#which causes a fight and then I cry when I’m so angry

[urinalcakepop]

Living at home with your parents as a 30-something adult is just a different kind of humiliating, especially when said parents still treat you like you’re 15

[milo-is-rambling]

Weight talk tw I guess idk how to describe the post sorry im a little high

It’s so weird being around people who talk about weight problems (IOP) and like idk it brings up weird shit in my brain almost anxiety that I should feel bad about myself somehow like I’m doing this wrong being confident idk. Weird self doubt thing that happens when you’ve loved yourself (hmm. Rephrase. I don’t care about being fat. let’s say that.) and then you’re in a room full of people having a group discussion about how they avoid living their life in happy ways because they don’t want to become like you. But you love yourself. But everyone in your life since you were little has been dieting and talking about weight and specific numbers (someone was anxious about gaining seven pounds! SEVEN. If they saw my scale they would shit themselves. I put on seven pounds taking a big bong rip Jesus fucking Christ seven pounds. I wanted to rip my hair out.)

Next time weight issues come up in IOP I’m stepping out of the room. Like idk how to explain it cause it’s like not a trigger but I guess it is ? But it’s just so weird like the way I’m triggered makes me want to cry why does the world hate me for being fat what the fuck !!!!

[hauntedjellyfishwitch-blog]

Too Far.

Summary: He's like a wounded animal when he's angry, lashing out when he feels cornered. He's gone too far this time, snapped and said something he definitely didn't mean, so now he has to fix it.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader (No use of Y/N)

TW: Fighting. Daryl is a dick, but not really, but also he is. Apologetic!Daryl. Alexandria Era. Sex.

A/N: Inspired by an excellent post by @love-norman which I'll link in the comments. I wasn't sure if you were okay with smut, so there's a fairly brief mention of sex but nothing overly explicit.

-

He’s a surprisingly effective communicator, once she can convince him to talk more and with enough time to work out exactly what ticks and grunts mean what. Daryl Dixon’s entire bag is self-sacrifice, so if he can assume that she needs him to tell her what’s going on in the always too busy head of his, he can do that for her without much care for how it impacts him. It’s not his most healthy coping mechanism but it certainly isn’t his worst and the reward? Oh, the reward is sweet. The reward is comfort and kindness and being held; being loved. What’s a moment of discomfort for a lifetime of her?

He's had to practice letting his walls down, slowly but surely since he met her, all the while failing to realise she was just digging her way underneath them. She didn’t ever pry, not really, not in any way that felt invasive, but she’d patiently wait him out; ask the question quietly, softly, and let him linger in the comfortable silence until he chose to answer back. Sometimes she’d work out the information without his need to speak at all; it happened the moment he realised he was fucked, that he was absolutely, irrefutably hers. She’d worked out exactly who he was as a person and he’d barely sad a word.

He’s attentive, and whilst that shocks him it comes as no surprise to anyone around him. He has spent his life fearing that he is exactly who he feared, but those who are lucky enough to consider themselves, correctly or not, close to Daryl never fear for much but his wellbeing. That he is a careful, thoughtful and tender partner surprises nobody but him. That’s not to say they don’t argue, the end of the world comes with its own set of tensions even without the usual relationship concerns, but he’s learnt not to bite first.

-

He shouldn’t have drunk anything, in hindsight, they’re both in bad shape, overwrought and under-fed and they shouldn’t have been at a fucking party, of all places. He definitely shouldn’t have had the four glasses of scotch Reg offered him on a mostly empty stomach. He can’t get used to the Alexandria walls, the houses he never could have afforded to breathe near let alone buy, the soft comforts he’d never had even before the end of the world. He’s never been to a party that hasn’t had a piss-stained couch or an overly full ashtray.

“You know that’s bullshit, Daryl, you’re being ridiculous!” She yells, firmly back in their own living room after he’d practically stormed out of Deanna’s. One minute they’re in full swing, standing talking about vacations from the old days with some new faces, the next his hand is dropping from around her waist and thudding from the front door like she’d said, ‘fuck off’ rather than the word ‘Canada’. He’d slammed the door behind them and snarled about how he would have embarrassed her and her fancy fucking vacations in ‘the real world’.

“Lil’ miss travel abroad and see th’ world cause she’s better than Daryl fuckin’ Dixon”

“What? That’s not-“

“I’m jus’ an idiot redneck with nothin’ an’ you’re this smart chick who saw the world, I get it, I ain’t dumb, th’ fuck would ya have wanted wit’ me?”

Her heart would shatter for him if she wasn’t seething quite so much, the sheer desperation in his words at odds with the tension in his body, clenched hands dragging through his finally clean hair. His eyes are stinging and he absolutely refuses to cry, has never gotten over thinking it makes him weak even when he feels weak.

“Daryl, what the fuck? Why are you being such an asshole?“

“Shut up, always yappin’ about stupid shit, fuckin’ hate ya sometimes!”

He turns quickly, wants to throw something, wants to scream, broad shoulders and harsh angles and all the wind leaves his body when he sees her flinch away from him. She’s cowers backwards, he feels like he’s going to be sick, body collapsing in on itself as he feels the anger leave his bones, replaced with ice laced panic. For a second, a horrifying second that feels ten times as long, he’s his old man. Shitfaced and angry with a glass in hand and if he had a mirror, he knows exactly whose face he’d see staring back at him.

“I would never hurt ya” he whispers, voice low and so broken, full of conviction as his breath hitches in the middle and crumbles at the end and she’d hug him if she wasn’t so shell shocked. Neither of them move for a beat, standing stock still as he trails his eyes over her, clocks the way her gaze refuses to lift to meet his. He can’t breathe. The room is too small for everything he’s feeling, like the walls are inching close and closer and the air is getting less. He tries to move like lightning but his whole body feels sluggish and slow as he inches past her and out the front door, flinching as it closes behind him and he wanders out into the street. He stares back at the house for a moment before deciding he needs a walk to clear his head.

When he comes back she’s sitting on the couch waiting for him, thumbs twiddling, head still down and worry eating her alive. He eases the door shut behind him, loud enough to tell her he’s home but soft enough to show he’s not mad. He wishes a door could convey remorse but it’s taken him long enough to be able to do it with words he doubts a block of wood would be able to in the timeframe he needs. He shucks off his boots, realising he shouldn’t have been wearing them in the house in the first place.

The fresh air has cooled his body enough that he feels less of the alcohol circulating around his system. He tries not to squeeze the flowers he’d plucked from the bush outside Aaron’s place as he stands with his back against the wood.

“’M sorry” he whispers before clearing his throat and repeating it at a higher volume. She turns her face towards him, looking at him over her shoulder. The anger is gone from her face, replaced with a dwelling worry that spikes at him, makes him replay his words over and over.

“What did I do?”

“Nothin’” he insists quickly, pauses before he realises he should say more, that she sometimes needs him to say more, they’ve talked about this “Ya didn’t, I promise”

“I’m sorry”

That does it, rips him from his safe haven by the door because he can’t stand the thought that she deserved anything he said to her, that she’d said anything wrong when he knows she hadn’t. Talking at a party, about stupid old-world stuff whilst her spare, wine glass free hand kept his back warm. She hadn’t said a damn thing wrong, and he’d scared her.

He strides over to the couch, coming round to kneel in front of her. He places the somewhat squashed flowers on the couch cushion next to her. He hovers a hand above her knee, placing it gently on the fabric of her dress when she doesn’t flinch away at the sight. He doesn’t want her to flinch ever again.

“Dun’ apologise to me when ya ain’t done nothin’ wrong”

“I’m so-“

“Dun’ ever apologise to me when i’s my fault. ‘S my shit an’ I shouldn’t take it out on ya”

She knows he loves her, has proven it time and time again, has put his body in front of hers in the face of almost certain death, would protect her with his last breath, would love her with it. But she knows she’ll never be able to unhear it, that some things you can’t take back, that she’ll always wonder, just a little bit if its true. Logic and love are very rarely intertwined.

“Okay”

He can still hear his fathers words ringing in his head, he knows, more than most, the power that words hold over people. He tries not to say anything he doesn’t mean, and he’ll admit he’s acerbic, pointed sure but never cruel, never unnecessarily unkind. He doesn’t know why tonight was different, but he takes her hands in his, locking his eyes on her so she understands.

“I dun’ get t’ speak t’ ya like that”

“No, you don’t” she agrees, voice firmer, back to her usual tone, the one he’s always loved going hand in hand with the certainty she can hold her own. She pauses, bringing his hands up to press a kiss to his knuckles, soothing because she’s terrified that after all this time, he’s still going to break them by thinking he’s not allowed to claim his hurt “You alright?”

He doesn’t answer, instead sitting back on his feet, raising a small hopeful smile at her.

“Tell me about th’ vacation”

“I don’t-“

“Please. Ya said ya still think ‘bout Canada all th’ time”

He really does want to know, he hadn’t been outside of Georgia before everything went down, and she’s mentioned travel but Canada hadn’t come up; he’s not sure if it was that, that set him off or that he felt inadequate in a room full of people with experiences he never got to have.

“I think it was my favourite trip. Packed a bag and went alone on a whim, found a lake in the forest with a little cabin. Just mountains and trees and lakes. It’s the most peaceful I’ve ever felt. I never wanted to mention it, I know you missed out on so much, but then everyone was talking and I-“

“Nah, go on, ‘S’alright”

“When Reg asked…I was going to say that’s what I picture, when I think of life outside of all of this, me and you in Canada”

“Ya think of that with me?” his voice is low, incredulous awe pulled tight at the edges, he was so busy feeling less than everyone else that he’d missed out on the fact she was thinking of him. She nods, smiling at him, working it out without him needing to say it, figuring out what drove him to snap without asking, under his walls and right in the centre of the internal world he’s built.

“We’d have a house, out near a lake with a wooden porch, and a dog, big scruffy one who likes to catch fish. We’d have coffee together overlooking the water in the morning. You’d work at the local garage, ‘cause you’re good with your hands and tools, wouldn’t have to deal with people all day, fix up all the bikes you’d secretly want...”

He’s staring her at in silence, watching her wistful face glow in the lamplight, he can barely breathe let alone find words knowing that she’s not just dreamt about a life with him, she’s thought it out in detail. He wants it, wants that life with her so badly it aches, thinks it’s the first time he’s wanted anything from life except to get through it.

“I’d work at the bar, play guitar at crappy open mic nights and you’d come for a beer after my shift to walk me home”

He hums, all the response he can manage, guilt chewing at him from the inside, clawing at his mind knowing that he’s taken his own problems out on her, told her he hates her all the while she’s dreaming of something so utterly fucking perfect.

“We’d make dinner together and dance in the living room, go camping at the weekends and make love all night long”

“In another life?” he chuckles, warm and full, knowing he’ll dream about this for the rest of his life.

“In every life…If you’d find me”

“I’d find ya”

-

He runs her a bubble bath, still amazed and confused that he can, that they’ve spent months on the road starving and struggling and here there’s a pantry that has bubble bath. The flowers from Aarons front garden are perched in a glass of water by the bed, the lamps turned off and the doors are locked up as tight as they can be. He’s insistent that he shows his apology, but he’s never had a way to do it outside these walls, nothing beyond words and affection and his experience with what women might like is limited at best.

He stands in the doorway, watching as she wraps herself in a dressing gown. He wonders idly if the amount of love he feels for her could kill him; he feels it so deeply in his bones that he physically isn’t sure it should be able to fit inside of one person. He feels it explode warmth around his body when she shuffles forward to rest her head on his chest.

“You know you don’t have to do all of this? I’m not mad”

Later, when he’s apologised again, reassured her and comforted her and she’s convinced him he’s worth loving in return, he takes them both to bed. Touches her with soft, repentant hands that have always been gentle, hands that are gentle exactly because he knows how dangerous they can be. Atonement seeping from every inch of him as he inches home inside of her, cherishes the contended sigh she lets out at the feel of him. He could never hate her, not even if he tried.

He stills when he bottoms out, rests his forehead against hers as her hips press against his firmly, dragging him as deep as he can go.

“Wha’ ya see in me, anyway?” he whispers against her lips, full of self-doubt.

She looks into him with an intensity that almost hurts, brings her hands to the sides of his face, makes sure he believes her as sincerely as she believes his apology.

“Everything”

[beenbaanbuun]

the fight w/ choi jongho

kind of proof read but also kind of not….

——————————————————————————

as your boyfriend turns to face the counter, expression stern and shoulders tense, you realise that that’s it; you’ve reached the end of your argument. there’s more you want to say, more you feel you should say, but then jongho says, “i’m done talking about this,” in a tone so strict that immediately your mouth snaps shut. you swallow your words but they seem to get stuck in your throat, a painful lump forming in their wake.

you’ve been crying for a while now. the anger from your argument had manifested itself in the form of hot tears that streamed down your cheeks as you stumbled your way through an argument that erupted over something that seems entirely irrelevant now. something to do with the dishes; the cause of it all is foggy, just like your vision as you angrily swipe at your eyes. you want to fight back and have the final word, but the words still refuse to come out.

so you turn around and walk away. if you can’t have the last word, then you need to find some other way to cool yourself down. it makes you feel a little toxic when you pull your car keys from the table but your blood is boiling just enough to make it seem rational for you to leave jongho alone for the night. he hates going to sleep when you’re still mad at each other, you remind yourself, but you hate sitting and stewing in his frustration as you wait for him to finally be ready to talk about it. if he wants to talk about it later, he can wait until you come back tomorrow.

“where are you going?” he yells through the apartment as the keys clink in your hands. you don’t answer, a petty part of your brain wanting to give him the silence that he claimed to want. it doesn’t surprise you when you hear his heavy footsteps thud down the corridor, a shoulder softly brushing past yours as jongho moves to block your exit, “you’re not going anywhere alone at this time of night.”

you shrug, bending down to grab a pair of sneakers which you lift up by their tied laces. your fingers fumble over them as you desperately try to get them undone. it hadn’t occurred to you that your hands were shaking until now; until you desperately needed them not to be. it’s humiliating to stand before the man you love, angry tears washing away your makeup as you fail to do a task so simple that even children can do it. you let out a growl of frustration as a new wave of hot tears fill your waterline, threatening to fall free the moment you decide to blink. they cloud your vision making your task even harder, so you squeeze your eyes closed to rid yourself of them.

you feel them roll dramatically down your face, tickling your skin as they reach your jawline. they drip from your face, toppling onto your fingers and making your impossible task even more impossible. in a fit of annoyance, you toss the shoes to the ground and throw your hands up to your face. the shoes can fucking win, for all you care; what’s one more fight lost?

but then you hear a sigh and the quiet tap, tap, tap of feet and suddenly you’re enveloped in a pair of warm arms. you can practically feel the annoyance flowing from your boyfriend’s body as he moves to pet the back of your skull, but you can also feel him trying to hide it. his movements are soft despite his breathing being heavy, and his hug is just as tight with love as his jaw is with rage. even through his own anger, he’s taking care of you; you can’t help but feel a little guilty at that.

“forget the shoes,” he grumbles, voice still just as stern as it was moments before, “i wouldn’t have let you go anyway.”

“you can’t keep me trapped here,” you sob into his jumper. his grip only tightens.

“i’m not trapping you here, dingus,” his lips are hot as they press a firm kiss to your head, “it’s dark outside and if you can’t get your laces undone then you certainly can’t fucking drive. i’m mad at you but i’m not about to let you put yourself in danger, idiot.”

“fine, then,” you whine, “you drive me to my parents house.”

“is that what you want?” he asks as he settles his cheek against your forehead. it’s warm and soft and it feels so natural rested there. you cant help it when you nuzzle into it, just like he can’t help the fond hum that fights it’s way through the wall of anger to escape his lips. instinct takes over as you subconsciously wind your own arms around his waist, tugging him closer to your shaking form.

and for a moment, everything seems normal.

“well?” he purrs, voice slightly muffled by the way your head squishes his face.

“i don’t know,” it’s not really an answer, but at least it’s honest.

because in truth, you don’t know. the smothering weight of jongho’s anger is almost too much to take sometimes, suffocating you as he takes himself off to somewhere private to stew in it until he’s ready to talk. most of the time it’s okay. you can live with sitting alone in the living room until he’s ready to come crawling to you with his tail between his legs as he searches for affection. when it involves you, though, you really can’t. because then it’s not just his frustration you’re sitting in, but your own too and that’s just all too much. if he doesn’t want to talk it through right now, before your brain had time to find a million reasons to blame yourself, then you’re going to have to step away.

just for tonight, just until the anger is over.

but jongho lets out another heavy breath, a contemplative hum coming immediately after. the hands that still rest heavy on your body seem to tighten, dragging you in unfathomably closer. just by the way he’s touching you, it’s not hard to tell that he hates the fact that you leaving is still on the table.

“what can i do to make you sure?” he purrs, voice softer than you’d heard it all night. it’s almost like he’s talking to a scared dog, trying to soothe it just enough so it doesn’t run. you can’t help but feel every bit like that dog; cornered and scared yet so in need of the slightest bit of love that for a second or two, it considers just giving in. that dog never knows. maybe this time won’t be as bad as the last, after all. maybe it won’t need to run.

“talk,” you reply.

“baby, lat—”

“not later, jongho,” there’s a crack in your voice, warning you that if you push yourself too far the tears will come right back. jongho seems to notice it too; he keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to cause any more anger between the both of you. you suck in a deep breath, “i don’t want to sit in my head for hours until you decide you’re ready, jongho. being left alone in the knowledge that you’re in the next room just completely mad at me makes everything worse.”

there’s a few beats of silence, the only sound filling the room being your sniffles. there’s no more rage-filled breathing from him, no more sobs from you. it’s simply the remnants of what has happened; a few post-cry sniffs that remind you that despite the warmth you feel standing in his arms, none of this is as good as it feels right now.

and yet none of it is as bad as it seemed just moments before…

“i’m still annoyed with you, honey,” it certainly doesn’t feel it by the way he has you completely enveloped in his arms. his stance is so protective, his fingers so soft and his cheek so warm. it’s certainly not the posture of someone who doesn’t want to be around you for a little while. “i can’t talk about it with you until i know for certain that i won’t get angry; i don’t want to say anything i don’t mean.”

weirdly enough, as much as you want to hate it, you understand where he’s coming from. you’re still mad too and as much as you can tell yourself that nothing bad will happen, you know deep down that there’s a good chance it will. you don’t want this to be any worse than it already is, but you know that jongho’s method won’t exactly make things better. you’re at an impasse.

“i just don’t like the sitting and waiting, wondering when you’re going to walk through the door and tell me you’re ready,” you sigh into his chest, “it feels wrong, like i’m waiting on death row for my punishment to finally come.”

“so we don’t go to different rooms, then,” he offers, “we go to the bedroom together and we sit with one another until we’re ready to talk. we don’t even have to acknowledge each other if we’re still that angry, but at least you’ll know i’m there.”

“and you’re sure you’ll want to be with me even when you’re mad?” a hand snakes up your spine to pet gently at your hair.

“i always want to be by your side, honey.”

[orikiys]

✿ ✿ 〞 the aftermath

✰ pairings: ot8!skz x gn!reader

✰ genre: fluff, a bit of angst and romance

✰ warnings: cursing, tears, aftermaths

✰ word count: 2k+ words

part 1

౨₊ৎ chan

it’s been a few days since the fight. and chan hated himself for saying those things which he shouldn’t have. regret was an understatement. even the members were aware of the fight since chan kept overworking and refused to go home out of shame. he promised himself that he would always protect you, and he felt himself collapse every time he remembered the fight.

truthfully, you weren’t much better as well. you missed him, you did. and you wished he would come back home sooner but you couldn’t muster the courage to say that to him. you knew he would be beating himself up for the fight, even though part of it was your fault as well. you agreed with it.

your heart leaped out of your throat when chan stood on the door, holding a bouquet of roses. and although he tried to do his best to smile, it immediately turned into a sob when he saw you.

“i’m so sorry baby. so so sorry,” he hiccuped, and rested his face on your shoulder and closed his eyes in relief, when he felt your familiar arms wrap around his torso and held him close.

“it’s not your fault entirely. it was mine as well,” you hushed out and pressed a kiss on his head, feeling him cry harder at this.

pulling away, he leaned his forehead to yours and let out a weak chuckle.

wiping away your tears he muttered, “god i love you so much.”

you giggle softly and press a kiss on his nose, “i love you more mr bang.”

౨₊ৎ minho

you laid face down on the bed, with hot tears spilling down. it had been two hours since the fight, but yet minho didn’t once dare to apologise. your eyes burned so much that it hurt.

a knock breaks you out of your session. with a hesitant step minho enters the room and feels his heart ache upon your state. gulping the lump forming in his throat he walks closer but gets shoved away when you stand up and push him out of the room out of anger. and he lets you. knowing he deserved it. his eyes show pain but he doesn’t stop you and finally looks down at you in the eye.

“minho you’ve said enough, please leave me alone for some time,” the moment the door slammed in his face, he dropped to his knees and let his tears flow.

“i’m s-sorry. i really am,” he whispered, leaning his head against the door and wiped away the tears but they kept flowing continuously.

“i didn’t mean to i swear,” his voice kept cracking but he tried to continue in hopes you could hear the despair and desperation in his tone.

“i feel horrible for hurting you kitten, i mean it. and even though i tend to appear closed off, i love you so much, i really do,” upon hearing his voice you had to bite your lips to muffle the sob threatening to escape.

sure you were angry at him. but you couldn’t just let him cry his eyes out on that cold floor. about 15 minutes later, with soft steps you opened the door and looked down at him. he was hugging his knees close to his chest, and looked so. . . lonely.

his eyes practically shone upon seeing you, but it disappeared when reality hit him that he was the one who caused this. he raised himself up, and slowly and very hesitantly wrapped his arms around you. he pulled you in his embrace and tucked your head in his chest, letting you cry. letting you release your anger at him.

he would do anything if it means he gets you back. if he can erase the mistake he made.

“i won’t ever let my anger control me. i promise,” he mumbled and you smiled softly. you believed him. his words held sincerity and so did his eyes.

you were just glad to know he would try his best to not let this occur again.

౨₊ৎ changbin

the next few days passed by a blur. you were doing your best at ignoring changbin and hoping he would realise his mistake. which he did all too soon.

“hey,” he greets you with a soft smile but receives silence which makes his smile falter but he tries to stay happy for you.

then he proceeds to tell you about his day but the moment you begin to get up, he can feel those silver tears dripping down.

he clutches the hem of your shirt in your hand, and backhugs you. leaning his forehead on your back he mutters, “don’t punish me like this anymore. i can’t t-take it. i’m very sorry baby. please. i promise to take you on dates weekly now, will that work?” his clutches your shirt tighter and forces you to turn around.

he lets out a soft scoff when he sees the tears on your face as well. cupping your face he mutters, “i’ll plan the dates from now on. you don’t need to. and i’ll reach an hour early if you want,” your chuckle makes him smile as well. with a soft sigh he presses his lips on your forehead making you breathe out in relief. war is over. finally. and you couldn’t be more thankful.

౨₊ৎ hyunjin

every day of his tour, hyunjin video called you for at least 2 hours. and you almost felt guilty for taking up that much time but then he reassured you that nothing’s wrong. wrong turned right. and his sincerity turned stronger if possible. he began showing you his love subtly and more often.

“i really am sorry,” he murmurs, twisting his head a bit to kiss the skin of your arm closest to him. “i hate fighting. didn’t mean to make you upset.”

he sat on the bed with you in his lap and hugged you tightly as if you would disappear if he let you go.

“hyunie, i’m not going anywhere you can let go of me now,” you laughed when you saw him whine and childishly shake his head in denial.

“no. never. do you not love me anymore?” his dramatic tone almost makes you laugh out loud but you decide to play along.

with a soft gasp you mutter, “that’s impossible! i love artist hyunjin so much.”

he blushes upon the nickname and looks at your hands intertwined with his.

raising it in the hair he smiles at the sight, “doesn’t this look like a perfect sight? which means we are perfect for each other.”

tackling you down to bed with hands poking your sides you giggled, and maybe it was just time he needed to take out for you.

౨₊ৎ han

“look what i got!” he yelled out loud, wiggling the plastic bag in his hands as he made his way over to you.

passing him a blank stare, you turn your head and continue watching the drama. you feel him sit beside you. you feel him stare at your face. you feel him shift closer to you till his knees are touching your. you also feel him grab your hand, delicately. you let your eyes wander over your hand and watch him touch your index finger, trace patterns which are out of nowhere and suddenly you’re snapped back by his soft sigh.

“i’m terribly sorry– i’m not asking you to forgive me, not that you would this sooner as i may or may not, no i may have committed the biggest mistake of my life by treating you that way. and i swear it may sound funny to you but i literally panicked when those words left my mouth. i felt like beating the shit out of myself because i still can’t believe that my own mouth could even utter words like that–” his words get cut off when you wrap your arms around his neck, practically choking him but he doesn’t care. a huge grin spreads across his face as he brings you closer to him.

he looks into your eyes as he says the next words, “i promise i’ll be a better version of myself. for you.”

౨₊ৎ felix

you drag yourself into felix and chan’s dorm building and sigh for upteempth time. it felt weird to come here with this unexpected reason. but you had to. you had to apologise to him and mend the things between the two of you before the matters took a toll for the worse. the door opens and there you see hyunjin, still rubbing his eyes. he must’ve probably woken up now, you let your gaze wander behind him, trying to find any hints of lee felix. but there’s none. though you do wonder what hyunjin is doing here. you bite your lip to stop yourself from asking that question and instead focus on felix.

“he’s in the kitchen,” hyunjin rasps out after having seemingly read your thoughts which makes you flush about how you were like an open book to him. walking into the kitchen you find felix whisking the eggs with all his strength and even managing to spill some out.

“lixie,” your voice comes off even weaker than you expected. but felix’s head snaps in your direction and only then do you notice his state. his dishevelled hair, flour stains on his cheeks and dried tears that break your heart. without letting him speak anything you crumble into his arms and hold him tightly.

“i’m sorry! i’m so sorry, my sunshine. i misunderstood you entirely. and i– god i just did the biggest mistake letting you walking like that,” and when you don’t feel his arms wrap around you, you pull back just to see him trying to control his tears. he doesn’t want to appear weak in front of you and that breaks your heart even more.

“it’s okay lixie,” was the last straw before he buried his head in the crook of your head and let himself go. lose all control of his emotions till he doesn’t have anything to hide. and at that moment, you swore you could feel at utter peace.

౨₊ৎ seungmin

you feel the bed dip beside you but you stay still, laying on your side with your eyes closed and pretending to be asleep. he lets out a soft sigh at something you can’t see and you resist the urge to turn around and observe him.

slowly, you feel arms pull you close to his chest and although you try to struggle, it’s of no use. he just hugs you tighter.

“i’m sorry. i really am,” his breath fans your neck as you speak and you try your very best to stay still and forgive him. but that wall cracks the moment you feel something damp against your shoulder.

you turn to look at him as he tries to hide himself but he’s too late. and now he’s afraid whether you’ll forgive him, judge him or throw him out. but he’s surprised when he feels you hug him and whisper it’s okay. his arms automatically wrap around you and he truly feels it. it’s okay.

౨₊ৎ jeongin

your phone keeps vibrating from jeongin’s texts and you try your best to ignore him until you see him walk on the road, looking like a lost kid searching for his mother. his eyes are red and puffy from crying and his throat probably aches too from asking random people about you.

you frown at the side and for some reason you can feel your heart ache. why? you’re not sure why. weren’t you supposed to stay angry at him until he begs for forgiveness? then why are your legs taking you to him? until you’re standing right in front of him and panting.

his eyes shine, but with sorrow and remorse. he tries to wipe his tears. tries to hide the fact as if he wasn’t just searching for you all around like a desperate person, but he fails. he looks down at his feet, unable to meet your eyes and feels the tears drip down his chin and on to the floor.

various words escape his mouth, some stuttered, some muffled while some he chose to say in his mind. but the only sentence you were able to understand was that he is sorry. and that he loves you and will wait until you forgive him.

he finally looks up, and he swore that he could’ve seen your lips lift and finally he could breathe normally again.

[adverbally]

Don’t Get Me Wrong

Written for the @steddiesmuttyseptember prompt “make-up sex” | wc: 1,258 | rated: M | cw: sexual content | tags: misunderstanding, handjobs, sexy biting, the conflict and making up is pretty one-sided because I don’t like when they fight for real | title from the song by The Pretenders

———

Steve’s day is a blur of anxiety and guilt. This is why he hates going to bed angry— it always takes too long to resolve and makes him a nervous wreck in the meantime. Luckily, second graders aren’t perceptive enough to notice the way Steve paces the room while they work on their art projects.

The previous day’s migraine still lingers, leaving Steve with a vaguely hungover feeling and requiring him to wear his glasses, much to the kids’ delight. He has to wonder how much of his fatigue is due to the postdrome and how much is from sleeping so poorly without Eddie beside him. Eddie not only slept in the guest room but left before Steve woke up this morning, both of which are bad signs. Either he was up all night obsessing over what Steve said and figured he might as well get an early start, or he was trying to avoid talking to Steve before they headed to work. Or both.

Whatever his motive, Eddie isn’t home when Steve gets back, or when he has dinner ready to serve, or when Steve gets tired of Letterman’s voice and goes to bed alone. The thought of another night without Eddie almost makes him sick, but maybe this is what he deserves for treating Eddie like he had. Steve buries his head under the covers and tries not to cry.

It’s late when Eddie slips under the sheets behind him, waking Steve from a light doze. Eddie has an arm draped over his waist and his nose pressed into the back of Steve’s neck, and it’s so normal that Steve thinks he could choke on it. He can’t get his throat to cooperate enough to say anything, but he lays his arm over Eddie’s and squeezes his wrist.

“Hey, sweetheart. Are you feeling better?” Eddie whispers, cautious about aggravating Steve’s noise sensitivity. It’s that concern, shared without bringing up Steve’s actions from yesterday, that breaks the dam.

Steve clutches at Eddie’s arm, the only thing tethering him to their bed. “I’m sorry, Eds, I’m so sorry.“

“Whoa, what’s wrong?” Eddie’s voice takes on a panicked edge at the first sign of Steve’s distress. “What are you sorry for, baby?”

“I yelled at you. I told you to shut up and leave me alone, and you did,” he recounts miserably.

Eddie props himself up on his elbow and encourages Steve to roll onto his back so they can see each other. “Steve, you had a migraine and I was making too much noise. It’s okay if you need some space when you don’t feel well, and I’m sure you would’ve been nicer about it if your brain hadn’t been trying to kill you, but I get it. I didn’t take it personally.”

“But… you didn’t come to bed.”

“We talked about it earlier this week,” Eddie reminds him gently, “I had a band who needed to coordinate studio time around their day jobs. It was an early start this morning, then I stayed late when they came back in the evening.”

It does sound somewhat familiar. “You planned to sleep in the guest room anyway,” he remembers, feeling a little foolish for overreacting. “‘Cause you didn’t want to wake me up.”

Eddie’s brow creases beneath his bangs. “Have you been feeling bad about this all day?”

Steve doesn’t want to sound pathetic, but he admits, “I tried to call you at lunch but you didn’t answer. I guess it felt like I should take the hint, you know?”

“I was stuck in a meeting with the marketing team. No passive-aggressive messages here, I promise. I didn’t even know there was anything to be passive-aggressive about.” Eddie sweeps a stray piece of hair away from Steve’s forehead and kisses the skin he uncovers at his temple.

Steve shuts his eyes and groans dramatically. “I’m an idiot.”

“You’re not,” Eddie insists, looking into his eyes so Steve can see how much he means it. “You’re just sensitive to other people’s feelings, even if they’re not necessarily feeling the feelings you think they’re feeling.” His mouth twitches as he realizes how ridiculous that sentence was.

Steve smiles along with him. “You know, I think I got what you meant there, but I’m not sure.”

Eddie rolls his eyes. “Next time you’re worried that you were an asshole, ask me. You know I have no problem fighting when there’s a fight to be had.”

“Okay.” Steve nods decisively. “Thank you.”

“Any time.” Eddie’s gaze drops to Steve’s lips. “Now can I kiss you? I’ve been home for, like, ten minutes and not touching you is making me crazy.”

Steve squeezes their interlocked fingers where they still lie draped over his belly. “You are touching me,” he points out, already tilting his head so Eddie will have a good angle as he slots their mouths together.

It’s like Eddie knows just what Steve needs right now, something slow and loving to prove that everything is okay between them. He kisses him with a lazy rhythm that makes Steve melt back into the pillows with a sigh. Every languid swipe of their tongues, every gentle touch of a hand on his jaw or the back of his neck or the curve of his hip, wipes more of the self-consciousness from Steve’s mind until there’s nothing but Eddie— his faded cologne, his tangle of hair, his cigarette-and-cinnamon-gum taste.

“Can I—?” Steve half-gasps into Eddie’s mouth, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his boxers.

“Shit, yeah, lemme just…” He grunts as he lifts himself enough for Steve to shimmy the underwear off his hips. “And you,” he breathes, already pulling Steve’s pajama pants halfway down his thighs.

They move in unison, each grabbing the other’s half-hard cock with a dry palm. It’s uncomfortable but the touch is incidental to the closeness it facilitates. Forehead to forehead, breathing the same air between filthy kisses, mindlessly rolling their hips into each stroke, they cling to each other like they’re afraid to let go.

“Fuck, Steve,” Eddie groans when Steve nips at his jaw. He tilts his head back in invitation. “Harder.”

Obediently, Steve ducks to bite the join of Eddie’s neck and shoulder, digging into the muscle there with abandon. He uses the flesh between his teeth to muffle his own moans when Eddie twists his wrist just right and starts to move a little faster.

“Yeah, gonna make sure everyone knows I’m yours?” Eddie laughs breathlessly, torn between rutting into Steve’s fist or arching into the dull ache in his throat. “Leave bruises so I can still feel you tomorrow?”

“Every day,” Steve murmurs into his skin, soothing the bite mark with his tongue.

Then Eddie’s free hand is pulling Steve upward by his hair and swallowing his whine while Steve comes helplessly, and Eddie is following him over the edge and adding to the mess across Steve’s stomach, and they really need to shower but Steve has Eddie draped halfway on top of him, kissing him lazily, and he probably couldn’t move even if he wanted to.

They’re just beginning to doze when Steve says, “Don’t sleep in the guest room again?” It’s more a question than a request. “I don’t care how early you have to get up, it sucks going to bed without you.”

“Okay, baby,” Eddie agrees sleepily. He turns his head where it’s pillowed on Steve’s chest and kisses his nipple.

“Love you.”

Eddie doesn’t respond, already starting to snore a little, but Steve feels him loving him back anyway.

[strawberrysainz]

supercut of us. max verstappen

“ you weren’t expecting him to join the holiday. so when he does . . . you’re not sure how to refrain yourself from both slapping him in the face or pulling him into bed with you. ”

max verstappen x fem!reader

a mini enemies to lovers “blurb” (it’s 1.5k words lol) for my max lovers.

a warning — slightly mature scene, profanity, alcohol consumption

3:36 P.M.

“My heart is pounding,” you admit, and your hand that absentmindedly clutches your moving chest allows you to let out a deep breath.

George chuckles. You’re both waiting for his girlfriend to come back from the bar with your cocktails - you for a drink, him so he can leave you two alone.

The bird that’s just made a grab at your bowl of snacks squawks from a metre away and you stare at it menacingly. Carmen comes back clutching two strawberry daiquiris, and George takes that as his cue to leave, hurriedly. You furrow your eyebrows. “What’s the man got to do at -” you check your watch -“three forty two pm on holiday?”

Carmen shrugs. “He had to get to the airport to pick people up, last I heard.”

You nod knowingly and lean back on the sun lounger, taking a sip of your drink.

Carmen starts to talk about drama from work, and you peer at her through your sunglasses as the warmth of the sun and the comfort of previous tipsiness starts making you drift off.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

4:56 P.M.

Around an hour later you’re rudely awoken by multiple cheeky voices; you can identify George’s loud voice through the squinting of your eyes through the sunlight, but there’s one voice that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. It’s raspy - in a smooth way - but the short cackle that follows it allows you to realise that it's someone you definitely don’t want on holiday with you.

Pure annoyance makes you open your eyes. Carmen is nowhere to be seen; four men stand above you. You sit up, yawning, and hope that you’re not red with sunburn. (Looking down for a split second, you’re not.) Then you look up with some kind of synthetic smile and your blood boils as you look Max straight in the eyes.

“Hi boys,” you say, smiling, and get up to give everyone a hug; Lando spins you around and runs across the sand, and as you scream he throws you into the ocean.

Now you need a drink, for real.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

LATER. 11:37 P.M.

Head heavy in your hand on the counter, you’re woozy, blanketed by too many cocktails, and Lily and Carmen sit across from you stealing blocks of chocolate from a bar Alex bought.

Max strolls in and you grimace.

The anger hasn’t dissipated- being in a serene setting hasn’t changed what happened- and you toss him the drink he nods to; he turns straight back around and leaves.

“What’s the beef with you two, anyway?” Lily says curiously, and Carmen laughs. “It’s so dumb.”

“When we were sixteen-” you interrupt yourself to cough- “he dated two of my friends and caused us all to break up our group. Then he asked me out for a date, we went out, then he ghosted me. I was left with no friends. Then we met again two years later and we had a screaming fight outside a club, which ended up in a Dutch gossip mag. I was so embarrassed.”

Lily scrunches her nose. Carmen has zoned out, but she laughs to herself.

You look at her with the hint of a smile, tilting your head.

She nudges Lily. “They have to share a room tonight.” She whispers, and she throws her head back laughing and you stare at her incredulously. “Sorry?”

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

2:16 A.M.

“Max, I don’t fucking care, I’m sleeping on this stupid thing.” You kick the hard wooden bench at the foot of the bed. (It looks like a terrible place to sleep).

“Can you fucking get over yourself?” He says, rolling his eyes, and you’re drunk and upset and trying not to cry because he makes you so angry. “Just sleep in the fucking bed.”

You stand there in the room with your arms crossed, breeze softly blowing. He huffs and stalks off to the bathroom.

You get dressed for bed, in a big t-shirt because it’s hot and humid. Max walks out of the bathroom as you’re sliding on the shirt and you know he’s gotten a glimpse of your stomach and your underwear because his gaze changes from something frustrated to something you witnessed at the age of seventeen, across a dinner table as his hands move over your thigh.

He seems to be moving without knowing; suddenly he’s in front of you, eyes wild with desire you haven’t ever known, and it’s a test of patience, standing there under the twilight; the curtains blow.

You stand there with trepidation rattling your body and turn around, getting into bed like a stubborn little child.

He closes his eyes, opens the door and leaves.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

9:23 A.M.

The morning air greets you as you walk outside; Lando’s made mimosas on the wooden table next to the swimming pool, and you take a champagne glass gratefully. You wave to Lily and Alex who sit with their feet in the pool, and sip, the sun bathing you in light.

Lando comes to sit next to you by the pool loungers and you raise your glass as a thank you to him. “I heard you two had a little spat last night,” he says carefully, and you snort. “He instigated it and left.”

He laughs. “He went past my room to sleep on the couch. His footsteps were so fuckin’ heavy, I couldn’t even sleep for a good twenty minutes.”

You laugh.

George yells from inside that he’s made breakfast and everyone gets up with a yawn. Lando grabs a spare bottle of champagne and you all walk inside.

There’s some nearly burnt pancakes, heavenly smelling bacon, some sausage, and fried eggs. You all praise him heavily (Alex wraps his arm around his waist and pretends to kiss him) and Max walks in. He doesn’t acknowledge you and instead greets everyone else. You roll your eyes.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

13:43 P.M.

You’re a bit tipsy already, enough so that you can chat to Max amicably beside the pool as George and Alex play some mix of water polo and volleyball.

Your empty glass seems to shout at you from your side, so you pick it up and make your way back to the house.

As you enter the kitchen you hear someone stepping behind you. It’s Max - you know it from the soft thud of his foot against the wooden floor. Your eyelids flutter shut with some emotion you don’t know yet when he comes to stand next to you. You watch him out of your periphery, his hands, the soft, flowing movement of his body. His resting face, squinting with concentration to pour drinks. You bite back some words and carry on pouring.

As you turn around to go back, you two face each other, and your breath hitches when his eyes slowly move to meet yours, clutching your glass like it’s your protector. His gaze is… tender. In the kind of way that blurs out everything else.

The only thing that comes to mind is kissing him, so you move to go, and he sets down a glass to grab your arm. You clear your throat, and Christine McVie’s voice croons in the background when you look back. His eyelashes brush his cheek every time he blinks, and you study his face, forgetting all that came before.

Lando and Alex call, and you both leave. The feelings are left there, back in the house, when you go.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

12:34 A.M.

Stumbling back from the restaurant, everyone bids eachother a good night after a quick drink of a glass of water each. You find your room and start getting undressed in the middle of the room, carelessly, and when you hear Max come in you get a fright and clutch your chest. He lets out a little laugh as he gets his things and moves to the bathroom.

Two minutes later, when he walks back inside, you’re bending over to see your face in the mirror to take off your makeup and you can sense the energy inside the room has changed. He’s in a shirt and those gingham pants that look divine on any man, and he stands still for a moment before moving over to the window. You bend back up and you’re met by his gaze again, frozen in place. Your lips part momentarily and he steps forward, and you’re reminded of how much you hate his stupid face when his lips meet yours. His hands wrap around your waist, one dipping beneath your shirt to rest on your stomach, and you’re kissing him, hard, desperately, messily; in a way that you don’t realise how much you wanted to until now.

He moves slowly to the bed, large hands grasping your waist softly, sending shivers up your spine. His hips press against yours as you fall on the bed, gasping with pleasure as his hands meet your neck.

❤️‍🔥🍓💋🍹

TWO MONTHS LATER. 11:56 AM.

In the garage, you’re busy chatting to some mechanics when he comes up to you, and his hands slide around your waist from behind. You twist your torso to smile up at him as he presses a kiss to your cheek, and to your delight he pushes you towards his driver’s room, shooting you a knowing grin as he looks away, holding up five fingers and then a thumbs up. You bite back a broad smile as you walk away.

i hope you enjoyed. heart, comment, reblog pls 🫶🤙 love u love u love u

[girlleon]

TOO CLOSE FOR COMFORT

leon kennedy x fem!reader.

warnings: emotional incest (daddy-daughter), dead parent, Leon’s ooc and kind of a pervert and a very unreliable narrator, reader is just a little bit too.

tumblr shadowbans posts that use nsfw tags, ergo the only tags I will use are in the post. content is below the read more and you’re responsible for your own media consumption. read at your own risk.

Your dad isn’t a bad guy. He’s, you know, inept in the way sitcom dads are. He has to ask you how the dishwasher runs when he sees you do it and it takes a couple times, but he figures it out in the end. Same thing with the washer and not having to separate out your reds and whites so you don’t make pink.

Leon’s just… he’s just a bit lonely. Mom died a decade back and now he walks around with half his heart in his hands and stares at you a little too long ‘cause you look just like her.

He tried dating but every woman he went out with could see his broken heart from a mile away and it was like seeing a dilapidated house, nobody wants a fixer-upper.

It’s no surprise to you when he starts hanging off you when you’re cooking for the two of you, big arms wrapped around your waist and cheek on your shoulder. Mom always said he was so clingy and would laugh every time she said that as he pressed his mouth to every place he could reach.

That was another thing too, she’d get playfully annoyed when she was wearing a strappy dress for some sort of work function and he’d damn near glue himself to her—body and mouth. She could never take it when he’d give her that kicked puppy look and reluctantly let go either.

Like mother, like daughter, you guess. You don’t shove him off or squirm free when he clings to you like a barnacle on a ship and you don’t complain because you damn well need the comfort too, even if you guys end up sharing a bed more often than not.

Your dad wasn’t very touchy when you were little, save for when you two were wrestling and he’d go a little too hard and wouldn’t let you up. You’d scream and cry when he wouldn’t let you out from under him and more often than not went crying to mom when she’d walk in.

But, anyway, he has that awkward demeanor of a guy who never got a hug from mommy when he was little. Hence why you never went to him when you wanted comfort, and mom was softer anyway, except for maybe a handful of times.

He told you once that he liked when you were sick because it meant you’d want his comfort, which stuck with you for a long while, but you’re past that, you’re a grown girl now.

Well, okay, it gets a little strange one day when he wraps himself around you like a vine from behind, fresh out of the shower. You get a whiff of him and pause, the wooden spatula freezing in the pan. He feels you stiffen up and lifts his head up, about to ask what’s wrong when you ask, “Is that my body wash?” sounding extremely scandalized and shocked.

Fuck, he never likes it when you’re shocked or angry or anything but happy with him. “Maybe.” Leon replies elusively, tightening his hold on you.

“Okay, what the fuck, dad?” You try to turn around but he holds tight. You stir faster, some rice slopping over the sides of the pan to burn on the electric burner. “Did you run out of yours, or something?”

“No.” Leon shakes his head, nose dragging across your clothed shoulder. “I just like the way yours smells.”

You make a face, unsure how to really respond to that. “Weirdo.” You decide after a while, shaking more soy sauce into the rice and stirring it around.

“Your mom never minded.” He huffs, pressing his nose to the crook of your neck and fighting a smile when your shoulders jump.

Your brows furrow and you turn off the burner with a click. “I’m not mom.” Comes out harsh, the spatula banging on the side of the pan to get the stray rice off.

Leon frowns, pressing his mouth to your shoulder for a moment. “I know, sweetheart.” He mumbles, straightening up and loosening his hold on you when you reach for the plates.

You frown too, lips pressing into a line as you dish out the food for yourself. He can damn well serve himself, he’s a grown ass man.

Dinner is a stiff affair, but he’s nice enough to do the damn dishes for his number one girl. “C’mere.” He tells you when he’s done, holding his arms out. You come over, of course, cheek squishing against his shoulder as you sag against him. You can never stay mad at that old oaf for long. “I miss her.” Dad murmurs by your ear, pretending not to notice the way your arms flare with goosebumps. Sensitive ears, you got that from him.

“I know, dad.” You mumble back, nose invaded by the orange scent of your body wash on him and his sharp-smelling aftershave. “I miss her too.” Enough time’s gone by that your voice doesn’t crack when you say that, but your throat aches all the same.

He squeezes you closer, resting his cheek on the top of your head, kissing it before laying his cheek back on your head.

Leon’s not a bad guy. You’re just the closest thing he’s got to a wife. And he really needs to get a fucking grip because he can’t keep walking around at half-mast because you called him dad. Like, what the hell else are you supposed to call him? Leon? Fuck no. You’re his kid and kids don’t call their parents by their first names, except for that creepy kid in The Ring, but that’s fake.

God, there’s something wrong with him, he’s got a couple screws loose or something that makes him react this way. He made you. He remembers going to all the ultrasound appointments and buying the prenatals and the damn cravings. He remembers holding you when your mother finally pushed you out, kissing her sweaty temple when you opened your little mouth and started crying because the world was too loud compared to the comfort of the womb.

And he remembers when little thirteen-year-old you dragged his sorry ass into the house after he collapsed on the lawn in a drunken stupor. He was in and out for a bit after you finally lugged him inside onto the couch and had to chase after the cat for good measure and bring her silly ass back in.

When he woke up, it was six in the morning and he had one of the worst hangovers of his life. There was already a little bowl on his blanketed lap in case he puked and you were curled up in a ball on the furthest side of the couch, snoozing away.

He let you stay home for the day and had an intervention with himself as you played nurse. Maybe that’s when shit got fucked up and lines got blurred. Somewhere along the way, some wires got crossed and you started sitting where your mom did, in addition to sleeping in their bed too.

He remains awake as you snore contentedly with your back to him, his chest firmly against your spine and hips against his. See, that’s another thing you got from him, those hips and perky ass. The more he thinks about it, you’re all him in all the best and worst ways.

Best ways: hips. Ass. Definitely legs too. You got his nose and his dimples and smile. And that little spring to your step that reminds him of the days before he transferred to the RCPD and came out of Raccoon City worse for wear. You make the same faces he does—got that nearly permanent furrow in your brow that he smooths out with his thumb and warns you that you’re too young for wrinkles. Sensitive ears too.

Worst ways: clingy. It was worse when you were young and always wanted to be around him. Jeez, he gets that you were a kid and all, but wow. Is it normal for kids to cling onto their dad’s calves and tell them not to go to work? Another thing, you’re so damn sensitive. Just one comment will throw you off and he’ll be begging for you to get back to normal. One time when you were twelve, he tried to spank you and he got the silent treatment for the rest of the night after you wiggled your way free, tears streaming down your little face. He slept on the couch because he felt so bad.

There is one thing though… Leon can pat himself on the back for making the perfect girl for him. You just share half his DNA, which makes things a little sticky.

You shift a little in your sleep, your ass pressing against his dick and he has to damn near bite his tongue bloody so he doesn’t make a noise because you’re asleep. More often than not, he has to go rub one out in the bathroom and feel guilty because all that can get him off is thoughts of you.

He tries out dating apps again a couple days after that. “Honey?” He calls out as you’re in the kitchen putting the dishes away.

“What?” Ugh, he hates that, you should just come over here when he calls out for you. When he doesn’t respond, you groan so loudly he can hear you from two rooms over, walking over to where he sits on the couch with those bifocals. “What, dad?”

“Can you help me set up my Tinder profile?” He has to hold in a smirk when you do a double take and shift your weight between your feet, gaze falling down to your bare legs because you decided to torment him and wear those stupid bike shorts before he trains his eyes back on your face.

“Aren’t you… aren’t you a little old for that?”

You don’t mean any harm, but he winces a little for show, his hand over his heart. “Ouch, honey, that hurts. I’m your old man, you should be nice to me.”

You huff at him and plop down next to him on the couch, leaning so close he can smell your coconut body butter you insist on slathering yourself in after a shower. Just take them a little colder, you don’t need to boil alive to get clean. “What do you have?” You ask him, scratching the tip of your nose.

He hands his phone over to you and you hold it carefully, swiping through his pictures catalogue before you look up at him, distinctly unimpressed in the way only hot college girls can be. He finds himself asking more than a little defensively, “What?”

“You need better pictures.” And to not set your age limits at a grandma’s age and a college girl’s age. “Hang on, I have some good ones of you.”

“Did your mom take them?” He leans over to watch you swipe through your gallery.

You shake your head, selecting a couple pictures from a folder named ‘dad’ and texting them to him. “No, I caught a couple candids of you maybe a couple weeks back. And Aunt Claire always sends some to me when all you older folk go out.”

Leon gasps in mock scandal, notching his sharp chin on your shoulder. “I could sue you for that. Unlawful surveillance. What are you doing taking pictures of me without my knowledge anyway?”

You freeze before you go back to selecting the right pictures for his Tinder carousel. “Scrapbooking.” You answer quietly after a long, uncomfortable pause, your eyes on his phone screen. “I don’t have much of mom, so I take as many of you as I can.”

Oh, sweetheart. He wraps an arm around you and squeezes you tight as you help him finish setting upon his profile. See, a couple good ones: him holding a bass as big as his arms put together, one of him smiling unguardedly with Auntie Claire’s German shepherd mix on his lap insisting on pets—he’s smiling so wide his dimples are showing, his fingers buried in the long fur—another of him taking a picture of you taking a picture of him, maybe he can add more when he feels like it.

He squints at the screen, maybe he should up his prescription, “What the hell’s a bio?”

You snort, halfway amused and halfway bewildered. “Like, biography, dad.”

“Why don’t they just say that?” He says to watch you turn to look at him, your noses just this far apart.

You turn back around, face warming. “Because it was meant to be shorthand.”

“Oh.”

You show the phone to him. It’s got his Zodiac—Scorpio—in a tab along with his height and weight, marital status, whether he drinks or smokes or is ‘420 friendly’—which you tell him means whether he’s okay with weed, he says no and you change that—whether he’s a cat or dog person, all the really important things to consider in a potential partner. He adds that he has you, then hedges on whether he should mention the dead wife.

You veto mentioning it, so he leaves it out, then saves his profile.

A bit after you help your dad set up his tinder profile—apparently, DILFs are in—you get asked out on a date. Which, normally, would be cause for celebration.

You just feel anxious at the thought of telling your dad that you’re going out. Like, how is he going to respond? He was never overprotective, and isn’t really now, but you really dislike the idea of leaving him alone for a while. You keep it a secret until you come downstairs and he’s making dinner. He turns around when he hears your feet on the creaky stairs, eyebrows raising as he lets out a low whistle at your outfit.

Your face warms all the way up to your ears.

“Where are you going?” He asks, managing to not sound sleazy as he turns back around to stir the sauce in the pot, the only thing betraying his true feelings being how jerky his movements are.

“Out on a date.” You reply reticently, shifting from foot to foot at the bottom of the stairs.

“Okay.” He says after a tense pause. Then he glances back over his shoulder, waggling his eyebrows at you. “Play safe.”

“Ew, dad.” You say as you go get your shoes and pull them on where you sit on the stairs. “Not happening.”

He hums, eyeing you surreptitiously. Aw, blue underpants this time, not red or black. “Good. At least wait until the third date.”

“I’m going now.” You tell him emphatically, wrapping your arms around him from behind before you walk out, keys in your bag. Leon’s stomach flips when your hand lands on his stomach, body betraying him once again. He curses under his breath and hangs his head, willing himself to calm down and kill that jealousy rising in the back of his throat as he watches you pull out of the driveway and go on your date.

Well, you come home thirty minutes later, guilt eating at you for daring to go out on a date. Nevermind the fact that you’re a fully grown adult and can do whatever you want because you’re young and hot.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He’s at the table, eating by himself and painting a very sad picture of bachelorhood. “Did it not go so well?”

“Yeah.” You lie, getting yourself a plate and serving yourself some spaghetti and meatballs. You didn’t even make it to the restaurant before you took a u-turn and went home, making up something about an emergency coming up. “Didn’t like the guy, gave me bad vibes.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He gets up and scoops you into a hug, hiding his glee successfully. “Other fish in the sea.” He says blithely when you’re both sitting down.

You slurp up the last of your spaghetti before giving him a smile. “Yeah. Other fishes.”

Neither of you mean a word you say.

A month later, he gets to go out on a date with someone else. He tells you the day of, the very same way you did a month prior.

Turnabout’s fair play but your stomach still complains and you’re still jealous of this woman.

He tuts and flicks your nose when you’re silent for a little too long, grinning when you scowl at him and jab him in the stomach. He grunts and doubles over and gets you back, this little play-fight going on for a few minutes because neither of you matured past the age of twelve.

Eventually, you get away and watch him adjust his clothes that you helped pick him out, your arms folding as you pout and sulk on the inside. “Don’t pout at me, babygirl.” He tells you, giving you a wink that traitorously makes your stomach flip-flop. “I’ll be back around nine, you can bring the hammer down if I’m out past curfew.”

You still don’t smile, you feel a little like you’re being replaced. Then again, this mystery woman isn’t the one who gets to have him clinging onto her as she cooks or while you sleep in the same bed or on the couch watching a movie you picked out because Leon’s a big softie and can never say no to his favorite girl.

But she might, and you revolt at the thought of having a stepmother at your big age. You two made it a decade without a replacement, you certainly don’t need one, and lately, you’re not so sure dad needs one either. You’re a wife figure all on your own.

He leaves with a big hug and a kiss dropped on the top of your head, the door shutting behind him. You watch him reverse out of the driveway before you start on dinner and sulk the entire way through the oven cooking your chicken nuggets.

Leon comes home an hour later and scoops you into a hug, rousing you from sleep in your shared bed.

“What’s up, dad?” You sleepily nose at him, head tucked into his neck. “Did you not like her?”

“Nah. I didn’t even see her, I told her something came up.” He pets your head and you snuffle, one arm wrapping around his waist.

“How come?”

“Bad vibes.” He knows you know he’s lying. “Besides,” he shifts, scooping you onto his lap, “I’ve got my number one girl right here.”

[baby-yongbok]

I'm Yours

Seo Changbin x Reader

Genre: Angst then Smut mixed with angst. Dirty Drama.

Summary: Even when you think you're done with him Changbin knows just what to say to make you melt for him.

Warnings: Cheating , Arguing/Yelling, Fingering, Changbin is kinda - low key gaslighting her (might be highkey). I think that's all, let me know if I missed anything!

Word Count: 2,407

✨Masterlist✨

“Don’t.” You push past Changbin, grabbing your shirt from the floor and tugging it on quickly. You can’t even look at him, how could he do this?

“Would you just let me explain?” He runs his hands through his hair as he buttons his shirt behind you. “I was going to tell her I just-”

“You just what? You told me last week, no, you promised me that you’d tell her about us. What happened to that? What happened to the I love you, baby, I’m going to tell my wife everything. I already made the date, I already made the fucking plans. What happened, Changbin?” Your throat burned from your yelling and you could feel the pinch in the back of your eyes but you won’t cry. You can’t do that right now, he doesn’t deserve that.

“It’s not that fucking easy, It’s complicated, everything is complicated. What am I supposed to tell the kids? Mommy and daddy are getting a divorce cause I started fucking your nanny? I have a family ya know, this isn’t black and fucking white.” You scoff, an incredulous laugh slipping from your lips as you step closer to your lover. He stares back at you, wide eyed with a red angry blush climbing up the milky skin of his neck and chest. You want to laugh this off, you want to tell him that you understand and that you just want him, any of him, all of him. But he doesn’t deserve that either.

“Oh, do I know that you have a family? Do I know? Let’s see Mr. Seo, am I aware that you have a six year old daughter who loves tea parties and hot wheels? Hmm, do I know that?”

“Don’t do that.” He looks away, bringing his hand up and rubbing his face. It’s a habit that he does when he’s stressed, you can’t blame him, this is fucking stressful.

“What about your four year old son who loves coloring and watching Bluey, do I know about that?” You take a step closer to him, leaving little to no room between you two. The heat radiating off of the both of you creates a deliciously toxic energy that makes you sick to your stomach. 

“Or what about your fucking wife.” You hiss, yelling in his face, he squeezes his eyes shut as he continues to avert eye contact. You push his chest with every word but he doesn’t move, of course he doesn’t he’s two times stronger than you. 

“Your wife who doesn’t give a shit about her kids or her husband or anything else that doesn’t solely focus on her. Your wife that is never home so I take care of her kids and they call me mommy. Your wife that doesn’t give you any attention so you started fucking me. I know a whole lot about your fucked up little family.” He grabs your hand, turning to face you and you swear that the look in his eyes could kill you.

“Stop this, now.” His voice is barely above a whisper, it’s almost gentle which is the complete opposite of the grip that he has on your wrist as he holds it against his chest. “I didn’t think that we’d take it this far, this was never the plan. Falling in love with you was not what I planned.”

“So I was just supposed to be a quick fuck? You didn’t mean to fall in love with me or fuck me in you and your wife’s bed before I pick up your kids. You didn’t mean to buy me jewelry or spend nights here begging me to have your babies, begging me to marry you when you divorce her. Fuck you, get the fuck off of me.”

“Will you let me fucking explain?” He growls at you and you suck your teeth.

“The hell I am.” You attempt to pull away from him but his grip only tightens. You pull again, this time more aggressively and when he doesn’t let you go you start to fight him, pushing and pulling and making him stumble as he tries to hold you. He lets go of your wrists and moves quickly to wrap his arms around your waist, he picks you up and throws you onto your mattress, ignoring your protests as you hit the memory foam.

“You think that I don’t know that she doesn’t give a fuck about me?” His voice bounces off of the white walls of your bedroom as you prop yourself up on your elbows. “She never fucking has, she never fucking will, she’s a gold digger we all know that. I fucked up and got her pregnant, I didn’t want any of this shit. I didn’t want this life. You, you are the first thing that I’ve wanted in years.”

“Bullshit.” You sit up, scooting down to the end of your bed. “Bull - fucking - shit, Changbin.”

You stand from the mattress but Changbin pushes you back down by your shoulders, he kneels down in front of you, getting a good grip on the plush of your thighs and pulling you to the very edge of the bed. You’re ready to protest, ready to scream and fight and throw a fit but the next sentence that comes out of his mouth makes you freeze. “ I told them to call you mommy.” 

He stares up at you, vulnerable eyes searching yours, you ball your hands into fists against the comforter. Is he fucking serious? “I didn’t tell my wife because she didn’t fucking show up for our date night. She had a work meeting which is code for fucking the new executive. I was going to tell her, I have -” He stops himself mid sentence, looking over towards his work bag and quickly moving towards it. He searches through it for less than a second before pulling out a folder and moving back in front of you.

“I have the fucking divorce papers, I signed them. I had everything.” You grab the folder from him, shaking your head as you read through them, they’re real, he isn’t lying but what good is that if you’re still stuck being the side chick? No good at all.

“Is this supposed to change my mind? Am I supposed to feel bad that your dead beat wife stood you up? I don’t give a fuck about her but clearly you still do.”

“That’s not fair -”

“Oh it’s not? It’s not fair?” You cross your arms, meeting his eyes with a sarcastic gaze. He speaks over you, shaking his head and gripping your bed frame as he grows more and more frustrated by the situation.

“That’s not fucking fair, she’s the mother of my kids of course I give a shit about her. Yeah she’s a bitch, yeah she doesn’t love me but -”

“But you love her?” Your sarcastic gaze morphs into one of anger, pure feminine rage and you’re ready to unleash it if he says the wrong thing. “Do you fucking love her, Changbin?”

“It’s not that simple.” You throw the folder that he handed you behind you, the papers confetti around the two of you, covering the mattress and floor next to you.

“Go home. Be with the woman you love, be with your kids, your family.” You lean forward, yelling in his face and leaving no room for air, you hate him you hate him so much for doing this to you. For turning you into the woman who loves a married man, even before you slept with him you knew that you loved him. It was the lingering stares and soft touches. It was the early morning conversations and the hot coffee waiting for you as soon as you walked through the door. It was the way that he’d take pictures of you and his kids like you were their mother, like you were a family. “The family that you fuck over every time you fuck me. Get out, leave. 

“I'm in love with you.” He grabs your waist, squeezing and holding you like you’d fly away if he didn’t. The sound of your primal yelling is still ringing in his ears but he ignores it, nothing else matters, all that he wants is for you to hear him. All that he wants is for you to understand that his wife may have a place in his heart but you own it. You and his kids are all that he really loves, all that he really wants. “What do I need to do to get you to see that? What do you want from me?”

His hand trails down to the curve of your hip as his eyes stay on yours. “Do what you promised me you would.” You snap back, shifting in his grip.

“Give me until Friday, that’s all I ask.” His hands run over the bare skin of your thigh, scratching down the sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in his wake. “Give me this last chance, please. I won’t fuck this up, I need you.”

He leans in, pressing his torso between your legs and resting his hands on your knees as he gently parts them. You watch him, your chest rising and falling heavily. You’re angry, you’re livid, you’re in love. “I want you so bad, baby, just give me three days.” His fingers inch their way towards the tender flesh of your inner thigh and you sit there, watching him.

“You said this before, you said it last week. Why are you doing this to me?” Your anger has abandoned you, it left you to face this desperate sadness all by your lonesome. Your voice is weaker than you’d like and the familiar pinch of tears fighting to escape visits you again and you’re not sure that you have it in you to fight them this time. “You keep stringing me along, Changbin, you keep -”

“Bunny, I’m begging you, just three days.” His pointer and middle finger sneak over to caress your folds over the gusset of your damp underwear and you shiver at the sensation. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry that I’m doing this to you. We knew this would be messy.”

He hooks his fingers into the wet fabric, moving it to the side and pressing against your clit softly. You try to keep your eyelids from fluttering shut but it’s no use, they’re closed before you can even think to do otherwise. “This isn’t fair.” You gasp, as he rubs tight circles against the bud, dragging whine from you that you don’t believe he has the privilege to hear. 

“You’re right.” His fingers move down, collecting your dripping slick and spreading it over your needy cunt. You open your mouth to snap back at him but his fingers are sinking into you before you can even get a breath out. “This isn’t fair, you’re right.”

His words are whispers as he watches you, he can feel himself relax as you arch your back into the air and squeeze your eyes shut because of him. For him. “Y-you take so much of me when you leave here.” You take a deep breath in an attempt to steady your speech. Changbin’s fingers pick up speed as you speak.

“What do I take from you, baby?” 

“Everything, you t-take so much of my power, my love, my pride.” A moan interrupts your sentence, and you let your head drop back as he curls his fingers inside of you. “There are so - so many parts of me scattered around your house. There are bits and pieces - pieces of you. So many pieces of you in this room. My pillows smell like you, your coffee mug, your toothbrush, I have it all but - but there’s no you.”  You close your eyes, a tear slipping down your cheek.

 "I want to take it all back," you whisper, your voice thick with emotion. His thumb finds your clit as you lift your head to look at him and you can’t help but to cry out as you buck your hips into his hand. 

“You don’t mean that.” He whispers back as his spare hand reaches up to wipe the stray tear rolling down your cheek. “ Tell me that, tell me that you don’t mean that.” 

You grind your hips, fucking yourself on his fingers hungrily, desperately. “Look at me.” His voice snaps you out of your fucked out hunger and you meet his gaze, more tears falling from your eyes and he moves his hand beside you to pick up one of the papers you threw. He lifts it to your tear stained cheek and wipes it dry with the paper, his fingers slow down as his eyes scan your face. He loves you, he really is in love with you. If you two had met in a different life or maybe just at an earlier time then you’d be the mother of his kids and he wouldn’t be the CEO of a company he doesn’t give a fuck about, he wouldn’t have to keep his happiness a secret. Why couldn’t that have been the way that things went? 

“I don’t regret any of this. I don’t regret you.” His fingers speed up again and you cry out, your trembling frame is beautiful to him. “You don’t regret me.”

“I don’t.” You moan, your hands tangle in your hair as you pant and whine. “I wish I did.”

“You have so much of me too, you own me. I’m yours. Fuck her, I need you. Anything that you want is yours.” You feel the knot tightening in your stomach and your eyes roll back at the feeling. 

“Say it again, s-say you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, baby.” Changbin’s eyes rake over your body as you near your high, your rosy skin is beautiful in the dimly lit room. “I’m yours.”

“Bin, oh my fucking god.” Your legs shake against the bed frame as your orgasm climbs up your spine. He groans, as he cups your cheek and guides your lips to his. He kisses you hungrily, passionately. Desperately. Before you can warn him you break the kiss, your body is falling into his as your legs clamp down around his wrist and he curls his fingers inside of you as you come down from your high. You’re panting against his shoulder as he peppers light kisses against your neck.

“I’m yours, I promise.”

(Unedited)

[signanothername]

Heyo! I love your art so much, as well as your mean girl Nightmare(I've halfway been imagining him with a *little* Regina George every time I've read that on this blog, no apologies for it) I was wondering, how do you think he'd react if Dream, Killer, just somebody who knew of his past just says; "You're just like them. The villagers.". Or ANY variation of that? Just the thought of him being the same as his past abusers, tormenting someone he dislikes, for what, because what have they truly done to deserve it? The idea of becoming the same of those who have hurt him, how would he react to that? I feel like if Dream said it, it would be more of an acceptance of how different his brother is, and how he'll never get his Nightmare that he knew and loved back, because his brother would never do this. Killer might say it to be a lil shit and torment him.

Just a thought I had! Hope you're having an fantastic day!

Hello!!! Thank you so much!! <33333 and good good don’t apologize cause it’s completely accurate to think of Regina George and I’m actually guilty of thinking the same thing like honestly fits shhshs

Here’s the Regina George Nightmare we all need

Now back to the main point shdhhd

Y’know funny thing is I can imagine his reaction would definitely differ depending on who says it, if it’s someone like Killer or anyone else other than Dream, I can imagine him feeling slightly offended/angry by it, but it wouldn’t have much of an impact, cause what does Killer truly know? Killer never saw/ known those villagers, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, at least that’s the mindset Nightmare would have, he’d just threaten Killer to zip it or simply throw him across the room

I can’t truly imagine Dream saying such a thing to Nightmare but I can definitely see the opposite with Nightmare saying it to Dream (which cough i already drew before >:) ) but we’re talking hypothetically so let’s talk about how he’d feel if Dream said it cause god, I wholeheartedly believe if Dream said it then hell would break loose

Cause the thing is, Dream was there, he knew those villagers, he knew how they were like and he knew how bad they were, Dream lived those days with him, but even then, while Dream endured a different kind of abuse, the villagers actually loved Dream, and they hated Nightmare, so how could Dream, who never had a single villager lay a finger on him, how could his twin of all people to say to him that he’s like his abusers??? Nightmare would go through the five stages of grief in 5 seconds

He’d be in so much denial, only to settle on pure unfiltered rage, cause how dare Dream, his twin, his blood and magic, tell him that he’s like them?

I can see Nightmare making excuses for his own actions, that he’s only doing all this to make them pay, he’d even say something along the lines of “so what if i am like them??” To convince himself that the idea of being like them doesn’t bother him (all while it fucking eats away at him) I can see Nightmare making excuses for why Dream would think such a thing, “you’re just drained of your magic, you’re confused”

I can see him go after Dream all the more aggressively, intent to kill cause how fucking dare he??

But then I can see the rage and fight leave Nightmare to finally settle on depression and resignation, all while part of him is still (and will forever be) in absolute denial

He knows he’s not like them, he never was and never will be

But why would he be an absolute mess by Dream saying it? Cause I wholeheartedly believe Nightmare would never expect Dream to compare him to the villagers, cause when your own twin says it it just cuts the much much much deeper

Hell I can even see Nightmare actually crying tears of frustration, maybe not in front of Dream cause Nightmare had become so used to isolating himself and keeping his emotions inside, and with his mindset of never wanting to appear weak he’d only let those tears out once he is sure he’s all alone

Because by god, he never thought it’d hurt so much to hear those words uttered by his brother, but they did hurt, and he’ll hurt Dream all the much worse for it

(Same to you!! Hope you’re haveing a wonderful day/night <333)

[shira-cosmic-star]

Are you still taking requests? If yes, Hi, mind if I send one in? How about some headcanons for how Jin, Luca, Alan, Haru, and Rui would react when the MC flinches when they raise their hand to bring up a point in a conversation? Feel free to discard if this makes you uncomfortable.

(Hi! Yes I’m still taking requests. Sorry it has taken me this long to get to it!)

WARNING: SUPER LONG, Mention of abuse, toxic relationships (family and romantic), panic attacks, angst, comfort, manipulation, verbal abuse, and one cuss word

��——————————————————

Jin:

You and Jin have been dating for a few months now. You know that Jin is easy to anger, but he tries his absolute best to not take it out on you. You both have had your fair share of petty fights and misunderstandings. Yet you both would make it up to one another. On this particular day. You both had a bad day. Jin had to handle a bunch of meetings and his own father. You were busy running around aiding all of the Ghouls that requested you. Delivering paperworks for them, cleaning for Romeo, Leo needing to use your ability, helping out with the animals, and so on and so on. Both of you didn’t get a break. We leads to both of you now arguing. What for? Both of you don’t know why. Jin grew more and more frustrated and annoyed and wanted the argument to stop. He raised his hand to pause you for talking. When you saw his hand quickly rising up. You flinched and shut your eyes tightly as you braced yourself for an impact with pain…

But it never came, the room was now silent. The air was heavy and thick. Jin froze, his eyes wide with shock. “Why did they flinch? Are they scared of me?” He thought to himself, he put his hand down and turned around. His back now faced you. “Just leave..” He needed a moment to think. You quickly left his room in tears. Jin sat down on the couch. Recalling what happened, he was now in his room with a huge weight in his chest. His heart felt heavy. He felt angry too, not in the way you think he’s is. But more in a way that it’s to do with him. He caused you to flinch. He never wanted to make you feel unsafe with him. That reaction made him feel more like a monster than ever before. You’re his lover, his partner, his future, literally the only reason he feels alive. He scared you.. or so he thinks he scared you.

You on the other hand, thought that you have pushed him too far. So far that you thought he was angry at you. Which isn’t true, all he wanted was the arguing to stop. But when he picked up his hand. You couldn’t help but reacted that way. It was how your ex has treated you. When you dated your ex, the ex was mean, manipulative, selfish, a liar and a narcissist overall. The ex would lay their hands on you, scream at you, and purposely make you cry out of enjoyment. Your ex has broken your confidence, tore down your self esteem, and made you feel unworthy of love. When you came to Darkwick and met Jin. All of that changed, Jin was rough at the start. Thought the more you spent time with him. You saw more that met the eyes. He was kind, loyal, playful, honest, and brave. He actually helped you built up yourself up little by little. How? By getting you things you need. You need more clothes? Done, need money to buy personal items, done. Need a boat to help you with the other dorm on their mission? Also done. Need a break from all of the stress and missions? Let’s go to the beach.

You were hesitant about asking for things but he never cared. He would tell you if need something. Just say so. After the argument took place, both of you stayed to yourself for a bit. Tohma actually encouraged both of you to talk. So you walked over to his room. Nervous about everything, Jin waited in his room for you. Once you entered, you both had a heart to heart conversation. Jin now fully understands why you reacted that way and you now understand that he wasn’t mad at you. It was more towards himself for scaring you. He’s now more mindful of your triggers and you are more mindful about him never hurting your the way your ex did.

———————————————————

Luca:

Both you and Luca were working out and training together. You were determined to get stronger and not hold anyone back. So as both of you were training. He was coaching you on how to do a few exercises. He started out easy on you since you were used to working out to an extreme level. As time went on and on. You slowly began to built your body. Now he was teaching you hand to hand combat. You started out with the punching bag and now you are facing him. He still planned on going easy on you. When he starts giving you pointers and tells you to hit his hands with the punching mitts. He would often throw in little advice down the line too. “Make sure to never take your eyes off of them.””When they are open, strike hard as you can.” “Best thing is the elements of surprise.” He would even tell you that your opponent would also use elements of surprise. “Don’t let your guard down for a sec.” Now training was over, and both of you are worn out. He stood next to you for a few moments to catch his breathe. What he said had stuck to you pretty hard. Luca decided to stretch his body. His arms up in the air. When you have caught a glimpse of his movement. You thought he was going to strike you unexpectedly, to catch you off guard. But instead of defending yourself like he taught you. You flinched and scrunched down with your hands over your head. He stunned by what just had happened.

“MC?…why did you flinch? What’s wrong?” His voice was full with worry and confusion. Your hands trembled has the flashbacks fills your mind. The blood pounded in your ears, Your heart thudded in your chest, feet tingled, and vision disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish-eye lens. Luca realized that you were having a panic attack. So he bent down in front of you. Calmly he continued to call your name. Never did he raise his voice to catch your attention. He simply remained patience. He didn’t touch you, not until you gave him consent. He doesn’t know what was going through your mind. But once you pulled out of it. You began to cry as you reached out to him.

He’s holding you in his arms as you cry. You have told him about your family and how they would lay their hands on you. Physical hurting you as “punishment.” They would often berate you, telling you. That you weren’t good enough and nothing but a disappointment. Luca was angry about it. He swore to you, that he will always protect you. After having the long talk. Both of you decided to head to the store to buy a few snacks and head off to watch a movie in his dorm. From that ever day. He made sure to pay close attention to your wellbeing. Often telling how much he loves and adores you.

———————————————————

Alan:

You both head off to do a case that was assigned. It was just you and him. As you were investigating the scene. It got pretty dark out. As both of you finished. You hear a strange noise. You turned around to face where the noises were coming from. A strange shadow like figured with red eyes. Stares back at you, then it transforms to your worse nightmare. The anomaly had transform itself into your abusive ex. The illusion becomes too realistic for you. Your ex smirks at you as they walked closer and closer to you. You began to cry and beg them to leave you alone. Each inches they took towards you, you would back up. Now you were backed up against the wall. You screamed, all of the sudden a loud sound ripped through the room. It was Alan, he had punched the anomaly through it’s mask. The mask shattered, the red eyes you saw earlier revealed once more. The illusion of your ex was gone.

Alan completed stood between you and the creature. His back faced towards you. “You will not touch them.” Alan tells the anomaly, his voice held deep anger. It was rough and aggressive sounding. Usually that would scary you, but with Alan. It was different, for the first time. You felt, Safe.

Shortly after he dealt with the creature. He slowly walked over to you and bend down to your level. You were still in shock. He held a hand out to you. “Are you okay?” You started at him, he was covered in blood. Luckily, it wasn’t his blood. You looked at his hand and then back at his face. He waited for you to accept his hand. Alan knew how terrified you were, so he waited on you. You took his hand and hugged him when he pulled you off the ground. He was stiff as a board because he wasn’t used to physical contact. Yet, he knew you needed this. So he placed a hand on your head as you cried. When you are ready, he knows that you know. He’s here for you no matter what. ———————————————————

Haru:

You volunteered to help out Haru with the animals. It was a nice sunny hot day. Haru wanted to make it a water theme tour for visitors. You can stay cool and have fun with the animals. Your job was to attend the small easy animals. “Hey MC, mind helping me grab a few things from the kitchen and the shack?” You agreed and followed him to the kitchen. Both of you were preparing the meals for the animals. Since it was their lunch time. Later you head over to the shack and he had told you to grab the hose. He connect the water hose to the pump. “Once I have it all untangled and stretched out to the pool. I’ll yell for you to turn it on!”

“Gotcha! Just say ‘okay,’ soon as you want me to turn it on.” You told him. He gave you a thumbs up and untangled the hose. You waited for him to give you the okay. A few moments has passed and you hear the word. You turned it on but didn’t know if it was working or not. After turning and turning, you hear. “GAWK TOO MUCH, TOO MUCH WATER!”

As you panicked to turn it off. The knob broke off, causing you to panic more. He walked over to you drenched in water. Placed the knob back on like it was nothing and sighed in exhaustion. As he turns to face you now. You were on the verge of tears. Trembling over the fact that he could be angry at you. Haru reacted his left hand to pat your head. He saw that you flinched. It hurts him to see you all shaken up over a smile common mistake.

“Hey, it’s okay. It happens a lot actually.” He comforts you.

“I’m so sorry, I swear I didn’t mean to make a mess and I-I broke the knob off.. *sniffs*” you had apologized to him for your clumsy mistake.

“Aw it fine! I’m all cooled off and ready for the water park! Besides the knob is back on. Like I said, it happened before. Why are you apologizing?”

“….Becomes I’m nothing but a klutz..I’m not good at anything. Always a screw up..” Tears streams down your face as you tried to wipe them off. He pats your head again and starts to compliment you.

“You’re not a klutz or a screw up. In fact, I’ve made tons of silly and funny mistakes! So bad that even Ren laughed at me!” This got you to laugh and smiled. Haru may not fully understand what you have went through, but he lets you know. That if you ever need someone to talk too. He will always be there for you.

———————————————————

Rui:

Rui offered you a part time job at his bar. You took that offer so you can save up to buy the things you have been waiting for. Rather that’s movies, video games, clothings, a new phone case and etc. You are in desperate need to spoil yourself for your hard work. So for the time being. You were at his bar, helping him clean before he opens. He had you to wipe down the tables as he cleans the cups. Once he opens the guests starts packing in. When he was busy with one customer he had asked you to grab a cup for him. When you walked over to the glass stand. You have accidentally knocked over one with your elbow . When you moved to pick it up. You knocked over another one. It fell completely off the stand and onto the floor. The glass cup, shattered all over the floor.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll clean that up!” You told him as you bent down to pick up the broken piece. Unlucky for you, Romeo saw what had happened. He criticized you for being clumsy and called you a CBB. Which you guessed it stand for “Clumsy basic bitch.”

This struck an unpleasantly nerve. “Ouch..” looking at your hand, there was a small glass that prickled your finger. Rui saw the blood and rushed over to you. He had ask Lyca to take you to the infirmary to patched you up.

After you were all patched Rui text you to take the night off. You figured he was mad about the messes you made. That night, you cried yourself to sleep. Ashamed of what you have done and the embarrassment you’ve caused.

In the morning, Rui came over to check up on you. You were about to head out to class. When you opened the door, there he was. You were going to apologize to him later. But since he was here, might as well say sorry.

You had opened your mouth a a bunch of apologies were heard. This caught Rui off guard. “Woah woah, slow down.” He nervously said. “Why are you apologizing? I’m not mad.”

“But you should be! I embarrassed you and broke your glass cup. Romeo was right..I’m nothing back a “Clumsy basic bitch!” You beat yourself up for your mistakes. Rui puts both hands in the air as surround. You thought he was going to hit you. So you have fully prepared yourself for the impact. But it never came.

“Huh? Why did you flinch MC?” You looked into his eyes and saw how wide and concerning he looked. “I was never going to hit you..I’m pacifist.”

“Besides, I can never hurt a cute person!” He smiled brightly at you.

“…You wouldn’t? But I brought shame to you..” Rui didn’t understand why you were so hard on yourself. He simply smiled awkwardly now and tells you that you didn’t bring shame or embarrassment, that you were not a clumsy basic bitch. From that day, he made sure to compliment you whenever.

———————————————————

(Unedited)

Author’s note: this took a really long time to make. So sorry for the wait and I hope you liked it! Also sorry for making Romeo a bully.

[freedomfireflies]

hi! can i get a stiles blurb?? maybe injured and angsty? 😭

“Ow…ow…ow…ow, motherfuck—shit.”

You feel your eyes roll as you help the dramatic and rather needy patient settle onto your bed. “Baby, I told you to stay home—”

“Yeah, and I said no fucking way,” Stiles retorts quickly, huffing a stray hair from his eye before flopping onto the mattress. “See? I’m fine.”

You release him and step back, arms crossing as you offer a teasing scowl. “Right. A wrist brace and an angry letter from Coach are a clear indication of you being fine.”

To this, he waves his right arm into the air, the dark bandage wrapped around his hand not as intimidating as he had made it out to be. “It’s just a sprain, okay? Not a big deal.”

“Yeah, okay. Is that why you were crying?”

His expression falls. “I was not crying. I was just disappointed for my team cause they’re gonna miss me.”

“Uh-huh. So, what’s with all the ow-ing?”

He blinks. “I wasn’t ow-ing, I was just…I said wow. You know, like wow, get a load of that ass.”

You so badly want to scoff at him, but you feel the flush in your cheeks as he smirks victoriously, reaching his good hand out to loop around your hip and pull you onto the bed. 

He noses under your jaw, lips ghosting just below your ear as you feel your breath hitch. “Missed you,” he murmurs softly, his mischievous intentions now abundantly clear. “Did you miss me?”

Your lashes fall shut as his mouth travels down the curve of your throat. “Did I miss the constant bad jokes and sarcasm? No. No, can’t quite say that I—”

His teeth find your skin, pulling deviously as you gasp. You feel him grin to himself as his fingers slip beneath the hem of your top and for just a moment, you forget why you were so peeved with him in the first place.

“What was that?” he asks when you whimper at the practiced way his palm sweeps across your hip. “Did you say something?”

“I…you…this isn’t…” You aren’t making any sense and you’re so furious with yourself for letting him distract you like this. “Stiles…Stiles—”

“Yes, Princess?” 

You swallow. He’s a sadistic prick for using the one nickname you can’t help but fold to. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” His head rolls, tongue traveling up your pulse point as his hand moves up toward your chest. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Isn’t this why you called me over?”

Your fingers scratch down the soft brown hairs at the nape of his neck, knees deep in the mattress to brace yourself as you straddle his waist. “No, I…I called you over so I could…so I could take care of you—”

“You are,” he nearly purrs. “Promise you are. Always take care of me. Make me better. S’making me better right now. To feel you. To hear you—”

“Stiles—”

“What? Don’t you want me to get better?” The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your nipple as you swallow a gasp. “Hm?”

“I…” You exhale a shaky breath despite yourself, working desperately to find a response. “You…I just—”

“Words, Princess.”

But you don’t have any words. You don’t even have any thoughts in your head as you feel his touch travel down your stomach and toward your sweatpants, slipping beneath so casually that you could be fooled into thinking this was always his plan.

Which…to be fair, it probably was.

“Stiles,” you try again, a strained whisper as you bury your face in his neck. “Please…”

You hear him chuckle. Feel it, too. And you’d roll your eyes if it were any other moment, but he knows you. And he knows exactly how to play you like a fucking violin. You’re nothing but his toy and this is proven when he leans back to meet your eye.

“Say it,” he demands, fingers still just below your belly button. So close yet infuriatingly far. “Say it…and I’m all yours.”

You roll your lips into your mouth, your brain fighting your body on what it wants versus what it needs. “You…thought you were meeting Scott—”

“He can wait.”

You swallow a whine at the resolution in his voice. His determination to put you first. “You need to rest. You need to get better—”

“I am.” He leans closer, eyes falling to your mouth as you struggle to remain indifferent. “This is how I get better.” 

“Stiles—”

“What?” He pulls his lip between his teeth to suppress his smirk. “Come on, Princess. Thought you wanted to take care of me. Yeah?”

Your eyes close as you nod faintly, his nose brushing yours as your walls begin to fall. You know the rest of the group is waiting for him. Know the doctor told him to take it easy. Know that he has plenty of other things to do besides you.

And yet knowing does absolutely nothing to stop you from grinding down into his touch.

He murmurs something under his breath you don’t catch. But it sounds desperate and excited and your stomach churns. 

“Say it,” he whispers again. “Say it, baby, come on. Please say it.”

Your chest begins to heave. Your dad will be home in half an hour, and he already forbid you from seeing Stiles once and you don’t imagine you want him to do it again and you really need to get off of him and take him home and tell Scott he’s on his way and tell his dad that he’s okay and make sure Coach isn’t too upset and—

“I need you,” you hear yourself say before you can stop it. “Please…please, Stiles. I just…I need—”

He kisses you. Finally, and fervently, and it’s everything you’ve wanted since the moment he climbed through your window fifteen minutes ago and crashed to the floor. 

And he’s everywhere. You know nothing else but him and his fingers and his touch as he makes your cunt his personal plaything. As he tastes you, as he talks to you, as he lays you down on your stomach so he can ruin you from behind.

And with your face buried into the pillow and his tongue buried in you, you realize maybe he was right.

He makes you better, too.

~ Full Masterlist

~ Other Dylan Blurbs

[graceofagodswrath]

Ok ok ok your "Humans of Transformers franchise are space orcs" rant is out of this world.

I detest with passion when humans are reduced to pets and plot devices when instead the story could be about two alien species finding one another equally amazing/terrifying for their own respective reasons.

Here is my question: do humans and Cybertronians see how eerily similar they are? They have love of music, familial relationships, similar urban infrastructure, societal structure, financial systems, competitive entertainment, organized societies and war, colonialism, recreational intercourse, marriage...

Not to mention, why was it never addressed how similar both species look: bipedal, waists, noses, cheekbones, 5 fingers, chins, facial expressions and sense of aesthetics and beauty? Sure, humans have hair but in rather strategic places.

Veins and wires, blood and energon, metal and flesh, nanobytes and blood cells, Sparks and brain impulses, sexual organs...

Imagine Autobots arrive on Earth for the first time expecting some primitive cave-dwellers, only to encounter a less advanced mini-version of Cybertronian cities (New York, Singapore, London, Rome, Tokyo, Rio, Dubai...) and societies running on scientific, artistic and philosophical development which has no right existing on the ruthless, all-organic planet such as Earth is. Societes run by creatures who 4.000.000 (the duration of their war) years ago were hanging from the trees btw.

Autobots would be terrified.

Lemme make sure this response saves this time, cause it took me a minute to answer cause my first deleted and I had so much written I got unbelievably angry and refused to even look at the tumblr app.

But here we are.

So, this is EXACTLY what I have been thinking about for who k owe how long. It’s also the intro to this wack as fuck universe idea I’ve had in my head a while, and have kinda hinted at in my other works, but I’ve never gone into detail about.

And I still won’t.

Anyways, yes. It’s crazy that we backlit humans so much when any other sentient species is about. Transformers, TMNT, etc (I’m on a one track mind, feel free to jot down any other fandoms I can’t think of). The main theme of these stories? HUMANS SUCK. And that is severely unfair. People want to cry about how much our generation doesn’t give a shit anymore. Have you SEEN the media we feed kids???

That’s why I live Humans are Space Orcs so much. It really puts into perspective how unique and batshit our species is.

So, onto the Transformers vs humans concepts. The ONLY reason (forgoing technoism and general hate towards organics) cybertronians don’t see humanity as an imminent threat, or one in general, is because of size. WE BE SMALL AF. Can’t blame them, I get it. We do the same. Insects? Fuck them mfs.

But have you seen a botfly or tick burrow into your skin? The infection that comes form that? Have you seen ants jump a small animal as a colony and absolutely shred it? Or a spider only biting you, and the horror the venom causes (recluses and huntsman’s specifically). We have a good fucking reason for disliking these mfs.

But transformers? These are organic experiences. Worst they go through are rust infections, spark death, the works. They are not at risk the same way we are. That is why they view organics as small and inconsequential. They have no idea how hard we fight to simply stay alive.

And now the similarities. It’s understandable that they wouldn’t immediately recognize the physical, cultural, and psychological similarities between our species. Transformers are an incredibly diverse race, like any other. But specifically in physical form. Your average cybertronian holds a similar appearance to your average human. We tend to have the same features, just with different names. Eyes, noses, faceplates, ears, two arms, two legs. Sure that’s average for them too. But they are unique because of the fact that they have two forms. Vehicle mode. Their mode decides what they’re second mode looks like, which can create extreme diversity is appearance. Small, large, many limbed or not.

So the immediate similarities probably wouldn’t jump out to them in an odd way. There’s also the idea that because they’re so spread out in the universe, they’ve seen other organic races that are also similar. Pairs of every body part could be the common denominator among species.

That goes culturally too. War, love, music, government, politics, it’s all a natural form of sentient evolution. Another common denominator. It’s how it’s done that makes it unique. And the similarities between human and cybertronian culture is uncomfortably familiar.

I think that’s why cybertronians are seen being closest with humans rather than other species in the shows and comics (obviously because the audience is human and they need relation to characters but shhhh forget that for a sec). This is where the theories start.

Let’s say cybertronians begin to recognize the weird similarities between our species. The really, really weird stuff. The itty bitty details. Like:

- how we also mainstream kissing on the lips as the top tier romantic gesture.

- use verbal tone and cues for our language.

- have intensely complicated interpersonal relationships in the exact same manner.

- suffer from extreme mental health issues like depression, anxiety, PTSD (I totally headcannon that forms of adhd, autism, and ocd exist in cybertronian society, have y’all not seen my boy rodimus prime??)

- will also destroy each other in the name of our gods, until we have a common enemy.

That’s just the basics I could come up with. The only time I actually saw a moment where a transformer genuinely take a moment to realize that humans can be a threat, was in transformers prime. Episode 6 of beast wars (I think, correct me if wrong), where Miko beats the ever loving fuck out of an insecticon (I think) and upon Megatron hearing this, just goes blank Kubrick stare for a hot second. Man had an ugly realization that did not fit in with anything he had experienced his whole life.

AND THEY NEVER FUCKING ADDRESSED IT EVER AGAIN. Sick of this shit. Could’ve had the most badass character development, where the humans actually proved useful and did something (it would have fit Milo’s character so perfectly too) and scared the utter shit out of the transformers. BUT NO. They continue to be annoying as fuck.

One thing I loved about TF Prime was that it canonically turned Unicron into Earth. And humans came from the earth. Which relates humans beings and cybertronians so hard. Cousins Fr. We are the cybertronian equivalent of organics, and transformers the inorganic equivalent of humans. The individuality, the chaos, the culture, it clicks. There is so much material to really go into it.

But they never do. Don’t get me wrong, I love Transformers lord and just discovering more without humans being involved. We’re just annoying af at this point. But there is so much u tapped potential in transformers actually taking the chance to LEARN about us. But we’re just friends (pets) to these mfs.

That’s why I love TF Earthspark so far. Transformers ingrained into human culture because they’re not from Cybertron, and cybertronians having to adapt to human culture because they have no where else to go. Granted, it’s a kids show. There’s only so much they can do. But I’m excited for where it’ll lead. It really shows how much of threat and ally humans are, and how we are just as diverse as cybertronians.

I need to write another fic about cybertronians meeting humans their size from our world tho. Need to continue my old piece. Would give me so much life. Y’all help motivate me, college draining my ass.

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hi! I was wondering if you would write head canons of baldwin and reader getting into an argument, I remember reading another fanfiction from nebbyy and her head canons of Baldwin and reader fighting, it was super interesting and Im wondering if you could also do them? I would love if the reader was a hot headed person and didnt give in quickly, thank you🫶🏼

☆ Headcanons: King Baldwin x Reader - Arguments ☆

☆ Headcanons ☆

A/N: Hello Anon! Thank you for the request! I love doing headcanons haha, I hope this is what you had in mind 😊. As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy, Arguments

It is not often the both of you argue, but when you do it is never very heated. From Baldwin’s side at least.

He hates getting mad at you and it takes a real lot to do so.

Yelling at you would hurt him more than it would hurt you so he does it as little as possible.

I can imagine him getting into arguments with his s/o mostly about him pushing himself too far with his duties. You can't stand to see him pushing himself too hard on account of his disease and he tries to push you off about it, insisting that he is fine until he ends up collapsing.

But you are relentless about the subject.

You're not the kind to back down easily and as much as he loves that about you, it is the cause of a fair few disagreements.

Because of this, he is often the one backing down first. You are the only person who could ever make this man surrender.

He just loves you too much to fight.

After the two of you come to an agreement, he insists to do something nice with you, just to relax.

This could be a bath together or just going for a walk in the courtyard, after you both cool off first.

He is insistent on apologizing first and as hot headed as you can be, you can't resist his adorable charm.

Eventually you give in and apologize too, even though he insists it's not your fault, no matter what the disagreement was about.

This makes you feel bad but you don't tell him that, instead you just make sure to treat him really nicely which he is grateful for.

He can't resist a nice head scratch after such chaos.

If the argument was very heated and Baldwin did end up shouting (which would be very rare), the regret would be instant.

You would be taken aback by him raising his voice, since he is usually so calm with you and he would be shocked himself.

He would instantly forget whatever you two were arguing about and apologize.

Since you yourself are not the calmest person and not very sensitive either, this would hardly bother you. More just surprise you instead.

He's more likely the one to start crying and begging for you to forgive him than anything else.

“My sweet angel, I’m so sorry- I don't know what came over me please forgive me”

Of course you forgive him

He needs plenty of reassurance for the rest of the day that you aren't angry at him <3

[gogoconvstore]

Honeycrash (Logan Sargeant x GN! Reader)

LOGAN SARGEANT ANGST AFTER LAST NIGHTS NEWS

NOW PLAYING: SASAMI - HONEYCRASH

WC: 508

Honestly, you knew it was a big possibility, you had always tried to calm down Logan and lie to him that it wasn’t gonna happen, it hurt you to lie but it’s all you could do. Even though you knew it was a possibility you hadn’t expected this. You expected him to not get resigned, and he did too but get thrown out midseason? You were pissed, and shocked. You were really mad at Vowles, probably madder than Logan was. Logan had been out with his friends so he hadn’t seen the official announcement yet. If you could even call it ‘official’, announcing him leaving after announcing his replacement for a second time had you burning up. The only thing that was possibly worse? The comments. So many people were saying it was deserved and he was a piece of shit and how nobody liked him. You were angry, if you could fight every single one of them you would. You didn’t know what Logan would do, he’d gone straight to the club from the race with his friends so you hadn’t seen him yet, and you didn’t think he’d be home anytime soon. If you had to guess he’d get back home and be hammered. At least that’s what you had thought until you heard the door open, and someone sobbing and coughing.

“Logey?” You called out to him as he entered your shared hotel room. When you called out you heard him stop crying, sniffling, and moving which confused you. You sat up trying to look at him through the darkness of the room.

“Y-you weren’t supposed to be here! You weren’t supposed to be in bed! I was supposed to be alone!” Logan yelled, starting to sob loudly again. You were completely bewildered, and before you knew it Logan had crashed into the bed with you. He was shaking, alot, in fact Logan was vibrating like a Temu rose toy as he gripped onto you, lying on top of the hotel bed covers.

“Did you see what they said? Is it true? Am I the worst? Did I deserve this?” He begged for some type of comfort from you as he grabbed onto you even tighter, his shaking was interrupted by a lightning strike outside which made him whimper and his face in your chest.

“Look at me Logan. Of course it is not true Logan! You’re not the worst and you did NOT deserve this! Williams is a piece of shit!” You said, grabbing Logan’s soft face so he would look at you. His tears started to subside and he chuckled.

“Your hands are really soft,” he whispered out, causing you to also giggle. You went to say something back but he was already asleep.

“I love you Logan, I’m so sorry people can’t love you the same way I do. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” You whispered, realizing he wasn’t asleep when you saw him blush wildly. You decided to not bring it up and just let him rest.

[marksmelodies]

for better, for worse

idol chenle x fem reader

genre: angst, smut, fluff

warnings: cussing, mentions of sex, unprotected sex,

—————————————————————————

you and chenle have been fighting a lot lately, everything you say to eachother ends up in a argument. it’s a never ending saga of screaming, fighting, threatening to break up, making up, having sex, then fighting again and so on.you currently were staring at the clock on the wall as chenle was thrusting in and out of you, wishing was that it would be over soon.you love chenle and you love your sex life with him but recently it seemed like a sympathy card and nothing more.the two of you used to have so much chemistry, your sex was amazing, you two were so passionately in love, but now you both seemed burnt out.

chenle was chasing his orgasm, thrusts were becoming rushed and messy, headboard smashing against the wall, it seemed as if he was just eager to blow off steam rather than actually wanting to have sex with you.the two of you fought earlier due to chenle blowing you off again for work, you tried your best to be understanding of his job, you knew how much it consumes his life, but when he’s blowing you off every single day it’s really hard to justify it, selfishly you wanted him to focus on you more than work.when you brought it up to him he got defensive and started yelling, which caused you to get angry and the whole situation escalated very quick leading to screaming, cussing and slamming doors.

you looked at him and wondered if you two would ever go back to how you used to.once he finished he laid down back facing you not saying a word, the next thing you know you hear soft snores coming from him.you walked to the bathroom and turned the shower on, feeling a little sore from chenle taking out his anger on you.

as the water hit your back, you begin to sob, knowing the love of your life is slipping away was the worst feeling in the entire world. you wouldn’t blame him though, your relationship had become extremely toxic.a few moments of you crying you hear the bathroom door open.

“ i’m coming in i have to piss” you hear chenle say softly

you quickly get ahold of yourself “ go ahead ” you respond your voice shaking a little.silence fell between you two for a few moments until he speaks up.

“ it’s because of me right”

“ what”

“ your crying that hard over me… over us” you go silent again not knowing what to say, that’s when chenle steps in the shower fully clothed saying nothing, just grabbing you pulling you into a hug.you take a minute to process what’s happening you feel the man in your arms start to shake before hearing him wail, in all of the years you’ve been together you have never once seen him cry so hard.you both stand in the shower with the water running embracing eachother as you two sob.he finally looks up at you with red eyes and quivering lips

“ please don’t leave me” he cried into your shoulder

“ shhh baby everything’s going to be okay”

“ but it’s not, it’s not y/n and i don’t know how to fix it”

you both soak in this very vulnerable moment and decide to sit down and have a conversation when you were done.

“ first of all chenle i’m not leaving you, i don’t know where you got that from but when i promised you forever i meant it”

“ second of all, i think we need to go to couples therapy” you say to him. he just stared at you

“ i think it’ll help, really, a friend of mine recommended me a good therapist. i’m going to fight for us chenle and i’ll do whatever it takes”

“ me too, i’ll go if that’s what you think will help”

“ i really do babe, i think it’ll help a lot” that night you two were making some sort of progress even though it doesn’t mean much because you knew at some point you two would regress and go back to square one but you had a glimpse of hope this time.instead of spending the night at your friends place avoiding chenle which would usually happen around this time of night.you lay cuddled on the couch watching a movie, you can feel chenle shifting as if he was uncomfortable.you got up to get him some water, when you came back chenle was standing up looking a little frantic.you were confused until you saw the tent in his pants.

“ really lele” you roll your eyes

“ you can never keep it in your pants” you laugh to yourself.

“ i’m sorry babe it just happens, i’ll go take care of it in the bathroom i’ll be right back” he says at you frown at him.

“ i mean you could do that or i don’t know you have your turned on girlfriend standing right in front of you” you smirk,he walks over to you picking you up making his way to the bedroom.throwing you down on the bed, immediately smashing his lips onto yours, grinding his clothed dick onto you as you moan into his lips, driving him crazy.

“ fuck i cant take it anymore” he rips your shirt and shorts off, taking your under garments with it too, leaving you completely naked.kissing a trail down your body he lifts your hips up a little to make you comfortable as he licks a stripe down your pussy

“ oh my god chenle” you moan, he smiles at you before diving completely into your heat, sucking at your clit you arch your back, lacing your fingers into his hair he pulls you forward flicking his tongue back and forth.you feel your orgasm building up, “ babe i’m coming” you scream as you release all over his face.you lay there catching your breath, for the first time in a very long time you felt content in the bedroom, for the first time in months he actually made you finish.chenle takes one if your legs lifting it onto his shoulder as he places his other hand on your waist, thrusting into you “ oh my god babe you’re so wet for me” he says as your hands grip the bedsheets, he flips you around arching your back for him he slams into you again with no warning, earning screams from you.continuously hitting your g spot you feel yourself about to cum again

“ chenle im gonna cum” you cry

“ wait for a little longer babe i want to come together”chenle has you a squirming mess under him, he has to keep one hand on your lower back keeping you arched as the other one is on your waist.

“ lele i cant hold it anymore please” is you beg

“ be a good girl y/n, i’m almost there” squeezing your eyes shut he turns you around again

“ look at me baby i wanna see you when we cum” chenle takes both of your legs bending them into your chest as he thrusts as hard as he can,his trusts become sloppy as he lets low groans out of his mouth.

“ fuck baby you ready” he asks

“ yes yes please”

“ cum for me babygirl” he demands as you both finish at the same time.chenle collapses onto you, not taking himself out of you yet.

“ fuck baby that was so good” he whispers kissing your neck

“ that’s the best sex we’ve had in so long” you smile

“ i know love, we definitely needed that”taking himself out of you he cleans you up and joins you back in bed.

“ i love you so much sweet girl, i promise we will make it through this rough patch” he kisses your forehead.

“ i know we will lele, i love you too”

** a year later**

you and chenle did end up going to couples therapy and it has changed your relationship for the better.you two haven’t gotten into fights since, you are in the honeymoon stage all over again, and let’s just say you two can’t stay off of eachother, you feel like teenagers again.the romance has sparked in your relationship again and it has never felt better.

you were currently joining him on his europe leg of his tour. waking up next to your man every morning in a new place had been a dream come true.today you were in paris , chenle had soundcheck and dance practice but other than that you had the night to yourselves since his show wasn’t until tomorrow.you stayed in bed most of the day catching up on rest until you receive a text from your boyfriend telling you he made dinner reservations tonight and to dress fancy.

you quickly got up and started getting ready.a few hours later you were finally ready as chenle made his way to pick you up.he was dressed in a nice white button down shirt and black slack pants, it took everything in you not to jump his bones right then are there.

the night was beautiful, he rented out the rooftop of a very fancy restaurant looking out onto the Eiffel Tower which shimmered every so often and had music playing soft instrumentals.you were left speechless.chenle however seemed a little nervous and quieter than usual.

finishing up your dinner you looked to your boyfriend.

“ chenle this is amazing really, thank you so much”

“ you deserve everything and more my love” he kisses your hand. you smile at him as he falls quiet again.he clears his throat.

“ let’s go look at the view huh” he suggests. he walks with you hand in hand as he leads you over to the edge of the rooftop.standing under a beautiful arch with vines and fairy lights you look at the Eiffel Tower in awe.

“ it’s so beautiful chenle, i’m never going to forget this moment” you turn to him and notice he’s not beside you anymore.confused you turn around to find him kneeling down on one knee holding out a small box with a beautiful diamond ring in it.

you gasp covering your mouth with your hands as tears stream down your cheeks.

“ y/n i have loved you from the moment i met you, never in my lifetime have i experienced a love greater than yours, we’ve been through so much together, i know that we can face whatever the world throws at us as long as we are together, i love you more than words can describe you have my whole heart, you have changed my life and i will forever be so grateful, through good seasons and bad i will always be by your side, i can not wait for our future together. (your full name) will you marry me?”

“ yes a million times yes” you say without hesitation as he slides the ring onto your finger pulling you into a kiss. you wrap your arms around his neck embracing him tightly.

“ i know we already promised forever a long time ago but i thought a big shiny ring would be a nice touch” chenle jokes as he kisses you again.

“ i cant wait to spend the rest of my life with you zhong chenle.”

—————————————————————————thank you for reading, i hope you enjoy!!!