and warm and you missed them dearly in the night the two of you were apart. The crowd cheered when he dipped you.

“I present to you for the first time Mr and Mrs Gillespie!”

[listentothelittlebird]

So I wrote Waterbender Jason Todd and that was a blast (the series is Gotham’s White Lotus!) but I went through a ton of drafts for how Jason got reintegrated into the Batfam - and here’s one of the drafts!

Word Count: 2760 words

I like this one because it’s dramatic :) Enjoy!

(This draft essentially diverges directly after Burning Iceberg - some of the diversions can be seen in the tags!)

An explosion, Oracle’s words quickly filtering into their comms.

“I have eyes on the combustion bender. Looks like he’s still looking to complete his contract.”

Batman’s voice came next, barking an order for Robin to return to the Batcave.

“But-”

“Little bird, you should probably listen to the B-man,” Red Hood jumped in, “Seriously. Lay off this one for all of us, alright?”

Robin huffed, but obeyed.

The explosions followed Robin’s movements until Batman was able to intercept the bender. Red Hood dropped down soon after. Batgirl had taken to accompanying Robin back to the Batcave. Nightwing informed them that he was on his way to Gotham, likely to check up on Robin for his own assurance.

The blasts caused Red Hood to dart to one side, Batman to the other. Before the smoke filling the empty warehouse could clear, a blade was pressed to Jason’s neck.

“Where is my son?” the voice hissed. The Pit was long gone, but that did nothing to quell the snarl that answered the question.

“Nice to see you too, Talia,” Jason spat out. He could guess why Talia had come to Gotham - investigating the new mask that held his build, as well as the absence of one eight-year-old after his most recent mission.

“Where-” the sword dug deeper, “-is. My. Son.”

“Where do you think?” Jason snarked, “C’mon, Tals, you can’t be that much of an idiot. Detective it out yourself.”

Talia growled. “You poisoned my child’s thoughts,” Talia murmured darkly, “If not for you, Damian would have completed his mission successfully, and been ever closer to becoming a satisfactory Heir. I should have recognised your meddling from the start.”

Jason chuckled. The smoke was clearing, now, and from the comms, it seemed that Batman was apprehending the combustion bender. He hoped Oracle could hear him and had alerted the others.

“You kept Damian from his father,” Jason stated evenly, “The least I could do was tell the kid about his Dad and his brothers. You know, the brothers you never told him about? Not to mention his sister, too.”

“He is the blood-son.”

“He is the youngest son, and you’re gonna have to get through me and the rest of us if you so much as think of hiding him away again.”

Batman dropped down in front of them. Talia’s sword was still dangerously close to his neck, digging in slightly, nearly drawing blood.

“Back away from the Hood, Talia,” Batman growled, “This is between you and me.”

Talia stilled.

“You haven’t told him,” Talia realised.

Shit.

The sword was humming, growing warmer. Jason could feel the heat on his skin.

“You told me you wanted revenge. You told me you wanted your replacement gone,” Talia was on a roll, now, grasping greedily for control, “You told me you wanted him to pay. For not avenging you. For leaving The Joker walking.”

Jason shuddered at the mention of the Rogue. He could feel Talia’s shark-like grin at his neck.

“A shame,” she tutted, “You realised, didn’t you? That he never cared for you. No wonder you have yet to tell him the truth.”

Batman took a stuttering step forward. Jason tried to control his breathing, the blade heating up enough to burn. She was trying to get under his skin. Trying to…

Jason made sure to inject rage and malice into his next words, “You’re not the only one with tricks up your sleeve, Talia.”

Underneath his jacket was a flask of water for emergencies.

“Oh?” Talia hummed menacingly, “And what may that be?”

Jason moved, breaking out of the hold. The sword flared into flames.

The jet of water knocked Talia back several paces, but not before she could take a slash at his helmet. The material melted into his lenses, and Jason cursed, ripping off the helmet just in time to block her blade with an ice-coated arm.

“The spirits. That was you.”

“Bingo. Looks like the Pit didn’t melt out your brains.”

Jason met the flurry of attacks steadily, bending the broken ice into water blasts and back to ice once more, dodging the flames and ignoring the singed marks on his clothes.

Another explosion. Jason’s gaze darted just enough to see that the combustion bender had returned, hands bound but still conscious.

“I should have never helped you,” Talia stated, a tone of finality, “It’s only right I bury you again.”

A bout of flames aimed for his face, forcing Jason to roll backwards, just out of reach. By the time he got back to his feet, Talia was standing beside the combustion bender, who was already in stance. Another explosion sounded, right above him.

Jason only had time to curl up and erect a crystal of ice around him before the warehouse roof fell.

He could taste the smoke on his lips, the dust of wood and cement. He waited one, two seconds, straining against the weight of the building against the ice, before digging into his jacket, pulling out a small comms unit and stuffing it into his ear.

“-you hear me? Hood!” Oracle was yelling.

“I’m under the warehouse,” Jason gasped out, coughing up the smoke and dirt and dust, “I’m- I’m underneath. I- please. Please get me out. Fuck.”

He was trembling. The ice creaked, painfully loud in the silence. 

“I can’t-” his lips moved without his permission, “-can’t do this again. Shit. I- don’t make me do this again.”

Distantly, he registered that his voice was no longer modulated, like it was in his helmet.

“I found him,” came Batman’s grunt, and if Jason had enough space within the ice, he would have keeled over in relief. The soil beneath him rumbled, but Jason had long come to associate this specific tremble with earthbending. The earth opened, and Jason gasped as he dropped into the ditch, which closed and engulfed him in darkness.

“B?” Jason whispered, the sound echoing. He was vaguely aware of someone approaching him as his breath quickened.

“It’s me, Hood,” Batman’s voice sounded, and Jason sobbed.

“I- shit. Shit.”

“It’s alright,” Batman soothed, “It’s-”

Batman cut himself off, coming to a stop just in front of where Jason was on his hands and knees, desperately trying to quell his panicked breathing.

A hand on his shoulder pulled him into an upright position on his knees. Jason flinched as a flashlight was shined on his face, then gulped audibly as Batman visibly jolted back in shock. The light stayed trained on his face, even as Batman reached out slowly, as if scared he would disappear. His hand first found Jason’s arm, then his neck, pressing to his pulse, and then reached to his face, peeling off the red domino mask with a fragile touch.

A beat passed, where Jason stared into Batman’s cowl, desperately waiting for a reaction.

“Batman, what’s Hood’s status?” came through the comms.

“Jason?” he whispered. He tugged off his cowl, and Bruce’s eyes shone with flickering hope and brokenness. 

Jason sucked in gulps of air in between his hitched breaths, enough for him to rasp out one word, “Dad.”

The light moved away from his face, a black gauntlet grasping tightly onto his arm, nearly bruising in its grip, pulling him roughly forward. Jason lost his balance, tipping straight into a tight hug that knocked the breath out of him, just as it knocked the first tears loose.

“Dad,” he whispered again, the grip around him tightening somehow, “Dad.”

“Jason,” Bruce returned just as reverently, “Oh, son, why didn’t you say anything? Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m-” Jason sobbed, gasping, “I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know… how… how to tell you. Didn’t know what to say. I-”

Bruce shushed him quietly, and Jason dissolved into tears in his father’s arms.

-

“Jason?” Bruce had whispered, and then the words through the comms were too muffled to make out.

“Batman? Batman, are you there?” Dick tried again, sharing another concerned look with Tim. Bruce had gone silent, save for words that were too hard for them to make out. Cass placed a steadying hand on Dick’s shoulder, a silent sign of support.

“Tune into Red Hood’s comms,” Oracle chimed abruptly. Dick frowned, but did as told. 

“-Dad,” the voice, unmodulated for the first time, cracked with emotion, and the two brothers froze. The voice bordered on familiarity, despite the lower tones and faint rasp. 

Damian, who had been inattentive to the audio up until that point, straightened abruptly from where he had been scrutinising a batarang. He was by their side in moments, focused intently on the blank screen of the Batcomputer as if it could provide him the answers of the universe. Cass looked on with narrowed eyes, picking up the tension in their stances, tension for different reasons.

“I’m sorry,” was heard, dissolving into incoherent phrases that were shushed by another voice. Bruce, Dick’s brain supplied. That was Bruce comforting Red Hood- comforting-

“I’m not hearing things, am I?” Dick’s voice trembled, humour falling flat. Tim’s face was pinched beside him, vaguely pale, likely mirroring his own. 

Beside them, Damian breathed deeply, in and out, and turned to them with a determined tilt to his frown.

“The brother I mentioned before,” Damian started, snapping Dick’s attention towards him, “The one who told me about the zoo, about hugs. He told me about you as well, Grayson.”

Damian met his eye with only a flicker of hesitation. “He told me you loved hugs, and other forms of physical affection. He told me you once ate a box of cereal and started doing cartwheels down the hallway. He said you taught him how to fly, and how to fall.”

“Prepare the medbay for smoke inhalation,” Batman’s voice intoned. Alfred had appeared on the steps to the Manor, already making his way towards the medical supplies. Tim and Cass shared a look, and followed.

“Jason Todd,” Dick blurted, Tim’s steps faltering, Cass freezing. Something clattered out of Alfred’s always-steady hands. “The brother you’re talking about. Is his name Jason Todd?”

Damian’s gaze, still wary and too-old from his childhood training, nodded with conviction.

-

Alfred paused at the bedside, taking a moment to stare at the absolute miracle in front of him, sleeping peacefully with the same expression he had once seen on a small malnourished boy. He had just managed to convince Master Bruce to wash up before staying vigil by Master Jason’s side, and Alfred was quietly glad for the moment to allow himself the time to take in Master Jason’s aged appearance.

Alfred rested a hand on Jason’s head, and allowed himself an indulgent brush through the young man’s hair, the tuft of white hair tangled into his raven hair. 

“My dear boy,” Alfred whispered, “Words cannot describe how glad I am, to see you alive.”

Master Jason twitched slightly, eyes flitting open just enough to take in Alfred’s face. A small smirk made its way to his lips, a greeting as much as it was a sign of his relief. Master Jason hummed out something intelligible, but Alfred shushed the boy, and his eyes easily slid shut once more.

-

Jason jolted awake with a gasp.

“Jay,” came a soft rumble, “Jaylad. You’re okay. It’s okay.”

Jason flitted his gaze over the room, cataloguing everything he could see in the dim lighting, before familiarity met him with sudden certainty. His gaze drifted over to the speaker.

“It’s okay,” Bruce repeated softly, guiding Jason back to lying against the pillow.

“B-” Jason grimaced at his dry throat, “Bruce?”

Bruce offered him a cup of water. Jason squinted at it and lifted his hand, but Bruce’s hand lowered it before the water could so much as ripple. “No bending in the Manor,” Bruce huffed, his lips twitching into a small smile, “Alfred would have your head in no time.” Jason huffed a laugh as the cup was pressed into his hand.

When the cup had been emptied, Jason cast another glance over the room. It was Bruce’s bedroom, Bruce on a chair beside the bed, Jason in the bed, now propped up against the headboard.

“The bender,” Jason started, turning to eye Bruce, subconsciously checking for injuries. He had a nasty-looking bruise on his arm, but otherwise looked alright. 

“He got away,” Bruce stated, “With Talia.” Bruce paused, visibly reigning himself in, settling for, “Jason… I have many questions.”

“I’m sure you do,” Jason agreed with a cringe, “There’s… a lot to cover.”

He blinked then, perking up once more, “Damian. Can I see Damian?”

“Talia let you meet him,” Bruce guessed. Jason nodded distractedly, shuffling himself out of the covers and inching towards the edge of the bed. He paused to sniff the baggy shirt he was wearing, and blinked at Bruce. “Am I wearing your clothes?”

“You are,” Bruce confirmed, lip ticked up in amusement. There was a concerned glint in his eyes as Jason stood up, swaying through a head-rush. Bruce’s hands stuttered towards him, but hesitated. Jason took the initiative and wrapped his arms tightly around Bruce, and Bruce hugged him back just as firmly.

“Damian’s having breakfast with the others,” Bruce spoke softly, “Are you… ready to see them? Or would you rather me bring Damian up alone?”

Jason hesitated. 

“I kind of owe them all answers, don’t I? Let’s just get it over and done with. Rip it off like a band-aid.”

Bruce hummed, lingering in the hug for a long moment before finally letting his arms go loose. Jason pulled away with a small smile, Bruce brushing a hand over his face with an overly tender expression.

There was vague scuffling coming from the kitchen.

“Quick, grab the coffee, Dami!” Dick hollered with a laugh, easily swiping Tim into the air and holding him over his shoulder. Tim twisted with a feral kick at Dick’s face, which he easily dodged by maneuvering until Tim’s arms were pinned and his legs stuck out too far to hit anything substantial. 

“Be careful, Masters,” Alfred called from where he was dealing with their pancakes, not once looking up to acknowledge the play-fighting.

Cassandra was watching from the side, the only one to acknowledge Bruce and Jason as they walked in, giving them a smile and a wave. She stepped towards Bruce first, pulling him into a short hug, and did the same for Jason. Jason froze unsurely, but Cassandra smiled into his collar and giggled. “Cass,” she murmured, pulling away to beam, “Hello, brother.”

Jason returned the smile tentatively. “Hello, sister,” he offered, Cass’ smile stretching wider. Bruce looked ready to burst with emotion.

Tim whined and slumped over in Dick’s grip as Damian, on Dick’s encouraging nod, poured away the coffee into the sink, “This is unfair! Absolutely unfair! It’s only been a week and I’m already suffering from middle-child syndrome. Unfair.”

Jason snuck up on Dick and pounced, tipping them both to the ground and grabbing Tim out of Dick’s hold. “Middle children have to stick together,” Jason nodded sagely, grinning widely as Tim stared down at him dazedly, from where he had ended up sprawled on top of him.

“Jay!” Dick chirped brightly, and Jason grunted as the older boy flopped on top of them both, “You’re awake!”

“Get off, Dickhead!” Jason managed to roll out from under him. One thing led to another, and suddenly Jason had himself wrapped in a Dick Grayson Hug that was definitely not stopping anytime soon. That was about the time he met Damian’s eye, and he gave the boy a warm smile.

“What did I tell you, Baby Bat?” he drawled, rolling his eyes and gesturing to Dick’s arms, “Dickie loves hugs. Can’t get away from him even if you tried.”

“Damn right,” Dick hummed happily, squeezing briefly, “You run now and I’ll hunt you down and hug you for even longer.”

Jason gave an answering pat to Dick’s shoulder in acknowledgement. To Damian, he shook his head in mock-annoyance. Damian stepped forward, then, and folded himself against Jason’s other side. Jason curled his arm around the boy, and Damian shoved himself more firmly against his side.

“Your eyes aren’t green,” Damian whispered. 

“No, they’re not,” Jason agreed, “I… it’s a long story, but I managed to get rid of the Pit rage, and got my bending back, while I was at it.”

“We have time,” Tim pointed out, settling himself on the ground in front of the small pile of pressed-together bodies, “I don’t think you’ll be extracting yourself from Dick anytime soon, either.”

Jason huffed, smiling softly. “I’ll start from the beginning, then.”

[mymoonagedaydream]

Home (Part 1)

Summary: Two years ago, you’d left behind your hometown and the love of your life to pursue your dream career, but returning for Christmas really made you start to second-guess that decision.

Pairing: Bucky x y/n

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Language

Author’s Note: A Christmassy one for ya’ll! This story is inspired by the requests above from @shawnie--jo, thank you for those and for the inspo! I couldn’t fit everything into a oneshot, so this may end up being three or four parts.

---

You stuffed your bag into the overhead locker and collapsed into your seat, completely exhausted.

Some chaos was to be expected when travelling so close to Christmas, but still, you really could've done without the three hour check-in queues and the chorus of screaming babies.

Leaning back in your chair and pulling on your headphones, you squeezed your eyes shut and just tried to think about all the things that would make this journey worth it, all the things you’d missed about Christmas with your parents.

The excitement on their faces as they greet you at the airport, your mother’s incredible home-cooking, your father’s insistence on playing charades three or more times a day. It was your first time visiting home since moving away two years ago, and you wanted the whole cosy, corny nine yards.

There was just one teensy little caveat to your relaxing family holiday- two years away from home meant two years since you'd seen Bucky.

You were childhood sweethearts, head over heels in love with each other for as long as you could remember and best friends for even longer. When you were offered a job across the country, you wanted so much for him to move with you, but he’d already promised his father that he’d take over the family car-repair business. 

It was the most difficult decision of your life, but eventually the two of you agreed there was no choice but to separate. 

Being away from him tore you apart for the first few months, but now you'd finally gotten back on your feet, and you were ready to come face to face with your past again.

Or so you thought.

---

Your parents pulled you into a tight bear-hug as soon as you walked through arrivals, taking your bags, talking your ear off and quickly ushering you to the car.

Amongst all the excited babbling, you just about managed to discern that they’d planned a welcome home party for you that night with half the neighbourhood, an announcement which triggered a mix of dread and excitement to begin churning in your stomach.

You were looking forward to seeing your oldest friend again, you just hoped to god that things wouldn’t be weird or awkward between the two of you.

After a short drive, the car pulled up outside your childhood home. Just seeing it from the outside made you feel all warm and cosy but, as soon as you glanced through the door, those feelings were amplified off the charts. 

The place looked incredible. Your mother had obviously put so much effort into making it look cosy and festive, you even felt yourself tearing up a little when you stepped inside. It was so elaborate, you had half a mind to interrogate her about a possible Christmas with the Kranks scenario going down prior to your arrival, but you decided it was probably best to just keep your mouth shut.

After you’d looked around properly and unpacked, it was only a matter of hours before the first guests started arriving.

You downed two beers to loosen yourself up a little. Each time the bell went, your eyes snapped towards the door, the sound making your heart leap out of your chest. It felt like you were waiting to find out whether that hard mass in the bottom of your stocking was a big-ass diamond or a lump of coal. 

When Bucky finally appeared in the doorway, your jaw almost hit the shag carpet. The last two years had been unreasonably good to him, he looked like James Dean but somehow even more buff. 

The boy you'd left behind had become a man in your absence and sweet Jesus it was really making you feel some kind of way. 

His eyes were frantically scanning the room but he hadn't spotted you yet, so you took the opportunity to sneak up behind him and tap him on the shoulder.

‘Hey, stranger.’

He swivelled round, his eyes lighting up when they met yours. Before he said a word, you were pulled into a tight hug, audibly gasping when you were lifted clean off the ground.

‘Where the hell you been, Lilypad?’

You burst out laughing, remembering falling into a pond on your seventh birthday and him never, ever letting you live down. A wave of happy memories flooded your mind, making you smile widely as he set you down.

‘Still the same old Yucky.’

‘Hey, we agreed you wouldn't call me that anymore.’

‘I'll stop calling you Yucky when you stop calling me Lilypad.’

The corners of his mouth curled into a mischievous smirk. ‘Never.’

And just like that, it felt as though you'd never left.

You were excited to be with your old friend again, you were happy that there seemed to be no awkwardness between the two of you, and you were really doing your very best to suppress all the other intense feelings that had surfaced as soon as he’d walked through the door.

‘Come on, I'll get you a drink.’ You grabbed his arm and dragged him through to the kitchen, rummaging around in the fridge while he leant against the counter next to you. ‘Are you still working for your dad?’

‘Yep. He's hoping to retire in the next few years, so I'll finally be taking over.’

‘That's so great, you're pretty much set for life with that place.’

He nodded faintly, burying his hands in his pockets and flicking his gaze down to the floor. ‘So how, uh- how long are you back for?’

‘I'm flying back early on the 31st.’

‘You’re not even staying for New Year?’ The hint of disappointment in his voice made you immediately stop what you were doing and look over to him, his face going a little red as he shifted around awkwardly. ‘Ah, I bet you got loads of invites to big, crazy city parties.’

‘If you call staring at a computer screen until 3am and slowly spiralling into madness a party.’

You passed him a beer, his eyes staying fixed on the bottle as he mumbled. ‘All the work will be worth it one day though, right?’

‘I hope so.’

Your eyes locked, a heavy silence falling between you. This was exactly the kind of uncomfortable atmosphere you were dreading.

Panicking a little, you vaguely gestured towards the living room. ‘I should probably, y’know, mingle.’

‘Sure. I'll find you later though Lilypad, we gotta catch up some more.’

You gave him a warm smile and nodded, turning away and disappearing into the crowd.

The next couple of hours seemed to blur together. You made meaningless small-talk with people you barely knew, all the time just thinking about Bucky, about how quickly things had gone from fun and light-hearted to incredibly tense.

You just hoped you could get things back on a good track before you had to leave, losing him completely was the very last thing you wanted.  

Shuffling into the kitchen to grab yourself another drink, you noticed him duck out the back door. He must've hit his socialisation limit. The two of you used to reach that point around the same time at parties, so you'd slink out together and share a cheap cigarette.

Abandoning your freshly opened beer on the counter, you followed him out, finding him tucked away around the side of the house.

‘Right on time.’

His head snapped towards you, the cigarette almost falling from his mouth as he shot you a wide smile. ‘Am I that predictable?’

‘I just know you too well.’

You leant against the wall next to him, hugging your arms tight as you felt yourself start to shiver, cause you were the kind of idiot that went outside in December wearing short-sleeves. Bucky noticed straight away, letting out a gruff chuckle as he shrugged his jacket off his shoulders and wrapped it round you.

‘That cushy city life has made you soft.’ He rubbed your arms a little, trying to warm you up, before eventually bringing his hands to rest on your shoulders and fixing his gaze to yours. ‘I'm really glad you're here, Lilypad. I've missed you.’

‘I've missed you too, Buck. I've missed a lot of things about this place.’

‘So why don’t you stay longer?’

‘Believe me, I was lucky to get this much time off.’

His eyes narrowed slightly, a concerned frown spreading over his face as he folded his arms across his chest. ‘Is everything alright? I haven't heard much about this job but so far it's pretty much been all negative.’

‘Oh, I do love it, honestly I-’

‘Why would you even try lying to me? You know I can always tell.’

You couldn’t help cracking a slight smile at his smug expression. He was right, the last time you’d managed to successfully lie to him was in first grade when you told him you didn’t know where his crayon sharpener had gone, knowing full well it was stashed in your pocket.

‘It's just a lot.’ You rubbed your forehead exasperatedly. ‘Apart from the few hours of sleep I get each night, I'm pretty much constantly working. You asked earlier if it was worth it and, to be honest, I really don’t know.’

He nodded faintly, dropping his cigarette and crushing it under his foot, before opening his arms towards you.

‘C'mere.’

You didn't hesitate. Launching yourself towards him, you let him enclose you, squeezing your eyes shut and wrapping your arms around his neck.

‘You'll figure it out.’ He mumbled into your neck. ‘You always do.’

‘Thank you, Buck.’

After a minute or so, you both pulled away slightly, stopping when you came face to face. A lot of things about home had slipped your mind whilst you’d been away, but you’d never forgotten how gazing into Bucky’s piercing blue eyes made you feel. 

That feeling had never changed, and you were sure it never would.

You dropped your hands to rest on his shoulders, your eyebrows shooting up when you noticed how rock-hard they were. ‘Jesus, Buck. I’ve only been gone for two years, have you been at the gym that whole time?’

‘Nope, just been working hard at the garage.’ What absolute bullshit. ‘But feel free to keep the compliments coming.’

You smirked and feebly shoved him away, turning to head back inside but stopping suddenly before taking a step. ‘Oh, you better pick that cigarette butt up or my mom will go ape shit.’

‘Good call.’

You slipped through the back door, passing his jacket back when he followed you in. The two of you couldn’t have been out there for more than a few minutes, but it seemed as though the crowd inside had really started thinning out.

Bucky’s parents strolled over when they spotted him, informing him of their intent to leave pretty soon too, so he gave you a long hug goodbye and made you promise that you'd see each other again before the end of the holidays.

The two of you had parted on a good note, which was all you’d wanted going into the party, but now you found that you were pretty keen to squeeze as many more good notes out of these next few days as you could. 

It was probably best not to delve too deeply into the feelings behind that sentiment. So you didn’t. 

You helped your parents tidy up, your eyelids drooping as the exhaustion from a long day of travelling and socialising finally set in. Just as you were about to head upstairs, your mother piped up, using her expertly crafted trying to appear casual despite being really very invested in what I’m asking tone.

‘It must've been nice seeing Bucky again.’

‘Oh yeah, definitely.’

‘He must've changed quite a bit since you were here last.’

You chuckled to yourself. ‘Physically, yeah, but he's still the same goofy dumbass he's always been.’

‘It's always a treat when he pops round, he's such a nice boy.’ A suspicious eyebrow crept up your forehead. ‘And he's still single y'know, he hasn't-’

‘Alright. That's my cue to go to bed.’

Your dad strolled over and gave you a firm pat on the back. ‘Good idea, sweetheart. Get out while you still can.’

‘Thank you. It's nice having one sane parent.’

‘Although, I do have to say, he has been very good to us since-’

‘Dad!’ He raised his arms in surrender, using one hand to zip up his mouth. ‘Lord help me. Goodnight, crazies.’

You quickly escaped up the stairs. Stumbling into your room and pulling on your pyjamas, you collapsed onto your bed, burying your face in the pillows and letting out a long, exhausted sign.

As you drifted off to sleep, all the stress of the day melted away, leaving a single thought to echo around your mind.

You’d really overestimated how over Bucky you were.

---

Part 2

---

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---

[synchlora]

I Promise

major warnings here, please heed them. there is lots of blood, major injury, and self-harm. also mentions of suicide, alcohol, and past abuse, both physical and emotional.

time period is in the days just after tubbo discovers where he believes tommy killed himself. so just as exile was ending basically

-----

It could’ve been a bird.

The cry that echoed throughout the SMP wasn’t entirely distinct. Could’ve been anything honestly. It was loud, it was unidentifiable, and it came from the general direction of the graveyard.

That was all Quackity knew when he set out from his home. He had been working on paperwork for L’manburg, staying up long after his fiances, with the whispered promise he’d join them in their cozy bed once he was finished.

But something was up. Something that he wasn’t willing-- or was far too curious-- to ignore. He's not one to be superstitious, but a shriek coming from a graveyard isn't exactly something you can sleep on after hearing. So he left the warmth of his home and headed out to the graveyard, armed only with a lantern and a healthy fear of what he may encounter.

The night is chilly and the crisp autumn wind bites at face as he makes his way towards the source of the call. He holds his lantern close, trying to convince himself the tiny flame can provide some semblance of warmth. Looking to the screensaver of his fiances on his communicator, he suddenly wishes he were back at home snuggled under the covers with them.

But as he walks down the path to the graveyard, he can instantly tell something’s wrong. The ground ahead of him is dark and stained in some places. Feeling his heart beginning to pound with dread, he approaches the parts of the path that have been discolored. Lowering his lantern to the ground, his heart sinks as red fills his vision.

The pathway is covered in a trail of blood.

Holding his hand to his mouth to stifle a gasp-- and maybe also to choke back the bile that rises in his throat-- he follows the trail back to one gravestone in particular. The normally grey stone is stained with red, a spattered pattern of fresh blood now accenting the bold name etched into the granite.

Tommy.

And in an instant he knows exactly whose blood it is.

Feeling sick with concern, he nearly trips over his own feet hurrying back down the path to follow the blood leading out the gates. He knows it has to be Tubbo’s, no one else visits Tommy’s grave nearly as much. No one else visits Tommy’s grave at all. But he can’t bring himself to imagine what happened. Doesn’t want to imagine the young president with such an injury that would cause this much bloodshed.

Even as the trail ends at Tommy’s old house, he’s still in denial of the situation.

Bursting through the doors of Tommy’s old home, he sees Tubbo standing in the corner, shakily holding an axe to the base of an already-bleeding horn. It's skewed at an awkward angle and it takes Quackity a moment to see the cause of that unnatural turn. Covered in fresh, red blood, there’s a deep gash at its base. He meets the eyes of Tubbo and frantically begins to speak.

"What the hell happened?" his eyes are flickering over the scene before him as he tries to process what’s going on.

Tubbo looks at him, unblinking, shaking as he moves the axe away from his own skull. He glances to the blood-soaked hand holding the hatchet and looks up to the man standing in the doorway. With a sudden fervor that was not in his form moments prior, he shoves the axe forward, holding it out to Quackity.

"Can you fix me?"

"What?" Quackity stands back for only a moment of confusion before snapping back to the present moment. He has one goal right now: protect Tubbo.

He lunges forwards and quickly takes the axe from the young boy's hand, discarding it on the floor behind him. Tubbo frowns as the axe clatters to the ground and he looks up to Quackity, desperation now painting his features.

"Please make me stop being Schlatt."

Quackity’s breath is gone in an instant.

"What??" Quackity once again voices his obvious confusion, stepping closer to Tubbo and feeling his stomach lurch at the sight of his mangled horn. "What do you mean?"

"I don't want to be like him," a sob escapes the boy's mouth as he babbles on, "I’m becoming him and I don't want that to happen."

There’s fear in the horned boy’s eyes, genuine concern laced with the sharp pain that he is no doubt feeling.

And Quackity is livid.

Not angry at the small figure before him, no. He is instead enraged at the memories of sharp teeth and whiskey-tinged breath. Enraged at the thought of his old mentor, the man who he watched kill the boy in front of him without hesitation or remorse. The echoes of a shouting voice fill his ears as he takes a deep breath and tries to calm himself.

How could Tubbo ever think he was anything like Schlatt? Schlatt was a monster, a cruel man who wanted nothing but to hurt others. Tubbo is just a kid. A young president who was caught in the crossfire, forced to make decisions no man, much less a child, should ever have to make.

And he can’t let Tubbo convince himself that he’s even a fraction of that evil.

Kneeling down to his height, he holds out a hand to the younger and gets his attention back from staring at the bloody axe behind him. Tubbo looks to him, eyes glassy and not seeming to fully take in the situation he’s in.

"You are nothing like him, Tubbo, okay?" there’s a stern assuredness to his voice that he’s never had before, "No matter what, I know you could never be who Schlatt was."

He offers out an arm for the younger to accept. He quickly does, falling weakly into a hug before whimpering in pain at the movement of his severed horn. Quackity cringes upon hearing Tubbo cry out, tears welling in his eyes just at the sight of the kid he sees as a younger brother in pain. He has to get his horn fixed and fast, there’s no time for--

“I exiled him,” Tubbo quietly speaks through broken sobs, voice building into a shout, “I exiled him and now he’s dead and-- and-- and it’s all because of me!”

Tubbo cries and pushes himself away from the hug. Quackity’s heart aches as Tubbo shrinks away from him, curling himself into the corner of the room. He’s hyperventilating now, whole body shaking as he cries, though Quackity can’t tell if it’s from pain or grief.

“Tubbo…” Quackity cautiously approaches him and sits down a few feet away, “There’s-- you couldn’t have known what Dream would do to him--”

“I should have!” his voice is hoarse with tears as he screams at the older. Wincing at the pain the sudden exertion of anger causes, he crumples in on himself and hugs his knees to his chest continuing to sob.

“He’s my best friend,” Tubbo’s voice is hardly audible as sobs catch him in his mistake, “was…”

Tubbo nearly falls over, Quackity catching him before he fully faints.

“You never should’ve had to make that decision,” Quackity shifts to help Tubbo sit up better before continuing, “That’s the difference between you and Schlatt.”

At this Tubbo looks up, puzzled.

“Schlatt would take any chance to hurt others but you... you can’t bear that pain even when forced to make those choices.” Quackity gently rubs reassuring circles on Tubbo’s back, “you are not a cruel person.”

Tubbo tries to speak, though he instead simply shudders as his voice trails off. He feels physically weaker, now hardly sitting up on his own, much less able to continue speaking. The only words that leave his mouth now are incomprehensible ramblings about a pillar and an island that Quackity has never heard of before.

He’s bleeding badly, the wound to his horn gushing blood readily and staining his face and clothes as it continues to bleed profusely. He has to get that blood to stop before he loses too much.

Quackity shifts slightly to get a better look at it, feeling himself get dizzy at the sight of so much red. He can see that Tubbo took one solid swing at it but it didn't cut cleanly through. There's still a portion of horn holding on in vain to the rest of it. A tiny, cracking bridge between the base and curling end.

The base of his horn is where it’s bleeding. He’ll have to get some bandaging and hold pressure there to get it to finally stop. But god, it’s an awkward angle with that piece of horn and there’s no way he can manage to keep steady pressure with it in the way.

Quackity’s heart sinks as he realizes what he needs to do.

He'll have to break it off.

There's no way he'll be able to get the rest of it to stop bleeding with that portion of his horn in the way. It’d be impossible to hold pressure on the wound with it there. And if he doesn’t, well. He’d rather not think about that outcome.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, though the sight of blood doesn't leave his mind. Regaining his composure, he shrinks away from Tubbo slightly. Tubbo mumbles something through his delirious state, though Q can't tell what it is. He sits up and places a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder to get his more direct attention. Tubbo looks up.

“I--" he's not sure how to even begin to phrase this, "I need to clean up your wound and stop the bleeding."

Tubbo nods along, wincing at even the slight movement.

“But in order to do that I've got to…” Quackity clenches his teeth hard. This isn't going to be easy, "I have to break off the rest of your horn."

Tubbo flinches at this proposition despite himself. He was the one begging Q to cut it off only minutes before. Why is he feeling so resistant now? He’s why they’re in this situation to begin with, why his view is filled with red and his mind is buzzing with pain. He wanted this.

But now he’s afraid. The pain has caught up with him and his mind is reeling with thoughts of survival before anything else. And oh god, is he going to die? Is Quackity going to be the last person to see him as the light drains from his eyes? Better Quackity than Tommy, he supposes, though it’s not like it’d even be possible for Tommy to see him now. He blinks a few tears from his eyes as he pictures the cold stone of his friend’s grave.

Tommy wouldn’t want you to die.

With what little energy he has left, he lets out a quiet, raspy yes.

Quackity nods and pulls him into yet another hug. Tubbo weariy obliges, weakly wrapping his arms around the older’s back and letting his tears soak into his shirt.

“You want me to count down?” Quackity’s voice is practically a whisper, feeling as though if he speaks too loudly it’ll somehow shatter the fragile thing that is Tubbo in this moment.

Tubbo nods lightly into his chest before sitting back and wiping tears from his own face. It doesn’t do much more than smudge more blood across his eyes. Looking defeatedly up to Quackity he says one more thing.

"Please just--. Just make sure no one hears me?"

Quackity feels his heart break at the request. Tubbo, despite it all, still doesn't want to be a bother to anyone. Despite being on death’s door, despite all of the pain he’s in, he still worries his problems will only burden others.

And despite how much it pains Quackity to do so, he agrees to muffle his cries.

"I promise."

Nodding to the younger, he gently kneels in front of him. Placing one hand to keep his horn steady, he gently grips the mangled end of it. The sight alone is just about enough to make him puke, but he bites back the bile that threatens to rise up his throat. Taking a deep breath, he starts to count down.

"Three," he feels Tubbo tense his shoulders but quickly regain his faked composure. He’s trying to breathe in calm patterns to little avail.

"Two," Quackity can feel his own hands slick with blood and questions whether or not he can stomach hurting Tubbo, even if it helps him in the long run. Gods, this is horrible.

He takes a deep breath.

"One," he sharply pulls his hand back, gripping the end of the horn. A sickening crack fills the air and Quackity feels the horn break from the base. As soon as he sees that the horn is fully detached, he tosses it across the room and in one swift motion, hands still covered in blood, he wraps his arms around Tubbo and pulls him in close.

He has to keep his promise.

While the citizens of L'manburg and the Dream SMP alike may not have heard Tubbo, Quackity will never be able to get his shriek out of his head. Never forget how tightly Tubbo clung to the back of his shirt, never lose the scarring of etched fingernail imprints the younger left on his arms, never clean off all of the blood that cakes the indents in his communicator’s keys as he shakily called for someone-- anyone-- to come help him. But he keeps it to himself.

He can’t break his promise.

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

If you're still taking prompts you should do some rebuke and hurt/comfort!!

Sorry this took so long, but luckily there's a lot of it!! Hope you enjoy!

This is part of my All Too Well Splinterverse series, so a direct sequel to something about it felt like home somehow, cause there we are again in the middle of the night, and so casually cruel in the name of being honest. It won't make much sense if you haven't read all three of those.

read on ao3 here!

--

Bobby gives it three days. Three days where he catches up on missing homework and takes his antibiotics and a lot of naps and feels like a terrible person. And then he calls Luke.

“I fucked up,” he says the second Mrs. Patterson passes over the phone, without so much as bothering to say hello.

“Whoa, uh, okay,” Luke says, and coughs a little awkwardly. “Did you cheat on me or something? Are we breaking up? Cause if we’re breaking up, you gotta at least give me twenty minutes to get over there; no way in hell am I letting you dump me over the phone.”

“No! What? No.” Bobby’s out in the studio for some privacy; he sits up on the couch and runs a hand through his hair, grips the cordless phone a little tighter. “This has nothing to do with you! I fucked up with Reggie.”

“Reggie?” Luke repeats. “Dude, what’d you do? Kick a puppy or something?”

Bobby lets out a sigh that’s really more of a groan. To be fair, he probably could’ve started this conversation with just a tiny bit of context. “ No. I just… I think I hurt his feelings.”

Luke’s quiet for a really long time, in that thoughtful, pensive way he usually only gets when he’s writing a song. It’s usually accompanied by a lot of bouncing and fidgeting, because Luke gets restless easily, and if he can’t expel energy through his mouth, he’s gotta let it out some other way or he’ll implode. It almost brings a smile to Bobby’s lips, just thinking about it. Finally, Luke says, “Can I come over?”

Despite himself, Bobby’s stomach flips at the question. He and Luke have talked almost every day in the last week or so, but they haven’t actually seen each other in person since Luke got out of the hospital. They’ve both been too sick, and then Luke’s been trying to stay home as much as he can, build some trust back up with his mom.

“I might be contagious still,” Bobby warns him, rubbing absently at his chest. “No fever since the day before yesterday, but I’ve still got this cough I can’t shake.”

Luke scoffs, like he knows just as well as Bobby how lame an excuse that is. “Bro, I’m pretty sure I can’t catch the cold I gave you. If you’re not ready, I get it, but… whatever happened with Reggie, I think it’d be easier if we talk face to face.”

Luke pauses, then adds, “Plus, you know… I really do want to see you.”

Bobby has to swallow past a piercing ray of sunshine shooting through his stomach. “I want to see you, too. Okay, come on over, just know my mom’s probably gonna fuss over you.”

“Yeah, well, the last time she saw me, I was unconscious and dying, so I can’t exactly blame her.”

A smile tugs at Bobby’s lips. He and Luke may have gotten together under the strangest circumstances— and “together” is still sort of a loose term; mostly, they’ve just made out a couple times and Luke gave Bobby bronchitis— but at least they have each other now. More than that, even— they both have their families back.

“Think your mom will be cool?” Bobby checks. “With you coming over, I mean? I know she’s been keeping you on kind of a tight leash. And I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“She’s barely met you,” Luke points out.

“Yeah, and the one time she did, she called me a kidnapper. And something in French that you refuse to translate.”

“Purely for your own good.” Luke’s teasing grin is audible, even over the phone. “Listen, Bobbers, that was an emotional day for us all, and Emily Patterson is hardly well-known for being calm and rational under stressful circumstances. But once I sat her down and explained everything to her, I think the ‘saved me from dying’ thing made up for the ‘hid me in your garage for two months’ thing. She likes you just fine.”

Bobby’s not entirely sure he believes him, but there’s no point in pushing it. “Well, if you need me to come over there instead, just let me know.” He starts to swing his legs off the couch, bending over to search for his shoes, but has to pause to cough into his elbow a few times, his chest twinging.

“Half an hour,” Luke insists. “And drink some tea while you wait for me, I don’t like that you’re still coughing.”

Bobby grumbles noncommittally, lays back down on the couch. “Just get over here, Patterson. I can’t deal with your mother henning over the phone.”

Luke breathes out a laugh, and it might just be the most beautiful sound Bobby’s ever heard. “Love you, too, baby.”

***

Luke hangs up the phone and immediately takes stock of himself.

The last week, living back at home with his mom and dad again, has not been nearly as bad as he thought it would be. Maybe he’s gotten more patient since running away from home. Maybe his parents have gotten a little more perspective. Maybe all three of them just needed a few months apart and a serious wake-up call to start seeing things through each other’s eyes.

Whatever the reason, Luke and his mom haven’t fought once since he moved back home, and his dad even told Luke he’d like to come to one of his shows once Sunset Curve starts playing again. They’ve had to establish a lot of new boundaries, the three of them, and quite a few ground rules— if Luke weren’t sick, he’d be in trouble, his mom said, but she thought his hospital stay and cracked ribs were punishment enough— but so far things have been good. And Luke would very much like to keep them that way.

So, he stands in front of the bathroom mirror and takes a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth. The breath is free of congestion, doesn’t make him cough or hurt his ribs anymore. His face is a little red— purely just because talking to Bobby these days makes him blush like crazy— so he splashes some cool water on his face and waits until the flush fades from his cheeks before he heads out to the living room.

Emily’s sitting on the couch with her knitting, an old episode of The Brady Bunch playing low on the TV. She looks up and smiles when he enters, and Luke’s skin crawls a little. She gets this look on her face sometimes, when she looks at him now. Like she can’t believe how lucky she is. Like she still sort of expects to wake up and find she’s lost him. Again.

It makes Luke feel all sorts of guilty.

“Off the phone?” she asks him, a little redundantly, as he hands over the cordless. “How’s Robert?”

“Bobby’s feeling better,” Luke says honestly. He sticks his thumbs through his belt loops and rocks back and forth on his heels, standing awkwardly in front of the couch. “Can I go to his tonight? Something happened between him and Reggie, I was gonna help him out.”

Emily frowns, but doesn’t outright refuse, or accuse him of lying so that he can go out and play a club or something, like she might have three months ago. Maybe she really does trust him more now, or maybe she just likes Reggie enough to put aside her suspicions, but all she says is, “How are you feeling?”

Luke takes another slow breath, letting her hear how it doesn’t so much as catch in his throat. “No cough, no fever. Ribs only hurt when I get out of breath, but I’ll bike slowly, and we won’t be playing or anything. I’ll leave my guitars here, even.”

He sees it in his mom’s expression— the trust in him, the complete and utter belief she has that he’s telling her the truth. It’s something he might’ve taken advantage of, before. But for the first time in his life, he has absolutely no desire to lie to her.

Emily gently lays her knitting down on the coffee table in front of her and gestures Luke forward, stretching out a hand. He obediently leans down to let her brush his fringe aside and feel his forehead.

She hums approvingly a moment later and lets him go. “Ask your father to drive you. Will you be home for dinner, or are you spending the night?”

“I’m not sure,” Luke says, “but I’ll call around five either way?”

“Perfect.” She gives him that smile again— that look — and Luke turns away before he can think too hard about how much he doesn’t deserve it.

His dad is quiet on the drive over, but he lets Luke fiddle with the radio and kick his feet up on the dashboard, and doesn’t protest when Luke rolls the window up and down every five minutes. He parks the car in Bobby’s driveway, right outside the studio, but doesn’t shut the engine off. Something tells Luke to linger an extra moment or two before getting out.

“You need any money?” Mitch asks, finally.

No, but I’ll take some, Luke would’ve said, before, and then probably blown it on junk food or guitar picks or something. Instead, he shakes his head, leg bouncing, says, “Nah, dad, we’re just gonna be talking.”

Mitch nods and leans forward to peer through the windshield up at the studio. Luke follows his gaze. He can only imagine what his dad must be thinking: So this is where my son was living for two months because he didn’t feel safe at home.

“I’ll call home to let you know when to pick me up,” Luke says, desperate to fill the silence, and reaches for the door handle. “See you later, Dad.”

He catches half a glimpse of his father’s face as he heads up the drive: Mitch looks pensive and sad, and at least twenty years older than he really is.

Luke drags in a breath, and tries not to feel too guilty.

He’s barely rapped his knuckles against the studio door when it’s yanked open from the inside and Luke gets a faceful of t-shirt as Bobby tugs him into a strong-armed hug.

“Hey!” Luke laughs breathlessly. “I missed you, too.”

Bobby presses his face into Luke’s neck, tightening his hold. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, baby.” Luke rubs his back, trying to follow his instincts without getting too self-conscious. He hasn’t seen Bobby in a while, and somehow using pet names and terms of endearment was easier over the phone. Holding him and letting himself be held was easier when he was sick and hurting and had an easy excuse. But he doesn’t want Bobby to think Luke loves him any less, or that Luke’s ashamed of him or something, just because they’re both healthy.

Still. “We should get inside,” he murmurs, lips pressed into Bobby’s hair. “My dad’s kinda sitting in his car watching us, and I can feel him getting uncomfortable.”

Bobby snorts, his shoulders shaking under Luke’s touch. But then he nods and pulls away, swiping the back of his hand across his face; Luke thinks he catches the glisten of tears.

Inside the studio, with the doors shut tight and the sound of Luke’s dad’s car disappearing down the street, Luke sits Bobby down on the couch and says, “So. Reggie.”

Bobby’s quiet as he tells the story, his head ducked low and his hands clasped tightly between his legs. Luke keeps a hand on Bobby’s back, rubbing gentle circles as he listens to Bobby talk.

When he goes quiet, Luke takes a minute to breathe and think, before he carefully summarizes, “So… Reggie’s mad at you cause you didn’t wanna tell Alex about your headaches?”

“Reggie’s mad at me,” Bobby corrects, his voice breathy with exhaustion, “because I didn’t wanna tell him either. If he hadn’t caught me in the middle of one, I probably wouldn’t have said anything at all.”

“How come?” Luke tries for gentle, but he’s not sure he quite makes the mark. “You had no trouble telling me.”

“You’re easy,” Bobby grumbles. “I didn’t exactly have to try hard to make a good first impression. Doesn’t matter so much if you think I’m weak.”

“And it does with Reggie?” He doesn’t bother asking about Alex. Luke loves the guy, but he knows better than anyone how bitey and judgmental Alex can get. How slow to trust. Luke doesn’t much love showing weakness in front of Alex either. But Reggie… “Bro, Reggie just wants to be helpful. He’d care that you’re hurting, not that you weren’t totally together all the time. He wouldn’t think you’re weak.” He adds as an afterthought, “...and Alex would get over it.”

Bobby huffs out a laugh. He chokes on it, then turns away from Luke to cough into his fist. Luke rubs his back, feeling the tremors that the coughing fit causes, and winces in sympathy as Bobby takes a slow breath and rubs his chest like it hurts. Luke knows the feeling.

Acting on instinct, Luke reaches over and brushes Bobby’s hair back, pressing a palm to his forehead. He doesn’t feel warm, thank god, but he still leans into the touch, his eyes closing in relief, even as he mumbles, “Told you, I don’t have a fever.”

“I know,” Luke says softly, and really means, I’m sorry. “You want my advice, about Reggie?”

Bobby gives a tiny nod, makes a soft whining sound in the back of his throat that Luke is pretty sure is supposed to be a yes.

“You don’t have to try so hard. Reggie and Alex both, they… they want to be your friends. You just gotta let them.” He runs his hand through Bobby’s hair in slow, gentle strokes. “And with Reggie, a sincere apology goes a long way.”

Bobby nods again and slumps over to lay his head on Luke’s shoulder. “I’ll call him in the morning. For tonight…” Luke feels him tense, but when Bobby lifts his eyes to Luke’s, they’re open and vulnerable and honest, as he says, “Will you stay?”

Luke’s heart does a happy little flip-flop inside his chest. “Of course I will.” He presses a kiss to Bobby’s head and reluctantly pushes himself up off the couch. “Lemme just go call my folks and let them know I’m sleeping over. If I’m not back in ten, assume your mom’s kidnapped me to test out that aromatherapy treatment she kept going on about. And I’m bringing you tea.”

Bobby protests out of principle, calls him a nuisance, and a worrywart and a nag, but Luke feels Bobby’s smile on his back all the way out the door.

***

Reggie drops his bike along the wall beneath the Pattersons’ front window and skips up to the door, swallowing back the nerves drying his throat before quickly jabbing his finger against the doorbell.

Its chime echoes long and loud, enough that it makes Reggie flinch, makes him pick at his fingers and start to think that maybe coming here wasn't the best idea after all.

Because Luke’s still recovering. Luke’s got a boyfriend now. Luke shouldn’t have to spend time and energy worrying about Reggie and all his problems.

But before Reggie can turn around and leave, the door opens, and Luke’s mom smiles at him.

“Reginald! How are you, dear?”

“Very well, thank you!” Reggie smiles politely, bouncing on his heels a little. “How are you, Mrs. P?”

“I’m just fine, Reginald.” She leans against the doorway, her expression turning a little amused. “Did you need something, dear? Luke’s not home.”

“Oh, he’s not?” Reggie’s heart sinks. He clears his throat a little. “Um, is he… do you know when he’ll be back?”

“Probably not until morning. He’s staying at Robert’s tonight.”

“He’s sleeping over?” he repeats, surprised. Mitch and Emily Patterson don’t seem like the kind of parents who’d be particularly chill about their son spending the night at his boyfriend’s house.

It only then occurs to Reggie that maybe they don’t know Bobby is Luke’s boyfriend…

“I have the phone number,” Mrs. Patterson says, oblivious to Reggie’s conundrum, “if you needed to get in touch with Luke.”

“Oh. Oh, no, it’s okay.” Reggie fixes his smile back into place, swallows thick disappointment. “I’ll head over to Bobby’s, or… or I’ll catch Luke another time. Thanks, Mrs. P!”

He thinks she might start to say something else, but Reggie doesn’t hang around to listen. He scoops up his bike and disappears down the drive, pedaling as hard as he can so the adrenaline will overtake his complex jumble of emotions.

He shouldn’t bother Luke. He doesn’t really need him. He’d just been lonely, and his parents were fighting, and getting out of the house seemed like a really good idea at the time. Plus, he’s been sulking for days now since he yelled at Bobby, and Luke somehow always knows how to cheer Reggie up, even if Reggie wasn’t exactly planning on telling him what’s wrong.

But Luke’s with Bobby. Reggie can’t interrupt them. Luke will almost undoubtedly be mad at Reggie if he finds out Reggie shouted at his boyfriend. Bobby’s probably mad at him already.

As far as Reggie knows, Bobby might just turn him away on sight. Before Reggie even has half a chance to apologize.

Despite this thought process, Reggie’s bike skids to a stop on familiar concrete, bringing him to the realization that he rode to the studio without even thinking about it.

One of the doors has been left open. He can smell popcorn and spices carried out on the wind. He can hear Luke’s laughter, Bobby coughing, a Rolling Stones album playing softly in the background.

It makes Reggie’s throat feel tight, makes it hurt to breathe. He’s so… lonely. He wants what they have, and knows he can’t get it.

He should just go home.

He starts to turn away, but Luke’s voice stops him, calling, “Reg, hey! What are you doing here, man?”

Reggie swallows and awkwardly turns back to face the studio, where Luke’s lounging in the doorway grinning at him, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes. Reggie manages a tiny smile of his own that he can only hope is convincing. “Hey, Luke. You, uh… your mom told me you’d be here.”

Reggie starts to add, But I should probably just go, but the words die on his tongue when Bobby appears over Luke’s shoulder, looking pale and tired, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders up at his ears.

“Hey, Reg,” Bobby says, low and gruff.

Reggie swallows, his hands tightening their grip around the handlebars of his bike. “I just… I wanted to talk to Luke?” he says simply, which isn’t totally a lie. “But I can go… if I’m not welcome.”

“What?” Bobby’s expression crumples, and he pushes past Luke to step forward, toward Reggie. “Reg, no, I— of course you’re welcome here. You’re always—” He breaks off, glancing over his shoulder at Luke, who gestures encouragingly. Bobby sighs and turns back, squaring his shoulders. “Reggie, I need to apologize to you. Again.”

Reggie gapes, baffled. “Wha— I— Bobby, no, I should be apologizing to you!”

“Me? Why?”

“Cause I yelled at you.”

“Yeah, but you were right!” Bobby takes another step forward, close enough that he can reach out a hand to hover over Reggie’s, still gripping tight to his handlebars. “Reggie, I’m not good at asking for help. I’m not used to being seen as weak and not having that be a bad thing. But I’m done lying, and I’m done hiding things. You’ve been nothing but kind to me, Reg. And I do want to be your friend.” He takes a deep breath, shoots Luke another quick look, and then says softly, “I’m gonna start being better, Reggie. I promise. I’m so sorry I ever made you feel like I didn’t trust you. Like I didn’t like you. I do. I really do.”

Reggie’s left speechless, and a little choked. He stands there for a few moments, his mouth working but no sound coming out, and stares at Luke and Bobby both, searching their faces for any hint of a sign from either of them that Bobby’s kidding or making fun of him.

Reggie knows Bobby doesn’t mean it— liking him — the way Reggie wants him to, the way Reggie likes him back. But it still puts a lump in his throat, to hear Bobby say it at all — Bobby who never admits to liking anyone!

Reggie doesn’t realize he’s started crying until he tastes salt on his lips and Luke bounds forward to pull Reggie into his arms. That seems to break the floodgates open, then; Reggie lets his bike fall to the concrete with a clatter, buries his face in Luke’s shirt, and sobs.

Luke doesn’t ask why he’s crying, or tell him to stop. He just holds Reggie tight, and when Reggie chokes out, “I was just so lonely, ” whispers, Shh, it’s okay, I know.

Somehow, they end up inside the studio on the folded-out couch. Luke gently pushes Reggie to lie down in the middle, and then immediately climbs in next to him, pulling a mountain of blankets over them both.

After a few moments of awkward hesitation, Bobby joins them on Reggie’s other side, lowering himself gently onto the mattress and curling up so that Reggie feels his warmth without them actually touching.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” Reggie gasps out, his tears starting to slow.

“I wish you’d do it more often.” Bobby gives him a tiny smile and slowly slides his hand into Reggie’s. “You can’t get rid of me, man. I got you.”

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @teenagedirtbag-dot-jpeg @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @shrimp-colours @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @molinapattersons @julieandthequeers @joyandthephantoms @it-tastes-like-lizard @jatpfs

[onlyhereforangst]

Help isn't coming + Sky/Riven? pretty plss

If he listened to his pathetic, whiny grumbling one more time he was going to lose it. Absolutely go ballistic, take no prisoners on his ass.

And with a wry chuckle he realized the irony in that thought.

Take no prisoners… Like they weren’t already fucking prisoners.

“How the fuck are you laughing right now, mate?” The scathing disbelief and slight question of sanity clearly evident in his voice.

Not even bothering to turn and face his so-called best mate, he answered through clenched teeth, “because it’s funny, it’s fucking funny, Sky.”

Riven went back to body-slamming the very apparent bolted shut door as if that was going to get them out of the tiny four by four room they were in.

Yeah he’d already taken note of the lack of airflow, and yeah he’d calculated the remaining oxygen they’d both have. So yeah call him desperate at this point to get the fuck out of there.

A quality Sky somehow did not possess, and instead decided he was going for wallowing in self-pity.

Riven let out another ironic chuckle.

So much for golden boy being helpful, he thought bitterly knowing he didn’t truly mean it, but he still couldn’t help the thought cross his mind.

He could practically hear Sky rolling his eyes from behind his back. The deadpanned, “What the fuck is funny now?” completely predictable.

Riven slowly pivoted, bringing him way too close to Sky’s irritated and irritating face. “You, Sky. You’re funny,” Riven deadpanned right back.

Sky folded his arms, that little son of a bitch flexing them too like he could intimidate Riven. His brow furrowed as he just stared at Riven questioningly. Almost like he sincerely wasn’t sure of his sanity—they had been stuck in this room for approximately ten hours at this point.

A piqued eyebrow from Sky had Riven spitting out a retort he knew he’d regret later, “I just find it funny that our next best leader—“ Riven laid on the sarcasm, dripping with every word, “can’t even find it in himself to man the fuck up, quit his bitching, and do something.” Riven looked at him hard in the eye before he added under his breath, “Even your prissy little girlfriend would’ve fucking done something by now.”

To his credit, Sky’s jaw didn’t lax, nor did it tighten. His expression remained unnervingly steady. Like Riven hadn’t just insulted him, insulted his girlfriend, insulted their friendship and trust.

Fucking figures.

When Sky continued to be mute, Riven set his own jaw and turned back to the godforsaken door that was their only hope at survival. He geared himself up for another futile body slam, alternating to his other shoulder since he was pretty damn sure he’d dislocated his “good” shoulder the last time he hit the door.

Milliseconds before launching his entire body weight into the steel door, he heard Sky finally eek out a rebuttal, “At least my girlfriend isn’t the goddamn sociopath that put us in here.”

Riven hit the door with a echoing thump and a simultaneous crack as his focus faltered just enough at Sky’s insinuation.

For fuck’s sake, two separated shoulders.

Bending over in pain but refusing to show Sky that, Riven grimaced and bit his tongue till he tasted blood.

Through gritted teeth he replied, “She. Is not. My girlfriend.”

Riven thought back too when Beatrix discarded him like yesterday’s news once she’d pumped him dry of useful intel and manipulation. Sky knew the depression Riven had fallen into, he knew it.

So yeah calling Bloom prissy had been a low blow and insulting Sky’s character may have been a touch too far, but damn Sky really went for the throat when provoked didn’t he?

His resolve and determination started to crumble as Sky’s words mulled over in his head. Riven felt his shoulders droop as he unfolded at the waist. Still facing that damned door, Riven swallowed over the dry lump in his throat.

He felt Sky’s hand on his shoulder and audibly winced at the pain. Sky dropped his hand at the noise but soldiered on with a much calmer tone, “There’s nothing to do- we’ve got ten minutes left of oxygen—“ turned out Sky’d calculated, too— “and that door isn’t budging. We’ve got nothing, no one knows we’re here, help isn’t coming, Riv.”

When he heard his friend- his brother- the strongest man he knew, crack on the last word, his name, any trace of hope left this banged up body.

He thought back to the one person who’d always shone hope into his life. Brightened his day with just a simple smile and a witty remark. Two bouncing space buns atop royal purple flashing eyes always filled with a certain spark. The spark that always warmed him and hugged him in hope.

He’d never feel it again, no one was coming for them.

Not Bloom. Not Musa.

Fuck, how he wished he could have that cloud of vibrant hope wrap around him once more.

Two more minutes, now.

Riven felt lightheaded at the lack of oxygen.

One more minute.

The hypoxic hallucination taking over, a soft, heated hug gripped his arms and caressed his cheek. A glimmer of hope wiped away the single tear that escaped from his heavy eyes.

Right as his knees gave way and his body crumpled to the ground atop the unmoving heap of Sky, Riven felt the cloud of hope whisper, “you can rest now.”

[mlm-writer]

Outercourse (Dino x M!Reader)

Kinktober Day 17: First Time

Pairing: Bottom Lee Chan (Dino) x Top Male Reader (NOT trans-friendly) Rating: Explicit Words: 1750 Summary: First times aren’t meant to go as planned, but when things don’t go as planned, Chan thinks he failed you. You show him there is more than one way to have sex.  Note: I am taking kinktober as a chance to educate the kids, since school forgets gay people exist. Before anal sex, you really need to clean yourself or it just gets nasty. Learn all about cleaning here. Also yes, I know, late again, but at least I am fully up to date with The Boys. Tags: First time, outercouse, blowjob, handjob, frotting, established relationship and fuffy sex  

You looked around your room. Suddenly the posters on the wall seemed weird. Suddenly, the desk seemed really untidy, even though you cleaned your entire room for today. Your head perked up when you heard your phone chime. You reached for it on the bedside table, your eyes briefly caught on the lube and condoms that were also there. Your heart pounded when you saw it was from your boyfriend. ‘I don’t think I can do this,’ the Line message said. You frowned and tossed the phone onto the bed, before getting up and making your way to the bathroom. You saw it was still locked and knocked gently on the door. “Channie? Baby?” You got no response. “Listen, if you want to wait with doing this, I’m not mad. It is ok to get cold feet at the last moment. Really, we can just rewatch some old Gag Con episodes and cuddle.” 

You heard a sniff from inside, worrying you further. “I don’t have cold feet,” you heard your boyfriend’s small voice inside the bathroom. “I just… I messed up.” You heard him cry and placed your hand on the doorknob, before remembering it was locked. 

“Please open the door. I came here to help you, Channie, with whatever you need.” You waited, then heard the lock slowly turn. You slowly opened the door, coming eye-to-eye with your boyfriend. He was wrapped in the biggest towel you head, eyes red and puffy and his hair damp. You pulled him into your arms and hugged him. “Hey, what’s wrong? Why have you been crying?” You asked gently, petting his damp hair. 

He just started crying again. “I’m sorry, I messed up, I’m sorry. I…” You shushed him, bringing him back into the bathroom, ignoring the lingering smell of feces in the air. You kicked the toilet cover down with one foot and sat your boyfriend down on it. 

“Hey, stop apologising, I’m not mad. What’s wrong?” You rubbed his bare arms as he held the towel tight against his body, as if afraid it would fall off. 

“The water,” he sniffed, “isn’t clear.” He cried, looking so distressed. “And your shower is dirty.” You nodded, patting his knee, and walked over to the shower, seeing some brown chunks around the drain. You grabbed the showerhead and put it in jet mode. You squished some of your shampoo on the floor, giving your shower a quick flush and filling the bathroom with a different scent. 

“The shower is all clean, baby, see? Nothing is wrong.” 

“But, the water… I did everything. I followed the diet and I…” 

You watched as Chan covered his mouth, trying to muffle his own cries. You crouched down in front of him and put your hands on his knees. “Hey, hey, it’s okay. This is the first time you do this, right?” He nodded. You reached out and wiped the tears off his face. “Well, if you fill your butt for too long, the water will go too far, so I think you just got a little too ambitious with the water and now it went too far into your colon, which can happen, it’s ok.” You rubbed his knees, speaking gently to calm him down. He already had been so nervous and this was just a little too much. “So... there are two things we can do. I can talk you through a deep clean or we just don’t do anything with anal tonight.” Chan took a long shaky breath, looking down at his lap like a child in trouble. You bent your head down, trying to look at him. “And I don't mind either option, ok? I love you, no matter what you choose.”

Chan sniffed again. When he spoke, his voice cracked. “If we’re leaving out anal, how are we going to have sex tonight?” You held back a chuckle and caressed his face. 

You leaned in, so your lips were right next to his ear. “I could suck you off or… use my hands or... ” Your boyfriend swallowed audibly. “Rub my cock against yours or…”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“I want… all of that.” 

You smiled and kissed his nose. "Come on then", you mused as you pulled him up to his feet. He pulled his hand from yours and took a step back, worrying you.

"Can you just… give me a minute?" You nodded slowly and flashed him a gentle smile. You told him you'd be back if he didn't return to the bedroom in ten minutes. You wanted to say five, but you didn't want to rush whatever he wanted to do. 

You sighed when you were back in your bedroom. You took the phone off the mattress and placed it on the bedside table. You sat on the foot off the bed and took a few breaths, calming your own nerves. This was not your first time, but it was the first time with Chan and it was his very first time. You wanted him to enjoy it. Whatever you did, he had to have a good experience. You loved him so much and wanted him to have that. 

“What are you thinking about?” You blinked as you were pulled from your thoughts. You turned your head to the door and saw Chan there, dressed in a bathrobe you bought for him after he spent the night at your place for the first time. It was a big step for your relationship. He looked ethereal, hair sticking up in some places, legs exposed from the knee down and the robe falling open a little to expose his chest. 

“About you,” you confessed as you stood up and held your hand out for him. Chan took it, letting himself be pulled closer. You wrapped an arm around his waist and kissed him. “You’re so beautiful,” you breathed against his lips, before pulling him to the bed. You sat him down and crouched down in front of him. You put your hands on his ankles and slowly moved them up his legs. When your fingers touched the edge of the robe, you looked up at him. “May I?” Chan was red in the face, looking at you with wide eyes, but he nodded nonetheless. 

You slowly pushed the robe up until his cock was visible. You didn’t look up at him as you kissed his soft cock, mouthing at it, before taking it in your mouth. Chan leaned back, breathing heavily as you made him feel things he had never felt before. He slowly grew hard in your mouth. You held one of his thighs with one hand, teasing yourself with the other. When he was at full length, you finally looked up at your boyfriend. He was flushed red, looking absolutely adorable. “Feels good baby?” He nodded, eyes half-closed and mouth hanging open. “Well let me show you my special trick.” You held his eyes with yours as you slowly took his cock in your mouth, deeper and deeper until you had his full length on your mouth. Chan cursed loudly. 

You held him inside for as long as you could. You pulled yourself off him, gasping and panting as you stroked his slick length. “Felt good?” Chan moaned a positive reply. You kept stroking him, polishing his cock with the palm of your hands. Your other hand felt rough on your dry length. Still, you were completely hard. You wished you could fuck him tonight, but that would be a treat for later. 

“I’m getting closer,” Chan warned you. His robe has completely fallen open and he looked like an absolute meal. You cursed at how edible he looked and stood up. Chan whined when you were no longer touching his cock. 

“Get further onto the bed.” You must’ve sounded really horny, because Chan looked unbelievably turned on as he pulled the robe off himself and did as you told him to. In a flash, you were completely undressed as well. You straddled him and grabbed the lube. You covered your hands with it and wrapped them around both your cocks. You trusted into your hands, moaning as your cock rubbed right against your boyfriend’s. 

“You’re so hot,” Chan breathed out, bucking into your hands. You nearly preened after hearing it from him. It was not like he never complimented you, but this was different, raw. You put one hand next to his head and leaned down to kiss him. With one hand you kept your cocks together. 

Your lengths rubbed together as you got your tongue in your boyfriend’s mouth. His sounds got higher and your breathing got uneven. “Can I cum on you?” Chan nodded, head rising to have your lips against his again. You kissed him from his lips down his jaw to his neck, where you lightly bit the skin. Chan’s breath caught and he was completely quiet as his mouth fell open. You felt wetness covering your hand. You did not achieve your orgasm yet, so that left one other option. You let go of your own cock to focus completely on Chan’s. He spasmed as he came between you. You sat up, smiling as you wiped the cum away with your hand, before rubbing it over your cock, using it as additional lube. 

You looked down on your boyfriend, who looked thoroughly fucked. The sight was so hot and you were already close. Hardly a minute later, you were shooting cum all over your boyfriend’s torso. Chan smiled at you as you covered him in your cum. Once you were done riding the wave of your orgasm, you let go of your cock. “Damn,” you panted, looking at the mess you made. You wanted this sight engraved on your retina forever. Chan looked content and happy, while his chest was painted white with your cum. 

“Thank you,” Chan hummed. His finger touched some of your cum. He looked at it, before looking at you. You nearly came again as you watched him lick your cum off the tip of his finger. You laughed when he made a face, clearly not liking the taste of it. 

You patted his side. “I’ll get you a wet towel, so you don’t need to lick it all off yourself.” You gave him a wink, before climbing off the bed. You were already at the door when you turned around. “Oh and… thank you too.” You flashed him a smile, before disappearing to get that wet towel you promised him. 

[currywaifu]

𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: mutuals 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: miyoshi kazunari/reader 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: sfw 𝐰𝐜: 1.9k words, 2 images

𝐚𝐧: me? back w/ fluff? it’s expected at this point! his speech is hard for me to replicate, but I rly do love Kazunari so I hope I did this scenario justice! I, uh, got too excited at the prospect of “insta mutuals” oops~ hope you don’t mind the additional media TT

The Insta notification that popped up on the top of your screen distracted you from the game you were playing. Normally you’d flick the notif away, but as soon as you realised what it was about, you rushed to finish the rest of the stage.

You and Kazunari have been Insta Mutuals for nearly a year now, ever since he hit you with a follow and you proceeded to stalk his readily-available socials. 

The two of you had been liking and commenting on each others’ posts for weeks on end, starting off with you praising his most recent graphic design work to him sending a paragraph of heart emojis on the most recent fan art you drew.

Somewhere in between following each others’ spam accounts to tagging each other on Insta story games, he finally slid into your DMs and the rest was history. Sort of.

You knew what people said about online dating, or even just long distance relationships in general, but try as you might it was hard not to fall for Kazunari.

The more you talked to him, the less he stayed as your “funny artist mutual” and soon enough he progressed into the “still funny but also really sweet and cute artist online friend, 10/10 would date if asked” category.

You didn’t bother stifling your laugh as you looked at the message he sent you, immediately liking his selfie before saving it on your phone.

Okay, no. He can’t just hit you with an “I do wanna meet u already” and then take it back but not fully commit to it!

You waited for him to respond through text, but instead got hit by your ringtone blaring loudly at such an ungodly hour. At the sight of your contact nickname for him, you eagerly answered his call. You rushed to get the first word in, him doing the same unbeknownst to you.

“Kazu-“

“Babe, I-“

The both of you paused, his eventual laughter easing up your tension as you let out a giggle of your own. You mentally told yourself not to be so nervous— Kazunari and you would have this conversation eventually anyway; besides, it wasn’t as if you didn’t want to see him in person. It was quite the opposite, actually. You just figured that conversations like this needed to happen in call, at least.

“Shoot, should probs shut up so Mukkun doesn’t wake up,” Kazunari commented, his voice volume already lowered, “do you wanna go first?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you replied with resolve. You gathered up your thoughts, formulating the next set of sentences that would leave your mouth, before ultimately deciding on one question. “I just need to know first… how serious were you about meeting up irl?”

“I mean, that wasn’t what I meant when I sent the message? But like, it’s still valid, you know?” he paused, but when you didn’t say anything he decided to continue, “it’s not the first time I’ve thought about meeting you. I think about it a lot, actually.”

It was a bit of a shame the two of you chose to voice call instead of video call. You would’ve loved to see your boyfriend’s face just about now, though you supposed it wouldn’t be a good idea to have a heart attack a quarter to 4 in the morning.

Plus, you weren’t sure you could handle him teasing and throwing compliments at you due to your clearly visible elation, if the upwards stretch of your lips was anything to go by.

“Babe? You still there? Did you pass out, or…” In reality it had only been a few seconds, but still you didn’t want to leave him hanging. Not when the two of you were talking about something that meant taking the next step in your relationship.

“I’m still here, Kazu,” you reassured him. Your voice shook slightly, a sliver of your excitement slipping through the cracks. “I’m the same. Like, no lie I was shocked we brought it up like this, but, um… I’m ready, and if you’re ready, too, I want to meet up with you.”

“Wait, wait, wait— hol’ up! So we’re finally going—“ he laughed for the second time tonight, a fuzzy-wuzzy warmth escaping as its sound equivalent. “Wahh! Of course I’m ready! Can’t wait to finally see what a cutie you are irl♪ Hngg, how am I supposed to sleep now? I’m too hyped up!”

You rolled your eyes, despite understanding exactly how he felt. His infectious cheerfulness amplified the blossoming commotion occurring inside your brain. Despite not making any official plans yet, the prospect of finally meeting up had you frenzied.

Still, one of you had to be at least slightly responsible. While you wouldn’t claim to know his daily schedule, if Veludo Arts was anything like your university, he should be as swamped with workload as you were. Actually, maybe that was the reason he was up so late? That’s how it was for you, anyway excluding the fact that you took a break to stamina clear.

“It’s nearly 4 am… do you wanna continue planning this tomorrow? Err, rather, in a couple hours? After our lectures end, maybe?” You asked, though by the tiny whine Kazunari let out you had a feeling he wasn’t going to agree so quickly.

“Ehh? Why don’t we do it now? I have so many ideas about where we could go, and what we could do… oh! I could introduce you to everyone in Mankai! I’m sure they’d love-“

“I’d love to meet them too,” you cut him off, tone as firm as you could manage at this time, “and I want to hear your ideas, really, but I just know if I let you keep talking the sun will rise before we’ve even decided on a date.”

You chuckled as Kazunari let out a sound of protest, though you had a feeling he knew you weren’t wrong about your assessment. “Zuzu~ Let’s go to sleep now, okay?”

His phone microphone picked up on an audible gasp. “Ehh, how come you rarely call me Zuzu? It’s cute when you say it!”

“Because it sounds like a nickname you’d give to a Pokemon!”

“Uwu, maybe I’ll get Itarun to lend me a copy? Then I’ll catch the cutest Pokemon and name it after you~” you nearly groaned at how fluffy he was being. Seriously, he was distracting you from your agenda of going to sleep!

“Kazu! Stop flirting with me at 4 am or we might not fall asleep!”

Though you couldn’t see him, you were 200% sure he had a wide grin plastered on his face right now. “Me? Using tactics to get you to keep talking with me? Never,” he claimed, professing his false innocence.

“Well, I’m not falling for it! I may not be able to physically tuck you in bed right now, but I can in spirit!”

“Oh!? Then can you give me a goodnight kiss in spirit, too?”

At this point, you were sure that even with just a poke on the cheek you’d be able to feel the heat beginning to envelop your face.

As Kazunari finished laughing, you let the quiet lull of the night seep in the conversation for a few moments before gently breaking it.

“I’d rather give you a kiss irl, though.”

And just like that, you claimed victory over the game he started. With how Kazunari sputtered, a part of you worried that he’d disturb his roommate’s slumber. Still, an even bigger part of you was smug to have him speechless for that much of a duration.

“Babeeeee,” he drawled, “you’re so, so, so unfair… I, like, really want to hold you tight right now…” he murmured, the rustle of his bedsheets discernible through the call. You found yourself nestling onto your bed, too, snuggling up to a soft pillow.

“Soon,” you suddenly yawned, your tiredness seeming to have settled in the comfier you got on the bed. “We’ll have a lot of time to plan tomorrow and the days after, yeah?”

Kazunari let out a hum in agreement, a comfortable silence following suit.

“Kazu?” You muttered quietly, careful not to disturb your peaceful atmosphere.

“Yeah?”

“I love you. Good night,” you said, heart aflutter as you heard his response.

“I love you, too, cutie~ sweet dreams♪” he said in an unbelievably soft tone, before ending the call.

After quickly connecting your phone to a charger, you fell back atop your bed and hugged your pillow tight, already anticipating the day you’d be able to hold Kazunari in your arms, and you in his.

…

Morning come, you hastily prepared for class as you always did. You fell into your usual routine— as soon as you were out of the bathroom, you selected an outfit and went over the things you needed to bring to uni today.

You stopped for a minute; taking a quick selfie to post on your story and emphasise your exhaustion to your close friends, before making yourself some breakfast. Within less than 5 minutes, your phone pinged— a recorded message from one of your favourite people this early in the morning.

"Mornin' piko☆ You're looking cute as always today♪”

There was no way you would admit to how many times you replayed it to Kazunari, but even so it was a good way to keep you positive for the rest of the day.

You don’t remember Veludo Way being this rowdy, though it was hard to trust your memory when it’s probably been years since you’ve last visited. Somehow, it was not tough to imagine Kazunari walking around and performing here— the liveliness of the streets difficult to not associate with one of the liveliest people you knew.

While the original plan was to meet up at a cute and trendy cafe you saw all over people’s SNS, the two of you agreed to meet up somewhere less crowded and more meaningful to him— the theatre which he’d performed at multiple times in the past.

As you saw the building from a distance, you wondered when you’d be able to see him on stage, too.

A shout of your name pulled you out of your thoughts, and you couldn’t help yourself from running over to meet up faster with the figure that was jumping and waving around in your direction.

Had you any sense left, you probably would have told him that you didn’t want him embarrassing himself in public, but in reality it was quite apparent that you were just as excited to finally see him in person.

“Kazunari!” you can’t help the little shriek you let out as you finally embrace him, only joyous laughter and each others’ names escaping the both of your lips. When you finally got a good look at Kazunari, you nearly wanted to bury yourself into his shirt again.

Everything still seemed so unbelievable. That this was real. That it was finally happening. It almost felt like the dreams you’ve had of this moment many times before.

“How are you so beautiful in person, too?! It’s totes like I’m falling in love with you again♪” Kazunari exclaimed, squeezing you one more time before finally settling on holding hands with you. “Ahh! I super, duper love you!”

Except it wasn’t. There was nothing imaginary about his warmth, and the way his words made you feel, and the beaming sunshine of a smile he aimed at you.

“I love you, too!”

want to order again?

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

There’s No Way

The Mandalorian x Reader

Warnings: Blood, Angst, Mentions of violence, Fluff

Word Count: 2.1k

Requested by: @sirianfromsixties​

Prompts: #33 “Please don’t die on me.”

A/N: No matter how bad I’m feeling about myself you guys give me enough strength to keep going, so all the love in the world for all of you and stay healthy and safe! Requests are still closed as of now so I can catch up on them and work on other projects but they will be open again soon enough, and I am doing my best to get the rest of my requests out! Thank you all for the patience. 

Masterlist // Pedro Pascal Masterlist

(He was, indeed, very sad)

-

He doesn’t think he’d seen so much blood from such a seemingly small wound, but it had to be deep from the way the blood pools around your still body.

He also doesn’t think he’s ever panicked as much as he is right now, carefully scoping your semi unconscious form to find the source.

“M-mando,” your lips, terrifyingly pale, form the nickname – or the name he’s ever given you – in a weak manner.

“Shh, save your strength,” he says, working frantically on you; you feel the pressure around your left side, mixed with what is like hard pinches.

It’s hard keeping your eyes open. Your mind feels like it’s enclosed in a deep fog, threatening to pull you under, but you know you have to stay awake. Mando’s voice begs you to but fuck it’s so hard when the fog is so comforting, alluring in such a sweet and hypnotizing way.

And Mando? He’s a mess, and he knows it. He knows you’re so close to closing your eyes and disappearing from him, only remaining in his memories and damn it he refuses that let that happen; to have this be his last memory of you.

The panic increases when he barely sees any color left in you. He sees you struggling to stay awake, probably more for his sake than yours, and he doesn’t care who or what he attracts to get the help you need.

“Y/N,” he’s surprised by how calm he sounds despite the inner turmoil he’s battling in his head. “I have to carry you, find you a healer. Just keep your eyes open and on me, okay?”

You can barely nod, but the small tilt of your chin is all the confirmation he needs that you heard him, and he carefully moves his arms under your limp body, grunting as he hauls you up in his arms as gently as he can.

It still doesn’t stop the pained whine to escape from you though, and it makes his heart lurch at the sound of it.

“I know,” he coos to you, doing anything he can to keep you awake. “Keep breathing baby. Just keep breathing for me.”

It’s the first time he’s ever called you by a pet name as sweet as this. You wish it didn’t take you bleeding out in his arms for you to hear it from him.

But it’s hard to register anything when there’s black dots forming around your eyesight, when it feels like your head is submerged underwater and you’re beginning to drown; a horrible thought occurs to you that you may actually be drowning in your own blood.

You hear Mando call out, flagging anyone down that can save you. You keep your eyes on him, just like he said, and you want to ask him to take his helmet off so you can see the face of the man you’ve been travelling with for so long now; your friend, partner, and the man you hopelessly fell in love with.

You’re about to say his name again when he finally manages to find someone, a healer they say, and quickly urge him inside their home, already scrambling for supplies.

He looks down at you then, making sure you’re still conscious.

“Please don’t die on me, Y/N.” He says to you before settling you down on a hard, flat surface. You barely feel the cold (is it supposed to be this cold?) surface, or his touch now for that matter.

It’s all disorienting, and the sweet, sweet call of darkness was now enveloping you completely. You want to tell him you love him before you die. You want him to know that a stupid bounty shooting you when you clearly had been reckless wasn’t his fault either.

“M- ma…”

You lose consciousness before you can get the name out, feeling a faint heavy press against your forehead.

-

The first sense that comes to you is smell. It’s a lovely smell, an aroma of something sweet and cinnamon. The next smell is leather, powder, a hint of metallic. It’s comfortable, familiar, and brings a warmth to your chest.

It feels like years before your eyes finally crack open. The light is blinding, but for the most part the room you’re in is dimmed, no doubt for your sensitivity.

Your body feels like it’s been hit by a thousand bricks, sore and heavy. You must have made a noise as you attempt to look around, putting pressure in your wrists to do so but it’s too quick to try anything, and then there’s a visor staring right above you, careful not to disturb your injured body.

“H-hi,” you croak, throat scratching like sandpaper.

He doesn’t say anything, just reaches over next to him to hand you a cup of water, helping you up as you wince to reach it. The water is cool and feels like heaven sliding down your throat, and as your eyes start to adjust better to your surroundings you realize that you’re in unfamiliar territory. Mando still stands next to you, watching intently as you start to remember the events that led up to where you’re at now. You scrunch your eyebrows as you look down, lifting your shirt – a new, plain shirt that’s a little too big for you – up to find an ugly scar forming on your side, still pink and healing.

“H-how long was I out?” You stammer.

Mando finally sits down on a chair that sits next to your bed, sighing heavily and leaning his elbows against the plates on his knees. It takes a few moments for him to speak, but you wait patiently, sitting back against the stack of soft pillows behind you.

“Four days,” he answers.

You expect him to say more, but it’s almost as if he can’t.

So you continue to ask him, “How bad was it?”

He audibly flinches, and you start to regret bringing up your gun shot wound, but you need to know just how close to death you were. Just how close you were to losing him; not being able to crack a chuckle or two from him or feel the warmth of his body – despite the cold beskar steel – or to hear his modulated voice call out your name.

“You lost a lot of blood,” his voice interrupts your thoughts. “Y – “

You can practically hear the gulp he has to take to continue, and your heart thumps wildly when you hear the pain in his voice.

“Your heart stopped. I… I thought – “

He shakes his head, seemingly frustrated with himself, and you go to move. To do what, you’re not quite sure, but it’s along the lines of a hug and reassuring promises that you’re okay, you’re alive, he’s alive, in his ear.

But he stops you as soon as he sees what you’re doing, scooting the chair closer to the bed and gently pressing you back down with a hand on your shoulder.

“You still need to rest,” he explains. “The healer, this is their home. We have to leave soon before any hunters find us, and I’d rather not risk the life of the person who saved yours.”

You nod your head, agreeing with every word. You wouldn’t want the person who had already risked everything – unknowingly or not – to save you hurt or worse either.

“I think we can leave tonight,” you say. “Other than the sores and little bit of pain, I think I’m alright to move. But I should do something for them before we leave, to show my appreciation.”

He shakes his head again, ever so stubborn. “I still don’t want you moving too much, Y/N. It’s not safe.”

You decide against arguing with him. He doesn’t relax until you settle in more comfortably on the bed. It’s then you notice the plate of food sitting by your side, still hot and fresh it seems.

Mando notices your gaze and hands the plate over to you, which earns him a look from you. He only shrugs.

“Figures the one thing that would get you up and listening would be food.”

You giggle around the roll of bread you already have stuffed in your mouth. It makes his heart clench, because he could’ve lost that smile, the infectious laughs he grew to look forward to.

It’s comfortable silence as you gulf down the delicious food given to you. He has to tell you to slow down, which you see as reasonable but still give him a small glare. He lets you set the plate down and sit up a little to stretch because he knows that if he pampers you to the point of suffocating, that it will only lead to arguments and that’s the last thing you need right now.

He wants to say something, but he can see the gears turning in your head, your brows scrunched rather adorably.

“You called me baby.”

He freezes. He didn’t think you’d remember so much after waking up, but you continue to surprise him at every turn.

He starts to rack his brain for anything to dispute it, but then what’s the point? He can’t fight or deny his feelings for you any longer, and you died. It would kill him if he never got the chance to tell you he loved you out of fear and his own stupidity.

“I – I liked it,” you tell him when he doesn’t respond. “I-if that’s okay to say.”

It was more than okay. It was everything in his eyes, a step closer to what he wants.

You jump a little when you feel a hand thump against your clothed knee, immediately relaxing at his touch and comforting rubs.

“Okay…” He puts his head down before abruptly looking back up. “Y/N, seeing you like that…. I don’t ever, ever, want to see that again.”

For a second, you fear he is about to tell you that he was going to leave, that he’s changed his mind about letting you travel with him and that he doesn’t feel the same way about you, as silly as the last part sounds with the way he’s practically trembling in front of you. The panic starts to bubble deep in your stomach before his other hand goes to cup your cheek, rubbing your cheekbone with a lover’s caress.

“I can’t lose you. And when your heart – stopped… it’s indescribable. Believe me when I tell you that I love you, Y/N. I will always love you and I want you to take it easy from now, for my sake. Please.”

You replay those three words over and over in your head. It’s like your short circuiting, your heart leaping with joy. 

It’s like a huge weight has been lifted off your chest. When you look at him, you’re no longer afraid of rejection, or losing him forever as a friend.

When you look at him, despite not being able to see his eyes, you know for certain that he’s looking straight at you with the same level of love you’ve been holding for him for so long, and maybe his love is too blinding for you to see now without the protection of the helmet he’s worn for as long as he can remember.

And then he gently, slowly, brings his forehead to rest against yours, hovering over you – which you’re sure is a little uncomfortable for him – placing a hand behind your neck to hold you against him.

“Din,” he whispers softly. “My name is Din, and I want to use my name when we’re alone, because this... this is for us.”

It’s in this that you see your future flashing through your eyes. More years of travelling with him, the first kiss, the first bare touch against yours. The first discovery of the man beneath all of that armor, tracing delicately over the curves of his lips, the wrinkles around his eyes and the bumps of his nose. The first time you both discover each other’s bodies, tracing over every inch of skin and connecting as one. Then lastly, a warm sun baring over the two of you, his palm resting against the new curves of your stomach, smiling so damn brightly that it could destroy the world with one glimpse.

You’re sure, with the way his breath evens out and the way his hands squeeze you with confirmation of your presence and the Mandalorian’s kiss he refuses to back away from because it’s what he’s been dreaming of for so long, that he sees it too.

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