Ynsbarbbb - Https://delulu.co.za

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 • 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: marc has been getting on steven's nerves and it doesn't help that his boss, donna, is biting his head off over everything.

warning: few curse words, marc being a asshole

a/n: requests open!

not my gif

. °.•*♡

potroast was in the oven. the apartment was clean, and y/n's boyfriend of three years is on his way home, and judging by the texts — he wasn't in a sunshine mood.

she looked at the clock, only five more minutes until she sees the love of her life. she scurried towards her—his closet, and picked out her favorite dress shirt. it hung around her frame like a dress. she undid her hair that was in a ponytail, falling in a wavy mess on her shoulders, she also got rid of the leggins she was wearing.

she heard keys jiggling in the lock and quietly she made her way towards the living room.

"it smells lovely in here, my love," his voice rang through the apartment. she poked her head around the corner, and smiled at him. she really took him in since she couldn't this morning.

he was running late, again.

he was wearing a blue dress shirt, black pants and his usual sneaker shoes. his hair was messy and the bags underneath his eyes was even possible more darker, and the bag he always carries was slung around the coat hanger.

their eyes connected and he smiled at her, "c'mere, sweetheart," he said and opened his arms. she walked towards him and he took in her appearance with a smirk on his face.

"i love it when you wear my clothes."

"i love wearing your clothes," she smiled and gave him a kiss. she grabbed his hand and led him towards the kitchen, pouring him a cup of coffee and making him sit down.

"need any help, darlin'?" he asked.

"you're helping me just sitting there and looking pretty," she told him and as she walked passed him she kissed his cheek. she set the table and took the potroast out of the oven.

steven dished for them and they digged in. y/n took ahold of his hand and rubbed her thumb pad over his knuckles.

"how was work?"

he sighed and shook his head, "it's as if donna is doing it on purpose. she's always sitting on my head, oh and marc isn't any better. the bugger won't shut up!"

hey! i can hear you y'know.

"oh shut up!"

y/n couldn't help the giggle that slipped passed her lips. and steven only smiled and shook his head at her. gosh he loved her.

once they were done eating steven volunteered to do the dishes and y/n sat at the table just watching him. she couldn't help the smile that made its way to her lips. the way her eyes observed every inch if him. she adored him. every broken part of him.

"i know, i got a fantastic ass," steven said as he looked at her watching him. she scoffed.

"you wish grant."

he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards him, his hands firmly placing themselves on her hips. "is that jealousy i hear?"

she shook her head and bit her lip. but steven only smirked at her and nodded his head.

"i never thought you'd be the jealous type, my love."

she hit his chest, "oh shut up, you div."

he laughed at her antiques. he cupped her cheeks and kissed her. she kissed back and leaned more into steven. he grabbed her under her thighs and lifted her unto the counter so that he was standing between her legs. she pulled away, the need for air becoming necessary.

y/n weaved her fingers though his messy curls loving the way it bounced back.

it was steven's turn to stare at her now. he was madly in love with her the second she walked into the museum, but once they started talking she missed the tour completely. not that she minded though.

"i know, i've got an freakishly attractive face," she told him and he chuckled.

"marry me," he softly said. he looked at her with a smile, her own making its way unto her face.

"marry me, and let's spend the rest of our lives together. maybe we can run away, only us," he told her with a smile.

and me.

"and marc."

she laughed, and nodded her head.

"c'mon sweetheart, lemme hear you say it."

"yes i'll marry you, and run away with you."

. °.•*♡

tell me you love me | l. norris

hypothesis - on days like these, where everything just seems to go wrong, the uttered words from your boyfriend is the only cure.

pairing - lando norris x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “tell me you love me” by demi lovato]

“i need someone on days like this, i do”

“are you fucking kidding me right now?” you groan as your car’s engine died, right at the turn of the finish line. right at the turn of qualifying for the miami grand prix.

“come on, come on,” practically begging the car, trying to see if you could just get it back to life, to salvage the last bit of your pride that’s hanging on by a damn thin thread.

slamming your hands on the wheel, “son of a bitch!”

“lost power,” you sigh into your ear piece, defeated. laying your head on your hands that rested in the steering wheel.

this is really just what you needed.

another layer of cake on your already shitty day.

first the argument you had with lando this morning, really, about something so imbecile silly that you can actually laugh about it right now. running late, missing your shoe, bumping your hip on the counter - sure to leave a nasty bruise and lando not wanting to get out of the bed.

silly, right?

and now this.

“what happened?” zac questioned, concerned. the car was perfectly fine yesterday, practically soaring all over the track. you were sure that you’d start first pole by how the car roared.

“you fucking tell me,” you didn’t mean to be so harsh. zac’ question just scratched that itchy irritable spot that has been bothering you, all day.

zac sighed, not commenting on your response, sensing how it’ll make the situation worse.

knowing that if he said anything about your starting pole, which you already definitely knew, you’d blow your head.

smart man.

“sending tow, stay there.”

like you’d be going any fucking where.

~~

a coffee. that’s what you needed. a strong one at that.

with your suit arms tied around your hips you walk the way of the holy grail, not really observing your surroundings and stumbling straight into the blistering coffee cup of one of mclaren’s mechanics.

the liquid seeping through your shirt, burning your skin. his cup falling to the ground and shattering in hundreds of little pieces.

“y/n,” the mechanic was quick to react, grabbing napkins that rested on the edge of the table, dabbing at the material, pressing into your now third degree burn.

why didn’t you pay attention? why where you so wrapped up in your head?

why?

“just leave it,” hissing, you swatted the napkin from his hand, you take the route back to your room. the ceramic pieces crunching under your shoes.

with a hand pressed to your head, you can already feel the lump forming in your throat, eyes burning as tears well up behind your eyes. you bite your lip, you won’t succumb to today, you won’t show your white flag just yet.

you won’t acknowledge the pitying looks from everyone on your team.

you won’t acknowledge the murmurs on the paddock of mclaren’s worst starting pole.

you won’t acknowledge the desire you feel to be wrapped up in your boyfriend’s arms.

you just won’t.

another, beautiful layer of cake stacked.

~~

“really?” you whine as you pat your pockets, looking for the keycard that’s used to unlock the door, but it comes out empty.

damn zac for changing the locks. damn the security protocol.

you left, or more like forgot, it at home. on the counter, where you usually leave it. your shoulders sag and with your back turned to the door you glide down it. arms wrapped around your knees and head rested on it.

here it comes, the wall to the well finally comes crashing down and the first tear rolls down your cheek landing on the coffee stain.

you finally hoist your white flag, today won.

a pretty red cherry on top of your stacked cake. a delicious topping.

“there you are,” a muppet voice says, breaking you from the train of thoughts that’s currently speeding down the tracks in your mind.

you look up, and lando is peeping around the corner of the wall.

on every other day you would’ve laughed at the sight.

your lip trembles and a new wave of tears wells up behind your eyes. lando makes quick work to scramble towards you, crouching down in front of you.

“hey, hey, no, none of that,” he’s gentle. he brought his hands up to your face, wiping the stray tears that ran down your face. you lean into his touch, and finally, something that feels right for today.

“turn that frown upside down,” he says in a sing song voice, a smile creeping onto his lips. the gaps in his teeth more than welcoming.

you bite on your bottom lip, the corners of your mouth slightly lifting.

but lando takes that as a success nonetheless.

“there she is, my beautiful girl.”

a sob like snort leaves your mouth and lando can’t keep that muppet laugh of his in any longer.

hair that fell around your face, he pushed it behind your ears, “rumour has it that someone is having one hell of a day.”

you wipe your nose with the sleeve of your shirt, “really? who is it? max?”

“ah, sarcasm, it’s welcoming,” lando jokes.

rolling your eyes you look at his, wispy lashes, a light shade of red tint on the apples of his cheeks, “just tell me you love me, norris.”

“i love you.”

he leans closer, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“i love you,” a kiss to your brow.

“i love you,” a kiss to your cheek.

“i love you,” a kiss on your nose.

“i love you,” a final kiss to your lips.

“i love you.”

fin.

love me harder | m. verstappen

hypothesis - max is on the brink of losing you. however, after a fatal accident…

pairing - max verstappen x fem!driver!reader

[fic is inspired by “love me harder” by ariana grande ft. the weeknd

“baby, in the moment, you’ll know this is, something bigger than us and beyond bliss”

“could you just look at me?” you yelled as max just kept walking a few steps ahead of you.

“can’t. race is about to start.”

stepping into a quicker pace you place yourself in front of max and the garage door, “when was the last time you told me you loved me?”

your eyes searched his face, desperately trying to find a glimpse of the max that you knew, the max you fell in love with, the max you married. the hand you placed on his chest, you could feel the steady rhythmic thump of his heart.

“you really want to do this now?”

“yes! i never see you anymore!”

max scoffed, eyes rolling as he looked back down at his phone, “sorry that i’m busy.”

your hand fell back to your side, “i’m busy too max, yet i still try.”

he nodded his head, eyes not lifting from the rectangular square. you sighed, your hands landing on your hips. is this what you’ve become now?

“is our marriage still worth fighting for, max?”

he looked up. eyes piercing through yours. you cannot believe the words just left your mouth, but it felt relieving to finally utter the words that has been haunting you for weeks.

“i’m not doing this with you right now, y/n,” max steps around you, “good luck with your race.”

~~

it was a millisecond.

you missed the turn by a millisecond and hamilton came crashing into you, sending your right wing and two tires flying. the car skidding across the track and landed upside down.

the force of the impact shoved your head against the steering wheel, hard, bouncing back against the seat.

damage had been done. to you and your car.

to lewis’ as well.

unbeknownst to max, who was in the lead, adrenaline coursing though his veins at the thought of his fourth podium for the season.

he was thriving, the car succumbing to his every command. the engine roaring sending shivers throughout his whole body.

the grin on his face turned devilish. he’s so close.

“max,” christians voice in his ears broke his train of thought, but his eyes never once lost sight of the track in front of him.

“the car’s doing great, no need to worry. podium is secure,” max declared excitingly. he took the turn, groaning at the strain it took on his body.

“though, sainz is on my tail the whole fucking time.”

christian sighed, not at all what max had expected, but he couldn’t be bothered by his team principal’s pms at the moment.

“max, there was a crash.”

another turn, another groan.

sainz could be spotted in max’ peripheral vision. he pushed the car harder, engine roaring, sending max flying away from carlos.

“who crashed?” he asked as he fiddled with the buttons on the wheel, checking if everything is still steady. he has at least seven more laps to go.

“y/n.”

dead silent.

heavy thick as your name registered in his mind. the grin that has been on his face had been wiped down. his lips sticking to his teeth.

“max?” christian asked, waiting a few moments. there was no response from the dutch.

he felt as if his body went numb, limb for limb. his arms felt wonky - not like the grip he had on the wheel mere moments ago. his breathing became shallow, his lungs struggling to capture enough oxygen, his brain malfunctioning.

next thing he knew he was crashing into sandbags.

the impact knocking sense back into him. sand dust flying everywhere.

“max!” christian exclaimed, “are you injured?”

“how’s she? is she alive?” max frantically asked. you didn’t have a choice - you had to be alright. you couldn’t be hurt, max would loose his head if you where. who crashed into you? how hard was the impact?

max got out of the car, “christian, fucking answer me!”

the line was silent for a couple of moments, “she’s stable. unconscious, but stable. no further news yet. she has been rushed to the ER.”

cars blasted past him, deafening noise drumming his ears.

“i need to get to her.”

“max, the race -“

“fuck the race, that’s my fucking wife!”

~

the doors of the ER bursted open, a very sweaty, and breathless max stood there, his eyes frantically looking around for anyone who could assist him.

he still had his suit on, christian hot on his trail.

“y/n, i need to know where y/n verstappen is,” he asked, accent thick as he slapped his hands on the receptionist desk.

she looked up at him, “any relation?”

max scoffed, “my wife.”

her fingers made quick work on the keyboard, “your wife is in surgery.”

max’ shoulders slumped and christian took hold of it, shooting a quick thanks to the nurse and led him in another direction. he swiped his hands though his hair, pulling at it, feeling his frustration grow and bubble at the bottom of his throat.

he could scream.

max paced the hallway, up and down. maybe minutes - maybe hours. he didn’t know. all he did know was that he’s staying.

why didn’t he tell you he loved you. with every fibre of his being he loved you. he craved you, constantly. the thought of you was all that he needed to survive - but knowing that you were his wife, made him whole.

you were the person who stood by him whilst he was working through his troubles with his father. on the nights when fear surrounded him, the comforting hand of you, his wife, brought him peace. on the days when he was on his happiest, it was on the days he spent with you.

you made him. you showed him to be max verstappen.

his wife.

~~

news spread around the paddock, like a wild fire. sky sport tv airing out to fans and viewers to keep you in their prayers and thoughts.

some of your and max’ closest friends took off straight away to the hospital, supporting max even though he didn’t even acknowledge them.

they were still there.

an apology from lewis was sent out world wide, and he even made an appearance to max, but the dutch only glared at him, taking hold of his collar, making his friends jump and take hold of max.

“if she doesn’t make it out of here, you’ll regret ever setting foot on a paddock again. i’ll kill you.”

his voice was icy as he spat the words at lewis, baring his teeth. daniel stepped in between the two and pushed max back by his chest.

max’ eyes never left lewis’ retreating from.

~~

“verstappen, y/n.”

max was in front of the doctor in a second, his eyes pleading his for good news. the doctor smiled at him and gave him what he was searching for.

“she’s asleep, but she’s an extreme fighter. you’ve got no worries, mr verstappen.”

he swore he could cry.

the doctor told him the room you were in and max wasted no time rushing towards it.

he searched the numbers above the doors for room one-o-one. his number. a bit of pride bursting in his chest, fate really had put you two together.

max stepped into the room and his heart broke.

machines connected to your heart, the beeping sound being the only indication that you are in fact alive. various cuts and bruises formed along your face. a neck brace adorned. oxygen mask on your beautiful face.

max stifled a sob as he crashed into a seat near your bed, scooting closer and taking hold of your hand. his thumb drawing patterns on your knuckles.

even in your unconscious mind your body still knew that it was your max, the heart monitor speeding up slightly.

it caused him to chuckle, “mijn schatje, mijn alles, i am so sorry. this should’ve never happened to you.”

he squeezed your palm, pressing a tender kiss to the flesh, “fight, stay strong for me, yeah? so that i can love you right this time.”

~~

a gentle knock at the door roused max from his sleep. his hand was still tucked in yours.

max turned towards the door, lando stood there.

a soft smile on his face with a gym bag in his hand, “mate, i brought you some clothes - the suit can not be comfortable.”

he chuckled and motioned for his muppet friend to come in. lando placed the bag by the door and walked closer to stand next to max. he placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“how’s the missus?”

max looked at you, a lump the size of a bull frog lodged itself in his throat, “she’s good, doc said she’s a real fighter.”

“she is a verstappen, ey?” lando nudged max’ shoulder who just chuckled in response. he felt guilty, ashamed, contrast to who he was. he shouldn’t have had to treat his wife like shit. you just wanted to know he loves you.

“look, mate, don’t beat yourself up about what happend, see this as a new beginning.”

max nodded, “she just wanted me to say that i love her. shit, i should’ve just said it to her. the crash-“

“is not your fault, you couldn’t have possibly predicted an accident to happen.”

he shook his head and looked at the bag by the door, “i’m going to change, would you mind maybe staying here. i don’t want to leave her alone.”

“yeah, of course mate.”

~~

two weeks later

“don’t strain yourself so much, schat,” max’ voice was gentle as he looked at your from his seat on the couch. within mere moments he stood in front of you, large palms pressed to your hips to help you walk the last few remaining steps.

this last couple of weeks changed. your marriage changed. max changed.

he was waiting on you hand and foot, even though you have told him multiple times that certain things you can do on your own, he still insisted.

the one noticeable change for yourself and everyone surrounding you was the fact that max openly, whenever he got the chance told you he loved you.

whether it be when you’re making dinner, doing dishes, walking beside him on the paddock - he’d say he loves you with a kiss pressed to your temple. it was and still is absolute bliss.

your recovery went by fast, splendid as your doctor had put it. with time and patience, he said, you’d be back on the track in no time.

when your socked feet took the last step, max couldn’t help the face splitting grin that adorned his face.

“look at you go, speedy,” he smiled as he took hold of your head and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead. speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you overtook him when you first met.

speedy. the nickname max had dubbed you the moment you stole his heart.

speedy. the nickname max had used in his vows the moment you took his last name.

max made sure that you didn’t strain yourself too much in the recovery process, he treated you like you were his fine china, bubble wrapping your heart and by God, swearing that he’d never let his actions and words ever hurt you again.

he poured so much love into you. you practically glowed in comparison to when the argument had occurred.

his love.

his wife.

max made sure you knew how much he adored you, loved you, craved you.

“ik hou van je, mijn schat.”

and you knew he did.

fin.

𝖒𝖎𝖉𝖉𝖑𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙 | 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

paring: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: after a sleepless night y/n finds herself in front of steven's door and with a confession in her heart.

warning: language(i think), fluff(yes it's a warning), sleepy steven, friends to lovers

request is open!

a/n: ayo first moon knight fic. hope yall enjoy

not my gif

･*:.｡.･

left, no. right, nope. back. nada. stomach, zip.

nothing seemed to work. she had tried a glass of warm milk. reading a book. watching a movie. solving a rubics cube. taking a walk around the block.

but nothing seemed to work. her brain wouldn't shut down. her brain wouldn't stop thinking about the one person she desperately needed to stop thinking about.

steven grant.

and his chocolate brown curly hair, she wondered what it would feel like to run her hands though it. his eyes that she seemed to get lost in. she thought about the curve of his lips and she couldn't help but wonder how it soft it would feel against her own. his hands exploring every curve of her body.

ugh get a grip!

she turned her neck to the right and 04:32 flashed bright red. she groaned and smashed a pillow in her face. she stood up pulling a pair of jeans on and an oversized sweatshirt on with converse.

she let her feet map her way, getting lost in her thoughts again. how could she let this happen? catching feelings for her best friend, and practically distancing her from him and steven feeling guilty because of it. the poor man thought it was his fault.

she went the depths and asked donna to move her to another station just so that she wouldn't get distracted. but had that worked? abso-freakin'-lutly not. if possible, she thought about him even more.

she looked up at the building. steven's building.

she knocked once, twice, thrice and the door swung open. it looked as if steven was ready to punch the person knocking at this unholy hour in the morning but when his eyes connected with y/n's his expression softened.

"y/n, what're you doin' here?" he said and opened the door further to invite her in.

she wringed her hands together walking in. "couldn't sleep, and I knew you were awake," she spoke softly. this was a bad idea.

steven nodded, "any particular reason keepin' you awake?" he moved passed her and towards the kitchen, he grabbed two muggs from the cupboard and turned on the kettle.

"just thinking about stuff," she told him and jumped onto the counter and wringed her hands together again out of nervous habit and Steven noticed.

"what kinda stuff?" he asked again and crossed his arms over his chest as he waited for the kettle to boil.

y/n gulped, "work stuff."

"we both know you're lying, you're a terrible liar," steven chuckled, "c'mon, what's botherin' you?"

now or never, y/n.

"you."

steven choked on air. his cheeks flushing bright red. could it be possible that his crush on his best friend of two years liked him back? that couldn't be right.

"steven, you're consuming my every thought. every waking moment i think about you. i can't sleep because you're there. and trust me when i say i've tried everything to go to sleep. steven, i'm in love with you," she breathed but didn't dare to look up at him.

"fucken' finally," steven said as he moved towards her cupping her cheeks and kissing her. she was shocked and her eyes was wide but after a few moments she melted into him and grapped him by his shirt and pulled him closer, in between her legs.

steven pulled away and took a breath. he caressed her red dusted cheek and chuckled, "took you long enough."

"well then I sincerely apologize," she smiled at him and bit her lip. he swiped his thumb over her lip.

"apology accepted."

･*:.｡.･

𝖘𝖙𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖇𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖊𝖛𝖊 𝖎𝖓 𝖈𝖗𝖆𝖟𝖞 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊 | 𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖓 𝖌𝖗𝖆𝖓𝖙

pairing: steven grant x fem!reader

summary: since donna had put you both in inventory, why not make put of it a date?

warning: probably my lack of inspo, sorreyy

a/n: requested! also this is really really really short! Hi there! Could you do a Steven Grant fic where he surprises you to a nice little date at the museum he works at and gives you a private tour of every exhibit? Thank you! @aspie-allie

not my gif!

.°•*♡

"oh and this is just my favorite exhibit of all the exhibits!" steven exclaimed as he squeezed your hand in his. he led you through the many paintings and small statues of the many gods and goddesses of egypt.

his eyes sparkled and he carried a toothy grin. he explained about what power each god and goddess held over egypt though the years and the love story between some of them. you didn't care about any of it really, you just care about the person who couldn't stop rambling about them.

the way his voice changed a few octaves with each explanation, or the way his eyes searched for something new you might find interesting, or the way his hair fell into his face and his attempt to move it out of the way, and maybe it was for the fact that he didn't let go of your hand. you didn't mind. not at all.

steven wasn't shy, he just wasnt fond of making the first move. so when the two of you started your own private little tour of the museum you took hold of his hand, and steven didn't let go. not even once.

"i'm rambling again, ain't i? i'm sorry y/n, i don't wanna spoil the night with my rambling," he told you, and he looked down scratching the back of his neck.

you were quick to take hold of his other hand, you squeezed it and he looked up at you.

"i would never get tired of your rambling, if it meant i get to stare at you, then please, by all means, ramble away."

steven chuckled and blushed. he nodded and looked around, "c'mon just 'round there is all the fun stuff."

steven pulled you along with him and you giggled, jogging after him still hand in hand. maybe it's cliche but what you were feeling for steven was like in every fairytale book your mother ever read to you.

maybe you just believed in crazy love.

down bad | d. ricciardo

hypothesis - daniel is not ready nor is he willing to leave this thing behind.

pairing - daniel ricciardo x fem!baker!reader

[fic is inspired by “down bad” by taylor swift]

“fuck it if i can’t have us, i might just not get up, i might stay down bad”

“y/n,” your name slipped past his lips in a devastated sigh, eyes big as he stared at you. brown orbs drowning in a pool of tears.

a big, red suitcase sat on your bed, clothes haphazardly thrown around and you, sitting there on the foot end of the bed, messy hair surrounding your face and one of your favourite tops scrunched up in your hands.

daniel’s feet is glued to the hardwood floor by the door, his mind swimming, “wh—what are you doing?”

he looks around the room, your belongings, their familiar spots now empty. a sob escapes your mouth and you crumble from the edge of the bed down to the floor, ankles crossing and knees bucking up.

“i can’t do this anymore, daniel.”

his feet moves him to crouch in front of you, “baby, what are you talking about?”

you look up at him, “this,” you gesture around you with your hand, “the spotlight, the constant hate, the amount of time you leave.”

“let’s talk about it, yeah?” daniel asked, his voice hoarse. he’s swallowing at the lump in his throat, as he moves to sit down.

chuckling, you throw the top to the side, “what’s there to talk about? i’m a baker, i bake cakes, in a small town. and you,” you sniff and wipe your nose with the back side of your hand, “you travel the world, you race, everyone knows about you.”

he nods, “baby, i still don’t see the problem here.”

“i’m out of your league, i’m so far out of your league. i don’t fit into this lifestyle, i can’t flaunt money anywhere i go.”

daniel takes hold of your hands, “where’s all of this coming from, honey?”

you look up at him, and reach your arm back on the bed where you have thrown your phone after spending hours reading what his fans had written about you.

his fans, the people that would run to the end of this world to support him, that go to his every race to shout his name as he passes the finish line, the people he confided in the most when he started dating you.

“i can talk to them, disable our comments on our posts, hell, baby, i’ll even delete all social media,” daniel says, his eyes not leaving the phone. his eyes reading every comment twice and his heart swelling and breaking.

switching off the phone, you stand up and grap the top you had thrown to the side, “don’t bother, it’ll either way just get worse.”

daniel shoots to his feet, grabbing the things you had haphazardly throw into the suitcase and putting it on the bed.

he’s not going to loose you. he won’t.

“y/n, please don’t do this, it’s almost winter break, we can go somewhere private, just us. we can work this out, we will get past this,” daniel is practically begging, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he keeps on swallowing on the lump.

your shoulders sag, “daniel, stop,” you place the jeans in your suitcase and walk up to him to take his hands in yours, “find someone else, someone who fits into this life, who will walk it with you every step of the way. there are so many women out there who’ll be better and much more supportive than i am, and someone who can handle a bunch of teenage girls’ comments.”

daniel shakes his head wildly and grips your hands tighter, “no, no, fuck all else if i cannot do this with you. i don’t need someone else, God, i only want you. i am my best when i am with you, y/n, forget those fucking comments. remember what i said in the beginning of this relationship?” daniel’s hands moved up to cup your face, wiping at the wetness under your eyes, nodding his head,

“it’s us, baby, it’s us against all else,” his voice breaks as he said it. he bites his lips, the tears he was forcing away finally slips down his cheeks.

“i will fight, y/n, i will fight for us. i will fight for you. i will fight anyone who is against us, because, baby, i will not survive this night if you walk out those doors,” he moves to tuck those little hairs around your face behind your ears.

you nod your head as best as you can with daniel’s large calloused palms holding it. falling into him, resting your head on his chest and securely wrapping your arms around him, you believe him.

because, against all odds, you weren’t ready to leave, to leave everything you’ve accomplished together.

you weren’t ready to loose daniel. to loose his jokes, his comfort that comes with his presence, his laugh that made everyone in the room giggle, his hands that easily engulfed yours, his shoulder when you needed someone to lean on. you weren’t ready to loose that.

his chest heaved with a sigh of relief as he rested his chin on the crown of your head and wrapping his arms around your shoulders tightly.

“it’s us against it all, yeah?”

with your face smushed into his chest, a mumbled agreement sealed with a kiss to your forehead is all both you and daniel needed to know that none of you were going anywhere anytime soon.

fin.