#p!atd reader insert

You run your fingers through your hair for the millionth time as you paced the floor. It was typical for you two to fight every now and then, but it wasn't something you both gave in to often.

Dallon was usually very reasonable and always wanted to talk things over than have a screaming match, but tonight was rare. Tonight was a night were he wanted to pick a fight. He was in a bad mood when he came back from a tour meeting with Brendon. You sensed it as soon as he stepped through the door.

There was no kiss as a greeting, he just laid his bag on the counter and walked into the living room. You wanted to follow him, but opted to give him space as you continued putting groceries up in the kitchen.

It wasn't long before he drifted into the kitchen, sitting at the bar, watching you stock the refrigerator.

He huffed, catching your attention, "Something wrong, Dal?"

He rolled his eyes, "Of course something's wrong."

"You don't have to have an attitude,"

"I don't have one." He said while rolling his eyes again.

You placed the last item in the fridge, closing it, "Well when you decide to stop rolling your eyes, then you can come talk to me, okay?"

"Why do you have to be such a bitch?"

You could feel your eyes go wide. This was very un-Dallon like behavior and your brain should have processed this, but you couldn't get over what he just said. You felt hurt.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Just because you let Brendon run all over you does not mean you get to come home and act like a ass."

"I wouldn't have to act like a ass if you'd just let me talk to you, but no, I have an attitude." He rolled his eyes, "I let you bitch at me all the time, but I can't do the same?"

"The difference is that I don't take it out on you like you're taking it out on me."

"I'm not taking it out on you!" He slammed his hands down, making you flinch.

"Really? Do you see how you're acting?"

He rolls his eyes, grabbing his bag and keys from the table. You watch him open the door, slamming it as he leaves.

At first you didn't worry, he just needed some time to cool off and get a grip on the situation, but as it got dark outside, you felt your stomach drop. You grabbed your phone, dialing Brendon.

"(Y/n)?"

"Have you seen Dallon?" You whispered, pacing around the apartment.

"Not since the meeting, is everything alright?"

"We got into a fight when he got home and he left. He's been gone for awhile."

Brendon huffed, "The meeting was a little rough, but I'm sure he'll be home soon, okay? If he's not back in a hour call back and I'll have Zack look for him."

"Thanks, Bren."

"No problem, I'm sure he's fine, (y/n)."

When you hung up, you felt tears prick your eyes and before you knew it, you were crying. You walked back into the bedroom, wiping at your tears before deciding to pull on one of his sweaters. It was warm and smelt like him, which only brought on more tears.

You paced the bedroom before you wondered back into the kitchen, finding things to put away or clean.

After wiping all the counter tops down, you gave in and called his phone, listening as it rang until you heard his voicemail. You let it beep, taking in a deep breath, "Dal, I know you're mad, but please call and let me know you're okay. I love you."

You felt the tears well up in your eyes, looking down at the dopey photo you put as his phone contact.

What if he never comes back?

It was ridiculous thought, but it settled in your mind and weighed heavy on your heart. You let the tears flow freely, not even trying to fight them as you typed out a text message to him, hoping for a reply.

Realizing that you weren't going to get a reply, you found a load of laundry to do while you wait. You put it hrough the washer and dryer, checking your phone every couple of minutes, still with no reply.

There was feeling eating away at your stomach. What if he wasn't okay? What if he was hurt? Is he with someone he knows? Is he doing something that will hurt you?

You pace the floor a few more times before looking at the time, 5:08 a.m. . The feeling of exhaustion sets in as you wipe away the fresh tears on the sleeve of his sweater. You walk back into the bedroom, grabbing his pillow, deciding it would be better to sleep on the couch to hear him come in.

You manage to get comfortable, setting the house phone next to your pillow and pulling out your cell phone. You set up a group message including Kenneth, Dan and Spencer, sending them a message: 'If you all hear or are with Dallon, please tell him to check in with me.'

You set your phone next to the other as another set of tears roll in. Cuddled up to his pillow you let the exhaustion take over and pull you under.

// Kenneth's POV //

Dallon had been on the couch for what seemed like hours. He's not really said much, only that he got into a fight with (y/n) and that it was bad. I've tried to get him to tell me a little more but when he goes to say something he looks like he wants to cry.

My phone dings from the end table and I lean over to check it, seeing a message from (y/n).

'If you all hear or are with Dallon, please tell him to check in with me.'

I glance over at him, seeing the regret on his face, "Hey Dal?"

He doesn't say anything, just looks over at me, "I think it's time to go home, buddy. She's worried sick."

"What if she's still mad at me? I didn't mean anything I said, Ken. We never fight like that."

"I highly doubt she's mad anymore. She just wants you home and you have to face her sometime. Apologize and next time, take it out Brendon please."

He rubs the back of his neck before standing up and patting me on the shoulder, "Thanks for letting me stay here for awhile."

"Anytime." I smile, seeing him to the door, "Now go apologize to your girl."

He salutes as he walks down the sidewalk to his car.

// Dallons POV //

I take in a deep breath as I shut off the car and climb out, walking into the lobby of our apartment. I go for the steps, taking them up to the third floor and stopping in front of our door.

I open the door to see all the lights on and a sleeping figure on the couch. As I get closer I feel my heart drop into my stomach. She has on one of my sweaters, my pillow is under her head and both phones are near by.

I kneel down in front of the couch, cupping her face with my hand as she stirs. She blinks a few times before she sees it's me and wraps her arms around my neck, tears falling on my shirt, "You're home."

I wrap my arms around her waist, squeezing her tight, "I'm so sorry."

She nuzzles into me before pulling back, placing her hands on both sides of my face, "I love you, but don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I won't. I'm so sorry, (y/n/n)."

She sighs before pressing our foreheads together, "You owe me a sleep, Dallon Weekes."

I grin, pressing a kiss to her nose, "Would you like to cash that in now or later?"

"Now."

She giggles as I pick her up, carrying her back to the bedroom, hitting the lights as I go. I lay her down before crawling in on my side and pulling her in close, "I love you so much, (y/n/n)."