#every other couple is too healthy i need angst and anger

[soup-scope]

if erik ever decides to go back to the fred and bright eyes storyline i’m gonna be such a brighteyes dick rider

the second someone insults their character i’m emailing their school and their mothers

[keeksandgigz]

roll for initiative (part two of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: You venture into your new position at Eddie's cafe, but you seem to be having a hard time. Eddie gives you hell for refusing to be trained. The confrontation comes to a head after you say something you shouldn't have. A heated game of DnD leaves you wondering about the purpose of this place. Things heat up after you and Eddie close the store alone.

cw: 6.8k words, swearing, modern setting, Eddie and reader being mean to each other, shitty description of a DnD game, teeny bit of angst (sorry), horny sexual tension, smut, spanking, choking, not quite piv yet, fingering, denial this is 18+ minors dni!!

a/n: Surprise! One day early because I'm an impatient little shit. i dunno how to play DnD i'm going off whatever my boyfriend tells me. also kill em all IS the best metallica album, argue with the wall. Debated on making it a two- parter but i wanted to get to the smut <3 pls like and reblog! feedback always appreciated and my ask box is always open if u wanna talk!!!

baby taglist: @corrodedcoffincumslut, @sleepy-bunnie,, @crybabyddl (let me know if you want to be added!)

Eddie's right.

You're indeed crashing and burning as you make those stupidly named lattes, but the rest of the crew is nice enough to help you along the way. Virginia really is coming into her own, quickly mastering every drink that is thrown her way.

Yet you can't shake off the feeling of Eddie stalking towards you, his hot breath on your face. How it didn’t scare you, rather, it excited you. You enjoy picking fights with him, ripping him apart and him doing the same to you. It's not healthy, but it helps with your anger.

“Those were three pumps of elderflower. I believe you need four for a large, sweetheart. Crashing and burning so soon?” he comes up behind you, startling you. 

“Get the fuck off of me before I throw this scalding hot drink at you” not when you're working. You cannot take his taunts while working. 

“Just checking up on you” he shrugs “maybe you might have changed your mind about me training you. I know these are not the dumb little detox drinks you do at your cafe. Which is really what makes the store much more interesting and attractive, doesn’t it?” 

“Eddie I swear to God” it becomes more than taunts. He seriously wants to fuck with your brain. 

“Jeff” he snaps his fingers towards the guy “I’m gonna go take my lunch, you’re in charge ‘til I’m back” his attention diverts away from you for a second, then back to you. “Could you be a dear and make me an extra hot flat white with almond milk? Add a couple pumps of Irish cream syrup in there. I’m expecting a white dot, after all if you’re so perfect you don’t need training that’s gonna be a walk in the park for ya, huh?” he leans against the counter and he’s so condescending it makes your knees tremble. 

“Yeah, duh. I’ll spit in it for ya too. Sounds good?” you panic a bit. Flat whites are not your forte. 

“I knew you’ve been spitting in my drinks, sweetheart. Kinda hot, to be honest. But that’s a violation, wouldn’t wanna get Jim involved, do we?” he raises his eyebrows at you, looking down at you, making you feel like a coffee bean on the ground. Kinda hot. 

“I was just joking, dickhead” 

“Hm. Better be. Another filthy word from you and I’m sending you home.” he whispers. “Alright, going on my lunch. Virginia, you’re off you can go home, Chrissy, take your last break in thirty minutes” and with that, he disappears to one of the tables, watching you make his drink.

That should be a form of cruel and unusual punishment. Just him staring at you, making sure you get his drink right. Pull two ristretto shots.

You aren't buzzing anymore, rather, your brain begins shutting off, drained by all the tension that has been building between you and Eddie. Two pumps of Irish cream. Maybe you actually aren't good enough to be here. Froth the almond milk. Maybe he's right, maybe you are meant to work in a mediocre cafe, making shitty drinks. Espresso first, then milk. You aren't good enough for this level of mastery. 

Fuck. No white dot. 

You tremble as you walk towards Eddie, sitting at his table, watching you bring him a cup of mediocre coffee. 

“No white dot” he says, looking at you with displeasure. 

“I’m sorry, I-”he interrupts you.

“You wanna get trained or are you gonna be a little know-it-all and then deliver me this?” he sips on his flat white. 

“Ok, fine. Train me, whatever.”Embarrassment overtakes you, wanting a hole to form under your feet and engulf you. 

He's right, he has been right all along. Tears begin to prick at your eyes.

“You okay there? Y’know I was joking, right? It doesn’t matter I just-” a spark of guilt lights itself in his throat, you look like you're about to cry. 

“Can I take a second?” you say, the knot in your throat threatening to snap any second. 

“Yeah, um go- go take your break” he breathes. Fuck, he's made you cry. 

You run off towards the back, wanting to disappear. Everything that has happened within those past two days begin to wash over you.

Your cafe is gone, the project you had worked on with your dad before he got sick, gone for the next year. And he’d likely not see it reopen.

Eddie being an asshole, holding a grudge on you because you took his customers, making your life a living hell. 

You sit in the back as you wipe some tears that fell from your eyes. Across the room, there's a door that you have not seen before, and it's ajar.

Curiosity gets the best of you, as you walk into a small, secluded room. It's full of beakers and jars of ingredients, really selling the whole alchemist thing. You look through the ingredients elderflower, rose, peppermint, honey, basil. Basil syrup sounds disgusting. 

You turn towards the work bench, noticing a bottle full of clear liquid labeled lavender syrup. You open it and immediately smell the astringent flavor coming from the bottle. You pour some on your finger and take a taste. Ew.

He needs a better lavender syrup recipe.

“The fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie’s voice makes you drop the bottle to the floor, shattering and spilling the astringent liquid on the floor. 

“Oh- shit sorry! I was just- i just got curious” 

“You can’t just come in here and act like you own the place. Curious my ass, you were trying to steal” he accuses, and that hurts you.

“You know I won’t fucking do that, I take my work seriously. Also your lavender syrup tastes like ass, and basil syrup? That sounds foul” you wince, stepping over the broken glass, to make your way back to the front.

He grabs your arm and stops you. “Aren’t you gonna clean that up? Broom’s in the closet” he says, offering you a smug smile. 

“Get the fuck away from me, asshole” you reply, jerking away from his grip. 

“Alright that’s it” is all he says before he slams you against the wall.

He's close. He's so fucking close. 

Your back slams against the brick, hitting a random canvas panel. You can feel his breath on your face, the smell of coffee and cologne inundating your senses. 

“You have been a fucking pain in my ass since you opened your dumb little cafe. You’ve been rude, unruly, untidy and down right mean towards me, and I’m fucking over it” he seethes, he has you caged in between his tattooed arms and all you can think of is tracing every line of his tattoos with the tips of your fingers.

“It’s been four fucking hours, y’hear me? Four hours and I’m sick of you. Y’think you’re cute? You’re a fucking brat, sweetheart, and I don’t like dealing with brats like you.” Your stomach feels funny, like you're taking on a challenge rather than a scolding.

“Clean your shit up and go home, I don’t wanna see your fucking face today. Come back when you have gained some common sense in that empty fucking head” he lowers his arms, but you aren't done. 

“Or what? You think you’re so scary, Eddie, with your stupid tattoos, your fucking stupid hair and your stupid satanic shirts. I don’t give a shit who you are, I’m employed to work here and you can’t fucking send me home because you don’t like me. I’ll fucking report you, freak” 

Freak. His breath hitches at that, years of high school bullying getting under his skin again, making him swallow hard at the unwelcome memory of being slammed against a locker on Monday mornings before class. He stiffens up.

“Alright” he swallows “clean this up and get back to work, I don’t wanna see you right now” you notice that his demeanor has changed, you visibly hit a nerve. Guilt pools at your chest.

“But what about- about the training?” you ask, voice hitching.

“I’ll get Gareth to train you, Virginia should have gone home already. That way we’re both happy. Take tomorrow off, I’ll see you Tuesday” and with that he leaves.

He keeps himself buried in his office until the end of your shift. He can't bear to stand the sight of you, not after you had called him a freak. That stung more than whatever stupid insult you could have flung his way. 

When you turn up on Tuesday, Eddie is nowhere to be found. 

“He took the day off,” Steve says. And you feel real fucking bad. You're scheduled for a mid- shift from three to seven.

“Hey” Jeff says “we’re closing early today ‘cause we’re doing a DnD campaign after. Since Eddie’s not here, would you mind taking over for me so I can start setting up? We close at six-thirty, so after that you can, like, sweep, do dishes and then you can go home” 

You aren't in the mood for a snide remark or a witty comment, so you just agree. “Is Eddie gonna be here tonight?” you ask. You’ve been trying to hound him to apologize for whatever happened the day before, it's clear he's avoiding you. 

He was supposed to be on the schedule. 

“Yeah uh” he replies “he’s our DM, so we kinda need him” he shrugs. 

“DM?” you froth a cup of oatmilk, turning towards him while he's making his drinks.

“Yeah. Dungeon Master?” he gives you a Isn’t that obvious? expression and goes back to his iced hazelnut macchiato. 

“Kinky” you retort, he laughs a bit. 

At six-thirty you lock up the store and you confine yourself to the back for dishes. Keeping an ear out for Eddie’s voice, hoping he’d show up before 7. 

Colette left with Steve to work on the Halloween menu and “I don’t fuck with that nerd stuff” said Steve, fixing his glasses after putting his coat on. 

“…no Henderson you don’t get it “Kill ‘Em All” is definitely Metallica’s best album, are you shitting me? …No don’t come at me with that “Enter Sandman” bullshit you’re so basic for that, you fucking poser” your ears perk up at that. It's definitely Eddie. 

You peek your head out of the back door to see him set up a big table, followed by a bunch of what look like  high school students as they sit down, with their spiral notebooks and pens.

A bunch of small figurines scattered on the cardboard mat as Eddie sits at the head of the table, pulling out a leather bound folder covered in stickers and a cardboard screen. 

They're serious about this.

You're too busy staring at the crowded table to notice Eddie running towards you.

"Daddy didn't teach you it's rude to stare?"

You press yourself against the green tile wall to let him pass, words caught in your throat as you follow him into his office.

"Apparently daddy didn't teach you that stalking is bad either. What is it? Need somethin'?" he spits out and you can feel the venom in his words.

"Yeah, I just" you clear your throat. Talking was hard. He cocks an eyebrow at you as he begins rummaging through his desk drawers.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to apologize for-"

"For being a bitch the other day? Took you long enough" he scoffs as he retrieves a small tin box containing what you assume are dice.

"Um- yeah. I guess that" you shrug and turn your feet to leave the door.

"I need to hear you say it, sweetheart. It's not a real apology otherwise, is it?" he has this ability to make you feel so incredibly small with only the power of his words. Like he's talking to a toddler.

"I don't think that's necessary, Eddie, I mean um- I have to get back to work" you protest.

"You can go back to work when you give me a full apology" he's ticking you off, gloating in his victory of you admitting defeat. The white banner you're waving slowly turning red.

"You're being a cunt, take the apology and go play your stupid nerd game" you snap, and you can see his lips curling in a wicked grin. Challenge accepted.

"All this talk of me kicking you to the curb for your filthy mouth really isn't sticking huh? Sorry sweetheart, can't accept an apology you don't mean" he shrugs, heading out of his office, you follow him suit.

"Eddie what the fuck?! Are you actually mental?" you want to strangle him, shove those dice so far down his throat he chokes and dies.

"I'd recommend you scrub those dishes really hard, I can still see the grime on the blenders. If you'll excuse me, I gotta lead my party through the rivers of Bagodan" he winks and then he walks over to his table, leaving you mortified.

You do a once- over with the dishes, while hearing Eddie's shrill voice screech and laugh every time one of his players miss. What's so fucking funny about a couple kids rolling dice?

"Looks like you've made it to the last river" he narrates in a solemn voice, deeper, hotter "Oh, but what is that? You hear shrieking from a distance. It's a sphynx. To cross the river you have to behead the sphynx and bring it to the king of Bagodan. Only then he will grant you access to the wings of Saurion the Elder, and you... will be... free" he says in a whispered tone.

"What do you do, my brave adventurers?"

"Shit" you hear one of the kids swear, he's tall with black hair. "We don't have enough hit points to kill the sphynx AND get through the king's palace guards"

"You’re astute dipshit, congrats!" says another, a girl, looking much younger than the rest.

"We would have had enough points if Dustin here, hadn't fucking sold his to the market for a stupid cloak" says Gareth, shoving the kid who you assume is Dustin

"it was aN INVISIBILITY CLOAK" Dustin yells. The room booms in laughter at the kid's tantrum.

It makes you think. About how you've never had a group of friends like that. Someone to share a common interest with. Sure, you have Colette, but you've moved to town just fairly recently, and you have lived and breathed work for the first two years. No friends to make when you're cooped up home buried in projects among projects. No friends to make when your dad is sick and you have to take him to the hospital on Saturdays for his treatment. You sigh a bit at that. Maybe your cafe exploding is the catalyst that is gonna bring you a new life, a new perspective.

Coming to a store that has unity as a top value really makes you reflect on how lonely your life has been so far.

"Alright children, let's take a break and you can talk strategy. Anyone want a drink?" He stands up from his chair and walks towards the bar. Startled, you go back to the sink and begin scrubbing.

"Y'know you can join us, right?" he leans against the green tile wall, looking at you.

"Join in on that nerd shit? No, thanks. My shift is over" you say putting the last blender on the drying rack and heading to the back.

He follows you "Okay, whatever. I just wanted to tell you it's gonna be me and you tomorrow. Chrissy said she can't make it. Something about midterms" and you roll your eyes.

"Fucking perfect. Tell me in what world does this shit always happen to me" you say exasperated, taking off your apron, which allows your shirt to rise just enough that it gives Eddie a peek of your tummy. Enough to make him gulp a little. Enough to distract him for ten seconds.

He shakes his head. "Listen, I'm not happy about it either, but let's keep it civil, okay? I do my thing, you do yours, we're outta here by 9 pm" he offers, leaning over the metal lockers.

You're not sure if it was the Dungeon Master demeanor he keeps on for the sake of his game or what, but he feels so tall. The thought of it makes you shiver. You put on your jacket.

"How you gettin' home?" he asks.

"Driving" you lie, your car broke down the day before, but you don't want him offering you a ride.

"Alright, I'll see you tomorrow for closing, then" he says, giving you a tight smile.

"Yeah, bye" you respond hastily, heading out towards the bus stop. Eddie keeps an eye on you through the store window the whole time.

Wednesday night at the "Mad Alchemist" is busier than you expected. Steve left for the evening, leaving you and Eddie to man the fort by yourselves.

Meaning you have to watch him flirt with every fucking customer. Young, old, boy, girl. His self assured demeanor is like a magnet to those coffee- hungry teens, the older women just blush and deliver him a meek "aw, stop it, Eddie" swatting the air and giggling.

Because you both have been so busy, it has not given you time to run your mouth and deliver him some snarky comment.

By 8pm, the store is closed. You have an hour to sweep, clean the counters, mop and do the dishes while Eddie counts the money at the register.

There is a tense quietness in the cafe. Almost as if you know that if one opened their mouths the world would explode. Or you’d start fucking, whichever one comes first. There is no noise aside from the register opening, the broom dragging across the floor and Eddie whistling.

After a day of talking, listening, screaming, shouting, the last thing you want to do is hear Eddie whistle. You let him do it, one minute, two minutes, five minutes in hopes he would get tired.

“Eddie, please” you whine.

“Helps me count money better,” he shrugs, beginning his atrocious whistling again.

You wait one, two, five minutes again. The noise of the sweep and the whistling and the money become too much for you, so in an exasperated rage, you kick the chair in front of you.

“Eddie shUT THE FUCK UP!”

The noise of the chair is the only sound in the building. Eddie stops counting, and stops whistling.

He's just staring at you. At the fallen chair. At the broom next to your feet. You find the floor to be really interesting.

“Pick it up.” Eddie’s voice is distant. A few seconds go by, and your eyes are still on the floor.

The sound of paper being put down and the stomping of heavy boots follow, until his boots arrive in your line of sight. You can't help but raise your head.

“What part of ‘pick it up’ does not register in that head? Hm? Do you kick chairs at home?”

Defeated, you shake your head.

“Do you call your daddy names?”

Another head shake.

“Do you spit in your daddy’s coffee in the morning?” his voice becomes a whisper, so, so close to your face. So close to your lips.

“I didn’t-” he cuts you off.

“I don’t appreciate liars, sweetheart. Did you spit in my drink?” he's cornering you, making you feel small.

You nod. “Only once, though” you defend yourself.

“Only once” he mocks, chuckling to himself “sixteen.” he mutters.

“Sixteen is the number of times, from the first time i stepped foot in your goddamn cafe, I’ve seen you spit in my fuckin’ drink” he seethes, no, growls.

“Now you’re fucking lying” you interject, finding a small crumb of courage within you.

“Don’t act cute, I’ve seen you. Pick the chair up” he says, his chin tilting towards the chair on the floor.

“I can’t pick it up if your stupid arm’s in the way, can I?” he grunts and moves his arm. You bend over and picked the chair up, breathing through your teeth. You're furious.

“Watch your attitude, here we don’t-”

You snap your neck around “You’re a fucking control freak, that’s what you are” you mutter. There's that word again. Freak.

“Don’t you fucking dare call me that word again” he's furious.

You turn around to face him. It's your turn to be close “Or what? You gonna spank me?” it's barely a whisper, looking at him through your lashes. A challenge.

He exhales, crossing his arms “You know what? That’s the best idea you’ve had since you’ve stepped foot in this place. Bend over the table” He whispers, and you freeze.

If there is a definition to fuck around and find out, you're it.

“Seems you might be a bit hard of hearing, sweetheart. I said bend over.” he says, more gently, yet keeping that domineering aura to him. He nudges your arm.

You quietly follow through.

“Now you’re following orders. Before I start I need to know you’re okay with this” he whispers, caressing your back in an almost soothing manner.

You nod.

He tuts “None of that shit. I’m not doing anything until I have your green light. With words”

“I-” words suddenly become hard. You swallow and breathe through your nose “I’m- I’m okay with this”

There is no denying you're extremely turned on, in addition to being revved up by your previous fight. It feels like wildfire spreading itself from every tip of your body, finding a home right between your legs.

“Alright, good. If you want me to stop we can stop at any time, just say ‘chainmail’” he says, looking around to check if the blinds had been lowered. He has a safeword. He knows what he's doing.

“O-okay” you say with all the power you can muster.

“You wanna act like a toddler, sweetheart? I’ll treat ya like a fuckin’ toddler” he says, before delivering the first smack right on the meat of your left butt cheek.

You’ve tried spanking before, with previous partners, but this is different. The smacks are calculated, like he knows where to hit. A yelp escapes you.

“Need ya to count” he says, caressing the area he just hit.

“‘Kay, fuck. One” you exhale, still feeling his handprint on your ass. The red hot sting from the impact leaving tiny pinpricks through the fabric of your jeans. 

Smack. Two.

“How ‘bout this?” he stops, speaking to no one, really. “How ‘bout I give you one spank for every time you’ve spit in my coffee, hm?”

That makes you tremble a bit. Sixteen slaps. 

“I dunno if I can, I mean I-” 

“Then you know what to say if it gets too much, right? Say ‘Yes, Eddie, I do’” his voice makes your knees give out as his other hand, the one that isn't squeezing and groping your ass, makes its way into your hair and pulls. 

“Ow- Fuck, Jesus Christ Eddie!” you yell, but the pull at your scalp makes you wish he’d drop the antics, pull your pants down and fuck you immediately. 

“Not what I wanna hear, sweetheart. Try that again” He smacks your ass again, pulling his hand out of your hair to hold your back down from the waist. 

“Three, fuck. Yes, Eddie, I-I do” you exhale and prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“Good girl,” he says. Good girl. He could easily smack you in the face and that is would shock you less. Where the fuck did he learn all this shit?

By the time you’ve reached spank number ten you think you're ready to tap out. Tears welling in your eyes, making your vision go blurry. You're turned on, but Eddie’s heavy hand is becoming too painful.

He notices you trying to squirm away from him with every hit of his hand, all he says is “You know what to say, don’t you, sweetheart?” 

But you let him keep going. Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen.

The last slap feels like the roughest, leaving in its wake the phantom of a heavy hand. His hand rubbing circles on your ass, almost like he doesn't feel ready to stop touching you.

You turn your head around, so you're able to see his face.

“Mmmm, so what now?” you ask, still hazy “Gonna take me home, Eddie? Finish the job?”it's like your brain has forgotten who you are talking to.

“C’mere” he says, sitting you down on the table, your ass rough and sore under the fabric of your pants.

You can feel the slick feeling between your legs through the seam of your black jeans, hoping he’d move you to keep going, take you home, his office, his van, anywhere. 

His body settles between your legs as his hands run through the expanse of your stomach, your back. Your hands make their way to the buckle of his belt, trying to quickly undo his jeans. Eddie inhales as if to convince himself to stop you as he grabs your wrists and pushes them to your chest, his belt left unbuckled “Not tonight,” he murmurs.

You pout in protest.

“Aww, you’re pouting” he mocks, a dry laugh escapes his lips. It brings a twang of embarrassment "pouting 'cause I'm not letting you take my dick in your mouth, sweetheart?" he taunts. 

“I‘m not pouting” you mutter, looking at the floor. His hands grab your chin, lifting your eyes to make you look up at him. He looks so tall standing over you like that, eyes still glossed over, pupils blown from the spanking he’s just given you. 

“You look at me when I speak to you, yeah?” Oh fuck. You know better this time. 

“Yeah” you croak out, nodding your head in case he doesn't get the message. 

“Yeah? You liked getting spanked? Being put in your place?” his demeanor never fails in making you feel impossibly small.

The hand that holds your chin travels down your neck and you lean into his touch, in the way his hand wraps itself around your throat, warm and rough. Who are you to say he isn't gonna strangle you and kill you? 

But the feeling of his hand around the column of your neck, covering its whole surface area feels too intoxicating, like you want him to make you stop thinking. Your breath hitches. 

“You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it” his grip on your neck going from resting to actually applying pressure to the sides of your throat. You gasp. 

He just watches you, eyes glossy and desperate while you try to press your thighs together to relieve some pressure. Poor thing. He almost feels bad for you. The way he sees you keen into his touch, labored breath, watching your chest rise and fall slowly. 

“We can’t do this here, Eddie. The health violations” you say,  barely a whisper, mustering whatever breath and thought you can. Your brain feels foggy and fuzzy with the slight pressure of air being constricted. He chuckles. 

“Didn’t you go to UCLA or something? Aren’t you supposed to be really smart?” his tone is mocking, you swallow at the embarrassment, hand letting up on your throat to grab your hand. He isn't here to be soft with you. He is here to make a point.

“Me choking you got you actin’ all dumb already?’M impressed. C’mon get off the table, we can’t be here” he says, making you stand up. 

“Where- where are we going?” you feel winded, and you haven't even done anything. He leads you through the cafe, the bar, the back of house, where the drying dishes sit abandoned on the rack. Right at the threshold to his back office, the cold green tile arch pressing against your back.

“I don’t know, but I really wanna kiss you right now.” and you feel like your breath has just gotten knocked out of you. He wants to kiss you?

"You wanna- huh?" he slams you against the wall, just t prove a point "Shut the fuck up" he says as he puts his lips on yours. Famished, animalistic.

There is no room for gentleness. No room for sweet caresses and soft praises. His hands groping and feeling your hips, grinding into him. The friction against his tattered jeans make a whine escape you. Too much and not enough.

His teeth clash with yours as you both open your mouths, the way he tastes made you dizzy. His mint gum and cigarettes inundate your senses as you pull at the hair tie that is keeping Eddie's unruly hair in place.

Reaching under the mane of hair, you pull at his nape, where his curls are smaller, more defined. He groans.

His nose skims your jaw and licks at the hinge between the bone and your neck, making you yelp. A small oh escapes you when his hands work to untuck your shirt out of your jeans, his cold hands sneaking past the barrier of clothing to touch at the skin of your stomach, the sides of your breasts.

His mouth is warm against your neck, tracing every ridge, every line, every mole, 'til he reaches the juncture between your neck and your shoulder and he bites.

"Eddie, you fucking freak don't bite me" you hiss, head thrown back as he lifts your shirt up, leaving it completely abandoned on the floor.

He moves you off the wall and into his office, mouth not stopping his assault on your neck, stumbling towards his cluttered desk. With one move, a space big enough for you to sit is created. His shirt comes off in the process. His pale chest, skinny, but toned and littered with tattoos, is the only thing you are able to pay attention to.

"I hear that fucking word come outta your mouth again I'll-" he begins.

"You what? More spanking? Consider me terrified" you interrupt, all an evil plan to egg him on. Blinking your eyes up at him. He is seething.

"God, do you ever shut up?" he asks, a groan leaving his lips continuing to kiss you, teeth and tongue and spit, his hands coming out from under your shirt to grab your chin.

You look up at him, hair wild and unruly, eyes blown out, a wicked glint in his eye, almost like he's plotting something.

“Open your mouth” he says, and you looked at him, a puzzled look on your face. He squeezes your cheeks in response, forcing your mouth open. “You fucking brat” he mutters.

You keep your mouth open, expecting his finger, something. Instead, a glob of spit makes its way onto your tongue. He spit in your mouth. You throb.

“Eddie what the fuck-” you begin, but he interrupts you.

“You didn’t seem to mind spitting in my coffee, did you? Consider this a payback. Swallow it.” he smirks against your lips, lightly tapping his fingers on your cheek, not quite a slap. You obey immediately for the first time that night.

His hand travels down to the seam of your jeans, your breath becoming more labored with all the building tension from the night.

“Eddie…please” you whine, arching into his hand, not wanting to pull back anymore. You want release, brain hazy with the feeling of being under him, the way his rough hands are touching you, exploring you, grabbing and groping at the curves of your body as you arch into him.

His hand begins moving back and forth, the heel of his palm making direct contact with the seam of your pants, forcing a strangled whine out of you.

You grind your hips in sync with his hand, as the other sits on your cheek, cupping it, moaning in his mouth at the small amount of friction he's giving you. “Can I take your pants off?” he asks, soft against your mouth. You’ve never nodded so fast in your life.

He quickly makes work of taking your shoes and jeans off, pooled at his feet while his hands caress and grope their way up your thighs.

“You’re cute when you’re not being a cunt, you know that?” he whispers against your mouth, hand ghosting over your panties, practically feeling the heat radiating off of you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you say through gritted teeth, motioning to hit him in the chest. He stops you, grabbing your wrists with his hands.

“I suggest keeping that filthy mouth at bay if you really want me to do something about that big, wet patch on your panties, hm?” he whispers, licking your bottom lip, his hand still keeping an iron grip on your wrists.

“How ‘bout you stop being a cunt and fuck me?” you’ve had enough of his teasing and taunting.

“Who said anything about fucking?” he chuckles, his hand moving down to grope at your ass. “No, see, that would be improper, don’t you think? Fucking your boss in his office. You kinky bitch” he delivers a sharp smack down to your ass, reviving the dull sting from the spanking earlier.

“You’re not my fucking boss, Eddie. Stop talking and- ohmygod”

His other hand begins massaging over the crotch of your panties, making direct contact with your clit over the fabric. “Made you this wet from spanking you? Think you might have actually been the freak this whole time, sweetheart.” He hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties “Lift.” He taps your thigh, you immediately lift your hips to let him take your panties off.

He laughs when he sees the mess that he’s made of your pussy.

“Fuck stop- stop laughing” you whisper out while his hands begin to spread your legs further.

“I think you secretly love me laughing at you. You think you’re so tough, bein’ all mean, callin’ me a freak like it doesn’t turn you on just imagining how much of a fucking freak I really am, huh sweetheart?” he skims your jaw with his nose, his words making you shiver as you clench around nothing.

His free hand sneaking its way around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you squeak.

Your hips lift off the desk, looking to find some kind of stimulation aside from Eddie’s cruel teasing touches.

He looks at you through his dark lashes “What is it, baby?” baby. baby. baby. The nickname makes your head spin.

“Eddie, I- fuck- please! I need-” your hips arch off the wooden surface as you feel his fingers prod your entrance.

“You need my fingers? Can you ask me nicely?” you want to kill him. He's reveling in the torture that he's putting you through.

“I f-ucking ah hate you” but you aren't really sure if you believe that yourself.

“You hate me sweetheart? I’m hurt. You won’t mind then if I just leave you here, do you?” he caresses over your inner thigh, the tips of his fingers coated in slick, clear arousal.

“No!” your hips lift once again “your fingers…please” His smile is pleased as one of his fingers enter you.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it? Good girl.” He's making your head spin, a choked noise leaves your lips as he pumps his finger in and out, finally getting the stimulation you need.

“More” you whisper, his other hand still on your throat.

“So greedy. Y’gonna thank me? Say ‘thank you, Eddie’”

At that point you can't even think about acting up. “F-fuck. Thank- thank you Eddie” and with that, he adds another finger.

God, you already feel so full and teetering the edge.

“Good girl. Now that I think about it, I believe you owe me an apology” he begins, his fingers working mercilessly inside you, while a string of breathy ah ah ahs are all the sounds you could muster.

“You were so mean to me the other day, I didn’t appreciate your tone while you were trying to apologize” he taunts, his fingers prodding deeper inside you. A small yelp escapes you.

“You were- you were ah” his fingers curl on your g-spot and your vision goes white.

“What was that? I was what, baby?” he begins to thumb at your clit, smiling like a maniac at the state he's reducing you in.

“Oh yes there” no idea how you're gonna finish your sentence.

“Feels good huh? Needa finish what you were saying, sweetheart, can’t have you going stupid on me just yet” his hand on your throat moves up to your cheek, delivering a couple light smacks to your face. You clench.

“Fuck, uh, you we-were being a oh god cunt” you say, mustering all the mental strength you can.

“Is that right? Funny how my fingers are in yours right now and you don’t seem to complain.” He laughs to himself, his thumb speeding up its assault on your clit.

“C’mon, sweetheart. I just need you to say ‘Sorry Eddie, I won’t be a bitch to you again.’ Can you say that or is your brain too fucking far gone to understand a single word i’m saying?” he teases, which briefly brings you back from the ecstasy of Eddie’s fingers working wonders on you.

“Fuck you, Eddie” you hiss through your teeth, immediately regretting it at the feeling of the coil in your belly beginning to tighten.

“Oh. It’s like that then. Alright” he simply says as he picks up his pace. Head thrown back as you revel in the feeling of nearing the edge of your release.

“Oh shit, get-getting close” you breathe.

“Apologize and I’ll let you cum” he smiles, a wicked show of bared teeth that only makes you both want to punch him and fuck him.

“Fuck n- Oh God- ‘m not apologizing for- for shit” you arch your back, trying to make yourself cum before he changes his mind.

“Fucking apologize” he insists.

“Fuck you” you say, followed by the unwelcome feeling of emptiness as he takes his fingers out. You really thought he was bluffing.

An empty ache grows in your stomach, feeling unfulfilled and disappointed. You sit there in disbelief, as he cleans his fingers off with a tissue.

“Pity” he shrugs “Get dressed, I’m taking you home” he turns around, heading towards the front.

You throw the box of kleenex at his head. You miss.

“You’re a real asshole, you know that?” you jump off his desk, ignoring the dull throb between your legs as you put your panties and jeans back on, following the trail of your clothes he left in his wake.

“Could’ve said sorry” he just says, closing up the register, while you put on your shirt and shoes “C’mon my van is around the back” he offers, grabbing his keys.

“I’m not fucking getting in your car. I can drive” you protest.

“Yeah, uh huh, you and what car, you fucking liar? Saw you at the bus stop the other day, and your car isn’t in the parking lot. You either let me drive or you can sleep in here tonight.”

You let him drive you home. The sound of Judas Priest blaring through the speaker only makes the stubborn silence between you two louder.

The ten minute drive to your house feels like an hour, as you itch to get off the dingy van and take care of what he left unfinished.

He finally parks up in front of your house, you quickly book it towards your door as he shouts “You’re welcome sweetheart” before you fumble with the keys and enter inside. He stays there until you do.

Your dad was asleep already, so you crack his bedroom door to check up on him. You sigh. Everything seems to be alright.

Once all the lights are off, you run towards your room. Still in disbelief of what happened with Eddie, you strip off your coffee- smelling clothes, wincing at the thought of Eddie’s hands sneaking under your shirt, his fingers hooking on the sides of your panties.

The feeling of hatred and arousal battling each other off while you recall his stupid smiling face as he removed his fingers from inside you. The dull empty ache as you came down from the euphoria of his touch and words.

That night, you kick yourself for not saying sorry to him.

[letterstotheflre]

i think that it's best if we both stay

summary: the morning after your argument with james

warnings: just the tiniest of smut at the end (nothing too explicit), a little bit of angst maybe.

18+ ONLY || MINORS DON'T INTERACT OR I'LL BLOCK YOU

a/n: wow no one told me how therapeutic this would be

The tiles of the kitchen floor are cold under your bare feet.

You stare unblinkingly at the boiling kettle, wrapping your fuzzy robe tighter around you while you wait for the tell-tale whistling sound. Your heart and mind ache, the emotional intensity from the previous night taking a toll on your soul.  After the fight with James, the bed was too empty, too cold. You hadn’t been able to sleep, too accustomed to James’s body heat and having his limbs always attached to yours.

It’s not very common for James and you to fight. You do have a temper, but most of your arguments were petty and got resolved in a few minutes. But last night was different.

The kettle starts to whistle, pulling you from your reverie and you finally notice the smoke coming out of it. With an exhausted sigh, you turn off the stove and take the cup you had filled with coffee grounds, then pour the boiling water. As you stir the coffee, you hear feet shuffling behind you.

James pauses, lowering his hand that was rubbing the knot on his neck from sleeping on the couch as he stares at you. “Mornin’,” he says cautiously.

There’s a stray curl of hair that hangs in front of his forehead, and your fingers ache to push it back. You grab the cup and take a sip, burning your tongue slightly in your haste to quell your need to touch him.

“Morning,” you greet back, watching as he opens the fridge and takes out a couple of eggs. “Coffee?” you offer, trying to subtly raise a white flag.

“Sure,” he shrugs, making his way to the drawer next to the oven, looking for a pan.

Communication had never been your forte, nor were apologies. Having been raised in a house where fights broke out every single day, where your mom carried her anger at the world back home and took it out on you with no ounce of regret, had not prepared you for good and healthy relationships.

Unfortunately for you, James was the opposite. His parents were doting, always there to show him love and affection, and teach him how to properly communicate with others. James had a kind soul and had a way with words that allowed him to make anyone believe in themselves. To him, communication was key. He was always the bigger person, the one in the relationship who was willing to sit down and talk about any issues instead of hiding them under the rug.

You hated him for it, because he forced you to be self-aware and take responsibility for your actions, something you had never had to do before. And the idea of talking about last night, about the underlying issues you had that you took out on him, makes you want to hurl.

But you remember reading somewhere that you should never leave a fight unresolved. And you love James too much. So much so that you’re willing to bare your insecurities to him in a way you’ve never done before.

You take a deep breath before saying, “I think we should talk about last night.”

James looks at you surprised. He wasn’t expecting you to take the first step, and he feels a little proud at how far you’ve come from the girl who swept everything under the rug. “Okay,” he says easily. “Just wait a second.”

He walks out of the kitchen, and you’re left there confused. You can hear him walking down the hall and opening a door, although there was no jingle of keys so you know he didn’t leave the apartment. You busy yourself by making James his cup of coffee, adding the milk and sugar right before he’s back. You can’t believe your eyes when you turn around.

James stands in front of you with a helmet on. “Okay, let’s talk,” he says while fastening the belt under his chin.

A smile threatens to pull on your lips, but you force it down. “I’m sorry,” you whisper, passing him the cup.

“Are you sorry about throwing your phone at me or about accusing me of cheating on you?” he asks after taking a sip of the coffee.

Heat floods your face, completely embarrassed. “Both. Mainly the, um, the cheating accusation.”

Silence. James watches you expectantly, leaning against the kitchen mantle and sipping on his coffee leisurely as he waits for an explanation.

Right, you sigh quietly. You try to find the words, a way to convey one of your deepest insecurities, but all that you can say is, “It’s always been her, you know?”

James knows who you are talking about. You had never said it aloud, but he could tell just by watching you two interact. He stays silent, hoping that this way you can let out everything you’ve been keeping close to your heart.

“It’s just… she’s always been the one. The prettiest, the funniest, the smartest, the one all the guys want. Never me,” you swallow harshly, feeling the lump in your throat contract. “And when it was me, they always left me for her. And I– I see the way she looks at you,” your voice breaks, a couple of tears falling down your cheeks.

James can’t take it anymore. He places the mug down and walks towards you, cradling your face and swiping away the wetness. He wants to shush you, to comfort you and pick you up and carry you to bed so you can lay together, but once you opened the lid you can’t stop talking.

“I see the way she looks at you,” you repeat, pain obvious in your statement. “And the only thing I can think of is how long before you leave me for her. Because it’s always her. And m-maybe, if I force you out, it’ll hurt less when you go.” Your hands are on his face, committing every pore, every hair, every inch of skin to memory. “But I don’t want you to go,” you cry.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, pulling you into his arms and hugging you tightly. You sob against his chest, yet your heart feels lighter. There’s no more weight on your shoulders. “I’m staying right here, okay? I’m not leaving.”

“I’m sorry,” you sob, your whole body shaking in his arms. “I’m sorry about yesterday a–and about the things I said and f-for throwing the phone at you and for making you sleep on the c-couch!”

James rubs his palm along your back, his other hand keeping you close to him. “I know, baby, I know. It’s okay now, I understand. I forgive you, angel.”

You sob harder at that, squeezing his middle and burrowing your face in his chest, trying to claw your way inside his body and under his skin. “You shouldn’t! I was mean and you didn’t deserve it.”

James sighs, trying to unwrap you from himself so you can look at him. You refuse to let go, though, so he settles back into his previous positon. “I didn’t, but I understand why you reacted that way. That’s why I forgive you,” he tries to explain, not expecting this kind of emotional reaction from you. It’s been a strange couple of hours, so he treads carefully. “I wasn’t mad at you, baby, I was just confused. Thank you for explaining it to me, I know how hard this is for you. M’very proud of you.”

This time you pull away from him, staring disbelievingly at him through water-logged lashes. “Why are you saying those things?! You should be angry!”

“Because I know you’re not used to expressing your feelings, ‘n I‘m very happy you did. I knew you didn’t mean what you said yesterday, but I didn’t know why you were saying it. Now I do, ‘n I forgive you.” He shrugs, like it’s the most normal reaction to an argument.

You throw yourself at him, kissing him soundly. James hmphs! At the sudden impact, but picks you up and kisses you back. You wrap your legs around his waist and ground your hips against him. James groans into your mouth, taking a handful of your ass and squeezing it.

He walks blindingly to your room, bumping into the walls in his desperation to remain attached to your mouth.

“Need you,” you mumble, kissing down his neck so that he can at least use his eyes to walk.

He lays you down on the bed and stares at you. “I love you,” he says, runnings his hands down your sides, going over the curve of your waist and over your hips. You shiver at his touch, your chest panting in anticipation. “I don’t want anyone but you, you know that, right? No matter what, I’ll always choose you, because you’re my girl. My pretty girl,” he sighs, pulling off your t-shirt and cupping your breasts. You moan when he rolls your nipples between his thumb and forefinger, your hips bucking up needily. “There’s no one else for me. Just you.”

“I know,” you gasp when he rubs his bulge against your pussy. “I love you too, just– take off that damned helmet and fuck me.”

James laughs, throwing his head back. Quickly, he unfastens the buckle and takes it off, throwing it carelessly to the side, before leaning down to kiss you.

[ayamturd]

late│technoblade

summary: three times you said i love you, and the one time technoblade says it back

prompt: “I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to”

warnings: fluff and major angst, blood and death descriptions, dsmp spoilers

pairing: in-game romantic!technoblade

a/n: this is my entry for @burntcilantro​‘s 500 writing event!! much love and congratulatory to min, they’re an amazing writer and an even better person (they’re so nice, give them the support they deserve)

also i separated some of the dsmp events and spaced them out (so there’s more time between for plot purposes lol)

wc: (2.0k) - m.list

“Why are you so stupid?”

You were sat on top of a chest, holding one leg with your arms while the other was currently being wrapped by Technoblade. While you giggled at his insult, you winced once he tightened the gauze on your ankle with a glare. 

“It’s not funny, y/n.” He leaned down to bite off the rest of the wrapping, finishing the fold as you huffed at his seriousness.

“I told you to watch the house, not climb onto the roof and play a fun game of risk. What were you thinking?”

His stare was heavy and made you feel little as he looked down at you. The tone of the room changed as you lost the humor in the situation, his concern overpowered by the anger laced in his voice.

“I just wanted to help,” you stated, turning your face away, discouraged, with your arms crossed. “You’ve been getting the all the resources lately and haven’t let me even step off the damn property.”

Looking down, you fiddled with your fingers as to avoid his gaze. “I wanted to try and fix the wood panelings that have been leaking, that’s all.” 

The silence was harsh, and you swallowed deeply at how uncomfortably stiff the air became. Technoblade opened his mouth to speak but quickly closed it shut with no words to voice.

With a shaky breath, you gripped the edge of the wood and slowly lowered yourself onto your foot; you didn’t plan on staying here just so he couldn’t say anything more. Technoblade was quick to steady his arms around you in case you fell, but you immediately pushed his hand away aggressively and stood with all your weight on your healthy foot.

Arms out to balance, as you tried to take the first step on your bad foot, you crumpled into your self with a yelp from the pain and collapsed. Ready as always, Techno caught you from behind and guided you to the nearest chair. 

You flinched from the small movement but sighed once sitting again. Techno crouched in front of you to check how you physically were, but your eyes were closed shut as you tried to collect your breathing. 

“Y/n,” Techno call out. Calming yourself down, you opened your eyes to meet his; he was much more sincere before, his face soft as he spoke gently to you. 

“Hey, I’m sorry.” Looking down, Technoblade paused as to gather his thoughts before explaining himself further. 

“I know I’ve been overbearing since the attempted execution,” you reached a hand towards his cheek when he mentioned the recent event, which he leaned into as he continued with closed eyes, “but please know it’s from a place of concern. I just- I don’t want anything to happen to you. I can’t let anything happen to you. I-I…”

“I know. Trust me, I know.” You spoke for him as you pulled him into your chest, hugging his large frame as best as you could. He relaxed into your hold with a sigh of relief. 

“I love you, Techno.” You kissed the top of his head, and he only burrowed himself deeper into the hug.

“I’m so sorry, love.”

Technoblade was hunched over on the front lawn, hands on his head while trembling from the overwhelming pain of the voices. He whimpered at your words, indicating he heard you to some extent.

He had come home, alone, and fell to his knees at the sight of you when you opened the door. Immediately, you had rushed over to him and skid to your own knees to comfort him, but he grunted from your attempts to touch him; even when under the influence, he was still conscious enough to fear for your own safety relative to the blind rage of the voices. 

You had tried talking to him, attempted to get him to give you any context to what was causing his anger, which he answered with snarling growls in return. “Tommy… left… betrayed. Chose government.” 

While broken into murmured words, you understood instantly and tried to bring him back in spite needing to quench your own anger from Tommy’s departure. You rested your palms into the snow, lowering your head as much as possible to meet his bowed head. 

You peered up at him despite his own eyes screwed shut from the unbearable chaos that roared within his head, and called out to him as softly as you could. It was a stretch, but you hoped you could soothe him down by talking.

“Hey bubs, just listen to my voice, alright? You hear me now yes? You can understand what I’m saying?” Patiently waiting, you watched him closely until he gave the smallest nod, fists still pushed against his skull and twisting from the ache. 

“That’s good, that’s really good, love. You hear my voice, now listen to my words.” Slowly, you leaned close enough to whisper to him directly. 

“I’m here, okay? I’m so sorry about Tommy, I know how much you cared for him. I still care for him too, and I know it hurts right now, but rest assured I’m still here. I’m here Techno, and I’m never leaving you.”

With clenched teeth, he let out a sob at your declaration and pushed his head against you. You took his permission to touch him promptly, gripping him with as much strength as you could carry so he felt stable and secure. 

You squeezed him, desperate to ground him from slipping further, and rocked the both of you. He released a shuttered breath, and you kissed his skin gently.

“I love you, you know? I will always be here and I’ll always love you, no matter what.”

He clutched you with his entire being, your words and presence more than he could ever ask and want. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?”

You grinned widely at his words, smile almost sadistic as you glanced at him with your arms propped on the axe you carried above your shoulders. 

“What ever could you mean?” Despite the roll of his eyes, he did nothing to hide his own amusement to your eagerness to the upcoming destruction you were to bring. He chuckled, his deep laughter making you smile more softly to how genuine he was as you walked besides him. Hand raised to wave his rocket launcher, he focused ahead proud. 

“We’re quite the pair, aren’t we?” Turning to look at you again, you stared at him adoringly and smirked slightly while bashful to his confident manner. “We are indeed.”

It became relatively silent as you walked through the layered snow, feet crunching from your steady pace. You continued to take random glances at him, Technoblade doing the same until you both heard a loud groan. 

“My god, you two are insufferable, I can’t deal with this right now.” Dream sneered at you specifically, as if you were the cause for his own discomfort, and walked through you both.

“I’ll meet you guys there instead, but hurry.” Swiftly, he pulled out an ender pearl and threw it a few yards ahead towards the portal, his figure disappearing altogether. 

You stared in disbelief from his actions until a cough interrupted your thoughts once more. “You know what,” Phil avoided looking at you both, his hands tapping together awkwardly as he walked ahead as well but turned to address you while moving backwards. 

“I’ll see you guys there too, just, be sure to be quick?” You both nodded wordlessly, and he took his leave in fast haste. 

Standing there alone, you risked another glance at him and met his eyes, laughing loudly at the circumstances. 

Technoblade held a hand to his face, body shaking from his laughter while you were endlessly giggling, holding your stomach from the pain. Eventually, your fits faded with large smiles, and you faced him with a shake of your head. 

“I didn’t realize we’d be one of those couples.” Technoblade sighed, though you could tell it was for play, and nodded. “A shame really, I never thought this day would come.” 

You giggled again, and chose to move closer, tilting your head upwards at him with a sweet beam while leaning onto your axe. He gave you a small smile in return, however his faded immediately after. 

Lifting his open hand, he cupped your cheek and bent down to kiss your forehead, touching yours together after with his eyes closed. “Promise me you’ll be safe? I trust you to protect yourself, but for me, stay safe when things start to go bad?”

While you knew it was impossible to guarantee you’d stay away from the majority of the danger, you knew better than to leave his concern unanswered and open. 

“I promise,” you murmured, “for you, I promise.”

He pulled you against his chest this time, engulfing you completely and holding the back of your head earnestly to his heart. 

“I love you,” you voiced, your words muffled into his armor and coat. He hummed while looking ahead, his eyes trained on the glowing portal that called towards him. This was a war he refused to leave with mercy, the price of your peaceful lives together on the line. 

“No…”

There was too much blood. The thick liquid stained every surface and soaked through his coat that he pushed against your wound. 

Internally panicking from your tight expressions of discomfort, Technoblade desperately searched through his inventory for something, anything, that could heal or at the very least help you. He was forced to face the reality that he used all his potions during the midst of battle and combat. He couldn’t do anything. 

“Why, why why,” he snarled, his eyes clouding with an outset of tears he couldn’t care for. “Why are you so stupid.” His voice caught in his throat from his conflicted emotions and he tightened his hold on the fabric pushed against your stomach; the pain had faded at this point, and you were numb to the constant pressure he tried to hold. 

“I’m so sorry, love. I lied.” Your voice was light and strained, but Technoblade refused to accept the situation for what it was. He turned to a perched crow, screaming at it to get Phil and scaring it away with a slash of his sword, before tucking his head down in an almost silent plea. 

“Why do you have to be too reckless for your own good?” he whispered. Though he tried to be delicate, he couldn’t help how tight he held your hand. 

“I’d do anything for you, whether or not you ask me to.” You gave a tired grin as your eyes began to droop, hand tightening on his, however incredibly weak in comparison. 

“I asked you to be safe,” he cried, body stricken with grief as he abandoned his hold on your stomach and instead shakily held your face, your own blood smearing against your skin from his callous fingers. “I needed you safe.”

You placed a hand over his, using all your strength to relish in his touch and kissing the inner of his palm. “Yet you needed my love more.” 

He choked out a sob from your admittance, and pulled you into his chest, your body limp, as he rocked you slightly. “I’ll always be there for you, and love you more than I could for my own safety.”

The ruins echoed the wails of a tormented heart on the broken landscape of a haunted battlefield that called for death and devastation. The smoke and clouds of destruction reigned above, and despite the final end to the corrupted nation that was built on nothing but lies and deceit after a helpless man’s death, Technoblade couldn’t bring himself to care. 

“I love you,” he uttered, the words he struggled for oh so long to express finally free from its cage. “I love you, y/n. I love you so much.”

His words fell on deaf ears, and he screamed in agony at the truth that laid before him.

He was too late.

[tryingmybestpls]

It Will Come Back

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Sam Wilson x Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes works up the courage to visit the Reader and her newborn daughter.

Word Count: 2.3k

Rating: R

Warnings: Angst, some fluff thrown in here and there

Bucky stood awkwardly on the steps leading up to the house, a small brown teddy bear clutched in his leather covered hand. The soldier shifted from one foot to the other, working up the courage to knock on the door.

Sam had told Bucky that he needed to go see her.

Sam had already done more than his part. He had waited for hours with Y/N while she was in labor and had stayed in the waiting room while she was giving birth. Sam had been texting Bucky the whole time, giving him updates. Doctor says not too long now. Waiting in the waiting room now. The kid is as healthy as a horse. She lost a lot of blood, they're going to keep her a few days. They're going home now. The kid looks just like him.

Him.

The man that should be here. The man that should be there with his wife, that should be  catering to her every need. The man who should have been over the damn moon to stand beside his wife as she gave birth to their child. The man that had known his wife was expecting but decided to leave anyway.

That man was now rotting away in a wooden box, next to his mother.

Bucky lifts his flesh hand to the door, his knuckles rapping on the wood as he shoved his emotions aside, knowing that the anger would do him no good here. He swallowed the bile that was threatening to rise up his throat. He can't remember ever feeling this nervous-No, that's a lie. The soldier can remember the last time he felt a sinking feeling his stomach and had acid climbing up his esophagus. It was when he stood beside Steve on that snowy cliff in 1945. Minutes before he'd fall off that train and-

The door swings open just as he feels a sharp pain in his left shoulder.

"Is that a teddy bear?" Sam questions, raising a brow as he looked down to the stuffed animal that was currently being strangled in Bucky's left hand. James can feel his cheeks growing warm, the tips of his exposed ears reddening.

"It's-it's for the kid." Bucky replies, sounding more than slightly annoyed. Sam snorts, stepping back and opening the door a bit wider.   The super soldier steps over the threshold and into the home.

The house is incredibly clean-almost ridiculously clean. Not a thing is out of place and there's a candle burning nearby that makes the entire foyer smell like lemons. Bucky feels incredibly out of place, especially as he starts to look at all of the photos of Y/N and his best friend at different parts of their life together. He already had a happy ending. Why did he have to go find another one?

"Sam, who's there?" Y/N calls out from the living room, hidden from view. Bucky looks away from a picture of the couple at their wedding just as Sam shuts the door. He moves past Buck, who follows a few steps behind. More pictures cover the walls of the hallway leading to the main living room and kitchen area. It's almost like a little gallery dedicated to life of two superheroes and their friends. Bucky even sees a couple of old pictures of him and Steve on the walls.

"I found a stray outside." Sam teases as they walk into the living room, making Bucky roll his eyes. His blue eyes immediately land on the woman sitting on the couch. Y/N Rogers looks like a renaissance painting of the Madonna as she holds her child almost elegantly. Bucky had expected to see a tired, drained woman but instead she looks like she's glowing. Y/N's eyes seem to brighten and she sits up a little straighter, a smile stretching across her face.

Y/N and Bucky have never been close. All of their interactions had centered around or included Steve. She has always been nice to him, even when he knew that he didn't deserve it. Even at the funeral, Y/N had offered him a kind smile and squeezed his arm in a comforting way. It should have been-and probably was-the worst day of her life, yet she still was being nice to him.

"Bucky! It's so nice to see you." Y/N greets him, shifting again on the couch, trying to get comfortable while also trying to not wake the child in her arms.

"Hey Y/N." Bucky replies, lifting his hand up to wave, his uncomfortableness as clear as day. A thick blanket of silence settled over the three adults. Y/N's mouth kept opening and shutting, unable to think of something to say while the super soldier looked down at his boots, wishing that the ground would just open up and swallow him whole. A minute or two passes before Sam loudly clears his throat.

"Hey, I'm going to go the store to pick up a few things. Text me if you need anything, Y/N." Sam announces, cutting through the silence as he looks at both of them. Y/N nods, giving him a thankful smile before Sam walks past Bucky, sending him a look. The new mother waits for the door to open and shut before she turns her attention back to Barnes.

"You didn't have to come. I know you don't really feel comfortable with all of this." Y/N announces, cradling the bundle of fabric in her arms as she  offers him a weak smile. It's like a weight has been lifted off of his shoulders and he visibly relaxes.

"It's alright. I got-I got this. For the kid." Bucky tells her lamely, lifting up the bear. Y/N's smile only grows, as if the stupid teddy bear was the greatest present in the Galaxy. Behind her, every surface of the kitchen was covered in gift baskets, huge vases of flowers, and balloons all celebrating and congratulating the new mother. The teddy bear seemed inconsequential compared to all of those.

"Thank you, Bucky. That's really sweet of you. I'm sure she's gonna love it." She replies, actually sounding sincere, as if the other gifts weren't there. Her eyes drift down to the bundle in her arms. Bucky sees it for a second-a flash of sadness in her eyes as she looks down at her daughter. The smile stretched on her face falters for a moment.

"Are you...Are you feeling okay?" Bucky asks, immediately feeling stupid as soon as the words leave his mouth. Y/N pauses for a moment, inhaling sharply. She's been caught and she knows it. The smile fades and it's like the room darkens without it.

"I just-This isn't exactly how I thought things were going to turn out." She confesses, her eyes staying on her child of a few seconds longer before she looks up at him. Y/N is still hiding her emotions, keeping them buried down deep inside her. Even so, James can see the hurt in her eyes as she continues, "But things never really turn out the way we want it, right?"

"I-I'm sorry." Bucky didn't know what else to say. He wasn't the best at emotions, whether that be his own's or others. The ex-assassin knew that she had more to say, but didn't know if he should prod or just let it be. He wondered how long Y/N has been upset. It must've been for awhile, especially with how quickly her mood changed once Sam had left. How long has she been keeping her feelings under a lock and key? Bucky was angry at his best friend for abandoning his wife and daughter, for throwing them away with a second thought.

If he could, he'd haul the man back from where he is now and beat the crap out of hi .

"It's not your fault, Bucky." The Avenger responds, her attention going back to the sleeping child in her arms, signaling the end of the conversation. The words echoed in Bucky's head. It's not your fault, Bucky. He knew exactly what she meant.

It's all his fault.

It's all Steve's fault.

"Here-uh-if you want, you can sit right here." Y/N changes the subject, offering him a smile as she motions to the seat beside her. And just like that, she's happy again. All that hurt and sadness has been tucked away, replaced by a saccharine sweet joy that somehow seems genuine.

His eyes glance to empty space beside her. Should he sit down? She said he could if he wanted to. A part of him didn't know why he was hesitating so much. He's been around babies before. He's held them, fed them, changed them. He was the oldest after all and his ma always needed help. Another part of him, the more cynical part of him reminded him that all of that was an entire lifetime ago. Things had changed and he-could he even trust himself around something so small, something so precious?Bucky feels his mouth dry as his mind works on overtime, but despite his apprehension, his feet carry him over to the couch. He sits down beside her, his eyes immediately landing on the sleeping baby in her arms, his breath catching in his throat.

Sam was right. The kid was a splitting image of Steve.

"Bucky, this is Natalia Sarah Rogers. Talia, this is your Uncle Bucky." Y/N says sweetly, a smile on her face as she tilts the sleeping newborn in her arms so that he could see her. His eyes stay on the child as she explains, "Natalia for Nat, Sarah for Steve's mom."

Bucky wants to say something.

He wants to make a comment about how Y/N, after everything Steve had done to her, could still name the baby after Steve's mom. Bucky wants to tell her that Steve didn't deserve her, not one bit. He wants her to know that she and that baby deserved way better than the situation they're in.

"It's very nice to meet you, Talia." Bucky decides to say instead, offering the sleeping newborn an awkward smile. The interaction makes Y/N grin for a few seconds, but it quickly fades. Once again, that sad look appears in her eyes and this time it lingers. Bucky swallows hard, debating on what he's going to say next. He decides go throw caution to the wind and do exactly what his therapist would want him to do.

Talk to someone about their feelings.

"You miss him." The soldier states the obvious, knowing that he's treading into dangerous territory, knowing that he's overstepping boundaries. Who is he to come into this woman's house and talk to her about her dead husband days after her child is born? They aren't friends-hell, they're barely acquaintances. She probably only invited him over because he was best friends with her husband. Bucky waits for her to yell at him, but she never does.

"Every day." She replies, a watery smile appearing on her face as her eyes study Talia's sleeping face, "I miss him a lot more when I look at her."

"I'm sorry that he isn't here." Once more the ex-assassin apologizes and once again, Y/N brushes it off, shaking her head.

"You don't have to apologize for him. He-Steve made his choice." Her voice is steady, but her emotions are as clear as day. Y/N's eyes are brimming with tears as she lets out a shaky breath, "I-I didn't even want kids, he did. I thought that this would make him happy and-"

She sniffles and the sound nearly breaks Bucky's heart.

"I must sound like such a shitty person-like-like a shitty mom. I love her it's just-I didn't want to be doing all of this by myself." Y/N all but sobs out, tears rolling down her cheeks as she adds, "And I'm grateful for Sam and you and everyone else it's just-"

"It's not him." Bucky finishes for her, to which Y/N nods. The baby stirs in Y/N's arms, lifting her tiny mitten covered hands up to her face as she makes little noises. Once again their eyes are on little Talia, watching carefully as her eyes  flutter open. She has her mother's eyes, Bucky realizes.

The two adults stay quiet for a few moments as Talia slowly wakes up. She continue to make little sounds-mainly grunts-as she wiggles around.  The cogs in Bucky's mind are turning, working hard to find something he could say that would bring Y/N some sort of comfort in this situation.

"I don't think you sound like shitty person. You're still hurting, still mourning. It's going to take time." The words sound heavy and foreign coming out of his mouth, but they make the corner of Y/N's mouth tilt upwards ever so slightly. She doesn't have to know that those were the same words Dr. Raynor had told him yesterday.

"When did you become so deep?" She questions, sniffling as she shifts beside him. Barnes leans back into the couch, fiddling with his leather glove as he looks at her, watching as some of that sadness lets her go.

"Court mandated therapy." He answers, which of course only makes the smile on her face grow as chuckle escapes her mouth. Bucky can't stop himself from smiling a real, genuine smile right back at her as he shakes his head at his own stupid little joke. He knows that he didn't magically solve Y/N's issues or really make her feel better, but she's smiling again and her tears are drying on her cheeks so he must've done something right.

"Thanks Buck. I really appreciate it." Y/N tells him honestly, turning her head to look at him. He  nods in response, unable to stop smiling as she asks, "So, should we see if Talia likes that bear or what?"

[bakugosbratx]

Warning: NSFW 18+ Content. Sexual intercourse, angst, pregnancy, cursing, fluff, degrading, etc.

Words: 1.6k

Check out my other works here

A/N: I just realized there isn’t much talking at all. I’ll make up for it in part four. This shit is sad. I am sad so it’s fitting. I’m sorry in advance. I hope you enjoyed.

Part Two | Finale

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @miriobaby @lanarist @peachsenpie @milkthistletea @sickchildren @bakugousbrat @lil-miminini @tremendouswolfsaladranch @ssplague @vinny-likes-to-play21

Not every story has a happy ending. Y/N is learning this the hard way.

“CEO of Bakugo Industires, Katsuki Bakugo, shows off his new girlfriend at the Industry Ceremony tonight—“

You turn your phone off. Your red, swollen tear filled eyes could not look at the words and pictures anymore. The press sure did know how to capture the model’s perfect angles. A courtesy they would never give you if you were ever lucky to fill her shoes.

The way Katsuki’s muscular arm snaked around her tiny little waist made you fall ill. The flash of his glamorous smile filled your broken one with rage.

Your ears are filled with the salty liquid that flowed from your orbs. You are not even sure how you are still breathing. It shouldn’t hurt this much. It shouldn’t feel like this. You are just fuck buddies.

Were just fuck buddies.

The words will not stop replaying in your head. It’s been over a month. It’s spinning on a broken record player. All the emotions you felt in that moment intensify with each passing day. You should hate him for abandoning you, but your heart cannot do so. All you wanted was him.

You knew better than to fall for Katsuki. He told you to keep your feelings out of your sexual relations with him yet here you are, sobbing into your bedroom pillow, a growing fetus inside of you.

The room felt restricting of your oxygen supply. The ceiling fan sent chills down your warm spine. Your body aches and your throat feels dry. Katsuki’s cruel words along with his actions strangle you. You have not been able to see straight since.

The next couple of months of work are pure hell. You did your best to avoid Katsuki and he did the same. You noticed that Katsuki did not look at you as you were the only one in the room anymore. He seemed to look past you. If you dared meet those beautiful crimson eyes for even a slight moment, you were left feeling disgusted with yourself. Katsuki has a way of speaking without actually doing so. You adored and hated that about him.

Whenever he addressed you for business matters, you had trouble formulating sentences. Your eyes always seemed to be puffy from the endless nights of hysterical tears. Katsuki’s voice held more aggression than you are used to. Maybe you wanted him to at least have some sympathy, but that was nowhere to be found. He soon stopped inviting you to meetings.

You two did a wonderful job of finding the long way around the office building. Any precaution there was to take, you both did, but no plan is bulletproof and you are going to see each other at some point.

You two have not seen each other in over a month — almost two — and you have been feeling stronger than before. Less weeping nights, you are back to eating a normal diet, and you are more well rested. The bags under your eyes became less noticeable, but they still lingered longer than one would prefer.

You dried off your hands in the restroom — the one furthest from you and Katsuki’s office — and headed out to get back to work. The hallway is quite vacant around this time of day. Everyone is either on lunch or too focused on their work before packing up for the day. Your heels echoed amongst the marble floor. Looking up, your breath hitched.

Your eyes met the ones you desperately wanted to despise. Yours held sadness and desperation while he held anger and disgust. The way Katsuki viewed you, you started to view yourself. Even if it isn’t your fault.

The glance was only a maximum of five seconds, but those five seconds felt like a decade for you two. A period of time you would come to mentally plead for overtime.

You have not seen him for another three weeks after that. The cycle repeated: you sobbed, and sobbed some more, and then you started to cry less.

Then it happened.

You are coming into work late due to a doctor's appointment. The baby is healthy as are you so that is lovely news. Something you would love to share with Katsuki if he even remembered your name.

The elevator was taking its sweet time getting up to the floor where your office is located. You felt strong. How could you not? Your baby is going to be okay from the looks of it. A little human is excited to meet you and you are becoming excited to meet them.

Maybe things are starting to fall into place.

Elevator doors open. You begin to walk forward but come to a halt with the man standing in front of you; Katsuki Bakugo.

Your heart races with your bottom lip begging to quiver. You do your best to hide it though as you brush past one another. A jolt of electricity shot through you. The slightest graze of his calloused fingertips felt so rigid yet so soft. Your instincts force you to look up to see the stranger peer down at you. The stranger you used to know.

“See me, Katsuki. See me as the woman you used to know.” You mentally beg. You just wanted him to see you as somebody. Somebody he used to want.

Katsuki paused there, speaking to you through his eyes. This time, they did not hold as much disgust as before. Maybe it’s the hormones, but you could have sworn you witnessed longing within the roots of his irises. If Katsuki was capable of processing his emotions and allowing them to show, he would write them on his features. He remains stone cold, preventing his fingertips from latching onto yours. So, awkwardly they lay, both of your breaths caught in your windpipes until Katsuki decides to break free of the shackles.

You attempted to be in Katsuki’s space more. You knew him like a book just like he did for you. You both learned each other’s frequent routines.

Awkward encounters became more frequent and you both secretly looked forward to them. Long stares that withheld unspoken phrases. Katsuki’s gazes turned from disgust to softness. Especially with your stomach starting to show as the months rolled on. Still, not a word was spoken

The corporate office began to talk. Chatter amongst Katsuki’s employees disturbed his peace of mind. He knows he has to address you at some point, but what is there to say? What could Katsuki even begin to formulate for you to understand where he is coming from? You are due sooner than he is comfortable with. There is no hiding your stomach.

You never asked a penny from him. Hell, you have not even tried to speak to him since that night. You only spoke when formally addressed. Even that was rare.

Katsuki replays that night a lot while laying in bed. He claims what you two had was just two coworkers having sexual intercourse, but nothing can hide the way he moans your name when he masturbates or has sex with someone else. The way he sees you in every female he comes into contact with. Nothing can hide the way his natural rapid heartbeat stops by the mention of your beautiful name. Don’t even get him started on the way you purposely would get on his nerves. They are all part of the list of delicate little things he missed.

You have every right to hate him. Katsuki would not blame you if you did. His hatred for himself reflected in his actions which ultimately was passed onto you. You carried that burden. He would search for the reflection of his anger in your orbs, but they held none. They held nothing but sadness and love. Love he refuses to accept.

Katsuki laid in bed, alone, allowing his mind to wander. He cursed you for keeping him awake. He is a busy man with things to do yet your features haunt him. The thought of someone else touching you the way he does killed him. He knows he would have heard muttering by now if you went to his rival yet there is silence.

You are silent.

You are falling deep into your peaceful slumber. Something you have been doing more lately. You no longer need the lullabies of your heartache and unwanted whimpers for comfort. You are more at ease.

A heavy knocking at the door startled you. Groaning and gazing at your cell phone, the time read the time.

1:03AM

The knocking picked up again. You are not expecting company at this hour so you take precautions. Grabbing the metal baseball bat you keep under your bed, you stroll to the door. The knocking echoed through your apartment complex much to your sleeping neighbors dismay. Your adrenaline rises with each step you take towards the door. Gazing out the peephole of your front door, you see Katsuki standing at the door.

Throwing the baseball bat to the side, you open the door.

“Katsuki, what the—“

Katsuki ushers himself in, not even giving you an opportunity to scold him or ask anymore questions. Instead, his lips are entangled with yours. Magnets desperately pulling towards each other. You attempt to push him away as you smell the alcohol lingering in his breath, but Katsuki is much stronger than you are.

Your mind is telling you to hate this, but your heart speaks otherwise as Katsuki pushes you against the beige wall, caging you in with his arms. You did not even try to stop him as he began removing any article clothing on your body. Your lips only disconnected for short seconds before meeting again. Now you are laid on the kitchen table, Katsuki’s thick erected cock deep in your pussy, begging moans escaping your parted lips.

Here we go again.

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[hoodiewithhorns]

Hmmm how about and argument scenario with Atsumu or Suna...or both 🥺

━  argument scenario with Atsumu and Suna ✧

ofc aw, also sorry if this is bad and out of character I still don't know much about these two (I'm wrapping up season 2) but I’ll do my best <3.

▲ cw : not proofread, established relationship, fem reader, crying , hurt + comfort, insecurities of abandonment , neglect, angst, slight jealousy, hint of smut at the end(for atsumu), all characters are 18+, MDNI. ▼

Atsumu 

- he had been in a bad mood from the start 

- he told you ahead of time he wasn’t feeling good so to surprise him, you went to go see him at one of his practices

- you brought him some fatty tuna and a few sports drinks to cheer up your lovely boyfriend

- arriving safe and sound with a bright smile eager to see your boyfriend

- only to find him talking to one of his fangirls, not one but 3 of them. laughing and smiling as they showered him in compliments and praise him for his athletic abilities he even let the girls touch him up for just a bit too long for your liking. 

〜 ☆

- you paused only to stare at the scene in front of you

- his brother disappointed in him, making signs that you were here waiting for him.

- he turned around to see you standing at the door frame of the gym a frozen expression plastered onto you as if you have just seen a ghost.

- those girls were pretty. prettier than you and the fact he let them touch up on him made your chest tighten. the gym was silent with only the sounds of volleyballs being thrown left and right. 

- you didn't say anything you just walked outside and waited for him to be done.

- he walked outside and drove you back home not even saying a single word.

he opened the door for you locking it once he entered as well. you still felt uneasy wanting an explanation as to why he would let those girls touch up on him like that. the way they touched his built physique left you a little hurt. you were sure if you brought it up to him it wouldn't be a problem right? just talk about it like a normal healthy couple does! right? of course!! you thought letting a few of the negative thoughts vanish from your mind.

you took a deep breath before you walked into the bedroom. Atsumu was sitting on your shared bed with his head against the headboard, scrolling through his phone watching videos to improve his spiking abilities. he seemed to be in a relaxed state, but he didn't spare a glance when you walked in. maybe he didn't hear you? you thought to yourself. the uneasy feeling overwhelming you feeling you'd breakdown at any second. 

“hey atsu.” you spoke lightly to him easing your way up to the bed. 

“what.” his tone clearly annoyed by you. you took a step back surprised by his tone and how he responded to you. he never replied with “what” it was always “yes?” or “yes my love?” taking another deep breath looking up to try and fight back your tears that were ready to stain your face at any minute now, “y-you okay baby?” you thought it’d be smarter to ask if he was still feeling okay and not bring up the fangirls..but you were dead wrong since it only set him off even more.

“I'm fine.” he grunted back at you still not looking up at you. he tightened the grip on his phone scrolling and staring at the videos more intensely now. “o-okay baby..um..” it wasn’t a good time to bring it up you already knew he was pissed off but you just wanted to get to the bottom of it immediately. if he was In a bad mood why would he talk to those girls all happy and giggly but with you a salty attitude? it didn't make sense you needed to know. “ why were those girls touching you like that.. were they your friends..?” that was the last straw for him he placed his phone down getting up to face you as you took a few steps back.

he was now hovering over you looking down at you full of anger, shivering at his mean gaze. “what's the issue? it’s just some fangirls who saw I was in a bad mood and wanted to cheer me up not like you who just walked away.” your hands were shaking at this point you felt sick to your stomach at how cruel he talked to you. how could you just stand there while girls were touching him and laughing clearly not caring he has a girlfriend?? what were you supposed to do walk towards him as if they weren’t there?

“but a-atsu I wanted to come cheer you up I made you some of your favorites-” 

“why do you care so much about some silly fangirls huh? don't we live together?? isn't that enough for you? but nooo you always have to think about yourself don't you?” he was being unreasonable at this point he knows how you get when fangirls are all over him. it was one of your insecurities that he’d reassure you didn't have to worry about since he’d never leave you, but here he was calling you selfish for caring about that.

finally, the gears in your head letting the tears promised to fall, fall down your cheeks. you sniffled rubbing your eyes as fast as you could to not let him see you but it was too late he already did. avoiding eye contact you spoke sniffling up your words.

“i just w-wanted to make you feel better why are you acting like this atsumu..”

you cried looking down as your tears hit the ground. his face switching from annoyance to concern, he messed up and he knows it. reaching out to hug you, you moved away from him and stormed out of the bedroom heading to the living room planting yourself on the couch as you hid underneath the covers to cry your little heart out. he followed you out the bedroom looking over at the meal and drinks you had planned for him. his favorite food and sports drink with a note written in your pretty handwriting he loved so much.

“I hope this makes you feel better baby! I love you so much!♡ xoxo”

- with much love y/n 

feeling his heart crack realizing the number he did on you just now. you had every right to be upset he knew you seeing him around other girls would’ve set you off he just wanted to appear as charming as possible. if his fangirls knew he was in a bad mood it would’ve caused his reputation to sink to the ground. still, he knows he shouldn’t have let them touch him like that especially if he had you at home. he let out a sigh walking up to the couch sitting right next to you with his head thrown back on the couch eyes never leaving you, watching and hearing you carefully. 

your sniffles did so much damage to him it already hurt him when he saw you cry, but crying because of something inconsiderate he did hurt him even more.

he pulled the covers down to reveal your redden tear-stained faced stilling sniffling but not fighting back when he pulled you into his chest. how could you fight back? you loved him you never want to consider leaving him as an option. you just wanted to fix things and so you let out a soft apology as he rubbed comforting circles on your back.

“no baby I'm sorry...I was being stupid and was in a bad mood but that doesn't give me the right to hurt you like this..” his voice soft yet firm making you ease up more into his chest as you sat in his lap to face him wrapping your arms around his neck.

he looked like a sad puppy he felt bad he really did which brought you to kiss him on the lips he smiled into the kiss feeling relieved. this lasted for what felt like forever. you pulled away and he rubbed the last bit of tears off your pretty eyes.

“I'm sorry baby I really am..I was like..an idiot sandwich you know?” you giggled at his joke making him smile as if he just won back his girlfriend. “it's okay atsu I love you.. please don't forget that okay?” he nodded pulling you in once more for a much more deeper and passionate kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist while his hands roamed your body. letting out a soft moan into the kiss, his hands went under your shirt as he pulled away smirking.

“why don't you let me make it up to you pretty girl let me show you that those silly fangirls don’t mean anything to me yeah?”

Suna 

- he was always busy with volleyball

- which meant coming home really late.

- you supported him nonetheless adoring how talented he looked going against teams

- you just felt..empty without him

- he wasn’t just your lover but... your best friend 

- you missed his touch and his presence in general

- he kept coming home late from practice each week making you miss him more and more

- some nights he wouldn't even come home and would stay at a teammate's apartment at the very last minute instead of coming home to cuddle you like how he always did.

 - this made your head spiral wondering if he even acknowledges how much you miss him. 

- you understand his practice and games end really late but still, you were his girlfriend a little reassurance through a phone call or a facetime would be enough for you to sleep alright for a night.

- his texts also caused you to feel more alone back then he would spam you with stupid stuff the twins were doing back in high school and even a little bit now with stuff his teammates were doing with the occasional “i love yous” and the simple but sweet heart emojis he’d send. now it wasn't even like that. 

you glanced at your phone and it was 11:34 PM and still no text from him or sign of his arrival. did he even care at this point? you wondered tossing and turning in your shared bed scrolling through Instagram. your eyes lit up when he messaged you. hoping maybe it would be an i love you or an apology for being so neglectful towards you. 

“hey. i’ll be coming home at 12.”

“okay tarō be safe. I love you♡”

read at 11:40 PM

you sighed feeling a little happy he at least was coming home soon. still, an I love you back would’ve been nice. you waited for him for a few more minutes trying your hardest not to fall asleep. it's been so long since you two been together or specifically seen each other. part of you was excited to see your boyfriend after weeks of not seeing him but part of you was upset. so many weeks of you being alone sleeping alone without his chest to cling on or his shoulder to lay on when you cried over your favorite shows.

you jolted up when you heard the door open finally, he was home, you happily walked to the front door. Suna took off his shoes before entering placing them at the front door. you greeted him kissing his cheek hugging him tightly, you missed this..you missed him.

“hey y/n. I'm tired do you mind?”

you pulled away looking up at his dissatisfied expression. first, he calls you by your actual name and then tells you to back off after god knows how long you’ve seen him. he walked past you heading straight to the bathroom to wash up. you stood there appalled at the fact he barely acknowledged you only to tell you back off. you couldn’t believe it but you tried to shrug it off, maybe he was in a bad mood? he’ll still cuddle you to sleep so you have that to look forward too!...you hoped.

when you walked back to the bedroom he was already going underneath the covers and you followed, going under them with him, while his back was facing you. you waited a while to see if he’d ask you if you wanted to cuddle. waiting... and still not a word not even a goodnight when he finally turned the lights off.

you missed him so much all you wanted was him to acknowledge you just a little. you moved closer to his back and hugged him from behind. 

“god, y/n why are you so needy all of a sudden?” rolling his eyes at you in annoyance. you moved your hands back to you sitting up to face him.

“why I’m so needy?? jeez tarō I don't know maybe I haven't seen my boyfriend in god knows how many weeks!” you snapped back at him causing him to get out of the bed. 

“It was 5 weeks it wasn’t even that bad!” he yelled back at you, you felt your heart become heavy looking at his eyes that had not a trace of love in them while your very own eyes felt heavy holding back tears.

“you’ve been coming home late all the damn time suna! sometimes you don't even show up! I miss you so much sometimes I....” you froze the tears finally starting to fall. “I don't even think you love me anymore..” 

he froze his eyes widening at your final words. how could he be so blind? his sweet girl had every right to be needy for him 5 weeks must've felt like an entirety to you and now that he finally gets home he's acting like an assshole to you pushing you away as if you were nothing but an obstacle. he sat back down on the bed to hug you. a genuine one full of love and regret. it was silent for a few minutes of just the two of you tight in each other's embrace. 

“I’m..sorry my love...I didn't mean to yell at you like that I miss you too I just..I'm sorry” he felt bad he didn't mean to hurt you. he knows he's at fault here and all he can do is mumble apologies while he pulls you close to him as he hides his face in the crook of your neck for comfort. you hugged back of course finally having him in your arms brought you joy. 

“it's okay tarō...I love you...we’ll be okay, okay?” he nodded planting soft kisses on your forehead. “I love you too baby..but let's go to bed my love it's getting late..” smiling he pulled you into his chest to cuddle you to sleep wiping the remaining tears you had still left in you. after a while you fell asleep in his chest while he watched you sleep peacefully.

“heh.. you’re such a crybaby .” he smiled pulling you in closer planting soft kisses on you trying not to wake you.

“I love you y/n I promise to make it all up to you.” 

[xoxo-teddybear]

Just Stay - Bakugou Katsuki

Bakugou x f!reader

Warnings: ANGST, Cursing

BAKUGOU’S MASTERLIST

Pt.1 Pt.2

Summary: It’s almost splits-ville for Bakugou and Y/N, but Bakugou’s not ready to let go.

“Hey....can we talk?”

Bakugou looked up from his seat on the couch and paused the TV to look towards Y/N. He took notice of her attire. Jacket and shoes on with her purse nearby.

The couple of 3 years had been on fighting ends for the past few months. It was always over little things and recently they had just gotten into their biggest fight over Bakugou’s jealousy. He had been wrongly suspicious of Y/N and her boss sleeping together and demanded she quit being a hero, claiming if she did he could take care of the both of them with his earnings. They fought it out with harsh words and plates being thrown across the kitchen, but eventually they made up. In the end, they were still cuddling in bed and giving each other kisses, and life was once again blissful. At least, to Bakugou. Y/N was in a different state of mind.

She had grown tired of the constant fighting. She missed her old Katsuki. The one who trusted her even with his insecurities and communicated. Now, he bottled everything up and constantly yelled. She felt like she was living in a war zone and she was losing, so she surrendered and made her decision. It was time for her to go.

“Sure babe. What’s up?” Bakugou said sitting up a little straight with a smile on his face. He felt nerves rising in his chest but he was hopeful it was nothing. He loved Y/N. Truly. Just seeing her or thinking about her gives him butterflies. He intends to marry this girl, but he can’t help his own problems. He’s been trying to deal with it himself but no progress has been made.

Y/N noticed the smile. It made her heart ache. It was the smile he always had on whenever he saw you, and it was also the smile that never stayed longer than a few minutes. After those minutes, his screaming would be introduced.

“Bakugou. Please don’t call me that right now,” Y/N said with shut eyes as she bit her lip and took a seat next to him. She didn’t sit close by like she usually did. She put some distance between them and when Bakugou tried to move in closer, she raised a hand to stop him.

“...Why can’t I call you ‘babe?’ And why the hell are you calling me ‘Bakugou?’” He seethed out. He was already pissed and it hadn’t even been 5 minutes. “Y/N! What’s going on?” He asked with concern. Y/N took a deep breath before she sighed and looked at him with sad eyes.

“I think we should break up.”

Bakugou’s eyes went wide and his anger turned off. He did a complete turn as fear and an uneasy feeling entered his system as those words left your mouth. He looked at you for any signs of weakness.

‘Maybe this is a joke. There’s no way she’s serious. She has to be lying!’ Bakugou thought to himself as he continued to shake in his seat.

“W-What?” Was the first thing he could put out. “Heh...I-I...No, you’re..you’re kidding, right?”

“Bakugou..”

“Please don’t call me that, Princess. I-It’s Suki, Katsuki, Baby, please anything but that!”

“I’m sorry....” you said with your head down and hands in your lap.

Silence fell upon the room and you could hear Bakugou’s little whimpers of weakness from time to time. You saw in your peripheral vision that he was shaking and you noticed how his eyes glistened with tears.

“Why?” He asked with a whispering voice.

“It’s just...it’s not the same anymore Bakugou. All we do is fight and yell and yeah there’s some good times in between but the bad outweighs the good,” your tears began to fall because this hurts you just as much as him. “I don’t feel like the same person anymore, Katsuki! I used to be so happy and confident and ever since we’ve been fighting I’m always upset and I feel so weak and I’m always second guessing every move I make in fear of making you upset! ....I can’t live like this anymore.” You whispered the last part.

“Do you not love me anymore?” Bakugou asked with a shaky voice. Your head snapped as your jaw dropped in shock.

“I- I love you so much! Too much! I love you so much that I’ve been destroying myself just to stay with you!” You explained.

“So then why do you want to leave me?!” He screamed.

“I don’t want to but I have to!” You said as you stood, “This isn’t healthy anymore and I’m not as happy as I used to be and you’re not the same! You’re always mad now, you’re always yelling and I don’t want to feel like I’m in a war with my own boyfriend. It’s supposed to be me and you against the world, but recently its been feeling like me vs. you.” You said.

“Then I’ll change!” He began, “I’ll do better. Work’s been stressing me out and I’ll stay home more and spend more time with you! I-I’ll stop yelling and I’ll...I’ll be nicer and be better just please stay!” He stood as he spoke. You looked up to him with tears streaming down your face and you saw as his tears fell from his cheeks and went to the floor.

“Please Y/N! You can’t do this to me, I need you so much. I love you so much, I’m begging you not to go, PLEASE!” Bakugou knew this was so belittling of him, but he couldn’t care less about his ego. He couldn’t afford to lose you, the girl he courted for so long and spent years with.

“Bakugou-“

“Katsuki!” He corrected. “It’s Katsuki to you!”

“....I have to go,” you said and gathered your things as you stood up. Bakugou shook his head and repeatedly said “no” as he ran after you and held you by your waist from behind to keep you from going.

“Let me go, please Bakugou.”

“Please! Please Y/N look at me!” You bit your lip to hold in your sobs as you turned to face him. It was the least you could do after he dropped his guard and held no dignity for himself in the moment.

“I’ll let you walk out that door right now, and I’ll leave you alone for the time being ONLY if you promise me you’ll come back to me. Please! If you need a break, I can give that to you but please don’t leave me permanently!” He offered. “You don’t even have to go! I’ll go, and I’ll find my own apartment to stay in until you’re ready for me again but please PLEASE stay in my life......I need you,”

His tears fell as his eyes were blood red and he held back his choked up sobs. You sighed as you went in to hug him one last time. He took it as a sign of agreement and settled the slightest bit as his arms quickly wrapped around you. But this was going to be your last hug for awhile.

“I’m sorry Suki. I love you so much...but I can’t stay here anymore,” you said as you looked up to him and placed a hand on his cheek. “Maybe some time in the future if things change and become different, I’ll come back to you, but right now, I need to get away.”

“No Y/N, please-“

“We’ll be okay. This is what we both need. We have to get away from each other.” He cried even more at your words and you followed his actions. “These past 3 years with you have been amazing, Katsuki. And I feel so blessed to have known you for as long as I have, but I just need a break. Please give me that.”

Bakugou looked into your eyes as he came to a decision. One that would break him.

“I can’t.” He said and backed away from you shaking his head, “I can’t allow myself to willing let you leave me. I love you so much and I need you in my life Y/N. I’m always going to beg you to just please stay...but I can’t stand to see you like this.”

Bakugou showed a sad smile before he spoke.

“So I won’t ‘willing’ let you go....but I’m gonna turn around. I’ll turn around and hopefully a certain amazing, beautiful, powerful goddess won’t try to get away. But if that goddess ever decides she wants to come back, I’ll be waiting for her with open arms.” Bakugou said and then turned, showing you his backside. You gave a sad smile as you realized this was him giving you the chance and break you needed.

You quickly ran up to him and wrapped your arms around him, giving him a hug from behind. You pecked his cheek and noticed his eyes were closed as tears fell.

“Bye Suki,” you whispered and walked out the door, leaving Katsuki alone with his back still turned and tears still falling like a flowing river.

“Bye Princess.”

[bestruction]

Aot boys as a type of ex

Warning: Slightly NSFW on Eren’s part, angst (maybe? idk lol). 

Characters: Eren, Levi, Armin, Jean and Reiner. 

A/N: I was listening to Hurt so good by Astrid S and this popped in my head god knows why.

Summary: One person can assume many titles in the lives of others. So what title would your boyfriend take on when you two broke up?

Masterlist

Eren - The ex, but never the ex in fact.

Eren is an intense guy (as I said before). With him are no halves or pieces. He would want you completely because he would also give himself to you completely, which would end up being a double-edged sword. On the bright side: He is there. It's literally impossible for you to feel alone when he is around. He would always make you notice him, make you feel him in every part of your mind and body. If you needed him, he would be by your side in a heartbeat and ready to do anything to help. He always made you have sure that he loves you. On the bad side: This intensity would not disappear or diminish when you argue. Big and long arguments for a not-so-important reason or not important at all are common for you two. He is also impulsive. So you could expect to be hurt after that. All of these discussions would undermine your relationship. It got to the point where you felt like stepping on eggs next to him, waiting for the next tears.

Sometimes he would apologize when he realized he was wrong but when none of you changed your mind thanks to pride or anger,  you would end up trapped in each other's arms in some random room of the house without clothes and sweaty. Too breathless to continue to exchange barbs. All frustration is discounted in your body's movements and his. That would become a cycle of discussions and make-up sex. You always push each other away and met again. The last time you said you never wanted to see Eren again, it would be just before the next time you were on his bed or he on yours. You knew it wasn't healthy for either of you, that you had to stop at some point, but how?

Levi - The ex who leaves you before the relationship ends.

Getting close to Levi would be a difficult task since the beginning of the relationship. Thanks to all the traumas that he suffered throughout his life. He lost his mother very early, did not have a healthy childhood, was abandoned by the person he believed to be his father, and lost countless friends. Because of so many losses since a young age, he unconsciously relates the pain of losing someone with the act of building bonds. He would be afraid to connect with others, including you. In fact, especially you. You who more than anyone accepts and try to understand the man behind all his strength. You who makes his heart speed just by smiling. You, that just the idea of losing scares him more than anything. So the more he gets attached to you, the more distant he will become. It's like a way of protecting himself. It would be easier for him to say that he loved you if he didn't love you so much.

It would start with something simple, like not having time to see you, which would be understandable in the beginning due to his position. But with time, you would notice that he would not insist on leaving the room or coming to you, and when he did come to you, it would be as if there was a great wall between the two of you. He would always be distant even when present. So you would end up wondering if he really felt the same. And overtime feeling lonely. When you broke up, he watched you turn away and tell himself that things would be better this way. You would find someone better, someone who would be able to answer your affection as you deserve, someone who really deserves you ... But why couldn't that someone be him?

Armin - The ex who remains your friend.

Armin has always been a sweet boy. He always respected your limits, and before being your boyfriend, he would also be your best friend. You would talk about everything. Dialogue would be one of the pillars of a relationship with him. He would make you feel safe, but no matter how many times you two talked, his insecurity would keep him from feeling the same way. He was always comparing himself to others, and as much as he tried not to project it on you, it would end up happening. He would end up trapped in a web of thoughts like: "If I were as agile as Jean, I could protect you better" "If I were brave like Eren, you would be more proud to be by my side".

As I said, you would be friends before lovers,  and that's why you would talk about it and come to the conclusion that the best thing for both of you would be the break-up. Armin knew he needed to take care of his own insecurities first. Before trying to take care of a relationship. He didn't want to let these things interfere with the affection for each other. So it was a mutual decision. Even after that, you would still be close, helping each other to grow as a person until you two are ready to be together again.

Jean - The ex who doesn't understand why the break-up.

Jean would be a perfect boyfriend. He would treat you well, he would communicate when he doesn't like something, and he would always try to make some simple gesture for you. The problem is that: He would believe so faithfully in "I'm a good boyfriend" that when you complain about something, he disregards it. Do you want to talk about an unresolved argument between the two of you? No, thank you. In his mind, it would already be resolved. So why go back to the subject? Why are you being so dramatic? He's always so nice to you.

So when you announce the end, tired of being the least heard. He'll look at you and ask you why, but even after listening carefully to each of your words, he still wouldn't understand why you chose to end it all. If nothing he has done so far has been enough for you, what else would it be? What did you want from him?

Reiner - The ex you never forget.

After years of relationship with Reiner, you would have learned a lot about the man behind that strong image and him about who you were when no one was looking. Of course, you would have arguments and disagreements like every couple, but nothing too serious. Nothing that would make you not want to look at him afterward. When your relationship started to cool down, there would be no culprits. It would just be an unexplained eventuality. It would not be as if all the affection you had for each other disappeared overnight. In fact, such your affection did not disappear even if the love was no longer the same. You would wonder why and so would he, but as I said before: There would be no culprits. No cheating. No jealousy. No hurts to count. The time you spent together would have been good for both of you, and unfortunately, it was over.

You always remember him with a smile on your face, and it would take time to relate again. After all, he would have left a high standard to be reached.

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

oooh may i request eren with a female s/o who doesn't put up with his bullshit? Like when he gets jealous n stuff

So I turned this into a break up fic because why not!? I live to hurt my own self while writing. I was listening to Noir By Sunmi while writing this hence the title.

Pairing: Eren/ Reader

Tags: angst, breaking up, seriously angst, modern au

Warnings: mentions of jealousy, angst, seriously. Just angst.

Noir

There is a despicable attire masking the way you're looking at Eren. The feeling that's boiling in the depths of your chest as you're sitting across from him on your kitchen table is indescribable. It's mixture of anger and determination, merged with heavy specs of remorse, whether it is for yourself or him, you haven't decided yet.

Your reflection in the glass of the kitchen table is mocking you. In it you can see a few of the cupboards behind you, you can see your inox fridge that's decorated in numerous small polaroids and you can see your hair, being messy and tousled, just like it always is when you're staying indoors. But you- no, your face. Your face looks deformed and blank, lost in the aggravating aspects of an angered expression.

Setting your eyes to any where but Eren isnt a simple task. Rather, you find no interest in looking at the borders between the marble tiles of the floor. They were plain and annoying to look at, but if you could you'd pretend they could calm you down. Keeping your huff in though, you alternate your gaze onto the top of the counter, onto the tap of the sink. You squint, pretending to take a good notice of the forms that light reflects into the object.

"I just don't want other guys being too touchy with you." Eren groans.

"Aren't we over this?" You roll your eyes.

"Yes, just pointing out that you wouldn't like that either."

There he goes again and you can't help but immediately snap your orbs to his direction. You have lost count of how many times he has mentioned it in only the span of five hours. He mentioned in while taking a shower, he mentioned it while working out, be mentioned it while cooking yet you've chosen to ignore him. Yet you know that ignorance doesn't benefit anyone, ever.

And you shouldn't act as if you're surprised, especially since you haven't addressed this. This is Eren. This has always been Eren. Expressing your concerns to Eren about how you feel he should trust you more has never worked, why should it work now?

"Eren, I can trust you that you won't let anyone do that!? Don't you trust me?"

"Yes, but."

"But?"

"I don't trust what others want to do to you. And what if you give in? Did you just wake up one day and decided to just devote ourself to me specifially?"

Eren is bitterly jealous. There's this spite that's hiding the aqua lines of his eyes, this sour mood that he always carries around when he gets in it. This stops him from being able to eat even slightly to normal; his hands are nervous and sweaty, his fork is abandoned to the side of his plate, his thumbs tapping onto the flat sides of his plate as if he's waiting for a response. There's not even the hint of a crump going down his throat, more so there's not a single bite taken off of his sandwich.

"Eren no one was touchy with me. Jean, Reiner, Armin, Marco... these are literally our friends since school!" You speak, munching onto your own food.

"I know."

"Then? Want to talk about it?"

You hate the way you make it sound like it's okay to casually be tender to him when he's judging you but you've been munching onto that bite of your cold noodles for a long time now. Your throat is refusing to take down bites anymore in result of you having stuffed your mouth to the full. It's an effort to shush yourself, to silence that voice that begs to come out and speak words you might regret.

"It's just." Eren pauses.

And you wait for his words to come out. By tapping your own hand onto the the glass of the table, you fixate your gaze onto Eren's uncomfortable form. You watch as his face gets buried to the palms of his hands, you watch as he refuses to face you while he clicks his tongue. His foot is rapidly tapping onto the floor, his hair is being pulled back by his fingers. The loud exhales he takes are indicators to the heavy weight that's sitting on his chest.

"It's so hard for me because I imagine you being with others, I don't want anyone to get their hands on something that's mine. And it's driving me crazy (y/n)."

Out of spite you push your eyes to the side. Facing Eren isn't something you feel like you're free to do at the moment. It's horrendous that you have to answer to that. Your heart is alternating between hammering inside your chest and dropping to your stomach. Your mind is confused as to what you should begin to think, or say. This is Eren, you keep repeating to your self, your spongy brain though is refusing to believe it.

It makes you wonder; Is this a time to be kind or is the last straw?

"Eren this is destroying you isn't it?"

Eren nods and then hides inside the neck of his hoodie, he pulls his sleeves over his palms and brings his elbows to the top of the table, setting them down as he leaned his face into his now clenched fists. You take it upon you to swallow that amount of food that's in your mouth up until now and when you do it goes down your throat dryly, painfully even. Your eyes are somewhat stinging, tiny little droplets are already starting to form in their corners.

"I don't want to feel like this anymore."

"It's destroying me too. Your jealousy."

Your chest rises and falls, your eye brows furrowing paid fully over your eyes as you look down. You can feel the gaze that's fixated on you; Eren is burning holes through your form with his piercing gaze, even if you can't see it it's a fact that you can't help but ignore. You heart the clenching of your teeth as your jaw locks onto place, trying to salvage every aspect of what can be saved between you and Eren.

"Then what did you suggest we do?" Eren quarries with a soft voice, his arm reaching out to wiggle underneath the grip you have of your face and hair.

"I-"

Maybe you can try. Couples try and fight for each other. And then things are supposed to get better. When you're down he's supposed to help you reach the top and you're supposed to do that too. It just doesn't feel like that with Eren anymore. You feel like Eren is holding you back, you feel like he's digging and delving into the past in such way that present doesn't matter to him anymore. You hate to think that it's not healthy to stay with each other anymore. If you weren't so exhausted by this being your new reality, you would be willing to try.

Your hands move reluctantly from their grip on your head, your thumbs shivering as you moved then down and along Eren's cubits. You trace imaginary lines over his slightly olive skin. Your fingers, shaking as much as your thumb work into taking his hands on yours, as you're pressing your palms onto his knuckles slightly.

"Maybe we should take a break from each other."

Your lips feel lighter than air as you mouth the words, still you're more concerned about how Eren is taking the sentence up. It's not easy to digest; you moved your eyes onto his form and suddenly they're stuck there, that pained expression is suppressing your lips in a puckered state, harsh lines spreading all over the volume of your lips.

"I didn't say this for you to tell me that."

Eren throws his hands in a orbit that's years of light away from yours. He's not touching you anymore, and you lose every ounce of affection in your body. The stinging tears that had threatened to fall are starting to vanish, hiding inside the sponge tissue of the corners of your eyes. A shiver runs through you as you watch Eren's nervous foot stop it's rhythm.

"I know."

"I'm sorry. I've talked about this with you so many times. And I'm just not feeling like I can do this anymore. I wish I could fight about us even more, but I can't be the only one fighting. I feel horrible for saying this but Eren, saying this sentence felt liberating for me. I feel free."

"There's no need to explain yourself. It's fine. Fine. I made you feel this way and yeah." Eren bit his lip as he spoke.

"I didn't think we'd end like this."

"Me neither." He snarls.

"I'm sorry"

"Don't be." His nose scrunches as he sniffles.

His eyes trace the uneaten sandwich in his plate, then they followed a forbidden path to you. But before he meets your eyes, he snaps his gaze back to what he was originally eyeing to distract himself. He wants to lash out, he wants to shout, but for what he doesn't know. It is rather odd to just sprout nonsense to someone who doesn't want to be standing across from him just because his devotions belonged to them up until second day ago.

Thus he bites on the inside of his cheek, pointy teeth digging into the soft flesh with fury, opening holes that he knows will be a pain in the ass before they heal again.

Without him, you'll be free. The phrase is a loop that's repeating into his head like a snap to reality.

Eren watchea as you bite your top lip and push your chair backwards, prompting your self up and away from the table, with your lips pushed into a thin line. He can see that it feels like a walk of shame, from your point in the kitchen to the sink, the way that your feet sound when clashing with the tiles of the floor indicate your need to not disturb him further. As if you're pitying him.

Eren grows to hate the way your pity presents it self. As if he is sick. But you are right.

"I'll go to sleep to Sasha's tonight and I'll come get my stuff tomorrow." You announced, without ever turning to look at him.

If he can work on himself he can try to get you back, he thinks and sighs. Nontheless he refuses to reply; he hasn't been given a right to reply to such statement. He can only let you go, and try not to be swallowed by the suffocating thought of you moving on without him.

At least now you can be free of that.

Taglist: @sasageyowrites @levisbrat25 @puredivinity @ackermans-freedom-inc @callmepromise @nobody-knows-anymore @berrijam @lzrers

[hawkinsindiana]

were you ever going to tell me?

ALMOST PARADISE: PART THREE - CHAPTER THREE OF TEN (?)

pairing: steve harrington x henderson!reader

word count: 3.5k

a/n: god damn.... it’s been a while. happy fuckin’ new year! hope you enjoy one of the most angst ridden chapters ruby and i have ever written. also pretty sure there’s going to be ten chapters! obvi i will inform you if that changes! hope you all have been staying safe and healthy! mwah!

masterlist

You and Steve haven’t spoken since Friday night when it slipped from your lips how you’ve felt - how you’ve felt about him for a year.

There’s not a doubt in your mind that it’s over. You should’ve known better than to keep something like that from him, that’s overwhelming information for anyone to receive. Even though the words “we’re done” haven’t been said, you’re positive that they don’t need to be.

And Steve - god, he hasn’t known what to think about it all. Unconsciously, he’s spent the last two days reliving everything, and of course you had feelings for him. You threw away so much for him and he rarely returned the favor. He almost hates how devoted you were - no, he doesn’t mean that.

He can’t mean that.

Steve’s wanted to reach out every moment that you two have been apart. He doesn’t blame you for the fact that you haven’t, he can’t imagine what’s going on inside your head; he assumes you’re pissed beyond belief.

The school day’s been tough. Knowing that Steve’s here and inside these walls, it makes you flare up with embarrassment and shame. You can’t wait to get out of here.

Jonathan’s voice startles you a bit when he approaches your locker, just passing by on his way out to say goodbye. Concern blooms from within him at the way you hold yourself, how your eyes can’t seem to focus on anything in particular as you turn the dial.

He clears his throat as he tries to come with something to discuss, “So, uh - do anything else fun over the weekend? Will told me you watched something spooky. Hopefully Dustin wasn’t too annoying this time.”

Jonathan laughs, crossing his arms over his chest, “Like remember that time we took them to see Cujo? I felt so bad for the other people in the theater.”

“I, um-“ You stutter over your words as you swing the door open, mind flashing back to events on Friday, “No, I didn’t do anything else this weekend. It was pretty shitty, actually.”

“Bummer,” Jonathan leans against the column as you unzip your backpack and begin to unload your belongings. His brow furrows further once he notices something else is off, until he finally realizes what. 

“Steve’s runnin’ late today,” Jonathan checks his watch, “You two are typically joined at the hip right about now.” 

And by the way your jaw clenches and your actions freeze slightly, Jonathan can tell he unwillingly struck a nerve.

Your throat starts to close up as you think about him again, feeling the familiar burning sensation behind your eyes, “I haven’t, uh, I haven’t seen him. I don’t know where he is.”

Jonathan watches you intently. He hasn’t seen you like this in a while - not since the day after Halloween. The puzzle starts to put itself together.

He leans in a touch closer; his whispers are covered by the rustling sound of you putting on your windbreaker, “Did something happen? Are you two… you know, good?”

You’re an inch away from whisking Jonathan somewhere else to tell him everything. Over the past few months - but especially over the last couple days - you’ve been tempted to let the secret spill. Keeping all your feelings in, both the good and the bad, doesn’t feel like such a good idea anymore. 

You figured that Nancy would be the person you’d tell. While it’d probably be awkward at first, she is the one who told you to go for it, regardless of the past. 

But Jonathan’s right here. And someone else has to know. 

“You can’t tell anyone else,” You say, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. Your tone matches his, quiet and hushed underneath the obnoxiously loud commotion of the hallway. 

Jonathan’s face twists; both curiosity and concern is laced throughout his expression, “Uh, yeah. Of course.”

The experiences you’ve shared will bond you forever. You’d trust Jonathan with your life - you figure he can handle this piece of information too. 

A deep sigh passes from your lips. You don’t know why you’re so scared to admit this.

“Steve and I, we - we’re, uh…” Your hand moves absently in the air as you try to find the words. But when you trail off in search of them, your silence says enough. Jonathan’s brow raises in realization - it all makes so much sense. 

And Jonathan goes to answer, mouth opening but he doesn’t get to respond. Instead, his attention is brought to your side. He kicks your shoe to grab your gaze, which moves quickly between Jonathan’s eyes, and where they landed. 

You avert your focus from Steve as soon as you see that it’s him. The quick glance is enough to transport you to that night, and the emotions you felt watching him leave. 

“Hey,” Steve speaks softly as he comes up beside you, sending a nod and light wave to Jonathan before he leans in a touch closer, “Can we talk?”

Jonathan takes that as his cue to leave - he wishes you both a good-bye. As your friend disappears into the crowd, you bite down onto the inside of your lip. 

“Yeah,” Your voice trembles, afraid because this is it. You can’t bring your gaze to meet Steve’s again, “Yeah sure.”

“Let’s uh-” Steve mutters, clearing his throat as you pull the collar of your coat away from your neck. His eyes fly around the hallway, catching sight of the other students that mill around in the space. Not here. 

Steve exhales before he speaks, “What do you say we go for a drive?”

—

Every few seconds, Steve’s eyes drift between the empty road and you; your leg bounces wildly in the silence. He’s trying to figure out how to compile his thoughts - he doesn’t even know where to begin.

The longer you both sit without speaking, the more anxious you become. You wish you had an inkling of what he plans to say. You wish you could prepare. 

Steve shifts in his seat, voice faltering a bit, “Um, are you... hungry? Wanna grab something?”

God, you hate how considerate he can be. 

You lean your head against the hand you propped on the armrest. You haven’t taken your eyes away from the landscape beyond the window since buckling in. It takes every fabric of your being to try and forget that Steve’s beside you; it’s the only way you can attempt to calm yourself down. 

It doesn’t help that every time you’re in Steve’s car, you’re surrounded by memories. 

Like when you spent ten minutes explaining the chemistry assignment, only for him to grab your notes and toss them into the front seat. 

You protested, about ready to smack him when his fingers danced over your jaw, pulling you closer. He kissed you for a moment before muttering against your lips, “I think I’d rather study our chemistry instead.”

You couldn’t take him seriously after that comment; you laughed until your stomach hurt. Steve couldn’t even be offended, the sound of your giggles only brought a smile to his face. 

“I don’t what you think is so funny,” He quipped, smirking as he looked back at you, “That was one of my best ones!”

You scoffed, “You say a lot of cheesy shit, Harrington. But that? That was the worst one out of them all.” 

Steve didn’t get a chance to reply, because you took his face in between your palms and kissed him. Your love for him is more powerful than all the horrible jokes and puns he could come up with. In fact, they only made you love him more. 

How different that moment was in comparison to the one you’re in now. You figure that it’ll take everything you have to try and get over him. 

“I’m not hungry,” You say curtly, with a tone much harsher than you intended. You immediately regret it. 

“I’m sorry, I just…” The sentence falls short, you’re not sure where it was going. You felt the need to apologize for something. This is your fault, after all.

Steve hears you curse under your breath as you ponder how to continue. Another moment passes.

You sigh before leaning back against the seat, the anger at yourself only grows with each passing second, “God, I fucked up-”

“You’re not the one who fucked up,” Steve interrupts suddenly. He runs his fingers through his hair aggressively, irritated by his own actions from the other night. He never should have left.

“Sometimes I just…” Steve pauses as he stops the car at a red light, “I can’t believe how selfless you are. And I just don’t know how to handle it most of the time.”

“I can’t imagine putting my own feelings aside for a whole year, just for another person’s happiness. I’m not sure if that’s selfish or not.”

Steve takes a deep breath, relishing in the admittance of his guilt. He figures that’s something he should do more often - he carries so much of it with him.

Barb. Nancy. The endless list of others who were touched by his lack of empathy. 

And now you. It might be too late to make it up to them, but he can certainly try to make it up to you. Hopefully, you can forgive him in time. 

“It was a second. A second, and then I turned and realized how it seemed, that I didn’t want you anymore but I do. God, I do.”

You start tearing up a bit because his words hit you harder than you were expecting, “You turned back?”

Steve looks to you briefly before he nods, “Right as you locked the door, yeah.”

He doesn’t give you time to reply; he continues speaking as the light turns green, “I’m just so lucky to have you. And I’m sorry. I never should have left that day.” 

In that moment, the relief floods your face. Once again, you expected the worst - you’ll have to learn to stop doing that. Especially with Steve. 

But Steve grows more concerned over what your expression implies. The anxiety you displayed wasn’t for no reason, he figures. 

“You weren’t worried about anything besides that, right? You didn’t think I was gonna… break up with you, were you?”

His voice is so weak with emotion because all you’ve shown him has been devotion and love and more affection than he could’ve dreamed of; this is how he pays it back? Your silence is answer enough. 

A tear finally rolls down your cheek, but you can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders at these revelations. The only sound is that of the rain that’s begun to hit the windshield. It’s strangely soothing after the previous conversation. 

Steve reaches over the center console to hold your hand in his; you laugh and sniffle a bit, wiping your eyes as he presses a kiss to your knuckles, “We’re not very good at this, are we?” 

Steve's looking a little downtrodden - as you’re sure you are too - but his eyes are shining and he’s grinning, so it can’t be that bad. 

“No,” He chuckles too, his thumb tracing over the back of your hand tenderly, “But we’ll learn.”

—

The following weeks are fairly uneventful in regards to your relationship. Since that day, you’ve been more transparent with each other. While you were afraid the truth would only cause pain, it’s actually brought you peace. 

It hasn’t gotten any easier to face your brother, unfortunately. Every time you mention that Steve’s picking you up, Dustin’s eyes grow wide. 

“Can I come?” He begs. You always sigh - you both know that the answer is yes. Neither you nor Steve can ever seem to say no to Dustin. Especially now that a few of the kids have begun to couple up, your brother is lonelier than ever. 

While Steve might love the kid, that doesn’t mean he’s thrilled to see Dustin by your side every time. The glares that Steve sends your brother when he isn’t looking puts you in stitches. 

Steve can handle your brother crashing your dates - he figured that might happen. He wasn’t prepared to attempt to avoid all of them.

You were sure that you would finally be able to see this movie together with Dustin at Will’s with the others for the weekend. You leaned into Steve’s side, with his arm over your shoulder, just subtle enough to go unnoticed in the darkness of the theater.

It’s some cheesy film - neither of you knows or even cares what the title is because you get to be that couple at the movies, when out of nowhere-

“Hey guys! You didn’t tell me you were coming, we’ve missed like a quarter of the movie!”

You and Steve scramble to part; Steve goes beet red, hissing under his breath, “I thought you said he wasn’t coming!”

“He wasn’t! I don’t know how he even found out!”

Dustin plops himself in the seat next to yours, popcorn spilling onto the ground, “What did I miss?”

Steve coughs and it brings Dustin’s attention to the blush on his face, “Were… were you guys gettin’ cozy?”

“No!” You both exclaim; several people shush you in the audience. 

Dustin’s not sure he believes you. He offers you his box of Milk Duds, “Want some?”

His offer only fuels your annoyance with him further, “No, I don’t want any! What the hell are you doing here? I thought you were at Will’s!” 

Dustin gestures next to him as he shrugs, dumping the box of chocolates into his tub of popcorn, “Yeah, but we got bored. Mike mentioned the idea, and Max wanted to see this anyways!”

Steve groans when he sees the pack of them settling into the seats next to your brother, each of them with snacks in each hand. Mike tilts his drink towards your boyfriend, his smirk growing with every second. Steve decides telling Mike your Friday night plans is no longer a good idea.

With all of that aside, there is one thing that has been bothering Steve. He decides to inquire about it one night.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Steve questions; his voice breaks the silence. In the darkness, his eyes are trained on the pale color of the ceiling, absently focused on nothing. He doesn’t understand why it’s been on his mind, because it’s not important anymore. You’re together now, that’s all that matters. Right?

But it’s been keeping him awake - the curiosity. He’s not used to that.

“Hm?” Exhausted, that’s all you can muster as a response. You’re tucked against his side - every time he breathes, you rise with the motion. You like the reminder that Steve’s really here, lying with you in the late night’s twilight.

“How you felt. About me.”

Oh.

He doesn’t need to elaborate further because you know how his mind works. It’s likely that he’s been obsessively picking apart your words, trying to find any glimmer of hope; they were devastating to him.

Your chest heaves before answering, almost afraid of giving him the reason. Softening your tone, you finally answer him, “No, no I wasn’t.” 

Steve has a thousand thoughts swirling through his head now; it doesn’t make any sense that you’d want to keep yourself from a chance at happiness. He has so many things he wants to tell you, wants to ask you - but he only comes up with one.

“Why?”

It’s quiet, quieter than anything spoken so far. It seems silly, but his question contains so much sadness because he doesn’t understand it. It’s only three letters, but each one makes your body flood with emotion. And even though it’s right there, in the forefront of your mind, you can’t bring yourself to tell him.

“Maybe, if you did...” Steve continues when you don’t, carefully trying to navigate the topic, “We could’ve been happy. Not-not that I’m sayin’ we aren’t now, of course.”

His nerves calm a bit when a light laugh bubbles from you, grinning a bit as you tighten your hold on him - he returns it quickly. 

It’s a short moment of joy, because Steve’s brow furrows as his mind keeps running, “But maybe it could’ve been sooner. We could’ve been together.”

Your cheeks flush at this idea he proposes; that maybe he would’ve wanted to be with you earlier if you had just said something. But you’re still not so sure.

“Steve,” You sigh as you pull away from him, sitting up so you can meet his gaze, “You don’t know that. Maybe it had to happen this way.”

He doesn’t like that. Steve wants to believe that out there somewhere, there’s a chance he could’ve been there for you sooner. That there’s a chance you two would’ve been able to avoid all the heartache, the uncertainty, and the anger that you were left with instead.

“Besides,” You shift to cross your legs, further tangling them in the sheets as you ponder, “Do you really think you would’ve left Nancy for me?” 

And then Steve props himself up to mirror you, watching how your eyes catch the glow from the streetlight just beyond your window. He’s not sure what his answer would have been, if he really thinks about it.

“You still could’ve said something. I mean, I don’t know what I would’ve done but, I wouldn’t have just…gotten rid of you.”

Steve adjusts to move closer, desperately trying to think of anything he could say to make the situation better. Although he’s not sure he’d ever be able to, not after what he did. Unknowingly, as you’ve pointed out countless times, it doesn’t make his heart ache any less.

“You loved her,” You mutter, voice soft; your gaze cast down towards your hands, “And I didn’t think you’d ever see me differently. If all I was going to be was your friend, then that was better than never having you at all. It wasn’t what I wanted, but it was something.”

It’s Steve’s turn not to say anything, because you’re not wrong. It’s true that he didn’t start developing feelings for you until after Nancy had left, and that you were only a friend in his eyes before then. And even though he knows that’s the truth, it still hurts to hear it come from you. It hurts to hear that you never believed you had an opportunity.

“I made the choice not to tell you, Steve,” You finally turn to face him and his soft brown eyes are patiently awaiting your final answer, “I didn’t want it to hurt you.”

“Hurt me?” He pauses after scoffing slightly, “What are you talking about?” 

“I didn’t want you to feel like you had to choose. And we know now that she didn’t love you, but I-” The sentence stops before you can end it, as if it was pulled right from your mouth, like every other time you’ve tried to.

But something’s different now. Your heart isn’t pounding, cheeks aren’t scarlet with embarrassment; part of you wonders if it’s because you think he already knows. 

And with another breath, another sigh, you finally finish it.

“But I do.”

You chuckle as you become overwhelmed with your own emotions. You can’t help the smile that begins to creep up over your lips, realizing you’re finally comfortable enough to tell him how you feel. 

“I’m so in love with you. And I’d never want to do anything to hurt you. Ever. I always thought that if I told you, it’d do more harm than good so… I chose not to do anything about it. You were happy and god... the last thing I have ever wanted to do was take that away from you. So I figured I would just let it tear me apart until I didn’t feel it anymore.”

You feel so much lighter - every card you’ve ever kept from him is now on the table. There’s nothing hidden anymore. 

“You don’t, um-“ You mutter, hands placed gingerly into your lap. Your head shakes - almost in disbelief - you can’t believe what you just admitted to him, “You don’t have to say anything.” 

Right away, Steve opens his mouth to respond, but you stop him before he can utter a single word. He’s not even sure what he was going to say, if he’s honest with himself. But you deserve to hear something after that admission, he thinks - it’s the very least he could do.  

You know how Nancy’s lie affected him; he’s not required to admit anything that he’s not ready to, “No, it’s fine, Steve. It’s okay, I’m okay.”

How very odd for Steve, to be the one receiving this confession, the admittance of your feelings, your love and knowing that you expect nothing in return. He’s used to being on the other side of it truthfully, pouring out his heart and being left on a line - Nancy's hesitation louder than any words.

Steve doesn’t want to - he knows for sure that you wouldn’t want him to - but he feels guilty. But this love is so different from Nancy’s and he has to learn it all again, until it’s comfortable against the thrum in his heart. You’ve had plenty of time to learn to love him and he? Well, he’s on his way.

— taglist: @stevebabey / @mrsukai / @hannarudick / @crazycookiecrumbles / @hellisateenageheather / @alewifex / @l0ve-0f-my-life / @naomiiiiiiiiiii04 / @daddystevee / @thecaptainsgingersnap / @let-the-imaginationflow / @asianravenpuff / @im-a-stranger-thing / @mikariell95 / @pilunb / @harringtherin / @royalestrellas / @ultrunning / @buggs177 / @poutfull / @yoheyyosup / @duchessdaisybat / @janieavalos / @sassisaluxury / @beththebubbly / @i-bitch-you-bitch / @captainstilinskis / @juliebean247 / @im-nada / @whatabeautifulsurrender / @rexorangecouny / @pass-me-jeez-it / @ahoy-scoops-troop / @halefirewarrior / @jointhehunt67 / @peanutem / @ketchuplukehemmo / @m-a-r-i-n-t-p / @fangirl485 / @emmegirl827 / @lookalivesunshine-x / @elite4cekalyma / @marjoherbo / @just-my-fandom / @idumpyourgrass / @alafolieee / @mochminnie / @phantomalchemist / @dustyblueboo / @alonewolfsblog / @ggclarissa / @hufflepuffing-all-day-long / @bippityboppitybabe / @readinthegarden12 / @bakugouishusbando / @stxtch72 / @random-girl-army / @wisdaemon / @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

if you want to be added to the taglist, just lemme know!

[ambria]

everytime // Sirius Black

Sweetener x Marauders

play ‘everytime’ by Ariana Grande <3

pairing: sirius black x reader

word count: 2.3k ✨

warnings: angst, fluff at the end, mentions of drinking, under-age drinking, partying, depression?, mentions of drugs and drug use, someone trying to take advantage on the drunk reader, crying? Let me know if I missed something.

This also might have a few time jumps

A/N: I wrote this in 1st person but I feel like I should make these in 3rd so that’s what I’ll start doing. But this is also my first time making a one-shot fic so cut me some slack if it’s trash. But I hope you enjoy!

I get tired of your no-shows

Taking in the warmth through my fingers I look at the door once more before glancing at the clock.

He’s late. Again

I take a deep breath to cool down my nerves and sigh. I sip the rest of my butterbeer before looking at the entrance once more and packing my stuff and walking out. I look around once more before giving up and walking back to the castle.

You get tired of my control

As I’m walking back I start to get more irritated by the step. This isn’t the first time he’s done this. Always too busy to hang out because of him with his friends or too busy because of pranks. The missed dates and the interrupted times. All for his friends. I’m clearly not a priority in his life and that has to change or I’m not going to be in it.

Walking through the castle I collect my thoughts on how I’m gonna approach this situation. But since I’m so pissed off, I’m gonna take an angry approach.

I walk up to the gryffindor common room and say the password before walking in.

As I stepped into the common room, lo and behold, the marauders spread on the couches talking loudly and laughing. Seeing that made my blood boil. As I walk over I catch the attention of the brunet,

“Y/N!!!!! Hey!!!” The Potter boy called out. I gave a weak smile. Which caught the attention of my boyfriend.

“Hey, babe.” He smiled at me. I internally roll my eyes and keep an emotionless face on. At this point all the attention from the boys is on me.

“Hey. Can we talk?” In the corner of my eye I can see Remus and James glance at each other and look worriedly at Sirius. Yeah. They know better.

“Uhh. Sure. About what?” This time I rolled my eyes. I ignore his question and grab his hand before dragging him up to his dorm.

We enter and I close the door before leaning on it. He goes and sits on the foot on his bed.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.” Bouncing his knee, I can tell he’s getting impatient and just wants this to hurry up and be done with this. I get even more annoyed at this.

“What do you want to talk about? We were in the middle of planning.”- I mocked him- “This is exactly what I’m talking about! You’re always busy! Doing this and doing that!” I start to raise my voice. My face starts to heat up due to my anger. I try to calm down but it doesn’t seem to be working.

He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off,

“Where were you today?! I was waiting for you! For our date that YOU literally planned!” His eyes widened with realization and looked at me with a guilty face. But I’m too pissed off to care.

My eyes start to water with tears of frustration but I’m nowhere near done,

“Everytime I want to hang out you’re always busy with your friends and pranks! You never have time for me anymore!” At this point tears are streaming down my face and Sirius doesn’t look that far behind.

“This is the third date you missed! Because you forgot! I’m done with being second best. Im probably not even that!” He has his head down, hands on his knees.

“I—I-I” he stutters out what I think is going to be some wack apology. But I’m done. I can’t do it anymore.

“No. I’m done.” As soon as I said those words his head shot up fast and looked at me with wide eyes.

“No-” he goes to protest but I cut him off again.

“No I can’t do this. Not anymore. This has gone on for too long. You need to fix your priorities. I hope you don’t treat another girl like this. I’m breaking up with you, Sirius.” I don’t wait for a reply and I simply walk out of the door and walk back down to the common room, wiping my tears.

They keep telling me to let go

As I make it to the common room I notice the boys are still there. They see me and go to talk but a loud sound cuts them off. Items getting thrown around, is what I guessed it to be.

We all freeze and guilt washes over me. It’s Sirius.

But I don’t really let go when I say so

I turn my head to the staircase with a sad expression before brushing it off.

I had to. I deserve better. I thought to myself.

I look over to the boys to see that they have worried but knowing expressions on their faces. I gave them weak smiles and walked away to my dorm.

I keep giving people blank stares

Drama travels fast around here at Hogwarts. So it wasn’t long until word got out that infamous Sirius Black was single again and back on the market.

My friends are starting to get worried about me because of my reaction to the breakup, or lack thereof. I know how to keep my emotions buried. I know it’s an unhealthy coping mechanism but I refuse to be sad over a boy who treated me like shit.

I’m so different when your not there

What they don’t know is that I cry myself to sleep. Everyday. I close my curtains around my bed and put a silencing spell around it and sob. For hours. It’s pretty sad.

But I keep my neutral face on for everyone else. From what I know Sirius isn’t doing much better. He’s just more open about his broken heart. Lily tells me he mopes around and doesn’t speak much anymore. Let alone prank anyone.

Everytime she tells me about him being sad it makes me want to run out the room and find him to cuddle with him and kiss him and apologize profusely for the break up.

But I remind myself that it’s not my fault and that I deserve better.

It’s like something out of Shakespeare

Because I’m really not here when you’re not there

I tried to fight our energy

It's been three months since the break up and I have developed some pretty bad habits.

I’ve secretly been drinking to numb the pain. I know it’s not healthy but I can’t seem to stop.

Once all my roommates are sleeping I drink by myself on my bed. It helped in the beginning but now I can’t stop.

I’ve perfected my fake smile so no one could tell the difference. Well one person did, but I was unaware.

I’m in a deep depression and I have no one to talk to. None of my friends know, I can’t tell them. They won’t understand.

Meanwhile,

“Pads, you can’t keep moping around. She’s moved on, you should too.”

“No, I can’t. I still love her.” Sirius said but due to him being face first on his pillow it came out muffled.

“Well then you’re going to have to work your way to get her back. Show her you’ve changed.” The werewolf suggested to his friend.

“Really?” He picks his head up to face his friends, red and puffy eyes with a hopeful expression.

They nod.

But everytime I think I’m free

As the weeks pass I start to receive notes and letters with little flowers attached to them. I know they are from Sirius but I can’t seem to open them and read. It’s too hard and I’m not ready yet.

You get high and call on the regular

Once I reach my empty dorm I run to my trunk and collect all the saved letters. I place them on my bed and chuck my shoes off before climbing on my bed while getting comfortable.

I sort the letter from how I received them. I slowly open the first one,

Dear y/n,

Looking at us now I regret a lot of things.

I don’t blame you for not seeing us together in the future.

I was horrible, but for you I am willing to change. No. I will change.

You deserve so much better and if you let me I could be that person.

But I have to fix myself in order for that to happen.

If you're willing I would love to have another chance.

forever yours,

Sirius

As I finish reading my eyes are cloudy with tears. I continue to read all of the letters.

And by the end of it I’m sobbing.

I get weak and fall like a teenager

I knew it was a bad idea to read those letters. Because after that I am ready to run back into his arms and express my love. But I can’t until I know that he’s changed.

I deserve better. I keep telling myself that.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

Everytime I see him now I try to avoid him. Everytime he’s in a room, I leave. Everytime class is over I run out before he gets the chance to talk to me.

Because I know if I take one look into his beautiful stormy gray eyes I will fall all over again. And that can’t happen.

I deserve better.

I get drunk, pretend that I’m over it

It’s Friday night and today is the big Gryffindor party. Being stressed with liquor and drugs is not a good combo but I haven’t been safe these past couple of months.

I’m in my dorm room getting ready. I decide on a natural glam look with a bold red lip and a black satin body con dress with some black heels.

As I’m walking down the stairs, I can hear the music blasting and the red led lights are turned on. I part from my friends and immediately head to the liquor table. As I’m walking I fail to notice the pair of eyes following my every move.

I take a plastic red cup and I fill it up with the hardest liquor I could find on the table. After downing the cup I refill it and make my way over to my friends who are currently in the corner smoking what the muggles call ‘weed’. It’s strong but it helps me relax. Who knew muggle were so helpful.

Self-destruct, show up like an idiot

About an hour into the party everyone was either high, drunk or both. Which I was. Again me with my unhealthy coping mechanisms.

I ended up dancing in the middle of the room with a huge group of people. I feel eyes on me but I’m too drunk to care at the moment.

As I’m dancing I feel someone come up behind me and grab my hips. I turn around to see a random 7th year boy. He begins to trail his hands on my body.

He leans down to whisper in my ear,

“How about we go to my down, sweetheart?” His hot breath makes a shiver run down my spine, and not in a good way.

I began to shake my head while saying no but he clearly didn’t get the message because he gripped my wrists and tried to pull me with him. But because I was too drunk I couldn’t defend myself properly.

As I continue to struggle I see a person step in front of me, glaring at the boy,

“I suggest you let her go. Now.” I heard a familiar voice, I couldn’t tell who from my drunken state. Once the person turned around a smile involuntarily appeared on my face,

“Siri! Hi!” I giggled as he guided me away from everyone.

“Hi. Let’s get you somewhere safe.” He picks me up bridal style and starts to carry me up to the boys dorms and to his room.

I yawned and cuddled up into his chest,

“I’m still mad at you.” I mumbled. He set me down on his bed and goes to his trunk to take out some clothes,

“I know.” He said, sadly. As he’s helping me I go on a mini rant,

“You know you treated me horrible. I just wanted my boyfriend but you never made time for me. You missed dates, you cancelled on me a lot. And whenever we had time together alone you had to leave early. I just wanted you to give me your love and attention. But I was never a priority. I miss you so much, Siri.” After he tucks me into his bed he kisses my forehead and responds,

“I miss you too, baby.” He goes to walk away but I grab his hand. Which makes him turn around and give me a questioning look,

“Please stay.” I pout. He smiles and climbs into the bed with me. I turn to look at him,

“Cuddles?” I ask him with puppy eyes.

“Cuddles.” I snuggle up next to him with my head on his chest and my legs bunched up with his. He puts his chin on top of my head and begins to play with my hair.

“You know, I still love you. And I’m willing to give you a second chance, Siri.” I can’t see him but I can tell he has a huge grin on his face.

“I love you too, pup. Go to sleep. We’ll talk in the morning.” I start to drift off but before I do fully I feel him kiss my forehead again and whisper ‘I love you’ one last time before the darkness engulfed me.

Why, oh why does God keep bringing me back to you?

****

Taglist: @blackpinkdolan

If you want to be added to my taglist for this series message me or comment under the post.

[waywardrose13]

Crimson Leaves- Chapter Seven: Calm Before the Storm

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Crimson Leaves- Zombie Apocalypse AU series

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: The dead have risen. Amid a global pandemic that causes the dead to prowl the Earth, a leader of a small camp in North Carolina fights for survival. Y/N Y/L/N was certain of three things: One, only a bite would turn you. Two, the brain must be destroyed in order to completely kill the thing. Three, trust no one. When a stranger is brought to her camp half alive, Y/N must make the decision to throw him to the walkers, or let the mystery man heal within the gates. As Dean Winchester recovers from a zombie attack, he worms his way into the camp, and eventually into Y/N’s heart. Love is a dangerous game, especially when it’s played with the dead.

Chapter Warnings: Angst, language, some fluff, *Graphic depictions of gore and murder*, implied cannibalism, death

Bingo squares: None for this chapter​

A/N- This chapter was commissioned! Thank you to the beautiful individual who motivated me to write this chapter. This one is for you:)

<<Chapter Six

“Seriously?”

Y/n’s heart nearly leaped from her chest. She cursed under her breath and turned slowly to face him. Smiling sheepishly, she tried to ignore the flutters of butterflies in her chest at the sight of Dean: arms crossed, eyes narrowed, lips pursed. Why was an angry Dean turning her on? And why was she letting it?

“Hey, Dean,” she said. She sent him her most innocent smile, which was not reciprocated in the slightest. “Why are you up so early?”

“Because I’m a light sleeper and I heard you leave,” he replied. “Haven’t you learned from last time? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I have a list,” she said, shrugging. “People need these items and the runners can’t get them.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’re personal items that people trust me with,” she said. “I have to go.”

“You’re unbelievable.”

“I’m amazing.”

“You’re a pain in the ass.”

“I’m endearing.”

Dean sighed and rubbed his temples. “Okay, well I’m coming with you.”

“Dean-”

“Not up for discussion. I don’t want to imagine what would have happened if you were alone last time. I’m coming with you.” Dean gripped her chin and planted a quick kiss on her lips before stepping around her to open the gate. “Come on, you.”

Y/n’s lip quirked into a small smile. She slipped through the gate, Dean right behind her. “Ladies first” he had said the first time they left on a run together. She hadn’t taken it, of course. He had sauntered through the gates when she scowled at him. But now, she brushed a hand over his bicep as she passed, giving him a sly grin that he sent right back as she walked through the gates. He latched it back up and followed Y/n down the marked path before he reached out silently to intertwine his fingers with hers. She sent him a shy smile and squeezed his hand.

The sun hadn’t risen quite yet. The hints of a rosy pink bled through the trees from atop the mountain. The sunrise over the mountain-top was gorgeous. A perk of being on the east coast.

The two settled into a comfortable silence. The birds began to wake, their melodious songs echoing off the trees, creating a calming morning atmosphere. It wasn’t very humid, and the temperature wasn’t too high, so the air was comfortable, a soft wind blowing atop the mountain. With mornings like these, it’s hard to think of the death and destruction happening on Earth right now. These moments of tranquility were cherished by Y/n. She knew it couldn’t last, but she liked to pretend. 

They arrived at the Jeep in no time. Dean offered to drive, and Y/n reluctantly let him. She knew the roads better, but she was still tired, so she conceded.

“We aren’t going into Brevard today,” she said. “When you get to the fork, take a left instead.”

“Copy that,” Dean said. 

They drove in silence for the most part, one of Dean’s hands still laced with one of Y/n’s. Y/n huffed a small laugh at the thought of the last time they were outside the walls of the camp on a run. How she had been so annoyed and pissy with him. How he had called her a grade-A bitch.

Now, their hands were laced and her skin was abuzz with the feel of him. That attraction and that feeling had been there, hidden beneath denial and anger and self hatred. But Dean had set that feeling free. He had nudged open the door to her heart and let those feelings loose.

And it scared the fuck out of her.

She knew she wasn’t easy to be around. She knew she wasn’t easy to love. She knew that before the apocalypse. She had always had a temper. She was always a bit odd. She had been through some shit in her life that molded her into someone who locked away her trust and lashed out when she was hurt. 

It’s not like she wanted to be this way. A build up of unresolved trauma, the dismissal of her own feelings, and not knowing how to express her emotions in a healthy way led to it. 

So, no. She wasn’t easy to be around. It’s why most people in her life left. Even her own family had a hard time dealing with her sometimes.

“You make us all miserable.” 

It was so long ago, she couldn’t remember if it was one of her siblings or parents, but those words had stuck with her for a long time. And it stung, even after all these years. She wished she could fix it. She had always wanted to be loved despite her flaws.

She knew Dean didn’t love her. She knew the capability of someone loving her was low. But he cared for her. And he shared her affections.

She just hoped she didn’t scare him off.

The general store was nestled in yet another small town at the bottom of the mountain. The runners didn’t know about it. They traveled mostly west or to Brevard. But Y/n had come to the small town on a few occasions. It was one of the last untouched towns. Long abandoned, it wasn’t on many maps, and the general store still had many valuables to spare.

“What are we looking for?” Dean asked as they stepped inside. He closed the door softly behind him and locked it. The store was dark and full of cobwebs, dust, and leaves, but the shelves were still intact and covered in items. They weren’t full, but they had enough.

Y/n read over her list for the tenth time. “Some enemas, condoms, and hemorrhoid cream.”

Dean stared at her. “Personal. Right.”

“Told you,” she said, setting off into the isles. “Not everyone trusts all the runners. As their leader, most people entrust the more personal items with me. I think they know if they asked the runners for stuff like this, stuff that doesn’t benefit the camp as a whole, the runners would ignore it.”

“You’re a good leader, Y/n.”

Her skin warmed at his pride. “Thank you.”

They searched the store for the items, finding them all as well as a few more packs of batteries, lighter fluid, and a half empty tank of gas in the back. They poured the gas into the Jeep’s tank, stuffed all of the items into Y/n’s backpack, and climbed back into the car.

***

“That went by much more smoothly than our last outing.”

Y/n whistled and nodded, slumping down onto her couch when they got back to her cabin. They had dropped the items off at the respectable tents, dumped the batteries off at the nerve center, passed the lighter fluid off to the kitchens, and returned to Y/n’s cabin before their daily duties.

“I would say so,” she said, reaching a hand up for Dean to grab. He grinned and took it, sinking down onto the couch beside her and lifting her up into his lap. She laid her head in the crook of his neck, his hands resting on her waist and knee. 

“What do you have planned today, Lord Commander?” Dean asked, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/n rolled her eyes. “I’m stuck at the nerve center today. I have some role change requests and Luke and I are drafting a plan for some cabin construction.”

“Really?” Dean asked. 

“Yep. We’re growing rapidly. We’re thinking about some bunk houses, that way people don’t always have to stay in tents. There’s a man who worked construction who’s currently over in security, but he said he’d direct the building efforts.”

“That would be a lot of work,” Dean said. He peered down at her. “Where would the materials come from?”

“It would be mostly wood. Maybe some clay to help keep the logs together. But if we build a sturdy enough structure and use some of the tarps over the roofs to keep the rain from pouring in, I think we could build decent log houses. They wouldn’t be perfect, but the tents are filling up and we’re running out.”

Dean nodded at her words and squeezed her hip. “Not a bad idea.”

“Of course it isn’t. I came up with it.”

Dean chuckled. “So modest.” 

She looked up at him, their eyes locking for a moment before Dean bent down to plant a chaste kiss to her lips. 

Y/n didn’t think she would ever get used to Dean kissing her. Every time he did, she felt as if she was swept up into a new dance amongst the stars, or as if she was soaring up into the sky. Every touch sent her skin aflame and every kiss left her breathless in the best way. He was her drug, and the more of him she got, the more of him she craved.

He lifted her and laid her back on the couch, his hands warm on her hips as he held her down, skimming them up her sides. She arched into his touch and kissed him feverishly, wrapping her legs around his waist to rub against him. Groaning, he broke away from her to duck into her neck, kissing the skin there.

“Sweetheart,” he rasped as she grinded against him.

“Yes?” She asked sweetly.

“Keep doing that, and I won’t be able to hold back,” he said. She knew that wasn’t true. If she told him to leave and never come back, he’d respect her wishes. But his words still sent heat slithering to her core.

“Who’s asking you to?” 

Dean growled and nipped her earlobe. “I don’t want your first time to be us rutting against each other on your couch like a couple teenagers.” He bucked his hips into hers, though, making her gasp. “When we fuck, we’re going to do it right.”

When.

“So sure of yourself, aren’t you?” She asked. 

Dean pulled back to look her straight in the eye. “Very.”

And he kissed her again. 

This time, he pulled her up to his chest, keeping her legs locked around his, and stood. How he did that so gracefully with her wrapped around him like a koala, she didn’t know. But he carried her across the room and to her bed, where he broke apart and set her down gently.

And took a step back.

Dean laughed as Y/n sagged with a pout. She looked up at him through her lashes and reached for him again.

“You’re cruel. Come here.”

“I told you, I won't do this now.”

“You said not on the couch,” she pointed out. She snapped her fingers. “Come back now.”

Dean grinned and clasped the sides of her head, bending to give her one last gentle kiss.

“I thought you weren’t ready.”

Y/n thought for a moment. Twenty-three years of sexual frustration had built, and he was right in front of her, willing to be her outlet. And in the moment, she was definitely ready. But taking a step back…

“We don’t have to do it now. Just come lie with me.”

“I need to shower,” Dean said. He shifted uncomfortably and Y/n’s eyes flashed down to where his jeans were definitely straining against his crotch. She smirked and looked up at him again.

“Naughty boy.”

“It’s your fault, Lord Commander.” He pointed at her and shot her a wink. “Your fault.”

He disappeared into the bathroom and Y/n laughed. A warmth had spread over her chest and seeped into the deepest parts of her heart. That hole that had formed inside her, the one that had concaved in on itself when she lost her family and sunk into a survival mode that changed her and tore her very being apart, had begun to fill.

And she had Dean to thank for that.

She wasn’t in love. Of course, she wasn’t sure what love really was. But she felt herself falling. She knew she was falling. Which was ridiculous, right? It wasn’t as if she knew him very long. Not even two months had passed since she met him. Yet he was nestling into the depths of her heart and mind, rooting himself there.

Fuck was it terryfiying.

He was helping fill that empty void she always felt. But what if she lost him? What if she lost him like she lost her family? The ones who mattered most to her? She didn’t think she would be able to handle losing someone she loved again. 

And while she could easily lose herself in love, in a romance that she had wanted for so long, it wasn’t what was important. The camp was the most important thing in her life right now. She wouldn’t let feelings get in the way of protecting the camp or its people. 

Perhaps throwing herself into her work would help stow those feelings away. They would be kept at bay so she could focus, so that maybe she wouldn’t inevitably become hurt by his leaving. Because everyone in her life left. What would make him so different? He could say he wouldn’t leave, say he wouldn’t do the same thing as everyone else had. 

But every one of those people who left said the same thing, yet they still turned their backs on her.

Sighing, Y/n slumped further onto her bed, burrowing into the blankets and pressing her head into the pillow. She had been up so early that morning and exhaustion was weighing down on her. She had been working throughout the day and into the night before waking up before the sun the next day. She was beat.

As her eyes began to droop, Dean emerged from her bathroom. She peeked and eyes open and watched as he toweled off his wet hair, dressed in simple jeans and a henley. Hanging the towel on the rack before he sauntered over to the bed where Y/n was laying. He gently reached down to run a hand along the back of her head.

“Are you okay?” He asked, fingers lightly caressing her head, worry etched into his face.

“Yes. Why?” 

“You seem sad,” he told her. He sat down on the edge of the mattress and rested a hand on her back. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No, not at all,” she promised. She sat up and locked eyes with him. “That’s kind of the problem.”

He cocked his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I don’t know how to keep myself from falling for you,” she said honestly. May as well speak the truth in the apocalypse, no beating around the bush when you could die at any moment. “I don’t know how to keep myself from getting hurt.”

Dean frowned. “Is that what’s happening here?”

Y/n swallowed the lump in her throat and gave a slight shrug. “I don’t know.”

Dean hesitated but nodded briefly and looked away. “You might want to figure that out.”

“I know.”

He sighed and squeezed her hip affectionately. “I thought I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” He still didn’t make eye contact when he added despondently, “don’t you trust me?”

Y/n’s heart thumped roughly in her chest. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you still question my motives? Why don’t you believe anyone could love you?”

Suddenly her heart was in her throat. Love her? He couldn’t love her. This couldn't be love with him. Not yet. Maybe infatuation or attraction, but he couldn’t possibly love her. He seemed to catch what he said because his face turned red and he stiffened. 

“Because everyone always says that. They never plan to leave in the beginning.”

“Well sorry, sweetheart. You’re stuck with me,” Dean said.

“For now.”

He rolled his eyes and stood up, beckoning her to the door. “I don’t want to argue with nonsense.”

“It’s not nonsense if it’s true,” Y/n muttered, taking his hand. He scowled.

“That in of itself is nonsense,” he said. “But come on, let’s get some work done before we say something we regret.”

Before the two could reach the door, it crashed open, Luke’s frantic face stepping into view as he nearly fell inside with the force he used to open the door. Y/n jumped and Dean crouched into a defensive stance automatically.

“Jesus, Luke!” Y/n said. “What the hell?”

“It’s… you have to look… I don't even…” Luke sucked in breaths rapidly, his face turning ashy pale as he hyperventilated. Y/n wasted no time in moving in front of her closest friend and second-in-command, placing her hands on his shoulders.

“Breathe, Luke,” she said. “Like me. In, hold, out, good. Again.”

He did his best to match her breathing, the terror still written on his face and glowing in his eyes, body trembling. He looked as if he had seen a ghost.

“Now, tell me what happened.”

“The barbarians. The runners left this morning for a hunt. They hadn’t come back in time-”

“Wait, they didn’t? Why wasn’t I informed?” Y/n asked, fingers tightening on Luke’s shoulders.

“Well… Mikela thought it best if we didn’t tell you. You’re finally back to health, well for the most part. Don’t think we haven’t noticed how you stare into space sometimes or forget something right after it happened. Your head is still healing and-”

“It doesn’t fucking matter.” She let go of him roughly, moving to the door. “I’m still the fucking leader.”

“We need a leader who is well enough to lead. She came to me and-”

Y/n spun around to face him. He stumbled back on the look on her face. She was furious, feeling betrayed. “Excuse me?”

“I’m second in command. I didn’t think it was right so I came to you and-”

“I’m not some fucking weakling,” she snarled. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not, and that’s okay. You’re not fine. You haven’t been fine in a long time,” Luke said. She nearly vibrated with rage.

“I’m fine enough to lead this camp. I’m fine enough to fulfill the duties I promised to fulfill when I took this position. You are second in command, not first. Which means I am the one they come to. Not you.”

“I know,” he said quietly. He looked down at his shoes. 

“Now. What the hell happened?”

“Runners two and six went hunting this morning.”

“Sophie and Gary. I wrote the schedule,” she said flatly. Luke nodded.

“They didn’t come back. So Mikela went out with runner three, Matthew, and-and they came back but we need you. Just… come with me. I have to show you.”

Glancing at Dean for a moment, who looked back at her with equal confusion, Y/n followed Luke outside. Some people were gathered by the front gate, but the guards were holding their line firmly. The small crowd of people parted to let Y/n through.

“What happened?”

“Where’s Gary?”

“If they’re dead, I blame you!”

Y/n stepped through the gate that the guards opened for her, ignoring the shouts from the crowd. Mikela was there, face as stony as ever, with Matthew and Richard at her sides. Y/n cocked her head.

“What happened? Luke was very vague.”

Mikela jerked her head behind her and led Y/n through the trees. Clouds covered the sky, but slivers of sunlight cut through the curtain of gray and down into the breaks of the leaves. They were on alert as they walked, Matthew, Dean, and Luke trailing behind the two women as they went.

“Why is he here?” Luke asked.

Y/n glanced back at them. Dean had turned his head to glare at Luke, who tried not to look in his direction. Y/n shrugged.

“He’s going to be a guard. He needs some field experience.”

Luke scoffed. “You’re only letting him trail you like a puppy because you’re fucking him.”

Everyone stopped walking collectively. Luke had paled and taken a step back, knowing he had gone too far. Dean’s face hardened as he gripped Luke’s shirt collar and dragged him within inches of his face.

“Watch your damn mouth,” he snarled. Luke shoved against Dean’s chest hard and stumbled back as the man let go.

“Luke,” Y/n spoke calmly. He turned to her.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“If I hear one more word from your mouth, Dean won’t be the one you have to worry about. Speak to me or any other woman like that and I’ll boot you from your role here, and then contemplate your stay here at the camp. Is that understood?”

Luke nodded and swallowed hard. 

“Good,” Y/n said. “You’ve tested my patience enough today. Go back to the camp and stay there.”

“Yes, Lord Commander,” he said, trying to lift the spirits with her nickname. But it didn’t work, and he turned to slink back through the trees.

“Come on, we don’t have much time,” Mikela said lowly, gripping Y/n’s elbow to tug her along. They only walked for about a minute before she stopped and turned away. “Look.”

Mikela lifted her hand to point a few yards away. Y/n followed her finger and gasped in shock before she almost cried out in horror. She slapped her hands over her mouth to muffle the sounds. 

There, strung up by his neck, Gary hung from a thick branch of a tree. His eyes had been ripped from his head- dark, bloody sockets remaining. His throat had been hacked at, his clothes had been stolen, and his body had been utterly disfigured. Chunks of thigh had been cut away, one of his arms was missing.

The only way she knew it was Gary was by the tattoo on his chest, a family crest that sat over his heart. It had been cut into with a knife, an X marking it.

Y/n thought she may faint. Her knees wobbled at the sight and she quickly turned away, forcing the vomit that threatened to come up down. 

“Oh my God.”

“We haven’t found Sophie. We think it was the barbarians.”

“You’re sure?” Y/n asked. Mikela nodded and held out a piece of paper. It was crumpled and bloody. 

“This was nailed to his foot when we found him.”

Y/n took the paper tentatively, clenching her jaw as she read it.

“Thanks for the meal and for the fun. They’ll have to do until I get you back, Y/n.  -R.”

Y/n looked up at Dean, fear gripping her heart. Rick. He was still alive. 

“Why?” Was all she could say. Dean shook his head and closed his eyes for a moment.

“It has to be them, right?” Mikela asked. “R. He’s one of the guys who we fought last year. One of the guys who took you?”

Y/n nodded and folded the letter before shoving into her pocket. She cleared her throat and loosed a breath. “Yeah. Yeah, this was the barbarians. Rick. He uh… he’s threatened me on more than one occasion. He’s pissed that I got away from him again.”

“So what do we do?” Matthew asked. Y/n looked between the three of them, chewing on her lip as she thought. Sighing, she turned to the body hanging in the tree and winced.

“We have to give him a proper burial.” She took her switchblade from her pocket and put it in her mouth to hold it as she hauled herself up the tree, climbing it enough by the branches to reach the rope that held Gary hanging. She suppressed a gag at the smell of blood and decay and flicked the knife open. She sawed at the rope a few times until it gave away and Gary fell to the ground. “We’ll bury him in the cemetery with the others.”

“I’ll run back and grab a sheet or something,” Matthew said. He broke out into a run, desperate to get far away from their mutilated friend.

“Poor Gary,” Mikela said softly. “He was always so nice.”

“And what about the other one? Sophie, was it?” Dean asked. “You think they… they took her?”

“I hope not,” Y/n said. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “God, I hope not.”

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[blackshinychevy]

Let Me Go

Summary: Dean has to make a heartbreaking decision that effects both of you.

WC: 1.6k+

Warnings: Angst, Character Death

Pairing: Dean x Reader

It’s late when Sam gets back to the bunker. There’s a huge thunderstorm outside that has most of the roads flooded and blocked off. He’s barely made it back with the take out he’d gone to get for he and his older brother, but the question of whether or not Dean will actually eat it is another matter.

Sam’s starting to become extremely worried about his older sibling. Dean’s always been a strong lover of food, the greasier the better. But Sam has noticed the drop in his brother’s appetite, as well as the newly made hole in his belt now that his jeans are becoming too loose around his waist.

As he walks into the kitchen, he sees Dean sat at the kitchen table, nursing a beer that has probably long since become warm. But Sam doesn’t miss the other five empty bottles beside him, as well as an empty whiskey tumbler.

“Hey.” He greets, dropping the plastic bag of food in front of him. “Got you a double bacon cheeseburger with extra onions and a side of fries.” Sam smiles in encouragement as he piles Dean’s favorites onto the table. “And...” Sam pulls out the last treat with a grin. “...cherry pie. Best around for miles apparently.” Sam’s smile wilts when Dean doesn’t even show he’s heard him. He merely continues rolling the beer bottle back and forth between his hands. “Where’s y/n?” The younger Winchester asks, glancing around the kitchen.

“In our room.” Dean states gruffly.

Sam knows at this point he needs to tread very carefully. One wrong word and Dean could snap again like he did the other night. It had taken Sam hours to put the library back to rights after his brother had torn through it like a hurricane during a drunken rage.

“Dean.” He sighs softly. “Don’t you think it’s time now? You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”

Dean drops the bottle down with a clunk, raising himself to his feet and marching towards the door. “I’m going to bed.” He states, not even glancing at his brother as he leaves the kitchen.

Sam throws the takeout box onto the table in defeat. He’d tried. But he knows he can do no more than what he’s already doing. The next step has to be entirely up to Dean.

****

Dean stumbles into your shared bedroom, shutting the door with a little more force than was probably necessary and groaning at the headache that was forming behind his eyes. “Hey, baby.” He grins at the sight of you perched on the edge of the bed, a small smile on your face as watch him.

“Hey.” You greet him back, brow quirking as he makes his way over to you with a sway in his step. “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough.” He groans, towing off his boots and throwing himself face first on to the bed, eyes drooping closed almost immediately.

You sigh sadly at his pain. Dean’s never been good at dealing with his emotions, choosing to bottle everything up until it all reaches a boiling point. The other night was proof of that. You’d heard his drunken yelling as things smashed against the walls, as well as Sam’s voice, pleading for his brother to calm down.

“Dean.” You call softly, leaning over his body, lips almost brushing his ear. “Dean, we need to talk.”

“Later.” He grumbles. “Need some sleep.”

Your heart breaks even more. Unlike Dean, you don’t have the option of bottling everything inside. The both of you need to talk desperately. Because you can’t continue the way you’re going. It’s not fair to him and it’s not fair to you.

“Dean. This has to stop.” Your voice cracks at the end. This is going to be the hardest thing either of you has had to do. But it’s time. “You need to let me go.”

His eyes snap open and his body jerks off the bed to sit himself up right, and he looks at you with an expression that can only be compared to terror. “No!” He roars. “How can you say that?! Ask me anything, baby. I’ll do anything you want. Just don’t ask me to do that. Please.” Tears brim in the corners of his eyes and you hear the quiver in his voice. Your heart shatters in your chest as you keep your eyes on his.

“You have to.” You press. “This isn’t healthy, baby. You need to let me go. I don’t belong here anymore. We both know that.” A tear trickles down your cheek. “It’s not your fault what happened. You can’t keep punishing yourself over it.” You smile.

He sniffs, wiping roughly under his eyes to rid his cheeks of the tears. “Why’d ya do it? Shoulda been me.” He bares his teeth in anger.

It was supposed to be a simple hunt. A werewolf been terrorizing a small town and when the three of you had tried to take it down, things had gone horribly wrong. The werewolf it turned out, had a partner, and after it tried to strike Dean from behind, you’d jumped in between the two of them to save the man you loved. The next time you left the barn, Dean was carrying your cold and bloodied body in his arms. That was three months ago, and here you are still. Trapped in the veil, unable to move on due to Dean’s grief and guilt. The brothers had burned your bones on a hunters pyre, and despite not tying yourself to anything on earth, your spirit still lingered. Dean’s soul had latched tightly on to yours, desperate to keep you with him and unable to let go.

“I jumped between you and that werewolf, because you’re the only man I’ve ever been in love with. Only one for me. I could have the chance to do that day a hundred times over. And I’d still jump in front of you.” You sigh sadly. If only you’d known about the second wolf. Maybe you’d still be there with him. Able to hold his hand and kiss him awake every morning. Feel his warm skin on yours as he made love to you under the stars in the back of the impala. Maybe you’d have grown old together, had a couple of kids and gotten married. But that was never going to happen now. His heart was still beating. And your’s had stopped.

“How do I do this with you?” He whispers, eyes red as fresh tears fall. “I don’t know how to...”

You raise your hand, brushing it along his cheek, desperately wishing you could feel the heat of it against your palm. He leans into you, feeling nothing but cold air instead of warm flesh. “You’ve got Sammy.” You soothe. “He needs you too. More than I do. And you did just fine before you met me.”

“But I need you.” He whispers. “I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too. So much. And I’ll be waiting for you. But you need to move on from me, Dean.” He looks horrified at your suggestion, and you offer another smile of comfort. “You need to go on living. Find another girl, fall in love again. Have children with her. Marry her if she makes you happy. And one day, if I’m still what you want, I’ll be waiting for you on the other side.”

Dean’s head falls forward as he sobs into his hands. He tries desperately to catch his breath, feeling his heart splintering behind his ribs. If they could, tears would pour from your own eyes at the sight of him so distraught.

“I don’t want to let you go.” There’s an almost pleading tone to his voice, begging you to stay.

“We know what happens to ghosts that stay too long.” You say sadly. “Please don’t make me become like that.”

Dean runs a rough hand through his hair. It’s getting longer. Another thing he’s neglected since loosing you.

“I have to don’t I? I have to let you go.” He cries silently.

“Yeah, baby. You do.” You nod. You place your hand on his knee, and Dean stares at it wistfully. His eyes close as his mind flashes back to when you’d do the same thing from the passengers seat. Laughing over at him as he sang along to Metallica and you’d both head bang to Motörhead.

He remembers the first time he’d met you on a vamp case just outside of St. Louis. They’d needed backup and Garth had sent you their way with a quick phone call. Dean would never deny how he’d fallen head over heels the first time he’d seen you. Covered in vampire blood and swinging a machete like it was your own limb. He recalls the first time you’d said you’d loved each other. It had been in the middle of a heated argument after you’d been injured on a ghoul case. You’d walked away with a sprained wrist but Dean had acted like you’d lost your entire arm. He’d tried benching you and after you’d promptly punched him in the jaw for being such a Neanderthal, he’d blurted out that he refused to let the only woman he’d ever really loved kill her self out of stupidity. He’d made love to you for the first time that night. The best night of his life. He knows he’ll never love anyone the way he loved you, but if that’s what you want for him, he’ll do it. He’ll honor your memory and keep on living. He’ll do it for you.

Dean lets out a long sigh as he opens his eyes. He turns his head to look over at you and he feels his heart disintegrate in his chest. You’re gone...

*****

There you go guys! Another oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and stay safe and stay tuned for more. More updates this week. Xx

[thran-duils]

Use All Of Me (P.3)

Title: Use All Of Me (Part Three) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark Mob!Steve Rogers. The Avengers are heroes saving the world but in this AU, they are also permitted by the powers in charge to have less than favorable business underneath their guise of mere superheroes. Steve and Tony are at the helm, keeping their empire’s wealth in check, both devious and perilous if crossed. Steve takes a liking to the reader at a party and it may be her undoing to her autonomy choosing to go home with him. Words: 2,382 Warnings: Dark AF, angst, emotional/mental abuse, smut, breeding, death Author’s Notes: This relationship is going to go ~downhill~ from healthy really quick. Please do not read if that is going to offend you.

If anyone is interested in a playlist I am using for this while I write...

Part Two || Part Four || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Sweating, you brushed the sweat from your brow. Even though you had changed out of your original dress and swapped it for shorts and a tank, you were still hot. The club was packed considering it was a live music night, with Every Time I Die headlining in their home state. Thankfully the show had not been sold out entirely when you had shown up. You doubted it had stayed that way since the main set had started and it was after 10pm.

Keith yelled into the mic, encouraging people to come up on stage with them for the next song.

The shape of your data got me astral projecting But I think you and I, we need to talk

The room was alive, people crowding the stage as people began to find their way up there, headbanging around the artists before diving off the stage to welcome arms.

“I wanna do that!” you yelled over the music to Yua. The pair of you were further into the crowd than Natalie and your other couple friends. You were sure they were still standing by one of the tables up the stairs.

“Are you serious, Y/N?” she laughed, looking jubilant.

“You should!” the guy, Joseph, that had attached himself to yours and Yua’s side during the show encouraged you. He was cute enough, was not handsy – a huge plus especially in a huge crowd where people had been drinking or doing drugs.

You teased, “You just want to be one of the people holding us.”

He let out a laugh and said over the music, “If you think so lowly of me, maybe I need to prove myself a little harder!”

Yes, he certainly was cute. You beamed at him. Maybe you would not end up alone tonight.

“Here! Let’s go up!” Yua said, tugging on your arm. “Just make sure you don’t get punched in the face if you get too close to the mosh pit.”

The two of you shoved your way through the crowd towards the stage.

<> <> <>

Natalie craned her neck to look over the crowd to where Yua and Y/N had been. They were no longer there and she sighed. She hoped they were not getting themselves into trouble, mainly the mosh pit. Yua and Y/N both had suffered bruises before and still went back. They insisted it was fun; she saw nothing fun about it, she rather enjoyed watching the show from afar where she could enjoy it in more relative peace.

“What’s wrong?” Ada asked her over the music.

“I can’t find Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb.”

Miriam asked what she said from across the table and Natalie repeated herself.

“They’re fine. They can handle themselves,” Miriam reassured her. “We’ve been in worse places with a far rougher crowd and they’ve managed.”

“Too true,” Natalie agreed.

Over the heads of the crowd, Natalie’s eyes came to rest on a familiar face. Her stomach dropped seeing Steve, who looked entirely displeased. He was searching the crowd and she had a great idea of who he was looking for.

“Shit,” she said out loud. She looked back over the crowd desperately. It was not going to look good if Y/N was still flirting with that other random guy. She was worried for that potential mess with someone like Steve.

“What?” Ada asked confused, following her line of sight. She of course did not recognize what Natalie did because she did not know who Steve was yet.

Leaning in closer to the pair, she explained, “Y/N’s date from tonight, yeah? The one that stood her up? He’s here.”

“What?” Miriam gasped, standing up trying to figure out who it was in the general direction Natalie had been looking.

“Found ‘em,” Ada feebly said, pointing out across the crowd towards the stage.

Natalie and Miriam looked to the stage and Natalie wanted to scream in frustration. Both Yua and Y/N were on the stage, dancing close to the edge of the stage. Y/N dove off the stage into the crowd, Natalie tracking the spot where she had fallen onto. Her stomach flipped seeing Steve was already on his way, the crowd easily parting for someone his size. She would not make it to Y/N before he did.

She just had to let that unfold, feeling a rock sinking in her stomach.

<> <> <>

A group of people helped you slide to the ground so you could land on your feet, even if you were a little unsteady.

Joseph was there. He held up his hands and said, “No touchy. I was just here to make sure you got down okay.”

“How gentlemen like of you!” you smiled at him, tapping him on the nose.

You let out a laugh and turned back towards the stage. You could not spot Yua, you thought she would jump in the same direction as you. You stood on your tiptoes still to no avail.

Suddenly you saw her and you moved to where she was, greeting her as she came down.

“See, I told you it would be fun!” you yelled to her and she nodded in agreement. She had a wide smile planted on her face as she tried to fix her hair. You slid off an extra hair tie and handed it to her as the song ended. “Let’s go back to the table! I want another drink!”

Turning to Joseph, you grabbed his arm. “You can come with us! It’s on me!”

He looked pleased, nodding. “Alright, cool.”

His arm intertwined with yours in turn to your grasp and the two of you turned. But just like that, your smile melted away.

Steve was there blocking your way, a vexed look painted on his face. His gaze dropped down to where you and Joseph’s arms were interlinked; you could see his jaw clench at the sight.

“Steve,” you said breathlessly. “What… what are you doing here?”

Joseph seemed to catch the situation and dropped your arm, uncomfortably taking a step back. Yua came to his side instead of you. He was staring at Steve in awe, no doubt recognizing him.

“Come on,” Steve ordered you sternly, grabbing your hand and beginning to lead you through the crowd away from the stage without waiting for you to respond. You shot a look over your shoulder at Yua, seeing the worried expression on her face. Joseph leaned in to speak to her and you were sure he was asking what was going on.

He did not stop until the two of you were outside, you struggling to keep up with his stride, even with people around. They seemed to move out of his way, which did not help slow down his pace.

“Steve?” you tried as the two of you began walking down the sidewalk past the crowd outside.

He ignored you.

Away from the line, halfway down the block, he came to a sudden stop and let go of your hand roughly.

“That was foolish, Y/N.”

He was scolding you? He was the one that had stood you up.

Defensively, you told him, “It was just a bit of fun. I’m not hurt.”

“You could have been. And who was the kid?”

Kid? Joseph was most certainly in his late twenties, early thirties. Although, you were sure with how old Steve was, anyone could seem like a kid.

“Just some guy that was in the crowd,” you shrugged, trying to play it off. “He made friends with us. We were about to go have some more drinks with him. He’s cool.”

“’Cool’,” Steve drawled. You nodded, not knowing what he wanted you to say. “Looked like you were getting quite close. Like it might lead to going home.”

Cocking your head, you challenged, “You don’t get to scold me because I was hanging out with him. You’re the one who ditched me.”

Steve’s tone was laced with annoyance, “I tried to call you. Multiple times. And you didn’t answer me.”

“My phone is in my purse.”

“Well, if you would have had it on you, you would have seen that.”

Frustrated, you exasperated, “You didn’t show up!”

“I know! And I’m sorry about that. I got caught up in work.”

“And you couldn’t even send me a text?”

“There was no service.”

You scoffed and Steve’s jaw tightened. “What? That’s such a bullshit excuse. Where is there not service in NYC?”

“Underground,” Steve told you as a matter of fact.

Oh.

You opened your mouth to ask what he was doing underground but he anticipated it, “I can’t talk to you about that. You know that or you should.” You closed your mouth. He took a step closer, peering down his nose at you, a dangerous glint in his eye. “So, let me ask you again… were you planning on going home with him? If it came to that?”

There were a few moments of uncomfortable silence, you knowing he knew the answer already, but he wanted you to say it out loud.

Shrugging, you said, “Yeah, sure.” Steve gave a dry laugh and you told him firmly, “I thought you were done with me. So, excuse me.”

“Yes, excuse you. What the hell were you thinking? It was the same damn night you had a date with me, Y/N!” Steve snapped.

You recoiled a bit and he sighed loudly, putting his hands on his hips. He closed his eyes, swallowing sharply, taking a few moments. “Look, I’m sorry. I was just worried about you and I’m a little high strung.”

“Worried about me?” you asked disbelieving.

“Yeah, I drove by your place and it was dark. Seemed a little odd it being so early. And with you not answering your phone… So, I checked your location to see where you were. I did not know what this place was, so I came down here to check it out. To make sure nothing had happened to you. And if you were alright, I just wanted to tell you face to face that I was sorry for not being able to get a hold of you to let you know I was going to be late. I owe you that much for missing our date. I was looking forward to it.”

He sounded sincere and the anger melted a bit at his words. He was waiting for you to say something.

“So,” you started, licking your lip. The tension was waning on you and you wanted to move on from it, salvage what you could. A smirk tugged at the corner of your mouth. “Can I call you my boyfriend now? Since you’re so worried about me and all?”

Steve visibly relaxed, the tension leaving his jaw.

“Look, I’ll keep it in mind in the future you might be on some secret mission,” you told him, closing the space between the two of you, Your hand rested on his chest, playing with the edge of his leather jacket. “And I’ll keep my legs closed until I know for sure otherwise.”

“That’s a crude way to put it,” Steve responded.

“Fine. I’ll stay at home, waiting by the window, pining for you to return. Is that better?”

This drew a small smile out of him at least. He reached up to hold the side of your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I quite like the idea of you pining. It paints such a pretty picture.”

“Of course you do. It’s an ego booster.” You tossed a look over your shoulder and if you were not mistaken, Steve’s grip on your neck tightened ever so slightly. “The bouncer should let us back in.”

Steve forced you to look back at him. “Not my scene.”

“Is it classical then?”

“I do enjoy that, but it’s not just that.”

Suddenly curious, you asked, “How did you get in anyway? I thought it would have been sold out.”

“It was. I spoke to the bouncer.”

“So, he’s a Captain America fan, then?”

“Something like that.”

There was something hanging in the air with that statement, but something deep down told you to leave it alone.

“Regardless, I do need to get my purse…”

“Right,” Steve said, his hand dropping to come to hold you around your waist, turning you around to walk back down the sidewalk to the door. When you got there, the bouncer saw it was Steve and nodded him through.

Instead of letting you go in alone, Steve went with you. He stood a few paces away as you grabbed your purse, assuring your friends that you were alright. You let them know you were going home with Steve and to not wait up for you. When you got back to his side, he leaned down, giving you a kiss on your forehead. His hand gripped your wrist, leading you back outside, leaving your friends behind.

<> <> <>

Steve’s house was enormous compared to your apartment. He had insisted you go home with him, promising you breakfast in bed. How could you say no to that?

You had been enthralled with the pool room – after you insisted he show you around the place. Steve had not been deterred when you suggested skinny dipping, ushering you along out of the room to continue the tour. When he brushed behind you in the process of doing this, you already could feel him through his slacks. No wonder he had been in such a hurry.

Steve moaned beneath you, his eyes hooded with lust as he watched you towering over him as you rode him. His hands gripped your ass, helping to guide you with more force. Panting loudly, your fingers dug into his chest. Steve lifted his head up to suck and bite at your breasts, adding to your sensation. Your lips crashed into his desperately as you felt the peak quickly incoming.

You cried out against his lips, convulsing around him.

“That’s it,” Steve rasped out in praise.

He increased his speed, pushing himself over the edge. You felt him empty himself as he gasped out broken praises for you and you alone.

Tucked into his embrace, your back to him, you relaxed.

As you slipped off to sleep, you felt Steve’s arm wrap around you, his hand caressing your abdomen.

~~~

Tags: @imsonick, @alexakeyloveloki, @kvzctam, @ironlady1993, @taintedgenre

[all-my-love-for-harry]

A priority.

summary: Y/N defends herself from the hate and Harry gets mad.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: angst!

a/n: a little something to hold onto until i finish some requests for my shy little boy, hope you like this! (i’m on a roll, sorry for posting so much mjsiw)

you can find the rest of my masterlist here

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Ugly. Worthless. Bitch. And her personal favorite, slut. Those words along with some others were all over Y/N’s social media accounts every single day.

Ever since some bloody paparazzi took a picture of Harry and Y/N holding hands while shopping, Y/N couldn’t go online without having thousands of strangers on the internet throwing names at her.

She should’ve seen it coming, honestly. It was stupid to think they could hide their relationship forever, she just wished fans wouldn’t be so aggressive towards her.

Y/N wanted to understand, she really did. For a solid week she convinced herself they were just being protective over Harry, but after the insults and derogatory comments about her imagine didn’t stop, she started to grow annoyed. She started believing fans just didn’t want to see him happy.

Y/N had to bit her tongue numerous times, knowing that if she stood up for herself, it would only be worse. So she tried to ignore it.

She didn’t stop using social media, why the hell would she stop having a life because of fans that couldn’t contain their need to harass every person Harry became close with?

A month after the pictures of them were out for the entire world to see, Harry had to travel to the States for work. He was supposed to be away for only two weeks, and Y/N was going to stay at his house a couple of days before his arrival so they can spend time together right away.

Laying on the couch, Y/N scrolled mindlessly through her Instagram feed, seeing what her friends and family were up to. She rolled her eyes when her notifications started to go off, not really wanting to enter and see her entire comment section below her posts full of hate towards her.

But curiosity killed the cat.

Promising herself she would only have a look, she clicked her notifications. She had posted a picture yesterday when she went out with a couple of her girlfriend, so all the comments were directed towards that post.

She’s dressed like a slut here

Can’t believe Harry is dating her…

He can do so much better, what a shame

It can be so easy to slip into a mindset where she let these type of things affect her and her confidence, but she simply chose not to. These people didn’t know her, and probably never will.

I can’t wait for harry to realize the kind of whore you are and dumps your fucking ass.

Oh well, that’s hilarious. Now she was mad. Probably picking a fight wasn’t the smartest decision she’s ever made, but she couldn’t help it. She let the anger speak for itself as she pressed the reply bottom and started writing directly to that specific comment.

‘So he can date you instead or what?”

Send.

Y/N dropped her phone on her lap, deciding it was enough internet for the day. She decided to move to the kitchen and start on the cupcakes she had previously planned to bake her boyfriend. Harry wasn’t one to allow himself to eat a lot of unhealthy stuff, as he has always tried to be as healthy as possible. But, man, cupcakes were something Harry absolutely loved.

She didn’t really touched her phone for the rest of the afternoon, staying busy in other things. She had a facetime call with Harry at night, and she was looking forward to see his face, even if it was only through the phone. Her phone didn’t have enough battery, so she turned on her computer to wait for Harry’s call.

The screen lightened, showing Harry’s upcoming call. Y/N furrowed, thinking he was way earlier but she wouldn’t complain about it. She answered the call, expecting to see her beautiful boyfriend’s dimpled smile on the screen, but she was surprised when she saw a serious look instead.

“Why would you do that, Y/N?” he asked sternly.

“Do what?” Was this some kind of joke?

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Y/N. Don’t play dumb”

“Excuse me?” she raised her eyebrows. “Maybe if you explained what you mean we could talk about it”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Do you have any idea how disrespectful it was from you to answer like that to a fan? It was unnecessary and, to be honest, childish from you”

Y/N was surprised. “Yeah, maybe I was rude but I don’t think I was being childish, Harry”

“Yes, you were. Are you aware of how this makes me look? You can’t just say things like those and don’t think it wouldn’t affect my image too”

Well, what the fuck. “Ah, yes. Treat people with kindness and whatnot. I guess that doesn’t include your fucking girlfriend, because the only reason why I said what I said was because your bloody fans wouldn’t stop harassing me!” Now her face had a deep frown.

“You sure you’re not being a little dramatic? I mean, how bad could the hate get?”

“How bad?! Harry, do you even go online? To them I’m nothing but a fucking whore, do you have any idea of how fucking frustrating is to be treated like you’re the worst human being by your fans just because we’re dating?”

“There’s always gonna be people like that, Y/N” he sighed. “You need to learn how to ignore it”

“Do you think I haven’t tried? I’m sorry but it is not my fault the fans can’t contain themselves from sending death threats to every person that breaths close to you!” she paused. “Do you seriously just called me to scold me?”

“Well, I’m not happy about what you did, to be honest. They’re my fans, Y/N. They deserve to be respected”

“And I don’t?” she raised an eyebrow. “You know what? I’m done. Enjoy your day alone tomorrow because I’m fucking leaving”

“Leaving? What do you mean?” Harry’s pulse started to rise, watching his girlfriend stand up from the bed, the computer moved and he saw she was in his house. “Y/N, don’t leave. We’ll talk about this tomorrow”

“No, I’ve heard enough. I don’t want to talk to you right now” She closed her computer, hanging up. She put on her jacket and took her phone from the nightstand.

Before she exited the house, she went to the kitchen and threw the cupcakes she made in the trash.

Harry, you fucking asshole.

They’ve only dated for seven months and have never really got into a fight before. Y/N was a very impulsive person, more so when she was mad. Fuck, she knew his fans were important to him, she understood that. But it was becoming too much for Y/N to handle.

She loved Harry, she was truly in love with him. But was it really worth it to go through all of this if he wasn’t even willing to stand up for her?

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Harry changed his flights. After Y/N hung up on him, he realized he behaved like a proper asshole. He could’ve said so many things differently, without offending her the way he did.

He didn’t like she thought she wasn’t important to him. He was scared all the baggage he carried with him was a deal breaker for her, it has been on the past for almost every other relationship he has ever had.

It wasn’t fair of him to straight up scold her without hearing her first. He was upset and didn’t think enough before speaking, and now he regretted it.

He knew he needed to fix things. Fast.

Even though the night before Y/N made very clear she wasn’t staying, a part of him still hoped to see her curled up on the couch watching Netflix and waiting for him to arrive, but he was welcomed by an empty house.

He sighed, passing his hand through his curls, thinking how he could make it up to her. He went to the kitchen, where he kept his car keys. Harry stopped his tracks when he saw the trash can.

His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the homemade untouched cupcakes tossed into the trash.

He better make this right.

❁ ❁ ❁ ❁

Y/N was bored. She had cleared her schedule because Harry was coming home and now she had nothing to do other than drown on her sorrows.

Being bored and upset at her boyfriend, made her take the decision to take an afternoon nap on her couch. She had been asleep for a little while when someone started banging at the door.

You see, Harry had a key to her place, but he feel undeserving of using it after the way he treated her. But she wasn’t answering, and it wasn’t because she wasn’t home, he had seen her car in the parking lot of her apartment building.

Keying into her place, he looked around for his girlfriend, finding her sleeping figure on the couch, a blanked wrapped around her. He didn’t want to wake her up but they really needed to talk, so he kneeled down to be at the same eye level.

“Y/N… Y/N, wake up” he shook her a little. Her eyelashes fluttered a little before her eyes opened, a frown immediately appearing on her face.

“What are you doing here?” She sat down, taking the blanked off of her and crossing her arms.

“I’m so sorry, baby”

“Now I’m baby? Not the childish Y/N you were scolding yesterday?”

He sighed, moving to sit in the coffee table to be in front of her. “I’m sorry for the way I behaved yesterday, it wasn’t fair for you”

“It wasn’t”

“I was upset, Jeff had sent me a screenshot of the comment and I didn’t even check social media. It was impulsive and wrong from me and I apologize”

“I don’t like the way you talked to me yesterday, Harry”

“I know. If I could take it back, I would in a heartbeat. Please don’t leave me over this, my love” he grabbed her hands, feeling tears threaten to spill out of his eyes. “I know it isn’t fair for you, I know you’ll have to put up to so much shit, but please, please don’t give up on us. I swear I’ll make it right, Y/N, I don’t want these kind of situations get in the way of us”

“I’m not going to leave you” she mumbled. “I’m upset, yes. I know I was wrong too, but it all got too much and i… snapped. I know these kind of things affect your image and reputation too, so I’m sorry”

“I don’t care about my image. I should’ve said something sooner, before it all went out of control. I suppose I ignored it, hoping you’d do the same. I’m sorry for not checking up with you about this”

Y/N gave him a little smile, pulling from his hands to make him sit beside her. She wrapped her arms around his torso, pushing herself into his chest. “I know your fans are important to you, and you love them. I swear I want to have a good relationship with them, because they’re a huge part of your life, and I’m gonna work on that, I promise”

“And I promise I’ll stand up for you. I love my fans, so much. But you’re my girlfriend, my priority” he kissed her forehead. “I love you, Y/N, my baby”

“I love you more, love” she planted little kisses on his chin and jaw.

“Enough to make me more cupcakes?” Y/N let out a belly laugh, nodding. “Good. You owe me after you threw those to the trash”

“That’s what you get for being a meanie”