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tonberry-yoda · 1 year

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A Nice Girl - Zuko

Pairing - Zuko x f!reader

Warnings - none!!

Word Count - 3,211

Notes - I have been pumping out these really long fics lately lmaoooo. i dont mean to i just simply get carried away. i need to stop before i get a block tho lmao. AND IM ALMOST AT 400 FOLLOWERS OMG!!! im like so excited about it tbh. maybe ill open my request when we get there. thank you all and i hope you're all well. stay hydrated!!

You yawned and stretched, the silk from your nightgown tickling you. That had to have been the best sleep you have gotten these past couple of weeks. As the oldest in the “gaang” at 17 years old, you had to act as the mother of the group and felt this awful need to protect everyone all the time, thus granting you several sleepless nights.

Sure, Ba Sing Se didn't feel like home and it didn't feel 100% safe either, but you got to sleep in a comfy bed and wear some really nice clothes. You had to admit that it was nice to be working with the Avatar sometimes.

You pushed your tangled hair out of your face and looked into the full length mirror next to your bed. Yeah, you definitely slept well, that was no question. You could tell by the rat’s nest created on your head and the sleep lines across your arms and face. You definitely needed to wash up before you started your day.

You got out of bed, stretching as the sun kissed your warm cheeks. You were going to make the best out of today. Lots of planning, but lots of downtime too, so that was nice.

As you finally walked out of your room, you were welcomed to cackling laughter from Sokka, his finger pointed at you.

“Ha, ha,” you said sarcastically, Katara handing you a brush. “Very funny, Sokka.”

“Not just funny,” he said through laughter. “It’s hilarious, y/n! You look so stupid!!!”

You rolled your eyes, hiding a smile, and tamed the rat’s nest on your head, looking a little more yourself.

Aang walked in the house holding a bowl of snacks with a smile on his face. “Oh, good morning, y/n! You sure slept in this morning!”

“Slept in?” You tilted your head. “What time is it?”

Katara took the brush from you and set it down on a nearby drawer. “Almost 10 am.”

“What?!” You were shocked. You were usually the first one up always and if not, you never slept past 8.

Katara giggled. “Listen, y/n. I think it's great that you finally got some sleep. We never really see you rest well, so none of us had the heart to wake you up.”

You beamed. “You guys are the best. Well,” you stretched. “I'm gonna get washed up so I don't look like a sleepy monster all day.” Something about Ba Sing Se gave you the creeps, but at the same time, it was nice to be back in a place where you could bathe in warm water and not fear Zuko coming after you. It's not like you had anything against the Fire Nation prince… it's more like… he was an inconvenience to you and the rest of the gaang. Since you and Zuko were about the same age, you understood him. Well, kinda. You escaped the Fire Nation when you were younger, disagreeing with all of their ideals and overall how they treated the world. You did see the prince as Fire Nation scum, but at the same time, you saw him as a kid, just like you. He was banished for god knows what and he just wanted to go home. You didn't hate Zuko. Not one bit. You understood that he may just be in some sort of hidden pain. But you had to admit that it was kinda nice to not have him around to bother you.

You got out of the shower refreshed and ready for the day. It was nice to have a day off, so you were probably going to get some tea and write in your journal about how the past couple of weeks have been. You figured it would be nice to log everything that has ever happened on this little journey just in case you all wanted a refresher in the next twenty years or so. You slipped on some Earth Nation attire and smiled at yourself in the mirror as you braided your hair. Today is going to be a good day, you thought. Nothing better than tea and some late breakfast.

“I'm going out for the day,” you said, placing your bag on your shoulder. “Stay out of trouble today, got it?”

You looked at Aang and he laughed. “I will, I will! Have a nice day, okay, y/n? You deserve it.”

“You’re all too kind to me. Thank you.”

“And let me know if you find Appa!”

“I will, don't worry.”

You smiled and walked out of the house, smelling the fresh Earth Nation air. Luckily, the walls didn't cover the fresh air, so you could still get the almost afternoon breath.

You spent the beginning of the day walking around shops, buying some supplies and new clothes for yourself and the others. The markets were busy, but it was nice to get some of the things you needed without Aang begging for some stupid trinket that you always ended up buying him because you thought it was cool too. That was always your impulse, stupid things that Aang showed you. Those could be the death of you.

As you finally finished your browsing journey, you overheard a conversation while looking over a map.

“I swear their tea has gotten better.”

“Really? I dunno.”

“I'm serious. It has to be the best tea shop in Ba Sing Se.”

“Fine, we can go try it later.”

You turned to the two men a little embarrassed that you were eavesdropping. “S-Sorry, but I was kinda listening to your conversation… uh… where’s that tea shop you were talking about? I've been trying to find a nice place to get some tea all morning.”

The man hyping up the shop smiled at you. “Don't worry about eavesdropping, kiddo. It's right here.” He pointed to the map you were looking at and you were satisfied that it wasn't too far from where you currently were.

You thanked the man and began your journey to the shop. It was a little closer to afternoon and you could feel your stomach rumbling, so you just decided to skip right to lunch.

You walked into the tea shop and saw people smiling and laughing together, the heavenly scent of tea filling your senses. You were quickly seated at a lone booth and given a menu. Everything looked so good, you could swear that you were about to drool just thinking about food.

You decided to order something that the waitress recommended and as she walked away, you flipped through your journal, going over everything that you and the gaang had been through. You quietly laughed to yourself as you passed a page that said: note to self - slap Zuko’s bald head at least once. Imagine the sound that would make.

It’s definitely been a long trip of both laughter and struggle, and honestly, you were really happy. You don't remember the last time you had laughed so hard before you met Aang and the others. It was nice. Really nice.

“Here’s your tea. Is there anything else you need?” Your tea was set in front of you along with your lunch and you tilted your head at the familiar voice that wasn't your waitress from earlier. It was on the tip of your tongue.

“I think I'm alright, thank-” You looked up and the smile you had suddenly dropped. No way. “Zu-”

Before you could say his full name, Zuko covered your mouth and quickly let go, hoping no one saw or heard any of that. “P-Please don't.”

“But you’re-”

“I know,” Zuko’s voice was low. “Just… can we talk… in the back?”

You looked around the restaurant at all of the other people and back at Zuko. He looked so different. Barely recognizable. His face didn't look so pissed off and he had a short head of hair now that looked healthy. The only reason you recognized him was the scar, but honestly, if he covered it up somehow, you wouldn't have a clue that he was the prince of the Fire Nation.

You nodded and stood up, collecting your things. You followed Zuko to the back, almost a little scared. You had no means of defending yourself. You were a non bender, so if he wanted to pick a fight, you were screwed. You didn't even have a simple weapon on you. Maybe you were getting too cozy.

Zuko brushed off a small table and pulled out a chair for you, which you sat in with slight hesitation.

“How did you get into Ba Sing Se?” You didn't mean to sound so defensive. Well, you did, but you weren't expecting to. Especially not on such a good day like this.

“It's… a long story.”

“Why are you here?”

“Listen… It’s not for the Avatar.”

“Huh? Is that so?” You crossed your arms and looked him dead in the eye. “Then explain to me how you always end up where we just so happen to be. That’s suspicious, isn't it?”

“I-”

“If you hurt Aang, I swear to-”

“I don't care about Aang right now!”

The whole room went quiet. You had never heard Zuko say Aang’s name before, let alone not care about what the Avatar is doing.

“Then why…”

“I have my own stuff to deal with. It's none of your business, okay? I do have a life outside of the Avatar, you know.”

You nodded and looked down at your tea. “I'm… assuming your uncle made this?” You giggled softly.

“Yeah. He did.” Zuko’s voice was small and way less frustrated.

“So that’s why this tea shop has hype all of a sudden.” You wondered aloud, your eyes wandering to the ceiling.

Zuko cleared his throat and shuffled in his spot. “So… uh… what now?”

“Promise not to hurt Aang and I won't say a word about you being here. I believe that you have your own stuff to deal with, so prove it to me.”

“I promise.”

Your eyes locked with his and you smiled, shocking Zuko a bit. You smiled at him, the guy that’s been trying to hurt you and your friends this whole time. The guy who would’ve done anything for the Avatar to be in his hands.

“You probably hate me, don't you?” Zuko spat out, rubbing the back of his neck.

You tilted your head. “Hate’s a strong word, don't you think?”

Zuko looked at you, appalled. “I mean, I would understand if you did.”

“It's been a long road for you, hasn't it, Zuko?”

He nodded at you and you pointed to the other side of the table, just realizing that he was standing that entire time. “Let’s share some tea.”

“I-I don't know if that’s a good idea.” Zuko took a step back.

“Ah, I see,” you stood up, scooting your chair back in. “You’re a busy man with a job now.”

He just nodded at you.

“Well, I'll let you get to it then, but I expect to see you at 6 tonight ready to hang out, okay?”

“Wh-What?! Won't your friends notice that you’re gone?”

You just smiled, collecting your things. “Zuko, I do have a life outside of the Avatar, you know.”

Zuko’s face went bright red as you walked out of the room with a smirk on your face. It was actually kinda cute to see Zuko not being some evil kid with his heart set on hurting anyone.

“You’re leaving?” Sokka whined, watching you grab your bag.

“Yes Sokka,” you said for what seemed like the hundredth time. “I'm leaving. I just want to go get dinner out by myself tonight. Maybe go for a nice walk.”

“Aww man,” Sokka pouted, crossing his arms. “Who’s gonna make dinner now?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the smile creeping on your lips. “Sokka, I left some money on the table. You guys should go out and get something to eat tonight.”

“Why aren't you coming with us?” Sokka tilted his head, counting the money on the table.

“I just want to go out by myself tonight, that’s all.”

“So you’re just gonna have a lonely dinner all by yourself?” Sokka questioned, looking skeptical.

“Yes!”

“She’s lying.” Everyone turned to Toph and your face went bright red. You forgot she could tell if you were lying or not, and it definitely didn't help that you were outside on the concrete so Toph could really feel right through you.

Sokka turned back to you quickly. “You’re going to dinner with someone?”

“Fine, yes, I am, so what?”

“Who is it?”

You rolled your eyes, already late. “Just somebody.”

“Is it a boy?” Sokka gave you a mocking look and you pushed his face away.

“Fine, whatever! It's a boy! So what?! Now let me leave before I'm late. Have a nice dinner everyone.” You waved at the group and ran to the tea shop, hoping that Zuko didn't leave yet.

The bell rang as you opened the shop door. “Sorry, we’re not serving tea anymore, we’re closing at the moment,” a familiar voice said. Iroh peeked his head out, surprised to see you. “y/n?”

You smiled, “hi Iroh.”

“How are you?” Iroh set down the broom he was holding and pulled you into a soft embrace. You never told the others, but you spent quite a bit of time talking to Zuko’s uncle when you got the chance. He was a wise man and kind as well. Maybe that's why you understood Zuko so well, you had someone to give you some insight on the boy.

“I'm good, Iroh. How are you?”

“Oh I'm fine,” he beamed at you, pulling away from the hug. “I'm getting to live my lifelong dream of making tea for the people of Ba Sing Se, so that feels pretty nice.”

“Well, you are the best at making tea, Iroh.”

“Oh, stop. You’re so full of flattery, y/n.” Iroh blushed with a smile. “Is there a reason you’re here?”

“Is your nephew here?”

“You’re looking for Zuko?” Iroh cocked an eyebrow at you and you chuckled, surprised that you were even here.

“I am.”

Iroh gave you a skeptical look, but honestly didn't care much. He thought it was nice that someone wanted to visit Zuko. “He is here. Let me go grab him. Would you like some tea in the meantime?”

“Tea sounds great,” you admitted, sitting at a table.

As you got comfortable, Zuko ran into the room, completely surprised. “You’re here?”

You laughed. “Of course I am! I said I’d be here at 6 didn't I?”

“I thought you were bluffing.”

“Well now you know I'm serious. Wanna hang out?”

Zuko gave you a side eye and thought for a moment. “I think I know what you’re trying to do.”

“And what might that be?” Iroh entered the room, placing two teacups and a kettle on your table. You thanked Iroh as he left with a smile.

“You’re trying to get info out of me. About the Fire Nation… aren't you?”

You shook your head. “You’re so defensive all the time, Zuko.”

“Can you blame me?” Zuko shut all of the blinds in the shop and sat across from you, taking a sip of tea.

“I guess not.”

“I'm surprised you’re not a little more on edge.”

“Why’s that?” You took a sip of tea as well, humming at how delightful it tasted.

“I'm a firebender. You don't bend right? I could literally take you down at any moment. And it doesn't seem like you have any weapons either.”

“I trust that you won't do anything. Your uncle would probably be pissed about the mess to be honest.”

For the first time in all of your time knowing Zuko, you heard him laugh. He laughed so hard that he snorted a bit, which made him laugh harder. Because of all of his laughter, he made you laugh too, sending you both into a laughing fit. It felt good. You haven't laughed this hard since you first met Sokka, all covered in Appa’s snot.

Zuko literally had tears in his eyes by the time he stopped laughing. Seeing him happy made you feel… good. Really good. It was almost a relief. It made Zuko more human. You didn't know if you could even remotely call him your enemy anymore.

You two ended up talking all night, Iroh occasionally bringing more tea or just little treats every now and then. You literally couldn't stop talking to Zuko. To hear about what it was like to grow up in the Fire Nation as a prince was interesting. To hear what Ozai was really like in person sent chills down your spine. To hear where that scar on his face came from almost brought you to tears. Zuko didn't even know why he told you all of this, but he could say one thing. It felt nice. It felt this giant weight on his chest had been lifted.

After a few hours, you looked at the clock in the shop and frowned. “Bad news, Zuko. I gotta go.”

“Already?” He turned to face the clock and pouted his bottom lip. “Alright then.”

You stood up and collected your things. “Thanks for the tea, Iroh!” You shouted, which was responded with a big smile and a thumbs up from Iroh.

“Thanks for stopping by.”

“Anytime,” you said, opening the door of the shop. “I'll be back.”

“You will?” You turned to Zuko, who almost looked excited that you said that.

“Of course I will. Goodnight guys.”

“Wait,” Zuko ran up to you, holding the door open. “Let me walk you home, it’s late.”

“Zuko, I don't know if that’s a good idea.”

Zuko frowned, but you were probably right. If Aang spotted him for even a second, both of you would be done for. “R-Right. Well… thanks.”

“For what?”

“Hanging out. That was fun.”

You smiled. “That was fun. Thank you for not killing me, Zuko.”

“Anytime.” He giggled, immediately taken aback when you pulled him in for a hug after dropping everything.

He was so… warm. I mean, duh. He was a firebender. But even so, his hug felt so genuine, so nice, and you didn't want to leave. “Goodnight, Zuko,” you said as you pulled away from the hug.

“Goodnight, y/n.” This time, he shocked you by pulling you in for another hug and pulling away only to pull you in again, but this time, your lips were inches apart.

“Can I kiss you?” His voice was in a whisper, his warm breath dusting over your lips.

You just nodded and closed your eyes as his soft lips brushed against yours. You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck pulling him closer. He smiled into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your waist.

When you pulled away from the kiss, both of you said a quick goodbye, your cheeks dusted pink.

Zuko quickly walked back into the tea shop to help Iroh close and put his back on the door.

“I'm glad you found a nice girl, Zuko.” Zuko jumped hearing his uncle’s voice, his face turning a dark shade of crimson.

Though if he was being honest, he was glad he found a nice girl too.

~~~~~

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#i hope you guys like it #i got carried away and wrote too much lmao #writing #fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #<3 #atla #zuko #atla x reader #zuko x reader #avatar the last airbender x reader #avatar the last airbender #avatar #prince zuko #the gaang

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milo-manheim-luver · 8 months

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Lips of An Angel- Drew Starkey x Fem!Reader

summary: based on the song Lips Of An Angel by Hinder. (take a listen! i recommend it!!) Y/N drunkenly calls up her ex boyfriend drew, to confess her love she still has for him and all her regrets from their past relationship.

warnings: odessa…., alcohol consumption, emotional cheating (if you even call it that), angst, a tad of fluff if you squint, slight mentions of physical/mental/emotional abuse (not from drew), lmk if i forgot anything bc i’m sure i did lol.

a/n: for starters…. i’ve been waiting to write this one and i was gonna do it for rafe first but it just felt more right to do drew lol. also please don’t come at me for the way i put odessa in this. (personal opinion: i don’t think they’re really a thing irl but whatever). for the sake of this fic i had to put her in it to work as she’s the only prominent female in his life besides his sisters so bare with me please. (personally not a fan of her for my own reasons and things i’ve read) hope you all enjoy this one!

revised and edited by the one and only @slut4drudy ilyyyyy

as drew had just put the last of the champagne glasses into the sink from his and odessa’s small get together with friends, he could hear his phone ringing that all too familiar ringtone… the ringtone he had set for only her. he thought to himself… how strange it’d be for her to call him at such an absurd hour after not talking to one another in two years.

him and Y/N had began to date their senior year of college at western carolina university, and just like every college couple, they eventually broke it off a few years later. it had been a mutual agreement when he got cast on netflix’s show, outer banks, as she didn’t want to hold him back any longer from achieving all the goals she knew he would. the two however kept in contact regularly until none at all just two years ago when she’d started dating her now boyfriend maverick. and from what Y/N seen drew had also moved on… to his costar odessa.

“hey, uh drew your phone is ringing. do you want me to get it?” odessa asked drew as he finished washing the champagne flutes, drying his hands hurriedly with the towel next to the sink.

“uh, nah, um i’ll go answer it. it might be my mom. you know her and not being able to sleep and missing her kids. i’m just gonna go in the reading room and take the call. i’ll be back out in twenty. sound good?” he asked warily.

“yeah yeah take your time. tell her i said hi for me” she smiled as his towering figure walked past her frame and into the living room, picking his phone up. his large thumb moved nimbly against his phones screen to answer the call from Y/N as he entered the reading room, plopping on the couch.

“h-honey, why you callin me so late? it’s kinda hard to talk right now” he stuttered out her pet name he hadn’t called her in years. all he received in return were her soft sobs from the other line. those little soft sobs shattered his heart. the last time he’d heard them was because of him. because he had spoke the idea of maybe they should break up. because he didn’t know if he could do the long distance relationship, and Y/N had just agreed. no hesitation because she wanted whatever would make him happy. and if that meant breaking up with her and breaking her heart, then so be it. she wanted what was best for him because she loved him.

“honey, why are you crying? is everything okay?” drew whispered out through the phone to his broken ex in an uneasy tone, as his jaw clenched. he hated the idea of her being sad. he always had.

“w-why are you whispering?” she sighed as more tears streamed down her face.

drew bit his lip, exhaling a huff of hot air he hadn’t known he was holding before speaking, “i gotta whisper because i can’t be too loud.”

“why? i-im sorry. i shouldn’t have called. this was so fucking stupid” Y/N slurred out into her end of the phone, catching drew’s attention.

“oh, well, my girls in the next room” he spoke as he paused to let her speak.

“like i-i said… this was st-stupid of me” she slurred out again before continuing, “you’re moved on. i get it”

“honey, Y/N, it’s not like that. i swear. s-shes not even my girlfriend” he tried to elaborate before she cut him off.

“then why’d you call her your girl?”she challenged.

“baby, you’re drunk. i can tell by the way you’re slurring your words. what’s wrong? why’d you call?” drew tried to deflect the question and ask the more important questions; why she’d called and why she’d been crying.

“answer my questions first please” she hiccuped through her phone and into his ear.

“we haven’t put a label on it. in all seriousness i don’t even know what i want. i don’t even think she knows what she wants. it’s more of a friends with benefits kind of deal” he sighed out as his left index finger and thumb pinched the bridge of his nose as he sighed once more, contemplating to speak what he’d been thinking for awhile now. “but honey, if i’m being serious, sometimes i wish she was you”

“i wish i was her too” Y/N whimpered out as she took a gulp of the vodka from the bottle she’d been coddling in her arms, sitting on the bathroom floor, hiding from maverick.

“i guess we never really moved on… did we?” he chuckled out, causing Y/N to smile at the sweet sound of his chuckle. it was bliss to her ears. she’d missed that sound so much in the last two years.

“now answer my question honey, what’s wrong? why’re you calling so later? isn’t it like after 1am there back home in charlotte. right?” he asked Y/N in a concerned tone, face scrunching up in worry as well, though she couldn’t see it.

“u-um. drew it doesn’t matter. forget i called you. okay?” Y/N tried to deflect his concerning questions he’d been shooting her way since the call had started.

“Y/N, honey. i’m not hanging up until you tell me what’s got you so bent out of shape that you’re drunk off your ass, drunk calling me at 1 am your time all while sobbing. i just won’t” he huffed out, losing his patience in the girl on the other line.

“joseph” she began to slur, sternly, “i said it doesn’t matter. go back to your girl or whatever the fuck she is to you” she hiccuped yet again.

“fuck, i cant believe i’m about to say this right now, but it’s really good to hear your voice sayin’ my name. it sounds so sweet” drew smiled to himself as he softly giggled. maybe it was from the champagne he’d had earlier or maybe it was the blissfulness from just hearing Y/N oh so sweet voice saying his name again.

“i love you” Y/N slurred out once more as she started to cry again. “i’ve never stopped” she continued. “i thought i could and would move on but i cant and it hurts me that we aren’t a thing anymore” she continued to weep.

“honey don’t say that. please” he frowned as his heart cracked yet again over his ex girlfriend and her words. more like over her admittance of missing him so much still even after all these years.

“why not, drew? it’s the truth” she sniffled as she wiped her runny nose with the sleeve of his old college sweatshirt she’d still kept after all these year even after their breakup. she picked the bottle of vodka back up and took another swig of it.

“those words…. fuck. they’re coming from the lips of an angel baby. and hearing those words, it’s makes me so fucking weak. because as much as i want to be with you… i cant” he sighed as a single tear streamed down his stubbled cheek, not even bothering to wipe it away. he soon continued, “i never want to say goodbye, honey. and it’s so fucking hard to admit that. but, girl, you make it hard to be faithful with the lips of an angel” he dryly chuckled as the memories of their kisses ran through his brain. it still felt so real. the longing to be near her was still there. and the butterflies. and the desire to make her happy. and the want to make her feel safe and loved.

“drew, you’re the one who just said you guys aren’t even a thing so why would you even say that?” Y/N croaked out as she wiped more of her tears away.

“it’s complicated honey. i feel obligated to be faithful even if her and i aren’t really officially a thing. now please for the love of god, baby, why are you crying? what’s wrong? what happened?” drew exerted his concern as his eyebrows scrunched together in worry.

“i- uh, drew you cant do anything about it, so it doesn’t matter” she whimpered in a whisper, reaching for the bathroom door knob to make sure it was in fact locked. she squeezed her eyes shut as soon as she heard mavericks yells from their kitchen.

“you know, it’s funny that you called me tonight, Y/N/N, because we had some friends over and the whole time i was just thinking of you and how you’ve been. i haven’t heard from you in two years, hunny” drew whispered, his voice strained from the way his heart clenched in pain at the lack of communication between the two when they had both promised to keep in contact.

“maybe that’s why i dream of you. you know what they say, if you dream of someone that means they’re thinking of you. do you dream of me too?” she spoke shakily, as her jaw began to quiver, biting back yet another sob.

“what about maverick? and yes i’ve dreamt of you too, love. i do often” he confessed as he thought back to his dream he had of her from the other night. the two of them had gone on a picnic in the mountains back in their home state of north carolina, enjoying the scenery and all it had to offer, that was until he was awoken by odessa’s loud alarm blaring throughout his bedroom. drew’s lips parted once more as he spoke again, “and does he know you’re talking to me? will it start a fight?”

“th-that’s why i-i uh called. he… uh he got mad again and s-started to throw some things around the kitchen. h-he said some things which isn’t out of the ordinary with him” her frail voice cracked as she finally admitted to him why she had called him so late in the first place. tears once again started pouring out of her once bright eyes which have now been filled with void. “he drinks… a lot. and when he does… he gets kinda aggressive. he will do things to me and say horrible things as well. i-i called you tonight because i’m drunk and i miss you and i know you’d never do this shit to me and because you listen. so well. you always have” she began to cry again for what felt like the twelfth time that night.

“honey, what are you talking about? has he hit you? do you have a place to go?” drew shot up at the mention of mavericks behavior coming from Y/N. he was on high alert and wanted nothing more than to protect her at that instant.

“i shouldn’t have even called. does odessa even know you’re on the phone with me? i don’t want her to get mad at you. i shouldn’t have even called” Y/N stumbled over her words due to the excessive amounts of alcohol she’d been drinking and maybe even a mix of anxiety.

“no, i don’t think she has a clue. i told her it was probably my mom, but, i knew it was you. i still have your number saved to my phone… with your ringtone too. couldn’t get myself to delete it, even after all these years” he confessed as he ran a hand through his shaggy hair. he bit his lip in frustration before speaking sternly this time around, “Y/N, honey, tell me…. has he fucking hit you?”

“y-yes. but he didn’t mean to” she tried to excuse her boyfriends actions, though deep down she knew it was a lie. “and yeah if i have to i can go to my brothers but i don’t need anyone’s fucking help or pity” she blurted a little loud.

“fuck, Y/N” he sighed as fresh tears broke his waterline of his azul eyes, his jaw clenched tight.

“it’s okay, drew, i promise. i’m not your problem anymore. i haven’t been for four years now.” she expressed as she drank the last bit of the vodka that was left in the bottle.

“Y/N can you do one thing for m-“ drew was cut off by a soft knock on the reading rooms door, notifying him that someone ,odessa, was on the other side.

“hey, uh you almost done? it’s getting late and i wanna go to bed” she complained to drew as he’d pulled his phone away from his attentive ears.

“u-uh yeah. let me tell my mom goodnight real quick” he stuttered nervously, worried she’d been ease dropping on part of the private conversation he’d been having on the phone with Y/N. and with that odessa nodded her head as she left the room, shutting the door as she went.

“what is it that you want me to promise you?” Y/N sniffled.

“call me if it gets bad again. i’ll fly out there immediately”

“i promise.”

“i never wanna say goodbye” he admitted to her after her promise.

“i don’t either, but you have to” she spoke flatly as she’d just heard Odessa moments before. she opened her mouth, speaking one last line, “i love you drew”

“i-i love you too honey” drew spoke the words he’d been bottling up since the day the two broke up, as fresh tears streamed down his stubbled cheeks. during the moment he spoke those words all he could hear were mavericks yells and bangs onto the bathroom door through his phone, before the call ended all together.

taglist: @slut4drudy @runningfrom2am @maybankslover

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seeingivy · 8 months

Text

ribbons release

actor eren x f!reader

**part of my method acting series

content: happiness for once. until it is not. ronnie's love for foreshadowing strikes again.

an: not a fan of this chapter, but we digress. read it and do not kill me if you don't like it.

song: not explicitly mentioned, but this chapter reminds me of about you by the 1975. ratty healy, I hate you but you ate on this one thing.

previous part linked here

“I ju-just sent my loc-location, Eren.”

“I got it, Y/N. I just need you to hold on for ten more minutes, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“Y-yes.”

Seattle is famous for rain. You understand that all too well now. After what you’ve counted as twenty-seven minutes - from when you went to take the trash out to the mailpost you’re hiding behind now - you’re all but soaked. Drenched.

Your phone is blowing up with texts, the rain is only getting harder, and the mini black dress and ribbon in your hair do no favors to keep you warm. You slide out of your call with Eren and quickly scan through the messages, buzzing so loud they’re blocking Eren’s voice.

reiner: so, so proud of you always!!! stop being a big famous pop star and go back to being the little twerp who needs my help killing spiders on set :/

levi: I love you too, kid. And on a real listen, we really do love the album.

armin: ann and i are smelling a triple threat on the horizon. love you to the moon and saturn <3

connie: i was accidentally pooping while i listened to dorothea for the first time and i think the combination of those two things at once gave me like a really visceral reaction. im not ok. u are amazing.

mikasa: u are givg me aneurysm. pls don’t forgor to call me the scnd ur okay.

erwin: Call me ASAP.

erwin: Not urgent. Just feeling emotional about my little Canadian reaching hearts all over the world.

king of bitches (maybe: ryomen sukuna): Fluff shit indeed. Blow me a kiss when you beat James for Album of the Year.

danny: where is the album release post? it’s almost been half an hour.

You have bigger problems at the moment. Like the frozen piece of fabric you’re wearing. You should have named the album sweaters or scarves or something. Then at least you’d be warm. And blend in with the paparazzi.

Fuck.

“W-wait, Eren. Y-you ca-n’t b-be the one to get me.” you murmur, shivering through your teeth.

“Do you want to stay with someone else? I know nice people here. My neighbor is in her late forties and has like two middle school aged girls that are really nice. They’d take care of you, I promise you can trust them and-” he rambles.

“N-no. I want to st-stay with you. But pa-papara-zzi. S-send ss-omeone e-else.”

“Paparazzi? Why are-?”

“Er-eren.”

“Would it be that bad if it was me? Like it has to be someone else, Y/N?”

“Y-yes.”

“I have someone in mind. She’s leaving right now, okay?”

Eren’s sound is muffled over the line now, which has you digging your phone into your ear to catch the ends of what he’s saying.

Blast the heater….butt warmer on before she’s in the car….bring it up and I will kick your freeloading….

“Y/N?”

“H-here.”

“Good. I’m sending her. Don't get upset, this is the best I could do, okay? I-I promise she’s actually nice. You can trust her and-and I’d never send someone who would do something bad.”

“O-okay. I t-trust you. J-just get me ou-out of th-this, please.” you whimper, praying to god the rustling behind you is a rabbit and not the group of them finding you.

“I’m trying sweetheart, okay? She’s speeding. She’s on Main and Third, three lights and she’s there.”

That’s when you see it. The flash of the camera. And hear five consecutive clicks right after. You look around the periphery, before you see two of them, two tall guys speed walking closer to where you’re hiding.

So you do the only thing you can. Stand up and run instead.

You scramble up off the pavement, hiking your dress down, and keep running down the block. Climb up the gates, knock over trash cans to block the way, anything to stop them. And when you look back, after who knows how long, you realize they’re gone.

And sit flat on the messy pavement, finally lifting the phone back up. Only to realize Eren’s no longer on the line because your phone is dead. You drop it straight into your lap and dig your hands into your head, covering your ears to stop the pounding sound of the rain from getting any louder.

God. Just breathe. Whoever is coming to get you is on the way. They’ll come get you and then you’ll be out of this mess.

You hear three resounding clicks and a flash of a light to look up at two different paps, two girls this time, getting a straight on picture of you. And all you can do is put your head down in your lap and cry.

They already got the picture. There’s no point in trying to run out of it anymore.

“Y/N.”

“Pl-please. I’m b-begging you. You already got your picture and can ss-spin it into whatever you want. I-I’m still a person, please. Just let me go.” you respond, the tears blinding your sight of vision.

You feel a towel being wrapped around your shoulders and soft hands lifting you up by your arms. And then all of a sudden you’re in a warm car, being sped out of the neighborhood past the groups of paparazzi in between the houses, and not directly across from them having your picture taken.

You’re in a car. You’re okay. You’re leaving. You’re okay.

You lean back and breathe hard, phantom sobs still racking out of your chest, trying to register that you’re almost there. Safe behind closed, triple locked doors.

“D-did you tell Eren?”

“Yes. He’s not far, we’ll be there soon, okay?”

“Okay. T-thank you. I’m Y/N.”

“Lana.”

You turn your head to actually take in the driver this time, to be met with the Lana you feared. Ricky’s ex-girlfriend, Lana. She has short brown hair - entirely different from her long, beachy waves from the Girlfriend incident - a pointed nose and a very clenched jaw.

“Th-there are more blankets on the floor. I pumped the heater pretty hard, but I’ll turn all the fans your way. And anything you could possibly need is being rushed to the house for you, so just don’t worry, okay?”

“I appreciate it. Thank you for coming to get me. I-I”

“Please don’t thank me. I just-”

She takes a harsh intake of breath and turns to give you a look, her mouth upturned.

“He locked you out, didn’t he?” she whispers.

“Yeah.” you respond.

“What did you do?”

“I told him I didn’t like him back.”

She turns her head towards you, a look of confusion on her face.

“It was a PR thing.”

She snorts.

“Your managers must hate you.”

“I’m starting to think they just might.”

“Well. Don’t feel bad. Not for a fucking second. Just because he likes you, doesn’t mean he’s entitled to you reciprocating back. You like who you like. And if I were you, I wouldn’t stop liking a guy like Eren for a skeeze like Ricky either.”

You lean against the glass, hot air blowing in your face, as you take in her expression - so enraged, so exasperated, so furious that it gives you a chill. But when she looks over and gives you a halfhearted smile, you see the pained expression there too.

That’s when you pinpoint it. Lana reminds you of Historia.

“I’m sorry.” you respond.

“For?”

“You knew he locked me out. He must have done it to you too, no?” you whisper, the tension in the air delicate.

She swallows hard and clenches her knuckles on the steering wheel, eyes laser focused on the red light shining on her face. And beyond the original striking features - her sharp jaw and nose - you see the softness too. The dimples, the wrinkles near her eyes, the light brown freckles.

“I wanted to take time off from acting. It-I did a role that was really traumatic and I just needed a break. And he was just about to go on tour and he wanted me to come to support. Like a little cheerleader.”

“So he locked you out?”

“For two days. He-he’s just. A lot of the fame stuff got to him when he was really little. And now he’s got this convoluted sense of self-image and it just- I don’t know. He’s got problems.” she responds.

“I’m sorry. Really, that’s-”

You stop talking, words failing you. And maybe it’s the way your head was frozen ten minutes ago and it’s being melted now, or that the picture they took is going to leak soon, or that there is no good thing to say to something shitty like this. It only took him three months to turn on you, which you’re guessing is generous now. She must have infinite patience for putting up with it for an entire year.

“In a weird way, I’m glad it’s me and not Eren. You- this does something for me. Making sure you’re not out there for two days, it-it helps me.” she whispers, looking over to give you a smile.

“I really appreciate you, Lana. Thank you. And I-I’m not mad at you for the Girlfriend thing. You had every right to do that.”

“Y/N. I have every right to drag Ricky James’ name through the mud. But not yours. And I- shit. Please don’t tell Eren we talked about this. He’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“He told me that if I brought it up, he’d kick me out of his house. I kind of stay there because I-I hate living in our townhouse on set because of how toxic it is and he was nice enough to offer. And he made it very clear that I have to pick you and make sure you’re okay, not make you uncomfortable or anything. We’re here to take care of you and-”

“I brought it up. I’ll deal with him if he gives you a hard time. I used to be really good at that type of thing.”

“I know for a fact that you could tell him to twirl in the air like a show pony and he’d do it.”

“I’ll test the theory and let you know.”

She laughs, giving you a smile which you warmly return. Your phone buzzes in your lap, finally revived, and you send a quick message to Mikasa and Jean before shutting it off.

“I-I didn’t know that it was going to go that far. I knew the song and that we were just going to sing it. Let people speculate it was about you. I-I didn’t know they’d have a girl who looked like you OR bring Eren up on stage. And Eren didn’t know anything about the song or the performance at all - they, they set him up.”

“Why would they do that? I mean, they got horrible backlash in the entire thing.”

“They thought people would like it. And they severely underestimated how much people love you. And they did it because, Eren- he. He doesn’t follow rules and-”

“Follow rules?”

“I’m saying too much. He-he’s going to get mad. Ju-just rest, okay? You’re okay now, we’re two minutes from the neighborhood..”

You give her a questioning look, which she returns with a dismissive shake. Stubborn - she’s Historia alright. You lean back in the chair and reach for the music nob, twisting it on. Only to be met with the Teletubbies Theme blasting through the car and a very flustered Lana turning the knob off.

“Fuck.”

“Teletubbies?”

“I-I can explain.”

“Please. I’d love to hear it.”

She drums her fingers on the steering wheel as the silence hangs in the air.

“Okay. Maybe I can’t explain.”

“No need. I appreciate versatile music taste in prospective friends. Especially classics like this.” you respond, cranking the music back on.

“Friends?”

“Don’t be silly. Not exaggerating, but I think you quite literally saved my life a few minutes ago. You’re like the La-La to my Dipsy.”

“Lame. You’re more of a Tinky-Winky. And anytime. We girls stick together, right?” she responds, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze. Like Eren.

Did she learn the hand squeezes from Eren? Is he squeezing her hands? They live together so …are they dating?

“We’re here.”

You nod, appreciative of Lana more than maybe any person on god's green Earth, as she pulls into the driveway and helps you out of the car. It’s only after sitting that you’re realizing your legs are so bone dead tired that you’re barely moving on your own.

You move past the hood of the car as Eren walks into the garage, immediately beelining towards you. His hair is long again - it’s always changing every time you see him - and he’s all wound up with tensions sitting in his shoulders. His hands are warm and cupping your face, yanking the cold towel off and replacing it with a warm one.

“Hey. You-you nicked your face, Y/N. And you’re freezing, you-” he whispers, brushing his fingers across the skin near your eye that stings on touch.

Lana holds the door open as he leads you in, arms aggressively moving up and down your shoulders and his face all pinched up in concern.

“You’re good to go? I put your stuff out by the door.” Eren says, gesturing to Lana.

“Is she leaving?” you ask, looking up at Eren.

“Yeah. Don’t worry, it’ll be just us. And I’m sure Mika and Jean will drop everything to fly out for you tomorrow, I can tell them if you need me to and-”

“Well, don’t make her leave. She shouldn’t stay on that stupid set just because of me.” you respond.

Eren looks over and glares at Lana, who is now wide eyed and giving Eren a sheepish smile. Fuck. He asked her not to talk about that.

“Lana.” he says, in a warning tone.

“Eren. Chill out. I didn’t even-”

“You’re so full of yourself, you know that? You- she got drenched and the rain and you were talking about set?”

“It’s not like that! It just came up and-”

“Oh, for sure. You just happened upon it like you were a villager walking in a town square. Ooh Y/N. You just got drenched in the rain and chased by paparazzi, but more importantly, the girls I work with are super bitchy.” he responds, mimicking her voice.

“You-it wasn’t like that! You’re so aggravat-”

“Eren. Leave her alone.” you ask, looking up at him. And you’re sure you must look horrible because he immediately stops when he looks at your face again and signals for her to leave, which she’s receptive to.

“Okay. Lana, text me when you’re there. And check if you were followed on your way out.” Eren says.

Lana stops and holds both of your arms at your biceps, hands soft on your skin.

“Do call me if you need anything, okay? Especially Ricky related. Whatever you do, I’ll back you up, Tinky-Winky. ”

“Thank you, La-La. I’ll take you up on that.” you respond, giving her a warm smile.

“Oh god. No. No, you don’t get to be friends now. Fuck no, Lana. Please stick to the geriatric grandmas you play Scrabble with.”

“You’re just mad they beat you at mahjong last week. Because you’re a prissy loser.”

“And you’re-”

You jab Eren in the side, signaling him to stop, as they both nod and she slides her way out. From the way he’s arguing, the look on his face is so similar to the one he gives Connie when they argue, you know they could go on for years if they got the chance.

“Fuck you, Eren.”

“Eat shit, Lana.”

She flips him off as the door clicks shut behind her, the lack of her presence making you suddenly aware of your breaths. And of Eren, warm Eren rubbing into your shoulders and concerned green eyes staring into yours.

“I like her.” you whisper.

“Me too. Don’t tell her that though, she’s got an ego problem.” he responds.

You laugh, which has him smiling at you, and suddenly you’re sobbing. And on cue, Eren has his arms around you, his touch warm and his voice oh so soft that it kills you. That you haven’t seen him in two months. And haven’t talked to him for longer.

“Eren.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t cry, it-it’ll be okay. I- we’ll fix this, okay? I’ll call Levi and Hange, whoever you want, they’ll all come and-”

You reach up, tangling your arms around his neck as he keeps nervously talking, trying to hold you closer even though it’s not physically possible. And he’s just so-

So familiar that he feels like home.

“You’re breaking my heart here, Y/N. Please stop crying, I-I’ve got you, okay?” he murmurs, straight into your skin as you nod, trying your best to even out the sobs still leaving you. And slowly but surely, the stream slows and your breath evens out enough to get at least a few words out.

“Okay. Okay, okay. I’m okay.”

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“As much as I like holding you, you’re freezing. Take a shower first and we can do this all you want, okay?”

You pull back, wiping the tears off your cheeks and giving him a nod. He gives you a small smile, before placing his hands on your shoulders and leading you down towards the bathroom. And you don’t miss all the posters and pictures he has on his walls - one from each season of Attack of Titan, a few of him and Armin, and even one of him and Lana flipping off the camera together.

He pushes you into the bathroom and immediately turns on the shower all the way to the hottest setting, before turning around and putting his hands on his hips.

“Towels, clothes, shampoo. There’s soap in there already and take as long as you want. Sit in here for three days if you have to just- do-do whatever you have to do and-”

You pick up the bottle of shampoo, the lavender scented Pantene, the one that you’ve been using since you were fifteen. And you know, you know that Eren’s atrocious ass uses a three in one hair and conditioner so it’s not his.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Did you just happen to have the brand of shampoo that I use?”

“N-no. Those are Lana’s.”

“Then why are they unopened?” you ask, giving him a smirk.

He glares at you, before rolling his eyes and holding your face. And now he’s leaning so close, so close that your lips are only a few feet away from yours, when he talks.

“You know why you can’t make fun of me for keeping a spare of your shampoos in my house?” he whispers, green eyes burning in yours.

“Why?” you whisper back, stomach lurching.

“Because you’re actually here. I knew you’d come back to me.” he responds, giving your cheek a pinch before walking out.

And when you watch him walk out, giving you one last smile before he shuts the door, you can’t help but roll your eyes. Typical Eren. Funny, irritating, and soft all in one.

He’s the same as you left him.

You pad out of the shower, Eren’s hoodie and sweatpants ridiculously huge on you, as you follow the sweet smell into the kitchen. Eren is leaned over the counter, sliding vegetables into two bowls of ramen as you walk in.

“Hey.”

“Hi. Took a while. Thought you died in there.” Eren responds, pressing his hands to your skin to test how warm they were.

“I almost wish I did.” you respond, laughing.

Except Eren doesn’t find it funny and instead he’s dropping the utensils and standing at your side.

“Y/N.”

“I was joking!”

“Nothing about that was funny. Don’t ever joke about that.” he responds, rummaging through the drawers at your side before pulling out a little tube of gel.

Eren taps the top of the counter, which you jump onto, before he takes his place in between your legs. His hands are focused on reading the instructions, forehead all scrunched up in concentration.

“What’s that?”

“It’s like this…scar ointment or whatever. Helps things heal better, I want to use it on that cut on your pretty face.” he responds, twisting it open and squirting some on his finger.

He brings his hands to your face, eyes intently focused on your cheek. You hiss the second his finger makes contact with your skin, the tingling sensation catching you off guard.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I know it hurts.” he whispers, smothering the cold gel down the side of your eye.

“I-I fell on the pavement. My knees are pretty bad too, Eren.” you whisper, which he nods at.

After he finishes, he’s carefully sliding the ends of your pants off and carefully placing the ointment on each of the jagged marks on your legs. And you eye the bowls of ramen at your side - knowing instantly that the one without mushrooms is yours - and reach for the food. The broth is so warm it soothes the aching feeling in your throat, still seasoned to perfection the way Eren always makes it.

“Eren.”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask you a weird question?”

“Sure.”

“Are you and Lana dating?”

He looks up from your leg and gives you a devilish smirk. And then starts laughing. Like full on, crouched over, tears from his eyes laughing.

“Okay. It wasn’t that funny.” you murmur, rubbing your hands against the warm bowl and frowning.

“Oh god, Y/N. Jesus-”

“It’s a normal question! She lives with you, you trusted her to come get me, and you guys have a picture together in the hallway.”

“Are you jealous?” he asks, standing up and leaning straight into your space.

“Absolutely not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“You don’t need to get all embarrassed. Watching you kiss Ricky James made me want to break something, preferably his neck.”

You swallow hard at the mention of Ricky again, the thought of him and what happened was so far away because you were with Eren. In his space, in your shared bubble, after so long. And he catches on too fast because he’s already profusely apologizing.

“Hey. I didn’t mean to bring him up, I-I’m not trying to push you into telling me what happened it’s just-”

“No. No, Eren. It’s okay. I know. I-”

You breathe in hard and put the bowl of ramen down and reach for his hands instead. You keep your eyes focused on them - on the little mole on his left hand, the feeling of his knuckles underneath your fingers, and on him squeezing your hands three times before you start talking.

“Ricky and I were faking the relationship for PR. Since London Boy and all that, it was Danny and Sareen’s idea. That-that’s why I stopped talking to you, I-I felt bad. And I was ashamed that I was even doing it, I-I don’t know. The Little Women press and all that, it would just get people to stream and talk. Make me a triple threat. And then today, I- He told me he liked me. And I said I couldn’t do that right now. That I don’t like him back. I went to take out the trash because it was so awkward and then I was going to go home but he- he locked me out. And when I asked to come back in, he repeated the same words to me. That he couldn’t do that right now.”

Eren lifts your hands, still locked with his, and presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles, as you continue. His lips burn your skin, still.

“I was out there and it-it was cold. And then I heard the cars and I saw seven paparazzi trucks, right on the porch. Ricky, his address isn’t leaked. No-no one knew I was there or that he was but they all showed up, right when I was out there and-”

“He called them, didn’t he?” Eren asks, his tone so harsh, so unyielding that it almost doesn’t sound like him.

“Yeah. And I ran, for so long. I- they got a picture. A few, I know they did and I was just so, so scared that I was going to be out there forever, that I was all alone and they were just going to-”

Eren reaches forward, wrapping you in his arms for what feels like the fiftieth time tonight, but you welcome it. Focus on his heart beating under your ear, running your fingers over his fish tattoo on his bicep, and on his soft, steady breaths.

“Eren.”

“Hm.”

“You didn’t say anything. What are you thinking about?”

“What I’m thinking isn’t productive for you to know right now.”

You look up at him, giving him a questioning look.

“Drop it, Y/N.”

“No. Tell me. I’m sure you’re mad and all but-”

“Mad? I’m fucking furious, I’m livid. That he fucking locked you out and left you in the cold. You-you could have been seriously hurt. You are hurt. And not only that, the fucking paparazzi. You-you ran in the cold, you fell, you can’t stop crying and-and- I’m going to kill this asshole when I see him next because it’s his fault you’re feeling like this.”

“Eren.”

“No. Shut up, Y/N. I’m being serious. I-I don’t like seeing you like this and don’t tell me not to. He hurt you. It’s that simple.”

You deflate, knowing Eren too well to know that he won’t drop this. Especially when he’s overly passionate, deep in the feeling right now.

“Okay. But can you just be here for me right now? I need you here and not all….tense and mad. B-Be soft. And warm.”

He stops, the frustration in his forehead dissolving as he takes a breath and smiles at you. Not fully, but it does the job.

“Okay. I can do that. Let’s watch Fruits Basket. And then go to bed.”

“You hate Fruits Basket.”

“But I love you. Enough to watch your weird bestiality adjacent show and pretend to like it.”

You smile and he reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Look at that smile. There she is. There’s my sweet girl.” he whispers, voice all tangled in his throat.

You wake up to an empty bed, Eren’s side cold. And you pull his hoodie on before padding downstairs to find Eren’s phone pressed to his ear. He gives you a wave and points to the plate - a mix of eggs, french toast, and fruits - perfectly placed to perfection.

You give him a smile and he walks off, taking the phone with him. You frown as you watch him disappear, jabbing your fork through the cantaloupe.

What is he talking about that’s so important he doesn’t want you to hear?

You jump off of the stool and quietly pad towards the direction he walked, hiding in the hallway. He’s leaning against the wall, staring at the picture right across - one of Levi and Hange kissing your cheeks at the vow renewal - and angle yourself to hear his words.

“Is he okay?”

“I’m glad. You tell me if you need anything else, okay?”

“Okay, Coco. I missed you too, yeah?”

Who the fuck is Coco?

He hangs up and you immediately scramble back to the kitchen, trying your best to stay inconspicuous as he comes back and gives you a smile. It doesn’t reach his eyes, the expression on his face almost tired.

“Hey sleepyhead. You okay?”

“Mhm. Food is really good, Eren.”

He gives you a smile as he sits at your side, eyes focused on you as you eat your food. He places both of your phones in front of you, and you spot yours with nearly a hundred notifications. But when you reach for it, Eren grabs your hand in the air and locks it on his own instead.

“Just-wait. Eat first.” he says, his tone hollow.

You turn your head to the side and take in Eren’s expression, downtrodden and uncharacteristically unexpressive. The complete opposite of Eren yesterday - moony eyes and soft smiles.

“Eren.”

“Y/N. If I ask you to do this for me, can you trust me and listen?”

“No. You-what’s wrong? You’re being weird.” you ask, reaching for his hand.

He looks over, the look indiscernible, as he leans forward and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“You-I took care of most of it, okay? Levi and Hange are coming. Just, don’t panic. You-it’s okay.”

“Eren. You’re scaring me. Just tell me.”

He takes a deep breath, cracking the knuckles in your hand as he nervously talks.

“You-your pictures leaked. The ones of you running last night. And-and people started speculating really fast - wondering why you were running and crying on the night your album released instead of celebrating it. And-and then Ricky, he tweeted a bunch of things.”

You pale. And reach for your phone, which Eren stops again.

“They’re lies. Obviously. You don’t need to read them, not yet. And Lana told me she’s ready to back you up, whatever you want, when you need it. But, that’s not-”

“What, Eren? Just spit it out.” you respond, frantically.

“They- Ricky’s fans are mad at you. They’re sending you death threats.”

“Oh.”

You deflate, staring at the cold mess of breakfast on your plate. Death threats. Hate, you’re no stranger too. Of people commenting on your looks, how bad your singing is, how lame you are. But wishing you were dead? Full on, unbothered and cursing your existence?

“And not just you, but your family too.” he whispers, watching your face fall.

Your family. Your parents, Colt, Falco-

“Excuse me. What did you just say?

Eren doesn’t respond and the tears fall immediately from your eyes, hot and angry as he reaches forward, immediately swiping them away. His expression's pained, he knows this all too well.

“I sent your family a security detail. Don’t worry. Colt was only minorly injured and-”

You stand up and grab Eren’s shirt, bundling the fabric into a fist in your hands, as you glare at him.

“Injured? What the fuck do you mean injured, Eren?”

He sighs, lifting his hands to move yours, and hold them. You’re still clenching hard, so hard you’re sure you’re drawing blood, but he’s doing his best to uncurl your hands as he talks.

“They threw a brick through the window. And the glass, Colt was sitting right there. I was just on the phone with Falco, he said he’s doing better. The security detailing has medical so you don’t have to worry about that again and they’re both okay and-”

“No part of this is okay, Eren! Quit saying it’s okay when it’s not! They almost killed my brothers.”

“Y/N.”

“No. No, this is horrible, Eren. They-they don’t do any of this stuff. Falco’s barely thirteen. And Colt - he’s going to college. He’s not a celebrity, he’s not a singer, he’s just a student. How is he supposed to go out after this? Why- how is it supposed to be normal? And now, they’re going to be like us. They’re going to feel like they’re trapped in this fucking suffocating ass fish bowl and everyone’s watching and laughing at them and they just-”

“Y/N. Stop. It’s not going to-”

“Falco’s too soft for this. He’s just a kid, Eren. I can’t- no. This isn’t fair. Eren, they didn’t even do anything. They’re literally just related to me, they just love me and they’re getting hurt because of it. You- you’re probably getting dragged in the mud too. Everyone who helps me gets subjected to this, loving me comes with this big thing behind me and I can’t even keep people who get it with me. I let you go when you were the only person who understood and I messed it all up and got myself involved with Ricky James of all people and-”

“Y/N. Stop. Please."

You sit flat on Eren’s floor, head in your hands, and cry, teardrops falling straight onto the floor. And Eren’s sitting there with you, with your big mess of jumbled feelings and mistakes, and trying his best to help you with it.

That’s how Levi and Hange find you two, after pocketing the spare key Eren told them about. After he insistently called them and payed for a private jet, going on and on about how Y/N needed them. And here you two are, despite their original conceived notions that you two were fighting, on the floor, in each other’s arms.

“Some things never change, huh?” Hange whispers.

“Yeah. They keep fucking crying every time we see them.” he whispers back.

Between Levi and Hange - Jean, Mikasa, and Connie who make it out that night - and Eren and Lana, they fix things. Most things.

Ricky’s narrative about you is clear cut - half-true and half-fake. Your team forced him to date you and defend you for PR purposes, after the Girlfriend incident. There was an agreement that you two would write certain songs, make certain appearances, and support each other.

But then Ricky turns the gate. Says that you’ve deeply, severely hurt him. That you led him on, that you used him to boost your own ego, and that you were dangerously obsessed with fame and not him. That you were all things - heartless, fake, that he doubted if you were even a real person. A glorious pop-star, empty and hollow on the inside.

And people jump on it fast. Citing the fact that you would throw away your friendship with Historia to be famous, that you stopped dating Eren when he stopped being successful, that you can go to tours but not to Mikasa or Jean’s birthday parties.

The worst part? Ricky lied, but the things they pointed out were true. Every mistake you make is on display and that people make it a point to draw attention o it. That you really were in too deep, too deep into pleasing Sareen and Danny, and being a triple threat that you forgot that they were all there too.

Eren, especially. Sweet, sweet Eren who saved you, who held you when you needed him.

You look over at him and Lana, the two of them very aggressively debating how to use their last turn of their daily Wordle, and feel your heart deflate.

You dropped the ball. You’ll never make it up to him.

Lana, in her infinite kindness, has chosen to share her own story, as a corroboration for yours. That Ricky taunted, mocked, and harassed her the entire time they were dating. That you're anything but the things he says. Because she’s had enough and she’ll do it to help out her Tinky-Winky. (Much to Eren’s dismay, he hates that you’re both becoming closer as time goes on.)

And to complement the announcement, Lana asked for one thing. To go out in style. You wrote a song with her and promised her that she was going to be the lead actress in the music video. A girl rage moment, like The Man. Danny and Sareen approve the move, making no comments or concerns about anything else that happened, and ask to be involved when the time comes.

You sit on it for a few days. Till you’re ready. But where you are now - with these people - needs to stay for a little longer. Before you brace everything again.

“Yo.”

You smile, opening up space for Connie on the couch for you.

“Hi Con.”

“Deep in your thoughts there, princess. Thinking about how your album is about to go Multi-Platinum?”

“No. Just the entire thing.” you respond, frowning.

Connie rolls his eyes, reaching forward to squish your cheeks way too hard.

“Ricky, when I catch you, Ricky-” Connie says under his breath,

You snort, reaching forward to push Connie off. You focus back on Eren and Lana, who are now pulling each other's hair and a nice string of insults, as Mikasa and Levi brew their tea, entirely unbothered in the back.

And when the screen in front of you flashes, when your third album goes Multi-Platinum after a week of being released, they’re all climbing on you. Jean and Mikasa are hollering in the back, Connie and Lana are jostling you in the air and pressing kisses to your cheek, and Eren, Levi, and Hange smile at you, the three of them enveloped in their own hug, across the way.

You split your separate ways at the end of the week, when you’re ready. Connie, Jean, and Mikasa return to set, Lana and Eren are gone with the wind, and Levi and Hange disappear again.

When you sit on your plane back home, it sits in. How lonely this entire thing is. How a week full of your friends who love you only happened because of this sickening thing. That it's not a given, that they're presence is only in the bad times and almost never the good.

Your phone buzzes in your lap and you pick up your phone to read the notification.

eren: don’t be a stranger. fish like to swim in schools, not alone.

It’s something that rings in your mind, time and time again. When everyone else wins the war, when you keep performing and letting them take and take, for the sake of the work. For the art, for your dream.

And when you give up acting, singing, and dancing at the end of it all and make zero intentions to ever do any of this again, the question still bothers you.

If fish like to swim in schools, why did Eren push you so far away? Why was he so intent on swimming alone? Where you couldn't follow?

eren: I'm not saying that for you. and I know that this is selfish but...

eren: I need you just as much as you need me.

Fucking liar.

next part linked here

taglist:

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abrcmswrld · 5 months

Text

Treacherous | Mike Schmidt x Reader

Summary: Reader and Mike have been best friends since childhood. After a fight, Reader is given a surprise visit.

Warnings: General Angst, General Fluff, a suggestive make out scene in the nude but nothing too crazy, mentions of feminine clothing in one part but overall gender neutral

Author's Note: IM EDITING THIS RN SO PLEASE JUST IGNORE THE MISTAKES AND LIKE DUMB STUFF This is my first fic for Mike so bear with me! I tried so hard to adhere to the movie timeline but if it seems shaky please just ignore it lmao. I'm also bad at pacing sorry. I’d love to make this a series cause I’m in love with a good friends to lovers trope.

Mike had always been a bit of a mess. All of the time that you've known him, this has never changed. You can recall times on the playground of boys calling him names for his sensitivities. How were they to know the gravity of his situation? How were you to know? But you always felt called to stand up for him either way.

So you'd hound them off. You'd grab his hand and pull him off the dirt and to a quiet corner of the playground. The two of you would sit on the wooden border, picking at the grass and watching the other kids play.

His sensitivities would quickly turn to a certain hardness that you'd never fully come to understand, even in your late twenties. He'd open up the tiniest bit in high school, after his mother had passed away. He was only 17 years old. You were still children.

You have memories of standing uncomfortably in the dress your mother had insisted you wear to the funeral. You didn't know how to approach him then. He sat alone in a chair on the far side of the funeral home, a blank expression on his face. You couldn't say a word as you took tiny footsteps towards him. And he didn't say a word either, just looked up with bloodshot eyes. You'd hugged him then, feeling his shoulders shakes against you.

Soon it was time for the two of you to start thinking about college and your lives outside of the scope of small town high school. Talks of plans to find something new and excited were quickly stomped out by the failures of his father. You can recall a 23 year old Mike begging for your company on late nights when his father's drinking had reached a climax.

And you'd gladly show up for him. Abby was only six by that time, and Mike was all she had. Mike spoke about his father with disdain to you. Never crying the way he had as child, but you could see a sad anger within the conversations. And really, you couldn't blame him.

You can remember a night on the roof of your childhood home. It wasn’t your first time sneaking Mike through the window of your bedroom. It was a cold December night, and you were home for the holidays.

“I don’t think my dad’s coming back.”

Your knees were pulled up and under your chin as you rest your head and listened to his worries. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “I mean, he hasn’t been back for three days and I think this might finally be it.”

You furrowed your brows and met his gaze.

“I’ll move back here.”

In that moment he had begged you not to. You were so close to finishing your degree and he insisted that he could not be the reason you didn’t finish. So you heeded to his wishes. You finished your final semester.

In the 6 months that you were gone after that night, his dad had not returned. Mike had stepped up to be a guardian for his sister. Family court would later assure this in legal documentation.

You had hugged him tightly the first night you were home and assured him that you would be there, for the both of them.

━━━

You would prove that to him when his original babysitter had ghosted him.

“Probably got tired of not being paid.” He had said when you asked why.

You don’t ask for pay. You had a day job that kept you stable enough to live. And as Mike’s hours were night shift, there was really no problem with the arrangement.

It would go on for a few weeks. You hadn’t seen pay, but you didn’t mind. Mike would cook you breakfast when he got home. That was payment enough for you.

But you could notice he wasn’t doing well. Dark circles had formed under his eyes. He had confided in you about the actions of his Aunt Jane. He showed you the papers with bold letters proclaiming a request for a change of custody. His stress and worry made sense to you now.

He would have to prove he was fit, a big ask in a court setting, especially for someone like Mike. You had encouraged him the best you could.

But everything had come to a head on a night when Mike had intended to actually pay you.

He woke you from your light sleep on his couch, alerting you that he was home. He sat his tired body on the recliner.

“There’s a 20 dollar bill in my jacket pocket.”

His eyes are closed as he speaks. It seems the night has been a rough one for him. “You don’t have to, but thank you.” You find the jacket lying on the kitchen table. You feel slightly bad as you reach your hand in to find the bill, but your guilt falls into confusion as your fingers brush the tiny bottle inside.

You let your eyes travel over the orange bottle in your hands. You furrow your brows. You turn to face the recliner he sits in.

"Mike."

He turns his head to face you, tired eyes falling on yours. He sees the bottle in your hands and you can see a sense of uncertainty and dread fall across his features.

"What are these? Sleeping pills?"

He immediately tenses, as if he had been avoiding this topic with everyone. But he responds quietly, “Yes.”

You fall silent for a moment, unsure of what to say. Realistically, there was nothing wrong with sleeping pills. People use them all of the time to sleep. But Mike seems hesitant to cover the topic of these pills and why he uses them.

An additional concern comes up in the way he had stuffed them in his jacket pocket. Why was he taking them to work? You hate the way your thoughts sound like the micromanagement of a mother, but all you can see is the bright yellow of the custody papers and Abby’s sweet face in your mind.

“Have you been taking these at work?”

He’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for you. You sigh as you sit the bottle down on the kitchen counter. You’ve known he wasn’t well. The incident that had gotten him fired from his last job, the dark circles under his eyes, the hardness about him, it all worried you. But you had always chose to let him live. Let him make his mistakes.

“Mike, talk to me. What’s going on with you?”

He lets out a spiteful scoff as if the conversation is beneath his worries at the moment. He lets out a shaky sigh. “I feel connected to him there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

There’s no doubt in your mind who he is referring to. His baby brother. The one he couldn’t save. You let him continue.

“If I can put myself into the right state of mind, I can see it. I can watch it over and over. And if I try hard enough maybe I might see who took him.”

He voice drifts off to a quiet and weak tone, “That’s all that matters to me.”

You can tell he’s hurt by the way that his voice comes out strained and weak, and it hurts you too. It’s not as if you couldn’t understand the pain of the situation. He’d cried to you all those years back when it first occurred. What you can’t understand is how he could let it ruin his relationship with Abby. Abby who is alive and well. Abby who, even if discreet, sees Mike as the moon and stars.

“And what about that little girl who sits around and draws you all day long?”

It makes you feel like a bitch to even say such a thing to him, but if it gives him a shake maybe it’d be worth it. “What about her?”

He stands still as a statue, emotions shifting across his face as he processes the words you’ve shot at him. You’re sure they strike like a bullet. His mouth opens and closes again, so you speak again.

“I know how badly you want to bring him back, Mike. To bring him back and be able to pretend none of that ever happened.”

He furrows his brows and you can the see the hurt flood his expression.

“But you’re going to lose them both if you don’t get your shit together.”

You sigh. You hate the way you sound like a mother scolding a child. You take a shaky breath. “Do you think that this job is really good for you? I mean-“ He cuts you off with a scoff and a laugh.

His tense attitude has you uncomfortable and defensive. You hate the way your voice becomes strained as you speak. “I just think it’s taking a toll on you.”

“I need this job, otherwise I’m never gonna see her again.”

And of course you know that. He needs a job to look good for a court that’s supposed to be able to decide if he’s right to take care of his sister. But what good does a job do on paper if the court can clearly see the way his mental stability is shaky? He hesitates and meets your eyes with a tense look as he speaks,

“You’re here to babysit Abby, not me.”

You stand silently in front of him for a moment before grabbing your coat. You turn toward him. You can see the quirk of regret on his expression, but he doesn’t speak, doesn’t take it back.

“It’s gonna take more than a shitty job that drives you crazy to keep her. I think you should find somebody else to babysit Abby.”

There’s malice in your tone and you hate it. But you can’t make excuses for him. You ignore his voice as he says your name quietly. You just let the door close behind you a you walk to your car. You wait for the door to open again behind your back. It doesn’t.

He doesn’t text you either. In fact, you don’t hear from him for another week and you wonder if he’s already replaced you and plans on holding the grudge.

You assume he must have. He must have found another babysitter for Abby. It seemed he was saving money to actually pay whoever took that role.

You can’t stop yourself from becoming more and more sad as the week goes on. You find yourself worrying more and more about Mike. And Abby. There’s no doubt in your mind that Jane was still adamant on proving in court that Mike was an unfit guardian.

You don’t know why you feel as though your presence could somehow remedy that. You don’t know why you feel an ache so deep in your heart. Friendship breakups are common. But Mike was different.

You still don’t let yourself text him. You would give him the power to choose that route. To choose you and the friendship you had given him since you were both children. And by the end of the week you have to force yourself to sleep.

And by the end of the week you get what you had secretly hoped for.

━━━

The knock on your door is urgent. You're half asleep as you rise out of the comfort of your bed. Your feet press against the cold floor as you rush to see who it could be. As you glance through the peephole you're met with those familiar black curls.

You open the door swiftly, shivering at the cool breeze that flows in. He looks like hell. Abby stands at his side. You're stunned, "Oh my God." You open the door wider and usher the two of them in.

Abby seems to be physically uninjured, while Mike's face is bloodied and bruised. You whisper to Mike,

"What the hell happened?"

He looks to Abby before he answers. "Abby should get some rest while we talk." You nod immediately. "Of course. She can sleep in my bed while I patch you up."

You lead the young girl to the bed and ensure she's tucked in. She thanks you quietly before you leave the room. You grab some first aid supplies from the bathroom cabinet on your way back.

"Sit."

You point Mike in the direction of the couch. He winces as you wipe the open cuts with alcohol wipes. You raise an eyebrow, “ You look like hell, Mike.” He scoffs in response.

“So you gonna tell me who did this to you, or am I just gonna have to keep wondering?”

Mike hesitates. You stop your movements to look at him with concern. He shakes his head, “You’re gonna think I’m crazy.” You sigh,

“Mike, I know you. Just tell me.”

And so he does. He explains everything down to the little details he can remember. It sounds crazy, it absolutely does. But you can’t bring yourself to think he’s faking it.

“I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. She knows what she saw.” He points in the direction of the room Abby was soundly sleeping in.

“I believe you.”

He closes his eyes and exhales a large breath. You continue to clean the cuts along his face and head. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches.” He nods. There’s still an awkward tension between the two of you. He’s upset with himself for letting you leave the way you had, and you’re ashamed of yourself for letting him push you away. You break the silence at the same time,

“You know-“

“I’m sorry-“

You can’t help but laugh a little, and he smiles weakly back at you.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too.” You continue.

He shrugs. “You were just looking out for me. I understand that now.” It means a lot coming from Mike. He’s stubborn, not usually one to admit when he’s wrong. It makes the moment all the more sincere. You smile slightly, letting a hand brush his cheek where a bruise is blossoming under the skin.

“I wouldn’t have said what I did if I didn’t care about you.”

He nods slowly and leans his cheek into your caress. You can feel the warmth of his hand as he lets it fall to your hip. His voice falls to a whisper.

“I care about you too.”

You smile and swipe a thumb over his bottom lip, where the plush skin has split from impact and smeared blood across his pale chin. He groans as he leans up, it’s only then that you notice the large gash on his side.

He attempts to stand, hobbling on his injured leg. “Mike,” He turns toward your bedroom, ready to grab Abby and get out of your hair. When he turns his back, you can see the blood seeping through his shirt and the large tear across his back. You grab his hand,

“Mike.”

He faces you again, letting a quick glance fall to your now connected hands. “Let her sleep, she’s alright. Let me help you.”

He stands awkwardly in front of your bathroom counter. His muscles flex with each touch of your fingers around his wounds, his fingers gripping the counter until his knuckles are white.

“I think it’d be best if you took this off.”

You’re awkwardly fiddling with the hem of his long sleeve shirt. He meets your gaze in the mirror and you feel small. Your voice is nearly a whisper, “I- I just can’t see.”

You stare at the floor as he pulls the shirt over his head. The gash is messy, but not deep enough to require stitches. Regardless, it’s covered in a thick layer of blood and sweat. You usher him to turn, and you see that the cut on his side is not better.

He can see the way your eyebrows screw together. “Is it that bad?” His voice has a touch of dread hidden in its tone. “I mean,” You glance at him.

“I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but you need to clean them or they’re gonna get infected.”

He swallows and nods. You walk to the shower, turning the knobs and adjusting the water to an appropriate and comfortable temperature. You clear your throat, “Here. I’ll, uh, I’ll let you…do your thing.”

You turn on your heels to give him privacy. As soon as your fingers touch the metallic surface of the doorknob, his hand catches your free hand, pulling gently. You turn toward him, meeting his eye. He pulls you closer and carefully pulls you into an embrace. You’re worried you’ll catch his wounds with your hands so you let them hover above his skin, not actually touching. But you want to.

You can feel his breath on your neck where he’s buried his face. He speaks into the sensitive skin, “Thank you. I don’t thank you enough.” That’s the moment you finally let your hands rest on his skin.

“You don’t have to thank me, Mike. I do it because I care about you.” You gently brush your fingers across his upper back, avoiding his cut. “Besides, you’d do it for me.”

He pulls himself from your neck, and you drop your hands from his back gently, expecting him to pull out of the embrace. But he stays close to you and only pulls back enough to see your face. Your cheeks are so hot. You can feel it and you know he can probably see it. He keeps his hands at your sides, just above your hips in a way that feels respectful. You allow yourself to put your hands on his forearms, thumbs resting in the bend of his elbows.

“Your water is gonna get cold.”

It’s a whisper as it comes out. He simply nods but doesn’t drop his hands from your sides. You smile shyly at him.

“Come with me.”

Your face is instantly hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of the steam that’s building in the room and around the two of you. With your eyes wide and your mouth opening but no words coming out, he looks at you with hesitation, like he can’t believe the words actually left his mouth.

You can see the fear building on his expression the longer the silence drags on. Thoughts are racing through your head. You’d be lying if you said you’d never thought of this. You loved him. There’d always been a flutter in your stomach and a heat in your cheeks that let you know that perhaps it could be more than a friendship. You want that. But is this really how it’s going to happen?

You imagine the two of you going from childhood friends to becoming well acquainted with each other’s bodies in the span of one stressful night after not speaking for nearly a week. But there are no alarm bells going off in your head. You can’t bring yourself to feel ashamed.

So you kiss him. With his arms still around you and the heat from his bare chest creating a sense of protection from everything. With the whirl of water hitting the tub filling your ears. With the image of Abby sleeping soundly in your bedroom in your mind.

When you pull away, he looks at you with a sense of longing you’ve not seen on him before. You don’t want to say a word, not right now. It’ll be complicated. You know it will be. And you’ll have to have that conversation eventually, but right now the only thing you want is the heat of the water and the silk of his skin against yours.

So you finally unwrap yourself from him to begin working the buttons on your shirt. You’ve turned your brain off momentarily. Your fingers are on autopilot as they remove each article of clothing. If you allowed yourself to think, you’d surely turn in on yourself from the shame.

But when you’re finally bare and displayed in front of him, he doesn’t speak. He only looks with a fondness in his eyes that goes beyond a lustful stare. He slowly works his pants off his injured figure, wincing in the process, and soon he’s just as bare as you.

You’re shaking and cursing yourself internally for doing so. God, why were you shaking? You know he notices as he reaches his hand out to touch your arm lightly, grounding you in reality, and speaks, “Are you okay?”

You nod. More than okay.

The water feels heavenly as it beats against the skin of your back. Mike hobbles into the shower after you. He’s hesitant as you usher him to switch with you. It’s gonna hurt, but it’s necessary.

Your fingers lightly brush the wound on his back. He'd already been wincing slightly from the sting of the water, but your touch has him tensing immediately. You grab a cloth and dampen it enough to be effective in cleaning the general blood and grime from the afflicted wound.

The moment your cloth cover hand touches the wound, he cries out through closed teeth, "Fucking- fuck!" His hands are planted against the shower wall in front of him. He bites his lip, holding in the whimpers of pain, trying his hardest not to wake Abby.

"Shh. It's okay, Mikey."

You let a gentle hand fall to his non injured side, brushing his skin. You're trying to sooth his tense and pained form as much as possible.

Soon enough you have both gashes cleaned up and ready to be bandaged. Mike turns to face you in the shower. His face still has a slight touch of discomfort to it, but he smiles weakly at you.

“Thank you.”

You smile back and nod. You’ve hardly said a word outside of attempting to sooth his pain with sweet words. The cold is starting to seep in from the tiny crack in the shower curtain. You can feel tiny goosebumps beginning to form on your skin. He frowns slightly and breaks the silence again.

“Did I cross a line…with this?”

Your head is already shaking before you can even comprehend the question. Like your body knows the answer before your mind does. “No, Mike.” He hesitates in his response, standing still and quiet before stepping towards you.

He seems to be able to move around a little better. You’re not sure if it’s the water cleaning the previously irritated wounds or if it’s the adrenaline pumping through his body. Either way you’re thankful as his hands are grabbing at your face and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s sloppier than the previous kiss you had shared, and he’s pushed you back so far that your back is hitting the cold tile of the shower wall. A fog has taken over your mind as you reach around his shoulders, digging your fingers into the plush muscle of his back.

The feeling of his tongue swiping into your mouth has sent you entirely mad. You’re whining slightly at the feeling and your eyes are half lidded. You can’t even think of the fact that this is your childhood best friend kissing you. Making you shudder. You can’t find it in you to care, you want him.

“Mikey…”

It’s a whispered moan as you let your head fall back against the tile, exposing the delicate skin of your neck to his wandering mouth.

Despite his injured form, his hands are tight around you. You'd thought of this before, in the heat of the night alone in your high school bedroom, hormones taking over completely.

You'd imagined the strong grip of his hands and the contrast of his plush lips. The bite of white teeth and soothing warmth of the hot water.

It’s absolutely divine, you think. He is divine. You know you’ll have dark bruises on your neck from the way he bites. You can’t help but run a hand through the hair on the back of his head and tug slightly. The moan is elicits rumbles through your neck and you want more.

You’re absolutely drunk off of the feeling of his body being this close to yours, nearly intertwined. You don’t even think when your nails swipe the cut on his back. That is until he lets out a yelp in the crook of your neck and promptly jump back.

You’re wide eyed immediately, realizing what you’d just done.

“I’m- I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Mike.”

You can still see the remnants of a wince on his face but he laughs. And you find yourself letting out a nervous laugh with him. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

You laugh again, holding the palm of your head to your forehead.

“We should probably get out. It’s getting cold.”

You nod.

━━━

You manage to sneak past Abby’s sleeping figure long enough to grab old clothes from your room. You find yourself thanking the universe than Abby is a heavy sleeper.

You’re also thankful that you hadn’t given Mike back an old t-shirt that he had left in your home years ago. He smiles at you when you hand it to him. He puts it on and examines the familiar print on the front.

“You’ve been holding this one hostage, huh?”

You gently nudge his shoulder and let out a chuckle. “Shut up.”

You’ve layered blankets in the middle of your living room floor. You speak as you lay pillows down on the makeshift palette. “Abby is sleeping peacefully, I’m not letting you drive home tonight, and there’s no way I’m letting you sleep on my tiny couch.”

You point exaggeratedly at the “bed” you’ve created for the two of you. “Ta-da.” You let yourself fall back onto the layers of pillows and blankets. It’s surprisingly cushioned. You sigh. “Actually not that bad, Mikey.”

He watches you with a smile from his seat on your couch. “You’ve really out done yourself.” He slides off the couch and into the layers of blankets and pillows next to you. He turns to rest on his uninjured side, facing you. It’s dark in the room, but you’ve left one lamp on. You can see his features glow under the warm light. You brush a hand on his cheek lightly.

“I’m glad you didn’t die tonight, Mike.”

He snickers, but you’re serious. The thought of his face on the news, just another tragedy at Freddy’s, haunts you. “I’m serious.”

He simply stares at you. “You’re not gonna go back there, right?” He closes his eyes and shakes his head slowly.

“I don’t know how I’m gonna take care of her. I can’t keep a job.”

Your thumb brushes at his cheek, soothing his tension. “I’ll help you. When have I ever left you alone in this?” You shiver as you think of the only time you’d walked out on him after that heated argument. You push the thought away and close your eyes.

“Really love you, Mike. You’re my best friend.”

You open your eyes hesitantly and you can see the shine of moisture in his. “Love you too.”

You place a kiss on his lips. It’s chaste, but full of a deep warmth. It leaves you wondering what comes next.

You tuck yourself in close to him.

“Goodnight, Mike.”

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt fluff

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coolprettyleo · 1 month

Text

talk of the town - will smith

tw: lowkey cringe. if ur not into it lmk lowk...

wc: 1.4k

will smith x influencer/ d'amelio sister

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

dylan couldn't believe the shit day she was having. she had woken up late and missed her pilates class, then she spilt coffee all over her laptop, and right now she was fifteen minutes late to her music class. it was her first ever day of college too.

even though she was having a horrible day, she was still dressed cute. she decided she wanted to start taking her school more seriously. and that meant actually going to class.

the thing about dylan though is that she didn't need school. she had over one hundred million followers on all platforms. she was what someone would call an influencer.

influencers usually didn't continue with school if they didn't need to so when dylan decided to still attend college it was a shock to a lot of people; including her family.

her family were all also influencers and didn't decide to attend college; rather deciding to work on their brand instead. a brand that dylan opted out of, she had decided to enter marketing at boston college.

she entered her music class to find that there was no less than twenty five students inside. thats what happens when you attend a private college! dylans strategy her whole life was to always sit in the back of classes. (it was easier to skip class and just lie to the professor and say you were there)

there was one seat left where three other boys sat. she set her stuff down. the boys giving her an odd look, not thinking anyone was going to take that last seat between them or probably trying to figure out why the hell she looked so familiar. dylan got that look often.

the professor though was deep in lecture about their upcoming assignment and dylan was too busy trying to find a top for her upcoming brand dinner in New York. she was pulled out of her own little world when the professor noticed she was not listening and had missed the introduction part of class and decided to call her out on it.

she felt a tap from the boy next to her getting her attention because it seemed the professor had been calling her.

"oh my gosh im so sorry what" she said removing an AirPod and sheepishly looking at the class who all seemed to be either smiling at her or giving her dirty looks.

"since you decided to grace us with your presence introduce yourself please" she said pointing to a slide that stated what exactly to say.

"uhm... im dylan. im from connecticut but I've been living in LA for the past four years, and im a marketing major" she said awkwardly feeling like everyone was judging her.

"alright thank you miss dylan. I want to see the title slide of the assignment done before I dismiss you guys" she said.

the three boys she sat with seemed to be life long friends and she was feeling a bit left out. she had zoned them out till she heard them whispering to each other.

"ask her"

"no thats weird"

"ill ask"

"your tiktok famous huh"

she looked up to a freckled boy her while the dark haired boy giggled and the blonde haired boy cringed.

"uhm, yeah... I guess" she said awkwardly. she really didn't know what to say.

"nice" he said going back to working on his assignment.

she smiled awkwardly and looked at the other two boys. who looked like they were cringing about their friends actions. the dark haired boy seemed to let it go and work on his assignment while the blonde one spoke up.

"im sorry about him, ryan doesn't know how to talk to girls"

"yes I do! if I didn't how would I of pulled frankie" ryan says.

"she basically pulled you" gabe quipped back.

dylan just giggled along to their battering. they seemed funny.

"he's fine. a lot of people don't realize its me in real life but instead just stare at me trying to figure out why I look so familiar, and thats creepier to me"

"well we knew it was you because everyones been saying you go here" ryan told her.

oh god it was a hot topic?

"people talk about it?" she said grossed out.

"yeah, but like no one ever sees you for some reason"

"I did online classes and lived in LA last semester" she told them. it was true, her family was filming their Hulu show and it didnt make sense for her to leave mid-way through filming.

"do you live on campus?" the blonde one asked her again. he seemed like the quiet and calmer one of the three boys.

hes hot

"no, I live in beacon hill, the city"

"why didnt you dorm" gabe nosily asked.

"I didn't think it would be too fun to share an apartment with random girls at first but now I regret it, because I have no friends here" she honestly told them.

"oh my god! my girlfriend has no friends!" ryan said loudly. which made will, gabe, and the people around them to laugh.

"im telling her you said that" will smiled mischievously at him.

"shutup smitty. we have a game tonight and she usually sits alone or with my parents but they're not coming tonight so she'd probably like the company!" ryan said. he was honestly just trying to do a nice thing. he knew frankie struggled with the fact she had no girl friends; even though she said it was fine, and dylan seemed nice.

"game?" Dylan said confused.

"oh ya! we play hockey" the freckled boy answered.

"oh thats cool!" dylan said. she had attended a couple games recently due to the fact her sister was dating an NHL player.

"im will, thats gabe, and ryan" the blonde one said pointing the dark haired boy and the freckled one.

"im dylan. and what's your girlfriends number, id be down to go" she said to the freckled one.

"here" he said writing it down and handing her a crumpled paper.

"her names frankie by the way"

"okay, ill text her after class" she said smiling getting back to work.

"what's your major?" will asked her. he didn't want the conversation to end for some reason. she was lowkey his celebrity crush since he was like fourteen and they first started getting famous.

"marketing. you?"

"communications"

"your quite the communicator then" she said.

oh my gosh dylan you sound pathetic what the hell even is a communicator?

what didnt help was that will looked clueless and Ryan and gabe seemed to be biting back a smile acting like they weren't listening.

"im sorry?"

"like, you like communications- like the major" dylan said, trying to save herself but digging an even deeper and awkwarder hole, turning as red as a tomato.

"uhm ya, I didn't really know what major to pick coming in" he said smiling at her. a smile that dylan liked to see.

"well what do you want to be?"

"a hockey player."

"oh... too bad hockey isn't a major huh" she said chuckling at her own joke while ryan and gabe gave her funny looks except will of course, who was laughing at the joke like it was the funniest thing ever said. (thats what your supposed to do when your crush tells a joke)

"and what do you want to be"

"honestly, I dont know. I just want to have the degree so I can have more of a say in the brands I deal with, and all that"

"so you want the knowledge" gabe said, since he's been listening.

"yeah, basically" she said. making eye contact with will who looked to be studying her a bit.

he knew she wanted to say more but seemed to be putting up a wall which was understandable seeing as she just met these boys twenty mins ago.

"well im all done." she said closing up her laptop and standing up.

"maybe ill see you guys later!" she said waving to them.

"look for 6" will said to her.

"six what?" she said confused.

"what?" he said equally confused now

"six of what" she said cluelessly.

"like the number six" he said smiling awkwardly.

"oh!! omg I knew that! okay!" she said grabbing her bag and waving bye to them.

gabe and ryan gave each other a knowing look before immediately chirping will.

"you are such a flirt"

"that was painful"

"and he said I dont know how to talk to girls"

"shutup guys" he said packing his stuff away before leaving. hoping to see her in the stands tonight. her personality was even cuter.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

im so sorry for not uploading! I just keep overthinking everything so I end up just deleting it! but thats just a me problem lol. but I hope u guys like this au. I plan to the it all together.

#nhl imagine #ryan leonard #gabe perreault #nhl imagines #will smith hockey #bc hockey #hockey fic #will smith x reader #gabe perreault x reader #ryan leonard x reader

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bueckerssturns · 2 months

Text

now you know. - c.sturniolo

WARNINGS : mentions of abuse and death, cursing, urge to vomit

this will be from chris perspective (they’re not famous in this)

————————————————————————

it’s been a week since i decided to take y/ns case into my own hands, the only problem? i had no fucking clue where to start looking for clues or who i should start asking questions to.

looking at old reports and news articles to at least find a lead source for this case was not helpful all the reports had the same thing little to no information at all.

a lack of evidence will not stop me. the lack of sleep was starting to take a toll on me making me slowly lose consciousness until all i saw was black.

when i woke up i wasn’t in my room, well i was but it was different my posters were not on the walls my bedsheets were different, before i could continue my analyzation of the room a girl barges in.

“joe, get up we’re going to be late for school!” she said “i- what?” i uttered slightly confused looking at the girl in my supposed room “did you hit your head again? joe you seriously need to stop skateboarding you keep falling! now get up we have twenty minutes before the bus comes!” she said leaving my room.

“why did she call me joe?” “who is she?” “how did she get into my house?” thousands of questions raced through my head as i got ready.

i made my way to the bathroom to wash my face turning on the light i look in the mirror, i looked like me but i wasn’t me the sudden urge to vomit made its way through my throat i grabbed the edge of the sink to help me steady myself, who was i because i was certainly not chris.

my mind was racing throughout the whole bus ride to school when we arrived i was glad to be met with my old high school.. wait i graduated 4 years ago..

getting down the bus i was looking around but no one i knew was here, as i walked in a guy was approaching me nate! im so glad to see him “bye joe ill see you at home” the girl said making her way to her friends.

“joe, dude, i’m serious when i say this and im sorry for it but damn is your sister hot!”

“nate, ew what? that’s my sister!” i replied disgusted, wait i don’t have a sister.. “who the fuck is nate bro? did you hit your head again?” laughed nate or who i think is nate next to me.

as i looked in front of me i see two people matt and nick! “yo mike, how you doin my man” said matt to nate while dabbing him up ‘what the fuck is going on? if nate is referred to as mike here then what are nick and matts names?’ i thought.

“earth to joe?” nicks hand waved in front of my face trying to get my attention “huh?” i asked being brought back to reality “dude are you faded as fuck again?” he laughed “what? i don’t do that shit” i replied “what you finally quit?” asked matt closing his locker “uh, yea i decided to quit like last week” “finally” they all laughed as i looked around i saw her

“not going to happen” mumbled nick from next to me as he placed a hand on my shoulder “what?” i replied looking at him “dude come on you’ve crushed on y/n since freshman year! plus she’s dating the star quarterback bradley” he said as who i suppose is bradley appears hugging her from behind.

“yea dude listen to austin it’s not going to happen they’ve been dating for like a year or two!” chimed in matt “sorry joe” shrugged nate or mike as we started walking to class.

we made eye contact her smile slowly fading when her eyes met mine giving me a subtle nod to which i didn’t understand our eyes never leaving each others until i was out of her sight.

through out the whole day i spent it in boring classes and getting loads of homework what a great way of being back to school.

at the end of day we rode the bus back home getting to our bus stop i quickly got down and ran into my room, looking through all the cabinets and drawers to find at least something that could give me an idea of who i needed to be.

i had searched the whole room with no luck to find out who i’m supposed to pretend to be i made my way to the bed and sat down my foot slightly hitting the floor making a weird noise come from the floorboard beneath me.

i bent down knocking on it. it sounded hollow fidgeting with the floorboard to find an opening, finally getting it open i found a journal hidden under the board.

“property of joe beckett”

i read through the whole journal to find out more about this joe character and when i finally did i did as many things possible to match him and how he acted.

it’s been three months. three months that i’ve been pretending to be joe, i found out his sister is best friends with y/n, she comes over every weekend to hang out with her. he also works at the gas station near the woods speaking of i was getting ready to take the late shift.

“bye alyssa i’ll be home late so make sure all the doors are locked and if someone knocks on the door don’t open it unless it’s mom she’s supposed to come in a few hours” i told my younger sister as i got my car keys and headed to the door.

“bye joe i’ll see you tomorrow be careful love you!” she shouted at me not taking her eyes off the television.“love you too” i replied back before heading to my car and heading to work.

2:30am

i was putting some canned food on the shelves and reorganizing some stuff i looked up to see a girl under the gas station lights the low glow of the lights barely making her visible, sending chills down my spine it was y/n.

what was she doing here?

she was looking around surely looking for her boyfriend that wasn’t going to appear anytime soon, before i could make my way to her a tall man in all black appears behind her, he has a cloth in his hand placing it over her mouth and nose she struggles for a few seconds before she’s knocked out.

i see him drag her body to the back of the store, i get up quickly making me way to the office in the back checking the cameras and surely there he was dragging her body before roughly letting her down face down and kicking her, i wanted to look away so bad but the scene in front of me was so brutal i physically couldn’t.

he then pulled out a knife violently stabbing her over and over again thirteen times just like the article said, this couldn’t be happening i was witnessing a murder and i couldn’t do anything!

the man took the body a little deeper into the woods afterwards he took out a shovel digging a hole for the knife and covering it up again. as he made his way to the front of the store a gush of wind blew off his hoodie that was covering his face, he looked up making direct eye contact with the camera it’s like he could see me.

waking up with a gasp i look to my side by the sudden buzzing of my phone.

“unknown caller” read the caller ID

“hello?”

“back off this case or your little friend and brothers get it.”

————————————————————————-

what do we think? 👀

tags: @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris @patscorner @lexisecretaccx

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #fanfic

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sunflower-author · 3 months

Note

Haii :3

can I request a yandere platonic lady Tamayo who is very protective of reader

OMG, I AM SO SORRY, I KNOW IT HAS BEEN LIKE 60 DAYS SINCE YOU ASKED I AM EXTREMELY SORRY BUT IT'S FINALLY HERE!!!

IM A LITTLE BEHIND BUT WORKING ON ALL THE OTHER REQUEST!!

TRUST!!!

Anyway I hope you like this<3

~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~^~

"Y/N I told you many times haven't I," Tamayo scolded you, in your room.

"I just wanted to go out to see the festival... It only happens once a year..." You complained.

"Still that doesn't justify sneaking out. You could have lost control, gotten lost, or Kibutsuki might have found you, or-"

"I had human blood yesterday, and you know I handle a least a week without it, and I know the village, I've been reading about it for a while, and we haven't heard about... 'him' being around here my entire lifetime..." you cut her off by saying.

"You've never been around so many people, since you've been turned into a demon, there was no telling if you could handle, all the new walking blood bags around you, and reading about things is different than actually seeing things in real life, as for Kibutsuki, even he we heard no word about him being here, there is still his underlings that lurk around here. remember the last time Yushiro told us about the encounter he had with one of them?" Tamayo asks you.

"... Four days ago..." you say looking down, feeling guilty, knowing that she is right.

"Exactly four days ago, they are probably still hiding in this town somewhere, it's dangerous to go out alone... you know, if you truly asked me and Yushiro, we would have taken you..." Tamayo says sighing.

"Yeah right... you're just saying that right now... but we both know if I asked you before, you would have said no, lecture me more about being outside, humans, demons... 'him' exactly what you're doing right now," you say, knowing the type of manipulation tactics she has used on you ever since you met her.

"All I'm doing is trying to protect you... ever since I met you, don't you forget who was the one that saved you all those years ago... That demon was about to devour you, and I was the one who killed him, if I wasn't there, you would have been dead..." Tamayo said.

Every time the two of you argued and she had enough, Tamayo would always bring up your past trauma, guilt-tripping you to go along with whatever she was saying.

You stay silent knowing that you can't say anything, after she pulls 'that' card on you.

"I care about you Y/N, I truly do," Tamayo says sitting down beside you on your bed.

"Listen, maybe when you're older... give it a few years, and I promise, you me and Yushiro will all go to that festival," Tamayo says, with her signature smile.

It makes her look innocent, but we both know it is always used to hide what she truly is feeling. Her obsessed, psycho, crazy side, or maybe annoyed, irritated side, probably both.

"Older? I'm old enough, I am in my teens no doubt late teen years, in a few years I might well be in my twenties," you snap back at her.

"Correction, you would be in your twenties if you were still human... Demons age differently since they can live well longer compared to humans, menially it takes... even I am not too sure." Tamayo says calmly.

"Yes you have been here a few years, however menially you've probably only aged a few months, and let's not forget about your physical state, when you get turned into a demon, you stop growing physically," Tamayo says.

As she put her hand on your head, in hopes of comforting you a bit.

"I managed fine on my own before you found me," You counter back.

"You lasted what? A little over a year, before I found about to be devoured by a low-level demon-"

"I was younger, I was still getting used to being a demon, but now I know how to do things, thanks to you and Yushiro, I'll be able to handle myself, Tamayo," You cut her off, not wanting her to say anymore.

"And if you were to run into Kibutsuki? Then what? how will you defend yourself, if he found out you were associated with me? He would do unspeakable things to you Y/N," Tamayo says sternly.

"The chances of running into him are very small, just how much demons actually get to see his face?" you say again.

"Y/N L/N, drop this," Tamayo says, sternly, before sighing and calming herself down.

Finally having enough of this, you stay silent, you can never win against Tamayo. This is how all your arguing ends with her, once she says your full name everything ends.

"You acting childish, auguring with me, selfish for leaving me and Yushiro worried-" Realizing what she is saying stops, looking down at her lap, it is never her intention to make you feel bad.

"Y/n I'm sorry, I didn't mean-"

"Yeah yeah, you didn't mean all those bad things you said and were about to say to me," giving her attitude.

Rolling your eyes, you start to lie down on the bed, facing away from her.

"Well, since you're already mad at me, minus well tell you your punishment, no books for a month, and you will stay in your room for a week," Tamayo says turning to look at you.

You just stay silent looking the other way, waiting for her to go.

Getting the signal, Tamayo gets up from the bed walks to the door, turns off the light, grabs the door she looks at you for a moment.

"Goodnight Y/N," She says softly, only to be met with silence.

Sighing again, she closes the door, locking it.

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jennay · 8 months

Text

Ex-Husband

You Left me

Rory Culkin x reader

An: im debating if this will be a short story with a few chapters or just two parts.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Angst?

You arrive at the front door of Kieran's house and bring your hand up to knock. You stop midway, wondering why you agreed to come to this gathering in the first place or why Kieran thought it was a good idea to invite you to his wife's birthday party.

Kieran was mostly oblivious and probably thought it would be acceptable and harmless, like old times when you all hung out together, stayed up late drinking, telling hilarious stories, and caught up with each other's lives.

He probably didn't realize how awkward and painful it would be for you.

Now, you were Rory's ex-wife, which wasn't exactly making the situation easy. You can't even remember the last time the two of you were in the same room.

However, the memory of how it ended still haunts you.

The deafening shouts, the cruel words that cut deep and left the most brutal scars. The wounded pride that made you lash out. The rage and betrayal overpowered your love and convinced the two of you to break the vow you swore to keep.

You take a deep breath and bounce your knuckles against the hard wooden door. Shit, why didn't you just turn around and leave?

The front door swings open, revealing Kieran. His brown eyes sparkle with joy, and his smile shows you he's happy to see you. Kieran's arms wrap around you tightly, and he rocks you side to side. "I'm glad you made it!"

You hand him the bottle of wine you brought for the group. He gladly takes it, waving you to follow him, but you can't. It's like glue is on your feet, and you're completely stuck.

"Are you coming?" He asks with a gentle smile.

You shake your head, "I don't think I should come in." You quietly say. "Can you tell Jazz I said happy birthday?"

Kieran sets the bottle of wine on the small table to the left of the door frame and steps outside, closing it behind him. He rests his hand on the small of your back, guiding you to sit on the stairs with him.

"Listen, nobody holds a grudge and nobody hates you for what happened, it was a freak accident it wasn’t you’re fault.” He briefly pauses, “Honestly, some days, I miss you more than I miss Rory." He jokes attempting to lighten the mood.

You nod, smiling weakly as you hear the voice in your head telling you it was ALL your fault. "I just feel weird." You admit. "Like, do I talk to him? Do I pretend we didn't just go through a divorce last year? Do I avoid him and pretend he doesn't exist? I don't know how I'm supposed to act."

He squeezes your shoulder reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything you're uncomfortable with," Kieran says. "Just be yourself. That's all we want from you."

Your head tilts and your eyes widen with disbelief as you stare at Kieran, "Be me? Have you met me?" You roll your eyes and put your elbows on your knees, placing your face in your hands. "Everyone in there knows me as Rory's wife. I'm getting anxious just thinking about it."

He rubs your back soothingly. "Not true, Jazz, and I knew you before Rory. Jazz misses you. Can you try for her? All I'm asking is for twenty minutes." He reminds you. "You can do hard things even if you feel like you can't."

You nod, knowing he's right. "Ten minutes and I'm out."

Kieran smirks as he stands up, brushing the dirt off his pants. He reaches his hand out to you, and you gladly take it. "I'm going to regret this."

He ignores your comment as he opens the front door, grabbing the bottle of wine.

You can hear the cheerful chatter and laughter of the guests in the kitchen as you follow Kieran down the hallway.

Your eyes widen with awe when you enter the living room and see all the decorations. The walls are covered with colorful streamers and balloons, creating a festive atmosphere. A large banner that reads "Happy Birthday Jazz" hangs above the fireplace.

The coffee table is laden with gifts wrapped in shiny paper and ribbons. The couches and chairs are arranged around a low table.

The cake is decorated with white frosting and pink roses and has a number 40 made of candles on top. The room smells like vanilla and chocolate, making your mouth water.

You smile warmly when you see Kieran's daughter, Kinsey, race towards you, screaming at the top of her lungs with her arms open. She's wearing a pink dress and a tiara, looking like a little princess. You scoop her up in your arms and spin her around, making her giggle. She hugs you tightly and kisses your cheek, making you forget about your nerves briefly.

You greet Kinsey with a cheerful smile and hug her tightly. “Hi, sweet girl!” You say, admiring her, “You look so pretty today!”

She snuggles into your shoulder, wrapping her arms around your neck. You feel gratitude for the little girl who adores you unconditionally. You also feel relief, as if she is the human shield that will protect you from awkward encounters.

You carry her with you as you walk to the kitchen, where Jazz talks with her friends. You see her holding a glass of wine in one hand and gesturing animatedly with the other.

She looks radiant. You put Kinsey down on the floor and ruffled her hair. “I’ll see you later, okay?” You tell her softly. “Go have fun with your friends.”

She nods and runs off to join the other kids, leaving you to face Jazz. You brace yourself for the inevitable hug and kiss she always gives you, no matter how long it’s been since you last saw her.

“Babe!” She screams, spotting you from across the room. She pushes through the crowd and pulls you into her arms, kissing your cheek loudly. “You came! I’m so happy to see you!” You hug her back politely, feeling a bit overwhelmed by her enthusiasm. You’ve always loved Jazz, but sometimes she can be too much.

Especially today, when you’re feeling nervous and out of place.

“You look amazing!” She gushes, pulling back and scanning your outfit. “I love your dress! And your shoes! And your hair! You’re such a babe!”

You thank her for the compliments, feeling a bit self-conscious. You don’t feel like a babe at all.

“So, how are you?” She asks, taking your hand and leading you to the counter. She pours you a glass of wine and hands it to you. “How’s work? How’s life? How’s everything?”

You sip your wine and try to answer her questions as briefly as possible. You tell her that work is fine, life is okay, and everything is normal. You don’t want to get into details or share anything personal.

Jazz nods along, but you can tell she’s not satisfied with your answers. She wants more from you, more than you can give right now. She wants you to open up, confide in her, and be her best friend again.

But you can’t do that. Not today.

You start to feel claustrophobic and anxious, surrounded by people who know too much about you and expect too much from you.

You need some air, some space, some peace. “I’m going to step out back for a minute.” You say abruptly, interrupting Jazz’s rambling about her latest project.

Jazz looks at you with concern, but nods understandingly. “Okay,” she says softly. “But don’t be late for cake.”

“I’d never be late for cake.” You joke weakly, forcing a smile. You set down your glass and walk over to the sliding door leading to the backyard. You slide it open and step outside, feeling fresh air on your face.

You sigh long and close your eyes, resting your elbows on the deck's railing. You feel the sun on your skin and the breeze in your hair. You’re glad it’s a nice day, sunny and warm. You need some sun to cheer you up and chase away the gloom.

You open your eyes and look around the backyard, searching for a quiet spot to sit and relax. You see a table with some chairs under a large umbrella, away from the crowd. It looks inviting and peaceful. You decide to head there and enjoy some solitude. But then you stop in your tracks when you see him.

Rory.

He’s leaning against the railing on the opposite side of the deck; his back turned to you. The wind slightly tousled his brown hair, giving him a carefree look. He looks handsome and casual as if he doesn’t have a worry in the world.

He doesn’t notice you at first, but then the deck squeaks under your feet; he turns slightly to see who’s there.

His eyes meet yours, and your heart skips a beat. The person you wanted to avoid at all costs was now standing right in front of you. You put yourself in a trap, and there was no escape.

“Sorry.” You mumble, feeling your face heat up.

He shrugs his shoulders lightly. “It’s okay.” His voice was calm.

You don’t know what else to say, so you walk past him and head to the table. You pull a chair and sit down, hoping he’ll leave you alone.

You take out your phone and pretend to check your messages, avoiding his gaze. But he doesn’t leave. Instead, he follows you and sits across from you, making you feel even more uncomfortable.

You can feel his eyes on you, studying your every move. You wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, what he wants from you.

“You look nice.” He says suddenly, breaking the silence.

You put down your phone and look at him, feeling annoyed. “Do we have to do this?” You ask quietly, “It’s awkward, and I’m not nearly drunk enough to kiss and make up.”

Rory chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I was just trying to be nice.” He says, pausing for a moment and sheepishly says. “The last six months haven’t been easy for me either.”

“Okay, well, you left me, so I don’t feel sorry for you.” You snap back, not intending to be rude but not wanting to hear his excuses.

He flinches slightly as if your words hurt him, but before he can respond, Kieran steps outside.

You stand up, clutching your phone, and make a beeline for the door. You don’t want to stay here any longer, not with Rory sitting across from you, looking at you with those eyes that used to make you melt.

You don’t want to talk to him, or listen to him, or feel anything for him. You just want to get away from him, this party, and this whole mess.

You walk toward Kieran, who looks at you with a puzzled expression. “Am I interrupting?” He asks, glancing between you and Rory. “I can go if you guys need to talk.”

You shake your head quickly, forcing a smile. “Nope, I was just going in.” You lie, hoping he won’t notice the tremor in your voice. “I need to use the bathroom.”

Kieran nods, accepting your excuse. He steps aside and lets you pass.

He gives you a friendly wink and says, “Don’t fall in!”

You nod back, but you don’t say anything. You don’t plan to return for cake or anything else. You plan to leave without anyone noticing.

You walk through the hallway, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might stop you or talk to you.

You make it to the front door and reach for the handle, ready to escape. But then you hear a voice behind you calling your name.

“Hey, wait!”

You turn around and see Rory looking at you with mixed emotions. Surprise, confusion, hurt, hope. He walks towards you, his eyes pleading with you. “Can we just talk?” He asks softly. “Please, I wanna make things better between us?”

You feel guilt in your chest. You know he wants to talk to you, explain himself, and apologize. You know he still cares about you, maybe even loves you. But you also know it’s too late for that.

Too much has happened, too much has changed, too much has been broken.

You can’t go back to how things were or could have been. You can’t forgive him or yourself.

You shake your head firmly, fighting back the tears that threaten to spill over.

“No,” you say firmly. “We can’t.”

You open the door and step outside, leaving him behind.

You walk to your car, feeling his gaze on your back. You get in and start the engine, feeling relief. You drive away from the party, from Rory, from your past.

You don’t look back. You need to move on.

Part 2

#rory culkin x you #rory culkin character x reader #rory culkin fanfic #rory culkin x reader #rory culkin #Rory culkin Angst

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stilespeters · 7 months

Text

law abiding citizens (preview)

a/n: a little preview of a request i got that was absolutely brilliant. The creativity is honestly insane with everyone who requests stories. The enemies to lovers arc? im in love (you know who you are)

also im getting through requests very slow but I try to make them about 10k+ words😭.

summary: when the infamous Bloodyface enters the doors of Briarcliff Manor, a mysterious girl becomes infatuated with the idea of making the institution a living hell for him.

warnings: none in the preview

There was something about the fall weather that made you forget time. You would sit by the big window in the corner of the common room that shielded you from the restless eyes, and you would listen as the rain tapped softly against the window. Your hand would cling to the thick bars that covered the invisible wall, and the sounds of the water clashing against the glass drowned out every sound around you. Except for the song that continuously played on a loop in the background. God, if it was possible to shoot a song, you’d shoot Dominique.

In the earlier days when your mind wasn't fogged, you’d question what the song was really about, since you couldn't speak French. However after the third time of hearing it you lost all interest. Dominique could kiss a rat's ass for all you care.

Speaking of rats, Spivey was released from solitary and was now sitting in the chair next to the piano. He was one piece of trash that actually deserved to be here. The first day you arrived and settled in, he kept staring at you. He had been really interested in you and he kept repeating that you were young and pretty. When you revealed to him that you were 18 though, he seemed uninterested and left you alone.

Your knees were pressed against your chest and you held a cigarette between your fingers delicately as you brought it up to your lips. The smoke you inhaled actually cleared up a lot in your head.

Sometimes when Doris or Pepper would cause a scene in the common room you’d turn around and watch as everything unfolded. But after years, you already knew their every move. The people in here never knew what you were up to as you were a wild card, yet you knew everything about everyone. You had always been a watcher, just analyzing people and watching everything unfold, only stepping in when necessary.

You heard the door of the common room open and your gaze moved from the window to a man who stood cluelessly in the center. He looked bewildered around him and tried to take everything in, and you looked him up and down. He was a young man you’d seen in the newspapers ever since the shit he got exposed for; Bloodyface. For days you’d seen his face and for weeks you’ve heard his name slip from other patients. Hell, even orderlies seemed to fawn over him and his crimes. You were sure even James Dean wouldn't be talked about this much.

Shelly was the first person to introduce herself to him in a way only Shelly could. She would walk up to a new patient and try to seduce them with her long blonde hair and pretty face. Today, however, was the day sister Jude cut off her hair and her magic didn't work. You didn’t know if it didn't work because of her hair or if it was the patient who just wasn’t interested.

Bloodyface shoved her off him and scowled at her before sauntering further into the room.

Shelly roamed the room while chanting ‘he’s mine’ like she had done a couple of times before and you couldn't help but roll your eyes. Luckily she didn't bother you since you were still out of sight.

You took a glance at Bloodyface again and squinted your eyes. After reading about him for so long, you had grown a distaste for him, however as you saw him in real life, you didn’t know what you felt. He was a handsome man who looked to be in his mid to late twenties and his lost puppy dog gaze seemed to cast a spell on you. However you knew from experience to never judge based on faces.

You remembered judging your neighbor Jimmy when he first moved in. He was looking rough and very angry all the time. He had scars on his face and a frown 24/7 that made him look intimidating. However at a neighbor convention he told you he had been a war veteran in world war 1 being 19 and he fought in world war 2, being 47 years of age. He didn’t have to sign up for war the second time, but he did it because he wanted to make the world better. He had seen the true horrors of the world and it was evident in his face to this day that he never truly recovered from that. He only wanted to serve his country and do what was right. He wouldn’t hurt a fly, yet all the kids were afraid of him. That was when you truly realized to never judge a book by its cover.

The moment Bloodyface spun in circles like a lost puppy you decided to leave your hiding spot and walk a bit closer to the center. You weren’t sure what your plan was, but you couldn’t stand watching him be confused any longer.

When he placed his hands on his ears to drown out the song, he moved towards the record player to turn it off and you intervened.

“Wouldn't do that if I were you.” You spoke as you leaned against the wall while placing the cigarette between your lips. The man turned to look at you and you gave him a grin, “It’s a rule here. As long as the common room is open the song plays.” he stared blankly at you and you sighed.

“Any one of them would rat you out if they had the chance, they get a piece of candy and you get your ass beat,” he still looked at you as if you were speaking a different language, “Trust me, I learned the hard way when I first arrived here.”

He finally spoke up. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t trust me. You shouldn’t trust anyone. I’m just looking out for you.”

The silence except for the chanting of Denise in the corner and the song still on a loop, was deafening and so the conversation between you and Bloodyface made a lot of people turn heads. One of those people was Spivey, the little shit.

“Hey Bloodyface,” Both Bloodyface’s head and yours looked for the source of sound and you saw Spivey walk towards you. “You’re him right? You must be the most dangerous person here. I heard you skinned them alive, the last one being a colored girl. I guess you didn't like her color.” He taunted and you saw Bloodyface’s face contort into pure anger. Before you knew it, they were at each other's throats like animals and all the attention from the other patients were now fully focussed on the two wrestlers on the ground.

Pepper stood next to you as your arms were crossed and she had a worried look on her face. You knew what would happen if a fight were to break out in the common room. Jude would barge in, welts would be given, yada yada yada. Your eyes were downcast while you took another puff of your cigarette and when a whistle was heard, everyone ran to their previous spots to show they weren't involved.

You walked back to your hiding spot as well and saw sister Jude strut into the room with two orderlies behind her. They were Owen and Dennis. You almost missed the way Owen scanned the room until his eyes met Shelly. Your eyes squinted the tiniest bit in suspicion.

Bloodyface had a bloody face and pointed at Spivey. “He started it.”

Owen and Dennis ignored it and Owen smacked Bloodyface with his baton. You winced just slightly and saw how his body was dragged out of the common room.

An hour later, Kit Walker was put in a straitjacket and he felt uncomfortable as suddenly everything itched. His eyes were burning, his head was pounding due to the whack from one of the orderlies and his mind was fogged as everything felt surreal.

Sister Jude let him off with a warning since it was his first day but said that the next time she wouldn't go easy on him. A gentle gesture at best.

The only source of light went dark as it indicated someone stood in front of his cell, and as he looked up he saw you standing there. “Hey, I got something for you.”

He stood up and squinted his eyes as he walked over to the door. “How did you get back here?”

He saw you pause. “Doesn’t matter.”

Kit didn't question it and he saw you duck and slide something under the door. Although he couldn’t grab it with his hands, he saw it was a newspaper. “Boredom is your only friend in these cells they call ‘chambers’. Figured I’d get you something to read to kill time.”

Kit looked at your features and tried to spot any sign of falseness since he wasn’t used to people actually talking to him like he was a normal human being. He tried to find out whether your intentions were true or if you had ulterior motives. He couldn't remember the last time someone did something nice for him let alone have a decent conversation. “Why are you being so kind to me?”

He saw your eyes soften yet harden at the same time. “What you put out into the world comes back to you.”

“So what did you put out into the world to get locked up in a place like this?”

“A lot of questions…” Your eyebrows raised and you indicated that you didn't know his name.

“Kit.” He saw you hum.

“That’s a question that will be answered with time, Kit. It doesn't concern you for now.” Kit nodded understandingly and realized it might have been an inappropriate question.

“So, you want to tell me how you got in here? Spivey said something about you being the infamous Bloody face.”

“Why should I give you an answer when you won’t give me one?” It came out harsher than he wanted and he wanted to apologize.

“Careful now, Kit. I’m not someone you like to have as an enemy here.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not insane. I don’t belong here.”

“Yet you’re here for a reason.” Kit leaned in a bit closer, “Why?”

You clenched your jaw shut and looked down at your feet. He sure was dedicated on finding answers. You weren’t gonna tell him the truth, however you were gonna simplify it.

“Bad people pulled on strings and convinced everyone I was crazy. All I could do was tell them the truth but I didn’t stand a chance against socialites. I was taken from my home involuntarily and I’m most likely set to spend the rest of my life here, only because I made a stupid mistake.”

Kit nodded quietly and scraped his throat. He noticed the silence after you answered and he wanted to let you know you weren’t alone.

Now that you have answered it was his turn. “To answer your question, they think I’m him. They think I’m Bloodyface.” He couldn't read your emotions due to the lighting and because he was too tired and drained to focus. “Ah, the celebrity. I’m almost jealous of your fame. You’ve become a household name here. I didn’t recognize who you were when I saw you.” you lied. You knew who he was the second he stepped foot in this place. “So, are you? Did you?”

“What?”

“Are you actually bloody face? Did you kill those women, your wife?”

“No. And I’m not crazy.” He was quick to answer and your head cocked to the side.

“Hmm.” you kissed the back of your teeth, again. Kit didn’t know what was going through your mind. “Interesting.”

A voice was heard in the distance and your head snapped to the side. “Well I should go before they notice I’m missing.”

“Thanks for the paper, I really appreciate it.” He gave you a genuine smile.

“No problem.”

Before Kit could blink, you were gone and he got closer to the barns to whisper-shout.

“Hey, what’s your name?” His ear was pressed against the hard and cold metal, and he could faintly hear a voice whisper back.

“Y/n.”

Kit felt a shiver of warmth over his body by the newspaper you’ve given him. He really appreciated that you were nice to him since he was terrified of this place. He had nightmares in his cell about it and when he was finally handed out to the institution he knew he would never see his garden again or the lake next to it. Just the thought of someone doing something kind to him like he was normal and the thought he wasn’t alone made him feel a bit more relaxed.

However what he didn’t know was that you indeed had ulterior motives. You were gonna make this place live up to the reputation Briarcliff had;hell on earth. Starting with a newspaper.

The next day you were all in the common room again. It was still raining and you decided to sit on something soft this time. Although your hiding spot was very comfortable, you did feel the hardness of the stone having an effect on your ass and back posture. You found a place on the sofa next to Otis who was picking his nose and you tried your best to ignore it. You cringed and looked the other way until he stood up to dance with Doris. Pepper wanted to dance too but they rebuffed her. You felt bad for her.

Footsteps were heard as the door opened and Kit walked into the room. From a distance you could tell he had a bruise on his hand, a black eye and a bandage on his cheek from the brawl yesterday. His eyes scanned everyone until they landed on you and he made his way to you and sat down on the spot where Otis was sitting.

“Hey,” he started and you gave him a nod in return. “Jude go easy on you?”

“Yeah,” you noticed how he winced when he sat down. “She says that the next time I mess up she’s not gonna be nice.”

“Typical Jude.” you replied and both of you watched how Pepper kept chanting “Pepper dance” to the odd couple in the center. You looked to your right to see Kit’s mouth slightly opened as he gawked at the trio. You could practically hear his thoughts and sighed.

“Yes.”

Kit looked up at you and scrunched his eyebrows. “The answer is yes. They’re always like that, better get used to it.”

“How did you know I was thinking that?”

“It’s not hard to read people.”

It was like his eyes bore a hole into your side profile. “Anyway, most of the people here are harmless. They’re kinda weird, but harmless. There are a few people you need to watch out for.”

“Like Spivey?”

“Yeah Spivey is an example, always tryna look for trouble and sticking his nose in the business of other people. He is the definition of a scumbag.”

“Who else do I need to look out for?” His eyebrows were still scrunched like he was confused all the time and you scanned the room and pointed at a woman in the corner. “That’s Harriet. She’s been here the longest. No one gets a word out of her. Rumor goes that she stared down the barrel of a gun more times than she ever spoke.”

The woman looked like she was in her mid sixties and she looked mummified as she stared into the void. As if she knew her name was called out even in the softest tone of your voice, she suddenly looked at the two of you and you both immediately diverted your gaze elsewhere.

“Oops, better not to say her name here.” You stared at the table in front of you.

“What about you? Where do you stand in all of these people.”

You were baffled how Kit never backed down on asking questions. “You Kit,” you placed your hand on his thigh for a split second, Kit almost missed it but the feeling made his eyebrows frown. You retracted your hand quickly and pretended nothing happened. “You just remember to never cross with me. Most of these people leave me alone because they have that printed in their system.”

There had to be a reason why people respected you here. Kit didn’t know why exactly.

He nodded at that and didn’t question it further. You stared at his legs and sighed. “Sister Jude really did go easy on you, huh?”

“What?”

“Well it’s either that or you have a very high pain tolerance. The first time I wreaked havoc in this place, I couldn’t sit for a week. She said she went easy on me but even talking about it now I still feel the welts engraved.” You chuckled and Kit didn’t know whether to chuckle too or keep quiet. Instead he decided to ask another question.

“Is sister Jude always so…” He tried to find the right word.

“On edge? No. She’s always strutting around the place like she owns it,” you paused. “Well technically she does kinda own it with the Monsignor. Anyway, she’s only upset when someone has broken the rules. Why ask?”

“She looked very distressed this morning when we spoke during kitchen detail.” You kissed the back of your teeth.

“Seems like your arrival has caused quite a bit of trouble, Kit. If it’s the second day Jude is frantic, it’s not a good sign.”

There was silence between you two and if it weren’t for the known fact he was a malicious serial killer, you would have actually thought he was a decent man. Very humble and not very present in the best way possible. You liked quiet people. They made your chaotic mind at ease. It made you feel calm and that was something you craved. Being in an asylum, one of the worst places was the common room because of the filth and chaotic people. You actually quite liked solitary in your own small room because at least there no one was chanting. Oh and the walls were thick enough to keep anything out, like the song Dominique.

Kit broke the silence after a few minutes. “Hey Y/n.”

“Hmm?”

“The paper you gave me, it’s not from recent dates. It’s from 1949. The front page is about a missing girl.” You didn’t look him in the eye and instead continued staring at the table.

You tried to find a quick lie. Luckily you were used to it and you were sharp as always. “Oh… yeah that’s because we don’t really get the news often and because of that, we have very limited papers. I stole it for you from the archives.”

Kit frowned but seemed satisfied with that answer nevertheless.

Heels were heard and Doris and Otis stopped dancing as the noise was a clear sign Jude was coming. They hurried to the side where the dusty piano was standing and stared everywhere and nowhere. Jude walked in from around the corner and locked the door behind her, causing her to get the attention of everyone. Everything became quiet except for the dramatic taps of sister Jude’s boots.

“When I was given the task of running this institution, the Monsignor and I had great plans. We would not only house and feed the people who had nowhere else to go, thrown on the streets like trash, we’d heal them from the horrors this world could give. Even if they were the horror itself.” She slowly walked further and scanned everyone. “I have had faith and patience for everyone. And how do you repay me? With disappointment. Somebody had the audacity to break into my office and steal… something valuable. Now I demand the person who did this to confess this instant.”

No one said anything out of fear, and because no one knew what she was talking about.

“Confess!” Her voice sounded shrill as the sound bounced off the walls.

Kit slowly raised his hand and you quirked an eyebrow. “What was stolen, sister Jude?”

Jude’s jaw was clenched as the question was asked and she turned to look at Kit. “That doesn’t concern you Mr Walker. The person who did it knows what I’m referring to.”

Kit became quiet and you almost admired him for speaking while Jude was angry.

Her eyes diverted from Kit to you and she almost shot fireballs out of her eyes from how angry they stood. She pointed an accusing finger at you.

“Don’t think I’m not onto you, miss Y/n. Always slithering around, playing games with people. You think you’re so clever. I know that look you’re giving me. You know more than you let on…”

You didn’t answer her and had a stoic look on your face. When she realized she wasn’t getting anything from you, she walked further to accuse other people. When Jude was at the end of the room, Kit leaned in and whispered in your ear.

“You’re tellin me she’s really not always like that?”

“Most of the time not. I haven't seen her this upset in a while.”

He nodded at that and his eyes wandered cluelessly back to sister Jude. Your eyes diverted from Jude in the distance to Kit’s side profile. You watched as his nose flared for a second before coughing and you looked down. You had to remind yourself that he was a bad person. That he killed women who had a bright future ahead of them. That any of those women in their position could have been you. You could have been one of the women who was locked in his basement after being skinned and assaulted. That thought made your blood boil and you decided then and there it was all worth it what you had planned.

Kit got startled the moment you stood up from your place and coughed loudly to announce something. Jude turned around and saw it was you.

“When I came back from kitchen detail, I came across Kit,” you didn’t look at him and instead, you made puppy eyes as you sobbed. “He had some sort of news paper in his hand and in his other hand was a key. We made eye contact and I told him that I didn’t see anything and ran off. Just thinking back about the cold and harsh look he gave me makes me shiver,” You could feel Kit’s burning eyes on you as you continued to speak yet you paid no attention to it. Jude walked closer as she digested your words.

“I wonder what he could have done if I didn't run away. Just now he threatened that if I told on him he would tell on me. He said that no one would believe me.” Jude looked at one of the orderlies at the side and pointed a finger at him.

“Owen, did you not lock his chamber after he was in my office? This is the third time you forgot to lock someone's room.”

Before Owen could say anything, she looked back at Kit. “Look at you. if Y/n’s right you’re not only a murderer. You’re a murderous pickpocket. I knew you were trouble when you walked in.”

Kit tried to protest. “I- I- she’s lying,” he looked at you not in anger but in betrayal. The only person who spoke to him like a normal human being turned out to be a rat. You were the person he had to look out for. Beatings from an honorless man like Spivey was nothing compared to the knife in his back from you. Maybe he grew attached too quickly but it still hurt.

He should have known better than to digest the kind words and actions of a woman, after he was accused of being a malicious serial killer.

“Search him.” Jude commanded and Kit wanted to stand up to try and run away out of instinct, but he then realized the doors were locked. There was nowhere to go.

“Thinking of running away now, are ya? A man with a clean conscience has no desire to flee.”

One of the orderlies with the name tag Dennis held him and the other one called Owen searched his pockets. “I didn’t steal anythi-”

Before he could finish his sentence, Owen fisted a small object out of his pocket and Kit was flabbergasted to say the least. He figured you must have planted them there when you had touched his thigh. You were quick with it but he had felt it. He already had a weird feeling as to why you did that but now he realized why.

In Owen’s fingers was a ring with a key dangling from it. If Kit seemed flabbergasted before then now he looked as if he witnessed an exorcism.

This was the first time you looked at Kit and didn’t feel remorse. If he is upset by the betrayal of a person he met not even 24 hours ago, then he doesn't know what those poor women went through. What he did to them is a thousand fold worse than what you just did. You wanted him to suffer here, because he gets a chance at life and not the girls he killed.

“Search his chamber.” Jude ordered and Owen held him locked in his grip as the other orderly walked out of the room to presumably Kit’s room.

Jude eyed Kit viciously and you knew Jude was angry once she found the newspaper. You knew what Jude was looking for, hence why you stole it, you just didn’t know why it upset her that much.

Ever since sister Mary Eunice had acted strangely out of nowhere, papers kept showing up about one subject. It was always the same, always the same date and always the same news. A paper from 1949 about a missing girl on the front. Every time you caught Jude throwing it in the trash, you reckoned it was something important. Something that was bothering her immensely. However you truly realized how much it bothered her when you saw Jude burn it in one of the ovens.

You had fisted one of the papers out of the trash and put it in your pillow. It wasn’t like your bed got cleaned so no one would blink an eye. It helped that the pillow was as hard as rocks.

Like you said, you were a watcher. Always analyzing everyone to see their weaknesses and use it against them if need be. Knowledge was power to you.

Jude came back with nothing yet her angry look was even more angry yet stoic at the same time, and you knew she found the paper you had given Kit. It was obvious she wasn’t gonna take it with her to the common room for everyone to see her little secret.

She looked at you as she stood in front of Kit. “You keep surprising me, miss Y/n.”

She then looked at Kit and curled her finger to motion him forward. “Kit Walker, come with me.”

Kit looked defenseless as he gave in. He realized he couldn't protest because of the strong grip of the orderly and so everyone in the common room watched as he was taken away. It wasn’t an unfamiliar feeling to him, as he felt the same eyes and the feeling of dread the day he was arrested in his home. His neighbors had heard the commotion of the cops and saw how Kit had been handcuffed and taken into custody in the middle of the night after he himself called the police. It didn’t matter whether he pleaded or tried to convince everyone it wasn’t him, because no one listened. No one wanted to listen and no one believed him.

This time it was nothing different. The only thing that was different was the backstabbing feeling and the handcuffs.

You were right when you had told him not to trust anyone, yet he did. And now he was paying the price.

He turned his head one more time as the orderlies grip were too tight, and he locked eyes with you. You had a stoic look on your face, no ounce of remorse or happiness. You just looked satisfied. His head turned back in defeat and he turned the corner.

After the punishment he was given, he truly realized why people were afraid of sister Jude. He truly digested the gravity of the situation and he now knew to never mess with you.

You were right when you said he wouldn’t want you as an enemy.

end of preview

#evan peters #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #evan peters x you #kit walker #kit walker x reader #kit walker x y/n #kit walker smut #kit walker x you

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cloveroctobers · 6 months

Text

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 9. Guero

A/N: im trying my best to complete my list for this fall season. In MY brain winter doesn’t start until December hits and winter isn’t officially until late December which blows my mind every time I look it up lol but don’t come at me X-mas lovers because I get it! just don’t bring that Holly jolly bs my way just yet 😉!!! Anyways missed my man so he’s next up for this short thing.

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: “Please, I’m begging you. don’t make me watch the nightmare before Christmas again.”

WARNINGS: language, family drama, mentions of violence, + slightly sexual content towards the bottom.

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

“Fucking bitch makes me sick!” You huff as you flail the bed sheet up into the air for what should have been the fifth time.

Guero is smirking to himself, fresh out of the shower in his lounge wear, leaning against the doorframe that leads back into the bathroom.

You just got back from your outing with your sister-in-law and niece maybe twenty minutes ago but Guero figured things must have gone left when he heard you mumbling to yourself while he was drying off. He even called out to you through the crack of the door as he got dressed asking who you were talking to, since he didn’t see you on the phone and you didn’t hesitate to continue your rants.

“What she do this time?” Guero questions, knowing this tangent was aimed at your sister-in-law, since you only tolerated her and adored your niece.

Throwing the sheet against the mattress in frustration you whip around to face your boyfriend, “what doesn’t she do?! You know how she is.”

Guero nodded his head. He did in fact know how your sister-in-law was and he also didn’t care for her either—not just because you didn’t fuck with her but they got into a debate about guns that left a sour taste in Guero’s mouth. He didn’t have to engage with her much like you did but he definitely listened every time you vented that she annoyed the shit out of you…so in a sense she was still around him too.

He waited for you to continue as you began pacing now, “was I not tasked a week ago to get Ely her dress for the fall dance because her mother’s dumbass was too busy partying with her best friend of a mayor—who’s she’s probably screwing and my brother’s oblivious ass was too tied up with work?”

Eloise, or as you both called her, “Ely,” was your twelve year old niece that was just getting into fragrances and dresses—which was a complete contrast to her mother. It was no shock to you that her mother, Reagan put that off on you since she wasn’t the most stylish and didn’t really connect to her daughter in that way.

“Hell yeah you were,“ Guero said, “you were almost as excited as Ely was. What went down?”

You turned to work at the sheets again, straightening them out in the air and failing to get them to fit on the corners, “I go to this lunch date with them just to find out Reagan returned the dress! Said it was too inappropriate to wear to a middle school dance. And that I was trying to make Ely to look like a hoe since she’s already top heavy.”

Guero frowned, “the one you showed me a pic of? That little burgundy shit with the puff sleeves and flows at the bottom? I don’t get what was wrong with it? Ely looked pretty and happy in it.”

“Yes! Nothing was wrong with it! It wasn’t too tight or short. Reagan was all smiles when I dropped Ely off that night too, almost thankful that I got something done that her ass should have been doing.” You hissed and balled up the sheets out of frustration.

Guero stepped in then, gently prying the sheets from your hands to put the sheet on the bed correctly. It was something you mentioned on your first date that you were always criticized for not making your bed right as a kid so your potential significant other had to be down with at least putting the sheets on.

Childhood trauma was a true bitch…much like sister-in-law’s apparently.

Guero repeated, “So Reagan went and returned it?”

“Yeah and I think she truly did it out of spite because you won’t believe the dress she got Ely,” you informed with your arms crossed, watching as Guero put the sheets on with ease, “she’s gonna make my niece look like a pilgrim at that dance.”

Guero glanced at you, “that bad?”

“And I told her straight to her face when she showed me a video, that the dress Ely originally picked out was much more fitting than that floor length dress. I wasn’t rude about it or anything.”

“Floor-length? Nah, that’s crazy. What she say after that?”

“That I wouldn’t know the first thing about appropriate wear considering what I wore when I first met you.”

Guero furrowed his brows, “fuck is she getting at with that? We met at the damn fair in hot ass Arizona!”

“Exactly,” you agreed, “the fact that she even remembered that back then let’s me know that she’s been keeping tabs on me just to talk shit and probably about me to Ely too but I don’t care! She can run her mouth all she wants but don’t try to take your insecurities out on Ely. That’s when it becomes a problem for me.”

Regan was a jealous person, you peeped that from the first day you met her unwillingly at your seventeenth birthday party. She barely let your brother mingle alone without interjecting herself into their conversations and this was after she was already introduced to family and friends. You knew she wasn’t the person for your older brother, Kelvin but he insisted on settling for her after getting his heartbroken by an ex who cheated on him and fell in love with his (then) best friend during their college years. He didn’t give himself enough time to heal right before he was back into another relationship with the very set in her ways Reagan. There was a five year age gap between you and your brother and sure you didn’t understand it all back then but you were always aware that your brother tended to love long.

As siblings you didn’t always see eye to eye and when he did bring his serious significant others around you were open to them opposed to him who gave yours the third degree. Just because you were his little sister didn’t mean you wouldn’t look out for him either. The moment you expressed your doubts of Reagan being the woman of his dreams, he decides he’s going to propose to her despite their heavy arguments of not being trusting of each other or really in love.

Eloise wasn’t far behind after the wedding if you connect the dots.

It was odd to you that you always got scolded for voicing your opinions on your brother’s well-being by your parents, that you were always expected to keep your mouth shut and just follow along but that same energy was not reciprocated when it came to Kelvin. He was the older brother, he was “supposed,” to set the standard for you but at the same time you would always be different people.

Funny how that turned out now with your parents not wanting to be bothered with Reagan but preferred your four year going strong relationship with Javier “Guero,” Bardales.

“She’s the fucken worse,” Guero says fixing his side of the bed after you retrieved the duvet from the bay window seat, “was the kid messed up about it?”

“Oh absolutely, it was written all over her face and you know how she shields her true personality away when her mom’s around,” you say then clench your jaw which would probably trigger your TMJ later but you continue, “I’m so pissed with Reagan. Of course kids can’t always get their way but you don’t have to shit all over their enjoyment because of your own personal problems!”

“Did you tell Kel about it?” Guero smacks the pillow against the headboard, already sensing that was a lost cause.

He was just waiting for the day that Kel kicked Reagan to the curb. Now listen, Guero wasn’t down with divorce, given that his own parents went through it and it resulted in lost time Guero got to spend with his own dad but…Guero actually liked Kel, although he gave him shit from the very beginning he walked into your life but they grew to actually like each other. Guero had his own fun and deep conversations with Kel, noticing that he was also most like himself whenever Reagan wasn’t around. And one thing about Guero, if he saw someone he cared about being held back by someone else? he was always ready to do something about it; especially if the person was capable but taking too long to go through with some action.

Guero was a actions kinda guy.

“For what? That’s like talking to a brick wall and I’d rather save my breath.” You responded placing your hands on your hips before a smile spread over your lips.

Guero stared at the wicked expression on your face, “…what’d you do? We gotta hide the body?”

You snickered and then let out a sigh, “That time hasn’t come yet but my breaking point is among the Horizon I fear.”

Here you go with the dramatic stare off into the distance for a moment that it has Guero jumping onto the bed to get to you. The anticipation was bugging him and you were well aware as you kept smiling at him.

Resting your hands on his shoulders you said, “I went back and repurchased the dress and snipped the tags off. Reagan’s going away that same day as the dance to some conference in D.C. so obviously Ely’s gonna get ready here instead with her little girlies and non-binary friends.”

Guero wasn’t thrilled about some pre-teens being at his shared spot with you but the expression on your face made him ignore that.

“That’s what I’m talking’ about baby! Fuck what Bride of Chucky has to say, you’re more of a mother to Ely anyways.” Guero hyped you up as he gripped the sides of your neck to place a kiss right in between your brows.

You brushed your shoulders off, “and if she finds out and decides to get buck with me, I got something for that ass. She just doesn’t know that I’ve been counting on the day.”

Guero knew you meant that too and that made him smile. He was never above violence, it was always fuck around and find out in his mind. He’s been by your side for four years now and knew it took a lot to drive you to that point but he always encouraged you to speak up for yourself too since it was always conditioned for you to keep it all locked in.

Not when it came to Reagan though and he knew you had it in you, hearing of the fights you got into in your teenage years (one story consisted of: aged sixteen banging some girl’s face into the pavement, a story your father told him about—and another : aged thirteen with you jumping in to fight some older guys that tried to jump your brother at his high school graduation party—just to name two of Guero’s favorite stories) and a recent road rage incident that happened two years ago which almost sent Guero into cardiac arrest.

So his girl was never no pussy, don’t let the face fool you.

Guero instigated, “I dunno…ain’t she on a softball team?”

“She was until she fucked up her rotator cuff.” You gave the man a dark stare, “you think beer muscles scare me?”

Guero snickered and put his hands up in surrender, “relax baby, I’m just fucking with you. No need to go assassin on me.”

“You want me to be one so bad.” You rolled your eyes as Guero reaches out to slip his hands over your hips.

He has no shame in his game as he nods his heads at you, “oh yeah, listen it’ll be the dream costume, huh?”

“You just want to see me in more leather.”

“Yeah I do.” Guero laughs before nipping your bottom lip.

You flick your French curls over your shoulder as you drape your wrists behind Guero’s head, leaning to brush your lips against his ear you state, “that’s just too bad, daddy.”

Guero let out a groan as you untangle yourself from him, hand going right to his chest, almost as if you just stabbed him while he flops back onto the bed. “Such a tease and these are the things I get when I just made the damn bed?”

“Oh the horror! Oh the bare minimum!” You joke as you plop on the edge of the king sized bed after locating the remote for the mounted flat screen, “that’s what you get for not being my bone daddy last year.”

Guero sits up on his elbows, “you’re still pressed about that? Baby I got enough art on my skin already, now why would you want to decorate this handsome face? Which is my best art piece.” He winks at you as you scoff at him from over your shoulder.

Shushing the man, you don’t grant him with a response as the movie begins to roll the credits and you start to bounce from side to side at the music.

Guero glares at the tv, “please, I’m begging you. Don’t make me watch the nightmare before Christmas again.”

Ever since late September hit, you started off with the light hearted fall themed movies first. This was your third time now watching the nightmare before Christmas and Halloween wasn’t even near! Now if Guero suggested watching something like, “Terrifier,” then you’d be ready to kick him out the house or go sleep at a friend’s instead.

“This is my comfort movie, let me vibe.”

Guero sighs, sitting up to sit beside you to glance at the screen before settling his eyes back on you. It had to be a good solid two minutes of Guero just watching you that even when you tried to grip his chin to face the tv again, he wouldn’t budge.

Stubborn ass.

“You know, I could be your comfort too.” He places his hand right on your thigh.

“Don’t worry you already are,” you say eyes still locked on the screen with your fingers holding onto his jaw, “if you weren’t, I would have been dropped your ass.”

Guero breathed out a laugh as he quickly gets to his feet and yanks you up, “Oh so like this?”

Before you can even process what’s happening, you’re being lifted over Guero’s shoulder just to be slammed right back onto the bed. “You’ll never be my Roman reigns.” You puffed out.

Guero kisses his biceps before turning his expression serious, “and he’ll never get to touch this belt, which will always be mine just so you know.”

You smirk up at Guero as he gets to work unfastening the belt on your low-rise jeans.

And when you’re bare, exposed to the fall chilliness in the air of your bedroom, you keep your eyes on Guero as he places open-mouthed kisses with his incredibly soft lips against your lower belly. He trails a feather-like touch against the side of your ass as he knocked your right thigh to the side so he can get better adjusted.

“Whatchu looking at me for? Eyes on the movie, remember babe?” Guero says with his lips right above your throbbing center.

His reaches a hand right between the valley of your pale pink sweater covered breasts to grip your jaw to tilt upwards instead.

You weren’t sure how this man thought you were supposed to be focused on the iconic film when there were so many sensations going on. From the light scratches of the copper leaves against the bedroom window, the softness of the moss colored duvet, the theatrics of the soundtrack playing from the classic animation film, and the firm but solace grip of a loved one’s touch…it was all just what you needed to get by.

⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓ ⛓𓌹*♰*𓌺⛓

Continue with my fall anthology prompts here.

#queued #mayans mc #mayans fx #mayans mc x reader #mayans imagine #mayans x reader #guero mayans mc #Guero Mayans #andrew jacobs #fall prompts #mayans season 5

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bowieandqueen11 · 2 years

Text

Mr. Spooktacular / Jimmy McGill Imagine

Request: GIRLLLL YOU WRITE FOR BETTER CALL SAUL???? IM ABSOLUTELY FOAMING AT THE MOUTH YOU ALWAYS KNOW WHAT'S UP IM DYING!!!! i would like to request something for Halloween with jimmy but idk what, something fluffy up to you! dealers choice! im so excited to see how you write him ♥️♥️

This is such a lovely request and I’ve made it so stupid @offbrand-slasher I’m so sorry I just feel like he’d be the type of guy to love dressing up to answer the door lmao ily!!

(I do not own Better Call Saul or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @santavenganza.)

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

‘Mwahahah, have a spooktacular Halloween! And don’t forget kids, to tell your lovely nanas and bobos where to come for some treats that don’t look like they’ve been shot out from a Chocolate Factory....’

Jimmy’s voice trails out as the kids recede down the outer apartment block stairs, shaking their pumpkin buckets in their hands to try and suss how many sweets they bagged this time; his smile finally drops as the last bit of mummy toilet paper disappears over the pavement, and he rubs his chin contemplatively as he turns and shuts the door, once again, behind him. It takes him a moment to realise he’s managed to wipe off half of the gaudy cream ‘Dracula-esque’ makeup off his chin (as he had sardonically called it when he picked the half-price tube off the drug store shelf on your joint way back from the office that afternoon). When he sees it smeared across his fingers, he whines in exasperation and makes you chortle as he begins to try and wipe it off onto the bin bag looking cape he’s tied across his shoulders.

Pulling his fake teeth out, he points over to where you’re lounging on the couch, half-caught in a stretched yawn by his wagging pointer finger. ‘What, exactly, are you laughing at? I hope it’s not my stunning outfit - this thing cost me nearly twenty bucks, but I think it was worth it.’ He finishes his sad scan over his cheap nylon trousers and fake blood stained frilled shirt with a small smile and ostentatious flick back of his gelled hair. ‘At least it’s got great re-use value: I’ll be able to wear it into HHM next week and still look more sprightly than Howard does.’

You shake your head with as much indignation on Hamlin’s behalf as you can, but Jimmy still smiles and comes shimmying his shoulders towards you. Pressing the palm of your hand to your lips, you try to stop the snorting laugh from busting out as Jimmy drops the near empty candy bowl on the table and kneels down to start dumping freshly opened bags of hard sweets into its depths. Bless his heart, he looks so happy, so childlike and innocent again as he meticulously opens the plastic and grins at the way the sweets fall between his fingers. He’s humming gently to himself, an old country tune his father often used to listen to in the small store shop when Autumn time began to roll around the dusty grounds; when the two of them used to stay late after closing shop to huddle on overturned milk crates in the middle of the shop floor and choose a bag of sweets to share after the Halloween sales were over again for the year. Back in the days when Chuck used to roll up punctiliously after his extra evening classes and be glad to see Jimmy enjoying himself through the store window, sighing sweet relief as he perched down next to his brother and stayed there until the sun would begin to flood over the heads of the golden cornfields and blind his tired eyes.

He blinks back to himself, not realising he had been staring down at his hands for the past thirty seconds, when you gently kick your bare feet against the expanse of his back. He looks behind him, rising up to kneel between your knees and waiting, tenderly and expectantly and as if he had all the time in the world to just gaze and admire you, for you to speak.

‘You know’, you start ‘it wasn’t even the outfit. It was the fact that they were literal nine year olds you were shouting elder law rhetoric at, Jimmy.’ You affectionately run your hand over his greased up hair, and appreciate the way his shoulders shiver as his head leans back to follow your touch.

‘Phhh’, he waves a hand, and quickly uses it to grab your retreating wrist and place it back on top of his head, like a lonely puppy just begging for someone to show him love. You run your finger down the shell of his ear, teasingly pulling at the lobe as he watches you with eyes wide enough to store all the burning love of the universe within, before snaking your hand into his shirt pocket and nicking one of the candy bars he had slotted in there to eat later. He bats his plastic cape behind him with a twisted frown, which soon falls into a pleading pout as he watches you unwrap and take a bite out of his caramel bar.

‘One: trust me, it’s never too early to get legal advice. They’ll be old people too one day! And trust me, Jimmy McGill will be a family brand for years to come - name up in lights kind of thing. Two: I think you’ll find... that was mine.’

‘Too bad, now it belongs to me.’

You take another bite and chew obnoxiously extravagantly, moaning after each swallow and pretending not to notice the way Jimmy’s eyes rove over your face with a flash of irk and clouding adamant awe. He comes scrambling towards you, crawling on his hands and knees until he’s levered himself up onto the sofa beside you. For a while, it’s peaceful: Jimmy lowers your head onto your shoulder, careful to turn his cheek so the makeup is just lingering above your skin. You wrap your arms tightly around his midriff and squeeze, and Jimmy snorts out a deep breath as he settles back to rest against your chest, the heavy weight in his chest flowing out of his body and bustling away to linger in the dark shadows that cut across the corners of the room, just slight out of the edge of his vision. He turns his head back towards the light: towards you, and tries to focus again on the double bill of horror movie that begins to roll to a close on the cable tv.

Yet he can’t help himself. It takes less than ten minutes for his focus to wander, for his mind to claw its way back up to you, and the tilt of his head further up your neck soon follows. Like the soft moonlight dying away under the douse of the raging sun, he peers up at you from behind hooded, love struck eyes and just watches the flickers of black and white dance over your face. Without even batting an eye, you lower the half-eaten chocolate bar to his lips and shove it into his mouth so he can share a bite.

Your reverie is broken by the sharp sound of another trick or treater knocking fervently at the door.

‘Ooh, there’s the next lot to fall victim to my-’, he stops as he jumps out of your arms and spins round to face you, wiping the fake teeth back off the table and shoving them into his mouth. With an exaggerated comical baring of his teeth and raised eyebrows at you, he holds out his arms loosely in front of his chest and pretends to take small tip toe steps towards you. ‘The victims of my sharp wit and dashing legal pricing.’

‘You know, when you walk around like that you look more like a zombie than a vampire.’

He drops his arms, ignoring the sound of bustling, giggling footsteps marching around on the small veranda outside the door, and the constant ringing of the front bell. Scrambling towards you like a rat being bashed at with a brush, he launches: tickling your sides until you’re begging for him to stop.

‘You know, you’ve just lost your cuddling privileges for the night.’

#better call saul #jimmy mcgill #saul goodman #better call saul imagine #jimmy mcgill imagine #saul goodman imagine #jimmy mcgill x reader #saul goodman x reader #halloween #halloween imagine #bob odenkirk #breaking bad #breaking bad imagine #jimmy mcgill fluff #saul goodman fluff #bcs #bcs imagine #better call saul fluff

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