#pls forgive his sad face

[blueivyy99]

Finding a photo of his ex

Sylus x Non-MC

summary: a painful break up with your ex left you insecure, like you were never enough no matter what you do. then Sylus came to mend your heart. but when you found out who his past girlfriend was, you're left thinking: will he be like your ex?

tags: insecurities, exes zayne and non-mc, slight angst, comfort, fluff, sweet bf sylus, not set in LADS universe, VERY OOC Zayne description

note: SORRY ZAYNE I LOVE YOU PLS FORGIVE ME

taglist: @animegamerfox @lazypostfandomer

It was an accident. You were rummaging in Sylus's storage room looking for some books to pass by some time. You found one that piqued your interest; the book is squished under one of the old boxes obviously forgotten you pulled it out and looked over the pages.

As you were skimming, a photograph fell to the floor. When you picked it up and examined the photo your breath hitched when your eyes saw a familiar woman.

In the photo, she is grinning from ear to ear while Sylus gives her hand a kiss.

It was MC with Sylus.

This is not the first time you encountered her. Since she is a woman you know too well. The very woman who is the reason for your insecurities. The same woman who stole your previous boyfriend away.

You took a deep breath trying to calm yourself down. You knew that Sylus had a previous relationship. He knew about your past as well but you didn't expect that MC would be his ex.

Well, you didn't ask, that's one thing. But life seems to just like playing with you. Seeing her face again brought back bitter memories and little seeds of doubt started sprouting in your heart.

You didn’t mean to fall for another one of MC’s ghosts.

Zayne was first. Quiet, reserved, and soft spoken Doctor Zayne. You remembered chasing him back then. Asking to get noticed, being overly happy when given a mere glance. So when he relented and gave you a “chance" you wasted no time and showed him how much you love him.

At first, it was okay. You keep telling yourself that it's just the way he is and in no time, he will open up to you and let his walls break down but that didn't happen.

Not with you, at least.

Because when you saw him one time laughing and smiling with his childhood friend, suddenly everything just made sense.

What you were begging for him to do with you comes so naturally for him when it comes to her.

Lunch with you in the office? Nope, too unprofessional. But with MC, he would even go as far as cooking for the both of them.

Dinner after work? He's too tired to even lift a leg. But wouldn't mind driving to go to her place when she asked him to.

One social media post about you? Oh hell nah. He is not a social media person anyway. But would occasionally post their arcade escapades with a sassy caption.

You confronted him about it, but he just told you that it meant nothing. That she is a childhood friend nothing more and that she has a boyfriend.

But you knew that he was lying of course. You spent ages trying to learn him and loving him. You saw how his eyes had that air of sadness and anger when says that MC already has a boyfriend.

It was not a surprise when he started spending less time with you when the news of MC and her boyfriend broke up. Of course he'd be there.

But the more he kept choosing to be with her, the more you started spiralling to sadness as well.

You kept trying and trying to keep him by your side. Being the docile girlfriend that he needs. Never demanding, never yelling, never crying.

You held onto him long enough to believe he might look back.

But he never did.

So you let him go.

Or maybe he let you go first, you didn't know.

The break up became more of a relief for him and that's what struck the most. A part of you hoped he would at least feel remorseful and maybe even regret but there is none.

So you left. But with more insecurities as ever.

Was it really that hard for him to love you?

Was there anything you didn't do?

Why was it easy for him to just let you go and leave like you didn't matter?

Did he really love you or did he just get in a relationship with you to stop you from chasing him like a wild dog?

You ponder over it for a year or two. Just accepting that maybe you're just no match for her and guys like Zayne would always, always choose a woman like her over a woman like you. Because of that you swore to never love again.

Then came Sylus.

Rough, loud, reckless Sylus, who didn’t ask you to be anything. The same Sylus who didn't force you to return his feelings when he figured that you weren't ready yet and let you at your own pace.

Sylus who became the receiving end of your insecurities but gently kissed all the doubts away. Sylus who made you feel like loving again doesn't sound bad as it seems.

With him, the ache didn’t fade to zero but it stopped owning you.

Not until you saw this photo.

You have been doing a good job of reigning over the dark thoughts brought by your past but seeing this just makes you question everything.

Sylus never gave you a chance to doubt him. He showed you every day that his eyes are set on you and you alone. That no matter how many women fawn over him, he will always choose you.

But because of this stupid photo, you're seeing yourself as that same woman five years ago. Pathetic and a loser content with just a scrap of affection from her boyfriend.

The boyfriend who will choose the same woman in this damned photo over and over again.

You knew Sylus isn't like that.

Right?

But a voice in your head tells you that it will only take a matter of time before he realizes that she is the better option. That you are not worth wasting his time for. That once the opportunity presents itself, he will toss you aside like Zayne did just so he can run to her.

Sobs broke out of your lips and the photo on your hand is already crumpled by how much you're gripping it.

Just the thought of Sylus giving you that cold dismissive look made your heart shatter. It didn't help when the memory of you breaking up with Zayne and he had the audacity to be relieved kept popping in your head but this time, Sylus's face was in it.

It had been five years since that night. But everything is still fresh. Everything is still vivid. You don't know where Zayne is. You're not gonna bother finding out anyway.

But you're in the same city and Sylus crossing paths with MC is not impossible.

What if he sees her and thinks that he's wasting time with you?

What if he is with you out of pity because of how miserable you were before?

Your head is aching at all the thoughts swirling in your mind.

“– Sweetie?” Sylus's voice took you out of your haze. "What's happening?”

He looks at your tears streaked face and he quickly gathers you in his arms, grounding you back to reality. You sobbed in his chest holding him tightly. Silently begging for him not to go.

He took your hand and gently removed the photo from your grip, throwing it away on the floor. Connecting two and two together.

“I'm sorry, darling. Should've thrown that away. I didn't know it's still there." You feel him kissing your head and rubbing your back trying to make you stop from crying.

“P-please, please, don't leave me for her," you whimpered. “I'll do everything … anything. Just don't go."

You held him tighter while hoping and begging.

You felt him stiffen and you brace yourself for the worst. Maybe this is the part that he tells you that he will still leave. Maybe it's a good thing that you finally gave him a way out of this relationship just like what Zayne did.

He cupped your cheeks and looked at you with such bewilderment. “Where is this coming from? I'm not leaving you, sweetie. Never in a million years."

Fresh set of tears fell from your eyes again.

“B-but it's her. Everyone chooses her.” You replied.

Sylus isn't strange to the fact that your ex left you as a mess. He was there to help you pick up the broken pieces after all. He still wants to beat up your ex for being such an asshole.

But hearing you say those words, a realization occurred to him.

"Her? You mean the woman you told me about was MC?"

You nodded your head.

"My sweet little darling,” he wiped your tears away. "Try not to worry about it, okay? I won't leave you. I would die before anyone could take me away from your side. I love you. I love you so much.”

You yelped when suddenly his strong arms are lifting you up carrying you, transporting you back to the living room and settling in the couch making you sit on his lap.

“The best days of my life are with you, sweetie. I'd be a fool to let you go." He said. Your heart thumping at the sincerity in his tone. “You are perfect for me. The one I've been waiting for my whole life. Even if the women from my past come back and try to take me, I will always choose you. I will always stay with you for as long as you want me to."

You looked at his eyes. Trying to find deception and lies. But all there was was his overwhelming sincerity. You're trying hard not to believe him, but there is something in his gaze that begs you to have faith in him.

“Don't say that," you said almost above a whisper.

“Hmm why not?" He said with a little teasing in his voice sensing the shift in your mood.

“I might not let you go if you keep telling me those things."

A low chuckle escaped his lips. "Is that so? Then allow me to shower you with assurance so you'll hold me tight, sweetie.”

He held one of your cheeks and looked you straight to the eyes, “I love you. I'm not like your ex. I won't leave. You're not a burden to me, darling. As long as I'm alive, you're wanted here in my heart, sweetie.”

When he leaned closer to kiss your lips, you held on to him tightly pulling him closer as you answered his kisses. One by one, all your doubts were washed away.

Every brush of his lips against yours is a confession of his love, his loyalty. One that you have never felt before in your previous relationship.

“I love you, Sylus." You said in between kisses. It made him groan and kiss you more fervently.

As Sylus held you tenderly, softly caressing you and kissing you gently, you feel a part of you getting healed.

As your bodies collide, he reminds you that for him you are enough.

And maybe that's all you needed. To feel loved, cherished and assured that no matter how perfect she might be, someone will choose you within a heartbeat.

Thoughts? Comments? Lemme hear ❤️ luv u! Hope u enjoyed.

[luveline]

you can ignore me for the rest of time and I will still dutifully show up to read your work every day ~ can I request some angsty bombshell x spencer? maybe their first actual fight and spence snaps at her so bombshell r crying and locks herself in their room and he apologizes through the door but still sleeps on the couch and she comes and snuggles in the middle of the night and forgives him bc she can’t sleep? this is so self indulgent pls feel free to change anything you want love you jade

thank u for requesting! —spencer makes you cry. fem, 1k

Spencer can’t stand hearing you cry. He can’t believe he’s the one who caused it —he didn’t mean to, he just got so annoyed at you, everything’s difficult lately now you’ve moved in together permanently because you practically living at his apartment is apparently not the same as truly living with one another. 

He knows neither of you are unhappy living together, but you haven’t fought before, not like this. He stands just outside the bedroom door where you’ve sequestered yourself, ashamed of making you this upset. He doesn’t let himself in. “Y/N?” 

“Go away, Spencer,” you say. To your credit, you try to sound calmer than you are. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean for it to go that far. Please don’t cry.” 

“Spencer,” you say, a line of anger darkening your words, “leave me alone.” 

He shouldn’t have said you were being lazy. You aren’t lazy, you’re tired. Moving in together has been really hard on you, even if you won’t admit it, or show it externally. He just wanted to say something mean, because you’d said you allowed him to have that ugly armchair in the living room and he got mad —it’s not ugly, and he wasn’t allowed, he’s a grown man. 

He just can’t feel angry about it anymore hearing your sad sniffling. He said something too mean, he took it too far, and maybe he was ‘allowed’. Moving in together is about compromise, and you’d compromised, and he’s punishing you for it. 

“I’m sorry, angel. I didn’t mean to make you cry, I– I was being mean and you didn’t deserve that. I’ll be out here if you… if you wanna talk to me,” he says, turning to leave with his head held low. 

He waits all night for you to come out, if it were just to drink some water or use the bathroom, but after a few minutes he can’t hear you crying, and you don’t make any sounds. He thinks he might hear you moving the sheets aside some time toward 10PM, but there’s nothing after that. He falls asleep on the couch, sulking, wishing he hadn’t been such an idiot. 

You let yourself out of your shared bedroom in the middle of the night. The sheets don’t smell enough like him, and you want to hold his hand, and you want to know he’s really not mad at you. That he doesn’t really think you’re lazy. 

Quiet, you walk downstairs and into the living room, where Spencer sleeps stretched out on the couch. It’s a big couch, meant for soft sitting, wide enough that, were you to set a baby down, they couldn’t roll off accidentally. Spencer’s on his side with his arm curled around one of the bigger pillows, brown strands of hair falling into his face.

He’s not a deep sleeper, but you can’t say you’re scared to wake him. You pull the pillow from his arms and sit on the couch beside him, working your way into his side, and encouraging his arm over yours. Gentle, you brush the mess of his hair from his eyes. He doesn’t even have a blanket.

You hold his sleeping face in your hands. His eyes twitch and scrunch tighter at your touching, worried, but you give a gentle, “Shh,” and he relaxes. His eyes smooth, then open, lashes struggling apart, the brown of his eyes dark as a roasted chestnut. 

He whispers your name, tongue heavy with sleep. 

“Mm,” you reply, tucking his hair behind his ears. 

“You okay?” he whispers. 

You press your face to his neck, letting yourself deflate as you wait for his arms to lock you in. It can’t be five seconds before he’s curling his arms around you carefully, kissing your hairline, the first bit of skin he can reach at this angle. He’s not quite awake yet, you know, can tell from countless times sleeping in his bed. If he were to fall back to sleep, he wouldn’t remember this tomorrow. 

“Can’t sleep,” you whisper.

“Oh,” he says, with all the tenderness of a pet name, dripping, palpable adoring, “want tea?” 

“Want you.” 

He strokes your shoulder. You’re the one being hugged, really, but Spencer’s grip gets so tight you worry he needs one. You wrap your arms behind him, close your eyes tight to stop from getting teary. 

“I don’t like fighting,” you say. 

“M’sorry.” 

“Do you want to kiss and make up?” 

He stills. “You’re not mad?” 

“You really upset me, Spence. N’ I bet you know that n’ feel bad enough already,” you mumble. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I was being childish.” 

You forgive him. Everybody’s allowed to be mean every once in a while. You’d been arguing, and you can feel now that he regrets it, his hands apprehensive but somehow loving still as they touch your back through the thin fabric of a t-shirt he’d bought you. The front has a silly graphic on it, some equation that spells out love. 

“It’s okay,” you whisper. “I’m not mad. I can’t sleep when you’re not next to me, so… Let’s not fight again.” 

“I don’t like it when you cry.” 

You shake your head gently, slotting yourself into all his nooks and crevices. Your legs tangled, the couch is an ample bed for two people trying to be as close to each other as humanly possible. You don’t like crying either, not over Spencer, not thinking he doesn’t see you in the light you’d thought he did. 

“Do you really think I’m lazy?” you ask. 

“No, I was being awful,” he says, sounding deeply repentant. 

Well, there’s no need to punish him, you decide, not when he’s beating himself up already. You cup the back of his head to tap your foreheads together, any aches and pains of the bed disappearing in the eye of his softness. He’s gaining confidence now you’ve touched his hair, his hands travelling low to the small of your back, your face once again pushed into the curve of his neck, where you stay. 

[sleepymarimo]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭, 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫.

summary: law might hate bread, might hate sweets, but if eating them is the only way to show you how much he cares, then so be it. pairing: law x fem!reader cw: none! fluff, awkward law. some descriptions of food and textures if you're sensitive to that! wc: ~3.5k (wow!!)

an: this is for my amazing friend @guilty-sugar ! i recall you saying that you were good at baking, but sad that law probably wouldn't eat any. so, we're gonna make him >:)

i have not posted in soooo long so pls forgive me 🥲 i hope you all enjoy law and making him suffer by eating bread!!

the air is getting warm again, he can feel it. it grows so stuffy that he shrugs off his top layer, leaving him in that buttoned shirt he couldn't stop wearing after the one time you told him it looked good.

his eyes scan the medical papers in front of him, but his mind is annoyingly slow today.

law does a grand job of pretending that he doesn't know your schedule, doesn't know the tell tale signs that point to only one conclusion. the air grows hotter, the crew buzzes with poorly repressed excitement and the sound of clinking metal bowls echoes throughout the entire submarine.

it's baking day.

he's been preparing for this. he's finally going to face his biggest enemy yet, a foe that seemed much more intimidating than any warlord or emperor of the sea.

today, granted the ocean didn't swallow him whole, law was going to try some of the baked goods that you were known for making, including the bread.

the thought alone makes his skin crawl, but it pales in comparison to how small he feels in your presence. it irritates him, especially since your intentions have been nothing short of well meaning.

that's what he thinks, anyway.

law runs his tattooed fingers through the black strands of his hair, deciding to forget about whatever paper he's reading about in a bid to feel a semblance of control. he's overthinking, looking too much into things.

do you really smile at him more than everyone else? do you ask about his coin collection because you actually care or are you being polite?

within the upper quadrants of the polar tang, he can just barely hear the others hound you with questions about what you'll be making. no matter what it was, it was sure to be gone in a snap.

a dull thump shakes the sub, but he doesn't think much of it.

bepo, he thinks, probably slipped trying to gather ingredients for you. his suspicion is confirmed when the laughs of penguin and shachi follow shortly after, but the sound doesn't begin to compare to the one that flows out of your lips.

he represses a groan, his way of ignoring how his heartbeat momentarily diverts from it's usual rhythm.

his knuckles grip the sides of his chair, using it as leverage to push himself into a standing position before grabbing his hat and making his way to the kitchen. the air is almost uncomfortably warm now, but he can't find it in himself to be upset with you.

the submarine had been navigating the undersea currents for a while now. a visit to the surface was just about due.

it's not like he planned it like that. no, of course not!

he didn't even think about how the crew would be eager to hop off the vessel, didn't think about how you'd stay behind to bake while he took on the task of keeping you company.

he steps into the kitchen with curiosity, though his expression gives nothing away. it's that same almost neutral face, his brows slightly furrowed and lips teetering on a frown.

bepo is sitting on the floor of the kitchen, the flour dusting his form barely noticeable against his plush white fur. the bear is half-apologetic and half-embarrassed, the former directed toward you while the latter stemmed from the laughter going his way.

"sorry." he grumbles again, thought it looks like you couldn’t care less. bepo seems to have enough of his crew mates, tackling the other two men and making sure to get them covered with flour.

their complaints mesh with your amused laughs, a soundtrack that the polar tang's captain knows well.

law is blind to the scene before him, everything becoming out of focus as he spots you mixing some ingredients into a bowl. you're laughing, nose crinkling and mouth stretching into a grin that almost makes his stoic expression crumble.

the corner of his lips waver, just a little bit, your joy infectious in a way that makes him believe it's an actual disease.

however, he has work to do and baked goods to stomach.

"and what are you all up to?" he asks, arms crossing as he forces his gaze away from you.

it's almost comical how the four of you straighten up, abandoning whatever you're doing to raise a hand to your foreheads in a mock solute. the "hello captain!" that echoes across the room is practically in perfect sync, or at least enough to make him shake his head.

he sighs, telling you guys to quit it. "that doesn't answer my question."

penguin brings a hand down on bepo's back, a cloud of flour puffing into the air as he does so. "sweets day, cap!"

you affirm penguin's statement, tilting your head with a smile as you give a rundown of what's on the menu for today. some cupcakes, a few cookies and a loaf of sourdough.

just the mention of the bread is enough to make him tense.

bepo laxly nods in agreement with you, his black nose twitching as he catches the scent of vanilla extract. his head is in the clouds, not so much on his captain, so he decides to join you at the counter to mix some ingredients together in a bowl.

at the doorway, law gives penguin and shachi a deadpan look.

shachi chimes in with a grin, nodding his head in your direction. his words are meant to be sly, directed toward the captain, but he's unable to hide his amusement. "sweets day with the sweetest member of the crew, don't you think cap-"

"shut up." law interjects, brows pinching together as he takes in the poorly concealed smugness written all over shachi's face. it's on penguin's too now, while bepo has long since abandoned the conversation to help you instead.

it's only because they've known law for so long that the duo know how much he likes you. no amount of scolding or scoffs can make them think otherwise.

the captain can tell by their smiles that they think they have the upper hand, but he ignores them. law speaks before they have a chance to open their mouths again.

"get the sub ready to surface." he orders, cocking his head in the direction of the control room. "we're stopping at the next island."

that seems to get their attention, their heads perking up at the thought of getting out of the cramped submarine. the duo give law their best salute, scrambling away to make preparations for the sub's surfacing.

law shakes his head and lets out a sigh, taking some strong steps toward you and bepo. your dynamic with the bear is one that melts his heart more than he'd ever admit. the way you can shift from witty and bright to determined and caring makes him want to explore every side of you.

he snaps out of his thoughts when you lightly reprimand bepo for stirring the batter too aggressively, a chuckle threatening to leave him.

an announcement is made throughout the sub to prepare the crew for what's to come.

reluctantly, law makes his leave. he'll have time, he'll have you, but he has to take a couple minutes to brace himself for what will happen once the rest of the crew leaves the submarine.

another half hour passes before the sub's hatch is opened.

the fresh air is much needed, the cool breeze like a balm that quells the unease in law's chest. a series of footsteps echo throughout the submarine as crew members make their way to the exit, smiles plastered on their faces.

this island seems lively, welcoming. the sun casts a bright glow over the town in the distance, a plethora of shops and eateries nestled side by side.

even though law is staying aboard, staying with you, there's a sense of proudness that rushes through him as he takes note of the relief plastered onto the faces of his crew. he doesn't let it show, but clearly their happiness affects him.

he lets them run loose, trusting them enough not to cause too much trouble.

his eyes do narrow at penguin and shachi though, the two men snickering a tad as they walk off with bepo in tow. it's like they see through his plot, his ulterior motive, and the captain gives them a look that serves as a warning.

as the blurb of orange jumpsuits fades out of view, law is left with the sound of crashing waves and a light breeze.

his grip tightens on kikoku's hilt, a gesture that he hopes makes what he's about to do a little more easy.

the scent of baked goods wafts out the door, overpowering the salty sea breeze without issue. he can hear you humming along to some random tune, talking to yourself as you navigate through the kitchen.

he follows the trail like a ship to a lighthouse, drawn in by the warmth and splash of color you add to his life.

upon walking into the kitchen, he takes note of how your back is turned to him. you're washing some dishes, the spoils of your work organized neatly on the counter. just the sight of all the sweets is enough to make his stomach ache, but he persists.

you call out to him first, catching him in those all too common moments when he gets lost in his head. "captain? i thought you were gonna head out with the others."

turning off the sink, you dry your hands off with a towel and focus your attention on him. he doesn't miss the slight tilting of your head, how your eyes glimmer with curiosity.

oh, he was horrible at this. no matter how many times he practiced the script in his head, you found a way to unintentionally mess with his psyche. maybe it was your hair, your eyes, everything.

"needed to finish some work here." he lies, so smooth with his words that you don't even think to question it.

with a nod, you give him that smile, the one that pops up in his head while he's reading and makes him lose focus. "if you finish up, maybe you can meet the others in town. or you can keep me company here."

he takes your words in with a hum of acknowledgement, watching you navigate through the kitchen with a natural ease. for a second, he allows the comfortable silence to stretch. he summons all of his courage, swallowing his pride and nodding toward the delicacies on the table.

"can i…" his jaw tenses, the temperature in the room feeling as though it's rising with every tick of the clock. he squeezes the hilt of his weapon more firmly, his throat feeling dry as he looks between your confused face and the frosted treats.

he gets it together, not asking, but declaring. "i want to try what you made."

your brows rise at his words. it's not like your captain to try your baked goods. you'd never taken offense to his reluctance, as you were well aware of his eating habits, but this is completely out of left field.

one could hear a pin drop, his request lingering in the air.

"you… want to try them?" you echo back, unable to hide your skepticism. your eyes browse the array of treats, including the loaf of bread that was still cooling on its rack. "are you sure? which one?"

law doesn't mean to sound so snappy with his response, but internally he's freaking out. your doubt, the subtle concern in your voice, makes him want to prove himself even more.

"i'm sure." he insists, taking some steps toward you until he's at your side. his eyes scan the table, each morsel seeming to laugh in the face of his uncertainty. "i want to try each one."

your eyes follow his, the table sporting a variety of treats ranging from cookies to cupcakes to the star of the show, your fresh sourdough bread. in your head you prepare for disaster, creating a scene that's as comical as it is mildly concerning.

"if you lost a bet to penguin and shachi…" you start, giving him an apologetic glance.

he's quick to cut your accusation short. there are no bets, no pressure from anyone but himself. "no."

when he looks back at you, expectantly, as if he doesn't know how to approach this hurdle, you grab a plate and start to load it up. there was no way you were going to give him a full serving of anything, so you chop off a piece of each dessert and make what you think is a perfect sampler.

he takes the plate from you with a degree of reluctance, but the brushing of your fingers against his acts as a reminder as to why he's doing this. words aren't his specialty. hell, it's hard for him to show how much he cares in general, but he can do this. for you.

his tattooed fingers pick up a piece of… something. it looks sweet, like something he'd hand off to bepo. those black brows of his furrow a tad, as if he's trying to break down the pastry to an atomic level.

taking note of how he seems to be losing himself in his own thoughts, you speak up with confidence and snatch the remaining portion for yourself. "it's just a chocolate chip cookie." you explain, taking a bite of it yourself to show him how it's done. "flour, sugar, eggs…"

"understood." law sighs, trying and failing to act even remotely excited about what was to come.

his teeth sink into the cookie, only a small quarter piece, and he has to keep from making too much of a reaction. from the chocolate clinging to his tongue to the sweetness practically making his gums ache, he finds each chew to be a struggle.

but when his eyes lift to meet yours, seeing the look of anticipation on your face, he finds that the cookie isn't so hard to swallow.

his tongue peeks out to catch any remaining crumbs, shuddering as the sugary sweet taste lingers in his mouth.

he takes a step toward you, a small one, nodding his head and hoping you can't see the hints of pink starting to form on his cheeks. "it's good." he states, even though from your angle it had looked like he was trying to swallow glass. "what's the next one?"

it seems like eons have passed, perhaps the longest ten minutes law has ever lived through.

he swears his stomach is starting to hurt from the amount of sugar settling in there, and the smile you give him, the appreciation you show, doesn't make it feel any better. your presence makes him more jittery than any dessert, that much was certain.

while you were hesitant at first, not wanting him to strain himself, you can't deny that your sweets-averse captain willingly trying your concoctions was flattering, meaningful.

"okay, last one." you clap your hands together, glancing at the last piece of food on his sampling plate. it's a small chunk, not even worthy of being served as an appetizer, but to law, it might as well have been a death sentence. "the sourdough bread."

hearing the word alone makes law's jaw clench, his eyes narrowing as if he had a personal vendetta against the bread. even when he's picking it up, he can't help but scrutinize it.

"yeah, last one." he echoes back, his eyes finding yours in a sort of stubborn inquiry for support.

understanding what he needs, as usual, you grab a piece of the bread for yourself and hold it up. the nod you give him, allowing him to dictate the pace, seems to give him the confidence he needs to conquer this molehill he's made a mountain of.

after a playful countdown from you, he chucks the bread into his mouth and forces his teeth to bite down on it.

the first taste of it almost has him freezing up, his chest rising and falling slowly in an attempt to not let his nose wrinkle. the texture of the bread is killing him, the roughness of it seeming to scrape against his tongue in a way he's not particularly fond of.

hearing you hum in content, clearly pleased with the taste of your own creation, is almost like a slap to his pride- in a good way. he chews a bit more, it's almost damn painful, but he does it.

finally, when the last few chunks of bread are swallowed, law feels like he can breathe a sigh of relief.

"well, that's everything, captain." you smile, taking the plate from him and lightly placing into the sink. you're aware that this wasn't exactly easy for him, yet you're happy that he tried them. "what do you think? good enough for the crew?"

the answer should be obvious, as your treats were usually devoured within only a couple days of being made. law was confident that you could place ice in a bowl and the crew would eat it up without question.

"it's… good. everything was good." he replies, eyes following your every move. his heart feels a little more heavy in his chest, the lump in his throat harder to swallow than the goods he'd just tried. "the crew is lucky to have you."

i'm lucky to have you.

he inwardly curses himself for being so inexperienced with these matters and he places his hat on a nearby counter so he could run a hand through his hair. law is so caught up with his own inner turmoil that he doesn't notice how you grow a little bashful, how the laugh you give is more nervous than playful.

"thanks, captain." comes your response, the sound of clinking drawers filling the air as you started to properly store some of the goods for later. "that's sweet of you to say."

he hums, his way of telling you that he hears you. at the moment, he doesn't quite trust himself with speaking, his brows furrowing ever so slightly.

there is a comfortable silence for a few minutes, but it's not entirely suffocating. it's comfortable, almost welcoming. there are few people law was content to simply exist with, and you were one of them.

his mouth opens, your head tilting toward him as he states the obvious. "i hate bread."

it seems like a no brainer, your arms crossing while you change your position to face him better. "yeah, i know. what about it?"

law looks at you like he was looking at the desserts earlier. intense, almost scrutinizing, as if he would rather peer into your brain instead of hold a conversation.

"i hate bread." he repeats, the tension in his frame melting away a tad. "but i like it more when it's yours."

you're not sure how to respond to his admission, your jaw tense in a bid to keep it from falling to the floor. your captain is red faced, trying oh so hard not to just blurt out what he's been thinking for the past few months. it would be easy to get it out with a scoff, acting like it's not a big deal, but he knows you deserve better.

"everything has been better since… since you joined." the confession is heavy, the implication clear. this was no simple talk between a captain and their crew member.

while his cheeks get hotter, his brows furrow, his gaze doesn't waver from yours. he's watching for every reaction, anything that he can pick up on to confirm or deny his hopes, hopes which he rarely grants himself to believe to be possible.

your smile is a balm, the relieved laugh you give making him release a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"i can never tell what's going on in your head." your shoulders rise and fall with each chuckle, your chest buzzing at his words, at what can, will, come from this. "you didn't have to try all the food. especially the bread. you know that, right?"

his lips tug upward into a small smirk, his confidence growing upon seeing how you're reacting to him. it's enough to make him take a few steps forward until he's right before you.

"thought it would be a good way to show you that i mean what i'm saying." he answers, the taste and feel of the treats now long forgotten. "besides, i see how disappointed you get when i don't try them."

the way your eyes avert, the small tilt in your head, only highlights your guilt. "yeah, okay, maybe a little, but i wasn't gonna force you to eat bread. and all those sweets…"

"i'll have to get used to it." his shoulders shrug, his expression going back into that more nonchalant one that you're used to seeing on him.

the words have your brows furrowing in confusion. "what do you mean? are you going to start joining us for baking day?"

"no. i'm not eating bread ever again, so consider yourself lucky for being the only one to see it happen." he casually states, silently reveling in how you react, before he allows his smirk to grow a little more wide. "i just have a feeling that you're sweeter, and i'm not planning on giving you up any time soon."

[miorirenkova]

“dream about me” CHAPTER 01

park sunghoon x fem!reader

“park that car, drop that phone

sleep on the floor, dream about me.”

CHAPTER 01 , CHAPTER 02 , CHAPTER 03, CHAPTER 04, CHAPTER 05, CHAPTER 06

synopsis: you weren’t a good person—everyone knew that. cruel, sharp-tongued, and ruthless in high school. but you weren’t a killer. at least, that’s what you told yourself.

just as you were trying to change, news breaks: your high school enemy, park hana, has taken her own life before university.

and her brother?

he’s convinced it’s your fault. determined to make you pay. but the deeper he digs, the more you both realize—hana’s death isn’t as simple as it seems.

warnings: heavy mentions of suicide and bullying, violence, abuse, terrible parenting, heavy topics like death (mentions of a character’s death), gaslighting, manipulation, corruption, blackmail, guilt, trauma, revenge, LOTS of angst, fixation, smut (smut warnings will be given in the smut chapter!!), forgive me if i miss any/more might be added

note: i am so damn sorry for such a late release as i said itd be released in a week but i took a lott more. i was having a hard time sorting the plot out and i also had to go out of city but to compensate i will try to release the next chapter faster!! pls forgive me </3 also this first chapter might be a little boring as its just getting into it and the first chapters might be more story driven rather than romance, but bare with me it gets better!

song for this chapter: anthems for a seventeen year old girl

whole paragraphs in italic are flashbacks of past events and color text without quotations are lyrics ! if they have quotations too, they are lyrics + dialogue in story.

playlist link: click here !

mdni . hate comments will be deleted.

!!.under cut.!!

————————————————————————

the rain comes down in a slow, steady drizzle, soaking into the fresh dirt covering the coffin. black umbrellas dot the cemetery, shielding faces already cast in shadows. the air is thick with something unspoken—grief, guilt, or maybe just the weight of the truth no one wants to acknowledge.

you stand at the very back, far from the neat rows of mourners.

you shouldn’t really be here. but you couldn’t get yourself to believe the news until you saw it yourself.

and here you are, standing at her funeral.

hana’s funeral.

park hana, the same girl you used to bully.

her funeral.

the whispers haven’t stopped since the news broke, and they only grow louder now. hana’s friends glare at you through their tears, some shaking their heads like you have no right to be here.

maybe you don’t.

you couldn’t think of a proper answer to the dilemma in your head. the whispers and glares felt loud. screaming at you.

and his silence?

it was the loudest.

sunghoon hasn’t looked at you once. he stands by her parents, his jaw clenched so tight it looks like it might crack. his fingers twitch at his sides like he’s barely holding himself together.

the priest’s voice drones on, but you can’t hear the words. all you can hear is the way hana’s voice used to curl around lies so easily, the way she’d smile just a second too late, the way she’d say your name like it was something filthy. and yet, she’s the one in the casket. she’s the one everyone cries for.

the way she would easily get everyone to see you as the bad one. her as the helpless, kind, smart girl. they didn’t know the way they would spit her words, laced with venom, at you. the way she would mock you.

to others, it was her just trying to fight back. but you could tell those words weren’t a try. she knew it affected you.

your fingers curl into your sleeves. you don’t cry. not because you don’t want to, but because you don’t know if you should.

you don’t know whether your sad, angry or confused. you don’t even know who your sad, angry or confused with.

slowly, the people who had gathered pay their respects and start pouring out.

but sunghoon doesn’t move. he stays there, staring down at the grave like if he just looks hard enough, she’ll come back. slowly, as if he knows you’re still here, his head turns, his dark eyes locking onto yours.

the rage in them is ice-cold. calculating.

you swallow hard. you should leave.

you don’t know what to feel anymore.

————————————————————————

you groan as you slam your phone down on your table, the sound of the news in the background blaring in your ears, despite being muffled due to its source being the living room.

“park hana, high school graduate committed suicide in summer break before college reopens. the second suicide of a student from this high school. is this a cause for concern?” you hear the reporter on the news channel say, the words sounding like an annoying ring to you.

you can’t wrap your head around why it’s bothering you so much. maybe it’s the fact that she was the very person you used to bully. and the fact that there are people who believe its you, whose responsible for her suicide.

maybe you are.

but deep down, something’s screaming at you, telling you not to feel guilty, that there’s so much more to it.

she even got the scholarship she lost and was so fucking happy, her happiness was almost contagious. too bad she held venom when it came to you.

you had no right to comment but it felt so unnatural. almost like she did it for a purpose other than escaping.

but it’s not like anyone would hear out the person who bullied the victim, right?

————————————————————————

the campus is too bright. too loud.

it was the first day of college for everyone. but for you, it was anything but the fantasies of perfection you had.

it couldn’t be, when the events of last week hovered above you like a sword waiting to fall.

the campus was too full of people who don’t know who you are—who you were.

maybe it was good they didn’t know who you are. they wouldn’t start pointing their fingers at you. start looking at you the way your old schoolmates would. bring up your rotten but recent past.

but he was there. of course he was.

you really should have changed colleges. but it was too late when you found out.

when hana got the scholarship for this college, turns out sunghoon applied too and got in. great, both the park siblings would be there to make your life worse than it already is.

except, one of them is gone.

and the other? he looked at you like he wanted your blood, then and there.

thankfully, you hadn’t run into him yet. and you were planning to keep it that way. you would stay away from him as much as you could. and plus, it’s not like he would want to run into you either. he probably wants you out of his sight too. its a surprise he didn’t change colleges himself.

you grip the strap of your bag tighter and keep walking.

it’s not like you didn’t expect this. hana’s death wasn’t just a tragedy—it was a spectacle, a story passed around like a curse. and you, as always, were at the center of it.

a murder suspect who walked free. a bully who got what she deserved.

you find your lecture hall and slip inside, choosing a seat near the back. you groaned, you really didn’t want to take this class early morning.

you even missed the opening assembly because you slept in so you don’t even know what material is being covered. great! as if your day wasn’t bad already!

you looked to your left to examine the person sitting next to you. they.. looked sweet? maybe they could help you out. you could atleast try? it doesn’t hurt.

“hey,” you say, keeping your voice low. “sorry, i kind of zoned out earlier,” lie. you blatantly slept in but now we can’t go saying that and ruining our reputation, can we? “do you know what chapters we’re covering?”

the student—some girl with dark-rimmed glasses and a lazy slouch—glances up, blinking like she’s just now realizing someone is talking to her. “uh… yeah. professor said we’re going through chapters one to three this week.”

“oh, thanks.” you nod, relief trickling in. at least someone is willing to speak to you like a normal person.

she pauses, then adds, “you new here?” now focusing all his attention on you instead.

“..isn’t everyone new? i mean it’s the first day.” you ask, confusion settling inside you. isn’t it everyone’s first day?

“not really, some people took extra classes here to get a head start in the summer vacations. including me.” the girl replied, partially dividing her attention now to take down what the professor was saying. honestly, you were kind of blurring out the professor’s words. you definitely need to catch up later.

you nod before focusing back on the lecture, making small conversation with her as class went on, getting to know her name, emi, as well.

after class finishes, you drop by the vending machines and grab a snack. damn that professor’s lecture made you thirsty and you didn’t even talk that much. it also made you hungry, somehow.

you grabbed a drink and some chips, shoving the chips into your bag before opening the drink, letting the refreshing liquid cool your throat.

you take out your phone and scroll mindlessly through your phone, waiting for your next class when—

a shoulder slams into yours, hard. your breath stumbles out of you, balance shifting as your bag slips from your fingers. you barely register the thud before the realization sinks in, before the air around you turns razor-sharp.

you look up to see who you bumped into when your heart drops.

sunghoon stands in front of you, the overhead lights making his features look even colder, sharper. he doesn’t say anything. he just stares.

but his silence is worse than words. worse than the whispers from the funeral.

you swallow down the bitterness rising in your throat and force yourself to move, bending down to grab his bag that fell. yours barely hung off your shoulder but thankfully did not fall. his on the other hand, did fall.

the moment your fingers brush the strap, another hand gets there first.

“don’t bother.” his voice is quiet, but it cuts through everything. sunghoon snatches the bag from your hand, throwing it in his shoulder where it originally sat.

what the hell, man!?

you straighten up, meeting his gaze fully for the first time in months. his eyes are dark, unreadable, but there’s something behind them. something furious. something unforgiving.

“uh- sorry.. didn’t mean to bump into you.” you bow down awkwardly, apologising. please, please, just leave me alone..

“of course you’re fucking here,” he mutters.

and even before you can hear and process his words, he’s gone. disappearing into the crowd like he was never there. but his words stay. they wrap around you like chains, heavier than the whispers, heavier than the guilt.

you thought time would dull it. that after everything, after summer, after her, maybe he’d let it go.

but now, standing there in the middle of the hallway with everyone still watching, you realize—

sunghoon isn’t ready to let you forget. and maybe, neither are you.

————————————————————————

you felt your heart drop as you heard the announcer take your name. your name for the scholarship.

how?

how could this happen? you never meant to win. all you wanted to do was to make sure she would never win. you didn't even want this.

and yet, here you are.

you knew the look on hana's face without even having to look at her. hell, you couldn't look at her. you felt too guilty, even though you would never admit it.

you ran to the nearest bathroom, desperately wanting to avoid those disgusting stares that they were all giving you.

no, not all of them were bad stares. there were people congratulating you too.

but her stare, and the others who saw this differently? it was enough to drive you insane.

..what the fuck had just happened?!

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard your cat claw against your sheets, the unpleasant but comforting sound snapping you out of your thoughts.

the memories of that day. you felt so confused and lost. you didn’t know whether you should feel happy or guilty. even if you caused it.

even if you were the reason hana lost that scholarship.

but you weren’t trying to get it yourself either.

were you truly, deep down, indirectly responsible for her death?

you wanted her out of your goddamn brain.

but you couldn’t.

even when you went on a long drive, desperate to think about anything but that.

anything but her. anything but them.

your hands roughly gripped the steering wheel, the parking lot feeling ever so silent.

park that car, drop that phone.

you get out of the car, leaning on it as you slowly slid down it onto the cold floor of the parking lot, tears stinging your eyes.

sleep on the floor, dream about me.

flashbacks enter your mind once again, torturing you.

you wince as the floor of the lot scratches your knee, making you adjust your legs.

reaching for your phone in your packet, you take it out and unlock it.

your fingers tremble as you scroll through your old messages, ones you swore you’d never look at again. but something—something—pushes you to keep going.

then you see it.

a chat from hana.

you hadn’t seen it as you had muted her messages a long time ago due to not wanting to see her messages in a group chat you shared with her.

the timestamp makes your stomach drop.

sent the night before she died.

“i’ll make sure you start wishing it was you instead.”

————————————————————————

end note: kind of short and boring but forgive me it gets better trust </3 also interaction and feedback is appreciated! ty!!

[drewsctover]

but daddy i love him.

"he would burn the world just to keep you by his side — even if it meant losing himself."

summary: they tore you away from him, but not even time could heal the wound. now that he has you back, broken and desperate, he’s willing to risk everything — even your love — just to keep you.

wc: 2,5k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, miscommunication, emotional manipulation, kidnapping, non-consensual drugging (chloroform implied), dubcon and attempted noncon, angst, toxic love, obsessive behavior, unhealthy relationship dynamics, mutual codependency, possessive!rafe, unstable!rafe, lovesick!rafe, hurt/comfort, toxic but deeply loving relationship, trauma bonding, manipulation by third party, abandonment issues, desperate love, guilt-tripping, emotional blackmail, reader experiences fear but also love, morally gray characters, "he’s crazy but he loves her", obsession mistaken for love, they love each other, fluffy ending, heartfelt confessions, reconciliation, healing journey, they’re toxic but they’re soulmates.

authors note. ok so. i got super annoyed while reading devil’s night because like??? they don’t know how to TALK like normal people lmao. they just solve everything with sex lol (i love it but it also drove me crazy sometimes). so i wanted to write something closer to how i imagined it could go. this is my first time writing something actually dark and heavy...?? so i hope you like it 😝. also pls forgive any mistakes, english isn’t my first language!

the relationship with rafe was never easy. no — he never raised a hand against you, never uttered cruel words. but there was, in him, an overwhelming passion, an intense attachment that sometimes made love overflow the borders of what was light and calm. and your parents... oh, your parents never understood him. no matter how many times you said, with your eyes shining with faith, that he was the love of your life, the companion you had chosen for all the days yet to come.

you loved him, truly.

“babe, i’m going to my friend’s house,” you said, your voice soft, almost playful, as you packed your purse with a smile on your face. you, sarah, kie, cleo, and sofia had planned to spend the day together — shopping, relaxing at the spa, those kinds of things.

“today?” rafe asked, his tone laden with an almost imperceptible sadness, as he hugged you from behind, kissing your neck and shoulder. “we had planned a movie night, angel...”

yes, you two had planned.

but the week before, he had said it was fine, that you could leave it for another day, that you had every right to go out with your friends and have some fun.

“i know, babe. but you said we could leave it for another day, remember?” you replied lightly, trying to mask the growing warmth inside you, as he scattered kisses on your neck and shoulder, almost as if he wanted to take you right there, in that moment.

rafe let out a sigh, slowly pulling away. you immediately turned around, and your eyes met his sad expression.

“i just... i’m not feeling well,” he said, his voice soft, almost tired. “i wanted to spend the day with you.”

jesus christ…

rafe knew exactly how to stir you, how to use the right words, that gaze full of intensity. he knew you loved him, and that was enough for him to manipulate you.

you smiled tenderly, your heart tight with love. you hugged him back, kissing his temple in a gesture full of silent promises. you ended up staying. you nestled on the couch, picked an easy-going movie, and laughed together. later, rafe fucked you, as if the whole world could fit between his arms and you.

you stayed there, that day, and on others. but there was one day — just one — when you couldn’t stay.

your father showed up at tannyhill, after rafe had taken you to spend a week with him, pretending you were already married. he grabbed you forcefully and pulled you away from rafe, not even giving you time to say goodbye.

you wanted to stay.

you loved him too much to let him go.

“i’m tired of this! this boy is not for you!” your father shouted, while you, with tears in your eyes, looked at rafe through the car’s rearview mirror. his blue eyes, wide, growing more and more distant.

“don’t leave me, please!” rafe shouted, his voice desperate, muffled by the distance. “don’t leave me, i love you! i love you!”

you turned your face, feeling your heart shatter.

the car kept moving away, but you were calm. you would talk to your father, convince him that rafe was good, and see him again tomorrow.

but that never happened.

when you arrived at your father’s house in charleston, you found out that you wouldn’t be going back to outer banks. now, you would live with him, in charleston, away from rafe.

“but, daddy, i love him,” you said, your voice choked with tears, your heart crushed inside your chest.

“his love is dangerous. one day you’ll understand why i did this, darling.”

a year had passed, and you still didn’t understand.

today was your birthday. you were back in outer banks, living at your mother’s house. the air, the beach’s warmth, the memories of everything you had lived there... everything was imbued with a longing that seemed to grow heavier each day. you spent the night with your friends, amidst laughter and a little alcohol, but the feeling of emptiness still followed you. they tried to convince you to let them walk you home, but you insisted, saying you were fine, that you could walk alone to your mother’s house.

despite their protests, they eventually agreed. they were happy too, maybe even a little careless.

when you finally reached the door, your steps heavy from the night, you felt a light touch at the back of your neck. before you could react, a soft yet firm cloth was pressed against your lips and nose. your heart raced, and in an instant, the world went dark.

when you woke up, the first thing you felt was confusion. your head throbbed, and your body was heavily pinned down by something... or someone.

a familiar warmth surrounded you, but fear came along with the sensation of being completely out of control.

your eyes slowly adjusted, and that’s when you saw him. rafe. he was there, above you, his blue eyes locked onto yours, with an expression that — though loaded with something you couldn’t quite identify — also seemed... sad.

what had happened to the man you loved?

why did he do this?

"happy birthday, love," his voice came, faint and fragile — almost a whisper — as if even his words no longer had the strength to reach the real world.

the weight of his body over yours was both gentle and crushing. it was as if he was battling some inner turmoil you could no longer decipher. rafe held your wrist with a delicate touch, like someone afraid to break what they most cherished, and yet, his presence was overwhelming, inescapable.

"i never wanted it to be like this," he murmured, his sigh barely a breath against the silence. "but you left me no choice."

those words... they rang through you like a bitter echo, a cruel reminder of how everything between you had shifted. how the lines between what you once were and what you had now become had blurred into something broken, unreachable.

that unbearable ache of wanting to love him still, yet not knowing how anymore — the yearning to pull him back into your arms, even knowing it was no longer healthy, no longer safe. you tried to move, but your chest tightened with the effort.

the tension, the suffocated desire, the sorrow... everything melted into something nameless and unrecognizable. was it still love you felt? or merely a haunting nostalgia for a happiness that had long since crumbled away?

tenderly, almost reverently, rafe brushed his fingers along your cheek — like someone touching a fragile, sacred thing on the verge of shattering. the sorrow in his blue eyes unraveled you, and without meaning to, a single tear slipped down your face.

"why didn’t you miss me?" he whispered, and the raw anguish in his voice crushed something deep inside you. "i missed you every single day... since the day your father tore you away from me."

what?

you felt his fingers glide down your arms with a softness so terrifying it nearly broke you — touching your skin with a gentleness that seemed designed to completely disarm you. when he lifted your pink dress up to your waist, the motion was so cold, so deliberate, that you couldn’t suppress the shiver that raced down your spine.

his eyes locked onto your white lace lingerie, and the look he gave you was merciless — as if he were observing something that already belonged to him, something that was no longer yours.

a small smile curved his lips, a bitter, possessive amusement mingling with the hunger in his gaze. he let out a low chuckle, almost as if laughing at some unspoken truth.

"you knew i would find you, didn’t you? is that why you’re wearing my favorite?"

the war inside you was overwhelming. you were terrified — and yet, somewhere deep inside, a forbidden heat stirred within you, burning fiercely, irrationally. a desire that should not exist, that had no place in this moment. it was madness. he was out of control. you knew that — but still, your body couldn’t help but respond to the storm he stirred within you.

he positioned himself between your thighs, the sheer weight of his presence consuming every fragment of air around you.

you were lost. confused. desperate. and yet... somewhere inside you, a part of you ached for him — a disconcerting, shattering longing. you missed him. you missed what he had been in your life.

“his love is dangerous. one day you’ll understand why i did this, darling.”

your father’s words haunted your mind as rafe leaned down to kiss your cheeks, your jawline.

now you understood.

the danger only made him more irresistible, harder to resist.

yet, you still loved him.

but this wasn’t right. not now.

your panties were already damp. but what you wanted — more than anything — was to hold him. you wanted to kiss him. you wanted to talk. you wanted to understand why he said you hadn’t missed him.

you reached out, wrapping your hand lightly around his wrist — a touch so soft it felt almost like a silent plea. your eyes, glassy with unshed tears, locked onto his, as if somewhere in that look there might still be a chance to save something.

"if it ever gets too much... hold my wrist and tap twice..." he had once told you, breathless, as he buried himself deep inside you, one hand tightening carefully around your throat.

it wasn’t a safeword. you two never had one.

but it was a signal.

a small, fragile gesture — and yet it seemed to be the only thing that could still call him back from wherever he went when he lost himself.

when he felt your two hesitant taps against his wrist, rafe froze.

for a moment, the silence between you screamed louder than any sound.

his chest heaved against yours — heavy, burning, like he was waging a war inside himself. his eyes — so lost, so shattered — found yours.

slowly, he moved off you, pulling your dress back down with a care that broke your heart, as if he were handling something too delicate, too sacred for this broken world you both inhabited.

rafe sat down beside you, burying his face in his trembling hands.

"i... i never wanted to hurt you," he said, his voice broken, frayed by guilt. "i would never do anything you didn’t want," he repeated, over and over, like a tortured prayer.

you dragged yourself slowly toward him, your body still trembling — but your feelings, even more. there was too much love inside you, love that hurt like a blade twisting in your gut.

you wanted to hate him.

you wanted to scream.

but more than anything, you wanted to understand.

"why, rafe?" your voice came out hoarse, shaking. "why do you think i didn’t miss you?"

he let out a bittersweet laugh, running his hands through his hair, making the mess even worse.

"your father..." he began, hesitantly, as if the words themselves were poison on his tongue. "the night he took you away... he called me. he... he said that you thanked god for getting you away from me. said you... you couldn’t stand to be under the same roof with me anymore."

rafe turned his face toward you, and in his eyes, there was only pain, despair, abandonment.

"he said you hated me. that you were relieved to be free of me, too. that all you wanted was distance — that i was just another prison to you."

you felt your heart collapse inside your chest. every word he spoke was a dagger sinking deeper.

"that’s not true, rafe!" you gasped, sitting up to face him, cupping his face between your hands, forcing him to look at you. "that never happened! i never said that! i... i never wanted to be away from you!"

his brow furrowed, confused, wounded like a cornered animal.

"i loved you... i still love you," you whispered, tears now streaming freely down your cheeks. "i was just... scared. i didn’t know how to handle it all. you. everything i felt."

rafe squeezed his eyes shut, as if the pain was too much to bear, and collapsed into your arms, resting his head against your chest.

you felt his body tremble against yours — and only then did you realize: rafe cameron was crying in your arms.

"i thought you had left me," he murmured against your skin. "i thought you hated me."

you ran your fingers gently through his hair, smoothing the messy strands.

"i never hated you, i never wanted to leave you," you said, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. "never."

for a long time, you stayed there, just holding each other, breathing in sync, allowing yourselves to feel the pain, the fear, the guilt... and the devastating love that still pulsed between you.

rafe lifted his face, his eyes red and heartbreakingly vulnerable.

"will you forgive me?" he whispered.

"only if you promise never to doubt what i feel here," you replied, guiding his hand to your chest, right over your heart. "here, inside."

he pressed his hand over your heart, as if he needed to feel it to believe it — as if that heartbeat was all he needed to keep existing.

"i promise, love," he vowed, his voice rough with emotion.

"rafe..." you began again, your voice thick with feeling. "you have to promise me one more thing."

he nodded immediately, as if your words were law to him.

"promise me you’ll never do that again... that thing... to me," you said, swallowing hard, struggling to find the right words. "the thing where you knocked me out... without me knowing. i was really scared, rafe. i..." the confession made you tremble, new tears springing to your eyes.

rafe looked at you like his entire world was crumbling just from imagining that you had felt fear because of him.

"i promise, love," he said without hesitation, his voice low, almost reverent. "i don’t know what came over me... i was just so scared to talk to you like a normal person and find out that everything your father said was true."

you nodded, and for a moment, both of you sat there, serious, absorbing the weight of that promise.

and then, out of nowhere, a laugh escaped your lips — nervous, light, real.

rafe blinked, confused at first, but when he saw your smile breaking through the tears, he laughed too — a rough, beautiful sound that made your chest ache with relief.

you slapped his chest lightly, with no real force. "you idiot," you said through your laughter, sniffling. "you almost gave me a heart attack!"

rafe laughed harder, pulling you into his lap, squeezing your hips like he never wanted to let you go again.

"i would never do anything you didn’t want, love," he murmured against your ear, his voice still thick with emotion but now full of tenderness. "never. i just... i got lost without you."

you curled up against his chest, listening to the strong beat of his heart against yours.

"we’re both a little lost, aren’t we?" you whispered, offering a small smile.

"then let’s get lost together," rafe answered, kissing your temple with a desperate, aching tenderness.

and there, in the middle of the wreckage that was the two of you, you found something precious: the certainty that, no matter how twisted the road, you would always find each other in the end.

together.

always together.

[mayanneaa]

gossip girl - ᴊᴊ ᴍᴀʏʙᴀɴᴋ.

PAIRING : jj maybank x reader

SUMMARY : you train jj to be a proper gossiper.

WARNING(S) : established relationship!! slight swearing but it's pure fluff!, not proofread

A/N : xoxo. my tummy hurts so fucking bad. also this one's ending might be a little shitty forgive me pls (divider by @roseraris)

WC : 1k

masterlist.

“JJ!” You exclaim, skipping through the Chateau, looking for your boyfriend. The air is sticky, filled with the smell of wood, salt, and beer.

You make your way through the living room and spot your boyfriend in the back, lying on one of the hammocks.

He covers his face with his arm, slowly swinging.

“Jay, you have to hear this!”

JJ sits up the second he hears your voice, his eyes almost shut. “Hi, baby.”

He extends his arms, and you quickly hug him, leaving a peck on his lips.

“Okay, so you better hold on to this hammock, because—”

“Woah, woah. Wait,” he says, rubbing his eyes and moving in the hammock, trying to give you some space. “What’s going on?”

You grit your teeth while sitting on the edge of the worn-out material, not being able to keep this to yourself any longer. “Ugh, remember when I told you my mom asked me to go help the Jones? They just moved back here but without Ben.”

JJ furrows his brows, “Ben? The father…?”

You nod, “Yes! Well, their daughter is our age, and, by the way, she’s super sweet! Maybe I should invite her over here—”

“You’re drifting off the topic, baby.” JJ reminds you, now fully awake and interested in your story.

“Yeah, right. When I got there, she seemed kinda sad and annoyed, so as the good person that I am, I asked her what was wrong, and she spilled the whole tea! Everything!” You ramble, animating with your arms, and JJ watches your every move with a slight smile, clearly amused.

“She said her father cheated on Ms. Jones with a girl who’s barely 20! Do you understand that?!”

JJ giggles under his breath, lying back down. “Yeah. That’s so fucking messed up…”

“Right?” you say before you take a deep breath, “She mentioned that that side chick used to live here and that we might know her, but i have no idea who could that be.”

“Damn, you gossip like an old lady.” Your boyfriend says, pulling you to his chest. You gasp, dramatically placing your hand on your heart.

“I will find out. I mean, who cheats on such a beautiful woman like Ms. Jones? Especially this… this Ben? He looks like he sneaked onto the Earth—”

“Woah, woah, chill!”

You sit on the couch in your living room, sipping the juice from the recipe you just tried out and trying to get through a book when you get a notification.

With a sigh, you reach for your phone to read the message you got from JJ. He’s supposed to pick up his hoodie, which he left there last week.

A few minutes later the comfortable silence gets broken with the loud ring of the bell.

JJ doesn’t even hesitate, he just comes in without a second thought. You take a look at his face and can immediately tell he’s not in the best mood. He immediately comes up to you.

“Hi,” you say as he leans in to kiss the top of your head. “What’s up?”

He grunts, “I had to go and fix the AC at the Jones house. They were talking so fucking loud my head feels like exploding—”

You let out a gasp, and your eyes glisten. “At the Jones? What were they talking about?”

JJ squints his eyes, “Uhh I don’t know? I stopped paying attention after some man joined in.”

You look at him, disappointment mixed with disbelief. “Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah, they were arguing so I just did my thing and left.”

You groan. “You are kidding me. JJ, you could’ve heard something about the drama!”

He widens his eyes, a sheepish smile crawling onto his lips. “Ohhh, right… I’m sorry, baby.”

Your lips form into a pout, and JJ raises his eyebrows. “Nuh-uh, don’t pout at me for this. I’m not a gossiper, you know that.”

“Well, I know, I know…”

“But I promise I’ll tell you anything I hear.”

You sigh and hug him, breathing in his scent. “You better.”

You don’t even know when did you drift off to sleep, sitting on the back porch at the Chateau. The soft breeze and whistles of wind put you to sleep like a lullaby.

The front doors close with a loud crack, announcing that JJ has returned from the shop. You and the Pogues were supposed to have dinner tonight, and your boyfriend had to go and buy all the missing ingredients.

“Baby, you won’t believe it!”

You slowly open your eyes, eyelids fluttering from the orange sunset sky. You hum, and JJ runs outside, the grocery bag still in his hand.

“Did you get everything?” You ask, stretching your arms with a yawn.

“Yeah, I think so, anyway…” He speaks so fast you have to gain your consciousness quickly in order to understand what he’s saying. “Guess who I met at the store!”

You squint, trying to come up with a name in your mind, still fogged up with sleep. “Rafe?”

JJ shakes his head and you click your tongue.

“Topper?”

“No!” he gets a bit frustrated, a sight that makes you laugh. “What was a thing you were super invested in?”

Your eyes widen. “The Jones?”

JJ’s grin grows even wider. “Yes! Oh my God, would you believe that the man I saw is actually Ms. Jones’ new boyfriend? And that’s not the best part. He’s Ben’s cousin who’s much more successful too! This man owns four different restaurants and has three houses in Asia, Europe, and South America. He’s crazy rich!”

You gasp. “Wow. You really clocked all of this, didn’t you?”

He looks at you, a proud look on his face. “Duh. It was so much fun!”

JJ starts to tell you the story about how he had to follow them in different isles to hear everything and in the meantime, you check the grocery bag.

“…Then they moved to the dairy fridges, so naturally I went after them and—”

“JJ.”

“Huh?”

“You forgot half of the products...”

[ameriize]

I LOVE UR SUB ANTON FIC OMGGG FINALLY A DOM READER WRITER😭🤧

cld i pls req lightweight anton who drank too much while out w his frnds after an argument and he comes home drunk needy and sad so reader has to help😉him😉out😉 and comfort him cuz hes crying hehehehehhehej

IKKK RIGHT, I LITERALLY ONLY STARTED WRITING BC THERES BARELY ANY RIIZE DOM READER like damnn i’ll do it myself

i got a little carried away so it’s abit long apologies😛

also if you send an ask and you wanna be an anon with an emoji, add that in your ask !! i wanna be able to recognise you guys 🥹🥹

you and anton don’t usually argue. if there’s conflict, you both take time to yourselves them come back to discuss and fix. however, this time was different.

you’re not sure why you were so emotional this week, maybe because it had all been building up, but for the fifth time this week anton had forgotten to text you back. multiple conversations just left unfinished. you understand he’s busy but sending a text to tell you that would be better. you’ve brought it up in the past and he says the same low-effort statement of “i’ll get better baby i promise”

well he hadn’t. so you blew up on him after he came back home from work. a heated argument struck up between you two, with you raising your voice and him rolling his eyes and sighing at you. you told him not changing is a sign of not caring for your partner and he responded with telling you you’re overreacting.

one thing led to another, and he grabbed his keys and headed out, saying “i’m gonna go meet my friends. use this time to calm down baby because i’m not dealing with you right now. it’s too much”

it’s too much?? is he saying you’re too much?

the sadness and frustration that was bubbling up in you was better dealt with sleep.

however you couldn’t sleep. not when he hadn’t come home for 4 hours. it’s almost midnight and you were getting worried. he wasn’t picking up any of your calls which he never does. you were pacing up and down your living room trying to figure out what to do next.

just as you were about to dial the police to order a search party, you hear keys jangling in the main door.

you stand up, and walk towards the door to see a red faced, teary eyed anton, who was stumbling and swaying side to side whilst trying to walk in. you hurriedly walked over to him and quickly placed his arm around your neck, ignoring his strong smell of booze, and tried to help him settle down on the couch, but he grabbed you aswell. you both landed down and anton readjusted to lay on your chest, sticking to you like glue.

he’d been babbling about how he was sorry, sorry he hurt you, sorry he made you feel unloved, uncared for. tears were strolling down his face and landing on your chest. good thing your silk nightgown had a low cut neck.

“baby please forgive me. please. all i want is you. i never meant to hurt you. baby i love you so much. i’m so sorry”

“tonnie hey it’s okay it’s okay , i said stupid things too i’m sorry aswell. i’m just happy you’re okay my love”

you gently cupped his face, wiping his tears away. he looked so cute with a red flush on his cheeks, and his teary puffy eyes.

you gave him a peck on his eyes and then worked your way to his lips. you noticed he was being more responsive than usual when he’s drunk. he was shifting around a lot more and letting out more small whines as you kissed him.

“thank you baby thank you. i just- i just needed you so bad. all i could think of was you when i was out. i only wanted to be next to you.”

“aww tonnie you needed me?”

“yea, so bad. so so bad. i just wanted to feel you. just wanted you to have your hands on me.”

you forgot how needy he gets when he’s drunk.

“oh? where on you?”, you said, deciding to play along.

he buried his head deeper in your chest and shyly moved your hand closer to his dick, that was now stiff and throbbing.

“here. i needed you here. fuck please touch me baby please”

“i don’t know… you were pretty mean to me earlier?”

he whined at this and raised his head to look at you. tears threatened to fall from his eyes, barely hanging on by a thread.

“i’m so sorry baby please. i didn’t mean all that i said. i’m sorry please forgive me. i really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

now you had no choice but to take pity on him and comfort his poor self. i mean his dick was throbbing and pulsating so much for you.

you moved your hand past his trousers onto his boxers and began palming and squeezing his whole length, lightly but enough for him to feel it.

“ahhh!! fuck, yes!”

he started bucking up into your hand, desperate for more. after some minutes, he removed his trousers and boxers, per your request, and straightened his back on the couch. while maintaining eye contact, you straddled his legs and continued palming his dick.

but it wasn’t enough for him.

“shit shit baby please let me be inside. i need more. i need you”

you weren’t sure if you wanted him to wait and get even more desperate or fuck the life out of him. but he was so sad and remorseful, how couldn’t you side with the latter option?

you lifted up your nightgown then drew your lace panties to the side. anton watched you mesmerisingly, like you were the sun. he wanted nothing more than for you to bounce up and down his dick, making him take everything you give him. and you would do just that.

you hovered your cunt over his pulsing red hot tip and dragged his dick across but never putting it in. you could see him starting to get more restless, with whines and pleas leaving his mouth. then you finally inserted it in, and slowly sunk down on his whole length.

“ohhhhh fuck.” he moaned, eyes rolling back.

you begun to move, grinding back and forth, so slowly. it was agonising for him.

“please move my love. fuck i need you to fuck me faster baby please”, he whined, tears once again threatening to fall.

you decided you’ve tortured him long enough so you started moving, slamming yourself down with every movement. strings of delicious moans, whimpers, “yes”s and “fuck fuck fuck”s , fell out of his mouth. you felt so fucking good and anton wasn’t sure if he could hold it any longer.

“baby i’m close i’m so fucking close. please can i cum?”

“no. not yet. hold it for me like a good boy okay?” you said in his ear, then you dragged your tongue up his ear. he shivered and whimpered, and whined, “please baby. i can’t hold it anymore, i really can’t! it’s too much, it feels too good!”

“don’t you wanna be good for me?”

fuck yes he does. he always wants to be good for you.

“yes yes yes i do. i’m your good boy.”

“good. so then wait and take it.”, you said, authoritatively but still in a soft tone. you placed your hand over his mouth and started roughly riding him, making his dick hit that spot that felt like heaven.

anton swore he could see stars. the stimulation was too much, and his dick was about to explode. muffled, high pitched moans - borderline screams at this point - filled the air, as he squeezed his eyes shut.

“fuck”, you moaned, “anton i want you to cum with me. okay baby?”

he nodded his head rapidly, praying and begging for you to cum all over his dick already. you removed your hand from his mouth and placed it in his hair, grabbing a few locks. he shuddered at this.

“i’m cumming, tonnie! cum inside me!”

“fuck fuck fuck fuckkkkk!”, he whined, with his eyes rolled back in his head, back arching off the couch as he shot his hot load inside you, filling you all the way up.

you both came down from your high, chest heaving. he kissed you softly, hand cupping your face.

“thank you baby”, he whispered.

you hummed in return and just as you were about to get off him, he stopped you.

“let’s just stay like this. i don’t wanna be away from you.”, he said sincerely, looking up at you with the most adorable puppy eyes.

you laid your head against his chest and snuggled in.

“i really am sorry for earlier. i should’ve never left, and i should’ve never hurt you in the first place. you know i love you right?”

“yeah, i know anton.”, you said with a smile.

a/n : hope that you like it anon !! not sure if it’s how you wanted it to be so, sorry for that :( also send in asks plssssssss and let me know what you think🙏

[2amriize]

.ᐟ RIIZE reaction: they ignore you after an argument and then they find u crying ༉‧₊˚.

req: Can u pls do one when they ignore you after a argument and they find u crying alone

pairing: bf!riize x reader — masterlist

⭑.ᐟ shotaro

Shotaro would instantly feel guilty the moment you left the room after your argument. Even so, he wouldn’t come after you right away because he was still upset too. It wasn’t until he was about to leave the house to run an errand that he found you sitting outside the door, crying. Without hesitation, he’d wrap you in a hug, apologizing for what he had said.

⭑.ᐟ eunseok

You and Eunseok had a big argument in the morning, and since he came back from work, he had been ignoring you. Seeing how he was acting, you couldn’t help but lock yourself in the bathroom to cry. However, Eunseok heard the sounds coming from inside and followed you. The two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds before he sighed, crouched down in front of you, wiped your tears, and apologized for ignoring you.

⭑.ᐟ sungchan

Though you didn’t argue often, when you did, Sungchan had a habit of doing things that hurt you, like ignoring you. You tried to talk to him as if nothing had happened, but Sungchan wouldn’t respond. You decided to give him the silent treatment too, but when you started making dinner, all the pent-up emotions overwhelmed you, and you burst into tears. When Sungchan walked into the kitchen and saw you crying, guilt immediately took over. He walked up to you and hugged you from behind.

"I'm such an idiot... Forgive me."

⭑.ᐟ wonbin

You knew how proud Wonbin could be, but you never expected him to ignore you all day over such a silly argument. That afternoon, you had plans to go to the movies together, but since he wasn’t speaking to you, you decided to go alone. You thought it wouldn’t bother you too much until you started crying in the theater, realizing how much you missed him. To your surprise, he suddenly sat down next to you, handed you some popcorn, and wiped away your tears.

"I'm sorry, Y/N... I—" "Shh, the movie's starting."

⭑.ᐟ seunghan

The night before, you and Seunghan had a fight before bed, but you didn’t expect him to skip his usual good morning kiss the next day. It hurt even more to see him either ignore you completely or reply curtly, and by the time he left the house to go shopping, you broke down crying in the living room. When Seunghan returned and saw your puffy eyes, he immediately realized how much his actions were hurting you. Without a second thought, he sat beside you and hugged you tightly, apologizing over and over.

⭑.ᐟ sohee

You and Sohee hadn’t spoken all day at work after a small disagreement. The tension and frustration had started to shift into sadness, especially as you saw him happily chatting with others while ignoring you. During your break in the café, tears quietly started streaming down your face. Coincidentally, Sohee walked in at that moment. Seeing you, he sighed, walked over to your table, and held your hand.

"Why did we act like this? I’m sorry..."

⭑.ᐟ anton

You didn’t expect Anton’s reaction to your first real argument in the relationship to be ignoring you, and you certainly didn’t expect it to hurt so much. He spent the whole day without speaking to you, ignoring even the posts you sent him. Feeling increasingly upset and unsure of what to do, you decided to go for a walk while listening to music. But as soon as the first song started, you found yourself crying, thinking about Anton. Unexpectedly, you bumped into him—he had been doing the same thing as you. Without saying a word, he walked up to you, wrapped you in his arms, and promised he’d never ignore you like that again.

masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess @yuzuksi

[slattlicker]

entirely self-indulgent request but i’m in pain so i’m allowing myself:

schlatt comfort after wisdom teeth surgery :( maybe he’s the driver for reader and reader’s really anxious before the surgery and then when she wakes up she doesn’t realize who he is? and she like re-discovers that he loves her and starts crying

(so sorry if this makes no sense my pain medication is making me feel a little loopy pls forgive i love you)

╭﹐✦˚₊· 𖤐 * something about your smile ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ ╮ imagine: a kiss you don’t remember, a ring you can’t place, and the man who swears he loves you anyway. ╰﹒♡₊˚๑ *✧﹒✦ ࣪ ˖ ┊

﹒₊✦ a/n: for the sweet anon who wanted love, gauze, and a little post-anesthesia crisis. you’re so valid. this schlatt is husband-coded, through and through. i hope this helps soothe whatever pain you’re in—physical or otherwise. and if you just like domestic!schlatt...hi. welcome. you're home now. please note: this leans more into the amnesia vibes/brain fog than real post-surgery loopiness. not fully accurate, but whatevssss

warnings: anesthesia aftermath, confusion/temporary memory loss, extreme tenderness, crying (like…a lot), and the overwhelming relief of love remembered.

enjoy! (｡•́‿•̀｡)♡

the world comes back in pieces.

first, the smell—clean linens, faint antiseptic, that sterile chill of over-air-conditioned spaces. then, the weight of the blanket over your legs. a soft beep somewhere nearby. your head’s foggy. lips dry.

you blink, slow.

a shape’s leaning toward you. tall. blurry at first. then it sharpens—a hoodie. brown curls. worried eyes.

“hey,” the man says, voice low. warm. “you’re awake.”

you squint. the corners of your mouth tug down, uncertain.

“who…?”

he pauses. then smiles. not the big, cocky grin of someone trying to be charming. no, this is small. soft. barely there.

“it’s me,” he says gently. “i’m right here.”

you just blink again. frown deepening.

“you don’t… remember me?”

you shake your head. immediately regret it. your eyes water. your face aches.

his expression doesn’t falter. doesn’t even flinch.

“that’s okay,” he says. “the meds are still working through you. it’s normal. just breathe for me, yeah?”

you stare at him. because he’s calm. too calm. like he expected this. like he planned to be the first thing you saw—even if you didn’t know him yet.

“you’re being really nice,” you mumble, eyes glassy. “are you… my uber?”

he huffs a laugh through his nose. “no, sweetheart. not your uber.”

“then why are you being so…?” you sniffle. your lip wobbles. “so kind?”

his brows lift. just a little. and then he leans forward, hand curling around yours.

“because i love you,” he says.

your breath catches.

“you do?”

“mhm.” he squeezes your hand. “you don’t remember right now. but you love me too.”

that does it.

tears well. spill. hot and fast.

“oh no,” you whisper, panic bubbling up. “oh no, that’s so sad. you love me and i forgot—i forgot you and you’re so nice and—and you’re holding my hand—”

“hey, hey,” he soothes, moving to sit beside you now, arms wrapping around your shoulders. “shhh. it’s okay. i’m not going anywhere.”

you sob into his hoodie.

“what’s your name?” you hiccup. “i wanna love you again i promise i do i just don’t know your name—”

“schlatt,” he murmurs, brushing your hair back gently. “it’s schlatt, baby.”

you cling tighter.

“you’re really handsome, schlatt,” you whisper.

he laughs, quiet and wrecked. “thanks, sweetheart.”

you hiccup. “can i still kiss you if i don’t remember you?”

“maybe let’s wait ‘til you stop crying and your mouth isn’t full of gauze.”

“...you’re so smart. i think i really do love you.”

he smiles again, nose buried in your hair.

“i really do love you too."

✧✧✧

“are you okay, baby?” your mom asks gently from the FaceTime screen. “you still look a little out of it.”

you blink slow. tug at your sleeve. your eyes feel weird—like they’re not seeing things right. you squint at the camera, then glance off-screen again, voice barely a whisper:

“…mom?”

“yeah, honey?”

“there’s a man in my house. i think he might be the mailman. or maybe my boyfriend? a roommate for sure...”

your mom snorts. “oh lord.”

“no, i’m serious!” you hiss, trying to sound alarmed, but it just comes out wobbly. you flip the camera shakily, aiming it at schlatt, who’s crouched on the floor with your medicine bottle in one hand and a little glass of water in the other.

he glances up, caught in the act, and offers a patient little wave. “hi, ma’am.”

your mom goes feral.

“Y/N,” she laughs, “sweetheart—that’s your husband.”

you pause.

mouth open slightly.

“…he’s what?”

“you married him, baby.”

you swing the camera back to your face. your eyes are wide. glassy. lips trembling just a little.

“no,” you whisper. “no, you’re lying.”

“you picked him,” your mom says, way too amused. “you love him to death. you call him your big strong trash man and once cried because he made you tea without asking.”

you blink. turn to look at him directly this time. he’s still holding the water and pain meds, but now there’s a crease between his brows.

“…you’re my husband?” you whisper.

schlatt nods slowly. “yeah, baby. i’m yours.”

your bottom lip wobbles.

you sniff. a tiny noise escapes your throat. then—

ugly sobbing noises.

“i don’t remember himmmm,” you wail, curling in on yourself. “he’s so nice and he’s helping and i don’t remember—i don’t remember my husbandddddd—”

your mom is laughing now. “oh honey, you’ll remember everything once the meds wear off.”

“but he’s so nice,” you cry harder. “he’s not even mad. i forgot his whole face and he brought me water.”

“sweetheart,” schlatt mutters, finally setting the glass down and scooping you into his arms. “jesus christ, c’mere. you’re gonna short-circuit your stitches.”

“i’m a terrible wifeeeeeeee—”

“no, you’re just all drugged up, honey.”

you cling to him instantly, burying your face in his neck.

“don’t let me forget you again,” you whimper.

“never,” he murmurs, tucking the blanket tighter around you, pressing a kiss to your temple as he makes eye contact with your mom in the phone. “you can forget everything else. just not me, yeah?”

you nod miserably.

your mom sighs, rolling her eyes through her smile. “okay, i’m gonna let you go, baby. he’s got you.”

“okayyyy,” you sniff.

“love you.”

“love you too,” you mumble.

the call ends.

and you’re already halfway into his lap again, limp and puffy-cheeked and absolutely wrecked.

he brushes your hair off your face with gentle fingers. “you really thought you forgot your husband?”

you nod, eyes still glossy. “…you’re really mine?”

his face softens completely. “all yours, sweetheart. always.”

“…okay.” you curl in closer. “i don’t remember marrying you, but i think i did good.”

he chuckles, low and warm. “yeah, you did.”

you fall asleep again like that—tears drying on your cheeks, arms wrapped around the one man you forgot and trusted anyway.

your heart still knew. somehow.

✧✧✧

you wake up warm.

your face is pressed against something solid. a hoodie, maybe. it smells like flowers and smoke. your cheek’s kind of sticky. there’s a muted hum from the tv—gunshots and tires squealing and someone yelling about backup. some old action movie you don’t recognize, but the rhythm of it is oddly familiar.

you blink blearily. your lashes stick.

“hey,” a voice rumbles near your ear. “you alive in there, sunshine?”

you flinch slightly, lifting your head.

the guy beside you chuckles, slow and lazy. “easy. it’s just me.”

he’s big. like—big. broad chest, scruffy jaw, hair a little messy like he’s been running his fingers through it. he’s got his arm around your waist like that’s normal. like you didn’t just wake up on top of a stranger.

you blink again. “...who are you?”

his smile flickers. not fully gone—just softer. more careful. “uh…we talked about this earlier, remember? right after the surgery?”

your brows pinch. you think maybe you remember a car. someone giving you a milkshake. someone holding your hand so you wouldn’t cry.

“you said i could call my mom,” you mumble.

“you did.” he nods. “you introduced me to her. like, formally. i’m pretty sure you called me your boyfriend, your roommate, and your mailman. all in the same sentence.”

your lips twitch. “...that sounds fake.”

“you also told her you were scared of me ‘cause i looked like a tall real estate agent.” he grins now, wider. “so no offense taken.”

you look down at his chest. your hand’s resting there—fingers curled slightly into the fabric of his hoodie. you didn’t even realize. you make a small sound, start to pull back—

—but his hand tightens at your waist.

“s’okay,” he says quietly. “you always hold me like this when you nap.”

you look at him again. his eyes are warm.

your heart stutters.

“you’re…not my mailman?”

“god, no,” he says with a snort. “i’m your husband.”

you freeze.

then blink rapidly. “my what?”

he grins wider, voice low. “yep. signed papers. shiny rings. swore eternal devotion in front of your aunt who cried the whole time and my uncle who was too drunk to stand.”

you stare at him.

then slowly, cautiously, lift your hand.

there’s a ring.

simple. gold. familiar in a way that makes your chest ache.

your hand trembles. “oh…”

“hey, hey,” he says, sitting up slightly, guiding your hand back down. “breathe, sweetheart. it’s okay. you don’t have to remember everything right now.”

you look up at him. there’s something about the slope of his nose. the shape of his mouth. the way he says sweetheart like he’s used to it—like it’s muscle memory.

“...do we like action movies?”

he chuckles, surprised. “we love them.”

you nod slowly. “and…do we like each other?”

his hand lifts—gently brushing a knuckle against your cheek, soft as a prayer.

“you told me yesterday you’d marry me all over again just to make out at the altar.”

your face heats. “oh my god.”

“exact quote,” he says, eyes crinkling. “i wrote it down for blackmail purposes.”

you laugh, shaky. “you’re such a jerk.”

“and you’re a married woman with a crush,” he teases, then gentles again. “but yeah. we like each other. a lot.”

you stare at him a moment longer.

and then it happens—like flipping a light switch in your chest. the recognition hits. not a full wave, but something soft. real.

the way he watches you like the whole world’s stopped turning.

the way your body fits next to his like you were carved to belong there.

“…hi,” you whisper.

he smiles, wide and easy.

“there she is.”

you start to cry.

“hey, hey—don’t do that,” he murmurs, pulling you back into his chest. “you did a whole lot of that before having surgery, now it's time for smiling and cuddling. but not eating, not just yet."

you laugh, muffled. “i’m sorry. i just… i didn’t remember, and now i do, and it hurt.”

“i know,” he says, kissing your temple. “you were really scared. i’m so proud of you.”

you sniff. “you didn’t leave.”

“‘course not,” he murmurs, rocking you gently. “you’re my girl.”

your hand fists in his hoodie. you don’t want to let go.

“...can we watch the rest of the movie?”

“baby, we can watch it five times. we can quote every line. i’ll do the stunts in the living room if you want.”

you giggle into his chest.

and just like that—you’re home again.

[drtyelvisfantasy]

OH, BABY, BABY

CHAPTER THREE

note: I'm sorry this took so long to publish pls forgive me, but thank you for your patience. Please reblog and like🎀

warnings: emotional distress, toxic relationship, pregnancy, mentions of birth, toxic family dynamics

It’s the next morning, and even though the air still feels a little heavy, Margaret’s energy is doing a lot to lift the mood. She’s moving around the kitchen like she always does, humming softly, acting like everything’s okay. And somehow, just that—her being her—makes things feel a little less tense.

She’s always the one smoothing things over when Rafe and I butt heads. It’s like she can’t help but try to keep the peace, even when it’s not her mess to clean up. I feel guilty watching her do it, like she’s carrying the weight of keeping us all okay when she shouldn’t have to.

I wake up earlier than usual, but Rafe’s already in the kitchen, sitting there with a cup of coffee like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like he’s always belonged there. Like nothing ever happened. 

There’s something about the way he’s so at ease that gets under my skin—not angry, just... unsettled. He’s acting like this is just another morning, like we’re just a family, like we didn’t fall apart a hundred times before this.

Rafe looks up from his coffee as I walk in, his eyes tracking me like he’s trying to read something in my face. I know I look like hell—barely slept, head still full of things I wish I’d said.

He nods, that slight smirk playing on his lips, like none of it matters. Like last night didn’t happen.

“Morning,” he says, like it’s just any other day.

The casual tone makes something tighten in my chest. He’s too comfortable, too at ease—like he can just pick up where we left off without acknowledging the wreckage between us. And somehow, that bothers me more than if he’d just come out swinging.

“Are you leaving today, right?” I ask, trying to sound casual, but it comes out softer than I meant—like the answer might matter more than I want to admit.

Rafe pauses, takes a slow sip of his coffee. His face doesn’t give much away.

“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “Figured I’d head out later today.”

Rafe stands, setting his mug down with a quiet clink. He walks over slowly, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to do what he’s about to do. Then, without saying anything, he rests his hand gently on my bump.

He doesn’t speak right away—just stays there, still and quiet, like he’s trying to memorize the feeling. Like he knows this moment might not come again, and he’s trying to hold onto it with everything he has.

“When’s your next doctor’s appointment?” he asks finally, his voice low.

I feel the weight of his hand on my bump, and for a moment, I’m frozen—caught between wanting to pull away and needing to hold on to whatever this is. His touch is so gentle, like he's afraid of breaking something.

I glance up at him, and for a split second, his eyes meet mine—there’s something there, something I can’t quite name. It’s not anger, not regret, just… a quiet kind of knowing.

“Next week,” I answer, my voice barely above a whisper. I don’t want to say more, don’t want to explain, because I know if I do, this moment might break, and I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

He nods, his hand lingering for just a second longer before he pulls it away. The air feels heavier, like something unspoken is hanging between us, but neither of us knows how to reach for it.

“Good,” he says quietly, but there’s no relief in his voice—just that same weight that’s been between us for too long.

The door creaks open, and Margaret steps in, her face lighting up when she sees us. Her smile is bright, almost like she’s trying to will the tension out of the room. “Good morning!” she says cheerfully, her voice filled with that contagious energy of hers.

But then, as she notices the quiet between Rafe and me, something shifts. Her eyes flicker to him, and for a second, there’s that small, unmistakable sadness in her gaze—like she’s just realized what we’ve all been trying to avoid.

She hesitates for a moment, then looks back at me, offering a forced but warm smile. “Dad, you’re leaving today, aren’t you?”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, just gives her a small nod, and that’s enough to make the smile slip from her face, just a little. She doesn’t say anything more, but I can see it—the way her shoulders sag slightly, the way she holds herself back from asking the questions she’s probably too afraid to voice.

—

The rest of the morning drags on, each minute stretching out longer than the last. Margaret seems determined to fill the time, to hold onto every second she has left with Rafe. They play cards at the kitchen table, and I can hear her giggling as she teaches him a dance she learned from TikTok. Rafe actually laughs—loud and genuine, like the world outside this moment doesn’t exist.

I stay in the kitchen, pretending to be busy, but really, I’m just watching them. Watching how easily they slip into this rhythm, like nothing’s changed, like Rafe hasn’t been gone for so long, like everything’s still okay.

But then a thought creeps into my mind, uninvited and heavy: Will he show up for this one? Will he hold the baby?

It’s a question I don’t want to ask, but it’s there, sitting in the back of my mind, because I can’t shake the feeling that he might walk away again—just when things start to matter the most.

Margaret insisted on getting ice cream at the beach, her face lighting up with excitement like nothing was different. She’s ahead of us now, lost in her own world as she walks down the boardwalk.

Rafe and I trail behind, side by side but not really together. He keeps his hands in his pockets, glancing at me every so often, but neither of us says a word. The silence stretches between us, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s going to walk away again once this is all over.

“She’s growing up so fast, isn’t she?” Rafe says, his voice quieter than usual.

“Yeah, she is,” I reply, my words simple, but they carry more weight than they should.

Rafe nods, his gaze following Margaret as she walks ahead, her energy still bright, her innocence still untouched. There’s a softness in his expression as he watches her, something almost wistful, like he’s realizing how much time has passed while he’s been away.

For a moment, it feels like the world slows down, and the distance between us feels a little smaller—until the silence falls again, heavier than before.

I shift the conversation, needing to know—needing something real before he leaves.

“Um... I was wondering if you’d be able to stay for a while. When the baby’s born.”

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. He looks ahead, jaw tight, like he’s turning the question over carefully in his mind. I can see the weight of it in his silence—the idea of staying, of showing up this time.

His face stays unreadable, but when he finally speaks, there’s a hesitation in his voice that says more than the words do.

“I don’t know. I’m not sure if I can commit to that right now.”

“Rafe, please,” I say, the words catching in my throat. “At least be there. You’ve missed every doctor’s appointment so far... the least you could do is be there when the baby comes.”

My voice shakes, not out of anger—but something closer to exhaustion. To hope, maybe. I’m not asking for everything. Just that.

Rafe’s jaw tightens, and when he speaks, there’s an edge to his voice.

“Don’t start with that. I don’t have time to make every single doctor’s appointment. I have a life too, you know.”

“Yes, I know, but—”

He cuts me off, sharper this time.

“But what? You think I don’t care about this baby? That I don’t want to be there for you?”

“I didn’t say that, Rafe,” I reply quietly, but the hurt is already there—pressed between the lines of everything we didn’t say.

Rafe’s frustration boils over, his voice rising as he snaps back, more defensive now.

“But that’s what you’re implying, isn’t it? That I don’t care—just because I can’t be at every damn appointment?”

I flinch at the intensity in his voice. Whatever fragile calm we had is gone now, replaced by the same wall he always throws up when things get too real.

He looks away, jaw clenched, then calls out, louder than he needs to, “Margaret! We’re heading back!”

His tone makes it clear—this conversation is over. Whether I got the answer I needed or not doesn’t seem to matter anymore.

The silence in the car is thick, stretching between us like miles. Margaret’s soft snores drift from the back seat, the only sound breaking the tension.

I stare out the window, the landscape blurring past, but all I can feel is the weight pressing down on me—loneliness wrapping itself around my shoulders like a heavy blanket.

I want to say something, anything, but the thought of opening up to Rafe feels pointless. He’d probably just call me dramatic, brush it off like he always does. So I stay quiet, holding it all in, because it feels safer than being dismissed.

—

We finally make it back to the house. Margaret heads upstairs to her room without a word, worn out from the day.

Rafe and I step into the bedroom, the air thick with tension. He goes straight to his bag, focused, methodical—folding, zipping, organizing like it’s the only thing he has control over.

I move around him, pretending to tidy up, but really just trying to fill the silence. We don’t speak. There’s too much to say and no safe way to say it, so we let the silence speak for us—loud and aching.

I stand near the dresser, pretending to rearrange things that don’t need rearranging. My voice comes out softer than I expect.

“You’ll call her, right? Not just for birthdays?”

Rafe pauses, his hands stilling over the half-zipped bag. He doesn’t look at me right away, just stares down like he’s weighing what to say.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment. “Of course I will.”

But something in the way he says it—too quick, too automatic—makes my chest tighten. I nod anyway, pretending to believe him, because it’s easier than pushing for more.

I nod, but it doesn’t feel like a promise—just words he thinks I want to hear.

Trying to soften the silence, I shift the weight in the room.

“I was thinking maybe… next time you visit, we could all go to Orlando or something. Take Margaret to Disney. You know, like a family trip.”

I try to keep my tone light, casual, but there’s hope tucked beneath it—thin and fragile. I don’t look at him right away. I don’t want to see his face if he’s already thinking of all the reasons it won’t happen.

Rafe lets out a short breath, his tone already edged with irritation.

“You want me to spend money on a whole trip to Disney? Do you even know how expensive that is?”

I look down, jaw tightening, the sting immediate. I wasn’t asking for luxury—just a moment. A memory. Something that might hold us together a little longer.

“I just thought it might be nice,” I say quietly, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice. “For Margaret.”

He doesn’t respond right away, and in the silence, it’s clear—I asked for too much again.

Rafe sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, his voice still edged with irritation.

“Just don’t suggest things you know we can’t afford.”

I nod slowly, swallowing the lump rising in my throat. Of course. I should’ve known better than to hope out loud.

“It wasn’t about the money,” I murmur, mostly to myself. “It was about doing something... together.”

But he’s already turned back to his bag, and I’m left standing there, feeling foolish for wanting more than he’s willing to give.

—

The moment is here, and it feels like time has slowed down. Margaret and I stand at the front door, silent, watching as Rafe hovers awkwardly in the doorway. His bags are packed, the car’s engine idling outside.

There’s something heavy in the air, something unspoken, and it hangs between us like a wall neither of us knows how to break.

Rafe shifts his weight, glancing between Margaret and me, but neither of us knows what to say. We all feel the same thing—this is it. This is the last time we’ll see him for who knows how long. And somehow, even though it’s been this way before, it feels different now.

Margaret’s the first to speak, her voice small, almost fragile. “Take care, Dad.”

Rfe looks down at Margaret, his expression both soft and pained. He responds to her goodbye with a gentle smile.

“I’ll see you later, alright little one?”

I can’t bring myself to say anything. The words feel stuck, tangled up in all the things I never got to ask. Instead, I just stand there, watching as he pulls away and walks out the door.

Rafe steps out, the door clicking shut behind him, and the silence that follows feels even heavier. I turn to Margaret, my heart aching as I take in the sadness etched across her face. It’s there in the way her shoulders slump, the quiet tremble of her lip, and the way her eyes shine with unshed tears—her brave face faltering under the weight of everything she doesn’t know how to say.

“What’s wrong, baby?” I ask softly, my voice breaking through the quiet.

She blinks, as if trying to push the tears back, but they fall anyway, one by one, and I know she’s holding onto the kind of hurt only a child feels when someone they love walks away.

“I... I don’t want him to go, Mom,” she whispers, her voice small and fragile.

“Well, he has to go, but he’ll be back before you know it,” I say, trying to sound more reassuring than I feel.

Margaret’s response is quick, her voice sharp with both annoyance and sadness.

“What, in another four months?”

I feel a pang in my chest at the bitterness in her tone.

“He has to work, sweetheart. Who else is gonna keep the lights on?” I answer, my words sounding more defensive than I intend.

She nods slowly, understanding the practicalities of his work, but her expression says everything—the disappointment is too heavy for her to just brush aside. She turns away slightly, trying to hide the way her shoulders slump.

“I know,” she mutters, but I can see the sadness still lingering in her eyes.

Margaret doesn’t say anything else. She just nods, her shoulders stiff as she turns away. Without another word, she heads for the stairs, her steps quiet but heavy, like she’s carrying something too big for her small frame.

I watch her go, the sound of her footsteps fading as she disappears upstairs. A lump forms in my throat, but I don’t chase after her. Not now. I know she needs space to process this, to make sense of what we both already feel.

The house feels emptier, quieter, and I’m left standing there, with the weight of everything left unsaid.

[blue-jisungs]

making up with them after a fight ♡

author's note. minho’s one is so relatable to me i hate it sm :(( like idk sometimes i don’t wanna be touched but i have struggles wording it out and im afraid ill hurt someone w my reaction… <\\3 sigh… yeah, can u tell it’s self indulgent?

warnings. yn falls asleep in a bathtub,, pls dont do that!!!, cursing, lmk if i missed anything

this is a continuation to fighting with them!!

┆彡 CHAN [ 찬 ]

you woke up in your and chris’ bed, which made your stomach turn. he must have brought you here.

suddenly sitting up, you noticed your boyfriend is absent. did he leave…?

jumping out of the bed you rushed to living room and were relieved to see him in the kitchen.

however, guilt washed over you upon seeing him so… lifeless, hurt.

“hi” you whispered, clutching your shirt. chan looked at you and smiled softly, nodding his head.

“morning. there’s some coffee for you, breakfast will be done in a few minutes” he hummed and returned his gaze to the pan.

“chan, listen… i’m sorry i snapped at you yesterday. yes, i was tired but…” you hesitated, voice cracking “that’s not an excuse, really”

“i’m just worried, y/n” he said and his features softened.

“i know, i know” you hung your head low, afraid that tears will escape any second “it’s just… work has been shit lately and it’s draining me emotionally and physically… and i just…”

“hey, hey. it’s okay. i understand it. that’s why i’m here, right? to help you. but to help you, i need to know first” chan walked up to you, wrapping his arms around you. this warm, secure hug made you feel at ease “but i won’t be able to know if we don’t talk”

“i know… i’m so, so sorry. for snapping and for acting like an asshole… i’m sorry channie” you cried, pouring your heart out.

“i forgive you, y/n. i already did. let’s just treat this as a lesson, okay?” chan soothed you gently “let it out, baby. i’m here”

┆彡 MINHO [ 민호 ]

you and minho became distant. you began touching and kissing him less, head overflowing with worries each time when physical contact involved. eventually, you stopped. you just greeted him in the morning or after work.

and minho hated this.

he knew it was his fault because he snapped you. and if he didn’t do anything about it, your relationship might be on a thread... if it wasn't already.

so one day, when you woke up… you felt a soft kiss being pressed to your arm. you smiled gently to yourself, trying to remain calm. what is he scheming…?

"y/nnie… i’m sorry"

you turned around, frowning. lino’s eyes softened but there was a glint of sadness in them.

"i snapped at you when i had a bad day already. and… it was one of those days when i just don’t want to be touched, even by you. it- it sounds so idiotic but i promise you, it’s not your fault…" minho started and you bit your lip. your hands ached to cup his face and– "i can see you’re thinking about it. it’s fine, i’m fine. no, actually i’m not. i missed your touch and kisses so so much. and i feel like an idiot because i’ve brought it on me but above all…”

he hesitated and tapped your finger. you nodded, granting him permission to hold you. in an instant, he shuffled closer and wrapped his arms tightly around you.

"i’m sorry i made you feel like that. i can’t even imagine how you must have felt, thinking if ill snap at you today too… im so… fucking… sorry… " minho’s voice broke off and you felt his body shiver.

"it’s okay, min. i forgive you, don’t feel guilty. just tell me next time, okay? i understand that on some days you’re feeling like you don’t want to be touched, i respect that" you hummed into his skin, drawing shapes "just tell me"

"i will" minho smiled softly, heart warming because of your words, kindness, and touch.

┆彡 CHANGBIN [ 창빈 ]

with a shaking hand you dialed changbin’s number, looking at the droplets falling in front of you. he picked up instantly.

"hello, baby?" he asked, concern in his voice. you took a deep breath, trying to control your breaking voice slightly at least.

"you… um, you were right…" you mumbled, sniffling.

silence fell and you were expecting an 'i told you so' or 'see?' but none of that happened.

"i’m sorry, pretty. i swear, next time i see them somewhere i’ll talk to them. i’ll pick you up, hm?" changbin asked and even though you knew he didn’t see, you nodded. your heart felt light that you didn’t fight again.

"i… um, i’m sorry. for being so defensive about them but… i was in the wrong…" a soft sigh left your lips and you heard a loud 'yah!' causing you to move your phone away for a bit.

"don’t apologize. i’m the one who should say sorry, truly. i just didn’t want you to get hurt again but… i took it to far, i said some messed up shit. sorry" chanbin’s voice was gentle and then suddenly you heard a honk. eyes widening, you saw his car "also i may or may not have already been waiting here…"

"dumbass” you scoffed, wiping your tears and going to his car with a smile.

┆彡 HYUNJIN [ 현진 ]

hyunjin entered the house, frowning upon the silence. your shoes were on the floor, dirty dishes in the sink, some miscellaneous items scattered around the living room.

"y/n?" he called out. no answer.

you weren’t in the bedroom either. hyunjin, growing anxious, opened the bathroom door.

he saw you sleeping in the tub, head almost barely above the water.

"yah, dumbass!" he yelped and dragged you a bit up, safe enough but still in the water. your eyes opened lazily, gaze unfocused.

"huh?" you blinked at him and saw genuine worry on his face.

"you fell asleep in the tub, y/n. i got so scared" he sighed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. he noticed your eye bags and it hit him like a truck: sure, dancing is his profession and he gets tired. but you, as a cleaning lady move as much as him and have to deal with other - usually assholes - people. you must be exhausted, even more than him.

then his gaze shifted to various scratches and bruises on your arms. you noticed it and smiled softly.

"it’s nothing, you know how clumsy i am. today i knocked over a broom and it hit my arm… it was kinda funny actually" you grinned but only saw sadness behind his eyes "hyune?"

"i… the thing i said the other day… i don’t mean it. i don’t think you’re just a cleaning lady, i shouldn’t say anything like this. and, it’s a bit stupid, but i realized just now… that at the end of the day, you’re probably as tired as me" he mumbled, voice small. you nodded, grabbing his hand.

"i won’t lie, what you said hurt me. but… i get it, you were tired and i got on your nerves–" you started.

"but i shouldn’t have bursted like that. let me take care of you now, hm? do you want me to wash your hair?" hyunjin asked, a cute smile finally blooming on his lips. you nodded energetically, causing him to giggle and place a tender kiss atop your head before proceeding to wash your hair.

┆彡 JISUNG [ 지성 ]

when he left the party, glad to finally be out… someone grabbed his arm. he turned around and saw beomgyu.

"what?" jisung grunted, looking at the stranger.

"dude, i don’t know what’s your problem but me and y/n were literally talking about you" beomgyu said, letting go of his arm "besides, i’m taken"

jisung wanted to snarl 'so what?' but the sudden reality hit him: he threw a tantrum like a spoiled brat and almost went home without you. beomgyu scanned his face suspiciously, seeing the gears turn in jisung’s head.

"y/n loves you, i can see it in the way her face lits up when she speaks about you" beomgyu said and shrugged, adding before leaving "thought i’d just let you know"

jisung went back, looking for you. it turned out you stayed outside, gazing into the sky.

"um, hi" he mumbled, sitting down next to you. you didn’t reply "i’m… sorry"

"that was fast" you teased, bitterness shining through your voice.

"beomgyu walked up to me. i acted like an idiot, i know. i was just… jealous, i guess" jisung murmured almost incoherently, shy about his feelings. you turned around and sent him a sky smirk.

"you were what?"

jisung rolled his eyes playfully.

"i was jealous, are you happy?" he repeated louder.

"it’s fine. just… don’t yell at me. and let me finish, for god’s sake. if you listened what i had to say, you’d know that we were discussing which guitar i should buy you as a gift" you explained and saw his eyes widen. you couldn’t possibly stay mad any longer at this boba-eyed quokka.

┆彡 FELIX [ 필릭스 ]

there was a doorbell echoing through the living room and you sent your friend a puzzled look. she shrugged and went to open the door.

"oh… y/n, it’s felix" she turned around and sent you a pitiful look. you just sighed, nodding. she let him in, scanning him head to toe threateningly, and left to her bedroom to give you some privacy.

"how did you know i’m here?" you asked, eyes avoiding his.

"(friend name) added a picture to the story that you’re here… so… um… i grabbed those and flew"

finally looking up, you noticed the bouquet of your favorite flowers in his hand. felix handed you them and sat down next to you on the couch, hesitantly tapping his fingers on his thigh. he wanted to hold your hand but wasn’t sure if you wanted to right now.

"i’m a bad boyfriend, aren’t i? even seungmin knew you were fired" he sighed with a sad smile "i’m so sorry. there’s nothing that could… be an excuse"

you took his hand in yours, humming in thought.

"will you work on it? i missed you. i know work is busy but at least talk to me, eat breakfasts with me… if we don’t work it out, i’m afraid–" your voice broke, not even wanting to say those words.

felix hugged you tightly, holding you as close as possible.

"i know. i will work on it, i promise. i’ll try to clear my schedule and we can go on a trip to jeju maybe?" he mumbled into your shoulder.

he just got a last chance and he wasn’t going to blow it.

┆彡 SEUNGMIN [ 승민 ]

returning home after three days, you entered the house only to see seungmin sleeping on the couch. the place was neatly cleaned, not even a single dirty spot in sight.

"oh, you’re back" seungmin murmured drowsily, leaning on his elbows "how was the stay?"

"good. why are you sleeping in the couch?" you asked, walking up to the fridge to put in the food your mom gave you. to your surprise, it was full with fresh groceries.

"i… uh, couldn’t really sleep well without you. i also have a thought about what i said and… listen, y/n, i’m sorry" he said "i really like your parents, i really do. i was just tired and… i don’t know what it’s like, that’s true. i didn’t consider your and their feelings… and i just hope your parents don’t hate me now because i’ll cry"

"i think they love you more than me at this point, my mom kept asking about you" you smiled softly, relieved to hear that you made wrong assumptions.

"just tell me a bit earlier if we’re going next time, okay?" he asked and you nodded with a happy grin "besides, it was lonely here without you"

┆彡 JEONGIN [ 정인 ]

"dude, what the fuck?" changbin asked, standing frozen. jeongin frowned "you were supposed to text eunjeong only to get the info about the cake, nothing more!"

that was true – they wanted to make you a surprise party because you passed your exams and eunjeong works in one of the best bakeries in the town, so they figured it’d be the best to text her.

"i got distracted… i didn’t know y/n would make such a fuss out of it" jeongin grunted and opened his phone to see your location on 'my friends'. he bit his lip, sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks. if he found out you were texting your ex… he wouldn’t be pleased about it either.

"what are you waiting for? go after her! and don’t spoil the surprise, too!" changbin pushed him out of the dorm.

in no time jeongin caught up with you, grabbing your hand. you turned around, wet stains on your cheeks. he felt a sharp sting in his heart upon realizing it’s his fault.

"listen… i didn’t mean any of that. but i need you to trust me" jeongin said, squeezing your hand. you hesitated.

"why? i trust you i just… don’t trust her" you mumbled, wiping your cheek.

"i know, i’m sorry. you’ll see soon, okay? can you forgive me? i love you so much, i just didn’t think it would hurt you that way" he added shyly. nodding softly, you tightened your lips into a line.

"okay…" you hummed.

hopefully the cake will be delicious enough to regain at least a piece of your trust.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @l3visbby ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @kazmura ,, @nicholasluvbot ,, @ameliesaysshoo ,, @weird-bookworm ,, @dazzlingligth ,, @litepowee ,, @ocean-minho ,, @lessthanpast ,, @s-e-s-a-I-e-n-e ,, @fire-08 ,, @eternalgyu ,, @haecien

[dilf-docs]

Misery Reigns My Lonely Neon Nights

old man!logan x younger fem!reader

summary: logan should've said no. should've just drove the pretty waitress home. that's his job. hers is to serve his cup of coffee to the brim. so why is he riding you to his house?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (cause we have a small daddy kink going on here.. hence the blog name BUT I DO HAVE A GOOD DAD), smut, this reeks of corruption kink for no reason other than me being a virgin whore, like he gets stalker-ish for a second but its logan howlett so we forgive him<3 ya está viejito, brief mention of suicide, sub logan edging on praising kink (if u squint), no protection but u gotta put the hat on the cowboy to ride the horse alr, riding, breeding kink??? angst (the depressing vibes are there cause they follow my writing like a shadow ijbol)

word count: 6,102 words (at the v crack of dawn.. i think i've gone insane FR it's 02:07 am and my brain its eating itself like im gonna start seeing logan in the corner of my room)

side note: newbie here after reading so many fanfics on tumblr but never publishing my own!! its hugh's birthday (well, its past midnight so no more but still!!! it was a couple hours ago) so i figured i should give it a try today cause that man does things to me ESPECIALLY as old man logan i can't lie and say the thought of him fucking me good and slow hasn't crossed my mind too many times 😩 we love sad hot old people in here so naturally my inaguration fic had to be done by him. also, i'm tired of scrapping for votes, comments, and interactions on wattpad so please treat me well during our first:// it's me moving to tumblr it's me hi i'm the problem it's me. i'm a feedback whore so pls leave tons of those!! also, english isn't my first language so if i make a grammar mistake pls do not tell me bc i have no respect for this language ―it just makes me cringe less to write smut on a language that isn't mine lol<3 but if there's any other mistake yes pls do tell me thank u OKAY BYE i needa quit yapping ENJOY dilf town<3

So it started something like this.

It was another simple nightshift for Logan. The weather humid, uncomfortably sticking the fabric of his white button shirt onto his skin. Even with the windows down. Those nights that the driving dragged on for long, like those cigarettes that now made him cough more than relax. The roads felt too long; his eyes too heavy.

Nothing new. Just about what to expect: money short, clients and traffic equally annoying. But that was the problem; nothing was new anymore.

He'd just finish dropping a customer close by, and since the tiring feeling didn't seem to leave his body just yet, a coffee wouldn't hurt. As a matter of fact, the need for a boost to make it home makes him get out of the car and limp his way into the first place his tired vision sees.

The rim of his recently adquired reading glasses slips as he climbs the stairs into the decades old diner, the decoration outdated. He understands; he feels the same way.

Neon lights flash his face when he enters the place and sits in the farthest booth he can find. The air is impregnated in grease and cheap coffee, but he waits at least fifty minutes to order, giving his body some time to rest. In the meanwhile, he tries to distract himself with the newspaper resting on the table, but God knows his eyes are too tired and his mind drifts every two words.

He hopes he doesn't get kicked out, judging from the attentive look he's receiving by a waitress resting on the bar. She looks as bored and tired as he does.

Maybe that's why he chooses her, raising his hand with order in mind. A black coffee. The waitress slides from her position and takes some steps to where he sits.

Her voice is sweet when she introduces herself, and Logan finds himself asking her again what her name is, pretending he's half deaf just to listen to it again.

"It's y/n" you repeat, oh so sickeningly sweet, he might have to skip on asking for sugar.

"Y/n" he savours the name on his lips, trying the tender sound, his eyes darting to the name tag, like he's confirming it. Testing to see if the young woman in front of him is real. Maybe his eyes linger a little too long, and the tip of your ears start to heat. Its the way he examines every feature on your face, like memorizing it in a sense, that makes you squirm. But maybe, just maybe, it's the small―brief, peak he gives to your exposed cleavage, pushing itself against the tight fabric of your uniform what truly gets your heart beating fast.

He looks like what your parents would warn you to stay away and your friends would talk behind your back. Rugged in a way that screams heartbreak, rough around edges your kind nature wishes to soften. It's unresonable to feel this way about a client you just met, but his aloof demeanor peaks your interest, so different from your usual costumers and familiar faces that pop up at the diner.

"Can I order you, darling?" his voice comes out deep, almost passing as a grunt. Just what you imagined it to sound. Why he's acting as his past self so effortlessly, after closing himself off to the point of going by entire days without talking more than three words, is concerning. Why the cute waitress who looks at him with doe eyes, expectant to take his order, is making him break the promise he made to himself not to get attached again―just live by enough to make it to the sea and put a bullet in his head.

"Well, that's just about my job" you joke, feeling confident for no reason. "But you can't order me".

"A damn shame" he chuckles, the sound deep, rumbling on his chest. It's been so long since he's laughed like that: carefree, without that pressing weight on his chest, that despite the sinking notion, sometimes feels more like a hole carved where his heart is supposed to be.

"So..." you trail off, unsure where to proceed after that sound that jolted your entire system awake, "what will you take?"

The banter dies, and Logan is dissapointed when she scribbles the dark coffee on her pretty round letter and walks away. He doesn't miss the sway of her hips, and almost calls her back just to hear her voice again. But he stops himself, because it's getting pathetic.

When she returns with her order, he almost regrets the comeback of his enhaced senses, her honeyed perfume mixed with the bitter smell of the freshly brewed coffee, creating an intoxicating mix.

His lips burn when he sips it, but that doesn't stop him from emptying the cup. Again. And again. All in the name for asking for more coffee, a magnetic force pulling him to the ground, making him forget he's a 200 and something year old man begging like a starved man for at least a fraction of her attention. He feels unworthy of your warmth.

He feigns interest on the newspaper when you return again (he's been stuck on the same paragraph ever since he sat down), the pot in your hands. If you've noticed he's emptied the cups faster than a normal person, you don't ask questions. He's thankful, but can see the amusement and confusion laced across your pretty face.

"More?" you ask, but it's unnecesary. He only nods, and you miss the chatter.

The closeness it's a challenge itself, the uniform's neckline practically shoved down his nose while she fills the cup to the brim. He hears his own heartbeat, the sound averting his attention from another "brief" glance at the cleavage. Is it intentional? Is your goodwill and act? Are you this cruel, playing with an old touch starved man like that?

God knows it's been long since he's had a helping hand during his relief hours.

He can't help it; he's a man, after all. So he seizes the moment and steals a glance. But his eyes meet yours, the wary green clashing with the cozy chocolate. There's warmth on your eyes, and he's looking at your tits like an animal. He pulls away, ashamed. The shirt feels a bit suffocating, and there's sweat on his forehead again. Great, you'll think he's a perv.

"Excuse me" you say, leaving his table. Logan is afraid of having fucked it up for thinking with this dick and not with his head. You were messing too much with his head, and now he'll pay the price. Fair, he thinks, for a perverted old man trying to woo a girl younger and far more innocent than him.

There's benevolance on her smile and blood on his hands.

The whole situation is stupid.

But then he's thinking of excuses (like saying it's his failing eyesight's fault) and something close to an apology, as if he cares a little too much about what you think. And then you come back.

"I forgot to bring you a napkin" she lies, leaving the piece of paper in the middle of the table. You laugh, and Logan let's you because 1. He deserves it, and 2. It's a sound as saccharine as the smell the freshly heated pies emit on the table across him.

You leave before he can even open his mouth, so all he's left with is the napkin that seems to have something written on it. Pervert, he reads, on the same calligraphy you scribbled on your bloc. He can't help but laugh, even with your watchful look on him.

That's how it continued.

Even if he had other rides and more energy to drive, he kept coming to the decaying diner just to see you. Almost as if he was forgetting his desperate need for the money, the boat goal further and further.

"You've forgotten about me" complained Charles, although his tone lacked of bite. "But I'm not mad that you've had".

He'd go on, rambling about living life but Logan just laughed. Yet, maybe he was right. Didn't even need his powers to know it.

Now, you? you simply couldn't get enough of your favorite costumer. Of his late stays until you closed, sometimes not muttering more than necessary, yet his company, even if curt, proved to be what you needed to make it through work, giving you a legitimate reason to yearn the before tedious night shifts.

Despite this two month weird relationship, Logan is as a stranger to you as he was the first day, no matter how many times you've tried to get him to talk. In the end, all your conversation efforts feel more of a monologue than a chat.

He knows about your mom and your dad, one strict the other dead. He knows most of your friends names, what you're studying and what you wanted to. Your dreams and your hopes, your aspirations, failures, and some other things you'd never say to anyone else out loud. All and nothing. And he listens, sometimes asking questions, but never about himself. He never takes the lead.

So frustration from the Logan enigma pours into you, the puzzle pieces layed out over your mind, consuming your thoughts. So now you're stubbornly cleaning the same grease spot on a table you've already wipped before, and that, coincidentally, it's the booth in front of Logan, the permanent resident of your head during these past weeks. You might as well make him start paying rent by now, his power and hold over you ridiculous.

"It's not going anywhere. Take it easy" he mocks you.

There's a bit of annoyance when you reply back, although it's mostly superficial. "Don't know what you're talking about" comes out your dry response, earning a low chuckle from him.

"How about you sit for a moment?" he offers, ignoring your apathy. "You're almost done cleaning up".

If his ever changing attitude isn't enough, closing this night's shift is as tiring.

Logan doesn't expect you to obey, but now you're sitting across from him, and a voice in his head says you maybe feel sorry for this lunatic old man.

You're so close, he can see the eye bags and sorrow you are far tired to try to hide.

"I have to finish cleaning" you explain, "we're about to close".

He doesn't know why he says it, or what takes over him when he says:

"I could wait for you"

He surprises himself and surprises you too.

"No need" you assure, and why does he feel so dissapointed. It's stupid. "My friend picks me up".

Ah, yes. The friend with the perfect stupid smile that picks you up every night. Not like he parks his car until you leave and sees the scene unfold each time, his white knuckle grip on the wheel a bit too much when the young boy opens up your door. Makes him see red, knowing he's your age and maybe the breathe of fresh air you need. Not a man far older, who bears too many sins and scars in and out.

"I see" he says after some minutes in silence, retracting his impulsiveness. "I'm sorry if I made you-"

"No!" you clarify hastily, "it doesn't bother me".

He smiles unconsciously in relief.

"Well, me neither. I insist. If you change your mind" he's practically begging, despite his monotone tone.

But you don't.

The place closes and Logan is forced to get in the car. He lights a cigarette, in no hurry to return home. The lighter lights up while the diner's light goes off. You and your boss come out, biding each other goodbye. She leaves and you're is left alone, hugging your body in the early morning cold. 

He sees you wearing particular clothes, for the first time. He takes a slow drag on his cigarette, eyes running up and down your bare legs, the fragile fabric of the skirt fluttering in the wind. He exhales, watching as you dials your phone several times, getting no response, obviously frustrated.

He mutters something under his breath, and maybe there is a God after all. He starts the car, approaching her, who has already noticed it, probably because of the noise of the engine.

She looks scared, but Logan rolls down the window so she can see it's him.

"Need'a ride?"

Just by his reverberant sound you could accept. But you try to play cool for a while, despite your aching bones and need to get home.

"He doesn't answer" he was right, "my friend".

I know, he wishes to say, but he's the same hot headed asshole who walked through the doors of the X mansion for the first time, so his tone will be laced with irony. He doesn't want you to see him as an intense hot blooded mouth.

I could take you. His head pounds but he shuts the emotions down.

He shoves the knot on his throat down and asks as casually as possible, "do you live close?"

"Just around the corner" you answer. A beat, your frame bending so he can see your face from the driver's sit, the cleavage saying hello again. How considerate of you. "Do you really want to do this?"

Do you really want to do this?

The question rings on his ears. It holds more than just the favor. Logan knows they have a certain tension between them that he no longer wants to ignore. For the first time it seems to be reciprocated; palpable, and he is surprised to hear his heart beating loudly, so accustomed to hearing others' with his sharp senses, constantly forgetting what his own sounds like. Yours also beats erratically, despite your calm composure.

You arch an eyebrow, amused. "I can't believe you waited for me. Your family must be worried."

Logan realizes you're trying to test waters. So he raises his hand discreetly and places it on the door, so you can see the lack of a ring. As expected, your eyes travel to his free finger, and he can swear he sees you breathe with relief, which is funny, because in case you hadn't picked up until now, Logan is very much fucking alone.

"In case you changed your mind," he answers. "I have nowhere else to be."

That is enough of an invitation for you to get in the car.

"I was going to open that door for you" he protests.

You only laugh as you buckle the seatbelt. "It's not that big of a deal, really. You've already done enough for me by doing me the favor".

"It's not that big of a deal" he repeats your words, "as long as I'm of help, that's enough for me".

He smiles wistfully, remembering better times. A part of him still aspires to be that hero everyone loved and remembered, something that clearly doesn't happen anymore (or if it does, it's rare), given the lack of recognition of his former identity in El Paso. He shakes his head, focusing back on the street in front of him. It's too late to get fucking sentimental.

"I like to help too…" you confess, meekly. Logan sighs, how could he not know? "My father used to say that I had the kindest heart he'd ever met. I hope it stays that way, and that when he looks down on me, he's proud".

It hurts Logan to see you be so hard on yourself, as if he didn't do the same.

"I bet all the customers in the place would say you're the sweetest thing they've met", he sees you smile from the corner of his eye, and can't help but emulate it. "Believe me, you're their favorite".

"Thank you, Logan" you say sincerely. However, the affliction that he hates to see crosses your face. So gloomy that you don't even seem the same person.

You wipe away an unexpected tear, but Howlett is faster and notices. You turn around, looking towards the window. Then, you catch a glimpse of his license.

"So… you're a driver" you try to break the silence that Logan has put without knowing why. Maybe to give you some space after being sentimental and opening up again to this closed off wall name Logan, but he knows it's a lie. He's scared. After wanting so much to be closer to you, he cowers, not trusting himself and what he would do trapped in a small space with such an attractive woman. Besides, the tension from the previous conversation was still there.

"You judging me now, honey?" the pet name rolls off his tongue before he catches it. He tries to play it cool, continuing the banter, carrying the same tone. "The only thing necessary to make you trust me was to give you a free ride?

"I'm in your car, Logan. I got in without thinking" you laugh. "I believe that's enough trust"

"Then, I'll keep doing you favors. Maybe if I do…" he trails off.

Your voice drops an octave, provocative. "Maybe what?"

His knuckles grip the steering wheel until they turn white.

"Maybe…" he hesitates, "maybe…"

"It's here" you point out. Shit, Logan curses, braking abruptly without meaning to.

"See you tomorrow" you bid as a goodbye, getting out of the car. Logan misses your smell.

So he sticks his head out the window, like a begging dog.

"How about now?" he says a bit forcefully.

Your face shows surprise and something else.

"You're getting attached" you reply, and he doesn't know why there seems to be sadness in your voice.

"I just keep coming back for the coffee" he defends himself.

You laugh, shaking your head "Now, then. For the coffee, clearly."

"I can leave" he says. Yet, makes no move to leave.

You sigh, giving him one last look. Surrender, he reads.

"You're a driver, right?" he nods, taking in every word coming of your pink plush lips. "Then let's drive off. Anywhere" your voice trails off, and you're just so tired of everything, you'll just let go yourself with the flow. "I'll go wherever you go..."

And this is how it ends.

When you wake up, it's almost dawn.

Logan had suggested you to sleep, claming the road where he was taking you to be long. He had covered you with his jacket, even if your body was burning from nerves.

Why had you agreed? Your mom would probably smack your head in search for some sense, and your reckless friends would encourage you to do it for the sake of a story. But something about Logan makes you feel safe, despite not knowing anything from him. It's sort of a sense of protection―like he would never hurt you, that envelops him. Everyone else would call you crazy; only you can understand that.

When your eyes adjust to the light, you realize you're in a line of cars.

"Did you bring me to the border?" you exclaim groggily, still in a sleepy voice.

"Good morning" he answers instead.

You rub yoou eyes, settling into the passenger seat.

"You're not going to kidnap me, right?" you question, half joking half serious.

Logan laughs, "Not only that. I'm also going to throw your body in a mass grave"

"It's not funny," you pout, although you're laughing too.

Once you've crossed the border, Logan drives a few more minutes, until he reaches a restricted area.

“I live here” he answers before you can ask, “saves rent and questions”

After opening the locks, you can better appreciate the place. Well, appreciate may not be the right word.

“It's an abandoned smelting plant” you voice out loud.

Logan just nods. You realize that he didn't like the comment, so you try not to talk about it anymore.

“Come” he gets out of the car, going to open your door. He offers you a hand, and you fail to hide your smile.

“You didn't miss this time, huh? Quite a gentleman” you praise. Then, add jokingly, “if you choose to kill me, at least I'll die taken care of".

“Stop talking nonsense and go inside” he scolds but smiles.

Inside, the abandoned plant is exactly what you expected.

"We're alone" Logan says, after leaving to check. He opens the door to his room, letting you in. There's not much inside, just a bed and scattered things. A yellowish light begins to filter through the broken glass. "I'mma change. Be right back".

You begin to explore your surroundings, to avoid thinking about the impact of the situation. Two things could happen: leave or stay. Maybe everything was going too fast, but you prided yourself on your spontaneity, often confused with impulsiveness. Others would say it was your naive nature: too innocent for your own good.

What had led you to accept without further ado? Was trust enough, that you had even fallen asleep in his car?

"S'rry for the wait"

You notice that Logan's gotten rid of his formal attire, leaving him in just slacks and an old white tank top. His muscles flex with every movement, making you swallow involuntarily. He still retains his extraordinary physique, despite his greying hair. She can't help but stare at the scars that cover his exposed skin, her fingers itching to trace them.

"Haven't they told ya' t's rude to stare?"

You look away, embarrassed. Logan walks over to the bed, bumping into you in the process, bodies barely touching. Still, an electric shock runs through you. You hug yourself, scared, aware of the effect he has on you.

"Logan" she dares to ask, "what are we doing?"

He finally looks at you. You feel naked under his intense gaze.

"What do you want us to do?"

His voice comes out low, like a growl. You stand in place stiff, unable to form a word.

"Come on, honey", the nickname comes out of his lips so easily, it hurts. "Are ya losing your voice now? Got into my car a while ago without thinkin', what's changed?"

You slowly approach Logan, each stride calculated. He watches you in silence, a silence as hostile as the wind hitting the broken windows, watching you remove your clothes, until all that's left is your bra and that skimpy skirt, as if you knew he liked it.

"Logan…" you whisper his name like a prayer, letting yourself fall on his legs. He holds you with his hard calloused fingers, like a promise.

Don't let me fall. Don't let me go. Don't leave me.

"Use your words, sweet thing" the trepidation condenses between, "we're grown up now, aren't we? Use your words"

If by words he meant feeling your lips against his, it's enough to have Logan following his impulses, using his strength to embrace your body until they feel like one, the scars on his hands feeling like your own. Your lips move in sync, and it's almost so casual, so learned, so meant to be, that fear appears in Logan, soon forgotten with the symphony of moans that come from your lips.

"Tell me" he pauses, breaking away from the kiss (something you don't like and express in the form of a pout), "what do you want?"

Logan tastes like cigars and whiskey, a combination you hate and the reason you quit your old job at the bar, but on his lips, it's an intoxicating taste.

"I want you, Logan" you whisper, hot breath against his skin, “you”.

He resumes the kiss, an electric shock of hunger and need between you: lips parted, colliding, teeth almost clashing against each other.

His fingers hesitate with a delicacy that belies his rough touch, the tips of his worn fingers lifting the fragile cloth of your skirt first, revealing soaking wet panties he goes crazy just at the sight of. The smell is sugary, sicklingly, so now he's hard and pulling at the clasp of your bra first, exposing your nipples, which he rolls and pinches mercilessly. A gasp escapes you—then another, and another as Logan pushes his thigh between your legs. The friction is delicious, almost painful against your pulsing center.

His hand firm up his position, securing itself onyour bare legs as you digs her nails into him. His labored moans turn into a guttural growl.

“You think I’m not capable?” he mocks, stealing another moan from her, “that I can’t keep up with you, you pretty young thing?”

You deny it, but Logan takes it upon himself to show you that he can take you like he's in heat, the ghost of his old self taking over in his almost animal way of fucking you, hips arched, muscles flexed and tense, his teeth appearing every time he opens his mouth, reminding you of fangs. They dig into your exposed skin, leaving bruises that will take time to disappear from your shoulders and neck, marking what belongs to him.

The hardness of his skin meets your soft when he grabs you by the waist.

"Look at you" it slips from his tongue, ecstatic. He's a goner, saliva dripping from the messy and sloppy kisses he leaves through your collarbone, "so good and so pure. I bet you're innocent, that you haven't seen what I've seen..."

His pupils darken, a strange mix between torment and desire in his gaze. Hungry and violent.

"Will you let me show you how's a real man s'ppossed to treat a woman?"

He feels shame settle in his belly, the hunger to possess her almost virgin body fueling his dark desire of errasing her sweet smile until she's an unintelligible mess of sobs. To show her what she would complain about, so she'll never slettle for less. So you can feel what it's to be taken care of―handled. And then he'll fill you up with his seed, so no other man will take what's his. His sweet little thing. Oh, he's so going to hell for this.

But maybe he likes pain.

"That's it, honey" he plays with the fabric of your wet panties, pulling at the loose threads in the delicate fabric. "Let me show you".

You take it off, and Logan lies back against the bed, spreading his legs and unbuttoning his belt and pants―a clear invitation to repeat the previous position, except this time, his hands are on top of your hips, squeezing the soft skin. He doesn't take his eyes off you, his gaze reserved only on you. If the adrenaline from before pushed you, now the confidence gained motions you to finish the task. It's just the push you need, remembering that this is what it feels like to be with a real man as you throw a leg over his hips, sitting your ass right on top of the bulge marked on his underwear.

“Right… there…” he barely manages to formulate a coherent train of words, the years of lack of help in attending to his needs leading to overstimulation, “good girl.”

The compliment makes you increase the pace of your hips, his labored breaths a sound so rich and so manly it makes you squirm.

You need it desperately, rubbing your increasingly wet clit against him, riding the fabric. His scruffy beard barely hides the smug smile that graces his lips.

“Like this?” she whispers, and Logan can no longer contain himself, staring at his sweaty, ripped body failing to please her completely. It feels so good it aches, and he can't believe this is how he's ended. But if that means having your pretty face on top of him, covered in his marks, dripping on your joint sweats, well maybe it isn't so bad.

“How can I repay you, honey?” he pleads. He'll try he's best. He just wants to give you a glimpse of the way his whole world has light up ever since he stumbled in that greasy diner.

“You said you were going to show me” it comes out almost as a purr, expectant, “and I’m waiting”.

Logan takes it as his cue, pulling down his underwear until his member is exposed, chuckling darkly when you swallow at the sight.

"Don't tell me you're scared already" he teases, "look how you have me… you can't leave me like this…"

You stifle a scream as you feel every inch of his thick cock enter your sensible walls, trying to fit his member inside of your needy body.

"So tight for me" he stammers, using his hands to keep you in place, on top of him. The only sound in the silence of that place that smells of death is that of their skin colliding―vulgar, the obscenity highlighted by being the only thing that can be heard in the small room.

Even though his stamina has dropped over the years, he thrusts into you relentlessly. Logan fucks you senseless, his balls buried deep in your dripping pussy, a constant rhythm of avid suction with each entry to your walls.

He takes a moment to see you as you take something from the nighstand he doesn't remember putting there.

"Look what I found" you whisper in the middle of your moans. Logan recognizes the shine of metal in front of his eyes, "so Wolverine?"

You say it so easily, like it's not the first time. With acceptance; it scares him.

Do you recognize him? Are you not scared? Why haven't your eyes go from curiosity and kindness to cold and rejection?

He should panic, rip off his dog tags from your hands and pretend he doesn't know who he used to be, but he's so deep inside you and so enraptured, he can only manage to gently take them from between your fingers and put them around your neck, the cold metal against your warm, bare skin creating an electric shock.

"I want to see them on you"

He likes to watch it hang over his face while you're on top, panting heavily as she repeats his name, slurring her words. It dangles with every thrust, the silver glistens in the seeping sun, just like the sweat that adorns her skin.

"Are you that needy of your old man? " he teases, caressing her. He smacks the curve of his ass, “You want more?”

His veiny length makes quick work of your needy hole, more moans escaping your lips.

“Shit,” you curse, wincing at the pain that begins to increase. “Yes, Logan. Just like that. Nobody ever treated me like that, nobody's made me feel like this-”

He moans, pleased with the praise, seeing he isn't as lacking as he thought. Making you feel good is his priority, but he won't lie and say he doesn't want to feel it too.

In an attempt to distract yourself, your eyes try to focus on him: searching his features, memorizing every scar, every wrinkle, every little grey hair.

“You’re perfect, Logan,” you mumble through a moan, the confession hiding more than you want to say and more than he cares to admit.

Before he can process it though, the fire in his stomach signals the arrival of his impending orgasm.

There's something delightful about the way you can barely speak, a mess of moans that sound like his name, eyes half-lidded and lips swollen alongside your messy hair.

He feels almost sick to be consuming something that doesn't and shouldn't belong to him. He doesn't deserve to have such a beautiful, young woman riding him while she clings to him like he's the last thing in this world, him: a worn, old man who can't keep up with her.

His member spasms, and it's got you feeling it all inside your walls, causing him to close his eyes in the process as well.

It's too soon, Logan thinks in shame, but it's been so long and you feels so good, he let's it go:

Thick whips of his cum shoot out of his member, drawing out more than you would've imagined. You don't have much time to think about it, for the orgasm hits you immediately, fingers curling and eyes rolling to the back of your skull.

Logan feels his tip getting wetter, and the extra lubrication is a nice finishing touch.

“God,” he gasps, “what a mess…”

You avoid looking at him, taking one of his hands in yours, kissing the red and violet painted knuckles. If you do, you'll give away what you feel, the same way her memory burns in Logan's chest, more now than ever, as his mouth tastes just like you.

Dependency.

Devotion. Absolute. Sick.

Maybe that was what he felt. This weird feeling. That abyss piercing his chest but never killing him (so much for regenerating...), pressing his heart with a crushing force whenever it threathened to beat again. Logan was content with rather nothing, always a man who didn't ask for much, and since the death of his family―the X-men, less.

"You should go" he mutters in defeat, the shame washing over. Even if he'll miss your warmth, even if he doesn't want you to leave at all. "It's for your own good, y/n. Pretend you don't know me and turn around. Go away" he insists yet gets stuck on his words, "you're not stupid. Then you'll know it's good for you and you'll never speak to me again"

He looks at the ground, cowardly, because he wants your lust filled warm look to be the last memory he remembers. Not whatever look you're giving him now.

So Logan closes his eyes and counts to ten. When he opens them, you'll be gone. It'll be a dream, something too good to be true. Short lived, like every good thing in his life.

"Logan..." you calls his name. So softly it seems like a breath.

You're still here.

"Logan" you call again, more firmly.

"Logan" you don't give up, cupping with one hand his face gently, "look at me".

When he looks up, he comes across a heartbreaking vision. You cry, tears falling like waterfalls down your cheeks. But that's not the most devastating thing, no: it's the look in your eyes, as if you've shared his pain. As if you've had suffered the same things he had suffered; a twisted reflection of him.

"Of course I understand you" you take his hands, and Logan feels that same strange warmth he felt the first time when your hands brushed his with the diner's menu. "I've also lost people… people I loved. Don't you think it hurts me to see the world go on as if nothing happened? Everyone forgets, Logan. But I can't; there's not a day that goes by when I don't think about them"

For a moment, you stop crying, and the hidden internal turmoil he tried so hard to decipher finally makes sense.

"I don't know what you've been through either, but I can promise you, that I understand you more than you think…" it seems like you'll say something else, but you stop and say instead. "Think, Lo: would these people want to see you like this?"

"It's what I deserve" he murmurs barely, his voice constipated but without shedding a single tear.

"It's not what we want, Logan. Please" you sniff, pained "stop being so hard on yourself".

"I'm not who you think I am" he insists. You're still naked on his bed, and he feels dirty for having you like this. For taking you to his home and fucking you raw out of your innocence. "I'm not a good person."

"No, Logan" you seem hurt by that statement. You trace one of his most recent scars with a touch so compassionate, that he feels your fingertips burn, "you are a hero".

Your words were so sweet, so comforting. He wanted to sink into your lap, which smelled like flowers and tasted like safety. A home; a life that had been taken from him. He wanted to believe everything you said―feel who you believed he was. Not this pathetic, tired and apathetic version of himself, but the old version: the version that inspired respect, that despite his tough exterior, had a family he loved. Because he had a heart. Now he feels like he has no soul: no purpose, nothing.

But maybe you are the answer.

Before he can change his mind, you blurt out “can I stay?”

That morning, in that old bed that creaks under his weight, Logan discovers that feeling alive again isn't so bad.

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @userparamore

[elylyfe]

pair .ᐟ teru minamoto x reader

w.c .ᐟ 5.3k

synopsis: .ᐟ Everyone has a safe space where they can show their true persona. For Teru Minamoto, every moment where he can be alone with you is his safe space.

content .ᐟ might be ooc, pure fluff, no pronouns used

a/n: my debut piece yay !! ignore the incorrect grammar usage pls 🥲 english is not my first language and this is not proof read. teru might be ooc bc this is a character prac plz forgive me 💔

🌸 .ᐟ request & taglist is open!!

The golden hues of the setting sun spilled through Kamome Academy's windows, casting long shadows on the marbled floors. Students fill the halls with their chatter, providing a background noise for the quiet atmosphere in the student council room.

Teru's hands rustle through the rough pages of the stapled papers, the rustling pages filled his ears as he reached for the yellow colored highlighter, opening it with a soft click. A quiet humn left his lips, the printed words and numbers brighten in a shade of yellow. The steady scratching of pens filled the quiet room, his movements stopping as the door opens with a creak.

Familiar footsteps reach his ears bringing a smile on his lips, his shoulder relaxing as he slumps on his chair.

"Is that the budget file?" Disbelief drips from your voice as you got closer to the 6'2" council president, teru did not look up as he continues to flip through the file. "Didn't I told you to stay away from it and take a break for a while?" Your brows furrow as you place your hand in his, snatching the file away from his sight before he could protest.

Your actions elicit a gentle chuckle from him. His hands wrap on your arm, tugging you lightly as he faces you.

"You were busy. Wouldn't it make me a bad boyfriend if I don't lessen the burden of my girlfriend?" He grinned, resting his cheek against his palm and tilting his head. You shook your head, you dragged a chair beside him, the wooden legs screeching against the floor before halting in place.

You sat down on the oaked chair, putting your bag on the table and snatching the pen and highlighter from his grasp.

His eyes focused on you, fingers drumming against the table lazily as he observed for a bit. "My girlfriend is so harsh to me." A pout replaces his grin, faking sadness for pity. "Don't I deserve a reward for my hard work?" You huffed, halting your movements as you looked at him. "Ignoring my orders to rest doesn't exactly earn you a reward does it?" You tilt your head, daring him to defend himself.

Light laughter escapes his lips, his hands reaching to rustle your hair before putting his arms up in mock surrender. You bit your lips, fighting back a smile from his actions before returning your focus to the file Infront of you.

An idea sparked in your head. Unzipping your bag, you reached inside and pulled out a familiar lightweight book. You double-checked the cover—its exaggerated art and fancy font confirming it was the right one. With a satisfied smile, you slid the book to Teru.

He raised a brow. "What is this?"

"In the meantime, why don't you read my favourite book?" Your hands slip on the front page, opening it. "Tell me which character do you think has the most romance tension afterwards." His fingers graze the rough texture of the book, pulling it close to him, he lazily goes through the pages. His movements come to a halt as something slips out—a small bookmark.

He picks it up carefully as if it were fragile glass that could chatter with a single touch. The bookmark was a miniature version of him holding a banner that reads: Happy Reading~

Shaking his head, laughter escaping his lips, warmth blooming in his chest. "You're really something."

The room becomes quiet, filled only by the flipping of papers, the scratch of pens and faint gliding of highlighter.

You sat back, exhaling deeply. The banana scent of the highlighter lingering as you pop the lid back on, the scent soothing your nerves. Stretching your arms above your head—you look towards the direction of teru.

His brows furrowed as he blinked, flipping to the last page, lips pressed in a firm line.

'he looks so serious..' your arms fell to your side, lightly gripping the edge of your seat as you take in the sight of him.

"I like the friends of each respective leads." He speaks, breaking the silence between you.

"Huh?" You blinked, caught off guard.

Then it hits you—you had asked him for his thoughts earlier. Warmth crept on your cheeks as he shuts the book with a thump.

Teru slides the book near you, hands making contact with the edge of your seat and tugging you closer with a knowing look in his eyes.

"They balanced eachother." He muses, continuing his dialogue. "He's responsible yet has to maintain a mask, she's a bit chaotic but she's just being her." Teru knowingly looks at you with a smile. "They know how communicate well and help the leads develop a good relationship." You cleared your throat, taking in the information that he gives to you.

Realisation dawns on you, a grin appearing on your lips.

"Doesn't that sound familiar?" You playfully replied, his eyes widening for a fraction before it reverts back. This time, you could see that his eyes seems to have a different glint.

"You're right." He copies your grin, hands reaching to rustle your hair. Hopefully you couldn't hear the loud thumping of his heart from your words.

"You should reward your poor, overworked boyfriend who's been abandoned by his 'oh-so-dedicated' significant other." His arms reach to your waist, pulling you close with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Lest I act up—and Akane or any stray superstition, will be on the receiving end of my anger." You rolled your eyes at his dramatics, sighing and hugging him.

You are the only breath of fresh air he’ll ever need—the only place he can truly rest.

[mymegrokosmos]

svt reactions to losing their baby privileges (as a prank)

seungcheol - pouts. you hate him. he is clinging to you like a human backpack all day. trying every trick in the book to get you to slip up and call him baby just once. whines and complains. will throw several tantrums about it. the man is sulking and bothering you constantly until you give in and return them. you're going to have to supply him with plenty of kisses to make up for the emotional distress you caused his poor heart.

jeonghan - is giving you the silent treatment. oh so you want a divorce? you don't love him anymore? okay, two can play at that game. acts like he's not bothered bc he needs to keep the upper hand but just know you're going to have a lot of groveling to do and he IS going to hold this against you for months to come. will need reassurance every time you joke about breaking up with him (pls say you don't mean it he is just a little bean).

joshua - shocked and appalled. man's flabbers were gasted. since when did you have the audacity?? just stares at you with those wide doe eyes like you did the unthinkable (you did). hand on heart palm to forehead big gasp faux faint laying across your entire body while he whines about how mean you are level dramatics. not stopping until you ply him with kisses and get his name right (it's baby to YOU). will stay salty about it for months. playfully of course, he knows what gets him extra affection.

jun - takes a minute to process. wracking his brain to figure out what he did. brings you flowers, does all the chores, makes your favourite dinner. astounded it's a prank bc how could you? he was having a heart attack thinking you wanted to break up and you think it's funny?? sitting alone and side eyeing you for the rest of the evening. do not even think about sneaking into his arms for cuddles tonight he is still mad at you (he'll allow it anyway with only a little extra grumbling).

hoshi - is not having it. will trail around after you and ply you with affection until you tell him what's happening. is not letting go of you until you stop using his govt name. who decided you were allowed to stop calling him pet names? he is calling your mom to see if he's done anything to upset you recently and getting her advice. whining. so much whining. so many sad eyes. he is going to be a big baby and throw a tantrum about it. might genuinely cry if you drag it out too long pls take pity on him.

woozi - surprised but doesn't read too much into it at first. catches on and acts like it doesn't bother him bc if you get no satisfaction out of it surely you'll give them back faster, right? inside he is not as cool as he seems. will think ab any way he might have upset you recently. makes small gestures like getting your favourite snacks on his way home or lending you his sweater when you're cold in the studio and is keeping an eye out for any changes in your behaviour just in case. pls reassure him it was just a prank.

wonwoo - knows what you're up to. will play the game right back until you're the one begging HIM to stop. secretly pleased it worked bc honestly he was hating every minute. please never do that again. sulky but subtle about it. you don't exist to him until you give his pet names back. will insist you use them extra to make it up to him after. and also maybe be a little clingier than usual for a while. he's petty and this will come back to bite you in the bedroom or in banter at any group gathering bc he’s making the most of the power it gives him for as long as he can milk it. forgives but does not forget. ever.

mingyu - whining, stomping his feet, throwing a tantrum. will insist on remaining delulu until you fix it. try again his name is not mingyu it is baby, please use it. preferably repeatedly. sad puppy eyes. so much clinging. you are going to be absolutely suffocated and he will not stop pouting or yapping in your ear about how much you hate him until you kiss his entire face and and spoon him all night to make up for it. his heart is still racing. needs sm reassurance and will use it as an excuse to get extra kisses until he recovers (give him a few weeks you SCARED him).

dk - doesn't realize what is happening at first. his brain goes blank. what do you mean? take that back?? might cry about it number 2. will either spam you or follow you around non-stop yapping to ask a million questions about what he did and how he can fix it. getting you flowers, chocolates, cute plushies, all of your favourite things. running you a hot bath and pestering mingyu to make your favourite dish. giving you a massage you name it please just use a pet name already he is literally begging.

minghao - gives you the LOOK over the top of his book. you think you're funny? this is now a competition and he's winning gold. king of dry one word answers until you're plying him with pet names and affection just to get more than one word replies back again. waits you out and is smug about it. how cute of you to think you could beat him. never do it again. he's going to have to meditate for three days. that was STRESSFUL. yapping about how mean you are once you're cuddled up in bed later bc scolding you makes you hold him tighter and pepper his pretty face with more kisses.

seungkwan - side eye. silent treatment who? all he knows is whining, complaining and being loud about how much you hate him. you want him to die? cool. he's just going to waste away in front of you then. arms crossed, foot tapping, ignoring anything you ask him until you stop calling him 'seungkwan'. your kisses are not enough to make up for the heart attack you just gave him there had better be a big flashy apology complete with flowers, coffee and cuddles. a little gift or surprise date planned just for him wouldn't hurt in making it up to him either. he will be noting every slight change in tone and constantly reminding you about this for months to come.

vernon - at first he plays it cool. just rolls his eyes, laughs it off and throws you a playful 'nah, try that again babe'. he is sweating on the inside when you don't give up. thought not giving you the reaction you wanted would make you stop but if you stick it out he will fold. stops responding when you call him by his first name. what was that? oh but you never call him that how was he supposed to know you meant him? is not above using the anime boy stare and fluttering his lashes at you if it gets him what he wants.

dino - not funny please don’t make him beg he is panicking. will cry. pls assure him you're not upset. sm clinging and whining. prepare to be cuddled within an inch of your life for weeks. his poor heart. please do not joke ab breaking up for a while, he's sensitive. rushing to do or get anything you ask. brings you all your favourite things. makes you dinner, or tries his best to. sad sad eyes. whatever you want just stop calling him his actual name before he has a full on menty b he's so stressed fr.

[zablife]

Earth Angel

Benny Cross x gf reader

Summary: After running from the one person who's ever truly loved him, Benny returns to see if you'll take him back, but there's a surprise waiting.

Warnings: language, pregnancy, angst but ends with fluff

A/N: A short imagine I couldn't stop thinking about. If you like it, pls let me know in all the usual ways. Comments are love 💕

No spoilers here!

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny loved you. It had only ever been you. He knew that now that he was returning home as fast as his bike could carry him. The past six months he’d spent running from it were a mistake he deeply regretted and he only hoped you would forgive him.

If he was honest with himself, the unconditional love you’d shown scared him and he knew he’d eventually fuck it up, the way he always did. So he packed his shit and left in the night without explanation.

Afterward, you’d spent many hours crying for your lost love so when Johnny met him on the road, he relayed your sadness. The shame of it burned deep to Benny's core. It was only made worse by Johnny’s words of your continued devotion. “She still loves ya, kid…Always will.”

The chance meeting reminded him of your goodness, the nickname for you still on the tip of his tongue. Earth angel he'd always called you, a woman too good for this world. You deserved better than him, but if his presence made you happy, he would vow to try again.

That's how he found himself on the long stretch of highway toward home, eager to lay eyes on your beautiful face once more and see for himself if Johnny was right. Would you take him back? he wondered.

When his tired body pushed off his bike and out toward the back yard where you hung the laundry, he could hardly believe the sight that greeted him.

There you stood in the golden afternoon sunlight, hair piled atop your head and sundress flowing in the breeze. He called your name and you turned to face him, eyes wide with surprise.

His breath hitched as he caught sight of your swollen stomach, suddenly realizing all he’d missed in his long absence from home. Rushing to greet you, he swept you off your feet, a wide grin spreading across his face as you opened your arms to accept him.

“Careful, Benny!” you cried as he spun you in a circle, overcome with joy.

He placed you on the ground gently as a chuckle erupted from deep within his chest, a look of complete awe sparkling in his eyes.

Then as the adrenaline subsided, he pulled you close enough to nuzzle your neck, inhaling the floral notes of your perfume and the crisp clean cotton from the wash. One hand resting over your bump, he suddenly grew quiet, voice hushed as he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me, angel?”

You stroked the blonde curls at the nape of his neck as you shook your head sadly, “Didn’t have the chance.”

Benny raised his head to meet your gaze, tears in his eyes as thought of you scared and alone, “I would’ve never left you like this.” He let out a shaky breath as he added, “There isn’t a day I didn’t think about you, you know.”

With those words, you melted into his arms, head resting against his shoulder as you admitted, “I missed you too, baby. I’m glad you’re home.”

Hearing the sweet tone of your voice relaxed any lingering tension, his arms softening their grip. His large hand reached to cup your cheek, Benny’s blue eyes glistening as he begged for your forgiveness. “I mean it, I’m so sorry, angel.”

“You’re here now,” you told him, inhaling a deep breath which he emulated with steady resolve.

“And I’ll never leave you again,” he murmured, leaning in to seal his promise with a kiss.

[arahdow]

WHO?! pt. 1

Pairing. Sonic x reader. Shadow x reader.

Content. fem reader. they mention another girls name as a prank. insecurities, angst but most of all hurt to comfort bcs in this house we appreciate aftercare after a sad moment. mhm humor.

Word count. 1.7 k

A/N. this is a two part post!! the reason i divided it was bcs i’m having a lot of trouble writing for silver and knuckles (i’m thinking on adding scourge too) 😫 so i’m trying to give myself some more time BUT in the meantime please have this and forgive me for not posting something of mine in a while 🤧 i assure you i’m working on different requests and ideas, so pls be patient and wait for the best!!

+ no beta read anddd a lil too ooc maybe

Sonic was always a prankster, but his prank backfired? That’s new…

Another tiring day at work, helping her coworkers get their job done even when she had her own work, doing extra hours, even walking home felt like a burden. She only wanted to lie down for at least the whole weekend. 

Sighing, she opened the door of her shared home with the blue hero, Sonic the hedgehog. He called himself a hero, something along the lines of ‘blue justice’ and she always laughed at his antics. She wanted nothing more than to hug him and sleep in his embrace.

As she walked to the kitchen, she heard Sonic humming and washing the pots he used to make dinner. He wasn’t used to cooking, but he liked to treat his girlfriend, especially when she went overtime.

“Hello.” She greeted, her voice weak as she noticed the delicious smell of the food he made.

Wiping his hands, he turned to his girlfriend, kissing her on the forehead. “Go and change, I'll be waiting darling.” 

The girl nodded with a sleepy smile and went to their room, before she could enter, Sonic yelled: “Be sure not to get asleep, Amy!” 

And it’s like her whole world crashed. Feeling like a cold splash of water running down her body, she soon felt her stomach drop. Amy? Why Amy? Was Amy there before? Why was he mentioning her? What?

A whole world of ‘what’s’ and ‘why’s’ ran through her head. Still, it wasn’t enough for her to stop feeling hungry, so, even if she wanted to stay by herself now, she knew if she didn’t eat she'd probably pass out in their shared room. 

Feeling a sting on her chest and throat, the girl changed herself and walked to the kitchen again. Her appetite forced her to meet her lover, but was he really tough? Was he still… Hers?

In silence, she sat beside Sonic starting to eat. The man looked at her confused but followed her movements without a word. She always thanked him for the food and let him have the first bite. It was a cute tradition between them and now she just went straight to eat. He couldn’t blame her, so he accepted it and kept on eating.

Sonic almost forgot the prank. Honestly, he was expecting some kind of teasing back, as his lover always had a callback, but now? She seemed too tired to add something of her own so he left it at that. 

He was ready to talk about something else when he noticed tears staining her face. “Dear? Wha-” He hurriedly went for a napkin and gave it to her. “What is it?”

The girl refused the napkin and turned away from him, her tears running free. Then he stared at her barely touched food. “Lov-”

“Why Amy?”

Sonic bit his tongue, looking at her. Amy?

“What’s with-”

“Do you love her? Again?!”

The man flinched a bit at her broken voice. His chest constricted with pain. 

“Listen, I-”

“I don’t…” The girl scoffed and braced herself. “I don’t want to know the details, just, have you fallen in love with Amy again?”

He reeled back, inhaling with insight. Oh. He. Fucked. Up.

“No, love-”

“Then why mention her? Why is her name in your lips when I’m the one you swore to spend your life with?” Sonic was already panicking inside watching the meltdown his girl was having. 

“It’s not like that!” He managed to say, stumbling on his words to prevent her from cutting him off again. “Love, it was a prank.”

The girl looked at him, her tears suddenly stopping, it almost looked humoristic if it wasn’t for the whole reason she was crying.

“I’m sorry you’d thought I could do that to you,” he explained, standing up and wiping her tears by himself with the napkin she refused to grab. “I was trying to be funny like we always are but… I guess it wasn’t the right timing.”

“No shit.” She replied, a sarcastic tone in her voice as she sighed, the weight on her shoulders disappearing. “Ah, thank chaos.”

“I mean, how could I do that to you when I already have an engagement ring somewhere in my room?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. Wait. “Wait what?”

“What?” He echoed, the atmosphere in the room changing completely as he winked at her. They were in for a long night, but first, he had to make it up to her, and he knew exactly how.

Sonic told him about it and said it was funny, so Shadow mentioned it while his partner was venting because he thought it was good timing. spoilers: it wasn’t.

“Can you fucking believe it, Shadow? My sister wants me to attend this stupid gathering, I told her it was fucking useless, I don’t give two shits about them because of what they did in the past, they never… They’ve never even fucking apologized! I’m just so mad right now, how can they be so stupid? Idiots! But you know what’s worse? The fact that…”

Shadow looked at his partner, listening intently at her venting. His gaze went in between her and her hands folding the laundry. His mind somewhere else as he recalled a conversation he had in the morning with his blue copy.

“This is a good way to cheer your girl up! Believe me! I’ve tried it before and it totally works.” Shadow looked at him, a skeptic look in his eyes. 

“Are you sure pranking her is the best way to cheer her up? But why if it’s something vulnera-”

“Naaah, I don’t think anything is that bad that you have to care too much about it.” Sonic explained while munching on his fifth chili dog of the day. “And besides, it’s just a simple harmless prank, she’ll laugh and it’d be alright.”

“...And I was like, ‘You remember what auntie said the last time I was there, why do you want me to go so fucking bad?’ ugh, it’s like a nightmare, I can’t wrap my head around it, really!”

He knew it was something serious because she was cursing a lot, or maybe she felt kind of free now that she was letting it all out? Was it a great time to do that prank? Maybe she’ll stop running in circles and just give herself some time…

“That sounds hard, Sora.”

Silence.

His face was stern, his position sitting on the bed seemed relaxed, but on the inside he was gauging her next words or actions in response to his words. Pressing his lips, he waited for her reaction, but it seemed like the world just stopped, did he stop time unconsciously? No, because the ceiling fan was still moving over their heads. 

“What did you just say?”

But he didn’t reply. More like he couldn’t. He already wanted to say it was a prank, but he stopped himself. Maybe if he waited a bit more… He could hear the sound of her cries.

Her cries?

His mind shifted violently, attentive to the sound of distress coming from the girl. Shadow took a step, horrified at the scene. She covered her face with her hands and dropped to her knees as she kept on crying.

That was his sign. Kneeling in front of her, Shadow took her by the wrist, relieved that she didn’t push him away instantly. 

“Shh sh, it was a prank, I'm sorry, I wasn’t being serious.” He said, trying to reason with her. That seemed to make the trick as she stopped for a bit, head still on her hands as she seemed to take a deep breath. The calmness didn’t last long as the girl shook her head and kept on crying, her face still fully covered.

He tried getting her hands away from her face, trying to get a glimpse of her eyes, wanting his point to come across, but she wasn’t budging.

Shadow just stared at her, his capacity of dealing with emotions almost close to none as he tried to find a way to solve this situation he himself caused. Lucky for him, her cries started to die down, not because she was less sad, but because she was tired from crying.

Being able to see her eyes eased him for a bit, but something still pulled at the strings of his heart: what would she say now?

The girl got up from the floor, walking out from her room straight to the kitchen. Shadow followed silently, afraid of her next move or word. She took a bottle of water from the refrigerator and drank. Two, three gulps and then she stopped, closing the bottle again. Shadow felt his heart beating hard against his chest with suspense, when she turned at him, her red eyes from crying staring deeply into his. 

And then she smiled.

“Damn,” she said, sighing. “I needed that.”

Shadow blinked a few times trying to register her words. “What?”

The girl chuckled and wiped the tears off from her face, staring at him. “Yeah, you think I believed you?” a sarcastic laugh fell from her lips. “Chaos, you seemed so nonchalant trying to convince me you really had another girl, that was so funny!” 

“Wait, you… You faked it?” He asked, still not being able to wrap his head around the entirety of the situation.

“Yeah! Woah, I really needed to cry, I feel lighter now, thanks for the push, Shadz.” She said, winking at the black hedgehog, walking past him to their room again. “And, I recommend you practice your facial expressions, you seemed scared even before I started crying, if you plan on pranking Sonic, you’ll need to try harder.”

The man stood there, shocked as he then turned and questioned. “What the- Why did you do that?”

“Do what?” She asked, stopping before entering the room, turning her head at him.

“That! I-“ He suddenly felt the weight of everything on his chest, making him almost suffocate from the whiplash of emotions he just experienced. “I almost had a heart attack.”

With a playful glint on her eye, she nodded before turning around and keeping on walking. “Suits you right.”