#this could be my fault but I refuse to take the blame :)))))

[svtiddiess]

Show 'Em How It's Done

Synopsis: Everyone assumes Mingyu is the submissive one when it comes to bedroom activities, so he proves them wrong.

Pairing: non-idol!Mingyu x afab!reader

Genre: smut, oneshot, established relationship, non-idol! au

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), creampie, semi-public sex, exhibitionism? (they're in a different room but can still be heard), dom!Mingyu, big dick!Mingyu, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This was requested! I hope you enjoy it!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu and @okiedokrie for beta reading!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Your eyes light up as you see the cabin you're staying for the weekend come into view. Mingyu, your boyfriend, had planned this trip with his friend group—a much-needed escape to the woods. Thanks to Seungcheol's generous use of his credit card, they managed to rent a spacious and stunning cabin tucked away in nature.

At first, you assumed Mingyu wanted a boys-only weekend, but to your surprise, he was adamant that you join them. Despite your repeated refusals, he insisted this was the perfect chance for you to finally meet and get to know his closest friends. He also claimed that he'd be extremely sad and lonely if he spent an entire two days without you, a reason that made you snort. Eventually, you gave in, and Mingyu’s excitement over your agreement was downright infectious.

After a gruelling four-hour drive, you sigh and stretch, glad to finally move your stiff limbs. Your gaze shifts to Mingyu, who’s focused on reverse parking with one hand resting on the back of your seat. Your cheeks heat up—it’s ridiculous how even after six months together, he still makes your heart flutter over something so simple. But really, who could blame you? It's not your fault your boyfriend is so hot.

"Thanks for driving, my Mingoo," you say with a smile, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek.

"You missed," he pouts, tapping his lips with his finger.

Laughing, you lean in for a quick peck, but before you can pull away, Mingyu places a hand on the back of your head and deepens the kiss. A surprised squeak escapes you, followed by soft giggles against his lips.

"Did you really think I’d let you off the hook with that weak excuse of a kiss?" He teases, his grin playful.

"You’re such a baby," you huff, rolling your eyes.

"Your baby," he counters smugly.

Still chuckling, you climb out of the car and stretch again as Mingyu unloads your luggage. Your jaw drops as you take in the sight of the large cabin before you. It’s impressive—definitely worth thanking Seungcheol for later.

"Looks like some of them are already here," Mingyu says, nodding toward the other cars parked nearby.

Suddenly, the realisation hits that you’ll be meeting most of his friends for the first time, and nerves start to bubble up. You’ve met Seungcheol and Wonwoo before, but this will be your first encounter with the entire group. Mingyu has been close with them since high school, and despite going their separate ways for college and work, their bond has remained rock-solid.

Sensing your unease, Mingyu sets down the bags and walks over to you. He takes your hand, his touch steady and comforting, and flashes you a reassuring smile.

"Don’t stress, babe. They’re going to love you. I promise," he says softly.

"But what if I embarrass myself? What if the first impression I give them is of me being a total idiot?" you groan, your palms growing clammy.

Mingyu chuckles, shaking his head. "Babe, trust me. You can’t out-dumbass them. They’re the biggest idiots I know," he says with a laugh. "So relax, okay? You’ve got nothing to worry about."

His words, paired with the kiss he plants on your forehead, manage to soothe your nerves a little. You sigh, nodding reluctantly. Mingyu squeezes your hand one last time before returning to the luggage. Taking a deep breath, you follow him inside, determined to make the best of the weekend.

Getting to know Mingyu’s friend group has been…an experience, to say the least. He wasn’t kidding when he said they were idiots but in the best possible way. They’re warm, welcoming, and a little chaotic—a combination that instantly makes you feel at ease. In fact, Soonyoung, Seungkwan, and Seokmin even "initiated" you into their inner circle. You’ve officially become one of the boys.

Right now, the entire group is sprawled across the living room, all varying levels of drunk, playing games. You’re sitting on the floor between Mingyu and Vernon, caught up in a lively game of Truth or Dare. Currently, Jeonghan has dared Joshua to get slapped in the face with kimchi, and to everyone’s delight, Joshua actually went through with it.

You’re doubled over, clutching your stomach in laughter, tears streaming down your face as Joshua wipes kimchi off his cheek with an exasperated expression. Jeonghan, of course, looks beyond pleased with himself.

It’s Soonyoung’s turn next, and judging by the mischievous glint in his eyes and his unsteady giggles, the alcohol is fully in charge now. He spins toward Mingyu with a maniacal grin.

"So, Gyu. Truth or dare?" he asks, practically bouncing in place.

Mingyu, who’s only slightly tipsy, shakes his head with a laugh. "Truth. I’m not risking anything."

"Boo!" Soonyoung pouts dramatically, earning exaggerated groans of disappointment from the rest of the group.

"Buzzkill!" Seokmin calls out from the couch.

"I’d rather not get kimchi-slapped by Jeonghan," Mingyu quips, casting a wary glance at Jeonghan.

"Hey, it’s an enlightening experience," Joshua deadpans, still dabbing his face with a tissue. Jeonghan simply laughs.

Soonyoung suddenly gasps, his eyes wide as if he’s just discovered the secret to the universe. "Oh my God, I got it!" he shouts, his grin downright unhinged. "Gyu, is it true that you’re the submissive one in the bedroom?!"

Your jaw drops. The room instantly explodes with laughter.

"W-What?!" Mingyu stammers, his brows furrowing in shock.

"You heard me!" Soonyoung giggles. "You’re the submissive one, aren’t you?"

Mingyu scoffs, shaking his head. "I’m not."

"Aw, come on, Gyu. Don’t be shy about it," Jeonghan teases, his grin only fueling the chaos. The laughter around you grows louder.

Your face burns as the conversation continues, the guys piling on the teasing with no mercy.

"Guys, seriously, can we not?" Mingyu whines, clearly flustered.

"Not until you admit it!" Seungcheol grins, leaning forward with mock intensity.

"It’s true, right, Y/N? Mingyu’s the submissive one in the bedroom, isn’t he?" Seungkwan chimes in, his laughter contagious.

Your cheeks heat up even more, and you hide your face in your hands, which only makes them laugh harder.

"No need to be shy, Y/N. We all know Gyu’s a massive simp for you—in and out of the bedroom," Joshua says with a wink.

You giggle softly, finally giving in. "Well…he is a huge simp for me."

The room erupts into chaos, everyone howling with laughter.

"She admitted it!" Soonyoung screams, practically rolling on the floor.

"So it’s true! He is submissive!" Jun adds, laughing so hard he has to wipe his eyes.

"I knew it!" Chan chimes in, grinning from ear to ear.

Mingyu groans, his face buried in his hands. "Babe~," he whines, looking at you with a pout.

You offer him an apologetic smile and lean in to kiss his cheek. "Sorry," you murmur, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mingyu grumbles and pouts as the rest of the boys continue to roar with laughter.

The game carries on, but you notice your beer is empty. Announcing to the group that you’re heading to the kitchen to grab more, you stand up and make your way into the next room, separated from the living area by a wall.

You open the fridge and grab a bottle, then reach for the kitchen drawer to find a bottle opener—only to discover it’s missing. With a quiet grumble, you crouch down to check the lower drawers, rummaging through them in hopes of finding what you need.

That’s when you feel it—a presence behind you, someone pressing up against your back. You gasp softly and straighten up quickly, attempting to turn around, but the person behind you cages you in, their arms trapping you against the counter.

"So… it’s true, huh? That I’m the submissive one?" Mingyu’s voice is low as he whispers in your ear.

Relief washes over you when you realise it’s just your boyfriend. Letting out a soft laugh, you shake your head. "Gyu, they were just messing with you," you say, amused at how hung up he still is on the topic.

"But you didn’t deny it," he murmurs, his voice tinged with mock offence. "You told them I’m a simp for you."

"That’s because you are a simp for me," you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder.

"I am," he admits, his tone unashamed as he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. His face nuzzles into the crook of your neck, his breath warm against your skin. "But I’m definitely not the submissive one."

Before you can respond, Mingyu rolls his hips against you, his movement deliberate. The sudden sensation draws a surprised gasp from your lips.

"Right, babe?" he teases, and you can feel the smug grin spreading across his face as he continues his little game.

You bite your bottom lip, your body warming under his touch as he grinds against you, the growing pressure unmistakable. "Gyu, not here," you mumble, your voice barely above a whisper. "They’ll hear us."

"That’s the whole point, sweetheart," he purrs, his voice dripping with mischief.

"Fuck, Gyu," a soft whimper escapes your lips at a particularly hard grind, causing Mingyu to chuckle.

"What if I just bend you over and fuck you right here? You would like that, wouldn't you, sweetheart?" He chuckles.

"Gyu, I-" A loud moan escapes your lips, and you quickly bite your lip to prevent any more sounds from escaping.

Grabbing your hips, Mingyu starts guiding your hips against his, pushing your ass against his hard cock. You feel your mind start to get fuzzy as you feel how hard he has become.

"Beg for it, sweetheart. Beg for me to ruin you with my cock," he purrs in your ear.

"Gyu, please… I need it," you whisper, your cheeks flushing with heat.

"Need what, babe?" he asks, his tone playful, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips. Your soft whine only makes his grin widen.

"Need you to ruin me with your cock," you mumble.

"Good girl," he whispers before placing a kiss on the shell of your ear.

Without warning, he bends you over the kitchen counter; a yelp escapes your lips as your cheeks make contact with the cold marble. A slow, teasing hand runs down your back, leaving goosebumps in its trail; you can't help but let out a small whine of frustration, eliciting a chuckle from Mingyu.

"So impatient," he smirks as he slaps your ass, drawing a gasp from you.

He unbuckles your pants, and you help him shimmy it off of you, shivering as the cold air nips at your bare legs. He hums as he rubs a finger on your panty-clad pussy, making you whimper.

"So wet already?" he teases with a low chuckle, his tone dripping with mockery.

"Gyu, please," you plead, your voice trembling with desperation, unable to endure his relentless teasing any longer.

"Admit it," he growls softly, his lips brushing against your ear. "Admit that you're the submissive one in bed."

"I'm the submissive one in bed," you cry out, your cheeks burning. "Now, please, just fuck me already!"

Laughing at your impatience, Mingyu slaps your pussy, making you mewl as a sharp wave of pain and pleasure wash over you.

"Such a good girl. My good girl," he growls before unbuckling his pants and slipping out his cock.

Moving your panties to the side, he teases you by rubbing his dick against your folds, coating the tip with your juices. Desperate to feel him, you arch your hips back, seeking more, but Mingyu firmly holds you in place, pressing you tightly against the counter with ease. You let out a frustrated whine, wiggling your hips in a futile attempt to gain some control, but Mingyu’s strength easily overpowers you. Helpless under his grip, you surrender, letting him take the lead like the good girl he knows you are.

He spits on his cock, using it as lube, and gives it a few pumps before slowly inserting it into your tight hole. Your eyes roll back, and your mouth goes agape as you finally feel his cock inside you; his cock stretching you out deliciously. Mingyu's big, the biggest you've ever had, so every time he fucks you, it feels like the first.

Grunts escape his lips as he tries to restrain himself from slamming into you; you feel so good wrapped around him. A choked whimper escapes your lips when you feel his tip kiss your cervix. He pulls out halfway before slamming back into you, stealing the breath from your lungs.

Without hesitation, Mingyu picks up the pace; each thrust rough and relentless. Broken moans and soft whimpers spill from your lips, your mind too clouded with pleasure to focus on anything but the way he fills you so perfectly.

"That's right, sweetheart," he purrs against your ear, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. "Be loud. Let everyone know how good I’m making you feel."

"G-Gyu," you manage to moan, your voice trembling. "S-so good… feels so good."

"Only I can make you feel this good, isn’t that right, sweetheart?" he growls, his voice rough with possession. One hand moves to grip your neck, holding you firmly in place, while the other steadies your hips.

"Yes! You—only you!" you cry out, your voice shaky as the overwhelming pleasure pushes you closer to the edge.

"Gyu, I'm so close! Please—please, please!" you beg, your words tumbling out in desperate sobs as you plead for release.

The hand holding your hips shifts to circle your clit with precision, and you scream out his name. The knot in your stomach finally unravels, and your vision blurs as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Pleasure ripples through your body, leaving you breathless as you chant his name like a prayer. Mingyu doesn't let up, his movements steady as he thrusts into you, guiding you through the intensity of your release. After a few more thrusts, he cums inside you, filling you up; your fluids mixing together.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, the room filled with nothing but the sound of your heavy breathing. Slowly, he slides out, a soft whimper escaping your lips at the sensation. Pressing a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he adjusts your panties back into place. You cringe slightly, feeling the fabric cling uncomfortably to your skin.

"Keep my cum in you; I'll make sure to fuck it back into you later," he purrs, making you blush.

He helps you stand and gently guides you back into your pants before slipping into his own clothes. Running his fingers through your messy hair, he smooths it down before wiping away any drool and sweat from your face. Then, he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips. You smile into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him closer. When he pulls back, he nuzzles your nose with his, drawing a soft giggle from you.

"Ready to head back?" he murmurs, his voice low and affectionate.

You nod, grabbing your now lukewarm beer before following him back into the living room.

"Did we miss anything?" Mingyu asks casually as he takes a seat, acting as if he didn't just fuck your brains out a few minutes before.

"N-Nothing, you missed nothing," Soonyoung stammers, awkwardly clearing his throat as he tries to hide his very obvious boner.

Your gaze sweeps across the room, and you realise the rest of them are just as flustered, each one failing miserably to hide their boners. You burst into laughter at their awkward state, and Mingyu joins in, clearly enjoying the moment.

With a smug grin, Mingyu looks around at his friends before cupping your face and pulling you in for a deep, possessive kiss. The room fills with groans and exaggerated complaints.

"Get a room!" someone yells, earning more laughter from the both of you.

You giggle into the kiss, relishing the playful teasing, while Mingyu smirks against your lips, clearly pleased to have proven their earlier jabs entirely wrong.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @tomodachiii @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo

[leclarifies]

letters (MV33)

꒰ max verstappen x childhoodbestfriend! reader ꒱

synopsis┊it was confusing, even though you were continents apart, you never understood why max never responded to your letters, until you attend the belgium gp to finally get the answers you were looking for. inspired by the prompt, "why did you never reply to my letters?" "you wrote me letters?"

genre┊ fluffy, the fluffiest fluff i've ever fluffed.

word count┊ 4.4k

aria yaps┊ i have worked on this non-stop for two days, and i loved the way it turned out, maybe one of my favorite works. enjoy reading this as much as i enjoy writing this!!

SECOND PART

she was always around max, either from the sidelines or the first person max ran to when he won a race, it was always her. not even his father, even though he held his father to the highest regard, but it was always her.

the little wrinkles on the edge of her eyes when she smiled at him, the way her lips would curl up, or the way she would giggle every. single. time. that he would come and hug her after every race finish. he remembers it all. and the way he would snuggle his face in the crook of her neck and asked her softly after he would win a race, 'did you see me win, schatje?'

she would always smile back with a laugh, 'of course i did maxie.'

it was always about max, her life revolved around him, whether he liked it or not. she adored him and maybe he adored her a little bit more. they were childhood friends, they were inseparable since they were little babies, their mothers being friends made it even harder for the both of them to not be attached at the hip.

she loved being in his presence and he loved her.

the divorce between jos and sophie was hard on max, he blamed himself and his career but she was always there to tell him that it's not his fault. that their decision was their own and she never forgot to tell max that it wasn't his fault, no matter how much they told him that it was.

she saw the way jos had pushed max to his limits, get physical with his own son and his way of escaping that life was run to her arms, she was there tending to every bruise, every wound whether physical or emotional. she was his rock and it was final. nothing anyone could ever say or do would change his name.

"schatje," max had gently woken her up from her slumber, and she stirred awake from his soft voice, she noticed where she was and finally remembered what happened.

max had finished lower than expected and jos had thrown hurtful things about max, she was there on his mother's couch, comforting him and had fallen asleep that way, with max on her lap, "are you sleepy?"

she shook her head, not wanting to admit that yes, indeed she was sleepy, but if max needed comfort then that wasn't a big deal to her, "what's wrong maxie?"

"nothing, you can sleep on my bed if you're tired. i can sleep here," max had brushed a stray strand of her hair behind her ear but she refused, she hated taking his bed because she knew how uncomfortable the couch was, she wanted him to sleep well.

but he wouldn't allow her to take the couch, so they both slept on sophie's couch almost cuddled with eachother because they were both stubborn.

max was necessarily content with how he was living his life right now, but she made it better and that's all he could ask for. was it her smile? maybe her presence? max didn't care. the first memory he could remember from his early childhood was her, and it was etched into his memory like stone.

she was content with being max's rock, she was there to keep him grounded and she too only had memories of him from her early childhood. she wouldn't replace him for the world, he was too precious for anything in this earthly world.

but there was one day, it felt like a bomb dropped on her. her father had told her that he would have to move to korea to continue work, and she didn't know how to break the news to max until a few days before she had to leave.

she knew it was wrong to keep something this big away from max, but she was so stricken with anxiety that she never got the chance to until max came over to her house and saw all the packed boxes with their belongings.

"why didn't you tell me sooner?" max was angry, she could tell, by the way he was pacing around her room, looking at the packed boxes around. max thought he meant more to her than just a measly friend, he felt frustrated— betrayed almost. why wouldn't she tell him? why would she keep something as big as this away from him?

"why didn't you say something before? why now? why before you could see me race this weekend?" max was raising his voice now, and she didn't know what to do. her eyes turned glassy and those doe eyes max loved so much just looked so sad.

she stayed quiet, a guilty look on her face. she knew max would break from the news, and she knew that it would affect his performance, but she didn't know how to stay, how to convince her father that she didn't want to go, so yet again, she stayed silent in important moments of her life.

"schatje, can you say something? say anything?!" max yelled and she flinches, she didn't know what to say or what to do, she wanted to say something, say anything. but nothing would come to her lips. it was so hard for her when he was angry like this, it reminded her of his father and his father was deathly scary when angry.

a sigh escapes max's lips when he sees her flinch, coming close to her to wrap her in a hug. tears escaped from her eyes as she held onto max tight, "i didn't know how to tell you," she whispers into max's ear but max didn't say anything to that, just held her even tighter and he did not want to let go.

"it's okay schatje, i'm not mad at you. i could never get mad at you, i'm sorry for raising my voice. i just don't want you to go," tears started to escape max's eyes too, he didn't want to see her go. he wanted her to stay, and she did too. but the universe was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it.

the ride to the airport was tough, being only fifteen and sixteen respectively. max held her hand the entire time, not wanting to let go, he didn't want her to leave, she was his biggest support system and he couldn't imagine her gone like that.

she was the most scared of the two of them, what if her father never returned to belgium? what if she was stuck there in korea forever? what if she never got to see his pretty blue eyes anymore?

max was the one to ground her, no longer lost in her thoughts, "can you promise me we'll keep in touch? or maybe visit from time to time?" max was holding onto her hands tightly, she felt like they would bruise, she could only smile and nod.

her mother had called her over, it was time to go. she looked at max for what it felt like the last time and left her life in belgium.

dear schatje,

hi, this is the first week that you're gone and it's bene been so hard without you here with me. i forgot that you weren't here anymore and i was expecting to see your face, but when i didn't, i may or may not have almost cried.

i miss you so much. tell me how it is in korea, is it cold? do they have bears there? what about the food? is it good? can you eat it? i heard there's a lot of spiy spicy food there? honestly i don't care about what they have there, i just care about you.

when can you visit again? can you tell me if you're ever coming back? i'm so worried about you there, i miss you... so much schatje.

written with a lot of love, your maxie.

max always handed off his letters to his father, telling his father to hand it off to his mother because apparently they kept in contact and wanted to send it off to the post office on behalf of him.

he just wondered how she was doing there.

it's been months and countless of letters max had sent, and none of them replied. he was starting to lose hope, he didn't want to think that his best friend would forget about him so easily like that, but he held out hope. he knew that she wouldn't magically forget about him now that she was there.

jealousy bubbled within him when he realized that she would be meeting new people, what if she met someone like him? who enjoyed karting and wanted to steal her attention?

no, he couldn't be thinking like that. he loved her and he knew she loved him as much as he did, so he told himself to just be patient, maybe letters to korea took months to reach?

the naviety was almost laughable but he was fine with it. he just wanted to hear back from his pretty girl.

"i do not understand why you keep writing letters to that stupid girl, she doesn't reply to you and all it does is distract you," jos had reprimanded his son, but max was stubborn. he didn't care what his father had to say, he loved all of her, even when she was thousands of kilometers away. he wanted to talk, even when she never replied.

max was in the process of writing another letter, but he never listened to his father, not about her. not about how much of a distraction she's been to his career, he didn't care. he used it as motivation to get better on the track, so the next time she saw him, he would be a world champion, that's what he silently promised to her.

it had been two years, and he hadn't heard a peep back. slowly, he was starting to lose hope but he couldn't lose hope, every single time he would send off the letters, he told himself that maybe it got lost in the mail.

max kept writing though.

max's debut in f1 was explosive to say the least, his interviews would absolutely go viral by the things he was saying in them. he didn't understand why, he just said what was on his mind.

what was truly on his mind was her.

was he not good enough for her? was him being in f1 not enough to impress her? why wouldn't she write back?

oh god how he missed her.

he still wrote to her weekly, it was religious at this point. he never forgot and he always told his father to send them off to his mother and the week after that was always disappointment because he wouldn't hear anything back.

little did he know, she never received those letters.

max had slowly stopped writing letters as he got into f1, he didn't see a point in it anymore. she never replied. she didn't care. letters didn't take years to reach korea, and he finally lost hope.

winning his first championship felt empty, the pretty girl who used to be waiting for him wasn't there for him anymore. of course, he was happy to win such an impressive feat, who wouldn't? but it just... lacked her.

max indeed lost hope that she would ever write back, but never lost hope that she was out there, somewhere, watching him race every single week and beat the shit out of his rivals. she loved watching him race and that's what he intended to do until the day he died, he wanted to impress her, maybe that was his ulterior motive to becoming a formula one driver.

all just to impress his best friend who had lost contact with him for a decade now.

"you need to stop figdeting so much," her mother had scolded her, she could only laugh nervously and stop fidgeting around. she wondered why max never wrote back to her, she had written him letters. did he hate her for moving out to korea and not coming to visit belgium?

she shook the thoughts out of her head, she was here now. for his home race, and for the rest of her life. her father had now decided to move back to belgium, because and i quote, 'i don't want my daughter to lose touch with her culture'.

she was 26 now, and she had guessed that he turned 27 not too long ago. it's been so long since she talked to him and she hoped that the spark that she had been yearning for had not been lost to the passages of time.

getting the paddock passes was not easy, it was a war and a half but she managed to snag some for herself and a friend that wanted to visit belgium and would arrive later on in the week.

"how did you even manage to get paddock passes for us?" heejin, her friend that wanted to visit had asked, she could only laugh and explain how she got them, it was a war and a half. heejin laughed along with her as they both arrived and scanned their passes at the entrance.

"i'm gonna meet my best friend here— well it's complicated. i don't think he considers me a best friend anymore, but i still do," she had softly told heejin who was a big formula one fan even before meeting her, heejin raised her eyebrow when she said that.

the both of them were walking down the paddock, passing all of the different team's hospitalities. heejin raised her eyebrow at her friend, who shrugged.

"who's your best friend?" heejin had asked as they pass by the red bull hospitality, she stopped which signalled heejin to stop as well, she looked at the redbull in awe. she hadn't been to a formula one race yet, the closest she'd been was to karting but that didn't bring on the feelings she felt when standing in front of this red bull building.

"well, he's driving the number one car."

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

"YOUR BEST FRIEND IS MAX VERSTAPPEN?!"

max had heard a girl yell, he slowly turned his head. he was confused, he didn't have a best friend— well not anymore. she had moved to korea, all memories of her stuck in his head being replayed all over and over again.

that's all he had left of her.

the other girl shushed the girl who yelled, and that's when it dawned on max. the other girl looked awfully familiar, he couldn't quite place why she looked so familiar but she looked like her, like his best friend.

"shh! you can't just yell that out in public," she clamped a hand on her friend's mouth, "they're gonna think i'm insane!" then the both of them giggled, it did sound ridiculous but now he was curious.

was she back? was that her? who was she with? is that her new best friend? is that her?

as they both walked away, max wanted to run up to them, to ask that one particular girl what her name was. what she was doing here and who she was with but all of that died when he got approached by his race engineer.

then he forgot all about that familiar girl that he saw in front of the red bull hospitality.

max would only get another glimpse of her when it was race day, they were walking through the paddock in a similar fashion, but max promised to himself that he would approach them, that he would ask but there was doubt in his heart.

what if she forgot about him?

she couldn't, right?

and so approach them he did, tapping the girl that he felt was so familiar to on the shoulder, she had turned around and they had locked eyes.

it was as if she never left.

the sparks, they all came rushing back and then his heart started beating out of his chest, he wanted to ask so many questions, why she was here, who she was with, when she came back— why she came back, why she never wrote him back.

but the only thing that left his lips were a simple, "hi."

heejin was freaking out, she could tell. she knew that heejin was a big red bull fan too, always talking about how the team was dominating and they had the better car. she had heard all about it. but the little dutchboy she left all those years ago was standing in front of her and not-so little anymore and all those thoughts about her girlfriend was forgotten.

he looked the same, but grown and decked out in red bull merch. she wanted to laugh at how innocent he looked when he tapped her on the shoulder to get her to turn around, he looked stupid, stupidly cute.

all of those feelings from when she was back in belgium came back, she almost forgot what it felt like to be around max— her max. he looked like he was going to cry when he got a good look at her, that he finally realized that yes, it's her. the one that left him in belgium all those years ago.

and maybe she could cry too.

"maxie?" a familiar nickname slipped from her lips and she didn't get a response back, but a bear hug in return.

god, her scent. it was everything to him. he fucking missed it— miss her.

"i thought... i thought you forgot about me," max buried his face into the crook of her neck, she too wrapped her arms around max and buried her face into his chest. his voice was so vulnerable, all she wanted to do was curl around him and tell him that she would never.

she shook her head as she sank into the hug, "i could never forget my maxie," she mumbled into his chest, he held onto her tighter. he never wanted to let go, not now, not ever. she was where she was finally supposed to be, right in his arms.

once they got time alone after his race, max had stolen her away from her friend and dragged her into his driver's room, locking the door and pushing her against the wall, slamming his lips onto hers. he had been dreaming about this for so long, his lips on hers.

he didn't want to so sexual with her, no not yet. being in the small driver's room where they couldn't be free out of the public eye wasn't a good place. he just wanted to touch her, hold her, love her, make sure that she knew how much he had missed this.

missed them being together.

her hands instinctively went up to hold onto his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he kissed her softly. the feelings going through him were a mix of nostalgia, longing and love. he loved her for so long and it was so like her to show up when it mattered the most.

he won it for her today, to show her, that the little max she knew still had it in him to win and to impress her even with a world championship under his belt.

she felt the softness and the gentleness that max was touching her with, she knew how much he loved her. how much he care, how much he longed for her touch and she did too, only so much more.

she had so many questions in her, on why he never replied to the letters she sent or why he never sent any himself, not knowing what happened with her letters and why they never arrived properly.

but she didn't care at the moment, all she cared about was that she was safely in his arms, never to be let go ever again.

safe to say, her lips were to the point of bruising that night. max had forbade her to go back home, or to be away from his sight. he had kissed her silly, not wanting to let her go and there she was, settled nicely in his arms.

it's not like she wanted to go anywhere anyway.

the movie in the background was long forgotten, max's lips felt like they were molded for hers. he had waited for her for so long, waited to feel her skin after so long and this just felt right, it felt right when he was with her.

"maxie— mmhh— my love, stop," she had to talk in between kisses, max didn't want to let her go, his fingers were basically imprinted onto her waist. she was straddling max as he sat upright and kissed her, so softly. like she would break if he was any harder, even though he absolutely did want to kiss her harder.

max released her from the kiss with a pout, his pretty lips were red and swollen from all the kissing they did. everything in the world just seemed to fade into the background when they were together, like everyone else in this world was so insignificant for their time and they were the only people worthy of each other's time.

"but why? i wanna kiss you, i miss you. i have waited for you for ten years, the least you can do is let me kiss you until you're sick of me," max mumbled against her lips and all she could do was giggle.

god, her laugh, he loved it.

she shook her head and left a final peck on his lips, "because i want to talk maxie, we can't just kiss whatever questions we have for eachother away," she told him but he seemed to think otherwise, she had moved back to put a bit of distance in between them, to make sure max didn't go in to kiss her again.

"oh yes we can, i don't care about the questions, schatje. i just wanna be with you, just like old days, but now it's so different because in those ten years without you, i finally realized what i felt and how i felt for you and i can't wait any damn longer to finally kiss those pretty lips of yours, so please. just let me do this for another three hours and we can talk," max begged as he pulled her closer.

she couldn't imagine kissing for another three hours as they spent the last hour doing it, but with him? she would do it for another life-time if she could.

the both of them later had the serious talk when they were done kissing each other, now wanting answers from eachother. their legs were tangled and intertwined with each other's, not wanting to let go from their skin to skin contact.

"first off, why did you never reply to my letters? i wrote you so many. so many that i lost count, i would always write to you but you never replied, why?" max's voice came out strained, all of the painful feelings from the last ten years of his life were coming out, her doe eyes looked up from where she was, laying against his chest.

"you wrote me letters? i wrote you letters, you never replied. i thought you got too busy with your karting career to reply—"

"i could never get too busy to reply to you, but i never got any of your letters, schatje," max murmured against her forehead, kissing it gently after he spoke. she hummed a response before it dawned on her, she had always sent the letters to his father's address and she knew that his father wasn't fond of her, even offering her a huge lump sum of cash just for her to stay away from his son but she never accepted it, always choosing to be beside max, no matter what happened.

she looked up and sighed, she knew what happened now, she connected the pieces, "did you send your letters off to your dad?" she asked, and max nodded before it dawned on him too.

"that fucker hid the letters from you and never sent mine..."

she could only nod sadly, but it didn't matter now. all that mattered was that they were reconnected now.

scattered around them were the countless of letters max had written to her and all of the letters from her that he never received, the years of pining, longing— all of them tucked neatly away into these little envelopes that held all of those unsaid feelings.

a soft sigh escapes her lips, she looked at all of them, there were hundreds maybe. all of them posted to where she stayed in korea but never sent, always kept in a big box where all of his letters were and hers were stuffed in there in a similar fashion.

her heart clenched when she saw how many there were, there were far more many than whatever she sent, even though she did send quite a big sum.

when max had found out, he stormed into jos' house and demanded to ask why he never sent out the letters that he wrote and a big fight broke out, she had to hold of max from physically harming his own father. then they left after given the big box filled with letters.

"there's so many..." she watched in awe as all of them were sorted by date, from the latest to the earliest, max looked up at her with those big blue icy eyes of his, he looked really sad. stuck in his feelings almost, not understand why his father would do whatever he did in the past.

max held her hand gently, pulling her into his embrace, "i have always loved you, even when i was a little kid. i just didn't understand what those feelings were, i just acted on how i felt and being away from you... i just couldn't. so i sent you my love in the form of these letters."

she left a lingering kiss on his cheek, she felt sorry for having to leave all those years ago. she should've fought, should've stood her ground on how much she wanted to stay but she was just a 16 year old kid who didn't know how to, "i know. i'm sorry i had to leave all those years ago."

"don't apologize, schatje. i have never blamed you for leaving me. i have always held love for you in my heart, even if you didn't know it."

"i always knew max, and i still do."

very willing to do a part 2 to this btw, will only do it when requested tho. not proofread, excuse grammar mistakes.

[chuluoyi]

HAPPY MARRIAGE

- nanami kento x reader

“you don't deserve to be unhappy. and i don’t want to be unhappy, either.” you have always wondered where did you and kento go wrong. in the wake of your divorce, as you both returned to single lives, you and kento would come to realize what constitutes a happy marriage is... and it takes more than just love

genre/warnings: post-divorce angst, crack, misunderstandings, arguments, hurt/comfort, bestfriend!gojo is going to help your love life, and fluff in the end!

note: this fic... goes through a major change overnight after i was struck with a wholly different plot *sobs* and then i went through a major writing block for at least a week before i know what words i'm going to write :') anyways, this isn't really proofread so please forgive any typos to the anon who requested this and others, i do hope you'll enjoy it! tagging @tiredkitten as per request <3

listen to: today more than yesterday - kim jong kook

a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT

general masterlist

No divorce ever comes easy.

When couples enter into marriage, they do so with the dream of a lifelong bond filled with love and compassion. You too did once. And even until now, you still want that for yourself.

When you married Nanami Kento three years ago, you thought it was for eternity. He was your dream man, the only man you could see yourself with. He embodied everything that was just and righteous, and he was also kind man, who would always put you first, shielding you from any sort of harm.

Even if the source of that ‘harm’ turned out to be himself.

“You don't deserve to be unhappy. and I don’t want to be unhappy, either.”

Strangely, you didn't resent Kento that much, in the end. At that time, both of you had come to terms with it and you couldn't blame anyone. But now, six months later, as you sat in this shabby bar, downing shots of gin with your thoughts swirling in an alcohol-induced haze, your emotions were all over the place, and moreover, the presence of a certain clown before you was just particularly irksome, and you knew that he was someone you could blame—

“Gojo, you prick!”

Gojo raised one righteous eyebrow. "Who, me? Sorry, but I'm not your ex-husband?"

Gojo Satoru was the witness to several milestone in your life. Insufferable as he was, somehow you clicked with him ever since your early days as a jujutsu sorcerer. You remembered sending him your handpicked wedding invitation, having him celebrating your promotions, and then coming to him with tears running down your face in the middle of the night, telling him, “We are getting a divorce.”

"You!" you snapped, slamming down your glass of gin, whipping your head around to face the blindfolded idiot that was your longtime friend. Your index finger accusingly aimed at him. "This is all your fault!"

"Wha—"

"Because of you!"

"Okay, now it's clear that you're just too far gone—"

You hiccupped, your tone laced with fiery emotion. "If it weren't for you—if you hadn't been so adamant about setting us up back then—!"

Gojo grimaced. Ah, so this was the so-called drunken musings. While it was amusing to see his friend of 7 years in this state, even he couldn't deny how a tad bit pitiful you were.

"...then maybe," you started to deflate, eyes watering and lips trembling, sniffling. "I-I won't have to go through this..."

Correction, you were so pitiful you had no idea. But still, as a longtime associate, he couldn't bring himself to abandon you there, wallowing in your sorrows all alone.

He sighed and patted your back. "There, there... what about I introduce you to other guys, hmm? See if it'll lessen the pain away?"

You shot him a look so hateful despite your bleary vision. "No! Last time you did, it ended in a divorce for me! I refuse to let you turn me into a two-time divorcee!"

"I'm pretty sure your marriage is far from my business, I'm just your kind-hearted, handsome broker—"

"Bah! You— tasteless prick!"

You burped loudly afterwards and Gojo winced, and then you suddenly (and theatrically, he might add) slumped face-down onto the table with a thud, passed out in all your drunken glory.

And Gojo could only stare at you in somewhat disbelief.

. . .

He thought then, that you were definitely going to owe him one after this.

More often than not, throughout the past six months, Nanami also found himself thinking about you too.

Despite his calm exterior, separation with you didn't come easy for him. There was a reason he married you in the first place—he had loved you, and he too wanted it to last. You used to be the reason he went home on time each and everyday, the reason he eagerly anticipated spending his weekends with.

Everything had fallen apart before either of you realized it. Some disagreements suddenly spiraled into lonely nights, no updates during longer missions, your tears, and then ended with both of you filing the papers in the city hall to end it all.

Six months ago, he thought he was final with his decision. He thought it was the best as he was faced with the sight of your tear-streaked face.

“Kento, I’m not asking m-much, am I?” you asked between sobs, wiping your tears harshly. “Aren’t w-we family? Shouldn’t we be doing a lot of things—together?”

Recalling that moment now, it tugged at his heartstrings anew. Yet, despite everything...

“I’m telling you, I know my limits—”

“Is that all you have to say? Don’t you know how sick with worry I am?” you ended up shouting at him, voice quivering. “Put yourself in my shoes and think: how can I possibly sleep at night, constantly fearing that my husband might—” your voice broke, fresh tears flowing freely. “—might not come back?!”

He was the one who backed away first, who made you lose all hope, and ultimately, placed the sentence upon you.

“If you don't have it in you to... then, perhaps it's for the best that we... just get a divorce.”

"Nanami-san, you okay?"

He looked up from the sizzling barbeque grill pan to his junior, Ino Takuma, who looked concerned as he flipped the meat. "You have been staring into space for a while..."

"I'm fine, Ino-kun." He looked down and grabbed the tongs, flipping his side of beef.

Ino let out a sympathetic sigh. "Honestly, lately, you seem down."

Words he was holding back were "ever since your divorce", but Ino was pretty sure his senior understood the implicaton.

Nanami hummed. "Sometimes life just doesn't go as swimmingly... I'm fine."

Ino never really knew you that well and was curious. In fact, he was so very curious. When it comes to Nanami Kento, everything he does and has done is always with justified and sound reason, but he might be biased because the 7:3 sorcerer was his role model.

It might verge on invading his privacy, but—

"They said... Gojo-san was your matchmaker back then?" he went through with the question anyway, testing the waters. "I don't mean to pry, but I just thought it's cute."

To Ino's surprise, Nanami's lips curled into a small smile. "It's fine, Ino-kun. I think it has become common knowledge by now. Yeah... he was."

"For you to have fallen for someone who was Gojo's acquaintance... it speaks volumes about how charming Y/N is."

"Mmm," he nodded slightly as he indulged in the grilled meat. "She is."

"Nanami-san." Okay, Ino was starting to think that he wouldn't be getting his point across if he went the roundabout way. He would shoot it straight then. "I don't mean to patronize you... but if you're really that miserable, then I think you should go back to her and talk things out, no?"

Nanami put down his chopsticks and let out a soft sigh, making Ino to immediately regret his blatant suggestion.

"Before arriving at such a difficult decision, of course we did try to discuss some things," he explained, his gaze meeting his calmly. "I don't take matters like divorce lightly, Ino-kun."

"But still... now—"

To drove the point home, Nanami chose to vocalize the conclusion that still left a bitter taste in his mouth to this day:

"She is unhappy with the way things are, and I have to come to terms with the fact that I can't provide what she needs."

Ino's gaze fell in dejection. "Nanami-san..."

Nanami chuckled fondly. “I appreciate your concern, Ino-kun. Thank you.”

In front of his junior, he could maintain composure and narrated the collapse of his own marriage as if he were a mere spectator. But in his heart of hearts, Nanami Kento wasn’t at all the stoic man he made everyone believed he was—the fact that he had failed to give you the life of happiness he promised on the day he proposed to you still stung him to this day.

It hurt him, but echoing your words, he couldn't subject you to a marriage that felt like a dull cohabitation with little understanding.

“We never really talk anymore, do we...? We never really work on our problems too. Kento, lately, I feel like... things have changed.”

Suppose what he had to do was letting you go now.

It was easier said than done, because when Nanami saw you the next day at the school—this being the first time in several weeks—he almost couldn’t keep his cool.

"Ichiji, don't be too stiff!" you slapped the poor guy in the back with a giggle. "It's just me, it's been a while!"

You didn't look much different than the last he saw you—still the chirpy self he unwittingly fell in love with, staying on top of the latest fashion trends and all. Yet, there was definitely something different about you, something he just couldn't quite identify...

And then those cheerfulness deflated when your gaze met his, eyes widening as you tried to get your bearings. "Oh—h-hi, Kento."

That's too forced. It was so unnatural that made him almost wince.

"Hello." But the tremble in his voice, too, betrayed him. "Have you been well?"

You shifted your gaze away from him, and right before you answered, you let out a cough, and that was when he spotted it: you looked kind of pale.

"I'm fine."

"Oh, that's good then."

Silence. This was the absolute worst.

Nanami exhaled. It was you he was talking to, his ex-wife. He knew you inside out—or at least, he used to. He knew you didn't like this dryness as much as he did. He had to say something.

He braved himself. "Are you here for a mission?"

You looked at him in slight surprise. "Oh... yeah."

Darn it. Another dry reply.

"There... is a cursed totem in North Tokyo," you elaborated, not really looking at him. "Gojo's out from tomorrow until next week. I'm substituting for him to assist the first years."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" Nanami found himself asking before he could stop. "I mean no disrespect, but you look a bit pale."

"I am," you snapped, leaving him surprised. It was as though he had unintentionally struck a nerve, quickly turning your mood sour. "I'm fully capable of handling this, Kento."

"Please, I don't mean to upset you. I'm just..."

Worried about you. Somehow his throat closed in, it didn't really feel right to say that now.

"—I know how rash you can be." He regretted his words as soon as they were out.

It was clearly a bad choice of words as you took offense, your expression quickly turned into one of disdain.

"How rich... that it's coming from you," you scowled.

Memories of your failed marriage flooded your mind's eye. The long nights your ex-husband didn't bother to leave you a message. How he would return home with wounds and blood staining his clothes. And now... he had the nerve to insinuate that you were the reckless one?

"I can take care of myse—"

"That's a whole load of bullshit!"

Good grief. Why must Gojo pick this exact scene to show up?

The blindfold took big strides and halted between the two of you, pointing one finger in your face.

“Last night, she got wasted. Like totally wasted! She could barely walk straight afterwards and then she had the audacity to blame me! Me! For all her mess! Goodness, I’m just a very chivalrous friend and yet—”

"Shut up!" you were horrified, face flushed with embarrassment. "Gojo, you complete jerk!"

Nanami wouldn't admit it, but there was always something between you and Gojo Satoru that made him a bit uncomfortable, even way back when the two of you were still married. Perhaps the closeness, the candidness you shared. He knew you wouldn't harbor anything for someone as elusive as Gojo Satoru, but still, it remained an uncomfortable sight for him.

Like there was nothing pleasant about knowing Gojo Satoru was the one taking care of you in your drunken stupor. You shouldn't have in the first place. If it were him, he wouldn't let you hurt yourself. If he were still the one by your side—

Despite himself, thoughts like that swirled in his mind far often than he would've liked.

Suddenly, the air felt stifling. Nanami didn't like this at all, and even as you two were still harmlessly bickering, he chose to leave.

"Oiii, Nanami!"

He had barely left the room when the person he disliked the most emerged from the door, following closely behind him. Gojo evidently knew what his thoughts were. As irritating as he was, the bloke was smart, he wasn't the strongest for nothing.

"Na-na-mi! You can't just leave like that! We're going to have lunch together—"

"Gojo-san," Nanami stopped in his tracks and let out an exasperated sigh, throwing the white-haired idiot a glare so hard it would curse him if only glares could. "Please stop bothering me."

“How cold-hearted,” the blindfold replied in a mocking scoff. “No matter how, she was once your wife. How could you not care one bit?”

“We have gone on our separate ways, and if she is good with the way things are, then so am I.”

What a lie. He still couldn't help but to care. If you ever needed his help in whatever way even now, he would still move heavens for you.

“And that’s where you’re wrong, Nanami,” Gojo suddenly interjected in a less playful manner. “She is really missing you, you know.”

But you had your best friend by your side, didn't you? Someone perfect, without equal. Surely, you wouldn't need him anymore.

Gojo raised an eyebrow. "How are you so sure that she's good with the way things are?"

"What exactly is she not good with?"

"Everything? You never ask her."

This was getting irritating, and before Nanami really lost control over himself, he finally drew a line.

"Gojo-san, I'm tired of people assuming things about our current relationship," he said, leveling a piercing look at him. "We are both adults. We reached the decision to separate because we both know why. If this is your way of showing concern, then thank you—but I'd prefer if you didn't interfere any further. We're handling this just fine, and by all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore."

With that, he left. Even when he wanted to stay longer with you, even when, in his wildest dreams, he wanted to rebuild everything with you again—

He knew you were there, hearing all of this.

Gojo clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed. "Grr... You're so stubborn..."

. . .

There was a reason why you went to the school. Yaga's sudden request and of course, the chance to see Nanami again.

But when your conversation ended in a bitter note and he walked away, a part of you plunged into instant panic, compelling you to eavesdrop on his conversation with Gojo.

But as expected from you cool ex-husband, he was all rationale and logic.

By all means, I think people should stop associating us anymore.

Nanami would think so, wouldn't he? And he wouldn't be bothered either.

You shouldn't have expected more. This was no television drama in which the couple would get back together that easily. You were living in the harsh reality of jujutsu world, which basically, was the cause of your divorce in the first place.

At one point, you found it all to be exhausting, but upon reflection, it was more painful to acknowledge that he never truly fought to keep you by his side.

Tears welled up in your eyes unbidden, and you walked away quickly, brushing them away.

This is it. There is no use hoping anymore.

If you weren't on missions, then you'd likely be drinking. This had been the undeniable truth over the past few weeks.

Gojo found both you and Nanami to be irritating. The way both of you would evade each other was just plain stupid by this point, since it was clear to anyone with eyes that you were still not over each other.

"Nanami! Why don't you join us for dinner tonight!"

And since you were such an irritable drunk, he chose to keep poking the easier target.

Nanami shot him a scathing look, definitely done. "I have a prior appointment. Goodbye."

"Hoh?! But! They'll have free drinks!"

For the life of him, Nanami just wanted to go back home. He had minus interest in free drinks and even less in Gojo himself, and he would make his points clear.

"For the last time, I'm telling you, I don't want any part in your—"

Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Ooh, wait a minute, Nanamin! I got a call!"

Nanami gritted his teeth in pure annoyance. He truly didn't care about his call and seized the chance to walk away quickly, eager to flee.

Until—

"Hello? Yes. Yes... what? Huh— Y/N is rushed to hospital?"

...and that caused him to halt abruptly. Suddenly, his entire body went rigid, as if he had been doused with a bucket of cold water.

You're hurt?

"I mean why—the hell? Severe bleeding?!" Gojo's voice dramatically rose, seemingly in surprise. "Whoa, uh, traffic accident?!"

Within seconds, everything as he knew it came to an end. He spun around, yanking the phone from Gojo's grasp, indifferent to whether it caught the latter off guard or not.

"Which hospital is this?" he demanded from the person on the other end, his voice rough and harsh. Suddenly, the fog in his mind dissipated, and he was consumed by panic.

"I'm sorry, sir, that's not—oh, it's Tokyo General Hospital—"

"Thank you." Nanami shoved the phone back to Gojo and broke into a sprint, in search of taxi.

At this moment, everything was a plethora of chaos—his surroundings melded into a blur, the constant honking of nearby vehicles echoed in his ears, and the relentless pounding in his chest threatened to overwhelm him. Nothing else held any significance. Nothing, except you.

Why did you get hurt? How did you even get into a traffic accident?

This was maddening. His world was falling apart hard and fast. The beginnings of heartbreak, stirring and churning in the depths of his stomach, once again threatened to drown him whole—

To others it may seem laughable that he was this shaken over an ex-wife, but precisely because you were his ex-wife was why he was running through the streets of Shibuya, opting not to take the cab as the traffic jam was at its peak.

Oh, how Nanami regretted it. He regretted a multitude of things; those long nights, silent treatments, your tears, divorcing you. If he could turn back the time, he'd do anything in his power to prevent that divorce from ever happening. He'd treasure you better, he'd make time for you more—

Because what if, now you were really slipping away from him for good? What if, he would never see you ever again?

Within minutes, he arrived at the said hospital, haggard, spooking the nurses, demanding your room number.

Thank heavens that the visiting hour wasn't over yet. He marched towards the said room, all of his logic and rationale flying out of window as he threw open the door.

And then he saw the pristine bed, IV drip, and you—

Sitting upright on the bed, turning a page of a magazine, your eyes widening and blinking at him in complete confusion—

Huh, what?

The last thing you would expect after waking up in the hospital was your ex-husband barging in unannounced, looking as though he'd just survived a whirlwind.

"Kento...?" you almost squeaked, taken aback at the sight.

His hair was a sweaty mess, his usually immaculate suit was crinkled and his tie was loosened, but it was the look in his eyes that grabbed your attention—as if expecting the worst.

“Are you alright?” he grounded out, approaching you in deliberately slow steps. “How long has it since you woke up?”

“Um... yes? Since about an hour or so.” You frowned. “Kento, what are you doing here?”

“They said you have severe bleeding, involved in an accident—”

“What! No! Did the hospital reach out to you?” you felt a bit uncomfortable at the thought. “I was sure I have removed you from my emergency contacts—”

“Gojo did—”

Suddenly, understanding dawned on him, and he cursed under his breath. “That rotten bastard!”

You blinked, unsure of what he meant at all. To his credit, Nanami didn’t dwell long on his thoughts and faced you once again with another fresh batch of confusion. “Wait, Gojo is your emergency contact? Why?”

“Should anything happen to me and a payment is required to settle it, he can handle the bills first?”

If Nanami didn’t look exasperated before then he sure did now. “Y/N… you…”

He released the deepest sigh imaginable before settling onto the sofa, further tousling his hair and removing his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose.

“Did you know I ran to get here because I thought something bad happened to you?” Nanami stated in a strained voice.

Why did your heart skip a beat? Why was Nanami suddenly playing the part of a concerned husband when the time for it has long passed?

Feeling suddenly irritated, you rolled your eyes. “I just passed out due to high blood pressure. It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” his eyes squared on you, quiet anger behind them. “In what sense does you passing out ever ‘not a big deal’? What have you been doing?”

"Why does that even matter to you still?" you contested. "You were the one who said everyone should stop linking us together by now."

"Y/N, you're missing the—"

"You divorced me!" you screamed, tears threatening to spill from your eyes as the urge to cry threatened to consume you. "You... h-have divorced me, Nanami Kento!"

Nanami felt as if a blade had pierced and twisted his chest at the sight of you—your quivering form, the stifled sobs. He had never wished to see you in such despair again.

"So why!" you finally broke down and sobbed. "Why did you play the caring husband now? Why not before? Why do you keep toying with my feelings...?"

"I'm not." Nanami grunted, getting up and approaching your bed. "I never meant to. That was never my intention. I never—"

"Then what!? What are you doing? Why did you throw me out just like that and why now—"

"Believe me when I said that I never want you to be miserable!"

You halted mid-rant, eyes wide as you gazed at him. Blinking, you felt a tear roll down your cheek. It was the first time Nanami had ever raised his voice at you. Even in the past, he never had.

But suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through your abdomen, causing you to instinctively clutch it. You whimpered, a nearly involuntary squeak escaping you, feeling the intense burn inside.

Nanami immediately got a hold of your hunched form, alarmed. "What is it? What hurts?" When all you could manage were pained sniffles in response, he swiftly hit the nurses' button and enveloped you in his embrace.

"Hold on," he comforted, placing a hand over where you clutched your abdomen, trying to offer some relief in any way. "They'll be here soon, don't pass out!"

"Mmngh," you gripped his hand in response, squeezing it as you slumped into his chest. For the first time in six months, you were enveloped in his warmth once again, and despite everything that had transpired, you were deeply moved by his gesture.

It took seeing you in such distress to dispel any doubts Nanami may have had. You were so petite against him, so delicate as you squirmed amidst your tears.

Had you experienced pain like this in the past six months? The thought made his heart lurch. Did no one comfort you at all?

. . .

And that was when he decided it.

He never, ever wants to see you in any sort of pain, ever again. And should it happen, then he'll be the one staying by your side, just like this.

Alcoholic gastritis. You consumed so much alcohol that it irritated your ulcer and causes a really painful tummy ache.

You could feel Nanami's judging gaze on you as your attending doctor explained your predicament. Truth to be told, you were quite ashamed. Your unhealthy lifestyle were laid bare before your ex-husband and it made you feel like a kid being scolded for misbehaving.

After the doctor left, Nanami sighed and pulled out a chair next to your bed. "Are you feeling better now?"

"Yeah..." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "Sorry, that... you have to see that."

But thankfully, he was unflappable as ever. "Nothing to be sorry about. It's fine."

You were kind of embarrassed of your outburst earlier too. While you didn't regret expressing your feelings, you pondered if could've done it in a less confrontational way.

At this point, you'd accept anything. Even if Nanami told you off after this—

"Let me continue from what I was saying earlier," he suddenly began, catching your attention. You perked up, and looked at him expectantly.

Nanami released a deep sigh, and the words he spoke next were ones you never thought you'd hear from him again.

"Did you remember what I said when I proposed our divorce?" he asked, somewhat rhetorically. You wordlessly nodded, because it was one of the lines that made you unable to hate him completely.

"I said, you don't deserve to be unhappy." Nanami looked you right in the eyes, undaunted. "And that still stands until now."

Now fully engrossed in his words, the rhythm of your heart intensified, echoing in your chest.

"It wasn't a decision I blurted out lightly. I know you're hurt, because I am too. I married you with a reason. I have loved you. and if you were to ask me now, my answer would be the same—I am still in love with you."

Why did it feel like your vision was beginning to blur once more?

"But," Nanami's face contorted into a frown, gazing hard at you. "If staying with me is what makes you miserable—if waiting nights after nights, hoping I can make it each time haunts you so much—then I'm more than willing to release you from that burden. I don't want to subject you to that life."

Warm tears slid down your cheeks. Sniffling, you averted your gaze, looking downwards.

"Look, I make you cry again," he sighed, a mix of fondness and sadness in his voice, as a bitter smile graced his lips. One of his thumbs gently lifted your jaw, while the other tenderly wiped away your tears.

"Kento, I—" you quickly looked up, swallowing the lump in your throat. You had made up your mind. "I don't want you to leav—"

"I know," he cut in, his voice solemn, as he stroked your tear-streaked cheeks. "I know, and that's exactly why I'm going to say what I'm about to say next."

And with his next words, your heart burst into complete, utter warmth—

"Let's start over." Nanami Kento's voice was your lifeline, anchoring you and keeping you afloat. "We can take our time. There's no rush—we can return to how things were in the beginning. And when you're ready, then and only then... will I ask you to marry me again."

The one person who has your heart in his grasp, someone whom you are willing to care way more than yourself... You were openly sobbing now and yet a radiant smile broke through your tears.

There was only one answer you had in mind.

Five years later

"Yes! Yes! Yay!"

Today was sunny, just like the day of your wedding. Memories flooded back as you glanced at the grand wedding portrait in the foyer, a snapshot of yourself and your husband in blissful celebration.

A smile tugged at your lips as you stared at the gentle smile on Kento's face amidst his typically stiff posture. You remembered his vows to you.

The one person who I will look for the rest of my life... is you. I have never met someone so important and precious to me that it hurts.

The sound of a car pulling up snapped you out of your reverie. Oh, he's home.

As you opened the door, your smile grew even broader, until a small figure darted past you at such speed that you were left gawking.

"Daddy!" your daughter's voice rang out with pure delight, leaping into your husband's arms the moment he swung the car door open, catching him off guard.

"Oh my, why are you so sweaty?" Kento inquired, scrutinizing your daughter with a puzzled frown, yet holding her close. "I thought we're going to the playground after this?"

"She's so excited for it that she keeps running and jumping around all the while," you chimed in with a gentle sigh, affectionately ruffling your daughter's hair as she beamed up at both of you.

Before long, the three of you set off to the playground, fulfilling the promise you had made to your daughter. As she entertained herself with the slides, Kento's low chuckle drew your attention. "What's so funny?"

"She takes after you a lot, you know," he remarked, a fond smile on his face. "The way she is just full of energy."

"Really? But sometimes she'll get this wrinkly little scowl on her face when she's annoyed—she looks like you then."

"Wrinkly...? No, surely I don't have that many wrinkles yet..."

Your laughter filled the air, a testament to the joy found in these simple, everyday moments.

Unexpected moments of joy, the comfort of family, and a love that had grown and evolved, stronger and more resilient with time...

And this, is what you'd call a happy marriage.

[mrsbarnesblog]

cost of betrayal

masterlist

summary: after Rafe finds out the truth about you and Hollis, he comes back from Morocco, expecting you to be gone, but you refuse to leave without trying to work things out first

word count: 1.7k.

warnings: part 2 spoilers, angst and fluff, pogue reader, arguments, trust issues

a/n: i stand Sofia and Rafe, guys. need them together asap 🙏

“I think I told you to get the fuck out of my house, Y/N?” It’s the first thing you hear when Rafe walks through the front door of his house, throwing his bag on the floor and walking right past you, not even looking in your direction. You get up from the couch, wiping your sweaty hands on your pants. 

Your chest feels tight, and your eyes are still swollen and red from the amount of crying as you silently follow him to the kitchen. That one stupid decision can cost you everything, including the man you love, and for the past few days, all you have been able to do is cry and curse yourself for being so stupid. 

You stop when Rafe leans forward with his hands on the counter, his back is unusually tense, you feel anger radiating from him even from a distance and it’s all your fault, you know that. 

“We need to talk.” You whisper, coming closer and hugging yourself with your arms. 

“I have nothing to talk to you about.” 

“Rafe, please. I need to explain.” He turns around suddenly, blue eyes colder than you have ever seen. You almost step back from Rafe’s intense gaze, because never before were you at the receiving end of that look. He was nothing but sweet and kind to you during your entire relationship, so losing that privilege hurts you even more. 

He tries to hold back, tries to calm himself down at the image of your looking at him so sadly, with regret written all over your face. Rafe breathes heavily, trying to hide the pain of feeling played by you—the only person he thought he could trust wholeheartedly. He hates that even now, even with the anger raging inside him, he still feels that instinct to protect you, to calm you.

Hurts at the realisation that he doesn't want to lose you, that a part of him feels like he cannot survive without you, that even after what you’ve done he can’t let you go. He doesn’t want you to actually leave him alone. 

“The fuck you need to explain? The way you betrayed me, huh?” He takes slow steps towards you, intimidating, almost threatening, but his voice shakes with emotions. “The way you went behind my back with that bitch Hollis to screw me up and make me lose my money? I fucking trusted you, I gave you everything and you still did that to me.” Rafe’s face was just inches from yours and you were unable to take your eyes from his, unable to even deny it, because he was not wrong. 

“I know, Rafe, I know!” You sob, unable to hold back your tears. “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant to set you up like that. I was angry at you and she appeared at that exact moment, and... 

“She was fucking angry!” He yells, throwing his hands up in the air. You flinch but still stay your ground. 

“Because you hurt me, Rafe!”

“Bullshit. I did nothing but take care of you.”

“I heard what you told your friends.” You yell back, not caring about trying to communicate properly anymore. You were wrong for doing that, yes, but the way his words made you feel at that moment was probably the worst pain you’ve ever experienced, so it wasn’t like you were the only one to blame. “That you’re not living with a pogue, that you have standards, that we’re just hooking up... I heard it all, Rafe. How did you expect me to react to that, huh?”

You see a slight shift of recognition or even regret in his eyes, but he quickly goes back to his previous coldness. 

“So you made me lose my money because of this shit?” 

“I know that it was wrong, okay? But... but do you understand what I felt at that moment? Do you understand how much it hurt me to hear it?” You sob again, desperately trying to wise away all of the tears that were streaming down your face. You’re barely able to speak properly with the lump in your throat, but you push it away because you feel there’s only one chance for you to get things straight with Rafe. 

He stays silent, his brows are knitted, whether in still-lingering anger or in a hint of regret and frustration because of the way you were feeling. Rafe always hated seeing you cry, seeing you hurt in any type of way, even if he hasn’t always been able to admit or express it, and now part of him is more angry at himself than at you. Your trembling frame, the way your shoulders shake with each sob, chips away at his anger, leaving only the fear of losing you.

“We’ve been together for more than a year, Rafe. I— I thought that it meant something to you. That I mean something to you. I was hoping that maybe all of your kook and pogue bullshit was long forgotten, but you didn’t even hesitate to say that to Topper.” Your voice is filled with sadness and despair, and you are aware that you are probably looking a mess right now. All  you can do is just wipe your face with the loose sleeves of your shirt, sniffing in between your words and trying to make your voice less shaky. 

"How was I supposed to feel?" How would you feel if you were in my situation, Rafe? If I said you did not mean anything to me and I was just having a good time?" You ask, but don’t get an answer. Instead, he just looks at you silently, with a blank expression, because he knows that he would’ve gone absolutely crazy. “I love you. I did for a long time, but you made me feel as if I was nothing to you. Just another pogue that you despise, that you keep around for fun until you find someone better and just dump!” Placing a hand on your violently beating heart, you take a deep breath before continuing. 

“It was stupid. I regretted it as soon as I did it and I wanted to tell you, but you had already signed the contract. I know I hurt you with what I did. But can you really say you didn’t hurt me first?” 

“Maybe I shouldn’t have said it. I didn’t… I didn’t mean it like that. He finally mutters, his voice quieter now. “But you don’t get it, Y/N. All my life, everyone’s expected me to be a certain way, to follow the same fucking rules I don’t even believe in. I thought… I thought if I kept us under the radar, I’d protect you from that. And you know how hard it is for me to open up—that I don’t want to let people in because everyone ends up leaving me.” 

“I never meant to betray you, I never wanted to be another person who hurts you, Rafe.” You feel like you are about to collapse, burying your face in your hands and crying. 

It feels like a joke of your spiraling mind at first, but when your body suddenly gets embraced in a familiar warmth and scent, you break down completely. Rafe hugs you around your shoulders and you wrap your hands around his waist, gripping the back of his shirt and hiding your face in his chest. You’re sniffing and trembling, unable to breathe properly, until you feel his hand at the back of your head and his low voice shushing you. 

“Breathe, baby. Just breathe. ‘S okay.” He rocks both of you from side to side until your breathing straightens. The steady beating of his heart soothes you quickly, until your tears get dry on your face. “I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry. I was an idiot for not protecting you the way I should’ve.” You feel him slightly leaning down. Slow, delicate kisses being left on your temple, on your cheek, and with a slight movement of your head, Rafe’s able to capture your lips. 

Your face is still sticky with tears, and your lips are swollen, but neither of you care as you start to melt against him. It’s been way to long since he left for Morocco. The stress that you’ve experienced from your fight and from the fact that you were going crazy about his safety was overwhelming. 

While he was kissing you slowly, you both realized how hard it was to stay apart for that long, not sure of what was happening between you two. 

“I’m sorry that you lost so much money because of me.” You mumbled when he pulled away, resting his forehead on yours. 

“You know it’s not the damn money I actually care about. I thought that I was wrong about you, that I lost you, Y/N.” You shake your head against his, caressing the sides of his face with your hands. 

Rafe lifts his free hand that was not holding your waist, placing it on top of your hand and you see the way his tense shoulders immediately relax at the feeling of his mother’s ring still on your finger. 

“We’re making it official. I don’t care about this pogue bullshit, don’t care about whatever Topper with his crazy bitch or other kooks think about it. I’m not wasting my time anymore.” You smile through happy tears now, looking Rafe in the eyes, seeing that familiar warmth that you were afraid to never experience again. He smirks back at you, holding you tighter against his chest. “No more hiding and lying, yeah, baby? I love you.” 

“Y-yes. No more of that stuff. I love you too, Ray.” You giggle before he drags you even closer to kiss you again. 

[asce-of-hearts]

asce! , here’s an idea maybe the reader tries to escape but gets caught by the yandere but instead like a physical punishment or scolding cause they think your acting this way cause you want attention. so they start babying you and just smothering you with affections, kisses, cuddles etc and constantly trying to dumb you down and teach you a lesson .

-🦊

Smothered

contents: Yan!Naruto, Yan!Kakashi, Yan!Gaara, Yan!Jiraiya and Yan!Kiba catching gn!reader escaping and thinking they only did it to get their attention.

more content for Gaara here

more content for Naruto, Kakashi, Jiraiya and Kiba here

A/N: These are just small drabbles to get into writing again, sorry if they're shorter than usual :,)

WARNINGS: ESCAPE ATTEMPTS, YANDERE, OBSESSIVE AND POSSESSIVE BEHAVIOR, NSFW-ISH IN SOME PARTS, MANIPULATION, COHERTION.

Gaara

Gaara is sure this is his fault.

He knows he isn't... the most affectionate. Maybe that's why you did this, for him to show that he cares for you, that he would like to remain by your side forever and ever.

His touch is rough and coarse, and he rubs himself against you like an overgrown kitten. His eyes closed, your hands restrained by sand that hurts every time it rubs against your sensitive skin. His lashes flutter as he opens his eyes to look at you, offering the most gentle of smiles.

"I... I love you..." He whispers, and you shudder. He says it so mechanically, like he's not entirely human, you squirm, and his heart leaps with joy. Are you trying to get out of your restraints to touch him? Cradle his head and kiss him? Oh, how beautiful you are. But he can't let you go for now, he has a point to prove. "I will always love you. And you never have to do this again. I will provide you with all the attention and care you ask me for."

The sand wraps around your neck when you try to scream for help.

Jiraiya

"Stupid, stupid little thing. There was no need to do all this drama if you wanted attention and love." He grins, flicking you on the forehead before kissing the bruised spot. He has you effectively trapped with rope, unable to do anything but move your head and the tips of your toes. Have I mentioned he also has you gagged? "But I get it, you know? I have been traveling for my job and my investigations. I haven't destined you enough time. But enough of that! Now I will be next to you every single second of the day." He punctuates every last of those words with a kiss to your face.

He carries you over his shoulder, not even making an effort as he tosses you over himself as if you weight nothing. He delivers a tap to your ass.

"But first I have to get you home... and compensate for all the love I haven't given you."

The predatory smile that plays on his lips is enough of a warning for you to never try anything like what you did again.

Kakashi Hatake

"I thought we would be over with this... childish behavior by now," He sighs, rolling his eyes when you try to kick him, as if the trap he set hadn't you dangling upside down. "Then again, I can't blame you for... lashing out. I guess I've been neglectful."

He pushes you slightly, making you dangle from side to side. He smirks, and then stops you, unties you and only restrains you by grabbing you by the wrists. He rests his chin over your shoulder.

"I could pop your wrist bones right now and get this over with, but since I'm mostly to blame, I'll let it pass for now." His voice always holds that teasing tone, like he's making fun of you. As he makes you walk back inside your home, his touch loosens, ultimately only guiding you by the small of your back. A power move, a reminder of how he could stop you in a second if you tried to go for a run again. Your escape attempts useless. "I'm sorry, m'kay? I'll be all the more doting from now on."

He relishes on how you can't refuse.

Kiba Inuzuka

He pins you to the ground, panting, breathing heavily, almost drooling. He's too much like a dog.

"Almost-" He takes a second to catch his breath. "Almost escaped me there. What were you trying to do now? Help me with my training?" He plays oblivious to what you were doing. You're both sweaty and covered in dirt from the forest, from the running and from the rolling around in the dirty when he tackled you. "It's not that useful, because your smell is already engraved in my brain. I could find you anywhere at anytime... as long as you don't change your perfume."

He collapses on top of you, clinging to your body as he tries to scent you, to get more of you inside his brain, his nose, his mouth. You catch the grunt and the soft whimper that escapes his lip as he starts to lick at the nape of your neck.

At how you can feel the tent in his pants as he rubs himself against you.

Naruto Uzumaki

"Don't do that, I'm sorry. I know I have been busy, but I'm here now." His voice is a childish whine, almost reminding you of the age that you both met. He clings to you, his claws out at the thought of you leaving him. He can't let you leave, you're his only one, you're his. "I'll take a short vacation. I'll be with you all the time, alright? I promise, I promise!"

He sounds like he's about to cry, but he's just trembling, holding you so tight you think he might break your ribs by accident if he tightens his grip just a little more.

"Are you leaving me because you hate me?" His eyes are intense, filled with longing, with possessiveness and with sadness. A mixture of emotions that just shouldn't be together. You can't help it when you shake your head, disagreeing. He smiles, holding you tighter, making you gasp in pain. "I knew it. I knew you didn't hate me."

He peppers kisses all over your face, the claws and the tail and the burning chacra that surrounded him disappearing quickly. He curls against you on the bed, spooning you.

"I will never, ever let you leave."

hope you enjoyed this

have a great day/night

TAGGING: @mimihaitani

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[gtgbabie0]

synopsis: {You find yourself under a very stressed, overworked Sherif!Caitlyn’s desk}

Holy horny wtf. !!-18//MDNI-!!

warnings: g!pcaitlyn mean!caitlyn assistant!reader hair pulling rough blowjob ‘puppy’ ‘slut’ dacryphilia smut no plot.

You don’t have a backbone. You’re far too obedient, to a fault really. Maybe the blame wasn’t completely on you— I mean what woman in their right mind would ever refuse to get on her hands and knees for Piltovers Sheriff? None other than the Caitlyn Kiramman herself. You were lucky.

You knew you were lucky it didn’t take a damn rocket scientist to read the looks of jealousy everyone shot at you in the department— seething at the fact you got special treatment, to be the assistant of Topside's finest shot and god did you absolutely drink it up, sometimes in the literal sense, like now for example.

Pathetically whimpering around the thickness of her cock— spit and cum foaming at the corners of your lips as Caitlyn’s fingers tighten in your hair, urging you deeper into her crotch until your nose was nestled into that dark patch of hair. You can take more of her, she knows you can. It’s not the first time you’ve kneeled in between her thighs, tucked under her work desk after a long day of paperwork.

“That’s it— such a pretty mouth.” Her accent is heavier, rougher around the edges in a half-assed attempt at holding back those moans you’re trying so desperately to pull out from her. “Oh— fuck, s’mine— that little mouth belongs to me, huh?”

“Mmhm!— yours.” Your sounds are muffled around her cock, the vibrations causing her to tug a little sharper at your locks which only makes you moan and her seethe, suddenly pulling you back— the emptiness in your mouth has you whimpering in protest, brows all furrowed.

“Fucking watch it, slut.” Caitlyn snaps, dark eyes narrowed into mean slits— glaring down at you as she drags her thumb over the slick, pillowy flesh of your bottom lip, collecting the filthy mix of spit and cum and pushing it back into your overly eager mouth. “Or I’ll find another cock-sleeve, you don’t want that do you?” Her threat pierces something deep inside you, because what were you without her, without this?!

You’re immediately shaking your head, looking up at her from where you’re kneeling on the hardwood floor, hidden beneath her dark mahogany desk, through thick— wet lashes all pleadingly like some neglected puppy. “Uh-uh! no— no, I’ll do better!” shiny lips pouting, “I swear!”

Caitlyn doesn’t know whether she wants to keep pushing, just to see you spill a few tears or to soothe you. Oh, you make it so hard for her. Painfully hard.

She presses the tip of her cock against your mouth, rubbing the sticky pre-cum over your lips as you wait so patiently for her command— “Go on, take it like a good puppy.”

Your eyes light up, fingertips digging into her toned thighs as you take her length back into your mouth with the help of her guiding hands that were nothing but rough— forcing the head of her cock to the back of your throat until your gagging around her, those pretty little tears finally trickling down your cheeks— making her throb in your mouth.

And you— in all your eagerness to make her cum— let her do it again until she’s bobbing your head up and down by the roots of your hair along her shaft to feel each stroke of the wet heat that is your mouth, the way your tongue twitches beneath the heaviness of her cock, how your cheeks hollow out around her. “Want my cum puppy— fuck— huh?” She pants, looking down at you with a smirk, “Gonna take it all down that pretty little throat f’me, yeah?”

You gargle some incoherent nonsense, salvia dribbling down your chin, staring up at her with those wide glossy eyes— practically begging her to shoot her load into your mouth. Caitlyn knows you want it more so by the way your throat bobs, your hips grind and how those freshly manicured nails nip into her thighs— she could only imagine how soaked you were, the fabric your panties drenched. The thought of how easily she could slip into that tight cunt of yours nearly sends her right off the edge.

“Oh— fuckin’ take it, puppy.” She groans, her hips bucking carelessly into your mouth, eyes rolling to the back of her head at the feeling of you moaning around her— “Such a good cum-slut all for her Sheriff.”

Caitlyn’s head tips back against her chair, “Fuck— gonna cum— m’gonna— ah— ah fuck.” a strangled noise rips from the back of her throat, whining, as she empties herself down your throat, her cock twitching in your hot mouth. Her fingers tightening into the roots of your hair as you take her load— drinking up every last drop of her hot sticky cum, feeling it trickle down your chin thickly.

Her gaze flutters back down to you— loving how absolutely debauched you look, hair a mess, eyes all watery, cheeks tear stricken. Her own personal fuck toy. She pulls you back, thumb caressing over your jaw soothingly and you don’t stop yourself from leaning into her palm needily. “Look at you, such a pretty puppy.” Her fingertips graze over your chin, collecting her cum back up only to smear it over your glossy lips, her eyes darkening in awe— “So fucking pretty.”

[hsnlv]

stay | p.js

req!: a request from this! (requests are always open btw!!)

pairing: husband!jay x fem!reader

warnings: pregnancy loss, grief, self-blame, emotional distress, angst! plsplspls stay away if you’re very sensitive abt this topic

a/n: this is actually a prequel to “together | p.js” ! :// i know that this topic can be veryy sensitive to some people and i tried my best to put it out as relatable(?) but also respectful as i can! comments and reblogs are highly appreciated 💗here’s my masterlist!💗

how it happened, you weren’t sure.

one moment, your baby was safe inside you, a little life growing, a part of you. the next, the doctor’s voice filled the room—gentle, regretful.

“i’m sorry.”

two words. just two. but they ripped through you like a knife, severing the world you knew from the one you were suddenly forced to live in.

you don’t remember how you got home. don’t remember how you ended up here, lying in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. your hands press against your stomach, desperate to feel something, anything. but there’s only emptiness. an aching hollow space where life once was.

you want to scream, to let out the unbearable weight crushing your chest, but the air feels thick, choking, like it refuses to leave your lungs. you want to cry, but you can’t. because maybe you don’t deserve to.

if you had just been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened, right?

but it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.

all you wanted was a warm cup of chocolate milk. just something simple, something comforting. you reached for the chocolate powder on the top shelf, stretched just a little too far—then everything blurred. a slip, a sharp gasp, the world tilting before you hit the ground.

you know it wasn’t your fault. you know that. but who else can you blame?

was this the universe’s way of telling you that you weren’t ready? that you weren’t meant to be a mother?

but if that was true, why did it give you this baby in the first place, only to take them away?

“angel.”

jay’s voice is soft, careful, as he sits beside you. you don’t move, don’t even blink.

his hand finds your head, fingers brushing away the messy strands of hair stuck to your forehead. his touch is so, so gentle—like he’s afraid that if he presses too hard, you’ll break. or worse, you’ll disappear entirely.

because he knows you’re barely holding on.

he lost his child, too. and yet, his first thought is still you.

he knows how much you loved this baby. how every night, you whispered to them, caressing your belly like you could somehow make them feel the love in your heart.

“you’re going to grow up so pretty… or handsome!”

“my precious, precious little baby.”

“mama and dada are going to love you so, so much.”

but those words don’t belong to you anymore.

jay lets out a slow breath, grounding himself before he speaks. “come on, baby. let’s get up and get you some food, okay?”

you don’t move. you can’t.

instead, the words slip from your lips, fragile and uncertain. “did i fail you?”

it’s barely a whisper, but he hears it.

your biggest fear, the thought clawing at the back of your mind—you lost your baby, and now you’re afraid you’ve lost your husband, too.

what if he’s disappointed in you? what if he looks at you and sees nothing but the person who lost the one thing that mattered most?

what if he leaves?

all over a stupid cup of chocolate milk.

jay doesn’t even let the thought settle.

before you can spiral any further, he moves, wrapping his arms around you, holding you close like he can physically shield you from your own pain.

his voice is steady, unwavering. “never. you can never fail me.”

your breath hitches.

“do you hear me, baby?” he pulls back just enough to cup your face in his hands, tilting your chin up so you have no choice but to look at him. his eyes shine with something so deep, so full of love, it nearly breaks you all over again. “this is not your fault. not even a little bit. you didn’t do anything wrong.”

you shake your head, voice cracking. “but if i— if i just—”

“no.” his thumbs swipe away the tears you didn’t even realize had started falling. “no what-ifs. no blaming yourself. you did everything right, okay?”

you sniffle, fingers weakly grasping at the fabric of his shirt like it’s the only thing keeping you from crumbling completely.

jay leans in, pressing his forehead against yours, his warmth grounding you. “i love you,” he murmurs, lips ghosting over your skin. “so much. you are everything to me. and this—this pain we’re feeling, we’ll get through it together. you’re not alone, angel. you’ll never be alone.”

you let out a shaky breath, and he takes it as a sign to pull you even closer, wrapping himself around you completely.

“you’re allowed to grieve,” he whispers. “you’re allowed to be sad, to be angry, to feel everything. and i’ll be here for every second of it.”

he presses soft kisses along your hairline, down to your temple, his hands never stopping their soothing movements against your back. “but don’t ever think for a second that you failed me. if anything, i feel like i failed you.”

you pull back at that, brows furrowing. “what? no, jay—”

“i couldn’t protect you,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “i wasn’t there to catch you, to stop this from happening. i would take this pain from you if i could, baby. in a heartbeat.”

your chest tightens. how could he think that?

“but i am here now,” he continues, determined. “and i’m going to take care of you. so let me, okay?”

you nod, and that’s all he needs.

jay spends the rest of the night holding you. when your body shakes with sobs, he’s there, whispering sweet reassurances against your hair. when you’re too exhausted to cry anymore, he helps you change into something comfortable, guiding you with patient hands. when you finally let yourself fall asleep, he doesn’t let go, his arms locked securely around you.

he stays.

he always stays.

weeks later, you find yourself in the bathroom, heart pounding as you stare at the pregnancy test in your hands.

two pink lines.

©️ all rights reserved | hsnlv | 2025

[all4simone]

𝙖𝙘𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮 𝙤𝙣 𝙥𝙪𝙧𝙥𝙤𝙨𝙚 - 𝙨𝙚𝙫.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

council!sevika x council!reader

| summary: getting to know the infamous sevika, now a council member. (post-arcane s2)

| c/w: mentions of smoking, not proofread

| w/c: 1.3k

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

...council!sevika, who refused to become friends with anybody on the council. It was all strictly professional to her.

...council!sevika, who shared a cigarette with you on the balcony of a boring council party that you both were forced to attend.

sevika flicked her head around mid drag to the noise of a glass door opening. she was faced with your bewildered expression at her presence, your leg stopping half way out the door. the cigarette fell between sevika's middle and pointer finger as she exhaled the smoke. her jaw readjusted, eyes still fixated on your paralyzed stature. "my fault. I didn't know anyone was here," you exclaimed, red in the face with embarrassment. your leg quickly slipped back inside the door. sevika lifted up her hand to stop you. "you're fine. you can stay." she used her middle and pointer finger to call you over, the same pair that had a cigarette placed between them. you swallowed your nerves. slowly, you made your way to the edge of the balcony and rested your elbows on the railing. a stressful sign escaped your lips as the cold wind blew on your face. you turned to sevika, she was staring into piltover while puffing away at cigarette. she must've just lit it. "do you have another cigarette?" you asked without thinking before backtracking. "sorry, you don't have to give me one." your head whipped back in place. god, she was fucking scary. sevika took another drag before handing it to you; her eyes didn't move from the city. your hands, shaking, took the cigarette and put it up to your lips. weird. sevika didn't speak to anybody on the council besides for work. It wasn't exactly a bad thing, but it made her seem distant and cold. you can't exactly blame her, though. this is the same legislative team that ruined her home. you always really wanted to talk to her when she joined, but she was horrifying. her height, muscular body, piercing eyes, and all the stories going around collecting sweat among the council freaked everybody out. she didn't seem like the vicious monster that people made her out to be seen here, though. there was a sad and vulnerable look in her eye. "bored?" you handed her the cigarette. "yeah. surprised these motherfuckers don't sniff crack. would've made this so much more interesting." you chuckled. "a past councilor got kicked out for running a meth lab before." you added on. "no fucking way." she smirked, holding the cigarette to her lips. you nodded. "you wouldn't believe all the shit that goes on in these walls."

...council!sevika, who began to catch up with you to take a stroll before a meeting.

...council!sevika, whose eyes you noticed began to become calmer

...council!sevika, who would share glances with you during meetings, trying not to laugh at the others.

...council!sevika, who you asked to partner up with to develop a project in rebuilding zaun.

it was fucking late, but you needed to ask her. you needed to ask her to join the project. sevika's a night owl, you know she'll be up. you held your binder up to your chest, making your way to sevika's in a hasty manner. you just needed an okay from her, and then to pass out in bed. there were three figures in the distance. one you could recognize as sevika, and the closer you got, you could see two girls. the two of them laughed, gripping onto sevika's arms. she was slightly smirking. damn. why did that feel so weird to watch? you stood there, a few feet away from the trio, body filled with shock. It felt like the time you walked onto the balcony when sevika was on, but instead of fear, there was dread. while fumbling with her keys, she spotted you in the corner of her eye. she lifted her head up to meet your eyes, and the two girls stopped bickering. "you seem busy!" you panicked "I can catch you at a different time. sorry!" you gripped your binder tighter against your chest before fleeing the opposite way. you didn't even let sevika get a word in. the next morning, you visited sevika's room again. hopefully, you can pitch your idea to her this time. she opened her door; her hair was wet and slicked back. you smiled, and your eyes wandered around her room to not get too caught up on staring at her. her bed was a mess. you didn't even want to think about what happened in her room the other night. "hey, uhh...sorry about last night. It was probably uncomfortable seeing that." sevika attempted to apologize. she had the same vulnerable eyes as when you first spoke with her. you shook your head. "don't even apologize. It's fine." "they're not my girlfriends. I - uh just..." she stopped her sentence mid way, her hand came up to cover to mouth. her vessel turned to show you her back before clearing her throat. "anyways. what do you need to talk to be about?" you never even had the thought that those girls were her girlfriend.

...council!sevika, who would stare at you, suggesting ideas for the project. she simply just nods, not absorbing a single piece of information you said.

...council!sevika, who would invite you for drinks every night to the point it got you worried.

"fuckk...my backs killing me." she flexes her muscles. "lets go get drinks, yeah?" "sevika, you're actually an alcoholic. please get some help." "so, are we gettin drinks?" "yeah. whatever. I don't understand how this is supposed to help with your back, though."

...council!sevika, who grabs your wrists and pins them to the table whenever you talk over her.

...council!sevika, who slowly begins to speak with the other councilors with your help.

...council!sevika, who tries to swallow her feelings for you that creep on her, reminding herself she needs to keep things professional.

...council!sevika, who had one of the brothel workers show up at her door while you were working on the project.

...council!sevika, who went back to the brothel workers in an attempt to get you out of her mind.

...council!sevika, who was so shocked when she found out you like girls.

...council!sevika, who tries to hide her disappointment when you guys finish up your report.

...council!sevika, who ends up kissing you before you leave without thinking.

"you're seriously leaving already?" she crosses her arms in front of her chest, watching you throw on your jacket. "It's almost midnight, sev." you let out a breathy laugh before grabbing your things. sevika walks over to you, leaning down to zip up your jacket. you lift up your arms to give her space, feeling her warm body near you. you can't help but stare at her puppy-like face before she lifts her head up to meet your gaze. before you bust out laughing, your eyes glance up at the ceiling. you hear her smirk. she's always got that damn smirk on. her body raises back up and stuffs her hands in her pockets. the two of you walk up to her door, but before opening the door, sevika grabs your shoulder to turn you to look at her. "you sure you can't stay?" her hand stays on your shoulders. "you're seriously going to miss me that much?" you joked. sevika didn't respond. she only took you face with her hands and planted a small kiss on your lips. It was short; your lips barely touched, but it was sweet. she lifted her lips, both of your breathes mixing with each other. her hands stayed on your cheeks, both of you staring at each other, dismayed. sevika more than you. "shit! oh my god. I am so sorry." she reeled back her hands to her side. you only took her hands and locked your lips once more. "maybe I can stay a little longer."

...council!sevika, who asks you to be her girlfriend the same night.

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰➳

a/n: chat why is this so badddd omgggg I cantttt. I fr just wanted to get something out b/c I haven't posted in like 4 months, so I rushed this. my bad!!

[beneathashadytree]

A TASTE OF HONEY - SYLUS QIN X READER

Warnings : insecurities & body image issues, chubby & curvy!reader, mentions of stretch marks, body worship, praise kink, marking, very mild breast & nipple play, implied cunnilingus, reader is AFAB and uses she/her pronouns!

Genre : smut n loooots of comfort☹️🫶🏽

Word count : 1.4K words

Additional notes : This was a paid commission I made of a lovely OC with Sylus, and this version is just the slightly more non-specific version I took permission from my commissioner to post, so that all fem!readers can see what my commissions are like! If you’re interested let me know💗

Commissions are open here!

Tip jar!

Masterlist

“Another event, another dress with your name on it, sweetie.” Sylus’ grin as he walked into their bedroom would’ve almost been infectious, had her mood been entirely different than it currently was. Right now, though? His words seemed to have cast a curse onto her.

She had to fight against her growing irritation. It’s not his fault, he didn’t do anything to deserve it—unlike the majority of the times he’d earned her ire. This time, the dismayed feeling in her chest at the sight of the exquisite dress draped onto the back of the dresser’s chair was entirely because of her own racing thoughts.

“Skipping out tonight,” she simply mumbled under her breath, collapsing onto the bed with weary bones and an exhausted expression like she’d run a hundred miles. And she really had, just inside her head.

Sylus—ever perceptive Sylus—frowned at that, taking a seat at the edge of the bed beside her. “Tired?” Concern filled his eyes, and it only grew worse as she seemed to curl in on herself and burrow deeper into the mattress. “I could cancel.”

With a sigh, she shook her head “You’re Onychinus’ leader. You have to be there. My moods shouldn’t dictate whether or not you go.”

“You have the privilege of commanding me to do whatever you want. I say you abuse that right.” It was clear from his teasing tone that he was trying to get a lighthearted reaction from her, and upon receiving none, his voice turned softer. “Seriously, what’s wrong, darling?”

Her grip tightened on the bedsheet, blinking back the tears as she trained her gaze on her fingers. “I just… don’t want to wear that dress.”

Sylus was silent for a few moments, before he nodded. “Okay. Is it not to your liking?”

“Not really.” With a shuddering breath, she sniffled a little, trying to calm herself down as Sylus’ hand gently stroked her calves in a soothing motion. There was no point in getting so worked up after all, it’s always been the same. “Those types of dresses always show my stretch marks. They’re… kind of short. And tight. And weird-looking on me.”

Screw not getting worked up; her tears were dripping down her face at this point, her vision blurry and her heart heavy with each word that spilled forth. “It feels like every single one of these outfits makes my thighs look big, and my body’s not made for wearing them. It’s just… wrong, like I’m unworthy,” she choked on the last word in despair.

She could hear Sylus sighing, a twinge of sadness she’d never heard before lacing his words. “You couldn’t be more wrong.” Firm in tone, yet not unkind, her boyfriend leaned in and rubbed her forearms gently, making sure to meet her watery eyes as he did. “These dresses only show just how breathtaking you are, and how you belong by my side.” A crooked grin made its way on his face. “If anything, it feels like I have to earn my place next to you.”

“No! You—”

“See how absurd it sounds?” His deep voice was soft as he gently nudged her on her back, climbing in on top of her as his fingers delicately brushed back her hair. “I can never get enough of you. Of every inch of you. I almost refuse to believe you.” His gaze grew impossibly softer, voice even quieter, and his hand even gentler as it traced down her ear, rhythmically stroking at her neck. “But I know that really is what you’ve driven yourself to believe. And I can’t blame you for that.”

Wiping at her own cheeks, she tried her best to make herself feel less sorry. “It’s no one’s fault but mine. It’s not like anyone else has been telling these things to me.” What on earth was she doing, crying to him over dresses? Or her appearance at some stupid events? Or was it simply her body? She didn’t know at this point. All she knew was that she wanted to stop feeling so distraught over something so…

Before she could continue that train of thought, Sylus had silenced her rushing brain with a slow, open-mouthed kiss and a steady grip on her waist. Even now, he was ever the tease, nipping at her lower lip and huffing out a fond laugh as he heard her breath hitch, before pulling back. In half-defeat, he said, “Maybe I’m the one to blame for neglecting to remind you of what I think of you.”

He peppered kisses down her jaw and to her neck, his teeth grazing and sucking at the warm skin there. With a hiss, her hand reached out to pull him closer by the back of his head, and all he could breathe out against her was a stilted, “How often I think of you.” Practiced hands almost blindly pulled down the strap of her silk slip for more access, as he left his bold marks across her neck. His hair tickled her, but she reveled in the feeling even more as he traced a path down the top of her breasts.

They were heaving with the effort of having to pretend she wasn’t falling apart at the seams with his mere touch, and he let out a half-groan as his hand reached out to cup one, while he sucked more hickeys onto the flushed skin of the other. It was too much, but somehow not enough to ease the growing ache between her legs. “Sy,” she whispered, a plea in his name, quickly turning into a whimper of pleasure as his tongue boldly flicked at her nipple through the silk. “Don’t be cruel.”

“Mm. I could never. My pretty girl likes it when I indulge her, I know,” he muttered, ruby eyes flicking up to meet hers and pinning her down with just a gaze as he kneaded at her soft breasts through the thin fabric, his touch burning through her like wildfire. “Tell me where you want me. What you want me to do, to show you how I could never stop wanting you and your body.”

Swallowing thickly, her fingers dug into his silvery hair, like it was second nature, guiding him where she needed him the most. “Want your lips on me, please,” she whispered, as if it were explanation enough for the sudden dizzying heat of the room, and her eyes swimming with unwrought desire. “Tell me you want me like this. I… I need it. Need you.”

The chuckle that spilled from Sylus’ lips was lovesick, and then his large palms pushed her smooth slip up to her waist and expertly tugged down the ruined lacy underwear. “As if I could stop wanting someone so divine.” He sweetly kissed her navel, then completely diverted from his path for a second to squeeze at her thighs, hooking them up on his broad shoulders.

Even between her legs, he looked invincible—more so when he maintained their intense, passion-riddled eye contact as he suckled at the skin of her inner thighs. “So sweet, so perfect right in front of me,” he sighed, almost in just as much pleasure as she was while he brushed his thumb back and forth near the apex of her thighs, mapping out every stretch mark under his adoring touch, and giving her hips a firm squeeze as his hands wandered everywhere they could reach.

Her head was filled with cotton, all her senses consumed by him and all he was. “I can spell out just what you want me to say with my tongue instead.” The very prospect of it sent even more molten heat pooling to her core. Sylus’ tongue would be her undoing. She knew it, her body knew it, and his grin that turned wicked meant that he could see perfectly well just how dripping wet the idea made her.

That smirk was almost predatory; like she was his prey, all prepped and prettily pinned for him. It shouldn’t have aroused her so badly, knowing that he’d torture her with sheer blinding pleasure and a sinful tongue, and yet she could feel herself clench around nothing. He was her undoing, and always would be, especially when his voice was such a low purr. “And you can ride my face until you can translate every filthy word. What do you say, sweetie?”

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[moonlightdreamzz]

DISPATCH — ENHYPEN.

SUMMARY. When Dispatch exposes your relationship to the world, the backlash is relentless. Every word, every picture, every rumor becomes a test of how strong your love truly is. Will the pressure drive you apart, or will you hold on to each other against all odds?

GENRE. (A)

AUTHORS NOTE. Let me know if you all want a Part 2 <3. I love you.

Heeseung

The Dispatch article feels like a death sentence, glaring at Heesung from his phone screen. His hand trembles as he scrolls through the pictures—grainy but unmistakable. You, smiling at him like he hung the stars in the sky. Him, holding your hand, his guard down for once. Every glance, every touch, every stolen moment between you now dissected and exposed.

“Heesung,” you say softly, breaking the suffocating silence.

He doesn’t look at you. His jaw clenches, his chest swelling and deflating as though the weight of the world is pressing down on it. He swipes out of the article and tosses his phone onto the coffee table, pacing the room like a caged animal.

“They’re going to ruin you,” he says bitterly, his voice cracking. “They’re going to tear you apart.”

You flinch but force yourself to stay composed. “I knew the risks, Heesung. I knew what I was getting into.”

He lets out a sharp laugh, shaking his head. “No, you didn’t. You couldn’t have. You didn’t sign up for this. The threats, the stalking, the hate campaigns—it’s going to get so much worse now.” He finally turns to face you, his eyes dark with fear and frustration. “And it’s all my fault.”

Your heart aches at the sight of him unraveling, but anger flickers in your chest. “This isn’t just about you!” you snap, standing up. “Don’t you think I’ve thought about what this means for me? For us? I’m terrified too, Heesung. But sitting here blaming yourself isn’t going to fix anything.”

His eyes narrow, but his shoulders slump, the fight draining out of him. “What are we supposed to do, then? Huh? Pretend this didn’t happen? Apologize and say it was all a misunderstanding?” He runs a hand through his hair, his voice swelling with frustration. “Do you have any idea what they’re going to say? What they’re going to do to you?”

Your chest tightens, but you stand your ground. “Of course I do. I’m not stupid, Heesung. I know what people are capable of.” Your voice softens, cracking slightly. “But what do you want me to say? That I’ll leave? That I’ll run away to make it easier for you?”

Heesung stares at you, his eyes glistening. “Maybe you should,” he whispers, his voice barely audible.

The words hit you like a slap, and you take a shaky step back. “Do you mean that?”

“No,” he says immediately, his voice swelling with desperation. “God, no. I don’t mean it. But I don’t know how to protect you from this. From them.”

Tears blur your vision, but you refuse to let them fall. “I don’t need you to protect me, Heesung. I need you to be with me. To choose me, no matter how hard it gets.”

He hesitates, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “But what about my members? What about everything we’ve worked for? If this spirals out of control, it could ruin us all.”

Your lip quivers, and you force yourself to take a steadying breath. “I would never ask you to choose between me and your career. But you have to decide if this is worth fighting for. If we are worth it.”

He’s silent for what feels like an eternity, his chest rising and falling in uneven breaths. Then, finally, he steps closer, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared. I’m so scared, Y/N.”

You reach for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “So am I. But we can’t let them win. Not if this—” your voice wavers as you motion between the two of you—“means anything to you.”

He pulls you into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing tethering him to the ground. His lips press to the top of your head, lingering there. “It means everything to me,” he whispers, his voice raw.

For a moment, the world outside ceases to exist, and it’s just the two of you clinging to each other in the eye of the storm.

Jay

Jay leaned against the edge of the table in his dorm, the harsh glow of his phone screen casting long shadows across his face. His mind feels like it’s short-circuiting, the Dispatch article looping endlessly in his thoughts. The pictures. The headline. The comments.

The messages from the company had already started pouring in, frantic and demanding damage control. The members hadn’t said much yet, but Jay knows the weight of their silence.

Across the room, you sit curled into yourself on the couch, your face pale but composed. You’re scrolling through your own phone, but the way your hands tremble betrays the calm you’re trying to exude.

“We need to talk,” Jay says finally, his voice flat, hollow.

You look up, meeting his eyes. “Okay.”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, dragging a hand down his face as he searches for the words. “This… this isn’t just a scandal. This is everything. My career, my group’s career. You’ve seen what happens when fans turn like this.”

“I know,” you say softly, bracing yourself for what’s coming next.

Jay’s lips part, but for a long moment, he doesn’t speak. He wants to say it. He wants to tell you that it’s over, that he can’t risk everything he’s worked for, everything his members have worked for, just because he’d been reckless enough to fall for you.

But when he looks at you—your eyes wide and glassy, your shoulders set despite the storm surrounding you—something inside him cracks.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he says, his voice breaking.

“You already are,” you reply, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Jay’s chest tightens. He pushes off the table and paces to the other side of the room, his movements sharp with tension. “I don’t know how we fix this. I don’t even know if we can fix this.”

You stand, your movements deliberate as you walk toward him. “So what are you saying? That this is it? You’re just going to throw everything away?”

He flinches. “Don’t say it like that.”

“How else am I supposed to say it, Jay?” Your voice swells with emotion, but you refuse to yell. “We both knew what we were risking, and now that it’s real, you’re telling me what? That I was just some phase?”

Jay’s head snaps up, his eyes blazing. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re not a phase, Y/N. You’re—” He cuts himself off, raking a hand through his hair. “You’re everything. That’s the problem.”

Your breath catches, and you stare at him, stunned. “What?”

He exhales shakily, his hands flexing at his sides. “You’re everything, and that scares me. Because I can’t lose you. But if I stay, I risk everything else. My group, my family, my future—everything.”

You reach out, your fingers grazing his wrist. “Jay,” you say softly. “I’m not asking you to choose. I’m asking you to think about what we could be. What we already are.”

He looks down at your hand, then back up at you, his throat tightening. “I need time,” he says finally, his voice raw. “I need to figure out how to protect you, how to protect us. Because if I can’t… I don’t know how to do this.”

The silence that follows is deafening.

You nod slowly, your lips trembling. “Okay. Take your time,” you say, though it kills you to say the words. “But don’t make me wait forever, Jay. If you love me, you’ll find a way.”

He closes his eyes, your words slicing through him like glass. He doesn’t know how to respond, so he just pulls you into his arms, holding you like you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

“I’ll try,” he whispers against your hair, his voice so quiet you almost don’t hear it.

But for now, that’s all you can ask for.

Jake

Jake sat across from you in the dim living room of the apartment he hadn’t been able to step into since Dispatch released those photos. The air between you swells with a tension neither of you dared to cut through. His jaw flexes as his hand runs through his hair for what must be the hundredth time tonight. He looks like he hasn’t slept in days.

“I don’t even know where to start,” he whispers, his voice tight, like he’s trying to hold himself together.

“Maybe with how you feel,” you say softly. You’re sitting on the edge of the couch, knees pulled into your chest, arms wrapped around them. Your voice doesn’t waver, but your eyes sting from hours of holding back tears.

Jake looks up at you, his dark eyes flickering with conflict. “How I feel? I feel like I’ve destroyed everything,” he says, his voice rising for the first time tonight. “Do you know what the guys must be thinking right now? What HYBE is doing to contain this? The fans—”

“They’re already losing their minds,” you finish for him. Your throat feels tight, but you swallow hard. “I know, Jake. I know.”

The crack in your voice makes him pause. For a moment, he looks like he wants to move toward you, to hold you, to fix this in the only way he knows how, but he doesn’t. He stays where he is, gripping his knees until his knuckles turn white.

“Maybe this was a mistake,” he whispers, and your breath catches.

Your heart drops, but you nod slowly, forcing yourself to be the calm one when you feel anything but. “Do you really think we were a mistake?” you ask, your voice barely audible.

Jake stands abruptly, pacing the small room as if he’s searching for an answer in the air. “I don’t know! I don’t know, okay? I love you—God, I love you—but I didn’t think it would come to this. And now I’m risking everything—my group, my career, you. Do you get that? You’ll be dragged through hell because of me.”

“Jake…”

“No,” he says, spinning around to face you. His eyes are glossy now, his voice raw. “Do you know the kinds of things they’ll say about you? The kinds of things they’ll do to you? I don’t care what they say about me, but you…you don’t deserve that.”

“I don’t care about them!” you snap, your own emotions finally breaking through. “Do you think I didn’t know what I was getting into when we started this? I love you, Jake. I knew it would be hard, but I chose you.”

“And maybe you shouldn’t have!” he shouts, the words leaving his mouth before he can stop them. The second they’re out, he freezes, horror flooding his face. “No. No, I didn’t mean that—”

You stand now, the weight of his words slamming into you. “Maybe you’re right,” you whisper, your voice trembling.

“Y/N, don’t,” Jake whispers, stepping toward you, but you hold up a hand to stop him.

“No. You’re scared, and I get it. So am I. But don’t push me away just because you don’t know how to deal with this.” Your voice steadies now, and you look him in the eye. “You don’t get to decide for me how much I can handle. And you don’t get to say you love me and then act like this.”

Jake’s face crumples, and for the first time tonight, he looks like a boy who’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I’m sorry,” he says, his voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m just—God, I’m so scared, Y/N.”

You step forward, closing the gap between you, and gently take his hands. He flinches at first, but when you don’t let go, his shoulders finally sag. “We’ll figure this out,” you say softly. “Together. But only if you stop pushing me away.”

Jake doesn’t say anything, but the way he pulls you into his arms says everything. His hold is desperate, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear if he lets go.

“I love you,” he whispers into your hair, his voice breaking. “I love you so much it terrifies me.

You squeeze him tighter, your own tears finally falling. “I love you too, Jake. And I’m not going anywhere.”

Sunoo

Sunoo was standing by the window, his back to you, his hands pressed against the glass as if the city outside could offer him any sort of relief from the storm inside. The constant buzz of his phone—messages, calls, alerts—kept ringing in his ears, but he didn’t look at it. Not yet. He couldn’t.

He had never been one for confrontation, always the type to ease into things and let them unfold, but this—this was a different kind of chaos, one that he had never prepared himself for. His relationship with you, which had started out so quietly, so secretly, had now become the most public thing in his life.

“Sunoo,” you call softly from the couch, your voice a gentle tug at his heart. “Look at me.”

He finally turns, his face pale, eyes clouded with a mixture of fear and disbelief. “What are we supposed to do now?” he whispers, his voice barely audible as he moves toward you.

You stand up, reaching for him, your heart aching at how much he’s carrying. Sunoo, who had always been so careful, so measured with his emotions, now looked broken. The weight of the situation had crushed his usual sense of optimism, and for the first time, you saw him vulnerable, unsure of everything.

“I don’t know,” you say softly, “But we’re going to figure it out, okay?” You reach out and take his hand, his fingers trembling slightly under your touch.

Sunoo glances down at your intertwined hands, his heart heavy. “But what if it’s too much? The fans, the media, my members… our members…” His voice breaks at the last part, and it feels like a dagger to your chest. You know how deeply he values his group, how much he needs them.

“You think they’d want you to be miserable?” you ask, the question simple, but it cuts through the air with undeniable truth. “You think they’d want you to lose the one thing that makes you happy?”

Sunoo bites his lip, his eyes welling up. His throat tightens as he tries to fight back the tears, but you can see them. “But what about everything else? My career, my future… what if this ruins everything we’ve worked for?”

“You think I haven’t been thinking about that too?” you reply softly, stepping closer to him. “But I’m not going anywhere, Sunoo. And neither are you. I know this is a mess, but we’re in this together. We’ll figure out how to clean it up. You’re not alone in this.”

He looks down at you then, his gaze full of longing and a quiet gratitude, but also something else—something deeper. He looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. And in this moment, you are.

Sunoo pulls you into him, enveloping you in the kind of embrace that feels like home. “I never thought love would find me,” he murmurs, his voice muffled against your shoulder. “But here you are. And I’m not letting you go. Not now. Not ever.”

You hold him tighter, feeling the weight of his words settle in your chest. The world outside might be crumbling, but in this moment, with him in your arms, everything felt like it would be okay. You weren’t going to lose each other. You couldn’t.

“I love you, Sunoo,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” he replies, his voice firm now, like a promise. “And nothing will ever change that. Nothing.”

The rest of the world could burn, but for now, you had each other. And that was enough to get through this.

Sunghoon

Sunghoon’s phone buzzed for what felt like the hundredth time. Every vibration sent a wave of dread crashing into his chest. He knew it was over. The truth had come out, and there was no turning back. Dispatch had exposed the two of you, and now the whole world knew.

He paced around the room, trying to drown out the noise of his thoughts—the sound of his manager’s frantic voice on the other end of the line, the stream of messages from his members, and worst of all, the overwhelming silence from you, who was sitting on the couch, watching him with eyes that broke his heart every time they met his.

His usual calm, his usually composed demeanor, felt like a thin, cracking veneer now. Sunghoon wasn’t like this. He was always the steady one, the one who kept everything together. But now, with the weight of this secret out in the open, his grip on control was slipping.

“Sunghoon…” your voice is soft, almost hesitant. You had been quiet for a while, giving him space to figure out what to do, but it was clear that he was losing himself in the chaos.

He pauses, turning to look at you. His heart swells with a rush of emotion—guilt, panic, frustration, but most of all, a deep, overwhelming love. This wasn’t just some casual fling for him. It was real. It was everything. And yet, the fear of what would happen next, of what this might cost, was suffocating.

“I didn’t mean for any of this,” he says hoarsely, running a hand through his hair. “You don’t deserve this… the attention, the hate… I never wanted this to happen. Not to you. Not to us.”

You stand up slowly, approaching him. You could tell he was struggling with guilt, torn between wanting to keep you and wanting to protect you. You could feel it in the air. His love for you was deep, but so was his sense of responsibility for everything else—the group, his career, the expectations he had put on himself.

“Sunghoon,” you begin, your voice soft but resolute, “I know this is hard. I know it’s a mess, but we can’t ignore what’s happening. I can’t sway you. If breaking up is what you need to do, then we’ll do it. But this… this was real for me. And no matter what happens, I’ll always love you. Even if we can’t be together, I’ll always be here.”

He looks at you, his chest tightening with the weight of your words. There’s a moment of silence as his thoughts swirl, his eyes searching yours, trying to find an answer to all the uncertainty flooding his mind. He feels a mix of relief and fear, guilt and love, but mostly, he feels completely overwhelmed by the consequences of it all.

“You’re… you’re willing to just let go if that’s what we have to do?” he whispers, his voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and pain. “I’m terrified of losing you, but I don’t want to drag you into this mess.”

You nod, your hand reaching up to gently cup his face. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not saying it won’t hurt. But we’re both grown enough to understand what’s at stake. And I’ll love you either way. If we can’t be together, I’ll still carry you with me. But I’m not going to beg you to stay in something that’s going to destroy everything.”

Sunghoon’s breath hitches, his emotions breaking through his usual composure. His hands tremble as he reaches out, pulling you into him. His heart pounds against yours, and he can’t help but feel the weight of everything pressing on him—the fear, the loss, and the love that he had never intended to let go of.

“I love you,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “I never wanted this to happen. And I’m so sorry.”

“I love you too,” you reply, your voice steady despite everything. “No matter what happens, no matter what this does to us, I’ll never stop loving you. But we have to do what’s right. We both know that.”

The room is silent except for the sound of your breathing, both of you standing on the edge of an unknown future. There’s a heartbreaking clarity in your words, an understanding of the gravity of the situation. No matter how painful it might be, you both knew that you couldn’t ignore the consequences of this.

But despite everything, the love you shared still lingered between you both, raw and real.

And whatever happens next, you’d hold onto that love, even if it wasn’t enough to keep you together.

Jungwon

Jungwon’s gaze was distant, his usually warm eyes hollow with an unspoken pain that neither of you could ignore. He stood in front of you, his hands clenched at his sides, the weight of the world bearing down on him. He hadn’t said a word for what felt like an eternity, but you could already feel it—the thick tension in the air, the heaviness of a decision that was about to tear both of you apart.

“Jungwon…” your voice trembled, a whisper that barely carried over the noise in your mind. You were afraid of what he was about to say, but you knew deep down that this moment had been coming. You couldn’t ignore the silence between you two anymore.

He finally turned to face you, his jaw tight, his expression unreadable. “I don’t want this to happen,” he said quietly, the words almost strangled as they left his lips. “But the company… they’re not giving me a choice. I’m not allowed to be with you. They’re saying I have to let you go.” His voice cracked slightly, but he forced himself to keep his composure.

You froze, unable to speak for a moment. The realization hit you like a punch to the gut. The person you loved—the person who had become your everything—was being ripped away from you by forces you couldn’t control.

“You—” you tried to speak, but your voice faltered as the tears welled up. “Jungwon, you don’t have to do this. We can fight it. I—I love you. I’m not asking you to choose the company over me, but I can’t just—”

He shook his head, cutting you off gently but firmly. “You don’t understand. I love you too. More than you could ever know. But I can’t risk everything for us. You deserve better than this chaos. I can’t let you be dragged down by me. The hate… it’s too much. The company’s making it clear that if we don’t end this now, it’ll destroy both of us. I don’t want to see you hurt because of me.”

The tears that you had been fighting back now slid down your cheeks, and you stepped forward, desperate to close the distance between you. “I don’t care about the hate, Jungwon. I don’t care about the company. I just care about you.”

His heart clenched at the sight of your tears, but he couldn’t let himself fall apart in front of you. Not now. He had to be strong. “This isn’t something I want, but it’s something I have to do. For both of us.”

You reached for him, your fingers brushing his, but he pulled away, as if the physical contact would unravel him completely. The space between you felt like an ocean now, impossible to cross.

His eyes flickered with a pain that matched yours, but he held it in. He could see the hurt in your eyes—the same hurt that reflected in his own soul. But he couldn’t be the one to keep you in this situation any longer. He couldn’t stand to see you suffer because of his love.

“I’m sorry,” Jungwon whispered, his voice breaking despite his best efforts. “This is the only way.”

You looked up at him, your voice barely a whisper, but it was firm, unwavering despite the tears. “Okay.” Your eyes that were just looking at him with so much pure love, go cold without a second thought. And he knows that it’s just you coping in the only way you know how—to pretend that you don’t care and that you’ll be alright until the thought becomes a reality.

Jungwon’s breath hitched, but he couldn’t respond. He simply turned and walked away, each step dragging him further from you. And the moment he was out of sight, the mask that had held his composure cracked.

The door to his dorm clicked shut, and he collapsed onto his bed, his body wracked with silent sobs. The tears he’d been holding in, the anguish he had forced down for so long, finally broke free. He buried his face in his pillow, muffling his cries, unable to escape the pain of losing you. Of losing everything.

He loved you. He had never been more sure of anything in his life. But love wasn’t enough when the world was determined to tear it apart.

And as much as he hated it, he couldn’t protect you anymore.

Niki

Niki’s phone buzzed again, the screen lighting up with an incoming message. His heart skipped a beat. He already knew what it was. He had been staring at it for what felt like an eternity—his mind racing, his stomach in knots. The company had made it clear. You can’t be together anymore.

He stared at the text from you, the one that had come through a while ago, asking if everything was okay. His thumb hovered over his phone, but he didn’t know how to respond. He didn’t know how to explain the reality of the situation. The pressure from the company was too much, and the love he felt for you was only making it harder.

We need to talk, he typed out, his fingers trembling slightly. He hesitated before hitting send, the words feeling too heavy.

A moment passed before you replied, I’m scared.

Niki wrote back quickly. We can’t keep doing this.

His heart felt like it had been torn from his chest as he continued to type. He had to make this decision, even though it was the hardest thing he’d ever done. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore. It’s too much for both of us.

He pressed send, staring at the screen, barely breathing. The silence between the two of you had never been so deafening. He didn’t know what he expected from you, but his stomach churned as he waited for your reply. This was the end, but the finality of it was more suffocating than he could have imagined.

Your reply came quickly.

What do you mean?

He ran a hand through his hair, feeling a mixture of guilt, regret, and sadness. His eyes burned with the effort of holding back tears. I love you. I really do. But this is too much for me right now. I can’t keep pretending like everything is okay when it’s not. I don’t want to hurt you, but I can’t give you what you deserve either.

He couldn’t even look at the screen. He could feel your pain through every word. This wasn’t how he wanted it to end. But his career, everything he had worked for, the constant demands—it was overwhelming, and he didn’t know how to make it work anymore.

I just want you to be okay, he typed. I can’t give you what you need. I can’t keep pretending.

Another long pause. Niki sat with his phone, his hands shaking, staring at the screen.

Then came your reply.

You can’t just walk away from this, Niki. This is real for me. Don’t you get it? Your words hit him like a punch to the gut. He wanted to scream, to tell you how much he wished he didn’t have to make this choice. But the reality of the situation felt like a trap he couldn’t escape.

I’m sorry, he typed, his throat tight. I don’t want to do this, but I don’t know how to make it work anymore. This is the only way I can protect you… protect us.

He paused, staring at the words, wishing he could take them back. But it was too late. The damage had been done.

Your last message came through. If you really loved me, you wouldn’t do this. Not like this.

His heart shattered at the finality of your words. He couldn’t take it back. He didn’t want to let you go, but in that moment, he thought it was the only way to make sure neither of you would get hurt further.

With shaking hands, he typed his final message.

Goodbye.

And just like that, he hit send. The weight of his decision crashed over him, and he let the tears fall. He lay back on his bed, the silence of the room closing in on him. He wanted to pick up his phone, to beg you to forgive him, to say he was sorry. But he knew there was nothing left to say.

The love he had for you was real. But the world they lived in—this life—made it impossible for him to keep you in it.

He had just let you go, and it felt like the worst thing he’d ever done.

[bullet-prooflove]

Exorcism: Michael "Robby" Robinavitch x Reader (NSFW)

Tagging: @kmc1989 @dizzybee03 @cosmic-psychickitty @puredicks @queenslandlover-93

Companion piece to:

Lipstick (NSFW) - It's love at first blow job for Dr Robby.

Crisis - Robby has a bad day.

ASMR For The Soul - Robby doesn't sleep when you're not around.

Bunny - Robby discovers you've been keeping secrets.

Something To Complain About (NSFW) - You ignite the ire of Robby's neighbour with your bedroom noises.

Noise Cancelling - Robby discovers his neighbour keeps a spreadsheet of your antics.

Poolside - When Robby's had a really shitty day he always ends up whereever you are.

The Betting Pool - Robby discovers that his collegues have been taking bets on his relationship.

Fifty Shades of Robby - Robby's collegues see the truth of his relationship when they find your Instagram.

Dumb Bitch - Robby exhibits his protective side when another man steps on his territory.

Stop Compressions, Start Compressions - Robby loses everything in the aftermath of Pittfest.

24 Hours - Robby refuses to leave your side in the aftermath of the shooting.

Saftey Rail - Abbot gets real with Robby when he finds him on the roof.

Baby, It's Gonna Be Alright - Robby wonders if he's fucked things up with you for good.

“You want self-flagellation, running on the beach is definitely the way to do it.” That’s what you say to Robby after he admits he’s punishing himself for losing the baby. He isn’t convinced but then he pulls on his sneakers to join you at the ass crack of dawn, fuck does it feel like just the right kind of atonement.

His calves burn with the exertion, the sand sucking him in, forcing him to push himself, to work harder. His heart slams against his ribcage as the sweat coats his entire body making his vest top cling to his form. His chest feels like it’s on fire, every breath a sharp rasp but still he forces himself on because he likes the physicality of his emotional pain, the fact he’s exorcising his demons with endorphins.

The both of you are a mess by the time you get back to the beach house. He gestures for you to take the shower first but you pull him inside the bathroom with you, your fingers threading through his hair as you kiss him.

Robby’s self-control snaps because it’s the first time you’ve been intimate since what happened and he needs you to understand just how much he still wants you.

He finds himself fucking you under the heated stream, the water cascading down his body as his hips pump hard and fast, chasing your climax with a tenacity that’s borderline pathological. It gets a little rough, his fingers bruising your skin, your nails sinking into his back as the rapture takes you, causing you to grip his dick so hard he loses all sense of self. The pleasure and the pain mingle and that agony, it’s fucking beautiful. It spurs on his own release and he buries himself inside you, spilling his load deep.

“I thought you hated me.” He mumbles into the curve of your throat as he holds you place, keeping you close because he’s not ready to pull out just yet. “That you blamed me for not saving our baby.”

“No.” You whisper, your breath ghosting in his ear as your fingers comb through his damp hair. “I thought it was my fault for losing them.”

“Fuck no.” He tells you, his forehead coming to rest upon yours. “There wasn’t anything you could have done, there’s nothing I could have done…”

Oh, he realises, there really was nothing he could have done. Something so delicate, so precious could never have withstood a bullet of that calibre, it’s a testament to a God Robby’s not sure he believes in that you even did.

“It’s not our fault.” He whispers, his thumb ghosting over the apple of your cheek as he looks into your eyes. “It really isn’t.”

“No.” You whisper back, feeling that relief for the first time. “No it’s not.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[lady-ashfade]

Abed

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ team green x hateful reader (slight Aegon x reader)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ dabble.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: reader hates cole so bad, uncanon events, targ-cest, had a thought for days and made it, team green defenders don’t come after me- because I’m not on their side doesn’t mean I am a bad person, or hate you. I understand you💜🫵

“I was abed, your Grace.”

Spinning your finger around the cup as Aegon questioned the man you hated for years and his response made a laugh rumble from your throat. Silent sweeps the room and all eyes turn to you while it goes unnoticed by yourself from the thoughts in your head. Mourning wasn’t a word to describe what you felt, anger and madness perhaps are the best words to use.

Aegon stepped back and glanced curiously at you while caught in a daze, “Sister?” his calling is enough to snap out of it. As his eyes found yours it was clear the single thread behind his eyes began to snap, “Care to share what is a jest to you at a moment like this?” all watch as he walks across the table.

“While my son is dead?” he stopped before you.

Alicent knew the hatred for Cole runs throughout your blood. Ever since you were a child you refused to listen to him, mocked him, even tried to stab him in training. Some of that hate was also for her as well but you loved her enough. Though, the way you looked at both of them with a sly smirk of what you had witnessed a few weeks before put it through doubt.

“I am just tickled, by the person who is really at fault her brother. Aegon you of course took the knights and some men to entertain last night, but I am sure there were more when I left helaens room last night?” fulling playing with them as you lean back in the chair, “If I recall our mothers hall happened to have all guards dismissed last night.”

Alicent looked frightened and wanted to beg you to keep silent as the men look at her, Cole by her side in disbelief. “Ser Criston Cole said he was abed,” looking into the dark haired mans eyes, you feel a power wash over you unlike anything you have felt. “But he did not say where.”

Aegon looked at the man who helped raise him and his jaw tighten, “tell the truth,” taking a deep breath before slamming his hands down onto the table, “Now.” He shouted and made all except you flinch.

“Forgive me, but the princess has no idea what-” pushing the chair out from beneath your legs in a haste movement and grabbing hold of the handle of your sword.

“He was bedding our mother,” the looks of shock are louder then words could say. leaning closer to your older brother, “he left his post at your child’s bed. But clearly what’s in between our mothers legs is more important.”

“That is enough,” Alicent raised up and looked at both of you in tearful eyes, “I am to blame. Punish me, we meant non of this to happen.”

“Is it true.”aegons head starts to shake, his eyes darkening.

One simple nod and cry from his mother and that’s all he needed and rushed forward to cole and start to shout and punch him. Of course cole is more skilled and managed to slip away. And as much as you enjoy some action be taking against him, you had to stop it.

“Strip him of his power, his armor but don’t kill him,” Aegon alway had a soft spot for you because you understood him, played along to his ways. “Let me handle him, and let our mother go unharmed.” Raising a hand to his cheek you stroke the skin, he was so easy to manipulate.

“He is yours, sister. Punish him however you see fit.”

I really hate coke so much. Like if i could just skip to his death i would, i couldn’t care about anything else. Idk if you are mad at that, he just pisses me off.

[0scxmlqrd]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 hardest to love.

in which you realize how hard to love a person who doesn't even love themselves.

pairing: player 125 | min-su x f! reader

warning: angst

author's note: not a big fan of this dude, but decided to write one for him since i thought of a scenario for him first before the others.

ONE thing you've come into a realization after all these years you've been with him is that it's hard to love Park Min-su.

He's a coward.

You knew he had feelings for you— and so did you. That's why you kept waiting. Waiting for the coward Park Min-su to have the courage to confess for you—his one and only best friend.

That's the reason why you followed him to play this bloodbath game. Promising yourself that if he doesn't confess—you will.

Yet, he never did. Even until you take your last breath.

"Ha! You... you seriously chose them over me...?!"

You screamed whilst banging the door with all your strength, frightening the boy who's eyes remained glued on the floor, trembling. You ignored the pain coming from your hands, your full attention focused on the face of the boy behind the door keeping you away from each other.

You bit your lips enough in frustration that it drew blood in them. Tears flowing down your cheeks from the thoughts running through your head, making your knees go weak.

You began to break down.

This is it, your end.

You leaned your forehead on the door, sobbing.

You failed to see his hands twitches from the sound. It was as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he can't. He's a coward, remember?

You were too busy on your thought to notice anything else. Not entirely confused as to how come even after knowing you're going to die, you felt glad that he chose those two scumbags after you and survive the round, you were glad he's manage to survive up until now despite his cowardly actions.

You can hear the people around you screaming and as you started to hear the loud guns shooting down other players like you who didn't get to enter the doors on time. Soon, you'd end up just like them.

You cried, silently.

Then, you looked at him one last time, "Min-su, look at me, please..."

He didn't.

You cursed him silently to yourself before speaking once again to the person who couldn't spare you a single glance, "You coward, can't even face the person you betrayed, huh? F*ck! Don't worry, I won't hurt you or anything—it's not like I can. Just... look at me, please!"

Still, he refused.

You suppressed yourself from screaming at him, slightly banging you head on the door as you said, "I don't blame you for choosing them though, so don't blame yourself."

You paused for a second, contemplating before you sighed and continued, "I'm so glad you're okay. I care for you way too much, don't I? Honestly, I don't even care anymore, I do what I want to do."

"I never got to tell you, but... you're the reason why I joined this game."

Suddenly, his eyes met with yours.

You can see tears threatening to fall down on his cheeks. You wish you could reach out to them and wipe those tears off while you hug him—just like how you'd always do with him before everything.

"So, you knew, huh? Stop crying, idiot. I'm not trying to make you feel guilty—even though I know you are right now. But I have my own faults too, you know. I should've never allowed you to enter this game, now look how we ended up..."

You hear him whisper under his breath, "I'm sorry..."

Your breath hitched, more tears building up from your eyes, "Stop apologizing, idiot. You're making me want to cry more."

He took a step forward, catching you by surprise as he leaned his forehead on the door with his eyes clenched tightly as he began to fight himself from crying much more. Still, he remained silent.

You could see regret in those gentle eyes of his, one of the features he has that you love. You wished you had more time to admire them. But then you felt it, someone aiming their gun at you.

By then, you realized one thing. It's hard to love someone who doesn't even love themselves. It's hard to love Park Min-su. But still, you managed to do it.

And with the last energy you could muster to yourself, you whispered enough for him to hear, "I never got the right time to tell you I love you, didn't I?"

And when his eyes connected so closely to yours once again, a loud bang followed.

©0SCXMLQRD

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

𝗪𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗬𝗼𝘂 𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗕𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗨𝗽 𝗮𝗻 𝗜𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗰𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝘆 | 𝗛𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗣𝘁𝟐

Warnings: None

Hyung Line x Reader. Angst.

ılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılıılııl

ᗷᗩᑎGᑕᕼᗩᑎ

Days had passed, and the tension between you and Chan grew unbearable.

You had tried contacting him, but he’d buried himself in his work, refusing to answer your calls or texts, and every attempt to approach him in person was met with cold indifference.

It was as if he had sealed himself off from you completely, and the guilt gnawed at your insides like a festering wound.

It wasn’t until one late evening, when you found yourself standing outside the studio again, that you realized something had to give. You couldn’t let things end like this - not over a misunderstanding, not when you cared about him so much.

When you loved him so much.

Pushing open the door, you saw him sitting at the same desk, headphones on, eyes glued to his laptop screen. The music played softly in the background, but the atmosphere was anything but peaceful.

You cleared your throat, and when he didn’t react, you took a deep breath and spoke.

"Chan, please. We need to talk."

For a moment, you thought he was going to ignore you again, but then he pulled off his headphones and glanced over his shoulder. His eyes were tired, and there were dark circles beneath them, evidence of sleepless nights.

"There’s nothing to talk about," he muttered, turning back to his screen.

“Please,” you said, your voice pleading. "Please."

He tensed, when he heard the hurt in your voice, and then sighed, pushing the chair back but not looking at you, his shoulders tense. He turned to you, his brown eyes tired and sad.

"I’m sorry," you began, your voice barely above a whisper. Afraid if you spoke any louder it might shatter.

“I didn’t realize how much you were carrying, and my words...I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t see everything you do. Because I do, baby. I see and appreciate everything."

He flinched at your words, but remained silent, his gaze fixed on the floor. You sniffed and wiped the tears you had so miserably failed to keep in. You missed him. Even if only for a few days it felt like eons.

“I know you’re the leader, and I know you have the weight of so much responsibility on your shoulders,” you continued, wiping your eyes, as more tears fell. “But you don’t have to do it all alone. You don’t always have to be strong. I can be strong for you too if you just ask.”

You hiccup, trying to control your shaky voice. "I want you to ask I don't want you to hurt anymore. Please...you can ask for help too. You don't always have to take everything on yourself. I only said what I said because I wanted to convey how upset I was seeing you tire yourself out, Chan-I...I don't want you to be tired anymore."

You were furiously wiping at your face, feeling like a child not able to properly convey their emotions.

“You don’t have to carry that burden by yourself. You’re not alone in this. The members, your fans, me...we’re all here for you. Please just ask us. We'll do anything for you.”

Chan's hands fidgeted in his lap. You felt the urge to run into his arms- you selfishly wanted to have him comfort you. When he was the one who needed comfort in this moment.

"I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sorry. I'm sorry-" You weep. "I miss you, Channie...so much...I don't want you to be mad at me anymore. I'm sorry. I really am..."

For the first time in days, his eyes met yours, and the raw emotion swirling within them took your breath away.

“I’m scared,” he admitted, his voice cracking, muffled by the sleeve of his sweater, which his face was buried in. “I’m scared that if I stop, everything will fall apart. That if I’m not there, something will go wrong, and it’ll be my fault. And that if I ask for help and things go wrong; you'll be to blame when you've done nothing wrong.” His voice was low and sad, and you could tell by the tightness of it he was trying to hold back tears as well.

Your heart ached as you listened to his confession, realizing just how much he had been hiding behind his calm exterior. How he took on stress to make sure any possible stressors wouldn't arise for those he loved and cared for.

"Oh, baby..."

He closed his eyes, his body trembling as the weight of his fears and insecurities finally crashed down around him.

He then looked up at your eyes that mirrored his own.

It seemed like the sadness in yours took his breath away too. Seemed like it shattered all the resolve he had left as he stood up and you launched himself into your arms, pulling him so close that your bodies would have melded together if possible.

You hiccupped out more sobs as you clung to him.

For a moment- a split second he wanted to remain angry, and he resisted -but then he collapsed against you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he buried his face in your shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, his voice muffled against your shirt. His tears wetting it. “I didn’t mean to push you away. I never mean to do that baby, I'm sorry.”

You held him tighter, tears slipping down your cheeks as you whispered, “It’s okay. I promise.”

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, holding each other in the dimly lit studio as the walls between you slowly crumbled. And in that moment, you knew that no matter how heavy the weight on his shoulders was, you would always be there to help him carry it.

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ᗰIᑎᕼO

The next morning, the air between you and Minho was still thick with tension. You had barely slept, and when you shuffled into the kitchen, you found him already there, making coffee in silence. He didn’t even look up when you entered the room.

You stood there for a moment, unsure of what to say. The weight of last night’s conversation hung between you like an invisible barrier, and every second that passed without him acknowledging you made the distance feel even greater.

He slid over a cup of coffee to you without as much as looking at you, and as you held the warm drink in your hands they began to tremble.

"Minho..." you began, your voice hesitant, unsure how to approach him. “Can we talk?” Your fingers tapped against the cup nervously.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he took a slow sip of his coffee, his throat working, and eyes fixed on the countertop. For a moment, you wondered if he would ignore you altogether, but then, without turning, he spoke.

“What exactly do you want to talk about?” His voice was flat, and that cold edge you feared had settled firmly in place.

You bit your lip, nervousness and guilt warring inside you. “What I said last night...it came out wrong. I didn’t mean-”

“You think I’m cold,” he interrupted, finally turning to face you. His expression was unreadable, but the hurt in the brown eyes you loved so much was impossible to miss. “It’s fine. I get it. I’ve heard it before. Its nothing to take to heart.”

You shook your head, stepping closer to him. “No, you don’t get it. I don’t think you’re cold. I know you’re not.” Your fingers gripped the cup to the point your hands were hot, and you set the cup down so you wouldn't drop it.

Minho bit his lip now. “Really? Because that’s not what it sounded like last night.”

You took another step toward him, your heart aching at how distant he felt, even when you were standing right in front of him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I shouldn’t have said that. I didn't mean it al all.”

He looked away, his jaw tightening as he leaned back against the counter. “It’s not about what you said,” he muttered, his voice low as he looked at his coffee. “It’s about the fact that...maybe you’re right. Maybe that’s all people see when they look at me. Thats all they ever say so when you said it- the person I love most in this world...it made it feel...true.”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. You could hear the vulnerability in his voice - the fear of being misunderstood, of being seen as something he wasn’t. Because he truly wasn't.

And suddenly, you understood how deeply your careless words had cut him.

You reached out, gently placing your hand on his arm. This time, he didn’t pull away, but his gaze remained fixed on the floor. He set his coffee down as you searched for words to say.

“Love, look at me,” you said softly, your voice trembling. Slowly, his eyes lifted to meet yours, and you could see the storm of emotions swirling beneath the surface. Something sparking when he saw the shine in yours.

“You’re not cold,” you said firmly, holding his gaze. “You're - not cold at all." You swallowed the knot trying to form. "You’re kind. You’re thoughtful. You care about the people around you more than anyone realizes. And maybe you don’t always show it in the way people expect, but that doesn’t mean it’s not there. I see it. All the time.” The knot was relentless and made a home there, your voice breaking slightly.

He stared at you, his expression unreadable, and for a moment, you weren’t sure if your words were getting through. But then, slowly, his shoulders slumped, and the tension seemed to drain out of him. He allowed you to hold his hands.

“It’s just...hard sometimes,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to be any other way. I'm not cold I just...aren't feelings a precious thing? I don't know how to not be the way I am. It feels normal to be 'serious' and 'cold' like people say. I don't feel that way. I feel loved and loving. I just don't show it off in...big ways...” He swallowed. "Maybe that makes me mean and cold."

Your heart broke at his confession. You had always known Minho to be one who kept his emotions in check, one who always seemed to have everything under control. But now, standing in front of you, he seemed so vulnerable, so...human. Which you had always seen him as.

“You’re not mean or cold,” you said, your voice thick with emotion. You pursed your lips to keep yourself from crying, but it didn't work. “You’re human. It's okay to have different ways of showing emotions and letting people in. I'm sorry I made you feel that way.”

He looked at you, his eyes softening as the walls he’d built around himself began to crumble. “I forgive you, lovely. I was just being petty...I’m sorry I shut you out,” he murmured, his hand reaching up to gently touch your cheek. “I just...didn’t know how to deal with it. I don't want you to ever see me that way.”

You pouted, you bottom lip jutting out as you cried silently, your brows furrowed to try to stop yourself mid cry.

For the first time since last night, a small, genuine smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Minho chuckled quietly. He moved his thumb to your lip and looked at you.

"It's going to get stuck that way, Darling." He kissed them and then pulled you into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around you as he rested his chin on top of your head, rubbing circles on your back gently as you sniffled into his chest.

“It's okay my love,” he promised softly. “I’m sorry I scared you by ignoring you.” He said guessing the exact reason why you were crying. "Shh, it's okay. It's all going to be okay..." He cooed softly as he rocked you back in forth. "I love you. So much. I love you." He placed a soft kiss on your head, and you buried into him further earning a laugh.

In that moment, everything felt right again. The weight of the misunderstanding lifted, leaving only the warmth of his embrace and the quiet understanding that, no matter how sharp his edges, you would always find a way to soften them.

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ᑕᕼᗩᑎGᗷIᑎ

The next morning, the apartment was eerily quiet. Changbin hadn’t come out of the bedroom since last night, and you had spent the night tossing and turning on the couch, unable to shake the guilt that weighed heavily on your chest.

You knew you had hurt him, but what made it worse was that you hadn’t even realized how deep his insecurities ran. Changbin was always so strong, so confident - but now, you saw the cracks in the armor he wore every day. And it hurt you that you had hurt him.

You took a deep breath, gathering your courage before walking to the bedroom door. You knocked softly, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Changbin?” you called out quietly. “Can I come in?”

There was a long pause before you heard him say, “Come in.”

When you opened the door, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched, his head bowed. He didn’t look up when you entered, and the sight of him like that broke your heart all over again.

You sat down beside him the bed dipping, close but not touching, waiting for him to speak first since it seemed all the words left your mind.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally broke the silence. “I’m sorry for last night,” he said quietly, his voice filled with exhaustion. “I overreacted.” His voice was sad and quiet and you felt the power of the initial guilt amplify tenfold.

You shook your head, the tears threatening to spill making it hard to speak. “No, I’m the one who should apologize. I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t enough. That’s the last thing I would ever want to do, Binnie, please believe me.”

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, still not looking at you. “It’s not your fault. I just...I’ve always felt like I have to prove myself, and becoming an idol made that even harder, you know? Like I have to be the best since everyone is watching now. And when you said that...it just hit me in the worst way. Because it's you.”

You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “You’ve always been hard on yourself.”

Changbin let out a bitter laugh. “Yeah, maybe too hard. But I don’t know how to be any other way. I feel like if I stop, if I’m not constantly pushing myself, then...I’ll lose everything. I tried so hard to get.” His eyes met yours.

Your chest tightened at his words. You knew how much he put into his work, how much he cared about being successful, not just for himself, but for everyone around him. But hearing him say it out loud, hearing the fear and vulnerability in his voice - it was almost too much to bear.

“You won’t lose anything, let alone me.” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand. You had noticed the look in his eyes and wanted him to be assured that you would never leave him. “You’re already so much more than enough, baby. You’re talented, hardworking, and you care so much about everyone around you. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone. Especially not me. Or the guys. Or your family. We all see how much you put in everything.”

He finally looked up at you, his eyes filled with emotion. “Sometimes, it feels like no matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. And when you said what you did...it felt like you were confirming it. And you're the...last person I would want to hear the from.” His adam's apple bobbed up and down as he put his forearm to his eyes. "Damn, I didn't want to cry." He mumbled. "Give me a second."

You squeezed his hand and waited for him to collect himself. Once he did you spoke, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’m so sorry I made you feel like that. I never wanted to hurt you. You mean so much to me, and I think you’re incredible just the way you are. More than I deserve, BinBin. Truly.”

Changbin’s expression softened, the tension in his shoulders slowly easing. “I know you didn’t mean it. I was just...in my head. It’s something I’ve been struggling with for a while.”

He let out a long breath, the weight of his insecurities finally surfacing. “I just don’t want to disappoint anyone. Especially you.”

Your heart ached at his words, and you gently cupped his face in your hands, forcing him to meet your gaze. “You could never disappoint me, Changbin. I love you for who you are, not for how hard you work or how much you achieve. You’re enough, just as you are.” You look into his eyes. "You may not be perfect, but everything about you is perfect to me."

His eyes shined, and for a moment, he looked like he was about to break. But instead, he pulled you into a tight embrace, burying his face in your shoulder. You held him close, feeling his body relax against yours as the tension finally melted away.

“I’m sorry I shut you out,” he whispered against your neck. “I just didn’t know how to handle it.” His lips brushed against it softly and you felt a warmth wash over you.

You pressed a kiss to his temple just as gently, your heart swelling with love for him. “It’s okay. I'm sorry as well.”

Changbin pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against yours. “I'm going to talk to you more about this stuff. I don’t want to keep shutting you out.” He kissed you again, but this time on your lips, and you felt a wetness.

You smiled softly, brushing away stray tears from his cheeks and lips. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And I mean always baby.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss, as if sealing the promise between you. Then moving into a slow and lazy kisses as he pulled you down onto the bed with him.

You stayed there, cuddled together and kissing until the early afternoon, everything just as perfect as the man beside you.

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ᕼYᑌᑎᒍIᑎ

The hours dragged on painfully after Hyunjin had left you standing in the kitchen. The apartment felt too big, too empty without him, and your mind kept replaying the argument over and over again, picking apart every word you had said, every hurtful implication that had slipped out.

You hadn’t meant to wound him. Whenever you had wounded him, you never did it intentionally. You loved him too much to do that.

You had only wanted to comfort him; to let him know he didn’t have to bear the weight of perfection like he thought he had to. You didn't want him to continue working himself to the bone; making himself tired trying to fit a mold that others wanted to fit him into. But instead, you had used your words to unintentionally cut deeper into the very insecurities he worked so hard to keep hidden.

It was nearing midnight when you finally heard the soft sound of the bedroom door opening. Hyunjin stepped out, his face pale and his eyes red-rimmed from crying. He looked fragile, vulnerable in a way that broke your heart all over again.

“Can we talk?” he asked quietly, his voice so small it made your chest tighten with guilt.

You nodded quickly, standing up from the couch. “Of course. Of course.”

He walked over to you, sitting down on the couch beside you, though there was still a noticeable space between you. Hyunjin seemed hesitant, his fingers nervously playing with the hem of his oversized sweater. He then laid his head into your lap. You hesitantly threaded your fingers through his hair, until he leaned into your touch, letting you do it freely. The silence was thick, heavy with unspoken words and raw emotions.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” he began, his voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to lash out at you. I was...I was scared.”

You blinked, surprised by his confession, your hand pausing. “Scared? Of what?”

Hyunjin swallowed hard, his eyes half lidded as he spoke. “Scared that you see me the same way I see myself. Flawed. Not good enough. I’ve always had this fear...this feeling like I’ll never be able to live up to the version of me that people expect. And when you said what you did, I thought...I thought it was proof that even you felt that way. And I don't want you to feel like that about me. At all.” He whined quietly.

Tears welled up in your eyes again as you listened to him. You had known Hyunjin struggled with self-doubt- struggled with the fact that people only saw him as a pretty face- a perfect face, but hearing him lay it all out like this, so raw and vulnerable, made your heart ache for him.

“I would never think that,” you said softly, reaching out to take his hand with your free one. “You’re everything to me, Hyunjin. And I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t enough, or your weren't fitting the mold others want you to fit. I only said what I did because I hate seeing you push yourself so hard. I want you to be happy. I don't want you to see yourself as flawed. We all are- but how is that any different. I love you. I don't want you to be perfect- I want you to be you.”

He looked up at you then, his eyes filled with so much pain that it made your breath catch in your throat. “But what if I’m not good enough as me?”

Your heart broke at the vulnerability in his voice, and you squeezed his hand tighter, shaking your head, swallowing. “You are more than good enough, Hyunjin. You are so talented, so kind, and you work harder than anyone I’ve ever known. You don’t have to be perfect. Again, I love you for who you are, not who you think you should be.”

Hyunjin’s lower lip trembled, and for a moment, it looked like he might start crying again. But instead, he sat up, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His grip was tight, almost desperate, as if he was holding onto you for dear life.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against your skin. “I’m so sorry for pushing you away.”

You held him just as tightly, your own tears falling freely now. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here. You don't have to apologize Jinnie...”

For a long time, the two of you sat there in each other’s arms, the weight of the argument finally starting to lift. Hyunjin’s breathing eventually steadied, and you could feel the tension slowly draining from his body as he relaxed into your embrace.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes were still red, but there was a softness in them now, a peace that you hadn’t seen in a long time.

“I’ll try to be better,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ll try not to let my insecurities get the best of me.”

You smiled at him, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “I'll try to be better with my words as well. We’ll work through our issues together. You don’t have to do this alone.” You touched his cheek and smiled.

Hyunjin nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He kissed you gently. When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with so much sincerity that it made your heart swell.

“I love you too,” you whispered back, your hands gently cupping his face. “More than anything.”

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[anxi04]

Tim admits this was… definitely a bad idea. But in his defense he could not be blamed for anything he decides after an intense case. He stayed up for a consecutive 74 hours and then crashed for 2 days straight so… really it's Kon's fault for taking the suggestion seriously.

Tim and Kon are at Olive Garden on a small date, nothing too serious. However like the fool Tim is he's disguised so he doesn't get recognized as 'Timothy Jackson Drake' or 'Tim Wayne' and since he's still very out of it at the moment he's not really putting much of a mask on so the confidence is gone, and he's still so tired so the comprehension is a little… off right now.

He forgot about the dreaded 'how much Parmesan do you want' question for dishes and after a minute it just got too awkward to say anything. So here they are, Tim dying inside while the waiter (who's definitely a meta cause where the hell is all that cheese coming from?) grates the 5th block of Parmesan. Kon is laughing the traitor that he is and at this point it's also a little bit of a challenge on his and the waiters end.

"Is this good enough for your exquisite tastes?" The waiter, Lora (god they are getting a minimum of a 500$ tip), asks him very pointedly while looking directly in his eyes and aggressively grating.

Tim can feel an angel and demon on his shoulder. 'More! A mountain of cheese! All the cheese in the restaurant!' is what his angel is saying. The demon is… cruel in the way they want cheese.

God maybe Tim should've stayed asleep. He stares the waiter in the eyes (uncomfortable but he's had to look Becca directly in her beady eyes and tell her that her ex-husband was wrong for leaving. Tim gave said husband the courage to leave. This is nothing.) and makes a 'go on' gesture.

Tim blinks and suddenly three feet have been added to the height of the cheese mountain and holy shit. Using powers for the most petty reason is 100% what he would do. He respects Lora so much right now.

"Tim.. Hon… You're lactose intolerant that is way more than enough." Once Kon was able to get his breath back he tries putting an end to this madness but Tim is committed. So is Lora, if the way her eyes dart over to Kon in a challenge is any indication.

"No. Lactose intolerance is a weakness and I will train it out." Why is he not backing out oh god what the fuck is he thinking.

"Oh, would you like more help with that? We have some more… brutal cheeses for lactose intolerance. I can grab some mozzarella, or brie, or any other soft cheeses." Oh my god. Tim's gonna die here. He's gonna die cause he's too stubborn. Although he respects the hell out of Lora right now. He's entertaining the idea of her becoming a hero. Or villain. Either would fit.

Anyway. That sounds like a challenge, and Tim doesn't back down from challenges like that. "That would be wonderful, thank you." Eye contact has not been broken. Janet would be proud of him.

Eventually there is a 10 foot tall mountain of cheese on his plate and a ladder next to the table. And now he'd feel like a dick if he doesn't eat it all but also holy fuck he is severely lactose intolerant.

Kon's head is making a dent in the table. Tim will fully understand if Kon needs a break after this.

He can see Lora blatantly staring him down from across the restaurant and well that's just another fucking challenge.

Slowly, (but not too slowly, no that would be showing weakness) he finishes the plate. And honestly he completely forgot what he had originally ordered until he got to the bottom of it and by then it was just such a cheesy mess he can't even tell if it was supposed to be spaghetti or some version of American Alfredo. He eats it anyway.

Lora comes over soon after, fake smile barely hiding fury, and asks if he wants seconds. It's a challenge and Tim doesn't refuse challenges… but Tim is also not dumb and so he declines. He swears he sees disappointment in her eyes.

She lets him pay the bill and tip her (looking at him slightly when he gives her a thousand dollars, which causes him to put down another thousand in her hand) and soon after they're set to leave.

Tim does however hear her say something about using the money to put little rockets on a skateboard instead of something useless like rent and honestly? Tim might have found his best civilian (for now) friend.

They leave Olive Garden 2,043$ less rich (not really) and Tim with a new contact and a promise to personally build her a skateboard that easily reaches 90 mph.

He's praying no one recognized him and he won't wake up to the news calling him out. He could never live it down.

(He was in fact recognized, but by one of the Bat-Clan and when he opens his bedroom there is an absurd amount of cheese everywhere. He blames Jason.)

(It was Damian.)

[sillysiluriforme]

If you’re up for it, could you talk a bit more about Felix in the la terreur au? I saw that comic of Colt shooting him in the head (and not dying bc senti shenanigans), and that makes me want to know more about how he grew up and what else Colt did with him (and what Amelie’s role has been in all of that). Love what you do, thanks! 💙🦚

Oh boy !! I think Felix is one of my favorite characters from canon.

He's extremely competent, right ? He has all these grand plans that he does go through with, unfortunately the plans all have stupid goals. Not only that, but he can't seem to think long term. (confronting Gabe during the same episode he learns he's keeping his aunt's body in the basement, the diamond ball episode, his whole relationship with Kagami...) He has this childish recklessness I find really endearing.

We're pushing all those things a little further in LT !

Felix grows up isolated in a big, big house, he learns quickly that no one that can will help him. Amelie's in the same boat. His grandparents are fully aware of Colt's behavior and refuse to step in. Emilie's oblivious. Gabriel is Gabriel.

So he learns to rely on himself.

Colt is not a good person. He's selfish, and he's jealous, and he's set in his ways, and he's a war profiteer. And now he has a magic baby of dubious origins.

He can't get past the fact Felix is not a normal baby. The first few years go smoothly enough. The baby is fussy but manageable. Something for Amelie to do. Then Colts starts gets sick. It's like a cold initially, but he never gets better.

He tries to raise a real man. Drills and old fashion discipline. His mom whines about it, but it's what he needs. He's "beating the devil out of him." Colt keeps getting worse. Amelie's head is everywhere but here. She's calmer. She's stealing his Codamol, but he doesn't bring it up. Anything to get her to shut up.

He's dying ! He's dying, and he's scared, and he's a profoundly religious man, he's sure this fucking thing he created is siphoning his life forces. That's what he gets for messing with the devil. He blames everyone but himself. He mostly takes it out on Felix. From that point on, it's constant orders. Do this, don't do that, do it this way or that way. He's using that ring like his life depends on it. Does it ?

This thing cannot die. He tries to get rid of it 3 times and no matter what it gets back up.

He's dying, and his mind is going with it. This thing is a monster. His brother-in-law is a monster. His wife is a monster. Everyone is a monster. He's dying and it's their fault.