#and i was so afraid they would do it here too

[kashverse]

would babykuna ever get a sibling or would she stay an onlychild?

you’d think, with all your combined wisdom and parenting experience, that you and sukuna would be able to handle another minikuna running around the house. but then, one day, you find mr pickles dangling by his claws from the curtains, a string of glittery beads tangled around his fluffy neck like he’s at some bizarre cat mardi gras. and babykuna? covered head to toe in glue and feathers, looking like the world’s tiniest, angriest chicken. 

“mama!” she screeches, throwing her sticky arms out. “mr pickles won’t stay still so i can make him a princess!” mr pickles lets out a mournful yowl, his eyes screaming, “save me from this tiny human.”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, a sigh escaping you so deep it feels like it’s coming from your soul. “what… what is happening here?” you ask, a little afraid of the answer.

“mr pickles needs to be sparkly for the tea party!” babykuna declares, her little hands clapping together, sending a spray of glitter into the air like she’s some unholy craft fairy.

“and the glue?”

“to make the sparkles stick.”

naturally.

sukuna steps into the chaos, takes one look at his daughter—glue-feathered, glitter-covered, eyes wild with creative madness— and his fat, long-suffering maine coon…and he sighs. a long, weary sigh that only a man who regularly faces down hostile corporate takeovers and boardroom betrayals can muster. “i thought having another kid would be fun,” he mutters, rubbing his temples. “but at this rate, i’m gonna be grey before forty.”

“oh, please,” you snort, wiping glue off of babykuna’s cheek. “you’ll be hot even with grey hair.”

“damn right i will,” he grumbles, grabbing mr pickles from the curtain with one hand, detangling the beads with the other. babykuna blinks up at him, big eyes all innocent. “papa, will you be a sparkly princess too?” 

sukuna stares at her, deadpan. “no.”

“but—”

“no.”

“pleaaaase?” she bats her eyes, a trick she learned from you. sukuna falters. then—

“fine. where’s the glitter?”

“YAY!”

you watch as your fearsome husband—the one who makes grown men cry in the boardroom—gets dragged away by his tiny, sparkly tyrant, already mentally preparing himself to be covered in pink sparkles and feathers. he shoots you a look over his shoulder, one that says “you owe me.” and you just laugh, blowing him a kiss. “you’re doing great, sweetie!”

the look he sends you says he’s mentally planning your revenge, but the tiny smile tugging at his lips gives him away. as mr pickles saunters over to you, now freed from his glittery noose, he flops dramatically onto his side, giving you a look of pure feline misery. “welcome to the club, buddy,” you sigh, petting his fluffy head. “we’re all in this together.” mr pickles just groans, like he’s already over it.

and yeah, maybe the two of you will get grey hairs a little sooner than planned. but with all this chaos and laughter, you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[intheupside]

Crosby to be Canada's 'security blanket' as captain at 4 Nations Face-Off

Indeed, is anyone more deserving of the title of Captain Canada?

“He’s up there,” Tocchet said. “And look, I don’t want to embarrass Sid. But from sitting in the locker room across from Wayne Gretzky, the way Wayne’s demeanor is, the way he acted around his teammates, the way he acted in front of the public, Sid’s got that.

“And then you’ve got the Mark Messier type, not afraid to say things to your teammates if needed at the right time. And I’ve seen Sid do that too, using his voice to let them know something is unacceptable. He’s willing to do that. That to me is a great leader. In all facets. One hundred percent.

“The bottom line: When he puts that jersey on, you can sense the calmness come over the entire country of Canada. It’s almost like he’s our security blanket.”

“From the time I first met him, it’s just the way he always looks to raise the bar,” Bergeron said. “We’ve been teammates and linemates in a lot of these tournaments, and he’s never satisfied. He’s always looking to the next thing. He’s able to enjoy the success but at the same time wanting more. It’s his drive, his determination, there’s a lot of reasons why he’s been so clutch and so important in, what you could say, [is] history.

“He commands respect. I think the country is proud of who he is as a person and how he represents us on the international stage. There’s no missteps. It’s been going on since he’s been 14 years old when they started aiming cameras on him. He’s never had a misstep.”

Bergeron is considered one of the top leaders of his era and won the Mark Messier NHL Leadership Award in 2021, an honor Crosby received in 2010.

“I accomplished a lot in my career,” Bergeron said. “But I have to say, I’m so proud that in my time playing, that Sidney was the face of our league and for Canadian hockey. Well deserved.”

Crosby already had his eyes on the 4 Nations prize five months ago, long before he would officially be given the “C” for Team Canada.

Back in early September, Crosby helped organize an unofficial training camp of sorts under the watchful eye of Andy O’Brien, his longtime trainer, in Vail, Colorado. Among those invited to the event were some of Canada’s top players, including Avalanche center Nathan MacKinnon, who like Crosby is from Cole Harbour; Edmonton Oilers center Connor McDavid; and Toronto Maple Leafs forward Mitch Marner.

Crosby insists it wasn’t an official Canada team-bonding exercise, pointing out that there were players from other countries there as well. At the same time, he admits it was productive for some of the Canadians on hand to get the opportunity to develop chemistry and play together, something that could come in handy at the 4 Nations and the 2026 Olympics.

Marner, for one, was appreciative of the invite extended him by Crosby and O’Brien.

“It was great,” he said. “Getting to know Sid and some of those guys both on and off the ice, well, I was grateful that they asked me to join them.

“You get to know them on and off the ice a bit. Such great guys. And so much talent out there with guys like Sid, MacKinnon and McDavid.”

And, according to Team Canada and Tampa Bay Lightning coach Jon Cooper, it was just another example of Crosby’s leadership ability to bring players together for a common goal.

“It’s what he does,” Cooper said. “It’s who he is.

“Look at what he did [last] month when we were in Pittsburgh.”

Cooper was referring to a postgame scene after his team had defeated Crosby and the Penguins 5-2 on Jan. 12, a game in which Tampa Bay scored three goals in the final 3:03 to break a 2-2 tie. The uber-competitive Crosby was upset that victory had eluded the Penguins, but still took time to see Cooper afterward to chat about the 4 Nations.

At one point, Crosby asked Cooper to bring out Lightning forwards Brayden Point, Brandon Hagel and Anthony Cirelli, his future 4 Nations teammates, to talk about the upcoming tournament.

“He here is, angry that his team had just lost a game, and he put that aside to talk Team Canada with them,” Cooper said. “They sat there for 20 minutes. They were like kids in a candy store.

“That right there is what true leadership is.”

And, according to Tocchet, what Crosby is all about.

“It’s unbelievable,” Tocchet said. “He’s a guy that carries the torch, and is willing to pass the torch on when he’s done.

“That’s what he’s doing with Cirelli, Hagel, those guys. He basically comes in and says, ‘Hey, you guys are my teammates in a month, I just want to get to know you real quick and let you know what’s at stake.’ He’s done it with other players. I just think it goes so far with his teammates. They legitimately badly want to play with him, to be his teammate.”

[odinsblog]

@the-explorers-journal

I do not disagree with what you’ve said here. I would only like to add: SOMETIMES it absolutely is easier to destroy something than to create meaningful change … however … sometimes effecting long lasting, meaningful change is quite easy.

I am loathe to use him as even a negative example, but by denying Obama the opportunity to seat his SCOTUS choice (ineffective and milquetoast as Merrick Garland is), Mitch McConnell very easily made a long lasting change. Trump and the Republicans—even though some of their edicts will undoubtedly be overturned—are giving a master class on how easy it is to make lasting change (yes, even though it’s change for the worse).

And I want to be absolutely crystal clear here on two things:

1) Not all marginalized and oppressed people who are desperate for meaningful change are bomb-throwers who are being “too impatient�� or “not being pragmatic enough.” I feel (perhaps wrongly) as though that may have been an unspoken implication/accusation in what you said in your post. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had quite a lot to say about members of the oppressor class calmly calling for “patience” and “pragmatism” from the people who are being marginalized and oppressed 24/7/365. The people who aren’t hurting, who have some privileges - they do not get to dictate what is or is not “the appropriate timeframe” for change to occur. Time and pragmatism™ are luxuries that many oppressed people simply cannot afford. Taking the same approach for every problem isn’t wise; sometimes pragmatism might actually be the wisest course of action, but many other times, we need to adhere to the fierce urgency of NOW!

2) As a very simple example, I want to highlight times (for immigration policy and to raise the minimum wage) when Joe Biden and the Democrats actually could have effected long lasting and meaningful change, but opted not to because they were supposedly “overridden” by an unelected official—the Senate Parliamentarian—who Republicans have overridden multiple times before to swiftly make their changes into longer lasting law.

I guess what I’m saying is, sometimes you need elected officials in power who not only “understand” the pain of marginalized groups, but who also actually want to be supporters and active partners with said groups to help make long lasting, meaningful change possible.

Being practical, pragmatic and patient absolutely do have their virtues and benefits. No doubt. BUT … sometimes, maybe just maybe, sometimes simply taking full advantage of a low hanging opportunity that is right in front of you, that is also prudent, practical and pragmatic,no??

Sometimes, being “pragmatic” just means fucking going for it while you still can! Stated differently, do all the good you can while you have the power to do so, without worrying about whether or not your opponents will say mean things about you. On this concept, Republicans understand and execute. Republicans sure as shit were not worried about what Democrats might think or say about them as they rolled back Roe, elected a fascist, and cheered for a Nazi doing a Nazi salute at the presidential inauguration.

I am not suggesting that Democrats break the law and lie and disinform voters the way that Republicans always do. But what I am suggesting is that Democrats swing at slow moving balls that lazily come straight across the plate. They don’t gotta swing at everything, but they dO gotta stop trying to bunt at absolutely everything and anything. In other words, they cannot be so damned afraid of (gasp!) offending conservative voters who aren’t everrrr going to vote for Democrats in significant numbers.

Democrats have already tried this strategy:

Maybe just for shits and giggles, they could try acquiescing to … Idk … the progressive base??

And before anyone goes there, I am not a “traitor” or a closet Republican because I’m demanding that my elected officials (Democrats) work harder for me than for white conservative voters. They work for me, allegedly.

Sometimes, the easiest and best way to help people is to just help them, without making any political calculations. Maybe not always, but damn, having those immigration laws and a higher federal minimum wage codified into law would have helped BIG time. And it was before Trump stacked the court.

Sometimes patience is a virtue. Sometimes it ain’t.

And quite frankly, if the Democrats cannot stop Republican fascists, then what good are they?

Anyway, I really hope that I didn’t come across as hostile or anything. But I am unambiguously Black and I have LGBTQ family members, and non-English speaking relatives, and I am feeling the fierce urgency of, not now, but right now. ✌🏿🫡

[gamorahww]

𝐅𝐈𝐘𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐁𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐁𝐑𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐘 ━ 𝑑𝑎𝑦 2. 𝑑𝑎𝑛𝑐𝑖𝑛𝑔 - 𝑙𝑖𝑏𝑟𝑎𝑟𝑦 𝑣𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑜𝑧𝑑𝑢𝑠𝑡

There are two lenses through which the pivotal dance sequences in Dancing Through Life can be viewed.

First, let’s look at what Jon Chu has to say:

"Alice (Brooks, director of photography) and I always talked about how the truth is in the darkness and the lie is in the light. Dancing Through Life is a lie, for instance, so there is a lot of light coming in. By the time we get to the Ozdust, we’re playing in the shadows."

Fiyero’s dance = the lie vs Elphaba’s dance = the truth

And I love that.

Okay, moving on—parallels! Look at them.

The way the song is structured, Fiyero arrives at school, and as he starts dancing, more and more people in the library follow his movements exactly. He even says, "Once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students falls to me." This tells us that this is his MO—everywhere he goes, he starts dancing, and people inevitably follow. He’s a natural leader, effortlessly pulling people into his rhythm with charm and charisma.

And, as Jon Chu confirms, this whole scene is bathed in light—because it’s all a huge lie.

Elphaba’s dance, on the other hand, is the complete opposite. No one can naturally match her movements. People don’t flock to her—they avoid her. They’re afraid of her. Even Galinda, the first to join her, is actively discouraged from doing so, and yet—she does anyway.

The Ozdust duet is a beautiful microcosm of Elphaba’s struggles and overarching story. Without Galinda stepping in, no one else would have joined. And yet, by the end of the scene, everyone is dancing her dance—because of Galinda.

But here’s the real point:

Fiyero is doing Elphaba’s dance too.

And as the lyrics "your life could end up changing" play, he stares after her—longingly.

[midnight-mourning]

Roses are Red

💘💘Midnight's DCA Valentine's Day 2💘💘

I was feeling, something, when I wrote this, and by that i mean lots of flirting and such ajsldkfjklsjdf

Prompt: Gardeners Sun and Moon preparing a special bunch of roses for their dear Y/N and hiding an engagement ring in a single special rose. Y/N happily saying yes and giving the boys a smooch!

Word Count: 2403

Read here if you prefer ao3!

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

You stand by the kitchen door, hand on your hip and brow raised. 

"This again?" You ask the moon-themed bot in front of you, as he leans one elbow on the counter. Awkwardly, mind you, with his height. 

He shrugs, despite very clearly blocking the door to outside. "I'm afraid I don't follow, Sweet."

You cross your arms, nodding to behind him. "Okay, then may I get past you to go outside?"

"Why bother?" He tsks. "Dreadful weather today, wouldn't you rather stay inside?"

You wrinkle your nose. "No. I think it's a lovely morning actually, based on how sunny it is, and the nice breeze coming in through the window. I'd like to read my book on the swing." 

You'd gotten up extra early for exactly this reason. You were hoping if you woke up just a bit sooner, you could sneak out and enjoy the garden as you'd so been hoping to. It was a bit frustrating that you had to put it that way. 'Sneaking out' of your own home. But that's what it had come to at this point. 

Loved them as you did, but your gardeners had been exceedingly... difficult over the course of the last month or so. Despite the spring months finally being upon you, the prime time to truly enjoy the garden and appreciate their hard work, you'd been banned from the space entirely. 

Keep in mind, they were always bashful when it came to their work, and would sometimes not let you see their handiwork in the early days of spring since it wasn't 'complete' until all the flowers bloomed. This was different however, as you hadn't been barred from seeing the castle gardens just mere yards from your residence, nor the plants being tended to in the greenhouse.

No, it was specifically what they were working on in your garden—the walls far too high for you to peek over, unfortunately—where the source of your woes lied. Apparently. They were being incredibly secretive about the whole affair, going so far as to deny outright that you were banned from your own space.

Or in this case, making excuses. 

"Ah, but the weather could change at any time. Surely you'd rather not take the risk and spend your time doing something else?"

You lean back on the kitchen counter. "Like?"

"Reading your book inside, of course." Moon nods, straightening and walking over to you. "Even better, you can read it to me, out on the parlor couch, perhaps. I could hold you, or better yet, you could hold me. I've a terrible crink in my neck that only resting in your lap can resolve I fear. What do you say?"

You tilt your chin up as he now stands in front of you, towering over you even when he sets his hands on the counter on either side of you. Not so subtly blocking you in. 

You hum. "Don't you have work to do?"

"Sun can handle himself for a bit, and really I think I've more than earned a morning's rest." He leans down so your faces are only a few inches apart. "You wouldn't deny your poor Beloved a break, Star. Right?"

You huff, though the temptation to take him up on his offer—and more—was at an all time high. "Beloved is a bit of a stretch at the moment."

"Is it now—" Just as the gap was about to close between you, Moon is gone. He makes a strangled noise of surprise as he's yanked back by a half-gloved yellow hand.

Sun releases him after a moment, cheery as can be. "More than earned a morning's rest, hm? Last I recall you didn't spend six hours potting pansies without a break, did you?"

Moon grumbles, but doesn't retaliate further than that. 

Before you can say anything, Sun turns to you, seeming to know what you were going to say. "The garden is off limits for the time being, Sunbeam. I might suggest the castle grounds for a good location instead. Once we've finished up here this morning I'd be happy to join you. I'll even bring lunch if you'd like." He finally finishes putting on his glove, adjusting his work apron. 

"And just where do I fit into that scenario?" His counterpart asks, searching around for his own outerwear.

Sun's grin widens further, eyes upturned crescents. "Why, you'll be busy trimming the hedges that you've been putting off all week, of course."

"That all sounds lovely, though I do feel bad for Moon." You step closer to the sunny animatronic, arms coming up to wrap around his neck. "But I do have to press you on the reason for why I can't access part of my own home. Which you live in, mind you."

He sadly doesn't buy into your scheme, hand cupping your cheek as his rays click. "You'll find out soon enough. No need to go spoiling the surprise at this time. Go enjoy your morning, Love." He presses a kiss to your forehead and you scoff lightly, despite the heat rising to your cheeks. 

"Fine. But no more putting mud on the windows, while I'm gone. Makes me feel like I'm living in a cave." You hadn't expected them to go to such lengths, though knowing them you weren't surprised either. 

"No promises~"

Later on in the day you do in fact, enjoy a picnic with Sun, Moon nearby as he begrudgingly trims hedges. Though, another week goes by, and you still can't enter the garden. Not to mention, the flirty banter you typically so easily exchange has dropped to practically nothing. 

Your advances are avoided, to the point you can hardly even get a goodnight or good morning kiss. Which, given that you were used to being overwhelmed with affection, being underwhelmed is, incredibly deflating. So, you decide to change your tactic. 

You wait until one of them is alone, in this case Sun, to strike. While he may act very blunt and avoidant with Moon around, alone you think you can get him to slip up and finally tell you what they're up to. 

You find him on a quiet rainy afternoon hard at work in the greenhouse. The rain pitter-patters softly against the glass far above, the space cast in a bit of shadow from the grey sky and plants that are all encompassing throughout. 

He's at a workbench, tending to a group of sickly looking hydrangeas when you find him. He jumps a fraction when your arms wrap around him, head resting on his shoulder as you watch him work. 

"Oh, hello, Starlight. What brings you here in these conditions?" Despite the evenness of his tone you can hear a tinge of anxiety underneath. 

Your hands shift to slide across his arms, causing him to freeze at your touch. "Was curious about you. Wanted to make sure you were alright."

"Well, as you can see, I'm simply just—" He hesitates as you turn to kiss one of his rays. "B-busy. Would hate for these hydrangeas to wither away because of a lack of care."

You chuckle, kissing him again. "I suppose so. What a pity." Just as he turns to face you, you pull back from him, moving to sit on the workbench instead. 

"Something else you need, Sweetpea?" Sun chuckles nervously, you can see the smallest hint of steam arising from him.

You have to smother your smirk to keep your own composure. "Nope, just want to watch you work is all. Don't mind me."

"Ah, of course."

For several minutes there's nothing but muted clinking and such as Sun works, posture stiff as you keep your eyes—and hands—on him. Just simple little touches, traces patterns on his forearms or handing him things every so often. It only spurs you further as you notice your plan is working, the flustered avoidance you'd been experiencing is now just fluster, and you see your chance. 

"You know. There is something else I'm thinking you could help with." You reach out and cup his chin. "If you're willing, that is."

You see his rays flutter just a tad. "That so?" 

"Mhm. It'd be really easy for you to do too. And if you do, I might have something for you in return." You lean in, just hovering your lips above his smile. 

He chuckles, eyes-lidded. "A trade then? I'm certainly not opposed."

"I was hoping you wouldn't be. Now, close your eyes—hey!" You're suddenly plucked off the bench and hauled over a shoulder by blue and white hands. Quickly marched away from a startled and utterly confused Sun, as you see when you glance back. 

Moon sets you down by the door to the greenhouse, displeased grin on his features. "Dirty tricks like that belong in the garden, Moonflower."

"Well, I'm not allowed in the garden, so I had to resort to other locations." You huff, brushing off your clothes. "Was that really necessary?"

He bends to your level, eye to eye and inches apart. "It was."

"You're not on my kiss list now, I hope you know that." 

Moon's hands cup your cheeks, faceplate spinning once. "What a shame then, that you're on mine."

He kisses you once, then steps back. 

"Tomorrow, if the weather clears up, tomorrow you can go in the garden as you choose. I promise." His thumb rubs against your cheek, troubled look in his eyes before he shakes his head. 

You keep your frown, despite the heat on your face, and nod. "Tomorrow, then."

You stomp out of the greenhouse and into the rain in the hopes of making it clear your resolve is temporary. In reality you think it just makes you cold, and wet. 

But, the next morning the sun peeks through the clouds and after a brief and somewhat quiet breakfast, your gardeners finally relent. 

While you're beaming with excitement, they both seem nervous as can be. You're so caught up in all the activities you wish to do that you're only half catching the anxious looks and fidgeted movements they share between each other. 

Sun's hands are clasped in front of him as he speaks. "We're sorry it's taken so long, Love. We had several setbacks—" He sends a glare to Moon, who shrugs. "But, we hope you like it."

"And if you don't, just keep it to yourself." Moon's hand rests on your shoulder with a snicker, though there's still that nervous hint to his tone. 

You scoff at the two of them. "I always love what the two of you create. Regardless of whether it's for me or anyone else." 

With a final sigh, Sun steps out of your way and you all but skip over to and out the door, the warm morning light hitting your skin like an embrace. The garden sparkles from the dew and the day prior's rain. All across—

"Roses?" You ask, in awe at the sheer abundance of them. 

Several varieties and colors cover the expanse of the garden, from the edges to the center. Every flower bed is filled to the brim with them. Yes, there's the typical flowers and bushes they plant as well, sprinkled in here and there. Primarily, however, are the roses. 

You walk through the grass with a sense of curiosity at the scenery around you. It's breathtaking, but not the least bit suffocating. Brimming with life, but not crowded. It was, in a way, perfect. 

Though, you don't understand why they tried so hard to hide this from you. Yes, it was stunning, but the secrecy you just couldn't—

As you turn around again, you see the two of them standing there, together, with a large bouquet in their hands. It consists of bright yellow and deep purple—near black—roses. 

"These are for you, if you hadn't already guessed." Moon's gaze is elsewhere as he holds the flowers out with his counterpart. 

Sun's rays are spinning quickly as you flick your gaze to him, he coughs and also looks away. "We, we hope it's to your taste. We got what we thought would suit you best."

You're too stunned to really think on the words. "Oh, these are, incredible." You say, gently taking the neatly wrapped bouquet from them. "For me, really? You didn't need to—"

Inspecting the flowers closer, you realize that in the center of the cluster, there's something shimmering in the middle of a rose. This one is different from all the others. Its center is yellow, but the outer petals expand out into that deep violet, with speckles of contrast all throughout. Lying in the very center however, is a ring. 

It clicks then for you. 

"This needed to be special, to show how much you mean to us, hence all the preparation." Sun states. 

Moon continues. "An ordinary flower wouldn't do you justice, nor would an ordinary proposal. The garden served as the best place to refine both."

You nod slowly, feeling a little more than just choked up. 

"Is, are you, will you—" Sun stops himself. 

"Would you do these two humble fools the honor of having your hand?" Moon asks. 

"Yes, that."

You nod again, quicker now, face on fire and tears pricking your eyes. "Yes, yes, absolutely yes!"

Before either can react you shift the bouquet so you can grab them both by their shirts, planting a kiss to each of their smiles several times. 

Breathless, you pull back to hug them both. "I would have taken just a simple stroll by the lake, you didn't have to go through all this trouble just for me. But know I appreciate it more than anything. Thank you, I love you. So, so much."

Based on the clicks and whirls that emit from the two of them, and the bits of steam, you think they're as overwhelmed as you in that moment. Sun's lop-sided grin and Moon's half-lidded daze makes you chuckle. 

"Duly noted." Sun states. 

Moon nods. "Don't spend four years seeding, growing, and experimenting with roses next time. Understood."

"Four years?" Your brows shoot up. "But we met just roughly four years ago."

"We know. We started on this about a week in."

At this you shake your head, laughing outright. You give them another kiss, and revel in that moment. 

It's going to be one you cherish for years to come.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

Thank you for the lovely request @amarynthian-chronicles!! I love how you always write the boys with a sense of whismy and charisma so I tried to channel that for this hehe ^^

Tag list (if you would like added, simply say so!):

@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8 @luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @milosmantis @robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva @juukai @crystalmagpie447 @mothgutz236 @lizyxml @divinit3a @amarynthian-chronicles @crystalfay @that-one-unknown-artist @rosescarletful

[imsofreakingtired]

sevika gets drunk and ends up forgetting about her own wife and ends up in the brothel, and reader end up knowing all, but dont have courage enough to confront her, but she noticed the changes on your behavior like, dont wanting kisses often, dont wanting to cudlle at nigh or worried when she tells you that she have to work and etc.

(I am obsseeeed how you write angst, mwah mwah)

- 🧸

ohh absolutely. i love that idea<3 also tysmm!

leave you with nothing

content warning(s): idiot lesbians (slight angst) (not too bad i swear)

"are you sick of me? would you like to be? i'm trying to tell you something something that i've already said"

~~~

i think she would get drunk only when work was really stressing her out. or if her sense of self-worth is just at an all-time low (i’m thinking of the time silco dead up ordered her to help with a dead body, which was shocking even to renni, who was literally the mother of the victim.) when she feels trapped, hopeless, powerless, like the enterprise isn’t getting zaun anywhere closer to its ultimate goal. she doesn’t want to confide in you about this, she wants to keep up a front of stoic confidence to you, because she’s afraid if she reveals herself to be vulnerable you will leave her. 

so she drinks her troubles away and tells herself she’ll clear everything up to you in the morning if you ask why she came home late, she tells herself she’ll just play a round of cards or two with her drinking mates, that you’ll never know the difference (never thinks she’s more sober than when she’s stinking drunk.) 

one drink leads to another and she’s vaguely aware of her desire for something else that night - a woman’s touch, a woman’s voice, someone to hold her and tell her she is doing alright. she’s too drunk to remember where she’s felt this before, who has held her like this, and all she is aware of is an all-consuming loneliness that threatens to devour her alive. she’s thrown back into the old days before she met you, when all that awaited her after a hard day’s work was an empty apartment strewn with emptier liquor bottles. she doesn’t want to go back to this home. 

so she makes her way to babette’s, incredibly calm and collected—she’s good at playing sober when she wants to, and babette is surprised to see her check in— isn’t she married? — but she asks no questions and Sevika sees a woman who kind of looks like you. the eyes. the shape of the face. the hips, the way she moves in the dusky light. she picks her immediately. 

she’s too drunk to care about how it might look, asking the woman if it’s alright if she just lay with her head in the woman’s lap. telling her to stroke her hair and let her sleep for a while. even on the walk here she was hot with desire, but now she just wants to rest and hear the pretty words you would whisper in her ear when you thought she was asleep. 

she comes home at around 4 in the morning and promptly passes out on the couch, not even bothering to change. smelling of someone else’s perfume. you find her there in the morning and she doesn’t remember a single thing except that the coins in her pocket are gone. 

you know the signs; you’re not stupid, but you don’t want to think the worst. until you overhear Chuck talking to some of the patrons at the last drop. 

“yeah, Sevika was here, swept the table and then left in the middle of the round talking about Babette’s.” “Babette’s?? doesn’t she have a wife?” 

you wander through the rooms in a daze for the rest of the day as you wait for Sevika to come home. you’re furious at first, then you’re cold with dread. was it you? had you done something wrong to make her want something else, someone else? 

you don’t want to confront her, you’ve convinced yourself by now that whatever it was, it must have been something you did wrong, and even though you can’t think of a single time Sevika seemed angry or even unhappy with you, you can’t bring yourself to start the conversation. 

she comes home tired and her eyes light up when she sees you. when she tries to kiss you, you turn your face away. her hand reaches for your waist, you dodge her touch. 

“baby, what’s with you?” she asks. “i smell funny or what?”

yeah, you smell of babette’s. you smell of liquor. you smell of lies. 

“nothing. i’m tired. you want dinner?” 

“i ate already,” she says. “i’m going to bed.” 

okay, so we’re playing ignorant, you think. two can play at that game. 

as the days go on you avoid her more and more. you still clean up after her in the apartment, cook her meals, wash and mend her clothes as usual. but you don’t stay up waiting for her to come home, and you don’t let her kiss you in bed. Sevika’s at a complete loss—she’s never seen you this way before. unlike you, she’d never wonder if maybe she were at fault. if she feels she hasn’t done wrong, she’d stick to that conviction to the bitter end. but it exasperates her, the way you elude her touches, answer her with monosyllables, stare at her with a strange apprehension in your eyes when you think she isn’t looking. 

“i’m working late tonight,” she tells you one day. “don’t wait up.” 

you feel your heart drop. she’s already a regular for someone at babette’s, you know it. 

“what time do you think you’ll be back?” you ask, a little too quickly. 

she looks at you oddly. you’ve never asked her this before. “i’ll be back when i’m back.” her brows furrow in concern. “why, is something wrong?” 

“no,” you say. 

after she leaves you pace the apartment for about an hour before making up your mind and running out into the street. hood over your face so you won’t be recognized, you run straight to Babette’s and burst through the doors, ignoring the strange looks you receive. no one deters you—you were also a frequent patron before you met Sevika, but you see the workers look at you and whisper to one another. it only confirms your suspicions. you reach Babette’s office and she looks up at you in surprise. 

“can i help you, hon?” 

“Sevika,” you say breathlessly. “how many times has she checked in here?” 

her brows lift. she checks her records. “i don’t do this for anyone, you know - confidential information. but since you’re her wife…”

“how many times, please?” 

she looks up at you. “just once. a month ago. she seemed inebriated. stayed only for two hours.” 

just once? and drunk? Sevika, drunk? you couldn’t imagine it if you tried.

you walk back out of the brothel, barely thinking of where you’re going, barely thinking at all, when you hear a familiar voice call out your name. 

Sevika’s walking swiftly down the street towards you, her eyes dark. 

“what are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing your wrist. 

“what am I doing here?” you shoot back. “i’m here finding out what you were doing here!” 

she looks up at the sign of Babette’s place, as if she can’t understand what you mean. “i haven’t stepped foot in this place,” she growls. 

“Babette’s records say otherwise.” your voice is cold. 

then it all comes back to her at once. Sevika’s lips part slightly as she recalls that night, the desperation, the way she had lain in another woman’s lap. 

“baby,” she says. “listen.” 

“i’m done listening,” you snap, and turn on your heel. you walk away from her, leaving her behind on the street outside Babette’s.  

~~~

note: idk why this idea struck me as so funny i think i'm sleep deprived lol. obviously she will explain herself as best as she can and you'll forgive her. she sleeps on the couch tonight though.

~~~

taglist~ @notlores @demothers-empty-blog @theyluvbix @archangeldyke-all @prettyinpink69 @beatdariceee @sevikaaaalover @intrnetrbl @00valentina-writes00 @zelluna @mamas-evil-hag @sevikassluttywaist @justhereforsubsevika

[revelboo]

This is all your fault. 🤣 They have been so much fun to put together!

I am loving all your stories, especially Everything is Alright. The boys are such asshats! I'm looking forward to Reader putting them in their place.

The Blokees are adorable, especially the minis. I kind of want to just accrue them and let them ride on my dash. And reader is definitely not happy with any of them right now, but is beginning to realize they have leverage

Everything Is Alright Pt 124

IDW Starscream x Reader, Megatron x Reader, Soundwave x Reader

• Starscream expects you to yell some more. To get angrier. Instead you just offer them a flat, empty smile and make a show of looking over the edge of the berth. And a whisper of fear twists through his spark. Wings drawing tight to his frame, Starscream isn’t sure what that expression of yours is, but he doesn’t like it. Hadn’t meant to just say all that in front of you, but it’s out there now. Had meant to hurt Megatron, not you. And Soundwave is slowly approaching you, frame tense. What is he picking up from you?

• “It occurs to me that you two need me a lot more than I need you. And I’m just one little, helpless human, right? You can bully me into whatever you want and there’s nothing I can do.” Heart racing, you keep an eye on Soundwave. Because he’s clued in to your mindset and he’s edging closer in slow movements like you’re a stray he’s trying not to spook into running. Star’s wings flare out slightly with your words, but Megatron is just frowning at you. “But lots of things can happen to me. I could fall off of here. It’s a long way down, isn’t it?” Ignoring Star and Soundwave, you focus on Megatron. Watch those optics narrow. “I don’t think I’d cope very well if something happened to my world and my people, you know? But nothing’s going to happen, because you’re going to leave my world alone. As a wedding gift.”

• Wedding? A human thing? “You think you can make demands of me?” Megatron ask, fighting to keep from smiling as you stare him down. Why is your anger so appealing? Makes him want to provoke you just to see how far you’ll go, because he doesn’t believe for a moment that you’ll actually try anything. There’s your equally helpless sparkling you saddled him with to worry about. It’s an empty threat and maybe it bothers him that you’re scared enough to make it. Because you are right about one thing. Anything could happen to you and his life depends on you staying safe. And despite himself, he’d prefer you to be happy, so tired of fighting all the time and don’t want to fight you.

• “Not a demand. A present for your bonded mate,” you say, glancing at Soundwave as he stops short of you and holds out a hand. Asking you to come away from the edge, because he’s afraid you might accidentally fall. That Megatron might push you into something rash. “For our sparkling,” you add, look up at him, not Megatron. And it’s a relief when you place that little hand in his and let him pull you to him. Wishes you wouldn’t try to push Megatron, but understands why you’re doing it. “Because this is their home, too.” Understands the game you’re playing and doesn’t like it. And he’s the outsider here now, not bonded to you anymore because of Starscream. The first bond had been all need and desire. He hasn’t considered the consequences of his actions if you’d accepted him, but he still wants it. Still wants you. Even if it’s just this, trapped on the outside acting as mediator to keep you safe.

• Crossing the berth to you and Soundwave, his wings drop, flicking guiltily when you look at him. Knows you’re mad at him, too, but can’t stop reaching for you. And his spark aches when you take a slow breath and catch his hand, tugging him to you. “It’s a reasonable request,” he says, knowing it’s not his call to make, but he’d give you this if it would make you happy. Hadn’t really cared about this mudball beyond that you’re on it. Wants to ask what a wedding is, if it’s some kind of bonding ceremony, but he just looks at Megatron in challenge instead. Watches the warlord vent in exasperation at the three of you, optics fixed on you.

• Heart still racing as you lace your fingers with Starscream’s servos and glare defiantly up at Megatron. Still angry at all three of them, but Star and Soundwave are at least taking your side. Or they just don’t want you angry with them and are trying to get back in your good graces. It’s hard to tell with them sometimes. “You really are more trouble than you’re worth,” Megatron growls, shoving off the berth and striding to the door. “Mining and refining energon will continue as planned.” And your breath catches, fingers gripping Star’s servos as Megatron hesitates, back to all of you. “But I suppose this world could be declared a protected nature reserve. Since our species are compatible and I’d hate to wipe out any potential resources.” That’s sort of a victory, right? Why doesn’t it make you feel better, though? Because you might have saved your world but accidentally turned the Decepticons loose on your people to save their own declining race. Well, shit.

Previous

Next

[pomefioredove]

can i order a sugar cookie, #18, with frosting and dry fruit please 💕💕 love your work

coughs weakly

order #18, sugar with frosting, dry fruit

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ intent to bite

summary: a miscommunication leads to sharing a small bed with lilia tropes: only one bed, first kiss characters: lilia additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, who is an adult, a lil suggestive

"Told you this was a bad idea," Grim mumbles.

"Why am I stuck with Sebek, anyway?! I should be with my hench-human!"

You hold a finger to your lips. So much for hoping Grim would mind his manners on this trip.

"We've been over this," Silver says, carrying a six or seven bags inside the house. "Malleus will take the first guest room, Lilia and the Prefect will take the second, because it has two beds. Sebek and I are sleeping in the lounge, where there's a dog bed for you."

"I'm no dog!"

"That's not-" Silver sighs, looking to you for help. You have nothing.

Then, there's breath on your neck and a voice in your ear. "Oh, don't look so glum. It'll be a fine bonding experience for you boys!"

You jolt, and Lilia giggles into your ear, the airy, cheerful sound almost as teasing as the prank.

Grim sighs. "I bet Sebek snores like a lawn mower..."

"And you don't?" you mutter, much to Lilia's delight.

"Khee hee. Personally, I'm tickled by this! The Zigvolt family is as welcoming as ever. Oh, Malleus, do you need help with that?"

The smaller fae leaves to hold the door open for Malleus, while Grim repeats "tickled??" in a grumble. Silver sighs again.

"It's been a long journey. We'll all feel better once we've slept,"

"This can't be right,"

You stand in the narrow doorway, overnight bag in hand. The guest room is dark, but you can still feel how small it is. There's no way two people can fit in here.

Lilia peers over your shoulder. "What's- ah. I see,"

Your eyes adjust to the darkness. There's only one. There's only one bed.

"Now, this is unfortunate. Our rooms must have been mixed up. And Malleus has already retired, poor thing..."

You look at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Do? Why, sleep, of course,"

"Where?"

Lilia smiles and pats your head, as if you were an adorable kitty cat rather than a very tired and disgruntled adult after a full day of travel.

"In bed, my dear. Unless you were planning on taking the bath,"

He slips under your arm and into the room, tossing his bag on the floor with no regard or interest for the clothes and trinkets that spill from it.

You follow, putting your own things away as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. "Well?"

"...You can't honestly act as if this is normal,"

Lilia giggles. "What are you so afraid of? I'm not going to eat you,"

You listen, if only a little, sitting at the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible. Why is this making you so nervous?

"I'm just not used to it. That's all,"

Shit excuse. He can tell, too, if that smirk of his is any indication.

"Ah, I see. You think, hope, perhaps? that I'm going to make a move on you, as the kids say,"

Your eyes widen and you stumble over yourself, trying to come up with a rebuttal, an excuse, a lie, anything at all.

His smirk sharpens. Literally- his fangs dig into his lower lip, and he sticks his tongue out at you.

"If you're going to be this tense all night, you won't get any sleep. I'll tell you what-" he says, sitting up. "I will graciously allow you one kiss to sate your curiosity. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Now that's just unfair. "That's- what makes you think I would-!"

You stumble some more, and he drinks in the sight of you, flustered and nervous and oh-so close to him.

Lilia lets you argue with yourself until you're spent.

"...Fine,"

He claps. "Very well. Come here, Prefect,"

You sigh, but cross the bed, anyway, feeling the soft, handmade quilt underhand. You can't believe you're going to do this in Sebek's house, of all places...

Curse this fae.

You sit before him, far more vulnerable than you would have liked.

"Very good. But you could come a little closer, don't you think?"

Again, you listen. You sit on his lap, straddling his thighs, much to his delight.

"Better," he mumbles, perhaps more to himself than to you, because then his hand is holding the back of your head and his mouth is on yours.

Lilia doesn't give you much, and you know that's his intention. The kiss is much too chaste for him, and much too slow for you, but passion and pace were never a part of the deal.

You let it go.

And with some reluctance, you part from him, warm and jittery. That wasn't enough, and he knows it.

"You look like you have something you want to ask," Lilia says, his fingers brushing over your neck, feeling the beating of your heart in your pulse.

"...No," you lie.

He smirks again, baring his fangs as if warning you of his intent to bite.

"Khee hee. Don't worry, desire is nothing to be ashamed of. And we all have our little secrets... I, for example, may have asked Malleus to switch rooms with us."

Despite what Silver had said, you can't imagine sleeping now.

[forcaleb]

bound by shadows — caleb

warnings — yandere caleb, written before i read the main story and his myth, saw some quotes on other apps, slight angst, no fluff

notes — knock knock its user raffswife here my old account is broken for some reason lets hope its not the same here </3 tags: @aomiiine

caleb doesn’t understand why you’re so afraid of him.

he’s keeping you safe from people who want to hurt you, from those who would use you for the aether core inside your body. his house is the safest place in skyhaven — no one can reach you here, not without caleb’s permission, at least.

so why are you cowering on your bed, looking at him with those fearful eyes? why are you leaning away from his touch? he wants to take care of you, not hurt you.

“caleb… please let me go,” you beg for the tenth time today, refusing to take the food he’s given you. “i promise i’ll come back when my mission is done- just… please let me go outside.”

“can’t do that, princess,” caleb murmurs quietly. “you know how much i hate it when you go out by yourself. besides, didn’t i tell you how dangerous it is right now? people are coming after you, pipsqueak.”

pipsqueak. the nickname you used to love as a little girl now sends shivers down your spine. you hate it when caleb gets like this — possessive and obsessed with you. sure, having him around keeps the weird guys away, but that doesn’t mean you’re okay with him stopping you from going out and meeting your friends.

he gets ridiculously jealous. the first time he saw you hanging out with a male coworker — who, mind you, has a girlfriend (now fiancée) — he wouldn’t let it go for weeks.

it doesn’t make sense. what happened to the sweet boy you’ve known since you were five? the boy who used to cook your favorite meals when you returned from missions? the boy who promised he’d do anything to make you happy?

“caleb, i don’t want to be locked up in here forever!” you exclaim, pulling at his uniform, desperation laced in your tone. “i have a life outside of this. i-i want to be able to work, have fun, and live my normal life again. i don’t need you to-”

“you don’t need me? is that what you think?” caleb grabs your wrist, pulling it away from his uniform. “tell me. what do you need? we can go back to linkon if that’s what you want. if you want to return to our past, we’ll rebuild our old house and move in together.” his grip on your wrist tightens. “and if one house isn’t enough, i’ll build you a whole maze. i’ll decorate it with everything you could ever want,” he says, bringing a hand to your face and gently cupping your left cheek. “it will be the most beautiful, stunning garden you’ve ever seen.”

“caleb, you can’t just-”

“no one will ever find you again. i’ll protect you forever,” caleb cuts you off, his eyes showing no room for argument. you don’t even know what to say. caleb is terrifying when he (or the toring chip) acts like this. it doesn’t matter if he insists he’s the same old caleb from your childhood — he just doesn’t feel like your caleb anymore.

“caleb…” you whisper, tears spilling down your cheeks. you don’t know what else to say. it’s too overwhelming when he becomes like this. his touch, words, basically everything about him is suffocating.

“shh,” caleb says, gently wiping the tears from your eyes. “don’t cry, pipsqueak. you know i hate it when i see you cry.” he smiles softly as your tears begin to dry. “i promise you, once everyone who wants to hurt you or use you for your aether core disappears, you’ll finally be safe.”

[wtfaniii]

Little Cheater

Summary: You are twelve years old and you accompany your father to work, there was no one who could take care of you so he had no other option, there you meet a new friend.

Warning: Nothing, just something outside the series to focus on this wonderful man with purple hair, also, there will be some non-canon things.

Based on this request!

Choi Su-bong (Thanos) x little friend

Your eyes continued to watch with curiosity and interest the huge screen in front of you that showed a bunch of people dressed in the same uniform playing "green light, red light."

—¿Why can't I play with them? —You asked, pointing at the screen while your father put on a black hood and the mask with the square figure depicted in the center.

—They are not children's games —He responded without much encouragement while putting his gun in his pants pockets.

—That's just what it is ¡You see! —You said with irony, getting up from the bed you were sitting on —¿Can I go play?

Your father snorted under the mask, seeing you with the arms crossed. ¿Why did he bring you here to begin with? Your mother was probably hooking up with some other idiot and he hadn't been able to get a babysitter in a matter of hours, you shouldn't be here and yet you were standing in front of him demanding that he let you into those games.

—No, Stay here, I'll be back in a couple of hours.

It was him last thing he said before leaving the room but you were disobedient, you were definitely not going to stay there watching adults having fun playing while you were sitting on that bed.

So you sneaked out of the room and walked without stopping until you managed to find a door guarded by two pink guards with the triangle symbol emblazoned on their respective masks.

—¿Can I come in and play? —You asked with a wide smile showing your white teeth.

That gesture always worked to get the adults to do what you wanted but these guards remained silent without moving an inch.

You sighed and took a wad of bills from your dress pocket, money you had secretly taken from your father's wallet.

—¿Can I come in?

Once again the guards remained silent for a few seconds until one of them took the money and opened the door for you. "Walk until you reach a blue metal door, ask the guard to let you in" He told you seriously. You nodded and walked even further into the facilities until you reached said door where they finally allowed you to enter.

Inside there were many beds and the players were scattered talking or simply sitting without much encouragement, you didn't understand why but you didn't care and you walked among them, you walked until one of them caught your attention a guy with purple hair who seemed to be rapping sitting on a ladder with another player next to him.

You walked towards him and put on your best smile.

—Hi... —You greeted quietly but keeping your smile, you were curious and quite intelligent but when it came to socializing with others you were very shy and that was because your schoolmates picked on you.

—Hey... —Thanos looked up at you with a curious look —¿What are you doing here? ¿Did they bring you here too? ¿What kind of debts could a girl your age have?

—I have no debts —You said walking towards him softly while you also looked at him with curiosity —¡I like your hair!

Thanos nodded and continued making movements with his hands while he continued rapping under your attentive gaze. He believed that you would leave if he didn't pay attention to you, but when he saw you fascinated with his verses, he had greater motivation, considering you his small audience.

You laughed with some rhymes until another black-haired player with the number 124 approached you.

—¿What are you doing here girl? —He crouched down to be at your eye level with a mocking smile —¿Aren't you afraid of being here?

You stepped back, seeing him judging.

—¿How old are you? ¿eight? —Again he mocked, taking a step forward to intimidate you.

—¡I have twelve!

He laughed at your response and was going to make another mocking comment but before he could do so, Thanos snapped his fingers, drawing both of attention.

—It's not cool at all to bully a twelve year old girl —He said, motioning for you to sit next to him, to which you quickly went with him —Señorita, don't let this moron scare you, he's just as nervous as everyone here, ¿Right Nam Su?

—It's Nam Gyu —He corrected him making a nervous movement with his hands.

—It's the same —Thanos continued playing with his verses while you listened to him.

You also tried to rhyme a few times but when you couldn't, he laughed at your failed attempts.

—¿How do you do it? ¿Will you teach me? —You asked frustrated after several failed attempts.

—This is an art, little lady, and don't learn it, are born with it —He says, puffing out his chest with pride and moving his hands in front of your face in an exaggerated way, making you laugh again

—¡You're funny!

He smiled at you genuinely, everyone say that all children tell the truth and if you managed to empathize with him in just one hour that means that he is a great man and that fueled his pride.

—¿Do you want to play with me? —You asked with a shy smile as you played with the fingers of your hands.

—¿Play? —He asked curiously, the drugs had diminished considerably from his system so he was already calmer sitting next to you

—¡Yeah! My dad gave me this so I don't get bored, I play solitary but now you can play with me —You said excitedly, taking out a game of cards from the pocket of your dress.

Thanos nodded and settled in his place to be in front of you, his mind still did not fully understand how a girl your age was here, you were not wearing a uniform and you looked so calm that he doubted that you really knew what was happened in this place.

Still he kept his mouth shut and started playing with you after dealt the cards, you was adorable and very friendly, in a way you reminded him of himself as a child.

As time went by you were winning in each round, he was surprised.

—¿How do you know how to play this so well? You're barely twelve —He asked with a frown while scratching his head in frustration for not having won a single round.

—Dad taught me once —You were intelligent and you memorized things quickly, that's why you also knew many things about this place even if your innocence proved otherwise.

He continued playing against you, he was not going to give up until he won a game and that led him to complain and accuse you of being a cheater after each round lost due to a large difference in points, causing you to only laugh.

Lunch time was announced and Thanos went to pick up his food along with his team, leaving you on the stairs while you put away your cards with the intention of continuing to play later, however a guard approached you.

—Your father wants you to leave immediately and return to the room —Said the stranger sternly.

—But I don't want to go yet.

—I don't think you have a choice.

You pouted and looked towards Thanos and the guard randomly forming a plan in your little head.

After a couple of seconds you smiled innocently and ran to where your purple-haired friend was, you knew there would be consequences when you returned to your father but for now you wanted to continue in this place, it was the first time you made a friend and you didn't were ready to leave him so soon.

The guard was going to follow you, he had clear instructions and if he let you go the punishment would probably be for him but as soon as he took a few steps the boss's voice sounded in his earpiece.

"Leave her" Your father said in an authoritative voice and giving the order to the guard to leave, he was not happy to leave you there and even less so with that specific player but he did not want to make you unhappy either, he saw you laughing and talking to someone unknown, someone other than him and your mother and that was somehow encouraging, if player 230 could help you socialize more maybe he could overlook this lack.

Although he himself would also put his authority at risk with the frontman

—Hey, ¿What happens? —Thanos asked when you suddenly arrived and hugged him around the waist while pressing your right cheek to his stomach.

—Nothing, I just like you —You said with a triumphant smile as you watched the guard leave.

He brushed it off and kept you by his side during the line despite Nam Gyu's protests, Se mi and Min Su also liked you but you were more attached to Thanos.

As night fell... He was barely settling into his respective bed when he saw you sitting on the side and leaning against the wall.

—¿Aren't you going to sleep?

—I'm afraid to sleep up there alone —You admitted looking towards the bunk beds where there was an empty bed on top that had been left for you.

He wasn't going to allow you to spend the night on the floor, you weren't going to sleep well and seeing you nod off from exhaustion he deduced that you were also more asleep than awake.

He got out of bed and went to you to carefully pick you up and place you in him bed where you quickly fell asleep, Thanos covered you with the blanket and placed the pillow under your head.

A small laugh caught him attention and he looked up to find Se mi with a hand on his mouth to muffle his laughter, watching him with a tender look.

—Looks like you made a friend —She said smiling, caressing your hair.

He smiled softly, she was right, you were his friend but he wasn't going to say it out loud so he answered the following.

—She is the leader of my fan's club, I have to be good to her —He made sure you were comfortable and sat on the floor next to you, it would be a long night for him without a bed but he put your comfort first.

Anyway... you would tell him what the next games were going to be at dawn, you were going to cheat but it was inevitable, you grew fond of that fun guy.

And without realizing it, that affection he got from you could be a possibility to get out of that place alive.

[organic-bloodbath]

hello! could I request literally anything w chishiya x pregnant!reader? maybe how he (and the rest of the group) would take care of reader during and in between games? thank you sm!

Child of Hearts

Chishiya x Pregnant!Reader

Summary: Chishiya takes care of you after you two have been separated from the rest of your friends.

A/N: Please request me more Chishiya i need this man so bad. I hope this is alright 🫶🏻 (mind you, i have never been pregnant myself so i might not know what the hell i'm talking about)

♤♡♧◇

Running away from a man shooting every person in sight with a huge rifle was a big challenge when you were 7 months pregnant. You didn't know what the gun was called, but when the bullet hit its target, it would basically cut your body in half. Hiding behind a car would be useless, as the car would be in pieces as well.

Running fast enough was already difficult, almost impossible, but your heavy stomach, bearing another human being, was making it a lot harder. It didn't take long to be out of breath and your legs were going to betray you any moment. Chishiya's hand was pulling you forward and you could barely keep up. He would soon have to drag your body against the ground, and then you'd both be dead.

This was it. You had played several games, somehow been able to beat them all with the help of your friends, which was a miracle itself. Especially without Arisu, Usagi, Kuina and Chishiya you would have died ages ago.

Before your pregnancy, you had been quite a fast runner and could run fast for a long period of time. Now? The total opposite.

Finally, you could sit down on the ground, leaning against a car. You had to only hope that the shooter had passed you and wasn't going to blow it up.

"You doing okay?" Chishiya looked at you with concern when you closed your eyes and threw your head back, breathing loudly.

"Yeah, yeah, i'm fine," you nodded, barely being able to talk. "Just can't run anymore."

Seeing a massive airship floating in the sky almost right above you, a large playing card hanging from it, you finally came into a conclusion what was going on.

"Well, he must be the King of Spades," Chishiya said next to you, leaning against the car.

Absolutely amazing - now the entire Tokyo was a game arena?

The shooting had stopped for a moment, but the shooter – or more specifically the King, should you call him – could come out from any corner at any second, surprising you completely.

Ann arrived with a car, telling all of you to hop in. However, Chishiya was left behind, because of a grenade that had been thrown between him and the car.

As were you with him.

♤♡♧◇

The others were gone now, driven away with the car. You and Chishiya were left alone to find a way to survive on your own. You were relieved to have Chishiya with you, he was extremely smart and knew how to survive different situations.

Previously many of your teammates had helped you, but now it was just the two of you. For a second you were slightly afraid that taking care of you alone would become too much to Chishiya if the King of Spades found you out of all people and started chasing you. You could tell that running with you was challenging to him.

You were starving, not remembering when was the last time you got proper food, and eventually found a small grocery store which windows had been shattered.

Chishiya started browsing for food while you waited, leaning against the counter. Soon, he came back with the most suitable and edible food he could find in this situation.

"Cash or credit?"

"Aren't you a little too pregnant to be working?"

"Don't underestimate me, Doctor Shuntaro," you teased him.

You pretended to scan each item like you had worked here for years.

"Thank you for shopping with us, please come again," you said with your best customer service voice.

"You definitely deserve the best worker of the month award," he praised you, almost impressed, and clapped his hands a few times.

"Finally someone gives my work credit," you said, hand on your chest.

There was a small table and two chairs by the window. You and Chishiya dragged them away from the window, so you could sit down in the back of the room and not be seen to anyone possibly walking past the store.

"Here you go," Chishiya said and offered you food and a plastic fork, along with a bottle of water, as you sat down. "It's not much but it's the best i got now without any electricity to heat it up."

"Thank you," you said quietly.

You ate in comfortable silence. You hadn't realized how dizzy you had started to feel after all the running and having not eaten or drank water in hours.

"Are you sure you're feeling alright?" Chishiya asked when he was finished with his meal and put his hand gently on yours, looking concerned.

"Yeah, i'm fine," you mumbled and stretched a little. "My back just hurts."

"Let's take a break and lay down for a while, okay?"

"But shouldn't we stay on the move? The King of Spades might come back and-"

"We'll be safe enough here for a while. Take a short nap, i'll keep an eye on the surroundings," he insisted. "You need more rest than me."

You were sleepy, so you weren't going to resist too much. You hadn't slept properly in a while.

Chishiya watched you sleep on your left side, your head on his lap to use as a pillow. You clinged on his leg with both of your arms, and he gently brushed your hair with his fingers to soothe you to sleep.

You were so beautiful, and he knew that he didn't say it to you often enough - as often as you would have deserved.

Chishiya was terrified every second of being in this world, having to play the games with you on his side. He wasn't afraid of many things, but you? If he lost you, he'd also lose your baby. His unborn child. And that was easily his biggest fear.

You had been in a relationship together for the past three years, and the pregnancy hadn't been planned, at all. Chishiya wasn't sure if he would ever want children, and when you told him that you were pregnant, he didn't know what to think. But it didn't take him too long to get used to the idea of becoming a father. And having you as the mother was everything he could have wished for.

You, however, hadn't considered becoming a mother at this age and had cried in the bathroom for an hour after seeing the two lines on the pregnancy test. Now, as the months had passed, you had gotten used to the idea of having a child and were more ready with Chishiya's constant support, who you loved and trusted with all your heart.

You just had to finish the rest of the games and hopefully, you could then return home - before you'd start delivering the baby.

♤♡♧◇

You entered a new game with Chishiya inside an old prison.

Jack of Hearts - Solitary confinement.

This was absolutely the ideal game for you, since all you could do was just chill and sit around until it was time to go into your little prison cell to announce the correct symbol on the back of your collar. And for that, you had Chishiya revealing it for you. As long as Chishiya was there for you, you had nothing to worry about.

People formed groups, telling each other everyone's symbols, so other people could confirm they were telling the truth.

"Hi," a girl in a blue dress greeted with an eager smile, approaching you. "Want to join our group?"

You glanced at Chishiya, unsure, but nodded your head.

"Sure, why not," you shrugged. Mom always told you to try and be more social.

Slowly, as the rounds went by, people started to lie and betray each other, which ended up more and more people being eliminated. This was a Heart's game, after all, it was supposed to mess with both your head and heart.

"Listen, let me worry about the game, you just remember your symbol and rest, okay?" Chishiya had said earlier, giving your hand a squeeze.

Chishiya had been eyeing the other people and trying to study any hints that could lead him to reveal someone as the Jack of Hearts. He hadn't told you much about his thoughts, probably still trying to decide his opinions on the players.

Right now, you sat at the table, looking towards the group which was sharing their symbols with each other. It was like watching a high school drama all over again, except now people were getting killed.

"Here," Chishiya said, sitting next you, and laid food on the table in front of you. "You need to eat."

He had grabbed two different kinds of crackers, a bottle of water, some orange juice, and a can of soup.

"I just did, i'm fine," you tried to refuse, even though you knew you could have eaten a little bit more. Chishiya just stared at you with no expression on his face.

"Yes, but you need to eat more, since you're eating for two," he insisted and wasn't having a 'no' for an answer.

You rolled your eyes, and he noticed it, giving you a look.

"Fine, fine, Doctor Shuntaro," you smirked.

After you had finished eating, you went to the bathroom again - you were sure you'd have to pee every hour. Washing your hands and your face, you heard someone arriving to the bathroom.

"Hello," a young girl greeted you nervously, taking careful steps towards you. "Sorry to bother you, but could you tell me the symbol on my collar? I don't really trust my group anymore and, well, you seem nice."

"Um, sure," you mumbled and looked at the girl's symbol. "It's a diamond."

"You sure?"

"I have fully functional eyes."

"Thank you so much," the girl said, giving you an excited smile.

You didn't bother to include yourself in that drama club and lie for no proper reason, you had decided to keep your distance to them since you didn't need help with your symbol. You doubted any of them would be the Jack, but who knew - the Jack could be a girl too, after all. If they started manipulating and lying to each other, that was on them.

A few more rounds passed, and you were starting to become really sleepy. By now you had been at the prison for 8 hours and you had no idea how much longer all this would take. Chishiya had been feeding you crackers and other snacks almost every hour, now that you had food available a lot easier.

You wondered if your friends were alright, though you knew all of them were strong and if they had survived this far, they must be able to handle anything. Still, of course you couldn't help but to worry.

You walked around the place and tried to search for a corner to take a quick nap, there was 36 minutes left until you had to go back to your cell.

Then, you had to stop walking when you felt sudden pain and pressure on your stomach. You let out a loud gasp, startling any few people nearby and make them look at you. You leaned against the nearest wall, so you wouldn't fall on the floor.

No, no, no, no. You weren't going to start delivering your baby a month or two early. Especially in the middle of the game where there was a time limit and a chance to be killed. Of course they wouldn't stop the game for a moment if there was a woman on labour.

Chishiya had heard you and instantly ran towards you. His eyes widened when you were holding your stomach in pain.

"Y/N? What's happening?" Chishiya asked, trying to hide his panic so you wouldn't start to freak out even more.

"I-I don't know," you mumbled and truly started to panic. "It just hurts. I don't know. Oh my god, Chishiya, I-"

"Okay, calm down. You're having contractions, it doesn't necessarily mean the baby's coming, okay?" he tried to reassure you, his hand on your cheek. "Look at me. Just breathe, take a deep breath."

You did as he told, taking deep breaths and squeezing Chishiya's hand every time the waves of pain took hold of your stomach. If this hurt, you didn't want to know how much it hurt to push the baby out of you - your pain tolerance was extremely poor.

"I can't do this, any of this, i'm-"

"Yes, you can, darling," Chishiya said softly.

After some time, it stopped. You sat on the floor, back against the wall, for the next twenty minutes, Chishiya holding your hand the entire time and gently rubbing your back.

"See? Everything's fine," he said calmly and put his arm around you, keeping you close against him.

"You know," you started, eyes starting to water. "I haven't felt any movements from the baby in a few days. What if something's wrong?"

"Listen," Chishiya said. "Contractions are normal, even when the baby won't come yet. The baby might not move every day, it's normal. You'll just have to stay calm and try to avoid too much stress. And i know that's a lot to ask for in our current situation."

You nodded, unsure, but trying to believe his words as well as possible. He was a doctor after all, right?

"Next round, we'll get you a place to sleep for a moment," Chishiya promised. There was 9 minutes left to announce your symbols.

"You know, when the baby will be born, we'll have a lot more different story on how the pregnancy went than other expecting mothers," you chuckled. "Like, not many moms can say that they've run away from a shooter while being on their third trimester of their pregnancy."

Chishiya smiled. "Or spent a day in a prison with no actual guards around."

An older man walked past you, still sitting on the floor, leaning against Chishiya.

"My God. Are you okay? How on earth have you survived this far being pregnant like that?" he asked in shock, surely seen the scene just a moment ago.

"Well, i've had a lot of help," you shrugged.

You had been used to people commenting on your pregnancy. Every time you met someone knew, they just stared at your stomach for too long, feeling bad for you and considering you the weakest player of the group. You stood out from the rest of the people around, it was understandable. At first it had bothered you, but now you were so tired of it you just felt numb.

Arriving to the Beach for the first time, the entire pool party had quieted down for a moment when people saw you.

"Here, it is required to only wear a swimsuit," they had announced, but looking at you, they let you wear more clothes. Thank god for that. You weren't exactly very fond of showing off your stretch marks and everything. You had been given shorts and an oversized t-shirt - it was the same shirt you still had on.

In the end of the current game, only four people came out from the cells alive, after the Jack had guessed the wrong symbol, and left the prison, two of them you and Chishiya. It had been the first game where you could have actually relaxed and sat back for a while.

If there had been a proper bed, you wouldn't have minded to stay a bit longer too.

"So, what now?" you asked.

"We'll try to find a place to spend the night."

It was becoming the night and you had been walking almost half an hour on the streets, trying to find a good place to hide and sleep.

You found a small hostel, completely abandoned and empty, and found your way into one of the rooms. The door was locked, but Chishiya could easily pick the lock open. You were able to sleep on a real bed again, you could have started crying from even the thought of it. The sheets weren't fresh at all and the blanket was really thin, but you couldn't complain.

You laid yourself on the bed, it felt so good to feel an actual mattress and a pillow under you, you felt like your body could melt there like a cotton candy in water. Chishiya came to lay down next to you after removing his shirt, warming you better with his bare skin. He cupped your cheek and pulled you in a sweet kiss.

Suddenly, you winced when you felt a kick inside your stomach. Chishiya immediately sat up, concerned.

"What's wrong? Did the contractions start again?"

You grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach, trying the correct spot to find any movements, and when he felt a kick right against his hand, he flinched and a smile spread on his lips.

You started laughing, with a few tears of relief and happiness, and he laughed a little too.

"We'll be alright," Chishiya whispered. He hugged you and kissed your forehead.

"I hope so," you said quietly.

"I love you," he whispered and looked you deep into your eyes. "You know that, right?"

"Are you saying that in case the King of Spades comes to shoot us in our sleep?" you teased. "Honestly, that would definitely be cheating."

"I doubt he's going to find us here," he assured you and pressed a kiss on your hair. "Good night."

"Good night," you answered and turned on your side. Chishiya's arm wrapped around your stomach, pulling you against his chest.

[harrywavycurly]

Absolutely loving killer Harry! I love how protective of us he is and how just caring and in love he is with us. Though has there ever been a time where he was the one where he desperately needed someone or us for comfort? Has he ever been that vulnerable with us?

Hiii lovey!! So I think 100000% Harry has had moments of insecurity and thinks he’s not enough for you and that’s sort of why he needs you to comfort him a bit! So I hope you enjoy this!!💖

Find all things Loving a Killer here✨

CW: Harry is a killer in this series but it’s only mentioned briefly and no details are given in this update about what he’s done.

Tag List: @umadirectioner @styleswithaseaview @sunflower-tia

Summary: Harry has a bad day and just needs you to comfort him a bit✨

It’s rare that Harry lets anyone see him at his lowest when the weight of all the horrible things he’s done rests on his shoulders and he feels as if he doesn’t deserve the happiness he’s found in life, the happiness he has all because of you. You’re the one person who has seen Harry in this state, he doesn’t bother putting up a wall with you because you know him too well and while he does keep things from you, such as what he really does for a living, he is actually very forthcoming with his feelings with you because most of the time it’s just him telling you how much he loves you and how you’re the best thing that ever happened to him. But something he’s learned in his years of being with you and especially in the years he’s been married to you is that it’s just as important for him to share how he’s feeling in the not so great moments as well as the happy ones, it’s what helps you understand him a bit more and get to see his more vulnerable side that he doesn’t share with anyone else.

That’s why having Harry’s head resting in your lap while you’re sat at the edge of the bed with him on his knees between your legs isn’t that shocking, you could tell he was feeling a little down the moment he got home from work a few hours earlier. You run a hand through his hair as he lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, the feeling of your nails lightly scratching his scalp making him relax the tiniest bit. He hasn’t said anything to you minus that he loves you but that was as he was getting ready for bed, he’s been silence since then even when he dropped to his knees in front of you while you were putting your lotion on and rested his head in your lap and securely wrapped himself around you and you don’t mind because you know he will talk when he’s ready.

“Can I ask you something?” You look down at him as he mumbles his question into the fabric of your pajama pants.

“You can ask me anything you want.” You tell him as your free hand rests on the top of his shoulder so you can give it a small squeeze.

“Do you think you’ll always love me?” He knows he shouldn’t be asking you this while you have no clue about the horrible things he does and has done in the time you’ve known him but he just needs some reassurance in this very moment so he doesn’t really care how unfair he’s being.

“I know I’ll always love you.” You answer with a smile as you continue running your fingers through his hair. “There’s nothing you could do that would ever make me stop loving you.” Your soft and gentle tone lets him know you mean every word and Harry wants to smile but he can’t because of the guilt he feels knowing that he’s already done plenty of things that would make all the love you have for him fade away and turn into disgust and anger.

“I don’t deserve you.” He says with a sigh as his arms around your middle tighten almost as if he’s afraid that if his hold on you loosens even just the tiniest bit you’ll slip away from him. You feel the corners of your mouth drop at his words, hating that whatever thoughts he’s got swirling around in his mind are making him feel like he’s not good enough. You bring your hand up and place it on his cheek that’s not pressed against your thighs, you softly run your thumb over his cheekbone as your other hand plays with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Well I know you don’t hear this a lot but you’re wrong.” You watch as your words make Harry’s mouth twitch like he’s fighting off a smile. “You deserve me because I deserve you.” You swallow the small lump that’s forming in your throat as you look over at your nightstand that has a photo of you and Harry from your wedding day sitting in a pretty frame next to your lamp.

“No one can love me the way you do. No one can make me feel like I’m the most important person in the whole world the way you do. No one can protect me the way you do. So you saying you don’t deserve me is like you’re trying to tell me I don’t deserve the kind of happiness that I only get when I’m with you.” Harry’s eyes open as soon as he hears you sniffle and you don’t even have time to wipe away the few tears that have escaped before he’s sitting up making your hands fall into your lap while his come up to gently cup the sides of your face, his thumbs softly wiping away the tears for you.

“You deserve all the happiness in the world.” He tells you with as much softness he can muster as he feels his heart begin to crack at the sight of you getting upset because you just want him to know how loved he makes you feel. While he’s glad he makes you feel this way he also hates that a part of him knows the reason he goes so overboard with his love and affection for you is because he thinks maybe if he treats you the best he possibly can you won’t want to leave the moment you find out the monster he really is.

“And I get that when I’m with you.” Harry hates knowing your happiness is tied up in being with him because he knows there’s a small possibility that somewhere down the line he won’t be able to be around anymore, either because a job goes wrong or someone stumbles upon his preferred burial site that holds more than a few skeletons of his. “Is there something wrong that we need to work on? Are you not-”

“No baby there’s nothing wrong.” He says quickly stopping you from asking any other questions because he can’t stand the thought of you thinking you have anything to do with his mood this evening. “I just sometimes think this-this life we’ve made with each other is almost too good to be true and-and I get in my head about how one day you’re going to realize how fucked up I am and you’ll run for the hills.” His thumbs are still softly rubbing over your cheeks as he finally lets you in on the types of things that have been rolling around in his mind lately.

“I already know how fucked up you are Harry.” His eyes stare into yours as you bring your hands up and rest them on top of his. “You wake up before the sun rises to work out. You also prefer cold showers unless I’m joining you and force you to take a hot one. You are so organized I don’t even know where half our stuff even is. And you eat beans on toast. You’re an actual freak.” You explain with a small sniffle while you wrap your hands around his wrists, Harry appreciates your attempt at trying to change the mood of the conversation because he doesn’t know how much longer he can watch tears slip down your face.

“But you love me right?” He asks as he leans in to place a kiss to your forehead.

“I’ll never love anyone the way I love you so don’t think even for a minute that I’ll ever leave you okay?” Harry just nods as you give his wrists a squeeze and that’s when you notice his eyes have gotten a little misty. “I promise I’m not going anywhere.” You reassure him as you move your hands from his wrist and up to his face while his hands drop to your shoulders.

“Good.” You smile as you feel him lean into your touch. “You mean everything to me you know that right?” You give him a small nod as you hear the emotion in his voice. “I love you.” He says softly as you lean in and rest your forehead against his as a few stray tears roll down his face. “I’m sor-” Harry’s apology is cut off by the feeling of your lips on his in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” You mumble against his lips as his hands slip into your hair keeping your face close to his. “You don’t have to apologize to me. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Harry closes his eyes for a moment as you take your thumbs and wipe away the last of his tears while he take a few seconds to let your words sink in, ignoring the ever present guilt that wants to work its way up his chest and into his throat so he can come clean and just tell you everything he’s done wrong that would make you change your mind and demand an apology and probably a divorce from him.

But Harry decides that while yes he does unspeakable things and hurts people for a living, there’s a reason he walked into the cafe you worked at all those years ago and maybe it was because the universe or whatever it may be knew you were exactly what he needed in his life. He felt lost before he met you, just going through the motions of life with no real purpose until you came along and gave him one. That’s why he will always drop whatever he’s doing if you need him because your happiness is his main priority and it’s the same reason he’d leave and make sure you never saw him again if you ever do decide to be done with him.

He hasn’t ever loved anyone as much as he loves you and as he leans in and places a kiss to your lips he knows you love him just as much when he feels you pull him closer when you think he’s about to pull away, not wanting him to get too far but you have nothing to worry about because Harry isn’t going anywhere. The two of you are it for each other and he feels a sense of relief wash over him as that realization hits him, momentarily putting him at ease.

“You really think I’m a freak because of the beans on toast thing?” He teases once you actually allow him to pull away and you roll your eyes as he places little kisses to the tip of your nose and then both cheeks.

“Yes.” He smiles as you run a hand through his hair. “But you’re my freak.”

“Oh really? And here I was thinking you were my little freak.” He chuckles at the way your cheeks get pink as he leans down and gives you a quick peck making you smile when he pulls away. It’s a smile that makes Harry’s heart want to burst because it’s the smile you give him when he can tell you’re truly happy and that’s all Harry wants, he just wants to be able to make you smile like that for as long as he can.

[leeeedith]

STRAY KIDS reaction to their S/O falling asleep on them

Bang Chan 🐺

Chan would freeze for a second, a small smile creeping onto his face as he glances down at you curled up against his chest. He'd gently adjust his position so you're more comfortable, probably pulling his hoodie over you like a makeshift blanket. If he's working, he'll keep trying with one hand while the other rests on your back, rubbing small circles absentmindedly. "Guess I'm stuck here..., but I don't mind at all."

Lee Know 🐰

Minho would act all nonchalant, but inside, he's melting. He'd probably take a quick peek at you, making sure you're comfortable before subtly adjusting so you don't wake up. If one of the members tries to tease him, he'd glare at them and whisper, "Shh. You'll wake them." However, later on, expect him to bring it up with a smug smirk,—"Falling asleep on me? Can't resist me, huh?"

Changbin 🐷

Changbin would get super soft the moment he notices you dozing off on his shoulder. He'd hold back a fond chuckle, watching the way your face scrunches up slightly before you fully relax. He'd wrap an arm around you protectively, making sure you don't slide it off. If you wake up and apologize, he'll shake his head aith a shy smile, "Don't worry, you can fall asleep on me anytime."

Hyunjin 😺

Hyunjin would be in awe, staring at you like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. He'd probably push a strang of hair out of your face and take a mental picture to sketch later. If he's feeling extra, he might even whisper something poetic like, "You look like a dream even when you're asleep." He'd be careful not to move, even if his arm falls asleep—your comfort comes first.

Han 🐿️

Jisung would be flustered but absolutely loving it. He'd hold back giggles as he feels you nuzzle into him. If he's playing a game or watching something, he'll try to stay still but will probably end up whispering to himself, "Oh no... this is way too cute." If you wake up and apologize, he'd joke, "So comfy you couldn't resist, huh?" but secretly, he'd hope you do it again.

Felix 🐥

Felix would melt instantly. The moment you lay your head on his chest, he'd instictively wrap his arms around you, holding you close like a warm teddy bear. He'd probably kiss the top of your head softly and whisper, "Sleep well, my love." If he's playing a game or watching something, he'd turn the volume down so you wouldn't wake up. He'd be in full soft mode the whole time.

Seungmin 🐶

Seungmin would pretend not to care, but the small, fond smile on his face would gave him away. He'd stay completely still, afraid to wake you up, but if the other members start teasing him, he'd roll his eyes and shush them. Later, he'd tease you about it—"Falling asleep on me? Am I that comfortable?"—but he'd be hoping you do it again.

I.N 🦊

Jeongin would be both flustered and proud. He'd glance down at you with wide eyes at first, unsure of what to do, before finally just smiling to himself and letting you sleep. He'd sit extra still, making sure you're as comfy as possible. If the members teasre him, he'll get defensive, "Shut up, they're sleeping." But later, he'd probably bring it up with a soft smile, "You looked so peaceful... maybe I should let you use me as a pillow more often."

[03jyh23]

💬⌇like i need you part two┆ jeong yunho

│part of goes to waste the series based on my favourite keshi songs

│listen here

│part one

non-idol!yunho x non-idol!reader

│synopsis: yunho's love for you burns fiercely. as lovers turned exes, he's left shattered when you leave, moving out of the apartment you once shared. his nights become a blur of desperation, calling you relentlessly, begging for another chance.

│genre: lovers to exes, angst, smut

│(!)trigger warnings: mental health issues, self-harm (mentioned), blood, toxic relationships, depression, emotional trauma, strong language, emotional abuse, nicotine addiction, explicit sexual content, angry sex

please be sure to proceed with caution. this story contains themes that may be distressing to some readers.

│words: 11.6 k

│reminder: what you’re about to read is purely fiction, so let’s keep it separate from reality.

!minors do not interact!

love, mon♡

│taglist: @skittyneos │ @kyeos4ng │ @vcutparis │

│ @ateezswonderland │ @jycas│ @velvetskize │ @e3ellie │

│ @sertralinehoe │ @hoeforalbedo │

Mingi took the stairs two at a time, his heart thundering in his chest as he raced to the fourth floor. Every second felt like an eternity as adrenaline coursed through his veins. Without pausing to catch his breath, he burst through the doors of Yunho's apartment, the sound of devastating sobs immediately assaulting his ears like shards of ice. He rushed toward the bathroom, each heartbeat growing more intense with mounting dread.

The scene that confronted him knocked the air from his lungs. Yunho was huddled in the bathroom corner, surrounded by a constellation of broken mirror fragments. His knuckles were a mess of crimson, delicate skin shredded by countless tiny shards of glass that glinted menacingly in the harsh bathroom light. Blood had splattered across the tiles, but Yunho seemed completely unaware of his injuries as he rocked back and forth, broken words tumbling from his lips between gut-wrenching sobs.

"Fuck, Yunho," Mingi whispered as he carefully navigated the minefield of glass shards. He lowered himself slowly, deliberately, "Hey, I'm here. I'm right here with you."

When Yunho finally lifted his gaze, Mingi's heart shattered at the sight. His friend's eyes were bloodshot and hollow, tears cutting paths through the anguish written across his features. "She's gone, Mingi," he choked out, his voice raw and broken. "She's really gone this time."

"I know," Mingi murmured, reaching out to squeeze Yunho's shoulder with gentle reassurance. "Let's get you cleaned up first, okay? Those hands need attention."

A bitter, hollow laugh escaped Yunho's throat, the sound more painful than any cry. "What's the point? Everything hurts anyway. Everything just... fucking hurts."

The raw agony in his friend's voice made Mingi's chest constrict painfully. In all their years of friendship, he'd never witnessed Yunho so thoroughly broken, so completely untethered from himself. Without hesitation or words, he carefully settled onto the cold bathroom floor beside him, careful to avoid the broken glass shards, and pulled his best friend into a protective embrace. Yunho crumpled against him instantly, his broad frame wracked with fresh, devastating sobs.

"She's never coming home," Yunho sobbed, hiding his face in the crook of Mingi's neck, his voice muffled but the pain in it crystal clear. His fingers clutched desperately at Mingi's shirt, staining it with blood, as if afraid his friend would disappear too if he let go.

"I've got you," Mingi whispered fiercely, tightening his hold as if he could physically keep his friend from falling apart. "I've got you, brother. Just let it all out."

"I was too harsh on her," Yunho whispered, his body trembling uncontrollably with renewed force. His bloodied fingers tightened their grip on Mingi's shirt. "I said such terrible things... I didn't mean to... God, I didn't mean to hurt her like that."

Mingi remained silent, knowing his friend needed to let everything out. The bathroom light flickered above them, casting shifting shadows across the devastation surrounding them.

"But it hurts so fucking much," Yunho continued, his voice cracking. "When I saw her, it's like... like I'm losing her all over again. And I can't... I can't keep feeling like this, Mingi. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with her being around but not really being mine anymore. I'm not okay. I'm so far from okay."

Mingi held his friend tighter as another wave of sobs wracked through Yunho's body. The blood from his injured hands was seeping through both their clothes now, but neither of them moved.

"Yun, we need to get you to the hospital," Mingi said softly. "They need to clean those-..."

"No," Yunho mumbled, shaking his head weakly against Mingi's shoulder. "Just... just let me stay here for a bit longer. Please."

"You're bleeding all over the place," Mingi insisted gently, though he didn't loosen his hold. "Those cuts could get infected. And some of them look deep enough to need stitches."

Yunho let out a shaky breath that might have been attempting to be a laugh. "Seems fitting, doesn't it? Everything else about me is fucked up and broken. Might as well match on the outside too."

"Don't," Mingi's voice was sharp but filled with concern. "Don't talk like that. Come on, let me help you up. We're going to the emergency room, and I'm not taking no for an answer this time."

After what felt like an eternity, Yunho finally gave a small, defeated nod. His movements were sluggish as Mingi carefully helped him to his feet, steadying him when he swayed dangerously. The bathroom light caught the tears still streaming down his face, making them glitter like the broken mirror fragments scattered at their feet.

"I'm sorry," Yunho whispered as Mingi guided him through the apartment. "For making you deal with all this. With me."

"Hey," Mingi's voice was fierce with protective love. "You never have to apologize for needing me. That's what brothers are for."

The insistent ringing of your doorbell jolted you awake. You were still on the sofa, coat, and shoes on, with no clear memory of how you'd made it home. As consciousness crashed over you, the memories came rushing back with a force that triggered a painful sensation in your temple. Your phone was dead, clutched tightly in your hand. The morning light filtering through your curtains felt too harsh, too accusatory, making your head pound even harder. Every blink brought back flashes of last night - Yunho's tears, his broken voice, the sound of something shattering against the wall. The taste in your mouth was bitter, a mix of bile and regret. You couldn't tell if the nausea rising in your throat was from the emotional aftermath or sympathy pains from watching Yunho be sick. Maybe it was both. Your eyes felt swollen and raw, your cheeks still tight from dried tears.

The doorbell rang again as you managed to get up from the sofa. With trembling hands, you finally plugged in your phone, dreading what messages might await. As the screen flickered to life, notifications began flooding in - missed calls from Mingi, concerned texts from your friend, but nothing from him. The silence from Yunho's end felt more deafening than any scream. His broken voice echoed in your head: "You lost that right."

The guilt hit you like a physical blow, knocking the air from your lungs. You'd been so focused on protecting yourself, on justifying your decisions, that you'd refused to truly see the devastation you'd left in your wake. The man who once lit up every room he entered, whose laugh could make your whole day better, was now drowning in darkness - and you were the one who'd extinguished his light. Memories began surfacing unbidden - his gentle touches, the way he'd kiss your forehead when you were stressed, how he'd dance ridiculously in the kitchen just to make you smile. Each happy memory now felt like a knife twisting in your chest, because you'd taken all that joy and turned it into poison.

You found yourself clutching your chest, trying to hold yourself together as the weight of what you'd done finally crashed over you. The love hadn't faded - it had been there all along, buried under layers of excuses and self-protection. But now it burned through you like acid, mixed with guilt so profound it felt like it might tear you apart.

The worst part was knowing that even if you wanted to fix it, to make it right, you'd lost that privilege. Your actions had burned that bridge to ashes, and now all you could do was watch from a distance as the person you loved most in the world fell apart, knowing you were the reason for both his pain and your own.

The doorbell rang again, more insistently this time, pulling you from your spiral of self-loathing. You knew it had to be Mingi - probably here to check on you after last night's chaos. Part of you wanted to pretend you weren't home, to sink deeper into your cocoon of misery, but you knew he wouldn't leave until he saw for himself that you were okay.

With a heavy sigh, you dragged yourself to the door, only to freeze when you opened it to find San standing there instead of Mingi. His expression was a mix of irritation and reluctance.

"Look, I don't want to be here, but Mingi was up my ass telling me to come—" San's words died in his throat as he took in your appearance, his annoyed expression shifting to something more complex. His eyes widened slightly, scanning over your tear-stained face, rumpled clothes, and the general air of devastation that must have been radiating off you.

The harsh edge in his stance softened almost imperceptibly. He cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, running a hand through his hair. "You look as bad as he does."

You couldn't meet San's gaze, feeling utterly numb yet somehow experiencing everything all at once. The weight of last night's events pressed down on your chest, making it difficult to breathe. Your fingers absently traced the doorframe, seeking something solid to ground yourself as the world seemed to spin beneath your feet.

San sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging as he made his way into the apartment without waiting for an invitation. You remained frozen in place, your mind struggling to process the simple act of his presence, staring blankly at the space where he had been standing for several long seconds before your foggy consciousness registered that he was already inside. Time felt distorted, moving both too quickly and too slowly, as you finally managed to close the door with trembling fingers, the soft click of the latch echoing in the heavy silence.

San finally spoke, his voice slightly softer than before, "Mingi's worried about both of you, and honestly..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "I've never seen Yunho like this before. Not even when..."

He trailed off, leaving the unspoken words hanging heavily in the air. You could see the conflict in his expression - the loyalty to his friend warring with the understanding that pain rarely chooses sides.

"Look," he continued, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "I know it's not my place, and maybe I'm the last person who should be here right now. But Mingi's at the hospital with Yunho, and he wanted to make sure you were... functioning, I guess."

The word 'hospital' hit you like a physical blow, making your knees weak. "Hospital?" your voice came out barely above a whisper.

San's expression tightened, realizing he might have said too much. He ran a hand through his hair again, a gesture of clear discomfort. "It's not... He's going to be fine. Physically, at least."

To change the subject, San looked around the apartment, taking in the unfamiliar surroundings. "What's even this place?"

"It's my friend's apartment," you explained, your voice still raw. "She's out of town for a work project, so I'm crashing here until she's back."

San sighed heavily as he made his way to sit down on a kitchen table chair, you followed in his footsteps. His eyes lingered on your disheveled state as you sat down across him, a mix of concern and resignation crossing his features. "You should change, considering you're still in your coat from yesterday. Maybe take a shower? I'll just be here until you finish."

You remained frozen in place, the thought of changing, of doing anything normal, felt surreal in the face of everything that had happened.

"Listen," San leaned back in his chair, his expression a mix of exhaustion and frustration. "Mingi asked me to check on you. Trust me, I'm not exactly thrilled about playing messenger between you two so let’s just get it done with quick."

"I didn't ask for anyone to check on me," you muttered.

"No, you didn't," San agreed, his voice carrying a sharp edge. "But Mingi's stuck in the middle of this mess, watching his two best friends tear themselves and each other apart. So here I am, making sure you haven't completely fallen apart too."

His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, fingers drumming against the table. "I have no idea what's gotten into you to walk out of your shared life with Yunho, and quite honestly, I don't even want to take the time to understand you," San's words cut through the air. "Do you have any idea what you've done? The life you two built together, the plans, the dreams - you didn't just walk away from him, you demolished everything. And for what?"

His voice grew quieter, but somehow that made it worse. "He loved you more than anything in this world. The way he looked at you... God, we all wished someone would look at us that way. And you just..." he shook his head, disgust evident in his features. "You took all of that and threw it away like it meant nothing. Like he meant nothing."

"He keeps saying he wasn't enough," San continued, his voice cracking slightly. "That he should have tried harder, been better. Do you know what it's like watching someone you care about destroy themselves because they think they're worthless?”

Every word felt like another weight added to the crushing guilt already suffocating you. San wasn't saying anything you hadn't already told yourself, but hearing it from someone else, someone who had witnessed the destruction from the outside, made it feel devastatingly real.

You wanted to speak, to defend yourself, to explain the tangled mess of fears and doubts that had driven you to this point, but the words died in your throat. San's judgment felt like a mirror reflecting back every self-accusation you'd been wrestling with since moving out.

San watched you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I get it. Love is scary. Commitment is terrifying. But running away? That's not the answer. It never is."

"I thought I was protecting myself," you admitted, your voice barely audible. "I thought if I left first, it would hurt less than eventually losing him. But now..."

"Now you're both destroyed," San finished bluntly. "Congratulations on that stellar logic."

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with all the things left unsaid, all the regrets that were too late to matter, and all the pain that seemed to have no end in sight.

"Just go take that shower," San repeated firmly, his patience wearing thin.

"I will, right after you tell me how's Yunho and why he ended up in the hospital," you countered, your voice finding a sudden strength. "I'm still his emergency contact. If you won't tell me, I'll just call the hospital myself."

San's face twisted into a cruel smirk. "Oh, now you care? That's rich coming from someone who walked away without a second thought. Who abandoned everything we all thought was real. You lost the right to know anything about him the moment you chose to leave."

"I need you to leave," you said, your voice trembling with barely contained emotion, fingers digging into your palms so hard they left crescent marks. "Get the fuck out. Now."

San's eyes narrowed dangerously, a cruel smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. "Or what? You'll run away from me too? That's your specialty, isn't it? Running away when things get too real, too fucking difficult?"

"This isn't your goddamn business, San," you snapped, anger finally breaking through your numbness like a dam bursting. Your voice rose with each word, echoing off the walls. "You don't get to come here and act like you know every fucking thing about my relationship with Yunho. You have no idea what I've been through, what we've—"

"Oh, but I do know," San stood up so violently his chair crashed to the floor behind him, his voice thundering through the apartment. "I fucking know because I'm the one who had to watch him break down last night! I'm the one who—"

"GET THE FUCK OUT!" you screamed, the force of your voice ripping through your throat like razor blades. The vase on the table shattered as your hand swept across it in a blind rage. Your whole body was trembling, tears streaming down your face as you pointed at the door. "Just... get out. Please. I can't... I can't do this anymore."

San stared at you for what felt like an eternity, his jaw clenched so tight you could see the muscle twitching. The silence between you crackled with tension, thick enough to choke on. Finally, he moved towards the door with deliberate slowness, stopping just before he opened it. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the doorknob.

"You know what's really fucking funny?" he said, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper that somehow cut deeper than any scream. "You're right. This isn't my business. But at least I stayed to fight for it. You?" He let out a bitter laugh that felt like acid in the air. "You just gave up. Like a fucking coward."

The door slammed behind him with such force that the walls seemed to vibrate with the echoes of his anger. You stood there, frozen, staring at the closed door as his words reverberated in your mind. The shards of the broken vase glinted on the floor, a perfect metaphor for the wreckage of your life.

Like a robot operating on autopilot, you dragged yourself to the bathroom. The shattered vase remained forgotten on the floor, a problem for another time. Your mind was too clouded, too heavy with thoughts that refused to settle. The shower routine passed in a blur - you couldn't remember if you'd washed your hair once or twice, or if you'd even used soap at all. Getting dressed was equally mechanical, with muscle memory taking over where conscious thought failed.

Before you knew it, you were back on the sofa, staring blankly at nothing in particular. Your phone felt unnaturally heavy in your hand, and when it started vibrating with Mingi's incoming call, your heart lurched painfully in your chest.

You stared at the screen, watching Mingi's name flash insistently. Each vibration felt like another accusation, another reminder of everything you'd destroyed. After what felt like an eternity, you let the call go to voicemail, your hand trembling as you set the phone face-down on the coffee table.

The phone buzzed two more times in quick succession - Mingi, again and again. Each vibration seemed to echo through your entire body, but you couldn't bring yourself to answer. Eventually, the rhythmic buzzing of yet another incoming call became a strange lullaby, pulling you into a fitful sleep right there on the couch.

The gentle knock at the door pulled you from your restless sleep. Your body protested as you stood up, muscles stiff from sleeping in an awkward position. Opening the door revealed Mingi, his tall frame carrying several bags of takeout, his expression softer than you'd expected.

"Hey," he said quietly, lifting the bags slightly. "Thought you might need some food. Can I come in?"

You stepped aside wordlessly, letting him enter. The apartment still bore the evidence of your confrontation with San - the broken vase pieces swept hastily into a corner, the overturned chair still lying on its side.

Mingi set the food down on the table and turned to you, his eyes full of concern. Without warning, he pulled you into a tight hug. The familiar comfort of his embrace broke something inside you, and you found yourself clinging to him as tears started falling again.

"I know," he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. "I know it's hard. But you need to eat something, okay?"

Mingi let you go from his hug, looking around the small apartment with concerned eyes. He quietly righted the overturned chair, his gaze lingering on the broken vase in the corner. Moving to crouch beside the shattered pieces, he carefully picked up a larger fragment.

"Mingi, don't..." you whispered.

"I'll help you clean this up," he said softly, already looking around for something to sweep up the smaller pieces. "We shouldn't leave broken glass lying around."

You found a dustpan and brush in the kitchen, bringing them back to help Mingi clean up the mess. Working together in silence, you gathered the glittering shards, each piece a reminder of your earlier outburst. The simple act of cleaning somehow felt therapeutic, as if clearing away the physical debris could somehow help clear the emotional wreckage as well.

As you both settled at the table, Mingi began unpacking containers of your favorite comfort foods. The gesture was so thoughtful it made your throat tight.

"Listen," he said carefully, watching you pick at your food. "I know this isn't ideal timing, but... Yunho's going to be staying with me for a while. A few days at least. I think... I think it might be good if you used this time to get your things from the apartment. You know, the rest of your stuff."

You froze mid-bite, the implications of his words hitting you hard. Getting your things meant truly accepting it was over. Making it final.

"I'll help you," Mingi offered gently, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. "You don't have to do it alone."

You stared down at your barely touched food, the weight of his words settling heavily in your chest. The thought of going back to that apartment, of seeing all the remnants of your shared life with Yunho, made your stomach twist into knots.

"I'll do it myself," you whispered, wiping furiously at the tears that wouldn't stop falling. Your voice cracked as you looked at Mingi, desperation clawing at your chest. "Is it... is it really over like this?"

Mingi remained silent, his eyes filled with a sadness that spoke volumes. The weight of his silence crushed what little hope you had left, and you found yourself breaking down completely, shoulders shaking with uncontrollable sobs. The silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truths. You both knew who had walked away. You both knew whose choices had led to this moment. The guilt of it all made your chest ache unbearably.

"Please," you choked out between sobs, "just tell me how he is. Is he okay? I need to know if he's okay."

But Mingi just sat there, his silence a reminder of San's earlier words - you'd lost the right to know. Your tears fell harder as the reality of your situation sank in deeper, each quiet moment another reminder of everything you'd thrown away.

Perhaps Mingi's heart was too pure, or perhaps the years of friendship between all of you were what made him finally break his silence. His expression softened as he watched you fall apart.

"He..." Mingi hesitated, weighing his words carefully. "He broke the mirror in his bathroom. Got some bad cuts from playing with the glass. They had to put in stitches, but thankfully there's no permanent nerve damage, even though some cuts were pretty deep." He paused, running a hand through his hair. "They're keeping him for vitamin IVs right now. Turns out he hasn't been eating properly... they want to monitor him for a bit."

The words hit you with a force that knocked the air out of your lungs, each detail making it harder to breathe. The image of Yunho, alone and hurting enough to... You pressed your hands against your face, trying to hold back a fresh wave of tears.

"Nurse told me he was asleep," Mingi continued, checking his phone briefly. "I had to leave since they wouldn't let me stay as I'm not family. I decided to just stop by here since they won't let him out till evening. I'll get him and we'll go to mine - I don't want him to be alone."

His words twisted the knife of guilt deeper into your heart. You'd been his family once, or at least you were supposed to be.

Now you were just another stranger, someone who'd lost the privilege of knowing how he was doing, of being there when he needed support. This was the consequence of your choices, the price of walking away. Your chest felt hollow as you stared at your food, wondering how everything had fallen apart so completely.

"Why did you do that?" Mingi asked softly, his eyes searching your face for answers. "You both were so happy. Everyone could see how much he loved you, how much you loved him. What changed?"

The question hung heavy in the air between you, forcing you to confront the choices that had led to this moment. Your hands trembled as you put your fork down, buying time as you struggled to find the words to explain something you barely understood yourself.

"You love him, I know you do," Mingi added, his eyes scanning your face. "That's what makes this even harder to understand."

"I got scared," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "Everything was so perfect, and I... I convinced myself it couldn't last. That I'd end up losing him anyway, so maybe if I left first..." You trailed off, realizing how pathetic it sounded.

"So you chose to break both your hearts instead?" Mingi's voice was gentle but carried an undercurrent of frustration.

"I know it doesn't make sense," you said, tears falling freely now. "I know I ruined everything. I just... I couldn't handle how much I needed him. How much it would destroy me if he ever left."

Mingi sighed heavily, his eyes scanning your tear-stained face. "I hate to admit it, but... look at you. You're a mess too. You've completely ruined yourself. You look like you haven't slept in days, your eyes are swollen from crying, and..." He trailed off, shaking his head with a mixture of frustration and concern. "You destroyed yourselves trying to prevent something that wasn't even happening."

Your eyes welled up with fresh tears at his words, knowing he was right. The irony of it all felt like a cruel joke - you'd walked away to avoid pain, only to cause more devastation than you could have imagined.

"You know," Mingi said softly, his eyes distant as if remembering something, "he still wants to call you in the middle of the night. Every single night." He let out a heavy sigh. "He sits there, phone in hand, staring at your number until dawn breaks. Won't press call anymore, but... the need is still there. And I know you do the same - I can see it in your eyes, in how exhausted you look. You both need each other like you need air to breathe, but you're both too scared to make that first move."

The memory of all those nights spent staring at your phone, finger hovering over Yunho's name, praying he would call first, made your chest ache.

"You threw it all away because you were afraid of losing it," Mingi continued, his voice gentle but firm. "But look at what happened - you lost it anyway. The very thing you were trying to prevent... you made it happen."

You let out a shaky breath, your hands trembling as you wiped away fresh tears. The truth in his words carved deeper than any knife - you'd orchestrated your own heartbreak, conducted this symphony of pain with the precision of someone determined to suffer. Your gaze dropped to your lap, unable to meet his eyes as the weight of your self-fulfilling prophecy crushed what remained of your resolve.

"Just..." Mingi paused, running his hand through his hair with visible frustration. "Don't try to get him back. I'm for real. Not right now, when he's this broken. He needs time to heal, and so do you. If you really love him, give him that at least."

You knew he was right. The image of Yunho in the hospital, of his bandaged hands, was enough to make you understand the gravity of what you'd done.

"Y/N," Mingi started, his voice heavy with resignation. "I know you're hurting too, but I can't be in the middle of this right now. All I ask is that you get your things while he's staying with me. Give him space to heal."

"But I still need him," you whispered, voice cracking. "I know what I did was wrong, but I never wanted this to happen."

"Please," Mingi said firmly, raising his hand. His eyes held a mixture of concern and exhaustion. "I can't hear this right now. Not when he's in the hospital because—" He stopped himself, shaking his head. "Just do what I asked, okay?"

"Could you at least tell him that I—"

"No," he cut you off as he got up from the chair, already moving towards the door. "I won't carry messages between you two. That's not fair to anyone."

He paused at the doorway, his tall frame casting a long shadow across your floor. "Take care of yourself, alright?" The gentleness in his voice only made your chest ache more. With that, he left, the gentle click of the door somehow worse than San's earlier slam.

You stared at the food he'd brought, but your appetite had completely vanished. After a few half-hearted attempts to eat, you pushed the containers away. Your eyes landed on your phone, still face-down on the coffee table. The thought of going to collect your things from the apartment made your stomach churn, but Mingi was right – it needed to be done.

Maybe it was better to do it now, while everything still felt numb. You grabbed your keys and jacket, leaving the uneaten food on the table. Each step towards your car felt like walking through quicksand, but you forced yourself to keep moving. The sooner you did this, the sooner everyone could start healing – even if that meant healing without you.

The apartment key felt impossibly heavy in your hand as you stood before the familiar door. Taking a deep breath, you pushed it open, and immediately the scent of him - that unique blend of his cologne and just... him - hit you like a physical force.

Your eyes landed on the entryway, where you'd both stumbled through that very first night, drunk on love and anticipation. You remembered how he'd pressed you against that wall, his lips trailing fire down your neck as you'd giggled, both of you nearly tripping over the moving boxes that still littered the floor. "Welcome home," he'd whispered against your skin, and you'd never felt more certain about anything in your life.

Moving to the bedroom was like walking through a minefield of memories. The bed where you'd spent countless nights tangled in each other's arms. That first night, when his touches had been so gentle, so reverent as if he couldn't believe you were real. The way he'd worshipped every inch of your body, whispering promises against your skin until you were both breathless and trembling.

With shaking hands, you began pulling your remaining clothes from the closet. Each item held a memory - the sweater you'd worn on your first date, the dress from that summer party where he couldn't keep his eyes off you. His hoodies that you'd claimed as your own still smelled like him, and you found yourself pressing one to your face, inhaling deeply as tears started falling.

The bathroom was worse. Your toothbrush still stood next to his in that ridiculous holder he'd insisted on buying because it looked like a tiny robot. The sight of the broken mirror made your stomach lurch - you could almost see the scene Mingi had described, the sound of shattering glass echoing in your mind. Mechanically, you gathered your cosmetics, your favorite shampoo, the face masks he'd always tease you about but secretly loved using himself.

Back in the bedroom, you faced the wall of polaroids - a chronicle of your relationship. There you both were, beaming at the camera on a moving day, surrounded by boxes. Another showed you both covered in paint after attempting to DIY the living room walls. So many captured kisses, lazy Sunday mornings, and surprise back hugs. Your fingers traced the edge of one particular photo - both of you tangled in sheets, your hair a mess, his lips pressed to your temple. He'd insisted on capturing that moment, said he wanted to remember exactly how beautiful you looked in the morning light.

The gifts were the hardest. The plush bear he'd won at that carnival, even though he'd spent way too much money trying. The bracelet from your first anniversary, engraved with the date you met. That silly coffee mug with your inside joke printed on it. Each item felt like it was burning your fingers as you packed it away, each one a reminder of promises you'd broken.

You found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed - your bed, his bed, the bed that had been yours together - clutching your favorite pillow to your chest. The one he'd always steal because he said it smelled like you. A sob escaped your throat as you remembered how he'd wrap himself around you every night, one arm always protectively draped over your waist, his breath warm against your neck.

"I'm sorry," you whispered to the empty room, your voice breaking. "I'm so sorry." But the walls that had witnessed so many of your loving moments now only echoed back your solitary grief.

With trembling hands, you zipped up the last bag. The apartment looked wrong now - half-empty, just like your heart. You took one final look around, memories flooding your mind: the kitchen where you'd attempted to teach him to cook (and failed miserably), the living room where you'd slow-danced at midnight, the balcony where you'd planned your future together.

You decided to clean up one last time, starting with the kitchen. The dishes had piled up - he'd always been terrible at keeping up with them when stressed. Your hands moved mechanically through the motions of washing, drying, and putting away. Each clink of plates being stacked felt too loud in the empty space.

The bathroom was next. Glass fragments still littered the tiles, some pieces stained with what you knew must be his blood. Your hands shook as you swept them up, imagining his pain, his desperation. The mirror's absence left a gaping void on the wall, much like the one in your chest.

It was late evening by the time you finished. The apartment gleamed with a sterile emptiness that felt wrong - too clean, too neat, like trying to erase all traces of the mess you'd made of things. You were about to leave when you heard it - Yunho’s voice behind the door.

"Mingi, I know you said you'd pick me up, but I just couldn't stay there anymore," Yunho's muffled voice came through the door, followed by a frustrated sigh. "The nurses were driving me crazy with all their—why are you freaking out? What's wrong?"

Click.

Your heart stopped. You knew that sound, knew the slight hesitation that always came before he'd push the door open. The handle turned, and there he was.

Yunho stood frozen in the doorway, his bandaged hand still on the handle. He looked terrible - pale, with dark circles under his eyes that spoke of sleepless nights. The hospital bracelet was still around his wrist.

"I'm gonna call you back," Yunho said shakily into the phone, his eyes never leaving yours. His bandaged hand trembled as he ended the call, letting the phone drop to his side.

For a moment, neither of you moved. The air felt thick with all the things you wanted to say, all the apologies stuck in your throat. His eyes moved from you to the packed bags by the door, and then to the spotless apartment behind you.

"What are you doing here?" Yunho asked, his voice hoarse and tired.

"Mingi told me you'd be staying at his place, so I..." you started with a trembling voice, gesturing weakly at the packed bags. "I wanted to grab my things."

"I..." your voice cracked. "I was just leaving. I cleaned up... I thought..." The words died on your tongue as his gaze finally met yours. The pain in his eyes made you want to reach for him, but you knew you'd lost that right.

And then the tears came for what seemed to be the hundredth time today, hot and relentless, streaming down your face as you stood there, unable to look away from him. Your shoulders shook with silent sobs, each one carrying the weight of everything you'd lost, everything you'd broken.

"I'm sorry," you managed to whisper, though the words felt painfully inadequate in the face of his bandaged hands and haunted eyes. "I'm so, so sorry."

He moved then, crossing the space between you in two long strides. Before you could process what was happening, his arms were around you, pulling you against his chest with a gentleness that broke your heart all over again. You melted into his embrace, your tears soaking into his shirt as your fingers clutched desperately at the fabric.

"Shh," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he began to sway slightly, rocking you both from side to side in a gentle, soothing motion. The familiar rhythm only made you cry harder, remembering all the times he'd held you just like this – after bad days, during celebrations, or simply because he wanted to be close to you.

Your body felt impossibly small in his arms, defeated and drained. The guilt was crushing, made worse by the tenderness of his touch. Even now, even after everything you'd done, he was still trying to comfort you. His bandaged hand smoothed over your hair, and you could feel the slight tremor in his movements.

"I don't deserve this," you whispered against his chest, your voice breaking. "I don't deserve you being kind to me."

"Don't," he murmured, his grip tightening slightly. "Just... let me hold you. Please. Just for a moment."

The quiet desperation in his voice shattered what was left of your composure. You pressed closer, breathing in his scent, memorizing the feeling of being in his arms one last time. His heart beat steadily under your ear, a rhythm you'd fallen asleep to countless times before. Now each beat felt like a countdown to goodbye.

He continued to sway, the motion almost hypnotic, as if he could make time stand still if he just kept you both moving. His chin rested on top of your head, and you could feel the slight dampness of his own tears falling into your hair.

"I'm sorry," you whispered again, the words muffled against his chest. "I'm so sorry, it's all my fault."

His only response was to hold you tighter, his breathing uneven as he fought back his own emotions. The bandages on his hands scraped lightly against your back, a physical reminder of the pain you'd caused. Yet here he was, still trying to comfort you, still being the incredible person you'd fallen in love with – the person you'd hurt so deeply.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as you stood there in his arms, both of you silently crying, swaying together in the apartment that had once been your home.

"I love you," Yunho whispered against your hair, his voice barely audible. His lips pressed softly against the top of your head, the gesture achingly tender. The words hung in the air between you, making your heart constrict painfully in your chest. Those three words that had once been a promise of forever now felt like a farewell.

You felt him take a shuddering breath, his chest rising and falling against you. His fingers tightened in the fabric of your shirt for just a moment, as if fighting the urge to never let go. Then, slowly, deliberately, his arms loosened their hold. The loss of his warmth was immediate and devastating, leaving you feeling colder than you'd ever been.

"I love you too," you whispered back, your voice breaking on each word. The truth of it burned in your chest - you did love him, desperately, completely, even now.

Yunho's breath hitched, and you felt him stiffen slightly. His hands, which had been resting loosely at his sides, clenched into fists, the bandages crinkling with the movement. When he spoke, his voice was barely above a whisper, rough with emotion.

"All of it," he started, then had to pause, swallowing hard. "Everything we built, everything we dreamed about... it all just went to waste, didn't it?" The words seemed to physically pain him as they left his lips, each one carrying the weight of a thousand shattered promises.

You watched as he ran his bandaged hand through his hair, a gesture so achingly familiar it made your heart constrict. His eyes, when they met yours, were filled with a devastating mixture of love and resignation. "All those nights planning our future, all those promises we made... they just turned to dust. And the worst part?" He let out a broken laugh that sounded more like a sob. "The worst part is that I still wouldn't change a single moment of it. Not one second of loving you."

The silence that followed was deafening, filled with all the things you both wanted to say but couldn't. The space between you felt like an ocean now, vast and impossible to cross, even though you could still feel the ghost of his warmth on your skin.

"I love you," he said again, his voice cracking, "but I need you to leave now."

"Please," you choked out, reaching for him instinctively. "Please, Yunho, we can fix this. We can try again. I'll do anything—"

He took a step back, keeping himself just out of your reach. The movement, though small, felt like a physical blow. "Don't," he whispered, his bandaged hand coming up as if to shield himself. "It all went to waste the second you walked out that door. You made your choice."

"I was wrong," you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. "I was so wrong. Please, just give me one more chance—"

"Stop." His voice was firm now, despite the tears in his eyes. "You need to go. I can't... I can't do this. Not now. Not anymore."

Each word felt like a knife to your heart, but you could see the resolution in his eyes, even through his pain. This was it. This was really the end. Yunho turned away, his shoulders tense, but as your first sob broke through the silence, he froze. Your crying was raw and uncontrollable now, each breath coming as a painful gasp, your whole body shaking with the force of it. The sound seemed to fill every corner of the space, bouncing off the bare walls, making the emptiness feel even more profound.

"You know what?" Yunho suddenly spun around, his voice rising with a surge of anger that seemed to fill the entire room. His eyes, usually so warm and gentle, now blazed with an intensity that made you take a step back. "Fuck this! Fuck all of this! You don't get to stand there crying like you're the victim here, like you weren't the one who made this choice!"

"I'm not—" you started, your voice small and trembling, but he cut you off with a sharp gesture that made you flinch.

"You LEFT!" he shouted, "You walked out that fucking door without even looking back! Do you know what that did to me? Do you have any idea what it feels like to watch the person you love, the person you built your whole world around, just... just throw everything away like it meant nothing? Like every moment we shared was fucking worthless?"

"It meant EVERYTHING!" you screamed back, your own anger finally breaking through the surface like a dam bursting. Your hands were shaking as you gestured wildly between you. "That's why I left! I was terrified of how much I needed you, how much power you had over me! I couldn't breathe without thinking about you! Every moment of every day was consumed by thoughts of you, and it terrified me!"

"So you decided to stop breathing altogether?" His laugh was bitter and hollow, tears streaming down his face and catching on his trembling lips. "Great fucking solution! Really stellar thinking there!"

"I was scared!" Your voice cracked, splintering like glass. "I still am! I'm scared because I love you so much it hurts, and I don't know how to handle that! It's like drowning and flying all at once, and I'm terrified of what that means!"

"And I'm not scared?" He stepped closer, his eyes blazing with a mixture of fury and desperation. The space between you crackled with tension. "You think I'm not terrified every single day? But I stayed! I fought for us! I faced that fear head-on because what we had was worth fighting for! While you... you just ran. You took the easiest fucking way out and left me."

The silence that followed was deafening, and oppressive, both of you breathing heavily, tears mingling with anger and exhaustion. The air between you felt thick with unspoken words and shattered promises. When Yunho spoke again, his voice was softer, broken, like shards of glass wrapped in velvet.

"The worst part is..." he paused, running his bandaged hand through his hair in that achingly familiar gesture, "I still want to hold you. Even now, even after everything... even after you broke my heart into a thousand pieces, I still want to make it all better. How fucked up is that? How pathetic am I?"

You took a shaky step forward, your hands trembling like leaves in a storm. "Then do it," you challenged, "Hold me. Make it better. Because I'm not going to fucking pretend I don't want the same thing."

"Don't you dare," he growled, but he was already moving closer, his bandaged hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, betraying his internal struggle. "Don't you fucking dare make me want this when I should be hating you. When everything in me is screaming to push you away."

"But you don't hate me," you whispered, now close enough to feel his ragged breath fan across your face, to see the golden flecks in his tear-filled eyes. "You can't hate me any more than I can hate you."

"I fucking wish I could," he choked out, and then his hands were in your hair, fingers tangling in the strands as he pulled you roughly against him. His lips crashed into yours with the force of a breaking wave, the kiss desperate, angry, messy with tears and need. His bandaged fingers dug into your scalp as you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer, trying to eliminate any space between your bodies.

"I hate that I still love you," he gasped against your mouth between brutal, punishing kisses that felt more like warfare than affection. "I hate that I can't stop, that I don't want to stop. That you have this power over me."

"Then don't stop," you breathed, tasting the salt of both your tears as he kissed you again, harder this time, backing you up against the wall with enough force to knock the breath from your lungs. His hands were rough against your skin as he yanked your shirt up, you helped him pull it off, then immediately went for his, desperate to feel his skin against yours. His chest was heaving, muscles taut with tension as your fingers traced over them.

"I shouldn't want this," he growled against your neck, biting down hard enough to make you gasp, to ensure you'd carry the mark of this moment for days to come. "I shouldn't still want you this much. It's destroying me."

"But you do," you challenged, your nails dragging down his back, "You want me as much as I want you. As much as we've always wanted each other."

He responded by lifting you up, pinning you harder against the wall, his strength both frightening and thrilling. Your legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, drawing a deep groan from him that vibrated against your collarbone. "You don't get to fucking tell me what I want," he said, but his hands were already working at your jeans, his movements frantic and needy, betraying his words.

"Then show me," you gasped as his fingers found bare skin, sending electricity coursing through your veins. "Show me what you want, Yunho. Make me understand." The sound of his name seemed to break something fundamental in him, some last barrier of resistance. He crushed his mouth to yours again, the kiss all teeth and tongue and desperate need. You could taste the anger on his lips, the hurt, and the want all mixed together into something explosive, dangerous, and necessary.

"I hate this," he panted between kisses that felt like drowning, even as his hands roamed your body with familiar hunger, mapping every curve and hollow. "I hate that no one else feels like you do. That no one else ever could."

"I know," you whispered, helping him take off your bra, both of you too far gone to care about anything but this moment, this need. "I know, I hate it too. I hate that you're the only one who makes me feel alive."

The wall was cold against your naked back, a sharp contrast to the burning heat of his skin. His bandaged hands gripped your thighs almost painfully tight as he pressed closer, leaving no space between your bodies, no room for doubt or regret.

"Tell me to stop," he demanded, his voice rough with need, with all the things left unsaid between you. "Tell me this is a mistake. Tell me we shouldn't be doing this."

Instead, you pulled him closer, your lips finding his ear, breath hot against his skin. "Never," you breathed, feeling him shudder against you, his control finally shattering completely. "I never want you to stop. Not now, not ever."

Your hands trembled as you unzipped his pants, feeling his hardness straining against the fabric. He let out a deep moan that sent shivers down your spine as you pulled his jeans down, your fingers ghosting over his thighs.

"Fuck, we can't be doing this," he said as his hands found the delicate lace of your panties, the last barrier between you. His fingers hooked into the waistband, pulling them down with agonizing slowness until they fell forgotten to the floor. His hands returned to grip your hips with bruising force, the roughness of the bandages a stark reminder of everything between you as he pressed you harder against the cold wall. His breath came in hot, ragged pants against your neck. You were both trembling, poised on the edge of something dangerous and inevitable. The tension between you was electric, charged with equal parts anger and desire. When he finally moved, it was with a force that made you cry out, your nails digging crescents into his shoulders as he buried himself inside you in one swift, brutal motion.

"You shouldn't have fucking left," he growled between harsh, desperate thrusts, each word punctuated by the raw sound of skin against skin, his voice thick with anger and longing. "You had no right to just walk away like everything we built meant nothing."

"And you had no right to give up on us so easily," you shot back, your voice breaking into a breathless moan as he hit a particularly sensitive spot that made stars explode behind your eyes. Your fingers tangled roughly in his hair, pulling hard enough to make him hiss through clenched teeth. "You could have fought harder, could have shown me it was worth staying for."

"Fought harder?" His laugh was bitter and hollow as his pace increased to something almost punishing, "You're the one who ran away the moment things got too real!"

"Because you were suffocating me," you gasped, arching against him as pleasure and pain mingled indistinguishably in your veins like a drug. "You wanted to have all of me, every single piece of my soul until I couldn't even tell where I ended and you began."

"And you didn't want exactly the same thing?" His hand gripped your jaw with bruising intensity, forcing you to look directly into his eyes that burned with raw emotion as he continued his relentless rhythm. "Don't you dare lie to me. Not now. Not when I can feel how desperately you need this, need me."

You tried to shake your head, but his grip only tightened, his thumb pressing against your lower lip as tears spilled down your cheeks. "I wanted everything with you," you admitted, your voice breaking.

"And I wanted to give you everything," he snarled, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. "Every fucking piece of me was yours, and you threw it away like it meant nothing!"

Your response was cut off by a particularly deep thrust that had you seeing stars, your nails raking down his sweat-slicked back hard enough to leave marks. "Fuck, Yunho," you gasped, your head falling back against the wall with a thud.

"Say it again," he demanded, his voice rough and raw as he bit down hard on your shoulder. "Say my fucking name like you mean it."

"Yunho," you moaned, tugging sharply at his hair, forcing his head back so you could crash your lips against his in a kiss that was more teeth than tenderness. The metallic taste of blood mingled between you as his lip split under the force of your bite.

"I fucking hate how much I still want you," he growled against your mouth, his pace becoming erratic, desperate. His bandaged hands gripped your thighs so hard you knew they'd leave bruises, marking you as his even now. "How much I still need you, even after everything."

You could feel yourself approaching the edge, every nerve ending on fire as he drove into you relentlessly. "Then make me feel it," you challenged, your voice breaking on his hard, sharp thrust. "Make me remember why I was so fucking scared of how much I loved you."

He responded by shifting his angle, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur, "Is this what you wanted?" he panted, sweat dripping from his forehead onto your chest. "To reduce us to this? Just fucking against a wall like we're nothing more than this?"

"We were never nothing," you gasped, feeling the tension building to an unbearable level. "We were everything - fuck, Yunho, I'm so close..."

"Then come for me," he demanded, his voice wrecked and desperate. "Show me how much you fucking need this. Need me." His words pushed you over the edge, your body arching off the wall as waves of your orgasm crashed through you, his name a broken cry on your lips. He followed moments later, his grip bruising as he buried his face in your neck, his whole body shuddering with the force of his release. For a long moment, there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breathing and the thundering of your hearts, the anger between you temporarily drowned.

Slowly, you both slid to the floor, limbs still tangled together, neither wanting to be the first to let go. The wall was cold against your back, but his body was warm, his breath evening out against your skin.

The silence shattered as suddenly as it had descended. "This was a fucking mistake," Yunho spat, pushing away from you with such force that you nearly fell over. "Just like everything else between us."

"A mistake?" You laughed bitterly, scrambling to your feet. "That's rich coming from you. You weren't calling it a mistake when you were fucking me against the wall two minutes ago."

"You know what the worst part is?" you said, voice cracking as you stood there half-dressed and trembling. "I still love you. Even now, even after everything, I love you so much it's killing me."

"Don't," Yunho warned, but his voice was unsteady. "Don't you dare say that now."

"Why not? Because it's true?" You took a step toward him, watching his chest rise and fall with rapid breaths. "Because you feel it too? This thing between us that won't die no matter how hard we try to kill it?"

"Love doesn't destroy people like this. Love doesn't leave you bleeding out on your bathroom floor at 3 AM because you can't stand the silence anymore."

"Oh, but that's exactly what it does when it's real," you whispered, reaching out to touch his face. He jerked away like your touch burned. "When it's so deep it becomes part of your DNA. When losing it feels like losing a vital organ."

His eyes were glassy with unshed tears as he grabbed your wrist, his grip painfully tight. "Then maybe we were wrong to ever let it get this far. Maybe we should have known better than to let ourselves become this—this fucking catastrophe." His voice cracked as he raised his bandaged hands, forcing you to see them clearly. "Look at this. Look what you did to me! I've been miserable since the day you left." He yanked a cigarette from his pocket, lighting it with trembling fingers.

"Put that out," you snapped, watching him take a long drag. "When did you start smoking again?"

Yunho deliberately blew a cloud of smoke directly into your face, making you cough. "I started again the night you left. Needed something to fill the void you left behind."

"Don't you dare blame your self-destructive habits on me," you snarled, waving away the smoke. "Those bandages? That's all you. The smoking? That's you too. Stop making me your fucking scapegoat!"

"Self-destructive?" He took another drag, eyes never leaving yours. "You want to talk about destruction? You destroyed everything we built. These hands? They haven't stopped shaking since you walked out that door. I can barely hold my fucking keys without trembling. But you don't care about that, do you? You never cared about anything but yourself."

"You really want to do this?" you asked, voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Fine. Do you want to know what I care about? I care that you're destroying yourself and blaming me for it. I care that you're using me as an excuse to spiral instead of dealing with your own issues."

"Get out," he growled, voice dangerously low.

"Are you sure?" you taunted, your voice dripping with venom. "Once I leave, who will you fuck against the wall again?"

"Don't you even dare throw this in my face now!" Yunho screamed. The veins in his neck stood out prominently as he advanced toward you, trembling with barely contained fury. "Get the fuck out before I say something we'll both regret.”

"More regrets?" You laughed hysterically as you yanked your shirt over your head. "Add it to the fucking list, Yunho. Right next to ever believing we could make this work!"

"You want to talk about beliefs?" He advanced on you, cigarette dangling from his lips, eyes wild. "I believed every fucking promise you made. Every 'I love you,' every 'forever.' What a goddamn joke. You're nothing but a coward who runs the moment things get real."

"And you're nothing but a controlling asshole who can't handle not having everything your way!" You struggled with your jeans, hands shaking with rage. "You say I run? You pushed me away long before I ever left!"

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." Each word was punctuated by him throwing something - your shoes, your jacket, your keys. "I'm done with your bullshit excuses. I'm done with your lies. I'm done with YOU."

"Fuck you, Yunho," you spat, gathering your remaining belongings, dodging the cloud of smoke he blew in your direction. "Fuck you and your self-righteous bullshit. You want me gone? Fine. But remember - you're the one kicking me out this time. You don't get to play the victim anymore." With trembling hands, you picked up your bags. Your feet felt heavy as lead as you walked towards the door, each step taking you further away from the life you'd built together.

His laugh was ugly, and bitter as he stubbed out the cigarette against the wall. "The victim? That's rich coming from someone who's made an art form out of playing the martyr. Go on, run away again. It's what you're best at, isn't it?"

"DON'T SAY I'M RUNNING AWAY WHEN IT'S YOU THROWING ME OUT!" you screamed, your voice cracking with raw emotion. "You don't get to rewrite this narrative. You're the one telling me to leave, you're the one pushing me away, and you have the audacity to call ME a coward?"

His eyes flashed dangerously as he stalked towards you, closing the distance between you in three long strides. His hand shot out, fingers gripping your chin roughly as he forced you to meet his blazing gaze. "A coward? No, sweetheart, a coward wouldn't have the guts to destroy someone so thoroughly and then act like they're the victim. You're something much worse - you're a fucking hurricane that leaves nothing but devastation in your wake."

You ripped your chin from his grasp, stumbling backward. "Then I guess we're both disasters," you hissed, tears finally spilling over. "Because you're not exactly leaving survivors in your path either."

The silence between you stretched taut, electric with accusations and raw pain. Your hand found the doorknob, gripping it like a lifeline as you fought the urge to turn back, to see if his expression matched the brokenness in his voice. But you knew better - one look back and you might crumble, might forget all the reasons why this toxic dance needed to end.

"You know what?" Your voice came out steadier than you felt, even as your heart threatened to shatter into a million jagged pieces in your chest, each shard cutting deeper than the last. "You were right about one thing. This was a mistake. All of it. Every stolen moment, every whispered promise. But at least I can admit my mistakes instead of drowning them in nicotine and self-pity like you've been doing."

"And what about you?" he shot back, voice raw and bleeding with emotion. "Drowning yourself in righteous anger and pretending you're better than me because you can 'admit your mistakes'? At least I'm honest about my demons."

"At least I'm trying!" Your voice cracked like thin ice, hands trembling violently as you gripped the doorknob tighter, knuckles turning white from the force. "At least I'm not standing here pretending that smoking and fucking will somehow magically fix what’s broken!"

"Nothing can fix what's broken between us," he said, suddenly sounding exhausted, like all the fight had drained from his body at once. "We made sure of that, didn't we?"

You turned to face him one last time, your vision swimming with unshed tears that refused to fall. "How did we get here, Yunho? How did we go from 'forever' to this?"

"I don't know," he whispered, running a shaking hand through his disheveled hair, eyes haunted with memories of better days. "I don't fucking know anymore. All I know is that I can't breathe when you're here, and I can't breathe when you're gone."

"Then maybe we're just poison to each other now." Your hand remained frozen on the door handle, caught between staying and leaving, between love and self-preservation. "Maybe we loved too hard, too fast, and burned ourselves out."

"Love?" He laughed bitterly, lighting another cigarette with trembling fingers, "Is that what you call this endless cycle of hurting each other?"

"You know it is," you said softly, your words barely a whisper in the heavy air between you. "That's why it hurts so much. Because underneath all this anger, all this pain, all these scars we've carved into each other... I still love you. And I hate myself for it. I hate that even now, standing in the wreckage of us, my heart still beats your name."

He took a long, deliberate drag, the ember of his cigarette glowing brightly. "Just go," he said finally, his voice thick with emotions he couldn't quite suppress. "Before we destroy whatever's left of each other."

This time, you didn't argue. You pulled the door open with shaking hands, the cold air hitting your tear-stained face. "Goodbye, Yunho," you whispered, the words tasting like farewell and forever on your tongue as you stepped out into the hallway.

Behind you, you heard a muffled thud - the sound of him sliding down against the door, followed by a quiet, broken sob. Your legs gave out, and you collapsed against the wall, your bags scattered around you like the pieces of your shattered relationship. You wanted to scream, to run back, to break down that door and hold him until all the pain went away. But you couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't do anything but press your hand against your mouth to muffle the sound of your own cry.

Through the door, you could hear him crying, the sound growing more desperate, more raw. The thud of his fist against the floor, followed by a choked "Why?" that felt like it was being ripped from his very soul. You'd never heard him sound so destroyed, so utterly broken, and knowing you were the cause made you physically sick.

You don't know how long you both stayed there, separated by nothing but a door, both falling apart in perfect, painful synchronicity. When his sobs finally quieted, the silence that followed was somehow even worse - empty, final, dead.

Eventually, you forced yourself to stand on shaking legs, gathering your scattered belongings. Each step away from his door felt like walking on broken glass, leaving a trail of invisible blood and regret.

The elevator ride down was a blur, each floor taking you further from the life you'd shared. As you stepped out into the cold night air the city lights blurred through your tears, a kaleidoscope of colors that seemed to mock the darkness consuming your heart.

♡│if you enjoy my writing please consider supporting me by tagging and reblogging│

[loveandpeaceanddoughnuts]

Hiiii I recently found your account and love your writing.

Would you be able to write something angsty for Levi where the reader gets seriously injured while out on a mission? I’d like it to be really angsty but whatever you want to do I’m good with!

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for your kind words and this request!! I've dabbled in angst here and there, but this is definitely the darkest I've gone. I was surprised to find I really enjoyed writing it! Maybe there's more angst in my future hm...

Anyways THANK YOU again for sending this, I love hearing from readers and love requests! I'm sorry that it took me so long to get back to you, I hope you still see this and that you enjoy it if you do!

don't fall away from me: Levi x Scout!Reader angst

[tw: hurt/no comfort, heavy angst as requested!, injury/gore, spoilers for No Regrets, mentioned (not actual) vomiting // wc: 2k // ao3 // set before the fall of Shiganshina]

It wasn't often that you and Levi were separated for missions these days. A combination of luck and called-in favors from the Captain meant that most days and nights you were by each other's side, sometimes worse for wear, but together, at least.

But luck didn't last forever, and Levi wasn't all-powerful. You had been sent on a long-term mission beyond the walls, leading a troop of Scouts to establish an outpost farther than the Regiment had ever been able to put down roots. It was risky, but if successful, would pay off immediately, filling in new corners of the Eldian map. Levi stayed behind, part of Erwin's private detail as the Commander lobbied for more funding.

Levi hated it. Hated the pompous bastards he had to deal with, the tasteless displays of wealth in the inner walls, and worst of all, that it kept him from you. But you had reassured him as you always did, strong arms around his neck and soft lips against his. "I'll be home soon, Levi. Wait for me." He saw your squad off, raised his hand in a stern wave, watching until you and your horse disappeared over the horizon.

It wouldn't last forever, he reminded himself. You were tough. So was he- a few weeks away was nothing in the grand scheme of things. And he'd seen you take down enough titans to know that they should be afraid of you. The memory made his chest swell with a quiet pride. You were a damn good soldier, and you were his. He'd make sure to remind you of both when you came home.

That was the hope that kept Levi patient as he waited out the weeks. Once the political posturing was over, he took his stress out on the spiders that had taken up residence in the rafters of the scouts' barracks. Hange was heard laughing quietly to Moblit that HQ was always cleanest when you were away. Luckily for them, Levi didn't overhear, too busy chasing his worry away with a dustrag.

The morning of your squad's return dawned clear, the sun cresting the Walls like it anticipated your arrival as much as Levi did. The Captain had been up before then- fussing over his hair and straightening his cravat needlessly, wanting to appear cool and calm when he rode out to meet you. You were sure to tease him otherwise. It had become something of a game to see who could spot the other first at your homecomings, waiting just inside the gate or, if impatience got the best of you, riding out to meet the other on some pretense.

He sipped from the teacup between his fingers, hiding a smile as he thought about the look on your face. Your eyes always lit up, your grim on-duty expression melting into relief, excitement- love, when you saw him again. He was almost sure it was love. Little as he knew about the subject, anyway. Hoped it was, would've prayed it was if he had any faith. Because Levi loved you. He hadn't admitted it yet, but the weeks of separation had shown him just how much he had grown to rely on you, to cherish your shared moments, the light you shone in the dark corners of his life.

Maybe he didn't need to seem cool and calm, this time. He allowed himself to believe that you'd missed him as much as he missed you. That certainty carried the Captain to his horse, through the gates, out on a hard ride through the outskirts of the walled city, until he saw the blurry forms of your squad through the morning mist. His carefully fixed hair fell back into messy bangs across his forehead as he urged his horse faster, his body taut with both exertion and excitement. You were almost home.

He searched for your face in the crowd of green-cloaked soldiers to no avail. Maybe you were scouting ahead, or keeping watch from the rear. He shook off the icy tendrils of fear that crept down his neck. Surely that was all. Levi looked to the rest of your squad, but they didn't meet his eyes. Some of them limped, some held bandaged limbs, others leaned on their comrades. The tendrils turned into choking vines.

Levi reared his horse in front of the ragged procession and leveled them with a glare. "Where is she?" Silence. He gritted his teeth, his voice a sword. "I won't repeat myself."

A single Scout stepped out from the ranks. Levi recognized her as a young recruit; this would have been one of her first missions. She gestured at a covered wagon hitched to the horse behind her. "She saved us, Captain." The girl's voice wavered, then broke. "We wouldn't be here if she hadn't-"

Levi didn't know if she finished her sentence. He was already off his horse and shoving past her, his mind a wall of white noise. Somehow he was standing beside the wagon, ripping the cover back with shaking hands-

In the days and weeks that followed, every Scout from that ill-fated mission would swear on their lives that the Captain maintained his composure in that moment. Whether in solidarity or out of the fear that came from watching the collapse of something unbreakable. Every last person there that day would deny that they ever heard Levi sob.

The sound tore from him helplessly, choked horror in the back of his throat. Your bloodless lips were parted, your hair strewn across the packs of gear they’d propped you on. Your arms lay limply atop a rough blanket that hid everything below your chest. When Levi reached for your hand, pressing it to his cheek, you were cold. He whispered your name, but you didn’t stir.

With effort, Levi tore his gaze from your body and whirled on the soldier that had revealed you. “Tell me what happened.”

In fits and starts, she managed the story. It had happened so fast, she said, the night watch asleep in the newly constructed outpost, the early sunrise revealing a trio of titans surrounding the camp, all teeth and eager eyes. 15m class and hungry, scrabbling at their tents, waking up to a nightmare.

You had slept in your gear- Levi clenched his fists against a sudden surge of nausea. You always teased him about his habit, sleeping sitting up or fully clothed, ready for anything. But out there, on your own, you had done the same. Did you think of him as you fell asleep? The girl was still speaking, her gaze far away. You had sprung into action, using the titans themselves as anchors to fly at their nape out there in the vast flatness of the wild.

You dispatched two quickly- of course, Levi thought, of course she did- but the third- the girl stopped to drag the back of her hand across her mouth, swallowing a dry heave. Levi had to resist the urge to shake her, to make her keep talking- but she soon continued in a whisper.

"The last titan caught her in it's teeth. It was a blur, we didn't see, only heard a- heard a snap, and a scream... we cut it's Achilles tendons, brought it to it's knees, and she fell..." The scout trailed off, her jaw working soundlessly as she remembered. "The wound, wounds- they weren't clean, sir." Her voice was a strained apology. She wobbled, clearly spent, and Levi turned away.

He stepped back toward the wagon where you lay. Levi took a slow breath, reaching into the depths of himself to find the strength to look at what hid beneath the blanket. He peeled it back, hissing through his teeth when the fabric caught on patches of drying, tacky blood.

It took a moment for Levi to process what he was seeing. Your lower body was a torn mess of crimson, contrasting hideously against the stark white of exposed bone protruding from your mangled calf. He could see the titan's attack written on your flesh- the purpling crush of teeth along your thighs and the shredded aftermath of those jaws tearing down to your ankles. The smears of dirt and gore told him how you were dragged along, out of the titan's clenching jaw, off the battlefield.

This is a dream. A nightmare. Levi told himself, clinging to it with a childish desperation that he thought had been beaten out of him long ago. He tried to swallow but his throat had gone cotton-dry. His tongue cleaved mute to the roof of his mouth. This isn't real.

He blinked, and suddenly it was Furlan in your shredded uniform, or you in his. A dizzy panic clawed up Levi's chest. He shook his head, looked away and back- and the scene changed. The hollowed pallor of your cheeks was that of his mother's corpse, a dim memory of hell. He thought he might be sick, thought wildly that he couldn't vomit in front of the other Scouts, couldn't let them see such filthy weakness- but that was forgotten when you opened your eyes.

You stared blindly at the wide, wide sky, and Levi saw Isabel in your place. Not again. Please, not again. He watched your chest rise and fall like it was the only thing tethering him to the earth, like he was the one willing it to continue. Please.

"Le-vi...?" Your voice shocked him into sanity. He cupped your cheeks in trembling hands.

"I'm here, I'm here," he rasped. "I've got you. Stay with me."

You slowly dragged your fingers through the blood on your uniform, then held them in front of your face. You didn't seem to understand where it came from, what had happened. Levi moved into your sightline. You reached for him, but your head lolled and your arm fell back in the next instant. Levi caught your hand and lifted it the rest of the way, pressing your bloody fingers to his lips.

"I'm here," he repeated, fixated again on the defiant movement of your chest as you slipped back into unconsciousness. "I'll protect you."

The other soldiers were shuffling about, some trying to quiet their nervous horses. Levi forced himself to inject authority into his voice, to project some stability on the surface as he crumbled within, never taking his eyes from your face. "I'm riding back with you. Let's go."

Eager to go home, the camp moved quickly at his order. Someone hitched Levi's horse to the wagon were you lay, seeing that the Captain wasn't about to leave your side.

Your body seemed to shift before Levi's eyes, a mist poured into the shape of the ones he had already failed, already lost. Their corpses laid atop yours, or beside you, or sprawled at your feet until he forced them away, the sight of your breathing like a talisman. Your blood dried and flaked on his cheek, but he hardly felt the itch. His cravat lay abandoned on the filthy floor.

Every jolt of the wheels made him grit his teeth, fighting down a surge of rage at the horses, the stones that made them stumble, the ground itself for not softening for you. He wanted to carry you home himself, wanted to tear off his own legs and offer them up for you. He wanted to wake up.

He spoke to you, the words pouring out, unstoppable. Vows to protect you, spiraling into impossibility- he'd kill every last titan to make sure they never touched you again, he'd give you his blood to replace what you'd lost, he'd burn down the world to keep you warm.

Confessions that had never passed his lips before, spilling into the space between you, overflowing helplessly in a whisper you couldn't hear. "I love you. Did you know that? Could you tell?" He choked on it. "I fucking love you. I didn't want to, but I do, and I need you to come back, so I can tell you to your goddamn face."

He couldn't stop touching you, kneeling at your side, his legs long gone numb. He brushed the stringy hair from your forehead, warmed your hands in his, smoothed the blanket back over your wounds. When there was nothing left to do, he did it all over again, repeating the words until they hung in the air and piled over your body, still breathing, only just.

"I love you. I love you. I love you." Please.

[blue-aconite]

"Would you please just kiss me?" With Jake Seresin!

I would apologise for not posting sooner but we all know how life gets. Without further explanation, here's your blurb ♥️ Thanks @a-reader-and-a-writer for looking this over!

Blurb Night Masterlist

It’s been over half an hour since she left the Hard Deck, wandering out onto the beach and walking along the shore. She hadn’t gone far, close enough that the light coming out of the windows was still visible but far enough that she could no longer hear the people out on the patio. 

The sun disappeared some moments ago and the moon is taking its place, casting a cold grey light over the sand. 

“What are you doing out here?”

She keeps her eyes on the waves, tracing the overlaps and motions, even as she answers him. “Thinking.”

She’s hoping the short answer will be enough, that he’ll go back inside and leave her alone but fate has other plans. She should have known it wouldn’t be enough. Like a dog with a bone, Hangman wasn’t the one to let things go. 

Her hope is further crushed when he comes closer, taking a seat in the sand next to her. He’s close enough so that she can feel the heat emitting from his body, his cologne invading her senses. Not in an unpleasant or unwelcome way, just in a way she hadn’t expected. 

“You know, there’s a party going on inside, yet you’re out here alone, thinking.” Hangman says, leaning back onto his elbows and stretching his legs out. She doesn’t look away from the water but his movements can be seen in the corner of her eye. 

“Which is exactly why I’m here. Too loud to think in there. Out here though? It’s quiet, simple.” She murmurs, drawing her knees up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them.  She can feel his eyes on her, watching her. “What do you want?”

Hangman takes a moment to answer, as if he has to decide what to say. “I just wanted to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m good, thanks.” She’d rather lie than tell him what’s really bothering her. There’s no reason for him to know. He wouldn’t even understand.

Unfortunately, Hangman sees right through her. “Could have fooled me.”

He pulls himself upright, matching her position. It’s odd seeing him look so vulnerable, smaller than he usually presents himself to be. 

When she doesn’t reply, he hesitantly continues, as if he’s afraid she’s going to run off if he pushes too far. “You can talk to me, you know. If something’s bothering you. You’d probably prefer Phoenix or Bob but I don’t see them running out here to check on you.”

She rolls her eyes at the last bit. Even when he’s trying to comfort her, he can’t help but take a shot at their teammates. It’s all in good nature nowadays, but it’s so predictably Hangman that it makes her smile. His concern is touching but she still keeps her guard up. 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she pauses slightly before adding, “but thank you.” 

Hangman shifts, turning his body sideways so he is closer than before. “I think there is something to talk about, you just don’t want to.”

If getting on her nerves is his mission, he’s succeeding at an alarming rate. Gone is the gratefulness at his earlier offer. “And pray tell, Hangman, what would that be, hm?” She spits out, unsuccessful in keeping the annoyance out of her voice. She knows it isn’t fair to react this way, not when he’s been nothing but kind to her but anything to steer him away from the conversation she doesn’t want to happen.

Hangman holds his hands up, as if to placate her. “Maybe the fact that you’ve been avoiding me ever since Payback’s birthday? The fact that whenever we’re off base, you slink away to sit somewhere by yourself? Or maybe we should talk about how we kissed and you refuse to talk about it?”

Fuck.

The last part of his rant makes her tear her gaze from the water, swirling around in the sand to face him. They end up close, too close, but neither moves. “You remember that?”

It’s a weak response, she knows that but it’s the only thing she can come up with. 

The look in his eyes portrays disbelief. “Of course I remember. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Because you were drunk? And you didn’t talk to me for the whole day afterwards, so I figured it was just something.. -”

“I didn’t talk to you because when I woke up, you were gone. I wasn’t going to hunt you down over something you clearly regretted but I still think we should talk about it.”

She knows they need to address the whole situation but as he speaks, she can only focus on one thing. “You think I regret it?”

Now he’s the one refusing to meet her eyes. “What was I supposed to think? Like I said, you’ve been avoiding me ever since, so I figured you were just trying to let me down easy without having to say something, which is a shitty move by the way, even for you -”

“Let you down easy?” She’s full of bewilderment at this point and while she knows what he’s insinuating, she can’t make herself believe it. There is no possibility, she’d been telling herself for months. 

“Oh, spare me. You can’t honestly make me believe you don’t know. I think I’ve been very clear about my feelings for you.” Jake declares, a distinct look in his eyes as he straightens up. But the vulnerability on his face betrays his emotions, even if his voice stays strong. 

She feels like she’s falling, a wide black abyss consuming her entire being. Never in her wildest dreams had she thought she’d find herself in the situation. “You have feelings for me?”

She’s well aware that she should probably try to unearth more but she’s still not entirely sure she isn’t hallucinating. This can’t possibly be happening.

Jake laughs incredulity. “Are you telling me you actually don’t know?”

“Well, you never said anything!” She implores.

“I didn’t think I had to! It's pretty obvious.” He responds, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t just drop a major bomb on her.

She throws her arms out, almost whacking him in the face. “OBVIOUS? How about you use your words instead of just thinking I can read your mind? I had no idea!”

“Why would I kiss you, if I didn’t like you?”

She stares at him blankly, at a loss for words. Everything she had wanted since her stupid crush had manifested itself was happening but for some reason, she couldn’t respond in the proper way. How many times had she wished he would reprecipitate the feelings she had developed for him during their time together? How much had she beaten herself up over kissing him back at Payback’s birthday almost a month ago, knowing that he didn’t feel the same, knowing it was the alcohol? 

She’s vaguely aware that he’s speaking again but her mind is racing, as is her heart, and she blurts out the only thing she’s thinking about. “Would you please just kiss me? Again?”