#I’m so frustrated right now. why can’t I just be normal. why does my body have to manifest fifty eleventy new health problems

[flitterywings]

so I think I’m in the clear with my kidneys now?? my scans showed other different problems though which is annoying bc I don’t want to deal with more health things 😞

I’m still sick and gonna spend more time trying to get better but at least now it seems like I won’t be going inpatient for my kidneys

[girlspecimen]

we so truly and honestly need to bring back free the nipple LOL like i have larger breasts and because of that larger nipples that are occasionally visible in silhouette and i’m constantly shamed and micromanaged by relatives, coworkers, even STRANGERS for having the mere shape of my body be visible even when im wearing sleepwear or dark clothing. i feel like the narrative around women’s bodies is so deeply constrictive and rooted in shame and control that we need to just get rid of it entirely and allow fully bare breasts to not be seen as obscene

[nope-body]

.

[gojos-thot-patrol]

Otherwise known as Seven Minuets in Heaven Part. 2 ;)

Find Part One Here!

Dating isn't easy, and falling in love is even harder. Ryomens love for you isn't up for debate, you're the only girl he's ever felt this way about. What is questionable though is if he's ready to leave his playboy life for you. Were diving back into the Modern Day Frat Boy AU

Warning: This fic contains smut, fingering, cunnilingus, a creampie- you know the drill, as well as Hurt/Comfort, possessive themes (especially in the smut), yandere themes if you squint, and a very much unwanted kiss. Reader discretion is advised <3

It’s surreal just how many times a heart can break before it shatters. How many times you can watch your boyfriend, who swore oh so many times that you were his one and only, flirt with truly breath taking girls before you finally snap. How many times you can accept the unacceptable before it feels like a full body breakdown, before you’re hiding in your room, crying into his hoodie because despite everything he was still so comforting to your stupid heart that still hadn’t caught up with your brain in terms of relationship status. 

But I’m getting ahead of myself. This story technically starts four months ago, and about a week after your first personal encounter with Ryomen Sukuna. 

“Hey man, are you gonna eat that?” Gojo asked, pointing to Ryomens waffle. Sukuna barely looked up from his phone before pushing the plate over to the white haired man, who took it greedily. The act caught the attention of group empath (derogatory) Suguru Geto, who raised an eyebrow at Ryomen from the other side of his coffee cup.

“You feelin’ ok man?” He asked, setting the mug down.

“She still hasn’t responded to my text, but she read it. Is this what getting ghosted feels like?” Ryomen asked, finally looking up from his phone, “This shit blows, why do I keep doing it to people?” 

“Because you’re a creep.” Nanami said without thinking from behind his book, ignoring the glare from both Suguru and Sukuna.

“Is this about the girl from the party?” Geto questioned, failing horribly to hide his genuine shock. “You haven’t moved on yet?”

“Can’t blame him, she was hot as fuck.” Gojo pointed out, not even bothering to swallow the food in his mouth. A move that would backfire when Suguru hit his back, causing him to choke. 

“It’s not for a lack of trying!” Ryomen said, pointedly ignoring Satoru, “Trust me, I have. I even tried hooking up with that one girl from the Kappa Phi Beta sorority, fucking....” He snapped his fingers to try and remember her name, “Yuki? I think?”

“And?” Gojo asked.

“I couldn't go through with it!” He snapped, more in frustrated with himself than anything else, “I felt like…wrong about it, like dirty. I faked a stomachache to get her to go home.”

“Uh huh.” Suguru said, sharing a concerned glance with Gojo. “Go on.”

“The whole time I was just thinking about Y/n.” He sighed, now earning Nanamis attention too, “About what she would think, and what if she finds out and it hurts her, I just…I couldn't do that.” Ryomen grumbled, resting his cheek on the table. It felt good to vent. Until he realized all three of his friends were looking at him as if he had just grown a second set of arms and two more eyes. “What?” He asked.

“Ryomen…” Suguru started slowly, trying to think of how to put this gently, “You…are a fucking moron.”

“Poor bastard..” Nanami muttered, shaking his head.

“This bitch got his dick wet once and fell in love.” Satoru laughed. Ryomens entire soul flinched at the suggestion, and panicked at the notion it could be right.

“No, absolutely not, that’s insane.” He insisted, sitting back up. “I’ve known her for like, a week! Who falls in love in a week?!” Frat boys in fan fiction, thats who.

“Then why are you getting so caught up in the fact she hasn’t texted you back?” Suguru asked. This was not helping Ryomens panic.

“Because it’s weird! Normally girls text me back immediately.”

“Right, so why does it matter so much that this one hasn’t?” 

“Because…because!-”

“Because you’re in love.” Gojo giggled.

“Say that one more time Satoru and I’ll put Nair in your shampoo bottle.” Sukuna threatened. Satoru was suddenly very quiet.

“You still haven't answered the question,” Geto reminded him. 

“It’s because I don’t want the other girls to text me back! I want her to! I want her attention, I want to talk to her, I want- Oh god damn it.” His ramblings turned into a near whine as he dropped his head into his hands at the realization. Suguru patted his back, trying to be comforting. 

“It’s okay man, it happens to the best of us.” He assured him. He handed him his coffee cup, “Here, try this. It might help.” Ryomen had no fucking clue how black coffee was supposed to help, so of course he had to try it. The moment it hit his tongue he realized why it was supposed to help, almost spitting the drink out at the shock of the flavor. That wasn’t coffee. He looked up at who claimed to be the responsible one.

“Fucking Kahlua?” He asked. Geto shrugged.

“Technically its a black russian, so some vodka too.”

“Suguru It’s seven am.”

♥️♥️♥️

Two weeks after that conversation, you still hadn’t left that poor fools mind. "Either I didn't hear you right or you've picked up a coke habit." You scoffed. He shook his head.

"Nah, coke's a rich person drug. A lowly college student like me can only afford crack."

"They're the same thing, different forms."

"Tell that to the law." He shrugged. You dropped the argument there, knowing he had a point. You just rolled your eyes.

"Then I must not have heard you correctly." You groaned, "why are you inviting me to go fuck at your dorm at," you checked your phone, "8:17 AM?" He grinned and you wanted to punch him in the face. That grin never failed to make your heart flutter and squeal and want to marry him. Stupid fucking heart. 

"I never said hook up, I asked if you wanted to go on a date.” Ryomen clarified, “Like, to go get lunch or something.” And this is where your confusion came in. You had been casually sleeping with Ryomen for a few weeks now, which was fun. But you had convinced yourself he would never want anything more. Why would he? You thought he had a roster of beautiful women getting in and out of his bed, why would he give that up to be with just one? It didn’t make sense to you.

“Ryomen, I thought we agreed we were going to keep it casual.” You reminded him. It was the unwritten contract the two of you agreed to when you started hooking up. It was to keep both of you from getting hurt feelings. He sighed and raised his hands in defense.

“Okay, not a date.” He paused for a second, “Hey, do you wanna like, go get dinner tonight, maybe catch a movie and then head back to mine?” He asked. You felt a blood vessel pop. At this point in your “relationship” with him, you were almost positive the only thing he kept behind those pretty doe eyes was the god damn audacity.

"Ryomen, that sounds like a date." You pointed out.

"Does it?" He played dumb, "well, if you insist we can make it a date." He fucking grinned again. 

"No." 

"Oh come on!" He said it loudly enough to earn a sharp shush from the teacher, reminding him that other people were here to learn not date. He rolled his eyes and returned to a whisper. "What's the worst thing that could happen if you go out with me?" He asked.

What's the worst thing that could happen? Easy: You fall in love. You already knew you liked him way more than any reasonable person would or should. His sense of humor fell in line perfectly with yours, you had similar taste in music and movies, and you knew that he was more caring than he would ever care to admit; a trait you noticed from watching him interact with his friends. To top it all off, he was smart as hell, and he was about as beautiful as God said the Devil would be. He was fucking dangerous, and so easy to love, you couldn't blame any of the girls that fell before you.

And that was the issue. Ryomen had a vice, and it was women. You’d seen it in action on campus, the way past flings would come up to him to try and rekindle something that was never lit in the first place. And he ate that shit up. He loved basking in the attention given to him, and if it made you jealous now, you couldn’t imagine the fights you’d get into if he was officially yours. And you really didn’t need a criminal record.

"What's the worst that could happen?" You reiterated, "I get Syphilis."

"I hate to break it to you, beautiful, but if that was the case you'd already have it." He chuckled. Yeah, you walked right into that one. You pinched the bridge of your nose, repressing the urge to yell at him that it was way too early for this shit.

"Ryo-"

"I love it when you call me that." 

"-Men, Ryomen let me finish," you groaned, "I'm really trying to pay attention here, can you just drop it?" You sighed in exasperation. 

"Sure, if you agree to go out with me." He smirked. 

"Why are you so desperate for this date?!" You struggled to maintain a whisper, "Isn’t what we’re doing right now enough? You’re already getting what you want out of me, why do you want more?" 

Ryomen felt himself shatter, like a wine glass being forced to endure Mariah Careys’ high note. He thought the two of you had moved past your perception of him as a fuck boy using you for you body but, apparently not. Did you not know? Did you not know you were the only woman that was allowed to sleep in his bed? The only girl who he brought to just casually hang out with his friends? The only person in the world that he had ever cuddled with? He didn’t talk about his after graduation plans with any of those other girls. He didn’t talk about his little brother, or why he was a business major to them. He didn’t stay up all night talking to them because he just wanted to hear their voice. All of that was reserved for you. You had no idea just how special you were to him.

"Because I don't just want your body, I want you!" He said just a little bit too loudly. Great, now people were looking, "You've all I've been thinking about for weeks, do you know how weird this is for me?! I'm going crazy over you, and you won't even give me a chance, You won’t let me prove to you that you’re important to me!” You could feel the eyes of the classroom drill into you, and it made you want to shrink away. Something had to give.

"If I agree to go on one, count them, one" you held up a finger for emphasis, "date with you, will you shut up?"

"Without hesitation."

"Fine, then shut up." You chastised him.

"Wait, so is that a yes?" He smiled wide, and if he was a dog his ears would have perked up.

"That's not shutting up!" You reminded him, "it's only a yes if you don't say another word this entire class period." He beamed as he nodded, giving the universal sign for 'My Lips Are Zipped' as he settled into his seat, and you wondered what the hell you had gotten yourself into.

♥️♥️♥️

“You dress way too extravagant for him.” Mei Mei sighed as she saw your outfit. You didn’t see where she was coming from. A tight, albeit plain, black mini dress with pumps was hardly what you would call extravagant. Though, you supposed in the context of your typical wardrobe it was quite the contrast. But, this was your fifth date with Ryomen, and he told you to dress nice. You thought back to your one date stipulation, and almost laughed. You really didn’t expect that first date to go so well.

“Aren’t you the one that told me there’s nothing wrong with dressing up for a date?” You asked as you finished putting on your earrings. She rolled her eyes as you threw that back at her.

“Yeah, if you think your relationship with the guy might actually go somewhere it’s fine.”

“Who’s to say my relationship with Ryo won’t go somewhere?” You scoffed as you turned to her. She scoffed back.

“Ryo?” She all but sneered, “Gross. And it won’t go anywhere because it’s Ryomen Sukuna. He’s like, the literal definition of manslut. He’s going to break your heart Y/n, and you’re not even his official girlfriend. You’re his toy.” Mei muttered. You fought the urge to roll your eyes. You knew her condescension came from a place of concern. Mei Mei had been with a lot of guys, and had her heart broken by even more. You almost took what she said into consideration. Then you remembered she had never really expressed concern for you before your situationship, and quickly brushed her off.

“He’s waiting for me.” You smiled at her as you left your shared dorm. You found him standing outside the building, exactly where he said he’d be. He always looked handsome, but tonight he looked damn near dashing. The black dress shirt and slacks worked for him, especially with the sleeves rolled up. He grinned when he saw you, and your heart squealed like a school girl in a shoujo anime. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t walk a little faster to get into his arms.

“Hey gorgeous,” He laughed as he picked you up in one of his signature bear hugs. You could get lost in the comfort of his arms. He sat you down with an adoring smile. 

“Hey Handsome,” you winked, “Ready for our date?” He was taking you to a super upscale restaurant downtown. One of those places where you have to make the reservation like, a week in advance and pay way too much for not enough food. Admittedly, it made you kinda nervous.

“No, not at all,” His confession was disguised with a joke. He was as nervous as you were. “I have to give you something first.” By the power of plot, it was only then that you noticed the thin box in his hand. He lifted it up, presenting it to you as if he was a jeweler as he opened it. You didn’t quite process what you were looking at at first. It was a small white gold, cursive R with small rubies embedded into the stem of the letter. The pendent hung from a dainty white gold chain, and every ounce of your poor kid blood just knew that necklace cost more than your parents rent. 

“Ryomen, what the fuck?” You asked, not fully processing the situation.

“I like to mark what’s mine.” He shrugged with a devilish smirk, “You don’t have to take it, but I bet it would look good on you.” 

“I look good in everything,” You said, taking it out of the box to admire it. It really was a beautiful piece of custom jewelry. Your first reaction was to reject the gift. Gifts like these didn’t come without conditions, expectations. You knew that by accepting the necklace, you were accepting Ryomen. You couldn’t deny your situation anymore, couldn’t delude yourself into thinking the two of you were less than what you were. You’d have to accept the reality in front of you, the future in front of you. You looked at him and felt the smile tug at your lips. “Will you put it on me?” 

“Gladly.” He said, trading you box for necklace. As he fastened the ornate safety clasp around your neck, he leaned down. “I trust you know this means you’re my girl, yeah?” He whispered, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. 

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You hummed, placing a hand on his head to hold him still while you kissed his cheek. Mei Mei was gonna be pissed.

♥️♥️♥️

“Look, we’ll only be there for like, thirty minuets,” Sukuna groaned, rubbing his temple with his left hand. “ABO is throwing the party, so all of us have to show some face.”

“Do you have to show some face, or sell some weed?” You asked, crossing your arms as the two of you walked down the street. In the two months you had been with Sukuna, you had been to more parties than you could count. Which was really starting to stress you out, considering you fucking hated parties.

“Why cant it be both?” he sighed.

“You still haven’t explained why I need to come.” You huffed, pulling down your short dress. You had been trying to put more effort into your appearance lately, and experimenting with just how much skin you were comfortable showing. Sometimes you got it right, sometimes you didn’t.

“I told you babe, guys are fucking idiots. They wanna buy drugs from the guy with the prettiest girl on his arm, and when you’re with me, I’m always that guy.” He smirked, hoping that was going to diffuse the situation at least a little bit. It didn’t. Of course it didn’t.

“Really? You’re flirting with me? Right now?” You scoffed.

“It was worth a shot, right?” He shrugged. 

“I’m going to fucking bite you!” you threatened, stopping in your tracks to emphasize how pissed off you were. He sighed again as he stopped and turned to face you. He put his hands on your hips and pulled you closer to him, fighting the grin that came up as he noticed the slight shock on your face. He managed to suppress it though, and put his puppy dog eyes into action for evil.

“I know you don’t want to go babygirl, I’m sorry,” He murmured to you, ghosting the back of his knuckles along your jawline, “But will you go? For me? I’m only asking for thirty minuets.” Fuck. Fuck. This was a dirty tactic and he fucking knew it. You sighed, dropping your forehead onto his chest, and hugging him back as he pulled you into a proper embrace.

“Fine, but…can you promise me you’re not going to flirt any other girls there? Or let them flirt with you?” You muttered.You didn’t just hate parties for the drunken social aspect of them, though that was a part of it. No, you hated them because they always started fights in your relationship. Normally, you loved being with Ryomen. He was sweet and caring, and you knew he loved you. But he also had a problem with leading on other girls. 

You knew his attention whore antics would be a problem, and while you believed him when he said it was never physical- just flirting, that he didn’t even realize he was doing it, it always hurt you anyway. There was always a seed of doubt that it wasn’t as subconscious as he claimed. That maybe he didn’t love you as much as he said he did.

“Of course baby girl, you know you’re my one and only.” He promised, wrapping his arm around you as he walked you to the fraternity house. You had a sinking feeling in your soul this was a bad idea, one that only got worse as you saw all the drop dead gorgeous women in the room.

“Hey, I’m gonna go grab us some drinks, want anything?” He asked, knocking you out of your thoughts. 

“Oh, yeah. I’ll come with.” You said, following Ryomen to the kitchen. There sat Nanami in his designated spot behind the bar, half heartedly listening to an art major talk about the impressionist movement. He was nodding along like he understood, like he was engaged, but there was no light behind his eyes. You felt bad for the art major. 

Ryomen grabbed two cups of the frat jungle juice for the two of you. You took yours and quickly started to chug without even considering who made it, and almost immediately gagged at the burn. You managed to choke it down after a fight for your life. “What the hell is in that?!” You snapped.

“Oh, Suguru made the juice this time,” Nanami said, taking any opportunity to leave the art history conversation, “It has like, an entire bottle of everclear in it.”

“An entire bottle?” You asked in disbelief, “Is he okay?”

“No.” Nanami scoffed, as if you should know. 

“Hey, Ryomen!” Satoru laughed as he and Suguru spotted Sukuna. They walked into the kitchen. “And Y/n!” Gojo gasped when he saw you, always shocked to see you at these events no matter how many you attended. He ran over and hugged you, causing you to chuckle softly and Ryomens eye to twitch. He quickly got in between you two, pulling you from Satorus arms and into his. Gojo rolled his eyes, but otherwise let it go.

“I’m glad you could make it!” He smiled.

“I always do,” You laughed to hide your frustration with that statement. 

“We’ve got a beer pong table set up outside, wanna play?” Suguru asked. There was a beat before you realized.

“Wait, me?” You asked, a little shocked. You fully expected him to be talking to Ryomen.

“Yeah, you,” He chuckled, “You’re our Fraternity Sweetheart, we gotta show you off somehow, right?”

“She is not the frat sweetheart.” Ryomen scoffed before you could process the information. 

“Oh yes she is!” Gojo declared, “Everyone on campus knows it!” Everyone except you apparently.

“No, shes not!” Ryomen insisted. He hated that they called you that. It made him feel like he had to share you with them, a thought that made him actively violent. They could find some other sorority sister to be their sweetheart, but you were his. “Nanami, back me up here.”

“Sorry man, I’m with the boys on this one.” He shrugged, “She’s at all of our events, she’s here every weekend, the chapter loves her.” Oh he did not like the verbiage used there.

“I love how you guys all thought to ask me how I felt about this, so very thoughtful of you.” You laughed at the absurdity of it all. 

“Yea, exactly! You don’t even want to be a sweetheart, do you baby girl?” Ryomen asked, fully turning to you. A realization hit you like a truck trying to teleport you to a fantasy world. Something in the way he said baby girl, in how intense he was in fighting against the tittle. Ryomen was jealous. Of course, this was nothing new, but the idea of him being jealous of these guys just felt so absurd to you. You were used to giving into his jealousy, to baby it and tend to it; like a dutiful nurse. Protecting his ego at all cost. Your first instinct was to continue that tradition, but then you thought about it again. He never went out of his way to try and take care of your jealousy. And being a fraternity sweetheart may actually be fun.

“I mean, I am at every single party you guys throw, I might as well be the sweetheart, right?” You smiled and the other guys cheered, even Nanami let out a little whoop! Ryomens eyes looked dark though. He knew exactly what you were throwing in his face. You wanted to say being this petty was unlike you, but since you started dating Ryomen…

“You offered beer pong?” You smiled to Suguru, who gladly took you outside to the table, Satoru tagging along with a reluctant Ryomen dragging behind. 

It had been four months since you first slept with Sukuna, and two months since you got together. Sometimes you questioned that decision. Actually, you questioned it a lot. You questioned if he ever actually wanted to be in a relationship, or just liked the idea of it. If he wanted to have someone stable waiting for him at home while he still got to do what- or who- ever he wanted. The way he talked to some of the girls at these parties made you think that was the case. He talked to them almost as if he forgot he had a girlfriend, or worse, as if he resented the fact he had one.

Which was so unbearably confusing for you! He pursued you so fervently, as if he was convinced you were soul mates. You were happy to keep things casual with him for exactly this reason. He was the one that wanted to take things to the next level, He was the one that made things official, hell- He was the first one to say I Love You! And it’s not like he tried to hide you, he posted you on social media, he took you out as often as he could, that motherfucker tried to get a tattoo of your god damn name! Thank God Suguru talked him out of that one. It didn’t make sense to you that he would be this obsessed with you regularly, but the moment he got a few shots in his system and a cute girl approached him it’s like you were a ghost to him. It made you fucking angry.

The air was warm and full of laughing as you played against Satoru.

“Hey, you have to bounce it, you can’t throw it!” He giggled, trying to swat away your ball.

“Oh, but you can swat it?!” You scoffed through smiles, “Unfair rules!” This was your third round, and he only had one cup left. That being said, he was about half way through yours, and you were definitely starting to feel it. It was actually kinda nice to be thoroughly enjoying a party. To feel like you were here to hang out with your friends and not just to please your man. 

“Come on Satoru, how are you going to lose to someone who’s wasted?!” Suguru laughed, grabbing your elbow to help steady you. You should have known something was wrong when Ryomen didn’t step in. 

“By also being wasted!” Gojo chuckled as he completely missed his shot and you sunk yours. Cheers and hollers erupted in the crowd, and you proudly threw up both hands as you had won again. You felt like a star. Like you were actually cool, and accepted. You felt amazing. You looked over to your darling boyfriend to share the moment with him.

Only to feel every once of warmth leave your body when you saw him talking to another woman. You knew her well, Amanda from your english class. She talked all the time about how hot Ryomen was before the two of you got together, and joked about stealing him after. From the look of that heart wrenching grin he had on while he talked to her, it looked like she had a chance.

“Walk away. Just walk away.” You thought.“Come to me.” She laughed obnoxiously loud at a joke that probably wasn’t even that funny. Even he looked surprised at the reaction he got. Then she got closer. Your body went into rigor mortis as your lungs forgot how to work. “No. Please No.” 

She kissed him. The next three seconds felt like three years. You watched her wrap a hand around his neck and pull him closer, wrap another hand in his hair and you fought vomit. It was a tender act you thought was sacred between the two of you. You guessed not. You ran off, not having the heart to watch anymore. You didn’t see him push her away and onto her ass. You didn’t hear him yell at her.

“What the fuck skank?! Why the fuck would you do that?!” He scoffed, aggressively wiping his mouth. 

“I-I’m sorry! I just thought the conversation was going well, so-”

“So you fucking kiss me?! Do you do that to every man you have a conversation with?!” He physically spat, “You didn’t even fucking ask! Have you never heard of fucking consent?!”

“Look, I thought-!”

“No, you didn’t think of shit! I have a fucking girlfriend, do you know that?! Jesus fucking christ.” He groaned, walking away from the situation to find you.

You were making your way through the house to go home, fighting tears because you’d be damned if these assholes saw you cry. You swam through the sea of drunken bodies swaying in the house. The bass from the music felt all too intense, the lights all too bright. Everything was just too much. You felt disconnected from and all too aware of your body all at once, and all you really wanted was non-existence. 

“Leaving so soon?” Nanami asked from his place on the houses steps as you walked out. He looked up, noticing the tears you had let slip, and his eyes widened a bit. He immediately dropped the asshole act, standing up and placing a concerned hand on your shoulder. “Y/n, are you okay? Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Ryomen is a cheating bastard.” You managed to gasp through choked breath. This whole not crying thing was so much harder than you thought. That didn’t sound like the Ryomen Nanami knew though. The Ryomen Nanami knew didn’t shut up about his girl. He wanted to marry her after graduation, he was trying to build a life with her. He wouldn’t cheat on her. Something wasn’t right.

“Y/n, I’m sorry, but that can’t be right. Theres gotta be a mis-”

“I gotta go Kento.” You whimpered, brushing his hand away. You refused to listen to one of his frat dude friends try to defend him. You took off the R that weighed down on your neck, his claim to you, and handed it to Nanami. You knew you wouldn’t be able to face him again to return it. “Please give that to him, I need to leave.” You muttered, all but running away from the party.

You should have known better. You did know better. You hated that you expected this and still got hurt. Everything just felt so unbearably heavy. When you broke up with your last boyfriend, you just felt numb. You felt about as inconvenienced by it as when they got your order wrong at Mcdonalds. Annoyed, yeah- maybe even pissed off. But ultimately you got over it quick, it had barely hurt your week.

But this? This felt like hell. This felt wrong. Like when a loved one suddenly dies, or if your house burned down while you were away; like the universe was fundamentally broken- turned upside down and left to rot. You felt so fundamentally stupid for giving him a chance. For letting him trick you into thinking he was in anything other than lust. For falling in love with a demon like him. All of the devotion and warmth you held for him tasted so fucking bitter, like it had been preverted and turned into a curse. You wanted to crawl home and tell your mom she was right.

But, your dorm was much closer. “Hey nerd, how was the- oh no.” Mei Mei said, looking up from her laptop as she heard the door open. You looked like a rejected member of Kiss, make up running down your red face, hair a mess from the outside wind. 

“Mei mei, he-” You tried to get it out, but just choked on your words, breaking down into the sobs you were holding back. Mei rushed over to wrap her arms around you and keep you from collapsing in on yourself. 

“Oh sweetheart…I’m so sorry.” She sighed, leading you over to your bed and sitting down with you. She knew what happened without you saying it. She knew it was going to happen. She was mostly just shocked it took this long. 

“I’m so stupid..”

“Yea, a little bit.” She confirmed, patting your back and shushing you as you broke into another sob. Your phone went off. She checked it for you, snarling at the ‘where are you?’ text he sent. That motherfucker had a lot of gaul. She tossed your phone into your desk drawer, then went and grabbed the emergency ice cream she kept in her fancy mini fridge. She joined you on the bed with two spoons and her laptop.

“Okay, what do you wanna watch?” She asked, pulling up netflix.

Meanwhile, Ryomen was losing his mind looking for you, and Nanami was losing his mind looking for him. “There you are!” Kento snapped as he finally found Ryomen coming out of their shared dorm.

“Nanami, have you seen Y/n?” He asked immediately, “I can’t find her, and I’m about to start hitting people about it.” He said, running a nervous hand through his hair. He had never lost you for this long before, and he was really starting to panic now. If anything had happened to you, he was going to make tomorrows nine o’clock news. 

“Yeah, she ran out like an hour ago saying you cheated on her, is that true?” Nanami asked, feeling like he already knew the answer.

“What?!” Ryomen snapped, grabbing Nanami by the shoulders, “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me that an hour ago?!”

“Because I’ve been looking for you for an hour dipshit!” He yelled, pushing Ryomen off, “Answer the question!”

“No it’s not fucking true! Why the hell would I do something that fucking stupid?!” Ryomen scoffed at the very idea of such a thing. He remembered his encounter with Yuki, before the two of you had even become casual partners. The thought of trying to be with another woman made him nauseous then, and that feeling had only intensified as your relationship grew.

“Then why does she think that you did?” Nanami questioned further, trying to get to the bottom of the situation.

“I don’t know! I-” Shit. He didn’t even finish his sentence before the unwanted kiss flooded his memories. A hit from a sledge hammer wielded by Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson would have been softer than the realization that not only did you see the kiss, but thought it was welcomed. Suddenly, he didn't have blood in his veins anymore, only liquid nitrogen. “Oh my god, she saw Amanda kiss me.”

“What?! Ryomen, you said you didn’t che-”

“I didn’t!” He snarled, “She kissed me when I was trying to sell to her. I pushed her off, it was not mutual!” The last thing Suguru and Gojo expected to find when they went to slip off to their room was Nanami and Ryomen fighting in the hall, but, suppose theres a first time for everything.

“Whats going on?” Gojo asked, needing to be in the center of every drama ever.

“Y/n thinks Ryomen cheated on her.” Nanami explained.

“You fucking what?!” Suguru hissed, ready to fight on your behalf.

“I didn’t actually do it!” Ryomen yelled in his own defense. “She saw Amanda kiss me, but I guess missed the part where I yelled at her for assault!”

“Well she’s officially on the ban list.” Satoru stated what everyone else assumed went without saying.

“Wait, where is Y/n now?” Geto asked.

“Home, I assume. It’s where she was going.” Nanami explained.

“I have to go get her.” Ryomen said more to himself than anyone else, attempting to leave before Gojo stopped him.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Satoru asked, “If it just happened, she may not be willing to listen to you yet.”

“No, Ryomen’s right. The longer he lets this sit the worse it’ll get.” Suguru pointed out. “This is something you address immediately.”

“Not necessarily! She may be working it out on her own,” Satoru was being delusional, “I mean, has she broken up with you yet right? Like officially? Cause if not, showing up at her doorstep out of no where may be the end your relationship.” Wait, he had a point.

“No, She hasn’t broken up with me.” Ryomen sighed in almost relief. You two were still together, that ment there was hope. Hope of a conversation, hope to save the future he had built for you two. Maybe all wasn’t lost.

“Yeah, so…about that.” Nanami muttered almost sheepishly as he held up the white gold necklace you had tossed at him. Ryomen felt his soul evacuate his body and the liquid nitrogen in his veins turn into lead. The room was spinning and the only thing he could focus on was the jewels that should have been around your neck. The symbol of your relationship, dangling abandoned from Nanami's fingers. You had left him and he didn’t even know it.

“Shit.” Mai Mai muttered, checking her phone half way through an episode of whatever you had put on. “Shoko got too fucked up and needs a ride home from the bar.” She sighed. You knew what that meant.

“That’s ok,” you managed a smile, “Go make sure she’s safe.”

“Are you going to be okay?” That was a loaded question if you’d ever heard one. 

“Yeah Mei, I’m not gonna like, kill myself or something stupid like that.” You forced a laugh to really sell that you were falling apart. Mei gave a concerned face, but knew that Shoko still needed her help. 

“I’ll be back in like, an hour, ok?” She said as she grabbed her keys, “If you need anything or god forbid he shows up, call me, ok?” She demanded more than asked.

“Okay, I will.” You sighed, waving off your friend as she left. Once alone, you decided you might as well take the opportunity to get into pajamas. You shuffled to your closet, feeling more like a zombie than much else. That was until you opened the door to reveal Ryomens hoodie hanging up with the rest of your clothes. The icy tendrils of despair returned, and despite your better judgment you pulled the old hoodie down.

He had left it here a few weeks back, and you had been snuggling up in it ever since. At the time it was a major comfort, now it was just another thing to return later. Despite yourself, you still hugged it, imaging you were just hugging him goodbye for some closure. You hoped it would help you let go. Instead what happened is you were greeted with his familiar scent, pine and cigarettes, and your eyes started gushing again.

It’s surreal just how many times a heart can break before it shatters. How many times you can watch your boyfriend, who swore oh so many times that you were his one and only, flirt with truly breath taking girls before you finally snap. How many times you can accept the unacceptable before it feels like a full body breakdown, before you’re hiding in your room, crying into his hoodie because despite everything he was still so comforting to your stupid heart that still hadn’t caught up with your brain in terms of relationship status. 

You collapsed onto your bed as you clung to the fabric, wishing it was him. That tonight had never happened, and he was still yours. It was a nice thought. Your pity party was interrupted by what could only be described as a cop knock on your door. It startled a yelp out of you, and almost scared you enough to make you forget you were sad.

“Y/n, please, let me in.” Mother fucker! Why would he think this was a good idea?!

“No Sukuna, I have nothing to say to you.” You snapped, and he cringed on the other side of the door. He hated when you used his last name for him. It made him feel like his father.

“That’s fine! Just let me say what I have to say.” He begged, “Y/n, it’s not what you think.”

The Audacity

How fucking dare he show up to your door with the worlds lamest fucking excuse and expect it to work?! How fucking dare he act like you didn’t have two working eyes! The rage that filled you with pushed you off the bed and to the door, throwing it open just to smack him across the face. His eyes blew wide at the attack. He had never seen you violent before. He kinda liked it.

“You’re a real fucking douche bag, do you know that?!” You snapped, “You spent fucking months trying to get me to agree to be with you, just to do this to me! Do you know how much this hurts?!”

“Y/n, I-!”

“I’m not done!” You shouted, officially pissing off your across the hall neighbor.

“Take it to your dorm, not the hall!” Utahime yelled from behind her door. You growled, but reluctantly pulled him into your room, closing the door behind the two of you.

“You lead me on for fucking months, fucking months, making me think you loved me and wanted to be with me, just for it to turn out to all be a lie! Then, when you realize you fucked up, you turn up at my door with the lamest excuse known to man! What the fuck do you have to say for yourself?!” You hissed, venom dripping for your lips like thick cyanide.

“She kissed me,” He explained, holding up his hands when he saw you open your mouth to argue, “You asked me what I had to say for myself, right? This is what I have to say, just let me talk.” You closed your mouth reluctantly, waiting for him to continue.

“She started talking to me because she wanted to try pot and knew I had some to sell. I sold her an ounce and we kept talking about her fucking major or some shit. Honestly, I don’t even remember what we were talking about, I was just trying to give good customer service. But I guess she was into it, cause out of no where she kissed me. But I didn’t kiss her back, Y/n! I pushed her off of me, I yelled at her that I had a girlfriend, hell, I’m pretty sure I fucking spit on her. You have to believe me Baby, I wanted nothing to do with that!” 

He was talking fast and panicked, and not at all like how he normally spoke. Like he was scared for his life, grabbing his hair and trying to control his breathing. His fear almost transferred to you, but all you really wanted was to hug him, to assure him it was okay. A part of you wanted to deny it all, because that was so much easier than admitting you were wrong and jumped to conclusions. That you let Mei Mei and your mother get into your head. 

But you knew your boyfriend better than that. You knew that this wasn’t the ramblings of a liar, but the ramblings of a desperate man needing to be heard. The honesty in his eyes, the tremble in his normally steady voice. You thought about how Nanami tried to argue with you when you first accused Ryomen. At the time you refused to hear any of it, but Nanami had never been one to bull shit anyone or defend his fraternity brothers shitty actions. And suddenly, your stomach filled with stones as you realized what you had done, what you had almost thrown away. 

“Ryomen,” You muttered, slowly approaching him as if he was a hurt animal.

“I kept looking for you after it happened, I was going to tell you! But you were gone-”

“Ryo,” You tried again to cut through his thoughts, standing close enough now to touch him.

“But then fucking Nanami found me, and he had your necklace, and-” Oh shit, he wasn’t there anymore. You recognized a doom spiral when you saw one. You gently grabbed his cheeks and forced him to look at you. Those puppy dog eyes you fell in love with were wide and full of fear, filling you with a sick dread that made your skin feel far too tight.

“Baby, look at me. You’re getting lost in your head.” You said softly, using your thumb to wipe away a stray tear.

“Y/n, I’m so sorry I-”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry I ran away instead of just talking to you about what happened.” You sighed.

“Yea that was kinda hypocritical of you.” He nodded.

“Ryomen.”

“I’m just saying, you’re the one talking about how important communication is.”

“And I apologized, did I not?!” You laughed at the emotional whiplash of it all. He let a small smile slip as he watched. He finally felt like he could breathe again. He pulled you into a tight hug and kissed the top of your head.

“I swear, this love shit’s gonna put me in the ground.” He more gasped than laughed, the crash of his body no longer being in fight or flight mode weighing heavy on him.

“Ain’t that the truth.” You huffed, shaking your head as best as you could against his chest. Your body still hadn’t gotten the memo that things were okay now. Your bones still felt like they were shaking in your skin. He parted enough to hook his finger under your chin, tilting your head up at him. Your heart skipped a beat, taking in how soft he looked in the moonlight fluttering in from your window. He was proof god had favorites. He smiled softly to you.

“I think you’re worth it though.” He whispered, before leaning down and pressing his soft lips to yours. It didn’t matter how many times they two of you kissed, your heart always freaked out about it- like a mega fan in the pit at a concert. Your arms instinctively moved to wrap around his neck, he he took you by the hips, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He bit your lip, and took the opportunity of your soft moan to slip his tongue into your mouth.

Your body started warming back up, his comforting smell putting your panic response to ease. Your nervous system pulsated back to life, sparks flying in your blood waiting to be caught in his inferno. On one hand, it felt almost wrong to be kissing him so soon after the events of the night- like a betrayal of yourself. On the other, your heart craved him like a drug, his affection gave you a high that nothing else could even come close too. You felt like you were spinning and a heat was quickly pooling in your legs that you knew he could take care of. 

One of your hands tangled into his soft pink hair, tugging softly. He took that as his que to pick you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips long enough for him to sit you down on the side of the bed. His kisses moved from your lips to your cheek, to your jaw, to your neck. You moaned softly as he sucked soft bruises into your collar bone.

He pushed you back down on the bed, lowering himself to his knees in between your legs, like a sinner praying for forgiveness at an altar.. You were suddenly pretty thankful you hadn’t gotten around to changing yet. He hiked the dress up around your hips, smiling when he saw the underwear you were wearing.

“Black lace, huh?” He teased, forgetting the past like, hour and a half apparently, “Were you planning this sweetheart?”

“I assure you I did not plan on us breaking up.” You laughed. He did not like that you used the words “Breaking Up” and “Us” in the same sentence. It didn’t affect him they way that it did before. It didn’t fill him with that overwhelming feeling of panic that it had earlier. It didn’t freeze him in place. Instead, it just filled him with white hot rage. Surely you knew better than that, right? You were his, you weren’t going anywhere. “Breaking up” was not an option. He just had to remind you who you belonged to.

“Good thing we didn’t break up.” He said. Before you could protest, he pushed your panties to the side and ran his warm tongue along your folds, earning him a soft, pretty gasp from your lips. He smirked to himself, noticing how wet you were from just kissing, gathering the silky liquor on his tongue, and swirling it onto your clit. He started spelling his nickname with his tongue, R. Y. O, R. Y. O, and you were lost to whatever he wanted.

Your body pulsated with electricity, every swipe of his tongue sending a new wave of bliss through your body. You moaned out his name, fingers tangling into his hair to try and keep yourself grounded. You felt like you were made of pop rocks and stars, eyes rolling back in pleasure, pulling him closer to your core. You could feel a tsunami building inside of you, a sea of pleasure threatening to over take you.

“Have I ever told you how sweet you taste?” Sukuna moaned, sliping two fingers inside of your gushing pussy. You mentally added that to the list of weird compliments you had received since becoming bedfellows with the wannabe bad boy. Or, tried to I should say. As you were filing the thought away, he curled his fingers into your g-spot, turning any coherent thoughts you had had before into oh fuck that felt good and fuck I’m already getting close. Ryomen felt the way your cunt clenched around his fingers, and felt his own dick twitch. He knew how that clench felt around his cock, and more than anything he wanted to feel it again.

 “Ryo, I-I’m...yea” You tried to warn him, but the electric shockwaves going through your body made communication rather difficult at that moment.

“Oh yea?” He chuckled from between your legs, punctuating his sentence with a sharp suck to the bundle of nerves between your legs. “Then cum for me pretty girl.” It didn’t take much after that, his words of affirmation waking up butterflies in your stomach and in your cunt. A few more curls of his fingers and swipes from his tongue and suddenly cartoon stars were exploding in front of your eyes. Your climax tore through you with a vengeance, the storm hitting you and drowning your senses in bliss and oxytocin. Your entire body felt like it had been struck by lighting made of erotic thrill, the aftershocks leaving you shaking in it’s wake.

Your soul was still trying to make it’s way back to your body when his lips met yours again, your taste mingling with his on your tongue and leaving your head spinning. You went to grab his shirt, finding that he had taken it off at some point, which was more than okay with you. He nipped at your jaw and your neck before pulling away and getting you up long enough to take your dress off you. You went to take off your bra, only for him to stop you.

“Hey, hey, whats the rush?” He asked from the foot of your bed, wicked grin showing off his naturally sharp canines, “Take it off slowly.” This was 100% a power play and you know it. Normally this fucker was literally ripping clothes to get them off you quicker, your sudden uptick in panty buying could attest to that. But now all of the sudden he wanted to go slow? Fine, you could play that game. 

You stood on your knees to give him a better view, slowly shimmying the straps off your shoulders. His scarlet eyes burned into your every movement as you slipped your arms out of the straps as elegantly as one could. You made eye contact with him as you unhooked your bra, one hook at a time. Or, tried to at least. His eyes were trained on your chest. You grinned at the aggravated groan he let out, watching you catch the fabric before it fell and revealed your breast. His eyes were dark and you could tell by his shifting his jeans were getting too tight.

“Slow enough for you?” You smirked at him. 

“Keep running that mouth and I’ll give you something to do with it.” He warned, and you just laughed, finally letting your bra drop to the mattress. You saw his body physically tense as to not grapple you then and there.

“You want my mouth? Oh, but I’d much rather have you somewhere else.” You teased, looping your thumbs into the sides of your underwear as you started to pull them off your hips at an agonizing pace. Ryomen felt like he was going to lose it, feeling his fingers, among other extremities, twitch with the need to touch you. He tried to be a good boy, he really did, but when you rolled your hips at him he lost it. In a flash he had pulled you under him, and was fumbling with his belt.

“Hey, what happened to slow?” You teased.

“Fun experiment, not for me.” He responded, freeing himself from his jeans and lining himself up with your still dripping entrance. He caught your lips in a kiss as he dived in, swallowing your sweet moans as he filled you to the brim. It didn’t matter how many times Ryomen was in between your legs, it always felt like the first. The burning stretch as his hips connected with you setting your body on fire and filling your brain with tv static. You could feel your already weak legs tremble around him, and he groaned as your pussy fluttered around his cock. 

“God pretty girl, you feel so fucking good for me.” He moaned, setting a brutal pace as he pushed into you, his cock brushing against your g-spot and massaging your cervix. “Like you were made to be on my cock.” Who he was talking to was a mystery to you because you were not there. You were in outer space, floating on atoms and space dust as he rocked into you, bliss filling your veins as you felt euphoria spread through you and pool in your core. 

He threw one of your legs over his shoulder, letting him dive even deeper into your velvety walls. He grabbed your hips in a vice grip, no doubt leaving bruises you could take finger prints off of. Every thrust hit your g-spot, the new position letting him reach places that you didn’t know existed. “Oh, fuck, Ryo don’t stop.” You begged.

“Didn’t plan on it,” He assured you, watching the way your eyes screwed shut in pleasure. “Hey no-” He growled, removing his hand from your hip to grab your chin, “Look at me.” You whined as you opened your eyes, meeting his lust filled gaze. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

“You Ryomen..” You moaned, feeling yourself reaching your peak.

“Who’s the only person that makes you feel this good?” He demanded the validation.

“You, Ryomen, you!” You squirmed underneath him as all of the stimulation became too much. Your hands started to tingle as your body got ready to tumble off a cliff. You weren’t even fully processing what he was asking, you just knew to say his name.

“Who do you belong to Y/n?”

“Ryomen..” You whimpered, digging your claws in his back as your legs trembled, “Ryo, please..” You gasped, teetering on the edge. His hand left your chin and found your clit, massaging expert circles into it. It was your tipping point, sending you hurtling over the edge of your orgasm and head over heels into euphoria, the sea of bliss overtaking you as red hot lava replaced your blood. You felt almost dizzy as you were hit with wave after wave of ecstasy, vision going blurry with tears from the intensity of it all.

Ryomen wasn’t far behind you, the feeling of your cunt clenching around him, pulling him in deeper and deeper with every convulsion. He told himself he really couldn’t have pulled out even if he wanted to; filling you until you were overflowing and thanking Aphrodite for the invention of birth control. He rolled you over as he collapsed next to you, managing to stay inside. 

The two of you stayed like that for awhile, breathing deep in your afterglow, before he finally pulled out, albeit reluctantly. He kissed the top of your head, fixing his pants and finding a washcloth to clean you up with. “I’d say sorry for the mess but, It’s kinda hot.” He chuckled softly. You rolled your eyes and threw on his shirt.

“Dick.” You muttered. He nodded in agreement.

“Is that a request? I could go again.” He grinned as you weakly hit his arm with your finger tips.

“You’re lucky I love you.” You grumbled softly. He nodded.

“I know…I love you too.” He whispered. He waited a second before adding, “We’re still together, right?” more as a formality than anything.

“No, I slept with you as one final hurrah before deleting your number.” you joked.

“Oh, well then, I guess you won’t be needing this?” He asked, pulling your pendant from his pocket. Your eyes widened a bit as you saw it, almost forgetting that you had ever taken it off to begin with. Your hand instinctively went to your neck to protect it, only to find nothing there. obviously. 

“My necklace-” You said, but he shook his head.

“Nope, my necklace. Unless you wanna be my girlfriend?” He smirked that evil smirk. You laughed fondly at him, then gave an overly exaggerated sigh.

“Well I suppose, if it’s the only way to get my jewelry back, then we gotta get back together.” He chuckled as he hooked the chain around your neck again, admiring the way it dazzled against your skin.

“It looks good on you.” he praised, kissing your forehead. 

“Everything looks good on me.” You winked.

“WHAT HAPPENED TO CALLING ME IF HE SHOWED UP?!” Mei yelled as she finally returned home.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・ Taglist ・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

@risuola @grimreaqueer @baji-keisukes-wife @aliensbelieveinme-blog1 @marenalee @ryosuku

[k-hotchoisan]

HI BABES MY LOVE MY DARLING I AM HERE TO REQUEST dammit i hate that it goes from my other acc tho ):<

BUT 13 PLSPSLPSLSPSLSPXLSPXPSLXPSLDPDPSP LUCKY NUMBER 13 AHAHAHA

also congrats on 500 babes you deserve the recognition and more <3 <3 <3 xoxo love u

13. San choking you while riding his orgasm or Deny Yunho’s orgasm?

HELLO MY ANGEL MY BABY MY DARLING MY SWEETPEA YOUR WISH IS MY COMMAND ✨ this was a tough choice btw got me sweating a little.

Where you decide to pull San’s strings on how long he can last through the stupid bet he made with his friends of not cumming for the whole month of November.

Warnings: smut, pwp, choking kink, cream pies, oh boy this got me hot and bothered, unprotected sex, pent up sexual frustration

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff (message me to be in taglist!)

K’s 500: this or that: masterlist

You thought it was so fucking ridiculous when San stops cuddling and being physically intimate with you because why?

He made a bet with his members on winning No Nut November.

It is so ridiculous, especially when you see his eyes fucking sparkling when he tells you that Mingi was the first one to lose. Then Wooyoung a couple days later.

But as the weeks sink in, so does his sexual frustration. It had been 15 fucking days since he held on, but he was genuinely about to snap, especially when you are around him. Especially. You’re getting annoyed with his little shenanigans and his stupid fucking bet because fuck, you needed to be dicked down. But obviously, compared to San, you knew clear as day, who had the better self control. But you wanted to see how much longer he could take—especially in the state he’s in right now, and especially when you decide to be suggestive.

The night started off as normal—San coming back from practice, and you walking past him dressed only in a silk tank and shorts that pretty much could come off as panties from how fucking short they are. You’re drying your hair with a towel as you greet your partner like any other day you do, before giving him a peck on his lips, and San makes the mistake of letting his eyes lower to your chest, staring at the way your cleavage dips down and your nipples perking out from the thin fabric.

He stares after you as you make your way to the bed, dropping yourself comfortably as the pants hike up even higher. San swallows hard and he tells himself not to think too much into it, but also, since when did you own that set of lounge wear?

He showers and leaves the bathroom half naked before only fitting on his sweats as he joins you in the bed, his eyes still locked onto how loose the top looks on you.

“How was your practice?” You ask, as you look up from your phone to meet his gaze.

He blinks for a spilt second and shrugs. “It was okay, I guess. I’m feeling more confident.”

Your lips curl into a smile as you put your phone down and wrap your arms around his biceps. “That’s great, babe. I know you’re always doing your best,” you hum as you lean in, pressing your body weight onto his arm. San’s brain is starting to go haywire when he feels your almost bare tits just pressing onto him. He swiftly glances at the way your tits push against each other when you’re on his arm and it takes all of his strength to hold back and not to pin you down (especially since he hasn’t had an orgasm for two weeks now).

“I had such a rough day, you know. Boss was such a bitch…” you start after pulling away. San tries to listen intently, like the good boyfriend that he is, as you blabber about your work, but he can’t stop fucking staring at the way the strap of your top hangs off your shoulder, and more of your chest is exposed as you’re being animated about your day, your hands moving dramatically as your words flow in and out of his ears because he’s too busy watching your tits bounce as your nipples are pressing against the uselessly thin fabric.

You pout when you realise he isn’t listening and you climb onto his lap to get his attention, knowing damn well that he’s slowly getting hard.

“You’re not listening, babe”, you whine, your hands cupping his cheeks. San forces a laugh. No doubt you’re being so adorable right now but San is definitely beginning to lose his rationale when he realises that you’re not wearing any underwear. He cups his larger hands over yours and kisses your palm, stroking your hands gently.

“Apologies, Angel. Just had a tiring day at practice”, he replies as he closes the distance between the both of you. You giggle, before pressing your lips onto his, and he immediately caves in. But the moment he wants to part your lips open, you pull back, leaving him confused and, pretty damn hard. You go back to using your phone, completely disregarding him. His hand slips around your waist, pulling you to face him. You only smile in response before turning away, and San basks in the way the pants you wear hugs the curvature of your ass a little too well.

“Could you give me a massage, babe? My back is sore from being stuck in the office all day”, you ask, looking over your shoulder. San easily complies, confident that’ll get his mind out of the gutter.

Oh how wrong he was. Every time his presses against a sore spot, he has to bite his cheek when you groan and moan. He fucking swears that you’re doing it on purpose. It doesn’t help when you request him to go down your sides, and it takes all of his self control to just not grab your tits.

His final strings of self control and rational completely snaps when you turn around and your top had slid down so much that your nipples were pretty much just peeking out from the fabric.

You eye him up and down, watching the way he’s just fucking you with his eyes. You surprise your laughter.

“Why not just fuck me if you’re just gonna keep staring like that?”

You sit up, reaching to kiss his jaw.

“Come on, you know you want to, Sannie.”

He stares up at you as you slowly sink down on his cock, taking him inch by inch, and his hands squeeze against your hips.

“fuck, you’re so fuckin tight”, San groans, feeling his cock push through wall of muscles which are squeezing around him relentlessly. He fucking swears that he’s gonna just cum just being inside you but no, not yet. It would be such a fucking waste if he did, especially when he hasn’t had the chance to fuck you so good for two weeks.

“And why’s that? Oh right, because you wouldn’t fuck me”, you hiss as you feel his fat cock completely stretch you out. He’s filling you up so good and you’re already seeing stars. You tilt your head back, relishing the feeling of being filled to brim after so long. His cock twitches in you and you sigh in bliss.

San can’t come up with an answer, mostly because you were right and partially because he was deep inside you and his mind is doused in frenzy.

You lift your hips and drop, and your fingernails leave scratches on his chest as you hear hisses leave San. The moment you begin bouncing on his cock is when he really starts losing his fucking mind—whenever your cunt swallows him up, his mind goes completely blank, only dopamine filling every crevice of his brain as he watches the way your tits bounce when you’re riding him.

“Sannie, you feel so good. So big”, you whimper as he meets your thrusts with push of his hips, completely knocking your breath away.

“Fuck!” San curses, somehow managing to find the strength to overpower you, and towering over you, letting you fall onto the bed, now resting on your back, all with his cock still in you, as he locks both of your wrists above you, using his legs to leverage himself while he fucks you into the bed. He steadies himself well enough that his free hand is around your neck, and he contracts his fingers, cutting off the oxygen as he pounds into you mercilessly. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as the only thing you’re feeling is his cock driving in and out of you. Broken moans are leaving your lips and San is staring down at you, swelling with pride when you’re withering so fucking good from the pleasure that you’re just taking whatever he’s giving you. Fuck the bet. He wants to make sure you’re so full that you’d be leaking for days on end when he’s done.

“Just like that baby, keep taking my cock like the good girl you are”, he coos, making sure every stroke he gives your cunt is so deep that you feel his balls pressing against your ass. Tears streak down your face and you’re blabbering incoherence whenever he releases his grip on your neck. He begins rutting into you, and he’s completely lost in bliss—desperate to chase his high.

The fucked out expression San wears makes you more aroused and you feel your stomach tighten, and when San hits the pretty spot in your tight little pussy, your cunt convulses, and before you could even process it, your orgasm hits you so fucking hard and you completely go still, eyes rolled back, seeing the fucking galaxy, as you cream all over his cock while riding out your orgasm.

“Oh my fucking god, babe. Are you fucking kidding me? You’re gonna send me to the heavens at this rate,” he grits when he cock gets squeezed even more.

His hand still around your neck, he pulls you back to face his face, making sure he milks your orgasm clean. He curses another “fuck”before he sees white spots, his turn to still into you pressing his body weight onto you, tightening his grip around your neck, watching you sob from the overstimulation as he lets ropes of cum just spurt into your abused cunt.

“Fuck me, babe. Look at how much cum is for you”, he moans, jutting his hips periodically, emptying himself into you, his cum filling you up so much that it begins leaking out of your hole even when he’s still in you.

“So good. San, I’m so full”, you sob, holding your legs up, making sure to hold as much of his cum as you could in your small cunt. He releases his grip on your neck and the oxygen burns in your lungs. You catch your breath, your body spasming slightly as San pulls out from you slowly, and his cum leaks out to your inner thigh.

“Damn. I can’t believe I’m the third to go down”, San sighs once his high teeters off.

“Please, you never stood a chance”, you scoff. San turns to face you, his eyes narrowing, before he has you under him again, his hands pinning you down as you feel his thighs push your legs open once more.

He dons a smirk before he presses his bare, hard and cum-covered cock onto your wet entrance. You gasp as your gaze flutters up to meet his.

“I don’t think you’ll stand a chance for the next few rounds I’m gonna give you, baby. You’re asking for it.”

[6ix9inewiturmom]

Jealousy, Jealousy- Chris Sturniolo

Summary: You got a little jealous and insecure about chris’ relationship with Tara, the fans don’t know about you so it makes your thoughts a little worse.

Warnings: Arguments, inscure, fluff, use of Y/N, kinda Asshole chris, TW! co comparison

A/N: I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOY THIS BABIES?! also a PSA!! no hate to tara i love her sm she’s absolutely amazing and beautiful this is jus a FICTIONAL story!!

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It was an average Tuesday for me sitting in my apartment waiting for chris to come over so we can have our normal once a week movie night at my house. i knew chris had a video to film, i assumed it was for his youtube channel cause normally they film either on monday or tuesday for their wednesday videos. The endless scroll of tiktok was genuinely getting exhausting, considering chris and i had both decided to keep our relationship private until we felt comfortable enough to share with his fans, i always get chris fan edits all over my for you page, which was nice, sometimes i send him the good ones to see his reaction, but as im scrolling through tiktok a video popped up of chris and his newer friend tara, singing ‘Primadonna’ by Marina, now normally i don’t get jealous or insecure because i know he’s mine and im his, he ALWAYS made sure i was okay with anything, but he never told me the video he was doing was with her? she had this newer series on her channel called ‘Stuck in a car with..’ and last weeks was Nick, so i’m assuming this weeks was chris.. but why wouldn’t he tell me? he tells me everything? why was she smiling at chris like that? does she know he has a girlfriend? did he tell her? why was this the song choice? why was he not telling me it was Tara that he was filming with? i trust chris why am i overthinking so much? why am i questioning him? do i have a right to question things? should i test him? should i just ask? what if he gets mad at me for being like this?

A billion thoughts were flooding my once at eased mind with thoughts of Insecurities and Jealousy. she’s a beautiful woman, amazing style, she’s funny, she’s a lot of things i’m not, but does that matter to chris?

i get up off my bed to head to the bathroom to run me a nice warm bath to see if that’ll ease my mind, i step in the bathroom and turn on the light and start the water and stop in the bathroom mirror and stare. i just sit here for a good 4 minutes looking at myself, comparing myself to her, was it her perfect skin? her perfect figure? i let out a frustrated sigh and hop in the tub and my tense body softens at the hot water absorbing into my skin. i lean back in the tub and stare at the ceiling. questioning myself what i’m gonna do.

it’s now about 6pm, i’ve taken a bath, nervous baked, cookies, brownies, and a chocolate cake, baking always seems to calm my nerves down, i’ve watched 7 movies, no word from chris which is weird, but what’d i expect.

Speak of the fucking devil.

Chrissy 🎀

Hey ma, sorry i’ve not responded, we just got done filming and we ran a few errands and im on the way to your house now baby.

this motherfucker, did he just lie to my face? so he’s now believing his lie that he was filming with his brothers?

Y/N

doors open 🙃

maybe i should just play it cool, maybe i should just see how long he cracks? nah i shouldn’t do that thats some toxic shit.

i hear my doorbell ring a couple times, i get off the couch and walk to the door and open it up to find chris standing there in his light blue Fresh Love hoodie smiling at me.

“Hi baby” he smiles at me holding his arms out expecting a hug from me like i normally do but i can’t help but stare into his eyes and my once harsh gaze softens at his smile and i walk closer giving him a hug and he kisses my head.

i pull away from his soft hug and let him in. as he walks in he notices my disarray of a house, dishes everywhere, flour is scattered over my kitchen counter he has a puzzled look on his face.

“what’s with all those dishes and stuff?” he points around at my kitchen.

“oh that?… yeah i uh started watching tiktok waiting for you and i started baking..” my voice trails off.

“okay..” he starts “anyways… what movie do you wanna watch” he walks with me to my couch and sits down with his arm draped over my shoulders.

“i don’t wanna watch a movie” i smile “i just wanna sit and talk to you for a little bit” he smiles softly at me.

“what do you wanna talk about ma” he chuckles smiling at me

“umm how was filming?” i drop my head playing with my rings on my fingers.

“oh yeah it was good, a lot of good laughs, but it’s how we normally are” he laughs nervously.

“so just you and your brothers?” i lift my head up smiling at him. at this point i blacked out, i completely lost control of my voice, i trust him but why wasn’t he telling me the truth?

“yeah, we was filming for wednesdays new video” he looks me deeply in my eyes, straight up lied to me.

my lips kiss my teeth and i nod, “so Tara is your brother?” i spit out.

his eyes widen, and his face goes pale “Y/N, it’s not what it looks like, look i know me and you have been together for a year and a half in private, she knows i have a girlfriend who i love” he places his hand on my knee rubbing circles on it.

i nod “yeah so why didn’t you just tell me you were with tara? then when i asked you completely lied to my face, yeah i saw the fucking tiktok you guys made, and best believe me, the comments on that fucking video? a BUNCH of boat emojis, and ‘oh the way he looks at her’ what the fuck chris?” my voice cracks with anger and sadness

“Y/N i just know how you are..” he looks down playing with his thumbs.

“HOW I AM? chris i have done nothing but trust you, im sorry for expecting the bare minimum by i don’t know my boyfriend to tell me that he’s filming a video with someone? then not lie to me about who he was with?” i yell standing up off the couch.

“Y/N sit down, talk to me ma, i promise it’s not like that” chris starts trying to grab my hand, i jerk my hand back.

“no you’re not gonna ‘ma’ me, at all, you lied chris, u caught you in a lie, if i would have never seen that fucking tiktok, you would have never fucking told me about it chris, what the fuck?” i pace around my living room in anger and in almost tears

“Y/N…baby” he gets off the couch trying to calm me down.

“no chris, get away from me, get out, i don’t wanna see you” i sit on the floor next to my window in fetal position with my head between my knees.

“Y/N pls don’t push me out” he starts “please, i love you” he squats down at eye level with me

“give me one second chris” i stand up and go out the door unlocking my phone and dialing matt’s number.

“Y/N? what’s up?” matt answers

“come get your brother, i can’t look at him” my voice shakes and tears form my eyes.

“what happened Y/N” his voice panicked

“i should let chris tell you, just please matt?” i single tear drops from the left side of my face

“i’m on my way” he sighs.

i end the call walking back inside and chris is sitting on the couch with his face in his hands as if he’s stressed.

“your brother is on his way Christopher” i sigh walking to my room and locking the door, obviously he followed me sitting at my door with his head leaning against the door.

“Y/N please… i just know since our relationship is private how sometimes you can get insecure” he starts; not helping the situation.

“Chris, leave, you’re not helping” i start crying

“fine, you know fuck this, i tried explaining myself, you don’t believe me, ive tried, now im the problem” he sighs dragging his feet and slamming my front door which causes me to jump and start harshly crying. i hear a ping from my phone assuming its chris i turn it around to find Nick frantically texting me.

Nick Bean 🫘

Y/N??

WHAT DID MY BROTHER DO?!

ARE YOU GUYS BROKEN UP?

WHO I NEEDA FIGHT??

i guess news travels fast in the sturniolo household.

Y/N 🎀

no we’re not broken up, he didn’t tell me that he was filming with tara, told me he was filming with you and matt, but i found out from a tiktok.. all of his comments were shipping him, and i know our relationship is private but like nick… i love your brother so much..

i start crying harder then i’ve cried before. i never would have thought chris would make me cry like this, never, he’s always been so communicative with me. why start this now?

Nick Bean 🫘

what the fuck..

why?

but i have to say one thing Y/N, you know he would never leave you, i can say that, i can’t justify his actions but i can say he loves you dearly.

was i overthinking? he lied. was i being dramatic? he lied.

Y/N 🎀

i know nick, but i jus need a couple days to cool down.. that’s all im asking, a couple days to get his ass straight

i put my phone down and power it off so i can sleep without interruptions, or at least try and attempt to sleep.

about an hour later i woke up, tears staining my face, mascara still running down my cheeks, my heart aches. why would chris do something like this.

Two Days Later

the past two days i’ve heard nothing from anyone, nick hasn’t checked on me, matt hasn’t, and i expected chris not to check on me considering he’s playing the victim card.

New Message Requests from Ms.Yummy on instagram!

hm? tara texted me? god she’s probably the last person i expected to hear from.

Mrs.Yummy

Hey girl! so i heard about you and chris! i just want to say he did tell me all about you, he bragged so much about you!! sorry if things got mixed up between me and chris!! nothing is going on between us! i hope you can forgive him! <3

so i’m guessing chris texted her. wow. he can text her but not me? are you kidding me? i clicked on her profile and found myself gazing at her pictures, looking at the way she does her eyeliner, the way she dresses, her smile, her nonexistent acne, her perfect makeup. fuck i’m doing it again, but i’m not answering her.

Movies, sleep, cry, shower. that’s my routine for the last 2 days. i can’t live without him. maybe he’s right. maybe i am insecure. maybe i am jealous.

fuck it.

Y/N

come over at 5. we need to talk.

i texted chris. we needed to fix whatever problems we had. weather it’s me being insecure and jealous or chris lying to me. we needed to fix things.

Chrissy 🎀

i’m coming over now.

fuck. i had no time to get ready, i looked like shit, felt like shit, still had stains on my face from tears. never mind, i didn’t care, i just needed my boyfriend back.

about an hour waiting for him i was in between dozing off and staying awake, i hear keys jingling at my door. damnit he has a spare key. he slowly walks in holding flowers and my favorite gummy candies and chocolate.

“Hey Y/N i’m sorry it took so long, i ubered all around LA, you know how embarrassing that is? matt refused to drive me anywhere today. him and nick are both mad at me since the whole…yk?” he started nervous smiling.

“these are pretty, and thanks for the food” i say walking up to him with a straight face, and grabbing things from his hand and placing them on my kitchen counter.

“so now what?” he placed his hand on the counter.

“i don’t know chris, You told Tara about our relationship problems obviously, she took your side” i rolled my eyes.

“look i know i fucked up Y/N, i should have just told you about filming with Tara, i shouldn’t have lied..” he starts

“you didn’t just lie Chris. you lied to my fucking face even when i questioned you.. THEN you told Tara about us and she fucking texted me all silly and ass kissing me.. how do you think i’ve felt? genuinely curious how do you think i’ve been doing?” i sit on the counter with my arms crossed staring at him looking at the floor.

“well uhm by the looks of things around here, and your stained cheeks, not good…” he continued to look at the ground moving his ring on his finger around in circles around his finger.

“chris you’ve got me looking in the mirror differently thinking i’m flawed, i mean look at Tara? she’s fucking beautiful, she’s skinny, she’s funny, she’s got amazing style, and definitely good taste in men if she’s interested in you..” my voice fades off and i start breathing in and out trying not to cry.

“fuck” he whispers “Y/N you’re all of that and more… no i’m not making this up, you’re absolutely the right woman for me, i should have told you about tara, im just saying i should have never made you feel different about yourself, i shouldn’t have lied, and i shouldn’t have lied to you. i’m sorry Y/N, for everything, im sorry for making you feel any less then perfect, you’re so very perfect to me” he grabs both sides of my face looking at me deep in the eyes. “you” he kisses my forehead “are” he kisses my right cheek “so” he kisses my left cheek “perfect” he finally places a little kiss on my lips making me smile.

“there’s that beautiful smile i’ve missed” he says still cupping my cheeks making a soft pink color appear on my cheeks.

“i’m sorry chris, i may have overreacted but im sorry for causing an emotional distress upon our relationship” i softly smile.

he places his hands down besides my legs on the counter “that doesn’t matter anymore. i promise from here on out, no matter what, no matter who, i will tell you who im filming with, okay?” he holds out his pinkie, i roll my eyes and intertwining my pinkie with his and smiling.

“i just want you Y/N Y/M/N Y/L/N, only you, one day i’m gonna make you take my last name, i can PROMISE you that” he says kissing my lips softly.

“i only want you Christopher Owen Sturniolo” i smile back softly giving him another peck on the cheek “can we take a nap please… i haven’t been sleeping good lately… and i just want you to hold me” i look down and back up at chris with his blue eyes gazing down at me smiling.

“yes but i have to do something before anything okay? but you can’t look” he smirks

“i’m confused but okay..” i smile softly.

Liked by Nicksturniolo, Mattsturniolo, MommyYN and others

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ChrisSturniolo WHOOPSIE FINGER SLIPPED.. Hard launch :) @MommyYn

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“CHRIS” i drag out the ‘s’ “no way..” i almost had tears in my eyes.

“now the entire world can see that you are mine and i am yours” he smiled kissing my lips softly “now we can take a nap.. come here ma” he opens his arms out for me i lay down on the couch resting my head on his chest and he kisses my head whispering sweet nothings to me, as i fall asleep peacefully for the first time in 2 days with my boyfriend.

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A/N pt 2 I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED THIS!! again no hate to tara, i love tara, she’s an icon to me, this is completely fictional!! I LOVE YOU ALL

XOXO

Gabs 💋

[zumek0]

draft 05; fushiguro, m.

↪︎ angst but very mild?, comfort, college/university au, no curses au, reader is very stressed.

↝ summary: megumi comforts you after you break down due to academic stress.

There’s a feeling of pressure on your chest, and a growing pit of despair in your stomach. You fucked up. Big time. Your teacher had given you a topic to make a presentation about a month ago and yet here you were, a week before your due date, not even having a clue of what the hell the topic was. As you stare into the google calendar tab open in your laptop you realize that not only were you supposed to present the topic in a week, but also turn in two different group assignments and an individual one. On the same day.

Almost mechanically you pick up your phone and open the messenger app. 

Megumi’s always been more of a night owl. His body is used to staying awake until sunlight threatens to spill over the horizon. He knows it’s not healthy but even if he tries to sleep at a normal, decent hour his mind remains restless. So he does what he’s able to: assignments, projects, pre-reading for lectures, reading books he enjoys or has been wanting to read, listen to music, make playlists with songs that fit the vibe of a very specific picture of you he has in his gallery, watch a movie, etc. 

It’s 11:56 p.m. when his phone starts vibrating over and over again. He can’t help the feeling of irritation that bubbles up inside him, thinking that Yuuji or Nobara are spamming the group chat with TikTok slideshows of “ask your friends which ‘blank’ are you!”. Although the feeling is immediately replaced with worry and slight curiosity when he sees it’s you who has been spamming him for three minutes straight.

His eyebrows furrow when he notices you’re texting with correct spelling, no emojis, no jokes in the middle of the conversation and capitalizing the first letter of every text. He reads over the messages you’ve sent so far to grasp an understanding of the situation. When he gets to the bottom of the chat, he gets up and grabs his shoes and keys while still paying attention to the still incoming messages you’re sending him.

You’re startled when you hear a soft knock at your door, stilling your fingers from expertly moving across the keyboard on your phone. Your eyes remain on the door while you wait for the sound to repeat itself, just in case you misheard or imagined it. Your phone vibrates softly on your hands, displaying a text from Megumi: “open the door”. You get up and do as he ordered. 

Once he’s inside your small campus room, he speaks. “Okay, now tell me everything slowly.” You do.

“… oh, did I also mention that I have two midterms that same week? And that quiz that we were supposed to present last week but the teacher changed last minute.” You can feel the headache creeping up your spine. You bring your hands to your head and rub your temples.

“And I know what you’re gonna say: ‘complaining about it isn’t gonna help you at all’” you make your voice sound deeper and more monotone to make it sound like his, “It’s just- It’s really frustrating. I don’t know why I can’t seem to just sit down and do things, like you do!”. 

He doesn’t say anything and you’re thankful for that. “It’s like—I know I have stuff to do, and I know it’s very important that I do it right. But I just can’t seem to ever find the motivation to do it. And then I’m left in spots like this one where I’m gonna have to pull a miracle out of my ass to actually turn in everything I have to turn in this week.” He listens to your rant patiently. Even rubbing your thigh when he notices your eyes crystallizing and tears starting to well up in the corners of your eyes.

After sitting in silence for what feels like hours, he finally speaks. “Do you want reassurance or a solution?” “Both. More reassurance though.” You both move to make yourselves more comfortable. 

He’s sitting down in the floor with his back against the side of your mattress. One of his legs is bent and the other is stretched. Your head is now resting on his outstretched thigh. His long fingers find themselves running through your hair, an action that you commonly direct towards him whenever he finds himself unable to fall asleep while sleeping over in your room.

“I think you’re gonna make it out of this.” His voice Is soft, but assertive. “And yes, you have some awful time-management skills that we need to work on,” a snort leaves your nose “However last time you were able to give that other presentation while only having studied two days prior. If you try hard enough, everything will be okay. We’ll be okay. I’m gonna help you.”

You’re pretty sure the tears are running down your face at this point. You sniff tour nose. “Thank you.” Megumi leans down and gives your forehead a kiss. “But now, we need to get some rest. We both have early clases tomorrow. Well, today, technically.”

You get up from your position and make it to your bed. He’s hugging you while your head is on top of his chest. From this position you’re able to hear his heartbeat slowly lulling you to sleep.

can you tell i’m proyecting with this one? i literally wrote it at midnight. stress is eating me alive, so please excuse me if this seems like a self insert. i know people who are currently dealing with a lot in uni, so i hope this can help you if you’re going through the same.

—han

[reallchristine]

ENERGY ─ chapter three

pairing: logan howlett x !f!reader

Set during x-men (2000) and X2

warnings: angst, bad grammar?😭, basically the plot of the first movie!!!

previous chapter <- -> next chapter

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You tried staying calm at the thought of what Magneto was going to do with Rogue.

Your reflection showing in the mirror of Logan’s bathroom as you stood beside the professor. You don’t need to be psychic to know that Logan’s worried, his expression says it all.

You watch as he splashes his face with cold water and pats his skin dry afterwards, before tossing the towel onto the side aggressively.

You exchange a look with the man beside you before turning to speak to Logan.

“Logan-”

“You said he wanted me.” He said firmly.

There’s a pause before the professor speaks up.

“I made a terrible mistake. His helmet was somehow designed to block my telepathy.” Charle’s averts his eye’s away from Logan, “I couldn’t see what he was after till it was too late.”

Logan stands there for a moment before walking toward’s the door.

“Where are you going?” You question him, confused. “I’m going to find her.” He replies grabbing his leather jacket before heading out.

“How?” The professor ask’s.

“The traditional way: look.” Logan answers walking out of the room as you follow.

“You can’t just do this alone.” You say, trying to catch up with him. “Who’s gonna help me? You? So far, you’ve all done a bang-up job.” He replies with a scoff.

“Then help us. Fight with us.” You tell him, stopping as he turns to face you.

“Fight with you? Join the team? Be an X-man?” He say’s as he continues, “who the hell do you think you are? You’re a mutant. The whole world out there is full of people that hate and fear you and you’re wasting your time trying to protect them.”

You stare him for a moment, clenching your fist’s, before replying, “It’s not a waste of time.”

you take a breath before you continue, “Even though the world hates and fears us, there’s still some good amongst all of that, I know there is,” You look down at your feet as your voice almost gets caught up in your throat, before you look up at him again.

“Which is why they’re worth protecting.”

You take a step closer, trying to find some understanding in his eyes, “You don’t need to be a X-man to fight for something that’s right.”

He scoffs, looking away and shaking his head, “I got better things to do.”

He walks away towards the door of the mansion before turning to face you again, “you know Magneto’s right. There’s a war coming. Are you sure you’re on the right side?”

“At least I’ve chosen a side.” You reply.

Logan doesn’t retort back. Instead, he turns back around, opening the door, but before he could walk out, he’s met with Senator Kelly already at the door, who looks to be out of breath.

“I’m looking for doctor Jean Grey.” The senator say’s gasping for air, before collapsing into Logan’s arms.

──

You now stood in the professors office as an unsettling worried feeling grows in your stomach.

Logan paces the room, while Scott and Jean take a seat on the chair.

“The machine emits radiation that triggers mutation in ordinary human beings.” Charles states to all of you.

“But the mutation is unnatural. Kelly’s body is rejecting it” Jean discusses as she continues “-his cells began to break down immediately.”

“What effect does it have on mutants?” Scott asks, worriedly.

“There appears to be none. But I fear it will harm any normal person exposed to it.” The professor answers shifting his gaze.

Logan stops his pacing, his voice cutting through the room as he speaks, “so what does Magneto want with Rogue?”

“I don’t know.” The professor admits, shaking his head.

Logan only grows more frustrated as he continues to pace across the room again.

“Wait a second,” Scott say’s lifting his head to look at the professor. “You said this machine draws its powers from Magneto, and that it weakened him.”

“Yes,” Charles replies with a hint of realization in his voice. “In fact it nearly killed him.”

Logan’s steps stop, as it all clicks in his mind. “He’s going to transfer his powers to Rogue and use her to power the machine.”

The professors eyes widen, a sense of urgency filling his thoughts as he waste no time to speak.

“Cyclops, you and storm ready the Jet. Jean come with me, I’m going to find Rogue. And Y/n, get yourself and Logan a uniform.”

Usually you would speak up hearing those word’s but, you did promise Ororo you would come along for the next mission.

“Wait a minute,” Scott’s speaks, interfering with what the professor was saying, as well as your thoughts. “He’s not coming with us, is he?” The tone of his voice sounding more irritated than usual.

“Yes.” Charles quickly answers.

Scott turns his head in slight disbelief. “I’m sorry professor but he’ll endanger the mission and-”

“I’m not the one who gave the train station a new sunroof, pal.” Logan says, cutting Scott off.

Scott turns to face him, “No, you were the one who stabbed Rogue through the chest.”

“Scott,” you warn him, the tension in the room rising.

Logan steps closer, quickly shooting back. “Why don’t you take your little mission and stick it up your-”

Before he could finish, Ororo bursts into room. “Senator Kelly is dead,”

you quietly gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth.

The room is silent.

“I’m going to find her.” The professor says turning his head to Scott, “Settle this.”

Scott nods as the professor leaves the room, Jean following behind him.

──

You rush to Cerebro along with Scott and Logan. The metal doors sliding open revealing Jean hunched over Charles on the floor.

Your eyes widen at the sight. “Charles,” you utter; your voice sounding weaker as you crouch beside Jean to help.

The feeling in your stomach only grows bigger when you look at the professor; monitors hooked up to his body as he lays on the table unconscious.

“I’m sorry.” Logan apologizes, staring at you and Scott before turning. You look back to say something only to see that Logan left.

Scott tenses up, only looking at the professor before him as he raises his fist against his chin.

You look at Scott, hesitating before you leave the room to look for Logan.

Stepping out the elevator you see him about to leave the mansion, “Logan,” you call, catching up to him.

“Where are you going?” You ask. Logan stops and faces you, “I was just going to get some air.”

“Oh, okay.” You mutter.

He continues his way outside as you trail behind him. You watch as Logan stops at the step of the mansion, taking a seat on the stairs.

“You following me now?” He speaks, not bothering to turn around. He reaches in his pocket, pulling out a cigar and lighter.

“No,” you shrug, moving to sit beside him. “Just wanted to get some air too.”

He looks at you as you offer a small smile in return. He scoffs, a smug look slightly showing on his face.

You watch as he turns to light his cigar.

“You know Rogue is in my class,” you say, trying to start a conversation.

“Oh, yeah?” He replies, taking a puff of his cigar.

“She’s a sweet girl.” You tell him.

It’s silent for a moment before you speak up again.

“I talked to her before the whole train station and magneto incident.” You tell him.

“About what?” He asks you.

You turn to him and smile, “I told her that we want her here at the mansion, that she deserves to be at this school.”

He stares at you, opening his mouth to speak before Scott comes up behind you two.

“We found something.” Scott says looking at you.

You quickly stand up while Logan puts out his cigar as you both follow Scott back into the mansion.

All of you enter the room, seeing that Ororo and Jean are both already there.

“Magneto is here, Liberty Island.” Scott says as the table contorts into Liberty Island. “Presumably his objective is to mutate the world leaders at the summit on Ellis Island.”

Ororo speaks with her arms crossed as she stares at the map. “He doesn’t know his machine kills, and judging from what the professor saw if Magneto gave Rogue enough power-”

“He could wipe out everyone in New York City.” Jean says in realization, cutting off Ororo.

“All right.” Scott starts. “We can insert here at the George Washington Bridge. Come around the bank, just off of Manhattan, land on the far side of Liberty Island, here.” The map moving as he finishes.

“What about harbor patrol? Radar?” Logan questions, his voice stern.

Scott turns to Logan with a sarcastic smile, “if they have anything that can pick up our jet, they deserve to catch us.”

Logan doesn’t bother to reply, instead he just looks up at him with a straight face.

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an ─ it took me a couple of days to finish this chapter since I’ve just been so busy but I managed😝🙏 anyways mind the mistakes I haven’t gotten the chance to proof read this yet so yeah!! Also my taglist keeps getting messed up so I’ll fix that soon hopefully😭

🏷️: @cxptainbuck @thecraziestcrayon @marvelgirlie-4 @ravenslvt @malfoys-demigod @byhuenii @evanpetersmood @avatarobsessedgirly @kinokomoonshine @heysupersoldier @imjustatiredpersonsposts @deaky-with-a-c @needz1nk

[pimosworld]

Company

Pairing -triple frontier boys x f!reader

Content warnings-18+,MDNI,NSFW, piv sex,oral sex, public sex,mentions of ptsd,light angst,fluff,smut. Explicit, this is an established poly relationship

Summary- sexually frustrated reader gets lost in thoughts about her boys.

wc-3.8k

Notes- this is my first fic ever so please feel free to comment with suggestions. I’ve been putting off writing for so long and I’m nervous to post but so excited. I hope you enjoy!

You’re not sure why the drive home is so quiet, Benny had won his fight after all. Even though it was off a technicality, he still won fair and square. Usually he’s buzzing with excitement after a win but right now, as you’re sandwiched between him and Santi in the backseat of the Jeep, you can tell he’s fuming. The heat radiating off his body should have long dissipated it’s been nearly an hour since he’d won.

Earlier in the locker room

“I know it’s not the way you wanted to win but we’re all still proud of you babe.”

It’s just him and you leaning against the wall inside the locker rooms. The rest of the boys are out grabbing beers, and are likely having the same conversation you’re having right now. He’s got a far away stare in his eyes that you’ve seen before, but not since your days in delta. That was years ago, and now you just want to kiss his face and tell him everything is okay. You won’t though because even though he won and he knows you always take care of him after a win, the only thing he’s said to you since you joined him in the locker room was that he didn’t want any company tonight.

It stings a little even though it shouldn’t. He’s entitled to want some space, and if you’re being honest with yourself, you are being a little selfish brat at the moment. It’s not entirely your fault when after a win he’s usually got you pressed against the lockers with your skirt bunched up around your torso, your legs wrapped around his waist and your hands on his bare shoulders. His strength after a fight is always surprising. Normally at this point, he’s holding you up with ease as he roughly fucks you against the lockers with your muffled cries of pleasure getting lost into the crook of his neck. His cock would be slammings into you over and over until you both reach your peak together. Jesus Christ you need to get a grip because you're having flashbacks about the man that is right next to you, and clearly upset.

Is your brain seriously letting you be this ridiculous? You live with 3 other men who are fully capable of keeping you company tonight. There’s just something about Benny after a fight that you can’t shake the feeling, the craving you have for him. That hungry look in his eyes when he has you laid out on the bench with his head between your thighs. He kisses your thighs and runs his tongue slowly up to your aching center,as if he’s forgotten he’s in a locker room and you most definitely can’t take your time. But he always does with you, he slowly licks your folds, his tongue feels hot compared to the cold bench on your back. The duael sensations are driving you mad. He nips at your clit and you look down at him almost in protest but those piercing blue eyes look back at you and he has this shit eating grin on his face. It’s the one you love and know when he’s being playful, he just wants to make sure you’re still here with him. He continues circling your clit with his tongue and you know you’re dripping down onto the bench beneath you. You’re desperately trying to be quiet but he adds a finger into you and you lose all train of thought as he fucks into you at a rapid pace, his tongue flicks your clit and a chill runs down your spine as you lose all sense of where you are. Your quiet whimpers have now turned into louder moans of his name.

Jesus fucking Christ you’re doing it again, get a grip. You can survive one night without Benny.

You will just have to torture one of the others with your frustrations, and how fun might that be?

As your thoughts drift back to the present, you’re in the car and you can see that Will has fallen asleep in the front seat. He’s been training Ben all week and is likely exhausted and a bit frustrated as well with the results. Will hates technicality wins because it messes with his overall record. Ben has been fighting for so long now it’s mostly knockouts across the board. Will is calculated and calm, he always has been. He’s the perfect trainer to juxtapose Benny’s fired up demeanor.

He was very calculated just two mornings ago when he fucked you in the kitchen. You both had a restless night sleep so you found yourselves bright and early in the kitchen enjoying your coffee together like a domestic couple in the suburbs. Except you weren’t a domestic couple by any means were you? No, both of you are in a full on relationship with 3 other people, both e your black coffee in your shared home at 5 am because you both had nightmares ( you all have nightmares) from your time in delta, and from your various other illegal activities after leaving the service.

You hate the restless nights but you love mornings like this, where the two of you, and sometimes all five of you,can enjoy your black coffee in silence, like the silent trained killers that you are (were?). That doesn’t matter, that’s just a joke between you and Santiago anyway.

“Are you done with your coffee?” Will asks with that sultry drawl of his voice still lazy with the lack of sleep.

You don’t answer but you slowly set your cup down on the granite countertop. He tilts his head and levels you with those blue eyes you’ve grown to love over the years. He’s let his hair grow out since leaving the service and his beard comes in nicely just slightly darker than his blonde hair that you love to pull when things get intimate. He stalks towards you in his gray sweatpants and crisp white, and too tight, t-shirt. You still haven’t answered him as he cages you against the cold counter top. You can feel the hard press of his cock against your abdomen in your thin oversized army T shirt. Is it yours? You’re not even sure anymore, it’s probably Frankie’s shirt but Will doesn’t care. He obviously doesn’t mind sharing.

He slowly grabs the hem of the shirt, his fingers dancing against your thighs. He raises his eyebrow at you asking for permission because of course it’s Will. You take his hands away from your shirt and quickly toss it over your head as it lands somewhere to your left to be found later. He stills in front of you taking in your naked form.

“ No panties or bra?” He asks you another question as if you’ve answered the first question.

What was the first question? He wastes no time lifting you onto the cold counter top. He kisses your neck and slowly drags his tongue down the line until he reaches your nipple, taking his time sucking and using his hand to grab the other breast and squeeze, brushing his thumb across your nipple. Your whole body is alight with goosebumps now, and pretty much anytime, Will ever touches you.

Before you can finish recanting your thoughts of the other morning you’re rudely interrupted by Santi poking you in the rib.

“Ouch what the fuck!”

“Calm down Honey I barely poked you!”

Even in the darkness of the car you can see his piercing gaze and his shit eating grin.

“Yeah, I’m trying to figure out why you poked me?” You say sassier than you wanted and return the grin in favor with slightly more of a smile than you wanted .

Frankie chimes in from the drive’rs seat

He asked you a question? When? You can’t even remember with your thoughts so caught up in fantasizing about the men you lived with.

“Hermosaaaaa, are you still with us?” Frankie’s eyes are somehow on you in the rear view mirror and paying attention to the road at the same time.

“We’ll I’ve got your attention now so I’ll ask again” Pope says in a bit of high pitched annoyance. “Which one of us is your favorite?”

You scoff at the idea that you would even answer let alone think that this stupid question is what pulled you from your thoughts of you and Will the other morning.

“ Do you actually think she would answer that?” Ben chimes in from beside you and you notice some of the heat and annoyance has dissipated from his demeanor.

He now seems more relaxed, shoulders less tense. You relax a little at the sight of your Benny returning to you. Still, you will give him his space tonight because he asked and you will always respect their space. That’s the only way this all works…respect.

“ You know I’m not answering that, and besides you all annoy me with equal vigor so I couldn’t possibly have a favorite.””.

Without turning to face Santi, you dart out your right hand to poke him in the ribs but he catches your wrist and stops you full force. You wouldn’t dare turn your head to see the fucking Cheshire Cat smiling back at you in the darkness of the car. You already know he’s proud of himself because his chuckling is reverberating through your hand that he still has clasped in his grip.

He leans in real close to your ear ( not helping your predicament) you can smell the musky cologne and the faint smell of beer.

“Ah ah ah, gotta be quicker than that,” he says playfully, still sensing your annoyance.

You rip your wrist out of his grasp and huff in frustration, as you glance back at the front seat and see Will still sound asleep. It warms your heart because sleep is hard to come by sometimes, and Will could certainly use some shut-eye.

So you’re obviously checking Will off your list of who will be your victim tonight. Between his long week and the way Frankie drives, anyone was bound to fall asleep.

Your thoughts perk up thinking of Frankie, as you watch him drive with such ease and control. The broadness of his shoulders as he lazily turns the wheel onto a familiar street. He always has such control when it comes to anything besides you. He would gladly lose control for you. Just the thought of the first time you saw him fly a helicopter can make you cum. That’s what attracted you to him in the first place. Although you couldn’t believe how you had managed to be placed in delta force with the four hottest men in the world. it wasn’t really fair. You supposed that Tom kept things equal, statistically speaking, being the least attractive of them all.

Frankie could definitely ease your frustrations tonight. He could never say no to you, it seemed there wasn’t a time when he didn’t want you. Once again you find your thoughts drifting off to the other day. It was a hot humid day in Florida. The kind you hated because everything stuck to you in all the wrong places. The sweat seems never ending on days like this and the bugs won’t leave you alone. Benny and Will were busy training at the gym and Santi was holed up in his office. You didn’t bother him on those days because you knew his mind would often take him to dark places. It had rained quite a bit the night before, and you knew the rain always brought thoughts of Columbia. He always took it the hardest and so you would leave him be for now.

That left you and Frankie to make what you could of this day and you knew he would do anything for you, and with you. The day had started off innocently enough, the two of you deciding to go to the beach.

Once you’ve arrived at the beach you quickly realize your mistake…everyone else in Florida had the same idea, and you and Frankie audibly groan at the sight of what feels likea thousand cars and a million people. Neither of you are in the mood for large crowds .

“What do you think Honey?”

You glance at Frankie in the driver’s seat and can’t help but smile. He tries so hard for you, you can see his smile lines have deepened over the years and his cap that perfectly frames his curls has faded slightly. You place your hand gently on his arm that’s gripping the steering wheel a little too tight and notice the blue shirt he’s wearing hugging his bicep.

“Let’s go home “ you try to say with conviction so that he thinks you’re not upset in the slightest.

“I feel bad we came all this way,” “ he says as he pulls onto the road and you notice his frown. You just want to pull him into a kiss so that he never makes that face again.

“ I really am enjoying watching you drive so it’s not a total waste.””. You throw a wink his way and see that smile return that you love so much. You decide to just enjoy the drive and the only breeze you’ll get all day with the windows down.

He keeps glancing over at you but you’re not sure he knows you can tell. You did wear his favorite sundress. It’s red with little blue flowers on it, t. Thin straps and a very low neckline that perfectly frames your breasts. The hem hits just above the knee, but with the way you’rer seated in the front, it’s slightly higher. He chances one more glance at you and you can’t help but tease a little.

“See something you like Morales?”

He doesn’t answer you but places his warm palm on your upper thigh. You’re both facing forward because you don’t dare look at him now, and of course he’s focused on the road. He inches his hand higher until his fingers dance across your aching center. Your breath hitches in your throat when he starts to rub circles on your clit with his calloused fingers.

“You’re so wet for me hermosa, just watching me drive get you like this?”

You don’t answer him but you slowly spread your thighs wider to give him room. He groans at the gesture and moves your panties to the side to drag a finger slowly up and down, your slick now coating his hand. He stills his movement at your slight whimper and chances a glance in your direction. Your breathing has become ragged and he watches your chest rise quickly trying to calm yourself. Reluctantly he pulls his hand away but you watch as he slowly brings his hand to his mouth and liocks his finger.

He looks back at the road and says in the most sultry tone you’ve ever heard grace his lips.

“If I don’t pull over I’m going to crash this fucking car.”

You smile to yourself, you don’t have much of an ego but it’s erotic to know how much you turn him on by just wearing a dress. They all can be very simple that way, and sometimes you find yourself drunk on the power that knowledge holds.

He drives for a while and you think maybe he was just talking but you start to not recognize your surroundings. The beach long in your rear view has now turned into long leaf pine trees, the smell is intoxicating. He’s definitely taking the long way home and you don’t mind at all. Before you can get caught up in scenery you notice he’s pulled off the main road, he nestled the Jeep between some trees. Just enough cover you think for what he has planned.

Between the nearly illegal tint on the Jeep and the trees you have plenty of privacy, although at the moment you don’t really care with how keyed up you are just from his fingers. Something about them being a vet lets them evade the tickets they would normally get for the darker than limo tint on the windows.

He carefully takes the keys out of the ignition, still not looking at you and carefully sets them in the cup holder. He slides his seat back to give you room (you assume). A comfortable silence falls between the two of you. Something you’re grateful for amongst all of them. They always make you feel comforted without speaking. Yyou can be yourself and just sit in the silence. Their presence is a blanket of protection that washes over you each and every day.

“Come here” he says in his low, husky tone. ,iIt’s not a question, but more of a command.

In less time than it takes you to blink you’re in his lap, your thighs on either side of his. You make quick work of his belt and he lifts you with him to slide his pants down. Each time you see his impressive length it takes your breath away. Frankie usually takes his time working you up but you’re already so wet you don’t want to waste anymore time, or risk getting caught. He gasps at the touch of your soft hand as you line yourself up to slide down his cock. The stretch has you both panting like you’ve run for miles. You rest your head against his broad chest, while he grips your waist as tight as he was holding the steering wheel just moments ago.

“Pleas-“ you both pant in unison. Which causes a chuckle from both of you. Neither of you know what you’re asking of the other. Is he asking you to move? Are you asking him to move?

Suddenly a sharp pain in your ribs has ripped you from your thoughts of Frankie and harshly thrust you back into reality, ( which you think you’re starting to lose your grip on).

“Earth to honey” Santi says in a sing-song tone.

You don’t normally mind that they call you by your call sign, it’s always sweet and endearing. Right now though, with the way Santi has interrupted your lewd thoughts not once but twice you want to break the finger that keeps poking you in the ribs.

Just as you’re about to give him a piece of your mind, you hear a loud groan from the driver’s seat.

“You good Fish?” Santi asks with concern for his best friend, the person he would do anything in the world for.

“Ya hermano it’s fine, it’s just my back is killing me and I’m ready to get home and lay out.”

You internally groan…well shit Frankie is off the list of victims. You would never disturb him on a night where he’s in pain. You all have been through the ringer between the service and your post service activities, and it’s definitely taken a toll on your bodies…some more than others.

You turn to look at Santi and resume your conversation about what his problem is with your ribs when suddenly it dawns on you.

He should’ve been your chosen victim from the start, he’s always so smug and you rarely get the chance to return the favor of him edging you for what can seem like hours. It usually doesn’t take much temptation from you to get him going.

You slowly start to slide your hand up his thigh, running your fingers along the seam of his tight jeans that always show off his great ass. You’re inching higher and without looking at you, you can tell he’s letting you as he slowly spreads his leg. You palm at his half hard cock through his jeans and you hear a low groan from somewhere deep in his throat.

You just want to tease him until you get home and then you can do with him what you want for as long as you deem necessary.

He adjusts his feet to give you more room and suddenly you hear a hiss come from him. You withdraw your hand immediately, fearing that you hurt him somehow.

“Did I hurt you?” You whisper into his ear so that the others can’t hear you.

“No carinño, it’s just my knees are killing me after last night,” he says apologetically.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” you say out loud accidentally instead of in your head, like you meant to.

The look of shock and horror is etched onto Santi’s face and you just want the car to swallow you whole. You glance at Frankie in the rear view mirror and he has a look of concern and shock as well. You look to your right at Benny and the look of amusement is spread wide across his face. At least something good has come out of your outburst . It seems that the Benny you know and love is back and is loving the predicament you’ve most certainly got yourself into.

He crosses his arms and levels you with a grin and he just knows somehow where your thoughts have been this entire trip home.

“Care to share your thoughts with the class hermosa?” Frankie says slightly less concerned, now that he can see the embarrassment written across your face.

“No,no it’s fine….I’m fine, I’ll be okay “ you’re trying to convince yourself. “I just need a really cold shower.””. You say as you let your head drop onto Benny’s shoulder.

“Well we’re almost home, do you think you can survive until then? He asks now completely amused with this whole situation that he’s clearly missed because he’s been safely trying to get you all home.

Probably not, you think to yourself this time instead of saying it out loud.

Who could survive being surrounded by these four men who on any occasion you could have your way with yet tonight, as if it’s some horrible joke, you can’t have any of them. You start to think that you’re being a bit of a brat again, but you’re too far gone to care.

You feel like a fairytale gone horribly wrong, instead of Snow White and the seven dwarves it’s Honey and the four mercenaries. Mopey, Sleepy, Achey, and Breaky.

You’re now audibly laughing and concern washes over the car again.

“What did I miss, what’s so funny?” Will chimes in from the front seat, now wide awake.

“Nothing, I just think we broke her.” Santi states from beside you, careful to watch your movements for any sudden jabs to the rib. He thinks your laughter is a distraction to sneak attack him but you’ve long forgotten all about him interrupting your thoughts.

As Frankie turns the last corner onto your street, you silently resign to yourself.

You’ll just have to keep your own company tonight.

@melodygatesauthor Thank you so much for proofreading and adding your lovely comments. It means so much to me 🥰

[jamminginspacw]

My shifting Attempt last night and how it changed my perspective. 🩵

I wanna start off by saying i didn’t not fully reach my DR. so if you’re one of those people who put people who have fully shifted on a pedestal then this is your heads up. :)

So pretty much all of yesterday i was focused on shifting, Throwing down as much info that i got from reddit and tumblr as i could. I attempted to shift during the day but eventually got bored and my family kept bothering me. But later that night i was like literally whatever- let me just try, i feel relaxed i feel good lemme just try. Here’s how it went.

♡︎

I first started off with a guided meditation then white noise then another guided meditation. I used the meditate, Intend and Pretend Guided meditation by Alunir. Normally i can’t really focus on guided meditations because my thoughts wander so much, but i had meditated several times that day so it wasn’t as bad. As i started the method i felt super relaxed, Like everything i did was effortless, I just stared into the abyss behind my eyelids and focused on my breathing.

Here’s when it started getting fun.

After a while I noticed all the muscles in my body were relaxed, But then as i thought this i remembered, why am i even focusing on my body right now? And then it kinda hit me and i finally let go of all the attachment i have to shifting.

“Well what do you mean you lost all attachment?” I mean just that. I lost all attachment i had to my DR because i realized No matter what my desired reality is never far from me and i always have it one way or another, weather that’s in the 4D or the 3D, It’s always with me even if i’m not thinking about it.

Well you may be thinking. Well what does that have anything to do with focusing on your CR body? Well in that moment when I caught myself focusing on the reality around me rather than the reality within, I let go. I stopped thinking at all, i let all thoughts come to me and stopped forcing myself to think or be aware of anything. And without even realizing it, My visualizations about my DR started coming to me, and not just like thinking about scenarios but it was as if i was staring at my DR bedroom ceiling, I could see everything. i could feel. i could hear, I couldn’t smell nor taste but i wasn’t fully there yet.

What i’m trying to say is I was seeing perfectly clear images through closed eyes. Here’s where it started getting a little frustrating though. (i’m laughing at it now but at the time i was pissed.) Every time i would have an effortless visualization apart of me would ground myself back to my CR and my body here. but every time this happened i just remembered to let go and continued to repeat “I am pure consciousness”

The closest i’ve felt in a long time.

The moment that really caught me and changed my perspective to everything is when i was simply focusing on my DR, My DR body, my bed there, how it smelt in my room, and mind you these thoughts came to me effortlessly. After a few seconds I felt myself begin to slip away. Like i was about to fall right though my bed. And at that moment the thought of my DR actually coming to me, Me waking up there after all these years, The thought of being so “Far away” from here scared the hell out of me for a moment and i immediately grounded myself here.

i’m sure some of you are aware of what i’m talking about. when you feel so close it’s like all of a sudden all the doubts you’ve had slip away and you realize you’re actually about to be somewhere else. it’s a scary feeling for those like me who are so attached to our CR (without realizing it sometimes)

You spend everyday scripting and writing fun scenarios and Maladaptive Daydream about your life there. Till you’re actually in bed slipping away from this reality and about to enter a new one. AND PLEASEEEEE BABIES IM NOT TRYING TO SCARE YOU. SHIFTING IS NOT SCARY. But the thought of being in a whole other reality is obviously something your brain needs to accept first. because it can be a little frighting.

Attachment and Detachment

To sum it all up, My perspective on reality changed last night. It made me realize i’m so much closer to my DR than i think. And attachment to my DR comes easily, But Detachment from my CR is a little harder, and i mean that in a sense of letting go of my fear of not being here.

Anyways i got nothing more to mumble about, happy shifting. Hope this helped in any way.

[bunnyshideawayy]

cassian. great man, wonderful friend, absolutely terrible mate.

we have seen Nesta’s sisters, who arguably have less of a reason, defend her more than Cassian has ever thought about. HELLO?

my issue with cassian acosf and onward is that we are truly expected to believe they he deeply understands Nesta when he’s been shown time and again to never stick up for her and never fully trust her. he does nothing to help her over come and face her traumas / depression, she’s left to do that on her own, but best believe he’s down to fuck and make her hike! (no sarah sex and physical exercise are not cures)

after reading the entire series once and now twice seeing Rhys threatening anyone who dares breath wrong in Feyre’s direction under the guise of just “protecting his mate” i find it extremely hard to believe cassian allowed or even sides with anyone who speaks ill of/to Nesta or threatens her- all of which Rhysand and most of the IC (besides her sisters and Az) do, most of the time while directly in front of cassian in conversations he’s involved in. the most he does is…pout a little? throws a hissy fit? the two times i can remember him even remotely stick up for Nesta he immednantly backtracks as soon as Rhysand pushes back, both times the final decision being put in Feyre’s hands, this continues even into CC3 (and let’s thank the mother Feyre loves her sisters which is something ik yall nesta haters can’t stand.)

let’s move onto something i know yall don’t want to talk about, his verbal abuse. “oh but nesta also said-“ we know what she said, that is not the point. if this man knew all along nesta was his mate and truly wanted to help her heal from her traumas and depression why did he take every chance he could to provoke her? Nesta called Rhysand an asshole, and he IS especially to Nesta, and instead of keeping silent as he does when Rhys/the IC harshly critique her, he immediately gets angry and in her face to defend him. funny he can’t do that with her, his MATE? or let’s talk about this scene

oh okay! that’s totally something you say unprompted to your mate who is severely depressed and traumatized because she won’t eat! she’s totally not shaking because she’s triggered! then to add the lecture “we’ve been here before, too” oh okay! so you admit you know what she feels like (very doubtful although i’m not going to compare their traumas, both are valid he just does not understand her like he thinks he does) it’s patronizing and a little frustrating. she doesn’t want to be there in the first place, purposely throwing a sensitive subject in her face will not magically motivate her or cure her- she is simply doing what she has no choice in. she has been stripped of all autonomy, humanity, and “normality”- she feels alone and valuable in a way she as never felt before and she has NO HELP. none!

i’ll end with the hike. yay more physical activity as punishment- but if i said that was abuse yall will bring up the pregnancy so ill do it for you! Yes, Nesta was wrong to tell Feyre THE WAY SHE DID, she had every right to tell Feyre about her own body and pregnancy, it just shouldn’t have happened the way it did. everyone knew it was wrong to keep it from Feyre, even Cassian, so instead of forcing her to hike a mountain as punishment to ware her down mentally and physically he couldve stood up for both Feyre and Nesta to Rhysand the moment he threatens to KILL NESTA. a simple “hey buddy you knew it was wrong to keep that from Feyre you can’t kill my mate for telling her even if it was out of anger” would suffice. not once during their entire hike or during her breakdown does he reassure her, not even when she is tearing herself apart because she doesn’t feel worthy. don’t even get me started on what happens in CC3.

over all i think Nessian is great and they have some great moments, the end of ACOWAR lives rent free in my mind but i am incredibly disappointed with Cassian. i do feel like Nesta deserves better from everyone (besides Feyre and Elain who, again, are the only ones who i truly believe love her unconditionally.)

anti nesta’s this is not a safe space for you.

[dark-frosted-heart]

I'm His Cherished Doll - Roger Barel

Event bonus story

Things get a bit nsfw toward the end. Jfc that end.

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. Roger is his own warning.

Crown surrounds me, who accidentally took a shrinking drug.

(I need to make a good choice. Who I want to take care of me is-)

Kate: Roger, can you take care of me? (I think being with Roger will be the fastest way to return to normal)

Roger: What a coincidence. I was thinking of sticking to you.

Kate: Huh…

Roger smiles wickedly and grabs me with one hand.

Roger: No way I’m handing an interesting experiment to another guy. Right?

Kate: Right? Wait…

I made the wrong choice?!

Victor: Roger, if you do anything bad to Kate, I, Victor, won’t stay quiet about it!

Roger: Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. Come on, let’s go little lady.

Kate: It’s not like I can go anywhere else with you grabbing me…

Victor: Kate!

Ellis: There they go…

Victor: Wah…I wanted to take care of her. You’re so sneaky Roger.

Harrison: You were pretending to worry about Kate, but really, you just wanted to take care of her.

~~~

Roger sets me down on a desk in his lab.

(Everything looks different than usual)

(Of course they do since I’m tiny now…)

Roger: Hey little lady. Does your skin feel the same as usual?

Roger pokes my cheek with his index finger.

Kate: Oof. H-hold on…

Roger: Hmm, no change here. Then, how about here?

The finger that was touching my cheek starts stroking my neck.

Kate: Ah…

(I just made a weird noise…)

Roger: No change here? You’re still the same sensitive, vocal little lady.

Kate: P-please stop teasing me like that.

I try to remove his finger, but Roger grabs me again.

Frustrated by being in his clutches (literally and figuratively), I flail in his hold.

Kate: Ugh-

Roger: Pfft, haha. Cu~te.

(Honestly, the more you bully someone, the better your smile)

Our interactions are surprisingly the same as usual.

I was anxious because of how my body changed, but with how we’re still acting the same as usual, I feel like things will work out.

(Alright, let’s find out what I can do!)

Kate: Roger, please let me help you with your research. I’ll do my best to return to normal.

Roger: Yeah, of course. Then Kate, you’ll-

Kate: Nn…

(Mm…I…fell asleep? When?)

It’s dark in the basement so I can’t tell for sure, but I’m certain it’s already midnight.

When I was going to help Roger with his research, I apparently fell asleep.

(I have good stamina, but with my body like this, I probably get more tired than usual)

(Huh…?)

At this moment, I realize that I was sleeping on something.

(This is Roger’s vest. Then…)

Roger: …

I look over to see Roger alone at his work table.

Comparing the various test tubes, he pinches his glabella and lets out a deep sigh.

Roger: Ha…

Damn it… Isn’t this it?

(I’ve never seen Roger look so serious before…)

I can’t take my eyes off his side profile.

Even after I became like this, Roger stayed the same.

Roger’s mean, egotistical, and always teases me.

(But this isn’t the same as usual…)

Even if it was my fault, Roger was the one that made the drug I took.

(You were acting like that because you knew I was anxious, weren’t you?)

The more time I spend with Roger, the more I realize just how strong and unwavering he is.

If there’s anyone in the world that can survive on their own, then it’s someone like him.

(Roger’s never needed my support…)

(I know that)

(I know that, but…)

Roger: Hm? Oh, you’re awake, Sleeping Beauty.

Kate: …Yeah. Um, Roger...

Roger: Hm?

Kate: Would you mind lowering your head a bit?

Roger: Sure? No problem, but what’s up?

I approach his bowed head…

(Why do I want to be nice to this person?)

I gently pat his head with my tiny hand.

Kate: Thank you for trying to find a way to get me back to normal. I’d love to return to normal of course, but… But if I can’t, then I’m fine with that too.

Roger: … You’re fine with that, are you. That’s just like our robin.

I’m sure he can see through my bluff.

However, I really wanted to let him know that I’m fine.

(I just wish that I could say it better…)

While I’m sulking over how awkward I was, Roger smiles at me.

Roger: Hey, little lady… If you don’t return to normal, then how about we get married?

Kate: …………huh? M-married?

Roger: I can do research by your side. You can spend your time laughing and  smiling while I’m being mean to you.

Not bad, don’t you think?

I was surprised by his sly grin and how he just said that without hesitation that I couldn’t help but laugh.

Kate: Hehe, I wouldn’t want you to be mean to me for the rest of my life, but maybe that’s okay. 

Roger: Right? Well, I haven’t given up on getting you back to normal either.

Roger sits back in his chair and shuts his eyes.

Roger: I’m gonna nap for a bit. Wake me up in 15 minutes.

Kate: Eh? Then you should lie down properly-

Roger: Zzz…

(He’s already asleep…)

I stare at his face, which looks a little more innocent now that his eyes are closed, and then look down at my hand that had touched his hair earlier.

(He’s selfish, an egoist, and mean, but…)

(Roger’s existence has saved me a couple of times…)

(It’s frustrating but…it’s the absolute truth)

We woke up at the same time to the sound of footsteps from upstairs.

Roger: Mm… Hm? Whoa…Is it morning already?

Kate: Feels…like it?

Roger: I told you to wake me up, but you fell asleep too.

Kate: Sorry. This body tires out easily-

The moment I woke up I noticed some physical discomfort.

Roger: You…

(Huh…?)

Kate: I’m…back to normal? I’m back to normal! Hooray!

I’m so ecstatic that I hug Roger without thinking and I feel his muscular body against mine.

Roger: Did the drug run its course?  No, but a drug that shrinks a person can’t simply-

Kate: It doesn’t matter. All that matters is that I’m back to normal.

Roger: Yeah, you’re right. I’ll figure it out later… At any rate, thank goodness for your good health.

Kate: What a relief. Thanks for being by my side.

Roger: No problem. But I think you’re a little too energetic with the naked cuddling?

Kate: Naked? Ah…

(I’m not wearing anything?!)

It’s only when he pointed it out that I realized I’m not wearing any clothes.

The doll clothes I wore lie abandoned on the floor.

Kate: I’m sorry. I’ll go put something-

Roger: Hey, hold on. What’re you gonna do about “this”?

Roger grabs my hand and brings it to his lower half.

Kate: Eh…Oh, um…Huh?

My cheeks heat up when I feel something firm against my hand.

Kate: Roger…is this…

Roger: When I’m feeling worn out, I just can’t help myself. Besides, it’s like your naked body’s inviting me.

Kate: It’s saying no such thing…

(I need to put something on quickly)

The moment I get up from the chair, Roger pins me down on the work table.

Kate: !

While hovering over me, his rough hand traces my neck.

Like a butterfly specimen, my arms are pinned and I can’t move.

Kate: Ah…Roger…you can’t…

Roger: Oh? Jeez, you should enjoy it, but you’re oddly serious. Then I won’t put it in. That won’t be a problem, right?

Kate: Not putting it in…That’s not the point…

His large hands cover my exposed breasts.

He starts groping my chest.

(Ah…don’t…)

The calluses rub against a sensitive area, sending a tingling sensation through my body.

It’s as if every part of my body’s craving the sweet stimulation. 

Roger: Kate. I haven’t even played with them yet and your nipples are already getting hard. 

Kate: …

Roger: Haha, that’s a nice heartbeat. My ears are picking up everything.

Kate: Don’t listen please!

Roger: Oh? You’re not asking me not to touch you?

Kate: Um…

Roger: Pfft, hahaha. You really are something… You weren’t so bad when you were tiny, but it’s better to talk at the same level.

Kate: …

(Why are you saying that with such a carefree smile?)

(A smile like that)

(...I can’t say no to it)

I wonder how much of this was calculated and how much was his trap.

No matter how much I think about it, I can’t figure it out.

But I can accept his approaching lips-

That I knew for sure.

[arc852]

30. Candlelight

Definition: dim light provided by a candle or candles.

Summary: Grian once again brings up Jimmy living with him instead of in the walls. Unlike the other times though, Grian takes things too far.

G/t: Grian is normal-sized, Jimmy is a borrower

Warnings: Fear, threatening to keep someone, and guilt

Word Count: 1155

AO3 Link

This is does not take place in the BBBCAU, it is it's own seperate au. Just thought I would clarify that.

So, we've had some accidental fearplay this month. How about some on purpose fearplay? Kind of. You'll see what I mean.

I hope you guys enjoy!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 “Whoa, why is it so dark in here?” A small voice suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

 “Power went out.” Grian answered, lighting the last candle. He was careful not to move from his position by the nightstand though, not until he knew exactly where Jimmy was. Thankfully, under the glow of the candle, Grian was able to make out the tiny figure by his feet. It seemed like Jimmy was unfurling his hook, about to use it to climb up the nightstand. Grian let out a little laugh at that before bending down and scooping Jimmy up in one hand.

 “Wha-? Hey!” Jimmy yelled, squirming in Grian’s grip. He settled down quickly though, which told Grian everything was fine.

 “Don’t want you falling cause you can’t see anything.” Grian reasoned, even though he would have picked Jimmy up regardless of if the power had gone out or not. 

 Jimmy huffed and crossed his arms. “I can see perfectly fine. I live in the walls, I’m used to the dark.”

 “Yeah, but you don’t have to.” Grian said. “Live in the walls, I mean.” He heard Jimmy sigh.

 “Grian, we’ve talked about this.” And they have, multiple times. Ever since Grian had met Jimmy, he was trying to convince him that he didn’t need to live in the walls anymore. And every time Jimmy gave reasons why he couldn’t. It was getting a bit tiring, if Grian was being honest.

 Grian huffed. “Right, cause I’m a big scary human and it’s forbidden for little borrowers to even be seen by us. Let alone live with us.” Grian said, not hiding his frustrations as he, gently, bopped the top of Jimmy’s head.

 “Grian…” Jimmy said, voice pained. Grian looked down at him and though it was hard to see his face in just the glow of the candle, Grian could still make out the small expression of fear that had appeared on Jimmy’s face at his tone. Grian sighed. 

 “Yeah, whatever. Just proving your point now, huh?” Grian placed Jimmy on the nightstand and then let himself fall into bed. He laid on his back, staring up at the ceiling, giving Jimmy his space.

 “No, Grian, I-I’m not scared of you.” Jimmy stuttered out and Grian turned his head to the side and raised his eyebrow at him. Jimmy’s face flushed and he turned away. “I’m not…as scared of you.”

 “There you go. No use lying to me or yourself really.” Grian said and then turned his head back toward the ceiling. 

 Jimmy groaned. “You can be so difficult sometimes.” Grian let out a laugh at that. “And it’s not about being scared or not anyway. I do trust you. I just…it's about my independence.”

 “You can live with me out here and still be independent.” Grian tried to reason, looking back over at Jimmy. The borrower was now sitting on the edge of the nightstand, facing Grian. 

 “Not in the same way.” Jimmy said. Grian opened his mouth to argue but Jimmy beat him to it. “Independence means a different thing to us borrowers. We don’t…if I relied on you like that, I don’t even know if I could consider myself a borrower anymore.”

 “Oh come on.” Grian said, suddenly sitting up. He turned his body toward Jimmy, who he now loomed over. Grian pushed back the guilt he felt when Jimmy flinched. “It wouldn’t be like that at all! You would still be you, you would just be able to actually live instead of survive.”

 Jimmy winced. “I…” 

 “Maybe I really don’t understand borrowers very well after all.” Grian said. “Because it makes no sense that you would rather keep surviving like you do, in terrible conditions and always worrying about when you can eat next instead of living here with me, who you know is safe.” 

 “Grian--” Jimmy tried but Grian cut him off, looking him right in the eyes. The glow of the small candle flame casting shadows over both of their faces. 

 “I could keep you here, you know.” Grian said and Jimmy’s breath hitched. 

 “No, you…you wouldn’t…” Jimmy tried but was once again cut off by Grian.

 “Wouldn’t I?” Grian reached down and wrapped a hand around Jimmy’s small body, lifting him off of the nightstand. Immediately, Jimmy started to squirm in his grasp, not knowing where this was going and scared because of that. Grian brought him to eye level. “If I thought things would be better off for you out here with me, I could really easily just…make you stay. Right? I mean, that’s the whole reason you aren’t supposed to reveal yourselves to humans in the first place.”

 “Grian, please stop.” Jimmy said, trying his best to keep the fear out of his voice though he wasn’t doing a great job of that.

 “I could even get you a little hamster cage to keep you in. Or would you prefer a fish tank? Either way, somewhere nice and secure to keep you to make sure you couldn’t run away back into the walls. Now I think that would--”

 “Stop! Please, no, don’t, please…” Jimmy shouted and then trailed off into soft cries. His breathing was shaky at best as tears flowed freely down his cheeks.

 Grian froze and finally really looked at Jimmy. He looked utterly terrified. More terrified than Grian had ever seen him, even when they had first met. Grian’s shoulders slumped as he realized he had gone too far.

 Slowly, carefully, Grian lowered his hand back to the nightstand and released his grip. Jimmy crumpled to a heap as soon as he was free. Grian winced, guilt eating at him. “I-I’m sorry, I’m not…I’m not actually going to do any of that.”

 Jimmy didn’t say anything.

 “I’m…I’m gonna go grab you some water. Okay? Be right back.” Grian stood up and left for the kitchen. He grabbed a water bottle cap and carefully filled it with water before bringing it back to his room. 

 But when he got back, Jimmy was gone.

 Grian took in a deep breath. He should have expected that. He had messed up big time. Of course Jimmy left.

 And he probably wasn’t going to come back, either. 

 Grian groaned and ran a hand down his face. He was so stupid. Why did he have to say those things? Why did he have to scare Jimmy like that? He cared about the borrower, he would never take away his freedom like that. He just…wanted Jimmy to have a better life. And…maybe a selfish part of Grian wanted to see Jimmy more often too.

 Though thanks to him, Grian was probably never going to see Jimmy again. Not that he could blame him.

 Grian sat on his bed and placed the cap full of water on the nightstand. He sat there, staring at the flame of the candle just…thinking. Regretting.

 And he was still there long past when the flame ran out.

[skzhocomments]

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

© all rights reserved by skzhocomments (Tumblr), skzho (Tumblr)/ storminsidemycore (Wattpad), storminsidemycore (AO3)

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

~

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

~

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

~

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

~

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

~

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

~

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

~

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

~

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

~

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

~

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

~

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

~

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N)  Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

---

Alternative Ending

---

Chris's head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and realises that the place looks eerily familiar.

His neck starts hurting the moment he sits up in his chair, but he doesn’t pay the pain much mind, as he is more confused than ever. He recognises the place as his old studio back when he was still working at JYPE. How many years ago was that? Way too many.

The confusion only intensifies when he looks at his hands and sees them devoid of any wrinkles and dark spots, and he immediately gets alerted. He pinches his skin, as if to see if it would hurt, and the pain comes immediately. If this is a dream, it’s a way too realistic one.

He sees his phone lying on the table and stretches to grab it, and once he unlocks it, the picture of you, his favourite, is staring back at him. He swears he was at the cemetery and saw this exact picture on your gravestone just the other day.

The next wave of confusion comes when he notices the date and time. It’s way past 12PM, and the date is your death anniversary, the same year you passed. Only this time around, his phone is not flooding with notifications. The only unread messages are from you, and you seem worried.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come home last night. Do you really want to break up?”

He shoots up the moment he reads it and stops overthinking, dialling your number instead. If this is really a dream, he’s happy he gets to see you one last time.

“Yes.” You answer, your tone slightly annoyed.

“Babe.” His eyes swell up with tears when he hears your voice.

“What?”

“I love you.” He bursts into crying. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve said last night. I need you more than anything. Where are you? At home?”

“Wow, I was expecting you to apologise, but…” You chuckle briefly. “Yes. Are you coming for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He wipes his tears. “I’m coming. Please wait for me.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you.”

~

Chris has never run as fast to his car before. He barely sees the roads and even if it’s been decades, he still remembers the drive between your shared former apartment and the studio. He gets back home in 10 minutes, a record, as the drive usually takes him 20 at least.

He types in your old passcode, and as the door opens, you’re there.

You’re there.

He can’t believe it.

You’re there, alive, and breathing. There are no empty plates and half-drunk glasses of water stained by your lipstick on the table. He looks at the sink, and they’re currently drying. You’ve washed them.

There is no box of tampons on the counter, no jewellery on the coffee table. Your hairbrush is clean, your face serums rearranged. The bed is made.

You’ve cleaned up.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask after you follow him erratically moving from room to room.

“I’m… oh, God. Baby, come here.” He comes and hugs you tightly, starting to cry again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You frown, a bit taken aback by his behaviour. Sure, you’ve fought, but still.

“How… how did you get home last night?”

“Well, initially I was super upset and wanted to walk back home to clear my mind, but I saw a cab in front of the building and the driver called my name, so I assumed you ordered me one. Didn’t you?”

“I… oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” Chris cries even harder, hugging you tighter, until you eventually pull back, truly concerned.

He starts kissing you, apologising over and over and over, and he’s never felt more grateful.

You’re alive. He’s been given a second chance.

[justjams2003]

Between two Gods-4

Paring: Alpha!Thor Odinson x Omega!Reader x Alpha! Clark Kent

Warnings: A/B/O, mating, breeding, threesome, oral sex (both male and female receiving) P in V. Mxm, mxmxw, afab!reader, possessive!Thor, possessive!Clark, guys kissing, rutting, knotting

Masterlist

Part 3~Part 5 (coming soon)

Word count: 2k

Dividers: @benkeibear @poison-aesthetics

When your mates are two gods, your heat is something of a girl’s wet dream. It was honestly more enjoyable than any daydream. Your mates took a week off and in turn your heat was spent with day and nights of knotting. By the end of it, you had to buy a new bed and also new bed sheets. It was rare for any of you to be wearing clothes, except when eating of course.  

You ensured that the moment your heat finished, that you three went house shopping. Though, you struggled to choose. If it was by the woods, it doesn’t have a farm like Clark wants. If it has a farm, it isn’t by the forest, like you want. And if it has both, it isn’t big enough like Thor wants. It was starting to frustrate you. Your own bachelor flat is growing small, especially with all the boxes standing around.  

Or maybe it’s more than that that is irritating you. “Thor! You’re late. Now dinner is cold, and I’ve already packed the plates away. Cold pizza and paper plates for you.” You scold at the God of Thunder, not even greeting him. He frowns, turning to his fellow Alpha. He drops his hammer and hangs up his cape.  

He shakes his head and then, without warning, pulls you closer by the waist and giving you the most passionate kiss. And when you come up for air, the anger has dissipated from your eyes. “Hello, my dear omega. Why yes, I have missed you, my dear.” He gives you his charming smile and then your legs are Jello.   

He then lets you go, after hearing your phone call. He sits down on the couch next to the other Alpha. “Hello, my pretty boy.” Thor smiles, lifting Kal’s chin and giving him a sloppy kiss. “What’s got our girl so fussy?” He asks, pulling the other alien into his side. “It’s the same as yesterday, we’d gone to 5 more house showings and none of them were ‘just right’.”  

“Hi mom,” You call into the phone after picking up Martha’s call. “Hello dear, so nice to hear from you stranger.” You can’t help but laugh. You’ve gotten really close to her over the past few years. “Yeah, I’m sorry. We’ve been so busy. You’d be really happy to hear that we’re trying for pups.” You can hear the excited squeal from the phone.  

“That is such good news!” You can hear the birds in the background. “Not only that, but we’re looking for a new house. Clark wants a farm, Thor wants a million pups so a million rooms and I want something by the forest. Our apartment is already packed up but we haven’t bought any house yet.” She sighs, looking at the state of her normally neat apartment.  

Martha is quiet for a moment. “Why don’t you move in with me?” She asks, and you bite your lip. “I have the farm, it’s right by the forest and it has 6 bedrooms. One for me, one for you three. That leaves four extra bedrooms.” It’s sounds almost too good to be true. It’s exactly what they want. “I’m growing old and I miss the company.” She adds, trying to win you over.  

“Hold on.” You put your own mother-in-law on hold. You scatter over to your partners, plopping in both of their laps. “What if we move in with Clark’s mom? She has the big empty house, the farm, the forest.” You give them the biggest doe eyes you can muster, pushing out your bottom lip.  

“Of course, my lady, whatever makes you happy.” Clark gives a similar reply to Thor. You return to the phone call. “It sounds like a fantastic deal. The boys agree. We can’t wait!” You squeal out, hugging your partners closer before finally saying goodbye to Martha.  

You yawn, stretching out your body. The boys didn’t allow you to lift a single box and yet you still feel exhausted. You’re starving but there is nothing that seems like it would stay down. “Are you alright, dear?” Martha ask, handing her a glass of water. “I don’t know, I’m just so tired and so hungry but so nauseous.” You mutter, swallowing the stomach acid with the water.  

“Dear, that doesn’t just sound like fatigue or a stomach bug.... You said you already had your heat, yes?” You can only nod to her question. “Lucky for you, I prepared for this. There is pregnancy test in your ensuite.” Your feet moved faster than your body. Your partners went to get dinner, not wanting you or Martha to cook after a long day of unpacking.  

You wait in anticipation, sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for the timer to go off. And when it finally does, you feel the panic rise in your throat. Why you’re panicking, you’re not entirely sure. Maybe that once Thor knows, he’s taking you straight to Asgard, no questions. Your legs are shaky, you grab the test from the counter.  

Two pink lines.  

Pregnant. Very pregnant.  

There is a knock at the door. “Hello dear, dinner is here.” It’s Clark, relief forms in your stomach. Your shaky hands open the door. You have to tell them. They’re your Alpha’s. They know what is right for you and your pup. “Are you okay?” He asks, wiping the tears which had fallen without your knowledge.  

Your only reply to him, is the tick in your hand. His brows furrow before you clarify it to him. “I’m pregnant.” It takes a moment to realise in his head, before he scoops you up into his arms. He gasps and yells with glee. So much so that Thor comes running up the stairs. “What is the matter?” He asks, seeing your close embrace.  

“We’re going to be dads!” Kal exclaims, knowing just how choked up you are. A huge grin covers Thor’s face. He pics the both of you up in a huge bear hug. “I can’t believe it!” Tears are forming in his eyes and it too makes you want to cry even more.

“We must haste for Asgard, at once.” Thor exclaims, looking to repack all your clothes. Or even leave them there and dress you completely in Asgardian clothes. Both you and Clark.  

Clark places a hand on Thor’s shoulder. “Please, Thor. We’ve just moved, she hasn’t even had chance to nest yet. I’m sure she wants to tell her brothers too, before we leave.” He reasons, he could smell the anxiety coming from you when Thor came up the stairs. He knows going to Asgard is for the best but, certainly it can wait? 

It doesn’t much but two pairs of whimpering eyes for Thor to cave. “Fine. But we’re not staying past the first trimester.” His voice is stern and there is a hint of Alpha voice. The other mates bare their neck, showing that they submit to these rules. “Can we invite my brothers then, next week?” You ask, placing your hand on his chest.  

“Only if we get kisses.” Clark commands and you smirk at his dominance. He’s so soft at times, you do appreciate it, he and Thor balance each other out perfectly. With that you obey his order. Giving them both a deep sloppy kiss.  

The sun shines through the bright balcony, the sheer white curtains blow in the wind. The bedsheets are dispersed and tangled between legs and arms. All you can see is blue. The light, sky blue of Thor’s eyes, avoiding your own. Then the rich, navy blue of Clark’s, also watching your Alpha’s move carefully.  

Like Thor said, the day after your brothers left, he’d packed up everything and transported you to Asgard. Frigga was so excited to see you again. It was rare that you went to Asgard and it was usually short and sweet visits. You’ve never been here for more than a week and now you’re stuck here for nine months.  

You can feel the burn between your legs, and the sticky mess coating your body still. “Do you have to go?” Clark asks, reaching out for Thor’s hand. The blonde god takes his hand and places a gentle kiss. “I do, I do apologize my loves, but my father has called for me.” He takes your hand and places a kiss as well.  

It’s a strange feeling. Back on earth, whenever Thor was home the both of you would have his full attention. Now that he is back home, everyone wants his attention. His duties as Prince and Alpha take more of his concentration that you thought it would. You’re glad you have your other Alpha, but still.  

When Thor’s gone, you miss him. When Clark’s gone, you miss him.  

Then he bends down and plants a soft kiss on your stark-naked belly, there’s rarely a bump, rubbing circles before eventually standing back up. “Love you, my loves,” he waves goodbye before leaving for his day of duties. You groan at the sunlight and roll over into Clark’s arms.  

He lets out a chuckle and soon he hears your snores again. The maids come in soon though and he asks them to fill the tub. When the time comes, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bathroom. “Noo, let me sleep.” You complain, but when the hot water hits your back the complains die down.  

Soon enough, Superman joins you in the tub. But the silence is so loud and you finally decide enough is enough when Clark lets out a loud sigh. “What’s wrong, my Alpha?” You ask, enjoying his touch as he washes your legs. “Just that. I’m an Alpha, I’m a superhero. I’m the Superman.” You furrow your brows but allow him to speak.  

Again, he sighs, “I spent every day of my life protecting the people of Earth, before you, before Thor. Now, I’m here, mating day and night with lavish amenities and maids attending to my every need.” You can’t help but chuckle and lift yourself into his lap.  

“Oh, my dear, are you feeling a bit unimportant?” You coo, wrapping his curls around your fingers. He laughs again, “Something like that. I can’t help but worry about them. They’re just so destructive to themselves.” Now you really howl at his words.  

He blushes at your laughter. “My love, you do not owe them anything. Their own eradication is not your fault. Think of it like this, when Thor becomes king, the people’s own slaughter will be his fault. Because they chose him to be their protector. The other humans, did not chose you.”  

You smile, hoping that you’re not sounding too insensitive. Also hoping that the words you speak of the Asgardians will never happen. He doesn’t answer, only drawing circles on your skin. “You threw that onto your shoulders only because you’re stronger.”  

He can’t help but grin, you just know him so well. He groans and hides his face in the crook of your neck. “But they’re so fragile!” You roll your eyes at him. “If they’re so fragile, then I’m so fragile! So very weak, a weak human omega. Is that what you’re going to say to your child?”  

Clark knows he’s really dug himself a hole now. “Huh? When your little boy looks up at you and says, ‘daddy I want to be like you some day,’ will you look down and say, ‘no, you’re weak, you half human.’?” It’s a rhetorical question but you can tell he still believes it.  

“No?” He seems uncertain of himself. “Yes, no.” You nod to him, trying to guide him to the right answer. “No, I want you and our pups to stay home forever so that we can protect you. I’m sure Thor agrees.” He nods with a shit eating grin. You shake your head. “Quite the opposite, he’s very excited to take them into battle.”  

Clark’s face goes pale, “The pups will grow up. They will spread their wings and will refuse to listen. They will get hurt. But they will learn from it and so must the humans.” He sighs and pecks your mouth. “What will we do without you?” He asks, picking you up out of the bath after cleaning you.  

“You’d work for 160 hours a week and the other eight hours you’d just have hot gay sex.” You giggle to yourself; the pregnancy has made your tongue a little lose. Clark clicks his tongue at you, “You’ve got such a filthy mouth.” You can’t help but wink at him, “You should know.”  

[eternalsimsstories]

The Merfolk Legacy

Chapter: Temptation and Inspiration

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⚠️ Content Warning⚠️ 

This chapter contains explicit sexual content, themes of desire, and elements of fantasy. Discretion is advised.

Phoenix is one of those creative types; once she gets an idea, she never stops. She had just come from her brother’s coronation, and all she could think about was Amir Blue. 

Why do I keep letting my thoughts drift to him? she wondered.  

He’s not just a distraction; he’s become a part of me. But what does it mean for a mermaid princess to be so entangled with a werewolf? The thought made her stomach twist. Can I really have a normal relationship when my life is dictated by royal expectations?

In her world, mermaids embody grace and duty, bound to the ocean and its traditions. As a princess, Phoenix feels the weight of expectation pressing down on her to marry within her kind, upholding the lineage and maintaining the balance of power beneath the waves. Yet all she craves is a simple, passionate love—something that feels impossibly out of reach.

At the coronation, the air had been thick with anticipation, the scent of sea salt mingling with exotic flowers. The dazzling array of shimmering gowns and regal attire was mesmerizing, but beneath the surface, Phoenix felt a storm brewing within her. As she watched her brother take the throne, pride and joy swelled in her chest, yet a pang of longing for freedom tugged at her heart.

Why can’t I be like everyone else? she thought, grappling with the sharp contrast between her lineage's expectations and her desire for a life driven by passion.

Thinking about how he makes her feel has become the inspiration for her current erotica novel. But still in the dress from the coronation, her hair up in a bun, she felt trapped.

I should change into something more comfortable, she thought, but the urge to write overpowered her. I can’t waste this moment; the words are flowing like water.

___

As the evening wore on, Amir came home late, not in the best mood. Just another night of dealing with pack issues, he thought, frustration simmering beneath the surface. Like most werewolves, he struggled to control his anger, a beast inside him always threatening to surface. The societal pressures were suffocating; he was expected to be a protector and a leader, yet the fear of losing control haunted him.

I don’t want Phoenix to see me like this, he mused. She knows I’m a werewolf, but that doesn’t mean she understands the beast within me. How can I keep her safe when I can’t even control myself?

Ever since moving in with her, everything about their relationship had revolved around physical desire. It was intoxicating but also terrifying. He could smell her from a distance.

She is in heat. Fuck, he cursed internally, feeling his body respond to her scent. Taking a deep breath, he shifted back into his human form. I have to get a hold of myself. If I don’t, I’ll make the same mistakes again like I did in the past.

He hesitated before entering the house, taking a moment to steady himself after the transformation. 

She’s waiting for me, he reminded himself. I can’t let her down. But what if I lose control? What if I hurt her?

___

Phoenix was so wrapped up in her writing that she didn't immediately notice Amir entering the room, watching her type away. He was taken aback by her focus and beauty, her fingers dancing over the keyboard.

“Well hello there, handsome,” Phoenix said, looking up and flashing him a flirty smile. 

“You know, if I were a vampire, I’d say you’re a tasty treat,” he replied, leaning against the doorframe with a playful smirk.

“You mean, I am a tasty treat? What would you do if I were a vampire?” she asked, stepping closer, her gaze locked onto his.

“I’d have you naked on the bed with my face between your legs, ready to eat your pussy,” he said, his voice dropping to a husky whisper.

“You don't have to wait until I’m a vampire. We can do that right now,” she said, her voice dripping with seduction as she walked up to him, feeling the heat build within her.

With that, he grabbed her and kissed her on the lips, their bodies pressing together, igniting a spark that sent shivers down her spine. They kissed deeply, lost in the moment, and she broke the kiss breathlessly.

“I was thinking about you the entire time at the coronation,” she confessed, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Oh really? What was I doing?” he asked, feigning innocence.

“You were sitting around, naked with your big cock on display, just waiting for me to come and pleasure you,” she teased, a wicked grin on her face.

“Really?” he raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

“Yup,” she replied, biting her lip.

Amir glanced around the dimly lit room. I should have set the mood.

“Do you want to shower with me?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

She took his hand, leading him to the bathroom, her heart racing with excitement. 

He always knows how to make me feel wanted, she thought.

He turned the shower on, the sound of water cascading filling the air, a gentle rhythm pulsing with their growing desire. As steam began to rise, he began to remove his clothes. Phoenix stood behind him, unzipping her dress and letting it fall, the fabric whispering against her skin. 

I can't believe we’re about to do this, she thought, anticipation thrumming through her.

Amir stepped into the shower, watching as she slipped out of her underwear, revealing her naked body. 

God, she’s perfect, he thought, desire overwhelming him. She’s everything I never knew I wanted, yet I fear I might ruin it all.

The hot water enveloped them like a lover’s embrace, steam curling around their bodies, thick and intoxicating. He could see her curves, her nipples hardening from the steam, and her pussy glistening with moisture.

Then she stepped into the shower and kissed him, taking his hand and guiding it to her pussy. 

I’ve never craved anyone like this before, he realized, feeling her heat and wetness against his palm.

He kissed her deeply as he explored her, the sound of water splashing around them mixing with her soft gasps. His fingers slid in and out, her pussy swelling with the attention. She moaned in his ear, her breathing becoming more rapid, each sound echoing in the confined space, creating a symphony of pleasure.

I love making her feel this way, he thought, pride swelling within him, but what if she sees me as just a beast?

Then Amir stopped and turned her around. He got down on his knees, the warm water cascading over him as he inhaled the intoxicating scent of her arousal. 

This is what I want; this is where I belong. He licked her pussy for what seemed like an eternity, tasting her juices as they mingled with the water. Her moans grew louder, and he felt powerful knowing he was the one making her feel this good. But am I just a fleeting pleasure in her life?

After a while, he stood up. She looked at him, her eyes filled with lust. He turned her around and pressed her against the wall, the cool tiles contrasting against their heated bodies as he inserted his cock inside her and began to thrust deep and hard.

She was getting close too. His moans echoed through the steam, and she matched his rhythm, breaths mingling in the humid air. Then he exploded inside her, and they both came together, the shower steaming hot from their passionate encounter.

Amir stepped out first and turned the water off. He reached for the towel and dried her off, feeling a sense of intimacy that transcended physicality. He took her hand and led her to the bedroom. 

I want this to last forever, he thought, but I can’t help but wonder if I’m just a momentary escape for her.

Phoenix laid down on the bed, her head on the pillow and eyes closed. 

That was incredible, she thought, relishing the afterglow. Amir got on top of her and started to kiss her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him, smiling.

This is what I want—this connection, she thought, feeling a sense of belonging.

“That was amazing. I have never cum so hard before,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” he said, smiling at her as she kissed him again, reaching over to pull him down onto the bed. 

This is what I want—this connection, she thought, feeling a sense of belonging.

“So, tell me. What did you think of your brother's coronation?” he asked, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

“It was beautiful. And a lot of fun. The ceremony itself was very touching. My brother is going to make a wonderful king.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, relaxing back against the pillows.

“Thank you,” she replied, her heart full.

___

The next morning, Phoenix was the first to get up and headed straight to the pool. She couldn’t stop thinking about the night before. Every moment with Amir felt electric;  

I can’t get enough, she thought, remembering that day at the celebrity event. But what mattered was what happened afterward, when they first had sex.

At the pool, she jumped in, her legs transforming into a fish’s tail. The water enveloped her, cool and refreshing, as she floated on her back, staring up at the sky. All she could do was think about Amir. 

It’s just Amir and no one else, she mused. I’m glad I will never end up like my father or either of my two brothers, cheating and always with a different woman. 

But how long can I keep this up? The thought gnawed at her. 

Yet, Phoenix was here in the now, lying back in the water daydreaming. Amir came out, dressed in jeans and the jacket he got when he was playing professional football for Del Sol Valley. 

Why is he wearing that in this heat? she wondered, but he was handsome no matter what he wore. Amir went to a lounge chair, sat, relaxed, and watched Phoenix float above the water as a mermaid.

She swam towards him. “How did you sleep last night?”

“Good. How did you sleep?” he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I slept well too,” she replied, splashing him playfully.

Amir took his jacket off and sat down at the edge of the pool. “So, what are we going to do today?”

“I’m not sure,” she said, biting her lip. What if I’m not enough for him?

“Why don’t we go shopping?” he suggested, his tone light.

“That sounds like a great idea,” she replied, her heart fluttering at the thought of spending more time with him. I hope he feels as deeply as I do.

To Be Continued....

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