Fred x Reader requested by myself. I'm in the mood for some Fred fluff. c: Enjoy.
(Unedited).
It's six in the morning. The sun is just beginning to peer over the trees outside; the birds begin to chirp. You're startled awake by the ringing of the telephone. Your husband, Fred, gets up to answer it. He grumbles about how it's way to early for this on his way to the living room.
You let out a sigh and close your eyes, longing for more sleep. Fred walks in, grabbing his clothes in a hurry.
You open your eyes again. "What is it?" You ask.
"Team needs me. I gotta go." He pushes a comb through his hair once before tugging his teal beanie on his head. He changes his t-shirt quickly.
"This early?" You complain. You sit up and rub your eyes.
"Yeah," He says. He crosses the bedroom and kisses your forehead. "I'll be home soon."
You grab a fistful of his shirt before he can pull away. You slam your lips against his. He caresses your hair. "I love you," You tell him.
"And I love you." He kisses your forehead again and smiles.
"Be careful!" You call out after him.
~
It's midnight, and Fred still hasn't come home. You're sitting on the couch, knees pulled up against your chest, eyes on your phone that sits in your hand. No calls. No texts. Your eyes feel heavy and your hands are shaky. Any time now-- for sure.
It's two in the morning. Your curled up on the couch, messing with the long sleeves of your shirt. Where is he? Is he okay? What's going on? Your anxiety creates a pit in your stomach, digging deeper and deeper with every minute. Your skin is a sickly pale, your hands shaking. Your skin feels cold. You can't focus on anything other than, he's gone he's hurt oh God what do I do; he's gone he's hurt oh God what do I do. Over and over in a continuous loop. You've called Fred multiple times. Send him hundreds of texts. Nothing.
Finally, after what seems like a lifetime of worry, a car honks its horn. You sprint to the door and throw it open. Fred stands there, looking a little bruised and tired. He waves to Wasabi and Hiro, who wave at you. You grab Fred's hand and yank him inside.
"Okay, ow," He complains. You throw your arms around him and bury your face in his t-shirt. "Um, hello to you, too."
"You worried me to death, Fred!" Your voice is muffled by his shirt.
"I'm sorry," He says. "It took forever to track the guy down. Turns out, he was on a boat heading towards China or something. Then he put up a fight; my phone was smashed. . . just a mess."
You look up at him. "I was worried all day." Tears fill your eyes.
"Hey, hey, hey," Fred whispers. He cradles your face in his hands, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. "I'm okay."
You sniffle, your hands grasping Fred's wrist. He frowns at the feeling of your shaky and cold fingers. "I'm sorry that I worried you."
"You should be," You say. You give him a small smile.
"And I seriously am," He mumbles. He kisses your head. "And I seriously am tired."
"Me too," You sigh.
Fred follows you into the bedroom, where he holds you close. Your arms wrap around his torso, your face buried in his neck. He kisses your hair and rubs your back. "I love you," He says. "So much."
You sigh and hug Fred tighter. "I love you, too." You yawn. "So much."
Fred smiles and closes his eyes, loving the sound of your soft snoring in his ear.