#every other nice person can fuck off and go home | annie

[awkwardcourage]

@citizenstarlight

a gorgeous woman and her completely normal looking bf, and it’s just annie and hughie 💫🐶

[awkwardcourage]

silly little tag dump pls ignore.

roleplay tags

i don't want to go to a second location with you | threads

thank you for an extremely weird conversation | answered asks

with poise and willingness to improvise | nsfw

just when you think this shit can't get any more horrible | dead dove content

it is weird it's scary you wind up just saying shit | starters and memes

you wanna know what's really messed up? | wishlist and ideas

oh no i'm good i'm full of cocaine | open starter

hughie tags

i’m not an infiltrator! | visage

i am so angry i can't even breathe | musings

i can be that person who nobody thinks is awesome but actually they're kind of fucking awesome | headcanons

that was joel at the garden | aesthetics

i wanna be someone who saves his family | about

i've been meaning to clean up the supe stuff for a while now | interests

will you stop calling me that? i’m like six feet tall | it him

oh my god is that a threat or a promise? | wants and desires

misc

that was- that was so good that was really good i enjoyed that | compliments and gifts

don't you dare besmirch billy joel | out of character

where’d you get this stuff circuit city? | resources

you're my second wind | promo

then who the fuck are you?! | about the mun

you know what's insane? | psa

we gotta go in there don’t we? | queue

main verses

you're only human | main verse

you’re having a hard time and lately you don’t feel so good | main verse: first season

you’re getting a bad reputation in your neighbourhood | main verse: second season

you're allowed to make your share of mistakes | main verse: third season

it's not always easy to be living in this world of pain | main verse: fourth season

slow down you crazy child | childhood verse

alternative verses

simon & garfunkel | alternative verses

keep the customer satisfied | martyr verse

america | hunter verse

baby driver | hacker verse

the only living boy in new york | vampire verse

the tower coven | alternate vampire verse

CHARACTERS

the boys

like you're starring in porn version of the matrix | billy butcher

i don’t think now is the time for a major hallucinogen | frenchie

that’s a… nickname? | mother’s milk

she wants to know where you've been | kimiko miyashiro

family

every other nice person can fuck off and go home | annie

i have never told you everything | dad

your promise isn't worth the paper it's written on | mom

other characters

big fan | queen maeve

i'm totally comfortable | homelander

every single thing you say is so gross | soldier boy

RELATIONSHIPS

my mom left when i was six | relationships

the boys

you always were my canary | hughie and butcher

don’t be scared petit hughie | hughie and frenchie

you ain't going... i ain't going | hughie and mother's milk

i thought it sounded great | hughie and kimiko

family

you saved my life | hughie and annie

my wee hughie | hughie and dad

i don’t wanna be like her | hughie and mom

dude i had to ask you out! | hughie and robin

[theangelofthedesert]

Can't Think Straight ~Pt. 1~

I always thought of myself as a normal person. Just a regular 17-year-old girl going to school and trying not to fuck up her life. A girl with a few-but good friends, good grades, excellent parents, and an awesome boyfriend. Like I said, I always thought I was normal, just like anyone else. But…There’s this thing, this…feeling, like there’s something wrong. Most of the time I choose to ignore it, as long as I can move on with my day as usual.

Everything was going according to my schedule: Wake up. Take a shower. Have breakfast with my family. Go to school. Do homework with my friends and finally, hang out with my boyfriend. Until the point where I saw a moving truck parked in the garage of the house next to mine, which normally isn’t something weird but…

“Oh, new neighbors!” said  my boyfriend, Matt. “We should go say hi, Annie.” The thing about this town is that it’s so small, every time someone new moves in everyone finds out and tries to investigate every little detail about them, which leads to gossip around the town. Only a few families that have lived here for generations are the ones that still stay in Murkwell Valley for the rest of their life. That was the case of my family. The Watsons have lived in this town for 10 generations and the current Watsons have no intentions of leaving. My parents: Robert and Galena Watson, had dated since high school and, according to them, always thought of getting married once Dad finished college. By the time they were my age, they had already planned their whole future together; and they always make it a point to remind me that I should do the same.

Me? I don’t even know what to study in college, how the heck am I supposed to think about getting married right now? I don’t know if Matt is planning for us to have a future together either. Dad always talks about the way Mom looked the first time he saw her: long dark-brown hair, hazel eyes, and a beautiful smile. He says he just knew he had to marry her. Mom remembers Dad as a tall, black haired bad-boy with gray eyes and that it was love at first sight. Dad says I look just like Mom, but with some of his facial features. My sister, on the other hand, looks exactly like Dad, and my brother looks like Mom. I’m more like a combination of the two of them. That being said, Matt and I have only dated for like 3 months and my parents act like he is the one who will carry me to the altar.

“Ok, let’s go just to say hi, then we can go home.” I said, a little tired. I just wanted to go to sleep after the hard day I had at school with all the preparations for the school’s Pride Dance for the anniversary of its founder, and college counseling to help with choosing the right major; but Matt was too nice to just ignore the new people next door. We started walking towards the truck, when we saw a fluffy dog running in our direction trying to get away from its owner. 

I kneeled and grabbed the runaway dog. As I was trying to look for its tag among all the fur, a girl’s voice caught my attention.

“Hey! That’s my dog!” When I turned to look at her, I went into shock. The girl looked my age but had bobbed, curly, colorful hair, with the right side shaved off. She also had a little piercing on her nose, sky-blue eyes and pale skin. The word that came to my mind was “beautiful”. I had never seen a person that looked like that in this town, since everyone is VERY catholic, we're usually not allowed to dye our hair or pierce our skin. She looked so cool. “Sorry, I was returning from a walk to calm his energy, but it seems he needed a longer walk”

“Oh, don’t worry, I was just catching him for you” I said as I laughed awkwardly and scratched my head. “That’s a beautiful dog,” I added. For someone who is leader of the welcome committee at school, I suck at social interactions with new people, but since I pretty much already know everyone here, I don’t have the necessity of introducing myself that often.

She smiled at me and then looked at the dog. “Yeah, he is pretty cute. It’s a Finnish Spitz, aka a domestic fox,” She laughed “The downside to the breed is its energy.” Once the dog was secured with its leash, she got up and waved at us. “Hi! You must be our neighbors” The girl extended her hand at me. “I’m Minerva, but my friends call me Mina!” She smiled as I grabbed her hand. “And you are…?” She’s so formal.

“Oh! My name is Annabelle, but I go by Annie” Her eyes looked so deep, yet so soft as they gazed back at me. A strange thought came to my mind, but quickly disappeared when Matt shook her hand.

“I’m Matt, Annie’s boyfriend.” Her smile dropped for a second, but came back again as she looked at me. What was that about? “Welcome to Murkwell Valley, Mina.” 

“Thanks for the welcome. It’s nice to know the neighbors are friendly” She kept her eyes on me with a big smile. “And thank you, for catching my dog, I owe you one.”

“Oh, I was just worried that it would run onto the street and get hit or something, you don’t owe me anything” I said, while playing nervously with the edge of my sweater sleeves. She then continued to insist, saying her conscience wouldn’t allow the savior of her ‘precious baby’ go unrewarded. “Ok then, you can pay me back by coming for dinner at my house.” I suggested, but quickly added “-you can bring your family, of course. That way our parents can meet and talk before the other neighbors organize a welcome party and make things awkward by asking a bunch of questions” Her face lit up and nodded. “Great! Dinner at eight, hope you can make it.”

“I’ll tell my parents right away. See you later, Annie.” For some reason, the way she said my name left me feeling weird, as I saw her jump back to her house being followed by her dog. Well, that interaction didn’t go as badly as I imagined. Maybe there’s hope for my awkwardness after all. I’m actually glad we ran into each other, and I hope to get to know more about her…

“What a sweet girl, I hope you can make friends with her!” Matt brought me back from whatever I was thinking, into reality. I shook my head to clear my mind and looked at him. “What happened? You spaced out for a second there.”

“Sorry, I must be mentally beat after today. Volunteering to help Ms. Matisse grade papers was seriously a terrible idea” Matt giggled as he took my hand and walked me back to my house. “You can come to dinner too if you want, babe.” I said hopefully.

“Ehm… I think I’ll pass. The boys invited me to a pre-game party to prepare for this year’s Battle of Murkwell Valley High. Lots of schools from different towns are coming to challenge the current winning team. Us. I even heard a school from the big city is coming.” The big city was actually the state’s capital, Kingsham, but we in the town call it that because there’s only small towns around it and no other city. Matt left a kiss on my forehead and smiled, “Besides, you can start getting to know your new neighbor. You have been a little sad since Holly went to see her mom for the holidays.” I appreciated Matt’s attempt of making me feel better, but I had forgotten Holly left since I had too many things to do, and meeting Mina just now had also cleared my mind of any thoughts. Matt wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. As our lips touched, all the weird thoughts in my mind cleared out, except for one, preventing me from totally enjoying my boyfriend’s embrace.

“Ok, I’ll try to be her friend.” I said with a big sigh because I knew he wouldn’t let the situation go until I caved in. “I love you, babe.” He let out a nervous laugh, probably because he still wasn’t ready to say it back, even when he said it was fine that I said it first.

“I… should go. Gotta help mom with some things before I go to the meeting” I thought it was a party? Whatever, I’m not gonna say anything. He let go of his embrace and quickly grabbed his thing and left. I stood outside the door until I saw Matt leave the street of my house, then I went back in, just to find my parents in the living room watching a movie. I went past them, leaving a kiss on their cheeks and walking towards the kitchen, where my food was in the fridge, waiting for me to reheat it since I got out of school late.

Once I was done washing my plate, I stayed in the living room, chatting with my parents about school and other stuff for a few hours. They asked if Matt had already invited me to the dance, to which I said yes, knowing full well that he didn’t want to come in the first place because he thought it was boring and a waste of time, even though he was aware I was one of the people organizing the damn thing. Nevertheless, I felt that if I said anything he wouldn’t pay attention, like he does when I try to tell him how I feel. 

Later in the day I went upstairs to get ready for dinner. I told my mom as I was going up that I invited the new neighbors over to get to know them, she didn’t seem to mind and started to cook dinner for more people. Gotta love her ability to adapt to a change of plans. On my way to my room, I said ‘Hi’ to my brother, who had his door open and just waved at me; and to my sister, who only responded by closing her door. 

When I was in my room, I quickly took a shower and started to look in my closet for possible options to wear tonight. I narrowed it down to two dresses. One was pink with white flowers on it, the other one was red with black details at the bottom. I decided the pink one was too girly, so I grabbed the red dress and got changed.

As I was putting on a red bra, I noticed the window in the house next to mine had the lights turned on. When I took a closer look, I realized it was Minerva’s room, since I could see the jacket she was wearing today hanging by the door. My face suddenly turned red at the thought of that girl watching me change. I dressed as fast as I could, then I went to see if she was in her room, but Mina wasn’t there.

Since I was already dressed for dinner, I just sat down next to the window while I analyzed the things I saw in her room. There was a shelf with a lot of books, some boxes with the labels “make up” and “winter clothes”, her bed with blue sheets and her laptop on top of it. Multiple band posters were already up on the walls and some weird plushies adorned her desk. She clearly had a busy morning setting up her room. I also saw her dog’s bed in the corner with the word “Zero” stitched to the front, but as I was looking at it, the door opened. Her dog walked in like it owned the place, then Mina walked in wearing just a towel around her body and another on her hair. My face lit up red again, making me throw myself to the ground so she couldn’t see me. 

Once the awkwardness went away, I decided to take a quick look, just to see if she’d noticed me on the window. I slowly raised my head, hoping she didn’t notice how creepy I was being, just to find her looking at dresses like I was doing moments ago. That’s when I realized she was just as nervous as me to have dinner tonight, even if it was with our whole family. I figured making friends was probably difficult for her. Mina looked just as nice as she was this afternoon, the only thing different was the fact that she was still wearing only a towel. Just as that thought crossed my mind, she turned her head around towards the window, forcing me to close the drapes in panic. I don’t know if she saw me or not, but I wouldn’t blame her if she changed her mind about coming to dinner…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is gonna be a long story that I hope I can continue to update and not leave unfinished like all of my other works lmao With the help of a dear friend serving as my editor, I'll make sure to write a few chapters in advance to keep posting regularly <3

[waitimcomingtoo]

Never Try, Never Know

Pairing: Peter Parker enemies to lovers

Synopsis: Flash pesters you about your sex life

Read the series or read on its own

Masterlist

A month later, you were in Peter’s room once again. Doing your homework together had once again become a make out session.

You were underneath Peter with your hands up in his hair. Your skirt was hiked up around your waist and his jeans were brushing against you every time he moved. His hand was resting just below your boob, pressing firmly on your rib cage. As you kissed him, you slowly moved his hand up and kept yours on top of his. You squeezed your hand, prompting him to squeeze your boob. You could feel him smile into the kiss as he gained more confidence. He slipped his hand under your shirt and brushed his thumb over your bra. You moaned into his mouth, hoping he would keep going. You could feel his boner against your thigh and you were dying for him to take the next step already.

“Can I take my shirt off? You whispered against his lips. He nodded eagerly in response. You pulled away from Peter for a moment to pull your shirt off and tossed it to the floor. His cheeks tinted pink since this was the first time you’d done this. He shyly looked at you and gulped so you gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s okay.” You told him. “You can touch me.”

Peter hesitated before putting his hand back on your boob. He bent down to kiss you again and slowly trailed kisses down your neck. You were combing your fingers through his hair as he kissed the tops of your breasts, thinking you were finally about to go all the way with him. Before you had a chance to do anything else, Peter pulled away and groaned.

“Oh my God.” He gulped and sat up.

“Are you okay?” You sat up as well to check on him.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

You slumped back on the bed as Peter climbed off and went to the bathroom. Once you heard his shower turn on, you let out an angry huff. You squeezed your legs together in frustration before slipping your shirt back on.

That was how it always went. You’d get close but never go all the way. You knew Peter was a virgin, but you were starting to think he wanted to stay that way. You didn’t want to push Peter before he was ready, but your sexual frustration was getting to be more than you could handle. If you waited any longer, you thought you might explode.

“I’m back.” Peter announced, pulling you out of your thoughts. “Sorry about that. I get overstimulated very easily. All my nerve endings are extra sensitive.”

“It’s fine.” You faked a smile as he sat next to you. “But you know, you don’t have to calm yourself down every time. You could run with it.”

“Run with it?” Peter asked. “You mean, you want me to…”

“Fuck me. Yeah.” You nodded. “Just a suggestion.”

Peter’s face blushed all the way down to his neck at your bluntness. He shyly laughed and put his lap top on his lap.

“You’re crazy.” He chuckled. “What do you want to watch?”

“I’m fine with anything.” You faked a smile and rested your head on his shoulder. You didn’t want him to know you were disappointed. If he wasn’t ready, then he wasn’t ready. The only problem was, you were a little more then ready. You were two close calls away from begging him to fuck you, and you could only hope it wouldn’t resort to that.

~

You were in a bad mood the next day at school. All you could think about was how badly you wanted to get off. It felt like Peter was dangling himself in front of you but never letting you have him. To make a bad day worse, Flash spotted you at your locker and decided to pester you.

“Hey, pretty lady.” He smiled as he flicked some of your hair off your shoulder. “What are you doing tonight? Wanna get Flash-y on a Friday?”

“Fuck off.” You groaned. “I have a boyfriend.”

“There is no way you and Parker are actually together.” Flash scoffed when you rejected him. “This has got to be some weird hate sex thing.”

You froze when he mentioned sex since it was currently a sensitive topic for you.

“It’s not.” You said quickly. “Peter is my boyfriend, and you make me drier than sandpaper. Buh bye.”

You pushed him away from you and kept walking, but he followed.

“Who do you guys think you’re fooling? Everyone knows you guys hate each other.” Flash insisted.

“We used too.” You shrugged. “Now we love each other.”

“Are you sure you’re not just hooking up to get your frustration out and thinking it’s a relationship?”

You sucked in a sharp breath when he mentioned it again, growing frustrated now.

“I’m positive.” You grumbled.

“Why?”

“Because we haven’t even…” You trailed off when you realized you said too much. But it was too late. Flash’s jaw dropped as he bounced up and down.

“You guys haven’t had sex yet?” He asked. “How? You’ve been together like two months.”

“Can you keep your voice down please?” You hissed. “It’s none of your business. And it’s normal for couples to wait.”

“You know what?” Flash snickered. “I’m not even surprised that you guys haven’t done it yet. He’s not man enough to try anything.”

“Yes he is.” You said. “Shut up Flash.”

“Are you sure about that?” Flash taunted.

“Yes.” You snapped as your confidence slowly faded. “I’m sure. Now leave me alone.”

“I kinda feel sorry for you.” He continued. “You’re dating the man who played the girl part in last years musical. It’s probably the only girl part he’s ever seen.”

“Shut up.” You repeated. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I? Because I’m willing to bet Peter doesn’t have a single clue what to do in bed. He’d be like, “orgasm? You mean organism? It’s an animal, plant, or single celled life form”, or something.” Flash mimicked his voice. “He’s probably awful. He’ll never be able to please you.”

“Yes he can.” You said quietly, but you weren’t sure. You hated to admit it, but you were starting to think Flash might be right.

“How would you know?” Flash taunted. That pushed you to your edge. You knew if you didn’t say something now, Flash would tell the whole school and humiliate Peter.

“Because I was kidding. We have had sex.” You lied. “He sexed me like, a hundred times. Including last night.”

“Really?” Flash narrowed his eyes.

“Yeah. He nearly broke my pelvis.” You continued. “That’s why I’m in leggings today. I’m really sore.”

“Peter Parker left you sore?” Flash snorted. “What’d he do? Forgot you were there and sit on you?”

“No. He fucked me.” You said confidently this time. “Really, really well.”

“Nope. I don’t believe you.” Flash shook his head. “There is no way Little orphan Annie is having sex. Not a chance.”

“Well, he is.” You shrugged. “And he’s got a huge dick. Like, the size of a salt shaker.”

“Salt shakers are like two inches.” Flash scoffed.

“Not the kind you have at home.” You rolled your eyes. “Like, the really big ones at Italian restaurants. That size.”

“For real?” Flash’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.” You began to lose confidence in your lying ability. “Real, um, real monster cock on that boy. He’s uh, he’s a mouthful.”

“You mean handful?” Flash asked.

“I said what I said.”

“No way.” Flash gasped.

“Uh huh. He’s the best I ever had.” You egged it on. “By a long shot, too. He really knows what he’s doing.”

“You’re telling me Peter Parker is some kind of sex god?” Flash raised an eyebrow.

“Yep.” You replied. “In fact, I’m going to his apartment later for more. I just can’t get enough. You’d understand if you were getting it this good.”

“Who would have thought.” Flash shook his head. “I certainly didn’t see this coming.”

“Well, speaking of coming, I better go. Peter’s expecting me.” You smiled tightly and walked away from Flash. You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment as you left him, unsure of how much damage you had just done.

~

Flash spotted Peter at the lockers the next day and thought of your conversation from the day before. Always looking for trouble, he walked up to Peter and leaned against his locker.

“Hey, Penis Parker.” Flash said with a grin.

“Go away Flash.” Peter groaned.

“Woah.” Flash held up his hands. “That’s no way to talk to someone who knows your dirty little secret.”

Peter stiffened when he heard this and gave his full attention to Flash.

“What?”

“Yup.” He nodded. “I was just talking to Y/n and she told me all about your double life.”

“She what?” Peter asked as he began to panic.

“Yeah. I can’t believe you were able to keep it hidden this long. I’m almost impressed.” Flash said as he folded his arms. Peter grabbed him by the shirt and pressed him up against the lockers as Flash gasped.

“Woah, woah, woah. Take me to dinner first, jeez.” Flash said as Peter loosened his grip.

“What do you know?” Peter said through gritted teeth.

“Not much. Just that you’re not the man I thought you were.” Flash winked.

“What?” Peter flushed with rage.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Flash said before blowing him a kiss. “Bye!”

Peter watched him leave as a nervous anger settled in his stomach. He didn’t know Flash was talking about something entirely different. He assumed you told him about his Spider-Man secret and he was furious with you.

After school, Peter walked to your apartment and used his spare key. He found you in your room and wasted no time in letting you have it.

“What did you tell Flash?” Peter demanded as he slammed the door behind him. You were someone who hated being yelled at, so you were immediately annoyed with Peter’s behavior.

“Woah.” You scoffed. “Nice to see you too.”

“Why did Flash tell me I wasn’t he man he thought I was?” Peter continued. “Did you tell him I was Spiderman?”

“Excuse me?” You stood up angrily. “You can’t just barge in here, yelling at me and accusing me of exposing your secret.”

“I can when you told the worst person we know something I trusted you with.” Peter snapped. “Did you seriously tell him I was Spiderman?”

“Yes, Peter. I told Flash your biggest secret.” You said sarcastically. “I went straight up to him and said, “hey, want to hear some information my boyfriend specifically trusted me to keep?” Then I made rode off in his porch and we made love under the stars. Oh, and we’re writing a cookbook together. It’s called “I Didn’t tell Flash Your Fucking Secret”. You can preorder now.”

“Real funny.” Peter seethed. “If you didn’t tell him, then why did he say you told him my secret? Why was he impressed that I had hidden it for so long?”

“Because I told him…” Your shouting trailed off when you realized what you told Flash was much worse.

“Told him what?” Peter asked angrily.

“Nothing. I didn’t tell him anything. Just calm down.” You rolled your eyes and flopped back on the bed.

“I am calm.” He yelled. “You have to tell me what you said to him.”

“No I don’t.” You said simply. “I have the right to remain silent. I don’t have to tell you shit.”

“If you didn’t tell him I was Spiderman then what could you have possibly told him?” Peter whined as he sat next to you. He was smart enough to know yelling at you would just make you more defensive.

“I don’t want to tell you.” You said quietly.

“Why?”

“It’s embarrassing.” You whined as you covered your face.

“So is your outfit.” Peter shrugged. You uncovered your face to narrow your eyes at him.

“Fucker.” You grumbled.

“Just tell me.” Peter groaned. “Or I’ll shit the bed next time we cuddle.”

“I need you to take a step back from this conversation and think about what you just said to me.” You said seriously.

“I’ll do it.” He threatened.

“Fine. I told him you were…” You mumbled the end of the sentence so even with his super hearing, he couldn’t hear you.

“What?”

“I told him you were really good at sex.” You reluctantly confessed. “I told him all the dirty little secrets of our sex life and that’s what he was talking about when he came up to you. I didn’t tell him anything about spiderman. I cannot believe you think I’d do that to you.”

“You…wait, what?” Peter stuttered as his face went bright red. “What?!”

“Don’t make me repeat it.” You pleaded.

“How did you tell him about our sex life if we never...” Peter’s sentence tapered off like it usually did when it came to talking about something real.

“Fucked?” You raised an unamused eyebrow. If he couldn’t even say the word, you wondered how he’d ever do the action.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “That.”

“I don’t know. I made stuff up.” You shrugged. “I told him we had sex all the time and that you were super good at it. And that, you know, you have a monster cock.” You mumbled the last part out of embarrassment.

“A what?” Peter sputtered. “A fucking what?”

“I was hyping you up.” You defended yourself. “And it’s not like I can’t feel it when we spoon.”

Peter flushed again and rubbed his face.

“Why were you telling him any of this?” He asked wearily.

“Because.” You mumbled, not wanting to tell Peter why the topic ever came up.

“Because why?” He pressed.

“Because he was saying you’d never be able to please me and you were too inexperienced to try anything so I put him in his place.” You explained. “I’m the only one who can make fun of you like that. Not him.”

Peter looked at you with sad eyes as the weight of your words hit him.

“Is that what you think?” He worried. “That I couldn’t please you?”

“What? No, Pete.” You shook your head. “I don’t think that. That’s just what Flash was saying. You know how he is.”

“But he’s right.” Peter gulped. “I am inexperienced. You were my first kiss. I’d have no idea how to...you know.”

“That’s okay.” You assured him. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

That didn’t sit well with Peter. Instead of cheering him up, it made him feel worse.

“Have you had sex before?” He asked quietly. You blinked a few times, knowing your answer would only make the situation worse.

“Yeah.” You nodded stiffly. “I have.”

“Shit.” Peter whispered as he looked down. You noticed he was clenching and unclenching his fist, something he did when he was anxious.

“Peter, I’m sorry.” You got off the bed and put your hands on his face. “I didn’t mean to make you feel insecure. We can just drop this. It doesn’t matter.”

“You feel the same way, don’t you?” Peter frowned with glassy eyes. “You agree with what Flash said so you overcompensated on my behalf. That’s why you told him all those things.”

“Pete, I don’t give a fuck what Flash says.” You told him. “I never have. I was just trying to shut him up.”

“You just told me you don’t expect anything from me.” He said as he moved away from you. “You don’t think I could please you, do you? You think I’m too innocent and inexperienced.”

“Well, you are innocent and inexperienced.” You said calmly. “But that’s not a bad thing. We love each other, okay? And when we’re ready to take the next step, we will.”

Peter sucked in a sharp breath and bit his bottom lip, telling you he was fighting back tears. You put one hand on his shoulder and one on his face in an attempt to comfort him.

“Hey.” You said soothingly. “What’s wrong?”

“First you tell me you wanted to sleep with Bucky, and now I find out you’re telling Flash about our ridiculous make believe sex life because you were too embarrassed to tell him we don’t have one.” Peter said sadly.

“What do those two things have to do with the other?”

“I can’t compete!” Peter exclaimed. “Flash is probably right. I probably can’t please you. I’m just…I’m just a virgin who can’t drive.”

“It’s okay.” You chuckled. “I knew both of those things before I started dating you.”

You only made the situation worse by saying this. The confidence had been knocked right out of Peter and it showed. He was visible shaken over the conversation and you wished it never started.

“Pete.” You sighed. “You don’t have to get upset about this. It’s just a stupid thing Flash said.”

“A stupid thing Flash said that you’re worried is true.” Peter stated. You opened your mouth but quickly shut it when you realized he was right. As much as you hated to admit it, Flash had gotten in your head.

“I’m not worried.” You said weakly.

“I can smell when you’re lying.” Peter said as he glared at you.

“That’s not fair.” You groaned. “Don’t sniff out my emotions.”

“It’s not just your emotions. It’s what you’re saying.” Peter protested. “You were too ashamed to tell him we haven’t had sex yet, weren’t you? And now you think what he said was right.”

“I’m not ashamed. But, I mean, it’s not like you ever try anything.” You shrugged. “We make out and then you take a cold shower and put on a movie. I’m not trying to push you before you’re ready, but Jesus Peter. You can’t even say the word “fuck”. You could barely say “horny” a month ago. They’re just words. You don’t have to be scared of them.”

“I’m not scared. I was trying to be a gentleman. But apparently, that’s not good enough for you.” He shot back.

“Are you mad at me? Is this a fight?” You honestly wondered. You didn’t expect him to react the way he was and it was throwing you off. You’d gotten into plenty of arguments before, but never like this. You were a couple now and the stakes were much higher.

“I don’t know how I feel right now. I know this conversation made me feel really bad, though.” He answered. Your eyes softened for a moment before your anger returned.

“What’s your problem? You should be thanking me.” You insisted. “Flash is probably telling the whole school how great you are in bed. Why are you so upset?”

“I’m upset because my girlfriend thinks I can’t fuck her.” Peter gravely as he stared you in the eyes. You uncrossed your arms and blinked a few times, surprised that he finally said it.

“Yeah.” He stated as he got ready to leave. “I can say the word.”

Tag List 🏷

@awesomebooklover17 @thebookwormlife @imanativeofswlondondahling @weirdr-artiest @serendipitous-amor @dummiesshort

@foreverxholland @lavender-writer @michaela072796 @whatareyouhidingpeter @takenbyheartstrings @ultrunning @imyourliquor-youremypoison @andreasworlsboring101 @waiting-to-be-myself @letsloveimagines @peterparkoure @a-villain-vying-for-attention @justcallmehitgirl @jackiehollanderr @tiny-friggin-human @mara-twins @iamaunicorn4704 @maryjanee23 @geeksareunique @emmamarshmellow @unbelievableholland @flixndchill @sovereignparker @thisisthebiplace @spideydobrik @every-marveler-ever @undiadeestos @caelestii-e @eridanuswave @itscaminow @fiantomartell @solarxmoonchild @canyouevencauseicant @illwritetomorrow @thehappygrungelife @saysomethingspiderman @smilexcaptainx @quaksonhehe @kelieah @kickingn-ames​ @seasidecrowbar @lovelessdagger @love-sick-blues @electraheart-3174 @unbelievableholland @yourtypicalhotmess @spideyanakin @horanxholland @thesuitelifeofafangirl @anapocalypseinmymind @marshxx @heyheycharlatte @nooneinvitedfascistbarbie @tomshufflepuff @cookiemonstermusic258

@maybemona​ @alexxcorona113 @lethal-wisdom @xo-spidey @im-still-tryin-to-find-it​ @big-galaxy-chaos @pandaxnienke​ @theincredibledeadlyviper  @thestylestour  @officialsimppage​ @mrvelscaptains​ @peterbenjiparker​ @itsemohours @okkulta​ @parkerlovebot​ @jungkxxkk​ @friendlyneighborhood-mendes @whatthefuckimbisexual​ @olixerwxxd​ @starkbrain​ @creatorofthegalaxy​ @f-hollands @ilovefrogs1000​ @itstaskeen​ @itmatteredatthetime​ @wrendermeuseless @amazinggracy​ @iprobablyshipit91​ @magicalxdaydream​ @whereismytelephone @theonly1outof-a-billion​ @leilanixx​ @namoreno​ @bi-lmg​ @dracoswhore007 @tomhollandloml​ @avengers-hamiltrash @sunshinepeterparkr @gh0stgurl​ @so-very-asleep​ @veryholland @white-wolf1940 @spideycheles @wonderzwndaya​ @fanficaddict13125 @pinklxmonade @thebestqueenoftheworld @nowayhomeparker @willowestelle @imobsessedzs @spideyspeaches @bookfrog242 @hihiweezing @mathletemadison @hollandprkr

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

THE PEACE MAKER

Prompt: Requested, by the lovely @banks4life

Thank you so much for your request babes, I hope you’ll like it 😉

Word Count: Bitch, grab a snack, ‘cuz this is LONG

Pairings: Roman Reigns x Reader x Seth Rollins

Warnings: +18, smut, threesome, anal sex, rough sex, car sex, dom x sub dynamic, name calling, DP (double penetration), fingering, oral sex (female receiving), angst.

Tag: @ziasaph , @marlananicole , @akiko-tanaka , @wickedsunfire , @sassymox , @nicolewoo , @saccreigns , @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan , @mindofasagittaruis , @reigns-5sos , @auawdo , @lustyromantic , @babydee17 , @yungbludjazz360 , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic

Notes: This was something people 🥵💦. I have some exciting news! 🤗 From now on I’ll have an official editor. How cool is that? This means no more misspellings for me and you get to enjoy a fic with a nice flow and correctly grammar 🤣 My editor is the incredible and amazing @rheacanbreakme , Annie is the one responsible for helping me with my writing and she is an INCREDIBLE writer as well! So please, if you can, make sure to check her out, you won’t regret it 😉 You can check out my previous fics on my Masterlist, if you’d like. Now, let’s get the fun started, shall we?

Sighing in relief, I placed my bags underneath the stairs and ran quickly towards the kitchen when I heard the commotion coming from there.

The loud screaming and cursing almost made me deaf.

“What is going on in here?” I asked

“Shut the fuck up, fool! You can’t make her cum like that, not even if you tried hard to!” Roman yelled at Seth, completely ignoring me.

“What the fuck did you just say?” Seth ran quickly towards Roman, desperately trying to throw a punch at him

“HEY, HEY, HEY” I yelled as loud as I could, stepping in between their bodies and placing one hand on the chest of both of the men

“C’mon, bitch! I ain’t afraid of you!” Roman teased Seth

“ENOUGH!” I pushed Seth away, making him finally look at me

“You’re choosing his side, Y/N?” Seth asked in disbelief

“I’m not choosing anything! I don’t even know what the hell is going on!”

“It’s pretty simple: Lover boy here was sniffing around my stuff, opened a computer folder called ‘Private’ and found some of our sex videos, did not like what he saw, even though he was the one snooping through other’s business, and now he wants to pick a fight with me because of it” Roman explained

“Seth, why did you open the folder?” I asked

“Because I wanted to see what’s up with it, since he keeps it to himself like it contains the keys to heaven or something”

“It is heaven! As you saw” Roman smirked

“I’m gonna rip your fucking head off!!” Seth ran, and I stopped him

“Seth, don’t!” I pushed him away “And you” I looked at Roman “Stop teasing him”

“He did that shit on purpose, Y/N!” Seth said

“No, I didn’t” Roman defends himself “I was showering, I left it open because I was gonna watch it after! Then you sneaked into my room and decided it was a good idea to open MY personal folder that was in MY MacBook in MY bedroom!”

“Seth, is this true?” I looked into his eyes

“I thought it was pictures or videos of him with another woman! A side chick or something”

“Bitch” Roman scoff “I don’t need a side chick! I CAN keep it in my pants, unlike some other people” Roman measured him with his eyes from head to toe

“ARGH” Seth roared, trying to attack him again

“Goddamn it, STOP!” I grabbed Seth’s face and forced him to look at me “Please, stop” I begged, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath

“That was low” I narrowed my eyes at Roman

“What? I didn’t lie” He said, shrugging

“Stop talking, please! You’re not helping at all!”

“Are you gonna defend him, even though he’s wrong?” Roman asked, slightly shocked

“You two, stop with this defending bullshit! I’m not picking anyone’s side! THERE ARE NO SIDES FOR ME TO PICK!” I yelled exasperated, took a deep breath and looked at them “I’m just trying to make sure that neither of you do anything dumb”

When I have both of their attention I continued

“I just got home and instead of having a welcome home kiss I almost got a welcome home punch in the face! Seth, you shouldn’t have invaded Roman’s privacy. We’re supposed to respect each other’s personal space in this house and we all know that personal belongings are off limits and the bedrooms too, unless the owner of the room allows us in. Isn’t that right?” I asked and he nodded

“Good. And Roman, I thought we were all adults who know better than to tease the other person like if we were in 8th grade when that other person is extremely nervous” I looked at him and he mouthed a ‘he started’ and I just stared at him harshly

Roman sighed “Yeah, you’re right”

After a few minutes of silence Seth says

“I have a night class at Black and Brave, so I’m just gonna head off” He whispered to me

“Ok, babe” I caressed his bearded cheek, knowing that this was his way to calm down, even though his class doesn’t start until 3 hours from now.

Seth hugged me tightly, pecking my lips

“I missed you. I’m glad you’re back home” He smiled softly

“Yeah, me too, bubba” I kissed his cheek

“See you later, baby”

“See ya, and be careful!” I followed him to the front door

Seth winked at me as he grabbed his duffle bag, and waved at me once he reached his car, which is when I closed the door

I returned to the kitchen and looked at Roman, who was sipping on a beer bottle

“Did Mrs. Soft Feelings leave already?” He asked

“Ro, that’s not nice! Don’t talk about him like that, you know I don’t like it! But yeah, he left”

“Good” He placed me on top of the kitchen island, completely ignoring what I just said “‘Cuz I’ve wanted to do this ever since I saw you”

Roman’s lips teased my own. Kissing me sensually, taking every chance to nibble at my lips.

“I missed you so fucking much” Roman sighed, hugging me tightly

“I missed you too, big dog” I squeezed his ass cheeks, making him chuckle

“So, our old videos, huh?” I asked

“I missed you. I needed something to ease the pain, you know? I couldn’t get you out of my head”

“Which head?” I giggled

“Both heads” Roman winked

“I think I can help you with that” I replied, dipping my hand inside his sweatpants

“Oh, please do” Roman moaned once my hand closed around his erection “Fuck, it feels so good” Roman rested his forehead on mine “Hmmm baby, just like that...Fuck I missed this”

Roman opened my button up shirt, sinking his head down to the top of my breasts, sucking, licking and biting.

“Your skin is so soft” He whispered against my breasts “Specially your tits. Always drive me insane”

“Roman” I moaned and he grabbed me in his arms, taking us to the living room, where he placed me on the couch before leaning back

“I wanna fuck you so bad” Roman panted, quickly removing his clothes as I did the same.

I moaned loudly when he entered me.

“Isn’t it so good to be home baby girl?” Roman chuckled, mocking me

My walls squeezed around him, making him groan loudly

“That’s so mean of you” He half moaned uncontrollably

“That’s what you get for mocking me”

“I could never!” Roman pretended to be offended, and began to pound mercilessly into me

“You’re so fucking wet...I can tell this pussy missed my cock, didn’t it baby?”

“Oh yes, daddy. So fucking much!”

“That’s it, baby. Scream for daddy”

Roman and I both screamed in pleasure as we came.

“Wanna take a bath?” Roman asked playfully

“Sure, I fucking need one” I giggled

.......................................................................................

“You’re going to sleep with him tonight?”

“Ro, please don’t start with me...You know he has the odd days this month”

“Can I persuade you into forgetting that and staying with me instead?”

“You know that’s not fair”

“Well, I think I should have some type of reward don’t you?”

“For what?”

“Not knocking his teeth down his throat for touching my stuff without permission”

I laughed “Roman, you’re a grown ass man! Please, behave yourself”

“He still deserves a punch!”

“Babe” I said as I sat up on his lap “Please, help me out?! Look” I sighed “You know I’m not one for comparison, but we both also know that it’s no secret you’re way more mature than Seth in some aspects, so I’m begging you: Please don’t do this to me! Don’t stick your head up your ass and become as childish as he is, please? I need someone to deal with the situation as an adult and I know that’s not gonna come from Seth but I do hope it comes from you” I give him some puppy eyes for an extra effects

Roman sighed “Fine. You won! I’ll be the mature one”

“Thank you” I squealed, hugging him tightly

“Yeah, yeah” He chuckled “But I’m already letting you know that the next time he touches my stuff I will break his teeth AND his fingers!”

“Noted!”

…………………………………………………............................

I was waiting for Seth, laying down on his bed, when his bedroom door opened.

“Hey bubba” I smiled, opening my arms for him

Seth smiled widely, jumped on the bed and hugged me tightly

“Ah, I missed this” He said, inhaling the perfume on my neck

I giggled, asking “So, how was the night class?”

“Good, but I know what can be better” He smirked, pinning me down on the mattress...

The next morning I had an early class at college so I was the first one to wake up, followed by Seth

“What are you doing up so soon?” He asked, hugging me from behind as I waited for my toast to be ready

“I have an early class”

“Come back to bed” He mumbled against my shoulder

“Bubba, I can’t!” I chuckled softly “You know that”

“But we miss you” Seth pressed his hard on against my butt cheeks

“I know but I really can’t” I turned around and softly kissed his neck “But we can fix that later if you‘d like” I winked at him

Seth sighed heavily “Fine” He murmured, slightly upset

“C’mon bubs, don’t be like that” I hugged him tightly “I need papa waiting for me when I come back home” I smiled when his eyes shifted to his Dom mode, which often happened whenever I called him papa

“Are you gonna let me make a video with you too, so I can have my own?” Seth asked, with a raspy voice

“I’ll let you do whatever you want with me” I leaned forward, reached his ear and whispered “Papa” Giggling, when I felt the pressure of his grip around my neck

“We’re going to have so much fun when you come back” Seth laughed coldly

“Hmmm, I can’t wait for it!”

.......................................................................................

As soon as I got home, I opened the front door and felt a forceful tug on my right arm

“Ouch, Seth what the fuck?” I asked

The only reply I received was being tossed on his shoulder as he ran to his bedroom.

From the couch, Roman just stared at us until our figures disappeared up the stairs.

Seth loudly shut his bedroom door, soon after saying “Take your clothes off, now!” He quickly set up his phone upon the night stand and he took the lube bottle out of his bedside table

I gave him a questioning look and he said

“I’m about to fucking explode! I really cannot endure foreplay. Not right now!”

Seth squirted some lube on his length and rubbed his cock all over my folds, making me moan loudly.

Soon after, we heard the front door open and close forcefully.

“Uh, somebody must be having a bad day” Seth laughed, amused

I slapped his shoulder lightly “Don’t talk about him like that”

Seth’s eyes grew dark and suddenly I had one hand around my neck, choking me hard and another hand rubbing my clit in fast circles.

“Since when do you hit me like that? Have you forgot who’s in charge, princess? Does papa have to remind you about that?”

I can feel my eyes closing from both pleasure and pain, and my mind going numb from the choking.

Seth quickly loosened the pressure around my neck and lightly slapped my face

“No no no, you’re not gonna pass out on me now, are you?” He laughed deviously “I love when you get like that, speechless...whenever that happens, you become my favorite play toy! Just laying there, all pretty and quiet, just waiting for me to fuck you...use you as I like” Seth bit my cheek “Don’t you like being used, baby?” He asked, staring at me

“Yes, I love it” I panted

“Of course you love it!” Seth licked from my chin to my lips “You love it because, you’re my filthy little whore” He chuckled and quickly began to fuck me until I was screaming uncontrollably

……………………………………………………..

It is the next day and I’m leaving the main building on campus when I heard someone honk, and then call for me. I turned around to find Roman

“Hi, baby girl” He smiled widely

I leaned on the driver’s window to give him a kiss

“What are you doing here?” I asked, surprised

“Well, I just left the gym and I remembered that you leave college earlier on friday’s so I came to pick you up” Roman winked

“Are you leaving already?” He asked

“Yep!” I answered, giving him my books and backpack so he could toss it on the back seat, while I made my way to the passenger’s seat

“Why didn’t you let me know you were coming? I could have waited for you in the front building”

“Nah, it’s ok. I didn’t take that long to find you” He cackled “And also because I wanted to surprise you” Roman took my hand in his, intertwining our fingers and placing a soft kiss on the back of my hand

“Well, I’m happy you came to pick me up” I leaned forward and placed a kiss on the side of his full lips

“C’mon, really? We haven’t been together in two days and that’s all I get? An ‘I’m a virgin, please be gentle’ kiss?” He laughed

“What?” I played dumb

“Baby...c’mon, show your man some love, will you?” Roman placed one big hand on my thigh and squeezed

“Ro, you’re driving. We can’t do that!” I pretended to be in shock with his request

“You really gonna make me stop the car and fuck you in the middle of the street? Because you know I will!”

“Of course you wouldn’t!” I teased, knowing that would make him park the car and fuck me senseless.

Roman quickly pulled over, next to an alley and turned the car off. Unbuckling his seatbelt, Roman said

“Take off your panties and straddle my lap” He pulled his half hard cock out of his pants, licked his palm and began to stroke it to complete hardness.

Just the sight of his rock hard member was enough to make me damp. I straddled his lap and Roman teased me with the tip of his cock, rubbing up and down my folds, from my clit to my entrance.

“Daddy, please” I begged

“What do you want, baby girl? Tell daddy”

“I want you to fuck me, please...Please fuck me good like only you can do” I pleaded

Roman finally stopped teasing me after my last plea, and entered my core.

“Fuck daddy...so deep” I gasped

He grabbed me by my hair, pulling me forcefully to him. Kissing my lips like his life depended on it

“You like me buried deep inside of you, don’t you baby?” Roman panted

“I love it! I love it so fucking much” I moaned

Romans thrusts were vigorous and merciless. Even though we didn’t had that much space in the car, he still managed to find the perfect angle to make me feel dizzy.

“Fuck, look at that” He pulled the front of my dress up, so he could see his dick going in and out of me “Look how well you take me, baby. How you take every fucking inch...You’re so fucking perfect” Roman said, pulling my face to his and kissing my lips, while he grabbed two fistfuls of my hair, to keep me in place….

…………………………………………………………………………

Saturday’s night are always low for the three of us, not much to do unless we decided to chill on the couch and watch some tv. But since finals are coming, I was finishing one of my reports in my room when I heard the beginning of an argument coming faintly from the living room.

I rolled my eyes before making my way downstairs, to see what the problem was this time, which happened to be the fourth time today I had to settle an argument between the boys.

“What the hell? Can’t you two stop fighting for one goddamn second?” I screamed

“He started it” They said at the same time

*I swear, it’s like living with children* I thought to myself

“What is it?” I asked, briefly

“He ate my greek yogurt” Roman said

“I was hungry! And I didn’t see your name on it, pal” Seth answered

“I’m the only one in this house who eats the fucking yogurt!” Roman yelled

“Well, I was in the mood to eat it and so I did! As far as I remember, the food is for everybody who lives here, isn’t it?” Seth asked, placing his hands on his hips

“But the yogurt was mine!” Roman roared

“Enough!” I screamed “Shut the fuck up the both of you, now!” I tugged at my hair in exasperation

They stared at me speechless and I used that moment to let my anger flow

“I can’t believe that two grown ass men in their thirties are fighting over yogurt! You have got to be kidding me! I can’t understand how me, in my 21 years old, have to intervene in your stupid and pointless baby level of immaturity fights! I’m tired of being the only adult in this fucking house and as far as I’m concerned, you two can literally kill each other from now on, because I DON’T GIVE A DAMN ANYMORE!” I yelled and returned to my bedroom.

One hour later, I heard a knock on my bedroom door, but decided to ignore it.

The knocking persisted, until I yelled

“What?”

“Can we come in?” Seth asked

“No!” I answered

“C’mon baby girl, please? We just want to apologize to you, that’s all” Roman said

“Yeah? What for? Just so you can begin fighting again 30 minutes from now?” I spat

“Babe, please hear us out? We’re begging you” Seth said

I opened my bedroom door and found them standing there, with matching guilty looks on their faces

“Fine, but if you start arguing again-“

“We won’t” Both responded in unison

I made my way to my bed and they both entered the room.

“Talk” I said, when I sat at the edge of my the bed

“We would like to apologize to you, for all the bickering and fighting” Seth said

“Yeah, we realized that it senseless and uncalled for” Roman began

“And stupid, childish, annoying, ridiculous” I interrupted him

“True, it’s just that, we ended up getting caught up in the stress of everything, letting the pent up anger out on each other, and didn’t even realized how much stress we caused you by acting like we did” Seth said, coming closer to the bed and sitting by my side “Do you forgive me?” He whispered

I sighed heavily “Yes, I do, bubba” I pecked his lips

“And what about me?” Roman asked, now also sitting by my side

“Of course I forgive you too, handsome” I also pecked his lips

“Would you let us make it up to you?” Seth whispered in my ear

“Yes”

I gasped when Seth’s lips began to kiss my neck, while Roman quickly grabbed the hem of my oversized t-shirt and pulled up, revealing my naked body underneath it. Wasting no time, Roman sucked one nipple into his mouth as Seth turned my head towards him, so he could kiss my lips.

I moaned softly when Seth’s fingers began to rub my clit and Roman’s lips took over kissing me passionately.

“You like this, don’t you babe? You’re so fucking wet” Seth moaned, dipping two fingers in me

“What do you need, baby?” Roman asked as Seth’s fingers moved at a frantic pace

“I need your mouth on me, daddy. As papa’s fingers fuck me” I said, making Roman smirk

He leaned down and began to suck my clit as Seth finger fucked me.

It didn’t take me long to reach my orgasm, cumming hard.

“Who do you want where, baby girl?” Roman briefly asked

“I want you on my pussy first” I answered

Roman positioned himself on my entrance as Seth stood behind me, with the lube on his hand

Roman buried himself deeply and waited for Seth to enter my puckered hole before they began to thrust, finding a rhythm that could be pleasurable for the three of us.

“Oh, just like that” I moaned when they found the perfect pace

“Hmmm, baby you’re even tighter” Roman moaned “Do you like when Seth fucks your ass while I fuck your pussy, baby?” He asked

“Oh yes, I fucking love it! I feel so fucking full!” I panted

“You love being full with dick, right baby?” Seth whispered softly

“So fucking much!” I giggled

“You ready to switch?” Roman asked Seth

“Fuck yeah!” Was his answer

They switched and I felt even fuller. With Roman now in my ass and being thicker than Seth, he pushed my walls tighter, making it difficult for Seth to enter me

“Fuck, fuck, fuck I’m gonna cum” Seth moaned loudly once he finally entered me

“Don’t you fucking dare” I screamed, moaning

Roman began to move and so did Seth. The feeling was so good, I was literally drooling all over myself

“Fuck babe, you’re drooling. You look so fucking hot!” Seth said in awe

“Are you drooling because it feels so good, baby girl?” Roman asked

“Yes, daddy” I squealed

“Roman, she’s gonna cum...fuck, she’s so tight” Seth said as he began to cum, triggering my own release

Roman quickly pulled out and came on my ass, moaning and panting

The three of us crashed into the mattress, giggling and sighing.

“This was fun” Roman said

“Yeah, it was really hot” Seth laughed

“Would you like to do that again?” I smirked

“Fuck yeah!” They answered

As one bearded face moved to my breasts and the other one roamed down to my...

Please if you’re comfortable with it, let me know your thoughts on this? Feedbacks are always appreciated 🥰😘

[oskarwing]

I really wanna talk about the parent child relationships in Midnight Mass

I’m not sure if I’m good at writing this sorta Meta but here goes nothing. Very many spoilers follow.

Let’s start with the adults: 

First we have Erin who suffered so much at the hands of her mother and later because of her mother’s abuse. We don’t get much detailed info on Peggy Greene but from what we can gather she was a lot like Beverly Keane, who seemed to idolize her (though that probably got easier for her after Peggy was gone), in her self-righteous over-pious manner. She just happened to be Beverly with an alcohol problem and a daughter who she could take all her anger at life for not working out her way for God loving her just the same as everybody else out. The dove scene is really such a good scene. But Erin was stronger than her mother, stronger than the abuse that was about to repeat itself and when she found out that she would have a child of her own she left and tried her best to give her kid a better life than the one she had. And she found the strength I think with the help of the same God her mother most likely used as legitimation for her abuse (don’t get me wrong I believe it was Erin’s own strength but she also clearly found something in religion that helped her gather it) and it helped her to carve out a path for herself and her unborn child.  

Sarah’s relationship to her parents is such an interesting one because we get to see the end of it. The man who she believed to be her father has been dead for a long while and her mother is suffering through the late stages of dementia. And Sarah showed up for it. As a doctor she most likely knew what would be happening as soon as Mildred started to show the first symptombs but she wasn’t going to leave her mother. That kind of care for an elderly parent shows something that is proven in Mildred’s character time and time again: She is a very devoted parent and the love between mother and daughter flows both ways in every scene they are in together, after the birth of her daughter her world turned around Sarah and she loved her with all she had. There are a few scenes that show that Mildred’s understanding of the duty she felt towards her family came from the old values of her time. She wouldn’t have taken off with John and their child not for a lack of love but because in those times, in catholism still at least where I’m from, you can’t just marry a priest. You can’t just have a child with a priest eventhough you’re married and then fuck off with him. As a woman, as a wife and mother you have to stand with your husband, stand with your child and you have to stop running after fantasies I’m sure Mildred had. I’m saying this all from her perspective btw, I don’t necessarily think running away with John, in the way he wished to, would have been good for Sarah but honesty might have been and her old fashioned values were also what kept her from being truly honest with her daughter.  To John on the other hand Sarah is a fantasy, a dream he couldn’t reach. His daughter, his baby, so close and yet so far away getting to watch her grow into an adult but never being able to really be her father as in her Dad instead of her priest. And it’s painful to him, he clearly loved Mildred, loved Sarah but he was also kinda selfish in his love that in the end took Sarah away. At first he isolated his child by starring at her giving her the creeps and the feeling that she had done something wrong that he knew she was gay and dissaproved and then he took it upon himself to ‘cure’ Mildred in the same way he was. Sarah wanted to take care of her mother wanted to be there for her in those final months and John decided it was up to him to give Mildred a youth potion to make it so she’d never die. And with that he took away from Sarah what is without doubt a hard but for many people a very important last part of the relationship between child and parent. John was a complicated man and would maybe have been a great Dad he certainly showed a lot of fatherly love for his altar boys but he couldn’t have the family in the way he fantasized about and in the end it was that fantasy that made him act the way he did.   

Riley Flynn causes his parents a lot of pain. Him killing that girl in the beginning, his alcoholism, him simply not liking the place, the home they build for themselves through hard work causes the Annie and Ed so much pain and financial loss and you can see how tired they are, how much guilt they feel for failing their son. Ed calls out his own guilt and says that he doesn’t belive it could be Annie’s fault because ‘your mother’s a saint’ but what I truly love about Annie and Ed Flynn is that they both aren’t saints. As a mother Annie is very much overprotective and suffocating, wanting to keep her children on crocket island and hating the notion that they might leave her, even though she is kind and sweet and loving. And while Ed seems rather checked out as a father but he is the more honest parent, never talking down to Riley and telling him as it is, telling him about the pain he caused him while also admitting to the guilt he feels. The Flynns are flawed people even in their religious practice (I think the way Annie speaks about Ali showing up at church when Hassan seemed to be nothing but nice to her spoke very loudly to the fact that Annie is rather misguided sometimes) but they are good people at the core of it and their parenting might have been part of Riley’s way into alcoholism but it wasn’t only them. There were things they couldn’t change and things they had no influence over like his heart being broken by Erin running away, the sort of people he went out on parties with and so many other things...  Yes, they may have shaped their son in a way that made him vulnerable to addiction and the party scene of the stock and tech market and brought him to the point where he killed a child but it doesn’t happen through parenting alone and they also shaped him in the good ways. Him not losing himself when Pruitt changes him, him being brave enough to warn Erin, him standing up for what he believes in those things were also shaped by Ed and Annie. They are one of the best example of flawed but good hearted Christians I have seen in recent media and their portrayal was one of the most heartbreaking ones. 

Now the kids: 

Let’s start with Leeza. Little Leeza Scarborough who before it comes to her wonder gets treated with pity and overprotectiveness from her parents and the island community at large. Leeza was injured by Joe Collie transforming him into the island’s villain and her into the ever present victim.  What happened to her is without a doubt horrible and I understand why Wade and Dolly started to become these overprotective parents, why they were so easily sucked in to John’s and Bev’s scheme. Their little girl was almost taken from them eventhough Wade is the mayor, one of the most powerful people on the island he had no influence over what happened to Leeza even was the one who took her out that day and what followed the accident was as we can gather from their conversation with Sarah a lot of pain and financial burden though they say they would have done it all over for Leeza. In fact a lot of places in crockett island are wheelchair accesible and I am sure that Wade as mayor made it so (I can’t really imagine that a small place like the island was very inclusive though I may be wrong).  After Leeza is healed they don’t want to question in don’t want to think about what might have been the cause for it. In fact they stop questioning anything after that point, after Leeza walks again they are completely vulnerable to Bev’s manipulation and them letting that happen, them just going along with everything, Wade protecting John after he kills Joe long after Leeza forgave him and with her forgiveness send Joe on a better path is what in the end makes them lose her. Because Leeza isn’t that little victim who needs pity and help, she is a strong minded, strong willed young woman with a lot of wit who similar to Erin finds strength in her faith but in a way that isn’t devotion without question and when the Easter vigil is held she doesn’t follow her parents eventhough she loves them deeply. She forgives them I think, because that’s what Leeza’s character is about in it’s core but her parents were two of the instigators behind what happened on the island, without Wade’s protection John and Bev couldn’t have come as far as they did and they put their trust in them because they loved their daughter so much they didn’t stop to question if maybe what made Leeza walk again was also a bad thing. 

Ali and Hassan don’t have it easy and I as a white person really can’t speak much on the racism and religious discrimination they face.  I can say this I think: The first line spoken about Ali before we even really get to look at him is “You didn’t invite Aladin” and already sets us up for what both of them know: They are the outsiders. Not only because they just moved to the island but also because in their faith they are different from their peers and religion can often be a community building event for people before it is anything else. Ali starts balming his father a little for that, for not trying to fit in more with the community, for moving after his mother���s death and then not trying to be closer to the people around them and for the pain all the pain the two of them went through before Crockett island. It isn’t oly peer pressure though of course that brings Ali to St Patrick’s. Sure, Ali wanted to be part of the community but also desperately wanted to believe that there was a devine power who could if he just did it (it meaning faith) the right way he might find a way to avoid the pain of his parents. Hassan knew that and he warned him that that wasn’t how it worked. Hassan was a protective Dad and maybe he overdid it from time to time but his worries were never without reason, his need to keep his son safe from a world that hated him for a crime that happened when he wasn’t even born yet never unfounded and him wanting to make sure his kid kept the memory of his mother alive never anything but the wish of a griefing man and loving father. In the end when they pray together there is peace in them. They face their ends with the dignity Ali’s mother would have wished for and they face it as father and son. While Beverly the true religious terrorist of the story burns away without it. 

Warren is the youngest Flynn and it is never directly stated yet omnipresent that his coming of age happens in the shadow of his older brother’s mistake.  Annie warns him away from drinking when he goes out he in fact doesn’t drink. He never drinks because of what his brother did.  Warren would have been 12 when Riley killed that girl and so he would have seen and felt what his brother’s actions did to his parents fully without being yet old enough to maybe see the nuance.  Annie and Ed probably try to right the wrong they believe to have done in parenting Riley with Warren and that’s a lot for a kid. I do think it’s pretty usual that parents of multiple children especially when there’s a larger age gap try to do better with the younger children, but that isn’t fair is it?  Warren is his own person not a second chance to do it over.  And yet seemingly he does what is asked of him. He’s alter boy, he’s charming and helpful and sweet, he doesn’t drink (even when he does smoke pot) and he helps his father where he can with his work.  But in the end he feels guilty because he thinks he wasn’t enough and says at that last dinner he would have been different if he had known he wouldn’t see his family again. But Leeza is right they know and they love him and Warren deserved to not be perfect all the time. 

Littlefoot saved Erin and Erin payed her back with all the love she had. She was never born but she gave her mother the strength and willpower to leave.  In her speech to Joe Leeza said he reached through time and took things from her she didn’t even know she had yet.When Erin left her husband she reached through time and saved Littlefoot from a childhood like hers and when John gave Erin the angel’s vampire’s blood he reached through time and took away her child, a child who would have been loved and cared for. A child with an amazing mother and probably a great step-dad.  Littlefoot’s story is tragic because she never got one. 

[kyberphilosopher]

Dᴏꜱᴄᴇɴᴅᴏ Dɪꜱᴄɪᴍᴜꜱ

The reader tries to paint the Colossal Titan from memory, and Bertholdt seems to know more than most people. 

Requested: no.

Word Count: 2092

Docendo Discimus is a Latin proverb meaning "by teaching, we learn." It is perhaps derived from Seneca the Younger, who says in his Letters to Lucilius: Homines dum docent discunt., meaning "Men learn when they teach”.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

The human body is home to somewhere between six hundred and eight hundred muscles. There are two hundred and six bones, seventy-eight organs, one hundred thousand miles of veins, and roughly ten pints of blood. Every individual cell has a purpose, important and needed for the body to continue to function. 

Assuming the anatomy of a titan was the same to that of the average person’s, the Colossal Titan should be easier to render than this. You’d sketched the face of muscle and teeth over a hundred times by this point, and each one of them seemed to draw further away from realism than you liked. 

Sure, it was arguable that the Colossal just didn’t have the same anatomy in his face as the average human. But then there should’ve been more factors in his face that shouldn’t have worked. 

For example, the monster didn’t possess a muscle called the orbicularis. You could remember that specifically from the time you and your fellow cadets had gotten a bit too close for comfort. But based on the lack of orbicularis, he shouldn’t have been able to blink. And yet, he had. There was also a strange muscle in his temporal region with horizontal fibers, that couldn’t have simply been his temporal. It doesn't seem to have any particular function, either. 

God damn it. It’s appearance should’ve been the one thing about this bastard to make sense, but instead it had confused you just as much as the rest of it. Never mind how smart you were. If you couldn’t solve this simple turned complex mystery, why hold out hope for studying anatomy when the world would return to normalcy?

In your frustration, you slam the paintbrush back into your cup of water. A stain of red clouds erupts in the liquid at once, angry from how direct the solid hits the surface. In front of you, the canvas shines with the new layer of red paint. Beside it is a coat of salmon, also fresh and lined with the titan’s muscles. 

“So stupid,” you hiss, half to yourself. You grab your cadet corps jacket, shrugging it on swiftly before crossing your arms and stepping back. 

It was supposed to be a gift for Eren. He knew you were something of a painter and had once jokingly asked you to make a dart board for him. The moment you conceived this idea, you knew it had to be a stroke of genius. But you wanted to get it right, and for that, the artist and realist inside of you seemed to be punished for it.

Was it something with the eyes? No, it was definitely the anatomy of the titan overall. “For fucks sake,” you wave off finally, turning on your heel to walk away for a while. But when you turn around, you’re face to chest with one so broad you nearly stumble back. 

The figure tenses up immediately. You tilt your head up to see who it is, recognizing the nervous, kaleidoscope eyes of your comrade. Bertholdt, you’re sure his name is. You haven’t talked too many times, but you’ve seen him in your circle of friends. There’s a memory in your brain of asking your bunkmate, Annie, about why Bertholdt would hang around someone so upstanding and obnoxious as Reiner, but you can’t recall her specific answer. 

“O-oh, Y/N!” Bertholdt nearly wheezes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stand so close.”

“It’s fine,” you mutter, rubbing the side of your head as you step away. “What are you doing here?”

Yes, what was he doing here? A little closeted off room by the girl barracks? And aside from that, how does someone as tall as he even sneak his way inside? It’s suspicious, to say the least. 

“I was just-” Bertholdt stares down at you, sweat already beginning to form on his face. Oh, goddess. How is he to get out of this one? If Reiner was with him, he could just lie his way out of it. But now, looking down at your apathetic, borderline tired, frustrated face, he knows he’s never had much luck with girls. Especially not pretty girls like you. 

His gaze shifts to behind you. There, on a perfectly square parchment of thick paper, is a rough sketch of a long face without any skin. It seems to be all muscle, labeled and detailed. Half the sheet is colored in with pinks, browns, and scarlets, with the other half marked with insane little scribbled patterns that remind him of words. 

You’re still waiting for an answer. He sees your steady, patient eyes and your balled fists by your hips, and Bertholdt wonders if you already know. “I saw you bring in those cans of paint, and I guess I got curious.”

“Oh,” you reply flatly. “Yeah. That.”

“It’s um...” Compliment her. Compliment her painting. “It’s a nice painting. What’s it supposed to be of?”

“The Colossal Titan,” you tell him as you rub the back of your neck. Then you turn on your side so you can view your art, immediately narrowing your eyes in disgust at it. “It’s not my best.”

Bertholdt’s words come out a bit louder than he intended. “Actually, I think it’s really, really great, Y/N!”

You turn back to meet Bertholdt’s nervous, almost quivering eyes. You certainly wouldn’t call yourself an expert on the male gender, but this tall bastard was exactly the stereotype of someone who wasn’t an expert on the female gender. It was almost funny. No, it was almost ironic. 

“I just mean that... it’s really good. It’s easy to see that you have heaps of talent,” the brunette reiterates, seemingly calmer this time.

What a nice thing to say to someone. 

“That’s not really my point though,” you borderline sigh. “The point is that no matter what I seem to do to him, it doesn’t seem realistic does it?”

“What do you mean by that?” Bertholdt questions, his eyebrows furrowing. That’s right, he wouldn’t be able to squint without his orbicularis. Something your art model was currently lacking. 

Do you even bother to explain it to him? It’s not like either of you are close, or like he’d exactly understand what you were saying to him anyway. But where was the harm, really?

You walk back towards the parchment, with Bertholdt just a few steps behind. 

“See this area?” you ask, gesturing to the Colossal Titan’s eye area. “There's a muscle here that’s supposed to let people close their eyes. But the colossal titan doesn’t have that.”

“W-why is that?”

You shrug. “Damned if I know. But doesn’t it look wrong on him?”

Bertholdt observes the painting. He sees all the details, all the time you’ve put into it. While you are right about the image and the titan’s strange features, it’s now that Bertholdt realizes just how intelligent you really are. Unlike other people, you actually knew things. If he were an enemy, he might be starting to feel threatened right about now. Ironic indeed. 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” the boy says shyly. “Why does it have to be perfect, though?”

Good question. 

“No real reason,” you tell him, trying to hide the hint of smile. “I guess it’s just how it is. Eren is the one who asked for this.”

“O-oh... you mean like a...”

Your eyes flit back to Bertholdt. “Like a what?”

Bertholdt can feel the sullen wave of anxiety wash over him. He hadn’t meant to let the stray thoughts fall from his lips, but now he can’t take it back. Now what does he say? “I just mean, is it a gift or something like that?”

“Sure.”

Were you and Eren...?

“I might be able to help you with it,” Bertholdt stutters, again, louder than he’d intended. He’s lucky at least one of you is level headed during this interaction. 

“How so? Do you paint?” 

“No, but I think I might know some things about the Colossal that you don’t,” Bertholdt offers. His right arm reaches behind to rub at his sweaty neck. In that instant, you can see that the boy has an almost identical structure to that of your subject. You’d have to note that the tall boy would make a brilliant model for something like this.

“Like what?” you question. “Could you give me some feedback on my piece then?”

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were going to find out. 

Bertholdt pretends to be in deep thought for a minute, knitting his dark eyebrows together. His green, blue eyes sweep over the picture, watching the slick settle. “Well, you’re right about the muscle around the eye. I’d take that out, but maybe place the shadow of it?”

“The shadow?”

“The outline. And maybe make his eyes more glossy than this. Titan’s have a second set of eyelids.”

You don’t have time to question him further. Bertholdt continues the onslaught of information. 

“I think you should also make some of these areas here a bit lighter,” he says, pointing to the side of the Colossal’s face. “From the steam and the high body temperature, it would get a bit smoky.”

“Yeah,” you begin slowly, watching the shine in Bertholdt’s previously nervous eyes. “I hadn’t considered that.”

The lanky male in front of you lets his lips curl into a sheepish smile, closing his eyes as his fingers thread themselves between his hair. “I doubt most people do, so you’re not really in the wrong.”

“How do you know so much?” you ask. “You’ve been quiet with everyone up until now. Do the higher ups even know all this?”

“I mean, they’d have to right? I guess I just took a lot of notes in class.”

You hadn’t remembered your professor mentioning most of these things during your Titan Studies period. But maybe it wasn’t really worth questioning him over. Maybe Bertholdt was just more observant than you had ever really considered. It wouldn’t have been the first time. 

Your eyes are fixated on him. Bertholdt was kind of cute, actually. His eyes are both big and slim, with pale green orbs. His skin was always a bit illuminated with a nervous sweat, and he was incredibly mild mannered. But maybe that was actually a good thing compared to all the boys in camp who seemed to lack any conception of manners. Pouty, chapped lips, a gentle smile, messy dark hair. He seems like someone reliable. Kind. Trustworthy.

“Yeah,” you say again, breaking eye contact. “So, are there any other suggestions you have for me?”

Bertholdt is still for a moment, thinking it over. “No, other than don’t think so hard about it, probably.”

“You two sort of have a similar face,” you say, staring at the muscled beast you’d attempted to replicate. “Maybe you should pose for me sometime.”

Bertholdt tenses. 

“I’m only joking,” you assure. Bertholdt’s broad shoulders fall as he relaxes, and a soft exhale leaves from between his lips. “But I would like it if you’d let me model after you.”

“Me?” Bertholdt stutters, shocked. “You mean you’d want to really paint me?”

“‘Course,” you say, nonchalant as always. “You’ve got one of those faces.”

Bertholdt smiles naturally. Soft, but noticeable. You return it after a few seconds, feeling your previous frustration and anger at the piece begin to wander away. 

“I should get back to work,” you say as you turn around. Bertholdt watches you unclip the parchment from your sturdy easel, place it on the stone floor, and grab another paper from a pile. 

“Y-you’re starting again?”

“Of course,” you say. Your dominant hand laces around a piece of charcoal, preparing to drag it across the page. In one swift and scratchy motion, an onyx line appears at the top of the paper. 

Bertholdt’s cheeks dust pink from behind you. He’s about to offer if you want him to pose for you so you can memorize what’s underneath his shy skin, but he stays quiet. Instead, Bertholdt is happy that he even got to speak to you in the first place. He wanders out of the room with butterflies in his stomach, and guilt in his heart. 

And you, with your eyes narrow, basing the monster that ruined your life off the boy who had just helped you. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

I didn’t proof read this. I feel like I’ve just been cranking stuff out lately. someone remind me to go back and edit thank you

[b0rista]

— ❝︎ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎 𝐈𝐍 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍! 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐀𝐔. ·˚ ༘

♡︎ : the atmosphere i'm going for is frustratingly difficult to describe djjfjg the word "somber" doesn't really do it for me, but it's pretty much these emojis 🌑🌨🎞💸🚬⛓🔭

lowkey just wanted to put this trio & y/n (aka the loml) in a really dark, gloomy, modern metropolis type of place full of cold weather, inner monologues, and cigarettes JFKGK

ALSO my insp was the reiner + annie fanart in the center of the divider i made!! i really wish i knew the artist, but i couldn't find them :(( definitely NOT taking credit, it isn't my art whatsoever. but LOOK AT THEM UGH THE AESTHETIC

to balance things out, i wrote the reader as female! && characters are aged up to their early twenties.

the bunch of you met through your college courses— of course, the three of them had known one another since childhood, but you managed to weasel your way into their close-knit friend group. ever since then, you all share the melancholy city life.

during your guys' campus days, reiner worked for his master's in kinesiology. it isn't that big of a shocker that he aimed for something that pertained to his bulkier build,, mans grows up to be an absolute unit, lmao. wanting to maintain an above average salary, he used his education to earn himself a place in the certified training department. currently, he's a personal trainer of many clients, all of which he does his best to maintain.

bertholdt majored in philosophy, and worked toward his master's degree. with his intelligence, he got it. while all three of you (reiner especially), urged him to pursue non-profit professionalism, praising his skill and all around ability to do so, he lacked the confidence to push for it, and ended up going down another path. currently, he's sticking to the safe road, aiming to become a professor in the very course he excelled in. he's yet to get there, though— right now, he's a professor's assistant. it's less tiring, at least. still, he was capable of becoming something better.

as for annie, she majored in political science. unlike the other two, she worked to obtain a bachelor's degree. with that being said, she attended college for a little longer. eventually, she got her degree, and while she was a little lost after graduation, she made her way into the policy analyst game. she had the writing skills, sOmewhat of the drive, and while she's the youngest worker in her office, she's also the brightest. they're all also terrified of her, she speaks .6 words a day.

of course, what you did is entirely up to you! if you took two or three years to get your degree, you likely graduated alongside the boys. if it took longer, no worries, annie's degree took quite a bit.

now, the four of you are living in the same city, and you're all experiencing that said city's constant mournful, dingy atmosphere. the aesthetic is calming, actually; the weather is never nice, it's a rarity that you ever get an actual glimpse of the sun. no matter the season, so long as it isn't summertime, layers are a must. rainfall is a weekly occurrence, as well as the occasional thunderstorm. the merged stench of coffee grounds and burnt oil linger within the streets of the city, simply adding to the melancholy. basically, the general scenery is dark, cold, wet, and quiet. it's a gloomy place,, definitely comparable to forks, washington, but more of a metropolis than a town.

even with all of that being said, you and your friends have a good time. honestly, if you didn't all have eachother, you'd all probably go mental.

while reiner and bertholdt have their own seperate apartments, you and annie share a place. the rent was cheap, especially once split between two homeowners. two bedrooms, one bathroom, and a single kitchen & living area. it was too good of a deal to pass up. fortunately, you and her are compatible roomates.

with that being said, of course, it's often that the four lounge around at your guys' apartment. bertholdt always makes sure to check in before visiting, while reiner has the sour habit of showing up unannounced. you've both had to deny him a key, despite his pleading. you love him, but not that much.

sometimes, the two of them crash in your living room. typically, it's reiner on the couch while bertholdt takes up the floor, waking up the next morning in whatever flamboyant position he'd folded himself into during the night. every now and then, you and annie forget to head back to your rooms, and you crash right there with them. before you all fall asleep, you're typically all huddled up near the glass doored balcony, allowing the rainfall to serenade the four of you into a deep slumber whilst sitting within the crisp remnants of cigarette smoke and freshly opened liquor.

in a way, it's funny, because you all have a tendency to do that on a work night. just the four of you, sitting in your living room, drinking your alcohol, coating your furniture in the brisk stench of pure, solicited nicotine, watching your very own city drown within the darkening sky's tears as little to zero words are even spoken. when it comes to you and your friends, that's something that can never be contradicted; the quiet. these were how you spent your evenings together, especially after a rough day— silence, smoking, and the most peaceful sorrow imaginable.

of course, when you aren't wallowing in your own self pity, you're known to get drinks together. there's this certain booth in a local pub, it had burnt burgundy seats made out of leather. it's your guys' booth, and whenever you go out for a drink or two, that's where you sit. it's way back in the corner, where none of you can be bothered. one time, a couple of rascals had stolen it, and they refused to move. without a second thought, annie slammed one of those motherfucker's faces into the table. in suite, reiner took care of the other one, yanking him from the collar and kicking him to the floor. you and bertholdt only watched,, you were laughing, poor bert simply dragGed his palm down his face.

hey, at least you got your seats back! absentmindedly, you etched your initials into the bottom of the table with your pen. without a thought, the other three did the same, marking the corner as their own. don't fuck with that table, you'll be slaughtered.

when winter hits, it hits mercilessly. it's insanely aesthetic, seeing your group standing on the side of the busy street, all absolutely layered up in buttoned up winter coats and thickly knitted scarves. because they're both unnecessarily large, you depend on them for warmth every now and then. the amount of times you've buried your face within reiner's side while sitting on the subway during the midst of wintertime is stupid. as for bertholdt, he occasionally takes off his very own coat, draping it over you or annie's shoulders whenever either of you are seen shivering. he doesn't mind getting a cold, so long as you're warm.

speaking of the subway, your city has one. it's a pretty average way to travel, and due to none of you actually owning your own vehicles, it's where you go whenever walking or taking the bus isn't an option. the only one who isn't allowed to ride the subway alone is you. there was instance where on your way home from work, you had a run-in with an unpleasant bystander with the means to hurt you. ever since then, a code has been set where if you want to travel underground, you do it with one of them.

^ one time, you didn't listen, and you went by yourself anyway— unfortunately for you, reiner was boarding the exact same stop as you, and gave you quite the scolding. however, it's only because you're special to him. to all of them.

you and annie are actually closer than you'd imagine. being one of the only female friends she's ever been able to keep, you've grown to be an important figure in her life. of course, she'd never admit that to you, but you know. some nights, the two of you lean against one another on the sofa while black & white reruns play on the television, ultimately sending you both to sleep.

once a week, you have lunch with bertholdt at the university he assists at. you know just how glum the work makes him, and fortunately, you showing up every single sunday with coffee and sandwiches never fails to brighten his day. sometimes, you're the only one that can get him through the week.

bert's crush on annie is still very much a thing, even in this universe. of course, he's older, and for the most part, he's grown out of it. still, he stares. not as much as he once did, but he does. you and reiner only watch from afar, quietly sullen that he'd never quite gotten the guts to act on it.

bertholdt is also the group's umbrella holder. it's constantly raining, and due to his height, he's the one holding the bigass umbrella over the four of your guys' heads. when there isn't an umbrella, you just sort of seek refuse underneath his arms, which he gladly gives you. reiner and annie don't really mind, they get wet. it is a thing where you're all rushing to get out of the rain, the two men shielding the women's hair from the storm with their jackets as they run for shelter.

you all smoke. well, actually, whether or not you smoke cigarettes in this scenario is entirely up to you. if you'd like, ignore this part. anyway, cigarette sharing is a given. while reiner's preferred brand of darts is far more lucrative and more likely to kill him (he's dead inside, it fits), he won't hesitate to snatch a cigarette from in between the tips of your lips, bringing them to his own. it's something all of you do, even bertholdt. sharing is caring, you all say. you tend to do the same thing with wine glasses, or beer bottles.

it's practically gotham city, you're all dead inside grownups, god isn't real.

irllydidn'tlikehowthisturnedout-

[theglowyscorpio]

all set | eren x reader

a/n: this is a story in the making, currently available at AO3 and Wattpad. If you like it, please don't hesitate to give me some kudos, leave a comment or maybe follow me on my social media! <3 Any feedback is highly appreciated since I'm just getting started!

pairing: eren yeager x female reader

tags: mature content, alternate universe (modern setting), college/university, recreational drug use, implied sexual content, M/F, F/F, the author is not religious lmao

word count: 4.3k

current chapters: 2/?

playlist: this one was made with a particular playlist in mind. they are really great songs that help to convey this chapter, so I hope you have a time to check them out! :)

a. slomosa - kevin b. upsahl - drugs c. rosenfeld - like u d. kaiba - overdose e. lil kapow - tinman f. bodega - how did this happen!?

***

all set

I lost count of how many parties I went to this week. There was one at Shina, another at... Sasha's. Wait, was it? Or Ymir's? Honestly, both their houses look fairly similar and we always see the same faces over and over again, regardless of where we are getting wasted. Definitely two at my house. The timeline is blurry at this point. If my liver could talk, it would spit out "Screw you, Eren." and I wouldn't be able to disagree.

Classes will start next week so everyone is acting like we're going to stop doing all this for the rest of the semester. That never happens.

I barely enter Reiner's house and the music is already piercing my head. My ears will soon tell me to go screw myself too. The bass was loud. But it was good.

— Hey, finally — Reiner says, giving a hard slap in my back. I can't even get mad at him because he probably didn't mean for it to hurt. Fucking strong bastard.

— Sorry. Lost track of time.

— You know where the things are — he leaves me behind and disappears through the noisy music.

It's hot inside. August has been particularly cruel this year. I'm using a black t-shirt, which is luckily pretty thin, and my black Adidas pants that are somewhat breathable. My hair is in a bun. I will probably be sweating soon, though. Reiner's AC won't do miracles with this amount of people since it is specially packed today. I guess I might see some new faces tonight, huh.

This fact already makes things more interesting.

I walk through the room and then arrive in the kitchen. Connie and Sasha are there.

— Eren!! — I barely open my mouth to talk and Sasha is already giving me whatever weird drink they made. Their drinks sometimes are... unusual, for the lack of a better word. Most of the time they are simply pure shit. They call it scout's fuel, always the same name regardless of what's inside. Maybe that's why my liver hates me so much.

— Thanks — I'm already used to the goddamn gasoline taste — I guess you both want to get us wasted tonight.

— It's our personal mission, so enjoy the fuel — Connie says laughing, raising his plastic cup. I love this duo – who doesn't? – and I can't help but laugh with them, even though it tastes so bad — Everyone is already here, come on — I follow them and find all the familiar faces I've seen all week: Bertholdt, Historia, Ymir, Mikasa, Annie, Armin, Jean, everyone.

The girls look hot, even though I'm used to them. Either way, I avoid hooking up with my friends since the last time didn't work so well. It's better to avoid Mikasa today.

We all sit together while drinking. I light a joint I had already prepared at home and say — Am I crazy or is Reiner's party bigger than usual? —, releasing the smoke a few seconds after. This one is the best grass we could get around our area, I've saved it primarily for today and now I see that might have been a great decision on my part. I'm glancing through the room and looking for some girls, might share this shit with one - or a few - of them later.

— Thank god, I was tired of seeing your ugly faces every fucking time — Jean says. The girls look at him and he rushes to add — I mean, the boys, of course. It's always nice looking at all of you, ladies.

It's not enough to avoid Annie's kick anyway — We can say the same of you, horse face.

Reiner arrives at the perfect time and explains — Since the new semester starts Monday, news about today traveled fast and we got a lot more company than usual.

— Do you know all of them, Reiner? — Historia asks — I've talked to a bunch of them tonight and there are people from all over the campus and from all years as well — Historia always looks pretty, her blonde hair shining even in the low light of the party. Guys make a line to talk to her at all parties so there's no surprise that she's already familiarized with the whole scenario. I wonder what Ymir thinks of it. Probably followed her during this little field trip.

— Hell, no — he grabs the joint of my hand and sucks deeply — I know some of them and some are Bertholdt's friends but there are some random people.

— I bet Reiner knows a lot of the girls — I take my joint back from his fingers — I assume they aren't Bertholdt's friends, though — and grin.

— Hey, I don't see you with any new company either, dude — Bertholdt tries to grab my weed as well, but I avoid his advances. He instead grabs my cup and drinks all of it, leaving me empty. He makes a funny face at the taste. Suit yourself, man, I think to myself, laughing on the inside.

— Yeah, but I'll work on it in a sec — I tease him knowing that he can't handle much of Sasha and Connie's fuel. He always knocks out before everyone. I hope he realizes he needs to stay awake to try anything with Annie. Someday. He simply never gets there.

Hange arrives almost falling over Ymir and spilling her drink on the floor in the process — I think we should all make a toast and make this last party a wild ride!!! — her yelling stabbing us louder than the music.

— Bitch, you are this fucking drunk already? — Ymir says to her, holding Hange's weight on her back — What the hell did the gasoline duo do to you?

— Okay okay, enough with the questions, let me fill your cups because this is the night! — Sasha says, just pouring all that mystery liquid that soon will go straight to our heads — Also, Reiner, where's the food?

We raise our plastic cups and Connie yells — To the new semester! — and we drink, feeling the immediate burn on our throats. It's hard being a scout.

— I need to get laid today — Jean says as he lays his back on the couch — Gonna arrive for the classes pretty motivated next week — he then rests his left arm at the back pillow, behind Mikasa's head.

— You should start roaming, then — her cold delivery puts Jean's subtle attempt at flirting six feet under the ground, as usual. It was pretty damn quick, but I could notice Mikasa glancing at me and then looking the other way. Yeah, I think I need to start roaming soon, too.

— That sounds great, then let's do that!!! — Hange grabs Jean by the arm and they disappear amongst the crowd.

— When all this fun ends, I'll be the one who will probably have to take him home after he gets slapped by some girls — Armin and Jean live with me so we normally go back together. Armin is the responsible one between us, which is not exactly hard considering how Jean and I are — Gonna at least drink some beer before that happens.

— I'll go with you, this drink sucks — Annie says, finishing the drink anyway and following him. We always drink the last drop of it, we never learn.

The girls went dancing, the music was exceptionally good today. A lot of bands I already liked plus some I have never heard before. I need to remember to ask Reiner for this playlist later. Connie was already surrounded by a different group, everyone likes to talk to him. He is popular. The rest dispersed as well and I could hear Hange's screams far away. This is going to be a night for her, indeed.

I start walking around, meeting a lot of people from my classes and others from the campus in general. I talk to all of them and drink a lot in the process, which feeds my need for nicotine every time. I grab my pack of cigarettes and while smoking, I see Levi.

— I must be dreaming — I say, letting the smoke leave my lips with a smile. It reaches him and looks at me with a deadly expression. He is smoking as well, but he only admits one specific brand of cigarettes and hates all the others. Levi usually doesn't show up at these "brat" parties, as he likes to say, since he's a few years older than us. I normally see him at Shina's, which is a popular club slash bar near our university. He's the owner so we all met him there, after going so many times. Shina has the best parties and the best drinks of all the clubs near us. And it couldn't be any other way, since Levi is a perfectionist. There's also a small stage there, where indie bands perform from time to time. My band does some gigs there sometimes.

— Hey — he replies, as cold as ever. He's Mikasa's cousin, so they have the same expressions and hard-to-approach vibe — Already high, I see.

— Always. In fact, today I hope to be higher than usual. What miracle brings you here?

— Some people from the staff decided to come here today so there are fewer brats to piss me off — he drinks what's probably a high priced whiskey and continues — and there's a new girl at the club so we have been showing her the area for a few weeks now.

— There's a lot of new girls here today — although I know Levi doesn't give a crap.

— So? — yeah, he doesn't.

Levi is a pretty successful business owner and even I have to admit that he's hot – is not only common knowledge but a mutual agreement between everyone –, so girls are always trying to get him, but he doesn't screw most of them. He doesn't fuck brats, period. He says he doesn't have the patience. That makes the girls even more desperate. He has the highest standards of every guy I know. When he was still in university – the same we all go –, he screwed not only the hottest girls but also the professors - which went after him and not the other way around. At least that's what I've heard. I think Levi never had to actively look for any girl, to be honest.

I can only laugh at his reply. That's just so him.

— If you want more stuff than what's already in your system, Floch is over there.

— I want, actually. I was going to look for him — I see Floch's red hair among some folks. Floch is usually as busy as Connie but with less than half of the charisma.

He finishes his cigarette, blowing its last white smoke into the air, and we both hear a loud HELL YEAH!! coming from all the other way across the room — Tsk, is that Hange?

— Pfft, it was before, I think it's Sasha now — he doesn't laugh at my reply. He never does. I think hell would freeze while heaven catches on fire.

I think about the music again. It's so good today, what the hell — Hey Levi, don't you think this playlist is too high quality for a Reiner party? I don't get it, his music taste is always pure trash.

— That's from our new girl — he drinks the last drops of his whiskey and starts to leave — You might find her around here — he then suddenly stops and looks at me — Don't get your hopes up, though.

I am not able to ask what he meant by that because he leaves too quickly. Time to look for Floch.

— Hey, Flo-

— Here.

— You didn't even let me finish.

— I know what you want. You are not in the mood for cocaine so you want MD instead, blah-blah-blah-blah. Is that kind of night — he pauses for mere seconds — Am I wrong, Eren?

— Nope, right as usual — Floch is the main person you go to when you need drugs. I mean, good drugs. He looks like your standard rich boy – which he is, by the way – that can do no wrong, but you can get the best stuff from him. I've always found this funny. The weed I have today was his work. He knows my taste well.

Reiner's frat house is huge, so there's plenty of room to walk. I'm approached by a bunch of girls on the way but for some reason, none of them piques my interest. I am pretty set on going after something new today and I have no problem getting laid. It happened every single day this week and it truly happens anytime I want. Which, okay, boosts my ego a little bit. Maybe a lot. I might even have hurt some girls in the process. I was never slapped though, unlike Jean. So that's a win in my book.

I see a few of my friends again, mainly Historia and Reiner, and they are talking to a girl I've never seen before.

She has long black hair and short messy bangs, the kind that goes a little above the eyebrows. I didn't know black hair was my thing until now. Her face has the perfect features, at least for me. She's wearing a sleeveless white top that is so tight that hugs her figure perfectly and makes her breasts look amazing. That type of top that shows the girl's side boob, and I'm a total sucker for those. It is also short so you can see a bit of her waist. And I don't even have to see her ass because I already know it is probably too damn good. Her light blue ripped jeans are cool as well and she has black sneakers. I like her style. She has a bunch of tattoos - a lot on her right arm, one on her left hand, and probably some that I couldn't see because they were behind her clothes. I intended to, though.

Fuck, she's hot.

Historia looks mesmerized talking to her, which is a very privileged view from where I stand because, as I've already said before, she is also beautiful. But she isn't exactly hot. This girl is. Way too much. Oh, and Reiner is there too. Whatever.

I can see a lot of guys want to approach her but none of them do. I went for it. Wasn't this night supposed to be wild?

— Hey, Eren! Guess what, Y/N is the new DJ at Shina! I was telling her how we go there all the time.

— Hi, Eren, nice to meet you — she says, with that kind of smile that people who know they are hot make. I do that too.

— Hey, Y/N — I say. And as I told you seconds before, I'm good with that type of smile as well so that's what she gets — Levi told me he came with the staff and a new girl, so I suppose that's you.

— Yeah, I'll start there next week.

— I talked to him about the party's playlist because I knew it couldn't be Reiner's.

— Yeah, it's Y/N's. She prepared it for the party when I invited the guys from Shina yesterday. We were in the same high school. — Reiner says that looking at me with a face that shows "See that, dickhead? I've known her for some years now".

— It's pretty good! I can't wait for the next party at Shina's to see your set! — Historia was always an angel.

REINER, WHERE'S THE REST OF THE ICE, MAN??, someone screamed far away.

— Shit. Catch up with you later, Y/N.

Too bad, huh, Reiner? He gives me a look that I can't quite figure out what it is, but I know for sure it wasn't a look of support. In the fucking slightest.

— I think Ymir is calling me as well, sorry!! — It was painfully obvious that Ymir wanted to make out with Historia for some time now. They never did. I think only Historia hasn't realized yet that Ymir is thirsty for her for god knows how long.

After Historia left, there was only me and her — So, by any chance, do you go to the same university as us? You look our age but Levi said you are new here — I tried asking this without looking at her body, but looking at her face was even worse. Her eyes were piercing me in the best way possible.

— I'm not exactly new, I'm from the same uni as you guys, but I took a gap year — she takes a sip of her drink — You probably never met me but I'm in the same year as you all are now.

Since Reiner knew her from high school, he also knew she was at the same university all along and never told any of the guys. Smart fucker.

— So that makes you a year older than me — I smirk at her.

— I guess it does — she smirks back as she lights up a cigarette and blows the smoke at me.

Ok, looking good so far.

I'm pretty high at this point, the MD and the music are making me horny, so I don't even bother to pretend that I'm not looking at her body. I'm looking at everything.

— You took something, didn't you?

— Do you want some? I can show you later where to get the best stuff. Anything you are in the mood for.

— I'm all set — she shows me her tongue and I see the acid. The view makes my own tongue feel lonely, maybe I should use it to steal that from her mouth. I hope she's horny as well.

We talk a lot about music since it's something that we both enjoy. She's passionate about it, I can tell. She asks about my band with true interest. Doesn't sound like small talk. She touches her hair and it makes me want to stuff my face in it. She has the smile that makes you want more. Her voice has the same effect.

The loud music allows us to talk near each other's ears. I hope she moans as loud as her playlist. The girls usually love my hair for some reason, either if it's in a messy bun as it is right now or if it's loose. They all love my green eyes too. She can see all that with somewhat detail since we are so close, even though it is a little dark here. If I take you to a room you can see me better, I almost blurb it out. I can see her too and that kills me.

She looks receptive to me but normally at this point I would be already hooking up with the girl. This time it isn't happening. I never have to work so much. I think I understand why the other guys didn't approach her before. She's a little intimidating to talk to, and that comes naturally to her – it doesn't seem to be on purpose. I flirt with her the way I normally do but she is hard to get, she hits every ball I throw. I remember what Levi said before. Oh, right.

But I'm vibing way too much at this point, I think if I touch any part of her I'll get hard immediately.

— This gap year you've mentioned... Did you go anywhere specific?

— I know it will sound cliché, but I went to Europe.

— Where in Europe?

— Everywhere — she says — I went down — the corner of her lips forming a smile  — And up. Everywhere. — and I can swear she sounds flirtatious as hell. I want to bite her lip.

— That sounds... Awesome. — I think she wants to bite me too, or at least I hope she does — Was there any particular reason to leave? If that's not too much to ask.

— Hm, I was kinda... — she stops to think for a few seconds as she holds her hair up and makes a ponytail, looking at the ground, the cigarette glued to her now closed lips. Her neck became exposed, it looks soft as hell and I can't wait to bruise it. She releases the smoke, that flows into the room, and looks deep into my eyes, as deep as I want to be inside her right now — ...stressed.

I reach my limit at this point.

— I can help you with the stress if you want.

— Really? — she's looking at me with the same teasing look and I'm doing the same, so we both know that's not a question I have to answer. Her tongue quickly passes through her top lip, her mouth forming a little wet smile — I don't think I need any help though.

I threw the ball and she hit a home run. My team was out.

I was not expecting that.

We hear some of the guys from Shina calling for her — Oh, they are calling me — Y/N looks at me again and says — See you around, Eren — giving me the same fucking grin I wanted to bite before.

She walks away and I see that her ass is, as I suspected from the very beginning, too damn good.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

After this, some time has passed. I look at the clock. Yeah, maybe a lot. I couldn't tell before because I'm drunk and drugged. I see most of my friends, all fucking wasted. Armin is holding up pretty well, Bertholdt's is knocked down for God knows how long, Mikasa probably smoked way too much weed (who am I to judge?) and looks dead on the couch. I don't see Ymir, Historia nor Reiner - there are too many people in this house to keep count. Sasha's eating something in the kitchen, I can't see what it is, but certainly, she got hungrier than normal after smoking some pot Connie gave her. Connie always holds his drinks well, he's still talking to a lot of people. I pass in front of one of the bathrooms and Hange is there, getting everything out of her system. Oh, and Ymir. There she is, holding Hange's hair, looking as pissed as ever. Levi probably went home hours ago. Jean is making out with some chick, he's going to score tonight. To be fair, he always does, but never with Mikasa.

I saw a lot of pretty girls today and I went for none of them. They tried and I shut them down, even the ones I normally fuck. There's someone I want to taste tonight and she's nowhere to be found. The guys from Shina are missing too, so I know I won't see her today anymore. Damn.

I'm not pissed at her but I'm pissed at the situation.

— Armin, I think I'm going to take off, are you coming?

— Yeah, I'm already pretty tired — he gets up — Jean's probably going to stay here.

— Yep. Probably. — Am I pissed that Jean's getting laid? Even though I could have as well? With someone else, at least? My mood feels off.

— I'm going with you too, I've lost count of how many assholes I had to shut down today. I think I even punched a few — I don't have to look to know that's Annie speaking — You were right, Eren, is it especially crowded today. In the shittiest way possible.

— Then let's go.

— Wait, I need to get my bag first, I left it in Reiner's room.

— I can get that for you, wait up.

— It's a black one. Small.

I sign a thumbs up for her and climb the stairs. I am hundred percent sure I'm going to see someone fucking there but that's the usual. I'm pretty sure I've already seen some people screwing in the corner of the living room minutes before. No one cares.

I open the door and see Y/N in her underwear, putting her white top back on. She does indeed have other tattoos.

— Hey there! — she says smiling, as she also puts her jeans back up, making little jumps so they pass through her ass. Her hair is not in a ponytail anymore.

I say hi in a confusing way.

— I came here to get my friend's bag — I look around for milliseconds like I don't know where the hell I am until I see Reiner lying - clearly naked - under his sheets. Can't be anyone else, with that bleached hair and huge biceps.

What? Ahn?

Hey... Wait a second.

Historia? Clearly naked as well? What. The. Hell. I guess she's not exactly the angel I thought she was?

They are sort of awake, sort of sleeping, kinda like on a different planet. You know, the type of thing that happens after a really strong fuck? That sort. They look exhausted. They look destroyed. And not in a bad way. AT ALL.

— Oh, I saw a bag before. Here you go — she gives me Annie's bag. She's all dressed now. She notices my confusion, I'm too high to act any other way — I've told you I don't need any help — her eyes piercing mine for the hundredth time tonight. Her smile hurts now. Ouch.

She grabs her sneakers and walks towards me and the door:

— I'm all set.

She leaves the room as I hold Annie's bag.

Yeah. I was not expecting that.

***

Thanks for reading (if there's even anyone here lmao). Chapter 2 will be uploaded later but it can be read now at AO3 or Wattpad.

[robinofinashiro]

request from anonymous: “hewwwoooo my favourite fanfic writer! i love ur ficssss so much. they keep me sane during this quarantine. may i request for a cute fic with porco and reiner chasing after the same girl (the reader)” 

note: i’m done with finals! you guys can send anything you’d like now! but sjksjksjk, i’m your fave??? but i went with the AU bc that’s what ppl have been asking for so i’m just assuming. 

request status: fully open!

pairing: porco galliard, reiner braun x fem! reader

you sat with Marcel as the two of you tried to cram for the same exam you had coming up. you were a year underneath him but you were in the honors program at the university so you almost had the same classes as he did. 

“between this exam and the project for Bio, I think my brain is going to combust,” you murmured to Marcel. he chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee, “well that and considering I heard my brother on Facetime with you until three in the morning, that could also contribute to your fatigue,” your face fell warm at the comment. 

you chucked a scrap piece of paper at hime, making him dodge it. you saw Reiner walking towards the two of you. you waved him over, his face instantly lighting up. 

“hey Braun, I thought you said you were going to skip coming to campus today?” you asked. he shook his head, sitting down next to you, almost immediately wrapping his arm around you, “nah, figured that if I didn’t come today, I wouldn’t see you until next Monday,” he mentioned. 

you saw Marcel’s face drop in slight annoyance before shaking it off. you couldn’t help but wonder what made him do that but decided not to pay too much attention. 

“that’s very flattering,” you murmured shyly. “so, what’s a cutie like yourself doing this Saturday,” he asked, “oh! I have plans with Marcel and Porco. they want to check out this restaurant a few towns over and Porco offered for me to come along,” you said excitedly. 

Reiner rolled his eyes, not happy about your plans, “why? were you planning on doing something?” you asked. Marcel immediately texted his brother to come down to the cafe. he hated to get into other peoples business, especially if it came to his hot headed brothers personal life but he knew more than anyone how you meant to him so he had to do the brother thing and notify him of Reiner’s intentions. 

“I was just wonderin’ if you wanted to come with Bertholdt, Annie, and I to ice skate, I wanted to take you as my plus one,” he stated. 

you thought for a moment. 

“well, what time are you guys planning on going? I can come after I’m done with Porco and Marcel!” you said excitedly. Reiner’s eyebrow raised as he saw Porco basically jetting down the stairs, “oh hey, Porco’s here!” you exclaimed 

Reiner remained silent, looking at the boy who was now glaring at him. the two of them continued to stare at each other, making you wonder why the air suddenly became thick. 

“uh, guys?” you said clapping your hands in front of their faces. they both instantly looked down at you, “sorry,” Reiner said bringing you to his side, “I was just thinking of something,” he spat.

Porco laughed sarcastically, “care to mention what is was, Braun?” he asked. you looked to Marcel for help, “guys, enough, let it go. Porco, you need to head home to grab your soccer gear,” Marcel said. 

the two of them brushed off the words as you placed your hand on Reiner’s shoulder, “hey, how about you come with me to class. I want to get there a bit early and I know your class is in the next hall,” you whispered, hoping they would finally end their stand off. 

“sure, I have no problem in walking you,” he said. Porco’s anger instantly rose, “I’ll come bring you lunch. I know how much you like the restaurant by my house,” you looked over to Porco, “you really don’t have too. you’re already paying for my dinner tomorrow so I can’t make you do that again,” you tried to say. 

Porco grabbed your hand, “for you, I’d do anything,” Marcel’s mouth dropped at the sudden declaration of love that was not normal coming out of his brother. Reiner on the other hand immediately retracted you from his grasp before taking your other hand, “lets go before you’re late,” he said. 

you gave Porco one final smile before walking away with Reiner. Marcel stared his brother in disbelief, not knowing what to do with what he just saw. “well, you gonna explain what I just saw?” he asked. 

Porco shook his head, “no,” and with that, he walked away. Marcel followed him, “listen, you know I’m the last to get in your business but this little competition over her has to stop. either one of you confesses and she accepts it before it goes to the shit and ends up dating someone else because of both of your immaturity,” Marcel lectured. 

“don’t you think I know that?” Porco retorted, “I’ve been fighting tooth and nail for her and I refuse to lose to Reiner of all people. plus, I heard from Pieck that she plans on choosing one of us soon so if it happens before she hangs out with Reiner on Saturday night then it’ll just be the cherry on top of it all.” 

Marcel rolled his eyes, brushing off his friend and brother immature attitude. 

+

Saturday morning finally came as you crawled out of bed. being that today was relatively the last day you had with both boys before you confessed to Reiner or Porco, you woke up with a feeling of nervousness in the pit of your stomach. 

“you ready for tonight?” Pieck said over Facetime. you shrugged, “kind of. I’m just nervous. regardless of who I actually like, the other is going to be so upset and I’m more than likely going to lose a friendship out of them,” you replied. 

she nodded understandingly, “well, do you know who really owns that heart of yours? one of them has to stand out more than the other,” she replied. “it’s hard. Reiner is such an amazing guy. he understands me in ways that Porco doesn’t. arguably, he’s been there a lot more than Porco has but Porco is just so different. he’s almost as if he’s the piece that I’m missing.” 

you growled, putting your head against the wall as she laughed, “listen, don’t stress yourself out. just see how today goes and if you happen to see that you like one more than the other, tell them right there,” you nodded as you saw Porco’s message telling you he was outside. 

you told Pieck goodbye before slipping on shoes and grabbing your bag. she could only hope that if you didn’t pick Porco, you let him down easy. she knew how Porco was, especially towards Reiner and didn’t want to be at the receiving end of the news if you told him no. 

“hey Marcel, Porco!” you said excitedly. Porco grabbed your hand softly as Marcel jokingly gagged, “be quiet. you’re just mad you don’t have anyone to be with,” Porco told him, “my date is meeting us there so fuck off,” Marcel countered.

the entire ride to the restaurant was you three just talking about whatever came up and because Porco sat in the back with you, he held your hand the entire time. every so often, he would rub your hand with his thumb making your face a bit warm. 

his grasp was very different in comparison to Reiner’s. Reiner’s hold was soft, almost like a delicate flower as Porco really held your hand as if it was the last time he’d ever get to hold it. 

“we’re here so get out my car,” Marcel said. you gave him the finger before hopping out of the so he could find parking. Porco held your hand, walking you to the small bench a bit away from the restaurant. you were confused as to why. 

“I want to talk to you about something,” he said grabbed your hand. you nodded for him to continue, “I know I’m basically fighting for you with Reiner. Ik know the two of you are close but I want you to know that I’d be the best option for you. I can give you the world and more,” he whispered before bringing you in for a kiss. 

he was lucky that the bench was so far from the restaurant as he slipped his hand on your thigh, pinching it softly. you moaned quietly at the movement but quickly enough moved back. 

“not here Porco and it’s not fair to Reiner and you know it.” 

he nodded as he let himself off you before getting up and giving you his hand. the two of you walked to the entrance of the restaurant, greeting Marcel’s date before walking in. 

+

after the dinner you walked to Marcel’s car, he had given Porco the key mentioning he’d get a ride back with his date. you sat in the passenger seat, holding his hand harder than you would be. 

the drive was eerily silent. he knew that you were now going to be with Reiner, essentially on a date with him and he had no control of what you did with him so the nervousness was bubbling up in his stomach. 

as he got the rink, he saw Reiner grabbing your pair of skates and paying for your ticket. he saw the way your face lit up at seeing him and a bit of sadness washed over him. 

“i’ll talk to you later?” you asked as he nodded. Porco kissed your hand softly before letting you out of the car and pulling out of the lot. 

you ran too Reiner, Annie, and Bertl, them saying hi almost instantly. Reiner handed you the skates as he patted the seat next to him. 

“here, I’ll tie your skates for you,” he offered, pulling your legs up. you smiled, “thank you Reiner,” you whispered. he slowly tied the skates before rubbing your legs softly, “you look amazing tonight,” he mentioned. 

you smiled, “stop, you’re just saying that,” your murmured shyly. he shook his head no, “i’m not. I’m glad you came out tonight and I want to show you that tonight is going to make up for whatever you didn’t enjoy today,” he added on. 

Reiner grabbed your hand, the one specifically Porco had kissed and brought you closer. this time, the kiss he had given you wasn’t as heated as Porco’s was. it was softer, more gentle, and nice. 

“lets go before Bertl and Annie think something happened to us,” he joked, finally pulling away. 

REINER ENDING: 

the entire time you were with Reiner, he had you within close proximity almost the entire night. singing songs in your ear as they played through the loud speaker of the rink. ‘you were meant for me’ from the movie Singing in the Rain was specifically the song he was singing. 

your face had felt warm the entire time. you found it sweet that such an old song was what he chose and knew from heart. 

Bertholdt and Annie had left the two of you a while after skating. the two of them claiming they were cold but you knew it was more of the fact that they probably wanted to give you privacy. 

“we should get going before you catch a cold,” Reiner said finally taking his skates off on the bench. he once again helped out unlace the shoes before handing them to the worker and meeting you back on the bench. 

the two of you walked to his car, him opening the door for you. upon him getting in the car, you looked over to him and smiled before reaching over and giving him a kiss. he instantly returned it, happy that his car was parked in a section with not many people looking in. 

“wait, i can’t do this, i don’t want to get my hopes up,” Reiner said trying to pull back. you sighed knowing what you were about to say would be just like word vomit, “Reiner, it’s not getting your hopes up if I’m just waiting for you to ask me out,” you whispered. 

his eyes widened, realizing what you meant. “wait, are you saying?” he asked. you nodded shyly as he practically fist pumped the air in excitement, “I’m so happy to hear those words,” he said pulling you in for another kiss. 

you let him kiss you for a while before pulling away, “I need to get home. I should text Porco,” you told him. Reiner nodded as he finally pulled out the parking lot and making his way back to your dorm. the entire time you had texted Porco. 

“I’m sorry Porco.” 

as soon as he received the message, he knew what it meant. he felt his anger rising as his hands clenched in anger. Marcel was sitting beside him as Porco stood up from the couch, leaving his phone accidentally open. he peered down to the message and sighed. 

Marcel knew you had no intentions to upset him so badly but he just felt sad at seeing his brother so upset. 

PORCO ENDING: 

you looked too Reiner and nervously smiled at him, “hey Reiner, do you think you can take me back to my dorm?” you asked. a part of him felt the shift in the air as you couldn’t really look at him anymore. 

Reiner was starting to connect the dots as you were silent through the drive home. you were holding his hand but not the way you would be and trying to make conversation but couldn’t keep it up. 

once you got back to your dorm building, you got out, Reiner walking you to the empty back entrance. you held his hand as you stood in front of him. “you don’t have to tell me, I can tell,” he told you, now holding both your hands, “i know but I feel so bad,” you murmured. 

Reiner shook his head no, “don’t. the world was meant for us just to be friends and as long as I’m able to be your friend, that’s all I ask,” you nodded as he placed on final kiss on the top of your head before giving you a small goodbye. 

you looked to your phone and texted Porco wondering if he could meet you at your dorm. you made your way to your room, kicking your shoes off and pulling on a hoodie and shorts. 

getting a response that he was downstairs, you walked down slowly, seeing him holding something in his hand. you opened the door as you stood in front of him and smiled. 

“how are you?” he asked softly, “fine, glad you wanted to meet me this late,” you responded. Porco laughed as he grabbed your hand, “always,” he replied. 

you pulled him in for a hug, surprising him a bit, “I hate to say it this way but I want you,” you managed to say. Porco’s mouth dropped a bit before he picked you up and spun you around, “seriously?” he asked. 

you nodded as he brought you down for a kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck. the two of you remained that way before you finally pulled away and looked at him with a soft smile. 

“you have no idea how happy that makes me. can i just cuddle you for a while?” he asked. you nodded as you opened the door and let him practically let him carry you in. 

[blinder-secrets]

Not Yet - Alfie

‘Can’t we just say good night?’ & ‘Don’t look’

alfie/fem!reader, 3,900 words

(also, thankyou to @murderousginger​ for helping me brainstorm this one)

prompt list

ao3 link

It was only meant to be few drinks.

At first, it was, but then you suggested going to another place, for another few drinks. Then it was Alfie’s turn to pick, so you went there, for another few drinks. Before you knew it, you were drunk. Absolutely, shit-faced drunk, and so was he. By your standards that meant the date was going well. Or rather, it had gone well, and now you were so far over your limits that ‘date’ was hardly an appropriate description. The lines had gotten blurred somewhere between this pub and the last. The formalities had dropped, the careful flirting abandoned. 

Now, it didn’t feel like you were getting to know him, or even like you had to. It’s like you’ve been together for months. The liquor’s tricked you both into it.

‘Here, here, out you go, that’s it,’ Alfie says, holding the door open for you. You stumble past him, tripping over his feet despite the room available. You cling to him, move around him, stick by him like he’s got a spring clipped to your belt. There’s space for you to leave side by side, but you drag him after you in single-file instead.

‘You sure you don’t want to go somewhere else?’ you say over your shoulder, pushing open the second, and final door into the street.  

‘Yeah, love,’ he answers. ‘I don’t think you’d survive another one.’

When you step down onto the pavement, your arms fly up, forearms crossing above your head. It’s raining lightly, but you took so long on your hair that any amount of moisture is a personal, and violent, attack to your being. ‘Oh, fuck,’ you curse, stepping back instinctively. ‘Alf, it’s raining.’

His hands go to your shoulders; you’ve walked backwards into him, but he doesn’t push you away again, just holds you still so you don’t throw the both of you off balance. ‘Nah,’ he says, looking up to the dark sky. ‘Just drizzle, innit. I’ve had stronger pisses.’

You scoff, giving him what you’re sure is a massively over-animated scowl, but you can’t rein it back if you tried. Every expression plasters itself onto your face before your mind has time to consider it. ‘Still,’ you whine, ‘can’t we get a car?’

‘A car?’ His eyebrows lift, then, his chin drops so his lips are by your ear. His beard tickles the skin that’s left unprotected by the collar of your coat. ‘Here I was, yeah, thinking you were a tough one,’ he teases, failing to shy when you attempt to shrug him away. ‘Scared of a little rain, are we, pet?’

His voice hums past your ear, the low tone leaves goosebumps along your cheek.

‘Get off, you pest,’ you laugh, slapping his arm lightly. ‘Fine, we’ll walk.’ You step away from him, just to turn back and point a warning finger in his general direction. ‘But when we’re piss-wet through, you can’t say a word. You have to remember what I looked like before.’

He holds his palms to the side, cane swinging from the crook of his arm. ‘What would I have to say, hm? Besides that you look lovely, of course, fucking lovely.’

You snort. The raindrops pill on your lapel. ‘Besides that, yeah.’

‘And, right, I’m sure, yeah, that you’ll look even lovelier when you’re we—‘

‘Shall we walk?’ You interrupt, offering him your hand. 'Let’s walk, Alfie.’

He laughs, finally stepping down from the doorway of the pub, and into line with you. Your hands lock together and then he’s pushing the both of them, still joined, into the pocket of his coat. ‘Keep ‘em warm,’ he says, catching the surprise on your face. ‘You’ve never been with a proper gentleman, have you?'

‘None like you,’ you answer.

No-one quite like Alfie has ever taken you out, you aren’t sure anyone similar even exists. You’ve known him for little over a month and he’s repeatedly caught you off guard. The second you get familiar with how he acts, he changes again, not that you mind. In fact, the only thing you knew about him for certain was that he was unpredictable, and you liked that. You’re bored of men that prove you right.

Alfie sets the pace and you follow keenly, though, it’s less of a walk and more of an amble. He doesn’t say where you’re going, but you can only assume it’s home. As much as you’re enjoying yourself, it’s the best option for the both of you, you need water and bed. Maybe some bread to line your stomach. The rain continues but it’s still light enough, and you’re still drunk enough, to forget about it. You let it dampen your hair without complaint.

‘Do you actually use that?’ you ask, nodding to his other arm.

‘What? This?’ He lifts the cane in his free hand. ‘Course, I do, when I have to. Why? Did you think I just have it for fun, yeah?’

You shrug, though your limbs are so weighty from the drink that it barely registers as movement. ‘Could’ve been for intimidation purposes,’ you offer. ‘Or fashion.’

‘Fashion?’ His voice peaks, almost bursting through to laughter. ‘Fucking fashion?’

‘What? It could’ve!’

‘You are a right fucking sort, love. You really are.’ He laughs, head shaking, and tugs you along. ‘Fashion. I don’t fucking know, the things you come out with…’

‘You’ve laughed a lot tonight,’ you comment, the thought slipping out between the things you actually wanted to say. ‘It suits you.’ You’ve never heard him laugh so much, nor as fully. He laughs like a schoolboy. Giggles like he’s been told not to.

‘Yeah, well, you’re funny, aren’t you?’ He looks across at you fondly, or drunkenly. There might not be a difference. ‘Can’t be serious all the time, right,’ he rambles, ‘you wouldn’t like me much if I was.’

You snort, but nod. Seeing him lighter, relaxed, has only added to the attraction you have for him. He could’ve sat there and laughed at nothing all night and you would still be smitten.

‘So, what about that?’ he asks. ‘You use that, yeah?’ He’s dipping his head toward you, gesturing to something on your person.

‘Use what?’ You look down, and back to him, then down again like you missed something.

‘Your little purse, there.’

‘My purse?’ You lift it from where it’s been sat against your hip. The movement shakes water onto your feet. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Cause, yeah,’ he starts, ‘if I remember rightly, hm, I paid for everything you drank tonight. And mine.’

You scoff and turn to him with your mouth open.

‘So, I was wondering, right, what I was going to say, was is that just for fashion or—‘

‘I offered!’ You bump your shoulder into his. ‘Don’t be cruel.’

‘I don’t remember.’ He’s frowning, but it’s false. The smirk he’s wearing betrays him. ‘And I think, yeah, that I would remember if a pretty lady offered to buy me a drink.’

‘Oh really?’ You lift your eyebrows, playing along now, just for the sake of it. ‘Is that cause it never happens, Alfie?’ You pout for him. ‘Pretty ladies never take you out?’

He laughs again and then, like he’s planned it, the weather changes. Or rather, intensifies. The rain goes from un-bothersome to downright rude. It slaps against the road, your shoulders, your face. It picks up so quickly that you almost feel winded.

‘Oh my God,’ you gasp, shrinking into his side. ‘Alfie, what the fuck.’

‘Yeah, now that, that is some fucking rain, love.’ His shoulders lift, like that’ll protect him from the weather. ‘I don’t think we’re dodging this, pet.’

‘Come on.’ You tug at his hand, which is still warm and dry, and wrapped around yours in his pocket. ‘Faster, please.’

‘Come on where? I’m walking you.’ He laughs the words, having to push them louder above the sound of the rain. ‘This ways quicker, right, trust me.’

He turns down the next road and you follow because, well, you do trust him. And, because the rain is pelting it down and you fucking hate that. He could walk you into the nearest whorehouse and you’d say, ‘thank-you so much, Alfie, this is just where I wanted to be.'

Ten minutes later and you’re standing by the front-door of his house, though you don’t know that’s where you are, until he starts fumbling with his over-stocked keyring. He flicks through all of them twice, before picking the right one from the bunch.

‘Yeah, no rush, Alf,’ you say, more amused than serious. ‘I’m fine here, just fine. Actually, I love being freezing cold and dripping wet, so take your time.’

‘Listen, yeah,’ he glances at you as he pushes the key into the lock, ‘any more, and I’ll put you in Cyril’s house round the back, ey? How will that suit the lady?’

‘That’d be grand, Alfie.’

The door opens and you hurry to get inside, giving him no chance to invite you. If you had any manners left, you’d have waited, but the rain has washed you free of them. You’re so cold, and so wet, that you don’t really care if you’re being rude. You don’t even feel awkward about being stood in Alfie’s hallway, gracing his home for the very first time.

‘There.’ He shuts the door behind him, twisting the secondary latch to lock it. ‘That’s better, innit. Nice and dry.’  

You shudder. The warmth hasn’t greeted you yet. ‘Is there a fire?’

‘Through there, love.’ He goes to move past you but then reconsiders, stopping in front of you with his hands out. ‘Here, give me your coat, yeah, take your shoes off.’

Turning, you let him grab the collar of your coat and pull it from your shoulders. It puts up a fight; it’s wet-through and clinging, but he tugs it off eventually and hangs it up for you. You feel lighter without it. When he’s back, and you’re facing him again, you bend at the waist, leaning on his offered-hand for support. You un-tie one shoe and then the other. Once they’re off, he takes those too, picking them up and carrying them into the next room with him.

‘She’s very good, Annie, my house lady,’ he says, talking as he walks. ‘Keeps the fire lit, don’t even have to ask her. Just knows, doesn’t she, knows when the house should be warm.’

‘You must pay her well,’ you comment, watching as he puts your shoes on the bricks before the fireplace. ‘Thank-you.’

He waves off your thanks. ‘Pay her well enough, yeah. Should probably pay her more.’

You stop next to him and hold your palms to the flames that Annie has prepared. The heat welcomes you. It sinks into your hands, then your face, then the aching cold between your joints. ‘God, that is nice,’ you sigh. ‘I don’t think I’d have lasted til my house.’

Alfie nods. He’s staring into the fire, still in his outerwear, and rubbing a hand through his beard. Where his minds gone, you’ve no idea. Maybe the sudden change in temperatures has shortcut his circuits.

‘You’re leaving puddles,’ you say, stirring him.

‘Oh, right, yeah.’ He looks down, nodding, and begins to peel off the layers. ‘I was just thinking, that if the rain doesn’t stop, yeah, well, you could stay the night. If you wanted to.’

It’s odd, he seems almost shy about suggesting it. The Alfie that convinced you to go out with him would’ve laughed at the Alfie you’re seeing now.

‘Or,’ he continues, ‘or, well, I could just order you a car. There is that option.’

‘I don’t mind staying.’ You smile and he nods again, hand returning to his beard. ‘What are you thinking about?’ you ask, curious to the cogs that twist his mind so far from the room. ‘You look worried.’

‘Me? Nah, nah.’ He shakes his head quickly, turning to dump his coat and scarf onto the nearest armchair. They won’t dry like that but he doesn’t seem to care. ‘Just thinking about the logistics, yeah.’

‘The logistics?’

He hums in agreement.

‘The logistics,’ you drawl, ‘of me spending the night?’

‘Well, when you put it like that, it is gonna sound odd, isn’t it?’ he replies, huffing slightly. ‘Don’t worry yourself, alright, you just focus on getting warm, yeah? Stand closer.’

He holds your biceps from behind and pushes you forward a step. You laugh, saying his name once, before watching him disappear from the room. His strangeness didn’t drop off at the doorstep, then. He carries it with him even at home.

You stand where he put you, but let your eyes wander in his absence. The room, which you can only assume is his main living space, is absolutely as you’d expect it. The furniture is littered with fabrics, rugs and blankets that he’s no-doubt brought home from his travels. Picture frames dot across the walls, only a few of them sitting straight, and the dark-green paper fills any blank spots with a quiet depth. It’s a dim room, lit with just a few lamps and the fire, but it is inviting. Cluttered, but controlled enough to feel like intention sat beneath every trinket.

When you hear his footsteps returning, you face the doorway and wait. He arrives shortly after, with what looks like his entire wardrobe bundled into his arms. You raise an eyebrow as he crosses to your side of the room.

‘Thought you might want something else to wear,’ he explains. ‘Your coat did a better job than mine at keeping you dry, yeah, but I wanted to offer. It won’t do us any good to sit in wet clothes.’

‘Are you always like this?’ you ask, feeling the corners of your lips twist upwards. You don’t mean to laugh at him but, well, he’s being so sweet that you can’t help it. You never thought you’d call him cute but now it bubbles on your tongue, waiting to get out.

‘Like what, love?’ He hands you a shirt. ‘That one alright, yeah?’

You take it, nodding before you’ve even looked it over. If it fits him, it’ll fit you. ‘I don’t know,’ you say, ‘you’re, well, you’re faffing, Alfie.’

He pauses. There’s four or five shirts in his hands still. ‘Faffing?’

‘Y’know, you’re being very attentive. It’s sweet, I’ve just never seen you so…’ You gesture vaguely in the air, hoping to mimic the way he’s been flitting about the house.

When he snorts, you can’t help but relax slightly. You were almost positive you’d offended him. But instead he’s smiling, and putting the shirts over his shoulder as he approaches. ‘Can’t I look after my guest?’ he starts. ‘Hmm?’ He puts a hand on your waist, and the other wanders to brush across your cheek, to drop down and along your collarbone. ‘Can’t I keep my lovely date happy, yeah, and help her dry off from the rain?’

Now it’s your turn to look nervous, though maybe you feel it more than you look it. The walk here had stripped you of some drunkenness and, with him so close, you see that it took some of your confidence with it. Washed it down the drains with the weather.

‘I just like things to be proper,’ he says. His voice has dropped lower, quieter. A soft rumbling between you. ‘You’ve never been here before, yeah, so how would it look, if you was to feel uncomfortable, if you were not looked after in the proper way?’

You wet your lips. If he wants an answer from you, he shouldn’t have stood so close. All you can think about is the warmth from his chest, the smell of rain in his hair, the brush of heat against your face every time that he talks. The rum behind his words. The curl of his moustache, just long enough to go over his lip.

‘You in there, love?’ he asks.

‘I think I want you to kiss me, Alfie,’ you say quickly, flashing the idea between a hurried breath. ‘I definitely want you to.’

Any other man, any other bloody man in the world, would’ve done it. He would’ve obliged. A drunk girl in a half-wet blouse, asking to be kissed, is standing in his living room and all Alfie does is squint, and hold your cheek like you’re one of the wonders he’s collected.

‘You’re very special, aren’t you. Yeah. Different,’ he mutters. ‘Normally, yeah, well, normally women can’t fucking stand me. But you, you just want.’

‘Want what?’

‘More.’ He’s still watching you closely, his thumb moving so slowly against your face that you can barely feel it. ‘You want more of me than the rest.’

‘Is that a crime?’ you ask, though you’d meant to just think it, not say it.

The stillness breaks, his hand falling away as he gives a short laugh. ‘Well,’ he says, shrugging, ‘probably should be, shouldn’t it? If we’re honest. I mean, look at me, yeah, then look at you. That’s fucking criminal, love.’

You roll your eyes. ‘Please, Alf.’

‘Wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it, darling.’ He steps back, pulling the shirts from his shoulder as he walks to the sofa across from you. ‘Now, don’t look,’ he says, ‘wouldn’t want to scare you off.’

He’s got his back to you, but you don’t look away. Instead, you frown at his shoulders, watching as he begins to unbutton the shirt he’s in.

‘Scare me off?’ you repeat.

His actions slow, the line of his shoulders drops either side of him. ‘Yeah.’ He pauses just long enough to make you think he’s uncomfortable, or maybe even afraid. But that sounds ridiculous once you say it back to yourself.

You move toward him. Without shoes, your footsteps are barely audible.

‘Well,’ he answers eventually, ‘not very pretty, really, all the scars.’

You say his name again, from behind him, and he turns to meet you. His shirt is open, loose over his chest. He doesn’t say anything, but sighs, as if he’s been caught and now has to suffer the punishment. Though, there is none. There’s nothing he could show you that would be deserving of it, you’d accepted the scars he carried the moment you agreed to date him.

Cautiously, you take the edge of his shirt between your thumb and forefinger. Through the gap in cotton, all you see is chest hair, and freckles from the sun. When he doesn’t stop you, you pull the shirt to the side and carry it off his shoulder. There’s a scar on his chest, in your eye-line, another by his ribs. Some are big, raised, others smaller and disappearing. You put your palm flat and follow them down. You trace the marks. You show him they mean nothing; it’s all just ink on the page.

Before he fully relaxes into it, he remembers himself, and holds you still by the wrist.

‘Nothing scary ‘bout them,’ you mumble, stumbling your words ahead of his.

‘Look, you need to change, love. You’ll catch a cold.’

‘I’m fine,’ you insist. You haven’t felt the chill since he touched your waist by the fire. ‘Why won’t you let me?’

The more affection you give, the more he resists. The more you want to touch him, the further he steps back.

‘Let you what?’

‘Don’t you want me?’ You don’t mean to ask it, but it falls from your tongue before you can stop yourself. The doubt that had begun to creep into the base of your skull, had now fallen between you in one embarrassing, desperate motion.

For a breath, he looks hurt. Torn. Then, he puts the stoicism back onto his features, and ushers you toward the fire. ‘Love, I’m just wanting you wrapped up, yeah? I can’t settle with—‘

‘Fuck’s sake, Alfie.’ You pull away from him. ‘Stop mothering me.’

Now you’re apart, his hand goes to his shirt, pulling it back over his shoulder before he speaks again. ‘Can’t we just…’ He sighs. He pushes his hair back. He attempts to salvage the evening that was quickly falling away from you both. ‘Listen, pet, let's just say goodnight.’

You scoff. ‘Can’t we just say goodnight? Fucking hell, Alfie, if you don’t want me here, why offer?’

‘And if you aren’t gonna listen, yeah,’ he replies quickly, ‘why talk? It’s not that I don’t want you, right, it’s that the circumstance,’ he drags the words out, gesturing between you, ‘begs for some reconsideration.’

It isn’t making sense to you yet, so you stare at him with your eyebrows raised, waiting for more.

He clears his throat. ‘It’s not exactly usual, is it, yeah, that you would find yourself stuck here, with me, waiting for the rain to stop, so you can leave.’

‘That’s not what’s happening.’

‘I don’t want any pressure on you,’ he says, ‘none at all. That’s what it is, pet, that’s all it is. Just consideration.’

‘And what if I said there was no pressure?’

‘I’d say, yeah, that it’s worth waiting to make sure.’ He lifts his arm, crossing the distance you’d forced between you, to touch your bicep gently. ‘If you still want me in the morning, I’m yours, love, but not yet, alright?’

You nod. You can’t argue with him now, not when everything he’s done since you’ve stepped through his door, has been in your best interest. Not when you’ve been so full of drink, and need, and wanton carelessness that you hadn’t even realised. You’d really stood before a man that had showed nothing but care, and demanded to know if he wanted to sleep with you or not.

‘Sorry,’ you say quietly, ‘I was being bratty.’

‘Nah,’ the word bursts out of him, so loud you jump slightly. ‘Don’t be silly.’ His mood’s switched so instantly, that you’re wide-eyed, then frowning, and then smiling — all in the time he’s taken to finish his sentence. ‘We’ve had enough rum to put a fucking horse to sleep, love.’

‘You have,’ you add, feeling easier already. ‘I could hardly keep up.’

‘Bloody good effort, though. Damn near had me.’

You laugh. He’s lying, you both know it, but you’re just happy to be joking again. Relieved to know you’re still getting on. ‘You know,’ you say, once you’d begun to simmer, ‘I really didn’t expect you to be so soft.’

‘Soft?’ He turns his head, like he’s bashful, before meeting you again with that same fond expression from before. ‘Just takes a certain kind of person, innit, to bring it out. Otherwise, it just stays down there, under all the shit.’

‘Well,’ you smile, ‘I’m glad to see it.’

You’re glad to know you’re wrong yet again. To know that every presumption you could make about him, would be  false. That he can be hard, but soft too, that he can be rough with his words, but still care beneath them. If you had any hopes of leaving this house unattached, with your heart firmly in place, they were long gone. One taste of him, and you’re addicted. He was right when he said you wanted more.

‘We should go to bed,’ you say. ‘Then it’ll be morning, and we can make sure I still want you.’

[ilguna]

Redamancy - Chapter Four (f.o)

summary: it’s time to forgive and repair.

warnings; swearing, MURDER, GORE.

wc; 8.8k

NOTES; I give reader a last name to fit the world.

–

Even though the Hunger Games doesn’t start until ten, you’re in the betting room at nine. You’re not the first and only mentor to come down bright and early, there’s plenty of others who are already making their way around the room. Shaking hands, exchanging compliments and holding friendly conversation.

You’re not exactly the same way, as you stand off to the side, gnawing on your thumb’s nail. You’ve watched Annie and Marsh’s odds bob up and down plenty of times already, as the gamemakers try to decide where they belong last minute. So far, Annie and Marsh are back to back in numbers, with Marsh being on top.

“You’re stressed.”

Gloss is staring up at the betting board when you look over at him. He’s got his arms crossed, serious and straight-faced. In the past, he would be some type of excited because of their undeniably fantastic tributes. This year is different, as you’ve already discovered many times. His male tribute scored lower than usual, and the girl is higher by one single point.

It’s normal for the careers to score from anywhere between eight and ten, but that doesn’t mean they want an eight. They want nines and tens, because it shows proficiency and dangerousness. Plus, it’s normally District Four who’s scoring eights and whatnot. A good example of that is when Finnick scored the number when he was fourteen.

Today’s seriousness doesn’t reflect the attitude that was being presented last night. Last night was much livelier, a laughing group of mentors on the streets of the Capitol. Of course, as Finnick requested, you all stayed inside and in private rooms for most of the time, but eventually he decided that he wanted to experience the festival the way you guys normally do.

Which is practically chaos, as Gloss and Enobaria feed into each other’s bad thoughts and drag you around the city doing whatever they want. Trying on regular Capitol wear, buying replica crowns that Snow places on the brows of victors. They try different drinks and foods, all a hundred different flavors, some sweet, others sour, sometimes spicy.

The Capitol is a playground to them, and it’s fun to watch them break rules and create their own. Playing games on the sidewalk to see who will chug the next cherry vodka, who will lose a shirt or a sock or a piece of expensive jewelry down a storm drain. The night of the interviews is the only night where you all get to be your true selves.

Even Finnick felt comfortable enough to join in on your antics. It’s always a night to remember, you’re sure that he’ll be using it to tell stories in the future. The year where you cornered Finnick to helping you, and how he saw that you weren’t always who you pretended to be. It’s easy to be professional when you don’t like someone, but it’s harder to contain yourself when you’re surrounded by people who understand what you’re going through.

Of course, it’s only one night. If your tributes die, you get sent home, so you never have the chance to congratulate and celebrate with your friends after they bring home another tribute. You can always say your peace the next year, but by then they’re over it, and they’re ready for another victor.

“So are you.” you playfully punch his bicep, “Look at you, you never cross your arms.”

He gives you a smile, “Whatever, it’s not that much of a giveaway.”

“You’re right, it was definitely your face. You never scowl.” You look at the board again to see that all the numbers seem to be locked, “Careful, you’ll end up with wrinkles. After that, people will really begin to realize that you’re older than Cashmere.”

The board is a little confusing at first to get used to, but after years of looking at it, you’ve grown accustomed to it. At the top reads ‘MORNING LINE ODDS’, and below is a row readied for how many days, hours, minutes and seconds the tributes have been inside of the arena. Which is none at the moment, so instead they have a countdown going on. Fifty-four minutes. Less than an hour.

Below it are more rows and information about the tributes. The left states their district, and then it splits into two. The Capitol doesn’t care about names anymore, just the important parts. Their heights, weights, ages, betting odds and faces are displayed for everyone to see.

For Gloss and Cashmeres tributes, they’re both doing fairly good on odds. The girl has a predicted 5-1 chance of winning, and the boy has a 7-1. In the past, the roles have been reversed, the boys always show a brute strength during their private training so it’s hard not to score like that. Enobaria and Wades tributes are better, even with the repeating numbers. The girl has a 5-1 too, but the boy holds a 3-1 because of his score.

The gamemakers are used to your tributes’ scores teetering on the edge of very good and mediocre, which normally earns them a 9-1 or lower. However, since your tributes have shown promise through personality and matching high numbers, you’re staring at a 7-1 for Marsh and a 8-1 for Annie. It’s not perfect, but it’s better than the past scores.

You think that the lowest you’ve seen for District Four is a 20-1. That was a particularly horrible year, and since then you’ve learned to stop the problem before it gets too bad to be fixed. Maybe it’s attitude, maybe it’s not caring for training, you’re there with dead eyes and mean words to put them back in their place. They like to self-sabotage, not a good thing to do when you’re going into the Hunger Games.

On one hand, you’re thankful for the morning line odds, because it gets the betters a sense of direction of which tributes they should sponsor and keep an eye on. But sometimes it seems futile when the sponsors will do whatever they want, or go for the more obvious and favorable tributes--cough cough, Districts One and Two. You can never go wrong betting on the districts that practically get a winner every year.

“Haha.” Gloss says in regards to your age comment, “Where’s Finnick?”

You shrug, “Couldn’t find him at all this morning.”

It’s true, you searched the entire apartment three times before leaving. The living room, the kitchen, the balcony, your bedroom, his bedroom, even in the hallway and stairwell. There wasn’t a single trace of Finnick anywhere, it didn’t even look like he spent the night in his room, but you definitely remember him going in there last night.

Whatever, you’re not all that upset. It’s the first day, and even if there’s a lot that happens on the first day, sponsorships aren’t one of them. The first day relies on the tributes to get used to their surroundings and figure things out for themselves. The second day is when mentors and sponsors begin to collaborate.

Doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t be down here anyway. It’s nice to make friends while you can. You’ll just have to talk to Finnick later about him helping you down here. The whole reason why you’ve called on him for help this year is because of the betting room. An extra pair of eyes, ears and hands helps out, it goes a long ass way. Two people mingling is better than one. You can pull more sponsors together.

You glance at Gloss, “Where’s Cashmere and the others?”

“Wade’s here,” Gloss turns, thumb jabbing in the direction. He’s got the spot perfectly right, you’re able to see that Wade is surrounded by Capitol people, all laughing and joking around, “Cashmere and Enobaria will be down here later. They’re sleeping in, I think.”

“Well, after last night…” you trail off with a small smile, and Gloss snorts.

It’s quiet between you two as you watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes left, the tributes are close or in the catacombs at this point. Judging by the small glimpse the gamemakers gave this year, you think that the arena’s going to be sunny. They’re probably dressed in regular clothing, stuff that won’t make the tributes too hot but won’t allow them to get cold easily.

Honestly, at this point, you’re tired of the build up. 

“At least your tributes’ odds are doing well this year.”

“Tell me about it. But it came at a price, since yours fucked up during training.” you run a hand through your hair, getting annoyed when it falls back in your face.

“There’s always room for redemption.”

Redemption, what a pointless thing to bank on, “Right.”

You’d tell him it’s good to have hope, but when has hope ever helped you? It’s always a letdown. And out of all tributes that are about to enter the arena, the careers aren’t the ones that need hope. It’s everyone else.

More silence, you mindlessly watch the time tick down. Thirty minutes, twenty, fifteen, ten. Everyone starts getting antsy around five, you and Gloss stand behind the rows of chairs that begin to fill with citizens. Wade comes around and joins the two of you, talking about what he discovered during conversation.

He was going after their opinions on the tributes. And while they have sung good praise of their tributes, as usual, they also couldn’t stop bringing up Marsh in particular. There were constant comments on how they had wished that he would’ve gotten more time on stage. It was new to them, and they liked the new approach. 

You figure that other mentors will start telling their tributes to follow in Marsh’s footsteps, and after that the comedy skit will be ruined and you’ll have to find something else that’ll catch attention. At this point, everything possible has been found and exploited until it got old. 

Twenty seconds until it hits a minute, which is when they’ll raise the tributes. The games don’t officially start until that minute is over. The clock will flip, and then it’ll start from the bottom up. You clench your teeth, spinning your ring around your finger over and over. Annie and Marsh are in the tubes, submerged in darkness, you can feel it yourself, the stomach lurching and the dread and regret. It’s too late now, they have to fall through on what they’ve built so far.

They’ve got this. They’ve got this. They’ve got this.

The clock hits a minute and five seconds, you can begin to see the tops of tributes heads. You lean forward slightly, eyes searching for Annie and Marsh, and find them easily. They’re close together, maybe two tributes between them, which is good news. They can see each other and decide what they want to do. You hope they discussed some sort of plan at some point regarding how they want to start their games off.

The cornucopia this year is silver and placed in the middle of a field of flowers. The grass is tall too, but thin enough to see where the gamemakers have placed the goodies outside of the cornucopia this year. As the camera pans around the tributes, you’re able to catch glimpses of the arena.

A field of flowers, hills that seem to stretch forever and offer little to no protection. In the distance is… a village? Others must see it too, because whispers break out, predictions on which tributes will immediately run for it. It’s an obvious place to go, Annie and Marsh won’t head there first. They’ll go for a better place.

However, it’s not inevitable, it’ll probably be the first place where the careers will go to get as many people out as possible. For a quick and scary moment, you think that this will be a fast Hunger Games. Whatever happens, just let one of your tributes last until the end.

One last shot before the sixty seconds is over, and it feels like you’ve been stabbed in the heart. 

The dam that they showed--the preview--they must’ve edited it or something with how they made it look so small and not at all threatening. You thought it was holding back a small river, especially with the stream of water that was coming from it. But this--this is not for a river. This is for a fucking lake.

“Oh my fucking god.” you lace your fingers, placing your hands on the back of your head.

“Wow.” Gloss utters, “Yeah that isn’t at all what they showed us.”

From what you can tell, the tributes are supposed to be far away from the dam, a couple miles at least. But it’s still big enough to see through the trees, and tall enough to block some of the sky. Actually, it reminds you of the cliffs in your games. The cliffs were a two day walk from the cornucopia, and yet you could see them over the tops of the trees.

No one in their right mind would head towards the dam, especially with the chance that it would break. It’s just not common sense, and Annie and Marsh have shown promise when it comes to thinking logically. Which means that they would have to head the other way… towards the village.

They’re fucked. Everyone in that arena is set up for failure. You give it a couple of days, maybe a week and a half at most. No one in their right mind is going to want to stay next to the dam, but on the other hand they won’t want to get killed. And you can hide near the dam at the beginning of the games, but eventually if you want to head towards the village and clear hills, people will see you coming from a mile away.

You clench your fists, gritting your teeth more as your nails dig into the skin on your palms. 

Out of all the arena’s that you’ve seen, this is by far the worst. It’s a trap, there’s no choice but to fall victim to it.

“Well, there goes literally everything.” Wade lets out a laugh.

“The others should be down here.” Gloss says.

He’s referring to Enobaria, Cashmere and Finnick, and he’s completely right. They won’t know what’s happening or the situation until later. By then, it’ll be too late. The bloodbath always costs around seven to ten lives, and if they all scatter towards the village, you think at the end of the day, half the competition will be gone.

The countdown has reached five, you watch as Annie and Marsh prepare to run into the cornucopia. It isn’t a bad choice, they’re good fighters. As long as they don’t go too far in, maybe grab the supplies that are only a few feet away from the mouth, they’ll be golden. You hope they realize this.

The gong sounds.

It’s only been a couple of seconds, and a handful of tributes are already heading towards the village. Others dare to run towards the dam, but they’re all apprehensive and continue to steal longing looks at the cornucopia and beyond that. They’re not the focus of the cameras, though.

The bloodbath is horrible as usual. Annie and Marsh are next to each other, stealing things out of the grass, shoving them into an empty backpack. Sheets of plastic, bread, firestarters, rope, water jugs. You watch with furrowed eyebrows, trying to keep track of the careers and the deaths.

On the side of the screen is a list, one at a time names and districts appear. The girl from Six, the boy from Eight, the girl from Eleven, the boy from Twelve. Two minutes in and four are already dead. Annie and Marsh head towards the cornucopia quickly, a plan already in mind.

Marsh slips inside of the cornucopia, making your heartbeat in your ears, body filling with adrenaline. Stupid move, going inside traps you there. Not even in your games did you go inside all the way. He’s gone for ten seconds, twenty. Annie doesn’t appear to be worried at first, but it changes when a career sets their eyes on her.

The boy from One.

“Oh, here we go.” you cross one arm over your chest, the other covering your mouth.

Annie ditches the backpack, throwing it against the cornucopia to keep it clear of her path. Out of nowhere, she pulls out a knife, spinning it between her fingers to make sure that the boy knows she has it. Her body curls in forward, chin dropping downwards.

She would look threatening, as if she has a chance at winning this fight if it weren’t for the short blade that the boy has. He comes towards her, a smile hinting at the corners of his lips. He swings, she dodges easily and advances forward. Annie isn’t a runner, especially not when she has a plan. 

This is life or death, Annie. This isn’t practice anymore. This is for real.

He swings again, she moves out of the way and comes closer, a little out of range. The boy is becoming frustrated, and his swings begin to cut close. Annie side steps, you can see the blade cut through her shirt, when the boy holds his blade up, you can see a glint of blood. Annie doesn’t even look phased.

Where the hell is Marsh? You look at the corner of the screen, reading over the new list of deaths. The boy from Eleven, the girl from Twelve, the girl from Ten. Seven dead, the bloodbath is practically over, Annie and Marsh need to get out of there now.

He swings again, cutting Annie’s upper left arm. She barely acknowledges it, when the gamemakers change camera angles, you can finally see her face. All those times you’ve watched her fight the other kids at the boarding school, she’d be able to sweep most of the kids with her eyes closed. On the days you and Anchor permitted actual harm, she became more serious about fighting.

Annie shifted in those moments. Her eyes dead, locking on the target in front of her. She always has a plan, always ready to move and bait the person in. She’ll tense in sticky situations, but always find her way out of it. She became unlikable when fighting others because of this. Always said that it was an unfair fight. 

And she’s about to bring the boy from One down.

The boy swings one more time, Annie moves out of the way in time for him to miss. Not a second later, she’s launching towards him, the knife perfectly aimed for his stomach. He’s quick to try and slash at her, so she has to drop the knife in the grass and grab his wrist instead, falling on top of him.

Annie slams her knee into the boy's left wrist, and uses both of her hands to force the sword in the other hand, down towards his throat. His face turns an angry shade of red, eyebrows forced so close that there’s a deep crease between them. Annie’s face is determined, the kind and polite girl that you saw yesterday evening is nowhere to be seen.

It’s a struggle between them, Annie’s got a tight grip around his wrist, knuckles turning white. She grits her teeth, lip curling, lets up for a moment on the arm, only to go crashing back down. The boys’ locked arm breaks, and the sword slides through his throat. Red, thick blood comes out of his throat, painting his tan skin and the silver blade.

Annie lets out a sound, pulls out the sword, and slams it into his forehead. On the side of the screen, the boy from One appears. You let out a breath, watching as Annie gathers her things. It’s right on time for Marsh to come fighting out, the girl from One trying to stop him. His face is twisted like he’s in pain, but it’s just how he focuses too.

If they knock out District One, Gloss and Cashmere go home. It’s over, and all you have to worry about is the District Two tributes. For the first time in a very long time, District One won’t survive past the first day. 

It doesn’t work out like that, Marsh sends a harsh kick to her leg and she crumples. He and Annie regroup, and the two of them take off running towards the dam, the backpack bouncing on Annie’s back, Marsh tightly holding onto his favorite weapon. Annie now has the short blade to use.

“Okay.” you breathe, because it could be worse. 

The village is going to be a slaughter, so you don’t blame them for running towards the dam. They just need to find another place to stay soon, and hope that the careers don’t come towards them for revenge.

“Congrats.” Gloss has got a smile on his face, clapping a hand on your shoulder.

“Thanks, I guess. One more tribute and you get sent home.” you raise your eyebrows at him.

He rolls his eyes, “They’ll have to try really hard to get that to happen.”

“Anything is possible!” you cheer.

The bloodbath lasted about twenty minutes, even if it didn’t feel like it. The main career group has three left; two girls and one boy. Annie and Marsh are still very much alive, taking camp by the dam. The total bloodbath deaths is eight. Districts Eleven and Twelve are gone; Parry, Seeder and Haymitch are going home.

They’re nowhere to be seen, which you can’t really blame them for. Haymitch is the only victor in his district, and Parry won ten years ago so he replaced Chaff when it comes to mentoring. After a long streak of losing, you’re sure that you’d find yourself holed up in the apartment too. Why bother showing up in the betting room if you know your tributes won’t make it past the first day?

Although, District Eleven typically has their tributes last a while longer. But you guess it’s different this year since both of their tributes ran into the cornucopia on the assumption that they’d make it out alive. At this point, no tributes make it out alive unless they’re very good at fighting or they can slip between fingers.

You take a look at the betting board to see that the dead tributes are greyed out since they’re impossible to bet on. Everyone else who’s still alive have had their odds increase slightly. Now that the gamemakers have seen survival and fighting skills come alive, they can determine how the rest of the games are going to go much better.

The girl from One has increased to a 4-1, the other two careers stay the same. Annie has gone from an 8-1 to a 6-1, Marsh stays the same. Killing the career boy has done her good. Your two tributes will have sponsors around the corner in no time. You think that Finnick will be excited to hear this.

On screen, the careers gather what they need and air out of the cornucopia, heading towards the village, as predicted. For a second, there’s a disagreement, as the girl from One wants to head after Annie and Marsh to take care of them before they become a serious problem, but the other two vote against her, so she’s stuck going towards the village.

Annie and Marsh aren’t the only two who went towards the dam, there’s about three to four others who are there too. Still, the majority went straight for the village, which could very well be because it’ll give them cover from any of the elements, but you can’t imagine that there’s any sort of water source. The gamemakers like to keep the sources to a minimum and in one spot to make sure that the tributes come across each other on refills.

With the bloodbath being over, you can breathe. You, Gloss and Wade take a seat on a couch nearby, with you and Gloss being pressed against the arms, and Wade being sat in the middle. You’d say that it’s crowded, Gloss and Wade aren’t the smallest guys to exist, but there’s still enough breathing room between all of you.

You tap your fingers against the arm of the chair, watching as the cameras all split into groups. Annie and Marsh being one, still running into the woods to put as much distance between them and the cornucopia as possible. The second team of tributes being District Seven, as they’re working together this year, heading towards the left, away from the stream of water that Annie and Marsh are unintentionally going to come across.

The other two tributes by the dam are the girl from Eight and the boy from Five, scattered in their own special way, but not shown individually on screen. They’re not as important, it looks like the gamemakers are focusing on alliances at the moment. Next up are the careers, taking their time with making their way down and over the grassy hills. They’re digging through their backpacks and laughing about something.

There’s no alliance in the village at all. After a few more seconds of glimpses of the alliance tributes, it’s switched to individual. From what you’re able to see, the village is pretty big. At least six tributes are scattered inside of houses or making their way as deep inside as possible. As far as the forest goes, two people are wandering around. There’s only one tribute that you can’t decide where they are because of the way she’s cleverly placed herself.

The bloodbath canons begin to go off now, there’s a series of different reactions. Eight deaths in the bloodbath isn’t even that uncommon, the most you’ve probably seen before is twelve. Hell, in your games you think that there were nine total. Typically, the tributes have enough common sense to save themselves right off the bat.

“What do you think the dam’s about?” Gloss suddenly asks.

Your eyes slowly land on him to see that he’s waiting on you and Wade. Wade shrugs his shoulders, not knowing what to say. They don’t know? How can they not know? You thought that the dam was pretty straight forward. Maybe they weren’t standing in front of the tv close enough to see the cracks.

A part of you wants to tell them what your predictions are, but you bite your tongue and shrug too. In the past, mentors have been able to send secret messages to tributes. It happened in your games, it’s happened in others, and you’ve even sent a couple when it was direly needed. So telling them could backfire in your face.

Even if you’re friends with them, sometimes you can’t trust to give others certain information. It’s so risky, knowing that the other mentor can easily pass off the information. Especially during the initial week inside of the Capitol. The tributes are at your fingertips.

It’s why you resort to being mysterious most of the time. While your mentor friends have nothing to hide because they put their plans out in the open from the start—because you all know that it’s no secret that the careers are powerhouses. You rely on the element of surprise to get you through literally everything.

The mentors can’t tell their tributes what your opinion is if you don’t give one. They can’t tell them that you’re sure your tributes are absolutely deadly and pose one of the biggest threats in the arena this year. They have to rely on past experiences to make predictions, but even then, sometimes districts manage to pull surprises out of nowhere.

The clock hits the first hour mark, by then the careers have made it to the village. Already beginning to weave their way in and out of houses. They’re not exactly quiet, so if a tribute hears them coming, they’ll easily be able to hide before the career gets to them.

Well, that’s what you think. However, every time a tribute is shown individually, you see that there’s nothing to hide behind. There’s no doors, and if there are, they’re broken or falling apart from years with no use. It’s like a terrifying game of hide and seek, but there’s hardly hiding. It’s a game of skill and luck now. 

Luck that you won’t get found or your house won’t get chosen. That the career will come just close enough but turn their back at the last second when they decide that a place is clear. But it’s skill, testing the careers senses. Seeing if they properly know how to clear an area completely of tributes.

Just like how luck wasn’t on the side of these tributes when their names got chosen, it’s not on their side when it comes to hiding in plain sight, either. One by one, they’re all found.

The first one is the girl from Five, pressed tightly against the wall, holding her breath with tears slowly coming to her eyes. You can practically hear her chanting in her head, “Please don’t find me, please don’t fine me—“

The girl from One rounds the corner, without a single hesitation, she shoves the sword through the other girls’ stomach before the girl can defend herself. The sword pins the girl to the wall, blood spilling out of her stomach. Five has her mouth open in shock, eyes locked on the weapon, fingers fumbling to touch it.

One looks pleased, a smile creeping onto her face. For a moment, you can see Cashmere in her. The blonde hair, the green eyes, they all look the same in District One. All the same form of deadly, and they pull sponsors without even having to try because of their good looks. But everything comes at a price, and Cashmere was no exception.

Five doesn’t have a chance to plead, One pulls out her knife and finishes the job. A canon goes off, another teenager greyed out on the betting board. Nine dead. A sick feeling in your stomach tells you that this is going to be another bloodbath.

The boys work together, taking out the bigger houses since the girl wanted to go it alone. They’ll clear one, making sure to make it known, but stick inside of the house for a second to wait to see if they can hear movement. When they’re absolutely sure there’s none, they move on.

This plan doesn’t work initially, they get passed at least three houses before they hear a noise. Had the boy just waited a couple of seconds more, they wouldn’t have been able to hear his footsteps as he creeped down the loud stairs, giving away his position.

With the Ten boy dead, the District Ten mentors are going home. Which you’re sure is a bummer for them, knowing that they’ve been doing pretty good lately when it comes to victors. They’ve had two in the past ten years, which is a good improvement from the gap that they had before.

In the next house that the boys come across is a girl, the gamemakers give no indication on district. And you’re not sure that it matters because she’s dead within the first minute they search the house. The hiding spot wasn’t that bad, but when there’s two searching, more spots are bound to be discovered. 

District Three girl gets greyed out on the board. There’s three people still hiding inside of the village, the boys from Nine, Three and Six. All in different places, and the only one that seems to be the furthest is Six, and you can take a pretty big guess as to why.

His district is power. They’re the main producer for it for everyone, and it wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t for the gigantic dam that they have. It’s hydroelectricity, the water passes through the dam, turns some gears and it fuels the Capitol and a portion of the other districts. It makes sense that he would be the one that would try and get away as far as possible. 

It means that he knows something that the rest of them don’t. However, you have that much figured out. The dam is the danger here, but he must know the mechanics behind it. Why it’s going to fall apart, what event can set it off, how far it’s going to reach when it does. He’s so far away from the dam at this point, miles away from the cornucopia, and he still keeps moving.

It just means that the blast radius of the dam is going to wipe out a large berth of things. Trees, potentially the cornucopia, definitely the houses in the village. And that’s to name a few. There’s no telling what can be uprooted with the force of the water. You’re just curious how anyone will survive it.

Another tribute gets found, it’s the boy from Nine. The careers have regrouped now, all in different forms of bloody. You grit your teeth and try not to gag, remembering the smell of blood, and the feeling of the thickness on your skin. It’s not a pretty feeling, and you can’t shake it, not even all these years later.

The careers agree to stop looking for tributes and start for water instead. Which is a good sign for the two tributes left in the village--potentially three. But as for everyone else in the trees, it’s not as good. You’re sure that Annie and Marsh are far away enough from the stream of water that’s coming out of the dam at the moment, but there’s no way to tell.

Actually, it probably doesn’t even matter that they’re far away from the stream of water, considering that no one knows that it actually exists, except for the mentors. Unless someone went and opened their mouth and gave it away, which you wouldn’t be surprised about. You’re all a bunch of cheats and liars, at this point. There’s no use denying it.

The careers don’t even start to head towards the dam anyway, so that eliminates most of the worry. With the interest in them gone, it’s back to the remaining tributes inside of the arena. It’s been nearly three hours and already half of the competition is gone. When you said that it wouldn’t last more than a week and a half, you weren’t thinking that it would be because of this. You thought it would be the dam.

Everyone loves a good plot twist though, right? Right?

You get up from the couch to stretch your legs, figuring that the worst of the first day is over. It’s one in the afternoon, Annie and Marsh can clearly take care of themselves when it comes to fighting off other tributes. Their main worry at the moment is probably finding water and setting up camp somewhere.

If they were to just head right, towards the stream, they should come upon that shack uphill. It’s risky, staying that close to the dam but they don’t really have much of a choice unless they want to stay the night out in the open. At least with a shack they have shelter and they’re hidden. If someone comes upon it, they’ll have the upper hand.

“Alright, I think I might go back to the Four apartment to eat lunch. Don’t know if I’ll be down here later.” you say, looking at Wade and Gloss.

“And narrowly miss your two best friends?” Gloss asks.

“I have days to see them, I’m not really that worried. Plus, last night was enough to fuel me for the next decade. You’re lucky if I don’t start pretending I don’t know your four altogether.”

“Haha.” Gloss rolls his eyes, but gets to his feet.

He gives you a one-armed hug, you pat his back slightly. Wade isn’t much for physical contact in the first place, so he holds out his hand as a supplement. You slap it, looking at Gloss, “Sorry about your tribute.”

“He was a moron anyway.”

“I’ll see you later then--” you go to turn towards the door but find that you’re face to face with a Capitol woman, dressed in bright blue with accents of black. You have to take a step back so that you’re not breathing the same air as her, giving her a polite smile, “Hello.”

“Are you Annie’s mentor?” she asks.

Three hours in, and Annie’s already going to get a sponsor. It’s probably healing cream for the cuts she endured when fighting the One boy. You have to admit, if she’s completely healed, she’ll be able to move quicker and won’t have to worry about using medical stuff. The blades on the knives and swords are so sharp, especially when they haven’t been used before. Pick your toughest material and it could move through it like cloth.

Your eyes find Annie and Marsh on screen to see that they’re taking a break, going through the stuff in their backpack. Now would be a good time to do it before they get ahead of themselves. You give the Capitol woman a bigger smile, “Yes, are you interested in sponsoring?”

The whole process only takes a few minutes. You and her discuss what exactly she’s looking for, and what the ranges of the healing cream will have. It’s so extremely dirt cheap because it’s the beginning of the games, only three hours in. The longer the games go on, the more prices will be amped up. What could buy you an entire feast on the first day will only get you a loaf of bread later on, maybe not even that.

The woman lets you know that the main reason for deciding to go through with this is because of Annie’s manners on stage. That she can’t believe that Annie is only eighteen and acts like she’s been on this earth for much longer. You have to agree, Annie has her moments where she’s wiser than the rest of you. But it’s mainly because she’s been forced to grow up quicker, thanks to the boarding school.

When it comes to the note, you type in, “Right with you.”

It’s not the best when it comes to hinting at where to go, but you send it and watch it get approved. The first sponsor gift of the Seventieth Hunger Games, and it’s going to your tributes. One last time, you thank the woman and assure her that Annie is very grateful for her compassion.

Now you can’t leave just yet, and have to wait as it slowly comes down to them. You stand by Gloss and Wade, listening to the chiming of the gift. When it comes into earshot of Annie and Marsh, they immediately perk up, searching the trees. 

“Found it!” Annie calls, pointing it out while getting to her feet. The cuts don’t even seem to phase her all that much, so it’s partially a waste of money but at least they’ll be able to use it later on if the need arises.

Annie catches the silver gift in her hands, rejoining Marsh as she pops it open. You didn’t really give them any instructions on how to apply it, they’ll have common sense not to use the whole tube, you think. They read over the words to themselves in their head first, before Annie is smiling fondly.

“That’s very sweet.” Annie says, “(Y/n)’s encouraging us as always.”

No, that’s not it. You’re not worried about the misinterpretation, especially not after the knowing look they give each other. Annie folds the paper and places it in her breast pocket, not even reading it out loud for everyone to know. It’s their own choice, and it’s probably a good one at any rate.

Annie has Marsh apply the cream while she tries not to look like she’s in too much pain. You know that it’s not easy having people dig their fingers in your wounds. Fuck, you might have initially blacked out after that bear mutt attack, but you were still half awake. Every single time they went a little too deep or were a little too harsh, you were jolted awake. You’re fairly surprised that you still remember it. It was almost like a fever dream.

Annie and Marsh take a couple more minutes relaxing, but the audio cuts on their part to give the District Seven tributes a chance at the spotlight. It doesn’t mean that you’re not able to see your tributes, though. You’re able to watch them motion and flesh out a plan. It’s good to see that they get along so well, makes for a strong alliance.

Annie motions about heading towards the wall, Marsh’s face begins to harden up. Annie changes to pointing, jabs her thumb in the direction of the cornucopia. Marsh says something, you think you make out the word ‘water’. Annie then holds her arm out to the right, taps the pocket on her chest, and then it seems like they have a plan. They pack up, and head towards the right.

And with that, you go to leave because it’s finally your window. But Cashmere and Enobaria come through the door, bearing a basket and big smiles, “Good afternoon! How’s our tributes doing?”

“Is that food?” you ask, Cashmere hands over the basket, and when you look inside, there’s cold cut sandwiches and flavored bubble water. It really looks like you won’t be leaving here anytime soon.

You all pick your regular back table, that’s perfectly out of earshot of other mentors and Capitol citizens, but you’re still able to see the line odds and the screen with the tributes. They lay out the food, you nibble on your sandwich while Cashmere and Enobaria ask questions and Gloss and Wade give up information.

“Bloodbath knocked out eight tributes.” Wade says, playing with the bubbly water cap, “Which includes Eleven and Twelve.”

“Figures, they’re not very good fighters anyway.” Enobaria says, “Didn’t Eleven have the seventeen year-old girl?”

“She only scored a six so it’s not like she was anything special.” Cashmere has her eyes on Gloss, slowly squinting at him, “What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything.” Gloss makes a face and shrugs. There goes whatever cover he was trying to grasp at.

Cashmere stares at him for a second longer before turning around and looking at the line odds. It doesn’t take long to find, the boy is the first tribute on the left row. She doesn’t even have to look for it. The name is greyed out, of course, Cashmere turns back to Gloss.

“When did Colt die?” she asks.

“The bloodbath.” Gloss says, leaning his head against his hand now, “He went after Annie--(Y/n)’s tribute. He didn’t even stand a chance.”

Cashmere raises her eyebrows, and then looks at you, “Seriously? What happened?”

Conversation launches, you, Gloss and Wade do your best to tell them all the details. Starting from the bloodbath, who’s where in the arena, to the village. They’re not all that surprised to hear that their career pack got an additional four kills, the careers go hunting after the bloodbath to try and get as many as possible. But it’s a shock to know that half the tributes are gone.

After bloodbaths, careers get one--maybe two--kills. And it normally doesn’t happen immediately after the bloodbath, either. It’s sometime during the night because it’s easiest to spot the fires. Hardly ever is there a second slaughter immediately after the first. Because of this, you don’t think that they’re going to have a feast at the cornucopia this year. There won’t be enough tributes to make it worth it.

Annie and Marsh come across water, fill the jugs and put iodine to clean the water. They wander up a little further and find the shack. Just like that, they can call it a day since they’ve already got enough food to last them two days. All they have to do now is set up a plan to keep the food coming.

The careers come across basically a small clear pond. The last time you drank from a pond, you came down with Typhoid fever, really fun times. The Capitol was a bitch for making that dirty water clear to drink from, but the normally ideal water a fucking trick. You are so lucky that the Capitol had the medicine to make sure that the effects weren’t long-term. Otherwise, who knows what you’d be living with right now?

The betting room starts to clear out in the evening because it’s supper time for all of them. You stick around with the pack for a little while longer, remarking that you’re all surprised that Finnick didn’t show up at all, even with all the time he had. Once you’re sure that your tributes can survive the night, you’re bidding goodbyes.

It feels good to walk back to the apartment and to stretch your legs after going between sitting and standing. Sitting at the table already is Elysia, she looks happy to see you, “Welcome back.”

“Feels good to be back up here.” you laugh, tying your hair up, “Have you seen Finnick at all? He didn’t come by at all.”

Elysia shakes her head, “I went to get him for dinner and the rooms empty.”

“Huh,” you let out, sitting at the table.

It's odd, being here with only Elysia again. Makes your stomach churn slightly, actually. No tributes, no Finnick, only you in the betting room… Why do you have a feeling that this isn’t a coincidence?

You said that you’d give Finnick today. The first day isn’t the busiest, it’s the days that follow, when the heat starts to get turned up and the stakes rise. Then the tributes start getting hurt, requiring more to sustain whatever lifestyle they’ve built for themselves. It’s going to be impossible to go to the cornucopia to refill on goods when the entire thing is in a field. What are you going to do? Hide in the grass?

You and Elysia eat dinner, quietly chatting about what you think’s going to happen. In the end, it’s late and you should call it a night. But when you reach your room, hand on the doorknob, something tells you that you shouldn’t go to bed just yet. It’s a gut reaction, you look over towards Finnick’s room. It’s an invasion of privacy.

But there have been plenty of times before where Finnick has come into your space without permission, right? You sigh, kick off your shoes by your door, and then go into Finnick’s room. It’s dark and quiet and smells like perfumed fabric softener. You don’t bother with turning on the lights, Elysia already said that he wasn’t in here. 

You make yourself at home, tossing a pillow onto the hammock and using it to support your head and not get your hair stuck in the rope. You stare and watch and wait for a while, playing today over in your head. You don’t think that there’s a single thing you would have done differently. Annie and Marsh were smart to run towards the dam, and Annie knocked out a whole career while she was at it.

However, they also proved that they were a couple to keep an eye on. The girl from One is smart enough to see it like that, to want to go ahead and go after them. On one hand, it’s a good thing that the boys didn’t listen to her. Your tributes are still alive, in a house for the night. But on the other hand, four other tributes died because of it.

But then again, it was only a matter of time. You saw all of their deaths coming, and so did every other mentor in that room. None of you could have known that on the other side of the dam would be a village. What use is it to warn your tributes if they’re just going to be fucked either way?

Oh hey, there’s going to be a cracked dam inside of the arena this year. If you can, I’d probably steer clear of it. The most it seems to provide is a steady stream of water, so at least you have that! Also, I wouldn’t worry much because the dam looked pretty damn small when I got to see it.

What use would that have done? It would have been a fucking culture shock, to think that you’d be ahead of the games for once. Like, “Okay, don’t head toward the dam, use it as a last resort. Worse comes to worse and you can maybe outrun the water.” until you’re face to face with a concrete wall that’s literally a mile taller than you, and the only place to go is a field out in the open and a village that provides the only shelter.

If there was any time to facepalm, it would be now. Hell, even your warning at agility training is going to do fucking nothing. You originally thought that it would come in hand to hop from rock to hill or tree root or something, but that’s going to be hard to do in the grassy field. Yes, let’s hop from grass blade to grass blade.

So fucking stupid, all of this.

You sit there fuming for a little while longer, shaking your head, rolling your eyes and gritting your teeth. You wonder if any of the other mentors have seens something like this before. Wait, that’s stupid. Of course there’s been an arena before this that has been the biggest April fool’s prank of all. Haymitch Abernathy had to live in a hell disguised as a paradise. Yes, you think that might be the worst arena you’ve ever seen. And he had forty-seven other tributes to worry about on top of the killer squirrels.

You snort, but it’s really not all that funny.

The room door opens, you squint just before the lights are flickered on. Finnick stands in the doorway, wearing a white button down shirt and nice black slacks. A part of you wonders where he’s been all night to need to dress as nicely as this. His… job… for the lack of a better word, doesn’t start until after dinner, usually.

And supposedly, he’s been gone all day!

Finnick doesn’t seem to see you at first. You grin to yourself like a child, “Boo.”

He jumps, a startled sound escaping him, it sounds like a yelp. He turns with wide eyes, staring at you. You laugh to yourself, “What the fuck? How long have you been here for?” he presses his hand against his chest, “Gonna give me fucking war flashbacks.”

“Been here since dinner, which was…” you trail off, looking at the time, “About four hours ago, apparently.”

“Don’t you have anything better to do? Like watch the arena?” Finnick slips off his shoes and socks, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

“I did that all day, I actually waited here to tell you that it’s your turn.” 

His eyes land on you, “To what?”

“Watch the tributes, sit in the betting room until I relieve you.”

His face twists, “Nice choice of words.” 

You roll your eyes, “You owe me this much. I’ll give you a quick rundown about what happened--”

“I already know.”

You throw the pillow at him, “Perfect! You can put your shirt back on and go downstairs!”

He looks at you, “(Y/n), I’m tired.”

“I’ve been up since eight this morning.” you give him a smile, “It’s now nearly midnight. I think you can sit in the betting room for a couple of hours.”

“A couple is two.” Finnick says, “You’re asking me to sit in there for ten.”

“Which is almost half of what I did today! It’s only fair!”

He stares at you. He doesn’t look tired on the outside. In fact, it looks like he just woke up a couple of hours ago. If he were tired, he’d be more sluggish, and you’d know because you’ve been around him for years now. And the last week has shown you what it’s like to actually interact with him when he’s had tough days and nights.

Today is neither of them for him.

“Okay.” Finnick agrees.

“Okay?” you raise your eyebrows, “Sweet. I’ll be up at seven and down there at eight to switch places, then.”

Finnick starts buttoning his shirt back, you give him a cheeky smile, getting off the hammock and heading towards the door. You’re about to leave, but then you stop and turn towards him.

“If I get down there tomorrow morning and you’re nowhere to be seen, you’re not going to like what happens.” there’s no smile, the words are dead cold. Finnick stares at you, fingers frozen in place, “I can promise you that. Goodnight.”

--

REDAMANCY IS PART 2 OF A TRILOGY //MASTERLIST//

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[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 29

Chapter Selection

Two hours later I was getting to the point where I was losing some memory. It took so long because I was drinking more fruity drinks than hard liquor.

I glanced around the table and I found myself staring face to face with Hotch. I didn't notice but everyone was doing their own thing.

"Are you okay?", Hotch asked, trying to make conversation. "Yeah I'm just... you know what, never mind." I said, sliding out from the booth.

"Where are you going?", I sighed.

"Somewhere else Hotch, I can't right now", I walked— more like hobbled over to the dance floor and cozied up to the first guy I saw.

"Hey", the guy said I put my finger on his lips. A signal not to talk and he took it. Not saying a word, we were just in the moment.

My back was against his chest and I was grinding into him. Hotch looked over in his tipsy haze, he saw me with the man. He could tell I wasn't okay, that something was bothering me.

Whether we were together or not he wanted me to be happy. 

But seeing the sight in front of him made him upset and angry. 

For a second the man's hands were rising up from my hips to my waist. It felt like they got replaced after they disappeared. When they appeared again they were larger, turning around there he was. 

"Talk to me." He pleaded. 

"I don't wanna talk." My hands went around his neck, trying to look normal. Everything had slowed down around us.

"Why not?", sadness was written all over his face. I didn't owe him anything but I felt like I owed him everything. 

I didn't need to talk to him but he's done so much for me. 

"Because Hotch, I fucking hurt. I just—", I flicked my eyes down to his lips then back to his eyes. He saw the sudden change in my gaze and against his better judgement his hand slid into my hair. He pushed me towards his lips and he captured mine. 

I wanted to keep going, the way we moved against each other made everything okay for a while. 

Then the feeling dissipated and reality crept in. I was the first to pull away and my hand left his cheek and rested on his chest pushing him away. 

"Why'd you do that?", he stared at me blankly. He had no idea why he did it, not having an answer for me. 

"I don't know", he whispered and over the loud music I almost missed it. "I need to get home", I walked away from him. 

Aaron stood there watching me move farther from him. I eventually disappeared from his vision, I went outside and called a cab. 

Getting in I went home, leaving the team behind. 

___________________

Three months later 

We had pretended like the kiss never happened, it was a moment of weakness and honestly I didn't regret it. I had lunch with Emily later in the morning. 

It was 9AM and I was waiting for the time to roll around. I'd need to get dressed, I was still moping around, only ever having energy to go to work and maybe a few other things

The rest of my time went to working out and trying to stay alive and well. I heard my phone vibrating on the table, I leaned forwards and picked it up. "Hello", I asked. 

"Y/n something came up later this afternoon can we actually do breakfast instead." I glanced over at the food I had just eaten. 

"Yeah that's fine, just tell me where", she told me the time to meet her and I flipped the blanket off my body. Getting a cold rush all over causing goosebumps to erupt on my skin. 

I was always cold, no matter how hot it was. That was something Hotch would help me with, my own personal heater...

I walked down the hallway and into my room, having half an hour to get there, I wasn't in a rush. The restaurant was a few minutes away.

"What to wear?", I mumbled to myself and settled with a pair of light blue jeans, a tank top and a grey sweater. 

Locking the door I made my way down to the car, getting in and I drove to the restaurant. While going inside I didn't see anyone but a single man sitting alone at a table. I took a seat across the room and waited for Emily or the waiter.

I felt someone staring at me then sensing someone standing over me

I glanced down and saw their feet, "Are you y/n?"  I put down the menu and crossed my arms, subconsciously protecting myself. 

"Yes", he took the seat in front of me and made himself comfortable. 

"I'm sorry but, do I know you?" He looked confused. He had dirty blonde hair and a light grey t-shirt. Some wash blue jeans, we actually almost matched. His blue eyes were piercing into mine. "I'm Steven." 

In no time in my entire life did I know a Steven. The man sitting with me was a complete stranger. When I didn't say anything he felt the need to explain the situation further. 

"Emily set this up, she told me to meet you here." 

That sly bitch. I wasn't mad at her but I wish she would've told me before getting completely set up. Emily noticed I was almost always on autopilot and she wanted to help. 

I never went out with her when it came to dates because I was still stuck one the one person I couldn't get over. 

Although she didn't know that, I needed to get over him in my own time. 

He was reading the situation, my clueless state, "Emily— she didn't tell you this was a date... did she?" I pulled my lips into a line and looked back down at the table. "Yeah she uh... didn't exactly do that." 

"You know what if it's too weird, I can go", something in my mind told me to tell him to stay. That part of my body was hoping this would make the pain go away. 

"Stay, you already took the time out of your day and we can make Em happy for once", I smiled lightly at the late words. 

He grinned and sat down in the seat he was in previously. 

"So, what do you do? Em didn't tell me much about you. She told me to just trust her." That did seem like her, she was the person behind the curtain pulling all of the strings. 

I took a deep breath, "Around I wanna day nine months ago I started working at the BAU in the FBI. It all happened kind of quick but I'm really enjoying it." 

The waiter came over briefly and took both of our orders. I gestured for him to speak, "Currently I'm working over at Interpol in the DC office, I worked with Emily a few years ago." 

"How is it over there", he went on about how the job made him happy. That he was excited to have something new almost every day and the cases were always interesting. 

We were served breakfast and spent the entire time talking. His presence was comforting, someone that wasn't just trying to get into my pants.

Even though Morgan and Reid weren't either, something kept me away from being close with them. 

Steven talked about his experiences in the field and even with my limited knowledge we exchanged stories. 

The waiter came over and gave me the check, "I'll pay for it." He took the check and I reached over and slid the paper back in front of me. 

"It's the least I can do, seeing as this was kind of sprung onto you." I appreciated the offer but I really didn't need people paying for me, let alone someone I just met. 

"We can split it", he smiled at me. He liked that I could take care of myself, even when the offer presented itself I still wanted to pay. 

A small gesture but it didn't go unnoticed. As we stood up we went to leave the restaurant, "I can take you home if you want?" 

"It's fine, I drove but thank you." Steven took the liberty of walking me to my car, "We should do this again.

Within those few seconds I had a small battle, I didn't mind him but I wasn't sure if I was ready. "That'd be nice."

I got into my car and drove home, as he saw me drive away he realized he didn't get my number. 

He would go to call Emily later that day and get my number, he did want to see me again.

.................................

Permanent taglist : @oreogutz @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @errorcosplay67 @qtip-blog @aberrant-annie 

[maxinaptak]

(AoT/SNK) Not So Gentle Giant: Bertholdt X Abused!Reader

You walked through the halls of Shiganshina High with your head down, fearful thoughts running through your head of what he might do to you when you got home. You ran into someone by accident and fell to the floor. Fear gripped your being as your brain thought of the worst possible things the person could do to you, things like he did.

“Oh my god, I'm so sorry!” A panicked, familiar voice said from above you.

You opened your eyes and looked up at the tall, blushing male looking down at you with worried eyes. You smiled lightly at your friend.

“Bertholdt, don’t look so worried.” You said, taking his outstretched hand and letting him pull you up.

“I just ran into you,” he exclaimed, dusting you off, “And knocked you to the floor!”

“In your defense, I wasn’t looking where I was going either.” You said, shrugging lightly.

He shrugged and your phone suddenly began to ring.

“Hang on a minute.” You said, pulling it out and taking a step away from him.

You looked at the caller ID and gulped.

“H-hello…?” You answered nervously.

“When the fuck are you gonna be home tonight?” A venomous voice asked from the other end of line.

You flinched lightly and said, “I-I’m not sure…. School just got out and I ran into a friend….”

“Well then don’t bother coming home tonight. I got some friends coming over and I don’t want you getting in the fucking way.”

You flinched again and mumbled a response before hanging up.

“________?”

You jumped at the sound of Bertholdt’s voice. You forgot he was there. You turned to face him and forced a smile so he wouldn’t know anything was wrong.

He smiled at you knowingly and said, “Need a place to stay tonight?”

Your shoulders dropped and you sighed, nodding your head. He always knew what was going on, no matter what. You hated it, but at the same time it was a good thing. He was the only one who knew what was going on with your brother.

“Come on.” He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

He led you out to his car and you drove to his house. He told his parents that your brother was going out of town for the weekend again and you needed a place to stay, so they were perfectly fine with it. It was the same thing you told them every time you stayed the night. You went up to Bertholdt’s room and lied down on his bed.

“Why don’t you do something about him?” He suddenly asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Because there’s nothing I can do….” You mumbled.

He frowned and said, “Then why don’t you get help?”

“Because,” you sighed, rolling over to face him where he sat, “I’m scared….”

He sighed and said, “________ if you don’t do anything, he’s just going to keep hurting you….”

Gentle fingers pushed your shirt up slightly and ran along the several bruises littered across your (s/c) skin. You sighed yourself and closed your (e/c) eyes and hugged his leg. The male’s long, slender fingers moved from your abdomen to your hair, running through the (h /l), (h/c) strands. He was always so gentle with you.

“My very own gentle giant….” You whispered, nuzzling into him.

“Hm?” He asked, not quite hearing you.

You giggled and said, “You’re my gentle giant.”

He smiled and stroked your hair again.

“Thanks for being here for me Dandelion.” You mumble quietly.

Bertholdt chuckled quietly at the nickname you and your friend Annie had given him when you were younger.

“I’ll always be here for you,” he whispered, “I promise.”

You smiled and closed your eyes again, drifting off to sleep.

As soon as ________ had drifted off to sleep, Bertholdt’s smile melted away. He hated her brother and what he was doing to her. He wanted to do something to stop him but he didn’t know what he could do. He looked down at the girl asleep on his lap and set his mind. He was going to do something for the girl he loved.

You sighed as you sat in your room a few days later, curled up on your bed. You knew your brother was going to be home soon and he seemed to be in an extremely bad mood on phone when he had called. You had texted Bertl about it, but he hadn’t responded, which wasn’t like him. You flinched as you heard the front door slam open, and you pulled your blankets over your head, trying to disappear.

“________, where the fuck are you?!” Your brother’s angry voice rang out.

You flinched again and slowly crawled out of your bed. You reluctantly walked out of your room and down the stairs to where your seething brother stood. As soon as you were within his reach, his fist collided with your face. You fell to the floor, no sound leaving your lips as you hit the wooden boards. Tears clouded your (e/c) eyes and you closed them, waiting for the next hit to come. But before it did, the front door flew open and someone tackled your brother to the floor.

“Get the fuck away from her!”

Your eyes flew open and you scrambled to your feet, not wanting to believe what your ears had just heard. But your eyes were confirming what your ears had told you.

“Bertholdt?!” You exclaimed, staring with wide eyes at the two males throwing punches on the floor.

The fighting males paid you no attention as they both began yelling things at each other.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Your brother yelled, punching Bertholdt in the shoulder.

“Someone who cares about ________ a lot,” Bertholdt retorted, landing a blow on your brother’s jaw, “Who the fuck do you think you are to treat her like that?! What gives you the right?!”

You stood there frozen in shock, watching them roll around on the floor punching each other. You’d never heard Bertholdt use language like this before and you’d defiantly never seen him fight anyone before. Your brother got a good hit in across Bertholdt’s jaw, and it snapped you out of your daze.

“Stop!!” You screamed, rushing forward.

You grabbed onto Bertholdt's arm and pulled him off of your brother. Your brother smirked and Bertholdt was about to object when you kicked your brother in the head, rather hard, effectively knocking him out. You breathed out a heavy breath and turned to a shocked Bertholdt.

“What were you thinking,” you exclaimed, grabbing his shirt in both of your hands, “You know how dangerous he is! You got yourself hurt, and you could have gotten yourself killed!”

Tears were slowly making their way down your cheeks as you yelled at him and your breathing was shaky. Bertholdt stared down at you for a minute before slowly wrapping his arms around your smaller form, bringing you to his body in a gentle, but strong grip.

“Sorry…,” he mumbled into your hair, “But I couldn’t let him hurt you anymore….”

He placed a soft kiss to your forehead and you buried your face in his chest.

“I love you Dandelion….” You whispered, a blush gracing your (s/c) cheeks.

Bertholdt’s arms tightened around you and he said, “I love you too ________.”

He tilted your chin up and placed a chaste kiss to your lips. You smiled against his lips, but curtly pulled away when you heard a groan from the floor.

You frowned and said, “What do we do about him?”

Bertholdt pulled his phone out and said, “Simple.”

He dialed a number and had a short conversation, all with your confused eyes on him. Even when he had hung up he didn’t tell you who he had called. A few minutes later, you heard sirens and realized he had called the police.

“Nice.” You said, smiling up at him.

He smiled back at you and gave you a little kiss.

You smirked a little and looked at him again as you said, “Maybe you aren’t so gentle after all.”

“Now this is the life.” You said, lounging on your shared bed.

It had been a year and a half since you got your brother arrested, and you and Berholdt had since graduated. You now lived with your boyfriend in a small apartment not too far from the community college you were both attending.

Bertholdt snorted and flopped down onto the bed beside you. He was sweating extra, alerting you to the thoughts running through his head. You smirked and rolled over on top of him.

“Ne, Bertl,” you purred in his ear, “I’m in the mood for my not so gentle giant…. Mind complying?”

You pulled back slightly to look him in the eyes, seeing that his brown eyes were clouded with a very familiar (and favorited) emotion: lust. You suddenly found yourself on your back beneath your (not so) gentle giant, your shirt already missing. He was harshly nipping and sucking at your neck and chest while his hands wandered the rest of your expanses. You moaned, and thanked god for your not so gentle giant.

[ghosttotheparty]

when everything falls into place and youre finally within reach

Abed takes another deep breath, blinking at himself in the mirror. His fingers rub on the fabric of his hoodie, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth over the subtle ribbing on the cuffs of the sleeves. Sleeves that belong to his hoodie, not Troy’s, though the hoodie he wore yesterday was Troy’s. And the day before. And the day before. And most of the days before that too. He knows Jeff and the others noticed, but he appreciates them not saying anything, not pointing it out. 

He also knows it must have been hard for Britta to not say anything, to not use her master psychology skills to talk about the effect his missing Troy has had on him. (If she did talk about it, it would take hours. If she wrote a thesis on his missing Troy it would be encyclopaedia length. Pages and pages and pages and pages about him and the damn hoodies, him and the photos on the walls, the photos he took with him to L.A. for a year and then took back, because he couldn’t handle being away from a place Troy had called home.) 

He’s counted the days. And the hours. 

He spent four hundred seventy days, twenty hours, and twenty-four minutes in L.A. 

It didn’t feel like home for a second. 

He does miss it on occasion, just specific things. The park near his apartment building that has geese. The water pressure in his shower. The nice old lady that worked at the cafe, that always handed him his coffee with a smile. But he doesn’t want to move back. It was noisy. There were always more people than he anticipated, especially at the grocery store. He ended up buying earplugs to use on his grocery runs, to muffle out the radio, the people talking and laughing, the sounds of cards squealing on the tile floors and bumping into each other, the electric buzzing of the lights and refrigerators. Overwhelming. 

And it’s been one thousand, seven-hundred, thirty-seven days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes since Abed saw Troy last. 

Too long. 

Abed started to ache just a few days after he left, a soft ache in his heart and in his arms. An ache he could only describe as longing, if he had described it to anyone out loud. It’s a persistent ache, and he still feels it as he takes yet another breath, listening to the voices outside the bathroom. Britta and Jeff’s bickering, Annie whining, “You guys…” and Shirley saying “Hands off,” aggressively, presumably to Frankie, who, Abed has discovered, has a propensity to sneak bites of food before it’s ready. 

He feels happy, even with these aches and anxiety, happy that Shirley is back, even just for a visit. Her hugs are warm, and she always smells good, even if the scents are strong and overpowering to Abed. She squeezed him around the middle when they reunited, and he had giggled, letting her sway them back and forth before letting go and letting her pinch his cheeks. 

And he’s happy Annie moved back too. He remembers saying goodbye to her at the airport, hugging and watching, unsure of what to do, as she wiped tears from under her eyes. She had been smiling as she cried, though, which only confused him further. She seemed to understand. “I’m going to miss you, Abed,” she’d said. “Promise you’ll email?” And he’s hooked his pinky around hers, nodding and pulling her into another hug, finally letting go and watching her disappear before finding his way to his gate. She’d squealed loudly when they reunited, much like Shirley, and she’d jumped, tackling him in a hug. 

Abed is startled out of his memories when Frankie calls his name gently from the hallway. 

“Abed? You okay?” 

“Coming!” he calls back, not breaking eye contact with himself, and his mouth twists as he adjusts his hoodie, unzipping it a little, trying to look… at ease. 

His heart hasn’t stopped pounding since this morning, since Britta and Frankie arrived. His therapist (not Britta) says excitement and anxiety often feel the same: racing heart, shaky hands, breathlessness, restlessness. It’s frustrating. Abed knows he should be excited; Troy is coming home for fuck’s sake. Finally.

But as he walks to the kitchen to join the others, he can’t help worrying. 

What if he doesn’t like how Abed redid the apartment? (It’s the same apartment they lived in before Abed went to L.A. It’s different, though; there’s no blanket fort, the photos are rearranged on the walls, the TV is in a different place.) 

What if he doesn’t like Inspector Spacetime anymore? (The thought of it runs a jolt through Abed. He doesn’t know how he would deal with that.) What if he’s just different? Over four and a half years. He must be different. They’ve emailed, of course, and Troy even sent Abed postcards, from Venezuela (Troy said on the back that he finally got the opportunity to use some Spanish), Morocco, France, and Italy (“You would love the pasta here, Abed.”).

Abed forces a smile onto his face as he enters the kitchen, looking from Annie’s beaming face to Shirley’s focused face as she rolls out some dough. Jeff and the others have given up on the whole baking can’t be a personality trait thing. Shirley’s pies are too yummy. Abed looks at Jeff’s face, and Britta’s face, and Frankie’s face, which smiles when their eyes meet. And Chang, who somehow became invited. (Abed thinks it was something like a default invitation.) They all appear to be excited, which just pulls the knot in his stomach tighter. Why is he the only one feeling nervous? Frankie doesn’t even know Troy, shouldn’t she be the nervous one? She’s at a Welcome Home party for a stranger. (Though a part of Abed disagrees. Abed loves Troy, and Abed loves Frankie, so really, they’re a family, even if they’ve never met.) 

“Smells good, Shirley,” he says, leaning against the counter and tucking his hands in his pockets. “What time is it?” he asks Jeff before Shirley can respond. 

“Almost six-thirty.” Jeff takes a sip from his glass of scotch. “He should be here any second.” 

Abed’s stomach takes another dive and he nods as Annie squeals. 

“I’m so excited,” she says, bouncing up and down on her feet. 

“Me too,”  Britta says from where she’s perched on the counter. “I bet he has a ton of stories of crazy adventures and--” 

“He’s been on a boat for four years, Britta,” Jeff interrupts. “Let’s calm down.” 

“Storms, Jeffrey.”

“Yeah, true.” 

There’s a knock at the door, and Abed thinks he might throw up. 

Britta and Annie both scream, and Britta jumps off the counter, stumbling as she lands on the floor, trying desperately to beat Annie to the front door, and Shirley squeals, rushing to rip off her oven mitts and untie her apron, and as Jeff yells, “Trooyyy!” Frankie moves out of the way, pressing herself against a counter as she laughs. Abed hangs back, following Shirley into the living room to watch as the front door opens and--

Cool.

Cool cool cool.

Troy is standing there, grinning with his shoulders hunched, his arms already raised slightly, ready for Annie to leap into, and Abed is sure everybody in the building can hear her high voice exclaim, “Oh my god!” 

And Abed is frozen, watching. Noticing. 

Troy’s hair is longer, tight curls circling his head like a halo, and he has a short beard, scruffy and soft-looking. It’s still Troy. Effortlessly beautiful.

Abed is jostled out of his trance by Shirley, accidentally pushed as she sprints to the door, shoving Britta out of the way to jump on Troy, screaming. 

Frankie steps up next to Abed, and he can feel her eyes on him but he can’t look away, still staring at Troy, and everything in him is crashing together, his heart is beating and beating, and every thought he’s has in the past one thousand, seven-hundred, thirty-seven days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes, every beating and pulsing thought of Troy Troy Troy Troy Troy Troy Troy Troy is standing there in front of him. 

He faintly hears Jeff say something, some teasing comment about how Troy is a real man now that he has a beard, about how Jeff needs to shave so they don’t match, and his eyes catch on Troy’s lips, curving into a bashful smile. Abed’s breath stutters in his throat and he accidentally coughs, trying his best to keep his heart beating because if he doesn’t try he might just fall dead to the floor. 

RIP Abed Nadir

Cause of death: Troy Barnes’s existence

And then Troy is in front of him, and it’s quieter than it’s been in the apartment for hours, and Abed can feel not just Frankie’s eyes on him, but also Shirley’s, and Britta’s, and Annie’s, and Chang’s, and Jeff’s, but none of that matters, because Troy’s eyes are on him too, locked on his, soft and dark and gentle, and Abed doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey, buddy,” Troy says softly, and Abed finally exhales, feeling his heart pound away in his chest. 

“You sailed around the world,” he says, in a more chipper voice than he thought he could, and Troy grins. 

“Yeah, I did.”

“...Awesome.”

And then their hands are slapping together as their other hands hit their own chests, and Troy is giggling and Abed is grinning, and Troy’s hand catches Abed’s pulling him into an embrace. 

And Abed sinks into it. 

His arms wrap around Troy’s neck and Troy’s arms wrap around Abed’s waist, squeezing him and pulling him closer, ignoring everyone else watching them. 

“I missed you so much, Abed,” Troy murmurs, just for Abed to hear, like it’s a secret, and Abed buries his face in Troy’s neck. They sway slightly, and Abed squeezes his eyes shut. 

When they finally pull away, after seconds or minutes or hours, Abed doesn’t know, they both take a breath and smile at each other. Abed staps back, looking behind himself to see Frankie, looking oddly sentimental, and he says, “Oh.” 

He points a finger and says, “Frankie.”

She steps forward. 

“Hi,” she says, extending a hand to Troy, but he opens his arms slightly and shrugs. 

“Study group family right?”

She laughs, stepping forward and embracing him, saying, “It’s so good to finally meet you, Troy.” Abed moves back, watching with a smile on his face, his fingers laced in front of himself. Everything is falling back into place. Everything makes sense. 

“Oh,” Shirley exclaims, clapping as Frankie and Troy part. “I need to check my pies!”

“Pies?” Troy says excitedly and Jeff steps past him to grab his suitcases from the hallway. Shirley goes into the kitchen and ABed hears her hum a happy “Mm-hmm!” 

“Hiii…” Chang steps out from the kitchen shyly and Troy points at him, confusion painted across his face.

“Uhm…?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about me!” Chang says, holding his hands out in his defence. “I’m on three antipsychotics and I have biweekly therapy.” 

Troy pauses, still staring at Chang in confusion (and Abed suspects a little worry), before dropping his hand and saying, “Good for you, man,” and Chang steps forward, holding his arms out for a hug. Troy obliges and looks at Abed with wide eyes and a smile over his shoulder. 

“I made some yummy pies,” Shirley says as they all enter the kitchen area, Jeff dropping Troy’s luggage in the living room, “because I thought it would be a nice par-a-llel, as Abed would say--” (she shoots him a glowing smile), “to when you and Abed first moved in here. You remember, the house-warming party, and Jeff tried to trick us all with the dice, and--”

“We danced to Roxanne for longer than is reasonable,” Annie finishes for her. 

“Yes, that was fun.” Shirley sets the pies down and Abed leans against a counter, sticking his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. Troy stands next to him, bumping his shoulder and then resting his back against the counter, their arms pressed together. “Well, no one really ate the pies that night but I suppose I was just getting started with baking, maybe they weren’t that good.” 

The others, except Frankie and Chang, exchange glances, silently agreeing to secrecy. 

“They smell delicious, Shirley,” Troy says and she beams at him. 

--- 

Jeff ordered pizza a while ago, and rather than using a die to choose who goes down to get it, Frankie volunteers. She comments on how weird the delivery man was but says it’s worth it because of how hungry she is. They eat around the dining table, and Troy sits next to Abed. As Britta asks about his “adventure,” (she wiggles in her seat as she says it), Troy’s leg presses to Abed’s.  At first he thinks it was an accident, but when Abed shifts his leg, Troy’s doesn’t move. 

“I mean,” Troy says, pausing to swallow a bite. “We were only captured by pirates twice, and other than that it was mostly smooth sailing.” 

Britta lets out a loud “A-haaaah!” and reaches across the table to high five him while sticking more pizza in her mouth. Jeff rolls his eyes and it takes Chang a second to process it before snapping and cackling. 

“Wait,twice?” Frankie says, lowering her slice and looking at him, her expression scandalized. 

“Yeah, once in the Gulf of Mexico and the other time somewhere in the Pacific I think, I don’t really remember.”

“How’s LaVar?”Annie asks. 

“ He’s good!” Troy’s leg hooks around Abed’s under the table. Abed almost wants to reach under the table and hold his knee or his thigh, but he doesn’t, leaving his hands on the table and letting his other leg drift until it tangles with Troy’s. “I asked if he wanted to come but he said he was just gonna take it easy tonight.”

“Do you think he’ll want to come another time?” Jeff asks. “I was thinking we could have a small party back at Greendale, at the study room. We can retake that photo we took before you left.” 

“Oh, yeah!” Troy says excitedly, grinning. “Can we invite the dean too? I miss that funky little dude.”

“...Sure?” Jeff swirls his glass and takes a sip.

There’s a moment of silence as they all dig into their pizza, and Troy sighs happily. 

“It’s good to be back,” he says, looking around at all of them. “I missed you guys so much.”

Shirley and Annie both let out their signature “Awww,” and Jeff jostles Troy’s shoulder like a little brother. 

“What’s new with you guys, though?” Troy asks. “I mean you told me a lot in your emails but what else?”

“Shirley spun off,” Abed says, pointing a finger at her, and he revels in the way Troy grins at him.

“That’s… true, I did.” Shirley folds her paper napkin and places it delicately in her lap. “I told you about that detective I cook for.” 

“Yeah. That’s so cool,” Troy says, leaning forward with emphasis. 

“And Annie kind of spun off but she came back,” Abed adds. 

“Didn’t you kind of spin off too?” Frankie asks, and Abed shrugs. 

“I guess, but I think I kind of knew I was coming back.” 

“I am still doing the internship.” Annie clarifies, bouncing in her seat. “It’s just… different. Most of it is  virtual, like online and stuff, but every other weekend I go down to the headquarters to work.” 

“You’re gonna save the world someday,” Troy says. “Don’t forget about us when you do, okay?” 

“Troy, you sailed around the world for four years and I didn’t forget about you.” She pauses. “And you didn’t forget about us either.” 

“Of course I didn’t forget about guys, I could never.” Troy looks around the table, at all of them and their greasy pizza. Chang seems more focused on the pizza than anything, but the others are listening intently. “You guys are my family.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Jeff says before Shirley can get an Awww in. They all lift their glasses, and as Jeff says, “To family,” dramatically, Abed feels Troy’s fingers squeeze his knee under the table. 

---

Britta suggests they watch a movie, and Troy asks if Abed still has The Breakfast Club. 

“Do you guys remember the day we met, and Abed got us all to shut up by reciting a scene from The Breakfast Club?” Annie asks as they migrate into the living room. 

“Yeah,” Jeff says, sitting in the middle of one of the sofas. Abed has always wondered how someone can be comfortable like that, legs out, feet planted on the floor, lap empty. But to each his own, he supposes. “Because you guys were arguing so loud the only thing that got you to be quiet was Abed saying ‘No Dad, what about you?’ like young Judd Nelson.” 

“He slammed his hand on the table first,” Britta says, flopping onto the sofa next to him “That’s what got our attention.”

“Oh, yeah.” 

“You guys were already arguing then?” Frankie says. She sits on Jeff’s other side, crossing her legs. 

“Day one,” Troy says, sitting on the other sofa. Abed hadn’t replaced the armchairs they used to sit in. Part of him wishes he had; maybe things would feel more normal. But another part of him doesn’t care, because Troy didn’t sit at the armrest, and he nods to it when Abed faces the sofa. Abed sits between him and the armrest, and his weight on the sofa makes the cushion cave, and he and Troy fall into each other. Neither of them move. “One of the first interactions we had in that room was all of us yelling over each other.” 

“And you still argue to this day,” she said in wonder. 

“Like a true family,” Jeff says in that I’m being sarcastic but you can take me seriously if you want voice with a matching, arrogant smile. 

Shirley lets out a sweet, “Yeah,” and she grins. 

Abed pulls his legs up on the sofa, his knees bent in front of him as he leans against the armrest, and Troy’s shoulder bumps him gently before staying, pressing. It stays there as the movie starts, as the others quietly talk, and Abed doesn’t tell them to be quiet, because if he’s honest he’s only half paying attention anyway, his mind too focused on the feeling of Troy’s shoulder against his.

It shouldn’t affect him like this. Before Troy left, they were constantly touching: shoulders pressed together as they next to each other like now, hands clasped as they navigate crowded hallways. Troy always went to find Abed’s hand. Once he accidentally grabbed Annie’s and despite her flustered blushing and giggling, he simply said, “Oh, sorry. Thought you were Abed. There you are, buddy!” and pushed past Annie to reach for Abed’s hand. They’d even cuddled, especially after Abed had had a particularly hard or exhausting day. There were some days he just dropped his bag on the floor and climbed into Troy’s bed, waiting until Troy changed into his pyjamas, or finished his homework, or ate dinner, until Troy climbed in next to him and wrapped his arms around him. They knew about the rumours. (Rumours that everyone in the study group had the decency not to bring up. But Abed suspected Pierce somehow never caught wind of them. Thankfully.) 

But now it makes Abed’s heart beat too fast. It makes his hands shake. He clasps them in his lap. 

He realises the room is dark, and Chang sits on the floor next to Annie, who’s holding a bowl of popcorn. (When did that happen?) She smiles and holds the bowl out for Chang to take a handful, and Shirley sits next to Troy. 

“Abed,” Troy’s voice says quietly, and Abed is shaken into himself.

“Hm?” 

Troy’s eyes are soft on him, dark and shining with reflections from the TV.

“You okay?” He’s whispering, and Abed nods, smiling. Troy hesitates, smiling back, and he leans forward, bumping their forehead together lightly before shifting in his seat, moving so he can lay his head on Abed’s shoulder.

As the movie goes on, Abed’s heart slows down until it’s somewhere near normal. He sighs, dropping his head onto the back of the sofa and letting it roll until it’s resting on top of Troy’s head. His hair is soft, and it tickles Abed’s face, but he doesn’t move. He wonders if his beard is as soft as his hair. 

“Hey Abed,” Jeff calls across the room as the characters dance on top of a table. “Remember when we did that with the pizza guy?” Abed can hear his amusement in his voice, can hear him grinning.

“Vaguely,” he says back. 

Troy’s breathing evens out. Abed thinks he might be asleep, and he doesn’t blame him. But after a few minutes there’s a gentle brush against Abed’s finger, his hands curled up between his chest and his legs, and he looks down to see Troy’s hand resting between him and Abed, his finger ever-so-slightly touching Abed’s. Abed uncurls his hand, extending his fingers just enough to pull Troy’s, tugging his hand into Abed’s lap and clutching Troy’s thumb in his fist as Troy’s fingers brush over the back of his hand, sending chills through his veins and down his spine. 

Troy sighs, and lightly rubs the back of Abed’s hand. 

Abed is almost falling asleep by the time the credits are rolling, and Jeff loudly states, “Well, I should be off.” He stands and shuts off the TV with the remote, which Abed forgot he had, and Troy lifts his head from Abed’s shoulder. “I have work in the morning.”

“Me too,” Frankie says. “You’re not special.” 

“And I have class,” Britta says, standing as well. 

“Me too,” Shirley and Annie say simultaneously before looking at each other and saying “Ohh,” in high-pitched voices. 

“Me too,” Chang says, pushing himself up from the floor. He accidentally hits the bowl of popcorn, and it tips, spilling kernels on the carpet. Abed shakes his head. 

“Ben, what do you even do at Greendale?” Jeff asks. (Troy mumbles “Ben?” next to Abed.)

“Uhm…” He finishes standing, about as ungracefully as humanly possible, and dusts his hands off on his legs. “You should ask the dean when we get there because I honestly don’t know.”

Everyone seems to collectively decide to let that pass as an answer. Annie shrugs and steps to the sofa, holding her arms out to Troy. Troy’s hand detaches from Abed’s, (who forgot they were holding hands. It feels so natural. Like it’s how their hands are supposed to be.) and he stands, hugging Annie tightly before she steps back and Britta takes her place.

“You’ll come by Greendale tomorrow right?” she asks as they rock. Jeff hands Annie her jacket behind them and he pulls his own over his shoulders.

“Yeah, of course,” Troy says, letting go of her. Shirley reaches up with grabby hands and Troy chuckles, wrapping his arms around her. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Haaaaaah,” Britta, saying, tugging her leather jacket on. (Abed doesn’t think it can keep her that warm.)

“It wasn’t that good,” Jeff says, shaking his head, and she makes a face at him. 

Troy even hugs Frankie and Chang before everyone leaves, after drawn-out goodbyes, I’ll see you tomorrows, and more I’ll see you tomorrows. 

When the door clicks shut, the apartment is silent, and Abed takes a breath before turning away from the door, to where Troy is standing. He’s smiling when Abed looks at him, looking like he’s waiting, and Abed steps closer, hearing only his and Troy’s quiet breaths and the gentle whir of the television. Abed doesn’t realise that Troy is moving closer too, until their forehead are pressed together, and they’re breathing the same air, and Troy’s arms are wrapping around Abed again and Abed’s are wrapping around him.

Abed’s eyes close again, and he hides his face in Troy’s neck, and Troy sighs, humming quietly, and Abed wonders why people question existence, because this is it. This is everything.

They stand there for a while, holding each other like they’re scared to let go, like if they let go they might fall apart, or Troy might disappear for another one thousand, seven hundred, thirty-seven days, until Troy’s arms slide so his hands are holding Abed’s waist, gentle and strong, and Abed pulls back, looking at him. 

“Can I touch you?” he whispers softly, looking back and forth between Troy’s dark eyes, and Troy smiles, a soft, sleepy, almost lazy smile, and nods, so Abed places his hands on his cheeks, gently brushing over his beard with his fingertips. He was right. It’s very soft. 

Abed can feel Troy’s thumbs brushing back and forth over his waist, slow and gentle, like Abed is fragile, and he realises he’s staring at Troy. It’s probably been too long, Abed thinks, but he doesn’t stop staring. He can’t. Usually, when he stares at people for what they consider to be too long, they get weird. They make faces at him, faces that confuse him, or they walk away, disgruntled or miffed. They scoff, wave, ask What? in rude voices. Even if Abed is staring because he thinks they’re beautiful. But Troy doesn’t seem weirded out right now. He’s still smiling, and he looks sleepy. Eventually, as Abed’s fingers gently scratch over his cheeks and jaw, Troy’s eyes drift shut. His thumbs don’t stop moving on Abed’s waist.

“Troy?” 

It takes a second, but Troy’s eyes open, hazy, and then they focus on Abed, and his smile grows.

“Mm-hmm?” 

“Are you tired?” 

Abed would understand, It is getting late, and Troy has been through a lot. Reunions with six people, and meeting a whole new person, even a person he’s heard about, would take a lot out of Abed. 

“I’m happy,” Troy says, like that explains it, and Abed hums. “Do you want to sit? Hang out?” “Sure.”

Troy pulls at his waist, and they go to the sofa, and Abed is a little disappointed because it means he has to stop touching Troy’s face. Troy sits first, looking up at Abed, and Abed can’t not smile at him, because he’s finally here.

Home.

He sits next to him, facing him with a leg bent between them, and Troy looks at him, and Abed smiles. 

Abed asks, “Can I touch your beard again?” and Troy says, “‘Course,” and Abed smiles.

He touches his beard, first with the tips of his fingers, before smoothing his hand over his jaw, and Troy’s eyes shut again, and Abed smiles. 

Troy bites his lower lip, letting his head fall back, and he looks so happy that Abed smiles, and smiles, and smiles, and smiles. 

“Talk to me,” Troy says finally, turning his head slightly so he can look at Abed, and Abed cocks his own head, thinking, brushing the back of his hand over Troy’s cheek.

“I’m officially diagnosed with autism,” he says, watching as Troy’s eyes fly open and he looks at Abed, grinning. 

“Yeah?” “Mm-hmm.” Abed sighs. “I talked to a psychiatrist in L.A. Jeff was right.” 

“That’s great, buddy!” Troy rests his head on the back of the sofa, still looking at Abed. 

“But they don’t use Aspergers as a diagnosis anymore,” Abed continues. “Apparently the guy it was named after was a nazi or something.”

“Oh. Gross.”

“Yeah. I doubt Jeff knew that when he said that to me, though.” Abed looks away from his eyes, watching his own fingers brush over Troy’s jaw. 

“I mean, I doubt anyone in the study group really knows much about it in general.”

“Britta.”

Troy furrows his brows. 

“Really?” “Yeah, when I told the group she was super excited and did a ton of research. I think she knows more about it than I do.”

Troy chuckles, subtly shifting so he’s closer to Abed on the sofa. 

There’s a beat of silence and Abed looks up from his hand to Troy’s eyes, and they lock. Troy’s eyes are smiling.  

“I thought about giving up so many times,” Troy says. “Giving up and just coming home.” “I’m glad you didn’t.” 

“Why?” 

“I know how important it was to you. That you go out and become your own person, cement your own existence. Like a coming of age film but… in your early twenties.” 

Abed hesitates for just a split second, and then moves, setting his hand on Troy’s shoulder and lifting a leg and moving so he’s on Troy’s lap, his legs on either side of him. Troy’s hands wait in the air until he’s settled, and then they’re on him, sliding up his thighs until they’re on his waist, slipping under his jacket and pulling him close. Abed touches his hair, closing his eyes as he feels Troy press his forehead to Abed’s chest, just under his throat. 

“I thought about you every day,” Troy murmurs, and Abed tugs softly. A rush of warmth goes through him, and he knows Troy can feel his heartbeat. “Every fucking  day.” 

“I counted them,” Abed admits. Troy lifts his head, looking into his eyes. 

“How many?” he whispers, just a breath.

“A thousand, seven-hundred, thirty-seven. And nine hours.”

Troy exhales, leaning forward and pressing his lips to Abed’s throat, as high as he can reach. When he pulls away, the spot gets cold.

“Troy?”

“Yeah?”

“May I kiss you, please?”

“Please,” Troy breaths, his eyes dropping to Abed’s lips. “Please, please, please, please, ple--” 

So Abed does. 

Their mouths crash together, and Abed’s hands trap Troy’s face, his palms pressing to his jaws, tilting his head for a better angle, and he feels Troy’s hands press into the small of his back and pull him closer. Troy gently bites his lip, and he licks into his mouth, and it’s nighttime and buttered noodles and Inspector Spacetime and Pulp Fiction and a warm jacket and a pretty die and the colour blue and it’s everything Abed loves and has ever loved right on Troy Barnes’s tongue. 

And all Abed can think is finallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinallyfinally. 

That this is what they should have done the night before Troy left, instead of just laying together, their arms wrapped around each other, their legs entwined, neither of them really sleeping because neither of them wanted to wake up and find that they had run out of time. That this is what they should have done before exchanging hoodies so Abed could keep Troy there with him and so Troy could bring Abed with him, before zipping up Troy’s bags.

That this is what they should have been doing for years and years, that they should have found each other in the world before Greendale, before Spanish class, before that chapter, just so they could do this sooner. 

But every single thought is pushed out of Abed’s mind as Troy pulls away for a gasp and pushes back in, running his tongue over Abed’s lips, smiling gently as Abed buries his fingers in his hair, as Troy lifts a hand from his waist and places it on his face, touching him so gently, carefully, thoughtfully that Abed thinks he might cry.

He doesn’t realise he is crying until Troy is pulling away and gently, carefully, thoughtfully, wiping at his cheeks and under his eyes, murmuring “It’s okay,” and “I got you.” 

Abed’s fingers are suddenly clutching at Troy’s hood, and he can’t see because the world is underwater, and there’s a soft whining sound that he realises is him when Troy quietly says, “I know, baby.” 

Troy pulls at his neck until their foreheads are pressed together, and Troy is warmwarmwarm and Abed can’t stop. His mouth is talking without his brain telling it to (“Please don’t, just-- Don’t--”) and his hands are shaking, and everything is falling down and falling into place. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Troy says gently. “I’m home.” 

And then he’s pushing Abed’s hair back and pressing his lips to his forehead, and his cheeks, and his nose, and then his lips, lingering until he pulls away and Abed subconsciously leans in, trying to catch him. 

“I love you so much,” Troy whispers when Abed finally stops crying. “So fucking much.”

Abed slips his hands over his neck, brushing his thumbs back and forth over his jaw. He closes his eyes, pressing his lips to Troy’s before pulling away to breathe and resting his forehead on Troy’s, feeling his hands run over his back and his hips and his thighs and then back again like they’re mapping him out. 

They stay there, while the stars and street lamps and stop lights shine outside, while cars and motorcycles and bikes speed by, while the wind blows and the rain falls, they breathe and breathe and breathe and exist and exist and exist. 

Home.

[impala1967dwinchester]

Jensen Ackles: Green Eyes Meet

*Not My GIF* 

Paring: Jensen Ackles x Reader 

Pov: Jensen Ackles  

Rating: Adult Mature 

Warnings: Sexy Jensen, Green eyes addiction. Swearing, self-image problems, 

Summary: Jensen had never really liked his bright green eyes, but that ended after he met his new personal assistant on the Supernatural Set. Her green eyes grabbing his attention immediately, maybe he did like his green eyes afterall.  

Word Count : 1,653

Since I had been a kid I never liked my bright green eyes. Never was teased for them but the constant fawning over by girls in high school was annoying. That feature was like a crooked nose that everyone noticed and wanted to talk about behind your back, and sometimes in front of you, to you.

When I was a senior in high school my girlfriend was only with me because of that one feature, she had paraded me around to her friends, and family. Showing me off like I was a prize possession a toy. Not her boyfriend the boy she “loved”.

It was like my green eye was the only thing that people saw. Not my work, my thoughts, my personalities. Nothing. In college which was a fucking nightmare, there was another girl her name was Dorothy, she was so cute at least 20 years ago she was cute.

Her personality, her style everything about her was adorable. But yet again a failed relationship all because she was only there for my eye, yet again I have paraded around to parties, functions. Made to feel like she really “loved me”.

I again broke up and went through that motion. Finally, after 20 years I was not an adult but I was getting jobs. I did do a few modeling jobs, acting was sprinkled in too. Then what seemed like a big boom of celebration I was cast in the show Supernatural with a lifetime friend now Jared.

Years Later

Casting and building Supernatural was the best time of my life. A show that was dedicated to two brothers trying to save the world. A fan base that was amazing, best friends for the first time that wanted to be my friend because of me and not what I looked like.

Onset we all had our own personal assistant. Misha had an older woman in her late 30s her attitude every day was to make Misha smile and laugh, be in the goofy mood that every day had been presented.

Jared had another young woman late 20s. She was a fan of the show before we really hit off on the CW. She had gotten the job when she wanted to do an internship, and of course, with Jared being his normal passionate loving, caring person he loved her and always brought her to lunch she was more of a friend if Jared then his personal assistant.

I on the other hand had gone through what seemed to have been at least 6 or 7 younger, and older women. I guess you could compare it to prince charming trying to find Cinderella, every single girl had to size every girl had to have the position.

There was Ashley a young girl, she had brown shoulder-length hair, a straight smile, blue eyes, but she was all over the place with very bad ADHD. She simply wasn’t made for a schedule type of job, but I still made sure her reference papers were nicely written more focused on her great skills rather the ones that needed work.

There was Rebecca, she was middle-aged women, her two adorable kids was all she ever talked about but she was tired and could never keep up with the many types of different things we were always doing.

There was Annie. A straightforward mess of a person, she had a very bad RBF always thought I had done something wrong. I was very quick to say “I need a new personal assistant!”

There was Jessica. A sweet 20-year-old girl, a shorty with an attitude, and a very bad temper with everyone expect with me. I knew that would never work, so yet again I had to ask HR to find me a new PA.

There were Mrs.Miller older women in her late 40s. She was organized, and very sweet but she was sadly was only doing this job while her husband was out of a job. So she went which was quite sad, but I again had to ask.

Then there was Y/n. Her personality was all I ever wanted in a PA. She made life so easy, always at my trailer before I was with a coffee in hand for me and herself. An inquiry of what the day was packed with, always had my lines and would chat with me during lunch. She was exactly what I was looking for. Only after 5 years of yearning and wanting someone with the correct skills.

______________________       Jensen A.    ___________________________

After another 5 years, Y/n and I had the best friendship I have with anyone since I met Jared and Misha. She so sweet and kind, she’d pick me up drunk from the bar, or go with me to premiers of literally anything. We’d go out to see stupid horror movies or funny romcoms. We were like the best of best friends. We were definitely in the hall of best friends.

The many times I had come to Y/n rescue after douche bag dick heads had fucked her over. Leaving her at dinner by herself, driving her home to watch something, and eat a whole tub of ice cream. I was her rock and she was mine.

I never noticed that she and I had the same colored eyes until about two weeks ago when she had on this bright purple jacket. Her eyes popping with the contrast. She was the most beautiful that day she wore a purple jacket with a black turtleneck with a pair of cargo pants and lace-up boots. Just as beautiful as the first day I had met her and every day after that one.

She smelled of peppermint and roses, her makeup light and cute. The pink hue to her cheeks was so adorable. That day we had a few scenes and then an interview and that was it. I drove her home that night and slept blissfully.

As the weeks went on my need to be closer and always around Y/n grew stronger. We’d sit down for lunch and sit down next to her instead of in front of her. I’d bring her coffee during a rough patch.

But one day I think she started to catch on, she’d stop me every day and hug me, like it was the end of the world.

A knock on my trailer door

“Jensen, do you mind if I come in?” Her voice was timid and tired from a day worth of work.

“Yeah, of course, you can come in Y/n.” I got up and opened the trailer door. Her small built frame came into view. Today I hadn’t seen her but once in the morning and now. She was wearing a blue crop top, black pants, a pair of vans. Again such a beautiful as the first day I saw her.

She came in and sat down in her regular seat. She didn’t have any papers on notebooks with her. She probably just wanted to sit in silence enjoying the time together.

“Jensen, how was your day?” she asked.

“Y/n, my day was perfectly fine. How was yours?” This was odd, a normal conversation. This wasn’t what I was used to with her.

“My day was tuff. Do you mind if she just lay down for a minute was something on the tv? Too many thought going on right now.” Her words shy, it sounded as if she were going to cry.

I wrapped my hand around hers and dragged her towards the back of the trailer, a spot where we would relax after a hard day's work, talk about things, do what we wanted to do which was just sit down and watch something. She plopped down and pulled her shoes off, and sat beside her laying my arm out so she could lay down.

If others were to see us like this they would say that we were a couple. Something that I would love but I knew better, she knew better right?

“Jensen, thank you,” She said after a while. I hummed in response, the clock wrote 9:30 on it. It was late but I had clothes here so if we did end up falling asleep here it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Another hour went by, and Y/n got up. She faced me, sitting crisscrossed. Breathing in deep she began to speak, so I turned off the sound to the tv.

“Jensen, You are the best friend I have ever had. Something I don’t want to ruin with what I’m about to say, I’m going to tell you the truth about how I feel, how I’ve felt for the past five years. It’s hard for me because of course, I don’t know where you are emotional and everything, so here it goes. Jensen, I fell in love with you 5 years ago. I fell in love with your personality, your character, your passion, your love for others, your fans. I love fell in everything about you. This could ruin everything we have but I ho..”

She just looked so beautiful at that moment after so many years of loving her from afar. Jared had seen me fall in love with her, told me to just tell her, I was scared I’d ruin the friendship we had built. So I kissed her, cutting her off mid-sentence.

“I have loved you since the beginning too Y/n. You’re the smartest, most caring person I have met in a long time. You are so beautiful sorry I cut you off but I have been waiting to do that for a long time you know.” I said with my hands still pushed into her sides

She giggled, and leaned her head against mine, and hummed in response. And for the first time I felt like I was living my dream, I was with the person I truly love and that loved me back.

Tag List- @akshi8278​