i remember the last day when i kissed your face

City lights.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: All these years together, and you had to fall in love before he goes.

Warnings: Angst

Words: 5022

A/N: Real life is taking away the best of me. So I needed to write, even though my brain doesn’t let me. Have fun with this little story. I also recommend you guys to listen to this before or while reading it for a major effect.

A special thanks to Jade (@brighterlights ) for being my beta reader, who has spent a valuable amount of time helping me with my grammar mistakes and poor phrasing. Thank you so much for being this awesome and kind, I appreciate you tons.♥ 


Originally posted by heartsnmagic

It was one of those unusual nights where cold beers end up losing their freshness after being left on the coffee table for way too long. Those nights that remain unnoticed on the electricity bill at the end of the month. Those nights when the alarm sounds, you’re already awake. Yes, they were exceptional nights. But so typical when he was involved in them.

His presence in your life was sporadic, but his memory was splattered all around you. You had pictures, stolen hoodies, his old dog tags, and diaries saved in a tiny box hidden under your bed. He even said once that your place was the best for him to hide his heart because nobody would search for it outside the battlefield.

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The King-part 2

The King-part 1

Summary- Gwendolyn yearns for more. More freedom, more choices, and more pleasure only King Negan can provide. Medieval AU

Warnings- Smut, Knife Play, Possible Dub-Con, Punishment, darker than my normal stuff

Word Count- Around 4.3K

Author’s Note- Probably not historically accurate. Lol. This is my submission for @jeffreydeanmorganrarechar Red Velvet prompt as well as @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash Negan Writing Challenge prompt knife play. Thanks to @theatricalbride for the brain storming session. It helped a lot. This will probably be a collection of one shots.

Tag List- @breemacen24 @negans-network @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash @ladylorelitany @melodicdolls @ninjacuddlepile @negansqween @thatwriterizzy @sassyfiedscribbles @ashzombie13 @wadeyourebarelyalive @starshinesupergirl @adayinmymeadow @astrangegirlsmind @supererogatoryblog (these are the people that have requested to be tagged in everything I write or have said they don’t mind if others tag them…if I missed you just let me know. I’m sorry)

My beautiful moodboard was created by the lovely and talented @ofdragonsanddreams16. I love it! It is so gorgeous.

Gwendolyn gazed at her reflection. Her hand slid down the bodice of her dress. She finally looked and felt like a queen. Having been married for a little over a month, she had felt like a prisoner, a possession, and a failure but never a wife or queen.

She had been raised to expect to marry a king of her father’s choosing. He stressed that it was her duty to secure an alliance with a powerful kingdom. Her mother persuaded her that marrying for position, power, and the love of the people would provide her a life with purpose. Who needed the love of a husband? Gwendolyn was prepared to live without it. In fact, she was taught by her mother to live independently of a husband and keep her own council. Many men would be happy to share her bed and leave her to her own devices during the day, but she had not married just any man.

King Negan was possessive and guarded her jealously. In the stories of fair maidens being rescued by handsome knights, he would have been the dragon that burnt all would be suitors to ash and cinders. He isolated her so only those loyal to him had access to her. Her handmaidens were chosen by him, reported to him, and seem to delight in reminding her of that fact. There was no friendship, no shared gossip, none of the warmth she had had with her previous servants.

She fared no better with the ladies of the court. They knew she held no favor with her husband. Therefore, there was nothing to be gained by her friendship. It would only bring themselves under the scrutiny of the king. A situation everyone actively avoided.

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I’m not giving up

genre: Kris-Yeol love triangle
type: drabble/scenario
characters: Chanyeol, Kris, EXO, reader
Do not re-post without permission or use in any way, this is my work.
Thanks to my baby Okarina @kpopthirstystan that helped me pick up the members since the anon who requested it left it open. xoxo, ara~


You couldn’t tell anybody. No matter how much you were dying to tell them, you couldn’t even mentioned it. Not even to his best friends, no one was supposed to know you were dating Kris. The only ones who knew were you two and the manager. Whom recommended to keep it as a secret for the time being. Of course, you two had agreed but you never imagine how hard it would be, to keep the secret from the boys. Specially when you all were so close.

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Bruises, part 1 : Three o'clock in the morning it's quiet and there's no one around

Word count : 1042

Author note : So this is it, after two weeks of waiting this is the first part of Bruises. I’m posting it while I’m in my bus to London, I hope you’ll like it, as usual, feedback is appreciated and the tag list will re-open on March 21st. Tag list is at the bottom. Domestic violence is not normal, don’t let that happen even once because it’ll happen again, run away or go to the police or call special numbers for domestic violence.

Warnings : Blood, mention of domestic violence, mention of death, sort of spoiler from Captain America : Civil War, sadness, memories.

Song of the title : Stay (Faraway,So Close), Flyleaf (cover)

Masterlist

Bruises masterlist



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So this is Heaven

Request - Imagine Adam grabbing onto your hand when walking through even moderately populated areas because he’s still getting used to being back on Earth

As requested

Hope you like Anon 


You drove for hours to get there, finding a quiet part of anywhere these days was hard, but it’s what he needed.

Since he was pulled from the cage he’d barley left his room. You couldn’t blame him, you couldn’t even begin to imagine what he went through down there. 

It took you weeks to convince him to let you sit next to him. You started sitting on a chair by his door, just talking to him. Eventually he started talking back, only a few words at first but slowly more. 

You slowly moved further into the room, inch by inch.  Until eventually you were sitting right next to him, Adam on his bed, you still in your chair. One day you rested you hand on the bed,  chatting mindlessly as you watched show random show on your laptop.

You saw him shift on the bed but you thought nothing of it. Then you felt it, the feeling of skin touching skin. It was a simple touch, almost like he was making sure you were real. You didn’t react,  even though you wanted to. You just let him rest the back of his hand against yours, and that’s where it began. 

The next day when you went back to his room, the chair was gone. 

“Adam, where’s my chair?” You frown looking around the room 

He didn’t answer just patted the space on the bed next to him. You eyebrows shot up in shock but you nodded. You plugged in your laptop, sitting next to him. Shoulder to shoulder, and that’s how you’ve been spending your days.  

Sam and Dean would check in on you both between  hunts. It was hard for you not to go with them but Adam needed you,  and Sam and Dean were happy you could help him where they couldn’t. 

You look over at the passenger seat where he sat head fallen back, eyes closed. You both knew he wasn’t sleeping,  he rarely slept, and when he did he had many nightmares. In fact except for the few minutes here and there with his head on your shoulder in front of the laptop over the last few days, you couldn’t remember when he really slept last. You frown at the thought. 

“Your face will stick that way if you carry on” you cast your eyes over to see him watching you. You smirk at the road

He asked how much longer you’d be, Stretching as much as he could.

“10 minutes or so” you see him tense beside you, you reach out and squeeze his hand. 

“It’ll be ok. I can’t even explain how proud I am that you’re doing this Adam” you say honestly. 

He squeezes your hand back, before bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of it gently. Your breath catches, he’s never done anything like that before. 

You’d finally arrived,  it was a small, quiet country park. It had animals and a lake and you’d chosen a weekday so it would be quieter.

You turned off the engine and sat waiting for him to be ready. His grip tightened on your hand.

“You aren’t going to….I mean you’ll be there right?” He looked so scared, you nodded swallowing the lump in your throat. 

“I’m right here” he release your hand, you get out of the car and walk around to his side of the car. He opens the door in a hurry, like you’d pull off a band aid.

You go to move but he doesn’t follow so you stop. Hands in your pockets, he looked ready to run. 

“Why don’t we start by the lake? There’s seats by there we can just sit for a while” you ask him, pointing in the general direction of the lake

His eyes snap to yours, he takes a deep breath and nods. You nod your head, taking another step.  He shuffles forward but the stops. You walk back to him

“If you want to go we can….” he shakes his head 

“No….but I…I mean can…God I sound like a school boy….” he stammers, you smile at him telling him it’s ok and to take his time. He inhales deeply,  before stepping towards you, pulling your hand from your pocket and lacing your fingers with his own.

“Is this ok? You ground me….” He asks looking down at you

*has he always been this tall?*

You smile brightly nodding as you start walking to the lake.

“Everything good….I have a hard time believing…what they did was…” he tries to explain

“Adam you haven’t got to tell me…”

“If I’m going to tell anyone it’s going to be you… You’ve literally been everything since I got out Y/n.”

You feel your heart swell.  You try to pin point the moment you fell for him. Was it when  you’d sit up all night talking? Was it when he first spoke to you? Or was it when you wrapped a blanket around him when he was dropped in the bunker, straight from hell and he looked you in the eye for the first time? 

You smile as you realise you don’t really care. You wanted nothing more the to launch forward and kiss him, but you don’t. Instead you bring your ring and index fingers to your lips kissing them, before pressing them to his lips. 

He smiled beneath you fingers as he kisses them in return. You smile at the him as he brings him hand up to caress your cheek. He leans forward whispering to himself

“Please don’t wake up, please don’t wake up…” you reach for his face, running your thumb over the skin

“This isn’t a dream Adam…” you hush as you close the distance and press your lips to his lightly. You pull back to see him clenching his eyes shut.

“Open your eyes…” he does as you ask “see, still here.” You gesture around.

He looks around for any sign that this wasn’t real. He cups your face and you lean into his hand. He smiles brightly

“I think I love you….” your jaw falls open before a grin  spreads over your features

“Oh Adam, I know I love you….” you giggle,  he let’s a breath, smile erupting over his face.

As he kisses you again, before looking deep into you eyes

“So this is what heaven feels like….”

Chester

The sky feels empty,
The stars don’t seem as bright as they use to be,
the world is silent with dances from the wind and broken hearts in every corner,
the rain resignates my feelings,
I hope you don’t hear me screaming.

Tonight, I’m thinking of all the times we’ve been through, all those times you sat there with me as I cried while your soothing words made the ache a little less
Now, your words are echos amongst the screaming crowds trying to find their way back to you.
Tonight, I see your face every time I close my eyes,
but all I see is your smile, all I can hear is your laugh.

Seven days past,
and the wounds are still in tact.
Seven days past,
and you’re all I rather hear, all I rather see, you’re all my mind is focus on.
The memories keep me up and I can hear myself screaming, “You should’ve been here”
you should’ve been here to see a new day, to wake up in the mornings with nothing but a smile on your face,
you should’ve been here to say another joke,
to kiss your children goodnight, to hear our love as you graced upon that stage.
you should’ve been here because you deserved to be here.

Your memory and spirit is with me no matter where I go,
I’ll remember you through your laughs, and the silly jokes you made.
I’ll remember you for being the hero that saved us when we couldn’t last any longer,
for fighting for so long when you barely held on.
I’ll remember you for the rest of my life,
but right now, it’s so hard to say goodbye.

Seven days,
I miss you so, I love you so.

—Topaz P.

July 27th, 2017; 4:00 am

in the backseat of your rover + mgc

>contains ~ u and mike are both famous in the music industry, and found each other in a hotel bar (contains sex,,, like,,, what do u expect)
>requested ~ yes! by @selflovinalicia​ :) –  hiii can you do a mgc smut that’s like closer by the chainsmokers and Halsey ty
>word count ~ 6.3k oops
requests are sent in here // masterlist 

Singing was all you understood of loving. The microphone held hard in your fist, your hair flying as you jumped around stage, lyrics that you wrote in your bedroom at three in the morning being sang back to you, being made into lockscreens, being made into tattoos. You made an impact on people – whether it was keeping them together before they fade away, or capture them in melodies so they do. It’s everything you wanted and more – to ameliorate, to help, to love – through something as ambiguous and flowing like music.

Wembley Arena. Just four years ago, you were struggling to buy tickets for even the worst seats in the whole venue. Now? People were buying seats for you. The show ended two hours ago, and you insisted on driving your rover back to the hotel. You always took your own car back – there was something about the feelings post-concert that you wanted to respect. It felt like something magical, like the minutes after you finish making love, or kissing someone for the first time. You always wanted to be alone for the first half an hour after a show, and that was exactly how long it took for you to arrive at the hotel.

You wished you didn’t promise Penelope that you would most definitely come to the hotel party after your show to celebrate. When you made the plans, you assumed you would be having a manic reaction – or in other words, bursting with post-show adrenaline and wanting nothing more than to drink drink drink. But, you’re having a fatigue reaction – the absolute opposite, where your muscles ache, and you want to sleep for three days. You’d been touring non-stop, and perhaps it wasn’t the best idea to do that one part of the show where you let the crowd pull you in. The audience? Loved it. Your body? Not so much. Nevertheless, you pushed open your hotel room, pulled out a shirt, and a skirt, and changed in front of the mirror.

You clutched your phone between your cheek and your shoulder as you pulled up your knee socks. “Penny, please don’t start drinking yet.”

You could hear the bursts of a thick drum beat in the background, and you already weren’t excited. Your headache was gonna kill tomorrow morning. She responded above all the music, “Don’t worry, I won’t without you.”

You shoved out of your hotel room and advanced along the corridor, glancing at the doors you passed. Nobody was milling around the corridor like usual – all of them probably at the hotel party. You couldn’t recall whether it was a football game, or whether the Olympics had started already. Time was just a concept for you, then. The time spent in the celebrity world. The time spent in the real world. There was always the time it was the limbo between the two, where you didn’t know how to categorise it. If you learned one thing while on tour, you don’t need to categorise everything.

You stole a glimpse at the bouncer taking the line for the usual guests, and unsurprisingly, a few gasps whispered around. Is that Y/N Y/L/N? Is that really her? You gave them a warm smile, and stood by the bouncer taking the VIP guests. You told him your name and he scanned the clipboard of God knows how many people, before lifting up the velvet rope and letting you in.

Now, you were in the celebrity world. The flashing strobe lights, the glow sticks, the bass matching your heart beat – perhaps, even over taking your heart beat. You could feel the music burn your skin as you moved, and you could almost taste the sweetness of the alcohol you hadn’t even drank. The bittersweet suffocation of people, people, and more people threatened you to lose your breath, but it felt so good, and your fatigue reaction was slowly melting away into manic. You rush over to the VIP gates, hold up the neon wrist band the bouncer fastened on you, and you were in to the second section of the party. It wasn’t much different from the other VIP hotel parties you had been to – swimming pool, cocktails, music, laughter.

A hand landed on your shoulder, and you turned around to see Penelope, a blue flowy button up hanging off her body and a pair of dark jeans. There was a splash of something – probably water from the pool – that darkened her shirt, but then again, the strobe lights definitely played tricks on your eyes.

“Could we get something to drink?” you suggested. “I’m feeling a little unwell.”

“Fatigue reaction?” Penelope asked. You nodded “It’ll wear off. It always does. Does a beer sound good to you?”

You nodded again and you both headed towards the bar. It was a wooden counter perched a few feet from the pool, the drinks flamboyant colours and the cans sorted carefully. You took the seat in the middle of three and Penelope took the third. A cool beer was placed in your fist, and you let the bittersweet drink lull your sore throat and numb your aching muscles. God, how long had it been since you last drank? Probably not after your last break. Now, tour had just finished, and you were happy to say it finished with a bang.

The vacant seat next to you was taken by a boy. He leaned over the counter to pick up a can of Foster’s – which was probably his from a while back. A messy head of red hair was tangled around his neck, and he looked like he just got thrown in the pool. He looked almost like–

“Y/N?”

You and Penelope both looked over at Michael, who sat with his mouth half agape and his eyes surveying your face. You stared at him, trying to see where he changed. Trying to find every part of him that matured since you last saw him.

“Damn, it’s been ages.” You laughed shyly. You hadn’t seen Michael since you left secondary school; it had been four years. “I saw you on TV last night. Your music is sick.”

“I saw you at Wembley literally a couple hours ago!” He punched your arm playfully. “The last time we talked… God, I remember how you would carry a capo to school every day and say it’s your ‘lucky charm’ and everyone thought you were mad.”

“Pretty sure I would’ve dropped out if you didn’t hang out with me.”

“Shut up. You were always the smart one.”

“You say that, and we’re both in the music business. Were we really that smart?”

You both chuckled awkwardly. The lights slanted across Michael’s face, the way the moonlight would when you both would sneak out at midnight and have picnics at the skate park. You remember how he kissed you, his hands clumsily finding yours and your noses bumping and how sloppy and wet it was. But you liked it. It was nostalgic to think of – the memory of a time where you thought of was school and friends and Michael.

“I’m gonna go to the pool. You both have fun.” Penelope patted your hand and disappeared behind the crowd of people.

Michael circled his beer in his hand. You noticed the tattoo on his arms and almost choked. You remembered his sacred vow of never getting a tattoo.

“Penny got hot,” he remarked.

Running your fingers through your hair, you exhaled through your nose. “Yeah, she did.”

Silence lapsed over you both, until he spoke up. “You know… I watch a lot of the old, really crappy covers we used to make when we were, like, fifteen. Like… you were home, and sometimes I like thinking of you and how it felt being close to you.”

Your voice edged to quiet. “Penny lives in London. I don’t really have anyone or anything to keep me rooted on tour.”

“It’s difficult, isn’t it?”

“But I don’t want to say that because…” You bit your lip. “It’s difficult, but it’s a dream come true. You get me?”

He nodded, and you caught the eye of a girl sitting with her legs dipped in the pool. She smiled at you, then at Michael. You recognised her from your show, and you’re surprised she didn’t do anything – until she took her phone out and angled it straight at the two of you.

You turned around quickly, gripping the bar counter tight. “Uh, shit.”

“You okay?” Michael asked.

“There’s a girl taking pictures of us. I’m gonna go back to my car. It’s the rover parked on the far side. Count to thirty before going anywhere.“

”Oh, okay.“ He chuckled and sipped his drink, giving you a nod.

It was much harder to leave the party than to enter it. The VIP section brimmed with people absolutely certain they’ve met you before, and you evaded each person even remotely familiar to leave quicker. The strobe lights left phosphene in your eyes and as you finally walked out into the lobby, your vision was stained with bright, fluorescent colours. A hand touched your shoulder from behind you and you tilt your head up, meeting Michael’s gaze. He managed to catch up to you in the crowd, and between all the people and the absolute terror of somebody throwing up on his shoes, he’s pressed up on your back, following you to your car.

“Right behind you,” he assured, patting your hip to move you both along. A camera shutter ripped out beside you, and you think, ‘well, shit. There’s no going back now’. You continued walking, his hand in yours, when he leaned over, his mouth brushing through the soft hair behind your ear. “You look as good as the day I met you, you know.”

A smile lifted your lips. “I know.”

You moved along, leaving the hotel bar in a mess of hair across your forehead, and Michael’s fingers tangled with yours. He stumbled out behind you, nearly knocking you over. People in the line waiting to be checked by the bouncer stared at the two of you, but you hurried along and out the hotel before anybody could say anything. More shutters followed, but this time, phone shutters. You could just see the headlines on every gossip magazine – Michael Clifford and Y/N Y/L/N – Dating? Your managers would go off on both of you, by tomorrow, you knew, but you pushed the worry aside before it consumed too much.

You hadn’t spoken to each other since you left the hotel, but that didn’t stop the nervous laughter every time someone came up to the two of you, trembling and jutting their iPhone towards you, asking ‘only for a picture’. You did, in fact, take pictures with some of your fans. You knew how much it meant to them to meet their idols, you weren’t there to crush that. Your fatigue reaction dawned on you halfway through, and you cut the meeting short, having to hold onto Michael’s arm to help you stay upright.

“You alright?” he asked again, the chilly night landing in blades on your arms as he held you. “You look exhausted.”

“I am.” You adjusted yourself, so your shoulder didn’t uncomfortably press against his chest. It took you a minute to register how soft and warm his hand was, his palm on yours and your fingers colliding into a messy grip. “I am, I’m sorry. This isn’t the best reunion.” You pointed towards the black rover, the only one in the whole car park. “That’s mine.”

He changed the route he took, walking towards your car, instead. “I get it, performing, then a party, then meeting fans – it’s pretty draining.”

“Tell me about it. I just want to make everyone happy.”

You heard his teeth chatter as he rubs his free hand across your arm, perhaps trying to warm you up himself. His heart beat was right next to your ear. “How so?” he said.

Fishing your keys from your jeans pocket, you unlock the car door, the cool body set flat on the back of your hand as you opened it up. “How so… as in, who I make happy?” you responded, once you were both in the backseat of the car. You fumbled with the heating, your fingers freezing. “Jesus Christ, I’m so cold.”

“Here.” He shrugged off his denim jacket and set it around your shoulders. It was much too big and drooped around your wrists, but you didn’t mind. It smelled vaguely of cologne and hair dye, and the pockets were heavy with whatever he had in them. He was left in a sleeveless Metallica shirt with thick lettering, his pale arms and tattoos fully exposed, now. “And, yeah. Who were you making happy with the party?”

“Penny.” You rubbed your hands together. “The concert was for myself and for the listeners, and the meetings were just for the listeners.” You rested your head on his shoulder. “I love my rover. I love driving, and just sitting here. It calms me down.”

“So that’s why you didn’t go to your hotel room.” Michael laughed, sitting back in the seat and tousling his hair. “I just thought you were gonna leave.”

“God, no, my stuff is in the hotel.”

He smiled at you when you leaned over the car once again to turn on the radio. Closer by The Chainsmokers mumbled through the speakers softly.

A silence played on you both, your head resting on Michael’s shoulder, and his hand on yours. You didn’t mention that you didn’t need him to help you walk anymore, now that you were in the car, because frankly, he smelled good, and his breathing was even and steady, and you missed your best friend from secondary school more than anything. You held onto him like you held onto the memories, because you needed just a little something to root you – to remind you of home.

His voice was soft as he spoke. “Remember when we were… what, sixteen?”

Your cheeks flushed. You knew where this was going. “No.”

He ignored you, a grin splitting his words. “And we went to the skate park…”

“Nope.”

“And then…”

“Don’t say it.”

“we…”

“If I can’t hear it, it never happened.” You put your hands over your ears.

He tugged one off, his lips brushing the soft skin of your ear lobe. You shivered, and not from the cold. “And then we kissed.”

“No!” A blush rose fervently up your neck and across your cheeks, your face hiding into your hands. Your heart was in your throat, and you refused to admit it was partially because you liked the proximity between the two of you. “I hate you. We made a deal to never bring it up.”

His laughter filled the space between you too, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Oh, my God, you were so innocent and soft and small– I can’t breathe,” he panted.

“Shut up.”

“Do you still stutter when you’re nervous?”

You glared at him.

“’M-michael, I haven’t k-kissed anyone b-before. C-c-could you b-be my first k-kiss?’” he mimicked you, and you wanted to die.

“Do you still kiss as bad as you did then?” you snapped, and threw his jacket back at him. Something flared up into your chest, and the moment of sentiment was gone. “Do you remember when you told everyone that I gave you a blowjob when all we did was kiss? Do you remember how everyone called me a slut for a year because of it?” You dug your nails into the plush seats of your car, looking away from him and out of the window. 

He stopped abruptly, and guilt gripped your tongue from saying anything else. You shouldn’t have mentioned it. You wished you could’ve just laughed along, and forgotten about it all. But, you couldn’t. You remembered every incredulous stare your class gave you when somebody shouted it out, you remembered every remark and every brush of touch from everyone who believed it. You stared off at the rows and rows of cars, and bit your lip. This was a bad idea, and you knew it. You shouldn’t have let Michael follow you back to the car.

“Hey, Y/N.” He settled a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t move. “Look at me. Hey.” Two fingers under your chin, he turned your head to face him. “I’m sorry. It was a real dick move for me to do it.”

Sighing, you relaxed back into his arms. “You don’t understand how bad it got.”

“I think about it so much. I think about the sinking feeling in my stomach as I told those guys ‘yeah, Y/N sucked me off’ and how I hated myself so much for doing it.” He set his jaw above your head. “What idiots. What an idiot.” You thought he was talking about one of the people he told, then you realised he was talking about himself.

You remained like that for a while, his hand tangled in your hair and having him hum softly in the car. The heater breathed warmth towards you both, and you closed your eyes. For a minute, you nearly tricked yourself into thinking you both were still at the skate park, and he was hugging you after that terrible, terrible excuse of a kiss. You tricked yourself into thinking you were sixteen again, and you knew you had a massive exam tomorrow, but none of it mattered, because you were with Michael, and he just kissed you. You inhaled, and realised that, no, it wasn’t 2012 anymore, and you weren’t at the skate park, but you were in the backseat of your rover, the night of your final show on tour, still, with Michael.

“I’m sorry for snapping,” you whispered. “I’ve been bottling it up for God knows how long.”

You felt him shake his head. “It’s okay. It’s okay.”

You were quiet for a moment, until, “but really, do you still kiss as bad as you did then?”

He scoffed, pushing you away a little, but not enough to break the bond between your hands. “I didn’t kiss bad! I don’t kiss bad!”

“I don’t believe that for a second.” You licked your lips, raising your eyebrows. A car passed your rover, the headlights illuminating Michael’s face. “I think you’re probably terrible at kissing, and just trying to cover it up.”

He leaned down, bringing your head up so his nose was pressed to yours, and you could feel his breaths burn your upper lip. You heard him swallow, and his lips shone under the dim light in the car. You held him close, cradling his jaw and bringing him even closer than he had brought you. Every part of your body was touching his, except for the aching inch between your mouths.

“I bet you want me to prove it to you, don’t you?” he dared. “You want me to kiss you breathless. You want me to show you how good I am.”

“Kiss me breathless, then,” you said. “Show me how good you are.”

He didn’t have to do much to pull you onto his mouth, just tip you forward a little and – just like that – his lips held yours, soft and gentle, and yet demanding. Demanding for you to tug him closer. Demanding for you to run your hands through his hair. Demanding for you to part your lips. His hand moved to cup the side of your face, then his thumb slid across your neck and behind your ear to bring you in even deeper, while you had your arms flung helplessly around him, indulging yourself in his taste. In his essence. In his being.

You parted for breath, eyes meeting each others’ and his fingers pushing your hair from your face. His one arm held tight on your waist while he kissed you, parting, then letting his tongue brush your mouth. He pressed love between your lips with every kiss, with every touch, he pressed love between your lips as he shifted to have you on his lap, his back against the seat, and your head nearly hitting the top of the car. You could hear your heavy breaths, and the taste of the beer you had lingered in your mouth. Or was that the beer Michael had? You couldn’t tell. Anybody outside wouldn’t be able to see where you started and where he ended. You were all hands and kissing and fast hearts.

His crotch was warm with your thighs on either side of him, his hips sturdy and wide with his stomach pressed on yours. His hand moved from your waist to your calf, running his thumb across your soft skin. He didn’t move farther than where the ends of your skirt met, he wouldn’t unless you wanted him to.

“Mikey,” you whispered, pulling back and resting your forehead against his shoulder. You indeed were breathless, but you needed more. You needed him and all of him, right then and there. You kissed his jaw, sponging soft and timid pecks up to his ear, not wanting to get anything wrong. Your hands found his, and they held yours tight. His Adam’s apple bobbed near your cheek when you ran your bottom lip by his ear lobe. “You’re making me weak.”

He groaned, the feeling of your kisses travelling back down his neck, then your eyes meeting his, big and round and just as he remembered. “Speak for yourself. Every fibre of my body is begging for you.”

“Begging for what?”

“Begging to touch you. I need to–” He groaned again, just as you parted from a fresh hickey bruising up his throat. “Management’s gonna kill me,” he said, then chuckled. “I need to feel my hips finding yours, and the skin of your stomach, and the curve of your neck. I need to love you, I need to make up for all these years of dreaming of you and thinking of how good it’d feel to be with you.”

Picking yourself away from him, you lie across the backseat, spreading your legs across the expanse between the front seats and the ones your hips balanced on, exposing your black lace underwear beneath your skirt. You put it on as a confidence booster – you always wear lace before you go on stage. You never had thought they’d come in any use, other than for yourself. 

“Come on,” you whispered at his surprise. “Touch me. Make love to me.”

The door pressed between your shoulder blades as you tried leaning back further, while Michael stared at you, his lip between his teeth and his right hand sliding up your left thigh. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back, the warmth of his palm spilling up your skirt. You reached down to touch the bare skin of his upper arm as he kissed you from your knees, his hands still moving up your skirt and his mouth trailing along with it. You breathed in, the closeness between the two of you radiating towards your chest. Once his nose bumped at the end of your skirt, he tugged it down to your ankles, then continued kissing up along your thighs.

“So pretty,” he hummed on your skin, his mouth capturing the tender part of your inner thigh with a harsh suck. You sighed, tensing your lower half and running your fingers through his hair. “Such a pretty girl.” 

You whined, fingers splayed behind you and onto the cold window. You could hear a couple cars from afar pulling out of the driveway, and blink-182 tuned around from the radio, that song Bored to Death, or something. You couldn’t tell; your head was swimming in MichaelMichaelMichael. His mouth shifted so it pressed hotly between your legs, right over you clit on top of your underwear. Heat spread in that space, under his lips and his tongue teasing you through your clothes, making the lace wet with his own spit. Looking down, a gasp caught in your throat, you saw his eyes training your expression, apprehending a reaction to what he was doing. His cheeks were flushed, his hair tousled from having you touch it so much.

He snapped the waistband of your underwear against your thigh, relishing the whimper it elicited through your lips.

“Please,” you said softly. “Please take it off.”

Smiling, he tugged it off slowly, the fabric dragging along your legs, along with his callused fingers. Licking his lips, he set a hand on your thigh, his thumb achingly close to where you needed him most. He cupped your heat in his palm, working carefully over and making sure you enjoyed it all. It warmed up your centre, your head lolling back onto the window as he sat with your legs around his waist and his thumb rubbing your hardening clit. Blush rose from your neck to your cheeks, again, when it hit you that you were lying flush across your car seat with Michael seeing you at one of your most vulnerable points – with your sex undressed for him to touch and see, and your body at his fingertips. You couldn’t believe this was the boy who held your hand when you went on a roller coaster, or threw pieces of his lunch at you during school. He dragged his index finger up your core, spreading the wetness there was up to your clit to help your pleasure.

“Jesus Christ, you’re good with your fingers,” you said, your eyes opening briefly to see the ceiling of your car, before closing them again. You feel him pause for a moment, then looked at him, apprehending what he’d to next. His fingers found his mouth, licking saliva onto the tips. It left a string of spit between his middle finger and his mouth, which he pursed his lips to get rid of. Your centre tingled. “God, you look so hot, Mikey.”

“I wish you could see yourself,” he murmured, halfway on the edge of a moan. The pad of his middle finger rubbed up your clit, jolting your body up and grinding your hips onto him. He pushed your shirt up, letting it fall below your bra. He kissed your belly, his finger moving harder against your sensitive bud. “Mm, you’re so wet already. I can’t wait to fuck you.”

Your stomach tightened as he spoke, and you pulled him in with your legs surrounding his hips. He leaned up, your lips melting together into a hot kiss, his hand still between your thighs and yours now on his stocky shoulder. Your chest met his as you arched your back, breaking the kiss for a moment to moan into the column of his throat. For a minute, you zoomed out on everything. You saw yourself lying between Michael and the car seat, your clothes half off messily, while his still dressed him. You saw the denim jacket tossed on the floor, and his fingers wet from your arousal. Just the rush of being caught by someone drove you forward. A part of you wanted this on the headlines, for everyone to know how he ravaged you.  At the same time, you wanted to keep it a secret. You wanted this to be scandalous, a quiet meeting in the dead of night to drown in each others’ bodies.

“You know how I’m gonna fuck you, hmm?” he teased, breaking away from your lips and kissing your jaw. “I’m gonna fuck you into this car seat, so you’re pretty mouth is just hanging open from how good I’m making you feel, and I’m filling you up with my thick, thick cock.” He grabbed your hand and lead it to his jeans. He edged you to unzip them, and soon enough, your fingers were pressed to the warm bulge pulsing behind his boxers. “You feel that, baby? You feel how hard I am for you?”

Sitting up, you knock Michael’s hand away from your sex, which left your clit feeling bothered with the lack of contact. You kept your hand on his boxers, palming him and feeling the rush of tightness hitting the fabric. He emitted a low sound, wrinkling up his nose and his lips narrowing to shape a soft moan. He was almost louder than the radio, and definitely louder than the heater, and your stomach was in flips as he slid his hand back between your thighs and lifted a finger inside you. Gasping and shivering, you met his eyes and smiled shyly, because Jesus Christ it’s so intense just looking at him through this.

“Keep telling me how you’re gonna fuck me,” you said, and took a stuttering breath when his finger curled up into you.

Pushing away his boxers, you had him in your grasp – the tip swollen and red and throbbing against your wrist. The blood was rushed all along his cock, leaving it warm right between your hands. Michael licked his lips and closed his eyes tight, bucking up his hips as you brought your palm all the way down to his base. He sighed, then held his breath, then sighed again. His mouth was flushed from kissing it so much, and he tasted so fucking sweet when you went in for more. He held your hips in his hands, slipping his thumbs into your top, and composed what he could of himself.

“Do you get off by hearing what I’m gonna d-do to you, huh?” He leaned backwards so he was lying down, his finger pumping into you even faster than before, and giving you leverage to touch him underneath his shirt. His midriff was smooth and soft, leading up to the light contours of his chest, and back to the trail of hair leading to his groin. He took a sharp breath as you rounded your thumb on his tip. “God, I can feel how tight you are around my fingers. I’m gonna stretch you out so good, aren’t I, Y/N?” 

You didn’t respond, letting his words rain on you and soak into your head. You flattened the inside of your thumb against the protruding vein on him, sliding it up and down. His cheeks blushed dark and he furrowed his eyebrows, eyes tapering onto your face, having it illuminated by the street lights outside the car. He tilted your chin down, cupping your jaw with his free hand. He traced your cheekbones carefully, daring you with parted lips.

“Tell me, baby. Tell me how you feel right now.”

You lifted your hips up a little, to make it easier for him to finger you, when he slammed his digits against your pelvis, hitting the sensitive space inside you. You threw your head back, letting out a brazen moan and grinding down onto him. He had a strong hold onto your waist, keeping you high enough to keep his pumps even. The intensity made you grip onto him tighter, causing him to tremble.

“Michael– Fuck, keep doing that,” you mumbled, taking your hand away from him for a moment to pull off your top. It was too sweaty, keeping it along your torso, and now you had your dark lace bra flush against your skin. Michael’s eyes widened, and he unclipped it from behind, helping you pull it off your shoulders. You felt his cock twitch in your hand. “Mikey, are you close? Please don’t cum, not yet.” You sighed, gripping onto his shirt. “Please, please, please. I need to feel you fill me up.”

His lips pursed as he took his fingers out of you, making you release him in surprise. He sat up, now, pulling his Metallica shirt over his head and introducing himself to the dim car light. You immediately went over and kissed him – from his mouth, to his jaw, to his neck, to his chest. His sweat dampened your hands as they roamed him, and he grabbed you by the waist, and kissed you again. Once on the lips. Twice on the lips. One on the shoulder. Your senses were overwhelmed – you could taste every bit of his tongue, you could smell the lust leaving your bodies, you could feel how close you were just to release, you couldn’t ignore your beating hearts and heavy breaths.

He stroked a bit of hair from your face. “Condom?”

“I’m on the pill.”

“You sure you want to do this?”

“Of course.” You set your palms on his shoulders, lifting your hips up again to let him guide his cock to your entrance. Your knees were pressed against either side of him on the car seats, and you waited for the presence of him to throb inside you. Except, he didn’t do that. He took himself in his hand, and dragged his tip across your clit, bringing you to an annoyed moan that jumped a burst of unmet satisfaction to your finger tips. “No games,” you purred in his ear, nipping at his lobe.

“No games,” he chuckled, and pushed his entire length into you. 

He filled you completely, thick and pulsing and deliciously long. You went to bounce up on him, but he grabbed your hips, stilling you.

“Wait,” he said into your hair, breath coursing along your skin. “If you move, I’m gonna cum. Give me a second to adjust.” He inhaled deeply, digging his nails into your back. “God, you’re so wet. Who made you this wet?”

You bit your lip, circling your hips around to try and push into your G-Spot. You stopped with a sharp exhale as his hand smacked onto your ass.

“I’m not gonna ask again, Princess – who made you so wet, you’re soaking my cock?”

Humming, you let him lie back and loomed over him. “You did, Michael. You made me this wet.”

“That’s a good girl.” He hissed through his teeth as you began to ride him, licking his bottom lip. You leaned over, so you were nearly lying on top of him yourself, with your face buried in the crook of his neck, and his tip wonderfully stroking your intensity. His fingers wandered up your spine, tugging at your hair gently. “Am I making you feel good? Do you want me to do anything else?” His voice was soft, melting your heart with his honey-slicked words.

“My clit,” you said, hushed, as if there was anybody else to hear. Your stomach contracted with every slip between your thighs. You took his hand, kissed the back of it, then moved it through the thin space occupying between your bodies. He went for it without hesitation, the heel of his palm digging into your lower stomach. His bracelets would probably leave marks on your skin, you knew, but it was the best thing to have the remnants of him lying across the canvas of you. A bullet of delight racked you. “There,” you whispered. “R-right there.”

The delight forced you to contract your walls around him, making him hold you closer to him. You could tell he was trying to be as gentle as he could, hugging you close so your chests were pressed together and you could find solace into the column of his neck. The way he combed your hair from your face and rode you out into whimpers. But, he was fucking up into you as much as he could, reaching the tightness he needed. He rubbed your clit faster, and you felt your cheeks burn and your breaths shortening.

“Fuck, Michael…” Your head dipped closer to him. “I think–”

“Let go, Y/N. Cum all over me.” 

You trembled, then let out a single, final moan to signify your release. He bucked his hips up to meet yours in a last thrust, and you felt something hot dribble down your thigh as you lifted yourself from him. There was a sense of fulfilment in your heart, now that you both climaxed after the best sex you’d had in who knows how long. There was the aroma of sweaty sex and unspoken lust in between the two of you. There was that moment, that moment where you wanted to appreciate everything – like you did with your concerts. The adrenaline rushed down from your veins and wore you out; you collapsed on top of Michael’s chest, listening to his heart beat calm down.

He found your hand, and linked your fingers together. “You’re so beautiful. That was amazing. You were brilliant.” He was out of breath, gasping through sentences.

You smiled, nuzzling your nose into him and peppering light kisses all over his skin. 

Then, you realised you had nothing to clean yourself up with.

“We didn’t think this through,” you whined, parting your thighs to give yourself air. 

“Ssh, that’s something different. We’ll sort it out later. Just let me hold you.”

You turned around again, wrapping your arms around his sticky body. Another song was on the radio now, Sex by The 1975. The heater finally could be heard underneath your soft sighs. You reached up, and turned off the light in your car, so the only thing you could use to see were the street lamps. You lifted your hand to run it through Michael’s hair, then touched the side of his face, staring up at his green eyes. 

“I don’t want this to end,” he told you.

“Neither do I.”

You both kissed, soft and sweet, and clumsy.

“Let me take you out for dinner,” he said, kissing your cheek. “Let’s see what happens from there.”

Your chest warmed up. “I’d love that.”

Another (Failed) Wedding Later

“We are gathered together today, to celebrate the unity between Mikaela Tepes and Ichinose Yuuichirou in marriage.” He solemnly says. “It is the joining of love between two—“ he pauses. Kids? Toddlers? “Persons and best friends of each other. Now, Yuu may say his vow.”


Notes

My eldest nephew has started to attend kindergarten and I’m so proud (because he’s taller than anyone in his class. That kid escaped the short genes in my family) and also sad because I remembered when he was just a lil’ baby who squealed everytime I heartedly sang him Creep by Radiohead.


“Today is a special day of the joining of marriage between Ichinose Yuuichirou and Mikaela Tepes.” Shinya stops to think for a moment. Honestly, he doesn’t remember what the officiant should say. Since even in his own wedding, Shinya was too busy blowing kisses to Guren’s reddening face. “Yuu, please say your marriage vow for Mika.”

Yuu puffs his chest. “Mika.” His jaw tight, looking at Mika’s adoring eyes with such determination. “I promise to be always with you, even when you’re sick—like last week when you vomited. I’ll share my desert with you because I love you, and we will play together forever. I promise.”

Shinya refrains the urge to squeal. It’s honestly the cutest thing, seeing his son—whose serious face in contrast with his high-pitched voice—standing there before his best friend—or groom—saying that he will share his desert. Shinya knows it’s true love, Yuu never lets anyone touches his desert ever.

“Your turn, Mika—“ He stops lamely. They told Shinya shouldn’t put -chan in their names because they’re grown-ups and going to be married, or so they said.

“Yuu-chan…” Shinya rolls his eyes, and here Mika still calls Yuu-chan. “Me too. I’ll play with you forever and ever! And share my toys with you, and—and—everything!” Mika sniffs, looking every bit like an overwhelmed grown-up groom in their wedding.

Keep reading

Patient- Learning More *Andy Biersack Imagine*

[Again, this part of Patient contains some mentions of abuse assault, and other triggering themes. If you feel that you may be triggered, DO NOT READ.]

So… What was really going on with Andy? After all of this time you have cared for him, but never really knew about him prior to living here. The medications he had to take were obvious; They were all for Anxiety, Depression, Insomnia, Bipolar disorder and so on. His medications told you something about him, but not what made him this way. Surely he wasn’t born with all of it, or any of it for that matter.

The only way to find out was to snoop around and look for documents that you knew that were prohibited. They weren’t for other staff members, just building administrators. Locating these things wouldn’t be difficult, since you knew that you boss never locked his office door and kept very important information in plain sight. He was very careless.

Sneaking into the tiny office, you force open the jam packed filing cabinet. Old folders were mixed in with new ones, which was not very orderly at all. Carefully, your nimble fingers pick through each one, observing names until you find Andy’s.

“BIERSACK, ANDREW” The label read.

You pulled it out carefully to make sure that you didn’t ruin the others. The folder was quite full and many of the papers looked very old, perhaps all the way back from his adolescence.

Sitting down on the creaky office chair, you turn on the lamp and start to look through. You took a deep breath, knowing that you may see anything and everything.

The beginning pages were his legal forms from the institution, stating his inpatient number, room number, prescribed medications, etc. Basically things that you already knew. Skipping ahead, you found old court documents that had been dismissed, due to his mental illness. The cases were all linked to homicides, abductions, assaults, sexual assaults, and attempted murder. These were all things that he had been convicted of, but excused of.

But why? Many of the documents were dead end. No further evidence or conduct, which made you feel suspicious. Wouldn’t he have pleaded innocent?

Enough of the criminal records. You skimmed through those, finding his juvenile records. His name, date of birth, and addresses were all listed. Everything except one.

“LEGAL GUARDIAN(s)-UNKNOWN”

He didn’t have parents?

This is where you found what you may have been looking for. Tons of instances on record showing that he was victimized far more than he’s (allegedly) made others.

There were reports written by him specifically of things that have happened. The papers have all been worn away and stained, as if tears once fell on them. Your heart throbbed in pain as you read through one of his reports.

It was about a time when he was sexually assaulted.

From what you could make out, he was seventeen at the time and out on his own. As the description gets deeper, his handwriting got messier. You imagined him being scared and traumatized, being told to relive a horrific event and write it out on paper.

Here’s what didn’t make sense; you’ve found many others of him describing when he’d been beaten, neglected, and forced to do unruly “favors” of family members, but no trace of his parents?

So, from what you’ve gathered, he was abused as a child so badly that it drove him to kill. He reflected what had been done to him upon others. He didn’t have stable living conditions, which resulted in him being forced to spend days locked in closets, rooms, or to live in a shed outdoors full of power tools and harmful devices.

When he was of use, it wasn’t for any sort of skill, such as a job. He was “sold” from person to person, for them to do as they pleased with him.

A human being shouldn’t be sold by their supposed loved ones as a sexual item.

You felt nauseous reading what he had to say. You set the things aside, holding your head in your hands.

Someone knocks at the door.

“Who is it?” You say nervously, going to hide your evidence.

“It’s me, Nurse (Y/N).” Andy says.

You settle back down into the chair, relieved that you weren’t about to get caught.

“Come in!” You tell him.

Andy comes in with a lollipop in his mouth. He probably took it from your desk on his way to find you.

You smile as he sits down across from you. He looks at the desk, noticing his file out on display.

“You know about me, huh?” He asks.

You nod. “You’re not mad, are you.”

He shakes his head. “Can I see?”

You stop him while he’s reaching for the folder. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, I want to see.” He says.

Andy flips through the papers. He doesn’t seem disturbed or upset. Maybe because he’s used to stuff like this by now.

“I remember this one.” He says, pulling the dingy paper out of its place.

“Are you comfortable talking about it?”

“Yeah.” He breathes. “This man I knew, he said that he loved me, so I ran away with him. I wasn’t sure if I liked boys or girls. I was confused..”

You place your hand over his hand, rubbing his knuckles.

Andy continues “He took me far away and said he’d make sure I’d never be poor, that I would have a job, as long as I did what he told me to do.”

You nod, listening to him.

“My job was to let other friends of his do bad things to me… I couldn’t tell them to stop or else he’d beat me.” Andy sighs, remembering vividly. “I there were days where I couldn’t leave my bed because I was so beaten up.”

“You don’t have to go on.” You say. “But you’ve never talked about this before, have you?”

“Never.” Says Andy. “And I’m still confused. I don’t know what I like, but I do know that I love you.”

You stand up, hugging him from across the desk. “If you ever want or need to talk about this, I’m always here.” You whisper.

His documents are put away, and you leave your boss’ office. This evening, you had a plan for the two of you.

“Let’s go somewhere.” You take his hand.

There was an outpatient sheet where you knew you could fake permission to “excuse” Andy for an evening activity. All you had to do was forge your boss’ initials on the sheet and you were welcome to take him on the “activity.”

You just knew that when you returned, the sheet had to have been “lost” so no one will ever know who went in or out for the day.

Why didn’t you think of this sooner? Sure, it was illegal, but so was convicting someone without full evidence. It’s a win-win situation.

Signing out, you take Andy to your car, driving towards town. You knew of a place that wasn’t super private, but not overly crowded like the city.

“Where are you taking me?” Andy asks.

“To get pizza!” You say.

“Really?!” He gasps.

For the first time in a very long time, he’d get to eat real food. Not flavorless, pre-cooked mental hospital food.

“I love pizza!” He says.

“I thought you loved sweets?” You giggle.

“I do! I have my sweets right here!” He puts his hand over your knee.

You park in front of the small diner. Andy unbuckles his seatbelt, you pull him into a kiss. His nose smooshed against yours, kissing you back.

He pulls away, with a sparkly smudge from your lipgloss over his lips.

Laughing, you wipe it away with your thumb, then leading him inside. You’re seated and place your orders, waiting to be served.

Andy moves closer to you, rubbing your thigh. He crawls over you, planting a kiss on your lips, but this time it was deep and drawn out. His tongue worked with yours slow and tenderly. You snake your arm around the back of his neck, keeping him close.

It’s a good thing that your booth was private.

Andy leans away, licking his lips. He sits back down, leaving you dazed from your make out.

The waiter comes by and serves you your food. You both eat and enjoy each other’s company, like a real date.

And it definitely was a real date.

You picked at the weird looking vegetables on your plate, unsure of what to do with them. They weren’t the best looking, but you didn’t like to waste food, either.

“Eat it.” Andy says, raising his eyebrow. He imitated the way you treated him when he didn’t want to eat the vegetables on his plate.

It was cute.

You playfully pout, testing what he’ll do next.

“If you don’t eat them, I’ll feed to you myself.” He says.

“Would you?!” You bite your lip, suppressing a smile.

Andy picks up your fork, sticking it through one of the veggies. He holds it towards your mouth.

“Open.”

You do so, biting the green food. It wasn’t that bad, really. Going to take your fork, back, Andy pulls it away.

“No! I want to feed you!” He kisses your forehead. You let him. He feeds you different foods from his plate and yours, gazing at your bashfulness. Never have you had someone who treats you the way Andy does. He wants to give back the care and attention you give him.

“I’m full!” You rest your head on his shoulder. Andy laces his finger with yours.

You then pay the bill and leave. The parking lot was empty, other than your car. Andy leads you behind the restaurant, which was in a small alley. He pushed you against the wall, hoisting you around his waist. He planted kisses over your chest, neck, and up to you face.

“One day” he breathes, leaving a sloppy kiss over the corner of your mouth “I want to do this in our bedroom. I think about it all the time.”

“Me too” you muffle between kisses.

“I’m not crazy, (Y/N).” Andy nuzzles the crook of your neck. “But you make it hard for me to behave. Especially for you.”

“Yeah?” You say, playing with his hair.

“The things we could do..” Andy smiles against your skin. “No one has to know.”

“When was the last time you’ve-”

“I can’t remember” he interrupts. “What about you?”

“It was a long time ago.” You explain. “But that’s another story.”

Andy puts you down. You take his hand, dragging him back to your car.

“If you ever want to, just tell me.” Andy smirks.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to remember that.” You roll your eyes sarcastically.

Andy slaps your ass and spins you around, bringing you in.

“Seriously.” He says low and husk, grabbing your ass.

“Andy!” You chuckle, surprised at his actions.

He winks, then becomes the innocent sweetheart that he usually is.

Just One Day (Kai x You)

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: 2,501

Note: Pure Kai fluff for all of you! ^^ This is just a drabble without really any specific plot. Since I’ve been writing so much angst (as usual), I thought, why not? I wrote this while I had writer’s block, so it may have come out a bit awkward ;A;.

~~

“Just one day, one night.”

The clicking of keys is all that sounds in the compact room.

You hear the door swing open and low grunting as your boyfriend lumbers into the apartment from work. Although you want to spare a side glance and flash him a warm smile, time is ticking and you have an important report due within a few days. You chuckle softly to yourself, hearing his loud yawns, your eyes never leaving the glowing screen of the computer in front of you.

You feel a pair of warm arms wrap around you from behind and a prominent chin rest upon your shoulder. “You’re back,” you hum.

Only the sound of his soft breathing is heard in response.

“You should go to bed,” you say. “You have to leave early for work tomorrow.”

Jongin smiles against the soft skin of your neck, before humming, “I don’t have work tomorrow.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “How are you going to spend your day?”

He spins you around in your chair and slides the thin-framed glasses off your face, before planting a kiss on the tip of your nose and murmuring, “With you.”

“If I had one day to myself,

I want to sleep like a baby,

Drunken by your sweet scent.”

Light trickles between the crevice of the curtains fluttering over the window and spills over the bed, where your two bodies lie intermingled. The soft beeping of your alarm clock stirs you awake, and your arm reaches out to shut the horrid thing off. You heave a sigh, for it can only mean one thing- you have another day of work.

You reach out to find your glasses, until Jongin’s arms encircle your waist and pull you away from the nightstand. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath tickling your skin.

“It’s too early to be up,” he murmurs, probably still half-asleep. “I don’t have any work today.”

“But I do,” you respond, attempting to wriggle free from his strong grasp. “I didn’t even finish my report because you dragged me to bed last night, remember?”

“One sick day won’t hurt,” he suggests.

“But Jongin-”

“If there’s a chance in my packed schedule,

I want to place my body in your warm, deep eyes.”

“Please?” he pouts. “Stay in bed with me?”

Although you have work, you can feel the smirk on his face because he knows you can never resist his pouts and puppy-eyed looks.

“Fine,” you sigh.

A dumb grin stretches across Jongin’s face when he’s won, and you begin squirming as he begins placing light kisses along your jawline and down your neck.

“It tickles,” you giggle, as he relentlessly smothers you with kisses and presses light touches to your skin.

You gasp in surprise, however, when he brings your chin up with a slender finger and his lips meet yours in an unexpected kiss. You feel a dark blush settle across your cheeks and reddening your skin as his lips move away.

You’re confused for a moment, when the warmth of his body moves away and hovers over you as he searches the nightstand for something. You’re even more confused when he grabs your phone and places it in your hands.

You raise an eyebrow at him.

“You still haven’t called in sick.”

“I like that,

When you tie up your long, straight hair,

Your breathtaking neck and strands that fall out.”

Pouty lips and chocolate eyes gaze up at you. The faint whirring of coffee machines and the low murmurs of people over steaming cups of espresso almost hum you into a daze. Jongin watches as you prop your chin on one arm, squinting unamusedly through the glare of your glasses as you scroll through page after page of your report.

He carefully follows your hands as they travel behind your neck and along your hair. A smile plays on his lips when you pull your hair up into a messy ponytail.

He had always loved it when you put your hair up.

He chuckles at the bright pink that flushes your cheeks when he reaches out and tucks a stray plume of hair behind your hair.

“People are watching,” you hiss.

“I know.”

As one of your hands flitters over the keyboard of your laptop, Jongin reaches out and takes the other one in his hands. “When I said I wanted to come out, this isn’t what I meant,” he whines.

“I thought you hated going out?”

“Yeah, but I finally have a day off,” he repeats. “I want to spend it doing stuff with you, not watching you work.”

You roll your eyes and grumble about how clingy he is, all while he begins planting a kiss to each of your fingers. Your eyes widen and shriek “Jongin!” a bit too loudly when he gently closes your laptop closed.

“You’re lucky that my report is automatically saved,” you grumble.

When you reach to open your laptop, Jongin slides your laptop into its case and wraps his fingers around yours.

“Let’s go,” he chimes, before pulling you out the door of the cafe.

“Wherever we go together,

My handbag is your waist.

You’re my honey,

My breathing stops each time I look at you.”

“You can let go of me.”

“No.”

“It’s not even that crowded,” you pout. “We can just hold hands.”

But Jongin is stubborn and the literal epitome of a clingy boyfriend, so of course, it’s no surprise when his arm keeps a tight hold on your waist. Myeongdong is bustling with people, so many people that your body is pressed against Jongin as to not get separated and swallowed whole by the crowd.

The streets are filled with the patter of footsteps and the scent of sugar from a nearby vendor. The steady stream of loud chatter from swarms of people and soft music drifts through the air. Jongin loves taking you to Myeongdong- the crowd gives him an excuse to hold your body tightly against his. Not to mention, he loves having the chance to show you off.

As you stroll through the streets, a man brusquely steps out of a building and an elbow prods you in the waist and causes you to teeter to the side. Jongin catches you and steadies you on your feet.

“Watch where you’re going,” a sharp voice snaps.

“What did you say?” Jongin suddenly asks, a menacing look flashing across his eyes. You nudge him, gesturing him to keep moving and not cause a commotion on the streets. “Apologize to her. Now,” Jongin growls, glaring fiercely at the man who had carelessly ran into you.

The man visibly flinches- he goes red in the face and becomes a bumbling mess at Jongin’s sudden ferocity. A crowd forms, and the man begins collecting oppressive stares from the people that surround him. “Fine,” the man grumbles, “I’m sorry.”

The crowd dissolves as the man disappears into a store, rambling something about “stupid couples these days.”

You smack Jongin on the shoulder, as you complain, “You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“I know, but that man was rude and no one can treat my girlfriend like that,” he says, snaking his arm around your back and to your waist.

“That was embarrassing,” you murmur, cheeks flushing.

“At least no one knows to mess with you,” Jongin smiles, tracing patterns onto your waist with his fingers.

“Like the streets of Myeongdong,

Our background music is the sound of breathing.”

“I’m hungry,” Jongin whines.

“Alright, alright,” you sigh, “I’m trying to decide what to get.”

“Just choose anything!”

Jongin hisses when you pinch his inner arm, scolding him to be quiet as your eyes scan over the display of food at the supposedly reputable food stand you had recommended to him. He sighs in relief when you decide on something and bashfully call the vendor to your attention. The young man behind the stand flashes you a beaming smile and nonchalantly ruffles his hair, before asking, “What would you like?”

Jongin rolls his eyes at the young vendor as you timidly bite your lip and point your finger in the direction of seemingly appetizing snacks. The vendor tells a joke, causing you to burst into silvery laughter. Jongin notices how the vendor holds your gaze for a second too long when he hands you the food and flashes you a wink, before pointing to a series of numbers scribbled on your receipt and mouthing, “Call me.”

Immediately feeling a wave of jealousy and possessiveness wash over him, Jongin gazes at you as you take a bite of your food. You’re about to offer some to Jongin, until he says, “You have something on your lip.”

Jongin brushes your hand away from your face, using his thumb to gently swipe the corner of your lip and leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. He has to hold back a smirk at the vendor’s baffled expression, as you cover your face with your sleeve and shriek, “Jongin, we’re in public!”

“What?” he asks innocently. “I love showing you off.”

With his hunger pushed to the back of his mind, Jongin presses his hand to the small of your back and maneuvers you through the crowd. He nuzzles his nose into your hair, smiling to himself as he watches you eat.

“You know, you don’t have to pounce on every guy that interacts with me,” you say.

“What kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

“I want to be locked in and swim in your voice when you call my name.

I want to know you more.”

Your vision washes over rings of glimmering silver and precious jewels, admiring the curve of the metal and imagining how pretty it would look on your finger.

“These look expensive,” you mutter, pressing your fingers into Jongin’s arm.

“It’s alright,” Jongin assures. “Spending a little money on couple rings is no problem. Choose one.”

Although your lips are pursed, Jongin follows your line of vision to a pair of delicate silver rings with swooping engravings along the curve. Although you don’t tell him, you have to admit, you would love to wear those rings and boast about Jongin to your coworkers.

“We’ll take these two,” Jongin announces to the cashier, pointing a finger in the direction of the rings.

He gives you a reassuring smile as he fishes out his brown leather wallet and hands the cashier his card.

The evening air is cool, but you can feel a certain warmth spreading to your cheeks when Jongin reaches for your hands and slides on the delicate silver ring. He does the same with his own hand, smiling brightly as he sees the rings adorning your hands.

“You can boast to your coworkers about me,” Jongin says. You can feel his smug attitude in the air when he smirks and remarks, “Tell them your very loving boyfriend got this ring just for you.”

“You and your smug attitude,” you mutter. “You know I hate it when you smirk.”

“No, you love it when I smirk,” he concludes with such confidence that you can only scoff. He makes no haste in grabbing your hands and tugging lightly at them. “Come on,” he urges.

“Where are we going?”

“There’s still one more place we have to go.”

“An explorer who ventures deep into your forest of mystery,

I appreciate the artwork that is you,

Because your existence alone is art.”

Familiar dim lights and cedarwood tales surround you. Impatient fingers drum against the smooth wooden tabletop, as strands of hair fall over your eyes. The familiar scent of grilled meat and warm bread drifts through the air, and you remember your very first date with Jongin, at the same restaurant.

Your attention is diverted to Jongin when he softly calls your name.

You turn your head to him, eyes widened in a questioning manner and lips somewhat pouted. You’re utterly surprised however, when you face the flash of the camera on his phone rather than his face. A light blush settles across your cheeks when he examines the picture, setting it as his phone background.

“Pretty, right?” he chuckles, showing his phone screen to you.

Your hair’s slightly unkempt, you’re completely caught off guard, and the lighting is terrible, but Jongin is absorbed in the picture, admiring it and etching it into his mind, as if he’s falling in love with you all over again.

“No,” you pout. “I don’t like it! I wasn’t even ready. Take another one, if you’re going to set it as your phone screen.”

“But I like it,” Jongin says. “Even when you’re completely unaware of the camera, you look beautiful.”

But Jongin’s smile twitches into a frown, and his eyebrows furrow together.

“Something wrong?” you ask.

“I have to go back to work tomorrow,” Jongin sighs, “and I don’t know when we’ll be able to do this again. One day isn’t enough.”

“You’ll live,” you assure him. “That’s how it’s always been, Jongin. You endure long periods of practice and when you finally make a comeback, you’ll have time to yourself, time with me.”

Your hands reach for his, and your fingers intertwine with his.

“I may have complained a lot today,” you say, “but in all honesty, I’m so thankful that we had one day together, Jongin. Since you’re always so busy, even just one day is so precious to me.”

“This one day?”

You nod.

“Really?”

You erupt into uncontrollable smiles, and that’s the last image Jongin sees.

“I imagine this every night,

Since this just a pointless dream.”

An elbow nudges Jongin in the ribs and continues to prod him until he awakens. His light snoring subsides and his eyelids lug apart.

“We’re here,” his manager says.

“What?” Jongin mutters, wiping the trail of drool along his chin with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“We arrived at the practice building,” his manager repeats. “You fell asleep during the car ride.”

Jongin groans and runs an exasperated hair through his tangled mop of hair.

It had all been a dream.

As he’s about to get off the car, he’s startled by his phone vibrating in his pocket. He fishes it out and reads the message on the screen.

You: You’re probably missing me right now, am I right? I miss you too. Remember to eat well and don’t overwork yourself! We’ll hang out when you have a day off, alright? Love you <3

Jongin sighs, the image of you pressing a kiss to his cheek and intertwining your fingers with his all too clear in his mind. As he heaves his tired body out of the van, he wishes for nothing more than just one day to be with you.

“If I could be with you for just one day,

If I could hold your hand for just one day,

If I could be with you for just one day,

Just one day.”

Winter has a heart

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Bucky x reader where the reader always tries to talk to Bucky and get him to be apart of the team but he never replies to her and walks away. Deep down Bucky appreciates her efforts and one morning he panics when he didn’t hear the reader greet him like they always do. He finds out that the reader got the flu and that she’s in the infirmary and decides to stay by her side until they feel better.

It was Friday night and that meant movie night in the avengers compound. Tony had insisted on having some sort of activity the entire team could enjoy. Of course some of the team members suggested different activities but no one could agree unit you suggested movie night.

Tonight’s featured film was big hero 6 and ironically Tony was the most excited about seeing this movie. Just as you were getting comfortable on the couch with Thor and Clint you noticed Bucky walking into the room.

“Hey Bucky are you going to join us for movie night?” you smiled at him

He just gave you a cold look before he walked out of the room.

“I honestly don’t know why you’re still trying to include him in stuff. He always glares at you before he walks away.” Tony grumbled as he got comfortable on his couch.

Tony absolutely hated the way Bucky treated you. You would go out of your way to include him in stuff and he would just glare at you before walking away. You didn’t take it personal though, you knew his past so you didn’t blame him for having such a tough exterior.

Steve on the other hand had always told you that he appreciated that you tried to include his best friend in stuff. He knew that everyone else was over the whole trying to be nice and include him in stuff but you weren’t. You would always greet him in the morning with a smile.

“Because it’s the polite thing to do Tony. And I’m going to continue to ask him to join us even if he ignores the invitation every time.” you replied “do you want some?”

“Oh yes” Tony smiled at you as he got some of your candy “this is why you’re my favorite and Barnes doesn’t deserve your kindness.”

Little did everyone know Bucky was listening to everything they were saying about him. He couldn’t believe that after all that he has done you were still sticking up for him. You never had a negative thing to say about him and he hated the fact that he was falling in love with you. He thought that he didn’t deserve your love and kindness so he would act cold towards you.

Letting out a sigh Bucky made his to his room and watched a movie by himself.

*the next day*

You knew it was going to be a shitty day the moment you woke up. You felt clammy and nauseous.

“Oh fuck” you rushed to your bathroom and threw up. “Friday is Bruce in the infirmary?” you voice came out raspy.

“Yes ms. Y/n would you like for me to notify him that he is needed in your room?” the A.I. replied. You contemplate the question but then you realized your room was messy and you didn’t want bruce to see it that way.

“No I’ll go to him. Thank you though” you walked back into your room to get your blanket and slipped on your slippers before you waddled your way out of your room.

After a short trip on the elevator you continued to waddle until you made it into the infirmary.

“Y/n you look like a burrito” Bruce smiled as he saw you wrapped up in a big blanket but frowned when he noticed your pale face. “Oh my gosh what’s wrong.”

“I have the flu” you replied.

“Oh god come here” Bruce rushed over to you and helped you towards the bed. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to get you some medicine and tell Friday to ask Wanda if she can make you some soup.”

Bruce kissed your forehead before he ran out of the room. You laughed as you watched him run before you drifted off to sleep.

*Bucky’s pov*

“Hey buck” I looked over my shoulder and noticed Steve was behind me. “You should of joined us last night. I think you would of loved the movie.”

“You know I don’t like those kids movies Steve.” I replied to him as we continued to walk. I didn’t want to admit it but I actually did want to see the movie with them. But I knew I was going to get stared at the entire time. We walked in silence the rest of the way towards the dinning room and was surprised when I didn’t hear y/n voice greeting me like she always did.

“She’s not here.” I looked over at Steve and he realized that y/n wasn’t sitting next to Tony like she always did. “Where is she? She’s never late for breakfast?”

Everyone looked at me weird before Steve decided to speak. “Do you guys know where y/n is?”

“I thought she was going to go get you guys. It’s French toast day and I know she likes to warn you guys to come quick before we finish them all.” Tony looked at us confused.

I rushed out of the room and went straight to her room. I knocked on her door for a sold five minutes but got no response until I heard Friday’s voice.

“Mr. Bucky y/n is not in her room. She’s currently in the infirmary.” I heard Friday so I ran towards the infirmary.

Once I entered I noticed Bruce was in his office going over some files. Looking around I spotted y/n asleep on the bed so I made my way over to her. She looked so pale.

“Good morning Bucky. I’m sorry I didn’t greet you this morning but as you can see I’m sick.” y/n looked at me and gave me a sweet smile. I couldn’t help but reciprocate the smile as I took one of her hands into my own. Even when she’s sick she’s still sweet and beautiful.

“That’s ok doll, your health comes first. What’s wrong?” I let go of her and and got a chair so I could sit.

“I have the flu” she replied. “I hate it because I hate throwing up.”

I looked over and noticed a shocked look on Bruce’s face. He’s probably surprised that I’m here to see y/n. “Hey Bucky do you think you can let me have a moment with y/n so I can give her her medicine?”

“Nooo I want Bucky here with me” y/n held onto my hand.

“Alright then but I’m going to give you a shot. That’s why I asked for privacy but if you don’t mind.” Bruce pulled out a needle and injected it in y/n’s arm. “I’ll be back with your soup.” Bruce got up and walked away, leaving me alone with y/n again.

Bruce came back a short while later holding a bowl of soup and placed it on the tray table. “It’s really hot.”

Y/n was about to get the spoon but I got it before her. “I’ll feed you. I don’t want you to burn yourself” began to feed y/n.

After she was finished we started talking about random stuff. She would stop from time to time because she felt like she was going to throw up. It was around noon when I heard the team entering the room.

“Oh barnes is with her” I looked over and noticed the rest of the team standing by the door. I was about to get up but y/n stopped me.

“Hey guys” y/n waved at them before her eyes met Wanda. “Thank you for the soup Wanda, it was delicious.”

“It was my pleasure my love. I hope you feel better.” Wanda responded as she sat at the other end of the bed.

“Hey buck do you think I can talk to you outside for a minute?” I looked over at Steve who had a confused look on his face.

I was about to say that I didn’t want to leave y/n’s side. “Go, I’ll be ok. It’s not like I’m going to die while you’re away.”

“Don’t joke around like that. You’re really important to me” I looked at her serious.

“Winter has a crush” I heard Tony snicker before I walked out of the room with Steve following behind me.

“What is it? I have to go back there and make sure Tony and the rest of them don’t annoy y/n. She’s trying to recover.” I crossed my arms as I looked at Steve.

“Is this a subtle hint that you like y/n?” Steve had a smile on his face as he asked.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I angrily replied at his accusation. He was telling the truth but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.

“You don’t have to lie buck, I know you like y/n.” son of a bitch “and I have to say, you picked a good one. She’s a sweetheart and I know she’ll make you happy.”

“Alright I do like y/n.” I sighed in defeat. “If that’s all you wanted to say I’m going to go back in there and make sure the team isn’t annoying her.” Steve let out a laugh before we talked back inside.

My blood was boiling when I noticed Natasha and Clint were laying next to y/n. I tried so hard not to march over there and removed them from the bed.

“Alright guys time to go. Y/n can’t make a speedy recovery if we’re annoying her.” Steve announced and caused everyone to start complaining. Looking over at y/n I noticed she had a look of relief as she watched everyone making their way out of the room.

“Hey why isn’t Barnes leaving?” Tony complained as I took my seat next to y/n.

“Because I can’t function without seeing his handsome face.” I was trying not to blush as her comment so I just looked down.

Tony replied to her comment but I couldn’t hear it. Once I heard the door shut I looked up at y/n and noticed she had a smile on her face. “What?”

“You blushed when I said you were handsome” she started to sing her answer but started to cough at the end. “Don’t worry I won’t tell anyone.”

“Good because if you do I’ll never talk to you again.” I tried to sound serious but the look on y/n told me that she wasn’t buying it.

“Are you going to be here the entire time I’m sick?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do. Like I said I can’t function without seeing your handsome face” I really wanted to kiss her but then I remembered why she was here. It was the reason I dropped my act.

“I really want to kiss you right now but you’re sick” I ran my thumb over her hand.

The next thing I knew y/n was shouting. “Hey Bruce do you know when I’m going to start getting better? I want to kiss Bucky but well you know I’m sick.”

“Well a flu lasts about one to two weeks but the worst days are the first three days.” he shouted back with a laugh attached.

“We’ll wait two weeks just be sure.” she looked at me with a weak smile. “Until then you’ll be by my side right?”

“There is no other place I’d rather be.” I kissed her hand as we started to talk about where I was going to take her after she felt better.

@crazychick010 @isabella-mae13 @misswinchester221b @jarnes-barnes107th
@whenlucasmetmaya @fandomsareforlosers
@what-the-ducky-bucky @thetinestpixiequeen
@kmyshe @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @the-freakin-cookie-monster @fandomobsessedcrazyfangirl

Ghost We Knew

Dean x Reader Drabble / angst

A/N: This is all in Dean’s POV. I was literally listening to music and this came to me. Idk what this is. I’m sorry. I hate myself. I’m posting this from my phone so, sorry, no giffing. As always, like, reblog, follow, and send me feedback. Yell at me, curse at me, cry with me, I love it. ;)

Warnings:
- Angst.
- Talk of death.
- More angst.

Based on the song: Ghost We Knew by Mumford & Sons

*gif not mine.

Originally posted by this-guy-ships-everything

It’s a year ago today you passed away. A year ago today that you were unknowingly ripped from my life, in a way I couldn’t protect you. You were the most careful driver, even making sure you stopped completely at every stop sign. But it wasn’t your fault. A drunk driver hit you. Totaled your car and stopped your heart. By the time Cas and I got there, you were gone. I was literally powerless to save you and it broke me. But she saved me Y/N. Our little girl - Ellie. She brought me back.

Keep reading

I remember the drive home when the blind hope turned to crying and screaming why? Flowers pile up in the worst way, no one knows what to say about a beautiful boy who died. And it’s about to be Halloween. You could be anything you wanted if you were still here. I remember the last day when I kissed your face and whispered in your ear, come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here. Out of this curtained room in this hospital grey, we’ll just disappear. Come on baby with me, we’re gonna fly away from here. You were my best four years.
—  Ronan by Taylor Swift
AMNESIA

iTunes album ft. Amnesia (deluxe version): http://po.st/Hguvl8
——-

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted
I thought about our last kiss
How it felt, the way it tasted
Even though your friends tell me you’re doing fine
Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you
When he says those words I hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?
Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?
Cause I’m not fine at all

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the makeup running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape
Cause I’m not fine at all

Pictures that you sent me, they’re still living in my phone
I admit I like to see them, I’ll admit I feel alone
And all my friends keep asking why you’re not around
It hurts to know you’re happy, yeah it hurts that you moved on
It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long
It’s like we never happened, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine
Cause I’m not fine at all

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the makeup running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape

If today I woke up with you right beside me
Like all of this was just some twisted dream
I’d hold you closer then I did before
And you’d never slip away and you’d never hear me say

I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the makeup running down your face
And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made
I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things
Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape
Cause I’m not fine at all

Growing Up (Calum Hood)

Summary: okay first, go listen to this amazing song by Macklemore, Ryan Lewis, and Ed Sheeran bc that’s what inspired this and a lot of it is directly quoted so yeah. Calum writes a letter to your future child.

Word Count: 514

Masterlist

It felt like you had only been asleep for a few seconds when the kicking in your pregnant belly woke you up. The sky outside was dark, and the clock on the nightstand told you that it was almost 4AM. Rolling over, you saw you husband Calum, sitting up in bed with a pen scribbling furiously on the notebook in his lap. Squinting in the dim lamplight on the bedside table, Calum reached the end of a page and urgently turned to the next one.

“Cal, what are you doing?” you asked in your sleepy voice. You gently rubbed your baby bump, trying to soothe the kicking. Calum looked over at you, surprised to see you were awake.

“Shh, go back to sleep, love,” he whispered, ruffling your hair.

“What are you writing?” you asked, sitting up and scooting closer to him. You rested your head on his shoulder, looking down at the half-filled notebook page.

“It’s um… a letter,” Calum began. You picked up the book, flipping back to several pages to the start of the letter.

“‘Dear baby.’” you read aloud, looking up at your blushing husband.

“Well we haven’t picked out a name yet. We don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl, so I didn’t know how else to address it,” he explained. A grin broke out on your face.

“Calum, are you writing a letter to our baby?” you asked, your eyes already misting. Calum nodded.

“I just want to be a good dad, Y/N. But I feel like I’m still growing up, and I don’t want to mess this up. And I’m away so much, I feel like I’m going to miss so much. And I want to make sure I’m as much a part of raising this baby as I can be. So I started writing down everything I want our baby to know, and it turned into this.”

You turned your attention back to the letter, and began to read, saying bits and pieces out loud.

“‘Listen to your teachers, but cheat in Calculus,’” you giggled as you reached that piece of advice halfway down the second page. “‘Every day, give your mom a compliment.’” Calum pressed a kiss to your head as you read on.

“‘Ask more questions, and talk about yourself less.’”

“‘Put the work in, and don’t worry about the praise.’”

Tears streamed down your face as you read over Calum’s list of advice for your child. When you finally reached the last page, you could barely read the words written.

“‘Always remember, no matter who breaks your heart, I love you. And I can’t give you enough of that.’”

You handed the notebook back to Calum, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re pretty lucky, little one,” you said, gently rubbing your baby bump. “Your mum and dad already love you so much.” Calum wrapped his arm around you, leaning down to kiss your bump.

“One more month,” he whispers as the two of you fell asleep, his arms wrapped protectively around you and the baby you carried.

Goodbyes before tour

Michael: The two if you hug multiple times and he makes each hug longer and longer the more you have small embraces. “I’ll be back soon. I love you.” He whispers into your ear softly as he gives you a small kiss before leaving to board the plane.

Ashton: He tries to make the goodbyes so they’re not extremely sad so he cracks jokes every now and then. He always gives you kisses all over your face and tickles you so you don’t cry. “In five months I’ll be back and I hope that beautiful smile will be waiting for me when I come home.” You’ll smile even wider and say your last goodbyes before watching him leave.

Calum: The night before he has to go he will spend the whole day and night with you so you both say your goodbyes then. He will always cuddle with you and refuse to let you out if his sight, because the last thing he wants to remember before he goes is you and how you feel cuddles up against his chest while he sleeps since he won’t have you there with him for a while.

Luke: He tries to get your mind off if the fact he’s leaving, but when the time comes he grabs onto you right and doesn’t let go for several minutes. Usually, he wishes he could bring you with him so he doesn’t have to be apart from you, but you always tell him to have a great time and you’ll see him when he gets back. With one last longing kiss; he’s gone.

Preference #1: Your Taylor Swift song

Newt-Ours

“Hey baby, what’s up?” you said to your boyfriend Newt.

“Oh, hey, Y/N, nothing, just a bit stressed out…” Newt said with a faint smile. You wrapped your arms around his waist.

“What’s stressing you?” He turns and faces you, embracing you in his arms.

“Nothing, darling, just everything…the maze, the glade, the gladers…”

“Oh,” you said. “What’s happening with the gladers?”

“Noth-”

“Hey slintheads why don’t you do something useful for once?” a random glader calls.

Newt grimaces. “That. That’s whats wrong, love.”

You smile and put your forehead against his, looking into his beautiful eyes. “Don’t you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine and life makes love look hard.”

Minho-Superman

It’s early when you get up and you’re still tired, but to you its worth it. You get up and make your way silently through the glade among the sleeping boys. You make your way to the map room. Inside is your boyfriend, Minho, getting ready to run for the day. He’s hunched over the map room table but you can’t help but think tall, dark, and beautiful.

“Hey, babe,” he says greeting you with a kiss. “How are you?”

And you say “Just fine.”

“Walk me to the East door?”

I always forget to tell you, I love you.

You walk together hand in hand to the door, comfortable in the silence of each other’s company. At the door, you hug him and whisper in his ear “Don’t forget, don’t forget about me…”

“Never,” he breathes.

I watch superman fly away

You’ve got a busy day today

Go save the world…

He looks back at you once more before entering the maze and smiles.

I’ll be around.

Thomas-Everything Has Changed

All I knew this morning when I woke is I know something now, know something now I didn’t before. That’s what you thought as you stretched in the dewy morning grass. You lay awake for a few minutes, pondering this thought.

“Y/N! Help me with the greenie!” Alby called.

You groaned. “Alright!” You got up and walked over to where Alby was standing with the greenie who arrived yesterday, Thomas. You hadn’t really gotten to see him yesterday so you were a bit curious. He looked a little nervous too, as you got closer…and maybe familiar? When you got within feet of him, your stomach did a flip. He did seem familiar.

And all I feel in my stomach is butterflies

The beautiful kind, making up for lost time.

You stuck out your hand. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you said with a shy smile. A warm hand took yours. There was something oddly familiar about his touch.

Come back and tell me why

I’m feeling like I’ve missed you all this time, oh, oh, oh.

And meet me there tonight

And let me know that it’s not all in my mind.

“Hey,” the boy said slowly. “I’m Thomas.”

All I know is we said, “Hello.”

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

Everything has changed.

Gally-The Way I Loved You

“You shucking slinthead!” you yelled at Gally.

“It was your fault Y/N!” he yelled back getting in your face.

“You never-”

“Woah, Gally, Y/N, calm down,” Alby shouted, trying to lessen the fight. “Just because you guys broke up and can’t fight over couple stuff, doesn’t mean you can fight over work stuff! Separate!”

You huffed off to your room in the homestead. You dived onto your bed and let out an aggravated sigh. As annoying as Alby was being at the moment, you had to admit he was right. Ever since you and Gally ended whatever you had, you still bickered non-stop but now it couldn’t end like before.

But I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain

And it’s 2am and I’m cursing your name

You’re so in love that you act insane

And that’s the way I loved you

You would always argue, that was what made you Y/N and Gally, but now there was no and. There were only you as separate entities. No matter how many times you argued with Gally though, you had always made up, usually with a passionate make out session. Gally brought out all the worst in you- and all the best. You think on these thoughts deep into the night.

And it’s 2am and I’m cursing your name

Breakin’ down and coming undone.

You wake to find someone knocking on your door. You open it to reveal a sleep deprived Gally.

“Look, Y/N, I’m sorry, I don’t know what it is about us-I act like I hate you but-really I’m so in love with-”

You silence him with a kiss.

It’s a roller coaster kinda rush

And I never knew I could feel that much

Bonus!

Chuck (non-romantic duh!)-Ronan

“No! No! Noooooo!” you yelled into the void of WICKED. You clutched Chuck’s dying body. Thomas was over Gally, beating him senseless. You couldn’t believe it. Chuck, the little brother of the glade, was dying in your arms. “Hang on, Chuck, hang on,” you sobbed, as if it would make a difference. You had gotten out of the maze, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You were supposed to find Chuck’s mom.

And what if I really thought some miracle would see us through?

“Y/N! We HAVE to go!” You heard someone scream. You just held Chuck tighter, but his grip on his hand was loosening.

I can still feel you hold my hand, little man.

You felt hands dragging you away, off of Chuck’s body. You let yourself be dragged not having any energy left. In the bus, everyone is silent.

No one knows what to say

About a beautiful boy who died.

You think of all the good times you had in the glade and wonder what’s coming next and if, maybe it was a better death for Chuck than in this scorched earth.

I remember the last day when I kissed your face

And whispered in your ear

You were my best four years.

What if the miracle was even getting one moment with you?



5 Seconds of Summer- Amnesia

*I worked really really hard on this. I hope you like it*

“Amnesia”

I drove by all the places we used to hang out getting wasted
I thought about our last kiss, how it felt the way you tasted
And even though your friends tell me you’re doing fine



Are you somewhere feeling lonely even though he’s right beside you?
When he says those words that hurt you, do you read the ones I wrote you?



Sometimes I start to wonder, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?


‘Cause I’m not fine at all



I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face


And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made


I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things


Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape


'Cause I’m not fine at all



The pictures that you sent me they’re still living in my phone
I’ll admit I like to see them, I’ll admit I feel alone
And all my friends keep asking why I’m not around


It hurts to know you’re happy, yeah, it hurts that you’ve moved on
It’s hard to hear your name when I haven’t seen you in so long


It’s like we never happened, was it just a lie?
If what we had was real, how could you be fine?


'Cause I’m not fine at all



I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face


And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made


I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things


Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape


If today I woke up with you right beside me
Like all of this was just some twisted dream
I’d hold you closer than I ever did before
And you’d never slip away
And you’d never hear me say


I remember the day you told me you were leaving
I remember the make-up running down your face


And the dreams you left behind you didn’t need them
Like every single wish we ever made


I wish that I could wake up with amnesia
And forget about the stupid little things


Like the way it felt to fall asleep next to you
And the memories I never can escape


'Cause I’m not fine at all


No, I’m really not fine at all


Tell me this is just a dream


'Cause I’m really not fine at all