#the thing where she insists she tells me that she was gonna have someone over when she didnt has been pissing me off a lot because she

[be-good-to-bugs]

when i feel very lonely i get fizzled out of doing anything after less than an hour

[alisonwritesimagines]

I Was Enchanted to Meet You ~LA!Shanks x Reader~

Summary: Shanks comes back to you before he leaves your village once again. Except this time, it may be your final goodbye.

Author’s Note: I just watched the live action One Piece show and I have to say... I am a slut for Buggy, Shanks, and Mihawk.

Fluff Ending | Angst Ending

Reader’s Pronouns: She/Her

Warnings: angst, some fluff, mentions of smut, reader and Shanks being Luffy's adoptive parents in a way

Side Note: This is a secondary blog. If you comment a question down below, I will not answer since this is not the main blog. Please send the question to my inbox if you want a response back!

Do not repost this anywhere!

You were Luffy's caretaker and teacher. While his grandfather was a high respected Marine, he entrusted you with his grandson whenever he wasn't available to take care of him.

"I'm bored of this," Luffy said as you two were going over some reading.

"A good pirate should know how to read."

"Yeah but I should be preparing to set sail when Shanks comes back," Luffy said.

"How about this? We can go see Shanks today since he is suppose to be back today after we finish our lesson?" You asked him.

"Alright!" Luffy smiled before looking down at his book.

True to your word, you both headed over to the dock where you saw Shanks's ship. You watched as Luffy rushed over to the deck before helping out.

"Luffy! I was wondering when you'd pop up," Shanks said as he finally noticed the small boy. You leaned against the edge while Shanks looked around before finally seeing you. His smile widen a little more before walking over towards you.

"And how are you, my dear Y/n?" Shanks asked as he raised your hand to his lips.

"Nice to see you again Shanks," you smiled at him.

"I'm not joking! I'm ready to join your crew," Luffy insisted to Shanks.

"The sea isn't a child's game. It's dangerous. The scars on my face are proof of that. Besides, I need someone to watch over Y/n and I trust you," Shanks told Luffy as he continued to help his crew unload their ship.

"I can do it, Shanks. I swear," Luffy said.

"You're not ready."

"I am. And I'll show you!" Luffy said before rushing off in the ship. You walked over to Shanks before placing your hand on his. He looked over at you as you gave him a look.

"You really need to be more easy on him. You know how he can be," you tell Shanks.

"Better a disappointed kid now than a dead one later."

"I blame you for being a good pirate and influencing him," you tell him.

"I missed you. Let's celebrate my return tonight together shall we?" Shanks asked you.

"Hey, Shanks!" You heard Luffy. You quickly turned around to see Luffy standing on the top of the view port making you gasp once you saw the knife.

"Luffy! You better come back down here and put that knife back where you found it!" You tell him.

"Listen to Y/n, Luffy. Before you hurt yourself," Shanks called out.

"I'm not afraid of getting hurt. And I'll prove it to you," Luffy yelled before stabbing right below his eye.

"Luffy!" You screamed in shock and horror.

"Get the first aid kit! I'll get him down," Shanks told you. You nodded before rushing out of the ship to grab your first aid kit.

"Why would you do that to yourself?!" You asked Luffy as you stitched him up.

"You could've stabbed your eye," Shanks told him as he sat next to you.

"I was aiming for it, but I missed," Luffy told you.

"Ow," Luffy said as you tightened the stitches a little.

"I thought you said you were tough," Shanks asked him.

"I am! Y/n is just being a little too rough. I want everyone to see my scar," Luffy said.

"Scars don't make the man, Luffy. It's the lesson behind the scar and you didn't earn this one," Shanks told him before tapping his cheek.

"Then let me earn it. I'll be the best pirate ever. Look, I've been practicing what my face is gonna look like on my wanted poster," Luffy said before making a face. You shook your head at him as you gathered your things.

"You are going to give me a heart attack, Luffy," you tell him as you ruffled his hair. You stood up and walked away to put your first aid kit back.

When you made it back to the bar, you saw Shanks walk up to your with your favorite drink. You sat on the chair next to the bar as you faced Shanks. He raised the glasses to you with a smile.

"Have a drink with me," Shanks told you.

"I need to look after Luffy."

"One drink. Then later tonight, you meet me at my ship and we can have our little reunion?" Shanks insisted.

It was no doubt that the two of you had feelings for one another. Shanks loved how soft and caring you were while you loved his gentle touch when it came to you.

"Fine. I hope I don't find anything that belongs to another woman in your ship again," you tell him, remembering the last time you went to his ship after Luffy was asleep.

"It was one time and you know I changed my ways for you," Shanks said as he wrapped his arm around your waist. You took a swing of your drink before giving him a light kiss on the cheek.

Once it became nightfall, you got Luffy ready for bed so you could meet with Shanks. After finding out that he ate a devil fruit, you were livid but you knew that Luffy didn't understand what power and weaknesses the devil fruit had affected him.

"I don't know why you won't let us go with Shanks," Luffy said as you tucked him in.

"You know that the sea isn't for me and you aren't ready to be a pirate. Even if you did eat a devil's fruit," you tell him.

"But you and Shanks love each other. Why can't we just sail with him? I can learn how to be a pirate and I'm stronger now," Luffy said.

"Your grandfather will kill me if I just took you away. And like I said, I am not too fond of the sea. Now it's time for bed for you," you tell him.

"Fine. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight, Luffy."

Once he was fully asleep, you walked over to Shanks's ship where you could see his quarter's lights on. You walked over to his room where he lied on his bed with his shirt off.

"Getting straight to the point now are we?" You teased as you closed the door behind you. You locked the door before walking over towards his bed. Shanks sat up so you could stand in between his legs.

"I missed you, my love," Shanks said as he pulled you down on the bed with him.

He cupped your cheeks as he kissed you passionately. You cupped his cheeks as well, smoothing your thumb against his scars below his eye.

"I missed you too," you tell him in between kisses.

"Let me have you for tonight," Shanks said as he undid your dress. You sat up before slipping it off of your body.

"You're as beautiful as the day I met you," Shanks praised as he sat up to kiss your body.

-

"How long are you staying this time?" You asked him as you both lied in his bed. Your naked bodies was covered by the thin blanket as you both held onto each other.

"Till tomorrow," Shanks told you.

"How long will you be gone?" You asked. Shanks stayed quiet making you look up at him.

"Shanks. How long will you be gone?" You repeated.

"We're not coming back this time, my love," Shanks told you.

"What?"

"Come with me. I'll take care of you and-"

"Shanks, my home is here. And I can't leave Luffy. He's still a growing boy and I could never forgive myself if I were to abandon him," you tell him as you sat up.

"My love-"

"Shanks, I'm not joining you in the sea and you know why. I'm sorry," you tell him as you got up and put your clothes back on.

"Stay the night. Please," Shanks said as he held your hand.

"I can't. I think it's best if we ended this," you tell him.

"I don't want this to end. Please, Y/n. Come with me to find the One Piece and we can live our lives out together," Shanks told you. You shook your head at him before giving him one last kiss.

"I love you, Shanks. But I can't leave here. Not yet at least," you tell him before walking out.

-

The next day, you watched as Shanks says his goodbye to Luffy. You stared as he gave his hat to Luffy before making eye contact with you. He walked over towards you before taking something out of his pocket.

"I saw this while I was away and wanted to give it to you," Shanks said as he held out a beautiful ring.

"Shanks-"

"I just want you to know that I want you, my love. Will you wait for me?" Shanks asked.

"You need to find that one piece soon so you can come back and get me," you tell him with a small smile.

"I'll come back for you. I promise," Shanks said before sliding the ring onto your finger. He quickly gave you a kiss before walking away.

You put an arm around Luffy as you watched Shanks's ship sail off. You both waved at him as he stared at the two of you.

"When I become King of the Pirates, I'll give you a nice home where you and Shanks can live the rest of your lives together," Luffy tells you. You smiled down at him before ruffling his hair.

"I'll hold you to that," you tell him.

[uhyeahnoabsolutelynot]

list of what i personally consider to be joel’s biggest “i forgot that i keep insisting i’m not your dad” moments:

-“well now i have to see it” / “i don’t want you to” just the tone in which he says this and the thing of being like i’m not going to stop this from happening but i’m going to make my disapproval known, very dad

-his face softening and posture opening up a little in ep1 when she’s like “but you know where to go? so we’re gonna be okay” because even though he’s pissed to be babysitting and thinks she’s more trouble than she’s worth, he is not immune to scared little kid

-also ep1, all of his annoyed eyerolling at ellie instantly respecting/listening to tess and not him

-the Single Silent Nod of Capitulation™️

-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask for a gun from a mile away

-becoming increasingly able to sense when ellie is about to ask him to explain something he doesn’t know jackshit about

-saying under his breath “just wait goddamn it” while jogging after her

-loud coffee slurp in response to being told it’s gross

-also, assuming a 14 y/o who grew up in military school would like coffee

-dad infodumping infused with mild griping (i.e. pre-pandemic air travel, gasoline, how fedra cleared the highways)

-“lookit”

-oH i ThouGht yOu weNt tO ScHooL

-“you’re gonna break your neck”/“slow down”/“what did i just say”

-impatiently telling someone to straighten up is very dad

-the white lie about everyone loving contractors and contractors being cool obv

-doing the “is there anything bad in here” / “just you” bit not once but twice. he really does cycle through the same like 6 weak-ass jokes

-asking someone else to navigate while driving and then stressing them out for not navigating well enough for his liking

-being able to guess her favorite astronaut, i am weeping

-laying down 3 ground rules and then pretty much immediately and continually letting ellie get away with breaking 2 out of 3

-starting to look over at her in surprise when she says “i don’t want to talk about it” because it’s the first time that’s happened and he can tell he’s touched on something that really bothers her, and you see him having to wrestle with the dad impulse to be concerned

-when ellie tries to get him not to go after the sniper; impatiently being like ugh come on that guy is not gonna shoot me he literally sucks (pedro’s read of this line always makes me laugh)

-and of course also the follow-up, when he sees he’s going to have to do better than that to convince her that everything will be fine and his tone softens and he asks her to trust him. the “no questions, just do it” to “do you trust me” pipeline bro, fuucckkk

-the wyoming scenes when they’re nearing jackson and joel’s losing his cool a little and acting kinda grumpy and agitated really remind me of when you have to run errands with your parent while they’re in a bad mood

[luv4fushi]

secrecy

jjk megumi fushiguro x fem!reader

hiding your relationship from your loudmouth friends and your energetic teacher is harder than it seems.

content: fluff, established/secret relationship, aged!up megumi (16/17 years old), there is implied/suggestive content because teenagers do stuff (come on, we all know that) but it’s not written out!!! yuji and nobara get the wrong idea and tease the hell out of megumi, that’s all!

wc: 2.1k

click on my masterlist for more!

meeting up after classes are over is always hard.

yuji and nobara are insistent in their spots between the two of you. yuji stays glued to megumi’s side and nobara sneaks her way in between you two. it’s a surprise that neither of them have caught on yet.

megumi’s sudden confession had been blurted out from the doorway of your dorm. you both had been in a pretty gruesome fight; you had needed stitches despite shoko using reverse cursed technique on you, and megumi was injured with a slight limp. he’d been worried even though you paid your wounds no mind.

“take care of yourself,” he’d said through gritted teeth. “i care about you more than you think.”

it had been out of pity more than anything; he had walked you to your room, believing it was his fault that you’d nearly been killed.

still, you acknowledged the warm words through his usual gruffness.

that had led you to today, with yuji and nobara arguing between the two of you. you want nothing more than to relax in your dorm with megumi’s head on your chest, running your fingers through his messy black hair. he’s got a knack for nuzzling into you, breathing in your scent and peppering kisses along your collarbone. it’s his way of telling you he loves you.

“so what d’ya wanna do then?” nobara huffs, frustrated.

“you just said no to every single restaurant i recommended. why don’t you choose?” yuji whines.

nobara crosses her arms. “i’m not choosing because you’re gonna say no.”

“that’s not true,” yuji deflects, furrowing his brows. “i just told you, i don’t care where we eat.”

“i’m gonna head back,” megumi says, clearing his throat. “i’ve got a mission tomorrow and i wanna get some sleep.”

it’s an obvious excuse, at least to you. megumi isn’t lying, though; he has to visit a train station tomorrow to get rid of a nasty curse that’d been formed from an accident. it’s overgrown and estimated to at least be a grade 1 curse, so megumi is being sent by himself because gojo trusts that he can handle it smoothly. megumi is a grade 1 sorcerer, after all, and lately gojo has been trying to get him reevaluated as a special grade.

“you guys have fun,” you announce shortly after megumi trudges away. “i’m gonna go finish my book before my sparring session with maki.”

“whatttt?!” nobara groans. “maki said she was gonna hang with me! someone isn’t telling the truth and i know it’s you!”

you cringe, knowing you’ve been caught in your lie. “oh, that’s right. the session is tomorrow.”

“if you or megumi aren’t going then i won’t go either!” yuji pouts.

“what was the point of us walking all the way out here?” nobara smacks him on the back of his head. “whatever! i’m going to find maki. maybe she’ll wanna eat with me.”

“the third years aren’t gonna hang with you, loser,” yuji says, sticking his tongue out at her.

nobara responds by flicking him off over her shoulder. she’s already long gone by the time you and yuji bid your goodbyes. you take your time on the way back to your dorm, shuffling your feet against the pavement as slowly as you can. the last thing you want is to catch up to yuji on your way to the boys’ dormitory.

you take a quick look around once you start to get close to megumi’s dorm. the sun beams down at you and you begin to sweat nervously. you’ve done this plenty of times before, but it still makes your nerves jitter.

the coast is clear. the bushes don’t seem to be hiding anyone. there doesn’t seem to be a person hiding behind any corners. you make a run for it, nimbly skipping toward the boys’ dormitories. you make a beeline for megumi’s door, which is the furthest one at the end of the hall. yuji’s dorm is across from his, so you make sure your footsteps aren’t too loud. you tap on the doorframe four times, a signal you’d unknowingly came up with in the weeks you and megumi have snuck into each other’s rooms.

megumi swings the door open, his face brightening as he pulls you in. he wastes no time in burying himself into the crook of your neck, inhaling your comforting scent.

“god, i was hoping they’d leave without us back there,” he sighs into your neck. “it took you so long to shake ‘em off.”

your lips stretch into a pretty grin, and megumi nearly melts at the sight. you ruffle his hair and press a kiss onto his redden cheek. “i’m here now, aren’t i?”

megumi would’ve cringed had it been any other couple, but it’s you and him, and all the sweet words you two whisper make him adore the cheesiness of the relationship. he takes you by the hand and nearly crushes you as he lays the both of you down.

napping together is a common occurrence for the two of you. it’s not like you can waltz out with your fingers interlocked because gojo would make fun of you both for the rest of your lives. dating as a jujutsu sorcerer is hard enough, and you two would rather not add him into the mix.

“are you sleepy?” you ask softly. you’re trapped in between his toned arms, your face pressing into his firm chest.

he hums. “you mind?”

“not at all,” you say with a small laugh. “but you gotta get up before dinner, ‘kay?”

you feel him nod. “yeah, just wake me up.”

“‘kay.”

the silence is comfortable, as if you’ve known him for longer than you actually have. he lets himself go when he’s around you, and that fact makes you more prideful than it should. there’s something about megumi fushiguro allowing you to see his vulnerable side that makes you feel all the more important. the boy never, ever removes the scowl off his face unless he’s with you.

“need to take off my clothes,” you complain. “i’m all sweaty from today. gojo sensei had me run a few laps ‘cause nobara snitched about me returning to my room late.”

the corner of megumi’s mouth lifts. “that’s why i told you to leave before sunset. see what happens when you don’t listen?”

you shove his shoulder and unseal yourself from his hold, giving him a glare. “you were the one asking me to stay, you idiot. now give me a shirt.”

he pretends to be annoyed, mumbling something under his breath as he reaches for a shirt hung on the end of his headboard.

“a clean one.” you give him a pointed look.

“i thought you liked my smell?” he looks at you through his lashes.

“your smell, megumi, not your sweat,” you deadpan.

he lets out a laugh and it sounds like music to your ears. perhaps this is what the world means when they say love makes you a different person.

he obliges and walks to his drawer. megumi is changed himself: loose sweatpants hanging on his waist lowly. he has on a white t-shirt and the necklace you had gifted him a week prior. megumi hands you one of his sweaters, which is oversized, but it’s the best he can do. you’d rather not go back to your dorm to change.

megumi turns around so that you can change. he’s awkward and beet red, scratching his head in a moment of tenseness. you slip on his sweater and you’re immediately engulfed in his warm scent. the fabric nearly drowns you as you take off your pants.

“do you have any shorts?” you ask, scanning the room.

megumi’s back is still turned to you. “you took those ones back to your room, remember? did you bring them?”

you shake your head, but then remember that he can’t see you. you duck your head in embarrassment, laughing lightly. “nah, but it’s fine. the shirt’s basically a dress anyway.”

megumi hears the sheets rustle and makes a bold assumption to turn around. he’s met with you sprawled out on the bed, patting the empty space next to you as a wordless invitation.

his eyes crinkle when he grins, which is not something you see everyday. you savor the moment and engrave it into your memory. it’ll make you giddy when you remember it tonight as you get ready for bed.

“love you,” you whisper, making yourself comfortable in his embrace. you feel his fingers caress your arm in loving patterns.

megumi pauses for a split second, but it’s long enough for you to notice. he still has a hard time using his words, but you’re in no rush to change that part of him.

“i love you, too,” he replies in a small voice.

“when did you get so corny?” you tease, your eyes fluttering shut.

“you’re being irritating,” he says. you can tell just from the way he puffs out a little breath that he’s rolling his eyes in distaste. “it’s your fault for making me all gross and corny. yuji would never stop making fun of me if he saw us right now.”

“megumi!” a knock interrupts him. it’s yuji, who calls from outside the door. “gojo-sensei needs us real quick! read your damn text messages for once!”

megumi freezes and your head perks up. your eyes are wide with fear and slight amusement. this has never happened before. megumi presses a finger to your lips, shushing you, before he yells out an irritated, “what does he want?”

“he says we gotta go see him in his office! check your phone.” yuji’s voice is muffled. he bangs on the door once more.

your breathing is shallow. there’s a sort of excitement in the air at the thought of possibly being caught, but the anxiety of it all overpasses that. you refuse to move, afraid that the loud sheets will give it away to yuji that you’re in the same bed as megumi.

“is the door locked?” you whisper lowly.

megumi’s eyes narrow. “i… i think so. i don’t know.”

“what do you mean you don’t know?”

“i was excited to see you… i’m not—i don’t remember locking it.”

“i’m sure you did,” you convince yourself out loud, “you always do.”

“and tell y/n that she’s gotta come out too!” nobara’s voice rings out.

you feel your body grow hot in humiliation.

once you’re all in gojo’s office, the white-haired man gives you and megumi a hard stare. he has a lazy smirk plastered on his face, his blindfold pushed down on his neck solely so that he can show off the mischievous glint in his eyes.

“let me make one thing clear,” gojo begins, “no boys in the girls’ dorms.”

yuji scrunches his nose.

“and no girls in the boys’ dorms. we all know this already, don’t we?”

“duh. is that all?” nobara says, shifting her weight on to her left leg. she looks amused.

“y/n,” gojo says, causing your eyes to flicker up at him, “run 30 laps. you’ve broken the rules.”

your jaw drops open. it had been embarrassing enough to quickly throw on your pants and rush out of megumi’s room with nobara and yuji’s smug faces trailing behind you.

“no buts,” he adds when he notices your apprehension.

you frown.

“i’ll take half,” megumi mutters, the annoyance leaking into his tone. “she’ll do 15 and i’ll do 15. we both broke the rules, so punish us fairly.”

gojo’s smirk widens. “i wasn’t finished, fushiguro. you’re gonna run 30 as well… but i guess it’s 45 now? isn’t that sweet of you? protecting your girl~”

“gojo-sensei… y/n is wearing megumi’s shirt…” yuji pretends to gag. “we all know what that—”

megumi shoots a glare at him. if eyes could kill, yuji would be six feet under. “don’t be fucking gross, yuji. it’s not like that.”

you tug at his t-shirt, eyes averting gojo’s. megumi’s behavior is only going to punish the two of you more. the whole situation is already making you want to curl up into a ball and die, and you want it to be over with already.

“oh my god, you’re right, yuji. that’s…. that’s very scandalous.” nobara brings a hand to cover her opened mouth.

“don’t piss me off,” megumi threatens. “it’s not anything like what you two are thinking. don’t be weird about it.”

gojo opens his mouth to speak, but megumi is quicker. he drags you out of the office and the two of you make it to the track field. the red of the field matches the red in megumi’s face. it’s ridiculously hilarious now that you’re really looking at it.

“let’s run our laps. 15 for you, 45 for me.”

you giggle and pull him in for a kiss. “thank you, megumi, but i can handle 30 just fine. we just have to get better at sneaking around, don’t we?”

“yeah…” he says, his composure breaking. “ah, whatever. they know anyway. let’s just start going out, hm? they can’t control us outside of school grounds.”

from somewhere inside the school, you can hear nobara celebrate over winning $50.

a/n: this was SO FUN TO WRITE. i have so many drafts and drabbles so i decided to just post one! none of it is canon blah blah idc IM A SUCKER FOR SOFT MEGUMI!!! he’s the epitome of “i hate everyone but you” HOPE U ENJOYED

[waitimcomingtoo]

Come See About Me

Pairing: Tom Holland x reader

Synopsis: Tom realizes he got you all wrong and slowly falls as he learns more about you during the press tour

Masterlist

“Oh shoot. I’m press with Y/n all week.” Tom said as he read an email from his team.

“Is that a bad thing?” Harry asked him.

“Not necessarily. I just don’t really know her that well. She was super reserved on set for the few days I shot with her. I wonder why they paired me with her.”

“Well, you’re the same age, right? The movie team probably just want to start romance rumors for publicity.”

“I don’t think that will happen. I barely got to know her during filming. I doubt anyone will see chemistry between us.” Tom replied. He started pacing around his hotel room and felt uncharacteristically nervous for the day ahead.

“Well for your sake, let’s hope you don’t see chemistry between you either.” Harry snorted.

“How do you mean?” Tom frowned.

“You know how messy relationships in the public eye can be. Just don’t go falling in love with this girl, okay? I do not want to watch you pine after your dark and mysterious costar.” Harry warned him.

“Psh. I won’t fall in love with her. That would never happen.” Tom scoffed and continued scrolling through his phone. He ended up on Instagram and saw that you had recently posted a photo. It was just a simple selfie in your hotel room which was probably just a few doors down from Tom’s. He found himself smiling and gave the photo a like. He may not have gotten to know you on set, but there’s no reason he couldn’t get to know you now.

“But if I did, why would that be bad?” Tom asked as he deep stalked your Instagram.

“The way I see it, there are two outcomes if you choose to pursue her. Option one is you get swept up in the excitement of promoting the movie and start reading into every little interaction between the two of you because that’s what the public is doing. So you convince yourself you’re in love with her and maybe she’ll even convince herself of the same thing. But once the press tour is over and you get to be with each other without any reason or purpose, you realize you never actually liked each other. And that’ll just end up breaking both your hearts. Even worse if only one of you realizes you never actually liked the other. God. That would be a nightmare.” Harry shivered.

“Okay.” Tom said slowly. “That was oddly specific. So what’s the other outcome?”

“You fall in love with her on this press tour and then it ends before you get a chance to tell her. So she flies off to film another movie and you’re stuck kicking yourself for not being honest with her sooner. And I’m stuck watching you whine about it.” Harry said simply.

“Or, hear me out, secret third option.” Tom proposed. “I fall for her and she falls for me and we have a great relationship. And maybe it lasts and maybe it doesn’t. But at least we gave it a shot. That could happen, right?”

“Maybe. But either way, she’s getting on a plane at the end of this press tour. And you can’t fall in love with someone who’s worlds away. Remember that.” Harry reminded him.

“I’m not gonna fall in love with her.” Tom insisted.

“Promise?” Harry asked skeptically.

“Yeah. Promise.” Tom said weakly. He looked at your picture one more time before shutting his phone off.

The next morning, Tom got into a black van that was going to take the cast to the building where the interviews were taking place. You got into the car shortly after with a huge smile on your face that Tom had never seen before. You were in a nice dress and full glam already, unintentionally earning yourself Tom’s full attention.

“Good morning.” You said enthusiastically as you sat in the seat beside him. He was slightly taken aback by how friendly you were being since he had only ever seen you being quiet and reserved.

“Oh, hello.” He smiled in surprise. “Good morning to you too, darling. How are you doing?”

“I’m really excited for today.” You admitted. “I haven’t done a big press tour like this before. I know they can be a little boring and repetitive but I can’t wait.”

“Yeah. These tours are pretty crazy. You get to see a lot of amazing places which is really cool. But you also get to answer the same question 100 times a day for a month straight. You’ll learn the highs and the lows pretty soon.”

“I’m ready for it all. But thanks for the warning. I appreciate any tips I can get.” You chuckled.

“You’re welcome. And don’t worry. You’ll get used to waking up at the crack of dawn and having a bunch of people you’ve never met poke you with makeup and hair stuff.”

“When?” You asked through a yawn. “Because I have a full face of makeup on before my brain is fully awake and it feels so very, very wrong.”

“Not soon enough.” He sighed. “I’ve learned to stay half asleep while the nice ladies apply my concealer.”

“Oh, so this complexion isn’t natural?” You teased and pointed to his face.

“Nope. You’re not the only one in full glam right now, darling.” He humored you, making you laugh.

“Careful. You don’t know if you can’t trust me yet. I might sell that piece of bad boy information to a news site and get you exposed.” You warned. It was Tom’s turn to laugh and he felt amazed that he had never seen this side of your personality before.

“I hope you don’t. I was just about to say that I’m glad I can share your first big press tour with you but now I feel we may have begun an enemies arch.”

“No. We can’t be enemies.” You whined playfully. “Because I was gonna say that I’m glad you’re here too. You always seem so relaxed and funny in interviews. I’m really hoping I don’t come off as nervous as I feel today.”

“Don’t worry. You won’t. It’ll feel just like a conversation.” He assured you. He was pleased to know you were a watcher of his interviews and wondered what else he’d uncover about you that day.

“Thank. I really appreciate you helping me with all this.”You said sincerely.

“It’s no trouble. If you have any other questions, just ask. I’ll help wherever I can.” He told you.

“Thanks, Tom.” You smiled at him. He smiled back and suddenly remembered what Harry had said the night before about not falling in love with you. Tom was just one conversation in and already struggling to keep his promise.

Once the van arrived at the building, you and Tom had makeup touch ups and were then sent into the junket room.

“Wow. I haven’t seen the poster yet.” You gasped and touched the poster with gentle fingertips. Tom watched you admiring it and smiled when he saw how proud you looked.

“You look good up there. I hope to see you on more posters.” He said and nudged you slightly.

“Like in Playboy?” You asked and looked insulted.

“What?” Tom gulped. “No, no, no. I didn’t-“

“I’m just messing with you.” You cut him off and nudged him back. He felt his hearts too racing and cracked a smile.

“You really had me for a second there, darling. I didn’t realize you had such a sense of humor. I guess I never heard you say much on set.”

“Thats because I found it hard to shake my character after filming all day. I guess I’m not used to separating that yet. I loved my character and all but I’m so glad to be done shooting her. She’s so dark and dramatic. It really affected my mood on set.” You told him as you both sat down in your chairs.

“Oh, wow. So you’re not quiet? You were just in character?”

“Quiet? I’ve never been described as quiet.” You laughed. “I was just in my emo phase on set because the material I was shooting was so dark. It bummed me out all day.”

“But you’re not bummed out today?” He asked with a coy smile.

“Fuck no. I’m ready to party.” You whispered to him just as the journalist came in. He burst out laughing at the unexpected expletive and earned himself a look from the journalist.

“Well alright then.” He chuckled.

That was the first of many times you made Tom laugh that day. The more interviews you did together, the more he learned about you and your personality. He paid attention to every anecdote and personal story you shared and was more and more fascinated each time.

When it came time for day two of the press tour, he could not wait to get back in there with you. The interviews were in the hotel that day and Tom got to the junket room first. When you got there, you handed him a hot cup of tea.

“For you.” You smiled and sat beside him. Tom looked at you curiously and you gestured for him to sip it. He took a sip and widened his eyes when he tasted it.

“This is exactly how I take my tea.” He said incredulous.

“I know. I was listening when you ordered at breakfast yesterday.” You said proudly.

“Thank you, darling. I really appreciate that.” He smiled fondly at you before taking another sip.

“Well I wanted to thank you for all your help yesterday.” You smiled shyly. “I was really nervous yesterday until we talked in the car. You made my first press day really memorable. So I did the normal courtesy of eavesdropping on you and brought you your favorite tea.”

“That was very kind of you. And you made my day yesterday a lot better than I was expecting so I should be thanking you too.”

“Then I’ll loudly tell someone else my favorite way to drink tea so that you can eavesdrop and surprise me.” You joked as the journalist walked in.

“How are you guys doing today?” The journalist asked to start the interview.

“I’m doing really well now that Y/n brought me tea.” Tom answered and took another sip.

“I’m also doing really well but because Tom didn’t bring me tea.” You said and looked at Tom to see if he found it funny.

“Why would that make you happy?” He laughed.

“Because I hate tea.” You shrugged.

“What? Don’t you know that is the worst thing you can say to an English person? And you just told me you had a favorite tea.”

“That was a joke. I actually hate tea.” You admitted.

“How can anyone hate tea?” Tom asked in exasperation.

“It’s just like hot, flavored water. I don’t understand what’s good about it. I hate soup too.“

“Soup too?” Tom gasped and pretended to clutch his petals.

“I think soup is so nasty. Why would I ever want to eat hot blended food?”

“If you hate soup and you hate tea, then what do you do when you’re sick?”

“I watch Fantastic Mr. Fox under my covers like a normal person.” You answered, making him laugh.

“This is very disturbing information to learn so early in the morning. You’ve surprised me, darling.”

“I’m sorry you had to find out like this.” You shrugged with a laugh.

The next day, Tom was pleased to see you already waiting in your chair for the interview to start. You were texting on your phone but looked up when he came into the room. Your makeup artists was touching up your lipstick so you couldn’t smile at him and opted for a wink. He found himself blushing at the wink and sat beside you.

“Morning, darling.”

“Good morning. No tea today?” You teased.

“I’ve already had my tea, for your information. I chugged it while I got my makeup done.”

You laughed but he wasn’t actually kidding about getting his makeup done. He was just happy that it made you laugh. Your makeup artists finished up and you checked your makeup in your phone camera.

“You look pretty.” Tom said before he could stop himself. You looked over at him in surprise before smiling.

“Why, thanks. So do you.” You said and shot him another wink. He blushed and looked down at his lap at the compliment.

“God, I’m gonna be thinking about lunch this entire interview.” You whispered to him.

“You didn’t eat at the craft service table?”

“I can’t eat that early in the morning.” You waved your hand. “It makes me nauseous. Now I’m wishing I did though. My kingdom for a cheese stick.”

“I hate cheese.” Tom grimaced.

“What? Even in stick form?” You asked him.

“Even in stick form.” He humored you. “And you can’t judge me because you hate the two most comforting foods on earth.”

“I’m judging you so hard right now.” You mumbled. Tom laughed as an idea came to him.

Before your next interview, Tom made a quick stop at the bakery across the street. You were already in the room waiting to start by the time he got back. He quickly fixed his hair before holding out a little brown paper bag.

“For you.” He said with a bashful smile.

“What is this?” You asked as you took the bag.

“Open it.” He said as he sat beside you. You gave him a curious look before opening the bag.

“Scone?” You gasped and looked up at him.

“Scone!” He smiled proudly.

“You got me a scone? Why?” You wondered and took the stone out of the bag.

“Because it was easier to find than a cheese stick.” He chuckled.

“I love you.” You cupped his chin before taking a bite of the scone. Tom froze and felt his face turn bright red at your words. You realized he had gone quiet and looked over at him.

“Sorry. Was it too soon to say that?” You asked with a mouthful of scone.

“I think so. Aren’t you supposed to wait three months?” He chuckled and touched a cold hand to his burning face.

“Too bad. The introduction of the scone sped up our relationship and now we’re in love.” You shrugged and took another bite. Tom laughed again and looked down at his laugh.

“So, uh, speaking of our relationship. Have you seen the way fans have been shipping us since our last few interviews hit the Internet? How weird is that?” He said and forced a laugh. He didn’t actually find it weird, he just wanted it see how you felt about the possibility of a relationship.

“I was actually deep into the fan edits last night to be perfectly honest with you.” You said through a laugh.

“Were you?” He asked in surprise.

“I was. And I heard that we’ve been secretly dating since May. Did you know that?”

“I did. I forgot to tell you. I’m sorry, darling. It must’ve slipped my mind.” He played along.

“That’s okay. I can’t be mad at you since you blessed me with a scone.”

The journalist came in once you had finished your scone and the interview began. Tom was barely paying attention to the questions and only focused on hearing your answers. He loved that he wasn’t getting to learn new things about you that he was too shy to ask.

“Unpopular opinion?” The journalist asked.

“A lot of people think cats are girls and dogs are boys but the real take here is that all seagulls are boys.”

“Woah, what? What makes all seagulls boys?” Tom asked you.

“A girl would never act like that.” You said simply, making Tom laugh.

“My unpopular opinion is that Y/n’s best movie is Look Mom, No Hands.” Tom said, making you burst out laughing.

“I know you did not just bring up my Disney Chanel original movie from when I was 11.”

“Yes I did. Because I watched it last night and I cried when you made the winning goal even after your glasses broke from the soccer ball hitting you in the face.”

“Oh my God.” You laughed. “The drama.”

“It was! The opposing team totally kicked it into your face on purpose because they knew you were the underdog. But nevertheless, she persisted. You made the winning goal and your team won the championship.”

“Wow. Way to spoil my movie from 15 years ago. And why were you even watching that?”

“Because I needed to know who I was working with everyday. It’s a part of your lore. Now that I know you’ve starred in a DCOM, I know I can trust you.”

“I was not the star. Bridget Mendler was the star. I was just the quirky best friend.” You reminded him, making Tom laugh.

“Well you were the only one I was looking at, okay darling? You were the star for me.” He said as he looked over at you. You smiled at his answer and nodded your head.

“Good answer. Favorite snack?” The journalist asked.

“Oh no. You’re gonna think I’m weird.” You smiled sheepishly.

“What? I could never, darling. What is it?” Tom asked and turned in his chair to face you.

“I put mustard on popcorn.” You grimaced.

“What the hell?” Tom’s nose scrunched in disgust.

“See! I knew you’d think I was a little freak.”

“Mustard? On popcorn? Why would anyone do that?”

“You’re thinking it’s worse than it is. Yellow mustard on lightly salted popcorn is really good, okay? Don’t knock it until you try it.”

“You’re gonna have to make it for me. Because I cannot imagine it’s good.” Tom shook his head.

“If I can get my hands on some mustard during this press tour, I will be at your door in a heartbeat.”

“It’s a date.”Tom replied, making you smile.

“It better be.” You answered, and he returned the smile.

Tom was fully in it now. Every second that he wasn’t with you, you were the only thing on his mind. You started spending your evenings together and grabbed dinner every night after your interviews. He was falling fast and getting worse and worse at hiding it. He posted a photo of the two of you that the paparazzi had taken while you were out to dinner and captioned it “I’d wait out in the cold all night just to take pictures of her too”. He tagged you and it wasn’t long before you were in his comments saying “he’s so obsessed with me it’s honestly embarrassing”. He smiled at the comment and wrote back “yes, and?” before going to bed.

The press tour was coming to an end and on the last day, Tom walked into the junket room to find only one chair in the room.

“Oh. No Y/n?” Tom asked his manager.

“Nope. Solo interviews today.” They replied. Tom faked a smile and sat in his chair. He hoped his disappointment wasn’t as obvious as it felt as he gave the interview alone. He did a few more solo interviews throughout the day and eventually got to his last one. It wasn’t long before the door opened up and you walked into the room with Tom’s water bottle.

“Hi. I’m crashing. Sorry.” You smiled sheepishly and walked into the room.

“That’s quite all right. Do you want a chair?” The journalist asked you.

“I’m good.” You smiled politely and sat on Tom’s knee. He immediately blushed and looked up at you.

“What are you doing here, darling?” Tom grinned.

“I finished early so I brought you juice.” You said and handed him the water bottle.

“What? No way.” He smiled in appreciation and opened up the water bottle to see apple juice inside.

“Juice!” You cheered.

“Juice!” He echoed. “Thank you, darling. What a nice surprise.”

“Well I had to get you back for the scone.“ You told him.

“So Tom, I have to ask about your Instagram post from yesterday. You tagged Y/n in an interesting place, Tom. Care to comment on that?” The journalist asked now that you had joined the interview.

“He tagged me there because it’s where you can usually find me.” You chuckled.

“Wait, I’m lost? Where did I tag her?” Tom asked. You and the journalist exchanged a look before you pulled out your phone to show Tom his own post from the night before. He had accidentally tagged you right on his crotch, making him turn red when he saw his mistake. And when he pieced together what you meant by what you had just said, he turned even redder.

“Oh my God. I swear, I’m just Instagram stupid. I didn’t mean to tag her there.” Tom explained.

“Yes he did. He tagged me in my location. Because that’s where I am.” You kept up the joke just to tease him.

“Where?” The journalist laughed.

“On Tom’s dick.” You shrugged. Tom covered his red face with his hands as you and the journalist laughed.

“People know that about me. If they can’t find me, they don’t ask “hey where’s Y/n?” because they already know where I am. It’s my happy place. My sanctuary. My home away from home.” You continued.

“No. No more. My mum watched these.” He playfully scolded you.

“Hey, you started this.” You reminded him.

“And I’m ending it.”

“Actually, I’m the one who has to end it. That’s all the time we have. Thanks guys.” The journalist said. The last interview was done, meaning the press tour was officially over. You stood up and adjusted your skirt before looking at Tom. He smiled softly but felt his disappointment return. The tour was over which meant today was his last day with you. He knew you’d keep in touch, but it would never be like this again, and that’s made him sad.

Instead of wallowing in his sadness, Tom did something about it. He stopped by the corner store before making his way to your hotel room. In his way there, he ran into his brother Harry. Harry took one look at the bag of popcorn in his hands and knew what was happening.

“You fell in love with her, didn’t you?” Harry snorted.

“Shut up.” Tom groaned. “I can still fire you.”

“You did the one thing you said you wouldn’t do. Now look at you. One your way to eat the most American combination of foods I have ever seen. You’re a disgrace to your homeland.”

“I couldn’t help it, okay? She made me fall for her. It’s all her fault, really. Now leave me alone. I have a girl to surprise with a disgusting snack.” Tom said and went on his way. He took a deep breath before knocking on your door. You opened your door for him and he held up his bag of supplies.

“Hey, you. What’s this?”You raised an eyebrow.

“Mustard and popcorn. You little freak.” He said with a teasing smile. Your lips curved into a smile as you stared at him.

“Get in here.” You instructed.

He went into your room and shut the door behind him as you poured the bag popcorn into two bowls. He did his best to hide his disgust as you squirt mustard over them both.

“Here. You’re gonna love this.” You said as you handed him his bowl.

“It smells like mustard.” He grimaced.

“Well, that’s 50% of the ingredients.”

“Okay. I’m doing it. I’m eating one.” He said and popped a mustard covered piece of popcorn into his mouth. You watched him as he chewed it and could tell he hated it.

“Well?” You asked.

“I’m gonna throw up.” He answered.

“Spit it out.” You laughed.

“No. You like this so I’m gonna force myself to like it too.” He said a begrudgingly swallowed the popcorn. You laughed at him but your smile slowly faded and you looked a little upset.

“What’s on your mind?” He asked you.

“I don’t know. I’m feeling kinda down tonight.” You told him.

“You are? What’s bothering you?”

“I guess I’m just sad the tours over. I don’t like when things end.” You admitted with a sad smile.

“I’m sad it’s over too. They usually exhaust me but I don’t know. I particularly enjoyed this one.” Tom replied sheepishly without meeting your eyes.

“You did?” You asked as you ate your popcorn.

“I did. Mostly because I enjoyed getting to know you.” He admitted and finally looked up at you. You smiled in surprise and scooted closer to him. Tom gulped and looked down at his lap. The tour was officially over so if he didn’t want you to get on a plane without ever knowing how he felt, he was gonna have to speak now.

“You know, before the tour started, my brother made me promise that I wasn’t gonna fall for you.” Tom admitted.

“What?” You laughed softly. “Why would he make you promise that?”

“I don’t know. He said it would only end in two ways.” Tom said and looked into your eyes with a sheepish smile.

“Which were?” You wondered.

“We get caught up in the excitement of the movie so we start a fling and then breakup when the tour ends.”

“Well that didn’t happen. So what was the other option?”

“I fall for you and never tell you. And the tour ends and you get on a plane and I regret it for the rest of my life. But I guess that option didn’t happen either since I told you.” He said as he never dropped your gaze. You stared into his eyes for a moment as you processed what he had just admitted.

“Well, what if there was a secret third option?”

“Secret third option?” Tom asked with intrigue.

“I mean, just because the tour is ending that doesn’t mean it has to be the end of you and me, does it?” You said and leaned in even closer.

“It doesn’t?” He gulped at your close proximity.

“I don’t think so. And look. You bought me food. That makes this is our first date.” You explained as you held up your bowl of popcorn.

“Well I’m happy to hear that but don’t expect a kiss with your mustard breath.” Tom mumbled out of the corner of his mouth.

“What was that?” You played along.

“I said you’re so pretty and I have a giant crush on you and want us to be together.” He said quickly.

“Much better.” You smiled and popped some popcorn into your mouth.

Tag List 🏷️

@thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling

@tom-hollands-wifey

@whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings

@imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101

@peterparkoure

@justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr

@emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland

@sovereignparker @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @eridanuswave​ ​

@solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant

@quaksonhehe @lovelessdagger

@thesuitelifeofafangirl @marshxx @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie

@maybemona

@alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom

@pandaxnienke

 @officialsimppage @peterbenjiparker @itsemohours

@freakofmusic25 @tomholland85

@olixerwxxd @leilanixx

@whereismytelephone @so-very-asleep @white-wolf1940

@spideyspeaches @hihiweezing

@mathletemadison  

@dhtomholland @insomniac-nerd-posts-things @prancerrparkerr

@hallecarey1 @adayasgeorgia @blackwidowisthebest @imawhoreforu

@ciarahollands

@nellabellaa @pinklxmonade @boogywoogywoogy

[koolades-world]

Hello there! hope your day is going good and if not I hope it gets better.

I was wondering if I could request a scenario (you can do headcanon format) Where Mc is in a life or death because a lower demon is about to kill them and Mc actually kills the lower demon with their own magic. how would the undatables react/comfort Mc after they killed someone because their life was in danger.

Thank you in advance if you do decide to write and make sure to stay hydrated!

hi there! i can do that :)

hope you're having a great day too <3 just drank water with a liquid iv in it so hopefully im super hydrated now haha. i've had a bit of a sore throat for the past few days now so i've been really chugging water better than i usually have which says a lot! love me my 30 oz water bottle that goes everywhere with me

enjoy!

Undatables react to Mc killing a lower demon while defending themself

Diavolo

he's very proud of you but quickly goes on high alert

you've never seen him more serious

he's doing all sorts of things such as upping security measures and looking into the background of the now deceased demon to ensure your safety and to make sure there wasn't anything more behind the attack

he makes sure to give you a huge hug and lets you know exactly how he feels <3

Barbatos

if you hadn't killed them, he would've finished the job for you

since there's no work there for him to do, he'll be taking a visit to see that demon's relatives in the near future

in the meantime, he'll help you unwind and try to take your mind off it

perhaps a tea party with all your favorite treats and little d's there, if you'd like :)

Simeon

he won't ask questions and he'll heal you no matter what

even if you didn't get very hurt, he insists you stay under his care for a little bit

you'll get the best bedside care and soup ever

let him dote on you, it'll make him feel better too knowing you're safe in his arms <3

Luke

he's immediately freaking out

what do you mean a lower demon tried to kill you!!!

100% in tears and refuses to let you out of death grip hug he has on you

the next day, he gifts you an amulet with an angelic blessing on it and asks you to carry it everywhere with you. doesn't care if that means the brothers can't get anywhere near you now. better for him that way anyways haha

Solomon

he's very impressed!

gah they grow up so fast. it felt like just yesterday he gave you the nickname of his apprentice

deep underneath his gushing, he's worried but he knows that you're capable

even goes as far as to give a few little tips for the future. love at it's finest haha

Mephisto

he's furious with himself that he even let you get in that situation

he almost feels as if he's failed you, but he tries to hold up a facade of nonchalantness

it won't take much coaxing to break down this barrier and see how upset he actually is

if you notice him being extra loving in the next week or so, try not to comment on it but accept his affections

Thirteen

she's with you as much as she can be, but she knows it's just impossible to be by your side all the time

she's angry at herself and the now dead lower demon because that window of time when she's away is never very large

but, she knows you are more than strong enough to take care of yourself if it wasn't already apparent before

she'll make excuse after excuse to be with you until she eventually just spills the beans. she really cares about you <33

Raphael

he's gonna check you at least three times over to make sure you're alright

but right after he almost scolds you, in a loving way

he tells you he should've been the one to do it and that he should've been by your side

he was just very nervous he could've lost you, but is so proud of how you stood up for yourself <3

[nohoney]

Bakugou is stupid.

He’s the type to think that as long as he never actually crossed some physical boundary in a relationship then he wasn’t doing anything wrong. To him when the two of you were fighting, he was just going to someone who would understand him more than the arguing you were ready to give back. He’d be heard out and feeling refreshed and better, but yet he’d sour when he was back with you. You’d ask if he was ready to resolve the fight after needing space and he didn’t realize what his actions were doing to you when he left the way he did.

He’d send text messages like ‘you make me feel better��� to the other person but only ‘okay’ when it came to you.

When some type of good news happened, instead of telling you right away he’s telling the other person. When Bakugou feels like he’s catching some type of attitude from you over something stupid to him, he’s telling this other person.

What he doesn’t know is that he accidentally made this secret ghost between the two of you. One that haunted the relationship the deeper the chasm split the two of you. One that he didn’t mean to summon but was becoming more and more tangible with each passing moment he chose to keep his eyes on this other person rather than you.

“I have feelings for you.”

Bakugou’s heart stopped upon hearing those words. He was on a walk and ranting about another fight with you, wanting to get these ugly feelings out and wanting to feel better. As usual he ran to this person to hear him out, give him advice that he’d say he follow but not actually do, and would want to just skip to the part where they make him feel better and laugh before he leaves to a bitter you sitting on the couch. “What?” He dumbly asks.

“I have feelings for you.” They repeat.

He’s silent, an uncomfortable squeezing in his chest and he thinks of you instantly. If you heard this, you would not hesitate to rip this person apart. He already knew you didn’t like them because of the time he spent with this other person but you were always the jealous type from the very beginning. The two of you already had arguments about how frequently he left and how you didn’t like that he wouldn’t tell you right away he’d be with them.

Bakugou realizes now that you were right. He hates your jealousy, it was one of the things that made him feel suffocated sometimes. He didn’t like to talk about it over and over and over with you that he only wanted to be with you but you insisting that he was doing something wrong to make you feel this way.

“You know I’m with her.” Bakugou states but he feels a thickness in his voice when he speaks. For the first time, he feels guilt being around this person.

“Do you even want to be? You always come to me when you’re fighting with her and you tell me how much I understand you more, that you feel heard when she doesn’t do it for you. I think you don’t want to be with her.”

But Bakugou does, he does want to be with you. You’re in a shitty spot right now in the relationship, it’s been that way for a few months, but he still stuck around because he wanted to keep trying. You had it hard before and he wanted to be the one to show you that not all relationships end up with you being cheated on or abandoned.

He realizes now that he played into those fears, that every time he hid a text message or came back to reveal his whereabouts after the fact that you’d think of him as just another shitty, cheating guy. That even though he had never crossed any physical boundaries, Bakugou was crossing all the emotional ones and he felt guilty now that it struck him.

“I gotta go.” Bakugou briskly walks in the direction of his car.

“Are you fucking serious?! You spend all this time with me bitching about her and telling me that you feel better when you’re around me, and you’re gonna leave me like this?!”

Bakugou did feel a certain type of way with this person, this person that did understand him when you were having a hard time trying to, this person who knew the right things to say when he was in a bad mood, he did enjoy being with them.

But Bakugou wants you.

He has to show it and he only hopes that he hasn’t hurt you too bad so that he can reverse the damage. He comes back to the apartment and he can hear you ranting inside the bedroom with the door open just a crack.

“He’s always leaving when we have a fight and I know he’s with that little bitch right now and when he comes back, he’s gonna say nothing happened! I don’t know if I can stand one more guy lying to my face!” You angrily admit to whoever the person is you’re talking to, most likely your best friend. “I need—I’m gonna break up with him. I can’t stand this anymore with Katsuki. I’m fucking done with-“

Bakugou barges in when he hears those words, his heart hammering in his chest and he hopes that this isn’t too late for him to apologize and admit he was wrong.

You’re startled by his presence, looking offended at first before you sigh and telling the person on the phone that you would call them later.

“You’re back? Feeling better? Feeling refreshed?” You spit the last word with bitterness dripping off the last syllable. Bakugou used those exact words in his messages to the other person, messages that you read going through his phone whenever he’d forget to delete the text chain. “Have fun being with your lil fling?”

“Baby, it wasn’t like that.” Bakugou tries to explain and he needs to speak quickly before you pronounce the end of the relationship, “I shouldn’t—you’re right that I shouldn’t have done that to you. I shouldn’t have kept on leaving whenever we have a shitty argument. You’re right baby, okay?”

You look doubtful at him, searching his eyes and his body language for any kind of lie. Lies that you’re all too good at detecting because of how many times you’ve been screwed over. It’s almost like you’re angry that Bakugou presented himself with sincerity, that you wanted to look for a reason to stay upset with him. But you also sense that something is wrong and ask, “… what happened?”

“They… said they had feelings for me.” Bakugou confesses and he sees how anger flares in your eyes. He catches you by your arm when you try to walk past him because he knows that you want to go swing your fist in the other person’s face; he’s seen you do it before when another girl actually kissed him at a friend’s housewarming party. “Baby, no. I came here. I came straight here after they said that.”

“You came straight here to what? Came straight here to break up with me, right?! You wanna be with them so badly, fucking go! You always run away to be with them!” You try to pry off his hand off your arm and start to sniffle. “You hate being with me so much then just leave!”

Bakugou only wants to hold tighter, pulling you in and instead of the resistance he was expecting from you, you collapse in his arms instead and cry. Your tears wet the front of the t-shirt he’s wearing and your body is shaking as you sob. He lets you cry out all the anger that he knows he deserves from you, choosing to say nothing because he needs you to hear his words when you’ve calmed down.

His phone in his back pocket is vibrating like crazy. More than likely it’s texts from the other person, probably (and rightfully) also sending him angry messages.

The tears stop from you twenty minutes later but you’re curled up against the headboard of the bed, one of your favorite plushies in your arms as you listlessly look down at the quilt you and him purchased together. Bakugou sits close to you, his hand on your knee with his thumb idly brushing back and forth as he waits for you to speak. He knows that you hate looking so weak, he knows because he’s the same way too, it’s what the two of you bonded over when you began to start showing interest in him. He feels shameful that he’s the one who made you this way.

“… do you still love me?” You ask quietly.

“I do.” Bakugou confirms and hopes that he can salvage this.

“I don’t feel like you do. I feel like all I do is make you angry and make you push me away… you don’t want to try fixing our fights.”

You and Bakugou speak quietly to one another, going over all the faults of the relationship, what he does wrong and what you do wrong, and ultimately wondering what to do from there. Bakugou hopes that all the apologies he’s given to you, that he owes you, are enough for this to keep going. He waits quietly with bated breath as you think it over, your eyes looking to his before looking away.

He wonders if the agony waiting over your answer is what you felt waiting around for him.

[justmeinatree]

Oh, I Think She Said

Summary : a tooth rotting harryween treat.

Word Count : 1k

A/N : this is the cheesiest thing i’ve ever written, i dont know whether to love it or hate it

“you can’t be scary for shit !” you laugh, playfully smacking harry’s arm. 

you loved halloween, it was by far your favourite holiday. and being able to celebrate it with harryween was the icing on the cake. 

you did have a self imposed rule though, that you needed to have the opportunity for some kind of horror makeup, seeing as your night costume was matching with harry and “this was a family show,” so harry didn’t want to be scary on stage.

so now here you were, spending your day with harry around the stadium, both of you sporting some kind of freaky makeup, as he had insisted that you do something for him as well. 

the opportunities where harry lets you sit down with him and paint his face whichever way you want, are some of your favourite memories with him. he’s so trusting and fun loving, never wanting to know what you have planned, waiting for the surprise reveal, every time. in the end, he’s always so pleasantly surprised. looks himself over, admiring the details you’ve put in. and that’s just one example of when you really see the love he has for you, through the reflection in the mirror.

but right now, you wanted the photo that was being taken to match the vibe of the makeup and well, not a single bit of harry really matches the spookiness that is this makeup. he’s just a giant teddybear with black smeared on his face.

harry laughs, putting his hands up in defence before his strength takes hold over you, arms wrapping around your entire body, pinning you tightly to him.

you wiggle in his grip, trying to break free, but you both absolutely knew you weren’t going anywhere. harry’s much stronger than you are. you feel his lips pressing to your neck, his lips parting for his tongue to poke out, tasting your skin. “not letting you go until you apologize to me,” he murmurs against your ear and you can hear the smirk on his lips.

for a quick moment, you cuddle back into him, eyes closing, focusing on harry’s mouth against your neck. you faintly hear the clicking of a camera, photographer taking a few shots for you both, before someone else comes to whisk you away. the show was nearing, you needed to get into your costumes.

fluttering off hand in hand, you both end up in harry’s dressing room, washing off the dark makeup, going through an endless amount of wipes. your eyes focus through the mirror, on the costumes behind you, a flash of nervousness etching itself on your face. 

harry notices, about to say something before hearing you, “do you think they’re gonna get it ?”

“mine alone ?” harry hums pensively, “maybe not. but it’s planned that the camera will flash to you, remember ? your costume really completes it. s’that why you’re nervous ?”

you shake your head, you had gotten used to the cameras a long time ago. “aren’t you nervous,” you ask quietly, looking up at him. 

“have you seen what i’m wearing ? of course i’m nervous. nervous my prick’s gonna fall out,” he laughs, trying to lighten the mood. and it does work as he managed to pull a breathy laugh from you. but the worry is still present in your eyes.

“you know it’s time sweetheart,” he hums softly, smiling reassuringly at you. “can’t keep wearing this forever,” he nods towards you. “gotta let people know eventually.”

“i know,” you take a big breath, nodding. “i’m excited to tell everyone. i really am. but it’s still a bit scary, you know ?”

harry nods at that, leaning over to kiss the tip of your nose, then your lips, “i understand. and yes, i am a bit nervous too. but it’s a good nervous, yeah ?”

“mhmm,” you nod, kissing him again for a moment before he pulls away.

“right, can’t be late. lets do this baby,” he smiles, getting up with you and bringing you over to the clothes rack. you watch harry strip his robe off, as you do the same, both of you putting on your costumes.

they were fairly simple, but obvious none the less. you do take the time to laugh with harry as he slips on his tiny yellow shorts. christ, you really do hope tonight doesn’t end in a wardrobe malfunction. scary makeup would be far more appropriate for a family show.

fortunately for you, and in the spirit of harryween, the setlist has been altered. seeing as harry thought it to be totally unfair for you to be backstage for the entirety of the show, as the third song was coming up, a few notes from kiwi can be heard blaring through the speakers.

the crowd goes crazy, shocked to be hearing it so quickly in the set. harry’s spotted you, by the barricade, next to the security man you had both arranged this with. 

he makes it through the first verse, chorus, second verse, and as the second round of the chorus comes up, harry changes up the lyrics, belting out, “she’s having my baby !” 

and he’s pointing at you, the camera panning in your direction, as harry’s running up the catwalk to get to you. 

there you are, on the big screen, jumping around and singing along, in your juno costume, and beginnings of a baby bump on full display, having gone with a fairly tight striped tshirt. this was your first opportunity to go out without a sweater in almost a month now, and you were revelling in it. harry’s costume of bleeker now making perfect sense to the crowd. although so far, it wasn’t like anyone minded his little yellow shorts.

the crowd was screaming, absolutely losing their minds, chanting excitedly. the camera panning to some fans with tears in their eyes as harry’s now made it to where you are, smiling wider than you think he ever has, dimples etched deep in his skin, blowing you kisses.

you can see the adoration, excitement, pride, joy, how deep this moment is hitting him as he can hear, can see, can feel almost 100 000 people radiate excitement and pride and joy right back at him.

the song comes to an end and the crowd is screaming so loud, harry doesn’t get the opportunity to address them right away.

as things quiet down just a bit, he chuckles into the mic, “look at my beautiful girl. i’m gonna be a dad !”

……

Masterlist

tags : @gorlsinmultifandoms @cc-horan

[star-girl69]

Cowboy Like Me

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!Reader

—-

Part One - The Last Time

Part Two - Cowboy Like Me

Part Three - Tomorrow Never Came (coming soon!)

Part Four - Living Legend (coming soon!)

Part Five - Pretty When You Cry (coming soon!)

—-

synopsis: 15 years later, you’re still climbing into clarisse’s arms and knowing she’s gonna leave.

a/n: personally i love life but idk about y’all and creds to @nvirskies for helping me w bits of this 🫶

Cowboy Like Me - Taylor Swift

warnings: y’all already know what’s happening

—-

“And I… I’m scared.”

You hum, adjusting yourself in your seat so your heart doesn’t break.

“It’s okay to be scared. I’m scared all the time.”

Jane is one of the sweetest kids you’ve ever met since becoming the Camp Half-Blood therapist thing. After your traumatizing years, watching Clarisse come and go, years spent in her bed- you found yourself wanting to tell someone.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to feel safe, especially when she was gone.

You wanted to tell someone that you hated Clarisse La Rue’s guts and also you loved her so much you weren’t sure if you could ever get over her.

So, you became that person.

“You’re allowed to be scared, though,” Jane continues. “I can’t. I’m a daughter of Ares, Y/N. If he sniffs out weakness then he’ll never love me.”

Your conversations with Jane have by far been the hardest sessions you’ve ever had. They remind you so much of what you went through 15 years ago. Of what you watched her go through.

“And you’re human, Jane. To fear is to be human. You’ll always be part human, the same way you are part god. That’s what being a demigod is,” you smile.

“It’s just… human?” she says, nose scrunching.

“All of the emotions you feel, the ones you hate, the ones that distract you- those are the ones that come from your mortal parent. Ares cannot take those away, no matter how hard he tries.”

You let the kids spread around the rumors that this room is magical and soundproof. In reality, the Gods just don’t care enough to listen.

—-

It took a long time to get Chiron and Mr. D to see the benefits of having an actual licensed therapist at Camp. They were hesitant, but you insisted, so they gave you a one month trial. It took even longer to get someone to actually come talk to you, but after Jane blew up on one of her siblings and hurt them, she came to you.

She came to you crying, saying she hated being like this, she hated being so explosive. And it was slow, but you helped her, and now she has coping mechanisms and now the entirety of the Ares cabin and a good portion of the camp scrambles for appointments with you.

Jane always comes at 6:30 on Fridays. She eats her dinner quick and runs across camp to your office at the Big House. Sometimes she cries, sometimes she squeezes a stress ball so hard she might actually crush it, but she always talks. She always opens herself up, she learns and she grows.

After that hour, you turn around and lay in your bed, and you think about Clarisse.

You think about when she comes back, you’re not so cold anymore but your heart is frozen over. You cry, she asks you not to cry, not when she’s here. She did the impossible, she survived.

But you see it in her eyes. The thrill. She will do it again and again for him and you will be left there.

And as much as your aching heart tells you to forget about her- she’s yours. You’re hers.

She calls you baby and pretty girl even though years of stress has caused crows lines around your eyes. You are still trapped with her, like some sort of wretched mirror- except you’re gazing into another world where you’re both still young. Where you’re both still happy. Where she didn’t leave.

You think about that alternate reality a lot.

You think about it tonight.

You come to your room and you lay on your cold bed, wrap an arm around your waist and imagine the pillow under your head is her chest. It’s embarrassing. It’s embarrassing to love her so much that you pretend she’s still here. It’s embarrassing that you pretend you have all the answers- the campers look up at you like you do have all the answers, but you really don’t. You know absolutely nothing. But you’re good at pretending.

The first time she visited camp she came to your room, cockily leaned against the door, and said something about how she had to meet the woman all of her younger siblings were gushing about. That night ended with her crying softly against your chest while you ran your hands through her hair.

And before, you went to colleges only an hour away from each other. When you were stressing about exams, when you got a bad grade, when the nights were cold and you missed her- you drove an hour and knocked on her door, and she let you in, into her bed, into her arms. She didn’t have let you into her heart, because you were always there.

When her roommate left for a few days for a family emergency, she asked her friends to take notes for her and drove to you. She stammered when you opened the door, tried to explain that she just couldn’t be alone, not anymore, not without you- and so she spent the next few days waiting in your room while you were at classes. You would sit in her lap while you did your homework, or she would just stand behind you at your desk and play with your hair. And you would spend your nights in her arms.

The second time she visited camp she didn’t say anything when she knocked on your door, and you just let her in. You spent the night laughing and reminiscing until you cried and she smiled sadly and asked you not to, and you tried for her, but you couldn’t. How can she expect you not to cry when she’s the one making you cry? When she’s cried herself over what happened between you?

The third, fourth, fifth, all the times she came to camp she would come to your door and sometimes you would cry, sometimes she would cry- sometimes you both would cry. Because how cruel is it to be held by the woman you love and know it’s not the girl you love? How cruel is it to know change?

—-

It’s not that you choose to love Clarisse. If you could choose, you wouldn’t love her. You would forget all about her. You dream about falling and hitting your head, waking up with a blank slate that’s untainted by her.

You don’t choose to love Clarisse.

Your skin doesn’t love her, not anymore- your cells replace every few weeks. And it’s been 2 months since she last came to camp. It’s your bones that love her. It’s something fundamental inside of you. Loving her is like moving- it takes so many little nerves and neurons to make it work- but it feels like nothing to you. Your bones love Clarisse.

And your bones surround your heart, and they trick you into loving her.

Every time she comes back you’re shocked by the way she isn’t her younger self. She’s older, there’s lines on her face, and she cut her hair a few inches shorter a few years ago. She carries herself different, partly because she’s grown and she’s learned to appreciate life a little more- she walks softer. And almost because you know she hurt her hip years ago, and you’ve spent nights kissing it and saying that she’ll be fine if she just gives it a little longer to heal.

You like to think that the reason she’s still able to go on quests and do everything she does is because of your healing touch.

But you see it sometimes, the way she walks softer, especially now after a long day. Its not that it hurts her, she’s just scared of putting a bit too much pressure on it so it does hurt her.

You watch her from the window. Smaller kids run past her, she’s listening absentmindedly to Abby James, the current counselor of the Ares cabin.

You giggle as she puts her hand on Abby’s shoulder and firmly says goodbye, pushing her off into the other direction- Abby is probably the most social Ares kid you’ve ever met. She’s a chatterbox, not in a bad or mean way, just a fact. Her long black hair swishes behind her as she turns, crossing her arms, and you’re sure you’ll be hearing about it in your next session.

You move back to the small couch- right by the door of your room. You sit there like you’re not expecting her, and you wait until you hear her footsteps up the stares to fix your hair and breathe in and out slowly.

She knocks.

“Come in,” you say, throwing your feet onto the coffee table and picking up a book about the history of psychology.

“Y/N,” she says. The door shuts behind her, she leans back against it.

“Hi, Clarisse,” you say, reduced to a child now that she’s in your presence. Now that you can look at her and see that she’s not her. “How are you?”

She snorts, walking past you and sitting in the armchair you sit in for your sessions.

“I don’t wanna play that shit tonight.”

“Hospitality?”

“Whatever you wanna call it,” she smiles, her feet touching yours on the coffee table. You feel a little breathless. You close the book, you weren’t even reading it, throwing it onto the coffee table.

She stares into your eyes.

“How have you been?”

You roll your eyes, but that just makes the tears more prominent.

“How is that any different?”

“‘Cause it’s you. ‘Cause I like hearing your voice.”

She leans back in the chair and gestures to you, so you cross your legs and sit up. You bite back the tears like a hyena with a fake laugh.

“Uh, I don’t know. The usual. All of my sessions are going good, not that I can really tell you. Why don’t I turn on some music?”

“Sure,” she says, leaning her face into her hands.

You walk past her and towards the bookshelf on the opposite wall, body screaming at the way your bare legs brush against her clothed knee.

It’s an old record player, somehow making the cut as not electronic enough to attract anything bad.

You don’t bother checking what you were last listening to. You just put the needle at the start of a song and hear the organs, the grand piano.

“I like this guy,” Clarisse says.

“Jeff Buckley,” you chuckle, smoothing down your camp t-shirt, adjusting your pajama shorts.

Looking out the door I see the rain // Fall upon the funeral mourners

You stand there for a moment longer, pretending to adjust your bookshelf, because you know you’ll start crying when you turn around and look at her.

So I’ll wait for you, love // And I’ll burn // Will I ever see your sweet return? // Oh, will I ever learn?

“Come back,” she says. She was just watching you avoid her. You could feel her eyes on you. You stiffen. “Please,” she adds, softly.

“It’s embarrassing,” you mutter, wiping the tears away.

“I’m just as embarrassing then, seeing how many times I’ve cried in this room. We cancel each other out.” You don’t turn, you can’t do it, you can’t let her see how much this effects you. “I don’t like it when you cry. Please, Y/N, come back.”

You take a deep breath and turn around, wanting to walk past her again, curious to see if she’ll reach out and pull you into the chair with her.

But she doesn’t get the chance too, because your eyes are blinded by tears, and the place where the rug curls up is always making you stumble. Except on days when she’s here, you’re so drained of everything, so you trip completely.

Your knees slam against the hardwood floor, Clarisse tries her best to catch you, but she was a foot too far to reach you- even with her fast reflexes.

And now you’re on your knees in front of her, crying even louder with burning knees.

“Y/N,” she breathes, and you drag yourself towards her, sobbing like a baby until you’re at her feet, resting your head in her lap. “Hey, it’s okay, it’s fine. I trip all the time.” You both know you’re not crying about that.

You press your face into the space between her leg and the cushion to muffle your loud cries.

You grab her legs, feral, nails digging through her cargo pants- but you don’t even reach skin.

“I love you so much, Clarisse,” you sob. “I love you. Don’t leave me tonight. Don’t leave me.”

She breathes out, it’s silent and you bite your tongue.

“I’ll stay tonight,” she says. “I was always gonna stay tonight, you don’t have to ask, baby.”

“Say you love me,” you whisper. “Say it, please.”

“I love you,” she says, her lips in your hair. “Of course I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

There is a certain desperation with demigod relationships. And you feel it now, you feel the desperate hands and the yearning hearts as you cry at her feet. And you feel your knees burn as you kneel before her. You listen to Jeff Buckley croon about love gone while you cry at her feet.

You can’t be embarrassed in this moment. Part of you feels like this is all just Clarisse’s problem, for being so beautiful you still love her, for leaving you and never putting you first. She has to hold you and fix you, she has to deal with the wet pant leg full of your tears. But really, you just want her to hold you. You just want to pretend she never left in the first place.

It’s never over // She is the tear that hangs inside my soul forever

—-

“Are you hungry?” you ask when you finally let go of her, pushing her away as you wipe your wet face.

She studies you for a moment.

“Yeah,” she says, honestly. “What’cha got?”

You reach under the coffee table for the box of snacks you always keep incase someone gets hungry during a session. You’ve both moved to the couch for more space, Jeff Buckley is still going in the background- you’ll have to get up and flip it over soon, or put on something else.

She rifles through the bags of mortal snacks until she finds a bag of salt and vinegar chips.

“Thanks, baby,” she mutters, tearing into the bag. You lean against the couch and just watch her. It could be like this all the time. If she would just stay.

She tries to feed you one, but for some reason that feels too intimate and you shake your head. She shrugs and eats it, even though it was pressed up against your lips a second ago.

That’s the one thing you don’t do. You kiss each other everywhere, except for the lips. You touch her everywhere, except for her lips.

You cry in her arms and she kisses your head, she runs her hands down your body but doesn’t kiss you.

And you’re scared of it. You’re scared of kissing her. You still feel like you can leave, even after all the nights together, if you just don’t kiss her.

She gestures to the curtain that separates your bedroom from where you see campers. “I like the new curtain. Flowers,” she says.

You rake your eyes over the carefully crocheted patterns, pink and blue and yellow, purple and green and red, all turned into pretty flowers.

“A few kids from the Demeter cabin made it for me,” you smile, thinking of how proud they had been to give it to you. “It’s so beautiful.”

“It is,” Clarisse says, but she’s not looking at the curtain anymore. “Jane was talking about you all day,” she says after a moment. “She really loves you.”

“I love her. If she hadn’t come to me, then no one else would have, and I probably would have gotten thrown out. I don’t even know where I would have gone.”

“You could’ve come to me. You can always come to me.”

You have her address pinned to a bulletin board next to your bed.

“Yeah,” you mumble, playing with a loose thread on the back of the couch. “She reminds me a lot of you, you know.”

“Really?” she chuckles. “How?”

“I can’t tell you, silly. Doctor-patient confidentiality.”

“Well, you said she’s like me. So just tell me what I’m like.”

“Okay,” you mumble, thinking over every moment you’ve spent with Clarisse, every session with Jane. “Well, you have very big emotions. It’s hard for you to control them. But, you never really feel them. You never get to the root of the problem. So, when something actually happens, all you know how to do is recognize that you’re angry. You can’t figure out why.”

“You’re good at this shit,” she mumbles. You laugh.

“Hm, you forget that being a demigod means you’re half human, too. And you’re very loyal. You’re loyal to the wrong people, sometimes.”

She crunches up the empty bag of chips and drops it onto the coffee table.

“Don’t do that,” she says.

“Do what?”

She rubs her socks against your knees. “I jus’ wanna be here with you, right now. Don’t say anything else.”

“You asked me about Jane.” You scoff and she glares at you, but her feet are still touching you, and you sigh. “I’m sorry. I jus’ wanna be here with you, too.”

She stares at you for a long moment, unblinking. When she finally looks away, she’s rubbing tears out of her eyes. You move to sit on your knees, leaning towards her.

“Clar, don’t cry,” you say. “What happened?”

You take her face in your hands, so she can’t wipe away the tears. Staring into your eyes, she’s forced to let them fall. She puts her hands on your waist.

“Sometimes I jus’ think about how you’ll never forgive me.”

You don’t know what to say to that.

“Let’s not talk about that right now, Clar. C’mon.”

“Is this room soundproof?” she asks, suddenly. You frown at first, not knowing what that has to do with anything- but then you remember.

You let the kids assume it’s soundproof in your early sessions. But eventually, when they ask, you tell them the truth. You tell them it’s not.

And when they get scared and ask if their godly parents will hear them- you put your hand on their arm and say no. No, they won’t hear you. It’s not that they can’t, it’s that they won’t. They won’t care.

“No. It’s not.”

She shakes her head and laughs.

“So, what? You just sit here and tell these kids that their parents don’t love them?”

“Because they don’t. A God’s love is not a human’s love, Clarisse, why-why dont you get it? It’s different. It’s just different. It’s not necessarily bad, it’s just not what these kids need.”

“You make them think that their parents don’t care about them.”

“Because they don’t! Fuck. They don’t, okay!”

She stares at you for a long time after your outburst.

“What is wrong with you?” she mutters, not necessarily mean but more genuinely curious. She truly believes your wrong in your hatred of the Gods.

“What’s wrong with me? What’s wrong with me? I spend my entire day helping kids. I spent my entire day handing them tissues, hugging them, teaching them coping skills. I have devoted my entire life to making sure no one ever felt how I felt. How am I the bad guy for helping them place the blame on who it really should be placed?”

“How you felt?”

You shuffle, sitting up taller.

“Yes, how I felt. How I feel. You don’t know what it was like for me, Clarisse. You don’t know what it was like to sleep without you and know that you were probably gone-”

“What the hell do you think I did every night of that quest?”

“But I didn’t leave you, Clarisse! I didn’t leave you. I have been waiting for you for years. You are the one who leaves me over and over again. And you- you have someone. I have no one, except for you. No one.”

Clarisse has a father. She has someone to blame, if she chose. She has someone to pray to, to cry to, to guide her.

What do you have? The unclaimed daughter of no one? The only person you belong to is Clarisse. And here she is, staring at you like you disgust her.

The anger falls away, because at your core you’re still a lonely 16 year old who needs her to come back, who needs to be claimed, who needs to be loved.

You’re a licensed psychologist. You know that you have deep, deep abandonment issues. You know that Clarisse is at the root of them. But the part of you that’s just a girl, your bones that will always love her, she’s everything to you. She’s all you have.

“Please don’t make us fight,” you cry, hands pressed to your cheeks. “You’re making me cry, Clarisse. Don’t make me cry.”

You watch her change entirely. It goes from the woman who can’t understand you to the girl who knows only you.

“I hate it when you cry,” she says, softly, a gateway back into her arms.

You throw yourself against her, trying your best not to cry for her, but you fail. Her lips are in your hair, your head against her chest. She smooths down your hair and begs you not to cry. Because for some reason, this feels like too much. For some reason, this hurts her the most.

Clarisse is self destructive just like you.

She helps you to your bed. She touches the flower curtain as you walk past.

Clarisse knows she’s hurting you and she knows you’re hurting her. You know you’re hurting her and you know she’s hurting you.

She takes off her uncomfortable clothes and slips under the blanket with you.

Clarisse loves you the same way you love her. Not by choice, but by nostalgia, by hope. She loves you because of what might be. You love her the same way. You both hope that one day it’ll all work out.

She tucks the blanket around you and cups your face. She tells you she’s sorry and whispers “I love you” one more time. You put your hand on her hip, the other pressing against your chest. You say you love her too. You say you love her so much you’re reduced to this less-than thing in her presence.

Clarisse doesn’t understand you. You don’t understand her. She’s nobody’s son, and you’re nobody’s daughter. You try to go about your day without her but you think about her on you so much.

It’s hard to do well on these nights when you know she’s gonna leave you. So you cry, you pretend, you relish this one night in her arms.

“I promise I don’t mean to hurt you,” she whispers. “I don’t. I love you so much. I want you to be happy, but I can’t let you go.” She traces her nose along your jawline. “I can’t let you be happy away from me.”

And it sounds so horrible and cruel, but the way she hurts you is so beautiful you can’t be bothered. She only hurts you because of love. Because she loves you, because she loves her father.

“I know,” you breathe. “I know everything. I don’t mean to hurt you either, I know exactly how you feel.”

A single tear falls down her face. “I can’t help but hurt you. I can’t help but let you hurt me.”

“I know, Clarisse,” you mutter. You press your lips to her cheek and swallow the salty tear falling down her face. “It feels so good, I know.”

Clarisse is a sadist like you. Clarisse is a masochist like you.

Clarisse is addicted to the pain just like you.

—-

me when i’m in an toxic and cosmically doomed relationship contest and my opponents are clarisse and y/n: 😱😱😱😱😱😱😱😱

let me know if you cried in the comments below! 😘

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

[a-little-unsteddie]

stuck in your throat || 1.1

[here] | 1.2 | 1.3 | 1.4 | 1.5

ah hello hello :) i have finished chapter two and started into chapter three so i’m comfortable with starting to post the first chapter. idk how many parts each chapter will be, but after i finish posting all of each chapter, i will post the entire chapter on ao3.

i’ll be posting each chapter after i finish another one, so i’ll post chapter two after i finish writing chapter 3, so i always am one chapter ahead :)

this started because @/lexirosewrites followed me ages ago and i was possessed to write an omegaverse fic because of it, as a gift :D hope you enjoy <3

anyway, i think i’ve probably gone on a bit too long now, so enjoy chapter one, part one of stuck in your throat! it’s a bit short, but the next one is like almost 2k so i think it’ll even out :b

Steve sighed as he stared blearily at the screen in front of him, meticulously scanning his resume for what could have been the hundredth time. He needed it to be absolutely perfect before he sent it to any potential employers. He knew he didn’t have the most experience, given that the entirety of his knowledge of nannying came in the form of babysitting Dustin and his friends. Steve hardly counted that, considering the pups were almost all high school age at the time. Even if they were a bit much to deal with at the best of times.

Steve hoped that the fact he went to school to get his teaching license would make him stand out as a candidate.

“You’ve made it as perfect as you can.” Robin said from behind Steve, causing the omega to startle.

“Jesus, wear a bell or something.” he muttered with a grumpy glare in the alpha’s direction. He looked back at his laptop screen and sighed deeply. “No one’s gonna hire some washed up omega,” he threw his arms over his face, speaking with a whine. Robin plopped on their couch next to him and peered at the laptop screen curiously. She took it off Steve’s lap while ignoring his half-hearted protests. She scanned over it with a hum.

“You’re right,” she said with a firm nod, “no one wants to hire some washed up omega.” Steve gaped at her in shock and hurt, until Robin continued. “Good thing you’re applying, so they don’t have to!”

Steve scrunched his face up at her, sticking his tongue out. “Oh, shut the fuck up.”

“Oh, ho ho ho!” Robin said, squinting at the screen with a grin. “Looks like someone’s hiring a fulltime nanny and tutor!” she skimmed over the job ad and nodded firmly. “Apparently you’ll have to sign NDAs to work for them.” her eyes widened as she continued reading the advert. “And traveling? Sounds like exactly what you need. I’m sending your application to them.”

“What? Rob, no! I’m not done with my resum—” Steve scrambled to take the laptop from her.

“Too late!” Robin said, allowing the omega to take the laptop back.

“Robbie!” Steve whined, looking at the ‘thank you for your application!’ message that had popped up on the screen.

“What? You’ve been staring at your resume for like, six hours! It’s almost two in the morning!” she justified, feeling no remorse for pushing her friend to apply somewhere. “You weren’t going to do it, so I had to take matters into my own hands.”

Steve huffed and glared at her for a moment longer before looking at where she sent the application to. “Robbie, this looks like a perfect way to get trafficked,” he said flatly. “I mean, what kind of employer requires an NDA to be signed before they tell you who you’re working for?”

Robin shrugged, then leaned over and scrolled down to point out how much he could potentially make. “I dunno, but I’ll be with you every step of the way because that amount of money…” she whistled, flopping back into the couch.

Steve rolled his eyes, “Any place that requires an NDA probably won’t hire me, Robs. I’ve got no experience.”

“Yet!” Robin insisted, frowning at Steve. “No experience doesn’t mean you’re bad at it!”

“I could be! I don’t know!”

“You won’t be, dingus. Any pup will be better off if you’re their nanny.” Robin said in a rare moment of sincerity. Steve sighed and rolled his eyes fondly.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, but no less sincere. “Now help me pick a few other places to apply to.” he grumbled, knowing that Robin was right.

Someone would hire him, it was only a matter of time.

follow the tag #stuck in your throat or #siyt 🎤 to get notified when i post an update. i might do a tag list, but i make no promises because that seems stressful. i’ll only tag 18+ blogs, so either verify in the tags you’re 18+ or have it in your bio.

[iiotic]

You have my heart | chapter 1

Human! Alastor x Fem! Reader

❥︎ You have my heart | Navigation

Prologue | chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3..

❥︎ word count - 1k

please read the tws before reading this story!! You may find them in the navigation

Your great slumber was interrupted by absurdly fast knocking on your door. Muffled voice behind the door, made you realize that it was your maid, that was waking you up. You groaned in annoyance, after you realized that you hadn't had anything planned for today, and you were suppose to sleep how much you wanted. You plopped onto your back, wanting go hear the information, she was trying to give you.

- Miss? If I won't hear your response I may just come in. - Young womans voice, could be heard, behind the door to your room. You were too tired to use your voice, so you just decided to wait for her to come in. Short warning that she's coming in before she opened the door, to be met with your very tired figure.

- Miss, I'd be quite polite for you to respond, if someones talking to you. - She stated, before opening your buetifuly decorated curtains. The sun was shining, birds were singing and the flowers were blooming. Such an incredible weather, too bad you decided on staying in bed all day.

You looked around to make sure you closed the floorboard last night. Fortunately for you, it was closed. Your cat, Celestial, was nowhere to be seen.

- Your mother insisted on you being ready, quite early today. - The maid said, turning around to look at you while picking an dirty cup of yours. - So I'd appreciate it if you did so. - You groaned in annoyance, once again, after you brain processed the informations she just gave you.

- The calendar says that my day was suppose to be free today? - You responded as politely as you could. You huffed when she told you that plans changed, and that you had an quite important task for today, and something, you weren't exactly listening.

- You may leave - Now not trying to hide your annoyance at the whole situation -And could you do me a favour and stop saying "quite"? - You whispered to yourself, knowing that if the maid would hear you, she'd inform your mother of your "quite" bad manners.

Unfortunately for you, she heard it. "And could YOU do me a favour and clean after yourself?" You heard her mumble under her breath. Oh, so now she was mad because she had to do her job? No problem. You're gonna get her fired, in an instant.

Walking up to the car, your chauffeur was already waiting for you. Your mother told you, that you shall met one of your candidates, for your future husband. You weren't thrilled with the idea, but you knew that if you said "no" she'd cause a fight. You also didn't know where you'd met this "candidate", your mother decided to keep it a secret from you, for unknown reasons.

- Where are we headed? - You tried to ask the chauffeur, but when you didn't hear any answer from him, you grew a little annoyed. He probably couldn't tell you the answer, because your mother told him not to whisper a word. When he started driving, your thoughts started to drift, as your eyes looked out of the window.

What if he'd treat you horribly? You didn't want to be treated like that. Nobody should be treated like that. You just wanted to find your true love, your soulmate. You truly didn't believe in love at first sight, oh no, you thought it's stupid and irresponsible. First, you'd like to get to know your future lover, bonding over things that you both like. Pheraps someone who has the same love for art, as you do.

Soon you arrived at a quite nice restaurant. Leaving the car, you stated that you didn't want your chauffeur coming in with you. You believed that you'd recognise 'the one'. Besides he was suppose to introduce himself.

Opening the door, you were met with a warm and cozy atmosphere. Soft jazz music playing in the background, with waitresses running all around. It wasn't exactly busy, it wasn't the rush hour, yet. However you could tell that the kitchen was working way too fast, for how many people are in the restaurant. Pheraps someone clocked out too early? Pheraps they're missing staff? Everything is possible.

You waited patiently, before a waitress guided you to your seat. You thanked her politely, waiting for your future husband to arrive.

- May i assist you in anything, ma'am? - A young woman asked me, you could tell she was a waitress. She looked so burned out, tired even exhausted! You felt truly bad for her.

You declined, insisting that she should go on her break, but she refused, gesturing all the people waiting in the restaurant.

- I won't keep you waiting, but I have to ask. - You looked at her, then at the kitchen, then at the customers waiting, some patiently, others not so. Back at her. - Are you short on staff?

- Unfortunately, many decided to leave, finding a new job or others being irritated with the paychecks they were getting. - She replied quickly, before excusing herself and running to another table.

Now you felt even more terrible. You were cozying in your bed all day, just working on your moved for the great ball, when people were working their asses of trying to survive? Such a pity. You didn't feel bad for your maid though, she was a bitch.

Minutes soon turned into hours of waiting for this man. It was already dark outside, a normal person would leave a long time ago, but you being a hopeless romantic didn't help with anything. Pheraps you didn't choose the man you wanted to marry, but you could learn to love him. You just wanted to feel loved.

Just when you were about to leave, after packing your things, someone stopped you. Mad and tired of waiting, and sad that someone ditched you, you looked up to be met with a charming gentleman.

- What's such a pretty lady, like yourself doing alone, at a place like this?

TAGLIST

@cherry-cola-100 @alastorssimp @cyganep @mutifandomkid @happytacojudgepalace

[bumblinv]

Hi! Are your requests open? If they are I'm just gonna leave this here, Neteyam, Ao'nung, Lo'ak (sperate) x OmaticayaGnReader who is sick, like flu for the na'vi or something like that, they have a fever and the chills and everything could it also be fluffy and absolutely adorable

--- personal doctors ☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟ

neteyam, ao'nung, rotxo (seperated) x gn!metkayina!reader

you catch a cold, its time for your lover to take care of you

a/n ; im not good at writing lo’ak, so i bring you rotxo instead! i hope you dont mind<3

: ̗̀➛ neteyam

realizes your sickness even before you did

when you first sneeze or cough, his mind goes straight to the day before, recalling any peculiar food you've had

neteyam would notices too, when you pause between chores to massage your forehead

he will take over cleaning. making sure every corner is clean so you won't sneeze from the dust. he also makes sure you stay hydrated and even whips you up nutritious meals until your condition got better. usually, the fever never got up to you

but when it does, he goes in full momma mode

this man grows with 3 younger siblings, caring for someone is natural for him. he would stay by your side, whispering your name every few hours to wake you up, so he could feed and help you drink

neteyam might not be the best healer, like her sister, but he can make certain herb drinks

makes you ginger tea regularly to warm up your shivering body

you tend to get all sort of nightmares from your sickness, but dont worry, you’re waking up to neteyam since he’s cuddling you all night long. he will run his slender fingers through your hair, whispering comforting words to your ear

“everything’s okay, dear. i’m here” 

we all need neteyam in our lives:(

_

: ̗̀➛ ao'ung

acts like he doesn’t care, but the moment your temperature starts to rise, he brings his mother straight to you

the tsahik would probably do nothing. she tell him to go ask kiri for some herb tea, and to make sure you drink and eat well, since fevers could heal by itself

but mans stressed

would refuse to let you lift a single muscle. he will be the one helping you change, wipe your face to keep you fresh, feeding you

since he’s not the best cook, he would ask tsireya to make you soups, wich she happily does. she makes great food, but your tongue tastes sour and your appetite is no where to be found

so ao'nung scolds you

“quit acting like a baby and please, just eat” 

you know ao’nung. none of his scolding are anger, he’s just extremely worried.

watching you go to sleep after being scolded makes him feel like a villain. he would join you in bed and whispers an apology. gently bringing you closer to his chest as the both of you fall asleep

remember he's a worrier? it makes him act too much like a mom. he will insist on taking care of you, even when you're feeling better. will only stop until he's sure you're 100% healthy

ao'nung is a big softie

_

: ̗̀➛ rotxo 

most clueless compared to the other 2

pls dont be mad, its not his fault

something tells me he’s an only child, a one that rarely got sick too, so he doesn’t know anything about caring for ill people

rotxo might be confused, but he’s not an idiot

the moment he touches your forehead and realizes you're scorching hot, rotxo instinctively wraps a fluffy blanket around you. the man will make you drink a lot of water, and went off running to the sullys

“what the fuck?” 

“sorry lo'ak! its an emergency!”

he got home with omaticayan food wraps in hand. you’re too sick to say anything, so when he lifts your head to feed you, you don’t protest

the one thing that scares you the most is that his jokes completely disappears

all his stupid jokes, gone.

not in a bad way, this man is just so dedicated on you that he stops joking around. he cannot stand that you're feeling all sick and uncomfortable and wants you back to your healthy self

this man is so serious, even when he tried feeding you raw cloves of garlic

one time, he heard kiri saying that garlics are ‘good for boosting the immune system’ 

he’s not wrong😭😭😭

but kiri hits him on the head once she founds out

instead of feeding you raw garlic, she gives you a mix of aged garlic and honey as medicine such an asian mom move

he feels bad afterwards, would kiss your entire face despite your protest

the next day, you wake up feeling fresh. but your lover boys voice got so hoarse from sore throat and complains about his sore limbs

yes, he got your fever and yes, he never regret kissing you, even when you're sick

[buckyispunk]

Falling

Aloha Chapter Three~ Bucky Barnes x f!Reader (no use of Y/N)

read previous parts here!

masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: The events of Ocean Blue from Bucky's perspective, aka Bucky fights to win you back.

A/N: So so soooo sorry for the longer-than-expected wait everyone! Thank you to all who have been sticking it out with me! I hope this chapter makes up for it! Also - discontinuing tags after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifs!!

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, discussion of unhealthy relationships, slight overstimulation, dom!Bucky, drinking, insecure reader, please lmk if I missed anything

Word Count: 4.6k

“Dude,” Sam shoves Bucky’s shoulder, “I’m sure she’ll be out soon, you don’t have to keep staring at the door.”

Bucky reverts his attention to his friends, who are now laughing at his infatuated state. He debates for a second whether or not it’s worth it to think of a clever comeback, but he can’t bring himself to care enough. All Bucky cares about is when he’ll next be able to hear your laugh and watch the way your eyes sparkle in the sunlight. All he cares about right now is being with you. 

And that scares Bucky. Absolutely terrifies him. The last time Bucky felt this way about someone, she betrayed every ounce of trust he ever put in her and Bucky had wound up wishing he never even met her in the first place. But even though he’s only known you a few days, something tells Bucky you’re nothing like his ex. 

All he manages is a mumbled shut up. 

He turns from his friends to go order another round, noting that Sam and Steve’s bottles are almost empty as well. As he leans against the bar waiting for the bartender, he feels a tap on his shoulder.

Bucky grins as he turns around. 

“Been waiting for you, do-”

He cuts himself off when he realizes it’s not you he’s talking to, but some blonde woman he doesn’t recognize. 

“Sorry,” he shakes his head, “thought you were someone else,” he explains, smile disappearing from his face. 

“No worries,” she flases her white teeth at him, “I actually think your friend over there is kinda cute. The one that hasn’t stopped laughing for the last five minutes.”

Bucky sighs, relieved that the woman isn’t hitting on him. He’s never been great at rejecting people. 

“Sam’s definitely something,” Bucky tilts his head in amusement.

“I was gonna buy him a drink, what does he like? Couldn’t see his bottle from where I’m sitting.”

“I was just ordering us another round, I’ll just give you his.”

Bucky turns back to the bartender and orders three beers for him and his friends.

“Thanks. Now let’s just hope he doesn’t fall out of his chair again when I give it to him.”

Bucky laughs as he remembers when, a few minutes ago, Sam had fallen to the ground laughing at Steve’s insistence that the Giants are super bowl bound this year. In that moment, as he listened to Sam’s hysterical laughter and Steve’s continued argument, he found himself wondering whether you’d be laughing along with Sam or if you were a die-hard Giants fan, like Steve. 

He’s realized there’s so many things he doesn’t know about you: your favorite kind of flower, how you spend your time on rainy Sundays, where you grew up, whether you eat pumpkin or apple pie on Thanksgiving. And this realization has sparked an endless curiosity in Bucky. He has a sudden urge to ask you every possible question he can think of and then memorize each and every answer you tell him until he’s familiarized himself with every nook and cranny of your beautiful mind. 

The bartender sets the drinks on the bar, snapping Bucky out of his trance. 

“Have at it,” Bucky hands the woman the beer and she heads toward their seats. 

Sam and Steve usually have no trouble finding women wherever the three of them go. Occasionally Bucky would get hit on at the bar or at a ball game, usually only indulging them for a minute or two before escaping to the bathroom. He had gone on a few dates over the years, but those only discouraged him.

One time his date had gotten so drunk that Bucky had to practically carry her to her door, where she then invited Bucky inside with clear intentions - an offer which Bucky had politely declined, of course. The girl after that had looked up from her phone no more than five times throughout the night, making halfhearted conversation as she scrolled through social media before thanking Bucky for dinner and ordering an Uber home. Needless to say, Bucky hasn’t had the best dating experiences since he’s been stateside. 

Sam, on the otherhand, has a whole folder on his phone filled with different dating apps - Kinder? Tumble? - he doesn’t remember what they’re called. For the life of him, Bucky can’t understand the appeal of swiping through woman after woman and judging them based off of a couple of pictures. Cliches be damned, he needs the butterflies in his stomach that he can’t seem to get rid of when he looks into a girl’s eyes for the first time, testing her name out on his lips, the involuntary grin on his face after making her blush, the excitement of trying to earn her phone number so he can ask her out. He wants a Hallmark-esque story to tell about how he met his future wife. 

At that, Bucky’s thoughts reflexively drift back to you and he turns to eye the door again. Seeing no sign of you, he lets out a sigh and heads back toward his friends. He sees the woman all but clinging onto Sam, who doesn’t mind one bit - if the grin on his face is anything to go by. Bucky hands Steve his beer and sits, passing the time discussing football with Steve. 

Another twenty or so minutes go by before Bucky gets sick of watching Sam not-so-discreetly exchange dirty talk with the woman. Bucky finishes his beer and stands up to leave once Steve heads to the bathroom. Sam doesn’t see Bucky walk away - his tongue is too deep into the woman’s mouth for him to notice anything else. 

Bucky heads toward the hotel, beginning to get worried about you. He gets into the elevator and presses the 5. Bucky doesn’t even notice the way he nervously taps his foot as the elevator climbs to your floor. He makes his way to your room and raises his hand, rapping his knuckles against the thick wood.

No answer.

He waits a few seconds before knocking again, harder.

Bucky feels his heart rate pick up ever so slightly when he calls your name and still doesn’t hear a response. He pulls his phone out of his pocket to call you and stops suddenly, cursing himself under his breath.

He’d never even gotten your phone number. 

Fuck.

He slips his phone back into his pocket and his fingers brush aroom key. Your room key.

You had given him your room key earlier. 

“Are you in there, doll? If you want me to go away then just say so. Promise I won’t be upset, sweetheart, just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

He knocks one last time and pulls the key card out to unlock the door. 

“I’m coming in, doll.”

He cautiously steps into your room, calling out your name again. He does a quick scan of the bedroom and the bathroom before concluding that you’re not there. 

As he heads back down to the lobby, he realizes he’s more frantic than he has any right to be. You’re not his to worry about. You’re not his to take care of. You’re not his. But he can figure that out later. Right now, he needs to make sure you’re okay. 

He walks through the lobby and the gift shop racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. You seemed understanding when he left you in your room. Maybe you felt rejected when he declined your offer to shower with you? If only you’d known how hard it was for him to say no to you, how his self-control almost hadn’t been strong enough. 

He rounds the corner to the hotel bar and instantly feels a weight lift off of his shoulders when he sees you sitting at the bar, wearing the Hawiian shirt that mirrors his own. Bucky makes his way across the room in quick strides.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you okay?” He places his hand on your shoulder and you turn to look at him. 

Any relief Bucky had felt just moments ago is gone as soon as he notices your tear-streaked face and watery eyes. He instantly reaches a gentle hand out to cup your face, which you promptly smack away.

Bucky raises his hands in the air, wanting to show that he isn’t a threat. A distressed and confused expression makes its way across Bucky’s face as his mind begins to race. He immediatley searches his memory again for what he could have done to upset you.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, ready to come up with a solution; ready to console you; ready to do everything in his power to take your pain away. This is the first time Bucky’s seen you this upset, and in this moment he decides he’ll do his damndest to make sure he never sees you this upset again. 

“Fuck off, Barnes,” you scoff, turning back towards the bar and downing the last of your drink.

Bucky stands with a dumbfounded look on his face, hands frozen in the air. Determined to make sure you’re okay, Bucky takes a seat next to you while you order another drink. 

“Doll, what happened?” 

Bucky feels as if his heart is about to pound out of his chest. It’s physically hurting him to see you like this, and it hurts him even more knowing that, based off your hostility towards him, it might be his fault. 

“Did I do something, sweetheart?”

You turn to Bucky, eyes lit with what Bucky can only describe as rage. 

“I don’t know, maybe you should ask that girl you were buying a drink for at the bar,” you scoff, an incredulous smirk on your face as the bartender places a fresh drink in front of you.

Bucky feels his whole body go tense at your words. His eyes close as he sucks in a strained breath, realizing how it must have looked if you had seen the interaction from afar. 

“Please, let me explain. It wasn’t what it looked like, I promise.” 

“Yeah right, James. Was that not you buying a drink for a fucking supermodel out there? Maybe it was your doppelganger out there that was laughing with her? I’m sure you weren’t trying to get in her pants. I’m sure it couldn’t have been the fact that there’s a hundred better-looking, more interesting women at this resort right now. I’m sure it wasn’t that you got what you wanted from me an-”

“Enough,” Bucky’s stern tone cuts you off. 

He looks around and sees the attention your little spat has drawn. He softly says your name, ocean blue eyes boring into your own, pleading. 

“Please, doll, let’s talk. Can we get out of here?”

He watches you contemplate for a moment before responding. Bucky’s eyes may have softened your resolution because you give in.

“Fine. I’ll hear you out, but that’s all I’m promising.”

“Of course,” Bucky nods enthusiastically as he stands from his chair, “if you still want nothing to do with me after I explain myself then I won’t bother you anymore. Swear.”

Bucky watches as you attempt to hop down from your barstool in your drunken state. You barely land on your feet, stumbling forward. Bucky reaches out instinctively, wrapping his hands around your forearms before you land face first on the hard floor. 

“Careful, honey.”

You remove your arms from his grasp and head towards the lobby, Bucky following behind you. Bucky stops you with a light hand on your shoulder in front of the gift shop.

“Hey can you wait right here for a second?”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now, James?”

Bucky tries to ignore the twinge of pain he feels as you call him by his first name again. 

“Please, just trust me. I’ll be back in one minute, just sit right here.”

He directs you to a couch before going into the hotel’s little store. Bucky tries to calm himself down as he walkes toward the little fridge and grabs a bottle of water. He struggles to wrap his head around that fact that the two of you went from playing football and scuba diving earlier today to him having to beg to talk to you. 

He tries his best to be polite when the cashier asks him about his night, meanwhile he can’t shake the image of your devastated eyes at the bar. He couldn’t let you go on thinking he’d do that to you. Couldn’t let you go on thinking that he would use you and throw you aside like that. 

After he pays, he grabs the water bottle and thanks his lucky stars when you’re still sitting where he left you.

“Drink this please, doll.” He extends the water bottle.

He’s expecting you to put up a fight, but to his surprise, you snatch the bottle from him and down half of it in one go.

“Good girl.”

Bucky doesn’t notice the effect his words have on you, even in your outraged state. 

“Let’s go outside.”

Bucky’s hand hovers over your lower back as you walk, ready to reach out and steady you in case you stumble. Bucky guides you to the beach, almost empty at this hour. When you’re far enough away from the few people scattered around, Bucky plops down onto the sand and reaches a hand up to help you down next to him. 

After you sit, Bucky keeps a lose grip on your hand. When you don’t make any attempts to pull it away, he tightens his grip and pulls your joint hands to rest on his thigh.

Bucky takes a deep breath before beginning. 

“After I left you in your room, I went down to meet Sam and Steve at the bar. At one point, I got up to get everyone another round of drinks. That’s when that woman approached me. I was afraid she was going to hit on me at first, and if she had, believe me, I would have turned her down.”

“She wasn’t hitting on you?”

“No, sweetheart, she told me she thought Sam was cute. She wanted to buy him a drink and didn’t know what to get him, so I just gave her the beer I had bought for Sam and let her give it to him. She took the beer over and was sitting with Sam when I got back. For the most part, her and Sam were talking and kissing while me and Steve tried our best to ignore them. Eventually, Steve got up to go to the bathroom and I came to look for you because I had no desire to be around them any longer and I was worried about you.”

“Oh. So you and her weren’t flirting? You didn’t buy the drink for her?”

“‘course not doll.”

“Shit, I’m sorry, Buck.”

Bucky feels the tension seep out of his bones when you call him ‘Buck’ instead of ‘James’. 

“Don’t be, doll. I’m sorry for how that looked. And even more, I’m sorry that you thought I’d ever do that to you. I would never use you like that then just move on to another girl like it never happened. Besides, I haven’t even begun to get I want from you, honey.” 

“Huh?”

“Earlier you said I’d  just taken what I wanted from you. That’s not true.”

Bucky won’t have everything he wants from you until you know that being able to spend these last few days with you has made him feel like the luckiest man alive. Until he’s convinced you that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever met. Until he’s able to help you overcome all those unwarranted insecurities stupid fucking Brock put in your head. Until you’re his. 

Bucky’s afraid to say all of this out loud, both because he doesn’t want to scare you off and because he’s not ready to admit to himself how quickly and deeply he fell for you. So instead, he brings your hand up to his mouth and presses a kiss to it. 

Almost as if you understand, you don’t press the topic, just let out a little sigh at the feeling of Bucky’s soft lips on your skin. 

“I really am sorry though, Buck. I overreacted. I guess I just thought you got bored of me and decided to leave, like Brock. Besides, it’s not like we’re exclusive. I mean we hardly know each other, it’s not my place to tell you what you can or can’t do with other women.”

“Doll, I wouldn’t waste time with other women when we’ve only got a few more days here. I’d spend every second of my time left here with you if I could,” Bucky rubs his thumb along your hand, hoping that you believe him. “Listen closely. I understand why you got upset. It looked bad. Also, Brock is quite possibly the dumbest man on the planet for having someone as fucking perfect as you and ‘getting bored’. I don’t know how you put up with that undeserving piece of shit for so long. You deserve to be fucking worshipped, don’t ever settle for anything less.”

“Thank you, Bucky,” he doesn’t miss the way your eyes start to water again at his words.

“Promise me, doll.”

“Promise what?”

“Promise me that you’ll never settle for anything less.”

Though the thought of you being with anyone else at all pains Bucky - he knows it shouldn’t -, he needs to know that no matter who you end up with after you leave Hawaii, you’re being treated right. 

You hesitate for only a moment before responding.

“I promise, Buck.”

“So,” Bucky braces himself, “are we okay? If you want nothing to do with me, like I said before, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Yeah, Bucky” your lips curl into a gentle smile, “we’re okay.”

Bucky lets out a sigh of relief when you scoot yourself closer to him and lean against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around your shoulders and pulls you tight, pressing a kiss to your head. 

“Good. Now drink the rest of your water, sweetheart.”

Bucky uncaps the bottle and hands it to you. You sip on the water and Bucky feels at peace for the first time in hours, with you in his arms and the waves crashing onto the sand in front of him. He could stay here forever, he thinks. It’d give him plenty of time to ask you all those questions. Before he can get the chance, though, he feels you shiver. 

“Shit, honey, are you cold?”

Bucky had been too preoccupied thinking to notice the breeze blowing against the two of you. 

“Let’s go back,” he doesn’t wait for an answer from you before standing and helping you to your feet. 

As soon as you stand, you interlace Bucky’s fingers with your own and the two of you make your way back to the hotel. You seem to be walking a lot more steady now, the bottle of water and time spent on the beach having sobered you up.

Bucky fills the walk back with apologies for hurting you and you reply with your own apologies for jumping to conclusions. By the time the two of you reach your floor, you agree to leave the events of the night behind you and move on.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” Bucky questions, getting ready to say goodnight and turn toward his room.

Your response surprises Bucky.

“Do you want to come back to my room?” you smirk at Bucky and begin to run your hand up his forearm.

“Are you sure, doll? We don’t need to do anything.”

After everything that’s happened today, the last thing Bucky wants to do is make you feel like you’re being used. He needs you to know he’s spending time with you for the right reasons. 

“I want to if you do, Buck.”

“Okay, but only if you’re certain.”

Bucky wouldn’t even be considering it if he didn’t think all the alcohol had worn off, but he hasn’t seen any signs of intoxication since the walk to the beach.

“You made me a promise in the dressing room.”

Bucky’s eyes darken as he recalls you getting on your knees for him in the hotel gift shop earlier. 

“I did, didn’t I?” 

Bucky leads the two of you to your room and unlocks it with the key card he still has. 

“Can’t leave me hanging, Bucky.”

He’s sure you’re more than ready for some attention after he had edged you.

“You’re right about that baby.” he opens the door and walks in behind you.

Bucky can tell by the way you stand awkwardly in front of the bed, you’re waiting for him to give you an order. The realization makes his dick jump in his boxers. He typically prefered to be dominant in bed, and he’s grateful for the way you seem so eager to submit and let him take the reigns. 

“Listen, doll, tonight is all about you. You were so good for me today. You did perfect and you earned your reward.”

Even if he didn’t actually do anything wrong, Bucky can’t help but feel responsible for the tears you shed today. He wants to rid the image of your watery eyes staring at him with hate from his mind and replace it with one of your face scrunched up in pleasure as you scream him name. 

He needs to make it up to you. 

Bucky pulls his shirt over his head as he stalks toward you, throwing it on the floor. 

“Take your clothes off and get on the bed.”

Bucky does nothing to hide the ravenous look in his eyes as he watches you undress, he just palms his rapidly growing erection. He lets out a low curse when you expose your breasts to him. You remove your shorts, then look up to Bucky with a questioning look as you thumb the waistband of your panties.

“All of it, doll.”

You pull the fabric down your legs and lay back on the bed, waiting for Bucky’s next move. 

Bucky allows himself to revel in this moment only for a second - you spread naked on the bed, waiting for him with desperate,  pleading eyes - before he reminds himself that he’s supposed to be making it up to you right now.

Bucky stands by the edge of the bed and grabs your ankles. He drags your body down the bed with ease until your hips are on the end of the bed, legs hanging over the side. Bucky kneels down onto the floor, face level with your center.

Bucky is only slightly shocked at how wet your core is. He can’t help the groan that escapes him as he watches your slick pool out. 

“Fuck, doll. You’re killing me here.”

You buck your hips up into the air seeking any sort of relief and Bucky throws your legs around his shoulders. He doesn’t even give you a chance to beg, he dives right in. He laps up the wetness that has escaped from your pussy before suckling your clit into his mouth and tonguing it. 

You let out a shriek and it only spurs Bucky on. 

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and suctioning your clit between his full, pink lips. 

“Fu- Bucky! I’m cl- oh god- I’m close!” Bucky thinks that he could spend the rest of his life down here, on his knees for you, if you continue making sounds like that. 

He grips your thighs around his head, fingers almost bruising. He rapidly flicks his tongue over your clit and you come with a moan that Bucky thinks may be the second-best thing he’s ever heard - number one being your laugh, of course. 

Bucky returns to your hole to drink up all of your release. He listens to your gasps as you ride out your high, hips bucking into his face. 

“Okay, Buck, it’s- fuck- it’s too much, baby,” you try to pry your legs open around his head but his grip is unrelenting.

Bucky lifts his mouth off of you just long enough to say, “Not yet, honey. I want one more,” before he reattatches his mouth to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He meant it when he said he could stay down here forever. He pays no mind to his stiff knees - sore from the hard floor, or the wet spot formed on his boxers from his leaking dick. He wants you to forget about all the pain you felt today, wants to eat you out until all you know is pleasure, until the only word your mouth is able to form is his name. 

“Holy fu-ahh,” you grab the comforter beneath you for dear life.

“You can do it, doll. Don’t you wanna be a good girl for me?”

Bucky brings a hand up inbetween your legs and slips two fingers into your soaked pussy with no resistence. 

“So fucking soaked baby. This little pussy really was desperate for me, huh?”

He curls his fingers until he feels that spongy spot inside you and continues brushing up against it when he hears your moans. 

“Yes, Bucky! Right there, please!”

“No need, to beg tonight doll. I know exactly what you want and I’m gonna give it to you.”

Bucky sucks your mouth into his clit and ever so gently scrapes it with his teeth, eliciting a borderline pornographic moan of his name from you. He continues curling his fingers and focusing his mouth on your clit.

You don’t give him a verbal warning, but Bucky knows you’re about to come undone again by your breathing and the way you’re squeezing his fingers so tight he’s afraid you’ll push them out. He eats you through it, fucking you on his digits as you moan and gasp for breath. 

He pulls his hand from your core and fucks you with his tongue until you start to whine from overstimulation and only then does he pull away, rising to his feet. 

“Did so fucking perfect for me, baby,” he praises, “I’ll be right back, promise.”

He bends down and places a kiss on your damp forehead, and heads for the bathroom. Bucky is reminded of his hard-on when his zipper presses against it rather uncomfortably. He shucks off his pants and shoes on the way to the bathroom. 

He grabs a washcloth and dampens it in the sink with warm water, and returns to you in his boxers. He gets back down onto his knees and spreads your legs. He drags the warm cloth through your folds, cleaning up the mixture of his spit and your arousal. Once he’s done the best he can, careful to avoid your oversensitive clit, he presses a kiss to the top of your mound. 

He stands and throws the washcloth into the pile with the rest of the dirty clothes. 

“Tired, doll?” Bucky fights back a laugh at the way your eyelids droop, struggling to stay open. 

“No, Buck, lemme take care of you,” he sees your eyes drop to his boxers.

“Not a chance, honey. Told you tonight was all about you. Time for bed,” he smiles fondly at your attempt to take care of him.

You put up a brief fight, but Bucky manages to get you under the covers and climbs in next to you. You immediately curl into his chest when he’s beside you and Bucky’s thankful you can’t see the grin on his face. 

He brings a hand to your hair and smoothes it down. 

“Goodnight, angel.”

The only response Bucky gets from you is the light sound of your breaths, hot against his chest. 

Once he’s positive you’re asleep, he allows himself to admit out loud, “I think I’m falling for you, doll.”

To be continued...

Tags Below (Discontinued after this chapter, follow @buckyispunkwrites and turn on notifications!

@vicmc624 @distancedss @kandis-mom @cakesandtom @buckbuckybuckaroo @volleyballgirl2022 @sapphirebarnes @xobabygirl143xo @sarah1barnes @ladyacrasia @charmedbysarge @buckybarnessimpp @angelicbabydoll @tilltheendofthelinepal13 @jaydensluv @hilmiponken @openup-yourmind @marvelavengersstuff @noonespecial90 @primroseluna @unadulteratedpastazonkpeach @moonlightreader649 @buckyb-stan @skyesthebomb @grandma-sickomode @n1ght5h4d3-24 @bean-bean2000 @jchotch726 @sad-not-glad @happyglitterturtle @gyokujyn @bumblingbamblingbandofbaboons @differenttyphoonwerewolf @cjand10 @its-daydreamer23 @chemtrails-club

[dckweed]

THE DEATH OF PEACE OF MIND ➺ bob floyd

summary: In which bob floyd gets himself into a bit of a pickle and calls on his hot, recently single neighbor to help him out, the situation is mutually beneficial..in more ways than one.

warnings: fake dating, violence, domestic violence mentioned, nicknames, slowburn, eventual smut.

this is an x reader fic where reader is referred to as sunshine or sunny as a nickname, also i know the moodboard is a lil wonky no one say anything im gonna fix it! i made it on my phone half asleep lmao.

part one: here

PART TWO - THE FAKE INSTAGRAM

After the whole fiasco of snorting water out of your nose and scaring the poor man half to death, Bob insists on taking you to the quaint coffee shop on the corner of the street you guys lived on, just a few steps away from the front doors of the apartment building. Reluctantly, you agree, curious to know more about the predicament your neighbor had gotten himself into. He lets you have a few minutes to throw a cropped zip up hoodie over yourself, and a baseball cap to help shade the still slightly visible bruise on your face before you meet him in the hallway. He had clipped Cosie to her leash and the excited little furball was yipping excitedly when you stepped out of your home, closing the door behind you. 

“Hi Cosie baby!” You say excitedly, your voice sweeter than honey as you crouched down to her level to excitedly scratch her behind the ears like she loved. “You being a good girl for your dad?” You ask teasingly, you knew she could never be bad, and Bob practically treated her like a princess anyway. 

“Always is..” Bob says, his accent drawling out a few of the syllables in a way that you just loved to hear. God, you thought to yourself, this man could record an audio book and have everyone swooning.  “You ready?” 

You smile, straightening up. “Yeah, lets go..” 

He was truly a gentleman you noted, he held the door to the apartment building, and the coffee shop for you as if it was second nature, only humming in response to your simple thank you, and when he pulled the chair out for you at the small table on their outdoor patio, you hoped that he didn’t notice the blush on your neck and face. Were you really so used to guys that were such brutes that you got flustered by basic acts of kindness? He hadn’t argued with you too much on paying for your own drink, letting you do it after a small squabble..or maybe you really didn’t give him a choice..you had already payed with your phone while you were arguing before he had even gotten his wallet out of his back pocket. 

“So,” You say as he sits across from you, looping Cosie’s leash to the more shaded side of the table. “Can you elaborate on the whole girlfriend thing for me?” Now it was him who was turning red. 

He fidgets awkwardly with his hot, black coffee for a moment, those eyebrows knit tightly together again. He clears his throat before he speaks. “I kind of..already told all of my friends that we’re dating.” He says, you lean back in the chair, your head tilted slightly towards the sun as you listen to him. You enjoyed the warmth on your face.“I..i don’t know what came over me..we were all drinking, and they said something about dating it somehow turned to me..and i just..i’m so tired of Hangman and his fucking manwhore whorier than thou attitude and always teasing me for not going on dates all  the time..” 

“So you told them you were dating someone?” You ask, seeing where the story was going. You could tell that the story alone was irritating him by the was his hand clenched around his coffee cup and the tightness around his mouth, the tick in his jaw. You wondered how long he had been putting up with this ‘Hangman’ guy. 

Bob nods. “And then they asked her name, and at the time the only thing i could come up with quickly enough to not seem suspicious was Sunny..so..” You laugh a little bit, this man was adorable, and obviously gentle even though he was clearly upset by what he was talking about. You liked that about him, you decided. 

How could you not help him? And really, what could it hurt? “How long would you need me to be your girlfriend for?” You ask, bringing the straw of your iced latte to your lips, moaning softly as the heavy caramel flavor hit your tongue. You could drink it forever. You see his body sag a little at your words, a little more relaxed. 

“Just long enough to make it believable.” He states, eyeing you from across the table. Cosie’s cold nose pokes your leg and you happily reach down and scratch her head, giving the little baby all the attention she wanted. “A couple of nights out with my friends, obviously, and im sure Nat will want to hang out with you one on one..” He says, actually thinking of the scenarios that would most likely take place. “A couple of official work events, probably, I would say, a few months..” 

You turn your attention back to him, lips pursed. A few months? That would land you around the beginning of the year..through Christmas..you had agreed to go home for the holiday’s this year. You arched a brow as you thought. It would look good if you brought a man home to your family, especially a man like Bob, they would swoon all over him..you wouldn’t have to spend the whole week hearing your grandmother tell you that you should be married already, or have a family like your brother and sister.. “Okay, i’ll help you out, but only if the fake boyfriend thing can be used in my favor too..” You say. He nods immediately. “So..rules?” 

The two of you talk for a couple of hours at the coffee shop, the little table filled with the occasional laughter as you talked about rules of the arrangement, and what would need to be done. Later on you found yourself on one side of your couch, Bob on the other as the two of you tried to work out a schedule. 

“Can you meet with me and the crew at our usual bar tomorrow night?” He asks, looking up from his phone at you. Natasha and Jake were blowing up the group chat about meeting you and it was slowly driving him insane. He had about forty text messages from this morning until right that moment. 

You shake your head. :”I have work tomorrow night, but i’m off Monday.” You say, looking up from your own phone. You had been texting your sister about your plans for the Holidays. “My sister wants to know where you’re from, and what you do and i dont think she’ll take ‘navy dude’ as an answer” Bob looks at you, slightly offended. 

“Navy dude?” He asks, setting his phone down for just a moment. “Sunny, i’m not just a ‘navy dude’, i’m a weapons system officer. I control the weapons and radar in multi million dollar government aircraft.” He looked completely offended by your terminology and you struggled to hold in a giggle at the way he was explaining his official job title to you. “..and I’m from Montana.” 

“That explains the accent.” You say, texting your sister back.

Bob scoffs. “Accent?” He’d never been told he had an accent before. “Where are you from? This is basic stuff we should probably know about each other if we want people to believe this, you know?” You hummed in response, he was definitely right. “Also, Phoenix wants to know what your instagram is..” 

“Well, that depends on how much you want your friends to know about me.” You say, setting your phone down to look at him. He looks up at you, eyebrows furrowed again. You have the sudden urge to reach across the damn couch and smooth the area with your thumb, but you resist. “Don’t look at me like that, you know what i mean. Are they the judgemental type?” He opens his mouth, as if to protest and say no, but then closes it and gives a slight nod. “Okay, so fake insta it is.” 

It was a good thing you already had a fake instagram account for your grandmother and other family members because it made it a hell of alot easier for you. “A fake instagram? Won’t they think something is weird if it doesn’t have any pictures of us together on it?” He asks, not fully sure of your plan. You roll your eyes and maneuver yourself so you’re laying in Bob’s lap, looking directly up at him. 

His entire body goes stiff and you can’t tell if its from surprise or from being uncomfortable with your proximity, but you don’t move and after a few moments his thigh muscles untense. He smells good, you realize as you breathe in slightly. “My fake account isn’t exactly fake, okay?” You say, opening the instagram app on your phone and switching it to your second profile. “It’s just not the one I use mainly that i post on for my friends or well, if you were actually my boyfriend, you, to see..” 

“Then what is the point of it?” He asks looking down at you, his accent flowing smoothly through you. His voice was a little quieter now that you were so close to him, and in all honesty you didn’t mind it one bit. 

You chuckle, giving him your phone so he can scroll through it. “I normally use it for my grandma and other family members, so they won’t have a damn heart attack..they already don’t like my line of work, there’s no need to go killing them with some pictures.” Bob hums in response, scrolling through a few of the posts. “It’s the extremely tame version of my main account.”

His phone pings again and he grunts, rolling his eyes. Before he can even try to hand you your own back, you grab his off the arm of the couch above you and thank god that it was already unlocked. You gasp at the text. “Hangman wants proof that im a real girl and not just a figment of your imagination.” You say, an idea coming to mind. You roll off of his lap and quickly stand, pulling him by the forearm to his feet as he makes a disgruntled noise. 

You lead him down the small hallway, past your bedroom and into your bathroom (which was thankfully not its usual disastrous mess of makeup and lingerie scattered everywhere). “Okay, stand there..” You grab him by the biceps, shocked at how solid they are because he honestly didn’t seem to be overly buff to you, and position him exactly where you want him. 

“Sunny, what’re we doin’?” He sighs, letting you move him around every which way. He had to admit, he liked the way you grabbed his arms, the way you squeezed at his biceps. He tried not to let his mind linger too much on it though, tried not to notice the way that your fingertips left a trail of goosebumps in their wake every time they lingered anywhere on his bare skin. 

“Taking pictures, duh.” You say as if it should have been obvious. You turn around, satisfied with his position, and face the mirror yourself, positioning his arm around your shoulders and over your chest as you press back against his surprisingly solid body. You weren’t exactly a short person by any means, but there was definitely a noticeable height difference between you and him. Your head just barely cleared his shoulders, his chin able to rest perfectly onto of your head. It made for a cute photo, you thought and you pretended not to notice the goofy smirk on his face as you captured the photo as stealthily as you could, leaning back into his chest as his chin rested on top of your head, his arm over your chest and your hand wrapped around his forearm as you took the picture, acutely aware of his hand just over the waistband of your lululemon pants. 

You hum, thinking about what other positions would be cute enough to send to his friends and post to your fake insta account, you wanted to hard launch him to your family too if you were hard launching to his friends. You turn the camera of his phone front facing, and set it up to take rapid photos on a timer before you abruptly turn around and jump up, locking your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck. 

“Smile at me.” You say, as your hand snakes up into his hair. You didn’t really have to though because he was already smiling at you in surprise as you leaned your forehead against his. “I didn’t think you’d be able to hold me.” You giggle suddenly, and the sound makes his smile grow wider as he adjusts his hands so they’re fulling on your ass, supporting you as he drops his head to your shoulder. 

The whole ordeal of the photo session takes about fifteen minutes or so, and when you’re finished you lead him back out into the living room. “Sorry to jump on you like that, but i had to catch you off guard, i wanted it to look believable.” You say, sitting back down on the couch. He only hums in response, taking a spot next to you as he watches you pick through your favorite photos in his camera roll to text to yourself. 

“You’re awfully good at that,” He ques, watching you edit some of the photos you had sent to your own phone, before you compose an instagram post of the best ones. “I always just take them and post them, i never thought that filters really mattered..” 

You chuckle at the man, shaking your head. “What’s your instagram, bobby?” You ask, using your nickname for him as you type out a caption for the post. 

“Oh, uh,” a slight blush heats up his neck and face and he clears his throat before responding. “It’s @thewizzo ..natasha actually came up with the handle.” You type it into your caption, eyebrows furrowed. You’re about to ask him what the hell a wizzo is when he answers it for you. “It’s uh, well, sometimes its a nickname, or another acronym for WSO..” 

“Oh, snazzy..” You say showing him the post. It was a series of four photos and a small, but cute caption.

“Is it Bobby approved?” You ask. He gives you an affirmative nod and you hit the post button, knowing it would only be a matter of minutes before your sister and brother blow up your phone. “Okay, well, here’s to our fake relationship!” You say, attaching the photo of Bob holding you with his hands on your ass to a text with your instagram handle and sending it to his friends group chat. 

The phone pings before you’ve even handed it back to him. 

Hangman: holy fuck she’s real.  Phee: shut up you moron, im following her rn!!  Rooster: …wait i thought i was imagining this conversation last night Payback: oh, shit..way to go Bob!!

taglist!

@mamachasesmayhem @hangmandruigandmav @shotgunhallelujah @shiara04 @3tabbiesandalab @tgmreader @flrboyd @goosterroose @mrspedropascal5683 @sugajar

@dory-98 @justherebecausesafarisucks

[lovelytsunoda]

stand by me // mick schumacher

summary: the past few seasons have been rough on mick, and sometimes all y/n could do was reassure him that she was there. because sometimes, standing by someone is the best that you can do.

pairing: mick schumacher x female reader

warnings: haas, guenther steiner. mentions of serious crashes. sad mickey, burning of old haas merch, angie makes an appearance

when the night has come, and the moon is the only light we see. i won't cry, no, no, no, i won't shed a tear. just as long as you tell me, say you're gonna stand by me.

it was one thing to watch your boyfriend hit a barrier at two hundred kilometres an hour.

it was a totally different thing for every mechanic in the garage to simply roll their eyes instead of expressing some iota of concern.

“what the fuck is wrong with these people.” y/n huffed, moving to push past the viewing desk, fully intent on fighting guenther in his own garage before louise pulled her back

“it’s not worth it.” the older woman reminded her as she tried to keep a clear head.

micks headset wasn’t working; it was like gary was talking to a wall. nobody knew if mick was okay, and the only reaction she could see from guenther was annoyance. even kevin had come over the comms to ask if mick was okay.

y/n took her headset off, stumbling over to gary as she tried to keep her emotions in check. getting upset wouldn’t be good for anybody, but that crash was bad. the car had essentially split in half, taking mick with it as the session was red flagged.

“gary, is he okay?” she asked shakily, reaching for something to hold on to. “gary, i need to know.”

“i can’t hear him talking, but I can hear movement. i think he’s trying to climb out, which is a good sign.”

she didn’t start breathing again until she knew he was out of the car, knew that her mickey was safe. when they brought him to the medical bay, louise helped her there on shaky legs, and she sat with mick while he called his mom, and then they both cried together.

but from that moment on, they knew his days with haas were numbered.

“gene called me a dead man walking.” his voice sounded so small. he had been transferred to a hospital and taken in for extra observation. his mother was flying in from switzerland, and the fluorescent lights were giving him a headache.

“gene haas better watch his fucking back.” y/n scowled. “what does he know about this goddamn sport? he’s a tax criminal!”

but that day changed things. even though he knew he had y/n in his corner, you could see the clouds in mick schumachers eyes, the little glimpses of his father coming through. he would t talk to her about it, insistent that he could somehow change gene’s mind.

next race weekend, she walked with sad eyes and a heavy heart towards the mercedes motorhome and the one man that she knew would never steer her wrong.

toto wolff had become something almost like a surrogate father for y/n once she had started hanging around the track more. the older man looked out for her when mick couldn’t. toto knew she had never felt at ease in the haas garage, that there was something about the atmosphere in guenther steiners garage that made her uncomfortable.

“hey, toto.” she sighed, sinking into the austrians arms as he opened the office door.

“hey, kiddo. how’s mick doing?”

she frowned, following toto into his office. “he won’t talk about it. he still thinks there’s something he can do, and he shuts me down every time I suggest he start talking another team. I think guenther is stringing him along.”

it hurt that mick was emotionally firewalling her. yes, they still talked, but never about his career. he always shut her down with that sad look of his, or a suggestively placed kiss, attempting to distract her from the topic with the thought of something else.

she was dead worried about him.

“the air is thinner where gunther is from. it’s impairing his ability to think properly.”

she snorted. “toto, I’m worried sick about mick, he needs to talk to someone. you knew his dad. so did bonno. maybe talking to someone who knew micheal will help. I don’t know, but I can’t let this keep going on.”

“I’ll give him a call. you’re doing the best you can, y/n. please don’t beat yourself up over doing or not doing enough. it’s going to take time for mick to feel like himself again.”

“I know. I just wish that there was more I could do.”

later that week, she and mick flew to texas to visit his sister and her boyfriend ian at the family ranch. the moon was high, refracting off the water and illuminating the evergreens. mick and ian sat outside by the fire pit, angie scampering around their feet. gina and y/n were inside the house, stuffing a cardboard bankers box full of old haas merch. it had become glaringly clear to both women that mick wasn't likely to have a seat the following season.

and mick wasn't taking it well. he was still processing it, but there had been times where she felt like the man she loved would cry himself to sleep. she had the suspicion that once she went to sleep, her lover began to cry, so that she would never see him in such pain.

gina and y/n came outside, two cardboard boxes in hand as they met the men by the fire pit. they had beer bottles in hand and sad smiles on their faces as y/n rejoined her boyfriend, sitting on his lap before gently kissing his cheek.

"don't think about it, mickey. you've talked to toto, right? and jost? you aren't completely out of options for next year." y/n frowned, running her thumb over mick's bare arm. "don't give up hope just yet."

mick kissed her softly, resting his cheek against her skin. "why did you put all of my old haas merch in a cardboard box?"

"because we're burning it." she said matter-of-factly, getting to her feet and grabbing a baseball cap from the top of the box. "it'll be cathartic."

she stood in front of the fire pit, listening to the wooden logs crackle and pop as she frisbee-threw the cap into the fire, watching the fabric catch fire. she flipped the bird at the burning object with both fingers, shouting insults at guenther steiner as she watched it burn.

“take that you old austrian bastard. I bet gunethers cock is like, minuscule and that’s why he has to call his boyfriend gene before he makes any decisions.”

mick laughed a little, pulling a polo shirt out of the box.

“I mean come in now, he calls gene more than he calls his wife.” gina added. “who fucking does that? if I was his wife I’d be asking for a divorce right about now.”

mick balled up the shirt in his hands, punting it into the fire as if it was a baseball. the fabric caught fire instantly, swallowed by the orange flames as they spread across the royal blue fabric, leaving blackened ash in its wake.

“you’re right.” mick exhales, putting an arm around his girlfriend . “that felt really good.”

lifting their beer bottles to the sky and turning up the stereo, all summer long by kid rock blasting loud enough that the speakers shook, the family sang along, throwing various haas-related memorabilia into the fire and watching it go up in a cloud of dark grey smoke.

“they made ugly-ass merch anyways.”

“uh, guys, is it supposed to smell this rancid?” ian asked, scrunching up his face at the smell of burning plastic and fabric.

“oh fuck.”

“we didn’t think this through! ian, come help me get some water to put this out with.”

ian and gina ran off to get water, angie barking after them as mick and y/n fanned at the fire, laughing crazily as they used their sweaters as fans, hoping to tamp down some of the blaze.

“hey, babe, I want to tell you something.” mick smiled. “I want you to be the first to know.”

giving up on fanning the fire, as the oxygen was making the situation worse, y/n paused, her wool sweater falling limp in her hands as she looked at her lover.

“toto wants me to sign as a reserve driver next year. he’s already lost nyck to alphatauri and I think stoffel is going to aston martin. if haas drop me, I still have options. I can still come back to the field somehow.”

“oh, mickey, that’s wonderful.” y/n gushed, throwing her sweater down on a deck chair before moving over to mick and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” mick reminded her, kissing her softly, cradling her body in his arms as they swayed back and forth to ‘hero’ by enrique iglesias, the song playing softly in the background as they kissed in the stinky firelight.

angie padded towards the couple, nuzzling into y/n’s leg as they stared lovingly into each others eyes.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, mickey.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @lorarri @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz

[schemmentis]

Somethin' Stupid - Pt. 2

Part 1

Summary: Yours and Melissa's senior year.

Warnings: strong language / mild/vague depiction of sexual assault.

WC: 4.7k

Melissa doesn’t ace her midterm but she does do incredibly well. Just like you knew she would. Joey does eventually work up the balls to ask her out. You don’t even ask her what she said when she tells you he asked; you know it was yes. 

You feel like you blink and midterms turn into finals, which turns into the end of the year. You spend plenty of time with Melissa through it all. Though, it is a lessening amount of time. You hadn’t thought much of it until your mom is asking where Melissa is shortly into the summer. Then, when you do go to Mel’s her mom is hugging you tight and saying she’s missed you and that you’re not supposed to move out of her house. Even once Melissa and Kristen Marie do.

I know I stand in line

You still see Melissa throughout summer but when you do it tends to be with Joey, too. You’ve learned not to mind it but you do miss your solo Melissa time. Her attention always seems halved when you do see her. Not that you blame her, really. You’d be the same if you had just started dating someone. Which, you could be. You just don’t find much interest in pursuing that like Melissa and the other girls your age seem to. It’d be nice to have a partner, of course it would. You wouldn’t deny that but it isn’t your focus. You’re more worried about college applications and setting yourself up for what comes after next school year once you graduate.

Which isn’t to say Melissa isn’t also worried about the same things. She is. You’ve spoken with her about where she’s been applying and you know she’s heart set on going into education. She just also has Joey. You don’t really know how she had the time last year to worry about him and grades and you dread how much she’s going to juggle when the new school year starts. If anyone can manage it, you know it’s Melissa.

Until you think you have the time

You see your favorite redhead a little more often when senior year starts. Her arm slung over your shoulders on the first day back as you both walked in that morning. 

“You’re still gonna end up valedictorian.” Melissa teased you.

“I said that in like, fifth grade, Mel.” You rolled your eyes at her but smiled all the same. You hadn’t realized how much you missed her over the summer until that September.

It feels like the universe is righted once senior year starts. A few nights a week sees you sleeping at Melissa’s. Occasionally, Melissa will insist on a switch that week and stay at your house. Usually when Kristen Marie is on her very last nerve or the weeks of important tests. Your house is quieter, she claims. You think it’s her sly way of ensuring you’re there if she needs help. She still doesn’t outright ask for it. Instead, she’s asking you your opinion of things or how sentences she writes sound when she reads them aloud to you. It’s more rare for her to actually have you look over her work.

To spend an evening with me

Truthfully, you’re more surprised it’s never Joey having her insist on sleeping at yours instead of her house. You had expected by now some fight to have spawned between them. They are both hard headed and opinionated. You don’t love Joey, or consider him your friend, but you find yourself able to spend more time around him over senior year. He treats Melissa right and makes her smile that big genuine smile she has. You’ll give him credit for that much, and you suppose, as long as he’s treating her right and keeping that smile on her face he can’t be so bad.

You even share Melissa with him over the holidays. When it used to be a near full two weeks of just the two of you holed up in one of your houses. Emerging only for family dinners that included both your families. Your chosen spot this year is Melissa's house. Your parents are there nearly as much as you though they don't sleep over like you do. Joey isn't there the full two weeks like you are, though nearly every other day he is. He’s beginning to grate on your nerves like the brother you never had would. A flash of annoyance one moment and the next you're perfectly fine, sharing something even. You send a pointed look at Melissa when she jokes that you better not be stealing her man. For one, you'd never dream of stealing anything that made Mel happy. She knows that. For another, as you had informed Mel when she'd made the joke, “ew.”

You thought new years would be the one night of your break that Melissa would tell you was Joey’s. Even if it was still at her house with all your parents around. Most of the adults fought to stay awake until after the ball dropped if only to ensure the teenagers milling around the house were behaving. You expected she'd want to ring in the new year with him. Traditional new year kiss and all. Instead, she's snuggled at your side beneath the large comforter you've stolen from her bed as you stand on her house's back porch. Just like every other year.

Joey, and a few of your other mutual friends are somewhere in the house. Along with Kristen Marie and a few of her own, and the adults of course. Outside, it’s just you and Mel in the dark. The porch light kept off. You know when it hits midnight; the sky lights up with fireworks. 

“Happy New Year, Kid.” You hear Melissa beneath the cracks of fireworks. Her arms are wrapping around your middle beneath the comforter you're holding around the two of you. 

“Happy New Year, Mel.” You answer. Your arms lightly squeeze around her shoulders, your head leant against hers. The two of you, staring at the bursts of colors filling the midnight sky before they fade away until the next whistle of fireworks signals the next round.

The new year seems to go faster than the beginning of the school year. Almost like you hit senior year so now life has doubled its speed on you. Sometimes you really believe it has. It feels like last week you were meeting Melissa in second grade. Your graduation being in just a few months doesn’t sound right even to your own ears. Certainly not to your parents. Both yours and Mel’s keeps bringing up old memories and pictures of the two of you. No matter who’s house you’re at that week.

“Ya, we’ve seen those about ten times this month, Ma!” Melissa calls over her shoulder, pulling you past her mother beckoning you both for another memory lane walk. She doesn’t pause until she’s pulled the both of you into her room and shut the door. Dramatically she leans against it as if to keep her mother out. Though you both know she didn’t follow you upstairs.

“I swear, they’re getting worse everyday. Mine and yours.” She mutters before she finally pushes away from the wood. Her backpack is taken from her shoulder and tossed haphazardly onto her bed before claiming space on it herself.

“They just keep seeing us as second graders, Mel. It’s fine.”

“If I have to sit through one more flip through my baby book, I swear I’m movin’ out when I turn eighteen.”

“Sure ya are, Mel.” You tease, pointedly rolling your eyes as you flop into the space on her bed next to her.

“Let’s forget about the past, and the future of graduation.” She says, hands waving in front of her like she’s erasing both sides of time away. “More important is prom is only a couple weeks away, and you don’t have a date.”

You make a face. “Who cares if I have a date? I’m not going.”

Melissa bolts upright, looking at you with wide eyes. “What do ya mean you’re not goin’?”

“Exactly what I said, Mel.”

“You have to!” She all but yells. You scoff which only has her gripping your wrists like she’s pleading. “You skipped junior prom, you can’t skip senior prom, Y/N. Junior prom was so boring ‘cause you weren’t there. I left halfway through!”

“And snuck into my room through the window, I remember. You almost busted your ass.”

“You have to come this year.” Melissa barrels on, ignoring your recollection. “You can’t miss both proms. I didn’t kick up a fuss about last year because we still had this year. It’s senior year. You deserve to let loose and it’ll be actually fun if you come.”

You roll your eyes at Melissa’s attempts to convince you. “You know how much I hate crowds, even if it is just our class and the underclassmen. I’d have more fun pulling my hair out, Mel.”

“But you’ll be with me! You know I’ll make sure you have fun.” Melissa insists before she sing-songs the next sentence in slight tease. “Aaaand, I know a certain someone was thinkin’ ‘bout askin’ you to go with hiimm.”

You raise a very skeptical eyebrow. “Who?”

“I’m not ruining the surprise unless you promise me you’re coming!”

“That depends on who’s asking!”

Melissa looks at you for a long moment, considering if it’s worth it to spill the beans. “Okay, okay. It’s Mikey Castalucci.”

“Mikey Cast— Joey’s best friend Mikey Castalucci?” You repeat, pulling your wrists from Melissa’s grasp.

Melissa sheepishly shrugs one shoulder. “He was askin’ Joey if he thought you’d say yes if he asked ya.”

“Right, ‘cause Joey would know who I’d say yes to.” You mutter, rolling your eyes. You cross your arms before Melissa can grab your wrists again.

“Look, at least it’s not some junior, or worse, a freshie askin’ ya, right? Just come with us, please? You’ll have more fun with all of us, I know it. We don’t even have to get in the middle of everything; it can just be our little group. Please?”

You sigh heavily as Melissa begs next to you. You just know you’re going to regret it. Still, you find yourself sighing out your answer. “Fine. I’ll say yes to Mikey and we’ll all go together.”

Melissa makes a wordless, happy, noise before she’s sprawling herself across you to hug you tight. “We’re gonna have such a good time, you’ll see!”

And if we go some place to dance

Mikey does ask you to prom. Late that next week. The equivalent of last minute with all the confidence in the world as he leans against the locker next to yours. You would guess Melissa had told Joey to tell Mikey to ask because it was all but guaranteed.

You do your best to look more excited than the just grin and bear it you really feel. It isn’t that Mikey is awful, per se. He just isn’t somebody that has ever really interested you. Not that any of the boys in high school ever really did. You suppose you feel better about going with him than anyone else that may have asked. At least him being Joey’s best friend double ensures Melissa with you most of the night.

I know that there's a chance

You agree for everyone to meet at Melissa’s. It’s easier, in the end. Especially with Joey driving the four of you to school.

You do your best to keep Melissa from going overboard as the two of you get ready in her bedroom upstairs. She’s truthfully closer to freaking out about and over anything to do with you. Your dress, your hair. How Mikey is going to see you. When you point out that she could freak out over herself for maybe five seconds she scoffs. Joey has seen her before plenty. Like they’re an old married couple after only a year, if that, together.

You’re half a second away from smacking Melissa’s hands away from you when she finally steps away. Maybe because she can see you glaring a hole at her by now. Maybe because she does actually have to worry about getting ready a little bit in order to actually get ready.

Which she finishes just in time for her mom to be yelling up the stairs that the boys are there already. For as much as you have wanted to fight your best friend for the last hour as she picked over you, you’re gripping her hand tightly on the way down the staircase. You aren’t nervous, at least not about Mikey or how you look. You remind yourself of Melissa begging you to go so it would actually be fun this year. So that you won’t look back and regret not going. You still aren’t sure either points she’d tried to make would actually be true. Still, it’s enough to get you down the stairs to actually endure the next few minutes.

Your parents, actually both yours and Melissa’s snapping enough pictures to rival paparazzi through the next two minutes or so. Two minutes feels more like two hours. Mikey stabs you a couple times trying to pin the corsage onto your dress. You’re nearly poised to rip it from his hands to do it yourself when he finally gets it. His arm wrapped around you and held you tight to his side for the pictures your parents are still taking. Thankfully, Melissa has her usual tact in getting the four of you out of her house and away from two sets of parents. You’re blinking stars from your eyes once you climb into Joey’s truck from all the flash photography.

Your relief doesn’t last very long. You may have gotten away from both your parents but now you have the night ahead of you. The short ride to school in Joey’s truck doesn’t fill you with a lot of hope. Mikey not helping you out of the back seat of the cab doesn’t help you feel much better. 

You’re on edge from the moment you step into the gymnasium. It’s decorated nice enough, there’s music playing. There’s also a crowd of your entire class, most of whom you just tolerate, and the underclassmen, most of whom you don’t really know at all. Add to that, Melissa is already excitedly tugging Joey to the dancefloor and you’re definitely beginning to regret agreeing to tonight.

You won't be leaving with me

You do your best to make the most of it, anyway. If Melissa was right about one thing, it’s that you do deserve to let loose and have a fun night. This might not be your ideal form of it but that doesn’t mean you can’t still have a good time.

Mikey, it turns out, isn’t a bad dancer. It turns out, too, he’s more observant than you’d have thought and actually considerate. He mentions after a dance or two that you don’t like the crowd. The fact he’s paid enough attention to notice surprises you as much as him agreeing to dancing just on the edge of the dance floor to make you more comfortable.

You dance a few more songs with Mikey. Melissa catches your eye at one point long enough to send you a wink and a smile when she sees you. You hope she isn’t getting any big ideas about setting you up with Mikey for more than tonight. You might be getting along better than you thought but you aren’t about to date him. At least, though, you can tell she’s having a nice time with Joey. So, the night is worth it.

When you stop to take a break, Melissa and Joey are still going. You don’t mind. Mikey doesn’t force conversation but he also doesn’t sit in awkward silence. It’s surprisingly companionable, standing on the sidelines of prom with him. He even convinces you to do the little picture booth set up with him. 

After a while though, all you can focus on is the people. The overwhelming amount of sound in the gym between the music and the chatter of everyone. Your senses sort of short circuit as you sip at your plastic cup of punch, trying to look like you aren’t a moment or two away from snapping completely. Mikey gently taps your elbow for your attention.

“You wanna get some air?” He offers, over the bass of the song playing.

You nod before gladly following him back out the gymnasium doors. You breathe deeply the crisp night air as you lean lightly against the brick a few steps away from the door. “Thank you.” You mutter to Mikey, standing next to you. “I just need a minute or two.” You promise, trying not to be a wet blanket to the evening.

For his part, Mikey waves your assurances away. “Don’t worry ‘bout it. We can stay out here as long as you want. I don’t mind.”

Once you catch your breath, you’re surprised to find yourself and Mikey in decent conversation. A little more than the brief ones you had back inside. It’s definitely easier to hear each other out here. You don’t have much in common but you don’t mind hearing Mikey’s perspective on things all the same. He’s smarter than you thought he was. You knew he had decent enough grades to be on the varsity basketball team at least since last year but he makes some good points when you start debating with him about a few different topics.

You’re just about to say you should get back inside. It’s been more than a few minutes, and you’re feeling much better after talking with Mikey for a while. It’s then that he kisses you. You freeze for a brief moment before you think ‘fuck it’. It’s a night to let loose and have fun. Kissing Mikey doesn’t give you sparks or butterflies or whatever the hell else you’ve heard other girls talk about. Heard Melissa talk about Joey. You don’t hate it though. So, you gently tug him back in for another kiss.

He’s carefully pressing you back into the brick wall, allowing you to set the pace of the kisses between you. For a minute, at least. Suddenly, Mikey switches, kissing you a bit more roughly. His hands gripping your hips and moving down to your thighs as his body weight leans into you.

You manage to turn your head when he pulls back just a bit for breath. “What the hell are you doing?” You gasp, trying to catch your own.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Mikey says practically into your ear. His hands are on your thighs, his fingers skimming inward. “Let’s have a little fun, huh?”

You try to push him off of you but Mikey is quite a bit bigger than you. His weight has you pinned to the brick of the building. 

“Get off,” You grind out through your teeth. In the next moment you feel his fingers brush against you through your underwear as he tries again to convince you it’s just fun. “Get the fuck off me, Mikey!”

“Get your hands off her before I put your ass to the fuckin’ concrete, Castalucci!”

You hadn’t even heard the doors to the gym open with everything going on. You open your eyes that you don’t remember closing when Mikey is pulling away from you. The sight of him trapping you to the wall is quickly replaced by Melissa. Her hands softly on your shoulders as Joey leads Mikey back inside.

“Are ya okay, Y/N?” Melissa checks on you softly. 

Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place

You can only manage to nod. She gently brushes the hair out of your face, guiding you to sit with her on the curb. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah,” You manage, albeit a bit shakily. “I’m fine. You came out at the right time.”

“Joey and I were takin’ a break from dancin’ and I couldn’t find you, last I saw you’d been takin’ a break with Mikey. I checked the bathroom and when I didn’t find you in there and didn’t see you back in the gym I made Joey come check with me out here. I’m damn glad I came out when I did. I’m just sorry it wasn’t sooner. He’s got some fuckin’ nerve puttin’ hands on you like that when you’re sayin’ no. I’ll bust his knees with a baseball bat, I swear. I’ll—”

You stop Melissa threatening Mikey with a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay. You got me, huh? It would have been worse if you didn’t come out here.”

Melissa’s eyes close. Almost like she’s envisioning that worse. You hope she isn’t. You’re already doing that enough for the both of you. “I’m fine, Mel.”

“I shoulda never told ya to come with Mikey fuckin’ Castalucci.” She mutters.

“Stop.” You say quickly. “You didn’t know what he was gonna do or I know you wouldn’t have.”

“You’re damn right I wouldn’t have.” She agrees.

And have a drink or two

You raise your hands to wipe your eyes. You’re not crying and you refuse to start just because you’re a little shaken. When you pull your hands away you blink at Melissa holding a flask out to you. You have no clue where she even pulled it out from. Let alone how she snuck it out of the house.

“What’s in it?”

“Vodka.” Mel says with a shrug.

You sigh, taking it from her hands to take a decent swig before you pass it back. The two of you spend the next few minutes quietly trading the flask. 

“You know your mom is so gonna know you took that from her liquor cabinet.” You finally say as Melissa puts an arm around you. The two of you huddling closer together against the chill wind of the night.

“Nah, Kristen Marie took some too. I saw it.”

You laugh. “You can’t just blame it on your sister, Mel.”

“And why not?”

“‘Cause your mom is used to both of you and is gonna know it was both of you takin’ her shit.”

“Maybe,” Melissa eventually agrees before she turns to you and whispers conspiratorially. “But I’m her favorite kid so I’ll be fine.”

You gasp dramatically. “Melissa Schemmenti! You tell lies! We all know I’m your mom’s favorite kid.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up, Y/N.” She answers half heartedly. 

And then I go and spoil it all

You grin, kissing her cheek in quiet apology. “Nah, you’re right. You’re her favorite. You can probably get away with it.”

“I can definitely get away with it. What’s she gonna do? Ground me from graduatin’?”

“She could ground you from Joey, y’know.”

Melissa scoffs, taking the last sip or so from the flask. “Like that would kill me. We’d be just fine. Hell, it’d probably make the asshole actually miss me.”

You shake your head. “You call him an asshole but you loooove him.” You tease Melissa, knowing you’re right whether she agrees with you or not.

Instead, she’s suddenly sobering as she looks at you. “I’m gonna tell him to kick Mikey’s ass to the curb. He’s got no business stayin’ friends with a fuck like Castalucci. Not after tonight.”

You sigh. “You don’t have to do that, Mel.”

“No one said I had to. I’m sayin’ I’m goin’ to. Nobody messes with you like that without payin’ for it. Not while I’m breathin’.”

By saying somethin' stupid like—

“I love you.” You breathe out after her tirade on your behalf. 

Her arm around you squeezes you to her side affectionately. “I love you too, kid.”

You feel a douse of cold shoot down your spine. It hits you suddenly. Melissa doesn’t mean it the way you mean it. You mean it how she would say it to Joey. You take a slow, deep breath as your ribs suddenly feel tight. 

“I think I’m just gonna go home. I don’t wanna go back in there.” You mutter.

“Oh, wait here,” Melissa is quickly getting to her feet. “I’ll get Joey to take us in the truck.”

By the time you stand up, she’s halfway back to the gym doors. “No, I think I could use the walk.”

She stops short, turning back around. She takes a few steps back to you. “Then I’ll walk with ya.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t wanna miss the rest of prom. You were looking forward to it.”

“You’re more important. Ya shouldn’t be alone right now. Ya don’t have to be, y’know?”

You shake your head. “I’ll be fine, Mel. Just go have a good time with Joey.” You insist. 

For good measure you take a few steps to meet her in the middle, your arms hugging her tightly. “Go have fun. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?”

Wordlessly, Melissa nods. She must see how little you’re likely to change your mind. You back away, silently waving her back inside when she looks back one more time at the door. You turn around before she opens the doors to go back inside. Before she can decide to chase after you.

She doesn’t. Whether because she knows better to push you or because she just doesn’t know what to do, you don’t know. You walk home. By the time you get there, you’re freezing. You really should have worn a jacket but it would have ruined the entire look.

You quietly slip inside. The house is dark. It’s late enough that your parents are already asleep. You maneuver your way to your room without turning on the lights. You peel off your dress, and everything else you’re wearing. You take a quick shower and put on clothes Mikey hasn’t tainted forever with what he’d done.

You told Melissa you’re fine. You are, as much as you can be. Still, you have a moment of reliving the moment when you try to go to sleep. Instead, you lay awake in your bed, in the dark. Until you start to see the sunrise from your window. Until you can’t keep your eyes open anymore and slip to sleep.

You force a smile at breakfast. You tell your parents all the good parts of the night and pretend the end of it didn’t happen. You lie that you went with Melissa and Joey and Mikey for burgers late the night before to keep from eating. You feel too nauseous. You force yourself to eat the rest of the weekend to keep your mom from questioning you or getting suspicious.

Monday morning, you see a figure approaching you from the side as you’re grabbing your books from your locker. You had hoped it would be Melissa that would find you first. With the lack of shoes clacking against tile, you know it isn’t. You glance to your left, quickly turning back to your locker and what you’re doing when you see Joey.

“Hey. I just wanted to say I’m sorry. About Mikey. He shouldn’ta done that to ya.”

You take a breath as you grab the book you need. You just hear Melissa comin’ out of his mouth. Not anything just Joey. You look at him. You’re angry, you suddenly decide. Suddenly feel. 

“You’re still friends with him though, aren’t you?”

Joey briefly looks surprised at you snapping at him. He raises his hands in front of him in a sort of half shrug. “Yeah. I mean, c’mon Y/N, he’s my best friend.”

You scoff. “I guess that’s the difference between you and me.” You mutter, turning back to your locker.

“You’re sayin’, what, you’d drop Mel if it was her?”

You turn back, staring Joey in the eye. “If she touched you when you didn’t want it, especially like that? She wouldn’t be a quarter of the person I thought she was.” You turn away just enough to slam your locker shut. 

“Yeah. I’d drop her if she did that to you.” You make yourself crystal clear. You don’t bother stepping around Joey, letting your shoulder nudge him on your way past.

You storm past Melissa who had just been making her way to the two of you. She calls after you but you don’t stop. You already know she isn’t going to chase you. She’s going to turn to Joey. Still, you keep pace, slipping into your first class before either of them catch up to you for further conversation.