#I’m exhausted. I’m tired of being scared all the time. i want to be done.

[bumpscosity]

Remember how I said if December went wrong it’s be my last straw. My dad got covid.

[inkdrinkerworld]

hi! maybe logan getting worried/protective over u after u get injured during a mission? 🥺🩷

Canon level (based on the comic books mostly) wounds and violence (it’s nothing too gory besides the wound description)

“Move out of my fucking way Scott,” you hear him before you see him which isn’t really a good sign.

You’d gone on a mission the same time he was out on one too, and though it had just been a simple recon mission, things got heated quick.

Zeitgeist was a bitch like usual, and you weren’t as fast as you might’ve been had there not been a falling child to save.

So now, your entire right side is rippled under the acid of his spit and you can’t deny the agony you’re in.

“She’s fine,” Scott says but you know your boyfriend.

He pushes past him and is at your side almost instantly. Your eyes take a moment to adjust to him being so close but when they settle on his face, the clear panic and worry is clear to see.

“I’m fine, Lo.” You say, teeth gritted through each word as Charles asses the wound.

You’re no longer in your suit, just in a pair of pants and a sports bra, your hair is drenched and Logan can only guess they just hosed you down to get rid of the majority of the acid.

It still burns like a bitch and you can’t hide that from the man who knows you so well.

“Bullshit,” he grumbles, hands brushing back the hair from your face. “Can’t you all do something instead of just fucking staring at it?”

The question is packed with worry that none of them are accustomed to seeing on Logan, but you swear you see Ororo smirk.

She’d been the only one to notice his soft underbelly- well beside you.

“We’re waiting for Hank to bring the antidote Logan,” you say gently, stroking his tense forearm. “I’m fine baby.”

It’s the ‘baby’ that softens him, that gets him to take a deep breath and press his forehead into yours.

“Fucking scared me,” he murmurs and the others all find themselves busy- besides Scott, he wants something to tease the man about as per the rules of their friendship. “Don’t do that shit again.” His hands are on your neck, thumbs under your chin so you can’t look away.

“I didn’t really have a choice, I had to save the kid.” He nods, pressing his lips to your temple. Hank saves him from blowing up again when you wince and the green acid bubbles a little more.

“Fucking finally, what took you so long?” He grunts, Hank only shaking his head as he pours the blue liquid over your wound.

“Fuck,” you cry out, hand itching to press against your side or slap Hank’s hands away but Logan stops you.

“Fucking say something next time, yeah big guy?” He growls but then you hiss again and he’s all focused on you again.

“You’re good, you’re okay bub.” It’s whispered straight into your hairline and if you were a little more cognizant you’d notice that Logan can’t stop glaring at the wound.

“We caught it in time, the antidote won’t reverse the burn completely, but it will be soothing it and fixing the majority of it.” Hank pulls on gloves, the snap of it on his wrist filling the room. “There’s a salve you need to put on it for the healing process.”

“Thanks Hank,” you whisper, much too tired for much else. “Can I go now?” Logan notices then how utterly exhausted you look and sets aside his anger and worry for a moment to dote on you.

“Yes, but Logan monitor the wound and how it heals over the next few weeks. The skin should be back to normal when the salve is done.” The professor says and Logan nods dutifully before picking you up off the med and taking the salve from Hank.

“C’mon, pretty girl.” He takes you back to your room and is smearing the salve on your side. “You’re not doing that shit again, I swear to whatever there is.”

You give him a small smile, “Getting hurt is part of it Logan, I can’t avoid that completely.”

He frowns and then presses a kiss right above your wounded side. “You don’t get how scary it is to hear, ‘she’s in the infirmary, an acid wound’, I nearly ripped Bobby in half.”

You stretch a hand to bury in his hair. “I know baby, but this was just a one time thing. Zeitgeist isn’t exactly unscathed either.”

Logan smiles, his lips pressing into your unblemished skin again. “Fire burns Logan, what can I say.”

“You’re fucking perfect, you know that?” You giggle a little, more so when he holds your cheeks and stamps a kiss to your lips. “Get some shut eye, m’gonna get one of the kids to make you soup.”

[tlou-reid]

Cardigan ❤︎ Spencer Reid

♡ SUMMARY: spencer is finally home and all fem!reader wants is to be close with him (i picture this as season 9 reid but you do you)

♡ WARNINGS: smut, unprotected piv (be safe!) , ass slapping, fluffy smut, spencer being a cutie, showering together, not edited, 18+ minors dni

—♡

Spencer could’ve sworn you could hear his heavy footsteps as he made his way up the apartment building’s stairs. He had called you a few hours ago and let you know that they were finally loading up the jet to go home. After an excruciating, exhausting, and downright horrendous case all Spencer wanted to do was go home to you.

You couldn’t help yourself from making your way to the kitchen after hanging up with Spencer. It wasn’t that you felt the need to cook for him; he was a grown man, he could do it himself if he wanted food. But it was an act of love. After being away for almost two weeks and nothing but fast food and vending machine snacks, you knew he’d appreciate a warm, home cooked meal.

You heard the keyhole in the door turn as you sat his plate on the dining room table. You made your way to the door to be able to greet him as soon as he came in. The grin that spread across your face as he opened the door quickly faded as you saw the deep dark circles under his eyes. He looked so, so tired. Your heart fell, knowing he must have had an awful two weeks.

“Spence,” you said lovingly, reaching for his shoulders. His body instantly relaxed as you rubbed the tension out of his body. He stood in the doorway as your hands slid from his shoulders down his chest. Your hands followed the buttons of his purple cardigan down, undoing them as you went. Neither of you said anything, just allowing your actions to convey how much you missed him, how much you loved him, and how much you hoped he was feeling okay.

When his cardigan was fully unbuttoned your hands traced back up to his shoulders, helping him take it off. You grabbed his hand, lightly tugging him inside and setting his cardigan on the arm of the couch, him shutting the door as you did so. Still silent, you led him to the table by his hand, pulling his chair out and allowing him to sit.

Your hand ran through his hair before you leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead. Spencer’s eyes fell shut as your lips pressed against his skin. “You okay?” You spoke softly. Spencer just nodded, reaching towards to wrap his hands around your waist. His dinner plate was forgotten, but he made a mental note to thank you for the gesture later, as he pulled you into his lap. “Rough week,” was all he said.

You nodded, letting him bury his head into your shoulder. You knew sometimes this is what Spencer needed. Despite not liking when people touched him, he craved yours. It was like you were his own personal sense of home, and everything was okay as long as he could feel your skin. No killers, no victims, no violence, no nightmares. Just you and your soft skin and gentle touch. That was all he needed.

You weren’t sure how long you two stayed like that; just wrapped up with each other. His plate had definitely gone cold by the time his hands unwrapped from your waist. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled as you got off his lap, “I’m just really hungry.” You giggled, offering to heat his plate up for him. He declined, assuring you that your cooking was more than enough, and he was just grateful to have something to eat already made. Both of your hearts were full of love as you sat while he ate, continually complimenting your cooking.

When Spencer was done, you quickly cleared his plate for him, just sitting it by the sink for one of you to worry about tomorrow. You, once again, grabbed his hand and gently guided him to your shared bedroom. Physically, he wasn’t fragile. Spencer was strong. He’d been through more than almost anyone else on the planet, and he took it in stride. He took whatever came at him and not only moved on from it, but grew from it. But you were still scared he would break. After all, a person could only take so much.

“Shower with me?” Spencer asked once you both reached the bedroom. He sat on the edge to untie his converses. “Of course,” you hummed already making your way to the connected bathroom. You were turning on the water when Spencer entered the room, wearing only his boxers. You couldn’t help yourself as your eyes traced over every nook and cranny of his body. He was so beautiful. After a week, you were dying to be near him. To touch him. To have him touch you.

Spencer could feel the energy shift as he came in. He watched you as you undressed, stepping into the shower. He followed closely, letting his hand run over your chest as he stepped in. You guys stood facing each other, letting the warm water run over you. You held eye contact as you leaned to kiss him. You’d missed the feeling of his lips against yours.

He was the one who deepened the kiss. He could only control himself so much after being away for so long. He thought of you every night. Even when he couldn’t talk to you, you were on his mind.

His hands were on each side of your face as you made out in the shower. His tongue slipped into your mouth and your hands wrapped around his waist to pull him closer. God, you really did miss him.

Just as quickly as he deepened your kiss, he broke it. “I’m really sweaty,” he chuckled reaching for a rag to soap up. You washed each other. You noticed his half-hard cock as you washed his legs. You couldn’t help but press a kiss on his happy trail. He smiled when you stood up to face him again, pressing another kiss to your lips.

Spencer wrapped a large, fluffy towel around your body when you stepped out. He smiled as he ran his hands along your shoulders. He couldn’t help but give you another kiss before leaving the bathroom.

“Come here,” Spencer beckoned, bringing you over to the bed. You held your towel tight to your body as he leaned into where you stood between his legs. He was sitting, trapping you between his open, man-spreading legs. He started pressing deep kisses into your neck and mumbling how much he missed you in-between them. Your grip on your towel loosened as he showered you with love.

He noticed this, reaching up to move your hand completely. He was sucking a mark into your neck as he pulled your towel down. His mouth moved down, as did his hands. As he spread kisses across your chest, Spencer pulled you into his lap. Once you were straddling him, he attached himself to your left nipple. He kept one hand around your waist and brought the other up to toy with your right one.

“Spence,” you groaned, pushing yourself closer to him. After him being gone for so long, it was so easy for him to turn you on. Spencer could feel the wetness that had pooled around your pussy from where you were on his lap.

“Yes, baby?” He questioned, knowing what you wanted but wanted to hear you say it. “I want you,” you whined, dragging your pussy along his hard cock. “I’m tired baby, I don’t know if I can give it to you.” You whined at his teasing words.

He wasn’t lying. He was exhausted. He didn’t know how long he would last once he was inside of you.

“That’s okay,” you mewled, dropping your head into his shoulder, “I can do it myself, if that’s okay.” Spencer smiled, and let out a soft moan at your sweet, but dirty words. “Of course that’s okay,” he said.

That was all you needed, reaching a hand down in between you two and lining him up with your entrance. His hands rested on your waist as you sat down on him. You both let out a matching groan as you fully took him. “I missed you so fucking much.” Spencer said, moving forward to kiss you.

Your movements started light, barely lifting yourself off of his cock. The drag of his length inside of you felt so good as you bounced on his dick. As your movements started to pick up, Spencer was groaning underneath you, loving the way your ass slapped against his thighs as you bounced on him. He couldn’t help himself as he reached down to give it a light slap, before gripping it hard.

You let out a loud moan as you felt him guide your movements from behind. You pressed kisses into his neck as he moved you. You wanted to leave marks on him, just like he did to you, but you couldn’t. He’d have to leave again and you didn’t want anyone else to see the filthy things you two did when you were alone.

Spencer’s words were broken and weak as he sputtered out, “I don’t know how much longer I’m gonna last.” You nodded, agreeing with him but unable to find words as his cock lit a fire inside of you. Your movements were fast and heavy, becoming erratic as you were reaching your high.

When his hand that wasn’t on your ass reached down between your bodies, rubbing on your clit, you let out a moan. Your legs began to feel weak and he had to work harder to guide you as finished on his cock. Your pussy squeezing him just right led him to his own, cumming inside of you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I love you,” Spencer spoke softly, his throat slightly hoarse. You hummed in agreement, pulling yourself off of him. You tried not to make a mess as you made your way to the bathroom.

When you were done, Spencer was laying in his plaid sweatpants, propped up on pillows at the top of your bed. Your eyes couldn’t help but trace his long legs. He smiled at you, holding out the cardigan that you had pulled off of him when he came in.

“I figured you’d like to sleep in it.” You smiled and nodded, slipping it on and buttoning it up. As you both settled down and turned off the lights, all you could think about was how happy you were he was home and safe.

You slept together with your legs intertwined at the bottom of the bed. Spencer didn’t have any nightmares that night.

[agi-ppangx]

good morning (han jisung x gn!reader)

no warnings, just a soft, fluffy morning with hannie<3

an: as promised, this is my little gift for you as a thank you for 1000 followers🫶🏽 i wish i couldve done more for you because its such a huge milestone, but this is all i could muster in my current state and with the amount of uni stuff. i love you and thank you once again for being here and reading my silly little fics<3

soft, feather-like touches woke you up late in the morning. you pouted, suppressing a yawn as you opened your puffy eyes only to see jisung’s face mere centimetres from yours. his fingers danced delicately on your cheeks, brushing your earlobes in the process.

“sungie, it tickles,” you mumbled, blinking slowly as he smiled shyly, whispering a quiet “’m sorry”. you hummed, closing your eyes and nuzzling your face in the crook of jisung’s neck. he wrapped his arms tightly around you, carding his fingers through your dishevelled hair.

sunday mornings were your favourite things in the world. time seemed to stop then, letting you and your boyfriend enjoy the peace and quiet that you missed dearly throughout the week. living in a constant rush exhausted you, draining the last of your energy, so when sunday came, you were finally able to recharge in jisung’s arms.

“are you hungry?” he asked softly after a while, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. you pressed your lips to his neck, letting out a small “mhm” and he giggled. “you’re so cute when you’re tired,” he added, running his fingers through your hair again. “i’m gonna order something, okay?” he said, unwrapping his arms from your body, trying to reach for his phone, but you whined, clinging to him like a koala.

“don’t leave me,” you mumbled sleepily, throwing your leg over jisung’s waist and keeping him in place as you snuggled into his side once more. he laughed at your dramatics.

“i’m not going anywhere, silly, i just wanted to take my phone. where would i go anyway?” he chimed, angling his body unnaturally to reach for his phone with you clinging to his body. he came back to his original place as he successfully grabbed the device and started placing the order.

“i dunno,” you yawned. ”i just had a dream last night that you left me without a word and never came back. it scared me honestly. i don’t want you to leave me,” you whispered the last few words, pouting and jisung cooed at you, locking his phone and throwing it on the pillow next to his head.

“jisung in your dream must’ve been really stupid if he left you. he’s a complete idiot,” he said, dramatically gasping and it made you laugh.

“yeah, he was an idiot. i’m glad it was just a dream.”

“why?”

“because i would never let you go, dumbass,” you scoffed, poking his cheek. he smiled at that, capturing your lips in a soft yet passionate kiss.

“you wouldn’t have to, because i’d never leave you anyway.”

taglist !

@lynlyndoll @iyenbread @flooo71 @skz-streamer @inniescandy-01 @hannahhbahng @prettymiye0n @ggsez31 @laylasbunbunny @like-a-diamondinthesky @axel-skz @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @l3visbby @skzhoes @minhosbitterriver @astraystayyh

[joemama-2]

THEIR ANGSTY TROPES

includes: gojo, getou, nanami, yuuji, megumi,

——————————————————————

GOJO

no matter how hard he tries, he’s drowning beneath the weight of his own thoughts

he’s too busy to make time for you, being the worlds strongest sorcerer has proven that no matter what, satoru cannot do relationships. you can beg and plead that you two can make it work, but he’ll always say no.

“i’m here for you, you’re not alone.”

“that’s the problem.”

GETOU

in a room full of people, the emptiness inside echoes louder than everyone else

he doesn’t want love, nor does he need it. he wants to be alone, fulfilling his own purpose. being chained to the jujutsu society is one thing, but being chained to you is another. he’s done with the confinement, he’s tired of no longer feeling free.

“what are you searching for?”

“something ive lost, but im not sure i ever had it to begin with.”

NANAMI

craves the feeling of letting someone in

he wanted to marry, wanted a family. as corny as it sounds, he wanted to experience his one true love. and he was so close to it too, letting go, no longer feeling exhausted. but as the saying goes, all good things come to an end.

“what are scared of most?”

“letting you go.”

YUUJI

searching for the answers through the darkness that resides within himself

he’s at a constant battle of determining who he’s living for. what he’s living for. is he fighting to save others? or just to save himself from an inevitable end? but on his execution day, he finds his answer.

“please don’t forget about me.”

“i’ll take your memory with me, until i see you again.”

MEGUMI

chasing those fleeting moments

as much as he doesn’t like to show it, megumi goes after you. for a simple smile, a pat on the shoulder, or a hug, he wants every single bit. too afraid to come to terms with his feelings, especially confessing those feelings to you, he’s fine with this quasi-platonic relationship.

“i’ll see you later, don’t miss me too much.”

“i don’t have a choice.”

[powermakar]

Slut! (3+1) - LS2

Summary: 3 times you break down and Logan pulls you in and the 1 time he breaks down and you pull him in. Based off of the song "Slut!" by Taylor Swift

Words: 2.5K

Warnings: Swearing, self-deprecation, and Qatar 2023

1- I crashed my car

“Logan,” you breathe out. “Logan, I, Logan…” you try again.

“Y/n what happened? Are you okay? Did you get into an accident? Where are you?” Logan quickly asks as panic builds up inside of him. 

A quick “yes” is all you are able to croak out. “I crashed my car, I don’t know what to do and I need you,” you say with tears rolling down your face. “The other guy is being an asshole and he just keeps yelling and swearing at me.” Wiping your runny nose on your sleeve you say, “I’m scared, please hurry up.”

“I’m on my way, just try to breathe with me, we don’t want you to hyperventilate,” he tries to joke. 

As you mentally go through the checklist of things you know what to look for and ask for when you get into an accident, you can’t seem to think straight. Embarrassment, the fear of failure and disappointment run through your veins. You can’t even imagine how angry people will be at you, and that thought alone just scares you. You walk to the back of your car to reassess the damage, luckily there is a miniscule dent on the back of the bumper. Nothing really worth fixing or paying any attention to. When you turn to the man’s car you cringe inwardly as more tears prick your eyes. You look back at the man and say, “I am very sorry sir, I really do not know what happened but I am willing to pay for any of the damage.” 

The man looks you up and down before telling you to shut up. At his abrupt comment, you turn away from him as more tears begin to run down your face. “Don’t you walk away from me you bitch!” the man yells. 

Unfortunately for the man, Logan heard his comment as he was getting out of his car. “Do not ever call her a bitch ever again, do you understand?” he says as he walks towards you. You see the man awkwardly turn away from the two of you.

Logan turns to you as you quietly call his name and engulfs you in a hug. “It’s okay, we will figure this out, don’t worry about it, angel,” he whispers as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.. All you could manage was a little hum. 

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

2- I’m tired 

Being a university student is exhausting. Add in a boyfriend, a social life, and a job, all of your days seem to blur together. As the weeks went on, assignments and projects stacked on top of each other in a never ending loop. Once you finished one project, you were assigned another one along with some long-term assignments you needed to constantly work on. This week in particular seemed extra hard. Two projects, one discussion, and five different assignments were all due in a span of three days and you haven’t even started on some of them. You knew it was going to be a long week of sleepless nights. You were fine with it though, this is what you wanted anyways. Right? 

“Hey angel, do you want to go out to the theater and go to dinner after?” Logan asks as he walks into the kitchen area. 

“I would love to, Lo, but I really have to work on all of these assignments. They are all due pretty soon and I don’t have much done,” you sigh.

“Oh come on Y/n, you’ve been working extremely hard and you deserve a break. Please, for me?” 

“I deserve a break after I finish these. It is important that I finish these. Please just let me finish.” 

“Ok, how about we just go out to dinner and skip the movie?” 

“Logan, don't you understand that I’m tired and I just want to be alone so I can finish these assignments. God, you are so annoying. Just stop bothering me, please.” you abruptly say. Logan, who was taken back by your rude outburst, just looks at you before walking into your shared room. 

You couldn’t focus on your work after Logan left, all you could think about was the look on his face after you yelled at him. You were running on a few hours of sleep and you knew that wasn’t an excuse, you felt awful. 

Walking to the bedroom you gently knock on the door, “Lo, can I come in?” 

“Go work on your assignments, I don’t want to talk” he says muffled. Ignoring his comment, you walk into the room anyway. 

“I’m really sorry Logan. You aren’t annoying, it was a bad thing for me to say. I’m just really tired and overwhelmed so I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have.” The tiredness suddenly hits you like a train and emotions are running high. 

“I’m really sorry Lo. I did not mean it and I really feel awful. I’m so sorry” you say, feeling a tear roll down your cheek. 

“Come here Y/n. I know you didn’t mean it, I also know how serious you take your studies so I shouldn’t have really asked you to step away from it for some stupid movie,” Logan says while pulling you into his lap. 

Burying you head into his chest, you can feel more tears fall. “I’m sorry for getting your shirt all wet”. 

“It’s okay. How about we get some take-out and I will try to help you with some of your work?” 

“I would really love that Lo, thank you.”

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

3- I read the comments

You knew that you would have to deal with all of Logan’s fans and others when you first started dating him. You knew that, you understood that, but what you couldn’t understand was the fact that they will scrutinize every single little detail about you. You didn’t understand why they didn’t do it to the other girlfriends, not that you wanted them to experience it, it just felt like you were singled out. Maybe the others did get all of this hate but they just hid it or covered it up well. That is something you would never be able to do. The comments were on your mind 24/7, it was all you could think about nowadays. 

Looking into the bathroom mirror, all you saw was the few stretch marks on your thighs and how much more you weighed compared to everyone else. Now you did not blame Logan for posting the picture of you two on a beach over the summer break. You blamed yourself. Why did you have to look like that? Why did you have to weigh what you did? Why did Logan date you and not someone skinnier? 

It was like a never ending spiral. Soon you were taking off your shirt to look at the ‘lumps’ on your stomach. Gently grabbing the skin, you pulled on it, imagining how much less you would weigh if you were to cut it off. Your eyes made it up to your boobs where some of the upper flesh was spilling out of the cups of your bra. ‘Tiger stripes’ were what Logan called them, you called them stretch marks and were embarrassed of them. Logan said that they were one of his favorite things about you, they were probably your least favorite thing about yourself. 

You didn’t even register the bathroom door opening until you made eye contact with Logan in the mirror. “What are you doing?” he asks as his eyes make their way over your breasts. 

“Oh, I was just- uhm, just…” you say, clearing your throat. 

“Doing what exactly?” 

“Do you ever read the comments on your Instagram posts?” you ask abruptly. 

“No not really, why?”

“Well I read the comments. Are you not embarrassed about me? To be seen with me? To post a picture of you beside a person like me?” 

“What are you talking about Y/n? I would never be embarrassed about you. I love you, don’t you know that?”

“Logan you shouldn’t be with someone who looks like a whale when they go to the beach or with someone who has stretch marks all over their body.” These were just two of the comments that seemed to run like a broken record in your mind. 

“What the hell? You look perfect, angel. In fact you are perfect Y/n. I don’t want to be with anyone else but you. Whoever put those silly ideas in your head should be embarrassed and ashamed of themselves for saying such things about a beautiful person. Now let me show you how much I love you.”

You can feel a faint blush rise to your cheeks as you turn off the bathroom light off, leaving your discarded shirt laying on the floor, and the bad idea in the air. 

And I break down, then he’s pullin’ me in. In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

+1- I crash and burn constantly

Another DNF in the books. Another podium for Oscar in the books. You felt torn between sickness and happiness. You felt awful for Logan as he wasn’t able to finish the race due to the bad conditions and felt sick to your stomach as his F1 career could be on the line, it was all he really dreamed about. But you felt happy for your long-time friend Oscar as he seems to be finding his spot within F1 with McLaren. 

You grab a water bottle on your way into Logan’s driver’s room. You don’t even knock. You just walk into the room and sit down on the couch. You look over to Logan and you don’t even dare to utter a word to him. You know he doesn’t want to talk about it so you don’t even bother with it. He looks up at you but quickly turns away and looks at his shoes resting in the corner of the room. 

Clearing his throat, he asks, “Did you go watch Oscar’s podium celebration?” 

“No” is all you say. 

“You should have. You should be out celebrating with him and Lily. Go and congratulate him, you shouldn’t be in here with me.” 

There was something just…off about him. “I doubt this would be the only opportunity to congratulate him.” 

“You’ll never get to congratulate me.” 

“You know that is not what I meant. I congratulate you after every race. There aren’t enough words to tell you how proud I am of you.” 

“You aren’t proud of me. You are proud of Oscar. You are just embarrassed of me. I’m lucky if I get to finish my race, let alone fight for a podium. I have been out-qualified by Alex every single damn time. I crash and burn everytime I get in that car and I’m fucking tired of it.” He lets out a shaky breath and runs his hands through his hair. “I’ll never be like Oscar, I’ll never be that ‘once in a generation talent’ and I don’t even have a chance at being the best rookie since Lewis. It’s too much pressure to even keep the car from hitting the wall,” he continues.

“I know I will never fully understand the pressure of being a F1 driver but I at least want to help. Help me understand what you are going through and we can work through this together. Please let me help you Logan, please,” you whisper. 

He walks over to the couch and takes a seat next to you, resting his head against your shoulder. You take a hold of his left hand and begin playing with his fingers. 

“I was fighting at the top with Oscar when all of a sudden I found myself being glad that I finished the race or even finishing P19 instead of P20 is a miracle. I just feel like I need to prove to everyone that I am capable of competing and having a seat in F1. I hate seeing how upset the mechanics get when I crash and the fact that they have to rebuild a whole damn car in a single night. And the memes and jokes, I hate seeing them. I know what a fucking kilometer is and I know that me and Oscar are now at total ends of the spectrum when it comes to results. It’s fucking hard to see everyone comparing me to him is those stupid videos.” Throughout his whole speech, you could hear multiple voice cracks. 

“Love, we all support you. Me, your family, your friends, the whole team, even Oscar supports you and only wants the best for you. Please believe that we are all so proud of you and what you have been able to accomplish.” You can feel a wet spot growing on your shoulder, when you look down you can see Logan trying to wipe his face. “It’s okay Lo, you will get the results that you want, you work so fucking hard and I know, with out a doubt, that you will achieve something great.” 

You kneel down infront of him and take his hands into your own. “Please trust me on that Logan, please.” 

“I trust you Y/n, 100%” 

And he breaks down, then I’m pullin’ him in. 

[sminiac]

Piwon after an argument 👉🏾👈🏾 -Kyokopi

💌 — I’m sure it’s just bc I started my period but I’ve been so fucking sad lmao, thought now would be a good time to write a lil angst HEHE

⋆ Y. Keeho

Gen overview — He moves around your space very cautiously, slow in a way, like he’s scared of his presence being fully perceived. I feel it’s one of the very few times he isn’t tackling the problem when both of your wounds are so fresh in fear of further irritating them due to his eagerness that could come off as pushy or bitter. Forces himself to endure the silence, the lack of acknowledging each other’s presence even in close proximity, it hurts but he knows everyone processes things differently, including the timeframe of how long that’ll take.

Reconnecting — Truthfully, normally it doesn’t take very long before either of you come back with a “I’m sorry” at the ready, it’s never a you or him situation, in fact a lot of the time it doesn’t matter, the most essential part is communicating, which also consists of a lot of tears- but there’s something so sweet about being able to let go like that with someone else, sharing another one of your most vulnerable moments with each other, gaining an understanding of how his brain works in a way no one else can.

Remainder of members under the cut!

⋆ C. Taeyang

Gen overview — Forces himself to apologize first because he knows if he doesn’t, it’ll just never come. Puts his struggles to the side for you but that doesn’t mean it’s easy, he goes through with it though, and although the process is sore and sometimes difficult the outcome is always worth it. He’s good with noting his own faults and the crowding of his ego that he has to overcome, it’s just the daunting task of reconciling, what if it isn’t so easy? What if you won’t accept his explanation? Would another disagreement arise? Learns that a simple ‘I’m sorry’ with a genuine sense of humility is worth a lot more than he thought it would have.

Reconnecting — This is where Theo’s feelings really show, fighting can be exhausting, and you can tell by the look on his face- even his body language, that he’s really drained and sad now that there’s no other emotions left to cloud over. The most he asks is just allow him to be by your side. Showers or baths together are usually taken after. You don’t need to shower him in gifts or written letters conveying your regret, but you can wash his hair for him, massage his arms and back the way he likes while he hugs you under the comforting stream of hot water.

⋆ C. Jiung

Gen overview — The quickest to feeling irritated if he deems your behaviour as ‘excessive’, but don’t let that intimidate you, he gradually comes to his senses, just give it a minute or two for the bad feelings to settle down. Opposed to Keeho, Jiung isn’t so quick to feel the need to apologize or talk it out, he puts himself at quite the distance, buries his head in work to keep him distracted from the guilt, or the fear of having over done it this time. Coming back to each other is always the most fragile part, the culmination of all the hurtful moments make for quite the emotional reconnection. Apologies are always mutual, you dissect things with each other.

Reconnecting — Jiung’s typically more on the serious side, but after seeing you so upset it’s like a need to allow his silly side to slip. Puts away any distractions and focuses all of his attention on you! Do you wanna go get a drink? He doesn’t want you dehydrated after all those tears. Crying makes you tired, do you want to take a nap? Crying makes you hungry, do you want to go grab some food? He’ll pay, anything you want. Crying makes your nose stuffy, what about a walk outside?

⋆ H. Intak

Gen overview — Feels his emotions very deeply, they almost overtake his entire being, when he’s frustrated there’s not really a filter there to keep his mouth from running away which splits the two of you off, if you’re reactive he’s like gasoline to your fire. It doesn’t happen often, arguing or the spitefulness, he’s normally good with managing his emotions in a healthy way, so he’s extremely regretful when it gets out of hand and the both of you are upset with the other. Exudes penitence to the fullest extent when he’s coming to you with a tearful apology, holds you, just wants to hold you. The feeling of someone crying while being close to them always makes me emotional, it’s just such a deep, inexplicable connection, and that’s exactly how it is with him.

Reconnecting — Very physical and vocal after you’ve both settled. Intak will remain as close to you as possible without actually touching you, scared that his clinginess will be too much until you’re the one initiating it, and every few minutes he’ll try talk to you about anything that interests you, because if you’re talking then surely you’re okay. He’s so puppy, asking: “That new bubble tea place you’ve been talking about is opened, do you want to go soon?” “What happened to that shirt you’ve been looking for? Did you find it? Should we go get you a new one instead?” “We should go to an aquarium, you can dress all pretty so I can take pictures.”

⋆ H. Shota

Gen overview — Learning how to be supportive and respectful of each other’s functions is definitely a process, but it makes you all the more closer with Soul. Not being familiar with these intricacies prior to your arrival in his life means that he does struggle with admitting his own feelings. Soul tends to catch the wavelength of your discontent quickly and immediately molds himself to fulfill whatever your needs are, in doing so he unintentionally disregards his own. He’s at your every word, but he also needs someone who will be there for him just as willingly. Apologizing is easy, he’s quick to admit his mistakes and really takes the time to understand you even if he didn’t to begin with, but he is a little hesitant when asking something of you, all he needs is a little encouragement and reassurance that he deserves just the same treatment.

Reconnecting — Things transition back to normal very smoothly, the both of you silently agree to do your best to end the day off on a good note, which doesn’t take a lot, and by the time you’re in each others arms on the verge of falling asleep it’s like nothing ever happened. Soul’s just very.. you can never outright tell what he’s thinking or what he’s about to do, so even as you’re talking it out in the end, your argument is settled once he says or does something silly because once the both of you are laughing there’s no way the seriousness of the situation could be dragged on for any longer. He’ll kiss you with a big pretty smile, adding on a final “I’m sorry stinky”.

⋆ K. Jongseob

Gen overview — He hates nothing more than the tense atmosphere that post arguments have, and the thing that gets to him the most is not being able to approach you like nothing happened. He knows your feelings are hurt. His are too, but god does he ever miss feeling you curled into him, giggling with each other about stupid things no one else would understand. The silence and ignoring each other only ever lingers for so long, usually he breaks it by pulling you into him when you least expect it, quickly subjecting you to his kisses and a near constant reiteration of how sorry he is for being mean. He snaps out of things quite fast, because he can’t bear the thought of your day going sour because of him, so he does his best to make up for it.

Reconnecting — Immediately tells you how silly he thinks it is to be so upset like this in an attempt to wipe away any negative feelings that were left behind, because he wants to be with you until not even the existence of your souls can live on, why dwell on something so trivial? Why feed into it any more than you have to? Seob likes keeping you busy after, is it odd that he suddenly wants to build things together in your Minecraft world? Maybe a little, but it’s hard to say no when he’s suggesting you make a day out of it with snacks and cuddling included.

ᰔ sminiac’s P1Harmony M.list

Update, after listening to my Laufey playlist and writing Seob’s ‘reconnecting’ bit I’m not as sad, just hungry.

ANOTHER UPDATE I ATE AND NOW I FEEL NAUSEOUS ???? I CANNOT WIN.

[sweetyyhippyy]

39 Weeks. Dad!Eddie Series. *FLUFF*

Summary: Eddie's wife is now 39 weeks pregnant and things aren't getting any easier.

Word Count: 766

TW: Being big pregnant, a lot of crying.

A.N.: Surprise!!!!! I was going through my WIPs and found this! I didn't think i ever finished it but I did!

~~~~~~~~~~

Bulging belly.

Swollen ankles.

Back pain.

Peeing every 3 minutes.

Being 39 weeks (and 5 days, but who’s counting) was starting to take its toll on her. She was tired, sore, swollen, hot all the time, and overly emotional - which Eddie always seemed to be the one to pick up the pieces.

Her day at home hasn’t been as relaxing as she hoped.

For lunch, she wanted a simple bowl of cereal, but the milk had spoiled. She went to make grilled cheese, an easy second option, only to find a single piece of bread, and naturally it was the end piece. Clearly a grocery store visit needed to happen.

As the day went on, the pain in her lower back was more than she could bear on top of the tightness she was feeling in her stomach.

The final straw was when she went to switch the laundry. Somehow a little red sock ended up in a load with Eddie’s Hellfire Club shirt and a few other white shirts that ended up turning the shirts pink.

Tears started to flow instantly with frustration in herself, something that had started to become normal the last few weeks.

As much as she loved being pregnant in the very beginning, she was physically and emotionally over being this heavily pregnant and miserable.

Eddie swings the front door open, excited to see his wife after a long day of work.

“Babe?” He calls out, throwing his keys on the counter in the dark kitchen, the house eerily quiet.

“Babe, I’m home. Where are you?” Eddie walks throughout the house, finding their bedroom door closed and small sniffles from behind it.

Eddie furrows his eyebrows before slowly opening the door and peeking his head in to see his wife curled up in a ball under the sheets, her body shaking from her sobs.

“What’s going on, sweetheart? What happened?” Eddie rushes over to her, laying a hand on her back.

She erupts in a violent sob, looking back at Eddie with swollen eyes. “I just want the baby here already. I can’t take being pregnant anymore!” She yells. “I don’t have any control over my body, everything hurts, all I want is some cereal and the milk is spoiled. We don’t have enough bread!.”

“It’s just your hormones.” Eddie soothes her, not the first time this pregnancy he’s let her cry it out.

“I don’t know how you put up with me! I’m insufferable! I turned your shirts pink because I can’t do laundry the right way.” She picks up the shirt from next to her and shoves it in his face. “See?! It’s pink! I’m sorry!” She was beyond hysterical at this point.

Eddie grabs the newly pink shirt from her and opens it up. “It’s kinda badass, babe. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re my husband and you’re trying to be nice to me. I did it to your favorite Metallica shirt too.” She hiccups a sob, handing him more of the evidence.

Sure it was his favorite shirt, but he still couldn’t be angry at her even a little bit. “Hey, can you look at me for 10 seconds?”

She slowly looks up at him, shame in her face.

Eddie wipes her tears from her cheeks, planting a soft kiss onto her forehead. “For the past 39 weeks you’ve been growing a baby, our baby. You’ve been growing her little nose, her arms, her heart. That’s a lot of work. You’re exhausted, you’re hurting, nobody is mad that you accidentally made my shirts pink.”

“You’re not mad?” She sniffles broken, wiping her wet eyes again.

“No, sweetheart.” He wraps his arms around her and cradles her head against his chest. “Hell I’ve done a load of laundry for you and shrunk your favorite sweater and you weren’t mad at me, remember?”

She can’t help but giggle, remembering how scared he was to tell her he shrunk her sweater, he bought her favorite food home, brought her flowers, and put her favorite movie on before he showed her the sweater, the cutest puppy dog face on.

“Since you had a bad day, I’ll go make you a bath, not too hot, and I’ll go grab some groceries, get some stuff to make dinner, and I’ll come back and spoil you.”

“That sounds nice.” She smiles, kissing his cheek. “Since you’re going to the store, will you pick up some green grapes for me? And by me, I mean the baby of course.”

Eddie chuckles, getting off the bed. “Anything for the baby."

[forever-rogue]

Okay but imagine when (nurse!steve) reader gives birth and literally all of the nurses are so excited because todays the day!!!!

It's a long and painful labour but once the baby girl's here and checked over and the two of you have spent some time bonding with her - reader rolls her eyes and says "go on, go show her off" and steve whispers that they'll be right back and he cradles baby against his chest, carrying her out to his ward with hot tears rolling down his cheeks.

Literally all of the nurses gush over her and it distrupts the entire hospital, everyone wanting to get a glimps of Baby Harrington. Steve cries the whole time and just can't believe how lucky he is.

AN | Nurse Steve finally getting to meet his baby girl and getting to show her off! What a dream, I am so soft 🥺

Warnings | Mild Language, Nondescript mentions of labor/delivery

Pairing | Nurse!Steve x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.4k

Masterlist | Steve, Main, Nurse Steve

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve thought he’d prepared for this moment. Really, he’d done a lot of reading, research, and mental preparation. He’d been in on several emergency births and c-sections, and was sure he had seen it all. 

But it all was so incredibly different when it was his wife in labor, when it was his baby girl being born. 

It was like everything in his mind had flown out the window and he was learning everything for the first time. All he could do now was to hope he was being a good and supportive husband.

“You are never touching me again.”

Okay, maybe he could do a better job. Or maybe it was the fact that you’d been in labor for several hours and seemed to be in a lot of pain and stress. Understandably, of course.

“You’re doing so well, angel,” he was sitting at your side and holding your hand, wishing there was something he could, “you’re almost there - she’s almost here.”

“Steven,” you turned your head to look at him, a pathetic little expression, “I don’t want to do this - I can’t do this. I’m not ready for her.”

“You can do this,” he insisted softly, “I have no doubt about that.”

“I can’t be a mom,” you ran a hand over your tired face, grimacing as another contraction came on, “I’m scared.”

“I know it’s scary,” he cooed as he touched your face, gently stroking your cheek, “and we’ll fuck it up along the way but that’s okay. None of that matter because we’ll always try and there will always be love.”

“Do you think she’ll like us?”

“She’ll love us,” he assured you as you smiled softly, “you’re going to be the best mom.”

“And you’re already the best dad,” you squeezed his hand particularly harshly and he tried to keep his expression neutral, “Stevie, I-”

“Alright,” you found the doctor looking at you with excited eyes, “time to start pushing!”

“Stevie?”

“You’ve got this, angel,” maybe he was right…maybe you could do this, “it’ll all be over soon.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

And….that turned out to be a lie. Not by choice, but circumstances. Life happens. 

Once you started pushing, you had a nagging feeling in your gut. And yeah, it was several hours and a lot of pushing and tears and pain later before you finally got to meet your baby girl.

But as soon as you laid your eyes on her, it was all worth it. All the months of morning sickness, back pain, heartburn, shortness of breath, and lack of sleep were worth it. You fell in love all over again as soon as you got to hold the little blob of a grumpy looking potato that was placed in your arms. All things considered, she was pretty damn cute in your little pink hat and blanket. 

“Look at her,” you were exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than to try and get a few hours of sleep. You knew that your sleep schedule wasn’t going to be consistent anymore, not for some time anyway, “we made her. She’s all ours.”

“Our Camila,” his eyes were puffy and red-rimmed and he looked just as exhausted as you. He’d been a wreck since he realized you were in labor and as soon as he’d laid eyes on her he was a goner. He reached over and gently touched her chubby, splotchy little cheek, “she’s perfect.”

“She is,” you leaned into Steve’s touch when you felt him wipe away your tears, “I hope that she knows we’ll always love and try to do right by her.”

“She will, she’s going to be so spoiled with love,”  you couldn’t even imagine all the excitement that was going to overwhelm once she was at home. You knew that everyone was waiting to meet her. Steve, naturally, had called everyone (you swore it could have been everyone he’d ever met) once you got to the hospital. And of course, his coworkers and half the hospital were eagerly waiting for the good news and to see the new addition to the family, “she’s going to have everyone wrapped around her little finger.”

“She’s already got you,” you teased, but it wasn't denying anything.

“So does her mother,” the way you beamed at him made him practically melt, “I love you. So much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back, “so, so much.”

You laid back in the uncomfy, hard bed already dreaming of going back to your own bed. You watched as Steve looked at Cami, clearly trying to memorize every detail about her. She was still in your arms but as you leaned back you angled her towards him, “go on.”

“Hmm?” he raised his eyebrows but eagerly took her from your arms, holding her securely against his chest. He’d practiced this and readied him for this moment, but he still grew nervous. He was holding her like she was made of glass, “do you want to get some rest, angel?”

“I do,” you admitted, “but I also know you, my love. Go on and take her. Show her off to everyone.”

“A-are you sure?” there was a spark in his eye and you nodded. If there was anyone you trusted, it was him. Plus, you couldn’t lie, you kind of wanted him to show her off, “I don’t want to take her if you’re not comfortable with it.”

“I’m sure,” you promised, “go and gloat about Baby Harrington. I know they’re dying to see her just as much as you’re dying to show her off.”

“I won’t be gone too long,” he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “I’ll be extra careful with Blob - Cami!”

“HA!” you grinned through a yawn, “I told you it would stick. Cami the Blob. I love it, it’s perfect.”

“We’re not…fine,” he laughed softly as Cami made a few small sounds as if she was trying to make her opinion known, “oh Cami girl, I’m afraid your nickname will also forever be Blob. Until your sibling comes along and then they can be Blob.”

“Bold of you to assume I’m doing this again,” you snorted in amusement, “and even bolder to assume they would also look like a blob! Maybe they’d be scrunkly or something!”

“I’m not even going to pretend I have any clue what you just said,” he pecked your lips a few times, “get some rest, mama. We’ll be back soon.”

“Love you both,” your eyes were already closing as you watched him leave the room. You loved them both terribly…but you were ready for a little rest before the chaos truly started.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Steve practically had a spring in his step as he walked out of the room with his daughter - his daughter! - and went to look around for his fellow nurses. As soon as he’d stepped foot out the door, he was stopped by one of the doctors. By now everyone had heard about the arrival of Baby Harrington and everyone was eager for a look at her. 

“She’s beautiful,” the doctor was on her way to another room but took a few moments to stop and admire the baby. Steve felt every bit the proud father, “well done to both of you, but mainly your wife!”

“She did do all the hard work,” he agreed softly with a wink, “but I’ll let her know.”

Before going downstairs to the ER, where he knew his partner was working, he popped his head into the breakroom, finding curious eyes on him, “I’ve got a little visitor!”

They all gathered around him, quietly and leaving some room so they wouldn’t disturb the sleeping baby. How she managed to still be asleep was besides him. They call cooed over her, throwing in their well wishes and congratulations. Everyone loved Steve - he was a likable guy after all - and naturally they loved anyone associated with him. 

This kid was to be a little star at the hospital. Then again, people were still in love with how the two of you had met there; all because of a silly broken ankle. It was the best injury of your life, despite the mess it created. It had given you the best thing in your life and together the two of you had created the next best thing. 

Once he made it out of the breakroom, he made his way downstairs to where he knew his partner would be. If there was anyone he wanted to share this moment with, it was her.

Luckily, he didn’t have to go far. Word had already gotten to his fellow nurse and she caught him just as he came back into the hallway. Her entire face lit up as she took in the small, soft looking bundle in his arms.

“Is that who I think it is?” she asked softly as Steve eagerly nodded. She wanted to squeeze him in a big hug, but didn’t want to crush the baby either. Instead, she gently peeked at the sleeping baby and made a quiet sound of delight, “Steve! She’s beautiful.”

“Thanks,” he grinned at her, his heart full to bursting, “I have to admit, I’m pretty scared right now. I don’t wanna mess up this whole dad thing.”

“Steve,” she touched his cheek, her tone melting into the sweetness she often reserved for him, “I’ve watched you grow from a brand new wide-eyed nurse into the wonderful husband - and father - you are now. You have such a good heart, and you’re a good kid. You’re going to screw it up sometimes, trust me when I say we all do, but if there’s anyone that’s going to do this thing right, it’s you. And you know that if you need anything, you’ve got plenty of people that are willing to help. You know you can call me day or night, anytime for anything.”

“Thank you,” he was teary eyed for what felt like the hundredth time that day as he managed to give her a side hug, “you’re amazing, Brenda. I seriously don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“We certainly wouldn’t be here right now,” she teased; she was the one that had finally convinced Steve to ask you out, despite his initial hesitation with the whole patient-caretaker thing. But she was right - if he hadn’t listened to her, none of this would have been possible, “tell you what, try and get some rest while you’re still here and one of the other nurses will look after her. The two of you are in for quite a change.”

“Another good idea,” he snickered, “among your many.”

“I know,” she winked at him before stealing a last look at the baby that had already won over so many hearts, “tell your wonderful wife I say hello and congratulations. When you get settled at home, let me know and I’ll bring over some food. Cooking is going to be the last thing on your mind.”

“I will.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky,” he grinned. 

He was still scared and worried, but somehow he knew that this would all be okay. He’d always wanted to be a father, and now he was. What a world, a wonderful, weird world.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a few days later when you were finally home and had started to settle into a routine. As much of a routine that a newborn allowed for that was. 

It was a wonderful strangeness that having a baby brought into your home. It was no longer a quiet, pristine place, but a perfectly chaotic house. You liked it; it felt like things were falling into place as they were meant to.

And Steve, wonderful amazing Steve, made everything so much better. He was definitely hands on and helped with Camila just as much as you did. He claimed that you did all the hard work and she was the result of both of you not just one of you, so why would you do everything. He was definitely the opposite of a lot of fathers, but then again, you’d always known he was special and that you were lucky. There was still a lot to learn and navigate but you had no doubt that the two of you would figure it out. 

You came back from the bathroom after taking a much needed shower and padded into the bedroom, ready to catch a bit of sleep for however long you were able to. You found Steve in bed, Cami curled up on his chest as he stroked her back gently. She was asleep, and he was getting there too. 

“Hey,” you whispered as he looked over and gave you a sleepy smile. He still managed to look at you as though you’d hung the moon and all the stairs. You crawled into bed next to him, curling into his side, “you got her to sleep!”

“Didn’t take much this time,” he admitted with a small laugh, “gave her some milk and down she went.” 

“I’m ready for a nap too,” you yawned, “I think we all are. I can put her in the bassinet?”

“Nah,” she shook his head gently, “she’s okay right here. I’ll be careful…you get some sleep and we can trade off later on.”

“Are you sure, love?” you peeked an eye at him, but he just nodded, “you can take a nap first-”

“I’m sure,” he reached over and touched your cheek gently before kissing your forehead, “you need some rest, mama. I’ll probably just read for a bit.”

“Will you read to me?” you asked softly as he beamed at you, your own personal ray of sunshine, “just until I fall asleep. I won’t sleep for too long.”

“You’ll sleep for however long you need,” he insisted sweetly, “but of course, I’ll always read to you.”

“You’re the best,” your eyes were already closed and you knew that it wasn’t going to be long until you were asleep, “I love you so much, Stevie. And you too, Cami girl.”

“I love you too,” he grabbed his book and started to read out loud softly, so he wouldn’t disturb either of his girls. 

It wasn’t more than a few minutes before he read you snoring softly, along with Cami’s deep breaths.

Yeah, this wasn’t so bad after all. 

Steve had his girls and all the love in the world.

[huenyang]

pairing: hwang hyunjin x gn reader / genre: fluff, established relationship / word count: 956 / notes: this was meant to be way shorter uuu i wanted to write smth like this bc i am So full of love and proud of him....

summary: sometimes, it feels like nothing is enough to truly express yourself. this is commonplace when it comes to hyunjin.

hyunjin is tired.

actually, tired doesn't even begin to cover it. the way exhaustion hangs heavy onto his very bones and drips off his fingertips like molasses. it’s hard, but it’s rewarding work, being an idol. he wouldn’t trade it for the world, even if the tiredness seeps straight into every cell of his body and causes a faint headache to thrum behind his temples at times.

it’s in times like these that he’s glad to have you.

you who always brings him medicine when he complains about his head hurting, who will run him a bath when he’s too tired to do so himself, who will greet him with a nice dinner when you know his schedules are heavy on him.

that’s how he finds himself today, sinking into the couch as a tired sigh leaves his body and takes away all the tension of the day with it. he’s sweaty, his body hurts from the busy week he’s had, and yet he can’t bring himself to get back up on his feet right now.

it doesn’t take long for you to appear in the corner of his vision, having heard the door open but not done with what you were doing yet.

hyunjin still almost can’t believe the way your face brightens up when you see him - every time without fail. it’s almost as if your eyes sparkle when they land on him, the most loving smile stretching across your face as you beeline for where he lays miserably.

the couch dips slightly with your weight as you lean down to kiss his nose, so close that he could count your eyelashes if he tried.

“welcome back, honey.” the words are barely a whisper, and yet they seem to echo in the quiet of the room.

he hums as you kiss the tip of his nose ever so slightly - teasingly, almost. he knows you’re about to get back up and suddenly, he can’t have that. with a gentle tug he guides you into lying on his chest.

it’s a little precarious. he knows he still smells like a concert venue - sweaty and sticky and gross despite his and the staff’s efforts - but you don’t move to try and get away from him, so he’ll take that as a win.

“ew,” you start, grimacing as you feel the clammy expanse of his chest against your face. “you’re gross.”

he laughs, light and airy.

“but you’re not moving. so do you really mind it?”

“you’re still disgusting.” you smack his shoulder with a huff, which in turn earns you another bark of laughter from hyunjin. as revenge, he snakes his arms around your waist, further securing you against your damp prison.

the conversation fades eventually, you both falling into a familiar and comfortable silence as you accept your fate. the entire time, the smile that paints hyunjin’s features looks almost innocent - you knew better, though.

hwang hyunjin was, possibly, the most annoying man on earth when it came to you.

despite your current predicament, you wiggle enough to stare up at him. it’s jarring, honestly, the way he looks so good even from the most unflattering angles. you know that he’d deny this vehemently if you were to say it, but it does nothing to sway your opinion on it.

you’ve taken to tracing little imaginary patterns on his arms now, anything to keep your hands busy.

“you know,” you start, low, as if you’re scared that speaking too loud will shatter the moment “i’m really proud of you.”

hyunjin’s mouth opens like he’s about to either question you or deflect the compliment with some stupid reason, but you continue faster than he can speak.

“for everything. you’ve come so far already, it’s been, what, six years? that’s a really long time. you’re so wonderful sometimes i can’t even process that you’re real. that you’re you!”

you know you’re rambling, and you really don’t mean to, but there’s simply too much to say about hyunjin. honestly if given the chance you could probably go on and on and about him.

but you’d never let hyunjin know this. his ego would inflate so much he’d float right into space and never come back down.

somewhere in your rambling, you’d averted your eyes from hyunjin’s face, now instead staring a hole into the couch. when you look at him again, his eyes are wide and unblinking and wet.

you can feel your own tears sting your eyes the more you look at him, lip quivering just the slightest bit. you never considered yourself a crybaby or particularly sensitive, but seeing the man tear up tugged at your heartstrings in ways you previously thought impossible.

the next time you speak, your voice cracks just a bit. “thank you, for being born. for being you. for loving me.”

hyunjin blinks. once, twice, and suddenly there are tears down his face. at this point you can barely hold yourself together, too, so instead you bury your head into his chest and wrap your arms tight around his middle.

crying was the last thing you expected to do today. it was a day just like any other, but the overwhelming love you felt for your boyfriend apparently spoke louder than the monotony of everyday life.

in return, you can feel hyunjin’s own arms grip you tighter in a hug, his nose burying into the top of head and the gentlest of kisses placed upon it. he’s sniffling, and you feel it when he brings a hand to wipe his eyes, but still, he clears his throat and speaks, in one of the shakiest voices you’ve heard from him yet.

“thank you, too. i couldn’t have done it without you. i love you."

[zweig-eater]

MESSY LOVE patrick zweig

you stared at him blankly as he rambled out some other excuse for his behavior. you had been fighting too long, and you were numbed and tired of it all. your head hurt and your heart was aching. after all this time, still nothing had been accomplished. patrick still believed he was in the right and he was even going to great lengths to make you believe that as well.

“you know, you are actually being quite selfish” he said, and that one line caught your attention back.

“how fucking dare you patrick… you are un-fucking believable.” you spit back at him with tears stinging the waterline of your eyes. you continued, only fueled by the hurt settling in your chest. “i’m selfish? for wanting to be more then some fuck buddy you use to get off?” your words felt like daggers as his gaze dropped. “i’m selfish? for thinking we could be something real? for holding you to promises you have made?”

as you laid into him, your head was pounding, eyes burning, and your body just felt entirely weakened. this was all getting to you, and you just wanted to sink into some sort of comfort and be safe for the night.

“can't you see how bad you're hurting me?” you asked, almost desperately, as a tear finally fell from your eye; and you sat, collapsing down on your bed, giving into the exhaustion this fight had forced you into.

and just like that patrick was on you. his feet moved so swiftly you hardly noticed before he was kneeling right in front of you. his hand reached up to your cheek and held the side of your face, fingers hooking around to the back of your neck and stabilizing you.

“hey, hey, look at me… im right here. i’m sorry baby, i’m so sorry” he pleaded with you. his rigid and cocky exterior cracking and falling immediately at the clear sign of you in pain. he was kneeling in front of you, sitting between your knees hanging off the bed. his free hand wrapped around the back of your calf, sweetly stroking it.

you grabbed at his shoulders, fisting his shirt, both pushing him away and pulling him in. even you weren't sure where or how close you wanted him. on one hand, he was the only person who you wanted comforting you right now. but on the other hand, he was the reason you were in this state in the first place.

“n-no, no youre not” you refuted with tears streaming profusely now. “you’re not sorry pat, you don't even ca-”

“y/n i'm in love with you” he cut you off before you could finish whatever you were trying to say. before you could continue thinking any longer that you werent the most important thing in his life. you were, and he knew that. and it scared him. he was never the type to fall in love, or to trust, or to be entirely vulnerable with someone. but you brought it out of him, and he was done running from that feeling.

your eyes met his, widening at his confession. you were staring at him, your mouth slightly agape as your fuzzy brain wrecked itself to try and wrap around what he had just said.

“you're the best thing that has ever happened to me. and i'm an idiot for letting you spend even a minute not knowing that” his hands settled around your waist, arms resting on the bed. his fingers lightly traced your lower back and lulled you ever so closer to him. “you have set every inch of my being on fire and i refuse to imagine living a day of my life without you. i’ve never been in love, and it terrifies me.. i’m scared of what i might do to ruin this, or how i might make you hate me. but i know now that i’m willing to risk it. i’m so ready to learn all the beautiful and messy aspects of true devotion with you. because you are worth it. god, y/n, you are worth fighting any amount of fear or pain for.” he finished, eyes welling with water himself now.

you stayed silent. you let every word he said soak into your skin, then your muscles, then your heart. gently, your hands raised, one resting in the crook of his neck, the other finding his curls. together they guided his face up and towards yours. He watched you so closely, as he let you move him into you. his lips quivered with longing as they inched closer to yours. a faint tearful sigh escaped his lips just as they latched onto yours.

his hands gripped you with the force of a man clinging to a life support, yet still with the gentleness of you being a delicate porcelain doll. the kiss held so much passion you thought you might both catch on fire. burning with love and the need for the other to feel how important they were. your tongues swirled together as if trying to get infinitely closer to the other. as you pulled away, both your cheeks stained with tears, patricks lips quirked up into a smile for the first time all night.

“you’re an asshole” you told him, gently pushing his shoulder and grinning dumbly at him. his eyes gleamed at you, so full of love, his pupils were blown out and everything. “why couldnt you just say that before we wasted all night arguing?” you asked, giggling and hooking your hands under his arms, tugging him lightly to join you on the bed.

“where’s the fun in that?” he quipped back sarcastically as he crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, pushing you on your back. “you’re so beautiful” he whispered, dazing at you, like you had never seen before. “i’m so sorry baby, i shouldn't have argued… let me make it up to you” he smirked as his head dipped down and planted a sweet but wet kiss on your neck.

as his head lifted and eyes locked back onto yours. you swallowed any fear left in your throat and returned his confession with how you truly felt about him. “i love you pat,” you told him. the words sounded so sweet he needed his lips back onto yours to taste them.

“i love you baby, so much” was the last thing he said before he kissed you again, this time with a new level of tenderness.

[lucilleslore]

you get hurt - twd reactions.

about: how daryl, negan and rick would react in a situation where you get hurt.

includes: minor injuries, maybe some ooc writing it’s my first time!

DARYL

it doesn’t hit daryl at first when you trip and fall, his mouth already having upturned at your known clumsiness. ‘c’mon kid, get up,’ he’d say softly, the amusement evident in his tone. ‘don’t have all day.’ you’d try of course, and that’s when he sees the odd angle of your ankle, the way your weight is balanced on one leg. his stomach plummets at the grimace on your features, the groans you’re keeping in.

you could hear the walkers closing in, their noises an ugly soundtrack to your pain. ‘just go -’

‘don’t be stupid,’ he’d reply instantly, eyes glaring heavily in your direction. you see the cogs turning, his survival instincts kicking in as he tries to figure out how to get the two of you out of there alive. that’s before he’s scooping you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, grumbling apologetically all the while. his hand massages at the soft skin of your thigh as he moves and it’s so reassuring in that moment you want to cry. ‘fuckin’ mad if you think i’d leave you behind, sweetheart.’

once he gets you safely home and to a doctor he’s more fussy than you. asking all sorts of questions about what is being done to you but he’s also doting - pushing back your hair from your head, squeezing your hand when you need it. he definitely falls asleep next to your bed at the end of the night.

NEGAN

the doctor tending to your burn looks uncomfortable as negan circles him like he’s prey. lucille hits loudly off the floor at your every wince, moan and curse and his anger at the situation fills the whole room.

it really was a simple mistake - you’d just gotten in the way whilst some new saviour was preparing the iron, the tip of it just barely grazing your upper arm - but negan was fuming. you kept catching his eyes zeroing in on the mark, like he could somehow make it vanish by scaring it away. ‘it’s not a serious burn,’ the doctor starts nervously, obviously trying to break some tension.

‘do i look like i care how fucking serious it is?’ he’d return, that sinister smile of his taking up his features. he stands still behind you at last, one hand holding lucille in the man’s direction, the other one coming to rub at your scalp. you lean back into his chest, finding momentary peace in his presence - no matter how worked up he is. ‘she’s in pain, that’s all that matters and if you don’t find a way to fix it?’ negans tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth, lucille moving closer and closer to the poor man’s face. he scurries away to his cabinets, eagerly looking for something.

‘s really not that bad,’ you murmur softly, trying to ease him down. you try to joke but it doesn’t work, that anger still brewing behind his eyes. ‘i’m more worried about you. you gonna make fun of me now like you do dwight?’

his eyes soften momentarily before he drops a kiss on your forehead. ‘course not, doll. you tell me if anyone does. they’ll face the iron themselves.’

RICK

you’re resting when rick rushes into the infirmary. he was gone, off trying to clear the herd of walkers when alexandria came under attack, leaving you and others badly injured. the bullet didn’t hit anything vital but you’re tired after being worked on for hours, eyes blinking blearily up at him as he leans over you.

his own features are tired - exhausted more like - but clouded with worry and angst. ‘are you alright?’ his voice is hoarse

‘right as rain,’ you sigh, trying to put on the charm you usually have. you can see it fails when his brow furrows, ricks head dropping into his hands as he sits by your bedside. your fingers find their way into his hair as you murmur, ‘please don’t worry about me, rick. i’m being taken care of.’

‘but that’s the thing,’ he sighs, a hint of impatience in his voice. ‘i do worry about you! every minute of every damn day, i worry about you. you think i enjoy being out there? leavin’ you here by yourself? look what happens!’ his hands gesture to you now, a pained expression on his weary features.

your own face is a mixture of shock and sorrow. finding yourself at a loss for words you tap the empty space of bed beside you. a small smile is given to you in return before rick climbs in beside you, albeit clumsily. ‘just want to keep you safe ‘s all,’ he whispers into your neck once he gets settled.

[overlyspecific]

Part 12 of Merlin Hood

Previous parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11

Merlin wasn’t sure what time it was. His stomach growled and his body hurt. What was worse was he could feel the magic around him and surging under his skin, he just couldn’t reach for it. it was like being stranded on a boat and seeing land, but you have no oars and your arms cant reach the water.

Merlin sighed and tried to think about something else. As usual, his mind settled on a familiar subject: blonde hair, tired eyes and an easy smirk. Merlin smiled to himself and closed his eyes, brain playing images of his prince.

On the other side of the ruins, Merlin’s prince was wearing a different expression.

Gwaine: All I’m saying is you need to lighten up a little.

Arthur: We were somehow magically sealed into a tomb of hundreds of years old ruins and you want me to lighten up?

Gwaine: With that attitude, we are going to get nothing done.

Arthur: Look, let’s just find Merlin so we can get the hell out of here.

Gwaine: Lead the way, princess.

Arthur and Gwaine follow the tunnel by a faint light that gets brighter until they reach a torch hanging on the wall.

Arthur: At least the witchfinder was kind enough to leave something to light our way.

Gwaine: *patting Arthur on the back patronizingly* That’s the spirit! See the power of a positive attitude.

Arthur: *mumbling angrily* I’ll show you where you can put your positive attitu-

Arthur stops his thought when they round the next corner and see bars locked together with shiny new chains.

Arthur: Merlin.

Arthur brings down excalibur on the chains and they explode apart. Gwaine throws open the doors and they charge into the room.

Arthur and Gwaine: *shouting* Merlin!

Arthur uses the torch to sweep light across the room and he sees a figure chained to the wall at the far side of the cell. He rushes over, almost putting out the torch in the process.

Arthur: Merlin!

Merlin doesn’t move, causing Arthur’s heart to stop in his chest. Arthur brings a hand up to Merlin neck fearing the worst, but a light pressure beats into his fingers and he can breath again.

Arthur: When you get up, I’m going to make you promise to never scare me like that again, you clotpole.

Merlin: *faintly with a slight pained smile* my word…

Arthur looks up at Merlin’s face and is met with his soft blue eyes. The little bits of gold in them shine with the torch glow.

Arthur: *softly* Merlin.

Merlin: You keep repeating my name. Are you worried you’ll forget it.

Arthur: As if you’d let me forget you.

Merlin: Its my destiny.

Arthur: *smiling* Its your destiny to be a constant nuisance in my life?

Merlin: *smiles back* Something like that. The dragon wasn’t too specific.

Gwaine: *clears his throat* Not to interrupt, but we are trapped in this old dusty tomb of ruins with no way out.

Arthur: Right.

Arthur reaches his sword up to break the chains, but Merlin’s frantic face stops him.

Merlin: Wait!

Arthur: What?

Merlin: My magic. If you take the chains off now, I’m not going to have any control over it. I could hurt you.

Arthur: You’d could never hurt me.

Merlin: Arthur, I’m serious.

Arthur: Well, i’m not going to just leave you here in chains. If Gwaine wants to leave, he can but you are getting out of here.

Gwaine: I’m not going anywhere.

Gwaine gives a confident smile, showing no wavering.

Arthur: Guess its settled then.

Arthur looks at Merlin seriously. Merlin makes no other effort to argue, obviously too exhausted to put up much fight. His eyes slip closed and he nods his head. Arthur swings excalibur at the chains holding Merlin’s arms and Arthur catches Merlin before he can hit the ground.

Gwaine: *joking* so much for uncontrolled powerful raw magic…

Arthur looks down at the slumped Merlin in his arms. He is tense, shaking slightly and his eyes are shut tight.

Arthur: *whispering softly while running a hand through Merlin’s hair in a comforting gesture* its okay. You can let it out.

Merlin’s eyes shoot open, frantically. Arthur catches their line of sight and maintains eye contact. Merlin looks as scared as Arthur has ever seen him and it breaks his heart. He gives Merlin a soft smile and a nod then he pulls him closer into his chest.

Arthur: Its okay, love, im not going anywhere.

Merlin’s eyes go golden and the room explodes with magic.

[eeveleon]

something like inemuri

and so it starts hehe this event rlly is so motivating ShikatemaMonth24 - Daydream + Family Bonds

Read here on AO3

Temari turned the lights on to her room and immediately groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re still sleeping.” 

Her husband didn’t even bother opening his eyes. “Maybe I’m still tired.”

She sat down heavily next to him. “That doesn’t matter. You’re always tired. If I waited around for you to not be tired, I would literally be wasting my life here.”

“Tch.” Shikamaru scoffed. “You’re getting dramatic - spending too much time with Ino.” He blindly reached a hand out, trying to pull her closer. 

“You’re getting dramatic.” Temari retorted half-heartedly. 

Though there wasn’t really anything else for her to do until dinner time, so she let him drag her onto the bed and push her down on a pillow. Temari draped an arm around his chest, settling in. 

For a few minutes, there was nothing but the sound of their breathing resonating in the room.

Temari played with some hair that had gotten loose from his ponytail. “How was your week?” 

She was answered with a low, drawn-out groan.

“Troublesome.”

Shikamaru reached up to rub his eyes, moving his fists in slow circles. He took a deep breath as he began to recount his week. “The office is always behind on paperwork, but it went from bad to worse when some idiot submitted an unfinished draft for our trade policy with the Land of Calm Seas. Meetings delayed, discussions interrupted, all to track down and replace it with the real thing. But that was still shit, so I had to rewrite the entire damn thing, and then apologize to the Nagi officials for the inconvenience.” 

He let out a long-suffering sigh, as if even thinking about work on the weekend was exhausting - which for him, it probably was. “And this was on top of all the usual rubbish that goes on in the Tower.”

Temari hummed in response, using her fingernails to scratch lightly at his scalp, a favored act of his, from his frequent naps on her lap. Though, thinking about it, they hadn’t lounged on their back porch for a while now. She was busy with their family, home, and special jounin trainees, and his work days had long since bled into nights.

“Sounds like you need a real vacation then, huh.” Temari said as she got up, resting on her elbow. 

“Yeah, but with Naruto’s never-ending drama, I’m going to have to leave the village if I want a break.” He only half-joked.

“I’ve always thought that, once you retire from being the advisor, we’d move to Suna.”

“Retire?” Shikamaru snorted, a little sadly, folding an arm behind his head on his pillow. “Who's gonna let me retire?” He muttered bitterly.

Temari leaned closer to him. “I am.” 

Shikamaru gave her an odd look. Why would she be the one letting him retire? Temari was the last person on earth who would let him laze his life away - she wouldn’t even let him do it for a weekend. 

She covered his eyes with her hand and sighed dramatically. “Close your eyes, and imagine this.” She started, her voice lowering almost seductively. 

“We wake up in our room in Suna, around eight, eight-thirty-”

Eyes dutifully closed, Shikamaru made a noise of complaint. 

“- we have sex -”

He hummed, satisfied. 

“- and you go back to sleep.”

Cue a much more pleased sound. 

Temari tapped her fingers on his chest. “Meanwhile, I go back to work at my old job at the political diplomacy training office, yelling at and bossing around my subordinates. Once I’m done giving them a good scare, it’s twelve o’ clock and I come back to wake you up for lunch.” 

Shikamaru’s brow furrowed at the thought of getting up in Suna’s midday heat, but stayed silent. He’d gotten more than his usual amount of sleep. 

But Temari wasn’t done. She dug her nails into him lightly, scratching circles in his skin through his shirt. “First, we have more sex, then you make me lunch as I shower.” 

And Shikamaru couldn’t see anything wrong with that. Sleep and sex was a very enticing combination, and he could definitely make his wife some food after that. “Temari,” he mumbled. “That sounds really good.”

“Quiet, I’m not done.” She shushed him. “After lunch, I go back to work and you let Gaara pick your brain for solutions to the problem of the day. Don’t make a face,” she scolded. “It’s how we live for free - and you like having discussions with Gaara.”

That was true, he did like talking to his younger brother-in-law, as Gaara was harder to rile up than his sister yet more serious than his brother. They had had many thoughtful conversations over the years, both for work and just for their own entertainment. And Gaara was certainly a more reasonable Kage than Naruto. 

Also, living for free? That was a perk on its own. 

“Besides,” Temari continued. “I can’t let your intelligence rust away like that. Or do you think I’m with you for your body?”

“Definitely my body.” Shikamaru chuckled, followed by a laugh from Temari. 

“Yeah, maybe twenty years ago.” She punctuated her tease with a light slap to his stomach.

“Hey!”

She didn’t give him any more time to complain about that comment. “Shut up now, this is only half our day. Once work is over, I go and train with Kankuro for a few hours, maybe bully him and beat him up while I’m at it, the usual.” 

Shikamaru nodded, waiting for her to tell him what he would be doing during that time. He wasn’t at all surprised with her choice of activity. It seemed like the older she and Kankuro got, the more childishly competitive they got with each other. 

“Meanwhile, you go to that little park near the Council’s hall - you know, the one with the training ground? They have these tables set up for old people like you to play shogi on, so you camp out there and play a few games against your fellow elderly men as they leave their musty offices.”

“All this talk about my age.” He groaned, though there was no real aggravation in it, he’s still too pleased with the idea of spending half his day in bed followed by a late afternoon full of shogi. “Which one of us is older here?”

Temari pinches the side of his stomach, jiggling it a bit. “Remember when there was no fat here?” She retorted.

“Hey!”

“Anyways,” She went on without a care. “I come pick you up at around six. We take a nice walk through the town market - I can’t have you get too out of shape - and then go out for dinner at a different place than the day before.”

After a minute, when Temari didn’t say anything else, Shikamaru peeked an eye open. His wife was staring off into space, an unusually soft look on her face. 

“Temari,” he called quietly. “What next?”

She blinked and turned to look at him, the small smile growing into his favorite toothy grin. “Next? We take a much slower, long walk through the dunes on the east side of the village.” She laced her fingers through his. “We hold hands, talk about our day, make fun of each other, reminisce about when we were younger... then go home.”

“And then we sleep?” Shikamaru asked, closing his eyes again as he imagined this perfect scenario. 

All the day-dreaming was lulling him to sleep, and wife’s soothingly husky voice wasn’t helping for that matter. 

He felt Temari settle closer to him. “Well. First we have great sex again, and then we sleep.”

Shikamaru laughed, his eyes shooting open. Sleep, shogi, and sex. His wife really did love him.

Temari was smiling down at him, her loose hair obscuring some of his sight. “And the next day we do it all over again.” She finished, and closed the distance between them with a kiss. 

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her body half on his. He sighed happily, murmuring in her ear. “It would be... amazing, to live like that. With you.” 

“It will be.” Temari corrected him, leaning above him again. “That’s going to be our future; I’ll make sure of it.” 

He loved the determination and commitment in her words. While he was more than happy with how their life was now, it felt good to know that she was planning for the rest of their lives already. 

“Of course, it’s going to be a looong while before it becomes a reality. And not just because of your duty to our dear Hokage.” Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “Wanna know why?” 

Shikamaru blinked at her. He wasn’t sure if he liked that look in her eyes. In fact, he was hoping she would join him for the nap he was about to take - all the thinking and imagining had really tired him out. Still, he played along a little longer. “...Why?”

Temari pressed a finger to his lips. “Just wait and listen.” She rested her head next to his, and they lay in silence for 3, 2, 1...

“Mom! Ayuna is being a little brat again!”

“No I’m not! Dad!”

Temari shook her head at their children’s yells. “That’s why.” The fondness in her voice gave away her true feelings on the interruption, though. 

Shikamaru groaned, trying to sink deeper into his pillow. He should have known. His life had been going peacefully for far too long. 

His wife noticed his discomfort and just laughed. She patted his arm. “And who wanted to be a father?” She said mockingly.

“Temari, I love our kids. Very much.” He sighed loudly. “But you practically had me in a genjutsu for the past half hour, so I’m going to need a minute.” 

Temari threw her head back and laughed, obviously pleased with herself. She sat up and started to slide off the bed. 

“Take your time. I know I’m pretty powerful.” She shot over her shoulder, her hand trailing on the doorframe as she disappeared down the hall. 

Shikamaru stayed where he was sinking into the mattress, just listening to the distant sounds of his family’s chatter. He heard the back door to the porch slide open and closed as the laughter faded. 

All of a sudden, the urge to sleep for the next couple days wasn’t that strong anymore. 

Those dreams of a simple life weren’t so far away - they were just outside.

Shikamaru set his feet on the floor and got out of bed.

[ashlingiswriting]

do i know you? chapter one

"that's mikey's girl." richie jerimovich x reader, past mikey berzatto x reader, slow burn chapter one, 3.2k words

two in the morning. he's on his stomach with moonlight fall through the window on his bare shoulders, the arch of his thick dark hair hiding his eyes in shadow. not even a gleam.

why do you keep calling me that? he says. used to be every now and then, like a joke, but now it’s just all the time.

it’s your name.

mikey’s my name.

michael’s on your birth certificate. that makes it your name.

everyone calls me mikey.

you lift an empty palm. and?

oh my god, don’t be so fucking mysterious, come here. c’mere. his hand's on your hip, clumsy. hey. talk to me. 

let it go, michael. 

when sweetness doesn’t get him what he wants, he reaches inside and produces more energy from god knows where.

don’t you ever get tired of being so goddamn mysterious? don’t you get fucking exhausted? from wheedling to kindling, you never tell me anything, just tell me one thing, okay? just one thing, what’s the big deal, straight shooter? huh? c’mere, hey. oh, now you’re not looking at me now? like what am i, a cop? i’m just fuckin curious, man, it’s my name, and if you’re—

okay! fuck! just. fucking calm down, i’ll tell you. i’ll tell you.

i am calm. he is. ruffled, but calm. he’s clean tonight, you can always tell the difference.

everyone calls you mikey. 

he turns over onto his back and lets the light reach everywhere. doesn't have to say a thing. his face is deceptively open, waiting, the full weight of his attention on you, and that's more than enough.

you say, maybe i don’t want to be everyone.

his face melts into that expression you love and hate in nearly equal measure, a little pitying, a little tender, completely fucking magnetic. he stretches out one arm across the tops of both pillows in mute invitation, and you know that you’ll crawl into his arms in a second, give in the way you always do.

oh, baby, he says. you’re not everyone.

yeah?

you've never been closer to him than you are right now, with all the red lights sped through a long ways back, and yet. and yet. you still can't read him. maybe you never will.

you say, then who am i?

.

.

.

when you go to the beef for the first time, you set yourself some rules. first off, don't talk to the staff. don't talk to the staff. don't talk to the fucking staff.

don’t stare.

don’t say his name.

and as soon as you get your sandwich, you gotta go.

there’s rules. that’s your excuse for breaking your promise: if you act like any other customer, what harm can it do?

well, this.

you’ve done a decent job of pretending you don't know enough english to converse, but you’re still trying so hard not to look at carmy standing behind the counter that you let your gaze drift, go unfocused, as you anchor yourself by two fingertips barely grazing the counter. waiting for your mortadella like all the other schmucks. suddenly, your drift snags on a sound, a certain note in the voice of the guy behind you, and you turn before you have any idea what it is. your heart jumps. of course he’s got a gun, of course he fucking does, and carmy’s trying to calm him with shouting and everything else just happens. 

you wedge yourself between the guy and the counter don’t you fucking touch him back the fuck up at least the crowd’s smart enough to scatter or hit the floor and you smack the inside of his wrist knock the gun to the side where at least the only ones who could suffer would be the wall or you. bang, stupid loud. flinch. the picture frame on the wall right behind you shatters and falls, sting in your arm don’t touch him but one more twist and the gun is yours now and the guy is running, running, gone. which makes you just a person getting gawked at by strangers while your mouth is running behind. don’t you fucking —

you thought you forgot how to get scared a long time ago, but that’s obviously not true. you notice it as you pop the magazine and shake them out with a metallic tinkle in your hand, then pull the slide to clear the chamber too. yeah, you're scared.

the bullets are slippery in your sweating palm, and it's early chicago fall and no enemies left, nothing to sweat about. you slip bullets in your pocket, don’t want to give anyone a loaded gun, especially not a fucking berzatto. the shop hasn't cleared, it's louder than ever, and you're not looking at anybody, just the gun, mind on autopilot. somebody's asking you if you're okay and you're pointedly ignoring them. you say, gimme the trash can, carmy.

he does.

do i know you? he says.

the gun lands in the trash with a thud, and only then do you realize your mistake. you can’t even look at him as your stomach drops. you just fucked it for yourself. this is gonna be the last time. you turn and try to leave quick as the line re-forms beside you. chicago, god bless, still wants their fucking lunch. what happened to the rules protecting you? what happened to—

she’s bleeding, don’t let her—

it’s richie who gets to you first, which is somehow worst of all. you don’t know how he does it, you were nearly home free, but now he's right here and you’re still not looking at him as his hand closes around your good arm. you’re not looking at him but you recognize the voice, matched it to his face on your first visit to the beef. the face you matched to many photos you've seen, most of them blurry.

hey, sweetheart, let’s just—

and that’s what breaks it for you. you lift your eyes and look at him dead on and bullshit with the ferocity you only get when you’re in the middle of losing something. you don’t want any of this asshole did you think i learned to disarm a guy in kindergarten what the fuck do you think is going on here unless you want this place to be fucking mob associated then get your hands off me wasn’t the c enough or do you really need cops up your ass too—

richie’s not as stupid as he needs to be, or he’s not as smart. 

sure, yeah, he says. that’s very impressive and shit but we’re already kind of a mob joint, we owe a guy three hundred grand off book and that’s not even a joke, this is chicago, baby, and you’re bleeding. just come over here and don’t be a pain about it—i got it carm—don’t be such a fucking pain, come on.

it’s the voice that does it, and not the way he’s manhandling you back into the kitchen, it’s not the same but it’s a cousin and you just really fucking missed this shit. even though your heartbeat has slowed, you’re still dangerously stuck in that place where it might rain any moment. 

you’re still fighting him but it isn’t much, kind of autopilot, run on. it’s fucking nothing don’t be a baby what do you think this is i’m not gonna die i’m not even gonna go to the hospital richie it’s like a couple pieces of glass who cares plus the cops are gonna show up and then what. 

in the kitchen you look around hungrily. this is the place. those are the stoves, the knives, that’s the fucking mop and all. feels wobbly. you’re not used to being sentimental.

i mean jesus i just wanted a fucking sandwich, you say.

we can make you a fucking sandwich.

well i don’t want it any more!

what is your fucking problem, richie says, but he doesn’t say it right. 

here’s the office door, here’s the office, here are the piles of paperwork that used to be the bane of his existence. god but you’re weak. and as richie reaches for a first aid kit hanging from a nail above the filing cabinet, you give in one last time and steal a photo that was taped just above the desk. swift swipe. first crime you’ve felt bad about in a long time, and also the first crime that’s felt necessary.

i don’t want a fucking sandwich, you say, without skipping a beat.

fine, richie says with the air of a martyr. sit down.

he all but shoves you onto a chair. you let him, but you’re not gracious about it either. you have to resist touching your back jeans pocket where you slid the photo in, to check that it’s still there.

ebrahim’s at the door now, bearing the first aid kit.

give me that and get me a trash can and both of your fuck off, you say, and you only get three out of the four things you asked for, go figure. richie stays.

you shouldn’t even be here, so you rush it, snap open the kit, go for the tweezers, pinch the first shard and yank it out with a wince.

richie, gore might be your top pornhub category but i don't see you tipping my onlyfans, so fuck the fuck off.

words having failed, you try ignoring him, but even once all the glass is out, he hasn’t fucked off. seriously, stop hovering, you say.

do i know you? he says, but not like a proper question. like he’s on the verge of making it a statement.

no you don’t, i’m just one very observant motherfucker. now fuck off, don’t you have salami to slice or some shit?

you’d straight up flee, leave it all behind, except now there’s carmy in the doorway running his hand through his mess of hair with those wide eyes, richie standing behind him, and god yeah you do see it. how could carmy ever be anything other than a kid brother?

you okay? carmy says.

it’s not like a scratch, it’s literally a scratch. it’s literally a scratch.

no, i mean. you know. he’s struggling for it, and bless him but you’re not helping him, not one bit. that is not your job.

richie says, if you’re fine, then why are you such a fucking creep, man. why do you know our names.

carmy smacks him without looking, back of his hand to richie’s chest. what we mean to say is thank you. thank you, and do you want peppers on y—

and that’s when he sees it, over your shoulder, the empty spot over the desk. 

the regret crashes into you so hard and immediate you think you might be sick. you never should have come.

carmy says, slowly, did you take mikey? and there it is. you think with a slice of biting clarity that this is probably why he never wanted you to come here, he probably saw this one coming from miles and years away. you had one job. you fucked it.

sorry, you mutter, and you take the photo out and put it on the desk, one last look, and then you’re dodging them on the way out. you’d have shoved, but carmy just stepped aside as you charged forward, too taken aback to fight, just as innocent as ever. 

but then there’s richie right behind you and he was never innocent. 

you’re charlie, aren’t you, says richie.

as you try to navigate through the kitchen whirlwind, you can feel it behind your breastbone, like a detonation. that old game, that old thing. charlie and tommy, secret agents. 

no, you say, too quick.

no but you fucking are, and there’s a note of triumph in it, he’s sure of it now, you can’t convince him otherwise. still keep trying, though.

that’s not my name, is just, how do i—how do you work here the place is a fucking maze i just want the door for crying out loud thank you marcus jesus christ.

behind you: who’s charlie?

that’s mikey’s girl.

fresh chicago air which means grimy smoke and wind and you’re in it and you’re gone, hands shoved deep in your pockets, bullets cool against your fingers. thank fucking god. just soon enough to not hear what carmy has to say about it. escape means you’ll never know. 

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it’s a real short story: you were two fucked up people with two fucked up lives and even worse sleep schedules. you liked smoking at the same spot, sheltered from the wind by a crevice of the apartment building where you both lived. talking shit. one thing led to another. he was good with your rules and you were good with his lack of anything to bring you except, occasionally, himself. and that was it. you liked that story. it was a good one. simple. very nearly clean.

unfortunately, it’s made you incredibly easy to track down.

when you come down for your nighttime smoke, half-hoping you won’t get called that night, half-hoping you will, there he is, waiting for you outside the double doors: richie.

at the sight of him, you try to retreat, but he's still got a key card, must've been a spare that mikey gave him. he yells at you, stupid loud for the time of night, HEY, and holds up the picture. he really can’t be the stupidest man in the world, not quite, because that bait you'd always fall for no matter the gleam of the hook. 

wordlessly, you come back and you take the picture from him. you look at it for only a second before you realize you can't look at it anymore, not in front of him, so you just hold it in your hand, careful. the only photo of michael that you have, and a good one. he’s got a big grin in it, the classic, perfect, flop-haired and glowing.

my name's not charlie, you say.

yeah. you're a big top secret whatever whatever booty call, i get it, he says.

you can’t even muster the words to respond to that because everything feels too embarrassingly much, or too inadequately little. you just burn.

look, richie says, with what you might think is a pang of actual conscience if you haven't heard so much about him already. carmy just thought you would want the thing.

i do. there's a pause. neither of you quite expected you to say that, and neither of you quite expect you to say what comes next, either. or at least, not this simple. thank you.

i could text you some more if you want, he says after a second. not cool with silence, this one.

you shake your head. i cycle through old ass flip phones. because. you shrug and you make no effort at your lies. i'm just very clumsy and i tend to drop them and break them like once every two weeks, so there's no point in buying anything expensive.

uh-huh, he says dryly. makes sense.

the corner of your mouth lifts, and then you look away, willing him to fuck off your mind to fade out, or both. it doesn’t happen. he almost says something more than once, you can feel it, but whatever inside him hates silence, that thing isn’t as strong as his fear of saying whatever he’s got to say.

and your fear, it turns out, is not enough.

it's not my fault, you know? and now you're zero to a hundred, outright. why he...i mean, we broke up two months beforehand. so, like. i know you're all. i know everyone thinks.

and now richie’s still looking at you while you're talking, same as before, but there's a weight to his eyes on you that you don't quite want to squirm out from under. he's actually listening. that's the thing.

just, whatever it was, it wasn't me, you say.

there's a silence long enough that it starts to get bad, and then richie says, we never thought it was you.

what can you say to that? it's not believable but he's trying to be kind, so okay, you'll believe his blatant lies like he tacitly agreed to believe yours. it’s the type of kindness you give to a child and it sticks in your throat, but you force yourself to swallow. good manners.

you want to say thank you again, but you can't. you're not gonna thank him twice like some kind of asshole.

so you just look at him for a second, really and properly. he is michael, he's a piece of michael, he's a thousand stupid stories you both laughed over under streetlights for a couple years, annoyed and hated and felt for from afar. his hair is lighter than you expected and his eyes are bluer, he's a little shorter and there's a tiny mustard stain on the neckline of his navy shirt. this is it. another piece of the endless ending.

see you around, you say, when what you mean is the opposite.

but then he says, yeah, and you thought that was just a word, but you were wrong.

.

.

.

you were wrong and it’s actually really funny.

cause of course you go upstairs and you have your little whatever-you-call-it, up there with that picture, and then some leftover mac n cheese and the picture and the knowledge you can’t fall asleep, and the picture and going back downstairs because after all that a cigarette just makes sense.

motherfucker is chain-smoking in your spot. at least he has the grace to look vaguely embarrassed to still be there when you arrive.

jesus, you say, looking at the little heap on the flat-headed metal post that serves as the unofficial building ashtray. you’ve done worse than that, but that’s not gonna stop you from saying it.

ah, fuck off, he says in welcome, and then you pull out a pack and he pulls out his lighter. you, uh. you see the bulls the other night?

can we not talk? you say as the lighter goes click, withholding your cigarette like he'd give a damn.

he blinks, pauses.

yeah, he says. you hate the sound of his voice. it’s too raw weary, like he just came out the funeral wearing a borrowed suit. yeah, we can not talk.

only then do you let him light the cigarette.

no words after that, as promised. you’re very tired. he might be even more tired than you. you lean against the building, but he won’t do even that. every now and then, you look at him, and rarely—just a few times—you see that he’s glancing at you. but you always look away. at some point you become convinced that he’s gonna say something, or you are—something about the eyes—but weirdly that fear drains away after a bit and you’re back to comfortable silence, which feels different even if it sounds the same. 

he runs out of cigarettes pretty early on, but you’re so self-absorbed that it takes you a while to figure out that he’s not gonna leave. he’s just not. so you’re gonna have to be the one to do it. 

you push off the wall. night, fuck-o.

he laughs, and that’s it, that’s all, just a laugh, ragged at the edges. but you won’t forget it. 

come to find out, neither will he.

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[ chapter two ] [ the bear masterlist ]

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@garbinge, @narcolini, @drabbles-mc — if anyone else wants a tag, let me know.

[jpmarvel90]

PR Relationship

Masterlist Scarlett Masterlist

Word Count: 3110

Relationship: Scarlett x Singer Reader

Summary: Y/n and Scarlett are in love with each other and have a secret relationship that only a select few know about. Things change when Y/n finds out that Scarlett may have her eyes on someone else.

(I do not own the rights to the lyrics, I just think this sounds fits the story perfectly. It’s Secret Love Song by Little Mix.)

Y/N’s POV:

For the last 3 months, I have been dating the beautiful Scarlett Johansson. However, as she hasn’t come out yet, it was a complete secret with only Lizzie Olsen knowing the truth. At first it didn’t bother me at all. It was exciting. The sneaking around was fun and trying to sneak dates and kisses without being caught was exhilarating. But the last couple of weeks have started to get tiring. If ever I stay over, she’s kicking me out at like 5am so I don’t get caught by the paps, we never travel anywhere together and I’ve lost count of the amount of times she’s totally changed her demeanour around me because someone has walked by us.

Don’t get me wrong, I completely understand that Scarlett is scared of coming out. I’ve already done that and it wasn’t easy. I would never push her to do anything she’s uncomfortable with. But it’s starting to hurt, it feels more like she’s hiding me rather than protecting herself. Thing is, I love her and I’m willing to wait for her. Which is the problem, I’m scared this might break me.

So here I am, 4:30 in the morning tiptoeing around her bedroom getting ready to sneak out. I don’t want to wake her, she’s been so busy at work she deserves a good rest. I throw on some sweatpants and a hoody whilst picking up my underwear from the floor after last night’s activities. I leave a gentle kiss on Scarlett’s forehead before slipping out of the house, unheard, into the early morning.

As I’m sat in my car I can feel the exhaustion seeping through my body. I had been spending most nights at Scar’s which meant I was only getting a few hours sleep and it was starting to catch up with me. I’ve got to be at the studio at 8am so I decide there is no point in heading home. Instead I make my way to the beach to watch the sunrise and go for a swim. There’s no better way to start my day. Well other than getting to sleep in my girlfriends arms past 5!

I get to the studio early and I start having all of these thoughts in my head which I start to collate and write down. Lyrics forming as I write. I’ve not felt this inspired for a long time

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

It’s not until I start to pull the lyrics together that I realise how much this whole situation is hurting me. By the end of the day it’s all starting to come together, the quickest that I have ever written a song. My team love it and are already planning for me to sing it on Jimmy Kimmel. I push back though. It’s not fair to Scarlett to hear about my feelings through an interview. But writing the song has helped, I’m feeling better already.

As I get into the car I check my phone. I’ve not spoken with Scarlett all day. That’s not unusual as for us though. But a smile forms on my face when I see a message from her.

Scarlett:

Hey Babe, thanks for this morning. I really needed that sleep. I know you’re in the studio all day so can’t talk. I’m working late but perhaps you could come over tomorrow? Love you xx

Me:

Hey Scar, no problem, you need your sleep! Tomorrow would be great. Love you too xx

The next evening I’m sat on the sofa in Scarlett’s living room her legs draped over mine as we watch TV. She has her laptop resting on her legs finishing up the last bit of work before she’s done for the day. I’m just sat scrolling through my phone when I seeing articles popping up about Scarlett and her new partner. We’d been so careful to not been seen together in more than a friendly capacity. In fact, by the way we act in public you wouldn’t think we were that close as friends.

But then my heart stops, the articles aren’t referring to me but Chris Evans. What the fuck?! I can feel my heart beating faster like it’s going to beat out of my chest. Then I click on one article, “Co-Stars Scarlett Johansson and Chris Evans spotting kissing on a dinner date.” A photo accompanying it. That was yesterday! I sit up with a jolt feeling like I was going to be sick. My God she’s cheating on me and she’s not even trying to hide it!

“Hey what’s wrong Babe, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Scarlett says concerned looking over her laptop to me. I try to speak but I can’t form words. I can see her starting to get worried as she puts her laptop down on the table and goes to put her arm on my back. I’m quick to pull away and just throw my phone in her direction. She looks at the screen and her eyes grow wide.

“Y/N this isn’t what it looks like, I swear. Please..” Running my hands through my hair I stand up not even able to sit next to her. “I mean it looks like you’ve got your tongue down Evans’ throat. Not sure what else it could look like Scarlett!” I say coldly trying so hard not to yell. “Is this why you hid me? Not wanting anyone to know. Am I the dirty little secret to keep until you have Evans?” Pacing round the room I can feel my chest get tighter and my breathing becoming erratic.

“NO! I’m not cheating on you Y/N, I love you!” “THEN WHAT IS THIS!” So much for not shouting. I can feel my heart breaking in two. “Please just let me explain. With the new Avengers movie coming out our teams thought it would be good PR if we got some rumours going about being in a relationship. We had lunch and dinner dates here and there making sure to look like a couple for the paparazzi. I promise you Y/N there is nothing going on.”

I immediately stop my pacing, turning to her in disbelief. “So you can’t tell anyone about me, but you’re happy to go along with a fake relationship for you movie. Great, good to know where I sit in your priorities. Did you even consider telling me, it’s weird but I would have understood? Instead I find out by finding a picture of you kissing!” I can’t stop the tears anymore, but I won’t let her see me sob.

“Y/N please…” Scarlett grabs my hands trying to get me to look at her. “I-I can’t do this anymore.” I whisper pulling my hands away. “Wait, what do you mean? Y/N?” she says in a scared tone. “I’ve spent the last 3 months doing everything you ever asked. I never pushed for you to do anything you were uncomfortable with, even if it was at a detriment to me. I was waiting for you to be happy in yourself that you could share us with the world. I have always put your first. I knew this could break me and it has. I need to put myself first this time as it’s evident you won’t.” Turning my back on her I grab my things and walk towards her door.

I can hear her running up behind me and she grabs my shoulders spinning me around. “No, you can’t go. I’m so sorry Y/N, I love you, please you can’t leave me. Don’t go we can work this out.” Looking in her eyes I can see the pain. Her cheeks are stained with tears. “We don’t need to work anything out Scar, you do. I just hope you find happiness one day without having to hide yourself way.” With that I walk out, my heart tearing from my chest. A part of me just wishing that one day she might be ready for this relationship as a whole.

Scarlett’s POV:

I had really fucked this up. I hadn’t slept for days and had shut myself away, calling in sick to work to avoid seeing anyone. I had never felt pain like this. Y/N was my world. I love her with all my heart. I had always intended to tell the everyone but it just felt too hard and she was so great at giving me time. But this PR relationship with Chris was by far the biggest mistake I’ve ever made. This isn’t me, I don’t intentionally hurt people but it feels like I did with Y/N.

Whilst in my cave of self-pity and depression I hear banging on the door. Dragging myself up I find an angry Lizzie stood there with her Wanda head tilt. Shit that’s terrifying! “What the fuck Scar?!” She huffs pushing herself into my house. “Well hello to you too Lizzie” I half chuckle. “You broke her when all she has ever done is put your first. I warned you that you needed to be honest with yourself or you’ll lose her.” She’s angry but her tone softens when she sees the state I’m in. “Geeze Scar when was the last time you slept?” She said pulling me in for a hug. “I can’t sleep without her.” I whisper tears starting to form in my eyes.

We move to the sofa and she takes my hands in hers. “From what I hear, Y/N didn’t get much sleep with you. Staying up til God knows when with you then being kicked out at 5am. Did you not notice how tired she’d been?” I just shake my head in shame. “I’ve screwed up Lizzie and I don’t know how to get her back. I’ve told my team I won’t go ahead with the fake relationship anymore but I know I need to do so much more than that to show her I’m in this for the long run.” I don’t dare even speak that I’m terrified that I’ve lost her forever, in fear that speaking it will make it true.

“Scarlett, you need to decide what scares you the most. Coming out and fearing people will see you differently, or losing Y/N, the woman you are madly in love with, for good. Just don’t take too long in making that decision or it could be too late.” She pulls me into a hug and we lie together on the sofa. “I miss her Lizzie” I sniffle. “Well, she’s performing on Jimmy Kimmel. How about we watch that?” I nod and she grabs the remote switching over to her performance.

Y/N’s Performance:

Jimmy: Performing her latest single, please welcome to the stage, Y/N Y/L/N!

The lights dim with a sole spotlight shining on Y/N who is sat at a piano. She starts to play as the notes ring out through the studio.

We keep behind closed doors

Every time I see you, I die a little more

Stolen moments that we steal as the curtain falls

It'll never be enough

As you drive me to my house

I can't stop these silent tears from rolling down

You and I both have to hide

On the outside where I can't be yours and you

Can't be mine

But I know this

We got a love that is homeless

Why can't I hold you in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

It's obvious you're meant for me

Every piece of you, it just fits perfectly

Every second, every thought, I'm in so deep

But I'll never show it on my face

But we know this, we got a love that is homeless

Why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

I don't wanna live love this way

I don't wanna hide us away

I wonder if it ever will change

I'm living for that day

Someday

When you hold me in the street

And you kiss me on the dance floor

I wish that we could be like that

Why can't we be like that

'Cause I'm yours, I'm yours

Oh, why can't you hold me in the street?

Why can't I kiss you on the dance floor?

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't it be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't I say that I'm in love?

I wanna shout it from the rooftops

I wish that it could be like that

Why can't we be like that?

'Cause I'm yours

Why can't we be like that

Wish we could be like that

The lights faded as the camera zoomed in close enough to see that Y/N was crying before the stage went dark and the audience erupt in applause.

Scarlett’s POV:

Lizzie and I just sat there in silence. I could hear the pain in her voice and it hurt me to know that it was me that caused it. I was pulled out of my trance by Lizzie squeezing me into a tight hug whispering in my ear. “If this didn’t help you decide then I don’t know what will.” She was right, the only person who I care about is Y/N. I’m not scared anymore. I’m going to win her back.

I’m up all night with Lizzie working a way out that I can come out and show my love for Y/N. An Instagram post didn’t seem like enough and a press release was too impersonal. It needed to be something special, and that’s when Lizzie came up with a risky but perfect plan. I just hope that she could forgive me and we can start out lives together a fresh.

Timeskip

It was a week later and here I am sat in the back of Y/N’s limo. She just doesn’t know it. It’s the night of the Grammy’s and Y/N is up for an award. I’m so proud of her and it’s time to show her that she is my number one priority. Lizzie’s grand plan so far had worked. We spoke with Y/N’s team and I explained the whole situation. Her manager was surprisingly nice about and said that it explained a lot about her behaviour recently. She had agreed to arrange a secret plus one for Y/N. I would wait in her car to surprise to walk down the red carpet with her, as her girlfriend. I just hoped she wouldn’t kick me out on the curb.

My heart rate starts to pick up as I hear her talking as she walk towards the car. God I’ve missed that voice. The car door opens and she gets in letting out a slight sigh as she sits. It takes her a moment before she notices me sat there with a nervous smile on my face and she jumps “Jesus Scar, you scared the shit out of me.” We both let out an awkward chuckle. “What are you doing here?” She asks not quite able to maintain the eye contact. This is it, the moment I win my girl back.

I put my finger under her chin and lift it so she’s looking at me. My God she is breathtakingly beautiful! I then take both of her hands in mine taking a deep breath “Y/N. Since the day I met you, I knew I was going to fall madly in love with you. Every day I spent with you I fell more and more in love. No one has ever made me as happy as you do. I know it’s only been 3 months but I know you are the women I want to spend the rest of my life with. I screwed up, I know I can’t take that back. I was so paralysed with fear about coming out and people’s reaction to it, that I didn’t think about you and our relationship. I just let you carry on making the sacrifices for me. But today that changes. I love you with all my heart and I’m not prepared to lose you again. I am so fucking proud of what you have achieve this last year. You deserve everything you are going to get tonight. And…. If you’ll have me… I want to be there for you every step of the way. No more hiding. I want to walk down that red carpet on your arm as your proud girlfriend. And then I’m going to spend the rest of my life showing you how much I love you.”

There is a long silence as her eyes flicker between my own trying to get a read of me. I hope she can see how sincere I’m being, that I mean every word that I’m saying. “Don’t hurt me again. I don’t think I can survive if you do.” She whispers. The biggest smile appears on my face as I reach up and put my hand to her cheek wiping away the stray tear. “I promise I won’t. Can I kiss you?” I ask. “You never have to ask Scar.” And with that I pull her into a passionate kiss. I have missed her lips connecting with mine. It makes me feel complete. “You look absolutely beautiful Y/N. I’m so glad I get to call you mine.” She laughs and pulls me in for another soft kiss.

As we pull up to the venue Y/N grabs my hand. “Are you sure Scar? I don’t want you to do something you’re going to regret.” I look at her and smile. “The only regret I have is not telling the world how much I love you sooner. Let’s do this.” The fear is gone, I’m only excited now. As the door to the limo opens, I see the start of our new life together.