#Please for the love of god talk to me about this

[popcornpoppypop]

Like You

Summary: You're a single mom to an angry teen boy. Jack isn't phased, he can handle the anger. He is there for your son, no matter what. Years later, Pittfest makes them more alike than anyone would wish.

Warnings: Angst, fighting, angry teen, mentions of death, mass shooting, blood, medical inaccuracies, talk of amputation.

There wasn’t a day that passed where you weren’t beyond grateful for Jack Abbot. Most people would have turned and ran the moment they found out you had a 14 year old son. You couldn’t blame them. It’s a lot of baggage. But Jack never blinked.

“Honey, you are the best person I’ve ever met. Why the hell wouldn’t I love someone you made?” He told you the night you had finally let him in.

“He can be angry sometimes, Jack. He might not like you for a while.” You warned, not wanting to sugar coat anything and be left when things got hard.

“I was angry for most of my life. I know what it’s like. I’ll be okay. It’s not about me anyway.” He shrugged.

“Oh my god, just fucking kiss me already.” You sighed as you pulled him into you, his laughter rumbling in his chest,

Your son wasn’t introduced to your boyfriends often. You never really found any that you felt would stand the rough weather. But something in Jack made you trust him. The first meeting went over like a lead balloon. Ended with your son shouting at Jack.

“You don’t care about me! You just want to fuck my mom! Fucking pervert!” Your son,Matt, shouted at him.

“Matthew! Stop that, you don’t speak like to anyone, let alone someone I care about!” You scolded.

“Y/N, it’s okay.” Jack said stroking your arm, trying to calm you down.

“He’s just here to get in your pants! Thinks if he buddies up to me it’ll happen.” Matt growled.

“I know that’s what’s happened in the past, but I promise that is not what I’m doing right now.” Jack raised his hands up like he was calming a wild animal.

“Oh please, you’re just like the rest.” Matt scoffed, pacing back and forth.

“Matt, please just sit down and let’s talk about this.” You plead with the boy.

“Shut up, bitch!” He snapped. Jack stood up fast, the chair flying back from underneath him.

“Hey! You listen to me now! You can talk how you want to me, I don’t care, I can take it. You will never, NEVER, speak to your mother like that. She doesn’t deserve your anger.” Jack growled. Matt stopped looking at Jack in all his intimidating power.

“You’ll never be my father.” Matt whispered before running upstairs. Jack sighed shaking his head.

“I’m so sorry, Jack. I-I didn’t think he’d get this upset. Maybe that was naïve. You didn’t deserve that.” You sighed, head in your hands.

“Honey, I’ve had worst hurled in my direction. He can be angry with me. If that’s what he needs.” He said smoothing your hair from your face.

For months, Jack would come by the house and try to speak with Matt only to be met with insults. Jack saw how it tore you up, tried to console you. You both knew it was part of the process, it didn’t make it easier.

You had to go on a work trip for the weekend, you’d asked Jack to stay at your house to keep an eye on Matt. Matt had broken a glass when you’d told him.

“If I can handle violent psych patients and IEDs, I can handle a teenager.” Jack joked.

Matt had stayed in his room for the most part, running downstairs to grab food and run back to his room. One night, Jack was asleep on the couch, the TV playing old M*A*S*H reruns. His prosthetic leaning against the side table.

Matt watched him for a moment. Seeing the stoic man in such a vulnerable state took him back for a moment. He stalked over, keeping as quiet as he could. He picked up the fake leg and tried to leave with it.

“If you don’t give that back, I’ll have to hop on one leg while I kick your ass and that’ll be embarrassing for both of us.” Jack grumbled as he woke up.  Matt cringed as he brought the leg back. He’d crossed a line he didn’t want to.

“Whatever.” Matt mumbled as he set the leg back down. He stood staring at Jack’s leg for a while. Jack let him, not embarrassed about it, never had been. Occasionally, he’d be insecure when it made certain activities of the sexual nature more difficult. He’d learned how to work around it.

“You can ask.” Jack said, catching Matt off guard.

“What happened? Mom said you were in the Army. It get blown off?” Matt was trying to poke the sensitive parts.

“Yeah. I was a medic on a tour in Iraq. Got shot, blew most of my foot off.” Jack nodded. Matt was somehow not prepared for a blunt answer, even though he got nothing else from Jack.

“What’s it like being less of a man?” Matt hissed.

“I’ll let you know if that happens.” Jack sniffed.

“You’re annoying.”

“Kid, you can say what you want. It’s not going to phase me.” Jack turned the volume up, his ring catching the light.

“Mom said you’re a widow too.”

“Yes.” Jack’s voice ever so slightly tightens, ready for some insult.

“You remember her still?” Matt’s head hung low as he sat at the other end of the couch.

“Every damn day. Always will. Your mother understands.” Jack nodded.

“What happened?” Matt didn’t meet his eyes.

“She got sick. I couldn’t save her.” Jack cleared his throat.

“That’s like your whole thing.”

“Yeah. I know. Some things are beyond our control.” Jack’s eyes didn’t leave the screen.

“My dad watched this shit too.” Matt nodded to the TV.

“He had good taste.”

“He would have liked you.” Matt huffed. Jack looked over at him, bewildered.

“Yeah? Why?”

“You take good care of us. You’re not a real asshole, just like a surface asshole. You want people to think you are but you’re not.”

“I try my best. I care about you too, Matt. I know it’s hard to believe, but I do.” Jack turned to face the boy. He looked like a child more than he ever had.

“I know. It’s…something in my head makes me want to hate you. Like if…if I don’t I’ll forget him.”

“You won’t. He’ll always be around for you. I’m not him, I wouldn’t try to be. Maybe we can try getting along for a bit, see how it feels. I know it would make your mom’s life easier.” Jack raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Try it out.” He chuckled as he got up and left.

After that night, Matt relaxed a little. You were so grateful to have some relief to his anger. Jack felt that same relief.

Life got a rhythm to it soon after. Jack moved in and Matt didn’t argue so much. They would watch the Steelers together and you’d pretend you wanted to, mostly you just enjoyed being one family for a moment.

Three years on and things were comfortable. Matt asking Jack’s advise about girls and school. They would go out to the batting cage every Sunday. Jack always made sure he had Sundays off, time to spend with his family.

“Jack, I’ll be fine. I have enough sunscreen!” Matt groaned as Jack shoved a can of sunscreen spray into Jacks bag.

“It’s going to be hot and there will no shade. Melanoma ain’t something to fuck around with, Kid.” Jack said.

“Matt, humor him so you can leave.” You laughed as you walked out of the kitchen.

“Look,” Jack whispered looking behind to make sure you were out of ear shot. “not just sunscreen in there. You be careful, I put a couple sizes so we didn’t have to get that personal.” He winked.

“Oh my god! Stop talking!” Matt whined.

“He’s right Sweetie! I see way too many teen boys at the clinic with STDs. It’s no fun.” You chuckled as you walked back in.

“I tried to be subtle, that’s on you.” Jack pointed at Matt. “Jake will be there, if you need someone go find him.”

“It’s a concert. I think I’ll be fine. You two are paranoid.” Matt laughed.

“It’s our job. I see too many things go sideways.” Jack sighed.

“Matty, we just want you to be careful. Be back in this house by 10pm. A second later and I will lose my shit.” You smiled.

“Yeah, yeah. I know.” Matt rolled his eyes.

“Hey, listen to your mother. You treat that girl well too.” Jack said.

“Girl? What girl?” You asked looking between them.

“Jack! Come on man!”

“Matt, please be careful. Go have fun.” You sighed, not wanting to give yourself more to worry about.

“Call if you need anything.” Jack said. Matt waved you both off as he ran out the door.

“Is 17 too young for a music festival? Did I just make a huge mistake?” You asked, suddenly filled with anxiety.

“Hell if I know. Things are different these days. I would have snuck out to go, so he was probably going either way.” Jack shook his head as he started for the bedroom.

“You want breakfast before you pass out?”

“No. Rough night. Just want sleep.” Jack said. You marveled at how he never let Matt see how heavy his job was. He watched people die and came home and joke about football with Matt. You worked in the low-income clinic attached to PTMC, never seeing half the things he did.

You sat in the sun, enjoying the quiet of the late afternoon. Your garden was the small way you kept your sanity. The flowers blooming made you feel like you weren’t a complete failure at life. You tried to stay out of the house when Jack was sleeping, allowing him some peace.

“Didn’t I just give the melanoma speech this morning?” Jack stood in the patio doorway.

“The day got away from me.” You chuckled.

“Get in here before you fry.” He said, his eyes twinkling.

“Was that an order?” You smirked.

“Yes, it very much was.” He said, he leaned on the doorway, his biceps flexing in the sun. You felt a little dizzy looking at him. You stood, dusting yourself off as you walked up.

“I’m covered in dirt.” You laughed.

“Never minded a little dirt.” He said tilting your chin up with a finger and gently kissing you. His hand tangled in your hair as he deepened the kiss.

“The neighbors are definitely watching.” You smiled.

“Let them.” He said as he pulled you close.

“Take me to the bed, our backs can’t handle the patio bricks.” You chuckled.

“Is that an order?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, Sir, it is.” You bit at his bottom lip. In a swift motion he wrapped an arm around your waist and lifted you over his shoulder.

“Yes, Ma’am!” He said taking you towards the bedroom.

“Oh my god! Do not hurt yourself being an idiot!” You giggled.

“I lift patients all day, you think I can’t carry you to bed? Please!” He threw you on the bed.

“Take your shirt off.” You barked, suddenly desperate to see him. He didn’t waste time, threw the shirt onto the floor. His muscles shining in the sunlight.

“Now you.” He was practically drooling as you undid your shirt and let it sink to the floor. He stood between your legs, running his hands up your arms, across your collar bone, taking his time tracing his fingertips up your throat.

“dispatch sending all available units, Signal 36, Pittfest. Shots fired.” The police scanner buzzed with the warning.

“Jack did that just say-”

“Call Matt.” Jack dropped his hands fumbling to find his phone. You scrambled to find your phone, dialing Matt.

“It’s going straight to voicemail.” Your voice shook.

“Dammit! They probably took over the cell signal.” Jack growled.

“Jack, what do I do!?” You’re breath picking up.

“Honey, breathe. You gotta stay calm.” He said, holding your face in his hands. “You keep trying to call him. Once he gets away from the festival grounds, he’ll be able to reach you. You stay here, let all your neighbors know to watch out for him.” He told you.

“What are you doing?” You looked confused as he started dressing.

“Baby, I gotta go into work. They’ll be overwhelmed with patients. He might head there first, I’ll be there if he is.” Jack sighed.

“Jack, what if-”

“No. Don’t go there.” He stopped the thought before you could finish it. “I’ll have someone monitoring my phone if I can’t. You call me the second you see him. I love you.” Jack kissed you as he grabbed his bag and ran out the door.

Jack was right, The Pitt was overwhelmed almost immediately. He kept his head down, going from patient to patient. Kept asking Dana for updates.

“Jake? Jake, where’s Matt?” Jack ran up to the boy, his leg oozing blood.

“I don’t know, man! I lost him in the crowd. I tried to find him.”

“Okay, it’s okay. Sit down, we’ll fix you up.” Jack said as he assessed the leg and ordered treatments,  running back, seeing the state Leah was in. Robby wasn’t going to handle that well. He kept working, all he could do was keep working.

“Jack…” Dana’s voice brought him back, looking over as Robby crumbled.

“Come on man. You’ve done more for her than anyone else. If this was a different day, she still wouldn’t have made it.” Jack said.  Robby kept pushing meds and doing compressions for a moment, Jack’s words settling into him.

“Stop compressions.”

“Want me to call it?” Jack offered. Robby shook his head.

“Time of death 2104.”  Robby shook his head. Jack patted him on the shoulder.

“I got another red! GSW to the abdomen and right leg! Lost a lot of blood in the field.” Shen called as he wheeled in another patient. Jack tossed his gloves off and grabbed new ones. When he turned he saw the shoes. The shoes he bought Matt for his sixteenth birthday. The shoes he had begged for, never giving you or Jack peace until he had them. The white shoes now red.

“No.” He whispered as he ran over. The pale face of Matt knocked the wind out of him.

“Dr. Abbot, IO is placed. Should I start giving blood?” Princess asked. Jack froze. “Dr. Abbot?” Princess asked, looking at him confused.

“uh…yeah, yes. Start giving blood, we have to get his clothes off.” Jack’s voice shook. “Dr. Mohan! I need you here!” He called, his voice sharp and broken making everyone face him.

“Oh god.” Dana gasped.

“Dr. Abbot?” Samira questioned. “Do you need to step away?” She asked.

“I-I…Robby! I need you!” He cried out. Robby turned, his face red and confused until he saw Matt’s face. He ran over, pushing Jack away.

“Dr. Mohan start intubation.” Robby started barking orders. Dana came over and dragged Jack away.

“Call her.” She handed him the phone and ran over to help.

His hands shook as he hit your contact.

“Jack? What’s going on? Is he there?” Your voice is thick with worry.

“Honey, he’s here. He’s hurt.” His voice was so broken, you’d never heard him like that. The fear ran up your spine and grabbed your heart.

“Oh my god. Okay. I’m…fuck. Okay, I’m on my way.” You cried as you hung up the phone and ran to your car.

Jack watched as his friends worked to save his stepson. Watched as Robby did everything he could after just coding his own stepson’s girlfriend. He felt like his heart was in his throat and he was choking.

“Dr. Walsh, admit this one to surgery.” Robby called.

“He’ll be next in line, we’re finishing up with the other now.” She nodded as she walked with the nurses towards the elevators with Matt.

“Dr. Abbot, he’s okay. He’s going to surgery. Damage to the bowel, his right leg has some pretty bad damage, but he’ll survive.” Dr. Mohan told him.

“Jack, get some air.” Dana said. Jack stood, going straight to Robby.

“Brother…thank you…” He said.

“Yeah. You did the same.” Robby nodded. “Jake’s leg is okay?” Robby questioned.

“Yeah, yeah. It’ll be okay, won’t need amputation.” Jack cleared his throat. Robby nodded and walked off.

“Jack! Jack, where is he!?” You came running in, the blood on the floor almost stopping you. Jack ran up and wrapped you in his arms.

“He’s okay! He’s okay! He’s in surgery. Robby saved him.” He told you as you sobbed into his chest.

“Oh my god, thank god!” You cried.

“The leg was pretty bad, Honey. I don’t know if they’ll be able to fix it.” Jack sighed.

“He’s alive, that’s what matters to me.” You said, finally taking in the state of him. You brushed the sweat soaked hair from his face.

“I froze.” He said, his voice catching as he looked away.

“You got the right people to help him. That’s all you needed to do.” You told him.

“I’ve never froze like that.” He said, trying to stop the tears.

“Jack, your son was on the table in front of you. I would have too. Everyone would have. He’s going to be okay, Right?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s what we need to hold onto right now.” You kissed his temple.

“He’ll be in surgery for a while, you can sit in the break room until I can take you up.” Jack nodded.

“I can help.” You said.

“No, not tonight.” He said as he walked off.

“Hun, come sit with me.” Dana said pulling to the nurses station.

“He’s in shock.” You muttered.

“Yeah. We all are. He loves that boy.” Dana sighed as she handed you a chart to start entering, knowing you’d go crazy if you didn’t do anything.

Jack powered through getting his patients charts in and dealing with any last treatments. His mind clouded but functional.

“Dr. Abbot? Dana said to let you know they called down from surgery for you.” Javadi said.

“Okay. Can you make sure that the patient in bay six gets another round of O-neg.” He ordered as he walked off towards the nurses station.

“He’s getting moved to a room right now. They said Room 314.” Dana told him. You jumped up and followed him to the elevator.

The ride up to the third floor felt like an eternity. The door opened and the quiet on the floor was stunning. You both took a breath before leaving.

“Dr. Abbot, we got your boy over here.” Walsh waved over. “Some damage to the small bowel, we were able to correct, made the repairs to the liver. He’s got a broken rib from the impact. He’ll be on strict rest and NPO for a few days, IV calories strictly so those bowels can heal.” Walsh rattled off.

“Thank you.” You said, wiping the tears from your face.

“Course. I do need to warn you. We did everything we could to save the leg. The damage was too much. We had to amputate. Half way up the shin, like yours.” Walsh nodded. Jack squeezed his eyes shut. He never wanted this for him. He wanted to keep this pain from him.

“Okay. Thank you.” Jack said as if he was still holding his breath. You both entered the room. The breath caught in your throat as you took him in. His face so pale and the wires sticking off of him. The way he lay so still.

“Jack…” You sobbed. He wrapped you up in his arms. His eyes never left Matt’s right leg.

“He’ll be okay.” He said, burying his face in your hair.

You both sat next to him, refusing to leave. He didn’t wake for two days. The agony of waiting was obvious on your face. You were dozing off, head on Jack’s shoulder.

“Mom…” Matt groaned. You both shot awake.

“I’m here, baby. I’m here.” You said as you held his face in your hands.

“Mom.” He started to cry. You wrapped him up in the arms. Jack kept a hand on his leg.

“You’re okay, Matty.” You sobbed.

“it hurts.” He groaned, he tried to sit up. Jack put a hand to his chest and pushed him back.

“Take it easy. You gotta stay down for a while.” Jack said as he hit the call button.

“I remember the shots, I heard everyone screaming. There was a burning in my belly and then nothing.” Matt’s voice shook.

“Dr. Abbot?” a nurse came in.

“He’s in pain. Have Walsh put in an order for more morphine please.” He ordered.

“You got shot in the abdomen, Matt. They repaired it, you’ll be able to eat solids in a few days.” Jack explained.

“Okay. My leg hurts though.” Matt looked confused. Jack shook his head looking at the ground.

“Baby, you got shot in the leg. They tried everything, but they couldn’t save it. They had to cut it off at the shin.” You explained, trying to take the burden from Jack. It was heavy, too heavy for anyone but more so for Jack.

“I lost my leg? It’s just gone?” His voice filled with panic and confusion.

“If they left it, you would have been in so much pain.” You told him.

“We’ll help you through this, Kid. You’re strong. Stronger than I was.” Jack told him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m like you?” Matt looked up at Jack, he looked like a child.

“Yeah.” Jack nodded, trying and failing to stop the tears.

“Right now, we focus on getting you better. Then we focus on your leg.” You told him.

“You’ll help me, right?” Matt looked at Jack.

“Always, Matt. I’m always going to help you.” Jack pulled him into a tight hug. The two clung onto each other and cried.

You watched them, your chest tight. The healing would hurt, but you knew your family would make it.

[no-144444]

hiii can u pls make a kimi fic that has angst and fluff??? u can make the story☺️☺️☺️🩷🩷 tyyy

sacrifices- k.antonelli

꩜summary: everyone has to make sacrifices...

꩜pairing: andrea kimi antonelli x fem! reader

“We need your full focus, Kimi,” Toto sighed. “You have a chance this year. You need to capitalise.” 

The way he said it sent off alarm bells in his head, and he gulped. There was something about the way Toto was looking at him, that silent sympathy but tough love he was used to. Last minute light night meetings were reserved for real problems, and it wasn’t like Kimi was underperforming. He had won a race already. He was qualifying well. He was on the podium constantly. There was a certain silence in the motorhome that always made him uneasy, and it sure as hell wasn’t helping the way this conversation made him feel. 

“I plan on,” he shrugged. “And the team is my full focus.” 

Toto sighed. “You don’t understand what I’m asking, do you?” he looked down, exasperated, as Kimi shook his head. “Y/n. You won't… I’ve talked to Y/n.” 

That was all kinds of fucked. Kimi’s jaw dropped, his brain bringing him to his feet before he could think about what he was doing, who he was threatening, or what this all meant. The air in the room vanished, replaced only by a thick tension, one Kimi would only add to. His whole body went cold. “You do not get to meddle in my life!” he shouted, crossing the table and getting right up into Toto’s face, a pointed finger at his chest, hitting it, hard. “I have a girlfriend who is nothing but supportive of me and what I do, what I give to this team, even though it takes away from her! And I know you like to pretend I’m your son because it makes you feel better about the fact that your actual sons barely speak to you, but you’re not my dad,” his chest was heaving, head burning with anger, and he scoffed. “Fuck you.” 

Toto took a deep breath, shocked at his outburst. Stupidly, he thought this was going to be easy. He thought Kimi would do what he asked blindly. He was wrong. “We all have to make sacrifices-” 

“I will not sacrifice her,” he demanded, his voice cutting through the Austrian’s. “Not more than I already have to.” 

And he turned and left. He couldn’t do this right now, not when he just got you back from an argument about something stupid he did. He was working hard everyday to make you feel how much he cares about you, how much he loves you, despite the thousands of miles of distance. He dialled your number, terrified that Toto had gotten to you before him, and fucked up any chance he had of reconciliation. 

“Kimi?” You sighed. “What?”

“Please don’t tell me-”

“Toto talked to me,” you sighed. “Is that what you want?”

“NO!” he practically screamed down the phone. “God no!”

You let out another teary sigh. “Kimi, if it’s what you want I’ll understand,” you sniffled. “You’re busy now, you’re a famous F1 driver, you don’t have to just keep me around because you feel bad-”

“Baby please,” he begged. “Just please don’t. I love you, I have always loved you. I’m not giving you up just because Toto asked me to,” he shook his head, his feet working as fast as they could to get to his room before he had a breakdown. “Just- please don’t leave me.” 

You were quiet. “We can talk about this when you get home, alright?”

The silence was deafening when you hung up the phone and his mind raced as he sat in his driver’s room, his life falling apart. 

“Ready for quali?” a knock at the door signalled his time for leaving all of this shit in his driver’s room and making sure it didn’t touch his helmet. He wasn’t sure if he could. 

The dim light of the setting sun made the perfect backdrop for your quiet evening alone. You usually liked evenings like this, just you and your dinner, finishing up some college work, making yourself dinner, and calling Kimi. Little candles all over your apartment, a cosy blanket and couch, maybe the cat from next door would come in through the balcony and lie down beside you where Kimi usually sat. 

Except, that evening there was no calling Kimi. And the apartment felt much too cold. You couldn’t unhear Toto’s points about how Kimi performed better when you were there, because he had less to work about and juggle, but you couldn’t always be there. You had your own life and friends, your own family to take care of, your school and your work. You couldn’t drop it all just to follow Kimi around the globe. You adored him, but come on, that’s a huge ask from someone. And then Toto suggested breaking up and your heart just… broke. 

But if that’s what it has to be, then so be it. 

The door opened. “Y/n?” His voice was clearly tired but determined. You turned your eyes to the door, a puff of smoke leaving your mouth as your eyes found his. He hurried over to you and took the cigarette out of your hand before stomping on it, mumbling something about ‘Peccato per te. Giving me heart attacks’.

It was a bad habit you'd picked up from some of your college friends, but you'd gotten it down to only doing it when you were really stressed. You thought this situation more than applied to that.

You sat on the couch as he closed the sliding door of your apartment balcony and sighed. “Congrats on the weekend. Pole and podium are huge.” 

He sat down beside you, sighing. “It was… alright, I guess. Didn’t feel as good with you not there,” he turned his head with a small smile and saw the way you dropped at his words. He cleared his throat, not knowing what to say in the prolonged silence. 

“I think Toto’s right,” you practically whispered. “You don’t need me coming in and giving you more stress.”

He shook his head, taking your hands. “No, si sbaglia. You’re everything to me-”

“I shouldn’t be. Racing should, Kimi,” you sighed, dropping his hand. “Let’s face the facts, you’re going places in that sport, you’re going to be a household name. You don’t need me fucking up your first season just becasse-”

“You’re not fucking anything up,” he shook his head, calmer than you’d even seen him during a fight. “And I don’t care what Toto says, I love you, and I’m not giving that up. Fine della storia,” he shook his head and took your hands again, bringing them to his mouth to kiss them. “You’re brilliantly smart,” one kiss. “And stubborn,” another. “And everything I want. I’m not giving you up because Toto doesn’t understand me.”

You were quiet for a long moment. He was so sure. So soft with you. There was something in his voice that almost made you believe him. So you nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay?” he questioned, making sure. 

You turned your head and nodded. “Okay.” 

He leaned in and kissed you, and it felt right. But that growing pit in your stomach made you feel sick, and you didn’t know how long you could act like everything was fine. 

Toto had begged you to break up with him. 

You were considering it, for his own good.

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[leashybebes]

Tommy's regretted the crack about competition since the second it left his mouth. First for the vulnerable insecurity it exposed. Then for the way it blew that second chance apart.

But now? Now with Evan saying things like yeah, but he was upset, we both were, and it's fine, he didn't mean anything by it and I mean, he wasn't wrong, you know how I get and but god, it was so good to see Christopher and Pepa again, he regrets it like he never has before.

Because if he says what he's thinking (man, what a fucking dick) then he's - what? A jealous ex? Trying to turn Evan against his best friend who he already said with his own stupid mouth that he saw as a threat? Yeah, no thanks. Evan's clear eyed, obviously wholeheartedly on board with what he's saying, and this accidental run in at the grocery store is so completely not the time for Tommy to say he was wrong he was wrong please tell me you know that he was wrong please tell me you know you're better than that please tell me you know you're allowed to feel exactly how you feel please tell me you know you're trying so hard and that means something please tell me you know you're good.

"Do you, uh. Do you wanna get coffee?" he asks instead.

Evan blinks, like he's surprised, like they haven't spent ten minutes talking next to the avocados, getting in people's way, earning themselves dirty looks and just - not caring.

"I would love that," Evan says.

They abandon their baskets in the end, only having picked up a few things each. Tommy can shop later, but there's something about the deliberate lack of tension in Evan's shoulders, the deliberate absence of grief in his face that makes him feel ephemeral, insubstantial, like he'll disappear if Tommy looks away from him for longer than a blink.

He lets their elbows bump as they walk two blocks to a coffee shop, keeps his eyes on Evan as they order drinks, find a table in the sun. It's familiar, but it's not. They each paid for their own coffees, for one thing, and Evan doesn't look adorably nervous this time. He looks tired. Just tired. Tommy wonders how deep he's locked down everything other than tired, and why he felt the need (what a fucking dick, he doesn't say again).

"How are you holding up?" he asks, taking care to make his voice soft.

Evan looks down at his coffee. Looks back up at Tommy. Looks over Tommy's shoulder at the street. Looks back to him. "R-really bad," he admits quietly.

"Okay," Tommy says. "That's okay, Evan. Do you wanna talk about it?"

[sargeteen]

📝 ENCHANTED TO MEET YOU⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡

ᵎ!ᵎ𐔌 a lewis hamilton smau they were close during the filming of the f1 movie , and they were close the time he came to ferrari for a grand prix . are they just friends , or have they been dating for longer than we realize ?

pairing & warnings ... ♯ lewis hamilton x secret wag (hab) ! male reader ꒱ fc: damson idris ﹕ fuck men and their super cute and secret age gap relationships requested by @bunnisgreen

liked by charles_leclerc, f1, scuderiaferrari, and others tagged: lewishamilton

vogue lewis hamilton stuns at the met gala.

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scuderiaferrari that's our 7-time wdc driver right there 😮‍💨 ⤷ userone 8-time***

charles_leclerc looking great lh! ❤️ ⤷ usertwo i'm crying please put the gay away charles ⤷ userthree let my man gay out on the tl 💔

userfour if he's not voted best dressed i don't care to see the list ⤷ userfive he's the first person on the carpet 😭😭 ??? you haven't even seen all of the other outfits ⤷ userfour yeah but it's lewis hamilton so does that really matter? ⤷ userfive you know...you got a point there

usersix good golly gee i really do love this man ⤷ userseven GOLLY GEE 😭😭???? ⤷ usereight IM CRYING GOLLY GEE ⤷ usernine HOW OLD ARE YOU LMFAOOOO

userten when is y/n pulling up?? ⤷ usereleven was he even invited? ⤷ userten man do i hope so. that man is the most gorgeous man i've ever laid my eyes on, apart from lewis hamilton.

liked by f1, bradpitt, charles_leclerc, and others tagged: yourusername

vogue y/n l/n stuns at the met gala.

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usertwelve OH WOW YEAH HE ATE THAT UP

userthirteen did you see him roll up in a fucking f1 car???? like the pr for this movie is actually insane ⤷ userfourteen wicked might have a contender for most insane movie pr ⤷ userfifteen nah i saw wicked mac n cheese, who needs wicked shaped mac n cheese ⤷ usersixteen don't even get me started on the wicked alcohol. promoting drinking to a primarily underage audience? i support her, but this isn't okay ⤷ userthirteen i'm 22 and i'm SCARED

userseventeen god this man is FOINEEEEE

usereighteen put me, y/n l/n, and lewis hamilton in a room and we won't be leaving for hours. and when we do, it won't be pretty. ⤷ usernineteen whats it finna play...WOAH

usertwenty god i love y/n l/n. i'm glad that he's finally getting the recognition he deserves!!

"HAD QUITE AN ENTRANCE THERE," an interviewer laughed as y/n l/n walked up to him with a smile. The interviewer had a VOGUE branded microphone, and he was dressed well for the gala as well, but he was just in a black tux.

Y/n laughed, “Yeah well, when PR tells you to do a fun entrance in a Formula 1 car, you have to accept.” He was taller than the interviewer, so y/n bent his neck and lowered his head so he could hear him talk.

“And I would’ve as well,” he laughed. “So, y/n, tell me about this suit,” the interviewer stepped back a step and the camera panned down to scroll up and over the red suit that y/n wore.

With a pointed finger, y/n gestured to all of the small details in his outfit that not only meant a lot to him, but also referenced the theme of this years gala—Black Dandyism. It was a beautiful style and y/n remembers the excitement that coursed through him when he heard that he’d been invited this year.

“It’s just a beautiful theme and a beautiful suit, as well,” the interviewer smiled up at y/n. “But, I must ask, since you arrived quite early, whose outfit are you most excited to see tonight?”

“I’ve already seen my favorite, and the one I was most excited for,” y/n turned around and his eyes immediately caught onto Lewis Hamilton’s figure, clad in the beautifully made cream suit. “Lewis Hamilton is by far one of the best dressed ones here outside of the MET, so I was really excited to see what he cooked up with Louis Vuitton.”

As if Lewis heard him, he turned towards y/n. A smile broke out on his face as his eyes caught onto y/n’s.

The world fell away from the two—the camera flashes turned into shining stars as the blue carpet, walls, and ceiling turned into the night sky. It was very much La La Land-esk as everything around them faded away and they ended up in space.

Y/n smiled and his eyes softened at Lewis, which caused the man to start to walk over to the interview. That cut off their quick connection, and Lewis let a hand rest on y/n’s waist when he came up beside him.

“I heard my name, handsome?” Lewis grinned and nodded at the interviewer as he spared a glance over at y/n.

The height difference was quite comedic and noticeable—there was no way that Twitter (or X if you’re with the times) wasn’t already freaking out over the movie star and F1 driver being so close together again. When the F1 movie was still filming, and Lewis Hamilton was on the set, helping the actors perfect what being in an F1 car was actually like, there were pictures that went around of y/n and Lewis being quite close—much like they are now.

The interviewer raised an eyebrow.

Y/n laughed and shook his head, “You are so annoying, Lew.” Yet, y/n slid a hand behind Lewis and let it fall on the small of his back. At this, Lewis let his hand drop and it raised up to his stomach, stepping back into his favorite pose—the one Twitter lovingly called his ‘pregnant mom pose’.

The shift was seamless, and honestly hard to notice. It was like it was second nature to the duo, and had been done before.

“You two are quite close, no?” The interviewer asked, but he backtracked when he realized that question could be taken the wrong way. “Like on the F1 movie set, pictures went around of you two standing close to each other, and then now, y/n, you have your arm on Lewis’s waist. Is there a story to that?”

Y/n and Lewis glanced at each other and laughed quietly. “Movie sets are where the magic happens, right?” Y/n asked with a smile.

The interviewer went to say more, but representatives for both Lewis and y/n pushed them away, hurling apologies towards the interviewer, but he didn’t care all that much. Vogue just got a story and a beautiful piece idea.

“OH, FUCK,” y/n laughed as he tripped over his own shoe. He looked behind him and, not so, gracefully stepped over the other shoes on the hotel room floor that were in his path. “Jesus, Lew, how many shoes do you have?” He stepped on a black shoe, one with a taller hell than the others.

Lewis laughed as he pushed y/n out of his way so he could walk into the hotel room, the door shutting closed behind them. They shut the world out behind them, leaving just the two of them in the hotel room, only the two of them in on their secret.

"I have enough," Lewis smiled as he started to pull off the black outfit that he had put on for the MET afterparty that he dragged y/n to. "You just have one pair, and that's crazy to me," Lewis tsk'd and shook his head as he glanced over at y/n, who was now laying on the bed on his back. His right arm covered his eyes and his chest rose slowly.

Pausing what he was doing, Lewis walked up to the bed and pulled on y/n arms, causing a whine to escape y/n's throat.

"Nope, come on, love," Lewis hummed as he pulled y/n up so he was sitting up on the bed. His eyes remained closed and his posture was bent like a candy cane as he swayed, threatening to fall back onto the bed again. "You can't sleep in this beautiful suit, you need to change out of it," Lewis's voice was soft as he started to help y/n out of his red suit.

As the jacket started to slide off his arms, y/n opened his eyes and looked up at Lewis, which wasn't a common thing for him, seeing as he was taller than Lewis despite being younger.

"Hmm," y/n hummed as he started to help Lewis slowly take off his suit. Soon enough, y/n was sitting on the edge of the bed in his pajamas, which consisted of a comedic t-shirt with Lewis's face all over it and a pair of sweatshorts.

Lewis walked into the bathroom, but came back just as quick. He held something in his hand, something small but held years of history. He gestured for y/n to hand him his left hand.

"Here you go, Mr. Hamilton," Lewis chuckled as he slid on the ring onto y/n's left ring finger. It was a simple band―gold with small diamonds littered about, but the inside had their wedding date engraved, along with LH. Lewis slid on his own ring, which was similar to y/n's, but his was silver and had Y/I on the inside instead.

"Thank you, Mr. L/n," y/n hummed and he pulled Lewis down into a kiss, a soft and loving one that had both of them sighing.

Their fingers were heavy with their rings, heavy with responsibility and love.

Before they went to sleep that night, they faced each other in bed. Lewis's eyes traveled over y/n's face. He glanced over at the clock on the nightstand, the time blinking back at him in red.

12:00.

"Happy anniversary, lover," Lewis hummed and he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on y/n's mouth.

"Happy anniversary, Lew."

liked by scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc, yourusername, and others tagged: yourusername

lewishamilton happy 3 years, lover.

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📌 pinned comment! youruser easiest yes i've ever said. happy three years ❤️ ⤷ lewishamilton i love you, mr. hamilton. ⤷ yourusername i love you more, mr. l/n.

charles_leclerc so proud of you two! worst secret i've ever had to keep, glad you trusted me with it for the past 3 years ❤️ ⤷ lewishamilton glad we could trust you with it, charles.

usertwentyone WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.

usertwentytwo WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON IN THE HOUSE OF COMMONS WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHATS IS FINNA PLAY WOAHHHH HELLO WHATS GOING ON

usertwentythree HWUAHFOAISJEFOIAJSF WHATISHOFIJ MY GOAT IS GAY ????/??????????///????????

georgerussell glad nobody in the comments overreacted...so proud of you two! we miss you in the mercedes garage, y/n 💔 ⤷ yourusername might have to pay toto wolff a little visit...miss you guys as well. thank you so much, george ❤️ ⤷ lewishamilton moving past that...thank you much george.

scuderiaferrari our royal wedding 🥺🥺 ⤷ yourusername love you so much ferrari admin ❤️

usertwentyfour I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO RESPOND TO THIS WHAT IS GOING ON GUYS IS IT APRIL FOOLS TOGAY IM SO CUFING CONFUSED HELP ⤷ usertwentyfive GIRL IM WITH YOU WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON

usertwentysix OAIWEJOAFNCSDKCN LEWIS FUCKIG HAMILTON IS FUCKING Y/N L/N ⤷ yourusername who said that? ⤷ lewishamilton babe. ⤷ usertwentysix WHAT THE FUCKIS MY FUCKING LIFE

liked by georgerussell, nicorosberg, charles_leclerc, and others tagged: lewishamilton

yourusername this may come as a shock to some of you, but i am a married man (and have been for 3 years)! 5 years ago, i met lewis hamilton at the silverstone grandprix, and fell in love. 2 years later, he asked me to marry him, and here we are 3 years later sharing it with the world.

we were hesitant to share our love at first, seeing as formula 1 is a very toxic masculinity fueled sport, but we're tired of hiding our wedding rings and not being able to talk about each other in interviews.

happy three years, mr. l/n. here's to many more 🥂!!

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📌 pinned comment! lewishamilton it was love at first sight, love. ⤷ yourusername ah you make me blush, lover man.

charles_leclerc ferrari signed two hamilton's this year. love having you in the garage, y/n! you two are too cute for me to handle. ⤷ yourusername omfg charles i love you so much. you are so cute, my little child. ⤷ charles_leclerc child????? ⤷ yourusername surprise you're my child now

usertwentyseven HOLY FUCKING SHIT I LOVE YOU TWO SO MUCH YOU'RE A SUCH A BIG INSPIRATION WOWWW THE 7 TIME WDC GOAT IS GAY CUT THE CHECK REPUBLICANS ⤷ usertwentyeight CUT! THE! FUCKING! CHECK!

usertwentynine WOWWWWWWW THIS WAS NOT ON MY 2025 BINGO CARDDD

georgerussell insanely proud of you two (like i said before)! love the both of you two papa y papa ⤷ yourusername you had to make it weird. thank you george, we love you too.

scuderiaferrari does this mean 'f1 movie actor & lewis hamilton's partner' is your new title to skysports 🙏🙏🙏 ⤷ yourusername add in 'ferrari's biggest fan' and then yes

a/n: hope you guys liked this, cause i loved making it!!!

tags: @milessunflowers @lokisen @kevinlolwife @op-81-lvr-reblogs @kazanskied @481rosier @raizelchrysanderoctavius @mountainshuman

[hyunjincanraptoo]

Piece of you- L.MN

SURPRISE!! Today is a triple special day for me, so let's get started

First of all, it's my babygirl @sweetlifeofjoy 's bday!! Happy birthday, Nari! I hope you have a wonderful day, surrounded by those you love and I wish a lot of happiness 😊 And thanks for making my day a lot funnier whenever we talk... or flirt haha

Now, the second thing I wanna celebrate, it's Minho's debut on this blog yay! I tried to make something very Lee Know coded here, I guess it's giving off his vibes. I hope you all like it

And last but not least, I want to celebrate the 700 of us. I didn't even have time to thank you for 600 so consider that a combo. I am really really grateful for each one of you. Really. You make my little heart very happy 💜🤭

Word count: 1.0k

No warnings

Alexa, play Ink by Coldplay

Minho had been gone less than a day when you found the first note.

It was tucked beneath your toothbrush, folded into a tiny triangle with a doodle on the front— a cat  version of him, with exaggerated pouty lips and two big bright eyes that he asked Hyunjin to sketch. Underneath, in his unmistakable handwriting, it said:

“Miss me yet?”

You laughed, even if your chest ached a little. Opening it, you could listen to his voice in the ink.

“Brush your teeth, sleepyhead. I’m not there to kiss you good morning, but I still expect fresh breath when I call”.

You stood there for a long moment, grinning down at the paper, toothbrush forgotten.

The next one showed up that afternoon, in the hoodie you stole from his wardrobe. You slipped your hand into the front pocket and felt it— another folded piece of paper. This one had small hearts all over it and a simple message:

“Wear this one often. It smells like me. I gave it a final hug before I left. You're welcome”

You giggled, hugging the hoodie tighter.

Minho had always been the quiet type when it came to words, more teasing than tender, but it felt like he had left tiny pieces of himself all over the apartment just to keep you company.

Every day you found a new one. One was taped to the coffee jar:

“Drink water too. No, coffee doesn’t count. Neither does bubble tea. I'm watching you”

Another slid out from between your laptop screen and keyboard:

“Take breaks. Don’t sit there for six hours straight or I will find out”

And then there was the one beneath his favorite mug:

“Play our playlist. Skip the sad ones unless you’re missing me a lot. If you do listen to them, please don’t cry while holding my mug. It’s bad for the aesthetic”.

They were scattered everywhere— beneath your pillow, taped to the ice cream lid in the freezer, inside the pages of your current book. Each one perfectly timed, each one so Minho. 

One, though, made you stop in your tracks and cackle like a hyena. It was taped to the front of the air fryer, written in red ink:

“I SWEAR TO GOD if you break my air fryer while I’m gone, I will haunt you. Not gently. I’m talking about flickering lights and mysterious cat hair in your cereal”

And then, like the cherry on top, a tiny postscript:

“(Miss you though. Please eat something that isn’t chips)”

You shook your head, grinning like an idiot. Only Lee Minho could threaten you with ghostly vengeance and still make your heart flutter.

Another note had been left on the windowsill where the cats loved to take a nap. This one was softer, written with a little paw print doodle in the back:

“Tell Soonie he’s in charge. Doongie gets extra head kisses. And Dori… can’t be trusted, so watch him”

“If they look at you dramatically and cry like they’re starving, remember: they are liars. Do not fall for it. But also… maybe give them a snack anyway”

“If they sit on your lap, don’t you dare move. I don’t care if your leg goes numb. That’s the price of love”

“PS: If you fall asleep with them like that… just know I’m gonna be insanely jealous. But also please take a picture so I can melt over it for five minutes and then pretend I’m not crying in the tour van”

You were crying laughing by the end of that one.

Each note was like a breadcrumb trail leading you right back to him, even while he was miles away.

But the note that made you sit down and press a hand to your chest, was under his pillow.

You only found it on the third day. You weren’t even looking, you were just making the bed out of habit, and there it was— thicker than the rest.

You sat on the bed and unfolded it slowly, heart stuttering.

“This one’s for the nights that feel heavy”

“You don’t have to be okay just because I’m not there to see it. I know you’re strong, but I also know you. So cry if you need to. Eat ice cream for dinner. Watch that movie we’ve seen a hundred times”

“Then call me in the morning. I’ll listen to every word. You don’t have to do this alone. You never have to”

By the time Minho called you that night, the notes were lined up across the wall, like a paper mosaic. 

He appeared on your phone screen, hair damp from shower

 “Wow”, he said when he saw the background, “I didn’t think you’d actually keep them”

You rolled your eyes, pulling the hoodie tighter around you. “Shut up, you wrote them! You thought I’d read them and toss them in the trash?”

“I mean, yeah”, he said, “That’s what you do with my texts”

“I react with a heart to them!”

Minho looked at you, inexpressible

“You reacted with a heart to ‘did you eat?’ like it was a love confession”

You bit back a grin, “Wasn’t it?”

He paused, pretending to think, then nodded. “Well, you are right. I’m very romantic”

You laugh softly before confessing, “Damn, I miss you”

“Yeah”, he said, rubbing the towel over his hair, “If I were you, I’d miss me too”.

You let out a loud, theatrical gasp and flopped dramatically back onto the bed like you’d just been betrayed.

“I can’t believe this! I’m dating a menace. An actual menace”

He blinked at the screen, “You’re so dramatic”

“You’re not even pretending to miss me!”

Minho shook his head in disbelief, “You’re wearing my hoodie, laying on my pillow, surrounded by my notes and you’re gonna sit there and act like I don’t miss you?”

You were still pouting

He rolled his eyes

“I miss you so much it's annoying” he said, “Happy now?”

“No! You said it was annoying!”

“Because I’m annoyed at myself, he grumbled, “For being this whipped”

You grinned.

“Say it again”

“No”

“Say it!”

Minho sighed like he felt physical pain

“I miss you”, he muttered, “More than the cats. But don't tell them that”

You melted instantly.

“See?” You are romantic indeed”

He huffed, but his smile lasted— warm, bright and entirely yours.

If you enjoyed it please consider liking and reblogging. Feedbacks, loves notes and requests are very much appreciated 😊

Taglist: @hyyunjinnn , @jehhskz , @mbioooo0000 , @nightmarenyxx , @rozsdascsaptelep , @thatonegirlonhere , @notmedina127, @sweetlifeofjoy , @jeonginsleftcheek , @yelhsaa, @my-neurodivergent-world , @hyunles , @lexlikesbts , @imagine-all-the-imagines , @mysterysold , @teenagepeterpan , @hangonhyunjin

[vamperrvert]

is there a single touchstarved fan out there💔

[papayainsectorone]

teach me on the other side of the world

════════════════════════

summary: oscar is off racing somewhere in the world, but finds himself in the same situtation of quirming at your words again

content: 18+! smut, nsfw FaceTime sex, masturbation, praise kink, mutual pining, suggestive texting, desperate!Oscar, post-race tension, playful domination, light dom/sub dynamics, mild teasing, dirty talk, slow burn payoff

word count: 2,7 k

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

a thought: this is my first time trying a little smau situation and i quite liked it, also this part is not as long as the others but that man needs a break (somehow) lol

part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4

════════════════════════

You’ve kept in touch since he left not just polite check-ins, but real conversation. Long threads of messages, soft voice notes exchanged when the timing aligned, and the occasional late-night call that left you both smiling into your pillows.

When he was away again for the next races, you watched him on TV. Eyes glued to the screen, heart stuttering when they cut to him adjusting his gloves, eyes dark and focused beneath his visor. You could almost feel the energy he carried, the calm precision with that edge of something more.

Later that evening, just after the podium ceremony, you send another message

His typing bubble appears. Then disappears. Then again. Then gone.

You stare at the screen, waiting, a little amused, a little smug. But instead of a reply, your phone lights up with an incoming FaceTime call.

You answer without hesitation, already grinning and there he is. Flushed cheeks, tousled hair, breath just slightly uneven, and that wrecked sort of look in his eyes like you’ve completely undone him from half a world away.

You giggle. “What are you doing?”

Oscar groans softly, dragging a hand through his hair. “What are you doing to me.”

Your smile grows. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You raise a brow at the way he’s shifting like he can’t get comfortable, like every part of him is on edge. “You’re in the driver’s room? Not at the hotel already… what are you doing?” you ask softly, already knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it.

Oscar swipes a hand through his hair, cheeks a full, telltale pink now. “Trying not to lose my fucking mind.”

You grin. “Why’s that?”

He glares at you, but there’s no heat in it. Just desperation. “You know why. Jesus.”

You lean back slightly, resting your chin in your palm as you watch him squirm. “Oh, I know. Maybe tell me anyway.”

“Fuck,” he groans again, dragging the word out. “You’re unreal. I’m—God, I’ve got engineers like twenty meters away and I’m sitting here trying to act normal while you’re saying the filthiest shit to me through a phone.”

You smile sweetly. “I haven’t even started, baby.”

He shudders, hand flexing in his lap. “Don’t. I’m serious.”

“You don’t sound very serious.”

“I can’t stand up right now,” he mutters like it’s a confession, gaze flicking down, then back up at you. “And it’s your fault.”

You pout dramatically. “Aww. Poor baby.”

“Stop it.” His voice cracks, and he covers his face for a second.

“You love it.”

He pulls his hand down, eyes hot now. “Yeah. I fucking do.”

There's a pause—quiet but loaded—then he shifts again, thighs visibly tense, and exhales sharply. “You’re gonna kill me.”

You tilt your head, voice dropping just a bit more. “Only if you let me.”

He groans, and it’s low, throaty, utterly unguarded. “Fuck. Stop talking. Please.”

You just smile.

You let the silence linger for a beat, watching the way his breath hitches through the screen, the faint rustle of fabric as he shifts in his seat.

Then, slowly, deliberately, you say, “You know what I was thinking about while you were racing today?”

He looks like he might combust. “Don’t—”

You cut him off, voice soft and syrupy. “The way your mouth felt on me. How focused you were. Like you were trying to win me, not a race.”

His hand grips the edge of the seat now, knuckles white. “Baby—”

“And how when you finished, you looked so proud,” you murmur, letting each word drip. “Like you just set a personal best.”

Oscar closes his eyes, tilts his head back against the wall with a sharp exhale. “Holy fuck.”

“Bet you’d break your own record if you were here right now.”

His eyes snap open again, dazed and dark. “You have got to stop.”

“You say that,” you hum, “but your hand hasn’t moved from your lap once.”

He doesn’t answer just groans again, deeper now, and drags his hand over his face like he’s trying to scrub away the urge. When he lowers it again, his eyes are glassy. “I’m gonna lose my job.”

You laugh softly. “Only if they catch you.”

He leans in closer, jaw clenched. “You’d be the death of me. You know that?”

You smile, slow and dangerous. “Then die a happy man.”

He lets out a breathless, strangled sound, and you can practically feel the tension buzzing through the screen. “I need—fuck. I need you.”

That stirs something low in your belly, but you keep your voice light. “Mm. I know.”

Oscar blinks at you, totally wrecked. “This is so unfair.”

You soften your voice, just slightly, still playful but laced with something darker. “Then close your eyes, baby.”

He swallows hard, lips parted, gaze flicking between your face and the faint outline of his own reflection on the screen. “What?”

“Close them,” you repeat gently. “And pretend it’s me.”

His breath catches, but he obeys, lashes fluttering down, jaw tense.

“Think about my hands on you. The way I sounded when you made me fall apart last time,” you say, slow and deliberate, letting the memory stretch between you.

He exhales shakily, knuckles flexing. You keep going, voice soft but firm.

“Undo your pants, nice and slow. Just enough to feel it. Imagine it's my fingers instead of yours.”

A groan slips from him, quiet and desperate.

You hum, smile curling. “Good. Now don’t move yet. Just let your hand sit there. Feel how hard you are. For me.”

His hips twitch, and he presses his lips together in a failed attempt to stay quiet.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” you murmur. “Tell me how it feels.”

His voice is barely more than a breath. “So—fuck, it’s—”

You smile, heart racing, entirely in control now. “That’s it. Just like that.”

His hand shifts, just slightly, and you catch the hitch in his breath. “You didn’t tell me I could move,” he whispers, teasing but barely holding it together.

“Oh, you want permission now?” You tilt your head, savoring this.

He grins, flushed and flustered, but you can see it how badly he wants you. How worked up he already is from just your voice, your words.

“You’ve got no idea what you do to me,” he murmurs.

“I think I do,” you say, just above a whisper. “You’re hard and aching and trying to be good, just like I like.”

He curses again, softly, biting his lip.

You shift a little on your end, just enough to let the hem of your sleep shirt ride up. You’ve been aching, too—have been since the second you saw his flushed face light up your screen.

He doesn't notice at first. Not until your breath hitches.

His eyes flick up, sharper now. “Wait—are you…”

You smile, slow and wicked. “What do you think, baby?”

He swears under his breath, eyes darting down as if he could see through the phone.

“I can hear you,” he murmurs, voice almost reverent. “Those little sounds.”

You hum softly, fingertips ghosting between your thighs, just enough to make yourself gasp. “All for you.”

His mouth drops open slightly, breathing ragged again. “Fuck. Don’t stop.”

You don’t plan to.

“I’m touching myself,” you whisper, letting the words wrap around him like silk. “Thinking about how you sounded when you begged last time. How your mouth felt when you made me come.”

Oscar’s jaw clenches like he’s in pain, his hand twitching again, still resting in his lap.

“Still gonna be a good boy for me?” you ask sweetly, just as you press a little harder against yourself.

He nods, fast and breathless, lips parted. “Y-Yeah. I’m trying.”

You moan, soft and needy, and that’s all it takes—he jolts, like the sound shot straight through him.

“Jesus Christ,” he chokes. “That noise—fuck, that’s not fair.”

“I told you,” you murmur, circling slow. “You’re not the only one suffering.”

He groans again, that same low, desperate sound from earlier. “You’re gonna break me.”

“Then break, baby,” you whisper. “I’m right there with you.”

“Okay,” you murmur. “Now you can move.”

The tiniest movement of his hand and he shudders, face tipping up toward the ceiling. “Fuck—”

“Slow, baby,” you remind him, gentle but commanding. “You’ve got to earn it.”

“Earn it?” he pants, glancing back at you through heavy lashes.

“Mhm. Think about my mouth. The way I’d look up at you, tongue out, eyes begging. You’d be so good for me, wouldn’t you?”

He nods without thinking, then chokes out, “Yes. Fuck, yes.”

“Good boy,” you purr, and his hips twitch again at the praise.

You watch him fall apart in slow motion, breath ragged, pleasure written all over him.

“Just like that,” you whisper. “That’s it. Let me see how pretty you are when you come.”

His breath catches—shaky, shallow—and you know he’s close.

You see it in the way his eyes lose focus, how his hand trembles slightly just out of frame. His breath comes in short, desperate gasps, and then—

“Oscar,” you murmur, just as your own voice cracks around a moan.

He lets out a low, broken sound, hips stuttering once, twice, before he falls apart with a groan so raw and wrecked it makes your stomach flutter. His body jerks forward slightly, face twisting in pleasure as he spills over his hand and stomach, chest heaving, pupils blown wide.

And it’s that, the way his voice fractures, the sharp, helpless grunt that punches from his chest as he gives in, that does it.

Your breath catches on a whimper, body tightening as the pleasure crests sharply inside you. You press your fingers down just right, and then you're spiraling, back arching, hips trembling. You bite down on his name as it escapes, raw and breathless, your own high crashing through you in waves that steal the air from your lungs.

He hears it — that final, broken moan — and his eyes fly open, dazed and shining, locking on your screen just in time to watch your face twist in bliss, to hear the wet, desperate sounds of your release.

“Holy fuck,” he breathes, completely undone all over again, like your orgasm just knocked the wind out of him.

You ride the wave out slowly, body twitching, breathing hard, trying to pull yourself back into your skin. The phone wobbles slightly where it’s propped up, catching just enough of your aftershocks — the way your hand lingers between your thighs, your chest rising and falling in ragged swells.

Silence settles, heavy and warm, the kind that only comes after you’ve given someone every inch of yourself and they’ve done the same.

You finally glance at the screen again, cheeks flushed, lips parted. “Hi.”

Oscar stares at you like you just pulled the stars from the sky.

Your grin is slow, amused. “Well, that was a performance.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re gonna kill me one day. Actually kill me.”

You giggle. “Messy boy.”

His face burns brighter. “You’re so mean.”

“You like it.”

He shakes his head but can’t stop smiling. “I really do.”

You tilt your head, voice going soft. “You okay?”

He nods, still catching his breath. “Yeah. That was… yeah.”

“You’re kinda glowing, babe.”

He huffs out a laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shut up.”

“Aww, no. Don’t get all shy now,” you tease gently. “You just came so hard for me. Made a mess.”

He groans again, hiding his face in his elbow, but there’s no real protest behind it.

“Next time,” you say with a wink. “In person.”

His head drops back onto the chair with a sigh, and this time his smile is soft. “Can’t wait.”

You settle into the quiet with him for a moment, watching his flushed, sleepy face on the screen. There’s something sweet in the silence, like a held breath after something beautiful.

Then, gently, you ask, “So… what are you up to tonight?”

Oscar blinks a few times, still catching up to the question. “Uh—right, yeah. Debrief in a bit. Gotta go over tire degradation, strategy calls, sector times—Carlos was mega in Sector 2, but I think we missed something on the outlap. And my entry into Turn 10 felt okay, but the data shows I was still hesitating. Might just be setup, but I’ve got a theory…”

His words pick up speed as he talks, eyes sharpening with that unmistakable focus. He sits up straighter, hands gesturing as he gets more into it, completely unaware of the way you’re watching him — the way your chest swells at how much he cares, how deeply he thinks it all through.

“I love how passionate you get about this,” you say softly, cutting in before he can spiral into corner analysis.

Oscar stops. His eyes flick to the screen again, his mouth quirking into a crooked, bashful grin. “Yeah?”

You nod. “It’s really hot.”

He laughs — short and surprised — then ducks his head, trying to hide how much it means to him.

And neither of you hang up for a while — the conversation drifting from strategy to weekend plans to nothing at all, just breathing in each other’s presence across the screen, the way people do when the feeling is too good to leave.

[captainpriceslilwife]

pt. 2 of the well-loved gaz x insecure!reader post!! (This is kind of a bridge to pt. 3, so bear with me PLEASE! I have more ideas for the next part, but I needed to get there first lol...hopefully this is good idk im nervous abt my newfound audience)

The rest of his night passed in a daze. He couldn’t stop stealing glances at the tiny little picture on your license while Johnny and Simon argued with each other about what he should do to try to win you back - but he could barely hear a word they were saying as he wiped away the sticky-sweet drink that was still dripping down his face.

“Ah’d give her a second ta calm down, ya ken? Go in the mornin’ and give her a chance to find her head.” 

“Showin' up at her place unannounced after hanging onto her shit all nigh'? Yeah, that’d leave a good impression, wouldn’ it? No wonder you can’t get a bird, Johnny. Scarin’ ‘em all off.” 

“Ach, ye’d know what tha’s like, wouldn’ ye? Spooky fuckin’ bastard. Ah bet women run the second they see tha' stupid fuckin' mask-” 

"Whatever. Gaz, just give it to the bartender, yeah? Clearly she doesn't like ya'. She'll come back for it."

In the end, he ends up taking Johnny’s advice and decides to return your wallet in the morning – which maybe wasn't his smartest move. Especially since now he doesn’t have a lick of alcohol flowing through his system to calm him down as he walks along the sidewalk towards your place. He’s sure he looks crazy to everyone he passes – muttering to himself to try to coach himself through what he’ll say to you. 

“Hey! Nah, uh…hello, how are you? No, I- fuck…” He shakes his head as he looks down at your wallet, twiddling the zipper between his fingers as he mumbles under his breath. “Hi, I’m Kyle…I’m the one who, um…who made you...cry last night. Ah, shit.” 

He's never felt this way about a girl before - like a nervous, stuttering schoolboy. His heart feels like it's going to beat out of his chest, and he can feel the sweat beading on the back of his neck when he suddenly finds himself standing in front of your door.

You've got a sweet little welcome mat - covered in sunflowers and loopy letters - and he notices all the pots filled with plants and flowers that scatter around near your door. God, he's already thinking that you're the most precious thing in the world.

He doesn't know what it is about you that's affecting him so much. Is it because you rejected him? Is it a challenge to him? Does he just feel guilty? Or maybe it's because, for the first time ever, he's gone after a girl that he actually has to figure out. Women have always thrown themselves at him the moment he flashed a smile their way. But you...all you did was throw a drink in his face.

It takes him nearly a full minute before he finally knocks on your door, and he can't seem to figure out what to do with his hands as he waits for the sound of your soft, thudding footsteps to reach the door.

You're still puffy from crying yourself to sleep last night, but you open the door with a polite smile anyway - donned in your oversized cat pajamas without an ounce of makeup on - but your smile quickly falls when you recognize the man standing on your doorstep.

The unfortunately beautiful man who had woken up every insecurity you had in less than a minute of talking to you.

Your expression seems to cycle through a million emotions as you try to comprehend how he could possibly be here, but once you notice the teal wallet clutched in his hand, realization settles on your features as the embarrassment hits you.

He stands silent for a moment as he takes in how gorgeous you are despite your slightly disheveled appearance, and he can barely form a sentence as he lifts up your wallet with a sheepish smile. "You, uh…you left this at the bar, um…last night. Got your address from your, uh...your I.D.” Christ, he's lost all sense of charisma hasn't he? He holds onto the wallet for a horrifyingly awkward amount of time as he stares blankly at you, but he finally comes to his senses when you mumble out a quiet 'oh, thanks' and reach out to take it.

“I’m Kyle, by the way.” 

He's never seen a girl look at him with such guardedness before - with your arms crossed protectively over your chest as you give him a tense smile. He can't tell if it's because of the whole incident from the night before, or if you're just freaked out that a total stranger went through all the effort to bring your wallet directly to where you live.

Probably both.

You clearly return his greeting just to be polite, murmuring your name quietly as you place your wallet off to the side.

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He lets out an awkward laugh, but quickly backtracks when you shoot him a funny look. “I mean, from your license! I-It’s got your name on it. I only know it because it's...it's on the license.” He stutters out quickly as he shoves his hands into his pockets. God, he's losing it. His heart feels like it's going to explode. “I, um…it’s a gorgeous name, by the way. Suits you, you know?” 

The compliment slips out naturally, but it only makes you tense up even more, and you suck in a tight breath as you begin to shift on your feet. Your fingers are itching to reach for the door to slam it in his face - arrogant prick thinking he can keep up his act from last night even though he practically sent you into a fit - but he interrupts your spiraling thoughts with a heavy sigh as he drops his charming smile.

“Hey, I...I just really wanted to say that I'm sorry, love. I didn’t mean to upset you like that last night.” His demeanor changes so drastically that you can't help but soften a bit, melting underneath his warm, pleading eyes enough to listen to him. "I think we had a bit of a misunderstanding...I wasn't making fun of you, love. Honest."

He seems so genuine about it that you can't help but feel a bit guilty. You had tossed and turned all night thinking about how shocked he had looked after your little outburst. You tried to stave of your regret by telling yourself that he had come over to you only to make fun of you like everyone else does, so technically he deserved it - but now you weren't so sure.

“Oh, well…I’m sorry for, you know…throwing my drink in your face.” You murmur sheepishly as you look down at your welcome mat - tracing one of the flowers with your fuzzy slipper before tilting your head back up to look at him with burning cheeks. “Wasn’t very mature of me."

“No, no, no...it's fine, really! If anything, I'm sorry you had to waste your drink on me. I mean, I know how pricey that place can get.” He lets out another laugh, but it's a bit less tense this time, especially when he sees the way your lips almost quirk up into a smile. It makes him feel bold enough to try to bring back the charm, and he can't stop himself from asking you, “You know…maybe I could, um…make it up to you sometime? Could buy you another drink?” 

But once again, you pause. His persistence only makes you more suspicious of his motives, and it shows in how you tighten your arms across your chest. He can see your eyes flash with a pang of hurt, and he feels his heart clench as he fumbles over himself, growing less sure by the second. “O-Or just a coffee, maybe?” 

“...Look, Kyle…” His heart leaps in his chest at the sound of his name on your lips, but your guarded tone is enough to smother the warm, fluttery feeling that had been building in his stomach. “Thanks for bringing me my wallet, but you’re wasting your time. I don’t know what kind of bet you have going with your friends, but I’m not going to fall for it, okay? I'm not...I'm not stupid.” 

Stupid? His expression falls once more, and he gives you the most genuine look he can muster as he speaks up quietly. “I...I don't think you're stupid. There’s no bet, love. Honest.”

“A dare, then.” 

“No dare, either.” 

You let out a frustrated sigh and roll your eyes a bit before resting your hand on your hip, but your irritated demeanor doesn't hide the way your eyes are beginning to grow a bit watery and bloodshot as you murmur quietly. “Well, why are you doing this, then?” 

His eyebrows furrow as he looks down on you, and he can't help but shake his head in disbelief as he takes a small step towards you. God, you were absolutely breaking his heart. Did you really think it was that unbelievable that he could like you? “I already told you, love. I think you’re absolutely gorgeous…and I know you don’t seem to like hearing that, but it’s true. And I know you're not just a pretty face, I just...I don't know anything else about you. But I'd like to...I'd like to get to know you.” 

You don't seem moved by his words, but he can't see how your heart begins to pound wildly in your chest, grasping onto the small bit of hope that you had desperately tried to push down. You'd spent so long trying to protect yourself from feeling this way about someone, and he's already managing to sneak past those walls you had built up.

But your mind keeps replaying every moment of disappointment you felt when it came to men 'asking you out' - how people would laugh behind your back when you would get excited for a date with a guy they all knew was just messing with you, or how a boy in your class straight-up laughed in your face when you thought he was being serious about being his date to the prom. 'Shit, she actually fell for it! Damn, I didn't think she'd have the nerve to say yes! Ah, right, well...sorry love...just havin' a bit of a laugh, yeah? All in good fun.'

No, no, no...you couldn't fall for something like this again.

He can see the look in your eyes as you stay silent, and his heart pangs with guilt when he realizes how much he's probably torturing you. He decides to put you out of your misery, so before you can open your mouth to reject him again, he raises his hand to stop you. "Yeah, alright...I understand." A pathetic smile graces his features, and you can't help but feel a bit guilty at the look of disappointment on his handsome face. "Can't blame a guy for trying though, aye?"

You can't even tell if you're disappointed or relieved that he's finally given up, but you give him a grateful smile as you nod your head in understanding. Couldn't expect a guy that looks like that to put in too much effort with someone like you, right? "Right...yeah...thank for um, understanding."

"Of course..."

God, this is awkward.

The both of you stand and stare at each other for another moment longer before he turns to leave. But just as he turns to go, he stops in his tracks and thinks to himself for a second before letting out a puff of air before turning back to you. "Don't happen to have a pen, do you, love?"

You blink in surpise at the randomness of his question, but eventually nod your head and disappear for just a second before returning with one in hand.

If only you could see how nervously he tapped his fingers against the side his leg while he waited for you to come back - a habit he only ever indulged in when he couldn't contain his anxiety on missions. Something his captain always ragged on him for.

Yeah, he was absolutely hung up on you.

He tries to ignore how soft your hand is when he takes the pen from you, but he can't ignore the way your touch zaps up through his arm and straight to his heart. And from the way you tuck your arm back against your chest with hot cheeks, he can't help but wonder if you felt it, too.

He pulls a crinkled receipt from the pocket of his jacket as he gives you a nervous smile, almost like he's waiting for you to scold him for trying again. And if it isn't the most charming thing you've ever seen... “Listen…if you change your mind-“ His hand moves quickly to scribble something on the small piece of paper, and when he hands it to you, you see his number written in handwriting that is frustratingly neat for a man in a rush. “-just let me know. No pressure, of course. I’ll fuck off if you want me to, but…just thought I’d give you the option. Don’t think I could live with myself if I didn’t at least offer to make it up to you.” 

And you take that stupid, crinkled piece of paper from his hand against your better judgement, and to your chagrin you can feel your cheeks burning brightly enough for him to see. Luckily for you, he can't see the way your heart is dancing around in your chest at the prospect of actually having a chance with him.

"Right...ok." You mumble quietly as you stare down at his number, toying at the edges of the paper with your thumb before his voice catches your attention once more.

“Well, um…I should get going. I hope you have a good day, darling.” A part of you was horrified to realize that you didn't want him to leave just yet, but you just nod your head stiffly as he backs away from your doorstep. And god he gives you that handsome, charming smile one more time before he turns on his heel and calls over his shoulder. "I hope I get to see you again."

And you wave at him so awkwardly as he walks away, like a deer caught in headlights, but it makes his heart flutter all the same. He hopes that even if he doesn't get a chance with you, someone else will realize what a catch you are. Someone who will treat you the way you deserve. Someone like him.

It's not until much later in the day - when he's stuck in a briefing and trying not to fall asleep with Price's voice droning on johnny's already drooling on the table - that his phone vibrates in his pocket. He sneaks it out underneath the table to take a quick glance to see who could be messaging him, and his heart practically leaps out of his chest when he sees an unfamiliar number.

‘ok...maybe just one coffee.’

He can't help but smile to himself as he reads it, and before he can begin to type out a response, another message pops up on his screen. And another. And another.

'i mean, only if you're still interested, of course.'

'no pressure or anything :)'

'oh, this is y/n by the way!'

Yeah, you might be the sweetest girl he's ever met.

A/N: do I like this that much??? eehhhhhhhhhh idk. but i kept going back and forth and rewriting and deleting and i finally decided to put myself out of my misery. again, i'm so so so grateful to everyone who requested a part two for this and left support on the original post so i hope this meets everyone's standards! pls feel free to leave suggestions in my inbox or in the comments if there's anything specific you want to see (or request something else entirely)! i also wouldn't mind writing any alternate parts of the story if ppl request it so pls dont hold back! pls stay with me for pt. 3!!! also sorry if you requested to be tagged and i missed you!

Tag list: @vixyyvix, @little-mini-me-world, @miyo-0oo, @milanriol, @z-wantstowrite, @nexthyperfix

[mahmahmahmysharona]

When you and Bob try to stay away from each other and fail miserably.

(Bob Reynolds x Avenger Reader) Part 4/?

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3

Over the next few weeks, you found yourself falling apart. Not enough for everyone to notice, but enough for you to feel it.

You missed him. You missed your friend. And unfortunately, now that you knew you loved him, Bob's absence hurt you.

Maybe you did something wrong. Maybe you didn't. Bob is a complicated person with a complicated past. Perhaps he just changed his mind about wanting to know you.

You found yourself staying in your room to avoid accidently coming across him (you didn't need to bother: Bob was also hiding out in his room for the same reason), and this raised questions from the others. But you shrugged them off, not wanting to spill your secrets and worries when it looked like they might not even matter anymore.

Things aren't helped by the fact that Bob was getting worse. Not that you witnessed it, but the others made sure to mention it to you. He seemed more agitated, more careful than usual. He was talking to himself again. He was jumpy, too. It scared you. You wanted him to be okay.

Finally, you could both stand to be in the same room again. But there was little eye contact, and only conversation when necessary. ("Can you pass the milk?") You hated it.

If you had more courage, you would have told him that you couldn't stand him not being around you, and how unfair it is to lose someone just when you realised you loved them.

You would happily pretend not to if it would make him come back to you.

Things came to a head one afternoon when Bucky and Walker came to blows. Walker, resorting to pointing out the flaws of other team members in order to defend himself, ended up using Bob as collateral damage, calling him "the world's worst house pet."

Bob was standing right there. Walker didn't mean it. It was a cheap shot. But Bob took it personally. You should see his his fists curl up and a sadness wash over his eyes. He slipped out of the room, unnoticed by the others in the chaos of the fight.

You were furious. Raging. If you couldn't help Bob like you used to, you could sure as hell still stick up for him. You crossed over and knocked Walker to the ground, slamming your fist into his nose.

Walker yelped, but he fought back. He always fought back — you made him promise never to go easy on you in training, so why should he now?

The fight lasted a good while, and the others even got bored and wandered off. Eventually, you both called it quits, somewhat unsure of who actually won. But you were fairly certain he got the message you were trying to send.

Afterwards, you headed back to your room, your cheek scraped and jaw bruised from the scrap. You were about to go inside when you heard a crack from across the hall. Bob.

You rushed inside his room without knocking. He was pacing the floor, rubbing his wrists together. Talking to himself. To him. Behind him, a fist-sized patch of the wall crumbled inward.

"Bob," you said, stepping forward. His fist wasn't bloody — he doesn't get injured as easily as you — but he looked shaken. When he saw you, he stepped backwards. God, it hurt you to see him look at you like that.

"Please, don't come any closer," he said. "Something's happening to me."

The tremor in his voice and the self-hatred you felt even from where you stood was enough to make you move towards him again. "You're upset, that's all," you said. "Ignore Walker, he was just heated. You were in his eyeline, and you're an easy target. He was out of line."

"Except he's not out of line," Bob said. When you reached out for him, he shifted away, suddenly alert. He told you again to stay back. It was the worst he's been in a while, and he didn’t know what would happen to you if you touched him.

"I'm here with you," you told him. It's the best you could do if he wouldn’t let you go any closer. His eyes were red with restrained tears.

He continued, "I'm the most useless person here, and even if I weren't, I'd be the most dangerous."

"I don't believe that. I don't believe it for a second."

"None of you are safe with me."

"I'm safe with you, Bob."

He looked at you. You could practically hear his heart splintering into a thousand pieces beneath his ribs. "How can you be sure?"

You once told him that if he ever got lost, you'd find him. You'd crawl through your worst memories to bring him back. He was lost now, right in front of you, and you needed him. He needed to know you trusted him, that you'd give him everything on blind faith alone, because you believed in him.

You reached out, grabbed him by the shirt, and pulled him into you. You kissed him. His body stiffened under your touch, but he didn't pull away. Your lips moved against his, trying to say a hundred things without speaking at all. I'm safe. You're safe. We're safer together.

You kissed him for god knows how long, until you needed to come up for air and you heard him choke out, "I—I don't know if I can—"

But he could. You knew he could. You took his arm and wrapped it around you, holding onto him for dear life as you did so. His hand hooked onto your shirt and grasped the fabric tightly. A lifeline. He was coming back to you, out of the darkness.

"Don't let go of me, okay?" you told him, your lips grazing his mouth again. He nodded, tightening his grip on you. You kissed him, and his time, he kissed you back. At the feeling of it, you became undone. Suddenly, it was you who needed to be held. You'd never felt like this, and it was almost too much. Between kisses, you heard yourself begging him, "Don't let go of me.”

He held you firmly, and when he pulled away to speak, his voice was calmer. He pressed his forehead against yours, lips skimming your own as he said, “I won't.”

And he didn’t. He didn’t even when you had to pull away from the kissing for good, dizzy and breathless. When you finally looked at him again, he was flushed, his nostrils flaring with loaded breaths. But he was calmer. He was back. And more importantly, he was holding you steady. Weren’t you supposed to be supporting him right now?

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. …How did you know to do that?”

“Honestly, I didn’t know if that would do anything. Worth a shot.”

He caught your eye, and before you knew it, his thumb was touching your cheek, just below the fresh grazing.

"Did you have this before?" he asked.

"I beat the shit out of Walker. I'll admit, he got some good punches in."

Finally, he laughed. Then you. When you both regained yourselves, you worked up the nerve to say something — something you’ve been wanting to say since that day in the elevator.

“Bob…” you began. “I’m not sure I can be your friend anymore.”

His first reaction was one of hurt, and it’s one you’re far too used to seeing on his face. But once he understood what you were saying, he nodded.

“I don’t think I can either.” You felt his hands tighten at your back, and he whispered, “I'm going to ruin this.”

“No, you won’t. And even if you wanted to, I wouldn’t let you.”

“How can you be sure?”

When the words landed, you both caught each other’s eyes and smiled. Right before you pulled him down to you, your lips meeting again, and the world disappearing once more.

Next time: When it’s yours and Bob’s first time…twice.

Tag list: @purplefluffycows @i-shall-abide @avengersinitiative2012

[fallingrainandburningsuns]

this one, guys, I swear, is the one that get me.

i could write a resopnse about how the gazan attacked US. kept (probably still do) Israeli hostages in their houses. came into Israel on oct 7 and killed and stole and joined the massacre. why should i feel sympathy to my attacker and all that shit.

and i know its not all of them, and i know many of them are victims of hamas. i also know they elected hamas to be their government. i know i know i know.

but this reblog is so particularly annoying because I DONT NEED TO EXPLAIN THE CONFLICT TO GAZANS. they live it. JUST LIKE I DO. just like my family does. I DONT WANT TO EXPLAIN THE CONFLICT TO YOU. to all of you online that refuse to talk about the Israeli side of it, that force me to acknowledge gazan suffering and right to their country and a thousand other disclaimers before i can say "oct 7 was fucked up and cruel and fuck everyone how participated or supported it. there are still hostages held in tunnels eating one piece of bread a day who has not seen the sun in 583 days." how in the world did you manage to hijack this post about Israeli pain and trauma to make it about gazans is beyond me. this is exactly my point. Israelis don't get to experience pain or trauma or suffering, but gazans get all the sympathy in the world. why wont you acknowledge our pain??

also, if you think israelis aren't trying to stop this war, youre ignorant. Israel had mass protest against our shitty government for the last three years, even more so since oct 7. hundreds of thousands of people gather in the street every day to call for the return of the hostages home, a ceasefire, and the quitting of our motherfucker of a prime minister.

for once in youre fucking life, listen to Israelis about this, instead of yelling at us accusations and demands. acknowledge our pain just like you can with the gazans. support our efforts to survive in the active war zone, recover from trauma and end this war just like you do for them. And most importantly, stop supporting the terrorist group that has done nothing to help gaza's citizens and is gaining from this war.

please for the love of god, accept that this a CONFLICT, with TWO SIDES, and that there are people who want peace and normalization ON BOTH SIDES, and that there people who want murder and eradication of an entire ethic group ON BOTH SIDES, and those people should be rejected by us in conversation circles because all they want is war and pain and death, and god knows that us, the people of the middle east, have had enough of that.

if you care, if you want to end this war like we do, if you are willing to accept isreali pain into the conversation, and if you want to support the israeli effort for a ceasefire and a hostage deal, please visit the website of the hostage families:

what if I, an israeli, don't feel like educating people about the conflict? what if i don't want to have to explain to you the last year and a half of grief my family, my friends, my community, went through, still going through, can't heal from until all of us are home? i don't have to justify my anger, my fear, or my resentment to you, jewish or goy. i don't need to provide a explanation before saying that people of my country are dying and my family is under missiles and my friends are enlisting to the army and I'm devastated because there was a fucking massacre. I don't want to talk about the people of gaza. I want to have the space to grieve the trgady we experienced oct. 7, to heal our people with all of our hostages home.

But we didn't get that. People were celebrating while the blood was still warm. so I am not interested in explaining myself or this conflict to you.

[lavenderchqn]

✧・| green with 'envy'

— anemo men trying out the "you're the most jealous person I know" trend with their partner. for some it feels like more than a trend.

content warnings: comedy, hurt/comfort; serious and unserious jealousy talks; a panic attack (I am so sorry Venti mains, all you do is suffer because of me); implied self-doubt/low self-esteem in some; mentions of overthinking; playful teasing;

this set of scenarios has been requested by anon!

[note.] — cover art created by @sssA_km on twitter for hoyofair 2024! and a personal writer note - from this point onwards, all scenarios created for anemo males as a group will include ifa! give it up for our first tall man.

𝐀𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

Abort the mission, abort I repeat! When he joked about you being jealous, getting it spun onto his… oversights… was not what he had in mind. Oh heavens above, somebody please save him! 

“You’re the most jealous person I know,” Aether says as he enters the room. It’s heavy, the atmosphere. His usually bright golden eyes have seemingly dulled. His arms are crossed. Nothing in his behaviour indicates he’s joking. And thus, you take it as a confrontation. 

You sigh. If being labelled as the jealous one is what it takes to finally access some of Aether’s behaviour, then so be it. At least you’ll hopefully be on the same page. “What makes you think that?” You ask. There’s no reason for you to turn this into a screaming match.

The blond stutters. It’s like Aether hadn’t expected your reply to be, well, that. He blinks a few times, trying to process your counter-question… and how to proceed. After a second of thinking, he replies again. “Your tendencies to cling whenever somebody else is speaking. Or how you drag me away when somebody’s asking for help.” Ouch. That’s cold. Unnaturally cold for him.

You nod. “Love, you realise I’m doing it to, I dunno perhaps, help?” You know, you’re not the only one who’s noticed the lack of decorum people show around your partner. How they ask for his assistance in the simplest tasks. And well, how he never seems to find it in himself to deny them. “People are getting overbearing, trampling over you because you never deny.” 

It’s groundbreaking. World shattering. Aether is at a loss for words. Is it really true? He stands, still as a statue, when the severity of your words seeps in. “W-Wait, so—“ He starts, stumbling over his words. “My quote ‘jealousy’ is me trying to help you out from being taken advantage of, Love.” There’s not an ounce of matter in your body where it seems like you’re unserious. Not to mention… how you’re right. 

You get up, coming close. With the gentlest of notions, you pull Aether into a hug. “It’s okay, you know.” You whisper, rubbing comforting circles into his back. “You can work on boundaries.” Your jealousy was just a defence mechanism. Not for you, but to protect him. And, until he’s able to defend himself, you’ll be there in his place. Even if it makes you seem like the clingy and overbearing partner. Who may or may not be an asshole at times. 

𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈

He doesn’t mean to send you into a panic. Unfortunately, his words dig deep. Not because you’re unhealthily possessive in his eyes. It’s because he can see the things that are hidden. Those things you’re not fully ready to tackle right in the moment. 

“You’re the most jealous person I know…” Venti says nonchalantly. He throws it how one would a compliment. But the tone, the words. This isn’t a joke. This feels like an interrogation about to be laced with poison. 

A pin drops. You feel like the mere sentence has knocked all the air out of your lungs. It’s getting hard to breathe. You feel like you’re about to pass out any second now. 

“Love?” He asks. Unfortunately, his words don’t seem to reach you. You’re as still as a statue… Oh god, are you breathing? “Baby? Baby!” Something has gone utterly wrong. You were not supposed to react this way! You were supposed to play into the joke, not take it to heart. Not to mention have a panic attack. 

“Okay… okay…” Venti’s reaction is immediate. He helps you to the ground, holding your hands so you won’t hurt yourself. Even if he didn’t think you’d have a panic attack over his comment, that’s the situation. He has to make it better. “Love, can you hear me?” 

You don’t. You can barely hear anything over your heart pounding. There are too many thoughts running rampant. Will Venti scream? Shout? Leave you over that? Tears continue falling down your cheeks.

“Try— Try and follow my breathing, okay?” He says, linking your hands together. He takes a deep breath, hoping you’ll follow. Your body does, even if you’re still unresponsive. It takes trial and error, sobs rippling through your chest. 

“…sorry—“ You breathe out, leaning forward. You feel exposed. In your subconscious, you feel Venti uncovered something he wouldn’t like. “Don’t apologise, please,” He’s still not convinced. He doesn’t want to assume. “Can I?” He asks, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. He doesn’t need to. You know. Venti is asking if he can give you a reassuring kiss. You shake your head. It’s a little too early for that. “That’s okay,” 

It takes a moment for you to feel like you’ve become one with your body again. Even longer when you feel able to speak about what happened. 

“Do you ever ask why I get this way…?” You begin. “Maybe it’s because -y’know what, never mind…” And it’s gone. But Venti doesn’t push further. Because he knows. He knows that some deeper feelings are buried in your mind. Those that require addressing, but not perhaps now. 

𝐗𝐈𝐀𝐎

He gets the worst timing. Not to mention, how he doesn’t even reply when you enquire. In the end, Xiao makes you think… you’re actually the most jealous person he does know. And what’s about to come is an interrogation. 

“You’re the most jealous person I know,” Xiao says, handing you another plate. It’s an odd timing — right in the middle of doing dishes? Really? Well, in his defence, he didn’t even want to participate in this whole… joke. Venti’s nagging and Heizou’s retelling of his story ultimately pushed him towards it. 

“You’re right, I am. Especially when you look like that, Xiao,” You say, drying a glass and standing on your tippy toes to place it on the back shelf. That- That was not what he expected your reaction to be. You seem to have caught on, stopping to look at him. “Xiao?” 

He’s silent, looking at you in confusion. You come up close, slowly taking a plate from his hands to ensure it doesn’t end up on the floor. “You meant it as a joke, right?” You ask. “I, uh—“ 

“Okay…” You tut, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Let’s finish cleaning up, okay? Then we can discuss it seriously.” Your voice is lower, meeker. Like you came to the wrong conclusion due to his lack of response. A time machine to go back these few minutes, please. 

The rest of the chore session is spent in silence. Uncomfortable one, to be precise. With glasses of water on the table, you’re finally ready to talk. Communication is the key to maintaining a healthy relationship. If Xiao thinks you’re jealous, you’re open to tackling it. No matter how worried it makes you feel. 

“Ssoo…” You begin, taking a nervous look at your partner. He looks equally anxious, if not more. Heavens above, was it that bad? If Xiao was so worried about bringing it up, it had to be serious. “What makes you feel like I’m jealous?” You ask, gulping. 

“I, uh, don’t think you are.” “Wait, what?” You blink a few times to make sure you’ve heard him right. “I don’t consider you to be jealous.” “Sorry, I uh? Do you want me to be more jealous then?” Xiao sees the puzzled look on your face. You do your best to solve the riddle you're getting from his words. Jealous, but not really? Should you be jealous? 

“It’s a trend—.” Xiao takes a sip of his water. “Wanted to see how you’d act... or something,” 

“Oh, you silly goose!” 

𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐙𝐎𝐔

He knows you like the back of his hand. There are many ticks he can do to finally push you to your limit. But what if you actually do act upon his words… If he wants you to be jealous, then why not return the favour tenfold? 

“You’re the most jealous person I know,” Ah. Heizou’s at his annoying behaviour once again. Recently, he’s been doing everything to push your buttons. A compliment to a random coworker here, a brief hug there. Doing everything he could to make you jealous. 

“Oh?” Your voice is higher and clearly amused. Well, if Heizou oh-so wishes, you can play right into the trend. “You know other people?” You ask, dropping down an octave. Your voice almost robotic. You’ve turned around to face him, eyes ice cold. Exactly how the trend goes, yet precisely against the picture Heizou has been painting in his mind. 

For weeks, he wondered. Would you puff your cheeks in annoyance? Would you cling to try and assert dominance? Or maybe, just maybe, you’d leave marks in visible spots. That’d be pretty hot. Alas, here you were being… actually jealous. And not in a cute way.

“What?” He hums, shocked. “No, no, of course I don’t, Darlin’” He has this one smile across his face. The dumb one. The one he likes to plaster on whenever he eats your food when you’ve told him not to. 

“Maybe I’m right in being jealous,” You sigh. Wandering from window to window, you blabber — loud enough for Heizou to hear. “My partner does nothing to stop the unwanted attention… You know what,” You stop for a second, looking directly at him. “Maybe I should take after his behaviour.” You smile. Hugs, compliments, and perhaps a date? If he’s acting like he’s single, so should you.  

“Absolutely not.” His voice gruff, as he grabs you by the shoulders. “My darling is not for sharing, you know.” His olive eyes looking straight through you, searching for any signs of your act being a joke. It had to be. 

“Oh, but Heizou,” You roll your eyes. “If you want me to be jealous, it’s only fair you get jealous too~” 

He drags you closer. With one arm dropped to your waist, he bends forward, cradling you in a graceful arc. All so he can whisper huskily into your ear. “I won’t repeat myself… Darling,” Let’s just say Heizou has bitten off more than he could chew. 

𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐇𝐀

From the beginning he makes it sound like he’s joking. He doesn’t consider you jealous one bit, but there’s nothing wrong in having a little laugh. Besides, once and if a situation of your jealous nature truly arises — he’ll be there to provide you with the truth. 

“Ah, you’re the most jealous person I know, Beloved,” Kazuha’s voice is light as he embraces you from behind. His words — with a heavy meaning behind them, don't carry the same tone. Turning around, you notice a gentle smile across his face. Like your jealousy is a mere word of endearment.

“Is that so?” You ask, returning to your previous task, albeit moving slightly to allow your partner to nestle his head close to your neck. Kazuha only hums in return, his hair tickling you softly as he places a small kiss. “Well, with a partner like that, I’d be silly not to make sure the world knows.” 

Oh? Your words have definitely piqued his interest. He hugs you a little bit tighter, waiting for what your thought process seems to be. “What makes you say that, Dearest?” 

“Oh, you know,” You turn the two of you around, a glass of water in your hand. There’s a struggle in getting to the couch — given you’re basically moving two bodies at once. Kazuha and his cat mentalities… thinking he can just hang on you. “Love, give me a hand, c’mon,” “Okay, okay, whatever my Muse says.” 

Once you safely make it to the couch and Kazuha makes himself comfortable with his head in your lap, everything in his gaze is asking you to continue. Therefore, and once you’ve covered the two of you with a blanket, you resume your thought. “You’re dashing and others want a piece of you for themselves, Kazu. Can’t allow them that,” 

You lean forward, gently grabbing his cheek in between your teeth. To demonstrate your point. Kazuha chuckles in response but cannot deny he’s enjoying himself. Especially when you kiss him across his face, lest a mark forms. “That’s what you think, Muse?” He asks, turning his attention to your hands. 

“People have eyes, of course, they’d want to steal you…” 

The room soon turns into silence. You’re enjoying your glass of water while Kazuha enjoys being treated like a cat — having your fingers play with his hair and all. Unfortunately, there’s an irrational thought bubbling in your chest. Honestly, it’s been there ever since he made the comment. “Kazuha?” “What can I do for you, Dearest?” 

“You’d tell me if I was unhealthily jealous, right?”

“Of course.” 

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐑

What a hypocrite he is. If anything, you should be the one to call out his jealousy… since you’ve gotten yours from being in a relationship with him. Oh well, at least by participating in the trend he’s inflating his already big ego. 

“You’re the most jealous person I know,” Wanderer states as he notices your sour expression. In truth, you aren’t even sour. That’d be an overreaction. Still, you cannot help but roll your eyes at the stack of chocolates and love letters he brought home. It’s like he gets you jealous on purpose to try and get the higher ground… Heavens, the lack of self-awareness on his part.

“Sorry?” You tilt your head, eyebrow raised. “I’m the jealous one?” The tone of your voice is baffled. Hell, you look around and point at yourself. You do your best not to snort. After all, you have to uphold your posture and make him out to be the buffoon here. 

“Who else?” He rolls his eyes. “As far as I know, chairs don’t get in relationships.” Okay that was a stupid joke. Your cover gets blown off as a smug smile graces your lips. You look your partner up and down as you think of what to say next.  

“I think you need a mirror, Love.” You comment, laughing a little. “If anybody is jealous in this relationship, it’s you.” “Oh, please,” He retaliates, turning his head upwards without breaking eye contact. The glint in those blue pupils begging for you to take the challenge. Oh, how amused he is. It’s game on. 

“Mind I remind you of…” You pause, putting a finger to your lips. “Of how you almost strangled the guy who praised my outfit the other day.” The ball is now in his court. “Duh? I’m the only one who’s to compliment your outfits.” He doesn’t forget to mention how he chose it. Taking pride in being complimented for something you didn’t achieve? How childish.

“The barista asking for my number.” “Looked shady, also, ew.” “The girl who helped me to get up after—“ “You shouldn’t have fallen, idiot.” 

It does go back and forth for a while. It’s like for every example, there's a retaliation. Well, he is being delusional in thinking those don’t constitute jealousy. 

“—Miss Miko gifting me the flowers.” For the first time since you’ve started, there’s silence. Oh, you must’ve cut deep. Okay, okay, maybe it was a low blow… Yae Miko and all...

“Good one.” Wanderer smirks. Man, that was quite fun. He'll be sure to repeat it sometime.

𝐈𝐅𝐀

He feels guilty even wanting to attempt it. His motivation is to be useful to others, so making your means of affection out to be something toxic grinds his gears. Will be apologising for the stupid joke for at least a week straight. 

“Bro, you’re the most jealous person I know… you know?” Ifa’s voice is full of uncertainty when it echoes through the room. It’s like he’s unsure if the matter should even be brought to light… Like it’s serious. 

You, on the other hand, are absolutely floored. You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say. Sure, there were some comments about Ifa being married to the saurians instead of you. Did those constitute you being labelled the jealous one? You always try your best to not be controlling, at least you think. Your weight shifts from one leg to the other and you feel your lips trembling. 

“D-Do you really think that?” You ask, tilting your head forward — as a mechanism to not let him see how your eyes fill with tears. Some of the locks make it between your fingers, twirled nervously. “I’m s… sorry, I’ll do bett—er. Promise,” The words are being thrown out haphazardly, hoping any of them land. You’d rather not… have Ifa break up with you right there. 

You brace for impact. The slew of accusations, the painful stabs into your heart. It makes your head spin. Instead, you’re met with the broad chest of your partner. His arms wrap around you as Ifa pulls you into the biggest hug possible. “God, I’m so sorry,” He lets out. Stupid, idiotic, imbecile, he mutters name-calling himself. “It was a stupid joke. I didn’t mean it at all, Bro.” 

You look up at him. Ifa’s jaw is clenched as he rubs your back. “Really?” You ask, still unsure. He wouldn’t be bringing up it if he didn’t mean it… right? “Yeah, I was joking. Didn’t mean a word. Sorry.” He doesn’t peek at you, embarrassed he even attempted to participate in the trend. So stupid, so immature. Of course, you’d be worried. Jokes are only good when both parties laugh. If he could, he’d bash his head against the wall. You deserve better than his antics. 

“I really don’t feel like you’re jealous, okay, Bro,” He says, for the last time today, as kisses you on your head. “I won’t tell you that unless I really mean it.” Ifa holds his pinky up, waiting for your acceptance with bated breath. Only when you link your finger with him, does he feel the calm wash over his body. 

date of posting — may 11th 2025

[vaginalvr]

requests open? yes please.

could you write something along the lines of virgin!spencer being all begging and whiny to have sex and whatnot but his gf is hesitant about it or something like that because she wants him to be sure it's what he wants but then they finally do fuck and it's all loving and sweet and she talks him through it or whatever 😭 sorry idek what I'm saying anymore I'm just a sucker for subby spencer...

anyway feel free to ignore this either way just know I love ur writing ur so talented bye <3

done! enjoy :)

cw: Virgin!Spencer, soft!dom reader, emotional vulnerability, lots of reassurance, desperate/whiny Spencer, slow loving sex, reader guiding Spencer, established relationship

REQUESTS OPEN!

Spencer was kissing you again — slow at first, then deeper, more insistent. His fingers trembled where they clutched at the hem of your shirt, trying not to cross that invisible line you’d drawn weeks ago, the one you both respected but were constantly toeing.

“I want to,” he whispered against your mouth. “Please.”

Your hands curled gently into his curls, stroking the back of his neck. “Spence… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” he murmured, frustrated. “But I’ve thought about it. Every night. Every time I’m near you. I—I want you.”

It was hard not to melt at the way his voice cracked. He was flushed, needy, and clearly struggling to keep himself from pushing further. But that’s why you’d held back — you didn’t want this to be something he rushed through just to have done it. You wanted him to want it… and not regret it.

“Baby,” you said gently, brushing your nose against his. “I don’t want to pressure you. You’ve never done this before. I want you to be sure.”

His hands gripped your hips with sudden desperation. “I am sure. I’m more sure about this than I’ve ever been about anything. God, I—” he swallowed, visibly trying to hold himself back. “I’ve waited. I’ve waited so long because I didn’t want to just… do it with anyone. But I trust you.”

Your heart ached at the earnestness in his voice. You knew he meant every word.

“You’re everything to me,” he whispered. “Please. Let me have this with you.”

You searched his eyes. Wide and pleading, brown and shining with nerves and devotion. Your chest tightened, love blooming so fiercely inside you it almost hurt.

“Okay,” you whispered, thumb brushing his cheek. “Okay, Spencer. We’ll go slow.”

His relief was instant, and so was the kiss he pressed to your lips — messy, grateful, reverent.

“Lay back for me, baby,” you murmured. “Let me take care of you.”

He obeyed instantly, shivering when your hands slipped beneath his shirt, lifting it up over his head. His skin was pale and soft and trembling slightly, and you kissed down his chest with the utmost care, feeling his breath hitch beneath your lips.

“You’re perfect,” you murmured. “You don’t have to be nervous.”

“I’m not—nervous,” he said, breathlessly. “I just—I don’t want to disappoint you.”

“You could never,” you said firmly, leaning up to kiss his mouth again. “Just let yourself feel. I’ll do the rest.”

You took your time undressing him, whispering praise with every inch of skin revealed. Spencer was already hard — twitching in his boxers and whimpering the second your hand brushed over him.

“Oh—god,” he gasped, hips jerking. “That feels—fuck.”

You kissed his hip bone and smiled. “Sensitive already?”

“I can’t help it,” he moaned, face flushed. “You—just looking at you makes me want to come.”

His words made your stomach flutter. He was so honest in his desperation, so sweet in his surrender. You pulled off his boxers slowly, watching his cock spring free — long, flushed, leaking at the tip. Beautiful.

You wrapped your fingers around him gently, and he let out the prettiest, most broken moan you’d ever heard.

“Oh—fuck—I don’t think I’m gonna last,” he whined, his hips stuttering.

“That’s okay, baby,” you cooed, stroking him slowly. “This is about you, remember? We’ve got time.”

“Want to feel you,” he breathed, gripping your wrist. “Please, I want—inside you, I want all of you—”

You climbed back up to straddle his hips, pressing your body flush to his. “You will,” you promised softly. “But we’ll go slow. I’ll tell you everything. I’ll take care of you.”

He nodded rapidly, lips parted, eyes locked on yours.

You slicked him up gently and guided him to your entrance, watching his face shift from anticipation to absolute awe as you slowly sank down.

Spencer gasped — full-body, shuddering — his hands flying to your hips to hold on like he might fall apart otherwise.

“Oh—oh my God,” he choked. “You’re—you feel so good—”

You rocked your hips just enough to seat him fully inside and stilled, leaning down to kiss him sweetly.

“You’re doing so good,” you whispered. “So, so good for me. You feel amazing, baby.”

He whimpered into your mouth, overwhelmed, every muscle in his body trembling. You kissed his cheek, his jaw, his forehead, whispering soft praise between every touch as you slowly started to move.

It was slow, sweet, soft. Your hips moved in gentle circles, coaxing pleasure from him in waves, letting him get used to the feeling. Spencer clung to you, breathless and needy, his eyes rolling back when you clenched around him just right.

“I love you,” he whispered, dazed. “I love you, I love you—”

“I love you too,” you whispered back. “I’m yours, baby. All yours.”

It didn’t take long before Spencer was gasping into your neck, body tightening beneath yours.

“I—can’t—please—I need to—”

“Go ahead, baby,” you breathed, kissing him deeply. “Come for me. Let go.”

With a high, broken cry, Spencer came inside you, clinging to you like you were his lifeline, breath coming in shuddery gasps. You held him close, whispering how proud you were, how good he’d made you feel, how beautiful he was like this.

He was shaking when he came down, but there was a smile on his face — dazed and utterly in love.

“Was that okay?” he asked, a little shy, still catching his breath.

You kissed his forehead. “That was perfect. You were perfect.”

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close, still inside you, unwilling to let go.

“I want to do that again,” he whispered sleepily. “Like… a thousand more times.”

You smiled against his skin. “We’ve got time, sweetheart. I’m not going anywhere.”

[jefth3kilr]

Naruto boys and their opinions on PDA 🍃🎋

-includes: Kakashi; Gai; Jiraiya; Natruto; Sasuke; Shino; Kiba; Shikamaru; Neji; Lee; Gaara; Kankuro

x fem reader (can be read as gn)

warnings: mostly fluff; some suggestive language; Jiraiya (he needs a warning...still love him tho)

not proofread! also I am taking Naruto requests!

Kakashi

don’t hate me…i just don’t think it’s his thing.

I don’t think he would hate it, i just don’t think he would be thinking about it.

when he’s out and about in the village, his main focus is keeping it safe or keeping an eye on his students because god knows what naruto and sasuke are getting into.

But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t hold you hand and hold you close when you both are alone and safe.

I think Kakashi is definitely a romantic, i just don’t think he’d be that publicly. but trust he still listens to you and says ‘yes ma’am’ to anything you say, even in public.

over all: pda isn’t his thing, but he definitely wouldn’t mind if you placed a kiss on his masked cheek whenever you so please

Gai

Oh he’s into pda. Trust he is showing you off to everyone he knows.

he also constantly talks about you, he’s obsessed

I think in front of his students he definitely keeps it on the down low, but they are still aware that you two are a thing. infront of the students he’d probably just keep a hand on the small of your back if your neck to him, maybe place a quick kiss on your cheek.

But in front of the other teachers or if you guys are just out in the village, forgot about it. He’s always holding your hand, leaving surprise kisses on your face like nobodies business. And his eyes won’t leave you for not even a second, he’s hooked.

Also: he will go crazy if you hold onto his arm when you both walk together. It makes him feel all strong and protective.

Gai also talks super loud so whenever he’s telling you how much he loves you the whole world can hear it lmao.

over all, he does not give a shit about pda, he loves it. He only tones it down infront of the students.

Jiraiya

Um…do i really need to explain this one?

This guy is a walking gooner, trust he is all over you. A hand on your ass, around your waist, shit he’s probably even grab your tit in public he does not care.

But at the same time, he also loved protecting you. So there is never a moment he’s not holding you in some sort of way. Even if you’re ‘away’ from him, he will be secretly watching over you. You just think he’s being weird and doing ‘research’ by watching you, but he’s actually just being protective. (though he would not admit that)

also he would love if you hold onto him too. He’s probably not super crazy about hand holding because it sees that as more of a teenager thing, he would gladly let you hold his arm or even hold onto his shirt while you guys explore the village together.

Over all: he’s a pervert, so pda is in his dna. And he’s also protective hehe

Naruto

please….he is the definition of pda.

the second he knows your okay with him showering you with affection in public, it’s over for you.

He kisses your face all the top. And he’ll randomly pick you up bridal style and start running lmao. he’s silly. and he loved to hold your hand. wether your taking a walk, leaving for a mission, or even just in class with kakashi sensei, he’s always holding your hand. It’s an act of love but it also makes him feel more comfortable and safe knowing you’re next to him, since Naruto is so used to being alone.

And he is ALWAYS yapping about you.

“I love my GIRLFRIEND she’s the best!” “Oh yeah my GIRLFRIEND and I…” “Oh nothing, just hanging out with MY GIRLFRIEND.” like we get it buddy, you finally pulled someone.

also he loves to cuddle you in public. Just resting against a tree or wall and holding you in his arms while talking to his friends, he does NOT get embarrassed by it.

But trust if you grab his face and baby him this man will be blushing so hard, he looks like he might pass out lmao (but he loves it don’t worry)

over all: he loved u sm and all he wants to do is show you that constantly (his love language is 100% physical touch)

Sasuke

yeah no…it’s definitely not his thing.

I so believe in private he is a lover, nonchalantly holding you from behind or holding your hand (though if u ask him about it he’ll deny it.) I just don’t think he’d publicly be like that.

though he does little gestures in public to still show you that he’s watching. Like gazing at you while your talking to your friends, or brushing his pinky by your hand when your standing/sitting by each other.

And if you fell asleep with your head resting on his shoulder or anything he definitely wouldn’t push you off or anything. He’d probably just brush slightly but keep minding his own business, staying still as a statue until you wake up.

over all: Sasuke and pda do not mix well together, but he still adores you

Shino

i have mixed feelings about him, i think he doesn’t mind pda, he just doesn’t really do it.

Unlike sasuke, pda isn’t something that makes him weirded out or anything. His way of showing affection though is a little…different

shinso shows ‘pda’ by handing you cool bugs he found; not like beetles or anything scary, but instead like cool butterflies and caterpillars. if your someone that likes insects, he would definitely give you cool centipedes and other weird stuff like that.

he will also picked pretty flowers he sees and put them behind your ear.

He’s not really a hug and cuddle kind of dude, but if you want to hug and cuddle him, he won’t mind. Of course though, he does love resting on each other during a summer evening outside. He is a secret romantic hehe

Shinso will hold your hand for sure while you’re walking. While i don’t think physical touch is his love language, he does enjoy hand holding.

over all: shinso is a quiet lover, but he doesn’t mind if you love pda.

Kiba

yeah he’s into pda, no doubt about that.

but i’m talking about cutely holding hands or keeping a gentle hold on your waist while you walk together. I’m talking he’s like licking your face and shit and rubbing himself against you to get his scent on you. he’s kinda weird like that, but you also have to understand he does it out of love.

Kiba is the type to keep his hand in the back pocket of your pants while you two walk around the village, keeping a smug smirk on his face because he bagged a baddie. And trust he won’t mind if you do it to him too.

He is also the type to grab you while you’re training, bring you behind a tree and kiss you silly before leaving like nothing happened.

He is always holding you in some sort of way, and he loved to show you off too. Like Naruto, he is constantly taking about you to everyone. But unlike Naruto, he just talked about how hot you are LMAO he’s kind of a perv

Over all: he is obsessed with pda, because he loves to show you off. he also wanted everyone to know your taken. (trust he bites your neck to mark u 😭)

Shikamaru

Like Kakashi and Sasuke, I don't think Shikamaru is into pda.

I think he's not very clingy, even when alone. So pda isn't something he'd be super comfortable with.

If you ever showed pda to him, like holding his hand in public or hugging him or something, he'd definitely say "what a drag" while hiding his blush. Shikamaru probably wouldn't mind you publicly loving him every once in a while, but he would never admit that.

Of course though, Shikamaru shows his love for you in different ways. Like cooking you food, or folding your laundry when you forget about it. He'd definitely more of an acts of service guy, but he hides it so that you don't tease him about it.

Over all: I think Shikamaru does not like pda, his way of showing love does not really include physical affection.

Neji

Neji is another one that says he doesn't like pda....but he secretly really does.

I believe, in private, Neji absolutely craves your physical affection. He likes laying in your lap and letting you play with his long hair. But in public, he claims he doesn't want that.

He doesn't want to be seen as weak or anything by his team or opponents, but in reality Neji would feel weak in the knees if you wanted to hold his hand or if you messed with his hair infant of people.

It gives him pride knowing that you love him enough to show it to the world.

Over all: I think Neji is a little bit more of a quiet lover like Sasuke. I don't think he'd like if you kissed him or anything like that in public. But would gladly hold your hand or keep his hand on your lower back to keep you safe.

Lee

Like Gai, this guy is obsessed with pda

He already feels like the gods have blessed him with the privilege of even being able to look at you, let alone be able to hold you in public.

Lee would talk peoples ear off about how perfect you are, to the point people groan when they hear your name lmao. He's a bit annoying about it but it's only because he loves you so much.

Lee would die of a heart attack if you held his hand in front of people, especially his team mates.

Lee also loved when you hold his arm while walking. Like Gai, it makes him feel all strong and stuff for making you feel safe enough around him to believe he will protect you (and trust, he will protect you)

Lee would also be the type to kiss your face constantly. If you tell him to stop he would definitely sulk in a corner.

Over all: to Lee you are the most precious thing to walk the earth, and he will definitely show that publicly. He loves pda.

Gaara

Yeahhh no...

Making Gaara feel safe enough to even show his love for you was already difficult, I really doubt he would it publicly.

Though like Neji, I think Gaara would really like private physical affection. Like when you two are alone in the safety of your home, he would definitely enjoy you petting his hair while he lays in your lap. Or even holding his hand while you both read a book.

Gaara really likes his alone time, but he doesn't like the alone part. His way of showing love is through quality time, even if that means your both doing your own thing, but at least in the same room.

I also think Gaara is quite emotional in private, so sometimes physical affection might make him tear up because he's not used to it.

This is another reason I don't think Gaara likes pda, since he doesn't want to show his emotions like that in front of people.

Over all: Gaara likes physical affection, just not in front of people. He feels much more comfortable in private with you.

Kankuro

Like Kiba, this guy goes crazy for pda

I feel like Kankuro is a bit cocky when it comes to showing you off, so he's definitely all over you in public.

Wether it be kissing you, holding your waist, or even a simple hand holding, he WILL have a big ass smirk on his face.

He would also mark you for sure, wanting everyone to know that your taken.

He brags about you a lot, telling his team all about you and shoving it in people's faces.

But I think in private, he more tame. He really just wants to cuddle and be sweet, but in public he doesn't want people to know he's actually a softy.

Over all: Kankuro lovesssss pda. (but he will get super flustered if your the one that initiates it hehe)

thank you for reading! i had banner/pictures for gaara and kankuro too but it only let me put 10 images 😔 pls feel free to send requests! with specific characters too just incase i take one out!

[ysrjune]

please i am begging for a teen dad! scott barringer x gf!reader where they go to the farmers market or something when their baby is still a toddler like 1 1/2 and just some super cute fluff with scott holding the baby and just adorable moments in general please 🙏

I've never been to a farmers market, so I chose the grocery store ANDD added other scenarios for u. Enjoy 💜

You insisted that your boyfriend just take the baby carrier with you guys inside the store, but he wasn't for it. "I can hold him. Plus, there's a seat meant for kids on the carts, so if I get tired, I'll just put him in there." Scott tells you.

Thank God that you had made a list of what you needed. Neither of you could remember from the top of the head what was missing back at home. "Milk, cereal, fruit.." You side eye Scott as you're about to read the next thing listed. "4 bags of goldfish?"

Scott looks at you and nods. "Who put that ther-Was it you??" He raises his eyebrow at the baby boy. The baby covers his mouth with his small chubby hand and then shoves it in there. "Yeah, Leo did it." Scott tsks and looks back at you. "Little trouble maker already, aren't you?" He removes the baby's hand from his mouth. "Don't do that. That's disgusting." Scott sighs and pulls a napkin from his hoodie pocket and wipes off the drool.

You roll your eyes and cross out the goldfish. Maybe one bag was okay, but you needed to stick to the actual list.

At your parents' house, there was no room for you and the baby, but luckily, Scott's house was way big enough. 2 stories and had a guest room that they turned into a nursery. You switched to online school during the middle of your pregnancy, and to 'pay back' your in-laws, you cooked and cleaned around the house while they were at work and Scott was at school.

Scott had Leo in the cart seat, pushing the cart as he followed you around. He was talking to the baby about how he was gonna switch schools next month.

"That school I'm enrolling in after winter break is supposed to help me graduate faster if I have enough credits." He tells the baby. "And it's allll because of you. Thanks a lot, pal." He grins and plays with the babies hair. He ran into the back of your ankles a few times, and everytime, he blamed Leo. "He was distracting me, babe. Honest!"

He ended up just carrying Leo the rest of the time as he helped you shop. "Oh, we need bacon and chicken legs. Can you make those again? The legs? Like, fried but not with flour? It's really good. I like it." Scott was daydreaming about what you would make for dinner the next week. He thinks your cooking is so good. Before you moved in, he had to deal with his mom's weekly spaghetti, un-well seasoned porkchops, and whatever frozen food was in the freezer.

"Your brother is so cute!" The cashier lady tells Scott with a sweet smile. He knew she meant well, but it still bothered him. Hell, it bothered him being a dad. A teen-dad at that, but it was all worth it because he loves you and Leo. Even if it's hard here and then. "Thanks," Scott mutters and takes his dad's card out of his wallet to pay. Yes, his dad pays.. it's groceries.

—

When Leo was 5 and actually able to talk, Scott's life got even better. He could actually have a whole conversation with him now, even if Leo was sort of.. annoying sometimes.

"Daddy," Leo rubs his eye with one hand, standing in front of the TV. "Yeah, buddy, what's up?" Scott asks, moving his head around to catch an angle of the TV where he could see the whole screen while his son was in front of it. "Hey man, you mind moving really quick, please? I'm watching the game." Scott says, still trying to catch that angle.

"Daddy, you know I watch the kangaroo song after I nap." Leo pouts. "Yeah Leo, I know that, but look, we can watch it after daddy watches the game, okay? This is a really good game so far and I really wanna-" "Kangaroo song. Kangaroo song, Kangaroo song," Leo says while jumping up and down. "KANGAROO SONG!" Leo yells. "ALRIGHT!!" Scott yells back in frustration. It doesn't scare the boy, though. He just laughs.

Scott groaned and went to go fetch the dvd for it and then inserted it into the dvd player. "Ya little brat." He rolls his eyes, flopping on the floor, listening to the damn Kangaroo song. He hated it so much, but if Leo didn't hear it after his naps, he'd get into a mood. Worse than Scott's.

Leo was hopping around to the song with a big smile on his face, singing along. Scott knew Leo was gonna replay it over and over again, so he turned to his side and decided to tune it out and take a nap. It was finally summer, and he thought that it'd be a chill one, but no. You were either out with your friends or parents (which was well deserved since you always took care of Leo while Scott was busy with school, football, and going out when appropriate) And Scott was here dealing with the 5 year old.

—

It was finally Scott's 21st birthday, and his parents threw him a surprise party after coming back from running stupid unnecessary errands all day. "No way, you guys did all this?" Scott smiles and hugs you, his mom and then his dad. "We did. Your dad just bought the stuff." His mom laughs. "Happy birthday, honey." She smiles and kisses his cheek.

Obviously, there was alcohol, music, dancing, drinking games, friends and family.. and kids. The backyard was really big, so there were activities out there for them. A bouncy house, toys and playhouse, swings, and everything kids like.

After running around for a while, Leo came back thirsty. The first thing he saw on the table where you and Scott were sitting was a cup half filled with an amber liquid. In Leo's mind, it was apple juice. You both didn't register your son reaching for the cup, too engaged in a conversation with a few friends from highschool. Once you heard a gag and noticed the cup drop to the floor, you looked at who dropped it. "LEO! What're you doing!" Scott reaches for his crying son.

"Leo, what were you thinking?!" You open a water bottle and give it to him. "I'm sorry mama, I thought it was juice!!" He cries, thinking he was going to be spanked. Upon hearing that, Scott starts to laugh. "Juice? Dude, you're totally insane." He keeps laughing and now stroking the boys head. "It's okay, you made a mistake. The juices are in the cooler over there. Go get one." Scott says, calming the boy down while also pointing to the blue cooler.

"I'm sorry daddy." Leo apologizes again. "It's okay, buddy." Scott replies and kisses the boys forehead. "Go play around for a little while before it's time for bed." He takes him off of his lap and gently pushes Leo to go over to play

"That was hilarious." Scott begins to laugh again. "Poor baby. He was so scared." You frown, now watching how Leo was drinking a caprisun and walking over to his cousins and friends. "He'll forget about it in an hour." Scott shrugs and holds onto your thigh. "Trust me he's gonna be okay."

—

Leo has an obsession with dinosaurs and gorillas. Like, he watches every movie he can that has them. So ofcourse his favorite movies are Ice Age: Dawn of the dinosaurs, and Tarzan. Scott actually likes Tarzan. He thinks it's sort of stupid, but either way, his eyes are always glued to the screen. His favorite character is Tantar.

His favorite in Ice Age is Buck and Rudy. He thinks Rudy is so badass. Well.. he likes all of them, actually. Especially Crash and Eddie. Again—they're so stupid, but he can't take his eyes off the TV.

Leo liked Tarzan so much that he always asked you or Scott to sing him the lullaby that the mom sang to Tarzan at the beginning. It put him right to sleep, so your answer was always yes when he wanted you to sing it to him. Scott never let you around when he'd sing. It was only for Leo's ears.

—

• Scott has a photo of you holding Leo in the hospital in his wallet.

• Leo is a perfect mix of you and Scott.

• Leo is such a sweetheart. He's very nice but he can also be a handful sometimes.

• Scott carries Leo around all the time or holds his hand.

• Leo is such a mommas boy, but he loves his daddy too.

—

When Leo was born, Scott held him in the corner of the room while you were asleep. He was in a chair, a blanket on his lap. Leo was staring at his dad through half lidded eyes. "I can't believe this." Scott thinks to himself. "I'm a dad. A 16 year old dad in 10th grade. Should've used a condom."

He admired the way the baby looked so soft and warm (he was) and felt his heart ache when Leo would yawn or begin to let out small whines. Scott wasn't the best at knowing what to do right off the bat, so he just assumed that Leo wanted to be rocked. It worked, thankfully.

—

People at your school knew you were pregnant and they knew who the dad was, but when you stopped coming to school, they sort of forgot about it until they tried to stalk yours and Scott's social media for updates. The only thing they saw was Scott's profile picture which was you and him at your baby shower.

He keeps things private. He doesn't even really talk about it with his friends unless they ask, and even then, he keeps it simple and short. He gets stares all the time around campus when somehow everyone found out that you had given birth. Must've been one of his 'friends' that said something. It was really annoying because even the teachers knew.

"So how's the baby?" Mr. Justin asks in front of the whole class one day. Scott looks up from his lab table and shrugs. "He's good."

"Oh, so it's a boy? What's his name?"

Scott wanted to roll his eyes so bad but he kept himself from it. "Leonardo." He says, not loud enough for everyone in the classroom to hear. But the teacher repeated it. "Leonardo Barringer. Cool." The man nods. "How's dad life treating you?"

"I like it." Scott shrugs.

"You take care of the baby?" Anorher damn question? When will this guy shut up?!

Scott decided to lie because he didn't want everyone to know his business. "No, I go over to my girlfriends house during the day and then she takes care of him at night and I go home."

"Makes sense since she's the mom." Mr. Justin nods. "Well, you're lucky you don't have to wake up to a crying baby all the time." He chuckles and goes back to the lesson.

Scott could feel everyone staring, but he just kept writing notes in his notebook. He knew they were judging, but he didn't care because what he said wasn't true.

big daddy reference lol also sorry I couldn't think of anything else is like 2am rn and I'm getting sleepy

@bxbyysstuff @anakinstwinklebunny @lovethestarrs @valloos @anisangeldust @xo-yaaaaaasxo @anakinca @dollfilmz @alexlovesysrjune @sockiess @sythethecarrot @speaknow-sw @loveamira @alealuvshayden @mvst4far

[antimony-medusa]

Was wondering with all your excellent thoughts on creator's boundaries and keeping fan things in fan spaces, do you have any thoughts on the opposite happening, as in creators going into fan only spaces?

I was thinking about this because I have seen multiple streamers read fanfic on camera that had "if you're the streamer please just ignore this" written on them and that always feels like it's slightly icky to the boundaries of the fanfic writer but I can also see the argument that it has the streamers name on it, therefore they can do what they want with it.

Also felt a bit weird with Wilbur posting something he intended to be canon for the dsmp on ao3, a fandom space explicitly for fan creations, but that's a slightly different can of worms

Would love to hear your thoughts if you have the time!

Right. So, my formless thoughts after having written an essay for most of the day.

I do not— love— creators in fandom spaces. I have not seen any specific instances of creators reading fic that has "if you're the streamer please ignore this", but I have seen multiple instances of creators reading fic specifically with the intention of finding fic that's weird/funny/bad and making fun of it. They always seem to end up on self-insert fic obviously written by some 16 year old with a crush, too, and read that out to thousands of people to make fun of it, and man. It doesn't feel great!

However, I do see the argument that if has their name on it they can do what they want with it, but especially if you're talking about fic with "streamer don't interact" on it, like, I feel like creators are misunderstanding the purpose of that story. That's not intended for them to look at it, the writer is probably mortified that they saw it. It is not the same thing but the emotional equivalent is approximately aligned with my friend comes over, I say "make yourself at home", and my friend starts going through my embarrassing medical devices. Like I did say make yourself at home but why are you sorting my meds and googling what they're prescribed for? You were technically invited but idk man. I kind of thought that you weren't going to go through my medicine cabinet??? Now you know that I have some serious medical issues which I have not been talking about, and that's hovering in the air between us? I just wanted to discuss video games with you?

Okay like, I see the argument that creators should be able to look at anything that has their names on it and do whatever. But I feel like creators just baseline do not get fandom, a lot of the time, which is fair! Fandom is a bunch of people getting way too fucking into a creator/concept/story and then displaying their thoughts for the edification of other people who are also distinctly abnormal about that idea. And if creators walk into a fandom space with 'fandom" above the door, nobody's going to enjoy what happens. I was DMing with a friend today and we were talking about emduo trusting each other enough to fall asleep together and then we just spammed crying emojis at each other for a while because oh my god character feelings. I don't want Philza to see that! That's for my friends who I have my "instead of brain there is emduo" feelings with. I don't even do that in front of my normal friends who I discuss life goals with. Fandom is for people who have decided to go absolutely around the twist about their blorbos, and like if you are a normal person, and especially if you are a normal person who shares a username with the guy I'm torturing, you are going to find this space weird.

And so you get creators who walk into a space, and then it's weird, and then they are uncomfortable and say hahahah these guys are weird, and nobody profits! Nobody is having a good time! This sucks for everyone involved!

I feel like if creators are in a place where they go "If I google my name I will see shit but that's on me" and then they google their name anyways, that's one thing. But most of the time they don't even have that framework, it's just walking up to someone you don't know and going "huh huh huh are you talking about me what are you saying can I see" but in this case the people you're talking too are kind of obsessed with the ongoing roleplay at lunch you have with your friends where you're playing out betrayals and bloody deaths over the mashed potatoes, and nobody is going to be happy if those people detail the extended bloody death scene they wrote for you, much less the alternative happy ending where platonic arranged marriage stops the war.

There's a thing where like the saying is "eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves" and like, it's not the same thing here, but it holds. If they wanted you to know, they would have TOLD you. And they're not telling you cause they know the aging down a character into a sad baby to be kidnapped is not going to hit the same to the guy whose name it is. They're keeping that over here, archive locked, where only the other freaks obsessed with the lunch roleplay are sharing notes. Drags hands down face. Like the thing is I do understand on a baseline if people want to see what other people are saying about them, but the thing is, it does not ever go well. I do see the argument of well I should see what you're doing to my persona, but like— fandom is weird. If you have a fandom of any sort, and you are aware you have a fandom, you should know that even if entirely platonic, the fandom is doing horrible things to your character. War crimes are just the start. You either need to be prepared to see the war crimes, or know how to filter and bounce your eyes, or you— and I think we would all be much happier— can just stay away. Like let the weirdos in their discords talk about giving your character a mental breakdown, they're just following the honourable tradition of putting blorbo in a hydraulic press, but if THEY know that it would be weird to show it to you, why are YOU breaking into their house to find the weird stuff? This doesn't sound like a winning social activity for anyone involved.

Anyways yeah. I don't love creators in fan spaces. Click the box to make your fic not googleable and consider archive locking. Can we PLEASE keep fandom space and creators separate.

[fruitsywriting]

Hello! Could you pls write something where the reader is struggling with addiction and is depressed about the situation. He goes to Mark when he’s sad about it and Mark doesn’t know and he ends up telling Mark what’s going on cause he feels like shit making him (mark) worry about him(reader). He and Mark have a heart to heart about it and Mark does something to cheer him up (they do something cute, like go on a walk and get food or smt fluffy idk). Thx sm

As someone who has severe depression and watched people struggle with different types of addiction, I feel like I was qualified enough to do this. Apologizes for how long this took I wanted to wait until I was done with my semester of college before answering asks.

Pairings: Mark Grayson x Male Reader

Fandom: Invincible

You don’t know when it started, time warped around in your memories to where it all became a big blur. Youll question the passage of time, how long has it truly been? The only thing that’ll stick out in memories is important events, like Mark’s Birthday.

That day stood out because while you were still struggling, it felt nice to have a time to just forget you even were. A nice distraction as you watched your boyfriend excitedly talk to you and his friends about how he loved the presents, and then how you all went out to do whatever he wanted to do. That’s when he pulled you all to the amusement park. You all warned Mark not to eat before getting on the ride but he said he went flying like that as Invincible all the time. Afterwards he was doubled over in a trashcan, not expecting all the loops and turns specifically, but also because he just ate too much. However, he still had a fun day and bounced back to normal after sitting down for just 15 minutes.

You smile tiredly at the memory before turning to your desk that had wrappers all over it- and you look at the keychain of Seance Dog that had the initials MG on the back, you and Mark getting matching ones with each other’s initials on it. Even if you weren’t entirely into the series, it made Mark happy- therefore made you happy. Then there’s the Photo Booth picture with you, Mark, Amber, William, Rick and Eve. Then the Photo Booth picture of just you and him.

You groan when you realize your phone is dead, and you scavenge among your room for the cord. There it is, right next to an empty pill bottle you never threw away. You let out a shaky sigh before plugging the cord into the wall and then into your phone. You wait for about a minute before the screen lights up and you see missed messages and calls. Shit.

[3 missed calls from Mark 💛🩵]

Mark 💛🩵: Hun? Did I do something wrong? You haven’t been answering me

Mark 💛🩵: Babe?

Mark 💛🩵: Can I come over tn? I had a rough day

Mark 💛🩵: ?

Mark 💛🩵: I’m sorry for whatever I did, I miss you. Is something going on? Please don’t shut me out

The messages make your gut coil and churn with guilt, it doesn’t feel good at all. He’s worried about you and yet you’re being a terrible boyfriend by not telling him, by being self-centered-

Then it hits you. He was like this with Amber before they broke up the first time. You were going to text but he deserves a call instead. You take a deep breath, rub your forming headache, and hit the call button.

It rings a few times before he answers, he voice sounding frantic, excited, worried, and relieved all at the same time.

“Babe- oh thank god. Oh my god I was so scared that something happened to you- or- or I did something wrong”

“No, no, you did nothing wrong. Sorry I didn’t answer, my phone was dead”

“It was dead? You used to never let it die, you were so concerned about its battery life at all times of the day” He lets out a sad chuckle.

“Yeah, I know. It’s so weird. Anyways- uh, are you okay? I saw your messages from last night”

“Uhm, I would say I’m okay but I could be better. Got a little beat up yesterday. It’s healed but it’s… not fun”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

“Can I come over?”

You hesitate. You look around your room and it’s a disaster. Laundry everywhere, trash everywhere, things out of place. It looks like someone threw everything into your room and called it a day. He hears the hesitation and sighs.

“Is that a no? Usually when you hesitate it’s a no”

Nonono, you don’t want him to get the wrong idea- to think you don’t love him or have time for him anymore. Before you can think you say, “No, it’s a yes. You can come over”

“Okay, okay, oh man, I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be dressed quick and be there in 5”

“Okay great, can’t wait to see you. Love you”

“Love you too, bye”

“Bye”

As soon as he hangs up you shovel the clothes from the floor into your hands and throw it into the bottom of the closet. When he says he will be there in five, he means it. Curse him and his speedy flying- but not really because you love that man whole heartedly. You grab a trash bag and just throw shit into it, hoping nothing important gets thrown in there. You’re making progress, but because it’s scattered all across your room you also feel like you’re making no progress at all. You just freeze and stare at the floor- almost as if you want it to just disappear. You can’t get yourself to continue to move- the sight alone makes you wanna start hyperventilating. It needs to be cleaned. You need to be clean. Oh god, what does the rest of the house look like? Before you know it you’re crumpling to the ground and sobbing into your arms. It feels life shattering, but you know with a little bit of drugs- it’ll just be a silly little problem that could be melted away. You sniffle, thinking about if you took the last pill or if you still have some more left.

Knock knock knock. At your window. You can hear it behind yourself- and you feel yourself start to cry again. God, now Mark- you’re perfect superhero boyfriend- knows you’re a fucking slob with an addiction.

Knock knock knock. Sounds a little more frantic this time. Time to face the music, face your greatest fear- and it was one you knew you couldn’t escape because you couldn’t get your life together. You slowly stand up, and open the window. You expected him to recoil in disgust at your appearance and the state of your room. But no- his soft brown eyes look concerned.

“Are you okay? I thought I heard you cryin-“

The question alone brought you to tears again. He looks a little startled but fully comes into the room from your window and pulls you into a hug. You wanna pull back- telling him to get away because you’re disgusting. But you just sob into his shoulder.

“Oh hun, what’s wrong?” He asks delicately with warmth underlying. You sniffle, trying not to hiccup over every word that stumbles out of your chapped lips.

“I’m sorry” Is the first thing you say, as it is the first thing that comes to mind. You feel like you need to apologize for everything, for even existing.

“Sorry for what?” He pulls back to try and look at your face, when you look down, he doesn’t try to force you to look at him. But he just wants to gauge your facial expressions from what he can see.

“I’m- I’m a mess. Me, my room, and- and” You can’t think of a way to explain your addiction to him, or your severe depression that just kept getting worse these past few months. He doesn’t cut you off, he waits patiently for you to finish.

“I’m… I’ve been taking pills.”

You expected him to gasp, to flinch even, anything that showed horror, disgust, maybe even him being upset. But no. He lightly rubbed your arms and nodded.

“For how long?”

“2 months.”

“Okay, I’m here. Do you wanna talk about it?”

His calm response almost made you cry again. It felt so normal- not like he was brushing the problem under the rug, but like he was humanizing what you went through. Your lip quivers and you don’t know how to respond. Yes, you wanna talk about it. But also no, because you don’t trust your own voice.

“We don’t have to talk about it right now. We can just lay together, sit together, watch Tv. Whatever you want, whatever you need, I will try to make possible”

You take a few deep breaths to steady yourself, “I think I wanna shower first, if that’s okay.”

“Of course. Do you want me to order food or make food in the meantime?”

You didn’t feel hungry but it wasn’t good to not eat so you end up agreeing. You grab some fresh clothes from your closet, which isn’t much, and then head into the shower.

✮⋆˙🔮˗ˏ🖇⋆⭒˚｡⋆🎧..✮⋆˙🔮˗ˏ🖇⋆⭒˚｡⋆🎧..✮⋆˙🔮˗

After the shower, you eat the food Mark cooked for you and explain to him what has been going on. How you fell into a deep depression again and then you started using. Then you explain, with your eyes watering and your voice threatening to break, that you were ashamed. That you didn’t want to tell him because you feel gross when you get to this point, and it feels like you can’t come back. Then you hiccup and sob that you’re sorry for being distant and making him worry.

He sits there and lets you finish, before pulling you into a hug. He kisses your temple softly and explains that he understands. He doesn’t understand on a personal level but he understands your thought process and thanks you for opening up to him now.

He makes you feel sane. It isn’t like he fixed you, but you feel less insecure as he helps you clean your room and make a plan for how to navigate this moving forward. He helps with resources, if you’re willing to accept that just yet, and then helps shop for new groceries as well.

He understands it takes time too, you don’t just magically get better. He’s there for you every step of the way. He’s been understanding to you the way you were for him. When he’s in the hospital because of a fight or is bruised up, you drop whatever you're doing and rush to be there. In a way, you two understand the other's struggles without being in the same position. Perhaps you understand each other in only the way a boyfriend would. He celebrates every day you go without using, every day you’re clean instead of focusing on the fact you’ve used at all. And you patch him up (really it’s just putting kids bandaids on his bruises while the two of you laugh at how silly it is) and tell him what he did was brave and that he’s saving lives. And maybe he even saved yours.