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itsbeeble · 10 months

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Should’ve Said No

Summary: It’s dark, and cold, and lonely when Seungcheol gets to your apartment. He knows what he’s done. He knows the mistakes he’s made. Now he’s stuck wishing he had just said no.

Genre: Angst, idol!au, lovers to strangers, hurt/no comfort

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x gn!reader

WC: 1.4k

Series Masterlist

WARNINGS UNDER THE CUT

Warnings: this is gonna hurt, cheating, a lot of arguing, swearing, mentions of alcohol use, there will be no comfort, cheol is a BITCH, reader calls the mistress a bitch, a bit of violence (reader slaps cheol and shoves him)

Listen to Should’ve Said No by Taylor Swift for full effect

It’s quiet in your apartment when he opens the door. He’s tired, and all he wants to do is curl up beside you after months of being away on tour, but there’s something weighing on his chest. Something lonelier than the apartment he comes home to.

It’s dark, and it’s quiet, and it’s lonely, and he swallows the lump in his throat when he sees you at the kitchen counter with your back turned. There’s a faint light from your phone, but he can’t hear any videos playing. He notes how you’re curled in on yourself, one of your arms wrapped around your stomach and the other clutching your phone.

“Y/N?” You visibly flinch when he speaks, and you lift your head. Your face is just barely illuminated by the light of emanating from the screen in front of you. “Baby, what are you doing up?”

You shrug, fingers drumming on the counter as you debate what to say to your lover. He comes up behind you, and you can sense his hand rising to touch your shoulder.

The sound of your phone slamming down on the marble stops him, and he can only freeze when you get off your chair and circle around to the other side of the kitchen, leaning with your back pressed against one of the drawers and your arms dangling limply by your side.

There’s an social media post opened on your screen and a lump begins to grow in his throat.

CHOI SEUNGCHEOL, AKA S.COUPS, OF SEVENTEEN SEEN WITH MYSTERIOUS WOMAN

There’s a video of him, clear as day, leaning down to this woman’s ear and whispering something. His hand is placed on her hip, rubbing circles with his thumb. He pulls back, just far enough to look her in the eye and he has to shut his eyes, knowing what comes next.

“Baby, listen—”

“Don’t call me that,” you’re oddly calm when you speak, almost defeated. “You don’t get to call me that.” Seungcheol purses his lips, turning your phone off and lowering his gaze to the counter.

“I’m sorry.” You can only look at him, the disbelief and anger and sadness in your eyes spearing him to his spot in your apartment.

“That’s it?” You whisper, but to him it’s almost like you screamed it right into his ear. “That’s all you have to say about that?”

“I…” he huffs out a breath, shifting his weight left and right. “I don’t know what you want me to say, Y/N. I really don’t. You saw the post, you’ve probably already decided where you want to go from here—” He doesn’t even see you cross the room. He doesn’t hear your feet softly hitting the ground, he doesn’t hear the soft sobs leaving you. Seungcheol only feels the stinging of your hand against his cheek, the burning of the aftermath.

“You don’t…” he admires that you take a moment to collect yourself before speaking again. “You don’t have a single explanation for what you did? Not even a weak ‘I didn’t know what I was doing’ or- or a ‘I was drunk and thought she was you?’”

You’re pacing, tugging at the strands of your hair and plucking the split ends. You’re not looking at him, and he wishes he could take back everything he’s said tonight.

“Would that help?” His voice is bitter.

“Did she approach you first?” You look at him suddenly, and it’s his turn to look at the ground.

“What?”

“Did she approach you?” You repeated. “Or did you go to her? You always did like someone who made the first move.” Your voice trembles and Seungcheol feels the regret bubbling up, a boiling pot ready to spill over and burn at any given moment. “Was she even worth it? Was she worth ruining what we had?”

“I- no she wasn’t—”

“Then why did you do it, Choi Seungcheol?” You snap. “Why didn’t you just say no? Push her away, tell her you were taken— fuck, Seungcheol, why didn’t you just go home?”

You can’t help but wonder why none of the boys were there to stop him. You wonder where they were when he made the choice to shatter something good. To take everything he had and smash it on the floor, stomping on it and crushing it to dust. Did they know? Did they even care? Why did none of them tell you?

“Do you really think we would’ve lasted anyway?” Seungcheol glares hard at you, the exhaustion from his flight and the will to just end this and move on with or without you pushing to the front of his brain, words spilling from his lips before he could think to stop them. He watches you reel back, watches the fight disappearing from your eyes. It’s so dark in your apartment, so dark that he can hardly see but he can’t help be glad for the lack of light. He can’t bear to see the tears welling in your eyes right now.

“What are you talking about, Seungcheol?” Your voice cracks.

“Our relationship was failing either way,” he spits out. “I’m always gone, and when I’m home you have work. It was bound to happen to one of us at some point. And don’t tell me you haven’t at least thought about it, because you’d be a fucking liar.”

Silence, and then you’re taking a step back, pressing yourself against the cold metal of the refrigerator. Your heart is pounding in your chest, blood roaring in your ears.

“Get out.” Seungcheol blinks at you. His hand wraps around the back of the chair next to him.

“What?”

“Get. The fuck. OUT. GET OUT. GET OUT OF MY FUCKING APARTMENT,” you’re shoving him toward the door, beating on his chest with your fists knowing that you aren’t doing any lasting damage so you grab one of the travel bags he’d set down and throw it at him. He stumbles back, dumfounded and clutching the bag you’d thrown at him. “I gave you EVERYTHING. I stuck with you knowing that NOBDY FUCKING ELSE WOULD HAVE BOTHERED and you just throw it the away for some bitch you met at a club?” He tries to hush you, warning that your neighbors would wake up but you couldn’t care less. He’s pressed against the door now, and he’s almost afraid of what you’ll do and what you’ll say even after he leaves.

“You need to calm down,” his voice is trembling now. Not from fear. No, this is anguish. It has finally hit him that he’s losing you. That there is no coming back from this.

“Don’t fucking tell me to calm down, Choi Seungcheol.” You spit out. “I hope she was worth throwing six years down the fucking drain.” You rip your door open, shoving him and the rest of your bags out. “Happy fucking anniversary.”

Seungcheol feels his stomach drop, his heart falling with it when the door slams in his face and the lock clicks into place. He feels almost numb, confused, and almost…almost relieved that you didn’t decide to just kill him where he stood.

His body slumps forward, his forward resting against your door while he gathers his thoughts.

You were right. You had given him everything, gave him your all through the entire relationship. You’d supported him and loved him and forgiven him for everything he’d done.

Except this. He’d done absolutely unforgivable. He couldn’t turn to anyone for this, knowing they’d never forgive him. The members themselves already won’t speak to them, and when they do it’s business only. He wonders which member would have told you if you hadn’t found out on your own.

Was she worth it?

He truthfully doesn’t know the answer to that. He’d been so cruel to you rather than accepting that he was wrong. So, so very wrong for everything he’d said and done.

He should’ve gone home, called it a night and told the members to either catch a ride with him or find their own way home. He should’ve pushed that woman away the moment she’d touched his arm. The moment she leaned up to ask him to dance with her. He should’ve said no the moment he saw her, but he didn’t. He’d betrayed you, betrayed your trust, betrayed everything the two of you built together and there was no getting it back. Not this time.

It’s cold, and dark, and lonely while he walks down the hallway. It had been a long time since he’d felt this alone, since he’d truly given up.

It’s cold, and dark, and lonely, and it’s all his fault when the rain pours down and doesn’t stop.

Taglist: @captain-brie (i tagged this one bc i didn’t know which you wanted me to tag 😭😭)

#itsbeeble #itsbeeble masterlist #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop x reader #kpop angst #kpop fluff #kpop smut #seventeen #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen angst #seventeen smut #seventeen fluff #choi seungcheol #seungcheol imagines #scoups #scoups x reader

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chrollohearttags · 11 months

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doordasher!eren seeing you have a bad day and trying to make it better because surprisingly, he isn’t an asshole all the time 🥹😭

content warning: mentions of PMS, depression and a little sadness. He’s a sweetie pie in this.

══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞══✿══✿══╡°˖✧✿✧˖°╞═

he had been running deliveries all night. Back and forth between various restaurants, dropping off orders to all the customers who had requested all types of things. From five Mexican pizzas for a bunch of college kids to happy meals for a couple of fussy little ones, needless to say he was busy and was being kept on his toes. However, he couldn’t help but think about his favorite patron..

it had been a few days since he’d seen (y/n) appear on his radar and he found it quite strange. Even though the two of you constantly bickered, mainly because of his slick ass mouth, he had developed quite the soft spot for you. Oftentimes worrying and thinking about you off the clock as well. And tonight, he couldn’t help but get you off of his mind. Driving around aimlessly, awaiting his next job when he decided to pull into a gas station for some smacks of his own. It was as he was scraping up to the counter in his sweats and slides, placing a Peach Faygo and plain Lays on the glass top when he got a notification on his Apple Watch, which he was using to pay with. ‘You just received a new order from (y/n)!’ But he was a little surprised to see it differentiated from your usual. It was from Walmart..tissues, chips, ice cream, and some Tylenol. However, before he could accept, he’d seen that you canceled. Which caught him off guard. What could that have been about? He’d thank the clerk and then dart back to his car where he’d do a little digging. His initial thought was that you possibly could have been on your period and didn’t want some man picking up your personal items but he’d retrieved far worse than some Maxi Pads and Mydol during his tenure here. He knew that you and Connie, another fellow dasher and one of his best friends were pretty cool so he’d hit him up, wondering had he heard from you. He was very much aware of you guys’ little ongoing rivalry, having known each other for about six months now so you weren’t exactly strangers anymore; had even hung out and smoked with them all and as funny as he thought it was, he had some advice for Eren..

“Ion know, bruh. I wouldn’t bother her right now. She’s been having a rough couple days so she’s been actin a lil’ different. I tried to check in on her but she don’t wanna talk. Imma just give her some space.”

but that wasn’t his style! Annoying as he was, he was an even bigger softie. If someone he knew or cared about wasn’t doing well, he’d do whatever he could to make sure they were feeling better by the time he was done. Despite Connie’s advice, he’d crank back up and peel out of the parking lot, headed to the superstore to pick up your requested items…and a few other things! Meanwhile, you were sitting in your two bedroom apartment..glaring out of the window with a rather gloom expression on your face. Watching the light rain fall underneath faint glow of the street lights as you worked tirelessly at your computer. Feeling a bit jaded and ready to clock out. Truth was, it was a gnawing feeling you had been experiencing for days. Stuck in sort of a rut and without direction. Everything was beginning to feel a bit mundane. Living alone in this apartment with hardly any visitors, you were left only with your work and lonely thoughts to get you by. Even tonight, you didn’t feel like eating much; cancelling your order before you’d waste someone’s time or that brunette nuisance could show up at your door, ready to be a pain.

if you were being completely honest, even arguing with him didn’t feel so bad right about now. Anything not to feel so isolated.. little did you know, he was already ten steps ahead and en route; hoping to bring that frown to a giant smile. Scouring the aisles of Walmart, searching for anything he’d hope you like. Ice cream, tissues, chips..all as you had requested. But he needed more. Something to truly lift your spirits up.. “What do girls like when they’re sad? Teddy bears? Candy? Liquor?..hell if I know.” Muttering to himself, even with passing patrons glaring at him as if he were crazy. But he was actually talking into his AirPods, trying to consult his friends who were on a FaceTime call with him. They couldn’t help but laugh at how he was going to all these extra lengths just to see a customer smile. Even taking the expense from his own pocket. After a little more intel from Connie, he had learned how stressed you had been with your new role. A promotion that came with nothing more than a larger workload and a slightly bigger pay raise. Which truly wasn’t worth it by the time you factored in emotional and manual labor. So this was definitely what you needed. “Ion know but I think somebody got a lil’ crush on my homegirl.” Connie blurting out to make the others burst into laughter, teasing him relentlessly. Just the sheer mention making his cheeks glow red. “Aye, it ain’t even like that. She’s just really cool. That’s all..don’t want her being depressed and by herself if I can help it.” He truly was something. Nonetheless, he’d continue filling his basket with all types of things until he was sure he had built the ultimate care package.

* . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵ ∵°•|☆•° .* * . °•★|•°∵

by that time, the rain began to pick up and get a little heavier, thus sending your power surging and your system offline for a little bit. “What the—?! Damnit! Now I gotta tell these bitches my internet is out..” understandably frustrated, you’d click around the screen and just release a huff, knowing there was nothing you could do at the moment except wait for things to boot back up. It was yet another headache you had to deal with explaining. But it did provide you with a bit of a break to get away from that draining screen. You’d get up from your chair, stretching your back and legs, preparing to head downstairs when you heard your doorbell ring. You weren’t expecting any company so that was quite odd! Could it have been some dumb kid playing a prank? Perhaps, a wrong door? Exercising caution, you’d make your way to the bottom step, leading into the living room where you’d reach the front door. Using the peephole, you’d look around and that’s when you’d spot a bag on the doorstep, up underneath the canopy covering…and an oddly familiar vehicle sitting out in the middle of the parking lot!..lights on, engine running and shrouded by rain. Carefully opening up the door, you’d take a peak around before procuring the items. Before you could even see what it was, the vehicle and its driver were peeling away. But what was inside was enough to bring you to tears and make this hellscape of a week feel all the more worth it.

in a giant gift bag was candy, two small roses, a tiny pink teddy bear, Moose Tracks ice cream, bags of chips, a soft plush blanket and lastly, a card that read “get well soon.” You didn’t know why or how he knew you were feeling down but once that door closed, tears began to stream down your face. Overcome with sheer emotion that someone thought enough of you to try and brighten your day!..even if it was the last person you’d expect. “Eren, I have no idea what to think of you. You’re something else, you know that?” Muttering to yourself as you wiped your face. Just as you went to go turn and head to the kitchen to place your things in the fridge, your phone would illuminate with a text, reading:

“Feel better soon, okay? I don’t like knowing you’re sad. I hope these help. Besides, who else is going to make my shifts fun?” -your favorite dasher. ❤️

needless to say, he had earned himself all five of his stars and then some.

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everythingseasoning · 5 months

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We’ve Met Before, pt 1

// Reader x Choso fanfiction

…Little do you know that you and Choso were lovers in a past life.

CH. 1 SUMMARY …Little do you know that you and Choso were lovers in a past life. When you meet Choso, at a college party of all places, you can’t help but feel enamored. Unfortunately, murders and missing person cases have also been popping up around your college campus, disrupting the lifestyle of all those at Jujutsu University— and the latest case has been brewing closer than you’d think. Your lying, cheating ex Sukuna, is also running around freely and trying to prevent any semblance of finding love in your life.

Tags: This fic has CURSES and SORCERERS, but the characters are also students at JUJUTSU UNIVERSITY // ~1.7k

Warnings: Cheating ex, blood & canon violence, emotionally abusive ex, borderline NSFW but not with reader

We’ve Met Before Masterlist || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 ||

‘he seems so lonely’

Nobara drags you closer towards the Frat house’s entrance as the soles of your shoes scuff against the ground from your resistance. You feel heat on your feet, the friction of rubber and cement underneath you. You swat at Nobara’s hand— ceasing your actions immediately as your friend’s sharp brown eyes meet yours in a stern glare.

“Come on you loser, have fun for once!” Nobara cranks.

“This isn’t fun for me, Noba,” you say, your tone low and loose. The sadness you’d been feeling all day hadn’t gone away, and you doubted that a party would do the trick. Parties are full of heated but temporary connections, and you would rather stay in your single dorm room and wallow sadly, instead of awkwardly wander ‘round a noisy frat party.

“You’re such a wet blanket. Drop the attitude and just maybe tonight you’ll find somebody who treats you right!”

Your depressive state is overtaken by irritation. “Seriously? There won’t be a decent guy at a fucking frat party. In fact—” You scowl at Nobara, “It’s just the kind of place Sukuna would be at, did you forget?”

Nobara’s gaze softens a little upon seeing involuntary tears spring up in your eyes. Your friend speaks, her voice a level nicer, “I managed to reach Yuji a few hours ago, over the phone, and he said Sukuna would be gone this weekend, for the football team’s away game.”

Relief melts into your body like smooth, sweet chocolate on the tongue. “Thank god,” you whispered, memories of your awful ex spinning violently in your mind… 

One week ago:

“Sukuna?” You called out, stepping into the men’s bathroom of Jujutsu East’s dormitory wing. Your voice was completely inaudible though, the booming music obscuring any trace your existence— and that’s when you heard it, underneath the muffling chorus:

Moaning. A guy’s moan. A rich, low, seductive voice cursed, “Fuck, doll-face, you’re sucking me off so well, hmm?”

You knew that lilting, rumbling voice anywhere.

You froze, stiffening in shock and denial. You listened: A rustle of curtains, the metal rings clinking. —A thud, a body pushed against a wall. A wet noise, followed by slapping noises.

“Mm, ahh, ooh fuck, Sukuna!”

“Doll-face—ugh—Shut up. Can’t have nobody hear us, you dumb slut.”

You felt your legs turn into jelly, but you stood still, unable to move. Musical groans played in the air around you. Just yesterday, you’d been the one to pull those sweet melodies from him.

—

Sure, you knew from early on in your relationship that Sukuna wasn’t the one for marriage. But before Sukuna you’d been isolated, stuck in an abusive relationship of six years. When you’d met Sukuna, you were exhausted from your miserable ex Charlie, who just tolerated you.

In Charlie’s eyes, you couldn’t do anything right�� that was the message you gleaned from every sigh and every complaint Charlie had for you. With every meal you cooked, with every conversation you two had, and with every gift you brought him, you disappointed him, daily. Throughout the years with Charlie, you reasoned that he was just a sad person who expected you to fix all his misery, and you felt pity for him. So you tried to help him, fix his mindset, and show him love. You desperately wanted him to be happy. But after six long years, you couldn’t do it any longer— because nothing was ever enough, and you couldn’t keep up with all his criticisms and tantrums— you didn’t make him happy, and you didn’t make him proud. You were a useless loser in his eyes.

—

You felt yourself flinch in the memory, doom crawling on your skin from how badly six years with him had fucked you up.

After that relationship had ended, you needed to feel wanted again. You needed the warmth of somebody’s skin and touch, the soft praise of somebody kind.

And Sukuna didn’t seem that bad at first— he had actually been so good. He answered your calls every night and listened to you rant about your day; he asked about your hobbies, let you pick out movies to watch together every week, bought you baked goods just because, and he picked you up whenever you wanted to hang out.

But it was like he had two sides to him. There was one that was encouraging when you felt low and insecure, the guy who held you tightly against his large, sturdy chest, whispering promises that he’d “make all the pain go away.” The Sukuna who told you that you were strong and brave to get out of your past shitfire of a relationship… And then there was the Sukuna that eyeballed other girls when you were with him, the Sukuna whose reputation preceded him (“he’s a player, __, get out while you can”), the Sukuna who was now dick-deep in another girl. Turns out, he was also a misfire of a relationship. A liar.

—

A long groan echoed through the marble walls of the men’s bathroom, and the slapping noises were no more.

“Alright, get out of here, I’ve got to get ready for the date with my main bitch tonight.”

You heard a huff before the whish of the curtain sounded, and that’s when you bolted.

Sukuna had blown up your phone for days after, but you’d avoided him like the plague for the past week. He stopped texting just after a couple of days, which really showed you how little you’d meant to him. Still, you couldn’t bear the thought of him seeing you, even in passing.

—

“Hey, girl, you alright?” Nobara’s voice is suddenly loud, and you come back to the moment, seeing her wave her hands in front of your face. You swallow thickly, before blinking. Fat tears are let loose and run down your face.

“No. I wanna go back to the dorms,” you croak out. Nobara stares at you for a couple of seconds before her gaze hardens.

“No. If I let you do that, you’ll just sulk all night. I won’t let that happen.”

You glare at Nobara. “Look, I know you’re just trying to help, but—”

Before you can finish your sentence, Nobara tugs you through the open door, and you fall forward, bumping into somebody—

“Hey-” you hear a raspy, low voice.

When you look up, dark brown eyes mesmerize you. A pale skinned guy is looking down at you with a confused expression, two ponytails poking out from his head cutely. Most strikingly, he has some rough eyebags, and purple lines run down and across his face. Tattoos? you wonder as you drink in his face. Something is different, though, about this interaction— your heart seems to beat a bit too quickly, because something about him seems way too familiar. Is it his eyes? You’re staring into them, pools of smooth darkness that murmur quietly, simmering with secrets you want to listen to; He seems so lonely— You swear, you’ve seen these eyes before—

You stand completely still, enamored, as your eyes dart across his face, absorbing the face of this mysterious stranger.

You feel like the other half of your heart is standing right in front of you.

A couple of seconds have passed when you realize that he’s been studying you right back.

You snap out of your trance, blinking quickly and looking away, Whoa. That was weird. I’ve never taken in somebody’s face like this before—! Wait, he was curious about me, too, right—? Your heart flutters at the thought.

“Wow, you guys really need to fuck each other tonight,” You hear Nobara say, and you whip to face her, wide-eyed in horror, just to see your friend smirking at you, a mischevious look on her face.

“Noba, shut the hell up, oh my god,” you gasp, and Nobara runs away, leaving you alone with the mysterious stranger. You watch her leave and squirm internally, anxious, before turning to look back at the guy. “I’m sorry for staring! I’m __. I just, erm, you just— do you— do I know you?”

He’s staring at you, in disbelief, almost like he’s looking at the fountain of youth. You both continue to stare at each other, and though it should be an awkward moment, you feel like you can feel what he’s feeling, like you know what he’s thinking: Who are you? What are you to me?

His voice comes back deep and melodic, “I’m Choso. Choso Kamo. I don’t remember us meeting before. But–”

A shrill scream pierces the air before Choso can get another word out. You whip your head to the origin of the noise, and see a girl bloody on the floor, torn limbs by her side, two arms laying next to her. Your eyes blow wide in shock: she’s facing the ceiling, screaming her head off, and people are already rushing past you, running towards the exit.

It hits you like a truck, pure terror pulsing through your entire being— This is one of those crimes that have been happening lately, where people have been having their limbs torn off mysteriously. The girl continues her blood curdling screams as you stare in horror, your head spinning. Your heart is racing a mile a minute and yet you just— can’t— move— No, no, no, no —

You notice now that Choso is gone too, probably out the door and halfway down the lawn at this point. So much for love at first sight. Blood rushes through your ears, muffling out your surroundings, and your skin runs cold, the vicious sight before you keeping you frozen. The world feels like it's been flipped upside down. You were never one to stomach violence.

Is this where I die? You think.

Before you can do anything to get yourself to safety, you’ve blacked out.

–

✧꧂ Please comment ur thoughts/feelings!! I’m curious + that encourages me to keep writing this fic! ♡

Do not plagiarize my writing. Characters are of Gege Akutami’s work, Jujutsu Kaisen. All fanfiction ideas and writings are my own.

➜ M’s Jujutsu Kaisen Masterlist

➜ Chapter 2

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rogersideup · 29 days

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｡°✩ ♊︎ The Gemini♊︎ ✩ °｡

Chapter 8

Twinkles

Series Masterlist

Previous part: Little Birdie Next Part: True Romantic

Word Count: 7,072

Warnings: My blog is 18+ only. All minors or blogs without an age in bio will be blocked. Minors DNI.

A week and a handful of days was exactly how long you actually made it into your two weeks before you found yourself with a mind just as hectic and busy as it was the day you left the compound. But the only difference now was that it was you and your thoughts back on an empty road on the way back to the compound.

You figured that processing your feelings and settling back in at home might've been good for you. Maybe being back in the environment that caused all of the physical and mental injury would help move the healing along faster, help you make amends and tie up all the loose ends you needed in order to really solidify your place in such an environment.

Plus, you still wanted to talk to Bucky again. You needed to bury the fight for good. And Steve... lord knows you still have a lot to figure out between the two of you... and Bucky. Okay... there was still a lot of figure out with the three of you.

The road was so dark and almost lonely with the lack of traffic happening at 10pm on a weeknight. For some reason, not even your playlist or the almost freezing temperatures outside competing with your car heater was distracting your brain from the only thought it could conjure up, which was to call Steve.

You didn't know why you wanted to talk to him, or even what to say, but your fingers even pulled up his contact on your car's display just in case.

It was already late, and you had no reason, but you couldn't stop thinking about him. Wondering if he was already asleep, you took the leap of faith and pressed call.

Your intuition was right, because before you could even press call, Steve's name popped up on the little screen and your car informed you that he had called you first.

"Hello?" You spoke, eyes glued to the open road.

"Hey, Bug." He spoke back, voice deep and raspy as if he was half asleep. "What are you up to?"

"Funny you should ask, I was literally just about to call you but you beat me to it." You told him with a smile, well aware he couldn't see it.

"Oh really? What's wrong?"

"Nothing! I don't know why I wanted to call you, but my brain was telling me I should." You explained. However, you could recognize now with the sound of his voice that there was something going on with him. He sounded sad, or maybe frustrated and definitely tired. "What's going on with you?"

"Funny you should ask" A very fake and lazy chuckle sounded. "I'm miserable at the moment, can you tell?"

"Just a little." You lied. He definitely sounded miserable. "What happened, Stevie?"

"The stupid heater in my apartment isn't working and it can't get fixed until tomorrow." Steve started. "I'm exhausted, but no matter what I do I can't fall asleep because I'm so fucking cold. I was going to ask Bucky if I could sleep at his place tonight but I saw Nat's location was in his apartment so that flew out the window."

It took a slight moment to figure out why Steve was complaining about the temperature when he was usually the kind've guy that could put up with anything. But when it clicked, you felt a billion times worse for him.

You remembered a few times Steve has confessed to you that he can't stand the feeling of being cold.. 66 years of being stuck in ice will do that to a person.

Though he had no memory of all of those long years, his brain seemed to hold onto what he felt during the first few moments of the plane he crashed straight into the arctic.

So every time Steve found himself alone in the cold, he swore he could feel his skin sting. His heart would race no matter how hard he tried to get it to slow down, it felt like the floor would start dropping below his feet, and the entire time he was waiting for pain that never came. The longer he stayed cold, the worse it would spiral.

Your eyes darted to the time displayed in your car, 10:54 pm. Then they read the outside temperature, 36 degrees Fahrenheit.

"That sounds awful, I'm sorry" You pouted. "You have my key, why don't you sleep at my place?"

There was a deep sigh through the phone line, and a few moments of silence as he contemplated what to say next. "It's okay. I'm actually not even too sure why I called you, I think I'm just trying to calm myself down."

Your pout deepened and your heart cracked. "Steve"

"Hmm?"

"Go sleep in my bed." You commanded.

"It's fine, Bug. I just wanted to talk to you. Why does it sound so... rumbly?" Steve tried to change the subject.

"Oh, because I'm driving right now." You explained. "Im using my phone's Bluetooth to turn on the heater in my apartment for you so it'll be nice and toasty when you get there."

"It's so late, why are you driving?" He asked.

"I'm actually on my way home right now." You explained keeping it vague, he didn't know which home you were referring to. "Is 73 degrees okay?"

"Bug, I can't." Steve denied, sounding remorseful.

"You can't what?"

"I can't just accept your kindness like this."

If you didn't know him so well, you almost wouldn't be able to know just from the sound of his voice that he was on the verge of tears. But i in this case, you probably knew him better that he would've liked. "Like what, Steve?"

"I still feel so bad that I hurt you." Steve explained, practically in a whisper. He was thankful you couldn't see the way his hands were shaking or the way he had to breathe through his mouth because of how fast his heart was pounding from the sheer amount of anxiety coursing through his nerves. "I can't just go seek comfort from you and invade your space after what I did. That's not fair."

Now, you felt like crying too. "We already talked about this. We can't keep holding onto what happened or it's going to make us both miserable."

"So you're still feeling better about it?"

"Since the last time I saw you? Absolutely." You reassured him. "What can I do to help you feel better right now?"

"This is more than enough." The statement was filled with the most confidence you've heard since answering the phone.

You knew he was seeking any sort of validation that you didn't absolutely hate him, so you tried your hardest to butter him up with some truthful vulnerability "I miss you"

"I miss you too." He agreed, letting his eyes fall shut. "Any chance I can see you again soon?"

You smiled, but he didn't have to know that. He also didn't have to know that you had a 35 minute ETA back to the compound. "I'm busy tomorrow, but how about Saturday?"

"Saturday works great." He declared, still miserable but he tried to be enthusiastic. "You're coming back to the compound on Saturday?"

"Yep, I'll be there." Again, not a lie. "What do you want to do on Saturday?"

"Sleep? Take a nap? Watch a movie? Take a nap while we watch movies?"

You laughed at his suggestions. "That sounds great. And what are you going to do right now?"

"Hopefully sleep and take a nap and sleep some more."

"Think some warm thoughts?"

"I wish I was a marshmallow on a stick." He mumbled.

"Love you lots, go sleep in my room."

"Love you more, no." Steve denied again. "I'll let you go now. I think I'm starting to feel a bit better."

"You think or you know?"

"I'll only know once I hang up."

"Well if you don't know, just call me back, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you for talking to me, drive safe." He didn't want to hang up, but he also didn't want you to think he was being clingy or dramatic so he decided to cut the conversation short. "Will you let me know when you get home?"

"Sure thing. Think about the marshmallow!"

A very small smile tugged at his lips. "Goodnight, Buggy."

"Sweet dreams, Stevie."

The phone-line ended and your music started again. Much like before, the road was still lonely, and you were still unable to get your mind off of Steve. Maybe even more so now than before the phone call. But there was nothing much you could even do for him from the middle of the highway, so you sang along to your playlist that was playing a bit too loud, and tried your best to ignore the uncomfortable sting settling in your lungs as anxiety took over the closer you got to the compound.

That anxiety only worsened as you pulled up, and parked in your reserved spot. You flung your bags over your shoulder and walked through the lobby to get to the elevator and up to your apartment.

The luxurious smell of the building, the sounds of the automated doors and buttons, mostly everyone walking around in their designated uniform, and all the familiar faces reminded you of the really dark place your mind forced you to live in for the long weeks before you left.

Your apartment was no help either. Dragging your feet through the living-room and into the bedroom made memories of all the hours you were stuck in bed flood back so fast you felt physically nauseated. The tossed around blankets over your couch and your bed left unmade was nothing but evidence of how fast you left the compound in the first place. As if you set out on an emergency mission to save yourself.

Luckily you had a perfect excuse to not linger for too long on your own, so you dropped your bags in the corner of your room before making your bed and let your legs carry you over to Steve's place.

After making your way all the way there, and taking a big deep breath to brace yourself for whatever was about to happen, you slid his key that you never gave back to him into his door.

Then, a voice appeared practically out of thin air. "Oh wow, never thought I'd live to see the day Rogers has a girl sneaking in" Tony commented as he walked right past you in the hallway.

"This is definitely not what it looks like." You denied Tony's remark with a shake of your head, but he didn't stick around long enough to even explain yourself.

You stuck to rolling your eyes as you entered his place. It was odd being in his apartment after so much time away, but it was exactly how it always was. Immaculately clean, decorated well, and it smelled subtly like his cologne that you loved so much.

Though you wanted to stop for a moment to reflect, it did little to keep you from walking straight to his bedroom door and opening it slowly as to not scare him.

The first thing you noticed was that his TV was on and playing a movie you didn't recognize, but it provided enough light for you to see the lump hiding beneath the covers. How you still felt the overwhelming sense of comfort you always did when you'd sneak into his bed during the sad and lonely nights. Then, you realized how cold it actually was in his apartment. The longer you were there, the more the chill in the air seeped through your clothes and raised bumps on your skin.

You couldn't tell if he was sleeping or not, but you walked towards him slowly regardless. Then, the blankets tugged around him tighter. The smile on your face spread when you realized he was awake and hiding from what he assumed was Bucky.

"Not in the mood, Punk." Steve mumbled.

A giggle escaped you as you sat on his bed. "Rude"

You watched as his head poked out just for a moment. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion before he let out a little sound of complaint, and pulled the blanket back over his head.

"Hey! Where did you go?" You questioned, smile stretching wider.

He mumbled out a statement you could barely understand, but you did catch the end. "....... liar."

"What did you call me?!" You questioned, faking offense.

There was no response other than a little laugh so quiet you almost missed it, so your hands weren't shy to grab onto the lump of muscles and anxiety covered in a pile of blankets and shake him around playfully. "What did you call me?!?!" You asked again with a giggle.

This time, he poked out just the top of his head and his stupidly beautiful big blue eyes. It was painfully obvious that he was hiding a smile despite his misery. "I called you a big fat liar" he sassed.

"I told you I was on my way home." You defended yourself with a performative gasp and your right palm straight over your heart. "I never lied!"

"I thought you were Bucky!" Steve continued, still hiding most of his face. He was thankful that the hoodie pulled over his head helped hide his messy hair.

"It's pronounced Buggy" you smiled.

"What are you doing back here so soon?"

"Stop asking so many questions, I'm here to rescue you." You enthused, but it earned another groan and the blanket back over his head. "Wow, you're really going to make my first mission back a difficult one huh?"

More gibberish grumbles sounded from underneath the blanket pile. Even if you asked him to clarify the meaning of his babbles, you knew he was still going to be unwilling to cooperate.

"Fine, you leave me no choice." You huffed while standing up from your spot and kicking your shoes off. Then, you grabbed hold of what you assumed was his shoulder and his waist, then pushed with all your might to roll him over from his back and onto his side.

Laughter he was trying his hardest to contain slipped past his lips when he heard your sounds of struggle. "I'm offended that you're huffing and puffing up there."

"Oh, so now you're speaking crystal clear?" You noted, taking in a deep breath after moving the dead weight of a super soldier. "Sorry for the huffing and puffing, didn't realize you were made of pure muscle and uranium. If I did, I would've warmed up a bit first."

"Uranium?" Steve questioned still sounding miserable, still hiding from you.

"The heaviest element on earth" you clarified, lifting the corner of the blanket pile on top of him before sliding into his bed. "It's a compliment on your big strong muscles, Stevie, don't get it twisted."

"What are you doing?!" His head lifted in confusion as you got into bed with him, under the safety of his blanket fort, and started curling yourself behind him.

The front of your body was against his back, your legs tucked behind his, and your arm wrapped around his waist to hold him nice and snug before you put your chin to his shoulder and propping yourself up a bit so you could see his face. "Providing you with the love and warmth you need to feel better, isn't that obvious?"

His big blue eyes opened to look up at you for just a moment, and when they met your gaze his stomach filled with butterflies and an undeniable blush warmed his cheeks. Then, his pretty eyes gleamed with that familiar twinkle that made the corners of your lips tug upwards.

You were so much braver than he was, because before the big blow out between the two of you, a friendly snuggle here and there was no big deal. But now that you knew the extent of his admiration for you, he didn't know if he would ever find the courage to touch you again. It was too high stakes, and way too nerve wracking for him to risk. Because if he tried his hand at you and fumbled his chance, he'd never forgive himself.

You found that hesitance to be obvious, but sweet and endearing. Much like you found his reactions to your actions to be even sweeter and more endearing.

The 6'4, 250 pound weapon of a man was nothing but putty in your hands now, and that did a number to your capacity to fight off your own repressed feelings for him. If he was putty, then you were melting like a snowman on a summer vacation. Neither of you stood a chance against each other, both of you were letting your walls fall not only down, but also apart.

Steve squeezed his eyes shut so hard that his whole face scrunched up, and let his head hit the pillow once more. "Why am I the little spoon?"

"Because I know you well, Stevenson" Your smile widened.

"What is that supposed to mean?!"

"You have the most obvious little spoon energy of any person I've ever met before." You explained. "That's not a bad thing, it's just a fact. Are you not loving this?"

"That's a trick question" He huffed in complaint before nestling closer to you. "You're so warm."

"See? That'll make you feel better soon. And now you don't have to be alone, so we can take some nice deep breaths until our anxiety floats away... but of course if you hate this too much I can just leave..."

There it was. The biggest relief to Steve's mind and heart... your sassy and sarcastic spunk was starting to shine back through you. Though he still felt like pieces of yourself were lost, the smallest pieces of you were a victory to him. If he was just a little less anxious, he'd find it within himself to bounce off of your sarcasm, but right now he just needed his mind to be less busy.

Steve shook his head shyly. "I really don't hate this."

"See? So just relax." You reminded him as you settled in and let yourself fully lay down behind him. "You're so tense."

"I can never get myself to relax when I'm cold." He explained to you. "It feels like I'm waiting for something that never happens."

You could read between the lines of his words. He was waiting for a plane crash, a physical feeling of pain that he associated with being so cold.

"Nothing is going to hurt you, Stevie." You reminded him gently. Of course he knew that, but sometimes anxiety lies to brain if its victim. Sometimes a small reminder is all you need.

"I know." He agreed with a small nod, trying to get his hands to stop trembling.

"You know it's 42 degrees in here? I read the thermostat on my way in."

"Feels like it" Steve complained.

"My place is a toasty 73."

"That's lovely." He mumbled. "M'happy for you."

"You're so stubborn." You huffed, shoving your face between his shoulder and neck and placing your hand over his heart.

Steve gasped in fake offense. "Don't go searching for my heart rate! That's personal!"

"It's going pretty fast there, Bestie." You smiled, feeling it thunk against your hand before removing it from his chest and sliding it up to his shoulder so you could squeeze him just a little tighter.

"You're not helping, Bud" He admitted, trying his hardest to contain his feelings for you from oozing out through the very loose seams of his heart. The way you were squeezing his body against yours with such a lovely and gentle pressure was not helping it stay in place.

"It's pronounced Bug." You joked again. "It's obvious to me that you're still harboring a lot of guilt and that's half the reason for your anxiety right now, so we're going to stay like this until we talk it through and your hard head softened up enough to realize that I love you, and it makes me sad that you're not feeling great right now."

Steve audibly whimpered and shoved his face into his pillow, hiding away once again. "I just feel bad."

"We've already been over this. All is well."For a few moments, you had a new found sense of guilt. It felt like you had gone way too far in punishing him when it felt as though he was already punishing himself far more than he deserved. "Misunderstandings happen, arguments happen, fights happen, but it's just how the world works and it's a testament to how much we really care about each other. If we didn't care to have each other in our lives then there would be nothing to fight for, right?"

Still in hiding, Steve gently nodded his head.

"I've known you for how long?" You asked.

"Nine months" his muffled voice responded from somewhere between his face and the pillow.

You smiled. "How many days a week have I seen you in those 9 months?"

"Almost everyday, except for the last few weeks" He pouted.

"That's 279 days we've spent together and after every single one of those days, good or bad, I've still chosen to see you, or talk to you, or even think about you. And all of that, all of this has led us to right here, right now. You know why?"

Another grumpy grumble only fueled your fire to complete your mission of soothing the anxious soldier. "Hmm?"

"Because love is unconditional." You stated confidently. "And I can't let anyone I love be somewhere that's making them miserable. That's why you let me go, right? You gave me a chance to leave the compound."

Again, Steve nodded.

"And that's why I can't let you stay here tonight." Your hand squeezed the top of his shoulder. "...are you convinced yet?"

Suddenly, his head popped up "I like hearing you talk so I'm just listening while talking to work up the courage to get out of bed."

Your giggle sounded like heaven so close to his ear as you propped yourself up behind him again. "I had two more tricks up my sleeve, do you want to hear them or are we all good here?"

"I want to hear them"

"Okay the first one was that I was going to use our rooms as metaphors. We could stay here together and be uncomfortable and cold, or we could be cozy together in my warm fuzzy bed but we have to choose to move on."

"So deep and philosophical" Steve grinned. "The second one?"

"Oh the second one is cheap bait. I was going to tell you I have a family size bag of m&m's on my kitchen counter."

"Is that the truth?" He raised an eyebrow, looking back at your face to search for a bluff.

"The whole truth, and nothing but the truth." You confirmed.

"What kind of m&m's?"

One word to seal the deal, you knew it would get him up out of bed and straight into your apartment. "Mini"

"Get off of me, I have important business to attend." Steve joked with a very gentle sense of urgency, shrugging you off of his back.

You let him go and felt a sense of pride when the big beefy soldier got out of bed to follow you.

"Emergency mission?"

"Very important" he agreed, trying not to wince as the cold hair hit his skin again.

"Then put some pep in your step Rogers, we've got a mission to accomplish!"

He giggled and followed you through his room, into the living room and nearly out the front door before he passed a mirror and stole a glance at himself.

Strands of wild blonde hair were sticking out of the front of his hoodie pulled over his head. Socks on his feet, sweatpants, and the very obvious sleep deprivation causing redness under his eyes was not his best look.

"Oh wow, hope the hallways are clear because I'm going to scare people if they see me like this" Steve laughed at his reflection, getting his slippers on his feet.

"Maybe people will start treating you like you're human if they see you in something a little less business casual." You smiled, feeling happy that you got to see the usually put together soldier in such a state.

"I'm accepting it for what it is, because there's no amount of brushing or product in this world that would be able to fix my hair right now." He shrugged, following you out of the door and into the hallways.

"It's cute, you can pull it off."

No longer being able to hide his blushing cheeks from you, he bowed his head to the floor and trailed behind you all the way up to your apartment. His eyes stayed glued to the floor even as you unlocked your front door, he took that moment to fill his lungs with a big breath of air to try and snap out of the anxious daze he was in.

But as the door swung open, a big wave of warm air washed over his body and you took a step aside to let him in first. Only when he stepped into your warm living room did he feel like he could actually breathe again.

The floor felt a little more stable, his legs a little more steady, and the world seemed to have stopped its crashing and burning.

As you locked the front door and kicked off the shoes, Steve looked at your couch and suddenly felt a whole new wave of anxiety over the memories replaying in his head of that very night everything changed all because he sat in that one spot on your couch.

Then he thought of the last time he was here, the anxiety and gut wrenching guilt he felt as he trudged up to your apartment after nobody had seen you for a while, the way his heart dropped into his stomach when he found you asleep in your be-

"Stop thinking." Both your hands reached up and squeezed his shoulders from behind him. "Go to bed."

Immediately snapping out of it, he chuckled at the way you knew him so well before dragging his feet into your room, kicking off his slippers, and burrowing himself underneath your blankets this time.

You walked in a few moments later, bag of m&ms in hand, and a content grin on your face and warmth in your heart at the sight of Steve in your bed. He was already lying on his stomach with his arm above his head, and his head tucked into the ditch of his elbow.

After placing the bag of chocolate on the nightstand, you pulled the blankets over his back and sat next to him.

"Nice and warm?" You asked him, left hand rubbing small circles over his shoulder blade.

"like a marshmallow on a stick" his sleepy voice sounded.

"Cozy?"

"Mhm" Steve nodded.

"Like a bug in a rug!" You enthused, earning his laughter. "I'm happy you're here, Stevie."

"I'm happy that you're here." He turned his head to look at you, big blue eyes twinkling just for you. "A big part of me thought you'd never come back."

You let out a sigh, not being able to come up with much of a good reason why you came back. "Just felt like I had some unfinished business I had to take care of."

"Does that mean you know what you're going to do?"

You knew he was once again asking about your choice in quitting, staying an agent, or becoming an avenger, but you still couldn't quite get the insecure voice in the back of your heart and forefront of you brain to quiet down yet.

"Yeah, but I'm not going to tell anyone until after it's official so nobody tries to get me to change my mind." Your lips pressed together, contemplation turning your smile into a contemplative grin. "So right now I'm going to take a shower as fast as I can so I can get back to the blondie in my bed, then after that I'll probably lay awake all night wondering if I even know how to make good choices for myself."

"Wow, not even me?" Steve faked offense.

"I didn't even tell my Mom" You reassured him. "But I have a meeting with Fury in the morning to make my decision official so, you'll know tomorrow."

"So we're both going to be lying awake all night?"

You chuckled. "No, because I can tell you're exhausted and I already know you're going to fall asleep the second the second I stop engaging you in conversation."

"You're so mean." He smiled, eyes still wide and twinkling.

"Tell me about it." you agreed. "Are you going to be okay if I go shower really quick?"

"Mhm, I'm a big boy." He nodded.

"Okay big boy, you go to sleep, and I'll be right back" You squeezed his shoulder before getting up.

Steve was quick to let the exhaustion close his heavy eye lids, and he focused on emptying his head of it's constant racing thoughts. He listened to the sound of your drawers opening and closing, then the bathroom door closing behind you.

The sound of the shower turning on and the flowing water helped provide some comfort as he realized he finally felt safe and warm again. A lazy smile unintentionally spread across his face when your music followed, but it was playing so low he could barely hear it. One thing he knew about you was that you had to listen to music through completing any task, and you loved to share that music with everyone around you. But right now, it was quiet in consideration of him, and that was far more touching to him that you'd probably ever assume.

But that was just the effect you had on Steve, every little thing you did was so endearing to him and he just couldn't help himself for falling into you as if you were a trap perfectly designed to capture him.

Thoughts of you consumed his mind now, so much so that he slowly started slipping into a dreamy state, that was until not even two minutes after you had left him the bathroom door had opened again and he heard you walking around your room once more.

Assuming you had forgotten something, he paid it no mind. That was until your footsteps approached him, and he heard your voice whispering.

"Stevie?" Your voice was calm and gentle, and the shower was still running. "You still awake?"

"Yeah" his eyes opened again, and eyebrows furrowed in curiosity.

"Sorry, I just- I was thinking about our phone call earlier" You started before sitting down next to him again. "It's just not fair so I didn't want you to fall asleep before I had a chance to tell you."

"Not fair?" He questioned sleepily, forcefully blinking to keep his heavy eyes open.

Your nervous tight lipped grin told Steve everything he needed to know. Maybe it was just the lighting in your bedroom, or perhaps anxiety and exhaustion making him hallucinate but he swore he caught a slight blush on your cheeks.

"I can't help but to feel like maybe some of the anxiety or negative feelings you still have are because I haven't given you enough reassurance, and I'm sorry." You tried to read his expression as well as he was reading yours, but you picked up nothing but exhaustion and relief. "You know how much I love you, right?"

A small grin took over his lips and he let his eyes close in contentment, feeling a little too tired and comfortable to keep them awake anymore. But he nodded nonetheless.

"You know that your friendship and support has been a pivotal part of my career and personal growth, and I'll be loyal to you no matter what we go through?"

"I do now" he nodded again.

"Remember how I said we can explore the cute little twinkles in your eyes when things settle?" You started. "You know that's not just because I'm comfortable with it, but because I like you too, right?"

His eyes snapped open and eyebrows furrowed as if you had just set off a bomb in the bed he was sleeping in. "No, that was not made clear."

Steve swore his cheeks got so hot he could feel his heartbeat pulsing through the skin.

"Okay, well now it was!" You said with a calm and enthusiastic attitude that he could never even dream of achieving if a confession like that just rolled off his own tongue. "Glad we had this talk, I'm going to go take a shower now."

He was in pure disbelief as you stood up and walked away. "No insight on that? No further explanation?"

"You're really tired, don't want to bore you with the details." You shrugged with a playful giggle.

"I'm never going to sleep again" He said louder as you got further away.

"I don't believe you! Besides, the shower is running and I don't want to waste water." You pointed out. "I'll be right back!"

The bathroom door closed behind you, locked, then your faced scrunched up as your silently screamed and danced like a teenage girl. That locked door also gave Steve the space he needed to whimper into his elbow and mourn the person be was before his knowledge of your feelings.

You had simultaneously killed the man he once was, and birthed a new version of him. One whose thoughts were far more insufferable than the last, with approximately 4 billion questions to interrogate you with, and also less and more anxiety at the same time.

As promised, you showered quickly and changed into a loose t shirt and tight shorts you worked out in occasionally before making your way back to your bedroom. Tossing your dirty clothes into the hamper, you quietly turned off your bedside lamp leaving the room dark and slowly got into bed where Steve was, now laying on his side facing the middle of the bed.

As you got under the blankets and settled in next to him, you noticed he had taken his hoodie off leaving him in a shirt with his pretty blonde hair to be crazy on its own accord. Feeling happy that he was finally warm and content, you let your head hit the pillow, your body facing his as well.

You couldn't tell if he was asleep or not, but you didn't pay it much mind. Happy to be back with your best friend and in your own bed, time slipped away from you as fast as your conscious.

Unsure how much time had passed, an undeniable cheeky smile spread across your lips when Steve's heavy forearms reached out to you and planted itself on your waist. His touch was tentative and very experimental, your smile widened as you could feel how hesitant he was to let the full weight of his arm rest on you.

To applaud his bravery and encourage good behavior, you placed your hand on his forearm to welcome him to relax and maybe even come a little closer if he felt like it. But he immediately ripped his arm away.

"...sorry" he mumbled quietly.

You reached over to grab his wrist and pull his arm back to right where it was before deciding that you needed to be brave for him. So you moved your whole body closer to his, pulled his arm around you, and you put your arm around him. "I was trying to pull you in, not push you away."

"Sorry again" he chuckled lazily.

You could feel his body relaxed as you tangled your legs with his, and snuggled your face into his chest. How he always managed to smell like a slice of heaven was beside you, but you were happy to reap the benefits.

Tightening his arms around you and nestling his chin into your hair, he felt like there was nothing that could ever get him to give this up. There was no emergency in the world that could pull his mind away from the happiness and comfort he felt in your embrace. Really, nothing was going to hurt him.

"Comfy?" He asked you, voice deep and raspy.

"Snug as a bug in a rug." You confirmed, making him giggle.

"Sweet dreams, Buggy."

"Goodnight, Twinkles." You said, knowing he would hate the nickname you had thought of.

"How dare you" He complained regardless of being able to hear the smile in his voice.

"Sorry, Twinkles. It's stuck now. Nothing I can do to change it."

"If you insist"

You internally celebrated the win. "Love you."

"Love you more."

As the night fell and the morning rose, Steve didn't remember a single thing. He slept like the dead, and woke up in pure bliss the next morning.

He wasn't sure he had ever been so comfortable in his entire life. The two of you weren't really cuddling anymore, but your sweet little face was still facing him, and your arms still held onto each other while your bodies drifted and sprawled out to their own contentment.

Gentle morning light, your calm and gentle breaths, he could've stayed like this forever.

He looked around and noticed you were sleeping on your tummy now, one of your legs were hiked up so your knee was against his thigh, and you had kicked most of the blankets off of yourself in your sleep. Though the heater was on and he wasn't concerned about you being cold, something caught his eye and piqued his interest.

The back of your shirt hiked up and exposed some of the skin on your back. Steve had seen you in a sports bra countless times before, even naked once, but the difference was now your back was covered in a big scar.

He frowned for you, knowing that there was a permanent reminder on your body of the asshole who went out of his way to make your life a living hell. It also left him wondering what his body would look like if it allowed him to hold onto every scar and mark obtained from battle.

Then, your stupid alarm went off and had to ruin everything. Steve tried his hardest not to curse the universe for taking this moment of peace away from him as he grabbed your phone to turn your alarm off.

He gently shook your arm until your pretty eyes blinked open.

"Time to wake up, buggy." He sweetly smiled at you.

You groaned before shoving your face into a pillow. Now it was your turn to be the dramatic one. "Says who? You can't make me"

"Says Fury, your meeting is in an hour." Steve reminded you.

"You make some good points" Your giggle sounded, poking your head back out. "Good morning, Steven."

"Steven?" Steve questioned with an eyebrow raised in confusion.

"Yeah, short for Stevenson!" You said matter of factly, prying yourself out of bed and swinging your legs over the side of the mattress.

"Oh right, my full name." Steve agreed with you with all the seriousness in the world. He would stop the world from turning just to entertain your humor.

"Mhm, it's on your birth certificate." You nodded. Still sitting on the edge of your bed, you started thinking about the day ahead of you. "Hey Twinkles, I have a question."

A smile stretched across your face as you could hear his sigh at the nickname that definitely wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "How can I help you, bug." Steve's tone unenthusiastic.

"I just realized I never got my new suit back, so what am I supposed to wear to a meeting with Fury?" You looked back at him fast enough to catch a sneaky smile on his face.

"Oh there is a reason you don't have that back yet, but you don't need it just to see Fury. Wear something nice-ish, you'll be fine."

"And what would that reason be?" You questioned, finally standing up and stretching out your back.

"I guess you'll find out today." Steve shrugged, still laying down, still feeling lazy.

"You boys are exhausting to be around" You joked while disappearing into your bathroom.

Somewhere between you humming along to your music, and your footsteps around your apartment, Steve drifted off again. He wasn't necessarily asleep, but he wasn't really awake either.

Time and space didn't exist in this subliminal place, he was just happy to be around you again. It was the first time since your initial argument together that he had felt truly peaceful, and he intended on soaking in it.

...that was until you threw a pillow at him.

"Hey!" Steve complained, opening his eyes to glare at you. His heart nearly dropped to the floor when he saw how pretty you looked. You had perfectly styled your hair and put on a full face of makeup, while also donning a business casual outfit that suited you perfectly. Out of habit, Steve tried his hardest to hide the fact that he was having heart palpitations. "You are so mean."

"That was payback!" You explained. "I'm leaving now."

"Are you nervous?" Steve asked, trying to get a read on your emotions.

You watched as he finally got up out of bed. "Not really. Should I be?"

"Not really." Steve shook his head with a polite smile. "Should I be?"

You shrugged your shoulders as he approached you. "Not really."

"Good. Then all is well." He opened his arms for you, and you accepted.

Ugh. You even smelled just as good as you looked.

"As much as I'd like to stay here and hug you forever, I don't think Fury would appreciate it if I was late." You smiled against his chest.

"I think he would be mad at me too" Steve agreed with a chuckle and let you go from his arms. "Any chance you'll tell me your career choice right now before the meeting?"

"No, but I'll tell you when I get out" You giggled.

"Far enough" Steve didn't want to push you. "Good luck, Buggie."

"See you later, Twinkles."

Next Part: True Romantic

Tag List: @saranghaey @firephotogrl74 @selella @talesofadragon @ss28 @nekoannie-chan @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @spikeluv84 @crazyunsexycool @callmissrogers @xxxalicerogersxx @whore-for-chris-evans @em8rin @mulbsstuff @qalijahbydior @awkotaco24 @buckybarnessimpp @nicoline1998enilocin @buckystevelove @rogersbarber @mybuck @dbnightingale24 @ynstark @sincerelytlh @alexakeyloveloki @mrsevans90 @smhnxdiii @claralovescaptainamerica @hisredheadedgoddess28 @bigtreefest @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

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neondiamond · 5 months

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If you know me at all, you’ll know that two of the things I enjoy most are writing fluffy ficlets, and Christmas. This year, I decided to combine the two and create my own little Christmas ficlet party all throughout December! 8 ficlets, 4 different pairings, many different tropes—all short, fluffy and festive! Perfect for a quick reading break with a warm drink!

Here is a little sneak peek of what you can expect!

🎄You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight (Larry, coffeeshop AU, strangers, 2k, fic post)

Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

❄️ An Annual Affair (OT5 friendship, A/B/O, 1.6k, fic post)

One Direction’s annual Christmas dinner, featuring pregnant Harry and his overprotective Alpha Louis, nervous Liam and his calm and collected mate Zayn, and clueless Niall who may or may not have a death wish.

🎅🏻 Not Quite Structurally Sound (Ziam, kid fic, 1.1k, fic post)

Zayn and Liam help their two kids build a gingerbread house.

⭐️ You’re Family (Larry, meeting the parents, asexual characters, 2k, fic post)

Louis is a little nervous about meeting Harry’s family for the first time for Christmas. Harry’s Mum shows him he has nothing to worry about.

Part of the Inner Crisis universe.

🎄A Special Bond (Narry friendship, kid fic, uncle Niall, 1.1k, fic post)

Baby Lilah goes to see the Christmas lights with her Daddy Harry and her uncle Niall.

❄️ Mistletoe Kiss (Larry, roommates, mutual pining, 1.2k, fic post)

A little bit of mistletoe is just the thing Louis needed to let his roommate Harry know he’s got quite the crush on him.

🎅🏻 Cookies and Christmas Cheer (Ziall friendship, hospital AU, 1k, fic post)

When Niall is feeling a little sad at having to work over the holidays, his fellow nurse Zayn shows him a little Christmas spirit is still possible.

⭐️ All That Counts (Larry, established relationship, 1.2k, fic post)

A soft Christmas morning in the Tomlinson-Styles household.

Merry Christmas everyone! ❤️

#officially less than a month less before christmas!#time for some christmas fics!!! 🎄#the fun starts in just 5 days!#2023 christmas ficlet party #fics #my fics #tracksintheam #teaser post

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eeveebitches · 7 months

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balcony. || Roman Roy

Pairing: Roman Roy x F!Reader

Summary: You're Roman's sad assistant, Roman is your comforting boss. There's something unspoken, too.

Word count: 1.685

The harsh autumn wind bites at the skin exposed by your party dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. It's times like these where you curse yourself for your 'the jacket ruins the outfit' mentality. Sure, the moment you wanna go home you can step into a cozy Uber. But this jacket-less lifestyle doesn't support emotional breakdowns on balconies.

You're not sure why you feel the way you do. Maybe it's just life-- too much and too little, constant scratching and clawing just to get out of bed. Or maybe it's this dress, and the fact it just doesn't look as good on you as it used to look. Maybe it's the fact that you're lonely, no matter how much time you spend with others.

"Are you thinking of killing yourself? Because that's, like, lame." Your head turns for some reason, as if it isn't immediately clear to you that it's Roman. "Only a little bit," you weakly chuckle out, turning back to look at the view. Small lights blinking from high to low, desperate to shine through the darkness.

Roman wordlessly walks to stand next to you, although he turns his back to the view. He leans on the old, marble railing, hands tucked in his pockets for only a moment before he pulls them out again.

He's clearly nervous. Emotions aren't on the forefront for him, and the dysfunction of his upbringing definitely hasn't made him capable of handling yours any time, either. But his hands clasp and unclasp, his eyes blink rapidly, and with a single sentence he dives into the deep end.

"So are you, uh, okay?"

Your breathing stills at the question. Suddenly the cold air blows into your eyes, and now suddenly it's making you tear up. Damn the cold air for making you look weak. "Yeah, I just... I don't know," you mumble out, carelessly wiping your eyes, any make-up you had on now smudged. From the corner of your sight you can see Roman's eyes widen. His head starts darting around, like he's searching for something in the air, as he hesitates in his next actions.

He takes a single step. A small one, for sure, but the step is to get closer to you. One leg over the other, and now his arm is touching yours. "D'you wanna... talk?" You shrug, still mindlessly staring out in front of you as Roman struggles to think of ways he can show he does care about your feelings, even if he wouldn't outwardly admit it.

"Wanna be my therapist?" You laugh bitterly as you say it, to which Roman cracks an uneasy smile. "Sounds like a fun time, maybe even a little hot. Doctor, patient, stuck in a room for way too long," he tells you, carrying a nonchalant grin.

As always, he makes you laugh. "And a therapy couch to have crazy monkey sex on. I'm into it." Roman's grin grows at that, teeth peeking out as he finally turns to look into the night as well. "Soooo, what, is the party so bad you're considering suicide?" You roll your eyes at him with a light smile, which he happily reciprocates. "You're on the right fuckin' path, though, since their wine tastes like the aftermath of a grape juice enema," he groans out, eyes squeezed shut in faux annoyance.

With each smile you give him, he feels more secure. Like his feet are properly tied onto the ground, instead of floating out into the empty cold of space. "I'm just sad is all, Romes. Not about the shit wine, though, I haven't even had any tonight."

"Seriously? I thought that guy from the app company sent you a drink. He wanted to get into your panties bad, you do know that, right?" He tries not to come over as jealous, since this is your moment of vulnerability, but you can tell he is by the way he runs a shaky hand through his hair. All you do is shrug in response. "Didn't accept it."

He cackles, which makes you smile. "You stone-cold bitch. Poor guy's gonna jerk himself off as he cries, and you show no mercy?"

Another shrug from you, and another laugh from him. His laughter dies down quickly when he sees the change in your expression. There's a quiet somberness to it. The kind that brought him back to his childhood, uniforms and broken mirrors.

He hates that somberness on you.

"Seriously, what's up? You're all quiet and fuckin' depressed, it's giving me the heebie jeebies." Your head doesn't turn to Roman as you prepare to speak. You keep your eyes on the twinkling lights of the buildings far away from you. Twinkles of humans who are just as awake, and possibly just as solemn as you are. "It's these parties. They just kinda highlight my loneliness, it's... it's just a bit much tonight," you sigh out, head not moving an inch.

You don't bother looking at Roman's face. It's most definitely a melancholic one, eyes round and glassy with his eyebrows slightly knotted. "You have me," he mumbles out, and despite his weak attempt at making it sound humorous, you both know it fell flat. He's too desperate for you to acknowledge that for it to be funny.

"I know I do."

A silence falls between the two of you as you both stare out. Roman's arm is still flush against yours, a lick of heat that's so miniscule yet so warming to you.

He's thinking of something, anything, to say to you. Something that'll comfort you like you always comfort him. But how can he copy the eye contact you make across a room, or the hug you always give him where you squeeze his shoulders extra tight? Nothing he could say could ever carry the nurture your perfume carries for him.

"You don't have to say anything, Romes, just... be here with me?"

Roman stills. His hands stop fiddling, and his eyes stop darting around, searching for an anchor point to help him stay ashore. He lets out a heavy sigh, before grabbing your hand and tugging you with him. "C'mon," he mumbles, not daring to look at your expression, "let's go home."

There's something far too domestic about how he texts his driver with one hand while the other one holds onto yours. Like you're not his underpaid assistant, or his closest friend, but instead his partner. Your mind floods with images of his apartment flooded with your things, and Sundays together in bed.

The two of you weave through the crowd. Roman speaks for the both of you every time someone tries to speak to either of you, probably to ask why you're leaving so early. He simply throws a 'fuck off' their way as he continues leading you to the exit.

The taxi is somehow already standing there. "Let's ditch this shitty granny orgy," he chuckles out. He's clearly just as nervous as you are about the implication of whatever is happening now, but he doesn't hesitate in sitting snugly against you in the car. You let your head fall onto his shoulder. A heavy sigh escapes you, the kind that felt like it had been in your lungs for years.

"Just so you know, I didn't do groceries." You huff out a small laugh. "I told you to start doing them though," you mumble against his shoulder. His head falls to lean against yours, digging his nose into your hair. "I know, I'm just really fucking stubborn, like, all the time," he mumbles back.

This makes you laugh a little harder. He laughs too, content in your proximity to him. It felt right, sharing body heat. The car stops, and as the two of you step out Roman grabs your hand again. He doesn't let go, not even when unlocking his door.

Your hands disconnect to let Roman remove and hang up his jacket. He scurries to his bedroom, leaving you to take in his apartment. You've been in it plenty of times, but never like this. Never in a way that made it feel like home.

Roman returns, already changed into a sweater and loose pants. He hands you some clothes, as well, head nudging you towards his bedroom. "It's all oversized, because my pecs are fucking huge and stretch my clothes out," he jokes, flexing his muscles as if he can't hear his blood flow in his ears.

With a sheepish grin you head to his bedroom and change. You try not to dwell on how constant Roman's scent now is, or how you're pretty sure he uses the same fabric softener as you. Instead, you call out his name, thoughtlessly throwing yourself into his bed.

He bites back a quip, and silently enters the bed to lay next to you. It's like there's no air in the room as you lay your head on his stomach, your arms carefully wrapping around his waist. Gently, he strokes your hair, other hand swung over you, keeping you as close as you can be.

Roman's body stiffens at the first sniffles. Your tears roll down your cheeks, but you don't let out any sobs. He pulls you up, and tightly wraps his arms around you. Only when your head is buried in Roman's shoulders, you let out a strangled cry. You convulse in Roman's hold, shivering despite the warmth he's giving you.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here," he whispers as he keeps his hold on you strong, lightly rocking from side to side. There's a lump in his throat as he listens to you gently weeping. You, out of all people, shouldn't ever have to feel this way.

As you quiet down, only letting out the occasional hiccup, Roman lightly pulls you to look at him. He cradles your face with his hands, shakily wiping your wet cheeks with his thumbs as he tries to think of anything to say.

"If you need a salary raise, let me know."

A hoarse laugh escapes your throat. You smile through your tears, and Roman smiles back.

"I think I'd like that."

#roman roy x reader #roman roy x you #succession #succession hbo #roman #romulus roy #roman roy #female reader #succession fanfic #hbo succession

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1dmonthlyficroundup · 4 months

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— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for December 2023! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month and arranged by writer due to the number of fics this month as there were too many tags for tumblr. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Heart Beat by @allwaswell16 [E, 33k, Louis/Harry]

Hideaway Haven is the place that Louis has always called home. It's also the place that Harry had tried to leave behind him. When Harry returns to start a music academy in his hometown, he finds himself face to face with his high school crush—and his charming daughter who wants to learn to play the drums.

A 2023 Advent Fic

＊ Daydream [T, 2k, Zayn/Louis]

Every Thursday, Louis nods hello to her fellow regulars at Horan’s Cafe, one of whom is the woman of her dreams.

＊ One [E, 4k, Louis/Tommy Shelby (Peaky Blinders)]

When omega Louis Tomlinson becomes pregnant after an unexpected encounter, he decides his only option is to flee his pack. But Tommy Shelby, pack alpha of the Peaky Blinders, might not be willing to let him go so easily.

＊ to wake up by your side is all I wanna do by @beardyboyzx [G, 1k, Zayn/Niall]

Sometimes, Niall still thinks about the way Zayn’s laugh sounds when they watch TV and Niall makes up fake answers for whatever quiz show they’re watching.

＊ it's a holidate by @disgruntledkittenface [M, 4k, Harry/Nick Grimshaw]

“So you know me well enough to come in my mouth–”

Nick’s head, along with Fiona’s next to him and those of practically every other attendee of the company holiday party, swivels in the direction of the girl in the red dress whose voice has risen enough to be heard over the music being piped across the 17th floor.

“–but not well enough to get me a Christmas present?”

Most of the crowd politely looks away at this point. Nick bursts out laughing.

When Nick meets Harry at his company holiday party, he never would have predicted that he’d met his match. Luckily, he’s been known to be wrong on occasion.

＊ Red [E, 4k, Harry/Louis]

Louis is wallowing after the breakup. He's never felt this kind of heartbreak before. All he wants to do is lie on his couch and listen to Taylor Swift alone. But when the pain is too much to handle on his own, he calls the one person who understands how this feels.

＊ You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight by @neondiamond [G, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Louis is stuck working the Christmas day shift at the coffee shop. Harry is the sad stranger who comes in to spend the day there.

＊ An Annual Affair [G, 1k, Harry/Louis]

＊ Not Quite Structurally Sound [G, 1k, Zayn/Liam]

Zayn and Liam help their two kids build a gingerbread house.

＊ You’re Family [G, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Louis is a little nervous about meeting Harry’s family for the first time for Christmas. Harry’s Mum shows him he has nothing to worry about. Part 3 of Inner Crisis universe

＊ A Special Bond [G, 1k, Niall & Harry]

Baby Lilah goes to see the Christmas lights with her Daddy Harry and her uncle Niall.

＊ Mistletoe Kiss [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

A little bit of mistletoe is just the thing Louis needed to let his roommate Harry know he’s got quite the crush on him.

＊ Cookies and Christmas Cheer [G, 1k, Niall & Zayn]

When Niall is feeling a little sad at having to work over the holidays, his fellow nurse Zayn shows him a little Christmas spirit is still possible.

＊ All That Counts [G, 1k, Louis/Harry]

A soft Christmas morning in the Tomlinson-Styles household.

＊ Lonely Cards Club by @hellolovers13 [T, k, Harry/Louis]

Harry's life in Cardiff is rather uneventful. Until he receives a strange Christmas postcard.

It gets even stranger when he finds another one the next day.

An Advent story about missed opportunities and second chances.

＊ It's okay, 'cause you're not alone [T, 896 words, Niall/Zayn]

Niall focussed on Zayn’s steady heartbeat, tried to use it to ground himself.

thump, thump, thump

One, two, three.

He was safe.

Always safe in Zayn’s arms.

＊ tell me that your sweet love hasn't died by punk_pillow_princess / @punkpillowprincess [M, 27k, Louis/Harry]

“Remember when I said that I came out to my parents last summer, and told them we were together, and they took it really well?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, that wasn’t entirely accurate.”

Louis tries to settle better in the seat to see Harry. “They didn’t take it well?”

“No...I didn’t tell them.”

OR Louis and Harry have been in a relationship for a year. While on their way to Harry's parents' house and his family's legendary annual Christmas party, Louis discovers that Harry has not yet come out of the closet to his family, who are also full of secrets, fears and afraid of a bad reputation in town.

A Happiest Season AU

＊ Chaos by @haztobegood [M, 100 words, Louis/OMC]

Against the barricade, it’s complete chaos.

＊ Baking Memories [T, 2k, Louis/Jack Cochrane]

After a long day of songwriting, Jack convinces Louis to bake mince pies together.

＊ Jump! by @reminiscingintherain [M, 15k, Louis/Tommy Longhurst]

He let out a noise of surprise as his arms were suddenly full of a sweaty body, as Tommy threw himself at Louis and held on tightly. “Thank you so fucking much,” he muttered against Louis’ shoulder, squeezing a little. “You have no idea how much this means to us.” Louis softened a little, gently tapping Tommy’s back. “I absolutely know what this means, lad,” he replied, his voice gentle and supportive. “The way you’re reacting to being out there? That’s exactly why I chose you for the support slot.” He gave a reassuring squeeze. “You deserve this, okay?” He pulled back a little, gripping the back of Tommy’s neck and looking him in the eyes. “You deserve this.”

＊ don’t let the fire die by @nouies [E, 8k, Harry/Louis]

Harry makes a long trip to take back what is his. Part 2 of burning bright

＊ Ride My Sleigh Tonight by @kingsofeverything [E, 9k, Louis/Harry]

In exchange for free food and drinks at Liam’s office holiday party, Harry pretends to be his boyfriend.

But this is not that story.

＊ “Are there any gays in here?” by red_panda28 / @red-pandaaa [E, 7k, Harry/Louis]

“Maybe you just need a different approach,” Niall suggested, as Louis stopped by to pick up Clifford and was whining about not having met anyone in ages.

“Yeah, cheers. Very helpful,” he replied sarcastically. But as he took Cliff for his evening walk Niall’s words stuck with him.

OR Louis is fed up with meaningless hook-ups, Harry happened to visit Starbucks on a Wednesday, and Clifford is the best

＊ Stuck in Midnight Traffic by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [M, 2k, Louis/Harry]

The curly haired man sniffles again, but the tears seemed to have stopped for now at least. “I was supposed to spend Christmas Eve with my boyfriend, that is until we got into a horrible fight.” He seems to wince at his own words. “I guess I should start getting used to calling him my ex-boyfriend. But anyways, we just couldn’t stay there any longer. Kevin and I had to get out.”

Louis blinks before looking around the empty tube car confusedly. “Kevin?”

The man nods and then squeezes a little tighter to the little potted plant clutched in his arms. “Kevin is a Christmas Cactus, but he doesn’t bloom.” He quickly adds. “Which is completely fine, because I love him just as he is.”

Louis’ not sure what most of that means. All he does know is that he needs to make sure this strange, beautiful creature is never sad again.

(Or the one where two broken people meet in an empty tube car on Christmas Eve. Can they find a way to heal each other?)

＊ Let Me Inside by @enchantedlandcoffee [E, 286 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis gets a surprise visit from his alpha in the shower.

＊ Feel My Traces [M, 2k, Harry/Louis]

“Oh. You actually have a tattoo gun?" "Yes, Harold, I actually have a tattoo gun. What did you think I was gonna tattoo you with? A cucumber? You do talk some shit sometimes," Louis teased, walking up to Harry with the tattoo gun in his hand. "Right, what do you want?" Harry looked at the device and paled. "Um…" "Not backing out on me now, are you Styles?" Louis teased, a gentle smile forming on his face. "You see, the thing is, I didn't actually think you had a tattoo gun,” Harry chuckled nervously, eyes still fixated on the device.

Or, temporary tattoos, a misunderstanding and a passionate moment.

＊ Do you really want to be all alone? [G, 601 words, Louis/Harry]

Harry, Louis and the kids wake up on Christmas Morning. Part One of Three, Part 6 of The Coach Tommo Universe

＊ hope we grow old but we never grow up [G, 5k, Niall/Harry]

But Niall was convinced that Harry couldn't like him back, that just wouldn't make sense. Both of them couldn't be that oblivious to how the other one felt. …Right? So he did the only logical thing his 17 year old self could think of. He flirted back.

OR Three key moments in Niall and Harry's relationship.

＊ I'm Missing Half Of Me... [T, 233 words, Louis/Harry]

Louis calls Harry after he's shaved his head.

＊ Always You [G, 922 words, Harry/Louis]

“You heading home, mate?” Liam asked as the movie ended. softly nudging Zayn to wake him up. “Is it alright if I just kip here, Payno?” Louis answered, taking a sip of his beer as he stretched his legs out, having been sitting on them for the majority of the movie. “You sure, Lou? You’re only down the hall and I’m sure Harry’d be worried if you didn’t come home?” “Nah, I'm sure he'll be just fine by himself for one night. Besides, I’m pretty sure Nick’s over there.” Louis drawled, finishing off his beer as he searched his pockets for his phone. Liam winced at the bitter tone in his friend’s voice.

Or, Louis calls his ex on Valentine's Day.

＊ Have yourself a larry little christmas [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

The two of them had planned to exchange presents for Christmas and Louis’ birthday before they separated until New Years and Harry thought it'd be a perfect time to introduce Louis to his cat. However, they’d run into a small obstacle shortly after they'd arrived. That obstacle being British weather. An alert from their weather apps had popped up on their phones, signalling to them the start of a freak snowstorm and advising everyone to stay indoors.

OR A plan to exchange presents lead to more than both Harry and Louis bargained for.

＊ All The Way Home I'll Be Warm by @justanothershadeofblue [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Harry & Louis jokingly send out holiday cards together as friends, and now everyone is congratulating them for finally getting together. A 5+1 fic, for Christmas.

＊ Be Merry All [M, 30k, Harry/Louis]

there is a specific sort of oppression that comes with a miserable so-cal christmas, when it’s dark and dirty and rainy or else it's too hot and too bright and everyone’s hustling, and your family is all far away and the laundry machines in your building are broken and you’ve eaten too much take-out and all you want is two seconds of quiet and maybe a morsel of holiday joy.

an advent fic, posting daily (in theory).

＊ Santa Baby (one little thing I really need) by we_are_the_same / @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed [T, 3k, Louis/Harry]

When Louis himself had first heard those words - all the nurses at the A&E have a secret line to Santa’s sleigh on Christmas Eve-, not nearly long enough ago to be considered a child himself, but long enough that he hadn't really felt like an adult all the time, he’d laughed them off. Thought they were sweet, of course, but just a line, something said to appease the kids who ended up having to stay overnight. Something to explain the presents that parents brought to the hospital on Christmas morning, or that were waiting for them at home, if they were lucky not to have to stay any longer.

Something that would allow a little bit of Christmas spirit in the sometimes sterile rooms of the hospital.

But that was before he’d met him.

＊ Snow In Love by @lululawrence [NR, 33k, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis are best friends and have been for basically as long as they can remember. For the first time since middle school, they are both single for the holidays leaving them with the brilliant idea to take each other as their dates to work events. To make things easier they will pretend like they’re dating. But then they learn something funny.

People thought they were already dating. Weird.

An advent fic featuring childhood friends, fake dating turned actual dating, really horrible secret keeping, and a winter weather surprise.

＊ Damsel in Christmas Distress [NR, 5k, Louis/Harry/NIck Grimshaw]

Nick's door was open. He didn't leave it that way. Maybe his gorgeous neighbor will help protect him from any possible murderers who have made their way into his flat while he was gone.

Merry Louis' birthday, Happy Stylinshaw.

＊ Step Into Christmas by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt [G, 4k, Harry/Louis]

Louis just wants to celebrate his birthday in peace, without all the Christmas antics.

Instead he wakes up in a strange bed, a confused stranger next to him and a self proclaimed elf calling him Santa. Part 1 of Holidays Are Coming

＊ 'tis the damn season by YesIsAWorld / @louandhazaf [E, 17k, Louis/Harry]

Harry returns to her small hometown over the holiday season and starts to think about the road not taken.

＊ A Christmas at Home by @parmahamlarrie [T, 3k, Harry/Louis]

After meeting his boyfriend in the emergency room, not having Louis home for Christmas Eve (and his birthday) was not a big surprise to Harry. What he didn't expect was just how hard that would be on his six year old son, Arlo.

Or, the one where Arlo wants nothing more than to celebrate Louis' birthday with him, and Harry hates having to be the parent who says no. Part 2 of Arlo's Christmases

＊ Get Out Of My Head (and I'll get out of yours) by Imogenlee / @imogenleewriter [E, 29k, Louis/Harry]

“You really that desperate, are you?” Despite it being a shitty thing to say, Harry didn’t mind too much, as the bitterness in Louis’ tone sounded like music to Harry’s ears. Harry was winning tonight. “Can’t find anyone new to be interested in you, so you try to hit on Zayn.”

“I can’t find someone interested in me?” Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. “You’re having a laugh, mate.”

“Yeah, well, where are they, then? Because from what I’ve heard, you’re here alone.”

“As if I’d bring anyone to somewhere I knew you’d be. I wouldn’t wish your presence on my worst enemy.”

“Aw,” Louis cooed in a way that made Harry want to slap him. “You’re saying I’m not your worst enemy?”

“For someone to be an enemy, you have to give a shit about them. So, no. You’re not even on the list.”

“Oh–kay. Well, it’s been lovely as always, gents,” Zayn said before knocking back the rest of his drink.

Or the one for the Bottom Harry Fic Fest where Harry bottoming is more of a side plot, because angst got in the way--but it doesn't really matter because the fest stopped existing when I was halfthrough.

＊ Oh Christmas Three by @tommokat [M, 1k, Harry/Louis]

A birthday surprise goes awry. Louis doesn’t understand. Harry blames the oven.

— Fic Fests —

＊ Louis Rare Pair Fest / @louisrarepairfest [AO3, masterpost]

A rare pair fest for all Louis rare pairs

＊ The Show Fic Fest / @theshowficfest [AO3, masterpost]

Fics written for and inspired by songs from Niall Horan's third album The Show

— Podfics —

＊ [podfic] Season 2, Episode 13: Oh Little Town of BATHlehem [a fic by ladylondonderry] by podfic_pals / @podfic-pals [G, Louis/Harry]

Louis Tomlinson needs a small pink bathtub.

He needs it.

His fucking family had forgotten to include him in the email chain for Doris for Christmas, with her very carefully thought out Christmas list, until every easy item was gone. Only when he asked Lottie if anyone else had heard from Doris yet, only then did they realise their mistake and forward the email chain to him.

So, it’s either a small pink bathtub or an entire bouncy castle. And if he had the money for a bouncy castle that would be fine, but that fucker costs more than his monthly rent and he simply does not make that much working as an optometrist assistant.

＊ [podfic] Season 2, Episode 14: I've Got My Love to Keep Me Warm [a fic by haloeverlasting] by podfic_pals / @podfic-pals [NR, Harry/Louis]

Louis takes a deep breath, and replies very quickly to get it over with, “Well, see, I don’t have any heat in my flat right now and it’s hard enough to go to sleep when I’m bloody freezing—”

“Oh god. And my music’s gone and made it even worse,” Harry cuts in.

“Well, it only went out today,” Louis explains, “So it wasn’t that bad before, erm. Now.”

“Before?” Harry asks, horrified. “How long has this been?”

“Oh, erm,” Louis folds his hands where they hang in front of him and admits, “All week.”

Harry visibly wilts. He looks so sad, it makes Louis feel awful. He’s gone and crushed someone’s Christmas spirit. Some beautiful boy who looks like Danny Zuko is sad now and it’s Louis’ fault, which means he doesn’t stand a chance at being the cute neighbor from the floor below. And now he’s going to have to sleep in his freezing cold flat knowing he may as well have ruined Christmas.

Or, Louis' heat is out, Harry's a terrible upstairs neighbor, and an empty Christmas tree is the perfect excuse to fall in love.

＊ [Podfic] All I Do the Whole Day Through by Panda_Podfics / @pandapodfics [NR, Louis/Harry]

Louis reached up and grabbed the ridiculously thick jumper that had the planets all over it and slammed the wardrobe doors shut. It was only as he turned around that he realized why Harry’s bedroom door had been shut.

There was a nest on Harry’s bed.

But why was Harry using Louis’ clothes and items that probably smelled like him in his nest?

＊ [podfic] Season 2, Episode 15: room for your love underneath this tree [a fic by we_are_the_same] by podfic_pals / @podfic-pals [T, Harry/Louis]

“IwannameetHarryStyles,” Daisy mumbles, and Louis blinks.

“What?”

“She says she wants to meet Harry Styles.” Phoebe pipes up, and Louis blinks again, absently switches the camera to himself because he knows that his followers will want to catch his baffled expression.

“You-” he starts, and then stops himself, because he did tell her she could ask for anything she wanted, and how can he go back on his word and tell her that he doesn’t actually have the power to make that happen?

Because Harry Styles is -- he’s next level kind of famous. Louis has two million subscribers on his YouTube, but Harry has eighteen times as many followers on his Twitter alone. He’s had three number one hits in the last year, and his last album had charted at the top spot for a record breaking 27 weeks. He’s a singer, actor and philanthropist, and there is no way in hell that Louis can get him to come meet Daisy for Christmas.

So of course he laughs, even if it’s a little bit breathless, and nods at her. “One Harry Styles for Christmas, coming right up.”

＊ [Podfic] Christmas Special 2023 by Panda_Podfics / @pandapodfics [T, Louis/Harry]

three fics full of Christmas Fluff

All the lights are sparkling for you, it seems written by @thebreadvansstuff

Do you really want to be all alone? written by @enchantedlandcoffee

You Don’t Have to Be Lonely Tonight written by @neondiamond

#28th appreciation #hltracks #hlcreators #hljournal #trackinghappily #trackinghome #1dficvillage #tracksintheam #1dsource

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gl1tch3doracle · 5 months

Text

⊹ ࣪ ˖ twilight showers ˖ ࣪⊹

First oneshot, so ofc I had to do the queen of cool herself, Quanxi. I'm absolutely weak for this woman.

➸ Quanxi + !Fem!Reader

➸ Word count; 2,093 words,

➸ Y'know, probably set sometime during part 2, but I wouldn't know when. No major spoilers aside from the fiends.

➸ No content warnings either. Just some hurt/comfort ♡ (Although I would say it's been a little while since I've written something, so it might be a little wonky 'cause I'm rusty). Constructive criticism is greatly appreciated!

Night befallen - Twinkling lights across a rather solemn concrete jungle, all blurred by the flurry of raindrops pinstriping against a benumbing glass pane. From up in your apartment, it all seemed like a well-put-together maze of harrowing misfortunes that seemed to follow almost every citizen of Kyoto. Somewhere down there was a family ruined by a devil attack, a partner mourning their lost loved one, children crying because their friends had been ripped away without explanation. All events that could happen to you at a moment's notice - The coin could flip and land heads up, and it would be lights out before you might even notice.

That was a thought that occasionally tickled your brain. Every few weeks or so, most likely foretold by a day's event. It could've been a devil attack that jostled your mind - or even just a shitty day at work. It always came at night specifically, though, which was absolutely perfect when you were trying to get to sleep.

It was sad to think about, the way people's lives were cut clean on such short notice, which is why you tried not to do that all too often. That wasn't as easy as it sounded, especially when, unlike the others who had to live with their chosen reality, you were pretty safe and well-off all things considered. It manifested in a welt of guilt swelling in your chest, and that was the reason when night fell like it had fallen all those times before, you still slept on and off, swaddled up in your bed.

No nightmares plagued you and no misfortune befell you, because you were wholly safe - Especially when you were wrapped in the arms of your girlfriend. Someone would have to be an idiot to attempt on your life; Devil, human or fiend, it didn't matter, because Quanxi would cut them down with scary proficiency like she'd done so many times in the past.

That was most nights, anyway. The warm feeling of safety and Quanxi would not lull you to sleep tonight. The bed was empty and cold, blankets strewn over the edge, pillows tossed and tucked under your head and over your arm. It wasn't that rare for Quanxi to be stuck deep in the alleyways working, but it didn't make you feel any less lonely.

Outside, the storm grew heavier. The windows rattled.

Every time the rain stuck your window, every time the wind pulled against the structure of your building, every time a piercing howl or screech cut through the veil, you felt yourself flinch into the comfort of your plush duvet. You were safe, that you knew, but it was an instinct in every human to fear devils or something. At least, it felt instinctual for you, because being scared of creatures and beings that craved your pain sort've felt natural.

Although, among the melody of the stormed city, there was another sound hidden amongst all the others. Beyond the furious tapping of the rain, the whirling of the wind, the honks of traffic and whatever far-away noises plagued the world surrounding you, there was one, tiny, sharp sound that ricocheted in your ears. It would've been so easy to miss it, and yet you couldn't help but zero in on it like a homing beacon.

Like the sound of a bird tapping curiously at the glass, similar to a singular dense raindrop pattering against the frame or the friendly waving of your houseplants' leaves drawn to the beaming sun.

Or, even perhaps, if you stretched the idea far enough, like an arrowhead plinking against rain-pattered glass.

You chuckled. That thought was a bit overly specific, although not for lack of reason. However, if it was the arrowhead, it was better to go check, just to make sure.

The floor was startlingly cold underneath your bare feet, enough to make you wince, but not enough to send you back under your blankets. The window wasn't far, after all, a few paces to your left. You could already see her figure staunchly squatted on the windowsill, her back to the wind with her hair whipped back and forth.

Quanxi was without her swords, clean of blood and grime but drenched from head to toe from the storm.

You yawned and cracked open the window, letting her slink silently, almost peacefully, from the rugged weather outside into the comfort of your twilight bedroom.

"Quanxi?" Her name was soft on your lips. She stilled in front of you, mouth drawn into a thin line, twitched downward at the corners. She was an enigma, one you were slowly unwrapping and figuring out for yourself. A mystery that only let her guard for one person, and that one person was you.

She didn't say anything, only shrugged off her suit jacket and wrapped her cold, muscled arms around you, tugging you into an embrace that smelled strongly of men's cologne - Cedar and cashmere, underlined by a tinge of bloody iron and sharp rain. The way she twitched softly, fingers digging inwards as she tugged you closer, twining them into your hair as she sweetly kissed your forehead. Protective, anxious, almost lost seaming.

Also, as you may've mentioned, she was thoroughly drenched - Carrying a sheen of rain, heavy enough to dampen your clothes and chill your skin as well. Usually, you would've laughed at the action, maybe called her silly as she rolled her eyes playfully, cracking a rare smile. But tonight was not the night, tinged with sadness and longing. It was a sense in her eye, and in the way she held you so close and dear to her heart, literally and metaphorically.

You sighed and kissed whatever part of her you could reach - Cold skin dappled with raindrops. Quanxi sighed softly, melting ever so slightly as the heat from your love and the room thawed her bones.

"Go have a shower," You murmured into her. Quanxi grunted.

"Don't wanna." You rolled your eyes and gently shoved her in the direction of your bathroom. She battered her eyelashes at you, pursed her lips and set you with a look that would've made you shake if it weren't for the emphasised pout she gave you.

"You're freezing. Go have a shower," You pointed accusingly at her, which prompted nothing more than a quirked eyebrow. A part of you was more than glad that Quanxi was home again, but another, more tired part of you didn't want to deal with her stubbornness at one in the morning.

"You are not getting in that bed freezing cold and wet," You didn't wait for her to respond, verbally or otherwise, and instead returned to the lukewarm embrace of your bed and blankets. The almost silent pattering of Quanxi's footsteps out of the bedroom, echoing into the bathroom. The spattering of shower water followed soon after, steam billowing out from the door and spilling into the hallway.

You sniffled and rolled over, burrowing your face into the nearest pillow. Time seemed like an infallible concept as you listened to the sounds of rapid water showering across tiles. The repetitive lapping sound filled your senses, a subtle humidity filled the apartment, scents of soap and petrichor pleasantly swarmed your nose. The minutes slipped through your fingers, metaphorically, sleep weighing on your eyelids. You blinked, and it seemed in a moment Quanxi had re-entered the room with a slicked-back mess of wet silver atop her head and a towel in hand.

She blinked once and held out the towel in a silent question. You yawned and slid out of bed a second time that night, following your girlfriend into the bathroom.

Resting in front of the mirror, Quanxi closed her eye in contentment as you worked the water from her hair, patting it down to get the most of the water out. That itself was no easy feat, so, being as tired as you were, you whipped out the hairdryer. It was a loud, ebbing sound in your ears, but you couldn't give a crap as you watched the stress slowly seep from the muscles in Quanxi's shoulders.

"How often do you brush your hair?" You murmured against the back of her head. The brush in your hand was snagged against another knot. If Quanxi heard your question, she didn't make any motion that she would answer it - Instead, her fingers traced over the lace of her favourite choker. Even as you worked the kinks out of her hair, smoothing her silver locks till they were smooth and dry enough that your pillows wouldn't be wet in the morning, you couldn't help but notice that her attention would never drift from the fabric.

Hair dried, Quanxi insisted she would be fine to just slip into some pyjamas. You pointedly didn't point out the gooseflesh skittering up and down her arms and instead kissed her behind her ear before leaving for the bedroom for what you hoped was the last time.

The bed was cold. You sniffled and sighed, pulling the blankets over your head as you scavenged together the various pillows that had been tossed all over the bed. You only resurfaced once the click of the bedroom door opening resounded throughout the otherwise pin-drop silence, Quanxi silently walked in afterwards.

Her shoulders were bare, the only part that way highlighted by the sliver of moonlight escaping through the tumultuous clouds. She cast a look in your direction, eyepatch now removed. You didn't even flinch at the empty hole in her face, but rather, your eyes were drawn to the lace collar still firmly twined around her neck.

Quanxi seemed off. Her fingers brushed slowly over the lace as she pulled a shirt over her head.

"Do you miss them?" You'd spent enough time just watching her, listening to the sounds Quanxi made and studying the way she worked. You could tell when she was disheartened, sad even, in the most minuscule meaning of the word. Even if it did feel like a stab in the dark, the moment she stilled for more than a second settled your thoughts.

"Sometimes. Yes," Quanxi finished getting dressed, suddenly seeming a lot smaller without her loose ponytail. Silver cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, tangled and shining as she shimmied into bed next to you.

You knew about her fiends. They all were important to Quanxi, held near and dear in her heart, especially in death. You'd never met them, but you had no qualms with Quanxi keeping a few pictures on hand (and in your apartment). Perhaps in another life, you would've lived side by side with them, all a part of Quanxi's little self-made family. Your big bed certainly would've been useful in that case, six warm bodies all snuggled up under the blankets on a night like tonight.

As selfish and greedy as it sounded, there was a little part of you that was happy to have Quanxi all to yourself. Still, you just gave her a small smile, tired, and pulled her into your embrace.

Quanxi didn't cry. You didn't think anything in this world could make Quanxi cry, but she was shaking. Small, violent tremors that you wouldn't have felt if it weren't for the fact she was pressed against the pulse point in your neck. Your arms circled her neck, loosely looped around her warmth as your wrists rested gently against the cloth of her choker - A sensation that made your skin itchy, but, with your girlfriend planted firmly in your embrace, you were not willing to move a muscle. It was a rarity that Quanxi let you hold her so openly, so closely, her face pressed against you in such a manner your legs had to tangle together underneath the sheets.

Her breaths rolled over you in uneven puffs, heat against your skin in a way that pleasantly tingled and instilled a feeling of drowsiness. It was peaceful, in a sense of the word, and you were more than willing to let sleep take you. Nestled up against her, head held carefully in your arms with her warmth a constant ebb and flow against the biting chill outside, you couldn't help but answer the lulling call of sleep.

Quanxi pursed her lips, feeling your breath even out below her ear. It felt comfortable, soothing even. Although she knew she wouldn't sleep tonight (she hardly ever did anymore), spending the time listening to the rain outside, the pulsing of your heart all while she tried to bury the memories of her past deep within her subconscious.

#quanxi x reader #quanxi #csm quanxi #x reader #csm #chainsaw man x reader #wlw #wlw x reader #lesbians #give quanxi the soft love she deserves #i really think she needs a hug

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scuderiamh · 1 year

Text

WINDOWSILL || a. leclerc x reader

pairing: arthur leclerc x reader request: yes / no summary: the best friend you've been in love with since second grade shows up at your door at 3AM with pizza. word count: 1.4k warnings: talk of heartbreak and healing

a heartbreak past, a long road healing to come.

it wasn't linear. you knew that much. healing was a long, uphill battle. healing was adjusting to a drastic change and hardly knowing how. healing was leaning on the friends that have stuck by you. healing was difficult but most of all inconsistent.

some days were fine. you could work and go out and take care of yourself and your home. you'd think then you'd gotten over it, until it came down to the other days. where you could hardly will yourself to get up. where you didn't want to talk to anyone or do anything. where all you felt you had the mental energy to do was lie down and cry.

today was the latter of the two.

the breakup you’d had with your boyfriend was nearly a month ago now, but you've yet to escape the stuttering back and forth between being okay with it and not. it felt like someone was in control of a switch – one you couldn’t reach quite high enough to flip. and you were tired. every bad day felt like a thousand and you just wanted it all to stop.

now, as the sun had long since lain to rest, you sat on your windowsill watching the outside world. it was quiet, and dark. the company of the moon was one you’d always appreciated. it always made you feel comforted. but not even the moon was visible tonight and your heart felt like someone had left it out to dry and by now it has long since shriveled.

you could call a friend, but the one person in the world you wanted to talk to could’ve been asleep. and you didn't want to risk waking him up, given his hectic schedule.

another unspoken thing keeping you from reaching out was your not wanting to be a burden. as if you ever were, to him, but those were the worries you were put down by at times like these.

chin on one knee, arms hugged around a leg. you sighed heavily as you listened to the cadence of grasshoppers and distant waves, watching the occasional lone car drive past. only one thing broke this peaceful, lonely rhythm – a phone chime. a singular text.

you were tempted to ignore it. who could possibly need a reply from you this late at night? you didn’t want to talk unless it was to your best friend. but given the thought that it could be an emergency, you wouldn’t be able to wallow placidly for much longer if you hadn’t checked.

arthur: “open door, please”

you gave yourself no more than about two seconds to be confused before getting up and making your way to your front door, absolutely no hesitation in opening it. the one person you wanted to talk to.

“arthur, why are you-?”

“can i come in, please?”

there he was. standing at your doorstep despite the time of night. hair disheveled, looking like he might’ve just done some running. a large pizza box in hands, phone lying on the pizza box. looking simultaneously insane and so, so normal.

“right. okay. come in.”

you stepped aside, letting him come inside before you shut the door behind him. for a brief moment you told yourself to put up the persona and convince him you were alright, but you reminded yourself that this was arthur. you could take that mask off around him.

“what have you been doing?” he beat you to asking the questions. it’s fine, you weren’t about to interrupt.

you shifted your weight from one foot to another, considering your answer for a moment. if it were anyone else, you might've lied. “just… sitting. thinking, i guess.”

his only question was, “where?”

a frown tugged down at your lips. “um… my bedroom windowsill?”

“okay.” he answered with a small smile, one that held almost a hint of mischief. before you questioned his antics, he set down his phone on your counter, and with the pizza box, he went straight to your room. you followed without a word.

and suddenly the previously lonely windowsill containing a sad girl stuck in her mind now held a lovestruck boy and a box of pizza, with the girl of his dreams fast approaching. he’d made himself comfortable, so you followed suit. it was wordless, and a bit of a squeeze considering the size of the window, but just right. it always seemed to be with him.

him. the only man in the world who could wash away your worries, your sadness, the one who’d been there to wipe away many tears. the one who was always there. the one who showed up without being asked. the one you trusted with your life.

arthur. your arthur.

the starlight seemed to turn from gray and dull to a softer light – a change of situation seemed to change your perception of the setting right around. the sound around you turned from melancholic to hopeful. the breeze became comfortable, not taunting.

“what were you thinking about?” he asked you, retrieving a slice for you and one for himself.

you shook your head, taking a bite. “not important anymore.”

he just nodded in acknowledgement. chances are, he knew exactly what you were thinking about. but he didn’t press. he didn’t ask you out of nosiness or lack of knowledge in the first place, he simply wanted to open the door of talking about it, in the case that you wanted to. he figured you'd think you'd be burdening him if you brought it up yourself — he knew you and how your mind tended to work. as soon as you gave the indication of not wanting to pursue the topic he dropped it.

you two continued to eat in mostly silence. mentioning things about your days here and there, as if you guys didn’t talk about every detail of your days earlier. you talked just to hear eachothers voices. what the other had to say, despite hearing it before. just to talk to one another, just to soak in eachothers presence, fully. because you wanted to. you both did.

“can i ask you a question?”

arthur didn't wait a second to answer. “always. what is it?”

“why��d you come?”

he shrugged and glanced at you. “i don’t know. i was awake, i knew you would be awake, probably… and sometimes you just need nights like this, you know?”

you did know. you knew it more than ever. did he know how much you needed this? something told you he did.

pizza box empty, it was tossed into your room. you made a mental note to pick it up later. with a soft sigh, you rested your head on his shoulder. he wrapped an arm around you in response.

the touch was natural. nothing about it felt forced or out of place. it came with something you both knew – if the other asked, the touch would go further. the emotional connection was there, it always has been, but you never got physical like that with him. never spoke of that connection. let it go unaddressed. maybe out of fear of shattering your friendships, maybe it was something else. you never knew and you never asked.

but you both knew it could go there.

he could kiss you right now, sitting right by him. and you’d kiss right back, he likely knew that. but you didn't go there, neither of you did. you only enjoyed the warmth and security coming from him and he enjoyed providing that.

it was always there – the lingering love. a love never fully tapped into. a love that could be something, could go somewhere. a love almost too scary to be pursued. a beautiful type of love that broke your heart just a little, if you dared to let yourself think about.

you tried not to think about it. not usually. it's only times like now you almost, just barely, allowed yourself to indulge in those thoughts.

he wasn't just a friend and he never was. he was your best friend and your other half. has been as long as you remember. no one else was there for every celebration, every heartbreak, every achievement in the way that he was. nobody else connected with you like he did. and you were starting to believe no one ever would. you didn't want anyone to.

“hey, arthur?”

“hm?” he hummed back, rubbing little invisible patterns onto your shoulder.

“thank you for coming.”

a bit of a bewitching anguish, wasn't it? a mutual understanding of feelings unmentioned. all here on a healing windowsill.

“always.”

tag list: @holy-macncheese-balls @buendiabebeta @dan3avacado ... ask to be added or removed

#arthur leclerc #arthur leclerc x reader #arthur leclerc one shot #arthur leclerc x y/n #arthur leclerc fanfic #f1 #f3 #f2 #f3 x reader #f2 x reader #formula one fanfic #formula 1 fanfic

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gunilslaugh · 4 days

Text

Been A While

Kim Jungsu Summary: After leaving Jungsu you thought you’d never see him again, but five years later here he is standing right in front of you. (non-idol au) WC:~1k Warning:none

photo not mine credits to owner.

Pulling the chair out you took a seat beside one of your friends at a cafe.

“Y/n we were just talking about hanging out tonight. Do you want to come?” your friend asked.

“What’s the occasion?” you asked.

“One of my brother’s friends is coming back from being abroad, so we’re getting together to welcome him back,” they answered.

“I don’t know him though,” you half laughed.

“It’s mainly so I won’t be lonely. Please?” they pouted.

“I’ll be there too. Come on, you wouldn’t leave us alone right?” your other friend joined in.

“If you two are together then you’re not alone,” you sassed.

“Y/n~” they both complained.

“Ok, I’ll come,” you gave in. The two of your friends cheered.

You and your friends arrived at your friends house where the get together was being held. Your friend led you through their house to the back door. Telling you guys that everything was set up outback.

“Jungsu!” your friend called once you stepped into the backyard. Jungsu? No, it couldn’t be him? Sure enough it was. Your eyes met his from where he stood across the yard. You weren’t supposed to see him again, yet here he was standing in front of you.

“Y/n?” Jungsu said.

“You two know each other?” your friend’s brother questioned. You knew Jungsu all too well, or at least you used to.

The stars shone brightly in the night sky as you and Jungsu were out on a moonlit walk. You never imagined that you would fall in love while volunteering in an underdeveloped town. Originally you were supposed to come here to write your thesis. Love was the last thing on your mind, but then you met Jungsu and everything felt so right.

Jungsu was also volunteering in the town. He was a temporary teacher to the young children. You met him in the small classroom he taught at. You were sitting in on one of his classes to observe. The small children absolutely adored him. It was impossible to find it endearing. He was gentle and kind to them, but also knew how to keep his authority.

“Was class good enough to write your thesis about?” he asked you after class when the children had left.

“I can definitely write things about it. ‘The young students were eager to learn as they looked at their teacher with heart eyes-’ oh wait I think that was me.”

“Are you flirting with me?” He had a hint of pink to his cheeks.

“I have other places to be, but I’ll see you tomorrow,” you smiled coyly. You swung your bag over your shoulder and left the little classroom.

“Jungsu, it’s been a while,” you say.

“How do you two know each other?” your friend asked.

“Remember that volunteer work I told you about?” you said.

“The one you wrote your thesis about?” they checked. You nodded.

“He was also a volunteer there at the time,” you informed.

“What a small world,” your friend’s brother comments.

After your little reunion the hangout proceeded as normal. Except for you and Jungsu who couldn’t stop taking glances at one another. It felt so surreal to see him again. You were sure when you left that town, you would never see Jungsu again. That’s why you stayed longer than you needed to.

“I finished my thesis a week ago,” you told Jungsu. You can feel Jungsu tense from where he sits beside you on a large rock that’s beside the river.

“You’re leaving?” he says.

“I was never gonna stay here forever. We both knew I’d leave eventually.”

“Eventually used to feel far away,” Jungsu states. It’s true. When you first arrived in the town it felt like you’d be away from home for a long time, but suddenly it was time to go back, past time.

“I know. I remember getting stuck about halfway through and thinking that I might be here forever…and that I wanted to throw my laptop into the river.” You and Jungsu let out a sad laugh.

“So if I throw your laptop in the river you’ll stay?” he says.

“What’s scary is I think I might let you.” Jungsu’s hand finds yours on the rock. His fingers curl around your hand.

“It’s scary that I thought about doing it too.”

“We really love each other don’t we?” You rest your head on his shoulder.

“That’s why we have to let each other go,” he states solemnly.

“Not just yet though. I still got a couple of days here,” you tell.

“Oh trust me. I’ll hold you till you get on that truck.” Jungsu moves to wrap his arms around you in a hug.

The rest of the group has retired inside of the house for the night. You and Jungsu remained outside.

“The stars were prettier there,” you comment.

“The children really missed you after you left,” he tells you.

“I wasn’t really there all that long though,” you say.

“Long enough for them to look at you with heart eyes-oh wait, that was me.”

“Are you flirting with me?” Jungsu shrugged coyly. “I really thought about staying,” you reveal.

“I thought about it too. Staying there with you. Having a life together,” he admits

“Do you think there’s some other version of us that’s still there?” you question.

“If there is, I'm a bit jealous of them,” he answers. “But since we get to meet again I’m happy with this version of us too,” he voices.

“So do I have to ask you out again or?” you ask sheepishly

“I don’t remember you asking me out the first time. I remember you kissing me and we started dating afterwards but I don’t think you asked me,” he lightly teased you.

“Me kissing you was asking,” you declared.

“Then I think you need to do it again,” he said leaning closer to you. You locked your hands together behind his neck and closed the distance between you two. His hands find their way to your waist just like they used to. After a couple of moments you pull away.

“I’m not letting you go this time,” he says.

“I’m not going anywhere this time,” you return. You fall against his frame. Your arms coming around his middle in a hug. Jungsu happily wraps his arms around you, keeping you close to him.

Taglist: @purplelady85 @odesonnets @gingerjunhan @chewednails @ezlynkisses @mon2sunjinsuver @mxlly143

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh jungsu #xdh jungsu #kim jungsu x reader #jungsu x reader #kim jungsu #jungsu

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flowercrowngods · 1 year

Note

I saw you're taking prompts and tagged it as Clarkson so ngl i immediately went feral bc i love your writing so much!!! Anything clarkson would make me sooo happy, but i especially love the way you write more introspective scenes so maybe something with soft vibes, maybe some hurt/comfort or healing from past trauma together? (I hope that's not too vague, if you were looking for actual scene prompts I'd be happy to come up with something more specific) i hope you'l have a good weekend ❤️❤️

thank you so much for the prompt darling! here’s some clarkson hurt/comfort for you with just a dash of steddie because i particularly love these four together 🥰🤍 this kinda ran away from me and it’s probably all over the place

in which wayne has a flashback nightmare and scott calls eddie and steve for help

🤍 also on ao3

It’s a whimper that wakes Scott, and it takes him a moment to realise where he is — but the dark shadow of Wayne sitting up in bed beside him reassures him for a moment. A dream, surely. His dream woke him, even though he doesn’t remember anything.

But then there’s another whimper, followed by what can only be described as a sniffle. It breaks something inside Scott even before he realises what’s happening. As his eyes adjust to the dark, he makes out Wayne’s form where he’s hunched over, the blanket still around him like a protective shield, his face hidden in his hands. His breathing is unsteady, more like little gasps, suppressed in the pale shadow of a breathing exercise.

He’s never seen Wayne like this. He gets nightmares quite frequently, but he usually gets up for some fresh air and a cigarette, maybe a coffee if he decides to give up on the night. But never before has Scott witnessed him in such a state that screams of heartache and badly suppressed panic.

It’s a lonely vision that tears apart his insides, and it’s what makes him reach out before he can think better of it. Wayne flinches away from him and gasps as another wave of years seems to come over him.

“You’re safe,” is the first thing Scott says, the first thing that comes to mind, the first thing Wayne needs him to say sometimes.

Tonight, though, it only elicits another whimper.

“What do you need?“ he whispers. Not What’s wrong? Not Talk to me.

It takes Wayne a few attempts and Scott watches, panic threatening to rise inside him and join Wayne if only so he won’t have to be alone — as little sense as that makes. The last thing Wayne needs right now is a frantic Scott. So he breathes. Watches as Wayne struggles through his words and the lump in his throat.

“Eddie,” he gasps eventually. “Ed, tell me… Where’s Eddie? I should have— He didn’t do it. He didn’t kill the girl. I should have been there, I should have… I’m sorry, Ed.”

It tears Scott apart to see him like this, lost and stuck somewhere between the nightmare in his head and the nightmares of the past, and there’s nothing Scott can do about it. He remembers it well, though he has the privilege of being oblivious to everything, the privilege of no nightmares, the privilege of staying present and alert when a light flickers or a police car drives past.

“He’s okay, Wayne. It was a nightmare, my dear. Eddie is fine. Your nephew is at Steve’s. Steve Harrington. It’s been a year, Wayne, beloved. It’s been a year, he is doing great. Come back to me, darling. It’s fine, there’s no nightmare here, just me. Just me, Wayne. It’s safe, everyone’s safe. I promise.”

Another whimper and then Wayne hunches over even more. Helplessness spreads inside Scott, feeling like surely this is his nightmare now. Grief and guilt and panic and sadness are coming off Wayne in waves, and it chokes him up. He’s not good at this, placating people, talking them down. He never quite knows what to say, what to do, what to make with his voice.

An idea comes to him then, and he hopes that the boys will forgive him for calling at… 3:28 a.m.

He gets out of bed and whispers, “Don’t leave again, my love, I’ll be right back. It’s safe, I promise, it’s safe.”

Wayne doesn’t react and Scott has to physically keep himself from reaching for him again. His pulse is quicker than it should be, his thoughts are racing, and he really is beginning to be quite frantic. Taking a deep breath, he goes out into the living are, making sure to leave the door open so Wayne can hear him — and so he can hear him.

“Steve here,” comes a very familiar voice through the phone after just one ring, and Scott breathes a sigh of relief.

“Steve, it’s Scott. I’m terrible sorry to wake you, but—“

“You didn’t, we’re awake. What’s wrong?”

Scott closes his eyes and wills his heart to calm down. Everything’s going to be fine. “It’s Wayne, he’s… He had a nightmare, I think. About Eddie. Thinks it’s ‘86 again and Eddie is missing, presumed dead, and I can’t get him… I can’t get through to him.”

There’s some shuffling on the other end and then there’s another voice talking to him. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes, Mr Clarke.”

“Ten.” That’s Steve in the background.

“Ten minutes,” Eddie amends, and Scott kind of wants to cry. It doesn’t make sense. But neither does anything that happened to these people, so he’ll cut himself some slack. “Do you… Can you, uh, can you put on some music? Quiet, just to, uh, to bring him back? There’s this tape, Aftermath by the Stones. Rolling Stones. It’s black with blue writing and all their faces, it should be there somewhere. We used to listen to it every night after… everything. It should be enough until we’re there, okay?”

“Yeah,” he nods, already looking around for a black tape. “Yeah, I’ll find it. Thanks, boys, I don’t— I didn’t know what to do.”

More shuffling, then Steve is back again. “You did right, calling us. We’ll be there. Oh, and can you make coffee?”

He frowns. “Do you really think it’s a good idea for him to—“

“Oh, the coffee is for us. It’s gonna be a long night. Already has been.” He sounds weary and tired and Scott has to remind himself that the boy is only twenty and shouldn’t sound like that.

“Alright, coffee coming right up.”

“Thanks. We’ll, uh, we’ll leave now.” Steve says, sounding rushed. “Eddie, babe, I’m gonna need you to be calm, okay? Everyone’s safe, it’s gonna be fi—“

And then the line dies. Scott takes a second to listen to the incessant peep of the dial tone, gathering himself, before going on the mission of finding the tape and making coffee before returning into the bedroom just to be there even though he feels useless.

Eight minutes later, a car pulls up outside and Scott sighs in relief. Wayne is leaning against him now, still not talking, still crying silently, absently, but he’s coming back.

Within moments, another shadow appears in the doorway to the bedroom and Scott looks up to see a rather crazed looking Eddie. He can empathise.

“Hey, uncle Wayne,” the kid says in so gentle a voice that it makes Scott feel out of place. “Guess who it is, your favourite nephew in the whole wide world, who is very alive and extremely safe.” It’s said with a smile, but the teasing falls flat right along with Eddie’s heart, obvious in the way his voice wavers. There’s a shaky smile on Eddie’s face as he sits on the bed, taking Scott’s place, who takes this moment to leave the Munson men alone. Eddie’s pressing his forehead to Wayne’s, cradling his cheeks and speaking softly, gently, tenderly.

Scott almost flees the room. He’s too out of place in their moment.

He closes the bedroom door gently and a silently as he can, and is met with The Rolling Stones and Steve, cup of coffee already in his hand. They share a glance and it occurs to Scott that this is the closest he’s ever come to whatever trauma lies behind this boy’s eyes, the one that is reflected in Eddie’s and in the shadow that overcomes Wayne’s face sometimes.

“Hello,” he says at last, because what do you even say to someone who’s seen horrors unimaginable, leaning against the kitchen counter with a mug of coffee like that’s just life catching up around 4am.

Steve smiles and hands over the coffee he already prepared for Scott — black, two sugars. Oddly enough, that’s what does it for him. The alienation and obliviousness on the one hand, juxtaposed by and met with a gesture so simple as a cup of coffee just the way he likes it.

His shoulders fall and he joins Steve, who shuffles over a bit to make space for him.

“It’s been a year,” Steve says.

Scott looks at him, waiting for him to continue — something he’s learned around these three. They’ll continue or they won’t, but questions don’t really work. Not with this thing.

“Since… Since Chrissy. Few days later, Eddie almost died. Was presumed dead. It’s. It’s been a year, today. Tonight.” The boy sighs and Scott finds his insides torn apart once more.

“Is that why you were awake? The anniversary keep you up?”

Steve nods, his eyes somewhere far away as he takes another sip of his coffee. Into his mug he mutters something Scott is sure isn’t meant for his ears, but he can’t help but overhear something that will haunt him for a while.

“It’s always some kind of anniversary ‘round here.”

The thing is, Steve told him. Well, he and Eddie did, but the Munson boy’s mind had shut off from the conversation quickly, and Steve is the only one who can tell the story from the beginning. And Scott is not sure if he can believe it. He wants to, and emotionally, he does. But he has to treat it as a story, otherwise his mind would quickly join those lost.

“I’m really sorry.” He doesn’t know what for. For calling. For the horrors they’ve seen. For the nightmares everyone gets. For the faraway stare in Steve’s eyes. For the waver in Eddie’s voice.

Steve looks at him for a moment, then nods towards the front door. “Let’s go outside for a moment, yeah?”

Scott hesitates, looking back toward the still closed bedroom door, before giving in with a sigh. Nothing he can do. Eddie is better at this than him anyway.

The fresh air helps and he breathes a little easier. Steve smiles when he notices, leaning against the wall behind him. He’s always been a smart one, that boy, much better at the matters of heart than those of science, unfortunately, but Scott appreciates it now.

“Listen, half of Hawkins calls me in the middle of the night sometimes,” Steve continues. “Tonight it’s Wayne, last week it was Dustin. Woke up from a nightmare, needing to talk to Eddie. Robin spends every other night at my house because when she wakes, she won’t remember immediately if I’m still there.”

Steve sighs and shakes his head, meeting Scott’s eyes with an almost helpless look. Resignation, he thinks. The aftermath of terrible things are still terrible things.

“You call, okay? Whatever it is, whatever you or Wayne need. Whatever the clock says, whatever… Call. Like you did tonight. Sometimes that’s all we can do. You did the right thing.”

It doesn’t feel like the right thing when it makes the circles under Steve’s eyes so dark or his shoulders slump so much.

“You shouldn’t have to do that.”

The boy scoffs, looking up at the night sky. “Yeah, well, it’s a bit late for that. Besides, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for this man.” Their eyes meet again. “He’ll be fine.”

They talk more and Steve asks him a lot of questions, wanting to know how Scott’s doing with all this, with the trauma, the nightmares, this thing that haunts everyone but him.

“I don’t understand it,” he admits at some point. “How could I? But I understand the implications, I see the way the three of you and some kids at school behave, I see the haunted looks, and all I can do is be here. So I’m here.”

Steve hums. “Yeah, that’s what we do.”

Scott anticipates more questions or some kind of reaction; but then the front door opens and a tired, teary-eyed Eddie steps outside. He immediately goes to wrap himself around Steve, leaning against him, trusting that the wall will hold both of them.

Steve doesn’t move, just wraps his arms around Eddie, carefully balancing the coffee behind his back.

“You okay?” he whispers.

Eddie shakes his head, burrowing into him further, and Steve brushes fluttering kisses all over the side of his face. Scott doesn’t mean to watch them, but seeing them so affectionate, so comforting, it wakes an ache inside him. Something that’s buried deep inside him, because as much as he loves to hold Wayne or brush a kiss to his lips, his cheek, his forehead, he’s never felt quite brave enough to do just that. Only that. The way Steve and Eddie are doing right now.

There are too many years behind him, the weight on his chest too heavy, his feet never as stable and steady as he wishes for them to be. Being affectionate with a man, with Wayne, is something that still leaves him reeling sometimes. Wrong-footed, with nowhere to find out, no one to ask.

But watching the boys, it makes him brave. Gives him something to mirror, something to copy, something to learn and teach himself.

Swallowing, he heads back inside, needing to look out for Wayne, to see if he’s fine, to reassure himself that everything is as alright as it can be.

In the living room, Wayne looks up immediately and his face crumbles a little at whatever he sees on Scott’s face, his arms lifting as if asking for a hug. It’s not a gesture he’d ever have connected with Wayne, but that doesn’t matter when it’s past four in the morning and the kitchen smells like coffee and nightmares.

He hugs his man tightly, cradling the back of his head gently.

“Don’t apologise,” he whispers into Wayne’s neck. “Just don’t.”

“Okay,” his love whispers back. “I will tomorrow, though.”

“That’s fine,” Scott says, smiling and feeling his eyes begin to sting. He holds Wayne a bit tighter. “Are you feeling okay?”

After hesitating a moment too long, Wayne shakes his head no. “Better though. Don’t, uh. Don’t let go?”

“Never.”

Moments of silence pass like that, just standing there, holding each other. Bravery in the early morning hours.

“Thanks for calling my boys,” Wayne breaks the silence after a while.

“Of course,” Scott whispers, daring to brush a kiss to Wayne’s brow. Remembering the way Steve held Eddie and showered him in affection, Scott dares. He dares to follow that kiss up with another, to his temple this time, and another to his forehead. They’re nothing like the quick butterfly kisses he just witnessed, no. They’re slow. Hesitant in their approach and determined in their message.

I’m here. You’re here. We’re safe.

Wayne doesn’t move, but Scott can feel his breath hitch a little. It makes him smile. He pulls back a little, pressing their foreheads together.

“Thank you,” Wayne whispers.

“For what?”

“Bein’ here. Staying. Everything.”

“I’ll stay as long as you’ll have me.”

And he means it. Through the nightmares, through the haunted silences, through spontaneous trips to see Eddie, through late night phone calls to make sure the present is unchanged. Through it all, he will stay. He will learn how to make Wayne smile after a nightmare just like he’ll learn how to make his coffee after work. He’ll learn about his relationship with Eddie just like he’ll learn about the way he prefers his sandwiches or his favourite songs and movies.

He’ll learn. It’s the thing he does best. And he’ll be patient, he’ll grow braver by the day.

Right now, though, he only holds his man and dares to move his thumb along his cheek in a gentle caress, feeling the stubble under his fingertips like his own personal reminder that everything will be just fine.

Steve and Eddie stay the night, Eddie sharing the bed with Wayne while Scott takes the couch and Steve stays awake. Scott wants to protest but Steve shuts him off with a smile and the promise that he’ll wake him if anything changes.

It must be another terrible thing, the way this boy puts himself last — but that’s something Scott can learn another day. Right now, he listens for the gentle laughter coming from the bedroom, the door cracked open, and smiles when Wayne lets out an exasperated, “Fredward Munson, it’s five o’clock in the morning, for the love of God, shut the fuck up and let me sleep.”

Eddie cackles and answers something Scott can’t quite make out. Soon after, silence settles over the trailer and Scott falls asleep, feeling oddly safe with Steve watching over them, as though it’s his personal mission to fend off the nightmares himself.

He makes a mental note to make the boy more coffee in the morning.

#clarkson #steddie #scott clarke #wayne munson #wayne munson x scott clarke #scott clarke x wayne munson #god this probably doesn’t make sense and it’s not even soft?? only just remembered you wanted soft vibes whoops?? sorry my friend 😬🤍#but uh i tried #first story on my new phone eyooo #dio words

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panandinpain0 · 9 months

Note

Oh yeah one more (again, a problem is showing 💀) remember when I asked abt songfics? While not rlly a songfic, could I get one where it’s (tom holland’s) Peter Parker x Male Reader inspired by Jet Lag by Simple Plan and Natasha Bedingfielf (stan Nat Bedingfield) where Peter is abroad on a long mission and y/n is just stuck at home rebuilding the death star with Ned, but they really miss each other a buttload

Time Difference

Shuuuttt upppp- I'd never heard of this song before but I listened to it and have so many ideas for this fic- I'm in love.

I haven't done many songfics so I hope I didn't format this weird or anything-

I'm considering this as like a part 2 of Roses- established relationship and all that.

I skip a view verses just because they don't work with the story- but the bulk of the song is included!

BOLD is (Y/N)'s texts and normal are Peter's.

@@@

Requested by: @mailmango

Peter Parker x Male!Reader

---

Hugging each other tightly, Peter kissed (Y/N) as they said goodbye. Peter was about to go on a mission abroad, but as far as (Y/N) knew it was just a trip for his internship to meet some amazing scientists and engineers in Europe.

He'd be gone for three weeks- which was far too long for teenagers in a relationship. But off he flew, and (Y/N) went back home, waiting for the text that he had landed.

What time is it where you are? I miss you more than anything

Peter hung upside-down from the hotel ceiling, something he often did when feeling anxious. Other than a dim lamp in the corner, his phone was the only light in the room, shining a blue light over his face.

He smiled a bit at one of (Y/N)'s texts, before sending one back. They would usually be on FaceTime but this was their way of acting like they were going to bed even though they weren't.

"What time is it for you?"

"early"

Peter rolled his eyes with a smile.

"You need to get ready for school."

"and you need to be getting some sleep!"

He could imagine the exact look (Y/N) was making with his face, sad that he couldn't be there to see it in person.

Instead of hitting the FaceTime button like he wanted so badly to do, he just said what he was feeling.

"I miss you"

"i miss you more 🫶"

I'm back at home, you feel so far Waiting for the phone to ring

(Y/N) was over at Ned's house, supposedly studying. In reality all he was doing was nervously glancing at his phone every few seconds.

"Why can't you call him, again?" Ned asked for the hundredth time, sick of his friend not paying attention.

"Because he might be at some important meeting! Or he might be asleep, I don't know- this time difference is screwing me up." (Y/N) bit his nail as he tried to focus on his work again.

He felt bad for treating Ned like this, but he didn't always do this. He just hadn't gotten the call that he usually got around lunch time so now he was anxious.

Picking up his phone he sent Peter a quick text message.

"i'll call you before i go to bed- stay safe and keep having fun!"

Biting his lip he shook his head after it sent, putting his phone down and looking at his notebook. It felt like Peter was a whole planet away, not just an ocean.

When Peter finally saw the text message he wanted to kick himself.

"Kid, come on, we've got to get you some first aid," Tony insisted, trying to get Peter to follow him. They'd just finished fighting and they were both roughed up.

Tony knew the second he got his hands on his phone, Peter wouldn't be available anymore (and would likely ignore his injuries to make sure his boyfriend was okay first).

"I'm so sorry (Y/N), we can definitely call tonight- emergency meeting happened before I was able to call :("

The reply was instant.

"dw babe, i can wait <3 it may come as a surprise to you but i can be very patient"

It's getting lonely living upside down I don't even wanna be in this town Tryna figure out the timezone's making me crazy

When Peter wasn't nervously hanging upside down like a bat on his ceiling, he was adventuring the cities he went to with his fellow Avengers (well- eventually fellow Avengers he hoped).

But everywhere he went he was reminded of (Y/N), things to buy him or pictures to send him- all he wanted to do was be with (Y/N).

Cuddling, watching a movie- and he missed his friends too. As he fell asleep one night he thought about a movie night with (Y/N), Ned, and MJ- or sitting at lunch with them.

Not to mention the time difference was throwing both boyfriend's out of wack-

You say goodmorning when it's midnight Going out of my head, alone in this bed

Peter lay in his bed, wide awake despite the late hour. He didn't often sleep with (Y/N), no matter how many times he wanted to web over to his house after patrol. (Y/N) didn't know about Spider-Man yet, and Peter didn't know when he'd tell him.

But they'd often fall asleep together during hang outs. They'd stay up all night texting/calling and then snuggle together in person- and it'd been two weeks without that.

Peter was feeling alone in the big empty hotel bed.

Suddenly his phone went off and he picked it up.

"morning babe! got coffee and thought of you <3" (Y/N) sent with an attached picture of him at the coffee shop they would frequent together.

Peter sent back a picture of him (it was obvious he had to use the flash of his phone because of the dark of the room) holding a thumbs up with a tired smile.

"Can't wait to go there together when I get back!"

I wake up to your sunset It's driving me mad, I miss you so bad

The couple always sent pictures of the sky to each other, even when Peter was in Queens with (Y/N).

(Y/N) had become lonely, even with his near constant contact with Peter. He missed holding him, his hand. Kissing him.

So he went up to the roof of his apartment building, where he and Peter would relax together often.

He didn't want to cry- it's not like Peter was off at war. He was safe with Mr. Stark and his security team, having fun. He should feel happy for Peter, but he felt like Peter hadn't told him the whole truth about the trip.

Regardless, he took a picture of the sunset he'd been watching and sent it to Peter with a text;

"wanted to share my sunset with you. i can't wait for you to come home"

He wanted to add an "I love you" but decided against it. They hadn't said it yet and that'd be a pretty shitty way to start saying it.

Maybe when he gets back (Y/N) will tell him.

The first thing Peter did when he opened his eyes was reach for his phone- as he had the entire trip. That was the text he woke up to- sent only ten minutes ago.

Standing up from his bed he opened the windows, looking out at the city they were in. The sun was still rising, so he took a picture of it and sent it back.

"My sunrise to your sunset. Poetic, if you ask me"

And my heart-heart-heart is so jet lagged Heart-heart-heart is so jet lagged Heart-heart-heart is so jet lagged Is so jet lagged

What time is it where you are? Five more days and I'll be home

"Only five more days!" (Y/N) announced as he opened the door to his room, going straight to his calendar to mark it off.

Ned and MJ, who had followed behind him, dropped their backpacks and found a place to study.

"Then you'll finally be tolerable again," MJ muttered, clicking her pen as she waited for (Y/N) to sit down with them.

"Oh no, they'll be worse together. I say at least a week of constant PDA and love-sick phrases," Ned corrected, nodding assuredly.

(Y/N) basically jumped out of his skin as his phone went off, quickly pulling it out of his pocket.

"Five more days <3"

Smiling brightly, (Y/N) texted back.

"five more days!"

MJ groaned as she thought about Ned's response and kicked (Y/N) in the shin.

"Ow!"

"Get your ass out of the clouds and help me with my calc homework," MJ ordered with a glare.

Rolling his eyes (Y/N) joined them on the floor, pulling out his stuff.

"You can't tell me you're not excited for Peter to be back," (Y/N) said towards Ned, glancing up at him.

"I am- or I will be, once he's back for at least a week. I'm counting it as four weeks because he'll only get out of the clouds, as MJ said, after a week of you."

"It won't be like that guys, I promise. We can be in a relationship and still be present with our friends!" (Y/N) protested, opening MJ's calculus book.

Ned and MJ shared a look, doubtful. (Y/N) saw and became even more determined to not hoard Peter all to himself when he got back.

I been keeping busy all the time Just to try to keep you off my mind

The next few days were unbearable for (Y/N)- well, for Peter too, but those last days were packed with fighting so he was distracted.

Desperately trying to find things to keep his mind off Peter, he decided to rebuild the Lego death star with Ned (who just wanted to make sure his friend was okay).

It worked for a while, and when they finished it was late- but he still had two days to wait for Peter to come home.

Ned went back to his house with a joyful goodbye- over the last couple of weeks the one-on-one time he had with (Y/N) was usually filled with talking about Peter, but he got a few gems like tonight out of it.

Reading books, painting with MJ, doing puzzles with Aunt May- none of it helped (Y/N) much.

So agony was what was left for the next few days.

I miss you so bad (I miss you so bad) I miss you so bad (I miss you so bad) I miss you so bad (I wanna share your horizon) I miss you so bad (And see the same sun rising) I miss you so bad (And turn the hour back to when you were holding me)

(Y/N) stood with Aunt May and his friends in May's apartment, rocking on the balls of his feet anxiously. Peter had taken Mr. Stark's private jet and he said that Happy would be driving him to the apartment.

A little welcoming party was set up; cake, his favorite dinner, his favorite movie ready to be booted up. Now all that was left was Peter.

The door swung open and once (Y/N) saw his face, he held himself back from launching into his arms.

Aunt May greeted him first, inspecting his face (which was covered in cuts and bruises). (Y/N) was taken aback- what happened in Europe?

When the shock wore off and May was finished greeting him, Peter pulled (Y/N) into a hug as he got close enough.

They rocked back and forth, Peter smiling from ear to ear and (Y/N) frowning with concern.

"Are you okay? What happened?" (Y/N) whispered into his ear, running a hand through the back of his hair.

"I'll explain everything later, I promise."

(Y/N) was okay with that- as long as he got an explanation later. He let the worry go for a second to pull back and give Peter a peck on the lips. He was gonna tell him-

"I missed you."

He chickened out.

"I missed you too," Peter whispered back.

"Promise we'll talk later?"

"Promise."

Hardly separating the whole night, the boys ate dinner with their small family- and enjoyed themselves the whole time.

The heavier topics could be saved for later, because now was the time to be happy that they were together again.

---

Whatdya think? I think this one was pretty good.

Hope this was good mango!

-Author Max <3

#fanfiction #x reader #fluff #x he/him reader #x male!reader #avengers fandom #peter parker x male!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker x male reader #peter parker #tom holland peter parker #avengers x male!reader #avengers masterlist

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stationintern · 3 months

Text

Rêverie

Draco Malfoy spends an afternoon ruminating on first meetings, vengeful houses, and moments spent twirling a landline cord. This fic is inspired by Bless The Telephone by Labi Siffre.

When Scorpius only measured up to Draco’s waist, he’d climb up onto the left side of the piano bench and situate himself next to his father.

Those stubby fingers would run over the keys in a childish imitation of Draco’s years of practice, and soon, a cacophony of chaos would drift throughout the house, filling every room with its imperfections. Pansy said, while they were expecting Scorpius, that Draco would get tired of the noise after a while. In truth, the opposite happened– he was tired of it from day one. Every day after was spent learning to love it.

Now, he’s learning to miss it.

During long sessions of ruminating on life, replaying old memories like slideshows in his mind, Draco likes to play Rêverie.

His muscles do the unconscious work while he, once again, wonders why Scorpius had to study in the states, of all bloody places. He’d promised that it had nothing to do with being across an ocean from his parents, but said parents had their doubts, and despite all of Scorpius’ protests, feelings of failure and pride still battled it out in their hearts. Failure, because their only son wanted to go somewhere so removed from them. And pride, because he had the desire to explore, to learn.

So, missing his son as the battle rages, Draco plays alone.

His childhood tutor had been stern and critical, hampering any growing love for the instrument he could have had. It took years, once he reached adulthood, before he finally sat himself down in front of one again– before he learned to let the music move him, instead of forcing it to move for him.

It fills his empty house with melody, and though it’s comforting in its own way, Draco yearns for the harmony of Scorpius’ chaos.

Though, chaos still comes in a new form today, as a repetitive ringing from the kitchen cuts his playing off mid-chord.

The old landline has stuck around, a reminder of a time when cell phones spontaneously exploded in the hands of wizards– more than a minor safety hazard. Once the technology was adapted for use around magic, they kept it for the sake of nostalgia. It kept them off their cell phones unless absolutely necessary, and there’s something sweet about wrapping a phone cord around your finger while you lean against the wall, chatting with someone you love. It keeps you in place, devotes you to the conversation at hand.

Cell phones are the norm now, and only one person calls the landline number anymore.

“Malfoy-Potter residence,” Draco says, because old habits become inside jokes sometimes.

“Very formal,” Harry’s low chuckle crawls through the crackling line, “Hello, love.”

“Hi, dear,” Draco replies, and his greeting comes out more as a sigh of relief than actual words.

“How are things with you?” Harry asks, and Draco wishes he had that kind of power– the ability to fill the empty pit in Draco’s stomach that forms when he’s by himself, to clear away all those meandering thoughts and replace them with a warm feeling of ease, all in a single line.

“I’m good. A bit lonely,” he admits, wrapping the phone cord around an idle finger, twirling it, “It’s nice to hear your voice. How’s the office?”

“Hectic,” Draco imagines Harry hunched over his desk, twirling a phone cord of his own while the office whirls around him, papers flying in the air, “Can’t talk long. Just wanted to tell you that I love you, and make sure you take a break from playing all those sad songs by yourself.”

“I love you, too… and they’re not sad songs.”

“Whatever you say. Chinese tonight?” The end of his sentence tips upwards with excitement– an excitement that Draco shares. Another long day coming to a close, spent in the company of one another.

“Sounds good. Love you.”

“Love you.”

With that, they hang up, and Draco’s loneliness creeps back in as the phone clicks back into place, but he knows that Harry’s words will ward it off for a few moments more. He’s developed a routine after these calls. He puts on a record– today, it’s All Things Must Pass– and turns it all the way up, until it can be heard from every corner of the house.

Then, he wanders.

Up the stairs and down the hallway, he peeks out onto the balcony to watch the cars pass for a bit, before turning back inside. The door stays open behind him, letting the morning breeze whisper life back into the stale hall where Scorpius’ room lies.

Pale blue walls surround him as he meanders, remembering the time spent renovating this house– the one they bought after Grimmauld Place began rejecting Scorpius.

It seemed the house was cruel enough to terrorize a five-year-old. First, there were bad dreams. Then, stairs that would melt the soles of his shoes. The whole ordeal proved too much when a bush in the garden tried to kidnap him, and neither Draco nor Harry thought holding onto a shitty, endlessly deteriorating heirloom could possibly be worth the lifelong trauma it would cause for their son.

They tried to move without feeling defeated, ejected. The townhouse in Balham became a fun project, and they’d done most of the renovations magic-free. It was a good lesson for Scorpius– that working with your hands could be just as fulfilling, if not more, than using magic– and a bit of a challenge for his parents.

The real problem with the move was timing.

Renovating a home was interesting and new, until they all got sick of sleeping on transfigured couches, living on takeout, and plumbing that only worked five out of seven days of the week. In January, they opened up the kitchen, then the entire first floor by June. Their migration throughout the house felt like a city expanding, creeping along the hills, building new bridges over rivers.

The last room they finished was the library, and, incidentally, it’s now Draco’s favorite room in the house– with oak shelves that touch the ceiling, squashy chairs, and the lantern they’ve affectionately named Tinkerbell that follows you around after dark.

Harry’s desk sits comfortably, in front of a window that overlooks the street below, with a familiar, faded photograph perched in its left side. Draco doesn’t need to crack open the frame to know what’s scrawled on the back in Harry’s chicken scratch.

Gutman Publishing House Christmas Party, 2003.

They’d just begun dating, still had a youthful glow about them, and didn’t yet know what it was like to be awoken in the middle of a night by a baby that actually belonged to them. Harry’s hand is resting on Draco’s lower back as he places a misfired kiss on his nose.

It all started a few months prior in a crowded, stuffy elevator.

They said nothing to one another, at the time. Harry had recently earned his own office, and it just so happened to be on the same floor as Draco’s editor, who was finalizing the edits on his first novel. Neither were aware they had business in the same building, since Harry handled children’s books, and Draco very much didn’t write those under a pseudonym– his novels were pretty much the opposite of children’s books.

The fifteen-story building handled the majority of wizarding publishing in the UK, so they blame their crossing of paths on fate.

Draco remembers what it felt like in that elevator, the oppressive heat that rose to his cheeks when he saw Harry, with his messy hair, skewed tie, and dark under-eyes, squished between two strangers. At the time, they both thought they had it all figured out, didn’t they? That they were on the cusp of become true adults. They were wrong, of course. They made the same false assumption after Scorpius was born, after they finished the house, and after countless other achievements that opened doors to new aspirations, new lessons.

They still haven’t figured everything out, but they’ve survived, and, more importantly, Scorpius seems to have turned out all right.

After that elevator, their office run-ins became more frequent, and Draco would admit– years later, drunk– that he’d pass by Harry’s office on purpose, despite his editor being on the opposite end of the floor. Awkwardness soon turned into a quiet truce, then almost-friendly nods, until one day, when Harry stopped Draco with a hand on his bicep and said:

“Hey, I got my hands on your manuscript.”

And Draco, ever so eloquent, replied:

“Oh.”

“Don’t ask how,” Harry continued, mildly frantic, “But, I just wanted to tell you that I liked it. A lot. I loved it, actually.”

And maybe it was the compliment, or the way Harry’s glasses were more than a little crooked, or that he openly admitted to reading Draco’s smut-filled novel to his face, but Draco fell for him right there. Not quite as hard as he eventually would, maybe just a trip-up of love. Still, it was a start.

It’s a bit funny. Draco always liked to imagine himself as an instigator, a charmer. But, Harry was the one who started every conversation, pressed through during the lengthier ones, despite the awkwardness or outright animosity. Harry was the one who, on a cloudy Thursday in September 2003, asked Draco if he’d like to get a coffee once he was done at the office for the day.

Draco agreed. That evening he waited, shivering– half from the chill, half from nerves– outside the building for half an hour, but lied to Harry and said he’d only just come back. They didn’t have much to say as they walked to the café, keeping a respectful distance between them as they traded pleasantries and comments about impending rain.

The tension broke when Draco did, as he awkwardly admitted in words that stumbled over each other that he actually didn’t drink coffee after dark, citing caffeine and trouble sleeping. Harry stopped his ramblings with a laugh, and told him he was smart. They got hot chocolate instead.

Warm cups turned cold, and the sky opened up, late, as if telling them to run on home. And run they did, sprinting through the onslaught back to Draco’s flat, ignoring Apparition and choosing romance instead. Harry took off his coat, held it high above their heads, as Draco told him that the gods were angry, that of course this would happen.

Harry said he didn’t care what the gods would think about them, and when he kissed Draco on the stoop, he tasted of peppermint and cocoa.

***

Harry gets home sometime around six, just to find Draco sitting on his piano bench, right where he’d left him that morning. He drops his hands on Draco’s shoulders and begins to knead.

“Have you been sitting here all day?”

Draco doesn’t stop his playing– he’s chosen something light, relaxing, and all for Harry after a long day of work. A love song, in its own way.

“No,” Draco leans back into his touch, rolls his shoulders, “I took a walk, read a bit. I always end up here, somehow.”

Harry drops a kiss to the top of Draco’s head, “Well, this song isn’t very sad.”

Draco lifts his fingers off the keys, shy, and cranes his neck to look at his husband, “It’s a love song.”

“A love song,” Harry repeats, and smiles– it’s broad, unencumbered by past pain, yet forged in darkness.

Draco nods, kisses the corner of his mouth.

“I’m very much in love with you,” he murmurs into the crease of Harry’s cheek.

Harry laughs and kisses him fully– once, twice, three times.

“I’m very much in love with you.”

“How was work?” Draco asks, rising from the piano bench, resting his hand on the small of Harry’s back as he throws his arm around Draco’s shoulders.

“Tiring. How was writing?”

They move towards the coat rack in tandem, easing into a familiar, practiced pre-dinner brief.

“Nonexistent.”

Harry chuckles, “You’ll get back into it soon. Jameson rejected the Garrison manuscript without consulting with Faulkner.”

“No,” Draco gasps, disentangling from Harry to wrestle his arms into a coat.

“I’m serious. You wouldn’t believe…”

They slip into the street, where the rain is light, and the sun has just set over the horizon, and Harry tells him all about how Faulkner reacted, and Draco tells him that maybe they should just take a trip to the states to see what Scorpius’ fuss is all about. The loneliness ebbs, though Draco knows it will flow again someday.

But, none of that really matters, because Harry’s there to poke him in the side, there to say, in a voice so soft and low, “Draco,” and bring him back from his wandering thoughts.

Harry’s there, and just a word or two from him, or a quiet night spent eating Chinese, has always been more than enough.

If you feel up to it, I'd love to hear your thoughts over on ao3.

#drarry #draco x harry #self rec #drarry shortfic

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erenlluvrr · 2 years

Text

neglect

you finally want to divorce your arranged contracted husband who’s nothing but cold towards you. what happens when emotions get the best of you when you finally confront him about it?

recommend song !!

you layed on your bed, staring blankly at the ceiling as tears freely flowed out of your eyes. it was dark in your room, only the moonlight peering through the cracks of curtains, nothing but emptiness and eeriness surrounding you, at least that's what it felt like to you.

how hard you tried to please him, care for him, love him, it just wasn't enough for him to even look at you with any hint likeliness. wishing he would understand that you also had no choice in this marriage either, wishing he knew how much you cried in front of your grandparents house for days begging them to not have you marry him, wishing you'd have someone sympathize with you.

'you've had your life set up for you the moment you were born y/n, you got to marry into an opulent family, be grateful.' was words that stung you too much to even think about, but yet you couldn't help but ask yourself, i didn't ask for any of this? i didn't ask for anyone to plan my life, i didn't ask to marry, i didn't ask for anything?

why am i forced into doing things that benefit them? why cant i do things to benefit myself? was all you thought about since the moment you walked down the aisle towards eren. how miserable you've been since then. how neglected you felt not only by him, but by your family who thinks you're fine as long as you're under the care of eren yeager.

yes you lived in a nice house, you could have anything you wanted, you were greatly taken care of by the housekeepers. and it wasn't that you were ungrateful, god you were so happy to at least know someone cared for you even if it was their job to do just that.

but you wished there was someone who genuinely cared for you. someone altruistic. someone who would care for you because they genuinely did care for you, not because it was apart of their job. all you wanted was love from someone, real love.

stuck inside a place that didn't even felt like home, more like a prison. if only you knew the eyes of pity the housekeepers would look at you from afar, how sad you looked everyday, how lonely you looked.

''it must suck to be stuck inside all day.'

'mr yeager never takes her out.'

'he doesn't even check up on how she's doing, all he does is stay in his office all day working.'

'they don't even look like a married couple, just some housemates that don't speak'

it's been a year since you guys got married. eren despises you. to him, you were someone who took his everything away. his everything being the person he loved. after finding out he had to marry you, he was forced to end things with his girlfriend, he had no choice, just how you had no choice but to marry him as well. but why couldn't he realize that you didn't have a choice either? why is this all your fault? why is the blame all on you?

no matter how hard you tried to get along with him, it never worked? just another one of those empty nights in your room as you think about everything, leaving yourself with unanswered questions. tonight was the last straw with eren. you've had enough of being treated like you had no feelings. you were tired of feeling this way, so mentally drained. so done with feeling like the bad guy when you weren't.

standing up from your bed, you make your way to your desk. there you stared at the divorce files you had asked from your lawyer weeks before. you've wanted to divorce for months now, it wasn't until recently you actually had the courage to ask your lawyer about it, but you kept hush about wanting a divorce until you had the full courage to approach eren. and tonight was the night.

feeling your heart skip a beat, you were now filled with adrenaline as you grabbed the files and made your way downstairs towards erens office.

god, how much eren hated when you would come to his office. he would kick you out the second you would step in, heck he probably set up a camera in front of his office to make sure you don't even pass the fucking room for all you know.

you stood there for some seconds before barging into his office. he was on the phone, looking serious as always. "y/n? i'm on a call right now-" cutting him off you threw the files onto his desk.

"i want a divorce." you said breathily. "what?" he furrowed his brows, looking down at the papers. you only stared at him, waiting for him to say something. hanging up the phone, he looks at it for a spare second before turning back to you.

"don't play around with me y/n." you were filled with anger. all the sadness and hurt bottled up into you turned into pure anger. "why would i play around eren? i want a divorce."

pushing the files away from him, he runs his hands threw his hair. he looked up with a smirk as he scoffed. "divorce you? if we were able to do that, i would've been asked for one long ago. do you think it's that easy to divorce with the agreement betwe-" "i don't .. care!" you cut him off, as your eyes began to fill in with tears. "i want a divorce. i want it now."

he then stands up, ready to escalate with you. "you can't fucking divorce me y/n," you stayed silent, trying so hard to stay content, trying to hold yourself together. "this isn't something we can just do easily, did you forget this was an contract marriage?,"he paused "didn't you also wanted to marry me?, you got wanted what you wanted, so why do you want a divorce? shouldn't you be happy about this fucking contract?"

"i don't care about that stupid contract! who said i wanted to marry you!? did you think i wanted to marry you? you didn't want this marriage, but did you think i wanted to do this as well?" you screamed, as tears begin flowing out.

"do you not realize that i didn't have a choice but to marry you either eren? you treat me as if i'm someone who doesn't have feelings! i'm so tired of you pinning shit onto me, if you want to be mad at someone it shouldn't be me! because i didn't want to fucking marry you either," the burning sensation in your throat as you sobbed was making it hard for you to talk more yet you had to make sure you got everything out.

"i cried outside my grandparents house for days, begging on my knees to not marry you, hell i even tried running away," you paused and stared at him directly in the eye, making sure he knew how hurt you were feeling. "i'm tired of being neglected, tired of feeling neglected. i tried so hard to please you everyday, i tried so hard to get along with you, yet all i was ever given was the cold shoulder. cant you see that i've been trying this whole time?!"

"i hate you! i have you so much! i hate being here, i hate living here, i hate that i am married to someone as cold as you!" you sobbed out, every emotion you held in was finally taking control over you as you couldn't control anything you were saying. "you're not happy? i'm not fucking happy either! so if you could fucking agree to this, then we'd finally be happy again right?" you splurged out.

eren and you both then stared at each other intensely as tears uncontrollably streamed down your face. he had no words to say, seeing how hurt you were and how you were finally expressing it stunned him. he couldn't help but feel instant guilt as he stared at your shattered figure, breathlessly crying.

he was so blinded by his own anger, so selfish that he turned a blind eye to how you felt about the situation as well. why did it take for you to express how you felt for him to finally realize that any of this wasn't your fault? he couldn't help but feel stupid at that very moment, all the memories of how he treated you all came flooding to his mind at once.

all he did was just stand there in silence and look at you. you couldn't help but grow even angrier at his silence. you just poured your heart out and now he's at lost of words? when every single time you had something to say, he was always quick to reply, but now he has nothing to say?

"i fucking hate you eren." was the last thing you said before you stormed out the room in tears before making your way out of the house. the last thing you wanted in that very moment was to be anywhere near his existence.

"ms y/n- it's late- where are you going?" brushing away your tears you hastily put on your coat, grabbing your keys and bag without saying a word. nobody wanted to stop you, not after hearing the blow out you just had with eren, they're sure you needed a breather.

you don't know where you were going. all you knew was you wanted to go as far as possible from that hell of a place. you drove and drove until you found yourself at a friends house. you hadn't told her about anything yet, so i'm sure you appearing on her front porch suprised her to say the most.

opening the door, her immediate expression turns into concern as she sees your crying figure. immediately pulling you inside, she sits you down, running to grab some water and tissues.

seeing how distraught you were, she didn't want to pry. so she welcomed you with open arms, allowing you to cry into her arms for which felt like forever.

finally calming down, you begin to tell her everything. everything from the very start. she offered you stay at her place, you gladly agreed, staying there for weeks. within those weeks, you were sure everybody was looking for you. that night you left, you had left your cell phone, leaving them with nothing to contact you with.

as if you cared anyways, you didn't want them to know where you were at all, you finally felt free being away from eren, your family, and everything else. but you knew sooner or later you'd have to go back, afterall you can't run away from your problems.

"are you sure you don't want to stay for a couple more days?" she asked, watching you put on your shoes as you headed towards the door. "if i don't go home, how would my problems be solved? i think i did enough running away." you responded as you opened the door to leave.

"alright.. but if anything happens you can always come back here. i hope everything resolves, good luck my love." you turned around, embracing her before you greeted her goodbye. reversing out of the driveway, you mouthed 'love you' to her before driving away.

the unintentional break you spent away from everyone was refreshing. you felt at peace, you didn't feel nervous to go back, you felt content. maybe it was because you finally came to realize during your break away that nothing that happened was ever your fault, you stopped blaming yourself.

pulling into the drive way, you nonchalantly make your way back into the house. it was very silent, not a sight of anyone in the house. maybe everyone still sleeping? it was only 8am afterall.

quietly making your way towards your seperated room from eren, you dropped your keys down the stare, causing an echo through the house. “fuck” you whispered under your breath, running down the stairs to retreat them.

just as you were about to pick them up, a figure shadows over you, picking up the keys before you could even reach them. looking up, you’re met eyes with eren.

not wanting to be near him, you turn on your heels and begin to walk upstairs away from him. but he follows after you. “y/n,” he calls out, but you only ignored him. “y/n,” he remained calm despite you ignoring him. reaching your room, you reach to shut the door on him, but he holds his arm out, refraining you from shutting it, “y/n!” he says just a little bit louder.

“what?” you responded, irritation visibly heard in your tone. “where have you been? do you know how worried everyone is?!” he expressed angrily, furrowing his eyebrows, anticipating your response. “my being doesn’t concern you the last time i checked.”

“that’s not my point! you disappeared for three weeks with no way of reaching you! anything could’ve happened and we wouldn’t have known!” he hastily responds. blankly staring at him, you turn towards your bathroom, eren invites himself in, still trying to talk to you.

“y/n!” he grew visibly impatient. “i need you to talk to me, please i want to talk to you.” he pleads. will your back still turned towards him, you left out a sigh before facing him. “fine,”

sitting down at the dining table, you guys sat across from each other. eren looked at you directly, his eyes practically glued onto you.

“i’m sorry,” he started, “i’m a horrible person for how i treated you. my behavior towards you was unacceptable. the way i treated you was so unfair, not taking any of your feelings into consideration,” “i didn’t think about you in this situation, i turned a blind eye and only focused on how everything affected me, but i didn’t realize that it affected you as much as it affected me,” “i’m not asking for you to forgive me, i just want you know to how sorry i am. i’m sorry for how harsh i acted towards you, you didn’t deserve any of of that, because nothing was your fault, yet i blamed you for everything,” “all you wanted was to get along with me, but i pushed your efforts away because of my own feelings,”

“all i really wanted was for you to listen to me talk, now that i’ve said everything, you’re free to choose whatever you want to do know, i’m.. fine with any choice you make, to divorce, or to not divorce”

you swallowed the lump in your throat before speaking. “as much as i wish to forgive you, it’s going to take a lot of healing for me to recover from this,” you started to feel tears form as the burning sensation in your throat started to form.

“i just.. need space for now..”

“thank you for apologizing really, but i don’t think i can even stand to be here, with you, in this house,” you looked up at him.

“i still.. want the divorce.”

[no pt. 2, i like to write my oneshots with cliffhangers (: ]

#eren fic #eren fanfiction #eren angst #eren smut #eren fluff #eren x y/n #eren yeager x reader #eren x reader #eren x you #eren headcanons #Spotify

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