D1lf-loverrr - Ruby Winchester

INFINITELY YOU

part two // crullers & constants

SUMMARY - In every universe, Peter Parker seems destined to fall in love with you. And, in every universe, he realizes it too late. When universes collide and two of them are granted a second chance at rectifying their biggest mistake, neither of them are willing to let the opportunity go to waste–even if you end up not being the person they thought you were.

WARNINGS - 18+, story will contain mentions of blood, broken bones, weapons, suggestive language, and more. I will try to update warnings accordingly for each chapter, but please read at your own discretion

WORD COUNT - 4.2k

// masterlist // series masterlist // send me your thoughts // no way home fan fiction // rewrite

name key: tom!peter = peter // andrew!peter = parker

Peter Pan Donuts is a sacred place. 

Or, rather, it was a sacred place—and walking back into the shop now felt awfully strange. 

Back when you and Peter first started high school, it had become a tradition to end every Friday with one of the renowned pastry shop’s legendary frosted crullers. You considered it a well-deserved reward for surviving another week of more drama than either of you could stomach, thankful that the weekend was finally upon you and that you could finally breathe without inhaling the reek of the unwashed teenage boys that lined the halls of Midtown. 

Peter Pan’s quickly became a haven. A safe place where the two of you could tuck yourselves away at the end of the bar, talking for hours about the teachers you hated and the bullies you hoped would fall from the face of the Earth. There was nothing that you couldn’t talk about, no secrets kept between you and Peter. 

Or, at least, none that mattered. 

But things changed as time passed, as they so often do. 

It started with the inclusion of Ned. You didn’t particularly mind his presence, even if the conversations had begun to shift towards less intimate topics, focusing instead on movies that you all wanted to see or upcoming video games that you would all try to play. 

Then came the inclusion of Mj a few months later, after she landed a job at the shop. That was when everything truly changed—when it was no longer you and Peter tucked away at the bar, but you and Ned, left to pick at your food and watch as Peter leaned across the front counter and talked to Mj over her shift. 

After a few months of testing every donut on the menu with Ned, you stopped going altogether. 

And Peter never even asked why. 

“I was surprised to see you texted me,” you quip as you slid onto the free barstool, “what happened to not wanting me to get involved?” 

Peter exhales sharply through his nose, and even though his eyes are glued to his phone, you can tell that he was already regretting asking you to meet him here. “I already told you that what I want doesn’t matter.” 

And how true that must have been. 

There had been nothing kind about his text to you this morning, although there was nothing inherently rude about it either, you supposed. It was simple—meet me at Peter Pan’s asap, need 2 talk—but you could almost sense the begrudging nature with which he had typed it. And, sitting next to him now, you could almost feel it, too. 

He didn’t want you here, even if he had been the one to invite you, and you couldn’t help but wonder why he had decided to involve you at all—especially so soon. What had changed in a single night? 

Sitting on the barstool to your left, Parker pops his lips. “Well this is fun. I’m not at all uncomfortable right now.” 

You turned towards him, acknowledging just how different he looked in the civilian clothes that he donned in place of his suit—black jeans that certainly looked worse for wear and an old Ramone’s t-shirt that you immediately recognized as yours. Oversized on you, the short sleeves clung rather tightly to his well-muscled arms. Did he seriously go through your stuff?! 

 “Why are you even here?” You ask, perhaps a little sharper than necessary. You weren’t angry that he had gone sifting through the armoire in the spare bedroom, especially since he couldn’t just parade around as Spider-Man all of the time. But he could’ve at least asked. “Shouldn’t one of you be busy patrolling?” 

It was hard to tell if the offense on his face was real or feigned, but you didn’t care much either way. “Peter wanted answers about my world, I wanted food,” he shrugs, gesturing at the crème-filled donut in front of him. “And Peter 2’s handling patrol.” 

Peter 2—you had almost forgotten about him, the version of Peter that hadn’t wanted to come with Ned and Mj to your apartment last night. As far as you could tell when you woke up this morning, he hadn’t shown up in the middle of the night, either—no trace of Parker or anyone else when you had finally stumbled out of your room to get ready after reading the text from Peter. 

You didn’t figure it was really your business where the mystery Peter was, but you were a little surprised to hear that he was still out patrolling. Was he not exhausted?  

“Ametaur move getting crème-filled,” you tell him, ignoring everything he said. “Should’ve gone with the frosted vanilla cruller, it’s way better.” 

“No way,” he gapes, grabbing the half-eaten pastry and shaking it for emphasis as he said, “this is god-tier, alright? No way anything’s topping it.” 

The expression on his face was actually hilarious, his brown doe eyes alight with pure euphoria as he took another bite of the donut. An exaggerated moan slipped his lips, coated with bits of sugar and crème. It was hard not to laugh at him, especially when you knew that was probably his goal—to combat the evident tension between you and Peter. 

Chuckling, you lift your hands in mock defense. “Suit yourself, Parker. But if you ever wanna experience true pleasure, then you know what to order.” 

Parker looks as if he's about to continue his borderline-lustful tangent about the donut, but Peter spoke up instead, his attention snagging on the name you used. 

“Parker?” He echoes in disbelief, letting his phone clatter against the bar. 

Peter’s sudden resurgence to the real world left Parker silent, sinking back against his stool and taking another bite. 

“What?” Your brow arches, your voice laced with incredulity. “Did you really think I’d keep calling him Peter 2? No offense to Ned, but everything about that feels stupid.” 

Peter’s eyes narrow, coupled with a subtle shake of his head that indicates he doesn't care nearly enough to have this conversation right now. 

You didn’t care much either, and so you steered the conversation in a more productive direction. “So what is this grand plan of yours?” You ask with a somewhat sarcastic lilt. “And where do I fit into it?” 

Another huff of breath escaped his nostrils. “We don’t even have a plan. Not yet,” he reluctantly admits. “But I tried talking to Doctor Strange last night, to see if he had some sort of magical spell or something that would let us go back and fix all of this.” 

Your lips press together, nibbling on the skin and pretending you didn’t notice the hidden meaning behind his words. He hadn’t just gone to Doctor Strange to find a way to get rid of the villains now lurking in your world, because if he had, then he wouldn’t have gone specifically seeking out a spell that would let him go back—not just to stop the villains from ever coming here, but to save May, too. 

“Did he?” 

Peter reached for his cup of iced coffee, if only to occupy his now-fidgeting fingers. “No,” he murmurs, the sound of sloshing ice nearly overpowering him as he swirled the cup. “He didn’t.” 

You frown at the tinge of disappointment that snuck through his otherwise even tone, your chest aching. You had to fight against the urge to say I’m sorry, remembering what he had said to you last night—he didn’t want your apologies, nor did he seem to want anyone else's. 

In truth, you weren’t sure what Peter wanted; or what you could do to help him. 

“Well did he have anything useful?” 

He shook his head, lifting the cup to his mouth. “Define useful,” he scoffed, sounding uncharacteristically sharp. He took a sip of his drink, his nose scrunching as soon as the coffee hit his tongue—too bitter. 

Despite the coffee’s pale color that indicated it was more cream than coffee, you weren’t surprised that it was still too strong for him. Peter had never truly developed a taste for coffee, only pursuing a caffeine addiction for the sake of combating the exhaustion that came with being Spider-Man. That didn’t mean he had ever grown to like it though, masking the taste with copious amounts of sugar and syrups. 

“Something that will keep multiversal villains from tearing our world apart?” You venture half-heartedly, guided by pure instinct and muscle memory as you reached over to take his cup from him, snagging a few packs of sugar from the plastic canister on the bar to0. 

“He has a theory,” Peter gives you a tight-lipped smile, born of pure frustration. 

“A theory? And he expects us to save the world with this theory?” You ask, a bit more derisive than you would have been if Doctor Strange were around to hear. 

Peter scoots closer to you, his voice purposefully low. “Do you remember when I told you about him using the Time Stone before Mr. Stark died? To look through all the different outcomes with Thanos?” 

Ripping open the sugar packets and dumping them in his cup, you managed to mask a wince at the mention of Peter’s dead mentor. You only nodded, not trusting your voice to stay steady if you tried for any sort of verbal affirmation. 

“Well… when he did that, he thinks that he might have actually seen through the multiverse—he just didn’t know for sure at the time.” 

Your forehead creased as you popped the lid back onto his cup, sliding it back towards him. Given his advantage of Spidey-sense, he easily caught it before it could slide too far and end up on the floor—which is what would have definitely happened pre-Spider bite. 

“And you don’t consider that to be useful to our current situation?” 

“No. I don’t.” Peter answers firmly. “Because at the center of it all—in every universe the Stone showed him—all he saw was you.” 

You nearly laugh, your lips curving as you rose a brow at him. “Me?” 

Peter gave a nod as he took another sip of his drink. This time, his nose didn’t scrunch. 

“But it’s been almost a year since the Avengers took down Thanos,” you reminded him, your stunned amusement beginning to fade into confusion. “If he saw.. Me, when he used the Stone, then why didn’t he say anything until now?” 

By no means would you consider yourself to be close with New York’s resident Sorcerer, and so you wouldn’t have expected him to come to you with this knowledge. But Peter—he knew Peter, and he knew that you were Peter’s best friend, and so it didn’t make any sense to you why Doctor Strange chose to wait until now to mention what the Stone had shown him. 

Given the aggravated expression Peter wore, it was clear that he was thinking the same. “I don’t know, and trying to get answers out of Doctor Strange that he clearly doesn’t want to give is like pulling teeth.” 

“But what does that mean?” You couldn’t stop yourself from pressing further, concern starting to bubble up inside of you. Regardless of his answer—if he had one—you had a feeling you wouldn’t like it. “I don’t get how I’m at the center of every universe.” 

Peter blew out a breath, his fingers going back to tapping against the sides of his plastic cup. “Alright, so there are probably well-over a hundred thousand different parallel universes, okay? Some of them are probably super similar to ours, and then there are others that are the complete opposite.” 

“O-kay,” you drone, your brows drawing together. You felt the start of a headache coming on as you prepared yourself for the confusing science-talk that was surely about to start pouring out of his mouth. 

Perhaps noticing your pained expression, Peter tries to find a way to simplify whatever explanation he was about to use. “Try and look at it like this,” he started, “think of the multiverse as some giant, cosmic loom, alright? Now imagine that each thread on the loom signifies a person. As the loom weaves all of these different threads together, different decisions get made and different actions are taken—and with every choice, a new thread is spun, branching off and creating a variation of the original tapestry.” 

“So it’s like you and Parker, right?” You interrupt him, rubbing at your temples. “Same thread, different reality?” 

“Exactly! And, technically speaking, that’s how it’s supposed to be. As the loom weaves and alters reality, each thread continuously evolves into something different.” He paused, his fingers finally falling still. “But now imagine that—in the center of all of these branching tapestries—there exists one thread, entirely unbroken and unaltered by this ever-weaving tapestry of existence, okay? A glitch in the cosmic fabric, a constant that’s woven into infinite realities and yet, somehow, remains fundamentally unchanged. How does that work?” 

You couldn’t ignore the sense of dread creeping up your spine, nor could you escape the slight wobble in your voice as you said, “It doesn’t sound like it should.” 

“You’re right, it shouldn’t work.” Peter confirmed, his expression nearly impossible to read. “But according to Doctor Strange, you are that thread. A constant anomaly that defies every potential law of the multiverse.” 

Nausea bubbled in your gut. God, you did not want to deal with this right now! 

“And let me guess,” a bitter laugh follows your words, “that’s as much information as he was willing to give, wasn’t it?” 

“Yep,” Peter pops his lips, leaning back into his stool. His brows raise slightly in a silent I told you so before he says, “Hey, you’re the one that wanted to be involved, right? Now you’re at the center of everything-” 

“I said I wanted to help you,” you correct him sharply. “Not that I wanted to be at the center of Doctor Strange’s weird Time Stones fantasies!” 

He only shrugs, barely acknowledging the dirty look you gave him as he plucks his phone off of the counter, clicking on a notification. “Same thing, isn’t it? Either way, you get what you want.” 

“What I want?” You echoed, your mouth hung open in disbelief. 

“Doctor Strange seems to think that whatever is wrong with you might help us solve all of this. That you might be connected to the multiverse somehow, or that you’re at least immune to it. So yeah, you get what you want. You get to help,” he spat the word out like an insult, too focused on typing something to even notice how rude he sounded. 

If it weren’t for the feeling that stomach acid was about to come crawling up your throat, then you might have taken some time to unpack the bitterness in his tone or be hurt by the claim that something was wrong with you—but you didn’t. Even if you had, you weren’t sure that it would have gotten you anywhere. 

You weren’t stupid. Peter was wielding his insolence like a shield, purposefully trying to hurt you as an effort to keep you at arms length—and, if you had to guess, Mj and Ned were probably receiving the same treatment right now. 

“Well this isn’t exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help,” you admitted, one hand going to rest against your cramping stomach. At least the throbbing in your temples had died down… 

Peter only shrugged at you, shoving his phone in his back pocket and rising to his feet. “Too bad,” he told you, offering a smile that most definitely wasn’t genuine. “I’ve gotta go, but make him walk you home, alright? I’ll text you if I hear anything else from Doctor Strange.” 

Parker frowned beside you, and whether it was because Peter was speaking about him like he wasn’t here or because of his attitude in general, you couldn’t tell. 

“Whoa, hold up! You didn’t even tell me what your plan is until you hear from him!” You argue, reaching for his wrist to keep him from walking past you until he answered. 

He pulls his hand back from your grip, but not before your stare snags on the reddish hue that stains his nails—blood. Noticing it only served to make you feel sicker, and to make your concern for Peter grow larger. Was he really still walking around with May’s blood caked under his nails? Has he rested at all since last night? 

“Same plan as always,” he told you, your eyes snapping up to meet his, suddenly noticing how rimmed with exhaustion they were. “Stop the bad guys.” 

He didn’t leave any time for protests or further questions before turning his back to you and heading straight for the exit. When the little bell on the door chimed as he shoved his way back out onto the streets, you couldn’t stop the worried sigh that escaped your lips. 

Peter was an Avenger by every right. He had battled alongside a Norse God and helped take down a literal Titan, and so knew that you shouldn’t have any reason to doubt his capability when it came to taking down whatever villains had crossed into your world. 

But it wasn’t that you doubted his ability to survive against them, or even his ability to stop them—you were worried about whether he could handle the weight of it all. 

The weight of him placing yet another thing on his shoulders. Another villain, another fight, another burden, another chance to lose someone. 

Thinking of that, it suddenly dawned on you that maybe Mj and Ned weren’t getting the same treatment as you. Maybe you were getting the worst of it, if only because now whatever connection you had to the multiverse was just another weight he thought he had to bear, another person he had to worry about protecting. 

Guilt flooded your veins, and even as you tried to remind yourself that you hadn’t caused this, you still couldn’t shake the anxious feeling that it was somehow your fault anyway. 

“Y’know, I get that this probably isn’t the right time for this,” Parker starts. When you look at him, your attention immediately snags on the dozen donuts that he had ordered while you were talking to Peter. “But I think it’s so cool that you guys have magic in your world!” 

He takes another bite of the donut in his hand, powdered sugar falling from his lips as he says, “And these donuts! It’s a tough call, but they might be even better than magic!” 

You didn’t know him well enough to be able to tell if he was intentionally trying to lighten the mood or if it was just incidental, but it worked all the same. Laughter poured from your mouth, and it wasn’t until it died down that he said anything else. 

“Sooo… That was tense, wasn’t it? Like, it wasn’t just me, right?” 

You groan, propping your elbows against the counter and placing your cheeks in your palms. “Was it that noticeable?” 

Parker snorts a laugh, stretching an arm past you to reach for Peter’s abandoned coffee. “Oh, yeah. It’s actually painful to be in a room with you two.” 

His playful tone made it clear that it was just a joke, but it still made you feel bad. You already didn’t like how hostile things felt between you and Peter, even if it was only one-sided, and to know that others felt it too just made it that much worse. 

“Things are just.. Difficult, right now.” You tell him, choosing your words carefully. 

“So it hasn’t always been like that with you guys?” He asks, and the delicate arch of his brow made it seem as though he were shocked by the possibility that things had ever been civil between you and Peter. 

There was a chance that you had misread his expression though, as it was very quickly wiped away once he took a sip of Peter’s half-drank coffee, gagging as soon as it hit his tongue. “Holy shi-” he started coughing, cutting off the vulgarities that threatened to spill out. “How does he drink this?!” Parker yelped as soon as he could take a full breath, looking utterly disgusted as he shoved the cup back across the bar. “It’s literally just liquid sugar!” 

You found it hard to stifle your amusement at his suffering, even as he shot you a teasing scowl for it. “No,” you answer his previous question, trying to ignore his melodramatic display, “believe it or not, things between us actually used to be really… I don’t know—easy, I guess.” 

Parker was still smacking his lips to try and rid himself of the cloying aftertaste. “What changed?” 

In retrospect, you realized that it probably would have been smarter for you to bite your tongue. To offer him some cheap, cop-out excuse rather than tell him the truth. After all, you already had experience in hiding from the truth and it wasn’t like you really knew Parker, and so lying to him shouldn’t have been a hard task. 

Yet, for some reason, you told him the truth anyway. 

“Mj happened.” 

Parker’s brows furrows. “The girl from last night, right?” 

“Yep. That’s the one.” 

“Y’know, I don’t really like her all that much,” his words were spoken like a balm, seeking to ease the dejected look etched upon your face, but tinged with enough playful sarcasm for you to know he didn’t actually mean them. “She threw a bread roll at me. A few of them, actually.” 

It was hard not to laugh at the thought considering that it was such an Mj thing to do. “Sounds about right,” you crack a smile, although you don't feel particularly happy. “She’s always been slow to trust, especially complete strangers.” 

In an odd sort of way, the statement felt like a lie. Not because it actually wasn’t true—because Mj was wary of strangers—but because Parker didn’t quite feel like a stranger in your mind. While last night had been a bit awkward, you now felt like talking to him was effortless, each sentence rolling off your tongue with unnatural ease. 

“But she trusts you?” Parker asks, picking a crumb off another one of the pastries and popping it into his mouth. 

You sucked in a breath. 

“I don’t know,” you answer him, with a bit more honesty than you're comfortable with. “I mean, I know that she used to trust me. But now… I’m not even sure if she likes me anymore.” 

His brow snapped up. “What changed?” 

Suddenly the truth no longer felt so easy, and you found yourself wishing that you could change the subject altogether. You didn’t want to talk about this—especially not with him, some boy that you had known for less than twenty-four hours. 

But you had backed yourself into a corner, and so in an effort to try and satiate whatever interest he had developed in the story you had told, you settled on offering a vague half-truth. 

“She started dating Peter,” you tell him simply, putting effort into looking disinterested. “They got together a few months ago and things just… It just got weird, y’know? It’s always awkward when two of your friends get together, I guess. Creates too much drama.” 

“Yeah, for sure,” Parker hums, agreeing with you. “Especially when you have feelings for him, right?” 

An incomprehensible noise escaped your throat, best categorized as something between a laugh and a cough. Your mouth fell open to try and defend yourself, to try and deny his claim—but he didn’t even give you a chance. 

“Oh c’mon!” Parker groans, grinning when he notices the now rosy complexion of your cheeks. “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice? I mean, let’s be real here, alright? That whole sugar thing earlier?” He jutted a finger towards Peter’s abandoned iced coffee, “Was a dead giveaway.” 

“You’re insane,” You declare, shaking your head and masking your embarrassment with uncomfortable laughter. “I don’t have feelings for Peter—and even if I did, it wouldn’t matter! Regardless of what it’s done to our friendship, Mj is literally perfect for him and-” 

“I think it’s cute,” he interrupts, a delicate smile gracing his lips. Noticing the way your brows furrow, he elaborated, “How much you care about him. And how much you care about her, too, since you’re so willing to pretend like you don’t like him.” 

“I’m not pretending-” 

Parker jokingly cut his eyes. “Yeah, sureee.” 

Blowing a frustrated breath, you push yourself up from the barstool. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.” You tell him, far too flustered to try and come up with a good defense to his teasing. “You can take the rest of your donuts to go, Bug-boy.” 

There was a subtle shift in his demeanor as the taunting nickname fell from your lips, and he almost felt as though his heart had stopped dead in his chest. 

“Fine,” Parker yields, rising to his feet and snagging the box of donuts from the bar. “But I really hope that you have your wallet—cause I definitely don’t have a way to pay for these.” He flashed a crooked smile before continuing, “Or we can just run really fast and hope they don’t call the police on us for stealing pastries.” 

“I can’t imagine that robbery would be very good for your reputation as a hero,” you chide sarcastically, your own lips curling into a half-smile, “so I’ll pay—but only if you give me every cruller in that box. Deal?” 

Parker spares a quick glance down at the dozen box of donuts in his hands. Half of them were already gone, but through the small cellophane window he could see that there were three frosted crullers left. “Deal.”

series masterlist

a/n - for those who read IY before the rewrite, you may already be able to note some rather major changes going on lmao. i genuinely can't describe how much i actually enjoy rewriting this story, as i'm finally able to collect my thoughts enough to write the plot the way i originally wanted to.

as always, please leave any feedback, opinions, etc.! any and all comments/reblogs definitely encourage me to write/edit faster! and, if you'd like to be added to the tag list, just let me know!

part three, titled "spitfire", to be released april 15th

You’re Losing Me Part 14

𝖲𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: 𝖸𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖯𝗈𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗇𝗈 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋, 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗎𝗇𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝖺𝖻𝗅𝖾 𝖻𝗈𝗇𝖽…𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖺𝗁𝖺𝗄𝗂, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗉𝗎𝗅𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗆 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗇𝗈 𝗆𝖺𝗍𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝗈𝗐 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌, 𝗁𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇’𝗍 𝗌𝖾𝖾𝗆 𝗍𝗈 𝖽𝗈 𝖺𝗇𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍. 𝖶𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉 𝖻𝖾𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗉𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗎𝗅𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝖾𝗌𝗍, 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗐𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝗍𝗈 𝖾𝖺𝖼𝗁 𝗈𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋? 𝖮𝗋 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗀𝗈𝗈𝖽?

A/N: this is a hanahaki au. WC: 3.9k

Remus sits in a booth, anxiously tapping the tabletop with a butter knife as he waits. The boys had kept him back for too long. At least that’s what he thought. Between trying to find a decent outfit and listening to James’ ridiculous plan, Remus was sure he’d be late; running all the way here to not keep you waiting. Funnily enough, now here he sits, waiting for you to join him.

“Ready to order?” The waitress asks pointedly as she approaches the table.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, setting down the cutlery with a sheepish smile.

“So?” She asks again, this time with a smile. “Ready to order?”

“I’m actually waiting for-“

“Moons!”

Remus’ head whips up at the sound of your voice and when he sees you standing at the entrance, he completely forgets about the person right in front of him.

“Hey.” He breathes, though you’re nowhere near close enough to hear him- something the waitress finds incredibly amusing. She looks between the two of you with a curious gaze.

“I’ll just…give you a minute…” She says- mostly to herself- before turning around and hurrying towards the kitchen.

“Hey. Sorry I’m late,” You apologize once you reach the booth.

“You’re not.” Remus assures you. “I got here early.”

“I had to talk to McGonagall about the classes I dropped-“

“It’s fine.”

“And then I went to meet with Kettleburn to see if he’d still allow me to do my apprenticeship with him-“

“No worries.”

“And for some reason everybody wanted to stop me on the way here to say hi? And like, yeah it’s nice but-“

“You look lovely.” Remus says casually, effectively stopping your rambling.

You freeze, cutting yourself off mid sentence before looking up at Remus with a confused smile.

“Just for the record.” He adds.

“Shut up.” You mumble, laughing nervously.

“No, really.” Remus insists with a nod.

You continue to stare at him skeptically.

“I especially love your jumper.” He comments, eyeing said garment teasingly while he takes a sip of his water.

You roll your eyes with an amused huff.

“You mean your jumper?”

“Is that where I know it from?” Remus asks, pretending as if the information shocked him.

“Do you want it back?” You ask with a guilty smile, already starting to pull one of your arms through the sleeve. After all, it is long overdue. You’d had it for over a month now.

“Not a chance.” Remus refuses, reaching over and placing his hand upon yours.

Your smile drops as you stare at Remus’s hand now sitting atop yours. Your gaze slowly rises and you swallow nervously when you lock eyes with him. The playfulness of it all gone as you hold his stare, unable to look away.

“It looks better on you.” He adds softly, causing your cheeks to warm.

“I brought some appetizers!” The waitress announces, setting the platter down with a proud smile. “On the house, of course.”

Remus pulls his hand away and you clear your throat, avoiding his gaze as you readjust the jumper. The waitress looks between you curiously.

“I didn't interrupt anything, did I?” She asks cautiously.

“No.” You tell her at the same time that Remus says “Yes.”

You look at Remus with wide eyes before turning to stare at the waitress, no doubt looking just as shocked as you feel. She’d have laughed at your expression if she didn’t find you two stumbling over your words so endearing.

“Right. Well…enjoy!” She smiles knowingly, walking away before either of you can even thank her.

You and Remus exchange a shy grin before digging into the food.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Sorry again for being late.” You apologize with a frown, dipping some fries into the pile of ketchup and taking a bite. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting too long…”

“Waiting for you has never been a problem before.” Remus hums absentmindedly, picking up a chicken wing and taking a huge bite. “Don’t see why it would be now.”

Choosing to ignore the somersault your heart just did at his confession, you smile appreciatively at Remus only to let out a startled laugh when you look at him.

“What?” He asks, mouth still full of food.

“You have barbecue sauce on your face.” You inform him in between giggles.

Remus grabs a napkin and wipes the side of his mouth before looking to you for approval.

“It’s still there.” You tell him with a shake of your head.

Remus frowns and wipes his face again.

“Did I get it?”

“Not even close…”

“For fucks-“ He aggressively wipes his face a third time. “Good?”

“Give me that.” You huff, stealing the napkin out of his hand. “Come here.”

Remus leans forward and you gently grab hold of his chin as you wipe the napkin across the right side of his mouth.

“Honestly, Moony.” You scold teasingly. “If the napkin came back clean the first time around, why would you continue to wipe the same spot?”

“Make fun all you want, love. From where I’m standing it looks like I won.”

“Oh yeah?” You ask, playfully narrowing your eyes at him. “How so?”

“Mm-mm.” He shrugs casually before smiling at you. “But I am quite comfortable.”

It’s only then that you realize you’re still gingerly holding his chin, with his face mere inches from yours. You see his eyes drop to your lips and that’s when you seem to finally snap out of it, pulling away abruptly to put some space between the two of you.

“Here.” You hand him back the napkin, avoiding eye contact as you do. “Try not to make a mess this time.”

“Yes ma’am.” He nods, chuckling at the offended look you give him.

You playfully stick your tongue out at him and Remus points at something over your shoulder, taking a few of your fries when your back is turned.

“Hey!” You whine when you realize that he’d simply tricked you.

“Oh, did you want them?” Remus asks cluelessly after having shoved the fries into his mouth.

“No…” You shake your head, leaning back in your seat before adding, “…tosser.”

Remus throws his head back in laughter before looking at you with a fond smile.

“Missed you.” He confesses. And it’s true; he had. It had been so long since you’d been your playful self, he almost forgot how much he loved it. Almost.

“Missed you too.” You return. “That’s why I asked you to ditch.”

“Oh yeah?” He asks, taking a large gulp of his drink.

“Yeah.” You confirm with a nod, as you shyly avoid his gaze. “I know how important class is to you but I was really hoping you would say yes…”

“As if I could ever say no to you.” Remus scoffs.

“Careful Moony. You keep saying things like that I might just go ahead and fall in love with you.” You tease, schooling your features even though your face feels as if it’s on fire.

“Is that supposed to scare me?” Remus asks with a raised brow.

You simply grin at him before picking up another fry and dipping it in the mountain of ketchup.

“So how are you?” He asks.

“Fine.” You shrug, dipping the fry back into the ketchup absentmindedly. “Better than fine, actually.”

“You’re not in any pain?” Remus asks worriedly. “Or shortness of breath? Or coughing up flowers?”

“No. No. And no.” You answer, still dunking the fry into ketchup.

“That’s great.”

“Yeah…” You hum, fry now limp and soggy from the amount of ketchup it’s drenched in.

“But?” Remus asks, reaching over and gently grasping your wrist, stopping you from dunking the poor sliver of potato even more.

Finally realizing what you’ve been doing, you grimace at the fry before setting it back down on the plate and wiping your hands with a napkin.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” You ask softly, staring at him with wide eyes, anxious to hear his thoughts.

Remus takes a deep breath before crossing his arms and sitting back in his seat.

“Do you think you made a mistake?”

“No.” You answer immediately. “I mean, you saw me.” You remind him with a frown. “I was at death’s door. This was the best option for me. For my health. My- my chance at living!”

“Then what’s the problem?” Remus asks with a frown of his own.

“I don’t know.” You shrug. “I just… I feel off…”

“Off how?” He asks, voice filled with concern.

“I-I feel like something is missing...”

“Like…the guy…” Remus stutters nervously, sitting up in his seat. “The uh- the one who caused your hanahaki?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I knew I would forget him. I was fine with that. I am fine with that. This is something else. I don’t know what. But I know something is missing. My brain is too…quiet…”

“Quiet? Hmm… Do you think they did the surgery wrong? Did you forget more than you should have?”

“I don’t know!” You groan in frustration before letting out a long sigh. “I don’t know… Everyone worth remembering, I remember.”

“Okay…” Remus nods. “That’s good!”

You look up at him and he’s surprised to see your eyes filled with tears.

“But I feel… empty… and I don’t know why…”

“You’re crying…” Remus says softly.

“I am?” You ask, wiping under your eye and frowning when your fingertip comes back wet. “Fuck.”

Remus hands you a napkin and you take it with a grateful smile, sniffling as you dab your eyes.

“See?” You ask, balling up the napkin and tossing it on the table before pointing at your eyes. “What is this?! Why is this happening!?”

“When was your last period?” Remus asks curiously.

You glare at him and he immediately hurries to explain himself.

“PMS is a thing, Y/N! You know better than I do. Could it be that?” He suggests.

“I am not discussing my monthlies with you.” You tell him matter-of-factly. “…But it’s not that.”

“Okay.” Remus relents, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry I brought it up.”

“What if your emotions are trying to get regulated?” He offers instead.

“Do you think that’s possible?” You ask skeptically.

“Considering that hanahaki was thought to be eradicated this whole time and somehow you got it, I’d say pretty much anything is possible.” Remus shrugs.

“Lucky me.” You tell him, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Remus smiles sympathetically at you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“Hey Y/N?” Remus calls as you both start walking back to the castle.

“Yeah?”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You contemplate it for a moment before eventually nodding.

“Sure.”

“Why did you ask me to Hogsmeade today?” Remus asks, eyes fixed on the ground as he walks. “I mean, without the guys.”

“Well, because I missed you…” You tell him with a nervous chuckle. “I thought that was obvious.”

“I missed you too.” He nods. “But so did Pads and Wormtail and Pr-“ He stops, cutting himself off before he could mention James.

“Well yeah,” You agree. “But that’s different.”

“How?” Remus asks curiously.

His curiosity only grows when you smile knowingly at him before facing forward and skipping ahead, leaving him behind.

“It just is.” You call over your shoulder at him with a giggle.

Remus looks at you curiously but chooses to let it go for now, hurrying to catch up with you. The last thing he wants to do is overwhelm you, so he’ll give you some time before asking all the questions plaguing his mind.

Upon entering the common room, he walks you to the staircase that leads up to the girl’s dormitories.

“Thanks for hanging out with me, Moony.” You smile at him.

“Yeah of course, love.” Remus nods with a smile of his own. “Any time.”

You gaze at him for a moment, as if you’re contemplating something before finally, taking a step closer to him. Remus watches with bated breath as you get on your tiptoes and press your lips to his cheek in a chaste kiss. Remus stands frozen, staring wide eyed at you while you take a step back, staring back at him with a shy grin.

“Okay…good night…” You tell him, turning around.

Before he even knows what he’s doing, Remus has reached forward and grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going any further. You look up at Remus in confusion, wondering what he’s doing.

“Are you sure you don’t remember him?” He asks suddenly, anxiously.

“Who?”

“Ja- the guy. The one who caused your hanahaki.” Remus stutters. “You don’t remember him? At all?”

You furrow your brows in concentration before eventually shaking your head.

“I just remember you.” You tell him with a confused smile, wondering why he’s suddenly bringing him up.

Remus continues to stare at you wordlessly, causing your confusion to grow.

“Why do you ask?” You finally ask him, head tilting to the side curiously as you watch him.

“It’s nothing.” Remus mumbles, shaking his head as he lets go of your wrist. “Sorry. Get some rest, love. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Okay.” You nod, waving at Remus a final time before turning around and hurrying up the stairs. “Good night.”

Remus watches you climb the stairs and turn down the hall, surely going to your dorm. As soon as you’re out of sight, Remus leans against the wall, running a hand down his face.

“What are you doing, Moony?” He asks himself before finally making his way to his own dorm.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The moment Remus exits the bathroom, James is standing right in front of him. Remus raises a brow but when James continues to silently stare at him, he walks around him to finish getting dressed.

“So?” James finally asks, following him.

“So what?” Remus asks as he ties his shoelaces.

“So how’d it go last night?”

Remus freezes, smiling softly to himself before shaking his head.

“It was fine.” He shrugs, standing up and quickly fixing his duvet.

“That’s it?” James asks with a frown, following after Remus as he crosses the room to get his backpack. “Just fine?”

“Yeah.” Remus nods, making sure he has everything he needs before closing his bag.

“What’d you guys talk about?” James continues to interrogate as they make their way out of the dorm and towards the Great Hall.

“Prongs…” Remus sighs.

“What? I can ask, can't I?” James defends. “I’m not doing it to be malicious. I’m asking as a concerned friend-“

“She doesn’t see you as a friend anymore, mate.” Sirius interrupts with a grimace.

“-who is trying to get back the woman he loves.” James continues, acting as if he hadn’t heard Sirius- though the flicker of pain in his eyes says otherwise. “So? What’d you guys talk about?”

“I don’t know, Prongs. Lots of things!” Remus shrugs.

“Yeah. But what exactly?”

“I can’t tell you.” He shakes his head.

“Why not?” James frowns.

“I just- I don’t know… Some of the things were quite personal. They were about her hanahaki and her surgery. I don’t wanna put her business out there…”

“So you’re keeping secrets?” James asks curtly. “Again.”

“I’m respecting her privacy.” Remus responds with a frown.

“Sounds like you’re keeping secrets.” James mumbles to himself.

“You can call it whatever you want.” Remus sighs. “But I already told you that I wasn’t gonna spy on her.”

“He’s right, mate.” Sirius agrees. “You shouldn’t put Moony in the middle of all this. I mean… even more than he already is.”

“It’s not spying!” James argues. “It’s simply talking to her and then sharing everything that she said with me!”

“That’s spying, idiot!” Sirius shouts.

“No it’s not.” James frowns.

“That’s literally the definition of it, Prongs.” Sirius groans.

“Okay, guys-“ Peter interjects with a nervous laugh.

“Alright, fine, whatever. Did she say anything about me?” James asks instead, borderline begging Remus to give him something, anything, even the smallest sliver of hope.

“Just that she doesn’t remember you. Like at all…” Remus tells him, smiling sympathetically. “Sorry Prongs. I specifically asked her… There’s nothing there. She- she doesn’t remember anything about you…”

“Oh…” James mumbles, staring at the ground as he walks. “Well, that’s okay…”

“It is?” Remus, Peter, and Sirius all ask at the same time.

“Yeah.” James nods, looking at his friends with a determined smile. “It’s fine that she doesn’t remember me. It’s brilliant, actually. That means we can start all over again. I can do things right this time.”

“How’re you gonna do that?” Peter asks as they finally reach the Great Hall.

“Simple. I’ll just turn on the good ol’ Potter charm.” He winks before heading towards the Gryffindor table.

“Yeah, because that’s worked out so well for him in the past.” Sirius comments sarcastically.

“I don’t buy the whole optimistically positive thing. So how’s he really doing?” Remus asks Sirius worriedly.

“Oh, you know…” Sirius trails off before sighing. “He missed lunch yesterday. And dinner.”

Remus and Peter nod with a frown.

“I finally found him in the locker rooms, and it was completely trashed… Chairs thrown across the room, pictures of past teams shattered, his broom was broken in two…”

“Merlin’s beard…” Peter curses.

“When I finally got him to stop, he broke down crying…” Sirius sighs dejectedly. “Took me ages to calm him down and even longer to get him to move. Finally managed to put him to bed around one a.m.”

The three boys look at James in concern before following after him and taking a seat, mentally preparing themselves for whatever happens next between the two of you.

You enter the Great Hall a few minutes later and scan the table, looking for your friends.

“Oi! Y/L/N! Over here!” Sirius calls, waving his arm to get your attention.

You wave back at him enthusiastically before heading towards him with a smile. You come to an abrupt stop when you see James sitting with the boys- your boys- once more.

“Y/N! Hi! Good- good morning!” James greets with a smile.

Your smile drops as you stand there, staring at him with a blank expression. James swallows, his own smile starting to waver slightly.

“Can I just take a moment to tell you how absolutely stunning you look this morning?” He asks with a flirty grin, hoping that if he over exaggerates, you won’t be able to tell how nervous he actually is.

“Ew. No.” You grimace.

Confidence shot, James looks to Sirius for help.

“We asked James to join us for breakfast this morning.” He’s quick to interject. “You don’t mind, do you?”

You look away from James, taking in the hopeful expressions on your friends faces before setting your books down with a loud thud.

“I guess not.” You mumble, sitting down and starting to fill your plate up. “It’s not like I have much of a choice.”

Again, James looks to the marauders for support. Peter doesn’t even notice, already shoveling food into his mouth. Remus gives him a sympathetic shrug of his shoulders and Sirius gives him an encouraging thumbs up.

“What?” You ask after a few minutes, voice filled with irritation.

Sirius, Peter and Remus share a confused look before turning to you.

“Wha-“

“Do you need something?” You ask coldly, putting your spoon down and staring right at James.

James stares back with wide eyes, mouth parted in shock before he shakes his head.

“Who? Me? N-no! Everything’s fi-“

“Then can you stop staring at me?” You interrupt.

“S-sorry?” James stammers. He’s choking. He wasn’t expecting to get caught staring and now he’s choking- stuttering over his words like a damn fool. “I wasn’t-“

“I can tell your eyesight is shit.” You tell him bluntly. James subconsciously adjusts his glasses. “And while I can sympathize- or at least pretend to, I’d very much like to enjoy my breakfast in peace without you burning a hole into the side of my head from how piercing your gaze is so either lower it or risk going permanently blind.”

All four boys stare at you in shock, having never heard you speak like this before, let alone to James.

“Your choice.” You shrug with a fake smile before getting back to your breakfast.

James shares an uneasy look with Sirius before lowering his gaze to stare at his plate.

“Right…Sorry.”

“You’re about to be.” You warn before taking a sip of your tea.

Beside you, Peter lets out a high pitched giggle before quickly slapping a hand over his mouth. You turn to look at him with a confused smile.

“Sorry.” He apologizes, sheepishly dropping his hand. “I laugh whenever I feel uncomfortable…”

“You’re so cute.” You coo, pinching his cheek teasingly and laughing when he pulls away from you. “Oh my god, look at how red your ears are! Aw, are you getting shy Peter?”

“Stop.” He whines, covering his ears with his hands. “Let me eat! I have a test today.”

Everyone laughs at that before Sirius changes the topic, bringing up the latest run-in he had with Snivellus.

After a few minutes you scan the table, looking for something before groaning. A napkin is suddenly thrust into your face and you pull back with a surprised frown. You raise a brow at James and he smiles.

“Did ya need a napkin?” He asks, still smiling as he holds his out to you once more.

“No.” You tell him, still frowning.

“Oh…my mistake…” He apologizes, awkwardly putting his napkin back down.

You scan the food in front of you once more before turning your attention to Remus and Sirius.

“Do you see any oranges-“ James suddenly stands from his seat and hurries a few meters down the table before grabbing an orange from the fruit bowl and hurrying back.

He holds the orange up with a triumphant grin, chest heaving slightly as he tries to calm his breathing.

“I got an orange.” He pants.

“Congratulations.” You say simply, looking at him as if he’s crazy.

“Do you want it?” He asks, sitting back down.

You narrow your eyes at him suspiciously before looking at Remus who shakes his head, finding himself just as clueless as you are about the whole situation. You turn your gaze back to James and continue to stare at him.

“It’s yours! Here. Have it.” James announces, placing the orange in front of you. As soon as you start to reach for it, he takes it back, much to your annoyance. “Actually, let me peel it first.”

“Do I look like an idiot to you?” You suddenly ask him.

The four boys look at you with wide eyes.

“Huh?” James asks, confused.

“Do I look like an idiot?” You repeat firmly, holding his gaze.

“No.” James denies, vehemently shaking his head. “Of course not!”

“Then why would you think I can’t peel it myself?”

“I-I was only trying to help…” James says softly, gently setting the orange back on the table.

“Yeah well, I didn’t ask for your help. Nor do I want it. Just like I didn’t want you to compliment me this morning. Get it through your head, creep. I don’t want anything from you.”

The boys watch silently as you stand up and start to gather your belongings.

Wordlessly, James slides the orange across the table, hoping you’ll take it, hoping you'll accept his peace offering, but knowing you won’t.

“Keep it.” You tell James harshly before letting out a tired sigh. “Just, keep it and stay the hell away from me.”

With that, you get the rest of your things and turn around, quickly making your way out of the great hall.

“Was that the Potter charm you were talking about?” Sirius asks awkwardly, if only to ease the tension.

James groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Fuck off, Pads.”

Aww, my little boys !! <3

I love Britain 🇬🇧

Harry and Andrew Garfield at the Valentino show in Paris - 29/09

NEED HIM SO BAD OML

harrystyles: Love On Tour. St. Louis, MO.

Do you ever read a really questionable fanfiction or a spicy love story and think "what the fuck did I just read"

02: Barbie's Dreamhouse.

Joel Miller x f!bimbo!reader. previous. series masterlist. next.

02. Strawberry Lemonade.

warnings: reader stares at joel a lot and finds him hot as hell, reader is dramatic as hell (might be annoying to some), explicit thoughts, suggestive, sarah is alive and 12 years old here, reader thinks she's a homewrecker, not beta read.

summary: you just can't help but gawk at your hot contractor who's working for free, thank god the view is free too. but a revelation makes you question if you're lusting for a married man.

reader's outfit is the blue one of the dolls from the barbie movie (this one under)

You had settled on the couch on the second-floor balcony with a glass and pitcher of cold lemonade and a few snacks, while Joel was up on the roof, using a ladder to climb up to the edges.

There was no mistaking his experience— he made little noise at all, moving around the structure as if it were just another Tuesday. Despite his hardass appearance, he was a very skilled worker.

He eventually climbed down from the roof and headed inside, taking a second to catch his breath before spotting you upstairs.

He was immediately thrown off by the adorable dress— especially the heart detail. But he knew it was rude to stare, so he did his best to keep his eyes on yours.

"That… was actually a lot quicker than I thought it would be," Joel said, clearly pleased. "I should have the rest of the replacement shingles put on in no time at all…"

"Are they pink?" you giggled.

"They're white but I painted over the roof last time, I'll just paint over em' some other day."

"I got some snacks for us. I tested the fridge and it was working too." you poured him a glass of lemonade. "Here, cool off."

Joel took the drink. The cool liquid was very much appreciated after all of that hard work. He took a few swigs from his glass before he looked you over again.

"Thank you…" He nodded, clearly still unable to tear his eyes away from your dress. "Where'd you stay last night?"

"I found a nearby bed and breakfast beside a gasoline station. At least they didn't question why I was all dirty when I checked in." you giggled. "So, what's next?"

"Hmm… the plumbin'. I’m assuming it hasn’t been fixed." Joel's brow furrowed slightly. “The main shutoff doesn’t work very well, so if there’s a leak, you won’t be able to do anything about it. That’s pretty much a priority.”

"Oh, right. Um... so what do we do?"

"Well, we’ve got to find the shutoff for now," Joel said as he set his drink down. It was clear he hadn’t done much plumbing in his life, but from the times he had worked on it, it was also clear he was quite skillful when it came to repairs.

"Follow me. The main one should be in the basement, from what I remember."

"Alright! Lead the way."

You follow Joel as he headed down the stairs into the basement— it was pretty cluttered down there, with lots of old junk strewn around. As he made his way across the room to the back wall, he grabbed an old flashlight and turned it on.

"Hopefully, the shutoff valve ain't coated in any rust," he muttered. "But if it is, might be tougher than expected…"

Sure enough, he found the right valve, but it was covered in that awful orange rust and was completely stuck. He frowned as he studied it.

"Oh… that ain't good. This could be a problem…"

"Oh no... what do we do?"

He looked at you and shrugged.

"We could apply some WD-40 to it and hope that loosens it up. But that’s a long shot. In all honesty, I think we’re gon' need to hire a professional plumber to come in and see what can be done about this."

"Well, uh..." you trailed off. Joel watched as you fidgeted with your fingers as your body grew stiff.

Joel could tell that you were trying your best not to worry, but he really couldn’t come up with any alternative. As much as he hated to ask, he really didn’t think there was another way around it.

"I'll cover it. Don't worry."

"Thank you, Joel." you put your hands behind your back and smiled cheekily at him.

In the course of the next few weeks, Joel hired workers from an electrician to install the chandelier and fix the wiring, to plumbers to fix the plumbing issue. With his own money, nonetheless.

"Thank you, seriously, Joel..." You stared up at the pink jewels dangling off the chandelier in awe.

Joel chuckled softly and was about to respond, but he paused, realizing just how many times he’s heard those same words in just a few weeks.

"You don't have to thank me so much, you know. This was nothing"

"I mean, giving thanks is always a basic human thing." you smiled and placed both of your hands on your hips. "Appreciation can do amazing things."

There was another pause. He shrugged and smirked. "I mean… are you always this appreciative?" he asked, trying to hide his smile.

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"I dunno, I've just never known anyone who can be this appreciative, you know? It’s definitely not something I'm used to hearing…"

There was another pause as he was contemplating what to say.

"It’s just that… you're never gonna make me feel bad for it or anything, right?"

Your shoulders dropped and you tilted your head to the side. "Why would I?"

He sighed.

"I dunno. It's just that most people I know like to take advantage of or make me feel bad for what I do for them. You know, like always makin' me feel like I should do more just because I'm helpin' in the first place. But you don't ever act like that, and… well, I dunno. I guess I haven't been used to it."

"Why would they do such a thing?" you looked offended, furrowing your brows.

"I've always just been surrounded by assholes. I guess it's what's really normal for me. But with you… I mean, the difference is staggerin', isn't it? I guess I'm just now realizin' just how shitty most people that I've known actually are."

You smiled and walked towards him. "And how many people did you offer to fix their house for free?"

He laughed as he thought about it.

"Never before have I offered something like that. Usually, it's more like helpin' 'em fix their car or somethin' like that. So honestly, this is new territory for both of us. Though, even then, you're still much more appreciative than just about anyone I’ve ever come across."

"But I do promise," you held out your pinky finger with a wide smile. "I will pay you back soon."

For some reason, the pinky finger was funny to him. Maybe it was just that you were so genuinely innocent in your promise, or the contrast between how serious of a situation this could potentially be and you being so playful. He took your pinky finger and wrapped his own around yours. He looked you over.

"Do you swear? Because if you don't, there's about to be hell to pay. I take pinky promises quite seriously."

"That's so fun! I always keep my promises."

"I know you will. So this right here is a sign of a promise. And I trust that you will be able to keep that promise, so I don't need you to repay me right away."

"I promise. Cross my heart, hope to die."

He laughed and nodded, his smile growing as he squeezed slightly harder around your pinky. "Okay then. Just remember, you break this pinky promise, and I won't hesitate to let you know just how disappointed I am."

You let out a giggle after letting go of his pinky "Ooooh, I'm so scared."

He laughed as well.

"I think you should be! I'm not usually one to joke around when it comes to stuff like this." he chuckled again. "But just so you know, even though I'd be pretty angry, I really wouldn't have it in me to stay mad at you. You know that by now, right?"

"Why?" you batted your eyelashes at him "Is it because I'm preeeeetty?"

He was trying really hard to suppress his smile and hold back from laughing.

"It is indeed because I think you are pretty…. But I can't deny the fact that you've also become really good at pushin' out my buttons. Even if I really should be furious 'bout all the money I spent on this house, you make it tough not to just smile back at 'cha and forgive ya."

"I know, I'm sorryyyy..." you clasped your hands together and dramatically knelt down in front of him.

He chuckled. "Well, I really mean it. Your personality is one of the most refreshin' personalities I've ever come across in a long time. And I never would have even met you if it weren't for this house and Mags. That has to count for somethin', right?"

"Sentimental value?"

"Yeah, exactly. It's like the universe knew I needed someone like you in my life. Who knew a house could actually lead to a meaningful relationship… I definitely didn't see that comin'."

"The world works in mysterious ways." you shrugged. "Keep up, old man."

Joel laughed louder. There was something about you calling him an old man that he loved, even though he should be offended.

"Watch it, before you start makin' this old man feel his age. My body is just now startin' to fall apart on me, don't give it a reason to start fallin' apart faster than it already is!"

The both of you laughed. You got up from the floor and fixed your dress "So, is there anything else the house needs?"

Joel thought for a moment, finally coming to the realization that the house was probably good for now. It'd definitely need some more work on the interior in time, but at the least, it was liveable.

"Honestly? No, I don't believe there is. I think this house is good for now. I'll keep doin' my check-ins every few weeks or so to make sure that everythin' is alright with the house, but besides that, there's really nothin' more we need to do here."

"So..." you fiddled with your fingers. "What do we do now?"

Joel shrugged. "I'm not sure. I guess we just have ourselves a nice, long moment of standin' here and being proud of the fact that we've both survived the experience of trying to renovate this damn house. It’s a miracle either of us has our sanity still intact."

He laughed as he leaned up against the wall of the dining room.

"You know, you've spent a lot of time here. I've never even seen the inside of your house." you giggled.

"You know you're not wrong, I was here almost every day for weeks on end." his eyes trailed off as he thought and sighed. "I guess I should invite you over sometime then, right? It's not nearly as interesting as this house, but I'm sure you'd love it."

"My house is pink. Big deal." you rolled your eyes and walked towards him, leaning against the kitchen wall "You know every nook and cranny of my house, of course, I deserve to know yours."

"It's only fair."

"Indeed."

You kept staring at Joel. He had some beads of sweat falling from his scalp to his face, and god did he look hotter than hell. You felt like a Victorian lady seeing an ankle.

"Are you single-" your question got muffled by the sound of the doorbell, and turn your head towards the door "Coming!" you said.

You walked towards the door and swung it open, greeted by a young girl. "Hi, is my dad here?"

Your brows furrowed. "Dad?" who could possibly-

"Sarah," Joel said from behind you. Your head immediately snapped towards him and your eyes widened like a deer in headlights. "Have you met my daughter?" he asked you.

You blinked twice. "I-I don't think I have."

You really had no idea he even was a father... or even considered, married.

Sarah looked around the room in awe, her eyes trailing all across the furniture and her expression changing several times as she looked.

"Did you fix this house all by yourself?" she asked Joel, her eyes wide.

Joel cleared his throat and nodded. "Yeah. I rebuilt this whole house pretty much myself— minus the plumbin' and electrician work, which I had hired some guys for. We still have to go through planning on each room, but it's almost done." he pointed towards you. "She's still thinkin' about what to do with all these rooms."

Sarah's facial expression changed to a small smile as she giggled. She turned her head towards you. "Daddy tells me a lot about you. He says you're so nice. The nicest lady he's ever met. Was it all true?”

You were still in a shocked state but you shook your head a bit and gave her a smile. "Why don't you be the judge of that?"

"You're really pretty..." Sarah stared in awe at you.

"Hey, didn't you say you gotta pick up your Girl Scout cookies today?" Joel looked at his wristwatch. "We gotta hurry if you wanna start sellin' 'em tomorrow."

"Oh, right!"

Joel and Sarah waved goodbye to you as they walked out of your house, and you stood there on your porch questioning everything.

"He's... married?" you closed the front door and walked up the stairs, slowly and dramatically. You tried to think of the signs that he was married. Ring? You didn't even notice! Well, not counting the times you stared at his large fingers and imagined them inside of you...

"Oh, god..." the realization hit you. You entered the main bedroom and you fell to your knees. "I'm a homewrecker!" you cried out.

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