#angsty argument where the girl leaves and the boy is mad at her for leaving??

[poetsblvd]

fluorescent adolescent has me curious because i love arctic monkeys!! (i'm guessing you got that title from the song oop-)

100% from the song !! IM CURRENTLY OBSESSED !!

but okay yes this is also not written but the idea is there !!

so it is very much based of the song and it’s very enemies to lovers + brothers best friend ( aka charles x verstappen!reader 🤭 ) where they meet a year or so after a one night stand before she leaves for college and suddenly she’s back and he’s in his slag era and she’s like oop red flag must steer clear! but he’s very SHE’S BACK AND I CANT BREATHE NOW?? and as the song goes it’s very much ‘oh, the boy's a slag, the best you ever had, the best you ever had is just a memory.’

ps. my summaries are horrid i deeply apologise !!

[motzgurke]

I know this idea has been done so feel free to decide to not write it but if you want it, my request is a angst to fluff set after the training exercise with Class 1B of Class 1A becoming worried for the reader after she begins to distance herself and focusing all her free time on training and studying/being alone in her room because Monoma realized her crush on Todoroki and manipulated her self doubt by saying that Todoroki and Yao-Momo like each other so she wants to be happy for them because they’re her friends and basically her classmates (you can decide who doesn’t backdown) set the reader straight and it all ends well?

That was a lot of work and I got a bit lost during the process, so I hope you don’t mind straying a tiny bit from your request. <3 The angsty part was so fun to write, but at the same time, I felt bad for making reader-chan go through this. The next one will probably be a more pure fluff as an apology for the hurt.

(And btw, I like Neito. He’s a funny character and making him seem more awful than usual was a bit hard for me )

Angst, swearing, mentions of blood, self-doubt, and of course some fluff because I can’t let my boii and his friends suffer ☹

Words: 5435

“I wonder why he would care, given that a gem like Yaoyorozu is constantly doting around him how could you even compare? She is smarter, prettier, and generally more likable than you. Do yourself and them a favor and let them be happy, you are no more than a dispensable variable in their calculation.”

Fuck him. Fuck his opinion and fuck this day. You stared at the ceiling and put the thermal pack on your cheek, a sharp piercing keeping you from falling into unconsciousness despite your wishes for it. And if it was just to ignore his damn grin, to forget his fucking words as that bastard had copied your quirk, hitting you full-on with your own force, the force that was meant to wipe the cunning grin from his lips.

Up until you ran into Monoma everything was going according to plan more or less, even Shinso wasn’t able to stop your team from taking this win, but you ruined it for them despite their victory they had lost you so early, leaving them short-handed while you punched the bars of the cage until your knuckles bled and deep dark red soaked into your gloves.

You hated this guy, you hated him for downgrading your class, for enjoying seeing your friends fail and most of all, you hated yourself for listening to him. Why would you even care about his mad speeches in the first place?

Because he hit your weak spot. And that weak spot was watching you fail from the sidelines as Izuku, Minoru, Mina, and Ochako had to make up for your weak mind.

It was devastating, you knew you were strong and under normal circumstances, Monoma would be no match for you, but that sly bastard somehow managed to throw you off guard, hitting right where it would hurt you the most.

Your relationship with Shoto started only a few weeks ago, everything was so new and the feeling endlessly overwhelming that there constantly was that ache in your mind, telling you that he deserved better, that you weren’t good enough for a kind, handsome and intelligent boy like him. And to hear it from somewhere outside from the hideout in your mind you had ignored for so long triggered something within you.

You wanted to scream, let out the rage that boiled in your blood and fight the numbness that was freezing your heart. You shouldn’t listen to him, shouldn’t consider his comments only meant to disturb your inner peace, but somehow you figured out his arguments and they were frighteningly plausible to you.

Yaomomo was the smartest girl in your class, her grades in a superior tier, a tier you would never be able to reach. Yaomomo was pretty with her curvy body and the silky, ebony black hair with her snow-like skin, and Yaomomo was likable. In fact, she was probably one of the most polite, humble, and petite human beings to insist, being the whole opposite of the stereotypical rich girl, while gracing your class with her wise words and soft offerings of support. And of course, you noticed how she looked at Shoto, her feathery lashes swinging elegantly as she blinked and the pink shimmer adding another touch of maiden-like appearance.

She was your friend and a good one at that, but now, there was a nasty feeling of envy bubbling in your insides, and you were disgusted by how you wished for a split second she ceases to exist, wasn’t frightening what you had built with Shoto just by existing next to you. The jealousy was tearing at your insides, eating away the confidence you had in yourself and your worth to Shoto slowly and menacing.

You growled and punched the bars again, this time harder, directly hitting the already injured spots on your knuckles. With dull eyes, you watched thick droplets of blood trailing down the metal. The pounding in your ear was loud like thunder, loud enough to overshadow the siren, indicating the end of the last battle.

You were so lost and the warmth on your shoulder felt wrong. A gesture meant to calm shouldn’t be directed towards you, given how disgusted you were by how a shitty comment by the most lunatic guy between the first-years was shattering your inner peace.

“What’s wrong, kid? The battle has already ended”, you heard Aizawa-Sensei’s monotone voice in the far corner of your mind. You huffed and turned in his direction, seeing his mostly neutral but subtly concerned expression. With a shake of your head, you brushed his hand away and got up on your wobbly feet, nearly tumbling over again. The blow you had taken from the copied version of your own quirk was taking its toll, your limbs were burning and a nauseous feeling spread in your already troubled min

“Nothing, just a bit sick from the hit.” You lied and tried to avoid his piercing stare, knowing well enough that he would get suspicious if he discovered what a mess you were on the inside. Maybe he would let it slip that way, leaving you to sort things out by yourself.

Aizawa observed you, he had immediately noticed that something was off when your reaction to being captured was indignant, the self-inflicted lacerations on your hands were a clear indication that something had shaken you to the core, leading you to express yourself in pure anger, a behavior you had never shown before. He was worried about your condition, but he was a teacher and this was still a lesson, so he couldn’t focus on a single student and their problems, at least not now.

“Make sure to see Recovery girl immediately after the discussion of the results. These look nasty”, he commented and you followed him back to the meeting point where the rest of the classes were already waiting. You felt the worried eyes of your classmates, but before anyone was able to approach you, you passed by Monoma who had leaned closer for a second, whispering so only you could hear. “You look pathetic. What will Shoto say if he sees you that broken after a little training?”, he teased further and you stiffened, your pace increasing until you found a spot a few feet away from the others, gaining you even more concerned gazes. But right now you didn’t want to care about that. Everything you wanted was to leave and fall into your bed, forgetting about that bastard and what he said.

Fortunately, the discussion was cut short, Aizawa had left you with a mild, but clear scold for being shaken so easily, losing your composure not only in front of the enemy but also your classmates while in capture. The cameras had shown everyone your poor self-control and you felt even worse than before, being a bad example of a defeated opponent.

You were incredibly tired as you changed into your uniform, ignoring the girls and their attempts to cheer you up. You excused yourself and hurried to Recovery Girls infirmary, passing by some of the boys and most importantly, ignoring Shoto who had hurried to wait for you outside the changing rooms.

The boy was more than confused, never before have you been so distressed over a lost battle and you certainly have never ignored him like that. Normally you would be happy to share your problems with him, being grateful that he was always willing to listen and comfort you in his warm embrace as you would do for him. He nearly ran after you, but the dark shadow on your face caught him off guard, leaving him startled with an unsettling feeling in his stomach, while he retreated to the dorms, hopeful to find a spare minute to talk with you later on.

And later it got as you hadn’t returned to the dorm until the late evening, the bruises you had mostly recovered while your hands were tightly wrapped in some bandages, the weariness from being healed by the older lady clearly visible by the bags forming under your eyes.

Your classmates had greeted you cheerfully, but your still sour mood let you only wave at them and after you voiced your exhaustion everyone understood how fast you made a beeline for your room.

You let yourself drop onto your bed and buried your face in your pillow, effectively shutting out the world around you. Happy thoughts. You told yourself without much of an effect. The whole afternoon while being treated by Recovery Girl you had tried to falsify Monoma’s arguments, but your self-doubt was nagging at your confidence and for every good trait you seemed to find two more flaws about you in comparison to Yaomomo, leading you further and further into a downward spiral. And it left you doubting your decision to date Shoto, taking his chances of being with a dreamlike girl like Momo Yaoyorozu.

“Maybe he is with you because he pities you? Entertain himself until Yaoyorozu and he will be official.”

Shut up. Shut up. “SHUT UP!”, you screamed into your pillow, kicking and punching on the sickening soft mattress beneath you. “Fuck you”, you cursed and grabbed your hair tightly, the pain distracting you from recalling more of Monoma’s bullshit.

“Did I say something wrong?” The cool tone of Shoto’s melodic voice startled you and your head snapped in his direction, seeing how he was kneeling next to your bed on the floor, his hand twitching in need to touch you but keeping himself from doing so.

His heterochromatic eyes were focused on you and the red puffiness of your eyes, dual-colored brows creasing with worry. “I missed you”, he stated and the sadness in his voice drove a dagger through your heart. Shoto had this unique ability to express so much by basically expressing nothing. It had taken you a long time to figure him out, but by now you were well trained in reading the look in his eyes and his small movements, telling so much about his state of mind without giving too much away with his words and then these too, were well chosen and carefully voiced.

You let your head drop back into the pillow. “Sorry, wasn’t talking about you.” You said and clutched the puffy fabric tighter, concentrating on not accidentally suffocating yourself.

“Then who were you talking about?” He asked and you felt his fingers hesitantly combing through your hair which made you sit up, scooting as for away from him as possible. The disappointment on his face at your sudden retreatment made you quiver but he just let his hand drop without another comment about it.

You drew your legs up and rested your forehead on your knees, trying to keep from jumping into his arms. The last thing he needed now was you abusing his affection again. “Doesn’t matter… Would you please leave? I’m tired and want to sleep.” You whispered and sniffled, clawing your nails into your skin.

You heard the shuffling of clothes and a warm presence coming closer, but couldn’t move when you felt his lips just barely touching your head only to retreat the next second, leaving you in the cold with a crushing weight on your shoulder.

“Sleep well, my love.” These tender words and the clicking of your lock were enough to finally trip you, making you silently cry yourself into a numb sleep.

The next morning came way too soon for your liking and to make it even worse because of your exhaustion you hadn’t heard the ringing of your alarm clock, leaving you to hastily grab your bag and run to the classroom where you arrived ten minutes late. Your knock on the door was answered by the confused voice of Cementoss and he allowed you to step inside. You bowed deeply while mumbling an apology, then proceeded to take your seat in the back corner of the room right next to Yaomomo.

Again you felt all eyes on you as you walked through the classroom with your head hung low, trying not to disturb Cementoss teachings anymore.

With a tired sigh, you dropped into your seat, pulling the needed book from your bag but your mind didn’t want to keep up with the lesson and sooner or later you found yourself zoning out, hiding your pale face behind the pages.

A sudden brightness made your head jerk up and you found yourself looking into the disappointment visible on Cementoss-Sensei’s face. “Sleeping during school? That’s a first time for you.” He shook his head and crossed his arms, watching your embarrassment as you sat up straighter, apologizing to him for the second time that day. “Try to pay more attention, or I have to boot you out.”

He turned on his heels and you apologized again, rubbing your forehead with the back of your hand. “Are you feeling unwell? Should I guide you to Recovery Girl?” The sweet voice of Yaomomo whispered next to you and you slightly turned to look at her, seeing a genuinely concerned expression on her pretty face. And to top that, right behind her Shoto was also watching you, mimicking Yaomomo’s worry in a more subtle way. The words you wanted to speak got stuck in your throat as you thought that they looked cute like this, how Shoto was peeking over her shoulder.

Your heart rate increased dramatically as you stared at them wide-eyed, trying to push the image of Monoma and his dumb grin into the back of your mind. Your stomach seemed to do some flips, as you tried not to think about what a power couple they could be, how happier Shoto could be if didn’t have to put up with your antics anymore. He didn’t deserve to be pushed away as you had him yesterday and you had felt more than awful the second the door had fallen shut.

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Momo asked again and was debating with herself to touch you, giving you a reassuring pat, but when you noticed her intention you scooted away from her on your chair, trying to distract yourself by facing the back of Minoru in front of you. “Nothing”, you mumbled and continued to ignore them for the rest of the morning.

When it was time for lunchbreak Cementoss-Sensei scolded you again for your behavior that morning and threatened to have word with Aizawa-Sensei if it happened again. Fortunately, he had some sort of understanding for his students and let you go without much more than a few reprimands.

You followed your usual habits and walked to the cafeteria. After picking up something for lunch without really caring what you got you searched for a spot as farthest away possible from where your classmates were sitting. You weren’t in the mood for their prying and liked to avoid any more stress resulting from their attempts to pick you up. It was kind of funny how caring could be such a nuisance to someone, but knowing that they meant well only soured your mood more.

So you had eaten quietly for yourself, forcing yourself more to at least eat a tiny bit while sharing a table but not really paying attention to the other students happily chatting right next to you. And it went on like that for the rest of the day and actually for the rest of the week. You tried your best to not drift off again, feeling the intensity of Shoto’s and Momo’s anxious stares growing with each passing day as you shut them out for good. And it wasn’t only them, your lasting mood seemed to alarm the whole class, but no one dared to approach you, seeing how angrily you had brushed off Mashirao the other day while he had only tried to give you a friendly greeting that morning.

Sometimes you caught them mumbling and a stolen glance in your direction but they quickly left you as your temper seemed to shorten more and more. The climax happened when you passed Monoma and Tetsutetsu in the halls. While the latter only gave you a polite nod but hurried away from you as you gifted him with an icy glare, the blonde saw the results of his making during the joint battle training and saw it as his opportunity to finally break a class A student as he always had wished to. The moment he had opened his mouth you knew your last restraints were threatening to rip. And rip they did with a backlash none of you had ever expected from you.

“Oh, hey Y/N! How is Shoto?”, he asked with that sly grin of his and you stopped dead in your tracks, feeling the blood boiling inside you. You breathed through gritted teeth as your nails pierced holes into the straps of your bag. “Why make a face like that? Did someone step on your foot or something?” He walked around you, following you in your line of sight as you adverted your gaze. “So did he finally ditch you for Yaoyorozu?” His voice was nothing more than a small whisper as he had leaned close to your ear, his breath sending icy chills down your spine as it fanned over your ear.

You felt like something within you snapped in that second and in the next you had Monoma pinned to the wall, your arm pressing down on his throat. The shocked gasps around you were ignored as you stared him in his eyes, now filled with pure fear instead of cunning narcissism. “And why should it bother you?” You whizzed at him, putting more pressure on his throat as you leaned closer. His eyes flickered from your deadly expression to Tetsutetsu in search of help. “Come on, Y/N. I know Monoma can be annoying but…”

“Back off”, you growled as Tetsutetsu had tried to pull you back by your shoulder, but immediately let go after sensing the rage shaking your body. Monoma seemed to pale as he saw how his boisterous classmates jumped back frightened by the threat in your voice. The situation tensed while no one dared to speak or move, you just continued to watch Monoma struggle in your iron grip, breath hitching as you slowly pressed harder and harder.

While one part of you enjoyed seeing him tremble in fear, showing him what a fragile bastard he was while you had overpowered him with his ease, the other part screamed inside, begging you to let go and show mercy, apologizing and showing the bystanders and gaffers that you weren’t the monster you seemed to be at the moment. But your body wouldn’t listen anymore, the pent-up frustration was finally lifted, but it pained you that the only solution to your inner turmoil seemed to be brutal violence.

“Y/N, let go.” A new voice spoke and you felt a steady hand on your arm, pulling it away from the sickly pale face of Neito Monoma. To your surprise, it belonged to Denki, facing you with an unusually serious expression. You watched as he held your arm and let Monoma drop to the floor, then proceeded to pull you down the hallway, away from the confused and shocked Yuei-students until he dragged you around a corner, sitting you down on the staircase.

He made sure that no one followed you then he plopped down next to you and let out a relieved sigh, ruffling through his yellow hair. “What the hell was that?!”, he jumped and shook his arms and legs, seemingly releasing some tension. His behavior had changed back from serious to goofy, waiting for your response and staring at you questioningly.

You gulped and took a deep breath leaning your head on the cool banister. “I don’t know”, you muttered and crossed your arms. “Well not that I mind, he probably deserved it, but that’s so unlike you. Kinda’ scary”, he playfully shivered and you closed your eyes. Hearing it only drove another needle into your already punctured soul. “I’m sorry. I should apolo…”

Denki interrupted you by flicking your temple and you turned confused in his direction, the little pain helping you ground your wandering thoughts. “The only thing you should do right now is to tell me what is bothering you. You were behaving strangely the whole week and I’m worried. We all are”, he scooted a bit closer and stretched out his legs, patiently waiting until you decided to speak on your own. You debated with yourself if you should talk to him, given that Denki wasn’t a very serious personality, but you considered it, distancing hadn’t helped you at all, so maybe the carefree spirit of your classmate could ease a bit of your pain?

“I guess that Neito said something to you during your battle?”, Denki thought loudly and your head snapped in his direction, shocked by his correct guess. A small laugh indicated that he understood your puzzled look. “I’m not that stupid, Y/N. Wasn’t hard to guess by how you nearly choked him in the middle of the hallway.”

“I guess not”, you huffed and curled up in yourself, keeping yourself from bursting again.

Denki acted like he was brooding, rubbing his nose with his index finger until his eyes lightened and he snapped his fingers. “It has to do with Shoto and Momo!”, he exclaimed happily and you stared at him again. His very true guesses unsettled you, knowing his usual more… simple mind. “You are scaring me, Denki. How did you know?”

The yellow-haired boy gave an amused laugh and leaned over while his eyebrows wiggled weirdly. “I’m smarter than you might think”, he grinned but soon put on a more apologetic expression. “But to be honest I talked to them. You shut out the whole class, but Momo is such a good friend of yours and Shoto is your boyfriend, so it was obvious that it had something to do with them. You haven’t even dared to look at them and they thought that if it was something they did wrong, you would more likely open up around someone else and that coincidently happened to be me.” He scratched the back of his head and you watched him shift on his spot. Obviously, he was nervous about this, but you silently thanked him for preventing you from doing something worse to Monoma.

You thought about what he said and sighed again, messaging the root of your nose with your index and thumb. “They did nothing wrong, please tell them that”, you asked and he gave a slight nod. “Then what is it?” He pried further and you felt that uneasiness again, the ever-growing self-doubt Monoma had ignited within you and how it tore at your confidence.

You blinked some tears away and turned to see Denki’s eyes filled with patience and sympathy. The only thing he wanted to achieve was to help you overcome whatever problems you were facing at the moment. But the point is you were the problem.

Everything was your fault, to begin with. You had dared to take away Shoto’s chance the be with Momo, you had weighed him down straining him with your problems and you had pushed him away when he only tried to help. How could you become so disgusting?

“I’m pathetic. That is my problem.” You stated dryly and dropped your head on your knees, looking at the black fabric of your shoes and so avoided seeing Denki losing his mind. “Woah, woah, what!? You and pathetic? Did Monoma tell you that crap?” He seemed seriously offended by your low self-esteem.

You shook your head no. “I know that I am. Monoma only made me realize my selfishness and I guess this is my way to compensate for it.” Denki grew more confused with every word you said. “You are not selfish, Y/N. You are the bestest friend someone could wish for!”

“No, I’m not! I’m a horrible friend!” You yelled back and he answered in the same fashion. “And why is that?!” You growled and turned fully in his direction. “Because I stole away a happy future from Momo and Shoto. I’m selfish because I took away their chance to be together!” You desperately cried and hunched over, feeling how the exhaustion has taken a toll on your body.

Your whimpering concerned Denki has he processed what you just said. You had deterred Shoto and Momo from a relationship? How could you think something like this? Shoto was obviously head over heels for you and Momo was probably the greatest shipper in the whole class, rooting for the both of you. She even gave Shoto advice on how to court you, they spend so much time togeht… Oh fuck.

“But Y/N, it’s not like you think”, Denki tried to soothe you but you cut him off with a flick of your hand. “Momo has everything. She is smart, pretty, and generally the better choice for someone like Shoto. I’m just dragging him down. I just… want them to be happy, but my selfish dumbass claimed him before she could take her chance.”

Denki was unable to cope with your logic. You were in no matter worse than Yaomomo, you had your own unique qualities that made you… well, you. And everyone knew that, everyone saw the lovestruck gaze in Shoto’s eyes as he looked at you. Of course, it was so much like you to care so much about the happiness of your friends but hurting yourself like that just because that stupid Neito couldn’t stop his damn mouth?

As much as he wanted to help you, Denki felt like he wasn’t the right person to discuss this with.

“Ah, fuck it. Yaomomo, Shoto, get over here!”, he ordered and your heart skipped a beat. Then when you heard the hesitatingly approaching footsteps your head snapped up and you stared at Denki in disbelief. “Sorry, Y/N. But that is something between the three of you”, he apologized and left his spot on the staircase as you saw Shoto and Momo walking up the other stairs from the floor beneath. You realized that this whole conversation had to be set up by them and scolded yourself for not noticing it sooner.

The moment red/white and black hair popped up in your line of sight you dropped your head into your hands, fingers clawing at your scalp. You heard the shuffling of their uniforms as one of them, probably Momo sat down in Denki’s former spot and Shoto kneeled in front of you. Your mind raced and the headache dulled your other senses. This was the worst situation that could have happened like a trap snapped shut and now you had to face your greatest fear. Would you ever be able to find some peace again?

“Are you not happy with me?” It was Shoto’s voice but filled clearly filled with sadness he had carried with him for a long time. You shook your head but kept from looking up, knowing that looking into his eyes would shatter the last bit of sanity you had. “Of course I am”, you admitted in defeat and choked down the knot forming in your throat. “You were listening, please don’t make me repeat this.” You begged and hugged yourself, trying to shield yourself from their gazes.

“Sorry for that, but you avoided us the whole week and we couldn’t continue watching you starving and hurting anymore. Why didn’t you say anything?” Momo asked and you felt the ghost of her touch on your back, rubbing there in a gentle manner. Your breath hitched with the warmth her fingers provided. “I didn’t know how. Monoma hit something and the next second I felt like the ground disappeared from beneath my feet. I’m so, so sorry”, you wept and pulled harder on the strands of your hair.

Meanwhile, Momo looked concerned at Shoto and he gave her a small nod. “There is nothing to apologize for”, he stated gently and eased your hands from your scalp, holding them tightly between his own as his thumbs graced over the little scars on your knuckles. “I thought you knew how much you mean to me?”

You sniffled and hunched over more, drawing your legs as high up as possible. “Come on Y/N, don’t do this to yourself”, Momo pleaded and placed her chin on your shoulder, snaking her hands around your upper body which earned her another wheeze. “You both are way too caring.”

Shoto chuckled and gave your knuckles a soft little peck. “Your one to talk. Between us, you’re the most caring one, willing to sacrifice your own happiness to help your friends, even though it’s totally unnecessary.” He turned and pulled your hand to his cheek, placing his lips right against your palm. “Please look at me, my love.”

The softness in his voice melted your resistance instantly and you slowly opened your eyes until you found his mismatched ones, looking at you filled with nothing but affection for you.

Momo watched your interaction, it was a rare sight to see Shoto so emotional and again she confirmed her opinion that you and Shoto belonged together by the way you easily got him to open up around you. That was one of the things Shoto had always admired about you and she could barely restrain herself from fangirling when he fell into a ramble about your qualities, counting an infinite amount of things he liked about you.

But now she understood what it must have looked like to you, seeing her and Shoto together so often. Of course, you had to assume there was something more than a simple friendship between them and she blamed herself for not noticing or considering what their meetings could mean to you. And it resulted in you overworking so much, that a stupid comment from Neito was enough to topple you over. “I should be the one apologizing to you, Y/N. I should have known what me spending so much time with Shoto must have looked like. But please, please, stop downgrading yourself like that.” You slightly turned in her direction and saw her eyes glistening with tears. “You’re a wonderful friend and I’m so happy for you both. I don’t want be with Shoto and I’m sure he doesn’t want me to. He loves you because you are you, why can’t you see that?”

She hugged you tighter as you let her words sink in. She didn’t want a relationship with Shoto because she felt that you belonged with him? The honesty in her words left no room for lies or ulterior moves and the way she pulled you close, made your heartache. How could you ever assume she meant you harm? Momo had always been there for you and as she explained the only thing she was doing was helping Shoto to reach out to you?

You were torn between running her, undeserving of her loyalty and kindness, and hugging her. Her little snuffle made you put your head on hers and melt into her embrace while Shoto held your hands cupped around his face, watching in awe how you seemed to accept their statements.

With each passing second being caught in their affection your mind seemed to calm and the weight on your shoulders started to lift. In your thoughts, you scolded yourself for listening to Monoma and his stupid opinion. The only approvement you really needed was offered by the embrace of your dear friend and soft kisses your boyfriend placed on your hands. It felt like Shoto was trying to kiss away the pain represented by the tiny scars you had inflicted on your knuckles, successfully disrooting the doubt that had grown in your mind.

You turned your eyes in his direction and he gave you one of his rare Shoto-smiles, the ones that always made the butterflies dance in your belly and you silently thanked him, mouthing a soundless love you to not disturb Momo still resting on your shoulder. Shoto blinked at you but soon regained his consciousness and with a pink shimmer on his cheeks he leaned up to place a soft kiss on your temple ultimately banishing the last shadows from your heart.

It was such a pleasant feeling, knowing your worth because the people you love the most reassured you when you yourself weren’t able to. And you reminded yourself to thank Denki, without his goofy smartass you probably wouldn’t be here right now, being bathed in a soothing feeling you never want to let go again.

[classylo]

just you | bucky barnes

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female reader

summary: reader and bucky have kept their relationship on the DL but that doesn’t stop the jealousy of seeing him flirt with others, especially when he does it on purpose.

warnings: 18+ ONLY; smut (unprotected sex, bathroom/public sex, oral f receiving, praise) a bit angsty, mentions of secret relationship, feelings of not being enough, cuss words, jealousy, flirting to make someone jealous (lil bit toxic)

eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

If you had made a drinking game of how many times he placed his hand on the small of her back, you would’ve been drunk hours ago.

At first, you were a bit concerned, she was gorgeous and you feel like sometimes it’s hard to compete with girls like her.

So, it wasn’t until you caught Bucky staring at you a few times for you to realize what he was doing. He was trying to see if you were watching him, and once he confirmed that you were… he upped the flirting. He wanted to get a rise out of you and you weren’t going to give in.

But your composure was wearing thin. You told yourself if he doesn’t return to your side within the next 10 fucking minutes, you two were going to have a problem.

Yes, you two have kept your relationship on the down low for the past few months but it didn’t mean he could keep flirting with all the new agents. Even if it was just a game between the two of you.

You were still watching Bucky when two familiar voices interrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N!” Steve and Sam said so in sync it brought a smile to your face.

They gave you quick hugs as they ushered for drinks from the bartender.

“Hiya boys, hows it going?” You force a smile as you try to erase the mental pictures of your boyfriend from across the way.

“Why are you all alone?” Steve asks

“Oh, well, you know how I am, not much of a socialite unlike some people.” You shrug your shoulders and take a sip of your drink.

“So that dick just left you alone?” Sam asks, obviously talking about their best friend.

You don’t think they knew about the two of you but surely they had to by now.

You laugh at his banter and by the time you glance over to where Bucky was you’re shocked to see his large strides bringing him right to your side.

“Well speak of the devil,” Steve chuckles while Bucky completely ignores his two best friends, his eyes narrowing in on you.

You two stare at each other, silently, an argument already being shared by just your eyes.

“Excuse us.” Bucky finally speaks, pulling you with him.

He pulls you into the nearest bathroom, pushing you inside and locking the door behind him. He turns to find you, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

“I leave you alone for 15 minutes and you have to flirt with my friends?” He asks,  cocking his head to the side.

“Me?” You laugh.

“You heard me.” He retorts. His Brooklyn accent thickens with anger.

You scoff and try to push past him and out of the bathroom. He grabs you by the waist and pushes you against the door.

“You’re not going anywhere.” He mutters.

This is the first time all night you’ve really seen him up close. His eyes were a dark blue, which usually happens when he is mad. His face is cleanly shaven and the outline of his clenched jaw is on display.

“Tell me, baby girl, are you jealous?” He smirks.

You roll your eyes and try to push him off you.

“Now now, don’t act like a brat.”

“Fuck off Bucky, you’ve been practically been eye-fucking that new agent all night trying to get a rise outta me.” You say.

He smiles.

“You’re such a fucking child.” You scoff.

“Oh doll, you know I just love to mess with you.” He whispers, his lips mere inches from yours.

“Well, maybe I don’t find it fucking funny. Maybe I don’t like seeing my boyfriend flirt with other women. Women I can’t compete with.” You say.

He hears the hurt in your voice and he realizes he’s pushed the jealous game a little too far.

“I mean it’s already hard keeping our relationship a secret, now you want to vehemently flirt with every girl you see.  If you don’t want to be with me just say it.” Your voice cracks as you finally give way to your emotions.

“Oh baby, no no. I’m so sorry —“ he sighs.

“You’re my girl, just you. You’re the only girl I want. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I just like seeing you jealous. But I’ve pushed it too far and I’m sorry.” He says as he cups your face.

“I love you, doll. So fucking much.” He then pulls you into his lips.

He dominates the kiss as your hands wrap around his neck. His lips soon left yours and peppered kisses all along your jawline. Soft moans escaped you as you tried your best to still act mad.

“Let me show you, yeah? You’re my only girl, let me make you feel good.” He whispers.

He sinks to his knees and pushes your dress up, he grabs your underwear and pulls them down your legs, the sight alone was enough to make you cum.

Bucky tosses one leg over his shoulder as he dives into your glistening slick. He traces his tongue from your entrance to your clit, again and again. Your hands falling to his hair as you mutter several curse words under your breath. He slides two fingers inside of you and you couldn’t help the moan that slipped out.

He pulls his fingers from you and quickly stands to his feet, picking you up and carrying you to the bathroom counter.

“You’ve gotta stay quiet baby.” He hushes you as he undoes his belt and slides his pants down.

He pushes inside of you and once again you cry out his name. This time he slaps his hand over your mouth.

“I told you —“ he thrusts into you,

“To be quiet, doll, the others will hear“ another harsh thrust, your head falling back.

“And I’m the only one who can hear these gorgeous sounds of yours, yeah?” He whispers before removing his hand from your mouth.

He angles himself so your sensitive clit rubs against his hard base, you bite down on his shoulder to conceal your moans knowing he’s trying to make it impossible for you to be quiet.

“Buck, shit, baby I’m so —“ you whine.

“Let go for me doll baby, cum on my cock, be my good girl, and cum.” He instructs as he looks into your eyes.

Your coil snaps as you feel his hot seed spill inside of you, his thrusts sloppy as he gently tries to pull out. You fall against his chest as he wraps his arms around you. Kissing the top of your head.

“You’re my only girl, okay?” He whispers.

“I better be.” You smile.

“Oh trust me, love. No one could compare to you.” He says before kissing you.

“Now, let’s clean you up and announce this relationship as if they don’t all already know.” He smirks.

a/n: <3 thanks for all the love

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Hi! Can you do one where Tom Holland and Reader are dating but they hit a bump in the road halfway through the relationship when the reader and Tom get into an argument over how the Reader is getting a bunch of hate from Toms fans, not to mention, she’s been stressed out bc Toms fans are coming to the ER,where she works as a Trauma Surgeon, and are causing chaos and Tom gets pissed at her saying “it’s not like it’s my fault but since you’re getting so angry you don’t have to worry about them anymore because we’re done”. The reader gets sad and goes to a close friend, Sebastian Stan, and they end up sleeping together. She finds out she’s pregnant and Tom calls her saying he didn’t mean what he said and they get back together, she tells Tom that she’s pregnant with Sebastians baby and he tells her that he won’t go anywhere, that he’s not mad, and that he wants to be with her for forever and that he’ll be by her side through it all. I’m sorry if this is confusing or super long :(

Broken Heart

Warning: Very angsty.

Word count:1152

A/N: I apologize for the delay in answering your ask dear and thank you for being patient.

Part 2

You are angry and sad.

You had to leave your job through the back door for fear that someone would stop you if you left through the main entrance, someone scratched your car, and you had to listen to a lecture from your boss because of the little commotion that was going on outside the hospital because of you.

As soon as you got into your car, you let the tears fall and a cry of agony leave your body, why did it have to be so hard? Couldn't you just love someone in peace? Would you have to put up with it for the rest of your life?

You still remembered the day you met Tom two years ago, a time when everything seemed so much easier.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

You were working in pediatrics at the time. You walked into the office and saw a boy between your 12 or 13 years old with his arm in a cast, you smile at him kindly before speaking.

"Hi, I'm Y/N and you?"

"I'm Paddy" the redheaded boy replies returning the smile shyly.

"Hi Paddy, where are your parents?" He asks seeing that he was alone there.

"I came with my older brother, he went to the snack machine".

A man enters soon after with several packages of snacks in his hands.

"Paddy, I didn't know which one you would want so I brought all kinds" as soon as his gaze meets yours he drops all the packages on the floor "Sorry, I didn't know the doctor had already come in".

"It's okay" you say laughing.

"I'm Tom, his brother".

"I know who you are, I've seen a movie of you" you say smiling as you analyze Paddy's arm.

"So you're a fan" he tries to flirt.

"No, but I watched it with my best friend, you probably know him"

"Do I?" He asks suspiciously.

"Yes, Sebastian Stan"

"He's your best friend?"

"Yeah, quite a while actually, he said something about you a little star having two assistants and drinking boxed juice" You laugh as he blushes "don't worry, I know he was just joking"

"Yeah, he and Anthony love to make jokes with me, it's funny except when it makes me awkward around pretty girls" he flirts.

"Well Paddy your arm is almost fully healed, I think we can have it out by next week" you say smiling at Paddy.

"Thank you Dr.Y/N" the redhead smiles.

"Just Y/N please"

Paddy leaves the room first but Tom is still there looking at you in amazement for some reason.

"Since we have a friend in common, maybe you could meet me later for coffee, or dinner maybe" you chuckle at his attempt to take you out.

"Sorry Mr. Holland, but I don't go out with my patients"

"But I am not your patient, Paddy is, I am just the chaperone".

"You have a point, but anyway I think the rule applies to chaperones too" you smile.

But Tom didn't give up, he called Sebastian asking for her number and tried to win her over every day since he met her. He said he had found his soul mate as soon as he walked into that office. And everything was so easy with him, at least until now.

•─────✧─────•─────✧─────•

Most of the relationship was kept secret, you both thought it was for the best, you liked your private life and Tom knew that some of his fans could be very aggressive and he wanted to protect you from all this, but a month ago pictures of Tom kissing you leaked in the media. It took less than five minutes for the hate messages to fill your Instagram, last week you had been followed by a paparazzi and after today it seemed like everything was really falling apart.

You saw Tom's car in front of the building where you lived and you are thankful that you at least had his no to comfort you at that moment.

"Hi" you say in a low voice as you walk into your house.

"Hi honey" he gets up to hug you "Hey what happened?" he asks when you start crying on his shoulder, he sits down next to you on the couch holding you in his arms.

"Your fans invaded my work today."

"What?" he asks to make sure you understand correctly.

"I'm surprised it's not already all over the gossip sites" you say angrily "Since lately they love to invade our privacy".

"Honey, you have to understand that the life of someone famous, I know it's terrible, but we have to learn to deal with it and get over it".

"Your fans scratched the word bitch on my car.

"They just love me too much," he replies.

"Your fans come into my work to curse me, they scratch my car, they call me a bitch" he stands up angrily "And you're saying they did it out of love? What kind of love is that?

"Don't you think you're being a little dramatic?" He gets angry too.

"Dramatic?" You shout, "I almost got fired because of that little show of theirs, and I'm being dramatic?

"If you can't accept my fans, you can't accept me," he shouts.

"Oh my God, did you stop for a minute to listen to yourself? It has nothing to do with accepting them or accepting you, it's that a lot of them are hurting me" she says between tears "Do you think I like seeing people on the internet judging what I eat or wear, telling me I'm too fat and too ugly to be your girlfriend? I love you, I love you very much, but this," she says referring to her fans, "is going to destroy our relationship.

"Then maybe we shouldn't have a relationship" he says in a lower voice.

"What?" She asks startled.

"This is hurting you, so we should end it, so you won't have any more pain" he gets up from the couch and avoids looking at you.

"Are you breaking up with me?"

"I'm sorry Y/N, but yes, I am breaking up with you."

You sit in silence for a few minutes, absorbing his words, get up from the couch angrily and look at him.

"Since we're breaking up you better take this" he plucks the necklace from your neck and throws it in your face, it was a small gold heart necklace with his initials engraved on it, he had given it to you on their anniversary the same day he had said he loved her for the first time.

"Y/N..." He tries to say.

"Go away" he doesn't move "GO AWAY NOW."

He sighs, takes out your house keys that he had and leaves them on your desk before leaving your house.

You collapse as soon as he leaves, picking up the phone and dialing the number of the person you knew would support you unconditionally.

"Tom and I broke up" you speak as soon as he answers "Sebastian, I need you..."

[moxfirefly]

Okay okay okay I have something. You are so good at writing tmnt so here it goes. What about... Make up sex? ;) I imagine how there has been a huge fight with their girl. So much so that the turtles thought it would lead to breakup. But the SO returns and it ultimately leads to some angsty action. Of course you can imagine it however you want too! Make up your own reasons if need be!!

As somebody who breathes angst this is truly fun. You didn’t specify a turt lad so I hope you don’t mind me choosing and going from there. Just cause I’m intrigued ima go with my orange boi.

TW: Angst/Feels/Arguments

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

His hands hurt so much. When you ball your fists for too long the tendons tend to protest, the digging of nails into palms stings.

Mikey doesn’t like how loud his head feels right now. He sits against the wall closest to his tv, your scent is surrounding him and it only serves to make him more frustrated and gutted. The two of you have never gone past discussion into full blow arguing. He doesn’t like to fight with you, he does enough fighting on a nightly bases anyways.

But you got stubborn and he got selfish. Voices got raised, things were said and each one got hurt. He knows he can’t keep you glued to his shell forever, he’s had to learn the hard way, that there’s a life above that you inhabit and people around he’ll never truly meet. He knows every detail about your home life, knows your mother’s maiden name, how your aunt likes to get drunk at the family reunions and spill gossip. He knows your childhood home’s street name, the first guy you kissed, the first girl you kissed. Every aspect of your life you have told him in confidence, in laughter, in tears.

But Mikey is never gonna be part of it. He can’t really meet your dad and have that ‘if you break her heart I’ll break your legs’ talk. He won’t bond with your mom over their mutual love of cooking and secretly become her confidant. Knowing all these people but never truly knowing them is something he accepts.

It’s you leaving for three months back home. Three months away from him, three months where you’ll be surrounded by nostalgia you miss and love. Where your family will ask about ‘any boyfriends?’ and you’ll have to fake laugh your way through it. Three months of you being amongst people you constantly miss.

Surrounded by normalcy.

And Mikey wanted to be happy for you, he wanted to say fuck it and face time you every morning and night, watch you be happy to be in your hometown and maybe even get a virtual tour of it...

But that little dark part in his brain calls him a freak and reminds him constantly that you’ll get tired of surrounding yourself in craziness, monsters, end of the world scenarios etc. It just can’t seem to allow him to be happy for you. So the entire thing had ended in a fight, where dumb regretful things had been spat and you had marched off pissed and he had remained here equally pissed.

His brothers think he doesn’t get mad, they think he holds himself together through sheer ignorant bliss but it’s never been the case. Cause you’ve seen fire in his pretty blue eyes, you’ve seen those same very pretty blue eyes turn red with tear, you’ve seen so much of what he hides behind his laughter.

And fuck, three months of you away?!

Mikey pushes his knees up against his chest and sighs. His phone hasn’t made a noise despite his efforts to try and call you after he has calmed down. He debated going to your house and apologizing or at least going for a more calmer approach in expressing why this had left him so triggered. He wants to make sure this hasn’t pushed you both to your end, another nagging little thought that hasn’t quite shut its mouth.

Had this been the end? Had you walked out in a fury of frustration and decided this is it? Would you seize all communication and just erase the memories of him and your time together?

He’s hurting himself, he’s also getting angrier. This is stupid, he’s been stupid and immature and so are you for walking off!

It’s two hours before he decides to get up and toss his phone and try to consume his surrounding in order to relax. Mind over matter and all it’s wonderful bullshit. He doesn’t want to leave his room cause he knows the others must’ve heard.

He’s four hours deep into a shooting game when Raph pokes his head in with some food. He doesn’t look up, cause he knows Raph wants to be a good big brother and talk to him but he doesn’t want to when he’s one unfortunate mishandling away from crying. He lets him sit with him, watch him play and run a little bit of commentary that actually makes him smile just a teeny bit.

Even when Raph gets up and runs a large mitt over his head and tells him ‘broads are just emotional, she’ll come around’ he tries his best to not let his eyes betray him. Even when Raph gives the top of his head a kiss and pats his shell, he tries his best to keep it together.

It’s around 4am when he decides to look for his phone, chucked somewhere near his bed and maybe not broken. He finds it under his bed, screen a little cracked and one text message reading ‘r u awake?’ By you, it was sent twenty minutes ago and somewhere between debating calling or texting he hears the curtain in his room move.

You’re there.

Face two parts unreadable and a good topping of frustrated. Your face is bare, a mixture of sleepwear and winter clothing that clearly shows you had tried to sleep it off but couldn’t. “I just saw this... sorry” Mikey wonders if that sorry is related to the unread text or more so this mess. You look away, the energy around you can be felt. That upset way you bite the inside of your lip, how you cross your arms and run through every possible way of starting your side of things to say.

“Why are you really mad about me going back home?” You can’t meet his gaze and Mikey is thankful because he feels an oncoming headache. “I dunno man...” He sets his phone on his makeshift night table and runs his hands through his face, mask being taken off with the motion.

“That’s not an answer, you’re mad about something and I want to know” This time you do look and Mikey’s playing with the shoe string on one of the sneakers that hangs from the bunk bed. He chooses to stay quiet because if he does say something, what are the chances that you’ll understand?

“Mike, talk to me” He huffs a bitter laugh, ‘Mike’ is the he’s in trouble name. But he feels more obstinate than ever because why talk?

He shoves his hands in his pockets and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t come back in the freezing cold to actually work through this if you aren’t going to throw me a bone at least-” Your tone is a mix of exasperation and sadness. “You go back and you forget about me” Mikey cuts through.

You furrow your brows at his statement. “What?” You take a few steps but he side steps you and that somehow cuts you. “You go back home and you realize it’s better to be in a normal environment that isn’t New York, in the sewers, with me-“ He motions to all of him. “And all the crazy shit we do” He glares, not necessarily at you but more so at all of this, the current state of affairs.

Running a frustrated hand through your hair you try to settle your thoughts. “You can’t jump to a conclusion like that and you know it, I’m not skulking off back home and ghosting you! And frankly it fucking hurts you think of me like that” You reach for him because Mikey can’t be still for five seconds if his life depended on it, but he grabs your hands and refuses to let you lull him with your touch. “It’s not a conclusion it’s a friggin possibility! Do you see us actually being endgame in all this shit!” He grips your wrists, you want to get through to him but he’s lost in that terrible negative mindset.

“We both aren’t mind readers! But trust me that leaving you is nowhere on my list of achievements” You manage out of his grip and grasp his face. “You are being unfair and stubborn as fuck but I love you okay?” Your voice sounds almost angry, angry at the very idea of living in a world where you and him don’t coexist together.

“I can’t even marry you! I can’t even knock you up!” Another bitter laugh escapes him, he knows your parents would die for some grandkids. Why is he so different, why does he have to be so fucking different he wonders bitterly.

“I don’t care, I don’t fucking care about a piece of paper or screaming babies, I care about you and I want you and I’m fucking happy with you stop sabotaging it” You press your hands to his hard plastron and scowl. “Stop lying to me then! Don’t pity lie at me when I know you want all that shit” He frowns, eyes watery and not caring if he wakes everybody up in the Lair.

Mikey’s ready for the rant of a life time but then you have to go and kiss him.

Kiss him hard, kiss him with rage bubbling on the skin of your lips. He can taste your words, taste every way you would’ve shut down his words with basic truth and facts. You pull away, forehead still pressed to his and you mutter against his lips. “You’re so fucking insufferable, shut up and listen to me” Your eyes are watery as is, hands at his neck to keep him at eye level.

“I love you, I love you so fucking much” You take a shuttering inhale, fingers skimming up towards his cheeks. Mikey can only watch you, take in every detail he’s been obsessed with for so long. You’re so beautiful to him, even when your angry crying, yelling at him to open his eyes. You’re warm and real in front of him, against his body. You watch his eyes go from that calm before the storm into the aftermath.

He’s so real to you, so lovely and he doesn’t seem to understand it.

There’s a pause. A mere ten second reprieve where only silence and breathing remain. Mikey feels your hands slowly slide down his body, nails scratching his sides. You keep your eyes on him, a hand slides into his shorts, index finger mapping out the slit that encompasses his most intimate part. Mikey shudders, sensitivity racking his body at your touch. He walks you up against a wall, a hand on your neck and another finding it’s way into your own pants.

He teases you, just as you tease him. Knees buckle when he pushes your lips apart and feels your moistening folds. There’s already a bump where your touching him and the way he’s tensing gives way to how he’s trying to hold himself in. “Come on, come on” You weren’t aware just how hard you’ve been breathing till you speak. Mikey’s mouths falls open, eyes closing as he drops down into your warm awaiting hand. You stroke him, teasing the flesh of his head just to make him buck and recapture your lips. His own finger finds its way in you, stretching and making your breath hitch.

The only reason you both pull away is to tear at one another’s clothes, an easy accomplishment when Mikey’s got just his shorts. He isn’t soft with your clothing either, yanking and nearly tearing, his on his knees pulling off your underwear. Your scent hits him and he’s gone, trapped in all that is you. He inhales sharply as he gets back on his feet, arms hooking under your thighs as he picks you up.

You both land on the bed, a huff escaping you and a grunt when Mikey feels you push him so you can straddle him. You don’t quite finesse this, it’s not your usual seductive ways that leave him a mess. It’s rough, there’s still frustration lingering in the air and Mikey’s okay with it because he knows he might go to rough if he runs the show.

So you do.

Sinking down on his hard cock with a long guttural moan. Mikey digs his fingers onto the plush skin of your bottom, just enough to make you sit on his cock and relish it. Eyes closed he just basks, the tightness, the wetness, the warmth. His eyes flutter open when he feels your palms on his plastron, firm and with purpose. His hands know already, they go up and rest on your waist and he swallows a churr when your hips begin to move fast and hard.

That rhythmic slapping of flesh, your rear hitting his lap on each thrust down. Mikey can’t stop churring, eyes on your own or slipping down to your beautiful breasts bouncing. You notice and lean forward, he buries his face between him, arm going around your waist as he lifts his hips to help you cross that line. The sweat of your skin is on the top of his tongue as he sucks a bruise onto your breast, you’re tightening up so much, cussing and begging for him.

You both can’t stop moaning, once you’re cummin and Mikey follows closely behind. He holds you close to him as you ride out the sensations, tightly secured against his strong body, held and loved. You’re a broken record of ‘I love you’s and so is he, filling you up and up.

Collapsed on top of him, chest heaving, you still feel the strength in his arms as he hugs you to him. You bury your face on his neck, body shaking with sobs as he whispers he’s sorry over and over as he kisses your shoulder, neck and head.

You say it too, against his skin.

Where you wish you could stay everyday.

[caramelcal]

his favorite club

warnings: swearing, arguing, talks of murder, gangs, use of weapons etc. don’t read if you are not comfortable with these! 

word count: 2.5k

a/n: HELLO!!!! WELCOME BACK TO THE NEXT LUKE/BAMBI POST!

thank you so much for all the love anons <3

requests: Anonymous asked:

Could you write a Luke x gang where him and the reader are fighting and maybe his arm goes up and she thinks he’s going to hit her but would never and it’s fluffy in the end?

Anonymous asked:

For the Luke x gang could you write something angsty like maybe he doesn’t come home on time like usual and y/n is really worried idk maybe goes to his place of business and it starts a big fight and the reader gets a bit scared of how mad he is? Idk you can take it in any direction.

Anonymous asked:

Loved the new Luke post. Was wondering if the next part could have some danger concerning the reader? Or maybe she sees the dangerous part of him and it scares her?

The only sound filling the apartment was the sounds of the small girl's shoes hitting off of the floor loudly, and the soft but irritating clicking of the clock that stood on the wall in front of her. It was 8:13 pm. Over an hour later than Luke had said he was going to be.

Bambi knew the dangers of the work that Luke lived in, but he had only ever been once late and even then, she had got a text explaining that he would be. Yet, this time, she never got a text, a call, nothing.

Radio silence.

Her stomach clenched up every time she thought about the possibilities of what could have happened to Luke. She wouldn't consider herself a pessimist, but she can't exactly say that she was expecting the best.

She was sure that if Luke didn't get home soon, the floor would have worn away from the amount of pacing she was doing right now. The clock continued to tick on, each movement from the small circular thing stuck on the wall bringing her more and more anxiety.

He should be home.

Maybe that's why she found herself in one of Luke's cars, somehow managing to sneak past the two members of Luke's gang that she had seen on the way down, and evading Jacob, Luke's personal driver.

In fact, Bambi hadn't driven a car since she moved in with Luke, always being driven around by either Jacob or Luke himself. It felt weird being behind a wheel again, but she didn't have time to dwell on it or soak up in the power she felt inkling into her chest before she was speeding out of the garage, onto the main highway of the city.

If Bambi was being honest, she probably broke about seven driving laws (if there were that many, probably, she thought) on the way to the club that Luke often found himself at. He never brought her there, and actually, forbid her from coming to altogether, but she knew he couldn't be too mad considering it was all about her concern about him.

From the moment she walked in, she felt out of place. Men in dark button-ups, cigarettes falling from their lips, women in minimal and sexy clothing, drinks all around. The red luminous lights of the bar being the only light provided. Her eyes scanned the area, looking for her tall boyfriend but it was really difficult.

A lot of the people in here were very tall, much taller than Bambi was, so trying to see over them was impossible. She was very out of place, alone, scared, and looked far too good to be in such a twisted club.

Somehow, she managed to make her way over to the bar, where she recognized a figure with his back turned towards her, making a cocktail. It was only seconds after when he turned around, dimpled face on display, he almost spilled the drink on him with how fast he stopped upon seeing her.

His eyes whipped around wildly around the club before walking over to her and whispering, "You shouldn't be here! Didn’t Luke forbid you from coming here? You need to leave!"

"Nice to see you too, Ash," Bambi couldn't help the sarcasm falling off of her lips before she asked, "Luke never got home. Is everything ok?"

"Everything's fine, he just got caught up with some paperwork and stuff, he should be back soon,"

"Paperwork?" She asked suspiciously, raising an eyebrow at the gang member.

"Well yeah, just updating a file on the drug run today just to say it went well," Ashton shrugged lightly, "he should be done soon."

Even though Ashton shrugged it off well, Bambi knew he was lying. She could feel it in her bones, in her gut, that he was lying and she was determined to find out the truth.

She shrugged lightly, "Well if it's just paperwork then he won't mind me being there."

With that, she stalked away from the bar in search of the backrooms, wasting no time for Ashton to catch up with her as she went on her way. She walked around the back hallways, looking for any indication of Luke's presence.

The rooms were silent. All but one.

"Please! I don't know anything! Stop!" It was a plead filled with both pain and desperation but it was quickly cut off with the sound of a swift but powerful hit.

Her pulse raced, legs shakily making their way towards the room, gently pushing the door open. It was silent, the door, cracking open so that the small girl could see.

Bambi felt sick.

She could see her boyfriend’s blond curls held up in a hair tie she had loaned him earlier this morning, bloody hand reaching up high as he punched the poor boy on the chair again.

“I’ll give you one more chance before I use something more than my hand,” He threatened gruffly, causing Bambi to flinch. Her breath was caught in her throat, eyes welling up in tears. She knew she shouldn’t have been so upset, she knew her boyfriend was a gang member, but something about seeing him doing this to someone with the same hands that caressed her and made her feel safe felt...wrong.

Suddenly, Ashton entered another door that entered into the room that Luke was in, alerting both Luke and Michael, who had been overlooking the situation. Only then did Bambi realize that Luke had picked up an object, it glinting in the light as he moved towards the door that Ashton had entered.

Luke was holding a knife.

A soft gasp escaped Bambi’s lips, thankfully not loud enough for Luke to hear. She didn’t want him near her, not right now anyway. She didn’t even want him to look at her.

“She’s here! You need to stop, Luke!” Bambi took that as her clear to get the hell out of there. If what Ashton said was true, about Luke being mad she was here, she didn’t want him to find her. Not anymore, anyway.

She didn’t want him to get anywhere near him. How could she possibly sleep at night knowing the man that slept beside her, that played with her hair, that made her feel safe, did that to people? What if he got so mad that he did that to her?

She was being irrational, but at that moment she couldn’t help it.

She shuffled backward, away from the door that led to the room Luke was in, choosing to swiftly get away from him now that she could.

Now, she wasn’t scared for Luke, she was scared of Luke.

“Hey kid, where are you goin'?” Calum asked as she crashed into his chest, making her stumble back lightly, mouth ajar.

She went to speak, to come up with some excuse but she didn’t have time. She couldn’t sit here and entertain Calum with a nice, little conversation when she was trying to evade her boyfriend.

That’s why she just turned, maneuvering around her, and started to run.

“Bambi!” The girl became rigid as she heard him shout, becoming increasingly aware that he had caught up to her, and was planning on talking to her. It was almost as if she was frozen in place, unable to move into the car and unable to move towards him, not that she wanted to. However, she could hear him come to a stop behind her, his voice softer as he spoke, trying not to gather any attention towards the couple, “Why are you here? I thought I told you that you weren’t allowed at the club?”

Her mouth ran dry, unable to respond. In fact, she acted as if she never heard him speak, afraid of what he would do if she pissed him off. Yet, her silence was probably the most angering thing to the tall blond boyfriend of hers, which became obvious when he spoke next.

“Bambi? Let me get you out of here, I’ll drive,” He went to grab the car keys out of her hand, but she had seen his shadow when he went to grab them, quickly jerking out of his grasp, turning around, and staring up at him.

She didn’t miss the slight shock in his eyes when she did so, or the irritancy that bubbled deep beneath. Her throat felt thick, clouded, but she quickly cleared it, voice forceful as she stared up at the gang member, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Bambi, what the hell are you talking about? Just let me drive and we can talk about this when we get home lets not cause a scene,” Luke was trying to reason with the girl, not cause a scene in front of his men, but Bambi was not having it. She wasn’t about to get into a car with him, shaking her head wildly, “Bambi.”

His tone was a warning, deep voice, cold tone. It was demanding but Bambi was not in the mood for Luke to boss her about, especially not right now.

“What? You don’t want people to realize that we’re fighting and that I’m your girlfriend, is that it?” The words were flying out of the girl’s mouth before she could stop them and Luke’s blue eyes glared down at her, his jaw ticking.

“Is this really what this is about?” Luke asked, referring to the argument they had gone through all of those weeks ago. Yet, that it isn’t. The problem was that Bambi saw something she wasn’t supposed to, that Luke had tried to shield her from as best as he could. Even if it meant that she wasn’t allowed near his favorite club.

“You nearly killed him, Luke.”

Her voice was painfully quiet, muttering in a way that makes it obvious she had to force the words out. Her fists are clenched at her sides, her eyes looking down to evade the scrutiny of his gaze.

“Bambi you don’t know what you saw-”

“You had a knife, Luke! I saw you punch him just look at your hands right now they’re-” She stopped briefly, glancing down at the man’s hands, the ones that gave her such tender, sweet love. The ones that made her feel safe, yet now? All she seen was all of the blood coating them, some dry some relatively fresh, “they’re covered in his blood.”

Luke flexed his hands slightly, feeling the blood coating them become ever so evident, “What else am I supposed to do? What do you think I’ve been doing all this time? I work in a fucking gang, you knew this.”

“I didn’t think-” The girl cut herself off, shaking her head as tears rose to her eyes, shielding her view.

“What the fuck do you think I do? Hand out fucking rainbow stickers and give them a nice hug? That’s not how this works, you know this,” His voice was harsh, and slowly rising to a loud level, and all Bambi wants is to go and hide away from him; to be by herself. She can’t handle this, not right now.

“How can you expect me to be ok with this?” The girl asked, “It’s sick! It’s twisted! You could have killed that guy!”

“Don’t suddenly go getting morals just because you saw a bit of fucking blood! We’re leaving. Now,” His voice is demanding, loud and borderline shouting, his hand coming down towards her rapidly to grab the car keys off of her but then he froze at the movement from the small girl in front of him.

She flinched.

Silence filled them both.

The tears that tracked down her face started to build in his eyes, his heart dropping to his feet when he saw the girl cower. It was barely for a second when she shielded her head, in the same place he had hit that guy barely five minutes before like he was going to hit her.

He spluttered with his mouth ajar. Bambi, his Bambi, the one he had worked so hard to protect, to love, to cherish, was scared of him. He just wanted to comfort her, to hold her close and let her know that everything was going to be okay. Yet, he couldn’t comfort her that he would battle all her fears when he was what she was scared of.

“Bambi...” It was a sad plead.

The girl never replied, tears becoming thicker as she shook her head. She was overcome with emotions. Afraid, sad, ashamed, angry; she wasn’t entirely sure what she was feeling at that moment.

“Bambi I’d never...”

The girl wouldn’t look him in the eyes. Never in his whole life had Luke felt so ashamed of himself. Ashamed that he would ever let a fragment of his girl believe he would ever harm her or put her in harm’s way.

He would do everything to make sure she was okay.

“I need to go,” The girl gingerly wiped her tears with her -Luke’s- jumper, the large sleeves rolled up but still covering her hands fully. She entered the car and Luke made no move to stop her, he didn’t care that she had taken one of his cars at that moment, he didn’t care that she had disobeyed his orders of coming to the club, he didn’t care about anything other than how he had wronged her.

Then, he was left by himself, in the middle of the club’s back parking lot, blood still coating his hands that even made him feel sick now. The cold night air nipped at his skin, yet again reminding him that he was void of her warmth. He was all alone.

He returned home all of twenty minutes later, a fresh pair of clothes on and hands bare of blood. The house was quiet but he knew that she was there, the bedroom door ever so slightly ajar, a faint light emitting from the room.

He leaned against the door frame, watching her with a sullen face as she packed. She was only packing a few outfits, not anything major as she sniffed lightly. She was still crying, Luke noticed, and it made his heart ache, “I’m leaving for Anna’s. I just need some time.”

Luke knew he was in no position to argue with the girl right now. She was fragile enough as it is, and even if Luke didn’t want her to leave, she needed space and he respected that.

She slung the overnight bag over her shoulder, hefting it up, “I’ve called an Uber. They’re waiting downstairs.”

Luke nodded as Bambi stopped in front of him, and almost hesitantly, he leaned down, pressing a tender kiss against her forehead, “Stay safe, ok? I love you.”

The girl nodded her head, sending the boy a tight-lipped smile before leaving, leaving Luke alone once again. Yet, despite the heartbreak, he felt in that moment as she left, he knew this wasn’t the end. He’d manage to make it up to her, he was sure of it. He wouldn’t rest easy until he did.

[tulsa-trash]

Dallas x Cherry Headcanons

WARNING(S): swearing, mention of s*xual content, kind of angsty

I’d like to believe that Cherry and Dally would be such a cute “Good Girl with the Bad Boy” couple.

But realistically, especially when considering Dal’s true character, their relationship would most definitely be t o x i c

They would be THAT couple that’s always breaking up and getting back together.

Longest break up they had lasted two weeks, they’re both hella petty so those two weeks were all because they were waiting on each other to see who would reach out first.

Constant bickering and arguments.

Usually over the most minuscule things.

You think Dal is mature enough to not start a fight over who drank the rest of the milk in his apartment???

Think again sis.

“sOmE gUyS mY aGe MaN... ThEy FoRgEt AbOuT dRiNkiNg MiLk.”

^ if you know, you know LMAO

Dal is extremely stubborn, so as you can assume he will never admit to being wrong and he rarely apologizes for anything.

Which leaves most conflict in the relationship unresolved..

So you bet your a*s old sh*t that still bothers them stays getting brought up in new fights.

They both have issues with jealousy.

Dallas is very protective when it comes to the people in his life, as well as territorial.

What belongs to him is his, anyone or anything that tries to meddle with whats his and he’ll go ballistic.

A lot of fights have occurred due to him seeing another guy try to approach her and flirt.

Def is that douchebag boyfriend that tries to tell her what she can and can’t wear.

“Change out of that right now.”

“Dal, I love this skirt no way!”

“I’ll rip it off you if I have to.”

But Dal ain’t no saint though lemme tell you bbg.

A lot of their arguments stem up from Cherry seeing him with other girls.

Cherry isn’t blind, she knows that Dallas Winston isn’t the type of man that’s going to remain faithful and settle down with anyone.

Knowing that, the thought of him getting bored of her and leaving is one of her biggest fears.

Still doesn’t stop her from staying with that stupid, handsome, bastard.

The t o x i c i t y I--

She once found a letter left behind for him in his room at Buck’s, it was hanging from a magnet on the fridge...

“Thanks for the fun night, hope to do it again sometime.” -Sylvia

She crumpled it up, threw it away, and never even spoke a word about it.

Although it still eats at her every single day..

One time when Dal got locked up, Cherry wanted to visit him. Begged her parents to let her borrow the car to go see him, they refused and instead she was given a lecture about how she shouldn’t be wasting her time with that “criminal.”

Pleaded with her friends who had cars to give her a ride, said they wouldn’t be caught dead outside of the police station with her.

Ended up walking with Ponyboy to go see him.

Speaking of good ol' pone bone, he was extremely butthurt when he found out they were dating.

Legit avoided Dallas for like a week after he found out.

Anywaysssss enough with all the angsty stuff lemme talk about some of the cute stuff.

On some occasions where Dal really f*cks up and doesn’t know how to fix it, he will go out and get her small gifts.

Such as candy, jewelry, food, etc.

Sometimes he will even send Marcia with some money to a boutique to get her a new article of clothing.

Because let’s be honest here, Dally would never step foot inside of a boutique lol.

If that doesn’t work then he always pulls her up into a huge hug when he see’s her, lifting her up off the ground and squeezes her tightly. She can’t ever resist the urge to giggle when he starts kissing her all over her face.

“You still mad at me, brat?”

“I’m always gonna be mad at you, Winston.”

He let her braid his hair once... never again will that happen.

“Wow, Dal! You sure do look pretty.”

“Shut up.”

“I think I’m gonna start callin’ ya ‘doll’ instead of ‘babe’.”

“Don’t even push it, kid.”

Dal sneaks through her bedroom window unannounced practically whenever he feels like it.

Even if she’s not home, you know this man got the balls to just sit and wait. Get a nice nap in on her bed.

He also peeps in her underwear drawer whoopsie what a perv.

“What the hell are you doing here!? you got any idea how much trouble I’ll be in if my parents catch you in here!?”

“Jeez, babe. I come over to surprise you and that’s how you’re gonna greet me?”

They went to get their first tattoos together !!

Well she went to watch Dally get one, then he convinced her to get one too.

Let’s just say Cherry has a tiny tattoo of a butterfly on her ankle that no one other than Dallas knows of.

He ended up getting a tattoo for Johnny on his forearm.

I’m not crying you’re crying.

He gives Cherry his Christopher.

“Am I the tenth girl that has received the honor of wearin’ this?”

“The second. I’m hopin’ I can trust you with it more than I did the last girl.”

Cherry confessed that she loved him one night when she was drunk.

She threw up on his floor right afterwards.

She woke up the next morning laying in bed with him, hungover and totally confused.

She can’t even remember the events of that night, Dally claimed that he didn’t either.

He remembered though.

And he was relieved that she didn’t remember the part where he said I love you too.

[kenmasgameboy]

May I ask for 61 and 2 were Iwaizumi cheated on the reader, and Oikawa knew but never told the reader even tho they were best friends. And she leaves them behind. Cause fuck cheaters. Angsty angst please!

bruh the way this shit made me FEEL WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU UGH im SAD. also i ended up writing SO MUCH for this omg. I loved this prompt a lot more than i thought i did. I think i put into it what i wish i said to my ex who cheated on me with my best friend. fuck!! cheaters!!

TW: arguments, long distance relationship, cheating and betrayal, swear words.

2. “When did you stop loving me?”

61. “You don’t smile anymore.”

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

You had known these boys for ages. Looking at Oikawa and Iwaizumi made you feel like you were home. Iwaizumi, the man that would send you into the heavens and make you feel safe beyond any amount of doubt. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t in love with him. You don’t remember a time when you weren’t with your best friends.

But recently things are different. University made everything hard and it was like a wall had been driven between you and your happiness. The first year was the hardest, you would call Iwaizumi every night or every other night in the pain of being so far away from someone you loved so much. You’d keep things under control though, you never wanted to worry him. You thought you knew him, that if you exposed how you really felt he’d march down there in an instant. But then somewhere around a month or two into this, he stopped answering. He’d still text you in the mornings, so you didn’t give it much thought and instead turned your attention to your best friend, Oikawa.

Both of them were on the other side of the world from you. Oikawa was away in Argentina, and he still made time to talk to you. Iwaizumi was all the way in California, just doing university and not a university student and a professional volleyball team like Oikawa was. He was a completely different person than you used to know.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Oikawa looked over at you after about a 5-minute long pause of silence in your conversation. You were staring at your phone. You took in a deep sigh. Iwaizumi hadn’t texted in two days.

“Nothing, I’m sure it’s nothing.” You brushed it off, trying your hardest to hide those tears that threatened to sting you and fall down.

“You can tell me, right? Is it something at school? Have you made any friends?” Oikawa asked you. Reaching his hand out and laying his head against his bicep. 

“A few.” You shrugged.

“Y/N-chan, I don’t want to sound like Iwa, but I’m worried about you. You don’t smile anymore. Have you thought about going home for a few days?” He offered as a possible solution.

“I don’t want to go home if you guys aren’t there.” You grumbled, “But I was Hajime’s thanksgiving break is coming up next month, I was thinking about surprising him since I know he’ll have a week off with nothing to do.”

“I’m offended you aren’t coming to visit me!” Oikawa whined.

“I will when you finally give yourself a break!” You teased, “Plus, honestly he hasn’t texted me in days. I know it sounds stupid, we’ve been together for years, but I feel like I need to see him. Something just doesn’t feel right.”

“I think you should. But maybe you should tell him you’re coming before you go?” Oikawa suggested. Fiddling with his hair in between his index finger and thumb. 

“No way, that takes all the fun out! You said it yourself you hadn’t seen me smile recently. This will give me a reason to smile. Once I go there and we figure everything out, I’ll have my reasons again. Just please don’t tell him! I don’t want to get his hopes up and if I suddenly can’t afford it or something then he’d be disappointed.” You begged your friend, and he solemnly nodded before needing to leave.

You kept to your plan. You got on that long flight to California, landing alone and getting a uber to your boyfriend's apartment. You were so thankful you guys swapped sharing locations before leaving, it made this so much easier. You got to the door and fixed yourself nice and pretty before pulling out your phone and recording. You wanted to keep his face of surprise forever.

You knocked on the door, but the person who was surprised was you. A woman opened the door in a towel. Your face dropping.

“Is this Iwaizumi’s apartment?” You had one last shred of hope in you, you had one last string of hope in you. Please, anything but this.

“Oh my god! Wait you’re Y/N right? Hajime and Tooru always talk about you.” She smiled widely, offering her hand to you, “I’m Jess, I’m his girlfriend. He didn’t say you were coming by.”

“Babe, who is it?” You heard the love of your life's voice coming from the shower. You stopped recording on your phone.

You couldn’t control yourself, you pushed the woman in front of you to the side before she could answer for you. You ran into his bathroom, your tear-filled eyes meeting his through the shower curtain.

“Surprise.” You said your heart being smashed to pieces on the ground as you meet his face. His eyebrows raised, his body limp. He knew he was caught.

“Y/N.. What are you doing here? No, no wait.” You tried not listening to him, you walked away. Not wanting him to see your tears fall anymore, he didn’t deserve that side of you anymore. 

“Wait, who the fuck are you?” Jess asked you on your way out the door.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” Iwaizumi called from behind you. Following you into the street in nothing but his gym shorts.

“Stop, Hajime! I can’t even fucking look at you!” You couldn’t help but raise your voice. 

“Y/N, please I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You weren’t supposed to find out like this–” He grabbed you by the wrist but you just ripped it away from him.

“Don’t touch me! Are you fucking serious? What did you think I would say? I knew you were distant, I didn’t know if it was the timezone or what but now I understand.” It took all the strength in you to stand and face him. Your body running on the adrenaline of the betrayal and anger that coursed through you. “You fucking asshole. 4 years for it to end like this? I loved you so much. I wanted to marry you! You couldn’t have at least broken up with me like a man when you find a new girlfriend.” 

“She’s not my girlfriend– I don’t know why she told you that, babe I don’t want this to end–” Iwaizumi tried coming up with absolutely anything to say to you. The truth was he hadn’t thought about what to say at this moment. He’d replayed it in his head multiple times when he laid with other girls, at some point he convinced himself he could get away with it. That maybe he’d never have to tell you. Obviously, that dream came down in a crumbling wave of hurt and disappointment.

“Don’t you dare call me the same thing you called her. Like it even matters if you called her your girlfriend or not! It’s obviously been going on for some time. So tell me, Iwaizumi, when did you stop loving me? I need to hear it so I stop being so blind in the future.” You choked out the last bit of your words, tears fell into your mouth. You were sure you looked the ugliest you’d ever looked. It embarrassed you, but you needed to know. After this, you’d never see him again.

“I–I can’t answer that.” Iwaizumi was crying in front of you. Rubbing his eyes on the back of his wrists. “I still love you–”

“No you don’t. Iwaizumi, you feel guilty. That’s not love. I want to know how long, was she ever there when I was calling you because of how badly I missed your voice.” You refused his confession. His eyes widened, you couldn’t tell if it was the realization or the way it hurt to be rejected by you. Either way, his silence was enough to answer for you at that time.

“Did Tooru know?” You asked next to his lack of response.

“What?”

“You’re girlfriend said you and Tooru talk about me a lot. So both the closest people in my life lied to me, right? They lied to my face.” You asked him again, wanting to speed this up and get the hell out of there. He hung his head. You let out one last hiccup of pain.

“I asked him to, I told him I would tell you myself. Don’t be mad at him–” Iwaizumi begged you this time but it was too late.

“If he were a real friend of mine he should’ve told me, but he chose his side. When you stopped answering I was on the facetime with him every day. He had plenty of chances. You’re too late, Hajime. Tell Oikawa that I’m never speaking to either of you again. I’m blocking your numbers and I’m going back to Japan the next chance I can get.” You backed away, your head hanging. You didn’t know if you had any more hot tears to shed. They burned your cheeks. You hung your head down, trying to drop them onto the street instead of on your cheeks.

“Y/N... Please...” He begged weakly, his arm extending to touch your shoulder. He tried to bring you into his chest but you put your hands out to his chest. Your skin felt like it was going to fall off, he didn’t give you the comforting feeling of love and home and happiness anymore.

“No. This is the last time you’re ever seeing me.” You said it, looking into his eyes one final time. You could never do this, you felt like everything had been flushed down a clogged toilet. How would you ever move on from this?

“Where are you going?” He asked you, trailing at your heels.

“Away from you.” You spat, pulling out your phone. You were trying to look for an uber in the area.

“No, please let me take you somewhere safe, this isn’t a good neighborhood! And I know you got a C in English. Please, I’ll protect you, even if I need to follow from further away or something, I can call you someone and we can talk again tomorrow–” Iwaizumi was really trying, he pulled out his own phone and tried to look for something in his contacts list but you refused. 

“That’s coming from the person who hurt me the most. You have no place in my life anymore. Just leave me the hell alone.” You said this without looking behind you, “Goodbye, Hajime.” 

┗━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┛

jenna’s 5k celebration dialogue prompts!

[padfootagain]

Infuriating

Here we go for a new fic for my 4.7k event!! Answering the request made by @inkhearthes​ for Sirius using the following prompt (they are written in italics in the fic):

9. "Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

10. "I can't believe you got punched in the face."

"For you. I got punched in the face for you."

11. "It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

34. "Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!"

It's fluffy. A tiny bit angsty, maybe? I'm not sure, I think it's pretty fluffy.

Anyway, I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Word Count : 3683

Of course, you had to be duelling against Sirius fucking Black.

Of course, out of all the students in seventh year with you, you had to be paired with the one you hated the most.

You found him absolutely infuriating. 1000% infuriating. The most annoying person on the surface of the Earth, you reckoned.

You had been facing him for five seconds and you were already so mad at his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

Argh! Really, he was insufferable!

And why did he even pick you? You knew the reason, of course, it was just to allow his idiotic best friend to try and seduce your idiotic best friend… as if Lily wasn't already just as head over heels for James than he was for her…

And so, you found yourself paired with Sirius fucking Black, of all people, and you wanted to slap this smirk of his away, or maybe kiss it, you weren't 100% sure yet.

Because, of course, you got along perfectly well with Sirius. You were both playful and full of banter, and he was charming despite being an idiot sometimes, and he was smart too, and talented, and very very sweet, and a little dangerous maybe and…

… and you had a crush on him.

Huge, HUGE crush on him, and that was bad. Very bad. Terrible. Especially because the crush you had wasn't really a crush and more like love.

So, you were mad at him. So mad at him for making you fall for him when you never even intended to befriend him in the first place, let alone love him. And yet, there you were. All this because he was just an absolute sweetheart with a stupid sense of humour and a heart of gold despite all the pain he had been through during his childhood, and had cheekbones to die for.

Of course, how could you resist him?

So now, there you were, about to duel you friend, aka crush, aka potential love of your life, and he was acting so smug about it you heaved a defeated sigh.

Both of you knew that you were better at duelling than he was, and you would soon kick his pretty arse, but you almost felt bad for it. You had your bloody, irrational heart to blame for it all.

Your teacher was gone for just a few minutes to fetch something - you were too focused on watching Sirius laugh at that moment to listen to your professor about what he was leaving the room for.

All you knew was that there was no teacher in the room, which quickly turned into some nasty argument between a few students behind you.

Why was your name even brought up in the first place, you had no idea. All you knew was that before you could understand what was really going on, one of the Ravenclaw boys you had rejected a couple of weeks before was shooting nasty comments at you.

But when the word slut rang through the room, the whole situation got out of hands.

"Hey, Trevor, why don't you shut it!" Sirius snapped before you could have time to reply on your own.

"Sorry, Black, What were you saying? Were you talking to me?"

"I told you to shut your stupid mouth! How dare you talk about her like that? Especially you, Trevor, considering that you have the brain of a mandrake: all you can do is whine all day long."

"Say that again to my face, just to see, Black!"

"Oh, but with pleasure…"

"Sirius!" you tried to hold him back as he strode across the room, meeting Trevor halfway, standing chest against chest and taunting each other to hit first.

James and Remus had taken a step towards the boys too, ready to defend their friend if need be.

You walked over the two of them and pulled at Sirius's sleeve.

"Sirius, please. He's not worth it."

"Yes, Black, listen to your girlfriend… oh wait, you ain't together. Yeah, I bet she rejected your sorry arse."

"Coming from you, who can only insult every girl who refuses a date, I find the blow particularly ironic."

"Don't worry though, I bet she's not a good enough shag anyway. Probably aren't worth the trouble…"

"Say one more word and I'll turn you into a toad," Sirius warned the Ravenclaw, grabbing him by the collar of his robes.

He was so blinded by his rage towards the boy that he didn't see anything else in the room.

How could he dare speak of you like this? You of all people? You, who were a literal ray of sunshine, and so incredibly talented, and bright, and kind, and smart, and hilarious, and he was head over heels for you. Sirius was ready to lose his mind with how much he loved you. Had for years. Had since that night in third year where he had caught you making a trip to the kitchens at midnight and had ended up sharing his snacks with you. Since that moment that you had laughed so much you had ended up chocking on your pudding. Since that night when, for the first time, you talked through the whole night. Since that early morning when you had cried when he had told you about how his family treated him. Since the second you had wrapped your arms around him and promised him that if he needed help, he just had to call you, and you would protect him.

And now hearing some idiotic ghoul insult you was making his blood boil so much that he wasn't able to notice anything happening around him, including Trevor's fist flying across the air to land on his cheekbone and make a clear cut through his skin.

Sirius was hitting the floor before he could understand what had happened, and his body had barely hit the ground that you and the rest of the Marauders were pointing your wands towards the Ravenclaw and his friends.

You were interrupted by the sound of footsteps of your professor coming back, though.

"Y/N, get Sirius to the hospital wing," James instructed, but his friend was already back on his feet, shaking his head.

"I'm fine, Prongs. 'S just a scratch."

"You're bleeding," you argued, but he shot you a grin as an answer.

"You should still go," Remus jumped in. "Or we might all end up in detention."

You grabbed Sirius's hand.

"Come on, you idiot."

"Hey!"

But you ignored his protest and dragged him into the corridor and away from the class, heading for the Hospital Wing.

"Now, I'm not sure that if we truly want to avoid detention, going straight to Mrs. Pomfrey would be the cleverest idea," Sirius argued. "Besides, it's nothing."

You had to agree with him on that, going to Mrs. Pomfrey would get both of you in detention. It was pretty obvious by the look of Sirius's cheekbone, bloody and slowly turning from pinkish to purple, that he had been punched.

"I think I can patch you up," you offered, taking a closer look at his bruising face.

"Perfect. Let's go to my dorm then. We won't be disturbed there."

You accepted with a nod, and followed him all the way to the Gryffindor tower and to his dormitory. And the more you walked across the castle, the angrier you were. Sirius was hurt, and it was because of you. You wanted to go back and turn Trevor into a lizard. You wanted to punch him too.

And what was Sirius thinking? Acting so recklessly?

The wound colouring his cheekbone wasn't serious, but it still needed to be cleaned, so he reached for the bandages and bottles of disinfectants that the boys kept for their monthly trip to the whomping willow, just in case.

It's only when he let himself plop onto his bed with a sigh that Sirius noticed that you were glaring at him.

"What's wrong, Y/N?" he asked, tilting his head to the side.

And Merlin, did he annoy you… what was wrong? He was bleeding!

"I can't believe you got punched in the face." You shook your head.

"For you. I got punched in the face for you," Sirius corrected you, waving his finger at you pointedly, a smug smile on his face. "I reckon that you owe me one!"

"Why by Agrippa's name would you do that?" you asked, ignoring his stupid remark.

Because you weren't in the mood for his stupid charm, and his insufferable smug smiles, and his silly humour, and the way he always hid his pain behind wits. You weren't in the mood for any of that, you weren't in the mood for the way he always tried to look tougher than he was, because for so long no one had showed him any other way to deal with his emotions, except by bottling them all up in his chest. And you were tired of his tough act, and all you wanted to do now was shake some sense into his head and make him realize that someone had just hit him, and for what?! Because Trevor had insulted you?! That was most definitely not enough of a reason to get punched in the face.

But he looked at you with a curious frown, as if he didn't understand why you asked that question, as if the answer was obvious.

"He… He was making fun of you. He was insulting you. So, I defended you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"We're friends, you don't have to ask me to. I'll be there whenever you need me."

"Who says I needed you back there?"

He didn't answer, studying your expression with an unreadable look across his features.

Why were you mad?

You didn't say anything more, and reached for a clean clothe instead.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not that... OUCH!"

Sirius bucked away as you harshly pressed the piece of fabric against his wounded cheek.

"Now, don't be a baby," you mumbled under your breath, a deep frown adorning your brow.

"I'm not being a baby! You're the one being as delicate as a cave troll! Besides… what the hell is wrong with you?!"

"What?"

"What is wrong with you? Why are you mad at me?" Sirius snapped, his voice staying low, but his tone as corrosive as acid. "I've just got punched in the face for you, and you're mad at me?!"

"Yes, I am mad at you, Sirius," you replied, throwing the clothe away in exasperation. "I am mad at you, because you got punched in the face! What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking that you needed me…"

"I don't need you, Sirius!"

The words escaped before you could refrain them, even if they were a mere lie.

Of course, you needed him. That was the point, actually. You needed him safe, and happy, and laughing. You needed his stupid long dark hair, and his bloody cute chin, and his stormy grey eyes that didn't seem to have an end, and those stupid lips you dreamt about kissing…

And you needed the way he always hid his pain behind wits, and the way he made you laugh every morning when you drank your fist swing of tea on purpose just to make you choke on it and look at how mad it made you with that stupid smirk plastered on his lips. And you needed the way he always held the door for you, and how he didn't even ask before he would pick up the mountain of books you were taking from the library for your essays. And you needed the way he said your name in that deep voice of his, and this almost-shy smile he gave you every month when he walked back from Hogsmeade and offered you a bunch of sweets from Honeydukes. Always your favourites. Every single trip to Hogsmeade ever since you had been allowed there during your third year. You needed to hear his laugh ringing through the corridors, so loud that you were aware of his presence way before seeing him. You needed his stupid pranks and his even more idiotic acts of kindness. You needed his broken parts and all his scars if only to help him make them slowly get better. You needed him. You needed him so badly, it hurt sometimes, right there, in your chest, and there was no way, absolutely no way that you would let him endanger himself for you.

You needed him more than you needed your pride or reputation.

Yet, it was the opposite that your tongue formed on its tip as you spoke.

And the words kept on ringing through his mind like a broken record, and it was more painful at each echo of your voice.

I don't need you, Sirius.

Well, that was clear, at least. No need for Sirius to keep his hopes up anymore. He had kept on hoping for you to maybe, one day, feel for him something else than a platonic friendship, but clearly you weren't on the same page. Instead, you didn't need him.

And he hated you, then. He truly did. He hated you, because he wished he could have answered with a remark just as poisonous and painful as your words had been, but he couldn’t. Not that he didn't find the right words, no the problem was more insidious.

He couldn't say it.

He couldn’t, because then, he imagined the pain crossing your features, and he couldn't bring himself to be the reason behind any of your sorrow. He was used to it, really. Being in pain in silence. Taking the punch without saying a word. Swallowing the insults without fighting back. Years of survival skills had developed while he was a child. Now, he was excellent at biting his tongue and imagining what scenarios could come out as a result of his words. He had made progress over his years spent by James's side to loosen up that tendency of his to overthink everything. That, coupled with his natural will to rebel, and he was good now at fighting with both his curses and his remarks. But not to you. No, not against you. He didn't want to use this weapon with you. He knew way too well that words were often way more effective at hurting someone than fists. The wounds cut deeper, and the scars never healed. He knew for certain that he would never forget the look on your face as you said that you didn't need him.

And he couldn't summon the strength to reply with words that would be just as painful. He had just gotten punched in the face for you, after all. That ought to speak about the way he felt for you.

So, instead of replying, he walked out of the room, leaving you behind.

It took you two hours to find him.

It was raining so hard, and the late days of September had brought a cold wind that curved the veil of droplets as they fell from the heavy black clouds above your head. The sun had almost set by now, and judging by how you were hungry, you guessed it was time for supper in the great hall. Your feet were frozen because of the mud that covered your ankles and splashed across your calves.

You had checked the shores of the lake, and Hagrid's home, and the edge of the Forest, and the Quidditch Pitch. But he was sitting a few meters away from the Whomping Willow.

He didn't seem to mind that his robes were covered in mud and drenched by now. Actually, he didn't even react as you hurried towards him.

"Sirius!" you called as you approached him. "What are you doing? It's freezing, and it's raining, you'll catch your death!"

He slowly turned his attention towards you, his grey eyes fixed upon you, his dark locks clinging to his forehead, his neck, his temples, because of the heavy rain. With the sadness in his gaze, he looked like a sad and wet puppy.

"Let's go inside," you mumbled. "You'll catch a cold, or worse. For how long have you been here?"

He took the time to look carefully at you, finding that you were just as drenched as he was, shivering in the cold rain.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, ignoring your own question.

"I was looking for you, obviously," you answered. "Now, come on, let's get you dry…"

"You were looking for me?"

"Of course! You just… disappeared, I was worried sick about you!"

He merely blinked up at you.

You heaved a sigh, swallowing your pride with the lump in your throat. You had to apologize for lying to him, and acting like an idiot, when he had simply tried to help.

You were such an idiot, sometimes…

"Look, Sirius… I'm sorry about what I said in the dorm. I didn't mean it. Please, let's go back inside."

"It's okay. I'm not mad at you," he answered with a soft smile.

"What?"

"I'm not mad. You're right, you don't need me. I was acting as if you did, but I was wrong. I guess… I thought we were closer friends than you mean for us to be. It's okay. I understand."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm used to it, really. It's fine. Sometimes, I start needing people more than they need me. It's alright, I get it."

"No, no… No, Sirius, you don't get it. I was just mad because you got punched in the face, and I was worried about you, and I said utter nonsense…"

"No need to feel bad about all this. It's okay."

"It's not okay! It's not okay, because it wasn't true!"

"Y/N…"

"It's not okay at all, how can you say that it's okay?!" you asked, starting to raise your voice. "I hurt you! And I was mean! And I shouldn't have said that, because it's not true at all! So be mad at me!"

"I… I don't want to be mad at you…"

"I'm sorry!"

"I forgive you, alright… are you, are you crying?"

It's only then that you noticed that hot tears were mingling with the cold rain across your cheeks.

"I'm so sorry. I never want to make you feel like that. I'm so sorry," you whimpered.

"It's… it's alright."

"I was lying. It's not true. Please, don't say that we're not friends anymore. I do need you. I do need you, Sirius. And I hate it! I hate it, but I need you! And it's… It's dark, and it's late, and I'm cold and I'm drenched with this freaking rain and yet all I can think about is that I love you."

You didn't seem to notice your confession as it passed your lips, and for a moment, Sirius wondered if he had heard you right. But there was no mistake, you… you had said it.

You loved him?!

Slowly, he stood up, while you kept on crying.

"I was just mad at you because… because you mean so much to me, and I… I hate to see you hurting. I hate to see you in pain. And I hate it… I hate it when people are mean to you. I'm so sorry. I was so worried about you. I'm…"

But you were shushed by Sirius's arms wrapping around you, encaging you all of a sudden. You needed a few seconds for your brain to register what was actually happening. But it was his arms pressed against your back, and it was his chest against yours, and it was his cheek against yours.

"It's alright," he spoke in a soft, warm voice. "I'm not mad. I forgive you."

Finally, you wrapped your arms around his frame too, your tears finally stopping.

"Thank you, for defending me," you eventually whispered in his ear, your warm breath such a burning contrast with the cold air against his skin, making him tremble in the best way.

"Anytime. We should go back inside though, you're frozen."

"Yeah, I'm really cold."

"You know what… I think we could cuddle. Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles!" he mumbled, making you sway from one foot to the other, and you couldn’t refrain a laugh at his silly behaviour.

"I'd like that," you nodded. "With blankets."

He hummed in agreement.

"But… are we gonna discuss the fact that you've just told me you love me?"

Your heart stopped altogether.

"Did I?" you asked, although you knew perfectly well that he was right.

What had passed through your brain to make you say something like that?

"Yeah, you did."

You looked for the right words to apologize, but Sirius was faster than you to speak again.

"So… What about we go to Hogsmeade together next month?"

You pulled away just enough to be able to look at him.

"Are you… Are you asking me on a date?" you asked.

"Maybe…"

"Maybe?"

"Depends on… whether you'll say yes or no."

"What would we do then, if it's a date?"

"I have a few ideas. Know about a couple of places we could visit. I know you'll like them."

"Already? You already know what we're gonna do? Even if you've literally just asked?"

"Maybe… just maybe… I've been imagining that for a while," he admitted, blushing.

You couldn't help the grin that formed on your lips.

"Really?"

"Yeah… really… but… huh… you have to give me an answer before I get my hopes too high…"

But your grin didn't waver. And when you stared at his eyes, he could read your answer already, without needing you to speak the words.

Still, it was a nice thing to hear, and a nice thing to say, so you answered out loud anyway.

Merlin, Sirius was infuriating. And you loved him so much.

"Yeah, I'd like to go on a date with you, Sirius Black."

 ***********************************************

Tag list : @geeksareunique @giggleberts @justanothermaraudersblog @sad-orange-thoughts @aylinnmaslow @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @mikeselevenn @knowledgeisthebomb​ @madamrogers​ @newtstarmander​ @wangmangagavroche​ @inkhearthes​

@ponycake27​ @horsesreign​ @xinyourdreamsx​ @jbluevelvet​ @notkeppeki @daynigt-dreamer-stuff @fudgeflyss @stuckupstucky​ @snek-shit @suchatinyinfinity​ @i-padfootblack-things  @buckybsarmy @heyohheyitsgabi​@jigsawlover10 @emyyjemyy @addictedtofictionalcharacters​ @staringmoony​

[zodiyack]

Wrong Girl, Right Time

Requested by anon: Helloo! I am a big fan of your writing and I had an idea about a kinda dark angsty tommy x reader fic taking place in season 1 where the reader is a childhood of the boys and when tommy spends his first night with Grace inspector Campbell goes after the reader (maybe one of his men physically assaults her) and tommy learns about it the next day and realises he messed up big time and tries to fix everything. Thank you so much and I will understand if you don't want to do it.

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Female!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst that was written while half asleep, implied smut, physical assault, fluff, me not proofreading

Note: Aaa! I hope you like it, I tried! Enjoy!

Taglist: @captivatedbycillianmurphy, @stydia-4-ever, @matth1w, @redspaceace, @jenepleurepasbaby, @simonsbluee, @peakysputain​

Masterlist | Peaky Blinders Masterlist

Y/n walked back to her sofa, wrapping her sweater tighter around her body. The warmth of Tommy’s kind hugs, the firewood he’d bring her after he’d scold her for risking her life living in such a cold temperature, the smiles that warmed her insides- even if they weren’t directed toward her.

She sighed, plopping down on the cushions. She’d fallen for Tommy, since they were kids, and she had no idea how to tell him. Or if he even felt the same.

“Fuck.” She rolled over, curling into a ball and hugging herself, hoping for warmth. Hoping for Tommy to show up with firewood even if it meant he’d scold her. Hoping for Tommy to hug her tightly and kiss her hairline even if it meant she’d have to suffer knowing it was platonically. Y/n didn’t care the consequence, she just wanted him.

And somewhere out there, he was with her. Just not Y/n “her”. It was the woman he gave his heart too. Or rather, wanted to give his heart to, but, for once in his life, he broke down and verbally admitted he was too much of a coward to do so.

They danced together. Twirling around the room. Lust filled Tommy’s eyes, a mirrored look in Grace’s. They leaned in, connecting their lips and relieving themselves of the desire they both knew they felt.

Outside of Grace’s place, was officer Campbell. Tommy knew. He knew the man would have a high chance of coming across this. And he could care less for the man’s thoughts on the situation.

He smiled softly into the kiss, deepening it and their contact, suddenly becoming more cocky inside knowing Campbell saw him and Grace. But the lust remained, and like he’d told others and himself time and time again, he just really couldn’t find the fucks to give.

Unfortunately, thanks to his discovery, Campbell decided to retaliate. He knew of Y/n L/n. The girl who hung around the Shelby boys as a young girl, who looked at Tommy with longing in her eyes, who smiled and hid the hurt in her heart when she met Grace.

He chuckled as he walked to the girl’s home. He sent his men to the door, told them to break in, have two grab Y/n, rough up the place and then meet in the living room with the girl.

Officer Campbell kicked a shard of glass that lied on the floor. “Look at this place, Y/n. It’s a bloody wreck!”

“Because of you, asshole!” She spat on his shoes. Campbell gave eye contact to one of the men next to Y/n, and smiled when he heard the sound of a smack and a yelp of pain. Y/n sobbed and looked up at him, a red hand mark rested on her face.

“My goodness, Miss L/n, you really ought to cover that up! Don’t want Tommy thinking you’re a weak link, eh? Maybe he’ll find you ugly, inside and out, when he learns you went insane, trashed up your own place, then fought someone for no reason... and lost.”

She furrowed her eyebrows and big the inside of her cheek.

“What do you think? Y/n?”

Still, Y/n kept quiet, refusing to give into his game. She continued to glare at him, but kept her mouth shut. It pissed him off, to say the least. He nodded to the men again. Another yelp left her mouth. Blood leaked from her nose.

“Ooooh!” The officer scrunched his face in reaction to her face, “That’s got to hurt, doesn’t it? Well I can make it stop hurting. Just tell me whatever you can about your little crush, okay?”

He growled when she didn’t respond. A man behind her yanked her head back with his hold on her hair. A whimper escaped her lips.

“Answer me, you bitch!” She smiled. He returned it with the thought that he’d won. “Good. Now-” His face paled, then crinkled in disgust.

“That’s all I know, sorry love.” Y/n quipped with a mischievous smirk, wiping her mouth on her shoulder and looking down at Campbell’s shoe. A wad of her saliva coated the top of it.

“Alright then, if we can’t get information out of you, we’ll just... leave Tommy a little surprise.” He nodded to the man before walking out the door, the rest of the men following.

“You fucked up big time, princess.”

“Thomas?” His foot steps slowed, then rushed again. His breathing was unsteady as he ran up the stairs and to the room the person he was looking for was occupying.

“Oh God- what did he do to you?” Tommy heard his voice crack as he knelt beside Y/n’s bed. He regretted everything. The night he shared with Grace, the deal he made with Campbell, the mistake of giving Y/n the space she never asked for.

“It’s okay-” she coughed, causing Tommy to wince, “go back to Grace.”

“What? No, are you crazy?” He truly thought she was joking. He smiled with the side of his mouth and forced out a small chuckle of his own. “You need to rest, and I,” He grunted as he sat down next to her, “am not going to leave until you get better.”

“Why? You could be having the time of your life right now, why stay with me when I’m sick and possibly very ugly-” she dawned a goofy smile, unknowingly making Tommy’s heart race faster than it already was, “I dunno, I haven’t been able to look in a mirror quite yet.”

“You’re beautiful. You don’t need a mirror to see that.”

He let go of his tougher exterior, smiling brightly and genuinely. He grabbed Y/n’s hand and kissed it softly.

“Thomas Michael Shelby, what on Earth are you doing to me?”

Tommy looked up with slight confusion and noticed Y/n’s state, mental absence being a perfect words to describe it. She looked out of it, but still, just as beautiful out of it as she would be if she was unharmed. He was about to ask her what she meant, but she’d already turned over and slipped away into peaceful slumber again.

When she woke up again, her consciousnesses was more alert, as her body was healing while she slept, the foggy mind effect her injuries gave her was fading away with every moment she rested.

“Ah, you’re awake.”

“Tommy? Oh.” She clenched her jaw. Y/n really had missed him, but that night gave her a lot of arguments to settle with Tommy, things she needed him to answer.

“Pol told me you collapsed on the floor, already unconscious by the time she discovered you, and that she got Arthur to help you into your bed. She said you were healing, nothing major, just bruises and some blood here and there.”

“Tommy.”

“Said she didn’t know what happened.”

“Tom.”

“So what happened, Y/n? Tell me so I can be on my merry way, and blind them. That’s what you want, right? Me to like you enough to go and blind some bastard? Well you’re wrong if you think I don’t. Y/n, some things you underestimate about me, like how much I care abou-”

“Thomas!”

“...you- ...Yes?”

“He tossed me around like a fucking rag-doll.” Y/n ignored the ache of her head and held her composure. If there was ever a time to give Tommy a piece of her mind, it was now.

“I- Who?” Her eyes studied Tommy, the way he clenched his fists with anger.

“No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said no. You don’t get to be mad. You went out there, fucked Grace, and I was stuck here, alone, cold, oh and abused by Inspector Chester fucking Campbell!” She stood up, wobbling slightly due to her lack of movement in bed rest. Tommy tried to help her stand, but she pushed his hands away with a huff. “I hoped, I hoped, that you’d show up. But you never did.”

“Campbell did that to you?” He looked at Y/n’s face, flinching internally at the purple, blue, and kind of brownish hues that marked her skin.

“Fuck you Thomas Shelby.” He flinched. “Fuck you. Fuck you. Fuck you! Fuck you!” She stumbled over to him and hit his arms, punching him while breaking into tears. Tommy just stood there. He took her hits. His eyes closed in pain, not from her actions but from the situation; the pain striking him in the heart.

Finally, she broke. When she stopped punching him and began to drop to her knees, Tommy caught her. “I hate you.” She cried.

He felt the tears begin to form, spilling without his consent, “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay, I’m here-”

“I hate you, I hate you, I fucking hate you!” Though she was muttering words of her pain, she clung to Tommy tightly and refused to let go of him, as if her letting go of him now would be letting go of him forever. Her face was reddening and her nose was snotty, the tears were flooding.

“Let it all out, it’s alright, love. I’m here-”

“You weren’t the night Campbell gifted me to one of his men to use as a fucking pinata.”

He stopped. His heart ached. “I know... I’ll never forgive myself for that. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there, I’m sorry I didn’t show up, I’m sorry I-”

“Stop saying sorry. You’re not sorry. You slept with the woman you’ve been eyeing.Congratulations! Hey, want another medal? This one’s for world’s worst best friend! And another! Another for world’s best heart-breaker! Gonna throw ‘em in the cut too, huh? A man fights in a war for his home, but can’t bloody protect the girl who loves him the most? Why?? Oh, maybe because he’s too busy, I don’t know, starting another fucking war?!”

“W-what?” He muttered quietly, dropping with Y/n, who was pulling away to spew more angry words at her childhood crush. She looked him in the eyes with fury and hurt.

“You could’ve been there! You.. you could’ve been there, but you chose her... you chose her over me.. Just like you always did...with every girl... ever since we were kids...”

“Oh Y/n...” He cupped her cheeks, and this time- she did not fight. “You’ve been hiding that? For so long?”

She nodded, reaching up and wiping her eyes with her arm. “I was hoping... I was hoping you’d pick me one day. But that day never came. So I kept waiting. I watched you flirt, I watched you admire, I watched you be admired... I know, it’s silly, but no matter how many times I’ve tried to get over you, I can’t. And I know you don’t li-”

Tommy cut her off with a harsh, desperate, yet somewhat soft, kiss. “To be honest, Y/n,” He lifted her off the ground, swooped her off her feet and carried her back to her bed, setting her on the comfy mattress and tucking her in. “It’s not silly. I’ve tried the same, and yet, here I am.”

“Wait- How- But you-”

“Grace was a distraction, like the whores. Something to get my mind off of you. I suppose I just didn’t realize I was thinking of you...” He pulled away from the bed and grabbed his hat, heading for the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To make this right.” Tommy turned, a small smile gracing his face. “Do you have problem with that?”

“Yes, actually. I do.” Y/n smiled softly at Tommy as he raised his eyebrows in question, “You can make it right later. For now, I’m healing and I’ll be needing some company, preferably from my favorite of the infamous Shelby boys.”

“Finn?”

“No, dummy, you!” She giggled when Tommy rolled his eyes, his smile bigger than before, and crawled into the bed with her, draping an arm lazily around her waist and kissing her forehead. “Thank you, Tommy.”

“For you? Anything and anytime. You’re welcome, Y/n.” He closed the space between them, kissing her softly. Eventually, the pair fell asleep, unaware of Polly walking into the room a couple hours later, curious to where Tommy was and how Y/n was doing. 

She smiled at the sight; Y/n, smiling with her cheek pressed against her arm, chest heaving with each breath she took, Tommy’s head resting on it. Her hand was buried in his hair from her attempt of lulling him to sleep, and Tommy’s mouth was parted slightly, his chest moved up and down like Y/n’s.

“Really was the wrong girl, but had you been with the right one, I’d say damn near fantastic timing, Thomas.” Pol closed the door behind her. She knew this couple would happen; Polly Gray is always right.

[chironshorseass]

melted ice cream sandwiches

Thanks, @silenabeth​, for subconsciously adding your presence into this jksdhoisfjs. This one’s for you. Sorry it’s angsty, but oh well.

In which Percy and Annabeth have an argument, Connor Still chops off Annabeth's braid with a sword, and then she and Percy have a talk. It doesn't nearly go as planned, but at least they ate some ice cream sandwiches.

Rated T for language.

Read on ao3

(The Hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap)

A baby is born

Crying out for attention

The memories fade

Like looking through a fogged mirror

Decision to decisions are made

And not bought

But I thought this wouldn't hurt a lot

I guess not

“I’m your friend, of course I care!”

“You shouldn’t be my friend! That way it wouldn’t hurt so much!” Annabeth says.

It had started off as a simple comment, nothing too serious. Something about Annabeth not wanting him to help with reports—but Percy’s beginning to realize that anything can explode into an argument.

“What are you talking about?” he demands. Luckily, they’re near the woods, so at least no demigod can hear them. Not like last time.

“Just—I’m tired of you going away! You can’t have it both ways, Percy. Either you’re not my friend and forget about all this shit, or you stay here and fight him.”

“Why can’t I have it both ways? Last time I checked, I’ve spent enough time at camp to train. And why are you suddenly all gloomy and shit about being friends with me? Do you just...want me to be Luke? Make you feel better? Do you even give a shit about what he did?”

Her face reddens. “Why would any of this be about Luke?”  

“Because that’s all we fight about! You seem to have it in yourself to see him as this amazing hero when he’s the entire opposite of that!” Percy knows that what he’s saying is slightly ridiculous, and that she’s right; this has nothing to do about Luke, but he doesn’t particularly care at the moment. “Because the last prophecy was about him! You ‘lost’ the bastard to Kronos and you want him back, is that it?”

“What? Yes, I want him back—but, no, I—”

“He’s hurt you so much, Annabeth. You seriously care for him? You seriously don’t want to be my friend because you—you hate that I hate him?”

“Yes, I care for him! You didn’t know him when I did—but you mean so much—”

“He wanted to kill you!” Percy grabs her by the shoulders so they’re face to face, so she understands exactly what he’s talking about. “He doesn’t fucking care! Why can’t you see that?”

“All I see,” Annabeth seethes, shoving him off, “is a scared little boy who wants everything to be black and white.”

“You’re one to talk, telling me that I have to either stay in New York or stay at camp. I’m trying to make that work—”

“Work how, exactly? So that everyone here takes on the weight of the war while you go off and act all ‘normal’? Here’s a quick disclaimer: you’re not normal, Percy!”

“Don’t you think I know that? I’m this close to probably dying, so forgive me for wanting to cool off a bit.”

They’re nose to nose now, and Percy can feel Annabeth breathing heavily, nostrils flared.

“Shut up,” she says.

“What?”

“Just, shut up!”  

She storms away before he can say anything else. The early singing of the birds doesn't sound so sweet anymore.

He can see her wipe at her face angrily as she runs to gods know where. He knows that she won’t let him see her cry.

:

He’s in the archery class, trying not to kill anyone, when he hears commotion by the arena.

“No! I’m fine!” a familiar voice keeps insisting—Annabeth.

She stomps past a very concerned-looking Connor. Her hair is pulled into two braids, as it was earlier in the morning. She’d been experimenting with different hairstyles—it probably had something to do with Silena’s influence—but now, Percy realizes that one of her braids is missing. It had been cut off, by the looks of it.

He lowers his bow, walking over to them. Something had happened, and it hadn’t been good.

“I’m so sorry, ‘Beth,” Connor says, this time truly sounding sorry. “I didn’t know that you wouldn’t block me—if there’s any way to repay you—“

She stops her fast-walking and turns towards him. “You’ve done enough.”

“Okay but I—”

“Hey!” Percy calls out as he approaches them. “What happened?” Annabeth suddenly starts walking again.

Connor stares at him sheepishly. “I sort of, um, cut her hair.”

Percy ignores him. “Annabeth? Come on! Don’t walk away—I’m asking you something!”

“And I don’t care to answer.”

“Can I help? In any way?”

“I don’t need your help, either.”

He sprints over to her anyway, grabbing one of her shoulders. “Come on, why—”

She shoulders him off.

Percy hears the steady footsteps of someone right behind them: Connor.

“Annabeth. Please,” he pants, running ahead and facing her. He walks backwards while she walks forward, a mule with a job in mind. “I’m so sorry. But where are we going?”

“‘We?’” she mutters, not looking at either of them. “None of your fucking business, assholes. Now leave me alone!"

Annabeth shoves them out of her path and runs. Runs before either of them can catch up. She’s always been faster than both of them.

What hits him there in the middle of a summer day, staggered with only a son of Hermes as a companion, is the pain he heard in her voice. And Percy has a feeling that it’s more than just her missing braid.

No, he is the cause of that pain—he’s the one to blame. And he feels like dying a little.

:

He sits by the canoe lake, the sun reaching further west because of the time. But even with the sun not directly above him, it still feels like laser beams down his neck.

Silena meets him there. Her camp shirt is tucked into her shorts in a stylish way that very few people can achieve, hair perfectly in place and without even a slight sheen of sweat on her face

Percy doesn’t know how she does it. It’s the middle of July, after all.

She sits down, pulling her legs into her chest and leaning in, watching him.

“Everything okay?” he asks.

She sighs, though it’s barely noticeable. “I came to talk to you. About Annabeth.”

He catches her gaze, but for the first time, Percy can’t tell what she’s thinking.

“She’s fine. If that’s what’s worrying you. Well, not exactly ‘fine,’ but—like, she’s not hurt. Physically.”

“That’s reassuring.”

Silena snorts and follows his eyes towards the swaying trees on the other side of the lake. They look so peaceful there, almost as if they’re dancing. Maybe they are. Maybe they don’t care about wars or drama.

Good for them.

“No,” she muses. “I guess she’s hurting, and not just because I had to cut so much of her pretty hair. Almost made me want to cry. She didn’t say much, but I can always tell when you two had a fight.”

“If you’re here to lecture me—”

“Oh, come on. I may be close to her, but I’m not the type to meddle. I just came here to tell you that you should talk to her.”

“Then you are meddling.”

She laughs. “Okay, maybe I am. And maybe I also talked to her about it. She’s not that mad at you. Mostly sad. It would do you both good if you actually worked things out.”

“Trust me, she hates me at the moment.”

“And trust me, she doesn’t. She wants you to go to her.”

They stare at each other, both gazes challenging, until one of them loses.

Percy breathes out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.”

Girls are so weird, he thinks.

But maybe he says that part aloud, because Silena rolls her eyes. “I heard that.”

“Of course you did.”

She winks at him. “Maybe you should give her an ice cream sandwich. You know, as a truce. I heard that the Hermes cabin stashed some from their last raid.”

“Um, I thought Annabeth wanted to talk to me. Why would we need a truce?”

“Oh, she certainly does. But ice cream never hurt anyone.”

“Fine. Whatever you say.”

“That’s the spirit,” she grins.

:

Percy finds her at the beach, in the part where grass is more common than sand. It’s dry and brittle, yellowed from scarce rain—but next to her it looks like golden thread.

Her hair is cut just above her shoulders, like a bob. He’d never seen her with short hair before, but he thinks that it makes her look older, in a way. Changes from that pretty girl he’d met nearly four years ago to a beautiful young woman. At least that’s what she’s making him feel.

Gods, she’s too good for me.

Percy takes a deep breath and clears his throat. Hopefully this can end well, because just by looking at her makes him nervous.

Annabeth had probably heard him coming, since she doesn’t startle at the sound.

That could be a good sign.

“Mind if I join you?”

She says nothing, but she also doesn’t protest when Percy sits down next to her.

“Uh…” He takes out the ice cream sandwiches that were in his pocket. “Do you, like, want any?”

She nearly smiles. Nearly. And she nods hesitantly, snatching one from his hand.

Good.

He doesn’t care that she still can’t meet his eyes. Or maybe he does care. And maybe he also cares that the space between them feels like the wind holding its breath, how her skin looks so warm, but instead of feeling it, he feels the grass tickling his legs.

“Um, it—you look pretty, that way…” he says, mainly to break the silence, but now he wants to slap himself. “Not that your hair wasn’t pretty before or anything. Well, not your hair, I mean—you were pretty before. Uh, not that you’re not pretty now—”

“It’s okay, Seaweed Brain. I get it. My haircut isn’t that bad.”

He can see her smiling from the corner of his eye. He doesn’t remember the last time she called him by his old nickname, least of all smile. Hopefully he isn’t blushing as much as he thinks.

“Silena helped. Before, it looked like half of my hair had been chopped with a sword—which it had, I guess. I’m still planning my revenge.”

“For Connor?”

Annabeth turns to Percy. “Yes. Connor… ” her gaze falters. She stares longingly out at the ocean, eyes blinking rapidly.

They don’t say much for a while, but rather listen to the song of the birds and the wind and the ocean. The grass between them flutter like butterflies, slight touches against their legs.

Annabeth rips the plastic off the ice cream sandwich and takes a big bite. He slips off the package of his own sandwich as well, but stops to notice how the vanilla melts under her fingers and how it oozes from her mouth and down to her chin. His own hands are covered in the soft feeling of the chocolate cookie, sticky and gross; his sandwich is almost melted in the harsh sunlight. He doesn’t wipe his hands away or feel like eating it anymore, and she doesn’t care to clean her chin up, either.

They’re both a mess.

The vanilla ice cream softens in his mouth, and an explosion of chocolate sweetness ensues after, but not before a big portion of the sandwich falls into his shorts and slips into the dry grass between his legs.

He hates ice cream sandwiches.

Why it was a good idea to share some in Long Island, during the warm days of summer, he has no idea. But the spray of salt that kiss their cheeks alongside the cacophonous roar of the waves make the situation not that horrible. At least in Percy’s opinion. Also Annabeth not mad at him anymore is a plus. Or perhaps she is. Their fight earlier in the day wasn’t exactly pretty.

She finishes her sandwich and licks some of the chocolate off her fingers.

“I just,” she says, taking a deep breath. “I’m tired. Of the same thing. Over and over. It’s not even Connor’s fault. Hell, this time it’s not your fault, either. I’m just...stupid.”

“Hey. Don’t ever say that. You are many things, Annabeth Chase, but stupid isn’t one of them.”

She must feel his heated gaze on her, because she meets his eyes. She quickly wipes away her tears.

“Maybe I wasn’t before. But now, I kind of am. I—I get carried away by you and how you’re never here, and I don’t even think about how close we are to the end, and then I can’t even fight well anymore—so Connor fucking Stoll cuts off one of my braids.

“And then I look weird and I can’t even cut my hair properly, so Silena helps and she looks at me like I’m...like I’m some poor creature! And I’m not! I just want things the way they were with my hair the way it was and with no wars and no prophecies and no shitty feelings and no...no traitors! I don’t care about quests, or glory—I can’t even fucking do that right because you almost died and Luke is now freaking possessed—and I...I want everything back the way it was!” she sobs into her hands, smearing her face with the remaining ice cream and chocolate.

Percy doesn’t know what to do. He wants to hug her, pull her close and tell her it’ll be alright. Kiss the top of her head and reassure her that they’ll make it out alive. But he doesn’t. Or at least, he doesn’t say any of those things.

But he does scoot closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and placing her head against the crook of his neck. He lets her weep until there are no tears left, lets her wrap her own arms around his neck. That way, they can hold each other properly.

“I’m sorry,” he says after her breathing has calmed down. Her short hair feels like silk against his hands.

“What are you sorry for? You’re the one that will...who will…” She hiccuped. “Gods, you don’t even know, and, and everything is supposed to be fine anyway!”

“What do I not know? You can tell me, ‘Beth. I’m your best friend.”

She shakes her head, mouth tightly closed, but soon her face contorts into another sob, and her hand comes up to her mouth to cover it. He holds her closer to his chest, not caring about how much ice cream has been smeared in the process.

“No, no,” she cries. “I—I can’t say. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

After a few minutes, her tears run warm and her breathing relaxes once again. The waves calm to the soothing sounds of water meeting shore. He obviously had a hand in that. But everything stops to a halt, and it comes down to Percy and Annabeth, holding each other. Just like in Siren Bay, only now things aren’t so simple. They know more than they should.

“If anyone should be sorry,” she whispers against his shirt, “it’s me.”

His hand tightens against her shoulders, but he doesn’t protest. It’s no use to try and contradict her right now.

Slowly, her arms loosen their hold on him and she sits down like she was before, but now she’s significantly closer to Percy, hips touching.

Annabeth breathes deeply, staring at her hands. They’re a mess of ice cream and grass; she wipes them away with her shirt. Then, she tries to do the same with her face.

“Here, I uh…brought some napkins.”  He fishes around in his pockets until they come up, offering some to her.

She grabs a handful. “Thanks.”

He looks at her while she works, until finally he says, “None of that is your fault.”

Her hands stop moving. She closes her eyes.

“But it is.” Percy almost doesn’t hear her. Almost lets the roaring winds drown her down, under the waves. A whisper amidst the sound of thunder.

Of course, he does hear.

“Why would all of this crap be your fault?”

“Because I couldn’t convince Luke to stay at camp. I had my chance, and I didn’t take it. Because I almost let you die.”

“First of all, you could never have changed Luke. I know you hate me saying it, but he’d already made his decision. And...well, I made my decision as well.”

“Like how you’ll make your decision to go to New York? During the summer?” Her voice isn’t accusing or angry, but desperate and soft.

“No, I won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yeah I do. I won’t visit New York in a while, if...that’s what you want.”

“Of course it’s what I fucking want!”

He silently cringes at that. Wrong thing to say.

She sniffles the last of her tears and glares at him, eyes red.

“You’ll leave me anyway, sooner or later. Everyone leaves, and—and you’re no exception, Perseus Jackson. You hear me? You are not the exception!” As she says every word, she rips out the grass stems around her; they make popping sounds as the roots come off the ground. Her lips tremble and her eyes shine with fresh tears, but she doesn’t stop.

“Fuck, I don’t care if you go out to that wonderful city of yours with your pretty girlfriend to forget about your problems. That’s great—I wish I could do that. But your problems are very much real, and the people here are counting on you. Has it ever crossed your mind that they miss you? That I miss you? Why is staying here for a bit longer so bad?”

Something in Annabeth’s tone makes Percy feel like he’s stepping on a floor filled with broken glass.

“I—”

“No,” she shakes her head. “I’m sorry. It’s—you’re not the problem. I don’t want to argue anymore. I just want to...spend more time with you.” She takes a rattling breath and looks at him directly in the eye once again. Her face is a wet sheen of tears, despite wiping them off with a napkin earlier. “All I meant to say is that we don't…” her train of thought stops; she stares at her hands. “We don’t have forever. And maybe you don’t think that you’ll leave me, but you don’t know that.”

“No one has forever. Unless you’re a god.”

She laughs bitterly. “That’s my point. If we don’t have forever, then why won’t you stay here? With us? Spend what little we have together.”

“Okay.”

She glances at him, stunned. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not? We’re at a summer camp. I’m supposed to enjoy things. Not leave. I’m...sorry about that.”

“No, I,” she sighs, “I get why you’ve been leaving. But, yeah, it would be nice if you could stay.”

“That’s what I’m planning to do,” he gins, content that for the first time in a while, he’s made Annabeth happy.

“Thanks for the ice cream sandwich, by the way.” She smiles, and some could say that it’s a weak attempt to seem grateful or content, but Percy knows that it’s genuine.

“Yeah. No problem.”

:

That night, Percy lets Sally know that he won’t be coming home in a while. For now, he is home. And Annabeth is his best friend, and so is Grover. And he can count on Beckendorf and Travis and Connor. They’re part of who he is, he realizes. And camp feels like belonging and the warmth of a thousand fires and a thousand starry nights.

But the missions and war preparations begin again.

And they both end up fighting. Nothing Percy says to Annabeth is right. Being without her hurts, but staying hurts even more.

He leaves the next morning.

Maybe after the summer is over, they can confront the feelings they have. Maybe they can fix whatever is broken between them when the war ends, and if they’re ready, be more than just friends. Maybe he’ll never have the courage to tell her that. Or maybe he’ll die. Maybe Kronos will win.

As Percy trudges up Half-Blood Hill, he feels someone watching him. He turns around, and there she is, her arms crossed and golden hair loose; it still hasn’t grown enough for her to put it in a ponytail. He can’t make out the look on Annabeth’s face, but he waves at her awkwardly all the same.

She doesn’t wave back.

When he sees Peleus’ smoke coming from Thalia’s tree, he looks back again. But she’s gone.

He hates ice cream sandwiches, but he hates his life more.

[quarantined-with-bucky]

Good Stuff

Bucky x Reader

Words: ~ 3,700

Summary: You had a rocky relationship with Bucky. This fight ended badly.

Warnings: Extreme angst (a couple illusions to smut)

A/N: You guys showed a lot of love to my last angsty-song fic, so I wrote another to rip your heart out! This song is called “Good Stuff” by Griff. It’s amazing and I put my own twist on it at the end. Sorry in advance, this one killed me too.

...

The beginning was pure bliss.

Laying in bed with him, cooking with him, laughing with him. You wish that you could go back and wrap that all in a box with a pretty bow on top to save for a rainy day – you wish you could feel that feeling again.

You’d never felt so free. Those moments where the only thing you had to do was look into his blue eyes, sparkling with life, crinkles forming around the corner of his eyes as he laughed hard. It was a genuine laugh; you’d been with him long enough to know that from a polite chuckle. You’d only seen him laugh like that around you – only you. Not when it was his friends, not when it was a group of all of you; it was reserved for those moments with you, laying in bed with the sunlight bouncing off his golden skin.

Oh, I try to rewind Every scene in my mind And for you, I’ve got tunnel vision And I’ve blocked out every collision

Even the little stuff felt like the world could stop right there and you’d be satisfied. Like you could just live the rest of your life in his arms and forget about everything else in the world. Oh, you wished.

One night you two baked a cake. “Come on, “(Y/N),” he laughed, grabbing the spatula out of your hand, stirring the contents of the bowl rapidly. “There’s no way this is enough frosting.”

You swatted his arm, laughing softly. “How much frosting do you really need, it’s one small cake.” He rolled his eyes and lifted the spatula out of the bowl, licking it clean. “Save some for the cake!”

He dropped the utensil in the sink, grabbing you with both hands and hoisting you up on the counter. “It’s sweet. I like it.” He pressed a kiss to your lips; he tasted like chocolate buttercream. “Sweet like you.”

You rolled your eyes this time, laughing at his sappy remark. You stick a finger in the bowl, tasting it off your finger. “It is pretty good, not to pat myself on the back,” you hummed.

Bucky swiped his finger in the frosting a laid a fat blob on the tip of your nose. You gasped, swatting his hands away. “Aww,” he cooed, grinning widely. “You look so cute like that.”

You tilted your head to the side, returning his grin, coating your fingers in frosting that you ran down his cheek. You took him by surprise, Bucky’s mouth falling open with laughter as he suddenly grabbed your face and licked the tip of your nose.

One afternoon you two went on a walk. The first official day of spring and it wasn’t raining. You warmly welcomed it, the first day in a week that it hadn’t stormed. You pulled Bucky out of bed that Sunday morning, slipping on your shoes, and dragging him out the door. He didn’t protest at all on the way, seeing you so excited to enjoy the spring weather was better than sleeping-in. He’d choose you any day over sleeping.

You two walked hand-in-hand down the path in Central Park, sipping on the coffee you got from Starbucks on the way. You walked around in silence, maybe pointing out the blooming flowers on the side of the path or the budding trees.

He had spent most of the morning looking at you, a smile pulling at his lips as you stopped to stare at everything on the way. He told you he thought it was the first time you’d seen a flower with how excited you were. You’d blushed when he told you that, smiling, but muttering a soft “sorry.” And he grabbed your cheeks in both hands and smooshed his lips against yours.

“Don’t ever be sorry.”

One morning you woke up to him kissing a line down your chest. Your hand found the top of his head, running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly at the chestnut strands. “Good morning, baby,” you giggled, his lips now pressing the underside of your breast, continuing downwards.

He hummed into your skin, letting his tongue drag against the soft skin of your stomach, pressing a final kiss to your hip bones. “’Morning,” he murmured, taking a hand between your thighs, spreading them open with ease – as if you’d ever stop him.

He nuzzled his face between your legs, his stubble scratching at your inner thighs. You moaned at that feeling and let out a long breath as he pressed an open-mouthed kiss to your core.  

And that’s the good stuff. The stuff you’d die for. You tried to think about that stuff often: the memories for which neither of you had a care in the world. It was just the two of you in love. You spent your nights reliving those memories, only the good memories. And it made you laugh, thinking about them, because you then remember all the fights you’d have, too. At that point, they were stupid – revolving around minuscule things, to which the entire subject would be forgotten within an hour. And if you were able to relive even just one happy memory with him, you’d never fight with him again.

We were fighting fires every night when you met me And it’s not fair at all So after everything Why’d you leave me with the good stuff, babe And forget about the mess we made?

It was easy to say that now, hindsight obviously having the benefit of the doubt. You were so deeply in love. He loved you, too – you knew it, you could feel it. But with love, comes hate. With love, comes jealousy.

It happened when he flirted with the waitress. He insisted that he wasn’t flirting; and maybe he wasn’t technically flirting, but the lighthearted comments and witty banter felt different. You didn’t know particularly why it made your blood boil at the time, but it just did. You’d glared at him for the rest of dinner, arms crossed over your chest, leaning back against your chair. He glared right back, obviously aware you were pissed, but rolling his eyes when you told him why.

“I wasn’t flirting with her,” he almost laughed. He couldn’t believe that was the reason you were mad.

Not having a valid argument, you stayed silent, biting the inside of your cheek, mumbling a “whatever.” Maybe it was that fact that he was joking with her so easily. Not only did it take him years to get out of his shell, it took him so damn long to open up to you. The awkward phase lasted almost two months. The two of you barely flirted in the beginning of your relationship. It took work to get him to return to the charismatic, charming boy he was before the war. It was work that you put in. And now he’s going to throw it back in your face by showing it off to some girl.

It happened when someone looked at you too long. It was at the bar; you’d gone along on a double date with Sam and the girl he was seeing. The four of you had lovely banter, and everyone thought the night had gone well until the man at the bar stood three feet away from you. You’d barely paid him any attention, instead joking around with Sam and his girlfriend.

Bucky wasn’t paying attention to the group anymore, instead glaring at the man beside you, staring you up and down. You turned to Bucky to see him staring at the man. And as soon as you turned your head towards the stranger, he met your eyes and flashed a smile at him. You pressed your lips into a tight line, sending him the good ol’ fashioned white person smile (look it up). You felt Bucky’s arm snake around your waist, dropping his hand to rest directly on your ass.

It was nights like those that ended up in arguments on the drive home. The logic didn’t make much sense, it was more of just a yelling match: who could scream the loudest. It was you and him picking pointless arguments about nothing, hollering things at each other that you’d regret in the morning.

Those fights ended up with the slam of the front door, Bucky following you up to your shared bedroom, jutting a hand in the door frame before you could lock him out. He strutted towards you murderously, such that you were backed up against the wall. His hand snaked up to your jaw, firmly tilting it such that you had no choice but to look up at him. “You don’t hate me,” he practically growled after you spat those words to him. You didn’t have anything to say to that. Instead, you dropped your eyes from his straight ahead of you, meeting eye level at his chest. You huffed air through your nose, slightly tilting your jaw, testing his grip. There was no way you could move any muscle in your body. “I’ll show you,” he grunted, pinning your hips to the wall with his.

He lurched your jaw up forward, your neck viciously stretching, not having any more height in you. He met your mouth with a hot, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth. Your hands flew up to his chest, gripping fistfuls of his shirt and pulling his chest somehow closer to yours. His hands raked down your back, grabbing your ass harshly, before hoisting you up off the ground. Before you could even wrap your legs around his waist, he threw you down onto the bed, which felt like it was three stories below you.

You both were quick to undress yourselves as he crawled on top of you, holding your neck firmly as he met your lips for another messy kiss.

Every morning after a round of heated hate-sex, all the emotions from the night before had faded away. The two of you woke up with sorrow filled eyes, purple and red marks littering necks, chest, and thighs. He would reach his hand up to stroke your tangled hair, thumb brushing over your cheekbone as you frowned. “I love you,” you clarified, wishing you could take back your words from last night. As much as you regretted telling him you hated him mid-argument, nothing stopped you. Every single time, nothing stopped you.

“I know, baby, forget about it.”

When we lost one another That’s when I rediscovered My memories in the clouds But no feet on the ground Cause I know I should forget you Why can’t I just regret you? Oh,  wish that my mouth didn’t smile when I think of you

“(Y/N),” your sister coos warmly, sitting on the edge of your half empty bed. “You need to get up.”

You didn’t have anything to say. There was nothing to say. In fact, you’d said too much. If you never told her that Bucky was gone, you wouldn’t have to be sitting here, listening to her drone on about this for the millionth weekend in a row. “I’m not going,” you mumble, voice muffled by the pillow your head was currently stuffed in.

She sighed, standing and slapping her legs against her thighs, startling you. “You need to get out of bed and meet this guy. I already told him I’d bring you for lunch.”

You scoffed. “Well maybe you can just tell him I died or something,” you sigh, rolling on your back and letting your arms and legs starfish onto the bed.

“Don’t say that.” Not like you cared, you hoped that you actually had jinxed yourself. Maybe death would be better than lying in your once shared bed alone. It’s been a year since the last time you saw Bucky – over a year: one year, one month, and sixteen days. You still don’t know what happened. One year, one month, and sixteen days later, and you were still wondering.

That’s probably the worst part. Just because you never got any closure. All in all, you didn’t think you wanted closure. If you’d gotten closure, you’d be over him. You wouldn’t be reliving all the good stuff like you still do every day. Hell, even the bad stuff became good stuff. As much as the jealously sex hurt (hurt emotionally, in a bad way; hurt physically, in a good way), you still couldn’t help but miss it and bite your lip every time you thought about it.

“He’s never coming back to you,” she whispered, probably not intending for it to pierce your heart with the pain of a thousand knives the way that it did. But she was your sister, that’s what she was here for. “You need to move on.”

You still didn’t move. There was no moving on to do. Nobody could make you feel such a rush of emotions as he did. You hated it, the rollercoaster: love to hate to love. You wished that it was all love. But that’s not the way life works.

Maybe it would’ve been easier if you’d never met at all. He made it clear that he would be hard to love. How could he say that, and then love you with such vigor? Its like he said it just to hurt you. But he’d never hurt you – until now. Until he vanished from your life forever; it was an Avengers thing. You could almost roll your eyes thinking about it.

Your mother came over later that week to hit you with the tough love. “What are you going to do, (Y/N), seriously?” You simply ignored her question and continued mixing the sauce you were making for dinner later. “You’re just going to be alone forever?”

You dropped the spoon and turned around to face her, holding your arms out in defeat. “What do you want me to do, mom? Go out and marry some fucking loser just so I’m not alone?” She stared at you with a scowl. “Every day wish that I loved him?”

“You’re so dramatic,” she scoffed. “You don’t know whose out there if you don’t try.”

“Mom, I don’t want to try! Do you understand that?” You were screaming, hopelessly yelling, pleading for her to grasp this concept. As soon as you realized you were yelling, you shut up. God, is this how you sounded when you yelled at Bucky? At least he yelled at you back – your mom just sat there judging you. “Listen,” you huffed, your voice now fifty decibels lower. “I just can’t.”

Oh, I wish that my mouth didn’t smile when I think of you But you left me with the good stuff, babe And I know that it’s a crying shame It’s a million times harder when I don’t hate you When I don’t hate you

“Would you just shut the fuck up!” You yelled at him, shutting the front door behind you. “I wasn’t even looking at the guy.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, before getting heated again. “You were basically eye-fucking him across the room.”

And that’s how it started that fateful night one year, one month, and sixteen days ago. You and Bucky went out for date night, a new restaurant/club uptown. It was swanky, you thought you’d enjoy a fun dinner; maybe drink a little bit, let loose. You’d always loved it when Bucky would put his hands on you in the club; his metal hand would travel up and down your side, while his flesh hand traced along your hip bones and grab your ass. Bucky never had fun like that. He grew up in a time that dancing meant face to face, bodies six inches apart. He wouldn’t dare to drop his hand to a girls backside, let alone grab her ass in the middle of the dancefloor.

Maybe it was the new Bucky – the twenty-first century Bucky, that was a bit of an exhibitionist and voyeur. The two of you didn’t go out a lot, but you knew that this was something he enjoyed every once and a while, and you were more than happy to let him run his hands all over you. He loved that scene, but as soon as anyone else so much as glanced at you, he lost it.

You let out an exaggeratedly loud groan. “Shut up! I barely even looked at him!” You were met with an eyeroll from him. “Even if he was looking at me all night, I can’t help it! What did you want me to do about it? Be like you and beat the shit out of him in the middle of the club?”

That’s what got the two of you kicked out of the club. He dropped his hands off of you, clenching his fists at his sides, and sauntered over to the man. Before the man could say anything – or hold his hands up in defense, even – Bucky nearly broke his jaw. One swift fist to the face and the man was on the floor. You ran over, yanking Bucky’s arm before he could go in for another punch. When the bouncer stepped over, you had no choice but to quietly apologize and leave, dragging a fuming Bucky behind you.

“You say that as if you didn’t enjoy the show.” You swallowed hard and bit your lip. You couldn’t technically lie to him – he knew you’d thought it was hot. Obviously, you could admit you did find it a bit arousing. And you knew Bucky could smell it on you.

“You didn’t have to break his fucking face; you’re the one who wanted to go to the club in the first place.”

“Sure, (Y/N). I don’t even know why you’re defending him, anyway. He was staring at you with his fucking disgusting eyes. If I knew you liked being watched so much, I would’ve suggested we go to the strip club so you could hop on stage.” His deep voice echoed throughout the living room.

“Shut the fuck up, James. I hate you.” With that, you crossed your arms over your chest and stomped your way to the bedroom. You slammed the door, and not a second later, you heard the front door slam the floor below you. That sounds about right. This had been a recent development. Sometimes when you fought, you’d have angry, jealous sex afterwards – it was passionate, painful, and a burning reminder that the two of you belonged together. Other times, when you two said particularly vile things to each other, he left. He stepped out to clear his head. He’d come back in the early hours of the morning (after spending a sleepless few hours in his bed at the Avengers Complex) and spend the rest of the morning having make-up sex, filled with breathy I’m sorry’s and I love you’s; bodies molded together, sharing space, time, and air.

You sat awake in bed, more pissed off than anything else. It wasn’t the worst he’s ever said, to be honest. You knew he was buzzed and pissed off. You’d said worse than that to him, too. But it was routine: fighting, yelling; making up and making love. It was simply what you did.

Not thinking too much more about it, you laid in bed, completely exhausted after the evening you’d just had. This is exactly what happened every time. You shut your eyes for the night.

Bucky didn’t come home the next morning. You woke up to the sun shining in your eyes and the other side of the bed empty. He didn’t come home that afternoon, nor that night. Not the following day, or the day after.

I hate you.

The last thing you said to him.

But I don’t hate you.

And in another life, yeah Do me a favor and try To leave me broken and bitter So moving on’s a little quicker

You shivered from the cool breeze; it was getting late. The sky was darkening, the sun shining on your skin now gone, replaced with cold goosebumps. You picked at the grass blades in front of you, as you sat cross-legged on the frigid, hard ground in silence. It was the first official day of spring, and man, it was unseasonably brisk. You would have to get going soon, they closed at dusk.

You made a pile of pulled up grass in front of you. It had now been officially two years since you last saw Bucky. Since you’d thrown around those nasty words like they were nothing; as if they’d held no weight in the world – that couldn’t be farther from the truth.

You regretted that night everyday for the last seven hundred and thirty days. You felt bad – so bad. It weighed on your heart every second of the day. So much so that you’d grown to hate yourself recently. That’s the only person you should’ve ever hated anyway (or at least said it out loud). You never actually hated him, and you know that he knew that. There was no way he couldn’t know you were just saying it. Saying it with no meaning behind the words.

But you couldn’t change it. You kept thinking about the pain it must have caused him after he left. Maybe you should’ve reached out. It was always you waiting for him to come home. But then again, it was he who decided to leave in the first place.

Since that night, you stayed quiet. You didn’t want to meet anyone new, didn’t want to give your heart to anyone else. Talking to others felt like a chore. It just didn’t have any worth anymore. There was no point in finding someone else because he wouldn’t – couldn’t – be Bucky. After all, there was no one who could rile you up like he did.

You picked up the pile of loose grass and threw it up in the air, watching as the breeze took it away. Just like Bucky – taken away. Right from the tips of your fingers.

You sighed, standing up and wiping the dirt off the back of your jeans. “Hey, Buck,” you whispered, patting the top of his gravestone. “If you can’t love me for forever in our next life, don’t bother. I can’t go through this twice.”

[wreckofawriter]

Three Fatal Words

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Word Count: 1,580

Warnings: Angsty? Lots of anger, swearing

Summary: Arguments have always been a problem for Sirius especially when he is so close to spilling 3 fatal words

A/n: Hi! So I havent posted in a while and I'm so sorry, I've sorta hit a writer's block and I'm finding it hard to get motivated to write. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy this one!

Anger was not an uncommon emotion to Sirius Black. Sirius had spent most of his life in a rage towards those around him. He used it as a weaponized tool to attack those who tried to break the thick walls that he hid behind. He used it as a defense against those who wanted to see more than he was comfortable with. But when he found himself in a committed relationship suddenly emotions seemed spill out of him far too openly. He found himself feeling things he had never felt before. 

Love overwhelmed him like a tilde wave crashing onto him with such force it knocked him to the ground, but that love was paired with a level of insecurity he didn't anticipate. Suddenly he was never sure if he was enough, never quite sure if he was doing the right things. What if you decided that you didn't want him anymore? His happiness was paired with a fear he hadn't felt in so long. The fear that you would walk away taking all of that joy with you. His pride when he held you by his side was dampened by jealousy formed by wandering eyes and suggestive words.

But he hid all of these emotions with one overpowering feeling. Anger. 

Fights were uncommon at the beginning of your relationship. But as weeks grew to months Sirius suddenly found himself beginning to suffocate the love he felt towards you. The two of you still hadn't said you loved each other and Sirius was beginning to think you didn't love him back. He figured that karma had found its way around and now the one person he actually wanted to love him never would. 

So he swallowed his fear along with his feelings and instead of building bridges to his heart he built walls. Walls of anger. And he hid behind them as if when they broke he would simply roll over and die. And he believed that is what would happen. 

Fights broke out more and more as he became closer and closer to spilling three fatal words. Each day he seemed to blow up just a little easier until you couldn't take it anymore. 

"What the fuck is your problem?" You growled after he yelled at you for asking when James next quidditch match was. 

"I don't have a problem." He huffed back unamused by your clear anger. 

"Obviously you do if I can't ask a simple question with out you blowing up in my face!" You pointed out. 

"Oh yeah 'one simple question'." He scoffed making quotations around his words with his hands. 

"What the hell is that supposed to mean? I was just asking about James next match." You glared.

"You are always 'just asking' about James." Once again his hands swerved as visuals while he spit his best friend's name like poison.

"You're kidding right?" You chuckled haughtily. 

"Why would I be kidding?" He deadpanned clearly oblivious to any issues his question raised. 

"How can you be so fucking blind!" You yelled, "Obviously I have a problem if you think I wanna fuck Potter!" 

"I'm the blind one?!" He hollered back advancing on you causing you to stand from his bed where you had been sitting. 

"Yes! Clearly you are!" You fought eyes darkening. 

"How am I the blind one when you flirt with every guy you see and claim your just, 'talking'!" 

"Stop with the bloody air quote because we are 'JUST TALKING'!" You voice echoed around the room as you mimicked his actions. 

"Oh! But you get to be mad when I talk to Marlene!

"Uh yeah I do! Because you've fucked that girl more times than I care to count!" 

"Try counting to five!" He hollered back. 

"So you're allowed to talk to a girl you've fucked FIVE TIMES and clearly still has feelings for you considering she makes it her mission to bore holes in my back with her eyes and I'm not allowed to ask about your best friend who is madly in love with another girl!" 

"That's not what I said!" He argued. 

"That's exactly what you said." You spat. 

The room fell silent. Tension so thick you struggled to breathe and your eyes began to water. 

Sirius glanced at the shine that now accommodates your deep y/e/c orbs and even in his fury he felt those three fatal words rise in his throat clawing desperately towards his tongue. 

"If I cant trust you and you can't trust me. I should probably just leave." You spoke, voice so quiet, he was hardly sure you said it. 

"Fine if you want to leave, leave." He shrugged as if it didn't matter. 

You bit your lip, tears stinging like bees, "Fine." Your voice cracked quietly and suddenly Sirius realized what you meant. 

You weren't leaving the room. You were leaving him. And with this realization he felt like puking. 

"Wait!" He yelled as you turned your back towards him. 

You turned around slowly, two symmetrical glimmering streaks shone on your cheeks in the warm light making his heart clench and those words once again leap from his throat. 

"Are you seriously going to leave me because I got mad once?" He glowered.

Your face had dropped all emotions, "It's not just once Sirius. You're always mad. Always." 

This only made his anger rise, "Are you fucking with me?! You're just going to leave? And do what?! Fuck my best freind?!" Sirius had advanced on you, his voice filled with heartbreak as if he were choking out the hateful words. 

"What I do doesn't concern you." You hissed angrily.

"Are you FUCKING WITH ME!?" And to the boys surprise you flinched away from him. Your eyes closing your head turning away from him as you scrunched your face in anticipation. 

Sirius was confused at first but then suddenly he realized. He had raised his hand. He had never thought of hitting you. He would never hit you. He would sooner jump from the astronomy tower. But he had raised his hand in frustration and you had flinched away from him.

You had now turned back towards the stunned boy. Your y/e/c irises now seemed almost black with anger. You glanced at his hand before locking your eyes to his startled grey ones. 

"Go on." You egged, "Hit me. I fucking dare you."

Sirius suddenly felt the dams he built crumble to the ground. Tears began to flood his vision causing the world to blur. He choked out a broken sob, his heart shattering.  

Your eyes softened, unknown guilt filling your stomach as the boy in front of you collapsed. It was as if someone had pressed a button and he just broke. 

He fell to his knees with an unpleasant thump, his hands plastering to his face as he shook violently with sobs that made your heart rench. 

You stood stunned above him unsure of what to do.

"Siri?" You asked softly all previous anger disappearing as the boy your loved wept beneath you. You crouched down to his level placing a delicate hand on his shoulder as your face contorted with concern. "Siri?" You repeated. The second you spoke again Sirius lurched forward grasping you in a desperate hug. He pulled your face into his chest placing his forehead on the top of your y/h/c one. You returned the gesture wrapping your hands around his waist and snuggling closer into him, enjoying the musky scent he emitted. 

The two of you just sat there for a while, crouched on the wooden floor embracing each other as if letting go meant the cruel scythe of death would take you. 

Finally Sirius gathered himself and slowly pulled away, reddened grey eyes meeting your own. 

"I would never hit you." His voice was scratchy and raw as if he had just spent an hour screaming. "Never." He repeated, his nose was red, eyes still glistened with moisture. 

"I'm so sorry Siri." You spoke, guilt weigh down your form. 

"No." He said sternly. "You have nothing to apologize for." 

You opened your mouth to protest but was cut off by his lips. It's not like Sirius and you had never kissed before. You had kissed more times than you could count but it was always rough, lips slamming against eachother, teeth clashing. So when his lips met yours so lightly you almost didn't feel it your heart soared. 

His feathery touch was met with more pressure by you, the kiss still soft and sweet, as your lips moved slowly against each other, your tongue slowly passing his chapped lips. 

When you pulled away you had to stifle a small moan of frustration from being separated. 

Sirius looked into your eyes as if he was peering into your soul, "Y/n." He whispered his warm minty breath fanning your face. "I love you." When the three fatal words slipped passed his lips he had expected to regret it immediately but instead he felt an invisible weight lift from his shoulders and he resisted the urge to sigh with relief. 

Your eyes widened at his abrupt confession and a smile broke your sad complexion. 

"I love you too Siri." You murmured softly.

Sirius felt his heart leap and he bent down, needing to feel your touch again. And all of that insecurity and fear and jealousy washed away like a wave. Because you loved him. And something told him, you always would. 

Taglist: @k3nz-doodl3 @songforhema @roslea @accio-rogers

[harry-hollands]

selcouth // harry holland // 3

chapter 3: before and after the shadows

story summary: Harry was used to living in his brothers’ shadows. Tom was the actor and Sam was the cook and musician. He was used to being second best and genuinely gave up on finding someone who could love him for him. Someone who could believe that Harry wasn’t second best. His mindset changes however, when he meets you. The sunshine to cast away all of his shadows.

chapter summary: an insight into why harry has shadows, and why they seem to consume him at a certain time of the year.

pairing(s): harry holland x reader, past!harry holland x toxic!oc, implied tuwaine barret x broadway!oc, and implied paddy holland x oc

warnings: angsty harry, depressed harry, fluffy, and angsty

word count: 2.2k

A few months into meeting Y/N, Harry had found himself waiting for her after her rehearsals frequently. Sophia and Sicily teased the both of them incessantly, but expressed their happiness for the two of them, despite the common “We’re just friends!” response.

Sam and Paddy were probably the happiest for their friends. Harry’s twin and youngest brother had never seen the curly photographer so content like he was with Y/N. Wherever one was, the other was not far behind. 

Harrison liked Y/N but was still wary of the girl. Of course, if she was friends with his girlfriend, he could only imagine that Y/N was probably a genuine person. However, because of not only his status but his best mate’s, there was still some hesitancy about her. It was understandable, but Sora and Haz had gotten into a small argument about it, Sora feeling that he inadvertently doubted her judgment.

The three that were the most apprehensive about Harry spending a lot of time with Y/N was Tom, Nadia, and Tuwaine. Nadia liked her but feared that she was just using Harry to get clout, while Tom and Tuwaine knew that it had happened before in his last relationship.

When Harry had announced to his family and friends that he was in a relationship, everyone was ecstatic for the younger twin. The woman at the time was not very well known but had been friends with his family for some time. Their relationship had lasted a little over a year, but ended messily, with Harry calling it quits after some information had come to light. 

It was discovered that the woman Harry had been seeing had only been using the poor photographer for fame. Tom, who was single at the time, had been extremely confused when the woman had attempted to make moves on him while they were all out at the bar for the night. 

Tom had dismissed that night as an accidental drunken mistake, but immediately took that thought back as the next morning, Harry’s girlfriend had winked at him while grabbing a cup of tea. The poor actor felt the need to inform his little brother of what had happened, and when he ended up telling him minutes later, Tom was shocked to find that Harry didn’t seem fazed. 

All Harry did was nod sadly and shrug, actions that alarmed the older Brit. When Tom asked what he had meant by the smile and shrug, Harry burst into tears, something he rarely ever did. Tuwaine, who had entered to ask what the two wanted to eat for breakfast, was taken aback by his roommate’s actions.

In all the years that he had known the Hollands, not once had he ever seen Harry genuinely cry. Tuwaine, being the sweet guy that he is, walked over to where Harry was standing by the closet and gave him a tight hug. 

After tight hugs from his brother and best friend, Harry explained to the two that this wasn’t the first time She Who Shall Not Be Named flirted with others. At the very beginning of their relationship, she had made unwanted advances towards Sam but had dismissed it as a joke. Harry admitted again that Harrison had told him that she even tried making advances towards him, knowing full well that he was talking to Sora. 

Sora and Harry’s ex didn’t get along. Sora had thought that She Who Shall Not Be Named was a bitch, and only cared for money and a public image. Harry’s ex thought that Sora was too blunt, a know-it-all, and a dumb foreigner, which is the only remote way to describe the words she had called the American.

Two days after Tom’s confession, Harry had finally worked up the courage to break up with the woman. Long story short, there was a lot of screaming from She Who Shall Not Be Named after Harry had broken the news, and had kindly asked her to leave.

Harry was a mess, but for the first time since he had entered the relationship, he felt free. However, it had practically taken an army to ensure that Harry was genuinely ok. The first few months had been rough, mostly since all he wanted to do was drink beer, eat tub after tub of mint-chocolate-chip ice cream, and blast Little Mix’s song Shout Out to My Ex.

While Harry had healed and grew as a person, Tom and Tuwaine still lingered on the situation. They were the only ones to know that Harry had cried, and both knew that they never wanted to see that sight again. If it were Tom or Tuwaine’s way, the two wouldn’t let Harry date until he was at least fifty-years-old, but also, Harry was his own person, and he was an adult who was capable of making decisions.

Y/N had a clue of what had happened from Sora, but the latter declined to go into detail as one, it wasn’t her information to tell, and two, Sora would get so upset at the whole situation that a coherent sentence could not be formed. 

One particularly bitter February day, before the twins’ birthday, Harry finally worked up the courage to tell Y/N the full details. In the past few weeks, Harry had been distant, which caused a small rift to form between the twitterpated pair. 

Harry realized that he was often unhappy and the only way he knew to cure the shadows surrounding the poor man, was his fix of sunshine. Y/N had grown concerned when Harry didn’t show up after her rehearsals four consecutive days in a row. 

Y/N had asked Sora who was more often than not staying with Harrison, what was going on with Harry, but even she didn’t know what was going on, and she lived with him! Y/N had even worked up the courage to ask Sam, Harrison, and even Tom if Harry was ok, but all three declined to answer.

As soon as Y/N saw Harry waiting outside, there was no hesitation in the massive hug she pulled him into. Sophia was squealing internally watching the whole scene unfold, while Sicily scoffed, partly because she was done with being single, but also because she had seen the poor girl worry over the boy who she, personally, did not think was worthy of being fretted over.

Harry, who was caught by surprise about Y/N’s actions, hesitantly hugged her back. He had honestly been acting like a dick halfway through January, until now, the beginning of February, and here his sunshine was, hugging him like nothing ever happened.

“How have you been, ghost?” Y/N teased with a warm smile.

Harry, again taken aback by her actions, immediately pulled the girl into another hug. “I am so fucking sorry for ghosting you Sunshine. I have a reason why I’ve been acting so distant, but I completely understand if you think it’s just a fucking excuse and that I’m just another fucking div playing with your heart, but I promise you that I’m just a div, and I’m not playing with you.”

Y/N chuckled and gently pulled away from Harry’s chest, but still kept her hands on his waist in a comforting way. Her warm smile was instantly replaced with a frown when she noticed the stream of tears running down Harry’s face.

“Hey, love, what’s going on? What’re you crying for? You’ve done nothing wrong?”

“But I have! I’ve been completely ghosting you for like three weeks, and I’ve barely been visiting you after rehearsals, and when I do-”

“Hey. You’re going through something right now. It’s up to you when you feel comfortable letting me know what’s going on.”

“But I-”

“Harry, I promise you, everything is ok. I’m not mad at you. Never was. I was just extremely worried about you. Although, according to my stage manager, I’ve been portraying Eliza a lot better the past few weeks. So maybe you should worry me more. I’m kidding, don’t actually do that to me again, Sophia, Aiyana, and Sicily were exhausted over my constant worrying.”

Harry laughed and pulled her into another hug. “Ya think we can go be by ourselves for a while? You deserve an explanation on why I’ve been a dick.”

Y/N smiled and nodded, taking Harry’s hand and letting him lead the way to his parked car. Harry helped the girl put her belongings inside the boot, before helping her into the passenger side of the car, and then hopping into the driver’s side.

Sophia smirked at Sicily, holding out her hand expectantly, with Sicily groaning as she pulled out a wadded twenty-pound bill. “Fuck you, Soph.” Sicily groaned again.

Harry found parking in a car garage and the pair made their way through groups of tourists, before arriving at a view of the lit-up London Eye. The two of them stared out in silence before Harry launched into his explanation.

Throughout his story, Y/N’s face progressively morphed into disgust, as she listened to the full story of She Who Shall Not Be Named. Even though the woman was no longer in Harry’s life, Y/N felt a subconscious need to beat her up.

How could someone be so cruel that you use someone for fame? Y/N couldn’t understand, and all she could do was pull Harry into a hug after tears began pricking the corners of his eyes. 

“Thank you for trusting me enough for telling me why you’ve been so distant.”

Harry without any hesitance, hugged the younger woman back, pressing a kiss to the top of her head, and closed his eyes. “Thank you for not immediately getting angry at me for being a dick.”

Y/N giggled and pulled away. “C’mon, we better head back. I don’t need Tom and Sora calling the police on us because we’ve been missing for two hours.”

Harry chuckled before pressing another kiss to her head and pulling her with him back to the car.

As soon as the pair had arrived at the Holland-Osterfield-Barret-Parkes-and now probably Tanaka residence, Sora, and Y/N’s other best friend, Aiyana, immediately pulled the Broadway actress into a bone mushing hug. 

“Where the fucking hell have you been?” Sora practically shrieked in Y/N’s ear.

“Sora is just overreacting, but seriously I was getting worried about you, lolo.” 

Y/N chuckled before glancing at Harry who was getting hit upside the head by all of the boys. “We talked. We’re ok now.”

Sora and Aiyana shared a knowing look before pulling Y/N, and Harry inside the house to warm up. They were glad that the two had made up because even if Tom and Tuwaine didn’t want to admit it, everyone residing in the house knew that they had missed how much brighter their lives were around the girl.

About a week later, which was Valentine’s Day week, everyone was in a bustle to get everything together. Tuwaine was bringing up his courage to ask out Sicily, who finally, wasn’t introduced by Paddy, but by Sora, Paddy was shooting his shot with Aiyana who everyone knew shared the same feelings, and the two were lowkey hooking up. (They were not slick at all. Even Y/N and Harry were slicker about their secret feelings for one another...and that’s saying a ton.) 

Tom, Harrison, and Elysia were both coordinating with Y/N to get tickets to her opening night, which coincidentally was Valentine’s Day (Secretly, Y/N had already gotten tickets for everyone to attend), Sam was working with Y/N on a rendition of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” for Elysia, Nadia was buying any Spider-Man related thing she could find at a reasonable price, while Sora was secretly stashing her favorite Hawaiian snacks, and items sent to her by her family back home in her shared apartment with Y/N and Aiyana.

Harry didn’t have anything extravagant planned. All he was going to do was attend Hamilton, give her a bouquet of sunflowers, and a sun necklace, earring, bracelet, and ring set he got for a good deal off of Pandora. 

Y/N had taken a different route. She knew that the two weren’t ready to date, seeming as they had only met months before, and the two had both agreed that with their next relationships they had to at least have known each other a year. However, that didn’t mean Y/N wasn’t going to do something special for her beloved curly-haired photographer.

At the end of the show, Y/N was planning on singing one of his favorite songs, and afterward, hand him half of a Yin-Yang necklace she was planning on sharing with him and polaroids of the two of them.

On one of her days-off from rehearsals, Y/N, accompanied by Sora, ventured to downtown London. The Broadway actress was looking through shops, searching and scanning for the best quality Yin-Yang necklace she could find, while Sora was doing some window shopping. Y/N was also looking to find a rustic-looking photo album/scrapbook to place her polaroids in. As the best friends entered a quaint little shop selling some photo albums matching the aesthetic Y/N was going for, Sora’s eyes widened as she caught sight of the one person she never wanted to see again, and the person she never wanted Y/N to meet, standing at the register waiting for everything of hers to be wrung up; She Who Must Not Be Named, or Eira Williams, Harry’s ex-girlfriend.

~~~~~~~~

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[stevesnailbat]

can you please do a steve harrington x reader w prompts number 1 and 2

“you’re never going to let that go, are you?” + “it’s really not that complicated.” + “close the door.”

summary: Steve accidentally called his girlfriend his ex’s name, and she can’t get past it without reassurance.

warnings: angsty!! a little fluff

word count: 1.7K

a/n: I combined this request with another one since I thought they went together nicely! Another angsty story coming soon and I’m also working on those smut prompt list requests as well. Enjoy!

“Oh come on, Y/N! I said I don’t want to go, why do you keep asking?” Steve exclaimed to his girlfriend, who had been begging him to go to a party with her for at least an hour.

“Why won’t you just go for a little bit! Please just give me a reason!” she pleaded, tangling their fingers together as she perched herself on his lap, both of them sitting on his bed.

Steve was quiet, trying to think of the real reason he didn’t want to go. He chewed his lip as he grazed his thumb across the back of her hand. She grabbed his cheek to pull his gaze to lock with hers. It was then that he got even more confused. She looked hurt, more hurt than someone who had just been told no about going to a party usually would.

“What?” he asked, his voice filled with concern as he mirrored her, cupping her cheek.

“Give me a reason, Steve.” she said, her voice more serious than it was a minute before.

“I don’t know, babe. I just don’t care for parties anymore.” he sighed, leaning his head against the headboard behind him.

That was the truth, he really didn’t like going out and getting drunk anymore. But, it wasn’t because he was burnt out from drinking. He knew exactly why he didn’t want to, but he never wanted to say it.

“You’re afraid, aren’t you?” she implored, her voice wavering as she spoke.

“I don’t know what you mean, Y/N.” he said as he closed his eyes.

He knew exactly what she meant, though. They both knew why he didn’t want to go out, but she wanted to actually talk about it for once.

“You’re scared you’re gonna call me...her name again. Because you’re still not over her.” she stated before crawling off of his lap and over to the opposite side of the bed.

“You’re never going to let that go, are you?” Steve sighed out, not meaning to come off as spiteful although he did.

“Let go of what, Steve? That you called me by your ex’s name or the fact that you’re still not over her? Which would even be better, really?” she snapped, blinking quickly to hide tears forming in her eyes. “Because, no. I’m not going to let either of them go until you prove me wrong.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” he said, his voice nearly a growl as he spoke. “Have I not proven to you that I’m over her by being here, with you? By being your boyfriend who’s always there for you? I guess that just means nothing to you!”

The spiteful tone in Steve’s voice felt like a knife stabbing into Y/N’s heart and every word he spoke twisted it, making the wound worse. She didn’t even realize she was crying when he stopped speaking, but he did. He knew that he shouldn’t have been so harsh, but it was too late once he realized it. Before he could reach over to pull her into a hug, she had gotten off the bed and was reaching for her purse on the floor.

“You really just don’t get it, Steve.” she choked out, narrowing her eyes as she reached for the doorknob. “Maybe you can figure it out for yourself. Don’t talk to me unless you’re done being an asshole.”

She left the room with a slam of his bedroom door, silence filling the air when she did. Steve was left to his own thoughts, his mind roaming as he wondered what she really meant. But, all he could focus on was how hurt she seemed. She couldn’t even bring herself to say Nancy’s name, because she was afraid of his feelings for the girl who broke his heart. That drunken night he called her Nancy was a mistake, and he didn’t know how to explain it at all. Steve really had gotten over her, but he wasn’t very good at expressing how he felt.

All she wanted was to be loved, but she knew Steve didn’t understand. She wanted him to tell her that he loved her for once, she really needing assured that he actually did. The rest of her day consisted of her moping around in her room, her thoughts consumed by the thought of the boy she loved so much crawling back to the girl who broke his heart.

She replayed that drunken conversation in her mind all night, filling the time where she would be at the party. The feeling of Steve touching her so lovingly, kissing her so gently and holding her so tightly from that night ghosted her skin as she laid in her bed, staring at the ceiling. The look in his eyes that night at whatever party it was, was filled with adoration and love. All good thoughts about that night were quickly interrupted by the jarring words that repeated in her head over and over again until she fell into an exhausted sleep.

“You’re the best girlfriend I could ever ask for. I love you, Nance.”

Y/N woke up to sunlight streaming into her room and to the sound of her bedroom door opening followed by the shuffling of her 6 year old sister’s feet towards the bed. Her head was pounding and her cheeks were tight with dried tears from falling asleep while crying. Casey, her little sister, peeled back the blanket from her bed to fully see her scrunched up, annoyed expression.

“Casey, I’m not taking you to the playground until later.” she groaned, pulling the blanket over her head once more as she screwed her eyes shut.

“Steve’s here. He wanted to see if you were awake.” Casey said, tugging the blanket back again.

“Tell him I don’t want to talk to him.” she said quietly as her sister stared at her blankly.

She knew Casey wouldn’t ask why, and that she would do it either way. She was a little kid, she didn’t care about feelings like older people did. Casey nodded and walked towards the door once more, humming as she did.

“Close the door, please.” she mumbled to the girl, still not moving from her spot cuddled underneath the blanket.

After hearing the door quietly shut, she let out a loud sigh as she rolled over in bed. She stared at the window across the room as tears welled up in her eyes once more at the thought of Steve even trying to talk to her. She thought he wouldn’t get what she meant, that he’d just ramble on with some sad apology that didn’t mean as much to him as it did to her. The argument wasn’t what mattered to her, it was the fact that he completely skipped around the fact that he might love her, not Nancy.

She stayed in her room for most of the day. The house was empty besides her, since her mom and dad took Casey to a sleepover then went out for a date night. Only a small lamp on her desk illuminated her bedroom as she tried to distract herself from her heartache with some biology homework. She was sitting with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, reading her textbook when she heard a knock on her window.

Steve was really persistent, that was for damn sure. He scaled the side of her house just to knock on her window, barely holding on when she looked out. She knew he wouldn’t leave until she talked to him, so she opened the window with a roll of her eyes. Not a single word came from her lips or a single gaze in his direction came from her eyes as he climbed in, she just sat back down at the desk and continued to read.

“Y/N...Don’t be like this, please. I know you’re mad, but I’m here to apologize.” Steve begged after climbing in the window and shutting it. “I fucked up, and I know it. I want to talk about it if you’ll let me.”

She couldn’t even listen to him talk without tearing up again, so she stared at the book in front of her with her back to him. Eventually, Steve walked over to the desk and crouched down beside her, his hand cupping her cheek to pull her face towards his. When he did, he saw her tear-stained cheeks and his heart broke. The thought of her crying over him this whole time made him mentally kick himself for not coming sooner.

“Baby, please talk to me. I’m sorry for putting you through this shit. I know you don’t want to talk to me and you probably think I’m the worst boyfriend ever right now...but I’m trying, I really am, Y/N” Steve pleaded, his voice sounding desperate as it cracked.

“This is too complicated, Steve. It just hurts me. You might like me, but it’s obvious that you still love her more.” she whimpered as she blinked away some more tears.

“It’s really not that complicated. I love you and only you, Y/N! Even if you don’t want me here anymore, just know that I do really love you.” he said softly, brushing a strand of her hair from her face.

Her eyes lit up when he said the three little words she had been waiting to hear all weekend, and she broke down when he touched her again. A strained sob escaped her lips as she looked up at him, he could see the relief that filled her expression. He pulled her into his arms and carried her to the bed to lay down. She felt at home in his arms, her head buried in his neck as he held her.

“I love you too, Steve.” she whispered to him softly, her fingers running through his hair slowly.

“Is that all you needed me to say?” he asked, peering down at her with a small smile on his face.

She only hummed and nodded in response, satisfied with their current situation. She felt at ease once more, and Steve saying those three little words to her made her feel that way. His fingers rubbed along her back in a comforting way as she drifted in an out of sleep in his arms. He spoke softly to her about how much he loved her and how he wasn’t going anywhere until she fell asleep in his arms. She believed every word he was whispering to her for once, each one putting her more and more at ease.

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Could you do an angsty/fluff of Paul trying to win George back after cheating on him?

You Can’t Do That

a/n: I sprinkled in a couple lines from You Can’t Do That bc it’s the perfect song for this.

pairing: George Harrison x Paul McCartney

setting: late 50’s or early 60’s

warnings: none

The club was filled to the brim with jostling bodies by the time the set was finished. Paul had been trying-- really his best considering the amount of alcohol he had consumed between songs-- to follow behind everyone in their usually Congo line to the dressing room. But hands upon hands had pulled his away from where they were once secured on George’s shoulders.

Laughing off the tugging and pulling, he tried to return to his mates but stopped at a suddenly familiar voice. “Hey there, stranger.”

He twisted around in the bustling crowd to find a girl who was all too memorable smiling at him. Kate was her name. Yeah, pretty, pretty Kate that came and talked to him and him alone almost every night they performed. George had taken notice of the girl's special interest in Paul and Paul’s playing into it, which resulted in the two butting heads.

“I’m not trying to shag her!” Paul had remembered yelling at one point in their last argument.

“You can’t do that, Paulie! You can’t stand here and lie to me fucking face,” George had been yelling louder and louder until Paul just kissed him. Kissed away the argument until it was all but forgotten in the pursuit of passion and lust. Because he did want to shag the girl and he hated himself for it. He could not justify within himself how he could love George so much and still have this urge to do something that could hurt him so much more.

Deep down, he knew he craved more physical contact but still had no idea how to ask of it from George. Girls were easier. They offered to cuddle first. They offered to kiss first a lot of the time too. With George, he seemed to be doing all the asking and offering and it didn’t sit right. Girls were comfortable. Girls were familiar. But they weren’t George-- Paul’s definition of unfamiliar and uncertainty.

But those complex thoughts about complex feelings were out the window when Kate stood in front of him with her perfectly curled locks and soft angle face. “Hi,” Paul finally replied with a hesitant chuckle.

“Do you want to talk outside? You’re sweating like mad in this heat.” She had to yell over the new band playing, leaning in close to his ear. Her hot breath sent a shiver down his spine and he gulped down the feeling before nodding.

With that simple nod, she took his hand and led him away- farther and farther from his mates- from his boy. The boy he should be with instead. But he couldn't think about George over the blaring music and the ghost of Kate’s breath still on his ear.

It all happened in a whirlwind. They were outside and the fresh air was cooling Paul’s sweat gleaned skin and then he was against the brick wall right outside the club's doors and Kate’s lips were all over his. His brain shut down and he was kissing her back, beginning to lead her into the small alleyway with almost no parting of their lips. Once secluded, Kate became more frantic in her kiss and touch, hands wandering all over to tug at fabric. After untucking his shirt, her hands planted on his chest, her nails lightly digging at the skin until Paul moaned into the kiss. Arousal swarmed in his stomach and he opened his eyes to find it die immediately.

It was all too real and all too wrong. He realized with a stab of guilt that he wanted to see George when he opened his eyes. Kate was soft and sweet as honey but nothing like the cutting beauty of his George. The boy he had been dating for almost six months was what he wanted. It was so stupidly obvious.

He pulled Kate away, panting and trying to clear his fogged mind as her smile began to fade. “I-I’m sorry. I can’t be-“ Paul’s eyes darting down the alley just to keep from having to look at Kate but he quickly found George stood at the entrance, the backlighting of streetlights hiding his face. “George?” But Paul could have sworn he saw a tear streaming down the lad's face as he turned to run. “Wait!”

With a curse and a rushed apology to Kate, he took off after George. Sobriety began to take hold as he ran down the street, seeing George only a few paces ahead. The quiff of dark hair showed just above the crowds that they ran through until Paul had lost sight of George altogether. He slowed to a jog, eyes searching down every alley and head peeking around to every bus stop shelter. But he had no luck. George had disappeared into the night.

Fear began to rush through Paul at the thought of George alone somewhere this late at night. They admittedly weren’t in the safest part of town. Stabbings for just a couple bobs weren’t unheard of, especially as the docks came closer. That’s where the real Teddy Boys were, not the ones that boys his age pretended to be at school. Real Teddy Boys had knives and hand axes and had no qualms using them.

He ran faster and faster as horrid scenarios filled his head until his lungs couldn't bear it and he was doubled over a metal railing, heaving in air as he stared at the water below. The dark water churned and swirled in the channel, — so loud with the docks this empty— splashing up the side of the dock with only the scent of the water reaching Paul. He let himself be soothed by the movement of the water, his breathing slowing to something resembling normal.

With one last deep breath, he pulled himself up, ready to continue his search for George. He didn’t have to look far. As he turned around, he came face to face with the lad, whose face was red and whose jaw was set with a stern rigidity. He crossed his arms over his puffed chest and looked ready to murder Paul. But Paul could see the rim of red around his eyes in the glow of the street light. He might be mad but he was really sad, first and foremost. And it was all Macca’s fault.

“Stop following me, bastard.”

Paul wanted to point out the hypocrisy in George waiting here to tell him that but decided it wasn't the best time. “I was worried, Geo. Can get mugged through here if you aren’t careful.”

“Aye, worried. If that was so you wouldn’t be snogging-“ He suddenly thrust his hands forward, knocking Paul into the railing. Paul braced himself. “Some bird like I’m fucking nothing!” His voice broke into a sob.

“Listen, love-“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He pushed at Paul’s chest again and Paul let him, keeping his hands on the railing and head hung low.

“It was stupid- I was stupid...”

“You’re right there.” George crossed his arms again. He raised his brows expectantly. “What’s your excuse then? What’s keeping me from leaving you flat? Or should I leave now and spare myself your idiocy?”

Pulling in a shaky breath, Paul tried on his gentlest voice. “I’ve got no excuse because what I did is inexcusable.” Paul looked to Geo with pleading eyes. George huffed and began to turn away but Paulie caught his arm. “Geo please!”

Pulling his arm away, he shouted, “Don’t touch me! You won't be kissing this away.”

“Just hear me out and after that, you can leave me to rot if you’d like. That alright?”

“Aye. Leaving you to rot sounds just gear.”

Paul sighed, running a hand down his face. “I thought I wanted that bird and it was tearing me up inside because I know I love you, with all my heart. I was confused and stupid and she started kissing on me and I still thought it was what I wanted but when she touched me I wanted it to be you, George! I opened my eyes to find her and I knew it wasn't what I wanted. I just wanted you!”

“I haven’t been anywhere, Macca. I’ve been by your side the whole time. You’ve always had me.” George’s angry demeanor was breaking down as he worried at his bottom lip, his hands moving up and down his shoulders.

“I know, love. It’s all my fault that I didn’t just talk to you and tell you I wanted more... more of the physical stuff, y’know? But I was scared- scared if I told you how I felt I'd lose you because I didn’t even understand what was going through my head. This is just so new and all still. I don’t- I don’t know what to do half the time.”

George was quiet, his eyes on the ground as he swayed ever so slightly on the spot. The anticipation was eating Paul alive until he just wanted to disappear into the water and never emerge again. But then George was on him, his arms wrapped tightly around Macca’s back. Paul wasted no time in burying his nose into the crook of his mate's neck.

“Don’t think you’ll get off so easy next time,” George spoke into his hair, sending a comforting buzz through his body.

“There won't ever be a next time.”