#there's a million and one ways even *buildings* that swear up and down that they are accessible

[valentineish]

The term "walkable cities" makes me bristle. Despite the assumption that this is ignorance borne of U.S. citizenship, I do understand the term. I share a goal with the people using it.

But the focus on walkable perpetuates the exact design principles that makes my life hell: that anybody who isn't an ablebodied, healthy adult is not a consideration. The fact that other activists are telling disabled people to sacrifice our quality of life for a narrow vision of developed spaces is what's frustrating.

[kuromiiyuuu]

"You're insufferable." part i, jjk.

-in which you got in a heated argument with jjk men.

part ii.

toji, satoru, and nanami, (f).

warnings, genre. swearing! not proofread! | angst to fluff! |

notes i. this was requested from like a year ago so... yeah.

Toji. the scarred man was flaring up your temper for sure, you sat at the your side of the passanger seat. drowning in your own sea of thoughts whilst you looked outside the window of the moving car. tiny drops of water was plastered right on the car window. the sound of pitter-patter by the rain can be heard but slightly muffled.

the car however was silent, toji, your boyfriend was driving with a deadly grip on the steering wheel. you both were driving home after a disasterous date. it was going on fine at the beginning but all of a sudden, your meticulous boyfriend and you were suddenly fighting with him over something you didn't seem to think about now. you were just fuming in your seat because he had raised his voice at you in front of many people, "are you going to keep up this being a bitch act of yours?" he bites, you can feel the venom seeping through his voice.

you stayed silent, trying to send him the hint that you weren't going to talk to him any sooner. he hisses beside you before slamming his hand on the steering wheel, making you look at him with a flinch, "damn it!" "what the hell is wrong with you, toji!" "now you decide to talk to me."

"if you were just being so fucking easy back there, then maybe i wouldn't have yelled." the man beside you fills you in, trying to point out your mistakes from the fight.

"oh so now it's my fault that you have anger issues that you can not somehow get a hold of? you're a fucking assassin, toji. yet you act like you can't color inside the lines with a gun to your fucking head."

"what the fuck did you just say?" his voice grumbles, and just in time for a thunder to roar in the sky, light flashes in a second before the rain came down heavier. toji took a glance at you, his eyes were filled with anger and you can tell, you calmed yourself down. looking out from the window again you wrapped your own arms around your body to provide warmness, you couldn't handle it anymore. there was never a day where you don't find yourself arguing with the scarred man over and over again, you were tired, to an extent.

"you're a fucking jerk." you mumble, resting your head on the window as you feel your tears starting to build up. it hurts you, him being too comfortable yelling at you in front of a crowd, it shatters your heart into millions of pieces. you knew you were hard to love but... toji made you feel like there wasn't hope at all.

"I hate you." it came out like a whisper, your voice vulnerable and weak. toji's grip loosened, his eyes softening in an instant with his face muscle finally relaxing, but not in a good way. damn did those three words, eight letters, stab his heart a million times repeatingly, over and over again. he was hurting you, and now he realizes it, he has gone too far now, "y/n."his voice was gentle now, no sign of anger or irritation.

you didn't answer, you felt so weak now. you felt like you were going to burst into tears within a second, " 'm sorry." your boyfriend says, your heart warms up in an instant, it was unfair, he had this effect on you and you just can't ignore it, "whatever." you replied with a sob at the end of your sentence, you had been crying again... because of him.

toji didn't like seeing you like this so he swore in him, he would kill anyone that made you cry, and if he did make you holler again, he'll end his self instead.

Satoru. "This is crazy." you say in frustration, looking at your lover as if he has grown tw heads to make your eyes shine with horrid, "oh this is crazy? you're

crazy." the silver haired exclaims with his tone sharp and absolute, you were taken a back by his response, "oh wow, don't try to point this on me when you're the one who flirted with a girl." "it's like I can't even do anything in this relationship anymore, you have this fucking vision in your head that im so fucking wrong all the time."

"you're just making up excuses, satoru. it won't cover up the fact that you flirted with the girl." you pointed at him, your eyes glared at him with your voice slightly raising. smoke was basically coming out of satoru's ear, he was fuming, "you're insecure, that's what you are." "what did you just say?" "you make a big fuss whenever i talk to another girl, you're afraid ill le...

there was the sound of your palm hitting his right cheek, it echos through out the room with your eyes tearing up. who am i kidding, it already rolled down your cheeks, your eyes held betrayal. satoru, never in your life did he point out your insecurities in an argument.

"what happened to you. if that's what you think then I'm afraid we're better off by ourselves." you say calmly, your tears still can't help themselves from falling, "y/n." "no, you don't say those hurtful things and expect me to be okay."

"im sorry, i know i crossed the line." the silver haired exclaims with a saddened voice, the slap was like a slap from reality. truly the reason why he realized his mistake. "i would never do that to you." your voice cracked, you couldn't anymore, the burden rose up to your throat and it made hard for you to say something without finding it hard. you were crying now.

backing away from your boyfriend your back hits the wall and you slide down to the floor whilst trying to calm yourself down. and just like that you feel your boyfriends familiar scent crouch down to your level, grabbing your hands gently to replace his slender hands to wipe away your tears. "im sorry baby, im so... fuck, i hate seeing you like this."

Nanami. "im just trying to calmly apologize to you, i dont want to fight anymore." the blonde says, he brings his hand up to his mouth in a frustrated manner, you stood there, your arms crossed in front of your chest with your eyebrows furrowed. your face was bear but the outfit you were supposed to wear to your date with him was still on your body, "how is that going to help me, is it going to bring back the two hours i waited for you!" you exclaim, you were frustrated, the man forgot your date because he went to a party at work. and he didn't even tell you he was going, so it caused a misunderstanding, and you waited fir him like a fool.

"did you get hurt? i said i was sorry didn't i? can i go to bed now." he says in almost a monotone voice, you were offended by the way he reacted. it was almost like he didn't even care about your feelings. your eyes by now had widened, "so you're invalidating my feelings now? so what you said sorry?" "god your voice it's so..." "its so what." "...." "answer me!"

"fucking annoying! that's what it is, you yell, you yap do you ever get tired?" nanami finally loses his composure and his words were like daggers stabbing your heart. and if you listened closely, you can hear your heart breaking into pieces, and shattering beneath you. "you... you're the least man i have ever thought to say those words to me."

"wait." but it was too late, you had slammed the door in your shared room, nanami was left inside the cold atmosphere of the living room. he drops his self to the couch, placing his elbow on both his knees as he runs his finger through his blonde locks in frustration, he fucked up.

he needed to calm his self down before comforting you, in case he hurts you again.

[circeyoru]

Collection of Overlords = Requested

[Alastor x Soul Owner of All Overlords!Reader]

The Request

Overlords. The sovereign rulers of various domains and areas of the Pride Ring. Sinners that rose to power through dealing with souls and troppling over the weak to show who’s the one in power and control. Together, they own millions of souls and representing the controlling powers of the city

Yet what sets them apart from the other demons in power? Why were they the sovereign rulers of their specialty and not another that claims or tries to threaten them so? 

There’s a system, a power even beyond them combined and rival that of the King and Queen’s, that stablizes them. A supporting system, if you will, one that approves of the Overlords’ existence. As other rings have their Sin to impose power and their form of order, Pride has something similar. The founder of the Overlords and owner of their souls; the Collector

To call yourself an Overlord and rule over some form of territory, be it a street, a block, a town, a building complex, you have been approved by the Collector. No, one doesn’t seek the Collector out, the Collector seeks them out. It proves potential, it proves worth, and it proves attention-worthiness. All Overlords know who were the real one by the mark on their souls, a stamp of proof, that they’d take pride in

Rarely to none would the Collector gather Overlords together. So they make their own gatherings to keep track of any new members to their collection. There were times when some would fake their claim, they were viciously shredded where they lied. There was barely any proof, the mere aura and presence was enough to tell

All Overlords were the Collector’s prized souls, their worth to the Collector is shown when their mark remains intact as time goes by. Once the Collector deemed the Overlord as trash, they are let go and the other remaining Overlords will devour to keep the collection worthy

It’s the Overlords’ goal and duty to remain relevant and strive to be stronger. Not only to secure their title as an Overlord, but to also stay within the Collector’s elite collection

“Do you hereby swear your allegiance to me, the Collector, so long as you are in my favour? In return for entering my collection, you will be protected and secured of your authority and strive in your domain. Know that only I am able to throw you away and none other should you fall beyond my interest and favour.”

“I solemnly gage (I solemnly swear).”

“Yes, as you wish.”

“Why, absolutely, Darling!”

“F**k yes!”

“Of course, Dear.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Naturally.”

“Hell’s yes!”

Alastor felt it, his soul like a beating heart when one meets their love. His smile widening and excitement building up within him. At the same time, there was the touch of nervousness too. He quickly made his way down to the lobby where Charlie was seen welcoming a few guest that wanted to be redeemed

Well, the hotel has been gaining popularity after the battle with the exterminators and the fact that they won was no secret or easy feat to pull. Maybe the renovations also played a part. But Charlie was none the wiser whenever someone was expressing a want to be redeemed 

Though to Alastor, it was a bigger deal when he spotted what was among the group of newcomers. There was no mistaken it, it had to be. While you were in disguise, you were still as elegant and commanding as the day he sold his soul to you and be the only one to have gained your attention and favour the fastest among your collection

Alastor held himself back, he wasn’t proper of him to interrupt Charlie’s little welcoming speech and you wouldn’t like it if he did. Luckily, while Charlie was busy with settling the other guest before you, he was given his chance to greet you

“Alastor, pleasure to be in your presence,” Alastor took your hand and kissed your knuckles, his eyes staring up at yours while he bowed low to show respect and the need to please. “Quite the pleasure.”

“Charmed.” You let a smirk form on your face, though it quickly fade to keep up with appearances

“May I inquire as to what brings you to this fine and renewed establishment?”

Charlie arrived in time to greet you as well. Being her usual cheerful and upbeat self even after all these years, and surviving the horrid battle against the angels. If you weren’t in disguise, you would have given her a pat on the head and a hug to comfort her. Yet you stick to your little plan and stayed level headed

It was merely to fine a place to stay, you explained how Vox was someone that had no sense of privacy with how he bugged everything. You kept the spying on you part to yourself, though you knew Alastor caught on when you mentioned Vox’s devices. Then you gestured to Alastor and praised that he was a perfect counter and addition to the hotel building since he cancels out Vox’s devices naturally

Alastor let out annoyed radio static when he learned of Vox displeasing you, how disrespectful. If only Vox could do even worse to be dropped out of the collection, then there’d be a real battle. Since deathly fights between the Overlords was forbidden. Still, Alastor could feel his smile widening at the superiority over Vox he had and praise he received, even with his 7 year disappearance, you didn’t let him go

Vaggie was quick to reject your stay and attempt to push you out when you weren’t even lying to want to be redeemed. Saying that the hotel wasn’t a rent-free place for demons to just show up to crash for their own amusement

Alastor was smart and quick to interject and maybe nearly slap Vaggie lobby but he managed to keep his hands behind his back. He gestured to the other guests as he made a point that turning away guest was rather rude for someone wanting to redeem demons. You added you can pay if it was too much, or just leave. Which gave Alastor a mini panic

Charlie agreed in the end and Vaggie received a look from Alastor while you thanked them with a smile. Alastor followed closely behind you while the tour was underway with the other new residents. When Charlie was arranging everyone’s stay, Alastor immediately had your room key ready, promising that it was the best room the hotel can provide. If you lacked anything, he’ll provide!

Since everything simmered down, you were in your room waiting for Alastor’s knock on your door to bring him to his radio tower that was guaranteed to not be listened in. He showed up at record time and offered you his hand to teleport the two of you to his tower

With a snap of your fingers, you let your disguise fall, revealing you in your glory and natural look. You sat on his desk while Alastor stood. The two of you started chatting then inquiring about the other’s well-being and current entertainment

It was rare, but you do visit your Overlords from time to time just to chat or catch up, it not only shows a want to connect and understand your souls, but also your continued interest in keeping them. There were times when your meeting with them could be a sign of you removing your hold over their soul, then it was a matter of time before the other Overlords knew about this development and hunt them down to own or destroy

An example was Husk. In your observant and keen eyes, you watched as he bet on the power and protection you granted him without a second thought, thinking that he would win back soon enough. Not soon enough for you as it would appear. You didn’t even visit him, you merely let him go without a word of warning. In fact, your patience and the extra time were your warnings

One that he didn’t even realize he was given. So Alastor set out to dominate Husk when he was removed from the collection. With Alastor’s win, he owned Husk’s soul and revealed that he was history to you. The look on Husk’s face was enough of a dedication to you, Alastor returned his dues

Though there were times when you allowed some lesser demons into your circle. Namely the Vees, specifically Valentino. He was at risk of your removal, yet time and time again, he was saved by Vox and Velvette who proved they work better as a team than individually like other Overlords. So to keep Vox and Velvette, Valentino was allowed to stay

That’s until you find more worthy ones

Yet it was in the Overlords’ nature to be the remaining one in your collection. To put down the other as a method of showing their superiority to you. You knew this ploy, so you set that they weren’t to fight or belittle the other with the aim to kill. You didn’t need or want souls that would harm other souls you hand picked

The Vees were your unique case. A case that was fragile to maintain. Wrong moves here and there, disrespectful words spatted out, risky actions committed. And they risk their entire group gone from your collection. Was there one that was save from your removal? Hardly, it was with a comparison does Vox and Velvette appear to be better

“When are you going to show me your wound, Alastor?” You got to your goal. You knew of the battle, you also knew Alastor took up the impossible task of defeating Adam to show you he was strong to remain in your elite. You knew your souls do their best to maintain your interest in them. Alastor was no different, especially when he disappeared for 7 years.

“A mere scratch! Nothing for you to worry over.” Alastor laughed, who was he lying to?

“It wasn’t a question.” You spoke with half-lid eyes staring back at him.

He flinched and bowed his head, slowly undoing his coat and shirt, finally showing you the large bandaged wound that was soaking with more blood by the minute. “It’s… not as bad as it seem…”

You becken him closer to you so you could inspect it. Silence filled the room. Alastor was ashamed, the silence was deafening to him, he can’t handle it. His heart beat fast, his mind wondered if you’re throwing him away like you did Husk. This was the calm before the storm.

His head jerked up when your soft hands pressed against the center of his chest, he’d have felt more of your touch if not for the layers of bandages. A warm feeling covered his wound and he felt energized and relaxed, his knees caving in when your hand retreated

He didn’t even realize his head was in your lap as his ears pinned back while your hands combed through his hair soothingly. His eyes closed from the peace he felt

It reminded him of the time when he first met you. How foolish was he to want to overtake you, to think you were weak, to think that you were only relying on the souls you collected. No, you held real power, power he can’t even imagine

“Alastor, you know I’m never going to let your soul go, right?”

“Thank you, My Liege.”

BONUS!

When another Overlord meeting was held, nearly all were in attendance. The news of your appearance was enough of a goad to draw in the others. Even the Vees were all present

Once everyone was seated, Alastor took the floor. You approached him, he wasn’t released by you, and you were staying where he was. As expected, there was an uproar. How was Alastor this lucky?!

Alastor directed to Vox, retelling your displeasure in his stalking while he defended that it was for protection. More eyes directed to Vox, seeing him as the reason why you weren’t as active as before, you were uncomfortable because of all the devices and camera Vox has around the city

“Hahaha! However you spin this to your favour, you can’t deny that Our Lovely Protector and Liege is vexed by your actions. So much so that Our Liege has seeked me out for haven! Now what’s to be done about that, hm?”

“You little!!!”

Meanwhile, you watched from the comforts of your room while a holographic display. A fond smile on your face and a chuckle of amusement let out, “I’ve collected quite the group, huh? I never get bored with them around.”

Note: Yes~ This is out now!! Wonder if you guys like this one. I'm wondering if I should add 'yandere', but then it's more like that, more of devotion and loyalty. Anyways! Love to hear your thoughts (if you have any)

I got a challenge for you though!! Can you name, in order, all the Overlords that were used to illustrate swearing allegiance to?

Circe Y.

Other Works: MASTERLIST

Taglist:

@aconfusedwonderland

@crowleysthings

@donustellaron

@mistpurpl3

[astronomoney]

Waitress

Pairing + WC: Jason Grace x mortal!reader, 2.1k Warnings: NOT canon compliant, this takes place in my world where Piper and Jason realized they were best as friends right after lost hero and Leo never got with Caylpso. also TOA never happened because it makes me sad. Also somewhat not proof read Summary: Jason has been sneaking off for weeks and Leo is detirmened to find out why. Or alternativly: Leo, Piper, Annabeth, and Percy go snooping in Jasons buisness Authers note: Hey hey! first fic in what feels like a million years! I definitely have to shake the rust off a bit but this was a fun one to get back into it! I was listening to Waitress at work and got this idea so i ran with it. Honestly not much of the actual relationship, theres a lot of set up and other characters but I think I may do a part two if this does well :)

Jason Grace was a busy man. Going between camps, building shrines to all the minor gods, serving as Pontifex Maximus, taking trips to Olympus to meet deities, and head counselor duties. Everyone knew he had no time on his schedule. His friends were lucky if they could get him to spare an hour to catch up, much less get him to a bonfire. So why on earth is it that Jason Grace would take upwards of two hours out of his day, three days a week, to walk out of camp and go to who knows where?

Leo was determined to find out. He’d watched Jason sneak off for the past month, and he was sick of wondering. He tried to bring it up but just got a red-faced muttered excuse about it’s just a walk in the woods and I have to finish my work before he'd disappeared into his cabin.

“I think we’re lost,” Percy said, stopping suddenly and causing Piper to almost slam into his back.

“We are not lost!” Leo exclaimed, “I swear he went this way,” 

“We’re miles from camp,” Piper butt in, “he could be anywhere,” she crossed her arms and glared at Leo. 

“We should turn back before someone notices we’re gone,” Annabeth added, looking up and down the road they were on. Leo had seen Jason sneaking off just before lunch and had convinced his friends to follow him. Now, here they were, on some back road heading through the woods surrounding the camp a mile and a half away from the border.

“Guys, c'mon! Don’t you want to know where he’s been going!” Leo turned back to the group. “He can’t have gotten far.” He kept walking backward in the same direction they’d been heading for the past 10 minutes. For a little while, they could see Jason walking along the side of the road, far ahead, but they’d kept their distance so he wouldn’t notice them. Then he made a turn at an intersection, and they’d lost sight of him. 

“Maybe he really is just out for a walk?” Piper offered.

Leo hualted now, “For two hours? No way, he’s definitely up to something out here.” He stared at the group, waiting for someone to disagree. No one did. It was definitely unusual behavior from the son of Jupiter to take so much time away from his work.

“We’ve been walking for 25 minutes. I say we go 5 more and then head back,” Annabeth spoke up, sending Leo a you owe me glance. 

“Perfect, 5 minutes!” Leo returned an appreciative smile before turning on his heel and continuing down the road with his friends in tow.

They rounded a corner a minute later, and Leo couldn’t help the I told you so grin that came across his face. In front of them, just a few more meters down the road was a genuine 1950s-style roadside diner with the name The Doo-Wop Diner plastered over the door. “See!” Leo pointed triumphantly, “Now imagine if we had turned back when you quitters had wanted to,” 

The group walked up to the diner, rolling their eyes at Leo’s antics. They peered in through the windows that lined the front. It was cute, with pastel blue on the walls, 50s-style booths, a jukebox in the corner, and a countertop bar.

“Is he even in there?” Percy asked, huddled next to Annabeth and scanning the restaurant.

“He’s got to be,” Leo squinted from Annabeth's other side.

“There he is!” Annabeth pointed to the far end of the bar where Jason was sitting. He had a cup of coffee and an open book in front of him.

“What’s he doing in there?” Leo asked as if any of them knew. “He walks all the way out here for ‘New York's best black coffee’?” He read off the sign in the window. 

The group looked at him for another minute in deliberation before Piper let out a quiet gasp. “It’s not the coffee he’s here for,” she was staring at something on the other end of the restaurant with wide, knowing eyes. “Look,”

When the three others looked back at Jason, they saw a soft, almost nervous smile on his face while he gave a slight wave. When they followed his gazeto the other side of the resturant, they all came to the same conclusion that Piper had. Jason Grace had walked nearly thirty minutes away from camp to a rinky-dink old diner on the side of the road to see you.

You were dressed in a 1950s waitress uniform and serving some of that aforementioned black coffee to an old couple. When you caught sight of Jason, your face lit up, and you waved back. As soon as you finished pouring the coffee, you brought the pot over to where Jason was sitting, even though he still had a full cup in front of him. The four standing outside were frozen in place as they watched the two inside interact. 

“Hey!” You said as you approached. The smile you had on now was so much more genuine than your usual customer service smile. “I missed you last week,”

Jason’s smile mirrored your own as he put a napkin between the pages of his book to mark his place. “Hey. Yeah, sorry, I had a last minute thing, uh, out of town, I had to do,” he had been called back to Camp Jupiter to resolve a minor god conflict and hadn’t been able to come in at his usual time. 

“Ooo, more of your mystery out-of-town work?” He’d mentioned it several times but, for obvious reasons, couldn’t tell you the whole story, and being the golden boy he was, he couldn’t bring himself to flat-out lie. “Is it something illegal?” You asked.

Jason let out a laugh at that. “It’s definitely not illegal.” He pushed his glasses back into place. 

“Are you sure? Because based on what you’ve told me, it’s out of town, it’s odd hours, it’s highly secretive, and it’s hard work.” You listed things out, counting them on your fingers. “You’re either selling drugs or possibly a secret agent.” You finished with wide, questioning eyes.

He laughed again at your list. You always had a way of putting his mind at ease. When it was swimming in work, and he couldn’t think straight, you always managed to bring him back to sanity. “It’s all boring, I promise. I’d much rather be here.” 

Your grin returned. “Oh really? I didn’t know you held our fine establishment in such high regard.” While you spoke, the cook rang a harsh bell and shouted, "Order up!”

“Thanks, Cal,” You called while you grabbed the two burger plates from the kitchen and walked them around the counter to deposit them at a table nearby. Jason watched you while you worked, the soft smile never once leaving his face as you handed out napkins and refilled some water. 

Once you were back, the conversation picked up exactly where it had left off. “It has its selling points,” he mused. The other half of that sentence, mostly about cute waitresses with the brightest smiles and the prettiest eyes, stayed caught in his throat. The pair slipped into an easy routine they’d established long ago. Jason would sit and drink his coffee while you bustled around, taking orders, running food, cleaning the occasional spill, all the while keeping up a steady stream of small talk. 

It was a mutually beneficial relationship. You got a bit of conversation to distract from the monotony of your work, and his blue eyes always seemed to make your day go smoother. Jason got a much-needed break from everything Greco-Roman. At camp, he always had so much responsibility, and so many expectations were weighing him down. Here, he didn’t have to worry about all that. You didn’t know who his dad was or what quests he’d been on, and you didn’t care. You liked him for him and not for the hero he was supposed to be. 

You returned to your spot across from him and picked up a rag to look like you were still doing something. “Have you told anyone at that camp of yours about this place?” You knew Camp Half-Blood existed. You also knew it wasn't anywhere close to normal based on the folks that came through, but they had the best strawberries even in the off-season, so you didn’t ask many questions.

“No way. Trust me, you do not want them coming here,” Jason had told you about his friends, minus a few details, but he had always emphasized that they were trouble.

“Uh huh, so then, who's staring at us from the window?” You asked with a sideways grin on your face.

“What?” Jason wiped his head around in time to see four panicked faces duck below the window sill outside. “Oh, by all the gods!” He muttered angrily under his breath and made a beeline for the door. “I’ll be right back,” he called to you, knowing you’d watch his book and half cup of coffee.

“Take your time,” you called back as he pushed open the door and stepped outside. 

For a second, all the demigods stared at each other without moving. Four crouched on the ground, wishing he hadn’t seen them, and one glaring at the group from above. Jason grabbed the front of Leo’s shirt and hoisted him up so he stood with his hands raised in surrender. “What are you doing here,” he hissed.

“Hey! Calm down, calm down,” Leo tried a friendly smile but was met with a glare. “We just, uh went for a walk?” He offered an explanation that sounded more like a question

“Wrong answer,” Jason sent his glare at the other three. “Did you all follow me?” He let Leo go and took a step back so he could glare at everyone all at once instead of having to shift his gaze.

“Leo made us come,” Piper threw him under the bus.

“Oh gee, thanks, beauty queen. It's nice to know where your loyalties lie.” Leo shot back, adjusting his shirt front.

Percy gave Jason a sly grin. “We were curious, but we never would have come if we knew you had a secret girlfriend out here,”

“She is not my girlfriend!” Jason cut him off. 

Percy put up his own hands, “Sorry, secret crush,” he corrected.

“She isn't! I don't-” Jason was full-on flustered now.

“Does that mean she’s up for grabs?” Leo asked. He looked back inside before getting smacked upside the back of the head by Annabeth. “What? She cute!”

When Jason looked back through the window he caught your eye and you sent him a questioning, yet very amused, glace. Jason had a bit of panic at that and quickly moved to usher the four away from the window and back towards the road. “Absolutely not! First of all, she’s a person; she can’t be up for grabs, and secondly, you can’t meet her!”

“What? Why not, she seems nice,” Annabeth asked.

“She is nice! And she's normal, and she doesn’t need to know any of you,” Jason managed to get them all about 10 feet from the front door. “Go back to camp. Just follow this road east for a mile, turn right at the second intersection, go straight for another half-mile, and you’ll see the border.” Jason gave the hurried directions and prayed to whichever god would listen that they’d all just leave.

“Whoa, man, we walked all the way out here, and now you're just gonna send us away?” Leo asked, putting a hand over his chest in fake offense.

“Yes,” Jason shot back flatly.

Piper spoke up next, “Wait, what’s her name? How long have you been coming here? How’d you even find this place? Does she like you back? It looked like she did.”

“Really?” Jason asked before shaking his head and focusing again. “I mean, I am not answering that,” he was still trying to shew the group away, but clearly, it wasn’t working. 

“Well, do they have good food here?” Percy added

“I saw ‘Breakfast all day’ on one of the signs,” Annabeth walked around Jason and back towards the door.

“And that burger meal she brought out looked really good,” Leo added. The four demigods went right past Jason and headed for the front door. 

“No, no, no, no, no,” Jason muttered as his friends ignored him and went in. “This is not good,” he said to himself, following the group back inside. They obviously had no intention of leaving, and he figured the next best course of action would be to simply die of shame. He knew this day would come; someone would catch him sneaking off, and his best-kept secret would become his worst nightmare. He just didn’t think it’d be so soon.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

Ahhhh first fic in a long ass time, its not my best work but personally I liked the plot so I got a little carried away and might have to make a part 2

[teamatsumu]

primal. (miya osamu x reader)

word count: 2586

warnings: a/b/o dynamics, fem!omega reader, porn with minimal plot, swearing, typical omegaverse jargon (scent, heat, rut, slick, knot)

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi @sleepyxxhead @priv-rose

This was getting ridiculous.

Three whole days Osamu had not spoken to you. And for what? Because of a stupid argument you had about his new menu? In your mind, if he didn't want constructive criticism, he really should not have asked you for your opinion.

(You tried to ignore the gnawing guilt you felt that maybe you had been too harsh.)

But still, was it worth being this upset about? He hadn't replied to any of your messages. His phone was going straight to voicemail, and to top it off, even Atsumu hadn't heard from him. The blond twin had told you to just give him some space, and that he was ‘going through it’. But you scoffed. What exactly was he going through? All this over a controversial menu item? You didn't know Osamu could be so unreasonable over something so stupid.

Which is why you were standing at his door now, knocking for the last ten fucking minutes, while he didn't even bother to respond or open up. Your knocking had now progressed to vicious pounding, and you didn't give a shit if the neighbours heard. You were pissed. Osamu was being a baby and not communicating with you and you would make him talk if it was the last thing you did.

“Open this fucking door, Osamu!” You shouted for the tenth time.

“Go away!” Finally. Now that Osamu had gotten tired of your incessant pounding, he had finally responded. Triumph coarsed through you.

“I knew you were in there!” One more smack on the wood. “Open up. Now!”

“I'm tellin’ ya to go away.” His voice sounded strained. Your eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“What's up with you?”

There was some shuffling, and then a pained groan. Your muscles stiffened in alarm.

“Samu?” You could feel your anger drain away, replaced by worry. “Are you okay? Open the door!”

“Just go away. Everythin’ is fine. I'm not mad at ya. I just need ya to…. get away.”

You couldn't ignore the pain in his voice anymore. You tried the doorknob again to no avail. “Please let me in. I'm getting worried.”

Silence again. You leaned against the door, your panic only building. “Samu, please.”

Your anger was non-existent now. It didn't matter to you whatever stupid fight you two had gotten into. Your paranoid mind was racing and all you could think about was a million different ways that Osamu might be hurt. If anything happened to him…

Your heart imperceptibly broke.

You had known Osamu since high school, when him and his brother would melt your brain with their unnecessary fighting and competition. He was young and naive then, with that godawful gray hair that he thankfully abandoned after high school, and an attitude so fiery it left most other people in the dust. You couldn't understand why you were so attracted to him at first glance, but then he presented as an Alpha mere months after you first met, and your attraction to him became quite clear.

More than anything else, Osamu was your close friend. He understood you in a way his twin didn't, and you liked to think you were a good friend to him too. You kept your feelings for him pretty tightly wrapped up in your heart, afraid that an Alpha like him wouldn't want you. He was desired widely by many, many omegas. And he had always turned them down. If all those prime omegas weren't good enough for him, you didn't stand a chance.

So you lived with him as your friend, because you would rather have that than nothing at all.

You knocked on the door again, more softly this time, knowing he was right on the other side. “Samu, please let me in. Let me see.”

There was a thunk. You assumed Osamu had leaned his forehead against the door. “Omega…”

It clicked in you, like gears fitting into place. Your heart raced. You shuffled closer to the door until there was no more space left. You sniffed carefully.

There was his scent, heady and musky, sandalwood and something you had come to associate only with Osamu. A scent you had loved for so long it made you want to buckle to your knees. It was strong, heavier than any time you had smelled it before. It made your eyes cross, your breath pause. Something in your core stirred.

“Your rut?” You mumbled. You knew he heard you.

Osamu groaned low in response. Your thighs clenched.

Over the years, you observed that Osamu's ruts were rare. Maybe once every three months. He would always disappear a few days beforehand, and didn't reappear until it was well over and done. Atsumu said that since his ruts were so spaced out, they would always hit really hard. So you tended to leave him alone until he reached out first, talking normally and as if nothing had happened, picking up where he left off.

In your anger and with your fight fresh in your mind, you didn't realize that Osamu had likely gone off the grid because of his rut, and not because he was ignoring you. Now you were standing here, mere inches from an Alpha in full rut, with your own core tightening and something wet slowly dripping down the crease of your thigh. Your inhibition was slowly dissipating the more you frantically tried to breathe his faint scent. Your omega purred and whined.

“I could help.” You dared say. “I could help you, Alpha.”

Another groan, low and desperate, and you felt like it was rattling through your very soul. You bit your lip hard, hand twitching to move between your thighs, but you remained frozen. Osamu didn't move away from the door. His pants grew louder, and then he whined.

“Are you sure?” His muffled voice came, almost broken with desire. He wanted- needed- you to say yes. You nodded vigorously even if he couldn't see you.

“Yes!”

Some thudding, clicking, and then he pulled open the door. Your breath caught at the sight of him.

He was gloriously shirtless, and his loose sweatpants were doing nothing to hide his problem either. His erection was obvious, straining and standing against the struggling material of his pants. It would look almost comical if you weren't horny out of your fucking mind right now. His bare torso shone with a thin layer of sweat. You bit your lip so hard you were sure you drew blood.

“Holy fuck, you smell good.” Osamu's nose, more sensitive with his rut, twitched. His eyelids fluttered, and he took in a deep breath. You stared at him some more, wondering if you were dreaming.

“What are ya standin’ there for? C’mere, Omega.”

He tugged on your arm, until your body was making contact with his. Your hands rested on his chest, and you could feel how rapidly his heart was beating. He leaned down until his face was mere inches from yours. His breath hit your lips, made them tingle. Your core clenched painfully. His scent got stronger.

“Ya sure ya want this?”

You didn’t even have the strength to nod, feeling lightheaded. You only tilted your face up until your lips brushed his. “Please.”

A breathy curse, and then he was kissing you. His arms wrapped tight around your back, like he was scared you would disappear, one hand gripping possessively over your hip. You suspected it would leave a bruise.

You wanted it to leave a bruise.

He left you breathless when your lips parted. He tugged you in further and shut the door with a loud bang, before pushing you back against it. The manhandling turned you on to no end, the thought that you were someone Osamu was about to use to satisfy himself. Your already aroused mind went wild at the notion and you arched into him when he crowded you against the door, lips meeting in a frenzy. He bit and licked your mouth raw, invading your mouth like he couldn’t bear to be apart from you. You dug your nails into his biceps, reveling in the feeling of him, of finally having him the way you wanted. Your panties were soaked through by now. Your inner thighs held the signs of your desire.

His lips traveled down your neck next, licking and biting, inhaling and exhaling as he scented you. His cock pressed into your hip and you let him satisfy his need to leave his mark on you, basking in his scent that mixed with yours and how he laid his claim on you, albeit temporarily. His hands gripped hard at your sides, pushing your shirt up to run over bare skin.

“Wanted this so bad.” He rasped, biting dangerously close to your scent gland, you leaned into the sting. “Every rut. Ya know how many times I’ve jerked off to ya?”

His accent was thick, his words slurred. You were sure he was completely gone by this point. You gripped his hair hard.

“Wanted you too, Alpha.” You whimpered back. “Touch me, god, please.”

Osamu lifted you up then, two strong hands grabbing your asscheeks and carrying you across the room to where his couch was located. You wrapped your arms around his neck, taking the opportunity to lap and nip at his neck, scenting him back. Your drenched walls fluttered around nothing, crying and weeping for a nice, thick knot to fill you up.

You had a suspicion you wouldn’t have to wait long.

When Osamu dropped you on the couch, his hands immediately tugged on your clothes, pulling off your jeans and panties in one go. The fabric clung to you with how wet it was, and the air was cool on your burning skin. You used the moment to pull off your top until you were bare before him. Osamu kissed your calf, traveling up quickly with a few kisses laid on your skin. Your thigh, your stomach, the valley of your breasts, your jaw. He had tugged his sweats down already, and you felt something hard poke at your dripping entrance.

“Can’t wait, baby.” His voice trembled. “Need ya now. Need to knot ya so bad I’m gonna explode.”

And then he was sliding into your slicked up but unprepped pussy, carving his way through your spasming walls until a sharp pain went through you. You gasped at the glorious stretch, at your walls recognising an Alpha cock and opening up to accommodate him. Your wetness ran down your ass, likely soiling Osamu’s couch but you doubted he cared. He was cursing and whining in your ear, spine bending forward at the relief of finally sinking into a wet, ready cunt. His face was flushed a deep red, sweat building on his forehead. He sank into you to the base, your toes tingling with the sensation of being so full.

“Hold on, omega.” His last words. They almost sounded like a threat. Your breath caught.

Then he was gripping your hips and holding you down, before fucking into you hard and fast. You gasped at the sudden pace, legs pushed even further open as his cock repeatedly bullied itself into you. Your jaw went slack at the sensation, how he hit you so deep, sloppy noises filling the air along with your cries and his moans. His skin slapped hard against yours, leaving the inside of your thighs red and tender. His cock hit every spot just right. You felt your toes curl.

Osamu watched your reactions, nearly delirious himself, barely holding on by a thread.

“Feel good?”

You nodded frantically, fingernails scratching over his shoulders and arms. Osamu leaned down on his elbows, tongue poking out to lick at your lips every now and then.

“Tell me how good it feels. Tell me.”

“I-” You gasped and jolted with the force of his thrusts. Tears built up in your eyes and spilled down the sides of your face. “Can’t- can’t talk.”

“Yes you can.” His hand wound into the hair at the back of your head, tugging hard until you arched into him. “Say it. Say ya love my cock.”

“Love your cock.” You managed to wail, clamping down hard on him. He cursed and leaned down further, pace not even faltering in the slightest. His lips sealed themselves against the skin of your neck and he sucked hard.

“Tell me how bad ya want my knot.”

“Want it so bad.” You parroted, losing every coherent thought and just going along with what he was saying. Osamu continued to pound into you like he wasn’t even talking, like he wasn’t rearranging your guts or turning your legs to jelly. Like the base of his cock wasn’t rapidly swelling and catching on the rim of your hole.

Osamu pushed himself deep into you before stilling completely, and you nearly weeped in frustration.

“Tell me why ya deserve my knot.” He gritted, eyes meeting yours. Little golden flecks shown in his irises, and his incisors elongated below his bottom lip. He was deep, deep in the clutches of his rut. Combined with his messed up hair and flushed cheeks, he looked wild. Uninhibited. Dangerous. Your pleasure hit its very peak, teetering just over the edge, begging for that last push. You sobbed.

“Wanted you for so long.” You gasped and cried, tears pouring from your cheeks. “Wanted you to fuck me and knot me and give me your cum. Please, Alpha, please. I’ll be so good for you.”

Osamu groaned. Something in his eyes softened. He hooked a hand under your left knee and tugged it up, folding it against your torso. His cock pulled out before pushing back in, slowly picking up his pace again. You moaned loud, feeling your pit tighten up again.

“Why don’t ya cum fer me nice and hard, baby? Get me wet with your juice and then I’ll fill you up. Promise. I’ll shove this fat knot into your tiny little cunt. Just cum fer me, little omega.”

And you did. You arched into him, eyes rolling and arms seizing as you came harder than you ever had in your life. Electricity zipped through you and all air was punched out of your lungs until you felt that your very soul was leaving your body. You didn’t even register when Osamu groaned and stuttered in his pace, or when his knot swelled until it was bullied into your thoroughly fucked out and sore pussy. White hot cum filled your insides as he locked into you, hips flush against your own.

Strong arms wrapped around your waist as Osamu’s comforting weight settled on you. He licked and lapped at your neck softly, breathing into you until you were nothing but his scent, his touches, his marks. You panted and tried to catch your breath, legs trembling with aftershocks of the event. You could barely lift your arms to run over his bare back, but you managed. Osamu hummed at your soft touch.

All was silent beneath you two as the fog of his rut lifted. You could feel him slowly cool down, get pliant against you. You could almost sense his apprehension.

“Do ya regret it?”

You smiled slightly, staring up at the ceiling. “I meant it, Samu. I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You could feel his own smile against your neck, his embrace around you tightening. “Me too.”

Your skin buzzed with warmth. While Osamu breathed softly against your neck, you let yourself drift into a quiet sleep.

[rubywonu]

𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗱

“i've got some shit i should mention, pretend my ego is dying, ask me if i love attention, and I'll say no, but i'm lying”

summary: in which seungcheol missed on countless important event with you and you decided it was time for confrontation.

pairing: choi seungcheol x fem!reader

genre: angst to fluff, not mentioned but established idol!au

warnings: arguments, swear words.

w/c: 2.7k

nia’s notes: i don’t know what is just wrote. song is loved by b.i

it was your birthday and the person you wanted to celebrate it with was nowhere to be found. it was a small get-together, consisting of a few of your friends and your boyfriend, who was not there. 

you checked your messages and you were a bit let down when the message wasn't seen. it was like seungcheol was ghosting you. for the past few days, your boyfriend was always at his studio. seungcheol would disappear way before you would wake up and return hours past midnight. for some time, you wondered if he was even coming home. 

for the whole party, you were glued to your phone hoping cheol messaged you back or saw your message, but each time you were disappointed. 

you tried to stay alive and cheerful for your party but it was hard to do so. by the time your friends left, you were angry and sad. each year you and seungcheol would stay up till midnight and write letters to each other for your birthday. it was a stupid tradition but it kept your love alive and this year, you were questioning if it would happen. 

you sat down on the couch, after bidding your friends goodbye and you checked your phone, again. you let out a long sigh as you were let down, once again. it was funny to you when you remembered all the other times you were disappointed by your boyfriend. 

for the past few weeks, you and seungcheol were supposed to go on dates, and each time, cheol canceled last minute with the same excuse, i'm stuck in the studio, sorry. 

this time you were sure you weren't going to let it happen again. so with a bold choice in your mind, you changed your clothes, to one of cheol's sweatshirts and a sweatpant from your closet. you walked over to the counter, trying to find your car keys. you smacked your head slightly when you realized that your car was at the repair shop. it looked like you had to walk to the building, it wasn't far so you had no problem with it. 

so you locked the door to your apartment and walked out of your house, slightly regretting not wearing a jacket. the wind was chilly and it burned when it touched your face. you winced as you wrapped your hands around you, you tried to speed walk to the building when you saw the storm clouds coming over in your direction. 

in a matter of a few minutes, you reach the company and you let your shoulders relax at the heat inside. you smiled at the receptionist when you walked over to the elevator. 

you pressed the floor button and waited to arrive. the ding snapped out out of your thoughts and made your way to the studio room where your boyfriend would be.  

you opened the door a little bit, in hopes of surprising seungcheol. "cheol." you called out and the man in front of you snapped his head to meet you. you expected him to be happy maybe even a little glad, but not in a million years did you expect seungcheol to be angry. 

"what are you doing here?" seungcheol stood up from his seat. he looked stressed out and it worried you. you walked inside and closed the door behind you. it the light, you were able to look at him more clearly and you were concerned. the lack of sleep was evident on his face, dark circles were present under his eyes. 

"well, i got worried when you didn't show up at home, so i decided to stop by." you smiled trying to relax your boyfriend, it was clear to say you did quite the opposite. 

"you don't have to come here, go home, it'll take me a few more hours." you were shocked at his words. 

"what do you mean a few more hours? cheol what about our tradition?" you asked feeling heartbroken at the behaviour your boyfriend was showing you. 

"i don't have time for that, yn. my work is more important." if seungcheol was awake, he was sure he wouldn't say the things he was about to.  

you were taken aback at his cold tone and even more when cheol sat down at this desk, continuing his work. "what are you saying? do you mean it?" 

"yes. yes, i mean it, now get out." the harsh words that came out of seungcheol's mouth felt like a knife pushing through your heart. 

"seungcheol, you need sleep and food, come on let's go home." you walked over to your boyfriend, and gently put your hand on his arm. that seemed to piss him off more. 

"i need to complete this, yn. either leave by yourself or i'll do it." seungcheol was sleepy, hungry, and drained. he wasn't in his right mind and each word he said proved exactly that. 

"what? do you realize what you're saying?" you were angry, you were pissed at the way he was speaking towards you. 

"yn, i don't have time for you or your petty fights, just leave." seungcheol rubbed his hands over his face while he pleaded with you. 

you didn't know when but a lone tear cascaded down your eye. you were hurt beyond explanation. "what?" each time seungcheol said a word, your heart cracked and bled in despair. 

"leave, yn!" you flinched at the intensity of his voice and moved back. "god, you're so needy, it's annoying." cheol mumbled as he went back to his laptop. you walked away from him and towards the door, trying to contain your tears. you couldn't believe that the mouth that whispered praises and confessions was leaving you in pain, for the first time choi seungcheol made you cry, no he made you sob. 

you slammed the door behind you and quickly walked outside the building, in the elevator you could feel yourself breaking down, you put your hand on your mouth, trying to soften your sobs, but it didn't work. without looking back, you excited the building, regretting that decision when you felt the big droplets of water fall on you, it was raining. 

you needed shelter but there was no way you were going back into the building, especially after what had just happened. so you put your head down and slowly made your way back to your house, being extremely careful to not slip at any given moment. 

before you stormed out of the hybe building, someone saw you leave and was very concerned about your condition. it was obvious for him to realize the culprit of this incident. so he walked over to the elevator, making his way over to seungcheol's studio. 

he rushed over and opened the door, confusion visible on his face. "seungcheol." the mentioned man turned around and he became more annoyed. sure, seungcheol regretted what he said to you, but working on a time crunch can do that to people, it didn't look like his fault. "why did yn leave, crying, no seungcheol, she was sobbing, why?" 

"i do not want to deal with your bullshit as well, jeonghan just leave." seungcheol regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, even more, when he saw the anger displayed on jeonghan's face. 

jeonghan was like a brother to you, and the both of you became extremely close when you and seungcheol started dating, you became closer with han. 

"shut up and listen to me." jeonghan started. "what did you do for yn, one of the happiest people on the face of this planet, sob while leaving the building. and before you ask me questions like how i know, or something stupid like that just remember that you promised to not make her cry." 

jeonghan didn't know what he was saying but he kept on going before falling on the couch in exhaustion. on the other hand, seungcheol remained silent. he didn't realize the gravity of the situation until jeonghan screamed at him. 

each word came back to haunt him, he could visualize the perfect smile on your beautiful fade into a gradient of hurt and sadness. seungcheol sat there wanting to take back everything he said that hurt you in any form but that wasn't possible. seungcheol had hurt you beyond description and oh boy, did he feel disappointment rush through his blood. 

it didn't prepare him for what he was about to hear though. "gosh, i do hope yn reached home safe, it's pouring real bad." he heard jeonghan mutter and seungcheol felt his heart drop. his eyes were wide and his stance was ready to sprint but he couldn't move. "what?" 

"it's raining outside, i hope yn can see anything from the car." once again, seungcheol felt his world stop spinning. 

"yn's car is at the repair shop." seungcheol said slowly as the realization hit him. he saw jeonghan turn to him and ask him to repeat himself. "yn doesn't have her car." 

this was the last straw, before completing his sentence, seungcheol ran out of the room, and completely ignored jeonghan's call behind him to grab a jacket. but he didn't care, all he cared about was you and he hurt you.

seungcheol spammed the elevator call button, furiously. he was angry at himself, angry at the world, he was angry at everything and everyone but you. 

"fuck!" seungcheol screamed and rushed over to the stairs. he started to rapidly climb down the stairs. he was on the higher floors but he did not care at all.

once he reached the base of the stairs, he slammed open the door and ran out of the building, not minding the glances he received while doing so. 

the rain looked worse than jeonghan made it seem, big droplets were clouding his vision but he moved on. seungcheol slowly started to walk into the rain while scouting all his sides in hopes of finding you. 

he saw a small figure pushing through the cold rain and he immediately knew it was you by the familiar sweatshirt. and then seungcheol ran, he ran for his life. he didn't care about the slipperiness of the ground and he didn't care when the rain got harder, the only thing he cared for you so he ran in search of your warm body. 

he was right behind you now, and he grabbed your arm, regretting it as soon as he saw you flinch at the touch. "yn, it's me." seungcheol spoke with a soft voice and he begged the gods for you to be alright with his presence, but it looked like his prayers were skipped. 

you pulled your hand away and continued to walk away, leaving seungcheol's heart to shatter. "get away from me." 

"yn, listen to me, please." seungcheol didn't give up just yet, he ran in front of you and held you by your shoulders, trying to be as gentle as possible. "let's just go back to the studio, i promise we'll talk there." 

"you don't care about me, did you forget about it already?" you moved away from your boyfriend and walked away from him, again. 

"what do you mean?" you turned around at seungcheol's ridiculous statement and scoffed, anger seeping into your face. 

"'what do you mean?' are you crazy choi seungcheol." cheol flinched at you calling him his full name, ever since the both of you started dating, he had never heard his name come out of your mouth like that, and boy did it hurt. 

"first of all, you gave up on our tradition, you know how much it means to me but you left that. then, you disregarded me, seungcheol. i was worried about you and what did you do? you screamed at me, telling me to leave you alone and as if that's not bad enough you proceeded to call me clingy and needy, you said you were annoyed by my actions. since when did my care and love for you turn annoying? i was looking out for you, but you took my heart and broke it." 

seungcheol didn't realize how much he messed up until he heard your feelings and regret swarmed his whole body. 

"and you did it all on what was supposed to be one of the happiest days of my life, my birthday." your voice cracked and tears struck down your face. 

realization came sticking to cheol as he stood there in shock. he forgot about it because of his hard schedule, he forgot your birthday. you turned around, trying you hide your crying face. 

behind you, seungcheol pondered at his bad decisions. he hated himself, he hated the way he made you feel, and he hated to be the reason for your sadness. 

for the past month, you and seungcheol had talked about all the things the both of you wanted to do for your birthday and they were in contrast to what was actually happening. what was supposed to be a day filled with loving you turned into a day where your relationship was in danger. 

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry." seungcheol's soft voice behind you only made you cry harder. you turned around, and the sight left you speechless. 

seungcheol was on his knees, he was crying. "i'm so sorry, yn." the rain and your boyfriend's harsh sobs were the only things you could hear, apart from your own cries. 

no matter how angry you were with seungcheol, it pained for you to see a man so strong break down in tears while on his knees. you joined him on the floor, and the both of you cried while holding each other in the rain, gaining warmth from the other. 

"im so sorry, im so sorry for everything i did. im so sorry for the way i spoke to you, you didn't deserve it. you were just trying to be a good girlfriend but i screamed at you, i'm so sorry. please forgive me, don't leave me, yn, please." 

seungcheol's ramble made you cry harder, you pulled away from him and grabbed his face, making him look at you. "i'm not going to leave you, don't worry." you go up and pulled seungcheol up as well. "let's go home and talk there." 

the both of you walked hand in hand in silence, wiping the tears on the way, the rain washing away your tears and replacing them with a cloud of sadness. when you reached home, without talking you and seungcheol walked into separate bathrooms to clean up. it was obvious that both of you wanted to talk about it but the wound was too fresh. 

you finished your shower and dried your hair, you were currently walking to the guest bedroom where seungcheol was cleaning up. you opened the door and seungcheol was on the bed, the room was dark, and he was drying his hair. you heard a sniffle and it damaged you. 

you made your way in front of your seungcheol grabbed the towel without saying anything and proceeded to rub his hair. as you did this, seungcheol's tears only started to come out faster. 

you dropped the towel on the bed and placed your hand on his face, seungcheol leaning into it. you swiped your finger under his eyes and removed his tears. the action only seemed to make him cry more. 

"i'm so sorry." you pulled him into a hug, and seungcheol immediately responded by placing his hands around your waist and pulling you in as close as possible. 

"it's okay baby, i didn't like it at all but i understand where it came from, so i forgive you. just promise not to do that again." seungcheol's eyes snapped open no light up at your words. 

"thank you, i promise to never make you cry ever again. i'll cancel all my plans for the next week, it'll be you and me, that's it." seungcheol stood up and held your waist, your hands immediately going to his neck. you smiled at his enthusiasm and it was then you realized he was sincere. the both of you kissed, leaving the troubles of the day to be washed away by the rain, and you and seungcheol emerged like a rainbow during the pain. 

and from that day onwards, seungcheol never broke his promises, he never let you cry and most of all, seungcheol never forgot to make you feel loved. 

taglist: @xomingyu . @pixieskie . @bangchansbae . @weird-bookworm .

[steveshairychest]

Time travel au where Steve is the last one to go through the gate in Eddie's trailer, except when he comes out, he's not in his Hawkins anymore. Instead of being greeted by the sight of his friends safe and sound and Wayne's mug collection, he's standing in some random guys trailer.

He gets shoved out the front door and into the strange new world that is undoubtedly Hawkins, but not the Hawkins he remembers.

Everything feels wrong. The people look strange in their weird clothes and a lady across the park screams into a flat rectangle in her hand. The trailers look the same but there's something about them that's definitely wrong. Some guy blows smoke in his face while walking past and instead of the gross smell of cigarette he was expecting, it smells sweet, almost like strawberries. He's so fucking confused. He knows he's causing a scene by walking around gaping at everything, but what else is he supposed to do? Steal a car and drive off? He's never seen cars like this in his entire life!! Do they even work the same way?!

Maybe he has a concussion. Maybe this is his version of a vecna hallucination.

And then things only get more confusing when a little girl runs over to him and beams up at Steve like they've been best friends forever. "Hi, Mr Harrington! Why are you here?" She can't be older than 9.

Why does this little girl know him? He stares at her and his confusion must show because she tilts her head and frowns. "Are you okay, Mr Harrington?"

She keeps calling him Mr Harrington, is he a teacher here? Oh god, does that mean there's another version of himself running around here?! Wherever here is.

"I'm... fine. I'm just a little lost." He walks away before he scares the poor girl with his rising hysterics. Steve knows these roads like the back of his hand, he's driven them his entire life, but he takes a million wrong turns because there's suddenly so many new streets he's never even heard of. Where there should be a huge clearing, there is now a building so high Steve swears it touches the sky and the tree him and Robin used to have picnics under is now gone and replaced with a parking lot filled with more weird cars.

"What the fuck? What the fuck?!" Steve finally makes it to where his house should be and there's... nothing. It's just a block of land for sale. It tips him over the edge. He can't remember the last time he cried but right now he is balling and hiccuping as he stumbled down the street he grew up on. But it's wrong. It's all so wrong. People drive past and give him weird looks, a lady even stops jogging and takes out the tiny earplugs that play music so loud Steve can hear it, and asks if he's OK. "No, I'm not. This isn't real. This isn't real!"

It has to be vecna. He's got him. That's why he's stuck in this nightmare. "You have to play music! Give me your plug things! Make them play anything! Get me out of here." The woman refuses and does nothing but stand there in shock as Steve sinks down to the sidewalk and starts singing Everybody Wants to Rule The World as loud as he can.

"I'm calling 911. You need help." Steve doesn't hear her. He's singing so loud people are starting to come out of their houses to see what's going on but that doesn't matter to him. This isn't real. Vecna has him and he needs to get out.

When the ambulance pulls up, Steve's run out of tears. He's cried himself dry and he's resigned to the fact that any minute now, Vecna is going to snap his arms and legs. "I'm ready." He says quietly to no one but himself. He'd rather it be him than any of his friends. He knows they are probably watching him and trying to bring him back but it's too late. He can't hear the music they're playing.

"Steve?" A familiar voice drags him out of his own head, but it can't be real. He heard that voice take its final breath just mere minutes ago, he can still feel his drying blood under his fingernails. Steve lifts his head and there he is, it's Eddie, no doubt about it. His long hair is tied up in a bun and his eyes are sparkling with worry as he crouches down in front of Steve. It's then that Steve realises Eddie is in full paramedic gear and he's pulling all sorts of things out of a bag to check on Steve.

"Eddie, you're alive." He whispers in disbelief as Eddie checks him for any head injuries. "Where are we? How do we leave?"

Eddie pulls back and there's panic behind his eyes as he slowly helps Steve to his feet and gestures to his partner to grab the stretcher. "Steve, love, I need you to tell me what happened. Why aren't you at work?"

At work? What is Eddie going on about? And did he just call Steve love?!!

"Eddie, this isn't real. I need to leave. I can't stay here with you." He says it slowly so that Eddie understands. He may be some figment of Steve's weird dream imagination and he doesn't want to freak the poor guy out by telling him he's actually dead.

Eddie breathes in and out, his hands a little shaky as he helps Steve onto the ambulance stretcher. His partner helps get Steve set up in the back of the ambulance before they're driving off. Eddie reaches out and holds Steve's hand gently, the gesture surprising but not unwelcome. "Steve, baby, this is very much real life. You're in Hawkins. It's March 21st, 2023. Your name is Steve Harrington, remember?"

"Wait, what?!" Steve tries to sit up but Eddie gently pushes him back down. They hit a bump in the road and Eddie swears softly under his breath about his partner's driving. "It's not 1986?!" He's panicking. He can feel his heart rate spike and his breathing starts to quicken. Eddie tells him to stay calm and just breathe in and out but Steve can't hear him.

Maybe this really isn't Vecna. He'd be dead by now if Vecna had him and Eddie's touch feels too real to be a dream.

Before he knows it, his vision is going spotty and then he's out; the panic and absolute absurdity of it all finally getting to him.

"You'll be okay, Stevie."

Except this isn't the Steve Eddie knows and loves. His Steve, his darling husband, is currently having a dilemma of his own back in 1986.

[stop-talking]

You're his ex, but he's desperate for a babysitter. (pt. 4)

Mike Schmidt x fem reader

2.4k words + 300 word epilogue

Tags: 18+, mike x fem reader, no use of y/n, exes, enemies to lovers, slowburn? sassy mike, sassy reader, pet names, banter, angst, fluff, comfort, happy ending.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

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Mike sits at his kitchen table, trying not to nod off into his cereal. Today is a quiet day. A lazy day. His one day off.

Except, not really. There's always work to be done. He just has to figure out what today's work would be. He's caught up on laundry and dishes, the house isn't too much of a mess... Hm. Maybe he should finally fix the dripping pipe in the bathroom. Or the living room window that's been stuck for years. Or one of the million other things wrong with his house.

He sighs and goes to take a bite of his cereal, only to realize he forgot the milk. Damn it. When he opens the fridge, he stands face to face with a little blue dolphin stuffed animal. Right... Abby's still testing him. He leaves it alone, she'll see it when she gets home from school and assume her "spell" still works. Pfft.

Mike nearly drops the milk mid-pour when he hears the phone ring.

*click.*

"Hello?" He mumbles groggily, a little annoyed to have his morning brooding interrupted.

"Hey, Mike? You free at all today?"

He immediately perks up at the sound of your voice. It's been two days since he last saw you, and he honestly wasn't sure if you'd ever speak to him again.

"Yeah, uh... It's my day off, actually."

"Good. I'm using that 2nd favor."

Mike's heart races. If this favor is going to be anything like the last one, he was definitely up for it.

"Oh? Missing me already, sweetheart?"

"As if. I need you to build me a shelf."

A shelf? Well, that was unexpected. Hm. Better than nothing.

"What, like build it from scratch? Are you expecting me to buy the boards, or-"

"No. I have all the pieces. It just needs to be assembled."

"You can't assemble a shelf?" Mike scoffs, but secretly he's pleased. Sounds like you just want an excuse to have him over.

"Mike. You know I'm no good with tools."

No, he didn't know that actually. Liar. You definitely just wanted to see him again. God, he felt giddy.

"Mhm. Sure."

"Just get your ass over here, Schmidt."

"Woah, what's with the attitude, Princess? I'm here to help." He can't help but let some smugness seep into his tone. Okay, more than some. He's a cocky bastard and he knows it.

"I've been working on the damn thing all morning. Almost three hours now. Not in the mood, jackass."

Shit. You sounded sincere. And really pissed off. Then again, what kind of a shelf took three hours to assemble? The fuck was it? A jigsaw puzzle?

"Alright, alright. I'll be over soon. See ya."

Mike slumps against the counter as you grumble something incoherent and slam the phone down. Damn, what is he getting himself into this time?

Only one way to find out.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

When Mike finally arrives at your apartment half an hour later, he feels a bit silly. He put on a nice shirt and trousers to come see you, and here you are in sweats and a baggy t-shirt. Figures.

"Call for a handyman?" He greets you with a teasing smile, holding up his old rusted toolbox as he makes his way inside.

"Pfft. Someone's happy to see me."

Mike can't really say anything to that, so he doesn't try. He is happy to see you, even if you have attitude problems and dress like a bum.

"So, I bought the damn thing from a friend-of-a-friend, who got it at a garage sale. I swear, it has to be missing some parts or something, because-"

He nods as you rattle on and lead him to your bedroom, but he's only half-listening. He looks around your apartment, taking it all in. It's been at least six months since he last came over, probably longer. It doesn't look to have changed much. He likes your apartment. It's cozy.

"Anyways... can you fix it?"

Mike pauses in the doorway of your bedroom as you give him a sheepish smile and gesture to something in the corner.

Holy hell. Is that supposed to be a shelf? Mike can't help but think that the hideous agglomeration of boards and screws would only be good as a fire-starter. It looks more like a pile than a shelf.

"Uhh..." He bites his cheek, desperately trying not to burst into a fit of laughter. Maybe you really weren't lying about the whole "no good with tools" thing.

He finally loses it when you groan and flop down on the bed, hiding your face in a pillow.

"Ughh... Laugh at me, whatever. Just fix it."

"Jesus Christ. This has to be the sorriest excuse for a shelf I've ever seen. Sure you don't want me to haul it to the junkyard instead?" He snorts, sitting down on the edge of your bed and looking with disdain at the half-assedly assembled shelf.

Mike immediately shuts his mouth when you glare at him. Oops, right, you're in a bad mood.

"I mean, uh... you tried?" He laughs, shaking his head in amusement. He still can't believe you're actually this inept when it comes to assembly.

"Get to work, Schmidt."

Mike yelps as you kick him off the bed, but doesn't bother retaliating. He just grabs his toolbox and sits on the floor, examining the so-called "shelf".

"Well, the first step is going to be un-doing everything you did."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

You lie on your stomach in bed, chin propped up on your hands as you kick your feet in the air and ponder the sight before you. Mike's back is turned to you as he quietly works away taking apart the monstrosity you assembled.

"How long is this gonna take?"

"Well, If it wasn't so..." He trails off, glancing at you and choosing his words more carefully.

"...sturdy, it'd be a lot easier to take apart."

"Hm? What do you mean?"

He gives you an incredulous look and gestures to a series of nails in a corner where two boards meet. It does look pretty ridiculous, the sharp ends pointing out the other side. Not your best work.

"You put nails in it, sweetheart." He scoffs.

"How else was I supposed to keep it together?" You give him your best pout, and gloat internally when he has to turn away. He's absolutely infatuated with you. Even the back of his neck is pink.

"It comes with screws for a reason, ya know."

"There's a difference?"

He turns and gives you a flat look, and you laugh. Damn. You can play dumb with him, but maybe not that dumb. Noted.

Still, it's a little boring just laying there and watching him grumble and pull nails from wood. You can't really mess with him too much either, because you really do what him to fix the stupid shelf.

"You want something to drink?" You finally break the silence, under the guise of trying to be a good hostess.

"Pfft. Need some whiskey to deal with this bullshit." He snorts, pulling yet another nail free. He'd almost gotten one board off. One. This was gonna take a while.

"I was thinking more along the lines of soda or tea."

"Jack and Coke, then?"

"Mike. It's hardly past noon."

"So?" He scoffs. "For me, this is like... evening, or something. I dunno. Sleep schedule's fucked with this new job."

That answer makes you pause.

"What is it you do now, anyway?"

He groans, finally prying one of the boards free of the clusterfuck.

"Night guard. Told you already, remember?" He tries to shrug the question off, but you're nosy.

"Where?"

"Uhh... Freddy Fazbear's Pizza..."

"Speak up."

"Ugh. It's this stupid rundown hellhole pizzeria. Honestly dunno why anyone would wanna break in there anyways. It's a dump."

"What kind of a pizzeria needs a night guard? Or any guard?"

"The haunted kind."

You decide not to ask about that, simply shaking your head as you walk to the door. He's truly a loon. A loveable loon, unfortunately.

"Just tell me what you want to drink, Mikey, or I'm getting you water."

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

Mike sits on the floor of your bedroom sipping his glass of water and wondering how he got here. If you'd told him a week ago he'd be building his witch of an ex-girlfriend a shelf, he would've gagged. Now...? Well, he just wants to go join you on that bed.

"So are you really just gonna sit there and look pretty while I do all the work?"

"Aww, you think I'm pretty, Mikey? You smile, lying on the bed with your feet kicking in the air, giving him a look of pure adoration. It wasn't hard to do.

"Pretty annoying, yeah." He turns away with a scoff, returning to his work. If only he could get this stupid nail untangled from the other two... why would anyone use this many nails?

"You know, I think I liked you better gagged."

"Oh I know, sweetheart. I could see it in those evil eyes of yours." He can't help but smirk a bit at the comment, though. Sometimes he liked himself better gagged, too. He shakes the thought away and keeps working.

"Why can't you just get on hands and knees and beg me to take you back already?" You huff dramatically and roll over onto your back, letting your head fall over the edge of the bed. He looks silly from this angle. Upside-down.

That question nearly makes Mike drop his tools. Were you serious?

"Why? So you can laugh me off again?"

Ouch. It was true you'd turned him down the last time he'd tried it, but that was six months ago.

"Maybe if you used those big brown puppy eyes of yours on me."

That only earns you a grunt, so you verbally prod him again.

"Besides, why can't I do both? Laugh at you, then take you back? Sounds fun."

"Pfft. Fun? To toy with me? You'd probably break up with me all over again just for shits and giggles." He responds bitterly, still refusing to turn around.

"Mikey. Look at me." You roll back over onto your stomach and rest your chin in your hands as he slowly meets your gaze.

"I didn't break up with you just for shits and giggles. You know that. I'm not letting you sit there and wallow in self-pity."

Mike goes stiff from your words, but your tone is soft, and your eyes even softer. You're still giving him that adoring look. Damn it.

"Well maybe I'd rather wallow in self pity than admit you were right all along."

"You've had six months to wallow. Grow a pair and come kiss me."

He can't say no to that. Not when you look at him that way. He shuffles over, kneeling by the side of your bed. On his knees for you again, damnit.

You kiss him. It's different from the lustful, sloppy kiss you shared last time. This one makes you feel warm. You kiss him again. And again.

Mike really doesn't want this to end, but the knot in his stomach forces him to pull away. He has to ask.

"Why? Why are you doing this, I mean? Do you really want... to take me back?" He sputters, looking down at the floor.

"I'm not completely sure yet." You answer honestly, shifting and lying back on the bed.

Damn. That's not the answer he wanted to hear.

"Are you-"

"Come here."

When you pat the spot next to you in bed, Mike melts. He's a wreck right now, but still wants nothing more than to be with you, in every sense of the word. He silently complies.

"It's not about right and wrong, you know. As much as I love being told I'm right." You give him a soft smile, breaking the silence and placing your hand on top of his as you both lie on your sides.

Damn it. He'd done this with you before, this and so much more. Why was such a small touch turning him to goo?

"What isn't?"

"The breakup. It's about growing as a person. As people. Both of us." You lace your fingers with his, and can't help but laugh as his face reaches a level of pink you've never seen before.

"And what exactly am I supposed to be growing out of?"

"Pfft. I don't know, the emotional unavailability? The way you never made time for me? Constant irritability?" You start to dramatically list off his flaws, using your free hand to count on your fingers.

"Okay, okay. I get it." He huffs, and grabs your hand before you can make fun of him more. Instead, he guides it to his side, pulling you in a little closer.

"And you're miss perfect?"

"No. 'Course not. I have flaws too." You give him a sly smile, and start listing your own "faults".

"Too hot and sexy, too intelligent, too kind, amazing, sweet and caring..."

That's as far as you get before Mike scoots closer, burying his face in your neck and giving you a playful nip.

"Too arrogant." He adds with a laugh, wrapping his arm around you and letting himself melt further into you.

"My arrogance is one of my best qualities, thank you." You reply haughtily, sliding your hand up his back and into his hair.

Mike couldn't speak, even if he could somehow find the right words to say. Everything in this moment felt so right. His arm around you. Your fingers in his hair. He lets out a soft groan instead.

You aren't exactly eager to let go of this moment either, and just hold him for a few minutes. It feels nice to play with his soft brown curls.

"I'll do better. Please." He finally mumbles something to you, not bothering to move his face from where it's buried in the crook of your neck.

"Please what, Mikey?"

"Take me back."

He finally pulls back, just enough to give you a glimpse of those puppy eyes of his. Damn it. How could you even think of saying no?

"Yeah. Okay."

You both lean in for another round of soft passionate kisses, and Mike feels himself relax completely. His stomach unknots and his mind goes numb. For the first time in months, he feels completely safe.

・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・・・・・・○・

"So does this mean you'll babysit for me again?"

"Go finish the shelf, Schmidt."

"Yes, Princess."

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♡ Epilogue ♡

Over the past few weeks, you and Mike had fallen into a sort of rhythm.

He never did end up finding a new babysitter, and besides, you're the only one who could ever get Abby to finish her dinner. You had to graduate her from daily witching lessons to weekly ones, though, convincing her she needed to study for the more advanced spells. Secretly, Mike was just losing track of which objects in his house were supposedly invisible. It was quite amusing to watch.

Mike's favorite part of the day was coming home to you already asleep in his bed, and waking you up with a kiss. He'd then either lie down in bed while you shower, or hop in there with you, depending on how you felt. Either way, he loved the view.

The conflicting schedules made things complicated, but you were able to work around it. Mike slept better with you holding him, and consequentially, was a lot more agreeable. He did his best to make more time for both you and Abby.

He even started to open up to you for once, letting you take on some of his burdens. This man sure had a lot of guilt. You were certain he hadn't yet told you everything, but he told you enough. At least you finally knew what the fucking NEBRASKA poster on the ceiling was for. Now you kind of felt bad for all the times you teased him about it the first time you dated.

As for the damn shelf... well, he finished it. It was still hideous, but it was functional. There were holes in it from the nails, and the wood had even started to splinter in a few spots. You couldn't bring yourself to get rid of it, though. Not after how much work you both put into it. Even if most of Mike's work revolved around un-doing yours.

It definitely wasn't a perfect relationship, not by far. But Mike never promised to be the perfect boyfriend. He just promised to be better.

And he was, bit by bit, every day. Better. ♡

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Author's note:

Thank you all for the love!! This was my first time writing a fanfic of any kind so I'm really happy so many of you enjoyed it. Feels good to bring the story to an end.

Feel free to send me a request, I'd love to write more fics about Mike. Or any other J-hutch character for that matter, Mikey is just my favorite <3

[poeghoul]

hard times iii.

in which they're far too drawn to each other.

word count: 7,852 warnings: mentions of drug usage and abuse, unwanted advances, angst, possessiveness authors note: not proofread. only a few parts left to this series </3 im far too attached to them.

masterlist

part one part two

Y/n made her way out of the diner, the new waiter, Ross, following close behind her. “It’s not too bad, I promise. You’ll get the hang of it soon,” she turned to face him, smiling to try and relieve his anxiety. The poor boy had spilled orange juice all over his black sweater, the thick fabric sticking to his chest, and still slightly damp. “Plus you’ll be taking the night shift and barely anyone comes in.”

He exhaled through his mouth, raising his eyebrows at her, “so that means shit tips, huh?” he joked at her. She pulled her lips into her mouth, hesitant to answer, and when she went to challenge his assumption, he cut her off. “Fuck, really? Shit, I’m fucked,” running a hand through his hair, he shook his head. She pursed her lips at him.

“It’s not awful, I swear. And you’re new, so,” she trailed off, not entirely knowing what to say to the blue eyed boy. “They always start the newbies off at night,” the end of her sentence sounded more like a question, and he just smirked at her and tilted his head to the side. 

“You’re shit at making people feel better, you know that?” he grinned at her, pulling his bottom lip in between his teeth, shaking his head at her. She grinned at him, exhaling a laugh through her nose. “Ya need a ride or anything?”

“Mm, no I have a ride already, thank you though,” she gestured to the man standing next to the black SUV behind her. A ‘shit’ coming from the boy in front of her. “Yeah,” she pursed her lips. Ever since the first night Jax had picked her up, everyone who worked at the diner bombarded her with a million questions anytime the ‘mystery’ man stood in front of the building; how’d you score that, who is he, how do you know him, etc. 

“No offense, but how the fuck are you able to drive that? Or have someone drive you in that,” he stared at her, a befuddled look graced his face. 

She tucked her bottom lip in between her teeth for a second, his gaze switching from her eyes to her lips and back once the flesh was released, “um, a friend of mine kinda owes me a favor and this is how he’s paying me back,” she shrugged, her right arm coming up to rub her left, an anxious habit.

A humorless laugh escaped him, “I will never ask for a favor if this is what you’re expecting in return,” he gestured to the car. “I’ll see you in the morning, y/n,” he patted her shoulder before running his hand down her arm, barely even touching the jacket covered skin, and grazed her hand for a moment longer than he should’ve. She blushed from the action, taking in a sharp breath before nodding and bidding him goodbye. 

They parted ways; Ross walking to a beat up ‘99 Honda Civic hatchback, and y/n to her (Harry’s) personal chauffeur’s car. She sent a smile to Jax before wrapping her arms around his torso, squishing her face into his chest (he was significantly taller than her, but not as tall as Harry). 

“Hey, sweetpea,” he greeted her, she felt the vibrations rumble through his chest. He wrapped his arms around her, a hand coming up to caress the back of her head and a gentle kiss was placed on the crown of her head. “Wanna tell me who that was?” he pulled back to wink at her, she just rolled her eyes unwrapping her arms and crossing them over her chest and he opened the door for her, 

“That was Ross, he’s the new waiter I told you about. Not very good though,” she stepped up into the backseat and sat her bag down on the seat next to her. A few weeks ago, she’d be getting in the backseat hoping Harry would greet her with an apology or an explanation. Now, she’d be surprised to even smell Harry’s lingering cologne. He’s been avoiding her since the last time he came to her apartment. No calls, no texts, no interactions whatsoever. 

Jax laughed, closing the door before running around the back of the car and hopping in the front seat. His eyes met hers in the rearview mirror, “that bad, huh?” Her eyes widened and she nodded, her mouth agape. 

“I’ve never met anyone that uncoordinated, I swear. He’s great with the customers, he really is, he just can’t balance a tray to save his life,” she sighed, “Dan put a lot of faith in me, too, which makes it worse. Like, I can’t just magically make someone a great waiter, especially if this is their first waiting job.”

“That’s rough, sweetpea, I’m sorry.” 

“Is it bad I don’t think he’ll last long?” sympathy laced her tone. 

“Not at all, and from the sounds of it, that seems likely,” he shrugged one shoulder and started the car. Pushing the parking brake down, he shifted into reverse before pulling out of the parking lot and on to the main street leading to her studio. 

“Yeah,” she pulled her lips into her mouth, looking out the window. She had switched to the morning shift, paranoia suffocating her every night making her shifts much harder to get through without choking on her anxiety. And because no one else was willing to take the night shift, they had to hire another waiter. And apparently, for god knows why, they just had to hire one with no experience. And just had to make y/n train him. A form of punishment, she’s sure. “How was your day?” she looked back to him, eyes trained on his side profile. 

“Mm, fine. Uneventful as normal. Just waited around for,” he met her eyes in the rearview, “Mr. Styles,” she looked down at her hands, picking at her over bitten cuticles, dried blood staining her nail beds. “He had another meeting with Mr. Horan,” she nodded slowly. Niall hadn’t even come into the diner. They both had disappeared. 

The drive was short, it always was. Soon enough, she was thanking him, like usual, and running up the stairs to her apartment. Unlocking the door, she could hear the bells she had attached to the door handle on the inside sing loudly. It was annoying, but with where her mind had been the past month, she deemed it necessary. Kicking her shoes off, she plopped on her chair, rolling her neck from side to side trying to alleviate the tension. 

After her third morning shift, she had started to regret asking to be taken off nights, she had no clue what to do in the middle of the afternoon. When she’d get off around ten, she would come home and get ready for bed and watch a show or scroll through tiktok until she’d be half asleep with the phone slipping from her grasp. It was a routine she’d been used to for about eight months, but developing new routines and sticking to them was not her strong suit. 

Getting off this early highlighted how alone she felt. It got dark around 4:30 and winter was creeping in. Her seasonal depression started to settle in, making a home in the cavity of her chest. 

+++

Harry sat across from Niall in his home office, sitting back in his expensive Italian leather chair with his leg crossed over his knee. He rarely ever hosted meetings in his home, never trusting anyone enough to invite them in, but Niall was entirely different. He managed to snake his way into Harry’s life; calling and texting him at all hours of the day, inviting him to attend church with his wife and two daughters or out to play a game of golf. Harry was suspicious about the amount of communication and invitations, but learned that Niall was one of the friendliest men he’d ever come across, and eventually accepted an invitation to a game of golf. That was entirely a bad idea, however, since Niall was practically glued to Harry’s side ever since. 

He had even told him about what happened with y/n, to which Niall prompted him to just come clean to her about how he felt. But of course, it wasn’t that simple. If it was, Harry would’ve done that the moment he saw his sweet girl shed a tear. They never spoke about it after Harry yelled at Niall to stop meddling. 

“Who do you think did it?” Harry asked the blue eyed brunette, referring to a shootout that happened at a Motel 6 twentyseven miles from where they were meeting. Motel 6’s were notorious for drug dealings, though Harry never dared to step foot near one. 

Niall shrugged, “could’ve been anyone, really. But I’m sure it had something to do with Justus. He’s always down there, creepin’ around,” a scowl graced his gentle face. 

Harry brought his fingers to rest on his mouth, tapping a finger on the skin above his lip and raising an eyebrow at the man's theory, “Hm, Justus, aye?” Niall nodded. “ ‘S a possibility, he loves his motels. Who else could’ve been down there, though? Couldn’t have just been a deal gone wrong, he had to have stepped on someone’s toes.”

“Well, it-” Niall cut himself off, perking up as he put the pieces together in his head, “Payne. It was fucking Payne, god that prickhead.”

“Niall, that name holds no significance with me, who is that?” 

“Liam Payne,” Niall answered, leaning forward, “terrible prices, terrible stock, always lacing whatever he’s able to get his hands on to sell for less,” Harry scoffed, shaking his head. “Laced a batch of coke with fent and killed twelve people but of course, being who he is, no one ever ratted him out. Hells gonna swallow him whole rightfully so.”

“Hm,” Harry hummed out, “let’s hope he makes his way up here,” a grin took over his features. Niall stared at him in confusion. 

“Why’s that? Don’t want him anywhere near me, if ‘m bein honest.”

“Well, you won’t have to deal with him. I’ll happily take care of him.” 

Niall gulped, “I don’t know Harry, he’s shitty but,” he paused, trying to think of the right phrasing, “powerful. Very powerful.”

Harry’s grin widened, the skin around his eyes wrinkling, “and I’m not?” he retorted. Niall shook his head, chuckling, knowing where Harry was headed. “Like I said, I’ll happily take care of him.”

“Devious bastard.”

Niall and Harry said their goodbyes, one of Harry’s men walking him out. Harry sat in his office, alone again. He sat back in his chair, messing with the H and S rings on his left hand, his mind wandering to his little lamb, whom he hadn’t seen in far too long. He wondered if she thought of him, wondered if her thumb ever hovered over the call button under his name in her contacts like he had done with her. She consumed his thoughts daily. He’d ask Jax about how her day went and why she switched to the morning shift, to which Jax couldn’t answer truthfully as he didn’t even know. 

Papers scattered the desk in front of him, numbers, dollar signs and crossed out names on nearly every page. The amount of clutter on the desk made him restless, unable to think straight, but he couldn’t bring himself to organize it in any way. He’d begin to put things away but would quickly get overwhelmed with the amount of shit he had to file away. So, he just stared at the piles, his mind occupied by the girl he didn’t get a chance to know, by his own fault. 

He reached into his jacket pocket, reading the time, 4:37 pm, and his notifications, looking for one in particular. 

Jax D.

She’s home safe, area secured.

A small smile graced his lips, happy she was home safe and unharmed. He wished she would’ve told him instead, however. Wishing to hear the words fall from her pretty pink lips. He tapped at the screen to respond. 

Harry:

Good. Thank you. 

He set his phone down, his heart aching in his chest, missing his sweet little lamb. 

+++

“What are you doing tonight?” Ross asked y/n as she unlocked the front doors for the pair, she looked at him over her shoulder as she pulled the door open.

“Mm, probably nothing, I work tomorrow morning so I don’t really wanna do much,” she let him walk in before her, following him inside before locking the door behind them. “Why, what’s up?” she quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Just curious, damn,” he held his hands up in surrender, she rolled her eyes and laughed at him. 

“Well, why are you curious?” The two made their way into the back room, setting their stuff in their designated lockers. She sat down on the bench, retying the shoelace that had come undone. He sat in front of her, legs on either side of the bench. 

“Well, I was gonna see if you wanted to do something cause I’m off tomorrow and I assumed you were too so,” he shrugged, staring at her as she sat across from him.

She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape. “Oh,” she nodded slowly. “What were you thinking?”

“What?”

She rolled her eyes at him, “what did you wanna do?”

“Oh, I’m dumb, I thought you meant, like, what are you thinking,” he said in a scolding tone, she laughed. “But whatever you wanna do, we can see a movie or something.”

She nodded her head slowly, contemplating the idea. It wouldn’t be bad, she could get a blue and red icee, but she didn’t want to give up her daily alone time (with working in the service industry, she looked forward to that very much needed time). But with how melancholy she’d been feeling lately, the alone time became very depressing after an hour. 

“I’m down,” she smiled at him, a dimple cutting into her cheek. “What do you wanna see? The new Priscilla movie is out, I really wanna see that but we don’t have to watch that if you don’t want to,” she rambled. 

“That’s Elvis’ wife right?” She nodded, “I love Elvis,” she cringed. She had a deep hatred for him and his stupid voice and stupid hair. She vowed to never step foot in Vegas because of him. “Let’s do it. Check the times, do you wanna go after work so you’re not staying out too late?” 

“Oh yeah that’s actually perfect.”

He grinned back at her, “perfect. It’s a date.”

He got up before she had the chance to correct him; it was absolutely not a date. 

+++

Harry sat on the edge of his bed, buttoning up a crisp white shirt. He had returned home from his morning jog and worked out for a little over two hours before getting in the shower and readying himself for the day. No meetings planned, which he was thankful for. He just had to foresee a shipment coming in from Arizona, some of the finest coke he had ever seen was set to come in today and he didn’t trust anyone enough to not tamper with the sweet white powder. Jax, Daniel and Lee met him in the hallway, ready to take him to the warehouse, while the rest of his men were already on their way. 

“Morning, Mr. Styles,” one of the burly men greeted him, Harry didn’t bother to respond to the greeting, instead looking to Jax to inquire about his angel. 

“She was dropped off at 5:45 this morning, I watched her go inside with the new waiter. She texted me she doesn’t need a ride home but I’ll still check the area out when she’s set to be off,” Harry’s neck almost snapped with the way he turned so quickly.

“What? Did she say why she doesn’t need a ride home?”

Jax shook his head, “She didn’t, sir.”

“Show me the texts,” he stopped in his tracks, his hand reaching out, waiting for the phone to be placed in his palm. Jax hesitated. Harry narrowed his eyes at him becoming impatient. “Show me the texts, now.” Jax reached into his jacket pocket to pull out his phone and tapped on the screen before handing it over to Harry. 

Y/n 🐇☁️

Ross said he can give me a ride today:) love u see u in the morning

Harry reread the message four times over, his heart caught in his throat. He turned the screen off and gave the phone back to Jax, turning on his heel to walk out to the car. He settled in the backseat, Lee next to him, while Jax and Daniel sat in the front. 

He sat staring out the window, the car not even moving yet. His breathing rapid, his heartbeat similar to one of a rabbit getting caught in the grip of a hawk. 

He broke the uncomfortable silence, “Is Ross the new waiter?” Jax nodded, nonverbal. “He seems interested in her?” Again, the man nodded, not daring to say anything more thinking it would just piss him off further. But Harry wasn’t angry, he was more hurt than anything. He knew he had no right to be upset in any way, afterall he walked out on her, but it still didn’t sit well with him. “What time is she set to be off today?” He turned, looking at the man in the passenger seat. 

“Scheduled off at 2:30, but depends on if she’s finished with her tables. She's still training the new waiter so it could be longer than that. She said he’s not very good,” Jax threw the last bit in there to appease Harry. It worked. 

“You’ll switch cars for the day, you can take the beemer, I want to see her make it home safe.”

“Yes, Mr. Styles.”

+++

Y/n and Ross made their way out of the diner, headed to his beat up little car (he swore it was the coolest “ride” and that the ladies “loved” it). He would take y/n home so she could change and lend him one of her oversized shirts, offering him that after they made the plan to go right after work thinking he’d be uncomfortable in a food stained sweater. He declined the offer at first but after he spilled a copious amount of coffee and syrup on him, he asked if it was still on the table.

Harry and Jax sat in the heavily tinted Beemer watching the pair as they walked out of the double doors and into the piece of shit, as Harry put it. He was fuming, his foot tapping against the carpeted mats of the car as he clenched his jaw, Jax thought he was closing to breaking a few teeth or the mandible all together. The two men followed them as they made their way to y/n’s. 

Harry hadn’t been in this area in a week's time; he had been following Jax in that very car, watching to make sure she was actually making it safe to her little home.

He watched as he parked his car on the street, and watched as they walked up the stairs and stood at the door for him to unlock it. That made him even more angry, how was she so comfortable with a man she barely knew to allow him in her apartment? 

The chiming of bells rang through her apartment as she pushed open the door. 

“Bells?”

She nodded, “I’m a girl living alone, kinda a necessity,” she shrugged, setting her keys down. “Thirsty?” He shook his head. 

“Ya know something’s really gotta be done about that.” She looked at him, a confounded look on her face. 

“What?”

“Like women are scared to live alone, that’s, like, really shitty. And pads and tampons should be free.” She stared at him, her head cocked to the side before shaking her head and approaching her dresser. 

“I have a few sweaters you can borrow too if you’re cold,” she reached into her pajama drawer and pulled out an old Jimi Hendrix shirt she had purchased at a record store from her hometown years ago. The neckline was fraying and the graphic design was barely dark enough to where it was easy to make out.  

“Yeah, I’ll take one if that's alright,” he smiled at her, holding the t-shirt up in front of him. “Do you actually like Hendrix or is this just like a hand-me-down?” 

She rolled her eyes, going through the bin of sweaters she had, trying to find one that would actually fit his lanky, but tall, frame. “Yes, I actually like him, asshat. I have Are You Experienced on vinyl,” she nodded her head to the turntable that sat in the corner, near her bathroom door. A collection of vinyl growing dust sat on the bottom shelf of the stand it sat on. 

“Damn my bad, cupcake.” She hated that. She hated how he called her ‘cupcake’ or ‘sweetie’. She hated how it sounded, hated how it made her feel, hated how degrading it was. She handed him a plain gray sweater, saying nothing, not making eye contact. “Thanks,” he took it from her, his hand grazing hers in an unnecessary manner. Without warning, he pulled his shirt over his head and fumbled with the t-shirt she had handed him. He was just standing in her room basically half naked. 

“Oh,” she said, turning around and facing the opposite of him. He laughed from behind her. She wished she had chosen her alone time. Or at least asked to see the movie later in the day as she was going on nine hours of being with the boy. 

“I’m decent now.” She turned to face her dresser again, filing through her shirt drawer looking for a long sleeve to wear under her sweater. Even with the chilly fall weather, movie theaters cranked their ac all the way up. “I’m gonna change in the bathroom,” she shut the door after getting the last word of her sentence out, thankful to have a moment to herself. 

While she was undressing her upper half, she heard a pounding on the door, the bells clanking against the wood. “Hey are you okay?” she shouted.

“Yeah,” he yelled back to her, “there’s some guy at your door, should I open it?”

Some guy? She couldn’t think of anyone who would drop by randomly on a Tuesday afternoon, other than Jax but he knew she didn’t need a ride so it couldn’t have been him, right? 

“Gimme a sec,” she tugged her long sleeve over her head and opened the bathroom door, pulling her hair out of the neckline. 

She covered the eyehole for a moment before briefly looking into it, but someone was covering the other side of it. She glanced back at Ross, shrugging her shoulders, silently asking what she should do. 

“Here, I got it,” he approached her and she stepped back to give him some space. He cracked the door open slightly, just enough space for his head to be visible from the other side. “Hey can I help you?” 

The door was pushed open, Ross groaning at the force from the man on the other side. Harry stomped his way in the apartment, looking around the space before his eyes landed on her. His gaze softened. He didn’t say anything. Neither did she. 

“Dude, you can just fucking come into someones house man,” Ross said from behind him. Harry rolled his eyes, turning to face the significantly smaller boy. 

“Don’t fucking call me dude, who the fuck are you?” Harry yelled as he approached him, towering over him and backing him into the wall.

Ross swallowed, his back hitting the brick wall. “I-uh, who are you?” he retorted, Harry chuckled. 

“What are you doing here?” y/n spoke up, taking a step closer to him. Harry turned, locking eyes with her again. 

He didn’t have an explanation that didn’t make him sound insanely jealous and possessive of someone who wasn’t even his. “I, y/n, I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I’m sorry.”

“Can we go outside for a second?” Harry nodded, his hand on the doorknob waiting for her to come with him. He closed the door behind him. She didn’t say anything, a sad look on her face.

Harry’s hand twitched beside him, wanting so desperately to pull her into him to hold her or even to touch her cheek again. She poked at the chipped nail polish on her nails. 

“I still haven’t made any banana bread,” she broke the silence. A smile made a home on Harry's lips. 

“Hmm, that’s exactly why I came, how’d you know?” she smiled up at him, a gleam in her eyes. Harry’s smile wavered. His hands twitched again, his subconscious begging him to run, begging him to stay far away from the sweet angel that stood in front of him. 

“ ‘S just a guess,” her head dipped down again, her arms coming to wrap around her torso as the autumn air nipped away at her. 

They stood in silence for a moment, none of the two knowing what to say after weeks of no contact. Harry felt he couldn’t ask her about the morning shift or about the things Jax has told him about her life recently; he wasn’t invited into that part. Rather, he uninvited himself to that part of her life when he sent he Jaxs information then proceeded to go back and forth with blocking and unblocking her number. 

“We’re going to see Priscilla, it starts pretty soon.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.” 

“Didn’t know you were an Elvis fan.”

“I’m not,” she was quick to disprove the claim, “it’s not about him, it’s about his child bride.” Harry chuckled. 

“Hm, I’m not too fond of the ‘Viva Las Vegas’ bastard either,” she smiled, wryly. “I’ll head out then, I hope you enjoy your night,” he turned on his heel, she followed behind him, meeting him at the stairs.

“Harry,” he turned, surprised with how close she was. “If you’d like, um, you can come over after I get home.”

“I’d love to,” he grinned at her. 

“Harry?” They were so close to each other. 

“Yes?”

“You promise you’ll come back?” His heart broke, practically shattered at that. He shook his head fervently. 

“Yes. Yes, y/n, I’ll come back once you tell me to.”

“I’ll see you soon, Harry.”

“I’ll see you soon, y/n.”

Harry descended down the stairs, she stayed in her spot, peering over the railing to watch him walk away. She hoped he’d keep his promise. The front door to her apartment creaked, Ross peeking his head out, warily. 

“He gone?” she nodded, heading back into her space. “Who was that? He’s scary as shit, cupcake. How do you know him?” he asked, bewildered by the mysterious man who practically burst into her home. 

“Ya know that friend who owes me a favor?” He nodded. “That’s him. He’s kinda temperamental, I’m sorry,” a pursed smile was sent to him as an apologetic gesture. 

“Kinda is an understatement, sweetheart.” There it was again. A nickname coated in degradation. One she hated coming from him, but if Harry or Jax had said it, it would absolutely be and feel different. 

“Are you ready to go, I’m sure we’re gonna miss all the trailers and you know what’ll happen if I don’t get my blue and red Icee.” she joked. 

“First, I truly doubt something bad is going to happen to the county of Placerville and second its blue raspberry and cherry. Not blue, not red.” She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. 

“Yeah whatever, let’s go dipshit.” His laugh boomed through the room as she picked her keys off the counter. 

+++

Y/n was sobbing. Her heart caught in her throat as Elvis was forcing Priscilla to pack a bag to take to her parents after she confronted him about finding a love note in his jacket pocket. He was terrifying and the movie just reinforced how poorly she thought of the beloved singer. 

A hand grazed her knee, finding a place on her thigh. She was stunned, not daring to move her leg in any way. The thumb moving from side to side, a reassuring gesture, sure, but coming from someone she didn’t think of in any way other than a coworker; it was unwanted, unjustified. She swallowed back the acid building in her throat and reached for her watered down Icee, sipping on the cool liquid. She still hadn’t moved the hand and she wouldn’t for the remainder of the film, far too scared of potential consequences.  

A flood of relief washed over her when the movie ended and the lights returned. A halo of light above their heads woke the sleeping boy next to her.

He stretched out, “ ‘s over?” she nodded. 

“I take it you weren’t a fan?”

He shook his head, “I don’t think I was the target audience,” he shrugged, “you liked it?”

She nodded, “I loved it.”

They stood from their seats and headed for the exit, she tossed her melted Icee remnants and popcorn before they exited the building entirely. It was completely dark out and pouring. They ran to his car, trying to outrun the downpour embracing them. 

Silence covered them as they sat in the car, the heater spat out cold air before finally heating the space to a more comfortable temperature. He put the car into reverse and sped out of the parking lot. Soft indie music played through the speakers, no artists y/n had particularly liked but she wouldn’t complain as she wasn’t the one driving. 

His hand found a home on her thigh again, higher than the previous unwanted gesture was. She glared down at it for a moment before grabbing his hand in between her thumb and pointer finger, moving it so it sat on the gear shift instead. He chuckled. 

“Sorry, thought it was fine since,” he turned to glance at her before looking back out the windshield, “you didn’t move it earlier.” 

She stared at her hands in her lap, swallowing the saliva building up in her mouth. “I, um,” she pulled her lips into her mouth for a moment, “I’m not really interested in you like that. I’m sorry.”

“Oh.” he took a sharp breath, before laughing. “I’m really bad at reading people. I’m sorry, I got the wrong idea.” Relief washed over her. 

“No don’t worry, I’m also extremely passive and I can’t really express myself like I should, I don't know.” 

“Well, it's both our faults then,” he smiled at her and she sent one right back. 

Harry watched as he put his car into park, having made it back to her apartment complex before them as his car went much faster than his beat up civic. He watched as y/n reached over the middle console to hug the boy and watched as she got out to ascend the stairs. Now he would simply wait to get a text to invite him up. 

Y/n opened the door, greeted by her bells, and flicked on the lights. She ran around her studio, trying to tidy up quickly, and lit a pumpkin spice candle before running into the bathroom to take a quick shower, desperate to wash the rain scent off her (and Ross’ lingering touch).

Harry sat in his car, his fingers dancing along the dashboard impatiently as he wondered what was taking her so long. Naturally, his mind went to the worst case scenario; someone broke in and is holding her hostage or she fell and twisted her ankle and is screaming on the floor from the debilitating pain or-.

His phone chimed, her message casting a glow onto his face.

Y/n:

i’m home now you can head over whenever:)

His anxiety was alleviated from her text message, a confirmation of her safety and wellbeing. He immediately got out of his car, the warmth from the heated seats almost disappeared instantly with how cold and wet it was. And like her, he ascended the stairs to knock on the door.

On the inside, y/n was confused by the knocking, not realizing it was Harry with how quickly the knocking happened after she sent the text. She peered through the peephole and immediately opened the door, not wanting him to stay in the cold much longer. The bells on the handle sang.

“Bells?” She nodded. “Hm.”

“It’s a safety thing, I guess.”

“You don’t feel safe?” He stepped closed to her as she shut the door behind him.

“Well, it’s not that I don’t feel safe, I just wanted extra precaution,” she shrugged.

“If you don’t feel safe I’ll have Jax stay in the area and have hourly check ins or we can relocate you or-”

“Relocate? Harry, no it’s not that big of a deal I just wanted to be able to hear the door from the shower.” Harry glared at her. 

“Not that big of a deal? Y/n, your safety is a huge deal.” 

“Can we drop it? Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” she approached her bed and sat down, picking up a decorative pillow to mess with the trim. 

Harry sighed and sat next to her on the bed, moving her hair from her face. She looked at him, the glimmer in her eyes returning. The little voice in Harry’s head returned, even louder, shouting at him to leave her alone; to get out of there and never look back.

“We can drop it, but you need to tell me if you ever feel unsafe, little lamb, understood?” She nodded. “Y/n,” he said in a warning tone, “tell me you understand, please. 

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Yes, Harry, I understand.”

“Thank you.”

“How’d you get here so fast?” Harry froze, trying to come up with an excuse but blanking, just staring at her for a minute while his mind went a million miles an hour. “Harry?”

“I, I kinda just stayed in the parking lot while you were gone.”

She laughed. “No way, you waited more than two hours? Just sitting in your car?” he hesitantly nodded, a blatant lie.

He absolutely did not wait in his car outside of her apartment. He followed them to the theater, bought himself a ticket to the same movie, and sat at the very top with his head low, and watched them the entire time. He watched as her shoulders shook from crying, watched as she ate her candy and drank her Icee, watched when the boy she was with, whose name he never bothered learning, placed his hand on her lap. He watched them leave the theater with anger coursing through him. 

“You didn’t have to do that, Harry.” He shrugged, not caring to continue this conversation. 

“Why are you on mornings now?” 

She sighed, “I got scared,” her tongue was thick in her mouth, scared to cry again if it resulted in him leaving once more and ending contact for another month. His hand met her back, lightly rubbing the tender flesh beneath his rough hand. Her hands fumbled with the zipper on the pillow. “The night we met really freaked me out.  Like when you left, I swore someone was still here watching me. It was freaky. And the next morning I was so drained, I think that's why I forgot Jax was coming to get me. And then the time changed and I got even more scared cause I would just basically be working in the dark the entire shift and I don’t know I just psych myself out sometimes,” she ended her tangent, partially forgetting to breathe throughout it. 

Harry’s hand moved to tangle in her hair, slightly gripping the strands between his fingers, before removing his touch from her all together. 

“And you forgot your phone,” he joked, a soft smile on his lips. 

She pulled her lips in her mouth, exhaling a laugh through her nose, “and I forgot my phone.”

Silence dawned on them once more. A comfortable one, neither needing to speak as they basked in each other's presence. 

She scooted closer to Harry, her head making contact with his shoulder. Harry gulped at the contact, unsure of what to do with himself. His hand raised, touching her cheek gently. They sat there, in silence, for what felt like an eternity. A comfortable, blissful eternity. 

She had fallen asleep on his shoulder, her breathing became evenly paced and softer. Harry laid her down under her sheets, and saw himself out after kissing her forehead and blowing out her candle. 

+++

Y/n was having an okay day, nothing bad had happened at work, so far. No rude customers, no shitty tips and best of all, no training needed to be done. So, yes her day was going well. Until she received a message from Harry saying they needed to have a talk and that he’ll be picking her up. He was consistent with punctuation, but the period at the end of his sentence horrified her. She was a sweaty, anxious mess her entire shift. 

She reread the message every ten minutes. Time was moving so slow. Her anxiety was eating away at her, like it had been starving for months and had finally found a body to ravage to satiate the hunger. She had four cigarettes during her shift. 

Harry leaned against the passenger door of his car, waiting for y/n’s shift to end. She could feel his eyes on her every time she passed by the window at the front to attend to her last table, she knew he was watching her; he was so attentive. It made her sick. 

When her shift finally ended, after what felt like an eternity and a half, y/n pushed the doors open and made her way to Harry. He looked down at her with a smirk. She hoped he couldn’t see her throat bobbing while she swallowed down the excess saliva building in her mouth. 

“Ya kept me waiting, little lamb.” he opened the car door for her and she could feel her coworkers staring out the window at the pair. 

“‘M sorry.” She sat on the heated seat, placing her bag on the floor between her feet. Harry leaned over her to connect her seatbelt. “Thank you,” she muttered before Harry closed the door. 

“How was your shift?” he asked as he buckled himself in. 

“S’fine.” she mumbled. 

“Angel,” her heart pounded against her sternum, you could practically hear her heartbeat in the silence. “What have I told you about mumbling?”

She bit her lip, gnawing on it before answering. “You don’t understand it.” she practically whispered.

“That’s right, little lamb. Now, why do you keep doing it?”

She could cry, sob and dry heave even. Fall to her knees and beg for forgiveness as if she had angered a god. “I don’t know, I’m sorry.” she fiddled with her fingers. Harry’s hand grabbed her own and pinched the inside of her palm, a squeal escaping her lips. He laughed. 

“Don’t apologize, ‘m just messing with you,” he smiled at her as he parked his car, already at her complex. He was quick to undo his seatbelt and get out, running to her side to open the door for her. “After you.” he gestured to the stairs, allowing her to go in front of him. 

She opened the door, her bells greeting the two. She stood by the door as Harry took a seat in her chair (it finally was free of clean clothing).

“Can you tell me what you want to talk to me about? Please?”

“Eager?” she nodded. 

“More scared than anything.” her breathing was heavy. 

“Oh, my sweet lamb.” remorse covered his face, so sorry and upset he had made a literal angel wait in apprehension. He stood from his spot on the chair and moved to stand before her. Without hesitation, he held her face in the palm of his hand, her nuzzling into the warmth of his touch. “I’m sorry I scared you, didn’t mean to, angel.” 

“S’okay, Harry, I know.” 

“Sit with me,” he removed his hand from her face, instead reaching for her hand to sit with him on the chair. He sat and patted his lap, an invitation for her. 

“There’s not enough space for the both of us.”

He tugged on her arm, “s’fine, just sit.”

“Harry, that chair is 100 years old, I’m not breaking my favorite antique piece.” 

“Y/n,” his tone laced with warning. 

“Harry,” she whined back. “Just sit on the bed with me please.” she pouted. 

And, of course, Harry would give in, standing up with her hand still in his and sitting on the bed to please her. Their thighs were touching with the proximity of their bodies, y/n hoped he couldn’t hear her heartbeat or feel the sweat coating her palm. 

“Can you tell me now, please.” she rested her head on his shoulder, Harry could hear her pouting as she spoke. 

He sighed, squeezing her hand in his. “I feel very,” he paused, trying to gather his thoughts so as to not scare her with how he truly felt. “I feel very protective of you, y/n.” 

“Wow that’s a shocker,” she interrupted, sarcastically. 

“Y/n” he warned, again. 

“Sorry. Go ‘head.” 

“No interruptions, please.” she nodded, “Good girl.” she grinned, “I feel very protective of you and I thought leaving you alone would make it not as intense but it definitely only made it worse, angel. I just, I need to know you’re safe and okay and I have no idea why but I just need to know. Your safety means so much to me, your wellbeing.” he swallowed, taking in a shaky breath. “I need to tell you, or warn you, about what I do.” 

She lifted her head, making eye contact with him, a puzzled look replacing her previously smitten expression. 

“I kinda sell drugs.” Still, she maintained eye contact. He looked at her, waiting for a response. 

“Is that it?” 

“What?” Harry asked, confused. 

“You sell drugs?” he nodded. “Oh okay.”

Still, Harry stared at her, bewildered by her nonchalant response. “You’re okay with that?” 

“Harry, there’s like ten people in this town with nothing to do, literally everyone deals or buys. Not a big deal.” she shrugged a shoulder, her fingers messing with his rings. 

Still, he stared at her, his expression growing concerned. “It’s not just weed, y/n.” She laughed, his eyes were bulging, his jaw slack and a furrow in his brow. 

“I can assume it’s not just weed, you won’t be making much with just weed here.”

“Your casualness with what I’m telling you is concerning.”

Her smile faded, “I'm sorry, what do you want me to say?”

He ran his hand through his hair, dropping his gaze to their hands entwined. “I don’t know. I just didn’t expect you to be so calm.” 

“I used to do coke,” she shrugged. Harry’s eyes snap to hers, squeezing her hand a little more. “I had really bad issues maybe, like, last September. It was really bad, the withdrawals were insane but one of my friends' brothers had, um,” she swallowed down the acid building in her throat. "He got some laced with fent and he passed. My friend only got worse because of it and the guy who sold him it didn’t even care, he was just like ‘well that happens sometimes’, such a fucking asshole like he had just killed someone and that didnt even spark anything in him! I stopped after that cause I was so scared,” she admitted. “My friend never got better, he had to move in with his parents and they forced him to go to rehab but that didn’t even help.” 

“I’m sorry.” was all Harry could offer. 

She looked up at him through her lashes, “I trust you, Harry. I do. But if you’re selling anything laced,” she shook her head, her breathing picking up. 

“I’m not, angel I promise I’m not, I’d never.” he let go of her hand, placing both hands on the sides of her face, forcing her to look at him.

“If you ever work with Liam Payne I’ll kill you.” He laughed at her threat, the name going over his head at the idea of a girl her size trying to cause harm to a man of his stature. “Don’t laugh at me! I’m being serious, Harry. If you ever work with him I’ll never wanna see you again. Liam is a terrible person. I don’t want you to get involved in that too.” 

He deadpanned, “Liam Payne?” she nodded. “How do you know him?” 

“Who do you think sold the laced batch?” Harry was furious. He removed his hands from her face, standing up and letting out a frustrated groan. “What’s wrong? Do you know him?” 

“No,” he responded immediately. “Never met him, Niall was telling me about him. There was a shootout the other day and we think it was him, probably was that stupid fuck. He could be the reason we fucking get caught! Fuck!” he shouted, the girl flinched, her gaze returning to her hands. 

“I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't mean to make you mad at me.” 

He stared at her, his breathing heavy. She couldn’t look at him, wouldn’t dare to make eye contact with him out of fear of him taking it out on her. She knew deep down, however, he would never lay a finger on her; never cause any harm to her whatsoever. But the thought was still prevalent. 

“ M'not mad at you, never at you, little one. Look at me,” she looked up at him, her eyes meeting the green ones she adored. He sat back on the bed, taking her face in his hands one more. “not at you at all. Promise.” she nodded, grabbed his hands from her face and nuzzled her face into his neck, her hands gripping his jacket. “I’m sorry for scaring you, won't do it again.” he apologized as he rubbed her back. 

“Thank you.” she kissed the side of his neck, momentarily feeling his pulse with her lips. Harry’s heart fluttered in his chest. 

Harry wished he could stay like that forever, with her warmth against his, her face nestled in his neck. Peace was finally in his grasp, holding onto it so delicately like a fine piece of china, far too scared to drop it and destroy the delicate art, but it was never in his nature to be deft. He’d take what he could get, and if this was all he would be offered, he would accept it with open arms and a half empty heart. He longed to be full again.

and know that one day, you and I could be okay.

tags: @tiaamberxx @jerseygirlinca @n0vaj3an @tpwk-mia @indierockgirrl @buckybarnessimpp @hannah9921 @love-letters-to-uranus @ribbonknives @annesauriol @moneybaby07

if your @ is in red the tag doesn’t work. thanks for reading and supporting ₊˚⊹♡

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader    

Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.    

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!    

Author’s note: we're going at a much slower pace for this one, apologies for the longer wait!    

Wordcount: 2.9K  

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Not looking him in the eye, tension left your body as you snorted at the strange compliment you got.

“Looks better on you, anyway,”

He could probably tell your heart was beating a million miles a minute, the compliment clearly a joke meant to take the edge off. Which it did, so, that worked out fine.

But then tension built back up when you both started walking in the same direction, back the same way you came to get a taxi. When it dawned on you that you were both going to be headed back to the same hotel, the possibility of sharing a taxi stared at you right in the face.

Fuck.

You immediately started looking for excuses to play for time. A toilet. A souvenir shop. A phone call to distract you enough to stop walking. Anything.

Coffee shop.

Perfect.

You stopped walking and queued up, but then, so did he. Got in line right behind you.

You turned and gave an awkward smile. He returned it and then, there was silence. You just... stood there, next to your suitcases, until it was your turn.

The longer neither of you said anything, the more excruciating it became. Every second that passed made you think the same thought more pressingly: say something, say something, say something.

But... say what, exactly?

You’d already said more to each other than was normal for two strangers, hadn’t you?

You glanced behind you again as you felt your neck was still hot, probably all red, and immediately made eye-contact with him.

“So, this isn't– this is not awkward at all,” you said, huffing a nervous laugh through your nose.

He copied it and went, “Yea,” and was about to say more, was about to instinctually reach out a hand to touch your shoulder, maybe. To touch the fabric of his own T-shirt. But you were next in line and were asked for your order, and then got handed it quite quickly, making you scurry off with it immediately because the thought of waiting for a taxi together was awful and oh my God, you could not share a taxi with him. You needed to be in one by yourself before he was even out of the building because how else were you going to call your friend and tell her everything?!

Plonking down in a taxi with your coffee had you biting your nails, or what was left of those anyway, until it actually pulled up onto the road.

You sighed a breath of relief when you left the airport in your own taxi. Safe, just you in the backseat joined by the friend that you called.

"Bitch, guess what the fuck just happened?"

The nail-biting had been for no good reason. Joe'd been just as adamant about not sharing a taxi when he too realised that you'd be giving taxi drivers the same address to go to. He had hung back with his drink until he'd seen you drive off from behind the glass of the large windows that adorned the full scope of the building. Then, he had a cigarette outside just to extend the time. The space. He'd honestly just wanted a coffee and didn't get into the queue behind you to be a creep, although, he'd mentally admitted to the mistake when he'd seen you awkwardly look at him.

Best to create some distance now to not make things any weirder than they already were.

He'd seen how deep you blushed.

Thought it was all cute, but, understood you probably didn't feel all cute.

On the way back, you told your friend what had just transpired which amused her greatly.

"So he's good looking and rich?"

"I'm afraid so."

It was honestly so unfortunate.

"And staying at the same hotel?"

"I literally died. I'm dead. I am speaking to you from the afterlife."

Dramatic, sure, but it was truly how you felt.

"Oh my God, wait, I need to write all of this down for my speech,"

"Your speech?"

"For when you two get married," your friend found all of it a lot more amusing than you did. The bitch.

"Pff, piss off, my God. It was the most embarrassing thing ever," you complained.

"Well, did you survive it?" she asked pointedly.

"Ugh, stop, keep the voice of reason to yourself, I don't need it,"

She ignored you and answered her own question. "You've survived it fine, get over yourself and actually relax, will you?"

You didn't need reminding. When your boss gave you a weird stare last week and then said that you looked like you were dying, like, actively decaying, you confessed that the stress of, well, everything was really starting to get to you.

You'd been piling responsibilities on top of more responsibilities and the whole thing had become one big unsturdy mess that had started keeping you up at night.

It had started with innocent nail biting, had progressed into waking up at weird hours of the night, unable to get back to sleep and, eventually, nightmares and weird night terrors had crept in. Kept you from getting any sleep at all.

You'd gotten used to passing out from sheer exhaustion around 4 AM, sometimes 5, and then your alarm would pull you from your slumber a mere two hours later. Two and a half if you were lucky.

You'd been sent on this trip to do some mandatory relaxing. Your boss needed you back fresh-faced and well-rested next week. Something something big client, major meetings, important presentation et cetera, et cetera.

"Did you end up getting some actual sleep last night? Hotel bed okay?"

"Yea fine actually, but that was mostly thanks to the three tequila sunrises I poured into myself last night – my nails are practically gone,"

Stress.

"Have an early lunch, get drunk, have a cheeky nap,"

"Yes ma'am,"

"Seriously though, I can't believe how fucking lucky you are, just, fucked off abroad to laze by a pool, boss's orders. Meanwhile I'm stuck here in this horrid fluorescent office lighting and, you know what, I think blue light glasses are a right scam, they don't fucking do anything at all,"

"Hey." you interrupted, "Have an early lunch. Get drunk. Have a cheeky nap."

"Yea, thanks," Sarcasm. "Feel how hard you're frowning right now? How clenched your jaw is? How high your shoulders are?"

Okay, time to hang up. You were keeping your friend from doing her job and her shoving your currently situation into your face wasn't actually helping.

Back at the hotel, you opened your suitcase with your code and only realised then that the good looking rich guy hadn't even been able to open it. You'd gone through every single item in his, knew what he underwear looked like, and he'd been stuck in his room with your locked one.

Unfair, but, in your favour, so fine.

There was a little trickle of guilt, but that was easy to ignore as you unpacked and changed into something more weather-appropriate.

When you dropped the black T-shirt off at the front desk, it took too long for you to explain what you were doing and what you wanted them to do. You kept hesitating on sharing more information, kept adding little bits, until you basically told them the full story.

"Can you hold onto this? Someone will pick it up later– it's, this is his T-shirt. I borrowed it, but he wants it back. Obviously. But I don't know– I don't know when he'll pick it up. I just had his suitcase for a little bit. I've got my own now. We– they got switched, so, this isn't mine. He said to leave it here so..."

Confused narrow eyes stared at you as they hesitantly took the black T-shirt from you. "Do you perhaps have a name, or a room number?"

"No, um... no, I don't– wait, yes, I do, or... I think I do. Do you have a guest here with the name J–"

"Hey,"

There he was. Polite smile and all.

"Oh, that's him," you pointed, glad to end whatever this dumb interaction was.

"That's mine. Thanks." Joe took his own T-shirt, giving you another smile – definitely awkward still – before heading towards the lifts.

Good.

You were going to sit out by the pool, which was the other way. You hoped that he'd be busy enough with work meetings, conference calls, and whatever else people on business trips got up to that you wouldn't have to run into him again.

Except then you did.

Because of course you did.

You'd followed your friend's advice and had gone for a nap at 4 in the afternoon. It was a struggle to actually fall asleep, and perhaps you should've gotten a small coffee at the airport instead of a large one, but you'd gotten a good hour and a half in. You'd woken up all kinds of disoriented and groggy, and had silently debated getting room service for dinner instead of going down to make your reservation at the restaurant. After going back and forth between staying in bed or getting out, you'd decided to get out for fear of not being able to get to sleep later.

You'd gotten ready, decided that a strappy dress would do, and double checked if you had your hotel room key before closing the door behind you and making your way over to the lifts.

It took ages for a lift to get to you, and then when one finally did, you pressed the button for the ground floor, but the lift slowed just as quickly as it started going.

Ninth floor.

Doors opened.

Him.

Wearing the fucking jacket you'd worn to the rooftop bar the night before.

Should've gone with room service.

"Hi," he said on the back-end of an amusing chuckle. You pursed your lips together in a small smile as a response.

Cool.

You were going to be in a lift together for half a minute. Very fun that every single surface inside of the lift was mirrored, your reflection inescapable.

And he was wearing the fucking burgundy jacket.

This was going to be your trip, wasn't it? This was what it was going to be like the whole time. Constant reminders of your stupid cringeworthy choices from that first evening and maybe you could just go drown yourself in the ocean later. Just for funsies.

The hum of the lift as it picked up speed wasn't enough to fill the silence.

The deafening silence.

"Nice jacket,"

As you counted down the floors, you though you might as well just lean into it now. Into this whole bit. Acknowledge the elephant in the room and make yourself feel lighter about it.

"Thanks. Nice dress."

"Thanks."

Just a few more floors.

"I wouldn't have been able to pull that off,"

You looked at him in the mirrored surface in front of you before you turned your head to look at him from the side. Was that... was that a double entendre?

No.

Could be though.

Was the rich good looking business man flirting?

Maybe.

The potential lay in wait.

"Mhm..." you mused, confidence growing when you saw he was trying to repress a grin. "I think you're selling yourself short, Joe," 

You revealed you knew his name. Thought you knew his name, anyway. His face dropped, just for a second. It could've been a reaction to the lift stopping with a slight jolt as it reached the lobby.

"I feel like you've got the legs to make this work." you joked, but didn't get a laugh in response. Just a tightlipped sort of barely there little smile. The polite kind.

Doors opened and you left whatever that moment was behind as you stepped out.

Food.

It took Joe a second to gather himself, to silently scold himself for needing to get used to this already. Be appreciative of it whilst he was at it. People knowing him ultimately was a good thing, something he'd worked so hard for and had wanted for so long. He couldn't let the bitter aftertaste it left him with affect him so much.

He was fine.

So, you knew who he was? Big deal. Lots of people knew who he was.

He was fine.

Except, he wasn't fine.

He wasn't fine as he sat through his dinner at his table for one, tucked away in one of the corners of the restaurant with perfect view of you.

Perfect view of you sinking teeth into your starter, main and dessert.

Perfect view of fingers wrapping around glassware of every drink you had.

Of the flirting the waiter seemed to entertain you with, getting warm smiles and sometimes cute giggles in return.

Of how you filled the quiet with your phone that was laid down face up next to your plate, just using a middle finger to swipe and tap at the screen.

Of how you declined a coffee and told the waiter you were going to go upstairs for a drink, smiling as you pointed a small finger up.

Of how your body swayed as you walked away in a dress that looked great, but you know what looked better?

You know when you'd looked better to him?

Joe wasn't allowing himself to think it.

He thought it, but didn't let his inner monologue sound the words out.

Joe had watched you all throughout dinner and then, after finishing his own meal, had followed you upstairs and then watched you as you sat at the bar with a cocktail.

He watched as you buried yourself into your phone even more.

Watched as you ordered another drink with a charming smile that told him you were probably not going to have to pay for any of the drinks you were getting.

Watched as your leg started bouncing.

Watched as you used a hand to rub at your arm, picking up then that the breeze he felt was getting colder.

Watched as your shoulders hunched up more, full attention with your phone still.

What were you even doing on that phone? Work? In a place like this?

Well, sort of.

You were working through e-mails. Slowly. Very slowly. You'd get distracted by Instagram and group chats. Tidied your gallery a little. Added whatever you wanted to the notes app: little to do lists, silly thoughts, creative ideas, things you couldn't forget to do before you'd go back home – like, "get a manicure" and then right below that, "mani pedi if possible".

You felt how the alcohol started warming your blood a little, and it had been enough to keep you warm until suddenly, it wasn't anymore. Temperatures dropped fast at night, and when you'd ordered your third cocktail, you contemplated maybe also getting a warm drink.

You shivered and checked the time.

You could also not order a fourth drink and maybe ask if you could take this one back to your room. Have a hot bath and drink it there.

Before deciding on anything, you typed, "get a jacket" in your notes app, and then added "or get the one long sleeved thing you wore cleaned". It was stupid how making lists like this made you feel productive. Calmed your nerves almost instantly. You looked at your finger nails and realised you hadn't bitten at any of them since that morning.

"Hi, can I just ask– is it okay for me to take this back to my room?"

As an answer, the bartender reached and held up a plastic cup before looking at you questioningly. Did you want whatever was in front of you poured into a to-go cup?

Before you could answer, you jolted a little at a sudden touch to your body from behind.

Fabric.

A jacket got draped over your shoulders.

Burgundy.

You took a shaky breath of cold air, ribs tightening around your lungs.

You recognised the scent before you did anything else which made you bite your lips into your mouth in an attempt to ignore that thought completely.

You turned to look.

Nobody.

Other side.

Joe.

Joe smiled, already walking away from you, back towards the lifts. All polite and warm and charming. Rich business man smile. Ugh.

Before he got out of earshot, you managed to ask, "Do I leave this at the front desk again?"

"Sure," Joe shrugged one shoulder, triggering the glass sliding doors in front of him. "Or drop it off at room 907, either one's fine."

Was there any point in trying to hide your smile?

"907. Got it. Thank you."

With a last glance that lasted just a fraction of a second too long, Joe headed inside and you turned back to the bartender who was still waiting for an answer.

"Um," you frowned, shook your head and closed your eyes a second to think.

"Did you want your drink to go, ma'am?" 

"No, thank you." you moved to slide your arms into the sleeves of Joe's jacket.

"I'll have it here."

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[dixons-sunshine]

espinosa!reader established relationship with daryl and carol treats her like a sister she always protects

Something To Prove | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Espinosa!Reader

Summary: Ever since meeting you, Carol has felt an overwhelming urge to protect you at all costs. You were like a sister to her and she would go to great lengths to ensure your safety and your happiness. Now, after you went to her after an argument you had with Daryl, she made good on her promise and decided to give her best friend a piece of her mind.

Additional pairings: Carol Peletier x Fem!Espinosa!Reader (platonic)

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Era: Alexandria/Sanctuary, post Saviour war, pre the building of the bridge

Warnings: Swearing, arguing

Word count: 1.9k

A/n: Thank you so much for the request! I didn't know exactly what to write but I hope you like where I went with this. There's not a lot of Daryl x Reader in this, but it was so fun to write about Carol and reader's platonic relationship. I love Carol with my whole heart.

As always, my requests are open for any TWD requests. AND NOW THEY'RE ALSO OPEN FOR ANY SCUD FROHMEYER REQUESTS! It's actually criminal how little fics about him there are, so send in any thoughts, headcannons or requests about him, along with some about our wonderful Daryl Dixon.

—

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait a second. He said that?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, wiping a stray tear from your eye. “I understand he doesn't want me to be in danger, but I can tell how much he hates it here. I don't want him to be alone, but he keeps pushing me away. I don't know what to do, Carol. He won't even talk to me about it without starting up an argument.”

Carol pulled you into her embrace, gently rubbing your back as you quietly cried into her shoulder. She slightly rocked you side to side, whispering reassuring things into your ear as she tried to calm you down. She held you tightly, refusing to let up until you felt better.

After a couple of minutes of just being held, you pulled back and wiped the remaining tears from your eyes. You gave her a weak smile and stood up, wiping your hands on your jeans.

“Sorry about all that,” you apologized sheepishly. “I don't know why I broke down like that.”

“Don't apologize,” she reassured you, waving you off. “It's good to let your emotions out every once in a while. Bottling them up doesn't help, believe me.”

“Maybe you should try telling that to Daryl,” you scoffed, folding your arms over your chest. “He's done nothing but bottle up his feelings lately. I understand that he's not the most open person when it comes to things like feelings, but he always talked to me whenever something was bothering him. Now he's becoming more like the Daryl I knew when we first met back at Terminus. Reserved and closed off.”

Carol nodded, intently listening to you. “Do you want me to talk to him?”

You shook your head. “No,” you began, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don't want him to get pissed at you either. I'll be fine.”

Carol pursed her lips and hesitantly agreed. “Okay, if you're sure.”

“I am,” you nodded, before hearing the walkie-talkie go off in your pocket, your sister on the other line.

“There's a problem. One of these pendejos caused a fight to break out and I can't find Daryl anywhere.”

“Mierda,” you cursed under your breath. You looked at Carol apologetically. “Sorry, I have to go.”

“It's okay,” she reassured you, getting up to give you a quick hug. “Be safe out there, alright?”

“Always am,” you quipped before rushing out of the room, talking to Rosita on the walkie-talkie. “I'm on my way. Keep them from killing each other.”

With that, you were gone. Carol looked at where you disappeared into and sighed, a million thoughts plaguing her mind, but she was sure about one thing—she had to confront Daryl about the way he was treating you. Carol was the one who had encouraged Daryl to pursue a romantic relationship with you in the first place, and she'd be damned if he threw it all away because of his stubborn nature.

With determination, she got up and walked out of the door, one destination clear in her mind. She knew exactly where Daryl would be at that moment, and it was as good a time as any to try and knock some sense into the archer.

—

“Figured I'd find you here.”

Daryl looked up at the approaching woman, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He grunted in acknowledgement at Carol, turning his gaze away from her and back to the ground.

Carol sat down next to the archer. She stared ahead and sighed, catching Daryl's attention. “I know I've said this a lot, but I really think Y/n is the one for you, you know?”

Daryl furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, not sure why the Peletier would bring you up as the topic of conversation. “Yeah,” he started, nodding slightly. “I think so too.”

“Really?” Carol asked. When Daryl nodded, she continued. “Then why the hell are you pushing her away? Do you have something you wanna prove?”

“I ain't pushin' her away,” he replied, more confused now. He took a final drag from his cigarette before putting it out, flicking it away from him.

“Then why the hell would she feel the need to come to me for advice on what to do? In tears, might I add.”

Daryl's frown deepened. “Wha'?” he asked, suddenly feeling small under Carol's scrutinizing stare. “She came to ya cryin'?”

“Yeah,” she nodded, pursing her lips. “She came to me about the argument you had with her this morning. From what she told me, you said some pretty nasty stuff. What's that all about?”

Daryl sighed, realisation dawning on him. Memories of the argument he had with you flashed through his mind and he grimaced. He immensely regretted everything he had said to you in that argument, but he didn't know how to fix it. You and Daryl had been arguing a lot more since he started supervising over the Sanctuary. He didn't trust any of the former Saviours and he knew some of them had it out for him, so having you there with him made him scared. Scared that the Saviours would take their anger out on you. Scared that he couldn't protect you against all of them. He felt so scared for you.

Admittedly, having you there did make him feel better. To have your presence beside him and to be able to hold you at night while you talked about your day made this hellhole a lot better for him, but it also made him anxious. He didn't want any of the backlash meant for him to get you hurt. He couldn't watch get hurt. He'd never be able to forgive himself.

“Daryl?” Carol voiced, snapping him out of his thoughts. He looked over at her and frowned.

“She tell ya everythin'?” he asked, continuing when she nodded. “Then I dun' have anythin' to say.”

“You do!” she exclaimed in frustration. “Why are you treating her like that? She's your partner, Daryl! That woman would do anything for you!”

“Tha's wha' scares me!” he bit back loudly. When he saw Carol go quiet, he lowered his voice. “She has proven tha' she would do anythin' fer me by bein' here at this shit hole. I can see tha' bein' here is takin' a toll on her. And these assholes ain't makin' her life any easier. I jus' want her to be safe.”

“Daryl,” Carol started, putting a comforting hand on the archer's shoulder. “You know she can handle herself. And even if she couldn't, no place would ever be really safe. There are Saviours everywhere now. At Alexandria, Hilltop and the Kingdom. It doesn't matter whether she's here or there. If she's here, at least you'll be able to keep her safe.”

Daryl pondered over Carol's words. After a few minutes of silence, he finally spoke up. “I messed up, didn't I?”

“Big time,” Carol nodded, chuckling softly. “But it's okay. Just go talk to her, and I mean really talk to her. No arguments.”

Daryl nodded and got up, turning and heading back into the Sanctuary. He only had one goal in mind; find you and beg for your forgiveness if he had to.

“Go get her, tiger!” Carol laughed from behind him, pleased that she was able to get through to him. She just hoped that his stubbornness wouldn't mess it up.

—

“Hey. Ya got a moment to talk?”

You looked up from the papers you were reading, locking eyes with Daryl. You could see him fidgeting with his hands, his body language radiating nervousness.

You nodded at him. “Yeah.”

Daryl inhaled sharply and stepped forward. You watched him anxiously, not knowing what to expect. The longer he took to speak, the more your mind started to wander—did he do something wrong? Was he bit? Was he leaving you for someone else?

“'M sorry 'bout this mornin',” he finally said, taking you by surprise. “I shouldn't have said wha' I said. I know yer jus' tryin' to look out fer me and I appreciate it. I jus' got scared tha' somethin' would happen to ya if ya stayed here with me. Most of these assholes dun' exactly like me and will do anythin' to hurt me. I jus' dun' want them to hurt ya to get back at me.”

You stepped forward and embraced Daryl in a tight hug, catching him off guard. However, he hugged you back tightly in a couple of seconds, burying his face into your shoulder. He breathed in your clean scent and instantly relaxed, his body sagging slightly.

“You should've told me how you felt, Dar. It would've saved us so many arguments,” you whispered, sighing in relief.

Daryl scoffed lightheartedly. “I doubt tha'. We woulda jus' argued 'bout whether ya should stay here or not.”

“I'm not leaving,” you said with a sense of finality in your voice. “I know how much you hate it here, Daryl. That's why I decided to stay. I stayed so that you didn't have to feel alone in this place.”

Daryl pulled back from the hug to look at you, keeping you in his arms. His heart fluttered at your revelation, and he gave you a small smile. “Ya stayed fer me?”

You nodded. “Of course I did. I love you, Daryl. I'd do anything for you.”

Daryl ducked his head down to press his lips against yours, catching them in a sweet kiss. The kiss lasted for a couple of seconds before he pulled back, resting his forehead against yours. “I love ya more.”

“I love you the most,” you retorted playfully, giving him a teasing smile.

“Ain't possible,” he replied, scoffing lightly.

“Agree to disagree,” you said playfully.

Daryl rolled his eyes affectionately before kissing you again, this time more feverishly than before. It didn't take long for Daryl to push you back against the table, hoisting you up by your thighs to sit on it.

You giggled against his lips. “Eager much?”

“Shut up,” he mumbled before attacking your neck with kisses, nibbling on your sweet spot beneath your ear. You moaned quietly and leaned your head back, giving him more access to your neck.

However, the moment was short-lived. The crackling of static from the radio startled the two of you, Eugene's voice coming through.

“Daryl, Y/n, we need you down by the trucks pronto, ASAP.”

Daryl groaned and lowered his head to rest on your shoulder, eliciting a laugh from you. You gently pushed him away from you and jumped off the table, grabbing his hand and interlocking your fingers.

“Come on, they need us. We can finish this later.”

“Gonna hold ya to tha',” he responded, giving you a heated stare.

You smiled at him. “C'mon, pretty boy. Let's go.”

[rumble-aint-a-rumble-without-me]

d. di. dillo ml <3 could i maybe perhaps get hcs for the boys and a theatre kid! s/o? <3

A/N: I’m a stage manager so I feel qualified to answer these asks. I went down the high school theater train here because it felt the most applicable and I felt most confident writing it so…yeah. Hope you enjoy!

DARRY CURTIS

This man is an absolute saint and unofficially joined your set building crew once your show started because he works in construction kinda sorta and figured what better way to help your show than to help build everything you need

The rest of the cast and crew goes absolutely wild when he shows up the first time because let’s be real folks, Darry is absolutely stunning, incredibly strong, and an absolute gentlemen

He’s wonderful at helping you with lines too, if you need some assistance with memorizing or just someone to talk through them with, Dare is more than happy to help you out

Dare’ll give up his free time for that too, like in the evenings when he wants to do is crawl into bed and catch some rest before having to work again tomorrow, he’ll sit with you in the living room and recite lines until you feel confident

Come show time, he’s sitting in the front row with his brothers, grinning up at you when you’re on stage, clapping the loudest when it’s done <3

He brings you flowers too, a nice little bouquet that he gives to you after you’re done, congratulating you on such a good performance, he’ll tell you every show you do was even better than your last, no matter what happens

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop absolutely loves that you’re an actor, he thinks it’s super duper cool and is literally so in awe of your talent no matter how talented you think you actually are-

He likes to joke, that if he were still in school, he’d be up on stage with you, acting right alongside you, playing every love interest you could ever have on that big stage

The theater director, I’m sure, would have loved to have Sodapop in the plays/musicals because just look at that man’s face and I will bet you actual money that Sodapop can sing too

On those rough days, the days where you can’t remember any of your lines, can’t hit any of your notes, miss every single one of your cues, Sodapop will be there to help you through it

Those days happen, I see them all the time, but Sodapop, with the gentlest voice you’ve ever heard and the sweetest smile on his face, will offer to help you with everything

Come showtime, Sodapop is sitting in that front row, right in the center of the stage, hearts in his eyes and flowers in his hands, eager for you to perform so he can see you doing your thing <3

PONYBOY CURTIS

Guess what buds, Ponyboy Curtis a stage crew kiddo because I said so and now it’s canon in this universe in which these headcanons exist-

He does lights or something, something where he’s around the cast enough to develop a huge crush on you but still separate enough so that he has to make an effort to see you

But once you start dating, Ponyboy finds himself being dragged into the cast circles and into your friend groups more often, being brought more into the acting group of people

One time, and I swear to you it happened one time, he was working one of the spotlights for a rehearsal and was so in awe of your acting talent that he just…forgot…to spot you during your big monologue…

When he notices that he missed his cue, he apologizes like a million times once he finds you again, and when you realize why he missed the cue, please give him a million more kisses because that’s really cute

After you guys finish your show, Ponyboy takes you out to the diner or something and have a little date with you and congratulate you on your job well done!

DALLAS WINSTON

After talking with my dearest friend, thanks a bunch @a-person-who-didnt-wanna-be-here, I finally figured out what I was gonna say about this boyo, I stared at his section for WAY too long

But anyway! If you’re dating Dallas and you’re doing high school theater, prepare yourself for him either asking a shit ton of questions about what you’re working on or absolutely not caring about anything at all

For sure, he’ll show up at your shows and give you a rinky-dink little bouquet of flowers and congratulate you on a job well done and have absolutely no clue about what show you just performed

Dallas will literally get up in the middle of the show and leave because he’s bored when you’re not on the stage and he’ll just hang out outside and smoke until he’s bored of being outside and wants to go back in

If you find yourself in the unfortunate situation where you have to kiss one of your fellow actors for a scene, you don’t have any good options regarding Dallas

Either you tell him before and have to deal with him complaining and threatening your fellow actor or you don’t tell him and run the risk of him finding out <3 good luck!

JOHNNY CADE

Supportive! Boyfriend! To! The! Max! Johnny is absolutely wonderful with a theater kid partner and I just know it all the way done to the marrow in my bones

He would help you run lines, hanging out at your house until the late hours of the night until you’ve got all your lines down and just help you remember them because he just likes you so much

Johnny doesn’t want to be in the plays/musicals and he doesn’t want to be involved with the stage crew either, but he hangs around rehearsals when he can because it beats going home and he likes being able to walk you back to your house when it gets late and stuff

The rest of the cast loves him though, he’s a sweetheart and a little cutie and ya know, he just, he never does anything wrong. He’s a little baby boy and I love him-

He comes to all your shows! You can always find him sitting in the audience cheering for you at curtain calls and waving when he catches your attention

Johnnykid tries to get the rest of the boys to come with him too, mostly Ponyboy, because he wants to show off how talented you are and all that good jazz!

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two-Bit is not in any of the shows. He’s never on a cast list, never in the crew, he doesn’t help with anything at all. But he’s always at rehearsals-

Why is he wasting his time at rehearsals you may ask? Why is he spending afternoons in that old theater, sitting in the uncomfortable seats and watching people practice a show he’s not even in? Oh, it’s because of you, of course!

He doesn’t do much, especially not when he’s got you sitting next to him, and a majority of his time is spent sitting with you and running his mouth about the other cast members and stuff

A large chunk of what he says are compliments on your acting and mumbled remarks into your ear about how you’re better than whoever is on stage or how the two of you could be off somewhere else, doing something else…

But everyone else thinks he’s kinda funny and he doesn’t cause too many problems when he’s around cause you keep him on enough of a leash that anything he does can be considered more funny than problematic

When opening weekend rolls around, he tells everyone he knows to come see you perform, hyping you up consistently and making sure when you come out for bows, you’ve got an audience full of people waiting there to cheer you on!

STEVE RANDLE

I feel like I boil Steve’s character down to a cheerleader boyfriend way too often but like- that’s just the way he is- I don’t know what else you want me to say-

But anyways, just imagine for a moment, sitting in the garage of the DX while Steve’s covered in grease, working underneath a car, while you sit pretty by the toolboxes and run lines with him

He offers to pick you up from rehearsals and drive you home for multiple reasons because a) he likes taking care of you, b) he likes hearing about your rehearsal, and c) he’d never miss an opportunity to drive you around

He drags Sodapop along to your shows because he feels weird going by himself but still really wants to show up out of the blue and surprise you by sitting in the audience with flowers

Triple bonus boyfriend points, he takes you out for dinner after your final show to congratulate you on a job well done and treat you to something while simultaneously showing you off!

While you’re rehearsing and stuff, he calls you his superstar because he’s goofy like that and will state how you’re the next rising star and compare you to all these famous actors/actresses and ask you not to forget about him once you make it to Broadway

TIM SHEPARD

Tim popped by your rehearsal one time because…I don’t even know why, probably cause you forgot your script at his house or something and everyone absolutely lost it cause Big Bad Tim Shepard is at a theater rehearsal

He doesn’t really talk to anyone but you, handing over that script and offering to pick you up after you’re done and take you out to dinner or something <3

Tim’s a pain in the ass to work on lines with, but he’ll help you out if you really need a hand with memorizing them-

I’m getting this visual of you sitting in the Shepard kitchen late at night, deep in thought at the kitchen table while Tim sits on the opposite side and reads from your script, feeding you lines when you need a little hint

He drops you off at the theater on opening day, way earlier than the actual showtime because call times are a thing and they absolutely suck, but he sends you off on your way with a good luck kiss

Tim doesn’t sit in the front row, doesn’t sit with your family, doesn’t bring anyone else along with him, but he’s there at your shows and always gives you a little wave when you bow, winking at you when he manages to catch your eye

CURLY SHEPARD

Imma just be real with you, there’s a really high chance that Curly might be thrown in reform during your show run, he’s a delinquent and ya know, he has a rough time staying out of the pen sometimes

In that case ^^ he sends Tim in his stead so that Tim can tell him all about how you did so that Curly can shower you with praise once he gets out

If he’s not in the pen! Yay! He comes to all of your shows and never buys a ticket, sneaking in every time because no one’s gonna stop him from seeing you perform during your big moments

He hangs out during rehearsals, causing a ruckus when he can and loping off with a smug smirk when he gets kicked out, after blowing you a kiss of course

Curly’s not gonna bring you flowers but it’s not because he doesn’t care it’s just cause he doesn’t have the money or the memory to get you flowers so he just gives you a bunch of kisses instead!

Random to finish, but don’t ever try and get Curly to run your lines with you because he’ll end up turning it into some sort of, remember-a-line-and-you-get-a-kiss game and then y’all will just end up making out instead of working on memorizing lines sooooo……yeah

[jflemings]

— inevitable

pairing: jessie fleming x reader

synopsis: jessie’s leaving chelsea which means she also has to leave you / part 2

warning: ANGSTTT, breakup but soft bc ur both still so in love, suggestive towards the end

a/n: i put my whole pegussy into this like…

It's inevitable everything that's good comes to an end

tears begin to cloud your vision, blurring the image of jessie standing in front of you in your living room “you’re not here for dinner, are you?”

the canadian looks down at her feet “no” she mumbles, almost shamefully “i’m sorry”

you knew she was being honest. you could see it all over her face, this was something that she didn’t want to do to either of you. if you know jessie well, and you do, you know that she would’ve gone over a million and one different scenarios in her head before landing on this one. she would’ve tried to come up with a solution that suited the both of you, one that ensured she wouldn’t end up standing in your apartment breaking up with you the way she is now.

unfortunately, life hasn’t worked out that way.

“no, jess. i get it” you say softly, trying your best to put on a brave face “this is for your career, your future”

she shakes her head almost immediately at your words “you— you are my future” she rushes, eyes wide in an effort to show you she’s being honest.

you can’t help but sigh and hold your hand out to her, urging her to take it. she does so delicately, her fingers curving into your palm slowly as she lets you guide her to the spot next to you on the couch. she keeps her distance but continues to hold your hand as a means of keeping grounded and secure in the moment she’s been dreading since she made her decision.

the mascara that you applied this morning is now making its way down your face and you use your free hand to swipe under your eyes “i’m not anymore” you whisper to her “and that’s okay” the small smile on your face isn’t convincing at all, but it’s the best you’ve got “i’m so proud of you”

that seems to completely break jessie. her brave face crumbles in a matter of seconds, she finally lets the tears that have slowly been building stream down her face, choked sobs escaping her throat “th-is wasn’t what i wanted, i swear” she emphasised “i tried to find another way and i just couldn’t”

you run your fans soothingly up the length of her spine “baby i know, i know” you coo into her ear “but you’re gonna go to portland and you’re gonna have the fucking time of you life, jessie” you swipe your thumbs under her eyes “christine and janine are gonna take such good care of you”

“that doesn’t make me feel any better”

“but it makes me feel better” you mumble “knowing somebody is gonna have your back”

she leans her head on your shoulder silently, the hand that’s running up and down her back never pausing. the two of you sigh and catch your breath, both breathing deep to try to calm yourselves. you’ve broken up with people and been broken up with before, but none of them have ever made you feel the way you feel right now. you swear you can actually feel your heart breaking in your chest, splinter fine cracks splitting it open over and over again like you’re reliving the moment whilst still being in it. this is more then just some breakup, this is the love of your life, and you are actually losing her.

“you’re the one” she sniffles “this is temporary i swear, one day i’ll make you my wife and we’ll have a life together and this will all be worth it” the midfielder looks up at you from her position on your shoulder “there won’t be anyone else. not in this lifetime”

before you can even think of what to say you’re shaking your head in disagreement “no, no, no jess. you can’t treat this as a waiting period” you whisper forcefully, causing jessie’s eyes to well up again “you need to live your life without me, see all it has to offer! this is only your second professional contract you have no idea where you’ll end up–”

“with you. i’ll end up with you” she cuts you off fiercely and grips both your hands tightly “this move is for my career but my future is with you. i know what i’m talking about, y/n, please don’t treat me like i don’t”

she leaves you speechless and you can’t help but feel a bit guilty for the way you’re behaving. you’re not intentionally pushing her away, god only knows you want to wrap your arms around her and never let go, but you don’t want to hold her back.

“jess i swear i’m not, i just…” you pause and purse your lips “i just don’t want you to make up your mind so quickly, you don’t know what kind of people are in portland” it’s a weak attempt at a reason but you at least want to put the idea in her head. breakups are miserable, especially when you’re not going to have the support system you’ve been building for the past four years around you.

that’s what worried you the most, that perhaps sinc and janine wouldn’t be enough for jessie. you knew that the bond the three of them shared was unbreakable but they were no niamh.

jessie let’s go of your hands as her eyes go wide “do… do you want to see other people?” she whispers the question like she’s afraid of the answer and you feel your heart once again breaking

“no” you say sternly “what i want is for you to stay here with me so that i can put you in my pocket and keep you forever” you try to joke, earning at least a smile out of the woman in front of you “but this isn’t about me” you smile sadly.

she takes your hands again, running her finger over your currently unoccupied ring finger “one day it will be” she assures quietly before looking into your eyes. she lets go of your hands and grabs the sides of your face, not giving you any warning before she kisses you.

you’re both crying, and you can feel the heaviness of jessie’s heart, but that doesn’t matter. it doesn’t matter because she’s kissing you more fiercely then she ever has before, and she’s giving all the love she has for you back. jessie wants you to take it and to keep it all for yourself. she wants you to always have a part of her heart with you, even though you own all of it.

she wants to know that she’s not leaving you loveless when she gets on that plane.

you seperate from her, leaving about an inch of space between your lips “stay” you mumble

her eyes close momentarily “y/n–”

“jess, please” you cry “just tonight and then– then it’s over, i swear” you plead, almost beg, to her as you grip the hem of her shirt tightly.

“we’re meant to be breaking up” she sighs sadly

your hands ball up in her shirt “we are” you assure “but please let me have tonight”

jessie caresses your cheek lovingly, pudding stray bits of hair out of your face. her brown eyes droop as the sadness weighs them down, a fresh wave of tears spilling over her waterline. she kisses you harder than before, slowly standing and bringing you with her. you know that this is the best answer she can give you, that if she were to speak her voice would betray her and break.

“no one else” she says against your lips “my forever”

you smile sadly and wrap your arms around her neck as she hoists you up onto her waist. she walks her way to your bedroom blindly, having done this a thousand times by now, and lightly kicks open the door. instead of laying you down like she normally would, she sits you down on the edge and grasps your chin in between her thumb and forefinger.

“you’re so beautiful” she whispers, her thumb stroking your chin lightly as you look up at her through glassy eyes.

“just tonight, i swear” you whisper back to her. the room is clouded by sadness and all you want to do is keep her here with you. you want to be selfish and tell her that this will work through long distance and that the two of you can make it, but you know that’s not true.

the love is real and true between the two of you, but it’s also fierce and passionate and sometimes hard to handle. you and jessie both know that if you stayed together you’d eventually run yourselves and your careers into the ground, the distance would only break you. but right now she’s yours, even if she won’t be in twenty four hours, she is right now.

“just tonight” she murmurs

[juliluvhz]

dorky

Tasm!peter Parker x fem!reader

warnings :: Peter being a complete dork, fem reader, swearing, fluff fluff fluff, not proofread 😁

you stood up from the seat at peters desk, opening his door as he walked into his room, with the biggest smile on his face and a bag full of stuff in his hand

“hey Pete! what did you buy?” you asked him, pecking his cheek and sitting down on his bed. He sat next to you, putting the bag in between you both

Peter had been so excited for today because his aunt may promised to take him out to his favourite shop since when he was a kid where he brought all his dorky games from, but you thought it was adorable how he got all giddy when he got a new comic or video game. but anyways, you would’ve went with him if it weren’t for the small babysitting job you had got,so you decided to wait for him at his house

“okay! so first I brought 2 video games. I seen this one advertised and it looked really cool! you know the fighting one i told you about that I seen in the store when me and you last went just so we could look around? that one!”

he exclaims joyfully, waving it in your face to show you it, the name displayed across it in bright red letters

“oh, I do Pete! what other one did ya buy?”

you smiled at him sweetly, he pulled the other game out,showing it you

“this one is for my Nintendo, it’s called Minecraft it’s like a building game, loads of people have been playing it and it was on sale so aunt may brought it”

he explained to me, grabbing his Nintendo and inserting the cartridge before continuing with his little dork haul. I nodded along as he spoke, he looked so happy just to be speaking about the random shit he loves

“okay, anyways aunt may bought me 2 comic books to go with the one she brought me a few weeks ago because I finished my Batman ones and the other one, and they were on sale! There was loads of stuff on sale there”

he rambled on, you nodded along with his words occasionally and Peter was fine with it because he knew you didn’t know much about this kinda stuff so you’d rather just listen to him be happy

“did you get anything else?”

you asked him, he nodded at you and pulled a rubix cube out of the bag as if he didn’t have 20 in his drawer already

“another one? Pete you have millions of those”

you reply to him, chuckling a bit. He rolled his eyes and unboxed it, handing it to you

“scramble it up and see how quick I can solve it”

he said, turning around so he didn’t see what way he turned it. you nodded, working your magic and scrambling it up for a good few minutes

“okay, I’m done turn back around”

you stated, handing him back his rubix cube and turning on your little watch so you could give him

“you ready for me to go?”

he clutched the rubix cube, waiting for your approval to start unscrambling it

“okay, now, Peter!”

you exclaimed, Watchijg peters hands and your watch

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

46 seconds, was all it took til he yelled ‘finished’ and an excited cheer

“how quick as that?”

he asked, hope plastered over his face that he had passed his highest score of 47 seconds to which he accomplished

“46 seconds”

he looked at you with his mouth open, his eyes shining in happiness

“really?! Yes! Dove I beat my high score!”

he yelled as if he had just won the lottery. he picked you up by your waist and swung you around his room and then bringing you into a big hug, kissing you softly and then bringing you I to a big cuddle

“I’m so happyyyyyyy I’ve been tryna beat tjat for ages even if it is only by a second”

⋆

he mumbled into your neck causing you to giggle from his breath ticking your skin

“I’m happy for you pete”

you replied, kissing his cheeks

⋆⭒˚｡⋆⚝⊹₊ ⋆

didn’t know how to end this one teehee

hope it’s okay guys 😞😞

[theragethatisdesire]

much ado about nothing chapter 6 - plug!eren x reader - 18+!!!

DISCLAIMER: this post contains MATURE CONTENT that is intended only for those over 18. minors and ageless blogs, please do not read below the cut.

ummmmm HIII so sorry i know i still owe you guys a million drabbles and i haven't been posting as much but this chapter is just chock-full of drama and i'm so excited to share it bc hehehe it's a rollercoaster. also we should def stop listening to sasha. sneaky posting; have fun babies!!!! i cannot WAIT to hear your thoughts

specific cws: alcohol use, violence (like fist-fighting level not insane), mentions of drugs, swearing, incredibly awkward tension lol

-

“The course of true love never did run smooth.” A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare (Act I, Scene 1)

You’ve done a lot of partying in your days, but you never thought a hangover could float over your shoulders for damn near two weeks. Then again, maybe that rancid taste in your mouth is regret instead of the practical gallons of liquor you’d guzzled that night.

Historia tells you to delete the evidence, have a glass of wine with your friends, focus on your studies, put meaning back into the happy distractions that make up life. Sasha tells you to suck it up, download Tinder, do something other than wallow in your bed with nothing on but the fairy lights along your ceiling. Ymir tells you men aren’t worth embarrassing yourself for, maybe start swinging the other way, that she knows a few very pretty single ladies.

You meet all of their advice with a slow nod, sometimes a chuckle, put your head down, and go about your business, letting the shame follow you around like a little rain cloud from building to building around campus. Even your students have noticed something’s making you tick; Falco and Gabi left a package of Crumbl cookies in your office the other day, and for the first time, Zofia has begun to raise her hand in class. It’s heartwarming, really, but it doesn’t solve your problem.

Problems would be the better term for it. To start, there was your royal fuck-up with Eren. You had over-indulged and gotten a little too flirty to be “friends”, sure, it happens, but something had snapped in you when you saw Eren with that leggy blonde hanging all over him at the club.

Breeze. Even wearing naught but a skirt and some thin tights with the early winter wind whipping around your legs, just the thought of her name makes your blood boil. She was perfect, all bouncy and easygoing and cool, hippie clothes. To be fair, she was the one with the true claim on Eren; you had dug your own grave, far too confident in your ability to be just friends with someone so…so Eren.

Your friendship had been growing closer and closer by the passing day before that night, texting at nearly every minute of the day and spending time together wherever you could fit it in your full schedule. You had made plans to bake Christmas cookies together, even despite Eren’s protests that Christmas was a “capitalistic hellhole of a holiday season”, had acted out your favorite Shakespeare scenes in your pajamas, much to Eren’s amusement, and had made a habit of staying up late into the night watching and rewatching your favorite animes, heatedly debating characters. It had been butterfly-inducing, dizzying, perfect. Until you had indulged in one too many shots and humiliated yourself, that is.

Seeing Breeze all over Eren had made you realize the severity of your mistake trying to keep Eren in your life, realize the warm feeling blooming in your chest every time he grinned at you, all teeth and his little chin dimple, was decidedly much more than a platonic appreciation for a new friend. It turned out that you’d been right from the start; you weren’t his type, and to make matters worse, his actual taste in women had been thrust in your face unexpectedly.

When you had awoken the next morning, debating on whether to fall back asleep immediately or dash to the toilet, Historia had greeted you with a sorry smile, a cup of coffee, and a quiet word of advice to look through your phone. Knowing your drunken self, you pulled up your phone calls first, wanting to make sure you hadn’t accidentally Facetimed your mom to tell her how much fun you were having or something cringe-worthy of the sort. But no, of course it had to be much worse than that.

There was a phone call– to Eren. Your call log had recorded a one minute and thirty-six second phone call between you and Eren, one you obviously didn’t remember making.

“Please tell me you were with me when I called Eren,” you groan, so naive, “did I completely embarrass myself?”

Historia blushes. “Well, he didn’t answer, if it’s any consolation–”

“Oh, thank god–”

“But that didn’t exactly stop you,” Historia fiddles with the edge of her t-shirt, “you left him a voicemail.”

Even through your throbbing headache, you shoot right up out of bed at that. “What?! What did I say?”

“I don’t know,” Historia moans woefully, putting her hands over her face, “I’m sorry, I tried to stop you, but you ran off as soon as you started talking. By the time I caught up to you, you were already hanging up.”

“So, there’s a voicemail from drunk me on Eren’s phone, and neither of us have any idea what it says?”

“Correct.”

“My life fucking sucks.”

“It’s about to get a whole lot worse,” Historia says, throwing your sheets back and snuggling beside you in the bed, burrowing her face in your shoulder, “check your texts.”

And oh, had it gotten worse. Your drunken, foolish text sat in your outbox, unanswered, unread, and inexcusable. Six months later and you were right back where you started, begging a ghost of a man to explain why he couldn’t love you.

> hi luke, i’m sorta ficked up, but i misz you. why did yoi never call me???? you owe me at leasttg that. a fcking explanation,. 

Storming through campus, coat tucked around your shoulders against the biting chill, you wince at the memory. You haven’t deleted the unanswered text yet, keeping it stale in your phone as a reminder of what happens when you get too attached to people you know aren’t good for you.

You thought you’d be more heartbroken over the text to Luke and its lack of an answer, but surprisingly, you’re not. It’s Eren haunting your thoughts, Luke’s just the placeholder for all of your anger at this point. Eren isn’t to blame for all of this, you are, and that’s why you can’t bring yourself to face him, can’t bring yourself to answer any of the hesitant texts he’s sent you since that god-awful night.

You’re not in college anymore, you have to keep reminding yourself. You’re twenty-four, and you’d like to think you’re past the phase of your life where you’re handing your heart out to anyone that passes like it’s a Costco sample. You aren’t even sure if you want Luke anymore at this point, if you could even speak to him if you bumped into him these days. He had, admittedly, treated you like dirt, wrenched your heart out from your chest and left it on the sidewalk to collect dust. At least you can hate him, hate what he did to you, hate that you’re stuck on him like a broken record skipping to the same chorus every few weeks.

You can’t hate Eren, though. You can be disappointed in him for entertaining his terrible ex-girlfriend, not aloud of course because he hadn’t actually mentioned her to you himself, but you can do it internally. Even that isn’t enough to make you feel better; not only had he not trusted you, not felt safe or comfortable enough with you to share the skeletons in his closet, but he was likely zooming full-speed down a dead-end street, the way Sasha tells the story. Your heart aches for him out of a painful mixture of pining and fervent concern.

Your only solution so far has been to dive headfirst into your coursework and your students; it hasn’t done much to distract you, but with finals on the horizon, it’s not the worst method of coping you’ve come up with in your days.

Your newly invigorated dedication to your work and your courses are the cause of you dragging yourself across campus to 104, desperate for caffeine and practically a corpse after two weeks of near-constant self-shaming keeping you up at night.

The smell of the coffee shop, earthy and warm, hits you almost as hard as the blasting heat inside, and you practically slouch upon entering, the weight of the cozy atmosphere cocooning you like a warm blanket. If there’s one place that will always feel like a hug, it’s 104 Beans, your coffee shop of choice (and obligation, considering the small size of your campus) for the last six years.

Pieck, your favorite barista, greets you in her typical dreamy manner. “Hi love, same as usual?”

“Hey Pieck,” you greet her with a weary smile. As you dig around in your bag for your wallet, the extent of your exhaustion versus the amount of work you have left to do surfaces in your brain. “Actually…no, not my usual. Can I get a quad shot Americano?”

Pieck pauses where she’s scribbling onto a paper cup with a Sharpie, eyes flitting back up to you in disbelief. “A quad shot Americano?”

“A quad shot Americano.”

“Jesus,” Pieck sighs, eyes wide, “work’s that rough, huh? Black coffee not going to cut it?”

“The shakes will be worth it,” you confirm, swiping your card through the machine.

“Can I please make it a cappuccino then? You’re going to need something creamy to get all that espresso down,” Pieck looks back up at you, eyes pleading.

“Fine,” you sigh, “but–”

“Almond milk, I know,” Pieck winks at you, sliding your cup down the assembly line of baristas working amongst the hissing of the espresso machine and the pleasant, folky music floating from the speakers. “We’re a little busy, so give me five and I’ll bring it over to you.”

You smile gratefully and collect your things, turning to scout out what’s hopefully a quiet table in the corner, when a pair of arms tossed around your shoulders stops you. The familiar scent of fruity perfume tickles your nose, and you slump against the tight grip in relief.

“You made it out of the house!” Sasha’s eyes glow with pride, as if you’d just run a marathon.

“It’s not like I’m a hermit,” you roll your eyes, “I have class five days a week.”

“You don’t go anywhere besides class or your house though, so you still get participation points,” Sasha grins, shaking your shoulders, “how are you feeling?”

“Well…”

Sasha’s expression crumples. “Still that bad, huh?”

“The Luke thing was pathetic of me, but honestly, it’s not haunting me as much as I thought it would,” you admit, pausing for a moment to allow Sasha to grab her coffee from the barista when her name is called, “the one thing that’s really sticking with me is the Eren issue.”

“Like, the voicemail? Or Breeze?”

“Both. I would give anything to know what that voicemail said, but whatever was going on between us aside, I just hope he’s okay, y’know? With Breeze back in the picture and everything.”

Sasha bites into her bottom lip and glances around the coffee shop, checking every face at every table. You know that face; she’s hiding something.

“What?”

“What?” Sasha cocks her head innocently. You nearly smack her.

“You’re not telling me something.”

“Uh…okay, yeah, I’m not, but I’m not sure if I should. I mean, you’re actually out of the house–”

“I leave my house plenty!”

“You know what I mean,” Sasha scoffs, “it’s just…if you’re feeling better, I don’t want to throw you back into the deep end.”

You have no words for that, absolutely despising the way that she is completely correct. Whatever information lies behind Sasha’s bitten lip could either make you feel a hundred times better or a hundred times worse, and you’re stuck debating on whether you should gamble or not when Sasha makes the decision for you.

 “Fine, you wore me down,” she sighs.

“I didn’t even say anything,” you point out, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to,” Sasha says, annoyed, “you have this, like, fucking puppy dog look. Makes me sick. Get your coffee, I’ll find a table, and we can talk.”

Like clockwork, the moment Sasha steps away, Pieck grabs your attention and hands your coffee over along with an extra hot cup half-full of steamed almond milk. You look at her questioningly, and she merely shrugs.

“That’s a lot of espresso. I know you’re in, like, your depressed writer phase right now, but I figured a little extra milk would come in handy.”

“You’re the best,” you smile at her affectionately, thinking absentmindedly that you should invite her out to Scout’s sometime. Before she can respond, Pieck’s gaze lands on something just over your shoulder. You can smell him even before you turn around, musky cologne and a little hint of weed. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Hey Pieck. Usual?” His throaty timbre cuts through the thick air, sharp as a knife. Pieck nods politely and gets to work on his coffee, forgoing a trip to the cash register. That tracks; Pieck’s hooded eyes are bloodshot more often than not.

“Excuse me,” you mutter, trying to sneak around him, but Eren’s quicker than you, side-stepping to cut you off.

“Hey stranger,” he smiles down at you, but it’s tense, nervous, “trying to run off on me?”

“Didn’t even realize that was you, sorry,” you lie, offering him a thin smile in return. You spot Sasha gaping at you across the cafe, waving her arms wildly and mouthing What the fuck?. You can’t help but feel similarly.

“It’s been awhile, how are you?”

“M’fine, just really busy with school.” God, you hate this, this awkward small talk barely parsing its way through the jungle of things left unsaid between you two. “You?”

“Fine,” Eren looks around awkwardly, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Good,” you speak directly into your coffee, unable to stomach the emerald green peering down at you.

“You know,” Eren’s words come out quite like he can’t believe he’s saying them, “I kinda thought you were avoiding me.”

“Did you?” Your voice is caught in your throat, coming out in a pathetic squeak. Has he heard the voicemail? The startling turn the conversation’s taken must be visible all over your face, because Sasha’s flailing arms beckoning you over to the table grow more urgent.

“You haven’t texted me back, haven’t seen you in a couple weeks,” Eren’s incredibly focused on his shoes, kicking one Vans sneaker idly back and forth on the floor and making a squeaking sound, “so yeah, sort of.”

“I’m busy,” you deadpan, praying to any god you can remember the name of that you’ll just disintegrate right where you stand. Eren meets your eyes again, smirks disbelievingly.

“You said that.”

Something in his tone annoys you, something about his insinuation that he knows you’re blatantly lying, that he’s teasing you over your embarrassment, ignites a little flame in your chest. You scowl at him.

“I mean, you must be pretty busy too.”

“Why’s that?”

“Breeze just got back into town, didn’t she?” No going back now. Eren’s face blanches for a moment, features growing pale, but he manages to school his face back into that nonchalant pout that you want to slap right off his face.

“Historia told you?” He doesn’t sound surprised; in face, he sounds almost expectant, like he knew you’d find out at some point. It stakes the embers burning in your chest.

“She’s my best friend, so yeah.” This feels like an argument. It shouldn’t be an argument, but your clipped tone is pushing it in that direction. You’ve spent the last two weeks reminding yourself that you have no claim on Eren, no reason to be hurt or upset, but here you are, feeling that familiar rush of anger coursing through your veins.

“I mean, we haven’t been hanging out or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Who said I was worried?”

Eren’s eyebrows knit together, a little frown playing at his mouth. “I don’t know, I mean–”

“Look, Sasha’s waiting for me,” you point over Eren’s shoulder to the little two-top table, where Sasha has stilled within the blink of an eye, shooting Eren an innocent smile and a little wave. “I’d love to catch up, but maybe another time.”

“It was good seeing you.” Eren looks confused, albeit, a little bit hurt, and you hate it. Why is that so much worse, even worse than the sight of him with Breeze hanging off of his arm? His little pout puts a needle through your ballooning anger, and you deflate, sighing.

“I’ll see you around, I’m sure.”

“Yeah,” Eren takes his coffee from Pieck and ambles towards the door, sparing you one last glance over his shoulder. Unwilling to hold his eyes any longer, you scurry to your table, just having realized that Pieck forgot to put a coffee sleeve around your cup and that it’s been burning your hand for the last several minutes.

“Ow! Shit!” You practically crash land across from Sasha, dropping your cups in synchronicity and shaking your red palms around in the air to cool them down.

“What was that?” Sasha hisses, leaning across the table so viciously that your drinks nearly topple over.

“He just showed up!”

“You didn’t have to talk to him.”

“I didn’t try to. He just, like, materialized behind me and started talking. What was I supposed to do? Run away?”

“Little shit,” Sasha swears, glaring at the door as if her anger can shoot through it like a laser beam, cut Eren down where he’s surely almost a block down the street by now, “what did he say?”

“He asked if I’ve been avoiding him," you say, twirling your wooden coffee stirrer through your drink idly and trying to look as if your heart’s not still beating at what’s sure to be a dangerous rate.

“Well, haven’t you?”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t about to tell him that. He got all smug about it,” you scoff, the replayed scene of Eren’s self-assured smirk wiping off of his face bringing you a little bit of petty satisfaction, “until I brought up Breeze.”

Sasha’s eyes grow wide, and she looks around the coffee shop again, as if Eren or Breeze might come popping out of one of the large potted plants in the corners. “That’s actually what I wanted to tell you. What did he say about it?”

“What did you hear?” You narrow your eyes at her, and she narrows hers back.

“You first.”

“He didn’t say much, just looked really surprised that I brought her up. Said they haven’t been hanging out.”

“That’s bullshit,” Sasha snorts, rolling her eyes. Something in your chest that had begun to glimmer, something akin to hope, feels like it just got a bucket of ice-water poured over it. You cock your head, furrow your brows.

“How would you know?”

“Because Hitch and I grabbed some coffee–”

“Hitch? I thought that was a–”

“Okay, don’t crucify me, I know,” Sasha holds her hands up defensively, “it was supposed to be a one night stand, but…I don’t know. She’s cool.”

“Cool?” Even through your desperation for anything Eren-related after a two week drought, you smile knowingly at her. Sasha’s not hard to read, especially when her face goes bright red from chin to forehead.

“Yes,” she hisses, “cool. Anyway, we came by a few days ago, and Eren was here. With Breeze.”

“I mean, I expected as much.”

You’re lying, you’re so lying. The only consolation you’ve had over the last two weeks that you’re not a complete moron is the hope that maybe, just maybe, Eren’s just as forlorn as you, laying around and wishing his phone would buzz with your name on it, wishing you’d pop up at his door with a bag of popcorn ready for movie night. Instead, your worst suspicions have been confirmed, and not only is Eren very much involved with Breeze again, but he had lied straight to your face about it. Ouch.

“They weren’t like, holding hands or anything. Honestly, it looked like they were fighting.”

“Well, what did Hitch say about it?” You don’t even know if you want to know, but with your brain short-circuiting inside your skull, your mouth has free reign to seek out information that will be about as soothing as lemon juice on a papercut.

“Eren won’t talk to any of them about her,” Sasha burns her tongue on her coffee and sucks in a sharp breath, “not even Armin, apparently. She said he’s been moody lately.”

“Wonder why,” you mumble, mulling all of this new information over in your head. Breeze is bad for him, makes him crazy, you already know that. But you didn’t think it would start this soon– you feel like if anything, he should be ecstatic that his long-lost love has finally come back to him. And he can stop trying to replace her, your brain adds helpfully, only doubling the watery ache swelling in your chest.

“Who cares?” Sasha rips open a granola bar, biting into it and continuing to speak with her mouth full. “That’s why you’ve got to stop avoiding him.”

“Huh? That seems like the opposite–”

“No,” Sasha cuts you off, an air of authority in her normally chipper voice, “you’re not going to cower in the corner just because Eren’s back with his shitty ex girlfriend–”

“It’s not just because of Breeze,” you correct her, “it’s because of that voicemail. I have no idea what I said. There’s a lot that’s contributing to my self-induced isolation, trust me.”

“Regardless,” Sasha mouths around another bite of her granola bar, “the only thing that will make you feel better is being around him.”

“That sounds a little contradictory–”

“Trust me,” Sasha interrupts you again, “the best way to make a guy come around is to be up in his face, flaunting how hot and single you are, and to not give him an ounce of your attention. It’s a tried and true method, I promise.”

It turns out that you are a beacon for those with bad ideas, evidently, because later that night, you’ve ended up at Scout’s, cuddled up against the bar with Sasha despite Historia’s fervent protests. If Historia shows up later, just to “check in” (read: see what’s come of Sasha’s terrible plan), you won’t be surprised. She’s prone to being the mom friend and the harbinger of gossip, but she hasn’t shown face quite yet. It’s just you, Sasha, and a handful of regulars, sipping unreasonably cold beers and trying to act as if the early December chill hasn’t rattled you to your bones.

“This is a stupid idea,” you murmur against the lip of your bottle, trying not to seem as unnerved as you are, even after an hour of waiting and sipping. Sasha scoffs beside you, picking through your near-empty basket of peanut shells in search of a full pod.

“It’s not. He’ll be here.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you dragged me out. It only took a week for me to start missing this place,” you run a thoughtful hand along the varnished wooden bartop, “but I’m just still not sure about this whole seeing-Eren-on-purpose thing.”

Before Sasha can answer, the door swings open to reveal the man in question: Eren, accompanied by Armin and Connie, as always, and sporting his standard uniform. Black hoodie, slouchy khaki pants that are tightened around the ankles, and his beat-up Vans.

You nearly sigh into your drink at how delicious he looks, only stopping when the little voice in your head reminds you that the voicemail you’d left him exists. Friends– no, strangers now? The concept of labeling your bizarre, gray-areas-only relationship with Eren brings a chuckle up your throat, one that spills onto the bar.

You can feel him watching you, but to your simultaneous surprise and disappointment, he gives you space, sidling up to the bar a few seats down from where you and Sasha are occupying a couple of bar stools. When Connie throws up a cheerful hand in greeting to you, you tentatively wave back, only for Armin to grab Connie’s attention and turn him toward the bar.

“Ha!” Sasha says triumphantly, looking at you with her eyes glowing like you’re supposed to have reached a revelation of some sort. “See?”

“Did you plot this with Connie?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion.

“No, I’m just a genius, that’s all.”

“I feel like your theory is being proven wrong, not right. He’s not even sitting near us.”

“Because you have the upper hand!” Sasha grins.

“The upper hand?”

“Yeah, he’s giving you some space so you can make the first move, get what you want out of him.”

“And what do I want out of him?” You nearly growl in your frustration, feeling silly sitting exactly four barstools down from Eren with him running through your mind as if he isn’t close enough to just hop up and hug. It’s a genuine question more than a rhetorical one; you’re not even sure what you expect out of him anymore. Another fuck? A fancy date night? A lifetime worth of radio silence, as if Eren isn’t the person you’ve connected better with than nearly anyone else in your romantic history?

Sasha’s brows furrow. “Don’t you know?”

“No! That’s what I was trying to tell you!”

“Oh,” Sasha frowns, rubs her chin, “we should have figured that part out before we came, I guess.”

“Sasha!” You whisper-hiss, ever mindful of what you’re sure to be prying ears only a few feet away. “So you have no plan?”

Sasha stumbles, stutters, and eventually, flushes bright red with a shrug. “Okay, fine, I have no plan. But at least it’s something to break up your routine of laying in bed eating chips and moping around the library.”

“You’re such a bitch.” You roll your eyes, but you don’t mean it, not really. Regardless of how things stand, at the very least you can sneak little glances at Eren, take in how good he looks– no, you correct yourself firmly. You hopped off that train of your own accord, and you’re better for it.

With some verbal manhandling, you goad Sasha into a lull of small talk, classes, anything that comes to mind. A pair of eyes finds you, not the emerald that keeps you up at night, but a pair of hazel old-and-new eyes draw to you, and you can feel the scratch of an unwelcome gaze on your skin.

“Floch’s here,” you state the obvious, sipping your drink and giving no physical indication that you’ve noticed him, staring straight ahead as you mutter to Sasha.

“Christ, this was not a good idea,” Sasha groans, face-palming.

“Wow, I sure wish that someone had suggested this was a bad idea, wouldn’t that have been nice?”

“Shut up,” Sasha says, peeking warily over her shoulder, “I think that’s Hitch in the corner, too.”

You frown, confused at the hunched, anxious change in her posture. “Why are you being weird? Go say hey.”

“I’m not abandoning you!”

“Oh, shut it. Why are you really being weird?”

“I, uh…” Sasha twirls her beer around on the counter, blushing, “I haven’t texted her back in like, four or five days.”

“Sasha! You like her, I can tell. What’s gotten into you?”

“It was supposed to be a one-night thing,” Sasha moans, letting her face fall dramatically into her hands, “and then it was movie nights and coffee and just…way beyond casual hooking up. I like her, but…I don’t know! I panicked.”

You chew on her admission for a second, selfishly comparing Sasha’s situation to your own. Was that what you were doing with Eren? No, surely not, but was that what he was doing with you? You knew he had loved Breeze, that she had wrecked him, but maybe…just maybe some small part of you wants to hope that he’s moved on, that the coffee shop sighting was a fluke.

You shoo Sasha in Hitch’s direction, demanding she run over to apologize and make nice with Hitch, partially to save Sasha’s first shot at a real relationship in years and partially because you want to stew alone with your thoughts. Before you can get too deep into your black hole of what ifs, a familiar presence is sliding into Sasha’s seat, grinning lewdly.

You sigh; it was only a matter of time before he sought you out.

“What do you want, Forster?”

“Last name only? Ouch,” Floch places a hand over his heart, drumming the fingers of his other hand on the countertop. You recognize his demeanor immediately: pupils blown wide, buzzing to the brim with nervous energy. Floch’s always dabbled in party drugs, part of why you could only stand to be around him in small doses back when you were hooking up.

“Are you coked out right now?” Mindful of Levi’s hovering presence behind the bar, you keep your voice to a low hiss.

“So you can’t call me by my first name, but you can ask such personal questions? Jesus, you really are full of it, aren’t you?”

“Floch,” you nearly groan in frustration, “I thought I made it perfectly clear the last time I saw you that I’m not interested.”

“Why are you being so mean to me, hm?” Floch snakes a hand around your shoulders, jostling you until your face is mere inches from his. You’re more than aware of a pair of green eyes nearly boring a hole in your forehead, and you feel a pang of regret that you sent Sasha away so quickly, remembering far too late that Hitch’s table doesn’t offer a great view of where you’re seated at the bar.

“I’m not being mean,” you try to push at him, but he’s locked around you, “I’m just not interested.”

“Stop being such a bitch, Jesus Christ,” Floch finally lets you shove him away from you, but he’s far from done, “when did you get so stuck up, huh?”

“Floch. Keep your voice down, and walk away.” You try to warn him; Floch may be a pain in your ass, but you’d like to believe that he’s not a bad guy, deep down. You’re too late, however. 

Eren’s materialized between you and Floch before you can blink, before you can even get another word out. His sudden presence forces you out of your barstool, stepping around him to get a better read on what the hell he thinks he’s doing. Eren seems not to notice you trying to insert yourself between him and Floch, and the look on his face makes you step back momentarily.

He looks terrifying. Eren’s nostrils are flaring, eyes blown wide and jaw clenched tight. He’s taking full advantage of his height, glaring down at Floch with such menace that if looks could kill, Floch would already be laid out on the floor.

“Get the fuck out of here, dude. She said no.”

“What are you, her little guard dog?” Floch, infamous for never knowing what’s best for him, scoffs at Eren’s incredibly intimidating posture.

“Maybe I am,” Eren sneers, “I’m damn sure not going to sit there and let you speak to her like that.”

“Who’s this loser?” Connie’s to your right now, gesturing to Floch. You don’t miss the telltale clenching of Eren’s hands by his side, and it hits your dizzied mind what’s going on. Eren’s going to end up swinging if you don’t interfere, and Connie’s there for backup. 

“Floch, please.” You reach a feeble hand up to Floch’s chest, trying to gently push him in the other direction.

In the blink of an eye, Floch’s grabbing you by the wrist hard enough to solicit a yelp from your lips, throwing your arm away from him with a look of disgust.

“Oh, so now you want to touch me, bitch?”

No sooner has Floch’s hand released your arm than Connie’s got his arms wrapped around you, yanking you out of the crossfire. Amidst a series of gasps, Eren grabs Floch around the back of the neck, pins him face-first to the bar. 

“Jaeger!” Levi barks sharply, darting over to the scene of the commotion.

“Is that what gets you off, huh?” Eren’s nearly nose-to-nose with Floch, whose busted lip is twisted in a grimace and dribbling little bits of blood onto the varnished bartop. “Calling women bitches when they don’t want your little dick?”

“Let him go, Eren,” Armin tries to intervene, having already dashed over from his barstool. You want to back him up, but you’re frozen where you’re pinned to Connie’s chest, trembling in his arms. You know Eren’s a little rough-and-tumble, but this, seeing it in real life, is much more terrifying than you could have imagined.

“What the hell? Are you okay?” You can hear Sasha’s voice from beside you, close enough to touch but distant in comparison to where your vision is zeroed in on Eren’s grip on the back of Floch’s neck.

“Answer me!” Eren rears Floch back a few inches and slams him against the bar again. Floch curses under his breath, wriggles fruitlessly under Eren’s weight.

“Get the fuck off me, Jaeger!”

“You fucking wish,” Eren hisses, tightening his grip further, “now apologize to my girl before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

“Eren,” you find your voice again, shaking out of Connie’s grip. You fist your hands into Eren’s hoodie sleeves, tugging hard enough to get his attention. “He’s not worth it. Let him go.”

“Listen to her, Jaeger,” Levi’s already-deep voice is stained with warning.

When you pull at his sleeve a little harder, Eren turns to you, eyes still blown wide and teeth bared. It startles you, but you hold firm, setting your own jaw and shaking your head.

“Let. Him. Go. Now, Eren.” You’re not sure how you’ve managed to muster up the conviction in your voice, but you’re grateful for it, as it seems to shake Eren back into himself. Eren slowly releases Floch and in the same easy motion, he guides you behind him with one long, strong arm.

“You,” Levi points accusingly at Floch, “out.”

Floch’s jaw drops. “I didn’t even–”

“Out.” Levi’s tone leaves no room for argument, and Floch seems to understand at least that. He turns his glare back to you and Eren, scowling deeply.

“The next time I see you, Jaeger, it’s fucking over.”

“Get lost before you make me fucking embarrass you,” Eren says, voice dripping with venom. Floch shakes his head, lets his gaze land on you. A chilling smile breaks over his features.

“Next time, sweetheart.”

“Get the fuck out of here already, bro,” Connie snaps, pointing towards the exit. Floch takes his leave, sauntering towards the door with all the confidence of someone who hadn’t just been pinned against the countertop. A heavy, staticky silence falls over the bar.

“If I see you fighting in here again, it’s over.” Levi’s cold eyes fall on Eren, who nods curtly in understanding. Eren brushes his hands through his hair, rests a hand on the bun at the back of his head. Something strange is coursing through your body; something that tastes like anger, burns like heartbreak, falls bitter on your tongue like envy.

“Are you okay?” Sasha appears at your side again, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Floch’s such a psycho, I’m not even surprised he picked a fight.”

You nod numbly, eyes never leaving Eren. He finally looks back down at you, none of the heat having left his eyes.

“What the fuck was that?” It takes you a moment to realize that it’s you speaking, you throwing those words up the inches from your mouth to Eren’s. Eren’s face contorts into a frown.

“What do you mean? He was bothering you, wasn’t he?”

“So you try to fight him?” You seethe. Maybe it is anger, this bizarre, foreign emotion tingling at the tips of your fingers. No, that’s not quite it, you’re not angry you’re just…confused. Hurt that Eren’s frolicking around with Breeze, doing whatever he pleases, and yet, he’s jumping into bar fights to save you from the tangible evidence of your past.

“What do you expect me to do when someone talks to you like that?” Eren hisses back, eyes narrowed.

Sasha’s backed away from the two of you now; you’re aware of your friends staring at you, noses scrunched as they try to figure out exactly what’s happening now. You wish you had an answer to give them, but all you can muster is this heartache shooting out of your mouth in the form of daggers.

“I don’t need you,” you spit, “I don’t need your protection.”

“It didn’t exactly look like you had that handled,” Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, and what are you? My knight in shining fucking armor? Don’t you have other damsels in distress waiting for you?” It’s too far, you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth, but the liquid courage Sasha had insisted upon is making your tongue sharper than you’d anticipated.

Eren rears back from where he’s hunched to meet you on your level, nostrils flaring again. Before you can utter another word, he’s got an arm thrown around your shoulders none-too-gently, practically dragging your stumbling feet towards the exit.

“Outside.”

[mlm-writer]

Home (Peter Parker x GN!Reader)

Pairing:  Peter Parker (TASM) x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Audiences (except for one swear word) Words: 1652 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 2 - Love Confession Tags: college AU, you're both studying mechanical engineering, Peter is a genius, you're just ken, fluff, kinda cheesy and kissing

It’s always something. You can never have a normal exam week, where you just spend your days in the library surrounded by fellow students, mutually fuelled by caffeine and stress. Supervillain of the week literally burned down the public library and there was an alien spacecraft that crashed into your favourite café. It felt like you still had a million chapters to read and another five thousand words to write for an essay and not to forget that your stupid project partner still has not even opened the Google Slides link you sent them. 

A long sigh, mixed with a frustrated growl left you as you once again couldn’t find a single spot on campus to sit down and study. It was always crowded like this during exam week. If you wanted a good spot, you better come to campus at 6:30am, but who had the energy for that? Fortunately for you, there was a small pebble on the road that led through the fields of yellowed grass between the main building and the main gate. You kicked it as hard as you could, letting all your woes leave you through your foot and into that little rock. It flew forward and - unexpectedly - up. “Oh shit!” You exclaimed as you followed its trajectory with your eyes. It was going straight for someone’s head, but before you could tell the brunet to watch out, he turned around and caught the pebble midair. 

When he was turned around, you recognised him. Out of all people for that pebble to almost hit, it just had to be your crush. “Peter!” You called out to him as you jogged over. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to kick it your way… good catch by the way.” 

Peter held the pebble in his fist and smiled at you; he was so cute when he did that. “Oh hey!” He beamed at you. When you complimented his catch, he hid his hands behind him and avoided eye contact. “Thanks, I got uh… good reflexes.” He cleared his throat and then looked at you. “Already done with studying for the day?”

You let out another frustrated sigh. “Ha! I wish. I came here to study, but it is fuller than a Blackpink concert stadium here. Guess I’ll have to settle for my tiny desk in my shoe-box dorm room.” 

Peter snorted at your comparison. He seemed to want to say something, but he was hesitant about it. “Uh…” You raised your brows at him, awaiting his words. “I just uh… finished my final presentation for the thermodynamics course-”

“Oh how did that go?” “Got an A, but that’s not important-”

“Not important? Bro, you’re kidding, that's great!”

Peter was getting a little red. You liked how humble he was in spite of how smart he was. He was a little awkward, but during presentations, he often had his own flavour of charisma that made you listen instantly. He was good on the eyes too…

“Uhm, thank you… what I wanted to say is uh… I’m going home now to study. My aunt won’t be home until late and you’re free to join me at my dinner table - to study, I mean, but you’re welcome to join for dinner too of course!” 

You kept forgetting Peter still doesn’t live on his own. Sometimes you envied him, sometimes you were happy with your freedom. “Are you sure? That’d be really cool. Studying together is way more fun than on my own anyway. Oh, do you maybe have notes for our material science course that I could borrow?” 

A little later those notes were in front of you as you were seated at Peter’s dinner table. You had never been in his home before, but the Earthy tones and natural lights just made it feel like a home. There was love in the pictures that decorated the place, there was personality in the old books that scattered the house, one of a shelf on the wall, another one next to a vase with flowers, another on the side table by the couch… 

“Here you go!” Peter put a glass of juice next to you. You thanked him with a smile. You did not realise how your warm smile fit right in that room, how it made Peter’s heart leap and his stomach flip upside down. He just sat down across from you like there was nothing going on. 

You managed to concentrate for a good half hour, but after that your eyes drifted up and caught onto a sight that was way better than a schematic drawing of how tension affects different materials. Peter had this cute frown of concentration on his face, a pencil balancing between his lips as he typed something up on his laptop. He abruptly paused and looked straight at you. The change was so sudden; your eyes widened, before you forced them back onto Peter’s notes. Your face felt hot. Peter definitely caught you staring and you had no idea what he thought of it. Did he suspect you fantasised about kissing him whenever he info-dumped on you? Did he know how his smile could light up your whole day? Did he have a clue or was he just that oblivious? Most smart people were.

Suddenly, Peter let his head fall onto the dinner table. “I can’t do this anymore!” He exclaimed. You gave him a worried look, not that he saw it with his face planted in his notes. 

“Wow, I didn’t know even the genius Peter Parker suffered from exam breakdown,” you commented. You genuinely thought Peter thought exams were a breeze. His grades were all exemplary, except that one time he was down with the flu so bad, you didn’t see him for three weeks. 

“That’s not it! I’m-” he lifted his head. He was clearly upset, but as he rose from his seat to walk back and forth along the kitchen counters, he couldn’t put a single sentence together. He had paced the length of his kitchen at least five times, before he spoke up again. “This is so not how I envisioned this going, but I feel like I am gonna burst if I don’t say this now!” He walked over to you and, in an incredible display of strength, turned your chair with you on it to face away from the table. His arms were caging you, holding the back of the old, wooden furniture. “I’m so in love with you and…” He seemed to realise what he said and physically backed up until his back was against the wall. 

You didn’t know what to say. It was hard to believe your ears. You just stared at him in shock as Peter did that thing you adored so much – rattling on like someone who did not prepare enough text to fill up their 30-minutes presentation. “And I don’t need you to feel the same, sorry, that was coming off a little strong, but I mean it. It’s like I’m in pain when I’m around you and I can’t hold you. Wait no that’s cheesy. Is it? I don’t even know, you make me wanna say cheesy stuff!” Peter was suddenly very interested in the couch in the living room, his eyes never leaving it as more words poured uncontrollably from his mouth. “When you look at me all my instincts are telling me you feel the same, but it could be wishful thinking, but I am so sure, but what if I’m wrong, I mean if I AM wrong, then that’s fine, I just…” 

You stood up. Peter immediately shut up, eyes shifting to the floor. He looked like a child caught with his fingers in the cookie jar. You took a deep breath to settle your nerves and then closed the distance quickly, putting one hand on the wall behind Peter. Your classmate froze up and you wanted to relieve him of his nerves, but you had your own that clogged up your throat and wound your vocal cords tight like a scrunchie holding a very heavy ponytail. “Whenever you talk, I never want you to shut up, but when I look at your lips moving, I cannot think about anything but making you shut up with my own.” 

Peter looked up, glistening eyes pulling you in. You were scanning each other’s faces, both scared this was all just some prank or a dream. “I’m going to ruin this moment by talking about material science if you don’t shut me up right now,” he almost whispered. You chuckled and put an arm around him, pulling him against you until your lips met. It was like coming home, like hot chocolate in winter, like a cosy blanket by the window on a rainy day. 

Your lips touched like they were meant to do so from day one. It was your first kiss together and yet it felt like you had been doing this for ages. Your whole body felt like it was going haywire and the look in Peter’s eyes when you parted did not help. Neither of you said anything, kissing in the kitchen over and over again, as if you were memorising each other’s taste, while you should be memorising that schematic you still had open on your laptop. 

When you finally found it in you to take a step back from Peter, you were both smiling giddily at each other. You broke the silence between you two, before Peter did. “All jokes aside, I actually do need you to talk to me about material science. I think I’ll be much more concentrated when you explain it.” 

Peter let out a chuckle. “Ok, but when exams are over, you are buying me dinner.” 

You slowly walked back to your chair. “I’ll even throw in a movie as well,” you replied, suddenly feeling a lot better about your exams. 

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