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nvmadic · 1 year

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GUILT AND SHAME - 01

synopsis: after a messy dispute revolving around your toxic boyfriend, schlatt takes matters into his own hands and puts your safety over his. some feelings are unearthed that need dealing with. words: 7,130 warnings: drinking, toxic relationship, fighting, mild language notes: she/her pronouns used + reader wearing a dress

As you stood in front of the mirror, admiring the image of a confident and beautiful version of yourself, your boyfriend's voice cut through your thoughts like a sharp knife. His words dripped with disappointment and disapproval, making your heart sink. "I don't think I like this one," he said, his face twisted with a frown as he examined your dress. The underlying sense of dissatisfaction etched on his face made you feel self-conscious, and you suddenly became aware of how much skin the dress exposed. He sat at the edge of the bed, watching you with an exasperated glare, while you tried to hide the insecurity creeping up inside you. Your smile vanished in a split second, and your confidence evaporated into thin air, like a mist that disappeared under the harsh light of reality. His words hit you like a ton of bricks, shattering your self-assurance into a million pieces.

"You've already made me try on ten different dresses, I think this one's okay," you replied, unable to suppress the underlying frustration in your voice. You didn't want to waste any more time trying on different outfits that he would just criticize anyway. Examining yourself in the mirror once more, you noticed that he was still watching you, his eyes scanning your body as if he owned it. The possessive glint in his eyes made you feel wanted and desired and was somewhat endearing. He stood up, his eyes softening as he leaned in to brush a rogue strand of hair away from your face. "I just don't want people to be admiring what's mine," he stated with a smile, his fingertips grazing your face as he intently admired you.

As the notification pinged on his phone, he reluctantly pulled himself from the comfort of your bed, watching you bustle around your bedroom to gather your things. His tone was innocent enough, but there was a subtle edge to his question that you couldn't ignore. "Who's coming tonight?" he asked, his voice showing a hint of suspicion. You shrugged, not wanting to dwell on the possibility that he was trying to control who you spent time with. "Not sure, just a lot of people," you replied, your keys jingled as your locked your front door and placed them into your purse. A soft sigh escaped his lips as he opened the car door for you, his hand gently guiding you towards the waiting car. "Well, then I'll just have to stay with you to make sure I don't lose you," he whispered in your ear, his breath tickling your skin. Despite the unease in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of warmth at his words; it was a sweet enough gesture.

Nestling into the backseat of the Uber, the scent of the leather seats and the gentle hum of the engine did little to quell the knot of nervousness that had formed in your stomach. The bright lights of the city flashed by in a blur, casting fleeting shadows that seemed to add to your unease. The noise of honking cars and bustling crowds filled your ears, drowning out your thoughts and leaving you feeling on edge. Despite your boyfriend's hand resting on your thigh, you couldn't help but feel a sense of apprehension, as if you were walking into an unknown and potentially dangerous situation. The ride seemed to last forever, each passing moment bringing you closer to your destination and your mounting anxiety.

As you emerged from the car, the frigid night air nipped at your cheeks, sending a shiver down your spine. It wasn't just the chilly temperature that made you quiver, however, you knew he had a tendency towards jealousy, and the mere possibility of confrontation made your stomach churn. The air was thick with the sound of laughter and music, and the atmosphere hummed with palpable excitement, but it was tempered by a creeping sense of unease. You took a deep breath, hoping to calm the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, as you ascended the front steps. The porch light illuminated the faces of the partygoers, casting eerie shadows that seemed to flicker and dance in the night. You scanned the crowd, but you couldn't spot anyone you knew yet. Your boyfriend's hand pressed firmly on your back, directing you towards the entrance, and you couldn't help but feel both relieved and apprehensive.

As you stepped into the party, the atmosphere engulfed you like a tidal wave of energy. The pungent smell of alcohol, sweat, and cologne hung heavily in the air as if daring you to navigate through the throngs of strangers. The music thumped loudly, making it difficult to hear your own thoughts. You scanned the crowd, noting the faces of unknown individuals in various states of intoxication. The cacophony of voices melded into a blur of sound, leaving you feeling like an outsider in a sea of conviviality. But then, your boyfriend's voice broke through the clamour, drawing you back to reality, "I'm going to go and get us some drinks don't go too far." He gave you a tender peck on the cheek and disappeared into the chaos. His cologne lingered in the air, a bittersweet reminder of his presence, leaving you feeling more isolated in the crowd. Nonetheless, your boyfriend was never one to leave you to your own devices for long.

Startled and caught off guard, you were momentarily frightened until a sudden, overwhelming wave of perfume assaulted your senses. An arm wrangled over your shoulder, pulling you back into a tight embrace with a forceful tug. The pulsating music thudded through the floor, reverberating through your chest as you strained to hear over the deafening noise of the party. Despite being in such close proximity that you could feel her hot breath on your neck, the words QT spoke were barely audible, lost in the cacophony of the crowd. As you turned to face her, you couldn't help but notice the warmth of her smile and the twinkle in her eyes that spoke volumes of the genuine happiness she felt at seeing you. You felt a pang of guilt, realizing that it had been months since you last saw her due to both of your busy schedules. However, you pushed the feeling aside, reminding yourself that you were together now, and that's all that mattered. You spoke for a while, lost in each other's company until you suddenly became aware of your empty hands and your sobriety. With a final goodbye, you set off on a quest to find your elusive boyfriend, disappearing into the sea of people once more.

As you made your way through the chaotic party, you couldn't help but marvel at how many people were crammed into one house. It was a true testament to your friend's social prowess. Pushing your way through the thick crowd, you couldn't avoid brushing against strangers who seemed completely unaware of their surroundings, It was tough to keep your balance amidst the groups of guests. It was like you were a tiny boat trying to stay afloat in a raging sea. Suddenly, someone who was clearly in as much of a hurry to get somewhere as you were, crashed into you. You stumbled and almost fell, but you simply just toppled into them as they barely budged, their tall sturdy figure acting as a cushion.

Grinning playfully, they jested, "Seems like you've had one too many, huh?" You stammered out a series of apologies, straightening your dress and composing yourself. Finally meeting Schlatt's gaze, you saw his brow raised and a mischievous grin on his lips. "You seem pretty sober," he observed, scrutinizing you with his eyes for a moment longer than necessary. He then took a swig from his bottle of honey-coloured beer, the liquid sloshing around inside. "I just got here," you explained as he finished his drink. "Why didn't you dress up?" you asked, looking at his casual attire of khakis, a sweater, and a cap, whilst everyone else was wearing something smart casual. He simply shrugged. "I'm not sure if I'll be sticking around long enough to bother dressing up," he replied, toying with the empty glass in his hand. You nodded in understanding, but as you tried to catch his eye, you noticed that he was scanning the crowd intently as if searching for someone or something.

As you spoke, his eyes softened and he half-smiled, "Have you lost someone?" you inquired. "No," he replied simply, his voice low and mellow, "I just didn't realize it had gotten this busy in here," he said, but his eyes told a different story. Despite the discrepancy, you didn't press the matter. Schlatt fiddled with the bottle in his hand, then looked up at you, "You look nice, by the way," he complimented you, causing a warm glow to spread through you. Almost immediately, though, you felt guilty for enjoying it. "Thanks," you replied coyly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. "I'm thinking maybe I should have dressed up now you're making me feel underdressed," he admitted with a hint of self-deprecation. In an attempt to lighten the mood, you jested, "You look alright, I suppose." His expressions softened, and he chuckled softly, "Alright," he mimicked you, "I'll take it, I guess." You both laughed, the sound barely audible over the jarring noise of the crowd. It was only then that you noticed how close you were standing to him. The heat radiating from his body almost touched yours, and the air between you was charged with a strange energy.

As a possessive grip took hold of your hips, you were pulled in by your boyfriend's confident demeanour. With a cocky grin spread across his face and two bottles gripped tightly in his hands, it was as if he was asserting his dominance over the situation. His tug towards him seemed like a demonstration of his control, and his conceited expression was an unmistakable display of his authority. The pull on your body was forceful as if to flaunt his power for all to see, especially Schlatt. The arrogance emanating from him was tangible, and he seemed to relish in his superiority. Schlatt's cheerful demeanour withered, not just from the sight of you being held like a predator with its prey, but from his appearance alone.

As he planted a lingering kiss on your cheek, your boyfriend's grip on your hips tightened. "I got your drink, babe," he declared with a hint of aggression, thrusting the glass bottle into your hand. In his eagerness, he spilt some of the golden liquid onto the floor. Schlatt's face twisted into an expression of revulsion, but he quickly concealed it, not wanting to give your boyfriend the satisfaction. "I'll see you around," he said before disappearing into the mob of people. Your annoyance was written all over your face, and your boyfriend's raised eyebrows only added to it. He took a sip of his beer as he asked what bothered you. With a soft tone, you chided him, "We were just talking. What was the need for that?" You toyed with the bottle in your hand, hesitant to start drinking. The bitterness of the beer only seemed to match the sourness of your mood.

With an air of superiority, your boyfriend justified his possessiveness with a condescending explanation. "I know how men operate, I don't trust him around you when he's drunk," he stated as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. The suggestion that Schlatt would do something untoward in his inebriated state was absurd, and you couldn't help but recoil at the implication. A scoff escaped your lips as you took a step back, looking at him with disdain. "I can't believe you just said that," you retorted, feeling a wave of anger washing over you, "I'm not your fuckin' pet," you added firmly. Your words were like a cold bucket of water thrown in his face, and your boyfriend's expression quickly turned from anger to surprise. He seemed taken aback by your assertiveness, and you could see the gears turning in his head as he struggled to come up with a response. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke. "I'm sorry," he apologised, his voice low and contrite, "I didn't mean to imply that I don't trust you. It's just that... well, you're so beautiful, and I get jealous sometimes. I don't want to lose you." His tone was apologetic, sincere and filled with love but you'd already heard this a thousand times before and it was the final straw, and quite honestly hearing the words come from his lips made you feel nauseous.

Just as tensions were running high, QT arrived, almost as if on cue. Brazenly, she walked over to you and linked her arm with yours, gently tugging you away from your boyfriend who stood in shock. "Come with me to the bathroom, I need you to help me with my dress," she said softly, her tone a welcome relief from the heated argument. Without looking back, you allowed her to guide you through the sea of people towards the bathroom. Finding a quiet space, away from the chaos of the party, QT guided you to a room and shut the door behind her. Her voice was soft and genuine as she asked, "Is everything okay?" She had been watching and was clearly concerned, as she noticed the tears brimming in your eyes. You felt the tears threatening to spill over as you tried to hold back your emotions, but the concern in her eyes was enough to break your resolve. You let out a shaky breath before pouring out everything that had happened between you and your boyfriend, including the incident with Schlatt. Her lack of surprise was not unexpected, as she had always made her disapproval of how your boyfriend treated you known. Despite her concerns, she respected your decisions and allowed you to make your own choices, as long as you were happy. She agreed to stay nearby and keep an eye out for him, ensuring that he wouldn't be able to approach you until you had calmed down enough to make your own decision on what you wanted to do. Despite her own strong opinions on the matter, she made it clear that she would support whatever decision you made regarding your relationship with him.

As you opened the door to the party, the wave hit you once more. The overwhelming amalgamation of booze and perfumes hit your nostrils and wasn't quite as nauseating as it once was before, you gingerly sipped at your drink and followed your protector to a small group of people out of the way of the main crowd, a quieter place where you could actually hear your own thoughts and not worry about being caught in a stampede. As you joined the group, you recognized a few familiar faces and greeted them with a small smile. You noticed that your boyfriend was nowhere to be seen, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of relief mixed with guilt. You didn't want to cause a scene or ruin anyone's night, but you couldn't shake off the unsettling feeling in your gut. The group chatted and laughed, and for a moment, you forgot about your troubles. However, as the night progressed, the alcohol flowed freely, and the energy of the party grew wilder, you finally began to loosen up as it felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

It was half an hour to midnight, and you had drank a decent amount of alcohol, enough to the point where you were decently inebriated but you were still very capable. Veering off from the group you were with, you ventured into the crowd to find a toilet. Unavoidably, there was a queue of a few people waiting. The amount of alcohol you had consumed made your abdomen ache, had you been sober you would have been fine, it's almost as if drinking beer shrank your bladder. As you waited in line, you couldn't help but feel a bit anxious about being alone once more in the crowded party. You glanced around nervously, noticing how people were becoming more intoxicated as the night wore on. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you turned to see Schlatt standing behind you, a look of concern on his face. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked as he leaned in, his voice loud enough to be heard over the music. You felt a sense of relief wash over you as you recognized his familiar face. "Yeah, just waiting for the bathroom," you replied, smiling gratefully at him. Schlatt nodded.

"You decided to stay then?" You asked, surprised that he hadn't silently disappeared into the night. He smiled as he thought to himself, "I don't really have anything better to be doing," he stated indifferently. Schlatt's face had a drunken glow as he beamed down at you, his expression calm almost as if he did not have a care in the world. You nodded attentively, not wanting to engage in too much conversation with him as you weren't too sure where your boyfriend was. However, Schlatt seemed intent on talking and began to ramble about various topics, from the latest video games to politics. You found yourself nodding along, trying to be polite, but your mind was elsewhere. As you stood there, waiting for your turn, you couldn't help but think about your relationship with your boyfriend. His possessive behaviour and lack of trust had been slightly bothering you for a while now, but you had always tried to ignore it, hoping that things would get better. But tonight, his behaviour had crossed a line and you knew that you couldn't continue like this. Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed when it was your turn to use the bathroom. As you finally entered the bathroom, you couldn't help but wonder if maybe it was time to reevaluate your relationship.

Finally making your way back to the group after manoeuvring the crowd, it was close enough to midnight that people were soon beginning to count down. You couldn't help but feel a knot in your stomach as everyone else was, you should be standing arm in arm with your boyfriend preparing for a New Year's kiss, but here you were alone. In the midst of the crowd, you noticed a very familiar face who appeared to be extremely drunk; hair dishevelled, clothes ruffled and extremely sloppy looking. It was your boyfriend. Similar to the feeling of going down a slope on a rollercoaster, your stomach dropped when you noticed he was arm-in-arm with another woman. You didn't need to question him any further as on further inspection, he had lipstick marks smeared on his face. Your heart sank as you watched him laughing with her, his hands firmly planted on her hips just like he did to you only a few hours ago. You could feel an interminable amount of anger brewing from within.

He managed to lock eyes with you through the crowd, it was like time slowed down and everything went painfully slow for you to witness. Admittedly, you were hoping for his face to be overwhelmed with a shock that you had caught him, but instead, he just grinned and pulled her closer, his hands wandering her body as if he had done this before, a sense of familiarity. Your heart sank even further as you realized that he didn't even care that you had caught him in the act. It was as if he didn't even have the decency to feel ashamed or guilty. Anger boiled inside you as you watched him continue to flaunt his infidelity in front of you. As the countdown began and the crowd started shouting "3, 2, 1!", he pulled her close and vigorously pressed his lips onto hers, a prolonged kiss to further punish you. Your anger turned into hurt and betrayal as you watched the kiss. You felt like you were drowning in a sea of emotions, unable to process everything that was happening. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause as the new year began, but you were oblivious to it all. All you could focus on was the pain of being cheated on and the realization that the person you loved didn't love you back. The betrayal stung, and you wondered how you could have been so blind to not see the signs earlier. He was just projecting everything onto you, and how could someone so obsessed with his girlfriend cheat on her?

Your heart was pounding as you made your way through the sea of people, your eyesight blurry from the tears that wouldn't stop falling. The once festive atmosphere of the party was now suffocating, making it hard to breathe. You just had to get out of there, away from the suffocating atmosphere and the memories that now felt tainted. As you pushed your way through the crowd, the sound of music and laughter ringing in your ears, you felt tears streaming down your face, unchecked and unstoppable. You tried to keep your head down, to avoid the curious gazes of strangers who might wonder what was wrong with you, but it was impossible. You were a mess, a wreck, a walking disaster. It was then that you bumped into Ludwig, his smiling face a sudden intrusion in the midst of your pain. He asked what was wrong, his concern evident in his voice, and you wanted to lash out at him, to scream and curse and blame him for your misery. But you couldn't. He was innocent, and he was trying to help.

As you stepped outside, the cold night air hit you like a slap in the face, the sudden change in temperature causing you to shiver uncontrollably. You glanced up at the sky, taking in the burst of colours and sparkles that illuminated the darkness above you, the fireworks painting a beautiful but surreal scene in the otherwise quiet night. The loud booms echoed in your ears, making you feel even more disoriented and lost. You tried to take a deep breath, but your lungs felt constricted as if the reality of the situation was suffocating you. The sound of the party faded into the background as you struggled to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. Ludwig's voice broke through the silence, calling out to you with a note of panic in his voice. You turned around to see him hurrying towards you, his expression etched with concern. "Wait," he called out again, trying to catch up to you. His footsteps echoed on the pavement, the sound of them reminding you of how alone you felt at that moment. Suddenly, the sight of Schlatt getting into an Uber caught your attention. You were surprised to see him there, as you had presumed that he had gone home. He turned his head in your direction, his eyes widening as he noticed the commotion.

The bitter night air chilled you to the bone as you stood there, the warmth from the party now a distant memory. The glow from the fireworks continued to paint the sky in vibrant colours, adding an eerie beauty to the bleak scene. You could feel the weight of your heartache crushing your chest, making it difficult to breathe. As Schlatt approached, his imposing figure seemed to loom over you, but his gentle demeanour and genuine concern helped ease the tension. It was comforting to have someone there who seemed to understand, even if he didn't know the details of what had happened. Ludwig appeared grateful for Schlatt's intervention, stepping back to give him space to approach you. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your quiet sobs. Schlatt's concern was palpable, and it was clear that he wanted to help in any way he could. You could see his mind working, trying to come up with a way to ease your pain.

Your boyfriend's slurred words were punctuated with the sound of his heavy breathing and the clacking of his shoes on the pavement as he emerged from the house, furious. The sharp scent of alcohol emanated from him as he stumbled closer, his eyes bloodshot and wild with anger. As he spoke, flecks of spittle flew from his mouth, landing on his chin and shirt. The atmosphere around you was heavy with tension, the air seeming to thicken with each passing moment. You could hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears as you braced yourself for whatever might come next. "It's what you deserved, you bitch!" Exclaimed your drunk boyfriend as he began to stumble through the front door and down the drive, almost falling on his face in the process. At that point, the two boys stood beside you and connected the dots. "And what a surprise to see you here," he growled drunkenly as he looked at Schlatt, his eyes blazing with fury. Schlatt's response was calm and measured. "It's no surprise to me," he said evenly. "I was invited." The tension in the air was palpable as your boyfriend wavered for a moment, seeming to consider his options.

Your boyfriend's words were filled with bitterness and accusation, his voice heavy with rage as he stumbled towards you. "I see the way you look at her, I'm not stupid," he hissed through gritted teeth. "Why are you so hurt? I should be the one that's hurt," he continued, his violent words spewing out of his mouth like venom as he tried to play the victim. With each step he took, his breath became more erratic, and his anger more palpable. "I wouldn't be surprised if you two had been fucking behind my back," he accused, his eyes blazing with fury. "So why am I in the wrong for doing the same?" The accusation hung heavily in the air, casting a dark cloud over the three of you as you stood frozen in shock and disbelief.

"You need to leave," Schlatt's voice was eerily calm, though you could see the anger in his eyes. As he spoke, you could hear the muffled whispers and murmurs of the partygoers gathering around, drawn by the commotion outside. Their curious faces peered out from the windows, and some even emerged from the door to get a better view. The sudden attention made you feel exposed and vulnerable as if every mistake you had ever made was on display for everyone to see. The embarrassment you felt was overwhelming, and you wished you could just disappear. Your mind was a jumbled mess of emotions and thoughts, and it was difficult to even process what was happening. The ground beneath your feet felt unstable as if it could give way at any moment, and you struggled to keep your balance as you stood there, trying to make sense of it all. "Make me," your boyfriend violently spat as he was now within arm's length, the vile smell of alcohol emanating from his mouth. Your boyfriend's words were slurred and aggressive as he stepped even closer, his body tense and ready for a fight. Schlatt stood his ground, his face a mask of anger and frustration, but he didn't move to physically engage with the drunk man. You could feel the tension in the air reaching its peak, as partygoers continued to gather around the scene, murmurs and whispers rippling through the crowd. Your boyfriend's hot breath on your face was suffocating, and you felt a mix of fear and disgust as he continued to spew venomous words. "Make me," he repeated, his eyes narrowing as he seemed to be daring Schlatt to take action. It was clear that things could escalate quickly and you prayed for a peaceful resolution to the situation.

You couldn't help but feel torn between the desire to leave and the morbid fascination with what might unfold, almost as if you were watching a scene from a movie. Schlatt's unyielding presence was like a beacon of hope, his steadfast defence of you a reassuring reminder that not all men were like your drunken boyfriend. Your boyfriend's face twisted into a mask of rage, his fists clenched tightly as he took a step forward, challenging Schlatt to a fight. Schlatt's own fists were balled up, his jaw set in determination, but he didn't move from his spot. Instead, he held your gaze for a moment, a silent message passing between the two of you.

All of a sudden, your boyfriend, his face twisted with anger and drunkenness, had thrown a sloppy punch at Schlatt. In that split second, you could see the fear on Schlatt's face as he defensively pushed your boyfriend back. The suddenness of the violence caught you off guard, and your mind raced as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. As you watched in horror, the situation quickly escalated. Schlatt and your boyfriend were now locked in a violent struggle, their bodies entangled as they threw punches and grappled with each other. Your boyfriend's movements were clumsy and uncoordinated, fueled by the alcohol coursing through his system. Schlatt, on the other hand, seemed to have sobered up and was more agile than the inebriated mess in front of him. He stood his ground and dodged some of your boyfriend's drunken blows.

You stood there frozen, unsure of what to do as the fight continued to escalate. The chaotic scene unfolding in front of you made it difficult to keep track of the action. The air was thick with the sounds of fists striking flesh, grunts of pain, and desperate gasps for air combined with the screaming and shouting of the watchful party attendees. You could see the sweat dripping down the faces of both men, their breathing laboured as they continued to exchange blows. It was like watching a train wreck in slow motion, every movement amplified, every punch landing with a sickening thud. The anger and frustration in your boyfriend's eyes were palpable, and you knew that he wasn't going to give up easily. You felt a wave of anxiety wash over you, and you desperately searched the crowd for someone who could help. Your boyfriend's movements were sluggish and uncoordinated, his punches lacking any real force or precision. It was clear that he was inebriated and not in control of his actions. Schlatt, on the other hand, had sobered up quickly, and his movements were calculated and precise.

Without hesitating, Ludwig quickly made his way through the crowd of party guests towards the brawl. As he reached the two men, he grabbed your boyfriend from behind, pinning his arms to his sides, and pulled him away from Schlatt. Schlatt stumbled backwards, momentarily disoriented, before regaining his footing and stepping back, his hands raised in a defensive posture. Your boyfriend continued to struggle in Ludwig's grip, his face contorted with rage as he tried to break free. The sudden shift in the situation caught the attention of the other party guests, and several of them rushed over to help. Together, they managed to hold your boyfriend down and calm him down, while Ludwig and another guest escorted him out of the way. You turned to Schlatt, who was still catching his breath and offered him a hand to help him up. He took it gratefully, his expression a mix of relief and anger.

The sound of your voice was barely audible, barely above a whisper, as you managed to utter the two words, "I'm sorry." The weight of guilt and shame felt heavy upon you, causing tears to stream down your face. Your heart ached with regret, and you wished with every fibre of your being that you could turn back time and undo the events that had unfolded. You wished you had never attended the party, that you had stayed home instead. The words felt inadequate to express the depth of your remorse, but they were all you could muster at that moment. You lowered your gaze, unable to meet his eyes, consumed by the overwhelming sense of guilt that washed over you. "It's not your fault," Schlatt muttered hoarsely, his voice strained from the struggle, as you continued to stare at your feet, not wanting to look at his bruised face. His words brought you little comfort, as you still felt responsible for the chaos that had erupted.

After Schlatt had reassured you, the silence between the two of you was heavy, as you both struggled to come to terms with the violent events that had just unfolded. Finally, you mustered the courage to look up at Schlatt, his face now slightly discoloured and bloody from the fight. You asked him, "Are you okay?" Your voice was barely audible, still trembling from the shock of what had happened. Schlatt nodded, it seemed as if he was in more shock than pain despite the way his face was blemished with the lingering stains of the punches.

His face was still bloodied, you couldn't really help but notice how his brows furrowed, and how the moonlight accentuated his prominent features. Pulling you from a trance, "Let me take you home." Schlatt insisted, wiping his nose from the red liquid that was still slowly dripping. You were so close to just insisting that he go home himself as you had already gotten him in enough trouble but you secretly craved his company. You shyly nodded, turning around to your surprise to see that Schlatt's Uber was still parked on the curb, the driver obviously getting engrossed in all of the chaos that unfolded.

Schlatt opened the door for you and helped you into the back seat, careful not to get any blood on you. As he got in beside you, you couldn't help but notice how close he was sitting. You could feel his warmth radiating off him, and the scent of his cologne was intoxicating. Despite the events of the night, being this close to him was comforting in a way that you couldn't quite explain. As the engine purred as the car pulled away from the curb, you stole a glance at Schlatt. Schlatt seemed lost in thought, his eyes staring blankly out the window. You wondered what he was thinking about, whether he was regretting the events of the night or if he was simply lost in his own world. You noticed the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his muscles tense with a quiet intensity. It was clear that he was still processing everything that had happened that night,

s you sat in the car, the silence felt like a welcome respite from the chaos of the night. You took a deep breath and leaned your head against the window, watching the city lights pass by in a blur. The rhythmic sound of the car engine provided a sense of comfort, but as you neared your apartment building, a feeling of unease began to bubble up inside you. You didn't want to venture out alone, not with the silence being a microphone for your own horrible thoughts.

After a moment of hesitation, you turned to Schlatt and asked softly, "Do you want to come in?" His surprise was evident as he swivelled his head towards you, a glint in his eyes. His response was just as soft, still laced with the daze of the night, "Sure." As you got out of the car and made your way to the entrance of the building, fumbling with your keys as he stood behind you. As you slowly made your way to your apartment door, you couldn't help but feel a wave of comfort knowing he was with you. It was nice to know how he didn't push for conversation and just followed you quietly. Once inside, your numbed body collapsed onto the couch as you let out a deep sigh, not even having bothered to turn on the lights, the darkness was almost a comfort in itself.

As Schlatt followed you in, he lingered by the doorway of the hallway, looking around at the surroundings that were shrouded in a veil of darkness, taking in what he could of his new surroundings. "Are you okay?" He asked, which amused you slightly, knowing it was a silly question but his heart was in the right place. "I just," you stammered, staring into space, "I just don't know." But unlike your boyfriend, you knew you didn't need to give him a concise answer as he understood you, he always had. It was clear that he didn't want to bring up the wrong thing or say something that would upset you even further, so he remained silent. It was so quiet you could hear his fingers comb through the facial hair on his cheeks, even being able to hear his weight shifting from one leg to the other as the floorboards creaked.

"Was he right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. The question had been nagging at you all night, and you couldn't keep it bottled up any longer. Schlatt's silence made your heart race as you awaited his response. He leaned against the doorway, his features illuminated by the soft glow of the streetlights outside. "Was he ever right about anything?" he finally replied, his tone cold and dismissive. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, grateful that he was on your side. But as you held his gaze, doubts crept in, and you wondered if he was just saying what you wanted to hear. You didn't want to push him further, knowing he had already been through enough that night. So you remained silent, letting the conversation come to a natural end.

Schlatt finally straightened himself and wandered off into your apartment, his footsteps heavy and concise as he began to explore. You watched as he took in his surroundings with a curious gaze, his eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other. He seemed lost in thought as he wandered through the living room and into the kitchen, the fridge door swinging open with a creak followed by a faint buzz of static. You couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort wash over you as you listened to the sound of him rummaging through your fridge, the clinking of glass bottles and the rustling of plastic containers filling the silence of the apartment.

As he settled onto the couch, you noticed how he winced as he shifted his weight, indicating that he was probably still in pain. His eyes looked tired, and his movements were slow and deliberate. He handed you the bottle of water with a gentle grip, careful not to spill any of it, and you eagerly took a long gulp of the refreshing liquid, feeling the coolness of it spread throughout your body. Meanwhile, Schlatt had retrieved a bag of frozen vegetables from your freezer and was now holding it to his swollen face. You couldn't help but wince at the sight, still feeling guilty for dragging him into the mess that had transpired earlier. "Thanks for this," you said, gesturing towards the water bottle. Schlatt simply nodded in response, his eyes closed as he leaned his head back against the couch with an exhausted exhale. You leaned your head back as well, feeling the exhaustion begin to wash over you.

As the silence stretched on, your mind raced as you replayed the events of the night over and over again. You couldn't help but notice the way Schlatt had complimented you, how his gaze had lingered just a little too long. Was it all in your head, or did he feel something too? The possibility made your heart race, but you quickly tried to quell those thoughts, knowing that it was probably just wishful thinking on your part. The sound of his breathing next to you was a comforting presence, but at the same time, it only made you more aware of the thoughts swirling in your head.

Your hand felt heavy as if it was filled with lead, but you couldn't stop yourself from inching it closer to him. Your fingers trembled as they delicately danced towards his thigh, almost as if they were detached from your brain. You knew it was a bad idea, but the temptation was too strong to ignore. His eyes met yours as he looked at you with a mix of emotions, and you couldn't help but wonder what was going through his mind. His hand moved to yours, his fingers interlocking with yours, and a gentle warmth radiated from his touch. You both sat there for what felt like an eternity, lost in the moment, with nothing but the sound of your breathing and the beating of your heart to fill the silence, but as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone. He pulled away abruptly, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. He averted his gaze, frustration etched onto his features, and you could feel your heart sink at the sudden shift in mood.

He announced, his tone slightly chagrined, "I think you're confused." He paused for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words before continuing, "I want you to be sure of what you're doing before you start messing with my feelings," he admitted. His eyes held a mix of vulnerability and caution as he looked at you, waiting for your response. You couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt and uncertainty, realizing that you might have been acting impulsively without considering the potential consequences. You sat there, nodding slowly in agreement, the weight of his words sinking in. Deep down, you knew he was right, and you had to come to terms with your own feelings before potentially hurting him. It was easy to get caught up in the moment, especially when you had been longing for this kind of attention for so long. But you couldn't deny the nagging doubts that lingered in the back of your mind.

"I should probably head home," he said, groaning as he stood up from the couch. His eyes seemed unusually gentle as he looked down at you, almost as if he felt a tinge of regret for leaving you in this state. "Take all the time you need," he added, "and get some rest." You watched in silence as he moved around the apartment, returning the frozen vegetables to the freezer and making his way towards the front door. He paused for a moment, turning to give you a brief but meaningful "goodnight" before disappearing into the darkness.

link to the rest of my work [x]

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt x you #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader #schlatt x you #chuckle sandwich #chucklesandwich #x reader #female reader #x female reader #schlagg #angst #slow burn #hurt/comfort #fanfiction #friends to lovers #guilt and shame

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showf4lls · 2 years

Note

Saw your post asking for ted requests SO HERE IT IS!

prompt: head canons for: making up after an argument. like post-angst fluff, how would they apologise, makeup to the reader, etc.

( if you could do the full chuckle sandwich boys+ wilbur, that would be pretty cool. And if not, still cool)

― the come down; various

cw + info! angst, hurt/comfort?, fluff [not really but i tried], minifics / implied fighting, the boys are a little insensitive sorry

includes! ted nivison + charlie slimecicle + jschlatt + wilbur soot

notes! sorry, this turned out a little more angsty than i intended, but i hope you enjoy! it’s more hurt/comfort than fluff, my bad homies :/. i’ve also decided that i’m writing these minifics and then i’m putting out fluffier headcanons to go along with this because i don’t feel like these fill the actual request :> also when you fight with your partner, you should probably sit down and talk about it, not just say sorry and move on, i just didn’t know how to write that conversation so my bad y’all

TED NIVISON

it’s like dropping a nuke; the big bang before the smoke clears, and then, silence. you can’t bring yourself to look at him, lips curved downwards and eyes watery. and he watches with careful, wide eyes, mouth hanging open on his words. then you make to leave the room, quietly maneuvering around him. he turns to you, making to set a hand on your shoulder, warm the icy facade he’d been responsible for creating, but you dodge, stepping just out of reach. “ted, please,” you hiss, voice quivering. barely holding it together.

and ted's hand falls back to his side. head drops, and he gives a single, understanding nod. without another word, you hole up in the guest bathroom, face buried in your sleeve.

ted waits. knows it’s important that you both have your space. to process, to cool off, to come down. he gives you time despite the magnetic pull behind his sternum. sits with his head in his hands as his mind lingers on how hurt you looked. how that had been because of him.

after a while, he moves to sit outside the bathroom door, legs folded against his chest, listening. making sure you’re not hurting too bad. and he waits. waits until he’s sure you’re ready.

he stands. quells the shaking in his fingers by curling them into a loose fist. raps them against the door so softly he hadn’t been entirely sure you would hear him - i mean, he didn’t want to scare you after all, you had every right to be upset with him after what he’d said-

and the door falls open to reveal you. teary eyes, hair messy from combing through it, cheeks red. and he wants to cry all over again. “god, y/n, i’m so sorry.”

your laugh sounds awfully close to a sob, but the wobbly smile you give settles him. “ted-”

“can i please just hug you?” he breathes. “hold you? just for a little bit.”

you stand for a moment, just watching him, before nodding your confirmation. “yeah,” you mumble, opening your arms.

ted scoops you up. squeezes you against his chest, peppers kisses over your head. “i’m so so sorry, i shouldn’t have said that-”

you shake your head. hum as you press your face against his heart, beating like a caged bird in his ribs. take fistfuls of his shirt in your hands and just hold him. “we were both way out of line.” you let him hum as he rubs circles into your back. “i’m sorry, too.”

both of you stand like that a while, taking a moment to just be present with one another. communicate without words how truly sorry you were and how much you love one another. ted, playing with your hair, is the first to speak. “i wanna make it up to you. i’m just so sorry.”

you pull back, frowning up at him. “i wanna make it up to you.”

“how about,” ted starts. “you go take a nice, warm shower while i get started on making dinner?”

you purse your lips, thinking. “only if we get to cuddle and have a movie night after - i know you’ve been wanting to watch that new film that came out on netflix.”

ted, raising his eyebrows, considers. “that does sound pretty nice.”

leaning up on your tiptoes, you resist the urge to giggle. “i’ll even make popcorn the way you like it,” you whisper.

“oh?” ted asks playfully.

you nod, the water eyes and the argument long forgotten. “deal?”

ted, nodding along, shakes your hand. “deal.”

CHARLIE SLIMECICLE

god he’s such an asshole. that comment was totally unwarranted, and then he’d had the audacity to laugh it off, as if it wouldn’t hurt you. now he sits on the other side of the door to your shared bedroom, listening to the love of his life cry. he’d never regretted anything so quickly.

after a good 20 minutes of silence, he opens the door. slips in quietly. he knows you’ve acknowledged him, the sound of shuffling clothes and now-muffled sniffles says as much. if his heart feels like a bruise in his chest - if it aches like this - he can’t even imagine how you feel. wordlessly, he slots himself behind you and wraps himself around you in the most i’m sorry hug he’s ever given. “is this okay right now?” he whispers, cheek against your shoulder.

and you cough out a sob behind the sleeve of your sweater and nod. relax a little where your knees are pulled to your chest in what had been an attempt to fold yourself into disappearance - into the nothing that grows in your ribs. and now charlie’s crying and you’re crying and god, does it feel good to just let him hold you. “hey,” he rasps. reaches for the hands that clutch at your knees, wraps his around your own, slots his fingers between your knuckles and squeezes. “i’m so sorry. i shouldn’t have said any of that, it wasn’t fair of me. it was completely unwarranted.”

and now he’s rambling and you can tell by the way his voice breaks that he’s hurting every bit as much as you are, that he’s really sorry and he would do anything to take it back. now he’s stumbling over his words and crying into your neck and rasping apology after apology against your skin. so you lean into him and everything slows down. i forgive you.

charlie lets out a wobbly breath. inhales deeply, pulling the trembling, wobbly parts of himself back together. focuses on his breathing, focuses on the warmth of you in his arms, focuses on the squeeze of your fingers against his. “i love you.”

you hum in return, wiping at a few final tears. “i love you,” you agree.

and you yelp when charlie rises suddenly, accidentally jostling you forward. he clambers onto the bed, pulling his shoes off while holding a hand out for you. “come here,” he mumbles, not bothering to hide his falling tears. “please, come here. i just want to hold you for a little while. if you don’t want to, that’s okay, but-”

without a word, you stand. shrug your sweater up your shoulders and lay down in the middle of the bed. you let him roll over beside you. let him scrunch you up and pull you into his chest. let him move up so you’re resting comfortably in the space below his chin. and you stay.

JSCHLATT

as soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d crossed a line. jaw clicking shut, silence blankets you and the both of you stare at one another incredulously. a lump sits in the back of your throat, but it doesn’t do anything to stop you from leveling him with a glare. “really, jay?”

ouch, that hurt. he watches almost helplessly as you cross your arms and make to leave the room. “y/n-”

you just shake your head, not turning around as you make your way to the backyard. and sure, it’s pretty chilly, but you don’t have it in you to sit inside with him right now.

schlatt is at a loss. he doesn’t know what to do with himself now that you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’re upset with him. he doesn’t know what to say, what to think. just knows that he hurt you.

it’s hard. he wants to do something, but he doesn’t know how to do feelings. how to hold his heart in his hands for you, vulnerable and sorry. and he is sorry, he’s just not good at the communication part. never been one for wearing his heart on his sleeve - it makes him feel just a little too exposed. he loves you, but god it would kill him to put himself somewhere vulnerable and deal with it if you decided to hurt him. but you didn’t, because why would you? no, he struck first, and now he had to fix it if he ever wanted you to look at him the same.

he sits on the bedroom floor, jambo sitting across from him, thinking out loud. spends so much time working it out that the sun has fallen below the horizon by the time he stands. hesitates by the back door, wringing his hands and fidgeting, eyes fixed on your back.

you sit on the steps of the back porch, half scrunched up. crossed arms rest on the tops of your knees, a clumsy rest for your chin, as you stare up at the few stars that dot the horizon, having found peace in the moon and her companions.

schlatt’s scared of startling you. tries his best to open the sliding door as quietly as possible, but it screams on its track. he winces, but you don’t move an inch. bad sign.

ever cautious, he moves to sit beside you, legs stretching almost to the bottom of the steps. looks over to spot dried tear tracks in the dim backyard light. his heart aches.

the silence is tense, shattered when you mumble without turning to look at him. “took you long enough.”

he lets out a surprised laugh, a hot puff of air from the back of his throat, before sobering up. a beat passes before he gathers his bearings enough to speak. “look, i never should’ve said those things, alright?” you level him with a blank stare, and he continues. “it was uncalled for and fucked up of me and i’m-” his voice cracks and he pauses, giving a frustrated huff. “and i’m really sorry. i really don’t like that i said those things to you, and not just because they upset you. it... it didn’t feel right saying that. i’m sorry.”

you sigh, letting yourself fall into his side. “i know.”

schlatt yelps, one arm flying up to catch you. he laughs a little when you dodge it, opting for the softness around his ribs as opposed to his bony shoulder. he looks down at you. lets his arm rest around your shoulders as he observes you. “you know?”

you hum an affirmative, craning your neck to peer up at him. “you’ve never looked more like a kicked puppy in all the time i’ve known you.”

he rolls his eyes, suddenly bashful. “oh shut up.” and you two sit, just a few minutes, staring up at the sky. the silence is a little too fuzzy for his liking still, so he nudges you just barely. “i am sorry, you know.”

silent, your hand moves up to find his lingering somewhere near your elbow. you thread your fingers together and squeeze, just light enough for him to be sure that’s what you’re doing, to be sure that you meant to. “i’m sorry too.”

“i don’t even remember what we were fighting about, if i’m being honest.”

you laugh against his side, sniffling. “neither do i.”

another beat. another nudge.

“so... are we good?”

you laugh again. turn your head to bury your face in his side. “we’re good, jay, don’t worry.”

WILBUR SOOT

it had started as a playful debate - you hadn’t even realized when it began to spiral out of control. now you’re both sitting across from each other, red in the face and practically steaming. “are you serious?” wilbur counters, sneering. “how would you even- come on, y/n. listen to yourself.”

“hey-” your breath catches in your throat and your lip wobbles. “i was being serious, wil.”

a tense moment of silence. you cross your arms tighter to your chest, eyes focused on the table between you. suddenly you stand. “y/n-” he starts.

“i’m going on a walk!” you call over your shoulder as you approach the front door. “and you are not coming with me.”

he half-stands, chair scraping backwards. “wait, are you sure you should go out this late? the sun’s-”

the front door slams behind you, effectively shutting down whatever he was going to say. unsure, he sits back down. laces his fingers together. then suddenly moves to the window, waits to watch you make your way down the street. he’d at least make sure you made it out of the building alright. then it’s back to the table, hands clasped, to figure out how to make this right.

the minutes tick on and anxiety begins to buzz in wilbur’s veins; not only had he not apologized yet, but you haven’t returned home. he sits a moment, knee bouncing, worrying his lip as the wheels turn in his head. he stares out the window, debating internally. on one hand, he should give you space. you’d set a healthy boundary with him to have your own space while you both cool down. on the other hand, the sun had set. the sky is darkening rapidly; every second that passes is light lost, and it’s supposed to be cold tonight. with a hum, he stands. shrugs a good jacket on and holds one of your sweaters in the crook of his elbow as he leaves the flat, locking the door behind himself. he’s descending the front steps when he finds you sitting at the bottom, arms against your chest, hunched over your knees. “y/n, love, it’s cold out. you should come inside-”

“i’m fine, wil,” you insist, not facing him.

he frowns. sure, he deserves it, but he doesn’t want you to force yourself to suffer for it. without a word, he drapes your sweater over your shoulders, taking the opportunity to sit beside you. though, you don’t acknowledge him, only glare out at the streetlights. it’s silent for a moment.

then you huff, dropping your head. “maybe my opinion was stupid.”

ouch. “no, not at all, love. i promise,” wilbur assures you, leaning some weight into you from the way he leans against your side. “i- look.” he faces you, not expecting you to face him. and you don’t, but he counts the tiny shift of your body towards his as a win. “i didn’t mean what i said. your opinion is just as valid as mine, i just lost my temper and i’m really sorry for that. it won’t happen again, i just- i’m so sorry y/n. i didn’t mean for things to go that way.”

you sigh and let yourself slump against him. “it’s alright, wil,” you mumble, reaching for his hand. he meets you halfway. watches as you lace your fingers with his, as you swipe your thumb against the back of his hand. “i supposed i wasn’t much better.” he opens his mouth to protest, but you shake your head when you hear him inhale. “it’s both our faults, i think. we both took it a bit too serious.”

the lightness of your tone eased some of the tension from his shoulders. “i guess you’re right.”

you elbow him halfheartedly, energy zapped. “i know i’m right.”

he smiles fondly. “yeah, yeah.” presses a gentle kiss to your temple. “would you like to go inside now? your hands are cold.”

the corners of your lips curl, tired. you don’t move against his side. “and we can watch a movie or something?”

“course we can, love,” he mumbles against your temple. “anything you want.”

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simpliao · 2 years

Text

that was the moment he realised ; (irl) schlatt x reader

– part one , – part two , – part three , – part four , – part five , – part six

summary : a weekend getaway vacation, just what the pair needed to get away from busy city lives. in just enjoying the moment, what once was a silly, dismissive thought to the male, now hits him straight in the face. and for once, he's okay with it.

info : fluff, mild swearing, she/her pronouns as well as reader being described as a woman (pretty girl), sappy, like really sappy but i adore it.

a/n : i actually adore fluffy schlatt, i always got the impression that he hides the fact he's the biggest softie out there to pretend to be more macho than he really is. considering i am sadly very much single, having some fluff like this is a comfort to me. so this is kinda just a comfort post where i have them gush about being in love. <3

The lack of any rustling but that of the leaves of the trees was a different, and almost bizarre thing to wake up to. Almost expecting to suddenly hear the burst of a car horn reminding him of his apartment being right on a busy street; and yet this peace remained. Pure rays of light slipped through the blinds, filling the bedroom with a gentle golden glow. Under his arm, Y/n slept cuddling into his side for warmth; the rented out cottage wasn't exactly the best insulated. With the utmost care, he slinked his arm away from her, mindful to not jostle her awake. Her form wrapped up in a French linen comforter, disheveled sure, but to the New Yorker she was too damn gorgeous for her own good. His eyes lingered before retreating from the room, short steps leading down into the open concept living room and kitchen.

Today was Sunday: the end of the weekend and their last day before they had to go back. It was oddly serene, seeing the living spaces highlighted by morning shine. Just checking the fridge, it was already pre-stocked with bougie shit that he didn't recognise. Even the milk was some kind of unpronounceable brand, acting as if it was above all the other milk brands. The memory of Y/n sometimes buying these kinds of things didn't pass him, a smile grew to his lips as they'd debate if fifteen dollars for specialty cereal was really worth it. That was when she has initially moved in, now he didn't bat an eye when things around their home moved around or suddenly gained new items that he was unsure about.

She slowly changed what was once a stinky bachelor pad into a presentable home, warm and cozy, especially when she made it a point to hang up pictures of the pair and establish a colour scheme for interior designing. Just thinking about it made him homesick, he even started letting her come to the office and change things around just so he could have reminders of her in his space. Although the two started their relationship in private, only really friends and family knowing and teasingly keeping it out of public eye for the sake of privacy. It was ultimately in vain since despite it being Schlatt's wish, he ended up spilling it to his viewers after having her show up in countless streams and endless twitter interactions. (All painfully flirty.)

Considering Y/n was also a public figure, some part jealously irked him when fans would inevitably ship her with other people. Getting it out in the public at least made that mostly die out, his liberal use of nicknames like 'my girl', 'sweetheart', 'doll', and 'pretty girl' even in front of the camera cemented the pair's bond. Considering the two's interactions were thousands of times cuter than her platonic interactions with friends, her fans ate that shit up.

"Good morning." Speaking of which, she groggily came down the stairs with a tired yawn. His shirt dressing her body, and despite what anyone else might've thought; all he saw was a goddess that descended from those steps. “Did I wake you? I was going to get started on breakfast.” Which wouldn’t be anything fancy since Schlatt wasn’t exactly the best cook. “It got so cold without you. I figured if I couldn’t sleep anymore might as well follow the heater downstairs.” She huffed out, fully descending the stairs to approach her boyfriend. Sitting atop one of two barstools of the kitchen’s island. He snuck glances in between of gathering things from out of the fridge. Her features highlighted by early light, easily one of the most angelic things he’s ever seen. Her eyes heavy as she was still in the rices of fully waking up, yet still remaining with a lazy smile as she watched from a short distance. “Take a picture.” She mused, rubbing her eyes slightly whilst teasing the male with one of her devilish smiles. “It’ll last longer.” “Oh shut up.” He dismissed despite holding one of his own.

The scene was serene, Y/n's gaze glued to her boyfriend of close to two years. While he always noticed her far off looks, he never realized it was because she was completely enamoured by him. Always watching over his figure, habitually dressed in basketball shorts and sweatshirts. (Of which she stole constantly, never bothering the brunette considering he adored seeing her wrapped up in his clothing.) Eyes always fixated on his face, whenever the pair were alone she got the privilege of seeing him in his softer side. Grins teasing at times, but commonly genuine and so loving. His intensely dark brown irises so filled with love whenever they met hers, always feeling like when she first fell for him; the butterflies never left. Where could she even begin with his curled caramel brown locks? Her fingers twitched, yearning for the pair to snuggle up and put on a movie; giving her the perfect opportunity to run her hands along his scalp.

In the grand scheme of things, they hadn't been together very long, neither having knowing each other long before completely falling into this state of love. What started as limerence grew to real, seldom true love. In such a simple scene, where the New Yorker had prepared (mostly uncooked) scrambled eggs and (slightly burnt) buttered toast, retiring to a seat beside his lover where the two chatted about whatever came to mind. The pair always having gazes filled with such enamour, adoration like their partner had hung the stars and moon.

"You know, I kind of wish we could stay." Y/n had spoken offhandedly, spooning the yellow mass onto one of her slices of toast. She followed up her comment soon after taking a bite, "I love this cottage... But, I wouldn't mind spending forever anywhere as long as I'm with you." Forever. The word poignant and sticking within his mind, spending forever with her, it was a thought he always briefly had. His insecurities drowned it out, fear of falling out of this kind of honeymoon, fear of her no longer looking at him like he looked at her. He feared that later down the line she wouldn't see him the same, he was scared to commit to her.

And yet, with her affirmation of always wanting to be with him, even if she spoke it in passing with it seemingly escaping her lips and being forgotten soon afterwards, it filled him with some kind of comfort unlike perviously when it'd fill with with anxiety and dread. Rather than worriedly question and wonder about the future, if she was his forever, from this moment on he realised just what kind of bliss that would be. Memories flashed his mind of what they had done this weekend, of what they'd done during the entire duration of their relationship... How it showed no sign of ever slowing down from the past two-ish years of their love. How he wouldn't trade all the money in the world for his darling, his pretty girl.

Just looking at her now, soft smile directed towards him, a kind of beauty he couldn't form into words radiating off her. He could spend forever like this. Mornings of home cooked breakfasts, afternoons working alongside each other and evenings of either going out or staying in. Everything seemed to make him excited, he craved to experience it all, experience it all with her at his side. She was his certainty, she would be it. His number one, his forever.

"Yeah..." He muttered out softly, pushing the mug to his lips to take a sip of bitterly black coffee. "I could spend forever with you too." Just seeing the way her eyes slightly squinted as she smiled made his heart burst, his hand found itself reaching over to brush his thumb over the edges of her lips to rub away crumbs. "You eat like a baby, you know that?" "But I'm your baby." She grinned, letting his hand linger on her cheek as his stare was nothing but overwhelming tenderness. Yeah, she was his. And in that moment he decided that he'd be sure to make it official, more official than just the common titles of boyfriend and girlfriend.

Because, that was the moment he realised... This was the girl he was going to marry.

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